Mike climbed out of his truck, stretching to relieve his back of some tension before closing his driver's side door. Glancing around, he took note of the restaurant and its parking lot. Someone had generously salted the parking area as well as the walkway in front of the building; no ice was present. In contrast, the cedar hedge at the north end of the lot had buckled; bowed flat to the ground from its load of ice. Apparently throwing salt on the hedge was not an option.
The restaurant itself was fronted with large glass windows whose light offered a beckoning warmth to Mike; standing as he was in the chill temperatures outside.
Mike circled around the back of his truck, expecting to help Twilight but found that she had already exited the vehicle.
Well so much for chivalry. He thought. It’s funny how I'm putting myself all out for my alien visitor. I'm all wound up about showing her a good time, just like I was for Cousin Zena who visited me two years ago.
Mike saw that Twilight was staring at the restaurant's sign, but from his angle, he could not see her expression. “What are you looking at?” he asked.
“That sign," she explained. "I'm having a hard time reading it. What's with all those loops and swoops obfuscating the letters? I think it says 'Sinful Salads.'”
“Heh, reading that sign gives most people trouble. They went way overboard with the fancy calligraphy. Come on; let’s get inside where it's warm.” Mike waved his arm as if shooing her forward.
In response, Twilight started walking forward between his truck and the minivan parked beside it; Mike following behind her. As he passed the truck’s passenger door, he pushed it shut and began fumbling in his pocket for his keys.
Reaching the walkway in front of the restaurant, Twilight paused and turned around, waiting for Mike who had slowed down.
Mike, having found his keys, triggered the remote door lock. Muted clicks were heard. As was his usual habit, he triggered the lock a second time to engage the truck's security alarm.
Beep! The horn sounded, and the truck’s lights flashed. As soon as it happened Mike knew that he had made a mistake.
“Yeek!” Twilight pronked upwards in startlement. Her legs thrashed vigorously, and her wings were spread out, beating the air.
“Sorry!” Mike called out urgently, afraid that he might have startled Twilight into running off. “I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking, I...” Mike's voice trailed off as he gazed in wonder at the sight before him.
"You're flying?"
Having recovered from her initial start, Twilight continued to hover in the air with slow, lazy flaps of her wings. She glared at him fiercely, her ears folded back. “What the hay was that! Why did you scare me like that?”
She's flying! She's flying! I can't believe it. She's flying!
Mike's mouth dropped open and stayed that way for a moment before he could utter anything. “You're really flying.”
“Yes, I'm flying. Never mind that. Why did you scare me like that?” Twilight demanded as she dropped down to the walkway and folded her wings.
“What? Oh, the alarm. I was locking the truck and activated the security alarm. It beeps the horn and flashes the lights to let me know it’s activated and in working order. I'm sorry Twilight. I lock the truck so often that the action has become second nature to me, an automatic reflex. I never even had time to think about how it might startle you before I went ahead and did it.”
“Well give me a warning the next time you do that," Twilight replied acerbically. "You got that?”
Lowering her voice and softening her expression, she added, “I nearly flew off into the dark due to that sudden fright.”
“Of course, I'll try to remember,” he assured her. “But Twilight, how are you able to fly? I mean, you've got wings, I can see that. But I thought they were merely ornamental.”
“Ornamental? Well, I suppose I don't use them as often as I should, but I assure you that they are fully functional. Why would you think that I could not fly?”
Why? Well, it should be obvious. He thought, but at that point, his stomach gave a loud grumble. The sound was not loud enough to be obvious outside of his winter coat, but he could feel it.
“You know Twilight; this sounds like a discussion we should be having over dinner. Shall we go inside?”
Twilight's stomach chose that moment to make its presence known. “Heh heh. Yes, let’s do that.”
Acting the gentleman, Mike walked up to the restaurant’s door and held it open for Twilight to pass through.
----------------
The restaurant did not have anything much in the way of a lobby. Just a sign which read, “Please wait to be seated.” Mike stopped in front of it while Twilight stood at his side. Looking about, he saw an L-shaped room which held maybe a dozen booths. The 'lobby' they stood in was at the top of the 'L.'
“Do you have restaurants where you come from?” Mike asked mindlessly. Having slipped into 'kill some time' mode due to the fact he was waiting in line. He and Twilight were the only ones in the line, but it was still a line.
