//------------------------------// // 09 - Invasive Procedures // Story: Final Solution // by Luna-tic Scientist //------------------------------// === Chapter 09: Invasive procedures === "This one is not happy with the Student's story." Korn sat in the chair. Wide, padded bands encircled him at calf, thigh, chest, wrist and forehead, securing him so completely that he was almost a part of it. The chair was also padded, and looked more like a couch that might be found in an expensive apartment, rather than an implement of interrogation. This one hasn't moved for... how long is it now? The whole wall in front of the chair was one large screen, again like might be found in a home, but all it showed was Korn and the chair, the feed taken from a camera somewhere near the ceiling. Time was passing strangely; there was nothing really to focus on, other than his interrogators or the image of himself. It was worse when they turned it off so he couldn't see what they were doing behind him. Sometimes it helped to think of the figure in the chair as someone else, perhaps from an entertainment show, like one of those dark spy thrillers. The figure in the chair was unharmed, physically, at least. All its needs were taken care of by catheters and carefully attached blood taps; there was no need for it to ever move again -- which was fortunate, as the only significant motion left to the figure was ears, jaw and eyes. Korn can appreciate the elegance of the machine, even while he wants to rip the throat out of the Person who built it. Alternating pairs of muscles clenched and relaxed in a wave that passed from shoulders to legs. The sensation was uncomfortable, but not painful; the electrostimulation was designed to keep his body healthy, not hurt it. The wave passed, replaced by another. Korn strove to relax; there had never been much questioning while the stimulator was running. Makes sense, he thought, eyes following the movements of the unnamed Agent standing behind him, wouldn't want to influence the analyser. The figure, a grey and black furred female who never shouted or even seemed to be slightly interested in him, leaned back in her own chair, tapping her teeth with one well-manicured claw tip. At least it's not Salrath... Korn shivered, for a moment seeing the delight on her face as she'd tested the white servitor, all those -- Was it megaseconds? -- ago. The Agent appeared to reach a decision, then stood and did something to the back of the chair, causing motors within its frame to lay it out flat. She stood over him, holding a circle of black metal in one paw while tapping it against the other. Korn stared at it, mesmerised by the little lights that ran around the inner rim. The Agent turned the thing over in her paws, then pulled out a translucent, glassy cable from some recess, connecting it to the band. "This one knows that Korn did some research into how the servitors are conditioned; does this look familiar?" Korn worked his jaw, twitching when another ripple of electrostim ran through his chest. "It looks like what they use to administer the Blessing," he said. This one shouldn't be surprised; it's a logical next step. There was only so far you could go with questioning, even with the sophisticated biometric analyser he'd been wired into. "Close. It's a memory interrogation crown... the technology is related, so this one isn't surprised that a scientist like yourself would recognise it." She lowered the thing, placing it gently against his skull. It was warm, even through his fur. There was something potent about it, like it wasn't mere dead metal. Korn let out a quiet whimper, the skin of his scalp crawling at its touch. "W-why all the questions if Security is going to trawl me anyway?" She smiled down at him, the glint of her teeth the only brightness against her shadowed face. "Still thinking, excellent. This one knew Korn was strong where it counted. Memories are funny things, and very hard to read without a guide. All the questions give this one a framework to operate within... a map, if you like." One of her paws moved the underside of the chair, manipulating something out of sight. There was a sudden sense of presence, as if the empty room was crowded with invisible People. Korn gasped, jaw opening wide. "Please, this one's mind is all he has. Don't--" "Korn has only that which the Hive allows him to have. If Korn needs to take solace in something, consider that this one will be gentler than the World Court would be. She may still be able to save him from that fate." A bright light filled Korn's eyes, fading into colours and shapes as an alien presence reached out of the metal and raked its claws through his brain. --curled up with Ithra, feeling her fur between his teeth and her paws on-- The image was strong, so strong that it overrode the discomfort of the process. Sound was there, rapid breathing and the quiet, slow ambient music he'd chosen for the meal a few kiloseconds earlier, and smell, and taste. Someone snorted, the unexpected noise jarring against the perfect recollection. "Of course, it's not always a very good map." The claws tightened, grew barbs and ripped sideways, shredding the memory into disconnected shards of sensation and flickering images. --on his back, claws tight around his throat, watching Salrath run a knife along a white mare's muzzle-- "This looks more like it, but a bit later, this one thinks." --holding a wounded servitor's head, looking into big, pain filled eyes. "This one requisitions-- --at a console, the image of a blue pony suddenly flashing violet and the video feed dissolving into static. A heavy thump, like the slamming of a vault door-- The memories came faster and faster, prodded into the forefront of his mind by the machine. Korn struggled to retain control, drowning under the onslaught while, unnoticed, tears started to run down his cheeks. === Korn let out a hoarse cry, legs windmilling and striking the inner surface of the sleeping den. Eyes wide in the darkness, he kicked back and pushed himself into one of the rounded corners, wrapping his paws around his muzzle until the urge to scream passed and his heart slowed its frantic pace. "Oh Maker, Ithra, have they even told you where this one is?" Letting out a groan, he wiped the tears from his eyes and crawled from the small den, out into the living space. The room was like any one of a number of anonymous business hotels he'd stayed in while travelling to conferences. A single room, with alcoves for sleeping and cleansing, it was blandly furnished; the only thing that really set it aside was the way the few items of furniture were solidly fixed to the floor, and the lack of any way to open the exit door from the inside. Korn slowly climbed to his paws, making a slow and unsteady path to the kitchen nook to take a long drink of water. There was food in the little cupboard, supplies that restocked themselves at unknown intervals. Korn stared at his paws, trying to still the tremor that made the blunt claw-tips vibrate, then balled them into fists and started to pace the few lengths between the door and the opposite wall. Nightmares aside, the grey-and-black Agent had told the truth; they had never hurt him and the process had only taken a few kilosec -- even if that time had seemed to stretch to subjective megaseconds while the machine had rifled through his mind, making him relive all those events over and over again. After that, he'd been deposited in this little room and left alone with his thoughts. "Korn still doesn't know why he's not in a real prison, but he supposes this is an improvement," he muttered to the empty air. It can't have been that long since the servitor's kin had gone berserk, holding Vanca and himself hostage, but the interrogation had been so dislocating that he couldn’t say with any certainty if it had been one day or twenty. The ponies must be dead, so why is this one being treated like this? Korn kept walking, reaching out to tap the door every time he got to that end of his short path, forcing himself to keep going until he'd reached a thousand repetitions. The exercise kept the emptiness at bay for a while, but soon his energy flagged and he slumped in the chair fixed in front of the big wall screen. The setting was disturbingly similar to the interrogation room, although the seat was far less comfortable. More time passed, and the Student gazed into the grey depths of the blank wallscreen, chewing on his now ragged claw tips. Korn just wants to know what happened! Perhaps it would be better in a normal prison... at least this one would get some outside contact. There was a click from somewhere behind him, and Korn hunched in his seat, not daring to turn and see who had opened the door. Breathing accelerating, he screwed his eyes shut, waiting for heavy paws to drag him upright. "Has the Student done nothing with his time?" Korn's head flicked around and he stared, open mouthed at the figure in the doorway. One arm in a sling, she glared at him, the same disappointed expression she always had when he was late with some aspect of their project, or had failed to grasp a theoretical concept that should have been blindingly obvious to any random stranger she might have dragged off the street. "Academician, this one--" Korn scrambled to his paws, practically leaping the few lengths to enfold his supervisor in a hug. "Vanca convinced Security that she needed the Student for her work; don't make this one into a liar," she murmured, then shoved him away. "Now Vanca can finally get some work done... assuming these fools didn't scramble your brains." She turned her glare on the Agent standing just behind her. The presence of the black and grey figure made Korn flinch, and he nervously backed away, only to be stopped short by Vanca's paw around his upper arm. He switched his gaze back to the Academician, taking a vast comfort from her touch. There was a look in her eyes, something he'd never seen before from his supervisor. Vanca is actually relieved to see this one! He relaxed a little, allowing her to pull him a step closer. The Agent had that long suffering look that Korn recognised of old; the expression of a Person who'd just spent the last kilosecond enduring one of Vanca's lectures. "No, Academician; the Student is showing no unusual reactions to the trawl. He will--" Vanca snorted. "This one will see, Agent Lilla. Let's not forget that it was one of Security's own that precipitated all this mess." "The actions of Agent Salrath are a matter for Internal Affairs, and--" Lilla shook her head, her ears folding back, then relaxed. "Vanca and Korn are being allowed some additional freedom while they assist Security with the current problem, and that is all they need to know about the matter." "If Security thinks it will get anything useful from these ones without sharing information, then it will be disappointed," Vanca said, jabbing a paw in the Agent's direction. Lilla gazed at the offending digit with a longing look, as if she wanted to twist it until it came off. "A briefing has been prepared; if the Academician is that keen to start work...?" The Agent waved them into the corridor with a flamboyant gesture, and the group set off. === "Let Vanca get this straight. Despite all the funding Security gets, this is all the data available? If the Institute had one percent of those resources, the amount this one could achieve--" The Academician pushed her chair away from the table in the middle of the conference suite and started to pace the room. "Don't think that Security doesn't wish it were otherwise!" Lilla snapped. "Control of the servitors isn't in these one's remit. Can the scientists help, or would they prefer to return to their confinement?" No! Korn thought, paws clenching into fists. Not alone, not again. "At least it's something, Academician," he said. "If it is possible for a servitor to teleport, and it's not just that they are dead amid the rubble of the Institute, then--" "We have proof that at least one escaped," Lilla said, scowling at Korn, "were you not listening?" Vanca rounded on the Agent, her paw snapping out and ending a claw's width from her muzzle. "The best thing Lilla can contribute is silence," she hissed. "We will assume nothing!" The Agent looked furious, but remained quiet, glaring back at Vanca until the Academician snorted and turned away. "Continue, Student." Korn hunched slightly in his chair at the sudden weight of Vanca's stare. Long habit made him straighten up, knowing that his supervisor was always less forgiving of 'lax' behaviour. "I--" Throat suddenly dry, Korn swallowed, doing his best to ignore the angry glare from the Agent. "Academician, there should be traces of such an event. If the theories are correct, then holding open wormholes within the quantum foam should be observable." The anger left Vanca's face and she had the distant look of a Person engaged in some complex mental task. Korn knew that look of old and kept silent, holding up a paw when the Agent looked like she might say something. If the Agent thinks Vanca was angry before, just interrupt her train of thought... He tried to communicate this silently to Lilla; it must have worked, because she just gritted her teeth and stayed quiet. Vanca's eyes regained their focus. "How would Korn account for the lack of damage within the beam chamber? That much exotic matter would have significant gravitational effects..." She tailed off, and Korn just knew that the Academician already had her answer, and just wanted to see if he could figure it out. Always testing, he thought, slightly irritated, even now. "This one thinks it is down to timescale... if the terminus only exists for a very short time, then the integrated force from the gravitational shear will be limited." "Yessss... and that will be detectable." She rounded on the Agent. "How much access do these ones have? Vanca needs to interrogate the Institute's servers." The Agent's muzzle twisted. "There's no way that Lilla can allow the Academician an external data fee--" "Does Security want proof, or not?" Vanca said, her ears suddenly bolt upright. "If Korn's idea is correct, then it will be possible to detect a teleport event... or would that not be of any interest?" Lilla jerked as if she had been shot. "That's possible?" "Give this one strength," Vanca muttered, rolling her eyes. "Is Lilla the one who has not been listening? Yes, Vanca thinks so. But..." Here she lifted a claw and waggled it in front of the Agent's nose. "...this one needs data to be sure." Korn winced at his supervisor's tone; it was the one she normally used with particularly ignorant undergraduates. The Agent didn't seem to notice, and only lifted her comms bracer to her mouth and murmured something into the microphone. What might detect exotic matter? No, it isn't the exotic matter that will be found, rather the effects of such a brief appearance. Korn closed his eyes, trying to follow Vanca's line of thought. Even with the big accelerator damaged and off line, the detectors would still be operating... Of course! "Do they even keep the raw data from the interferometers? " he said tentatively. "This one knows that a lot is filtered out as noise." "Probably." Vanca paused, looking uncertain, then shrugged. "Vanca thinks so. Anything that is inexplicable should be kept by the data systems for later review -- this one has no doubt that some other student will be tasked with understanding the anomalies as part of a thesis... in a gigasecond or two." Her eyes went back to the Agent, who had one clawed digit up to her ear and was listening intently. "Well?" "This one is to give the Academician everything she needs -- but there will be a fifteen second delay on any requests, to allow inspection." Vanca snorted. "It will have to do, this one supposes." The console embedded in the big central table came alive and the Academician's paws danced over the virtual keypad, only to stare at the display while impatiently drumming her claws on the glass top. Finally the main screen showed her the Institute's familiar interface, and she started to pull out archived data streams