Augh! Did I really say something that stupid?
“Of course we do. Serving and presenting good food is an honorable and valued profession. How could you think otherwise?”
“My apologies. That was a thoughtless question, prompted no doubt by nervousness, and force of habit.”
“Nervousness? Could you explain that?”
“I had a cousin come and visit me from overseas a few years ago. While I was thrilled with her visit, I was constantly all in a dither, trying to show her and her fiancé a good time. Trying to keep them occupied, seeing the sights, finding good places to eat, stuff like that.
“I'm starting to feel the same way with you Twilight. You are perhaps the most extraordinary guest that I, or any human, may have ever hosted.”
Twilight looked up at Mike, a serious expression on her face. “Thank you, Mike, for saving me and for giving me a place to stay. I am and will always be, grateful for that. But you mustn’t concern yourself with entertaining me or showing me a good time. I'm simply a lost pony. I don't have a right to expect anything at all from you.” Her face began to look glum. “I regret my anger, earlier today, and also the way I treated you-”
“We’ll have none of that Twilight. You have already apologized for it, and I have already accepted. Let's not drag it back into the light and have it spoil our dinner.”
At that moment a waitress came up to them. “Hello. Welcome to Sinful Salads. Will you two need a table?”
“Yes, that would be fine,” Mike replied as the waitress picked up two menus and proceeded down the long arm of the L-shaped room. She stopped just two booths down from the entrance.
“Is this table okay?” Asked the waitress.
Mike looked at Twilight, who answered his implicit query by simply hopping into the seat. Mike was fascinated by how she did it. First, Twilight turned her hindquarters around, aiming them at the booth's seat and with a bounce of her rear legs placed her rump up on the seat. Immediately after that she shoved off powerfully with her forelegs and raised herself up into a fully seated position, her tail neatly tucked between her legs. She had performed it so smoothly that it seemed a well-practiced maneuver.
Mike caught hold of his wandering attention after Twilight's interesting distraction and returned it to the waitress. “Yes. I think this table will be fine, thank you.”
“I'll just leave you to look over these menus. I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.” She departed, presumably returning to the kitchen or wherever it was that waitresses go.
Turning back to his dinner companion, Mike was surprised to see Twilight already levitating a menu, her face buried in it.
“Do you need any help with that?” Mike asked.
Twilight lowered the menu which had been obscuring her face. She was smiling, her eyes dancing.
“This menu is interesting! Not only does it name the menu item, but it comes with a short description of the ingredients. And even a color picture for each of the items!”
She flipped a page with her magic; her eyes expanded momentarily. “And it even has stuff other than salads! Like Muffins and Pancakes and ooh– I've never heard of 'Belgian' waffles before, but they look so good in this picture!”
Mike could feel the nervous knot in his stomach letting go.
I'm glad. At least I did something right by choosing to come to this place. Thanks, Jim, Sandy, for showing me this vegetarian restaurant. Mike gave silent tribute to his past friends. Past friends because they had moved to California soon after they had gotten married. That had been well over a year ago.
“Mike? If you’re such a meat eater, how did you know about this restaurant?”
“Turn that menu over Twilight, and look on the back side.”
She did so, and her eyes widened to their fullest. What she saw depicted on the back side of the menu, was a generous outlay of various desserts. There were cakes and pies, Ice creams and puddings and much more.
“This restaurant would never survive if all it offered was just an assortment of vegetarian salads. It has acquired quite a bit of fame among the local populace as serving some of the most delicious desserts. And as you’ve already seen, it also serves a delicious assortment of breakfast type meals.”
“Oooh. These cakes do look really good...” She licked her lips in anticipation.
Mike suppressed a snicker. A bit of a sweet tooth I see.
Twilight attempted to recover her dignity by throwing back a question. “Really? You make it sound as if it's a very popular restaurant. But I see that only two other tables are occupied.”
Mike had to hold in his amusement even as he tried to give serious consideration to her question. He caught a lucky break with the return of the waitress carrying two glasses and a pitcher of water.
“Sorry Miss, I couldn’t help but overhear the last part of your question,” she said as she set down the glasses and began to fill them. “We've been wondering the same thing ourselves. We figure that a lot of people are simply staying home until the storm is completely over.” Twilight appeared quite startled by the waitress’s sudden interjection into their conversation.