from various remote systems. "This one needs ranges to the beam chamber from all the detectors on this arc of the accelerator," she snapped, eyes not leaving her screen. "Yes, Academician," Korn replied automatically, picking another console and connecting to a public access mapping system. It was work of moments to get the required coordinates, then it only took a few seconds more to convert those to distances and speed-of-light delays for each detector. Vanca grabbed the numbers, using them to calibrate the time axis of each of the dozen graphs she'd extracted from the Institute's servers. "There," she said, glancing at Korn, "look at that." The plots, jagged lines covered with random-looking peaks and troughs, filled the floor-to-ceiling screen. "By the Maker," he whispered, "it actually worked!" Lilla moved away from the side of the room, approaching the display. "What is this one looking at? This all looks random. Except..." She lifted a claw, running it down a vertical line, along which were perfectly aligned noise spikes. "Exactly. The detectors don't have good enough time resolution, but they do register something of the pulse. Every single one at the same time -- once Vanca adjusts for the propagation rate of the gravity wave." The Academician looked smug, but even with that self-satisfied grin, Korn could almost feel the excitement rolling off her. So many new discoveries all at once... is this just another thing related to the servitor's new strength? For the first time since he'd been 'rescued' by Security, Korn actually began to feel some hope for his future. Security needs us; this one might get out of this mess after all. "It shouldn't be too difficult to build something a bit more portable than a ten thousand tonne detector array," he said, eyes on the display. At his side, Vanca nodded, starting to sketch out complex equations on a blank screen. "Yes. It won't be pretty, but it can be done. These ones are probably only seeing the fourth or fifth harmonics, so Vanca would expect significantly more sensitivity." This one has always been taught that the servitors are inferior creatures; that they are not people... but Fusion's emotions were very real. All she wanted was to live. The guilty thought flicked through Korn's mind and he paused, paw midway through dismantling a virtual engineering model of one of the accelerator's detectors. His eyes drifted to Agent Lilla, standing by the door and carrying out an animated conversation with someone on her communicator. That's all this one wants, too, he thought, gritting his teeth and continuing his work. === Redshift awoke to the sound of somepony breathing and the sharp smell of pine. There was a memory of cloying mud and wires wrapped tight enough to cut flesh, stark and fresh, and somehow coupled to the dismembered body of a Master bigger than a tree. Eyes snapping open, he jerked upright, wings and legs flailing as he struggled to his hooves. "Shock! Where are you-- Oh!" Shaking some springy, prickly stuff from his hind legs, he looked around wildly, then slumped. "Oh," he said in a quiet voice, ears drooping. Confused, the stallion took a hesitant step, bumping against something soft and warm. Looking down, his eyes widened. Packed in the small, wood-lined chamber were ten ponies, all sleeping, but with the little movements that marked them out as dreaming deeply. Two of them... "What the hay...?" he murmured, bending down for a closer look. Their manes were... odd. One shimmered with waves of pastel light, while the other was the deep blue of a dusk sky and seemed to drink in the light; the illusion of oncoming night was made all the more real by a scattering of stars that seemed far further away than they should be. All the while, both flowed gently, as if they were in the grip of a gentle breeze, though the air in the chamber, while fresh, was completely still. They both showed signs of injury; fresh-looking scars with all the hallmarks of thaumic medicine, all nearly hidden by a short stubble of new fur. The blue one was in by far the worst state; her flanks and legs peppered with the remains of cuts, burns and punctures. Redshift leaned back and shook his head, trying to shed what must be a strange hallucination. At the rear of the dreaming pile was another one who was different from the rest; he asleep but wasn't dreaming, and his legs, lumpy, swollen things, were held rigid by metal armatures. "I know you... you're Packet Switcher. What in the Maker's name happened to you?" And where in the Maker's name am I? Redshift switched briefly into shadow sight and gasped -- outside of the ten ponies in the chamber, there was nothing but blackness as far as he could see. The scene inside the chamber did nothing to reassure him. Only eight of the ponies had the normal, healthy glow of magic playing along their wings and horns; unlike the others, the two strange mare's entire bodies were lit up like blown glass sculptures, their colours matching those of their disturbingly mobile manes. Subtle magic coiled out from the blue pony, tangling all the others in complex, ever-changing webwork. The stallion opened his eyes, pushing away the arcane mystery. The only real light in the room came through cracks in branches pressed into a narrow entrance, so Redshift carefully stepped between the bodies, then pushed his way past the branches and into the outside world. There were trees everywhere, spindly things that were very different from the broad-leaved fruit trees from the orchards around the corral. The air was cold and fresh, and completely alien to anything he'd experienced before. There was a rustling noise behind him and he whirled around. "Redshift? Are you okay?" The voice was young and a little hesitant, with a hint of caution, as if its owner was watching him like you might a biting insect. It was the pony with the mobile, pastel mane, and he finally recognised her. "Fusion? The last thing I remember was fire and suffocation..." "It was fugue... you fell in to it a few days ago. I don't know the exact circumstances, but I do know it will never happen again." "You seem to be making a habit of being the first pony I see after the Test," he murmured, trying to identify what was missing. Ever since I woke up, there's been something different. He probed his memories, coming back with an image of the oversized Master holding Shock between her shelter-sized paws. He shivered, a foul taste at the back of his throat. "The Maker has gone from my head..." His legs folded and he sank to his belly amid the pine needles. The white mare walked slowly over, sitting down facing him. "What do you think about that?" Ears drooping, she lowered her head until it was at his level. Redshift stared back into those violet eyes, filled with sorrow and understanding, at a loss for anything to say. She did this to me. He shook his head. "I... I really don't know. I feel like I should hate you for this... but I don't." Tears started to run down his muzzle and he bowed his head. "Where is my Shock? Is he okay?" "He's been through a lot, but he's safe for now," Fusion said softly, "along with the other twenty-three foals that Security took from the training centre. They are at Naraka; I don't know why." She sighed, fluttering her wings. "I have my suspicions. The Blessing works on a pony's guilt, and that requires sufficient indoctrination. If you treat a pony badly enough, especially one who's only just been Blessed, then the Dogs have to be worried that it won't work." Ears flattening, Redshift let out a whinny. "What have they done to him? You said--" "Not to him," Fusion said quickly, "but to Random. Security kept them all together for a while. She was repeatedly taken out of the foal's cage and put through a kind of artificial sharing. I don't know exactly what it was she was forced to do... but she escaped fugue by pulling out her own feathers." Fusion's voice became tight, her face fixed. "They allowed me two kiloseconds with her... even then, she was losing her grip on reality. Shock and the rest witnessed their