Hoping to keep amicable relations with their waitress, Mike spoke, “Yes perhaps that's it. Thanks.”
The waitress flushed, perhaps realizing that she had intruded into a private conversation. She suddenly lifted her order book and asked, “So, are you ready to make your order?”
Mike saw Twilight frantically lift up her menu, pouring over its contents.
“Could you please give us just a few more minutes?” He asked the waitress.
“Sure. No problem.” She replied with a cheery smile.
“Take your time Twilight. There's no pressure.”
“No pressure you say! Everything looks so good, and my stomach is singing arias. Help!”
“Is that what that noise is? How long has it been since you've last eaten anything?” Mike asked, slightly concerned.
“Ah, my best guess is about six hours before I came to your door last night.”
“Well, that's something like twenty-two hours already. And additionally, you've suffered from hypothermia. We have to get some food into you as soon as possible.”
“Well, I'm not arguing with you. But everything looks so strange and so good, I can't decide on what I want.”
“Don't worry about that Twilight. You can order several items if you like. I won't mind.”
Mike could see the waitress approaching.
“Do you think you're ready to order now Twilight?”
“Well, if you're sure you don't mind– then yes, I do know what I want to order.”
“Great!” Said the waitress who had arrived at their table as Twilight was speaking. Turning to Twilight, she asked, “What will you be having?”
“I would like to try the Rainbow Salad first please, followed by some of those Belgian Waffles, and after that a slice of that Black Forest Cake. It looks so good.”
What? How is she going to eat all that? Well, Mike considered, we can try to get a doggy bag.
“Anything to drink Miss?” she asked Twilight.
“I’ll have some tea please.”
“Will that be black tea, green tea, or herbal, Miss?”
“Green, I think.”
“All right.” She noted the details on her pad. “And you sir?” She asked, turning to Mike.
Suddenly Mike realized that he had neglected to determine his own order. He glanced over the menu and quickly picked out an item that he remembered having read. He had a vague memory that it sounded interesting.
“Ah, I think I'll have the Green Mountain Salad. And a slice of pecan pie for desert.”
“Any drink?”
“Some Decaf if you have it.”
“No problem.” She started to turn away.
“Oh, Miss!” Mike called out after the departing waitress. Suddenly remembering something he had forgotten to ask Twilight.
Turning to Twilight, he asked, “Do you like dressing on your salads?”
“Dressing? What's that?” she replied.
“I'll provisionally take that as a 'no.'” Mike replied.
Turning to the waitress, Mike gave her some additional instructions. “Sorry Miss. But for both of our orders, could you please not put any dressing on them. Just bring it on the side?”
“Sure, we can do that. A lot of people ask for their dressing on the side. Is there anything else?” She took out here order pad and added the new details.
“No, nothing else, that was it. Thanks.”
“What was that last thing you mentioned? Dressing? How do you clothe a salad?”
Mike smiled. “In a manner of speaking, you could say that we do indeed clothe our salads. But I digress. A dressing is basically a mixture of vegetable oil and vinegar, with some added herbs and spices. It's poured over the salad, and the salad is then tossed to ensure the mixture coats everything evenly.
“I wasn't sure if you would enjoy that. You may find either the vinegar or the oil to be objectionable. So I asked the waitress to not put any onto the salad, but to bring it on the side. That way you can try adding a little bit by yourself to see if you will like it or not.”
“Thank you, Mike, that was thoughtful. We usually eat our salads plain, though sometimes we like a bit of salt sprinkled over them. I think I will try a little of that dressing when it comes.
“But Mike, oil, and vinegar don't mix. How does the dressing manage it?”
“It doesn’t manage it. But if you shake the bottle vigorously, the oil and vinegar break up into an emulsion and stay that way for a good while.”
“Oh, of course.” She planted a hoof on her face. “I knew that.”
They sat there in silence, temporarily without a topic for discussion. Suddenly Mike remembered the incident just outside the restaurant.
“You can fly Twilight. How is it that you’re able to fly?”
She looked him searchingly in the face. “You asked that before. And I told you, I have wings, and they work. Why did you suppose they would not?”
“Well Twilight, for one thing, they are too small. I suppose if you beat them rapidly, say at the same speed as a hummingbird, they might do the job. But I saw you flapping your wings pretty darn slowly, and still, you kept on hovering. It's just not possible.”
“Why is it not possible?” Twilight asked. “Can you explain your reasoning?” She sounded genuinely curious.
“Well, we humans have learned to fly. We have worked out the laws of aerodynamics and use them rigorously when we design our aircraft, our flying machines. The lift generated by a wing is proportional to the area of the wing and also proportional to the square of the speed that wing is moving through the air. According to those laws, either you should be flapping much more vigorously, or you should be displaying a total wingspan of 20 meters or more.”
“I see.” She replied calmly. “And did your calculations account for my magic?”
“Magic?” Mike replied dumbly.
“Yes, magic. I see now where you are coming from. And yes, it's true; there have been cases where Pegasi have lost their magic. And in such condition, they are no longer able to fly, no matter how hard they flap their wings. But when their magic returns to them, they are able to fly again.
“I knew of course that you humans don't have any magic of your own. I just wasn't thinking about its implications. You said you have machines that fly? Do they actually fly with wings? Or are they just balloons.”
Gah. Magic. Of course magic. Everything she does is magic. She oozes magic from her pores. Okay, the next time she surprises me, just think 'magic.'
“We have balloons as well,” Mike replied. "But they are mostly used by hobbyists, who prefer a lazy afternoon in the sky, just drifting with the wind. No, most of our flying is done with various aircraft.”
“What are they like? Are they like the birds? Do they flap their wings?”
“Ah, no. The technical name for something like that would be an 'ornithopter.' They never were successful, mainly because the mechanism for flapping the wings was enormously complex. That complexity resulted in a considerable weight penalty.
“We have two types of aircraft, fixed wing, and rotary wing.”
“This sounds interesting. Please tell me more.”
“I have books at home which go into more detail. I'll show them to you. But for now, I'll explain it briefly. Remember how I told you that the lift generated by a wing is proportional to its area and the speed it moves through the air?”
“Actually, you said it was proportional to the square of the speed through the air.”
“Yes, I did. But I'm just talking in very general terms here. Well, there are engineering limits to how large one can make the wing. Not to mention weight constraints and other factors such as the impracticality of having an overly large wing. So that only leaves us with the option controlling the speed at which the wing travels through the air.
“In a fixed-wing aircraft, the wing is permanently attached to the aircraft in its flight ready position. The engine provides the motive force to propel the aircraft forwards. When the whole vehicle is moving fast enough, the wings have sufficient lift to raise the aircraft up into the air. If for any reason, usually pilot mismanagement, the aircraft slows down below that critical speed, the wings will stall, lose their lift, and the aircraft falls.”
“So a fixed-wing aircraft could be likened to myself extending my wings out and holding them there. That sounds a lot like gliding.”
“Gliding is a perfect example. You are converting the potential energy from your altitude for the kinetic energy required to maintain your forward velocity. And according to our theory, if you let your forward velocity drop too much...”
“I would suddenly tumble out of the sky unless I used my magic to lift myself up. Yes, I see.” She said.
Mike dove into the subject again. “Now rotary wing aircraft are strange beasts. They have the same issues that fixed-wing aircraft do, the need to move the wing through the air fast enough to generate lift. But they accomplish it differently. They put the entire wing on a shaft and rotate the whole assembly. The aircraft is motionless, but the wing, positioned above it, is spinning rapidly.”
“Oh, we have those. I think my friend Pinkie Pie built something like that.”
“You’re asking me about aircraft, but your friend already has one? Why didn't you ask him or her about it?”
“Her, Pinkie's a mare. Trust me, Mike. You can't learn anything from Pinkie. She may be my good friend, but she defies all physics, and all magic, all the time.” Twilight dropped her face into both hooves. Her voice came out muffled “I gave up trying to understand anything she does.”
“Okay. If you say so.” He took a sip of his water.
Their conversation was interrupted as the waitress brought them their salads.
“One Rainbow Salad...” she placed a large bowl of salad, having the most colorful accents imaginable, down in front of Twilight.
“And one Green Mountain...” Mike received an equally huge bowl of – greenness. It appeared to be mostly kale, but with slices of jalapeño and green peppers thrown in. It was topped with some sort of crumbled white cheese, probably Feta, giving the semblance of snow on top of a mountain. Finally, several Falafel balls occupied the periphery of the bowl. For a vegetarian dish, it looked appetizing.
Or maybe, Mike thought, I'm just too hungry to complain.