teacher apparently being punished for trying to protect them, and watched her fall apart over the course of several days." "What do you plan to do? Those other ponies... they are all the sires or dams of the foals in Shock's group." Redshift was silent for a moment, then gazed up at the little slivers of daylight visible through the dense tree canopy. "They were all in fugue, weren't they?" "Yes... it's a long story, but ended up with you and all the others without their Blessings. At the moment Gravity is showing the others a little of what we can do... would you like to join them?" --light, a blinding electric hue, piercing the clouds and bringing down the creature that was tormenting Shock-- Not trusting himself to speak, Redshift nodded. === The cheerful, chaotic jumble of corral twenty-seven, with its brightly-coloured shelters and encircling orchards and fields, was stitched with ragged craters. Greasy black smoke boiled up from the gaping hole that was once the feedstock bunker, adding a dark stain to an already murky sky. Fires burned in a dozen places, many the hard blue-white of failing superconductors, and bright enough to cast multiple, flickering shadows. Near-blinding though they were, nothing could hide the fact that at the core of each was a bulky, four-legged figure in smashed and broken armour. Scores of other corpses littered the fields and burnt-out groves of trees. Some were bound with tentacles of rock that had exploded from beneath their paws; these still moved in a ghastly semblance of life as the thick ropes of living silicate continued to twist and contract, filling the air with the gunshot cracks of fracturing ceramics. Others were little more than neat collections of red-stained armour and equipment, at the centre of congealing pools that were the liquefied remains of their owners. Most, however, had simply been bludgeoned until they stopped moving. Sharing the battlefield with the gryphons were ponies, looking fragile and vulnerable next to the armoured soldiers, their pastel coats stained with blood and soot. The manner of their passing was not so varied as that of the troopers; most sported great, gaping wounds where projectiles had ripped their insides to ruin. Many had greeted their deaths calmly, lying down in little family groups to face their executioners. Despite the carnage, low-slung, winged shapes continued to dash from cover to scant cover, followed at a distance by four-armed bipeds. Their target was at the centre of the corral, and they poured fire towards the black pyramid of the Church. The building glowed with flickering patches of green and orange, flaring brightly where magic intercepted a fast moving missile or heavy railgun projectile. The lighter ammunition of the individual gryphons was ignored, and continued to blast craters in the stonework. Stroboscopic pulses of green light flared bright enough to dim the sun, all the dust and smoke in the beam path flashing to incandescent vapour in an instant. The laser was unimpeded by the arcane defences and the top quarter of the pyramid burst asunder, showering the corral with hissing fragments and raising screeches of pain from a few unfortunate attackers. The green magic vanished, leaving only the orange. A shape, surrounded by a hazy field of tangerine light, darted from the battered building. All at once, lines of fire converged on it, replied to by jagged lightning the colour of a sunset. It was too little, too late, and the orange light winked out, leaving a bloody figure to drop limply the ground. Gravity picked a spot and gave herself form. Standing over the broken body of the last pony, she bent over, looking into his sightless eyes with annoyance. "Do you understand what you did wrong, Scalar?" The head, hornless and with part of the skull missing where some projectile had ripped it away, rolled its remaining eye upwards and glared at her. "You go too far; there was no way we could possibly win against that many--" "No, and that was rather the point." The blue mare sighed, losing some of her irritation. "Surely you realised that something like this would happen? The Dogs will respond with overwhelming force, especially now they know a little of what they face." Scalar's smashed head became whole in a wave of rectification that expanded out from Gravity, wiping away the wreckage and death. The shelters disappeared as well, leaving behind a dispersed collection of angry ponies. The stallion rolled upright and stared at her for a moment, then got to his hooves. "I also think I could have convinced my mate to come with us." "Probably, but this isn't certain. I've seen what happens when a pony refuses to even think about this kind of thing, and it's not pretty." She fixed him with a hard stare. "Anyway, you had to understand the consequences of your choice." She raised her voice, turning to look at the others. "All of you. Just because that trick of Fusion's makes you much stronger, doesn't mean you are invulnerable." "No kidding," muttered Triple Point, carefully twisting her head from side-to-side, as if afraid it would come off. "That damn gryphon bit my throat out and it hurt--" Gravity snorted. "You are all ponykind has, and the sooner you realise that, the better. It's important to fight, but it's also important to live." The blue mare's ears twitched, and she turned to look a Fusion, who'd just blinked into being, a confused- and stunned-looking Redshift in tow. "Ah-ha! The last pony awakes -- are you ready for a little practice?" she said, smiling broadly and advancing on the pair. Redshift's head snapped around to focus on Gravity; ears folding back, he took a step backwards. "I... I..." "Perhaps something a little more gentle... Red has only just joined us and doesn't know the basics." Fusion said, stepping between her sister and the increasingly nervous-looking Redshift. "Try not to look like you are enjoying this too much," she whispered, so faintly that it was only Gravity's complete control over the sharing environment that allowed her to hear the words at all. Gravity seemed to deflate a little. "Sorry, Redshift. Sometimes I forget how much of a shock all this is when you first discover the truth. Come on, I'll start from the beginning -- but based on what I've seen, you will have no problems." "You... you were the voice in my dream!" "We were both there," Gravity said, looking a little guilty. "We had a bad experience when we tried to convince Packet, and that seemed like the most reliable way to understand you." "You were very convincing," Fusion murmured. "Anyway, I'm sure the rest of you would like a break from my sister's idea of fun -- I have some more magic for you, something that will make this kind of fight more survivable, if you can master it." She nodded to Gravity, then blinked out, followed by the others in quick succession. Scalar was the last to leave, scowling fiercely at the blue mare as he dropped from the sharing. Redshift looked at her uncertainly, unconsciously pawing the ground as Gravity regarded him. I guess in a dream we can be a hero without the repercussions of the real world. She smiled gently, allowing her sharing to evaporate into a grey mist that encroached from all sides. "Come on, let's go somewhere real." A little shove pushed him from her mind, and she let the grey wash over her. The small wood-lined chamber was empty, the only sign of any past occupancy the receding sounds of hoof on dirt. Gravity yawned and stretched stiff muscles, arching her back and bending her neck to place her head between her forelegs. Other body parts, long disconnected from her mind by the sharing, also voiced their complaints, so she stepped through the opening and out between the trees, gesturing for Redshift to follow her. "Hungry?" she said, sorting through the pile of stolen equipment, coming up with a set of rations and passing them to the stallion. "Once we've eaten, I'll set up another sharing and show you what--" she paused, staring at his expression. "Can't you just tell me? I don't think I can take too much more right