“I'll be back shortly with your drinks.” the waitress announced before departing.
Mike looked at Twilight who was already hard at work on her salad. He was mildly surprised that she was using her fork.
I had hoped to say grace. But oh well, I think I'll just say it quietly for the both of us... Dear Lord, I thank you for the blessing of this company, my new friend Twilight. And thank you for the food-
“Is something wrong with your salad? Don't you like it?” she asked, interrupting his internal dialog. Mikes head had dipped during his brief prayer. Looking up, he could see Twilight observing him. She had an expression of concern on her face.
“Everything's fine. I was just saying grace. Giving thanks to my God for the bounty of this meal, and for the company I have to share it with.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “You're thanking her for having my company?”
“Him, Twilight. Our culture comprehends God in a patriarchal role without implying any sexual context. But yes; I do thank Him for sending you into my life.”
“Are you saying that your God is responsible for my being here?” Twilight's voice was somewhat louder than normal and had a bit of urgency in its tone.
Her question made him pause. She seems upset about something.
“Of course not. Didn't you come here to my universe of your own volition?”
Mike was shocked to see tears had suddenly appeared in her eyes. Twilight took a deep breath, “No. I did not choose to end up in this universe.”
What? Now, this is a surprise.
Mike waited for her to continue. When she kept silent, he prompted her to continue, “Can you tell me what happened?”
“My being here is just an accident. Something that could not have gone wrong went terribly, horribly, wrong. And now I'm lost, cut off from everything, everypony I know...”
She was breathing deep breaths now, trying to keep her composure.
“Mike. No pony even knows what has happened to me. I was all alone when the accident happened. And as far as I know, there is no way out. I can never go back home.” With that last statement, she lost control and broke down in silent sobs, burying her face in her hooves.
This is terrible. She's cut off from everything she knows, lost in a strange universe. I had no idea she was holding in such a terrible burden. I don't know what I can do, or even what to say...
Not knowing why he did it, Mike got out of his side of the booth and slid in beside Twilight. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. She resisted briefly but then gave in. Turning towards him she buried her face in his torso, near his shoulder, crying mute tears. Mike could feel his shirt getting wet in the vicinity of his armpit.
All he could do was to hold Twilight tightly, rubbing her shoulder gently.
The waitress approached. Catching sight of her, Mike shook his head and held a finger up to his mouth in a silent shush. The waitress nodded and left quietly. A few minutes later she approached the table, holding out a box of tissues. Mike accepted them, smiling at her to show his appreciation.
“Hey, Twilight. How are you doing? Are you feeling any better?”
“No.” She replied in a tiny voice.
“Well, that's okay. Take whatever time you need. But I have something to tell you.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Remember that I told you that I'm glad that you were sent into my life?”
“...” she made a tiny non-vocal sound. Mike took it as assent.
“Well, I did not mean to imply that God is responsible for your current problem, absolutely not. What I meant was that I'm glad that He chose me, of all people, to help you in your time of need.
“And something else. On a more personal level, the reason I'm so glad that I was chosen is that I have never met a more wonderful pony than you.”
She remained silent for a moment, before replying with a tiny bubble of laughter. “Hah. I'm the only pony you've ever met.”
She raised her head from his shoulder and sniffed, before looking him in the face and giving him a little smile. “I'm glad I met you too Mike. You've been very kind.”
Mike plucked several tissues from the box the waitress had so kindly provided.
“Here you go. You might want to blow your nose.”
Twilight levitated the tissues out of his hand with a murmur of thanks. She blew her nose somewhat indelicately.
Woah! I don't want to see that. Fortunately, he did not have to, as Twilight somehow disposed of the soggy mass of tissues with a flash of light.
“Hey.” Mike spoke, “Don't you worry about your little problem. Because that's all it is, a little problem. So don't lose hope. If the two of us work together, I believe we can find a way for you to get home.”
“Really? How can you make a promise like that?”
“The truth is, I can't. But that doesn't stop me from firmly believing that we can do it. And I hope you will believe it too.”
“We can start working on it tomorrow. But for now, let's just finish dinner and have a pleasant evening as friends. Okay?”
“I think I would like that.” She smiled.
----------------
Twilight took a short tour of the washroom to clean up. After she had returned, they resumed their meal, pretending that the incident had never occurred. The pretense was in vain, however, as for the most part, they ate in silence.
Despite the awkward silence, Mike found that he was enjoying his salad. He found himself looking on in curiosity as Twilight levitated her dressing and cautiously dribbled a few drops onto at her colorful salad.
“Are you enjoying your salad?” he asked Twilight.
“Oh yes. It's really good. All the different vegetables, the carrots, the beets, the zucchini, the cucumbers, the radishes and the lettuce, they all come together in interesting ways to create random taste combinations. And the presentation was very appetizing as well.”
Yuck! I might have tried that salad, if not for the beets. Mike kept his thoughts to himself. Watching as Twilight tasted a forkful of the salad that had some dressing.
“But,” Twilight continued. “I don't think I like this dressing stuff. It's not bad tasting mind you, but I could do without the oily texture it adds to the vegetables.”
She looked closely at Mike's salad. “What are those brown things?” She asked. Curiosity was very evident upon her face.
“These are called Falafel balls. Here try one.” Mike rotated his bowl to bring an untouched falafel closer to Twilight.
She hesitated, but eventually, her trust in Mike won out over her suspicions. A rose glow surrounded the falafel as it was levitated directly into Twilight's mouth.
That's kind of freaky. Like eating with your fingers, only it’s totally sanitary. Mike was slightly jealous of her ability to handle food in that manner, without spoons, forks, chopsticks or even fingers.
“Hmm, not bad.” She chewed slowly, evaluating its taste. “In fact, it's quite good. It's deep fried but not greasy, slightly spicy, but I can't quite identify the main ingredient.”
“Chickpeas.” Mike offered helpfully.
“Really? Well, I never much liked Chickpeas, so maybe that's why the taste is unfamiliar. But these? I think I could grow to like them. Thanks for letting me try one.”
They resumed eating their respective salads in silence. Soon they had finished their salads.
The waitress came to whisk away their dirty dishes. Soon returning with a platter of Belgian Waffles, which she placed in front of Twilight. A dish of butter patties and a small decanter of syrup accompanied the platter.
Twilight's eyes grew huge as she looked at her plate. It certainly was impressive; two Belgian waffles, over ten centimeters across, and fully three centimeters thick, with deep and inviting indentations, sprinkled with confectioner's sugar; slices of strawberries freely strewn about the plate.
“Are you sure you can eat those?” Mike asked, “You just had a substantial salad.”
“Normally I wouldn't be able to, but after last night and today, I'm still hungry,” she replied starting in on the waffles. “Is this syrup?” she asked, pointing a hoof at the syrup decanter.
At Mike's nod, she levitated the decanter and poured a small amount of the syrup onto her waffles. She cautiously brought a forkful to her mouth.
Mike would always treasure Twilight's expression as she tasted Maple Syrup for the first time. Her eyes flew open, and the pupils and even the irises of her eyes expanded to their fullest. He swore he could see stars twinkling in their depths. Then her eyes closed and she let out a high pitched “Mmmmmmmm...” of ecstasy. Her forehooves beat a rapid little tattoo upon the table.
“What is this?! I've never tasted anything like it,” she exclaimed excitedly even as she levitated the decanter to pour more, a lot more, syrup onto her waffles.
“So, I gather you like our Maple Syrup?” he asked with a grin. The waffles started disappearing at a rapid rate.
“Are you kidding? I've often been invited by Princess Celestia, my teacher, to share a meal with her. And surely something this good would have found its way onto her table. The taste is indescribable. You called it May-pul Syrup?”
“That's right. It's nothing more than the concentrated sap from a Maple tree.”
“A Maple tree? Well, I find that a bit odd. According to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, tree sap tastes terrible.”
“The Cutie Mark Crusaders?”
“Three little fillies I know who are always getting into trouble, and surprisingly often, they wind up all covered in tree sap.”
“Hah! I'd love to meet them. They sound like quite the troublemakers. That syrup, however, comes from a special kind of Maple tree called the Sugar Maple”
“Oh, that makes more sense. Perhaps we don't have any Sugar Maple trees in Equestria. If I ever do find a way to go back, maybe I can take some seeds with me.”
“Well, that's only part of the story. The sap can only be harvested at a certain time of year, around the time of early spring. At other times the sap will be bitter and unpalatable. But once you have collected the sap, all you need to do is to boil it down until it thickens.”