now." He took the food, unwrapping the block and starting to nibble at the edges with little, nervous bites, his gaze never leaving her. Gravity shrugged. "If you'd prefer, but you really do need to see how to use your magic in a fight -- and it's not safe to do that outside a sharing." The look of incipient panic left his eyes and he nodded gratefully. "Fusion told me a little of it..." He listened in silence as Gravity spoke, slowly working his way through the sugary mix of grain and highly compressed hay. Soon finished, his eyes drifted to the rest of the equipment pile, searching the confusing jumble of shapes for anything recognisable. "You want some more?" Gravity's horn lit and she opened a pack on the edge of the pile. "No," Redshift said slowly. "What is all this stuff? Why did you bother taking it from the Masters?" His own horn glowed, and blue light plucked a pony skull-shape from the pile. He turned it over, watching light glint off the bulbous lenses that covered the eyes. "At the time we had no idea what we'd find useful." Gravity laughed, a short, humourless chuckle. "Time. Yes, that was the problem. The Dog was nipping at my fetlocks, so I grabbed everything and jumped away. Only really wanted the emergency kits and food." She went silent, staring at the helmet as Redshift examined it. The inside was still redolent of sweat and explosives residues, stained by traces of rusty brown near the eyes and muzzle. Something twisted in Gravity's gut, and she forced down the urge to snatch the armour fragment from the stallion's magical grasp. "Not that piece, Redshift," she said in a strained voice, struggling to see past the vision of the dead security mare slumped in the ruined corridor. She's probably still buried there... I'm doing this for you, Parapet. You and Slipstream and all the others that I'll never know. Staring into the blank, fish-eyed visor, she felt her heart thunder and magic start to rise, unbidden, in her mind. Redshift must have seen something in her eyes, because he shied away, wings flaring in preparation for flight. "Sorry," he said in a small voice, gently placing the helmet on the ground, "I didn't mean... that was from the pony who--" He searched for the right word, ears folding back. The sight of the fear in the stallion's face was like being doused with icy water and Gravity's rapidly building rage was washed away. "Don't apologise," she muttered, "I thought I was beginning to get over that." Sighing, she shook her head. Now, where were we... "Do you mind if I take a look at the rest of this stuff? I'm not sure I'm up to a fight like you showed the others." "Ah... your talent is something electronic, yes?" I know next to nothing about these mechanisms... having some idea of their actual capabilities would be useful. Gravity looked at him with interest, eyes narrowing. "Mostly interfacing crystal thaumic systems with solid state devices, but I had a good grounding in the electronics side," he said, cautiously. "Anything you can find, any magical vulnerability that you can show me, will be very useful. No matter what my sister wants, this is going to end in a fight." === The familiar rhythms of the work helped keep the gnawing emptiness at the core of his mind at bay. Now the dislocating strangeness had faded, thoughts of Shock, caged like one of the cattle on the Master's farms, threatened to destroy his composure at every turn. Without the work, he felt he was nothing more than a paper-thin shell over the void. There were a multitude of puzzles here. The first was a physical one, which had him baffled until he realised that the pieces were not all designed for an equine body plan. Once he understood that, it was trivial to separate out the curved plates and armatures into gryphon and pony. The gryphon armour was especially easy to identify -- not because of the different shapes, but because of the surface damage. In few places, under the belly, or between the legs, the armour was intact, complete with its smooth coating of adaptive polymer, loaded with chromatophores and the simple systems that powered them. Denied access to the larger network that laced the whole suit -- still visible as slender grooves on the undersides of the plates -- they had fallen back to their default settings. Where he put them down, they slowly changed colour to match the soft fuzz of decaying pine needles. Humming softly to himself, Redshift examined each piece in turn, fitting them together as distorted, flattened maps of once three-dimensional objects. The vast majority of plates held some level of damage. Simple abrasion accounted for much of this; areas where the polymer top coat had been removed by greater or lesser levels of force. At the centres of these zones were patches of microcracking, where the armour had powdered without deformation to soak up some of the forces. Experimentally, the stallion tried to bend one of the plates; in the silence between the trees he could hear little tinkling noises as the metaloceramic composite absorbed his efforts, but it didn't flex until it failed completely. Even then it only bent, and was held together despite the fractures. Frowning, he probed the armour plate, tasting the regular arrangement of carbon atoms that laced the material. "Fullerenes," he murmured, breathing heavily from the exertion, "nothing else is that strong." He put the plate down and stared thoughtfully at the pony armour he'd managed to partially assemble. "We will always be out-numbered," he muttered. "I don't care how strong you are now, Grav, your attention is limited." The mare had said she'd try to show him how to copy that strange, frightening level of power, but there had been a peculiarly resigned tone to her words. Sighing, he picked up part of a tangle of webbing, packs and unidentifiable lumps of hardware and started to pull it apart, sorting it into piles after a cursory inspection. The weapon is the obvious place to start, Redshift thought. Short, no more than half the length of his foreleg, it looked deceptively simple until he probed it with his magic. Dense solenoid coils of superconductor lined the barrel, right up to the flared end. Outside that were little hexagonal crystals, making the internals of the thing look like a product of highly sophisticated bees. Power still lurked in the weapon's storage packs, so he carefully experimented with the management systems, trying to bring it to life. There were computers in each of the sections, in constant communication through well-protected lengths of optic fibre, and most were dedicated to maintaining the very precise sequence of current pulses needed to propel whatever-it-was down the barrel. Alongside each were small modules that gave permission to operate, and it was these that were the problem. Ha! It looks like the Masters don't trust their troops. It's all part of the same lump of computronium, so I can't just cut them out... He reached in, manipulating the atom-fine wires in the tiny cube of solid state circuitry until the security components enthusiastically complied with any request the rest of the system had for them. Sitting back, he hefted the gun, plucking a single projectile from one of the packs and setting it spinning in front of his muzzle. It was only small; a slender needle of dense metal half embedded within a cylinder of ruby crystal. The hexagonal crystals in the barrel confine the magnetic field, while this gives it an extra kick. The next projectile was of a different design. Fatter, just narrow enough to fit down the barrel, it was a complex mechanism in its own right. Behind the armoured nose was a collection of microengineered sensors and a fragment of computronium no larger than a grain of sand; it was the work of a moment to trace the signalling pathways and divine its purpose. Accelerometers and a high speed clock, all so that when it hits something... Redshift looked at the rest of the projectile, his ears drooping as he examined the tight-packed ranks of ceramic needles arrayed around a core of some high density organic material. So it knows what it hits, and can wait until it is inside something soft... The muscles of his flanks contracted in sympathy, and he felt dizzy. Imagine this thing striking Shock; no veterinarian in the world could save a pony from that. This is the true face of the Masters. The revelation made him cold inside, and he placed both of the objects back in the container. So all I need to do is place the projectile storage pack there, and... Magic made straightening out the damaged feed chute easy, and the gun swallowed the ammunition with a satisfying tick. The stallion moved the thing in a short arc, pointing the barrel at the trunk of one of the trees. Intently studying the guts of the weapon, he tapped the trigger bar with a tiny flicker of magic. Ten of the projectiles vanished before he could do more than blink in surprise. The gun jumped in his grip, and there was a rapid crack-crack-crack, the individual sounds almost too close to distinguish and loud enough to make his ears ring. At the same instant, splinters exploded out from the tree he'd aimed at, and a couple of trees either side, filling his little clearing with haze and sawdust. Redshift blinked in the sudden silence, then flinched as a quick succession of flashes -- white, violet, orange, and several other colours -- lit the underside of the trees, accompanied by the thump of displaced air. In the space of a breath, he was surrounded by anxious-looking ponies, all with lit horns and exuding the static-electric feel of active magic. Moments later, all those worried looks transformed to irritation and annoyance. Redshift's ears folded flat and he looked up at the sound of crashing branches. Three ponies, all breathing heavily and wild-eyed, dropped straight down through the canopy, swerving to avoid hitting those who had teleported in. "Um... whoops?" "Maker-dammit, Redshift! You're a stallion, not some foal still wet from his dam!" Scalar snarled, ripping the weapon from his grasp in a nimbus of orange fire. "Why are you even bothering with this junk? Even your magic is stronger than that." He swung the gun through a fast arc, aiming for a tree-trunk, only to have it intercepted by a flash of white-gold. "Look on the bright side, Scalar... for all your talk about how badly designed the teleport spell is, you managed to cast it in an emergency." The orange stallion snorted, but some of his anger faded. "A few of you need a bit more practice, but your reflexes are good." Fusion turned to look at the rest of the ponies, who had started to grin. "This is excellent -- you thought one of our own was in danger, and you galloped to help." "Nopony died, I suppose," Scalar muttered, "perhaps it would be a good idea to get rid of all this stuff before there are any more accidents." He glared at Redshift, but some of the heat had left his gaze. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. I was just seeing what could be done with these," Redshift said meekly, as the ponies filtered away, back to whatever Fusion was doing with them. I must get her or Gravity to teach me that trick, he thought, watching with bemusement as a couple vanished into thin air. "Don't worry -- although I'd prefer a warning next time." Gravity accepted the gun from Fusion, watching as she left with the other ponies, then turned back to Redshift. "I should really show you some of the magic we've picked up in the last few days," she said, grinning at the stallion's enthusiastic nod. "And then I think we should let everypony experience fending off that weapon..." Her smile became wide, with a glint of teeth between her lips. "Scalar can go first." === With part of her mind, Gravity watched as Redshift applied the twist Fusion had invented to his telekinetic efforts, while the rest of her attention was on the other group. Little pulses of magic popped like fireworks in the darkness of the shadow universe, suddenly jumping from location to location. They'd discussed the best way to train the teleport spell, with its strange, highly customisable pattern, to the rest of the ponies, and in the end Gravity had left it to Fusion to train the group. I think I'll be okay with just one pony... we'll see. In the real world, a large fallen tree-trunk creaked, lifting slightly off the ground while a gentle fog of ice crystals dusted the fur on her flanks with silver. Absently, she burned them away with a flicker of power. "You see? Just apply that modification when you exercise your magic, and everything is that much easier." "I could have lifted that without this, but it would have been a struggle," Redshift said, voice filled with wonder. "Is this what allowed you to do all that... that stuff when you rescued Fusion?" "Sort of; there's a little more to it than that." And will you be able to do what we do, Redshift? "We'll get to that later. First, let's try that teleport spell." She felt his interest sharpen, then turn to confusion at the sight of the complex arcane pattern she created and left hanging in the void. "Where did all this come from? Natural progression I can understand, or just accidental discovery -- that power enhancement is novel, but at least I can see how you might stumble upon it. This, though..." His power tentatively reached through the complexity, feeling through the strands of nascent spellstuff. "How did you ever come up with it?" Gravity shifted her weight, rolling from one side to the other. "That's not an easy question to answer, and you should really talk to Fusion about it; it's all her work. She said it just appeared in her head while she was being experimented upon. She was dying, I think... her Master had decided that the work was more important than her life, and that was that." "I guess funny things can happen, the mind reaching in strange directions out of desperation." The stallion went silent, staring at the coil of light that twisted in his shadow sight. "But this isn't like any pony-made magic I've ever seen... even in a fever-dream I could never come up with a hundredth of this." "I've shared her memories of that time. Everything is blurry and surreal, but I think she's right. Something gave the magic to her, something that wanted her to escape the accelerator." Redshift stared at her in awe. "That can only mean one thing, surely," he said in a reverential whisper. "The Blessing may be a lie given to us by the Masters--" "Dogs. Call them Dogs." "Right. Given to us by the Dogs," he said hesitating over the word and looking uncomfortable, "but the Maker is real!" "Talk to Fusion, if you really want to know," Gravity said, making a cutting gesture with one wing. "At the moment I only care that it works, and is something that gives us an edge over the Dogs. Now, this section here relates to your destination, so what you need to do is encode a suitable memory of a place--" The mare demonstrated and the lesson continued. A kilosecond later and, with Gravity watching nervously, Redshift managed his first jump, blinking from one side of the clearing to the other. At least I could show him how to avoid the problems I had making the thing work; he's mastered the spell far faster than I did. She smiled in satisfaction as he did another jump, this time misjudging the exit and appearing half a body length above ground. One of the benefits of not being shot at. Laughing, the stallion stumbled, then tripped and fell to his belly, wings flicking out just too late to catch his fall. Breathing heavily, he grinned back at her, pure exhilaration in his eyes, exactly like he was a colt back from his first flight. "Before you tire yourself out practicing that, there's one more thing to try. You may have noticed this--" Gravity gave her tail a swish, flicking a cascade of not-quite-hair in Redshift's direction. Pinpoints of light shimmered in its dark depths, far further away than they should have been for a mere material object. "--it's a side-effect of what makes Fusion and I so strong. My sister managed it first, but we haven't had much luck showing other ponies how to do it. You'll need to open the sharing this time; I'll guide you from inside." === Redshift nodded, closing his eyes. Gravity was there, a hard-edged knot of alien thought at the back of his mind, like a seed in an apple, gently prodding his efforts outwards. There were odd sensations and feelings in the outer darkness; weight moving in concentric circles while, much further away, a distant point of something radiated warmth on everything. Muzzle wrinkling, he tried to catch a hold of those fleeting presences, but it was like they were half remembered dreams, fading to the barest wisp of recollection as a pony awoke. Gravity kept urging him onwards, but nothing he did made any difference; frustrated, he finally pushed her away and dropped from the sharing. "There's something... but it's too faint. The others had the same problem?" "They did," the mare said, ears drooping. "I really don't understand why. When I did it, it was like it was waiting for me... I don't think I could have avoided it, even if I wanted to. Let me show you from my point of view." The world went black as she dragged him into her sharing. Redshift panicked for a moment, struggling against that irresistible pull, then forced himself to relax. "Hey! Take it easy," he mumbled, body not quite responding in time with his thoughts. Sorry; still don't quite know my own strength. There was a sudden sense of expansion, of his awareness spreading from his body like oil dropped on water. In the periphery were things, massive, threatening objects that moved with terrible speed, prowling the outer darkness like sharks within the ocean depths. Redshift recoiled and tried to bolt, but Gravity's will held him fast. No! Get away, get away! The terror only lasted for a moment; the blue mare released him, sending him tumbling back to his body. The headlong flight carried over into the real world, and Redshift finally came to his senses, huddled and shivering against the spiky trunk of a large pine tree. "Never do that again," he wheezed, sweat pouring down heaving flanks. "How can you stand that?" Gravity, looking alarmed, was already on her hooves and cantering over, skidded to a sudden stop when he cringed. "Are you okay, Redshift?" she said, tentatively. "None of the others enjoyed the experience, but nopony reacted quite so... vigorously. I'll leave you for a bit; we can start again later." Racing heart finally starting to slow, the stallion pushed away from the tree and straightened up. "No, I'll be fine." He offered her a ghost of a smile, taking a small step in her direction. "It's been an unusual day. In any case, if I understand what Fusion has in mind, it's not like I'll be able to sit back on my haunches, is it?" Gravity was silent, her expression saying all it needed to. Redshift nodded. "I thought so. You'll need every wing, every hoof, every horn, until it's over. One way or another." "We will win... the Dogs just don't understand that things have changed, but they will, and soon," Gravity said, reaching forward to brush the stallion's muzzle with her own. "Come on, let's get started. I need to show you how to get through your first encounter." Nodding, Redshift folded his legs and settled to the ground. "That thing you showed me, does Fusion have something similar?" he blurted out, ears pricking up and eyes going wide. What did she say? All this new magic just appeared when 'she needed it most'? "The Maker gave Fusion that magic," he whispered, unable to take his eyes off Gravity. "so that presence you and she feel, that must be the Maker!" There was awe in his voice now, any trace of fear or worry gone. "And it won't talk to anypony else... " "Ah... I suppose you could see it that way. I don't really believe that the Make--" "Don't you see?" he said, voice breathy with excitement. "It all makes sense -- the lie of the Blessing, the fact that you were both chosen..." Gravity stared at him, brow wrinkled. "If... if that helps you with this, then yes, why not?" She cleared her throat, wings fluttering. "Shall we get started?" We're doing the Maker's work! Redshift nodded, mane bobbing vigorously, then closed his eyes and waited for Gravity's mind to scoop him up. === She has a real talent for mayhem, Fusion thought, sweeping through the memory of a sky. Clouds dotted the blue emptiness, but these were not the white, puffy things beloved of the weather teams. Long, curving, screw-shaped contrails, their paths becoming more frantic and tightly curled as they progressed, laced the sky. A couple ended in greasy-looking black smuts, replete with the drifting motes of feathers. Other deaths were less vaguely marked. Many burned, falling with the deceptive slowness of the small amid the vast; black dots tumbled from the heavens like ash from a volcanic cloud, trailing yellow flames and sooty smoke as they fell. Here and there, armoured spheroids moved with unnatural swiftness, propelled by eye-searing jets of blue-white. Around them, ethereal disks pulsed, placing themselves between the frantically manoeuvring vehicles and the other entities in the sky. At intervals, objects would leap from briefly opened ports, darting out at tremendous accelerations towards their targets. Figures swathed in gossamer fields of pastel light batted the projectiles aside, ending their head-long flights in dazzling flashes as superconducting drives quenched. The arcane fighters moved like nothing in the natural world, their trajectories interrupted by sudden jumps to different parts of the sky. Sound was a laggard companion in the battle; the stunning whip-crack of explosions smeared into a continuous, rolling thunder. An orange pony-shape, made large enough to see at this distance by the flicker-flash of the magic that surrounded it, accelerated tremendously in what seemed to be a random direction, then vanished. At the same instant it reappeared, right next to, and on the same vector as, one of the spheroids. Magic pulsed, overwhelming the faint field that tried to surround the vehicle, and antennae, miniature turrets and fragments of armour were ripped free in a moment, fountaining out from its hull. Lines of light, as straight and immediate as a predator's thought, lanced through the frantic volume, illuminating the aerial battlefield with unnatural, monochrome pulses, but failed to strike down the attacker. The rigid plates of fullerene-metaloceramic gave way to more varied components, then the vehicle's drive went out and its trajectory curved towards the distant ground. The orange pony leapt away, wings twisting as, behind it, the vehicle came apart in disparate fragments. The machine burst from the inside, not explosively, but after sectioning with planes of red light. Two bipeds tumbled free, snatched up by a crimson-glowing shape birthed from the rear part of the wreck. Wings pumping frantically, the loyal pony fled the fight, dragging the crew with him. Looks like Scalar is taking the opportunity to work off a little anger, Fusion thought, following the stallion as he ploughed into a flock of gryphon troops that had been disgorged from a high-flying arrowhead transporter. The panic was palpable, even at this range, and broken shapes were tumbling from the feathery cloud. Scalar was teleporting with wild abandon, making short, choppy jumps to confuse his victims. Further away, another pony closed on the transporter, while two more fended off the escort spheroids. Green lightning clawed at the flanks of the larger aircraft, first skittering over invisible defences, then finding an opening and striking the body, leaving behind a spider-web of scars that trailed pale streamers of vaporised ceramics and metal oxides. The attacking pony vanished as probing lines of light raked his position, but never reappeared. Fusion looked on in interest, then winced as a fiercely radiant plane of green light clipped off one wing and flank of the aircraft, and the machine started to break up in mid air. You'd have to do that from the inside, Fusion thought, watching the flash of hostile magic from within the vehicle, as the ponies it carried tried to fight their attacker. I wonder how big a field I could make, if I really tried? Setting the field is the hard part, and it gets exponentially more difficult with increasing range and size, but still... The five ponies in the belly of the carrier should have been able to overpower Thermocline, but it looked like the stallion was intent on making their task as awkward as possible. Bipedal shapes flew out of the yawning rent, propelled at unnatural speed by his telekinesis. First one, then all, of the ponies jumped clear of the wreck; wings folded, they fell after their Masters, trying to break his grip. The sight sent a shiver down Fusion's spine, but she hardened her heart. It is better than the alternative; he could have just killed them. At least this is the perfect distraction for their ponies. Turning her back on the now ebbing tides of the battle, Fusion stretched her wings, circling upwards and searching for her sister. She found Gravity perched on a cloud, high above the action. From this altitude, the sharing environment showed some signs of actually having a boundary; there were distortions, and sightlines were corrupted by strange curves, as if the whole creation took place within a sphere of perfect crystal. In here, she could look like anything, but there was a natural tendency for the imagined body image to follow reality. Sweat had lathered Gravity's flanks, gluing feathers and fur into matted clumps spotted with foam. Her ears were flat back, and her head moved in jerky arcs, mirrored by the frantic motion of her eyes under closed lids. Fusion's eyes widened at the state of her sister; even as she watched, the mare inhaled a great, heaving gasp, letting the air back out with a long groan. She reached for her power to interrupt the sharing, but stopped when Gravity turned towards her, eyes still shut. "Don't; nearly done... there!" In the distorted distance, the last spheroidal airtank disappeared within an expanding fireball. "Oh, thank the Maker; I need a break," she said, slumping like she was made of some viscous liquid. "You certainly do! Kick all those ponies out this instant!" Fusion said, voice tight with anger. "It does us no good if you kill yoursel--" The connection snapped, leaving the mare shaking her head to clear a sudden surge of coloured lights expanding across her vision. Blinking, Fusion climbed to her hooves, following Gravity out of the little chamber and leaving the rest of the herd to regain their senses. The blue mare fanned her wings and arched her back, spraying the trees with droplets of sweat. "Back in a second," she called over her shoulder, then leapt into the air and flew down the mountainside towards the river. Fusion looked after her and sighed, then turned to see Scalar step out between the trees. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself, Scalar. Getting the hang of it?" She felt a pang of guilt; after their encounter with the deer, Gravity hadn't pressed her on joining the training sessions. I'm probably the least ready pony out of all of them. The thought made her ears droop and stomach twist. The stallion scowled back. "That sister of yours is a monster, how she--" Fusion's ears went back and her magic closed around the big stallion like a vice. Scalar let out a started snort and tried to pull away, horn flaring, but she deflected his magic and gave him a hard shake that made his teeth click together. "Whatever you do, do not say that to her face," Fusion said in a fierce whisper, dragging him closer. "It's taken me kiloseconds to convince her that all the terrible things she's had to do don't make her that!" All the sacrifices, all the pain we've been through, and he dares-- The mare ground her teeth together, forcing the words out. "It hit her very hard -- if it wasn't for Gravity we'd all be dead!" Scalar, frozen by her magic, inhaled as deeply as he could, staring back at her through wide and frightened eyes. "I didn't mean anything by it, only that she seems to be very good at this," he whispered. Fusion let him go, her anger draining away as fast as it had arrived. What have I done? "Maker, Scalar. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--" He ducked his head, looking away. "I know I have a big mouth. I didn't think... but this is very hard on all of us, you know? My world has been shattered by this..." He tailed off into a mumble, then sighed, staring at his hooves for a moment before lifting his head again. "I'll try not to let my big mouth gallop away with itself, if you try not to kill me if it does. Deal?" Fusion winced, then smiled slightly. He jokes about it, but it would be so easy to lose control. "Deal," she said, leaning forwards to brush his muzzle with her own. All of the tension left him, and he turned away, gesturing with a wing towards the lake and the other base. "There was something I actually wanted to talk to you about. What you have here won't do for much longer, and I've seen the place you dug out. It... Quite frankly, it won't do, especially for the numbers of ponies that this may involve." "I know." Fusion chewed at her lips. "If you think you can build something suitable please do so... just remember what we're up against. I really don't know anything about tunnel construction." "That's certainly obvious," he muttered to himself, turning away and poking his head back through the branches blocking the way into the shelter. An indistinct conversation followed, and the rest of the herd came out into the clearing. Scalar nodded to Fusion, then sprang into the air, followed by everypony except Redshift. His gaze followed their path for a moment, head tilting back and mane flopping over his withers, before bringing his eyes back to the ground and turning to Fusion. "I've got something for you... I was looking at the armour, before the... accident with the gun." He trotted forward, starting to root through the piles of equipment, pulling out curved plates of some mottled grey-brown material and placing them on the ground. Between them he attached a complex series of straps, until it looked like the flayed skin of a giant lizard. "There's also an undersuit, but that's mostly coolant systems and you don't need it right now." There was a fluttering sound, and Gravity touched down next to Fusion. She was soaking wet, and absently shook her mane while watching Redshift intently. "Anything interesting?" "I just thought that it might be useful to have some protection that didn't rely on magic; I mean, you can't concentrate on everything at once." Gravity picked up the harness, spreading it out in the air over a hazy replica of a pony's form. She had a peculiar look on her face, and that made the stallion hesitate. "I didn't use the parts from the one that..." He swallowed, gesturing to a small pile off to one side. The blue mare nodded gratefully, and draped the harness over her back. Violet magic flickered and flashed, attaching fastenings and smoothing down fur. Redshift's own telekinesis joined the arcane dance, and it only took a few breaths to complete the fitting. Gravity lifted the helmet, sliding it over her muzzle and clipping it around her horn. She turned, pushing her wings through the carapace plates and spreading them wide. "Well, what do you think?" Fusion shivered, then smiled, a wan thing that matched the droop of her ears. Patches of dark blue were spreading over the suit, starting at the muzzle and wingroots, turning it to match the colour of Gravity's coat. "It's very you." Something tickled at the back of her head, not a new presence, but something missing. What is-- Gravity gasped. "That's the crystal, the one I gave to Spiral--" she said in a strangled tone. Heart racing, Fusion probed where the distant flicker had been. Maker, no! She looked up, meeting her sister's suddenly wide-eyed, excited stare, and her stomach twisted. "I'll go in; you stay back. I don't want us to both fall into a trap." Gravity opened her mouth, but Fusion shook her head. "No arguments. It might be nothing... but if Spiral is in trouble, then you are the best mare to pull us both out."