“So the sap needs to be collected in spring, right after Winter Wrap Up.” She repeated eagerly.
“What's a Winter Wrap Up?” Mike asked. Totally clueless as to what she was talking about.
“Winter Wrap Up is the day you clean up winter. You know, remove the snow, make the trees green with foliage, recall the birds, wake up the hibernating animals and warm up the air.”
Mike was so astonished he nearly did a spit take. Easy Mike. Different universe, remember?
“And you do all this in a single day?” he asked.
“Well, it used to take longer, but some recent organizational improvements-” for some unaccountable reason, Twilight looked a little embarrassed, “-have reduced that to a single day. Yes, we now do Winter Wrap Up in a single day."
“And what is the season that you call spring?”
“Spring is simply the week after Winter Wrap Up. The temperatures are nearly the same as summer. Only the remaining chill and dampness in the ground keeps the temperatures a bit low for a few days.”
Mike shook his head sadly. “That's absolutely nothing like spring here on Earth. It's no wonder you don't have Maple Syrup. The ideal weather needed for the sap to run occurs when the daytime temperatures rise a little above freezing, and the nighttime temperatures drop below freezing.
"To get a good Maple Syrup harvest, you need a few weeks of these daily temperature cycles. As soon as the tree begins to put out its buds and starts growing foliage, the sap's flavor is ruined, and collection must end.”
“You mean, because we go from winter to spring and cause the trees to foliate, all in a single day, our chances of getting maple syrup-”
“-are exactly zero.” Mike finished her sentence.
Twilight seemed to deflate. It seemed the loss of such a food delicacy was a massive blow.
She recovered in record time, however. “Tell me about your Spring, Mike. I gather that it's very different from ours. What's it like without any Winter Wrap Up.”
Mike leaned back in his chair, blowing out a slow breath between pursed lips. He was thinking hard about how he would describe a season to someone who had never experienced it. He began his narrative.
“As winter draws to a close, the days grow longer, before long the days are getting warmer as well. Every day, a little more of the snow melts away, until eventually, in a few weeks it is all gone. When the snow disappears, the ground begins to thaw, and the trees start pushing nutrients up from their roots to their branches. On those branches, the tiny buds, which have waited patiently through the winter, begin to grow and burst out into tiny leaves. Day by day you can see the trees getting progressively greener, their leaves growing slowly.
The migratory birds start to return and begin looking for territory and nesting sites. Birdsong returns to the air. At first, the sound of a bird is rare and exceptional. A few weeks later, it's everywhere.
The greening of the earth, the trees, the birdsongs, it all puts a certain freshness into the air. One senses an excitement for simply being alive. There is a kind of vitality, a bursting forth of life that feels simply magical.”
“Oh don't get me wrong. The days are chilly, and the nights can still be freezing. It frequently rains, turning the skies gray, and the half-frozen ground becomes a muddy quagmire.
"But after the rain and the gray skies, come beautiful blue skies, and flowers that push their way up from the muddy soil. It all feels so wonderful. An experience in your heart. This powerful force of nature. Spring. Redeeming the world from the death of winter, bringing it back to life.”
Twilight had a faintly troubled look on her face. “You're saying that the trees and the fields will green themselves?”
“Yes. As the days grow longer and the temperatures become milder.”
“And the birds come back all on their own?”
“Yes. Sometimes they arrive early and might have a miserable week or two, but they manage well enough.”
“And the animals?”
“They will come out of hibernation all on their own, usually before the last of the snow is gone.”
“That is so unlike Equestria Mike. Everything has to be managed. We manage the weather and the seasons. We need to manage the leaves on the trees, when to grow and when to fall. We need to show the birds where to go and we need to wake the hibernating animals.”
Yeesh. Talk about your ecological disaster. Does anything in her world work without intervention?
“Well, Twilight that must be quite the operation. But I think I prefer my Spring. Despite its messiness, experiencing it is like medicine for the soul.”
The waitress, who must have been watching their table, came by to remove Twilight's dirty plate. By this time the pony had finished her waffles and was eyeing the small residue of syrup longingly.
“Would you like your desserts now?” the waitress asked.
“Are you sure you can handle a piece of cake after all that Twilight?” Mike asked the pony.
“Whew! Maybe I'd better not. I am feeling pretty full.”
Mike turned to the waitress. “Is it possible to box up our desserts so we can take them home with us?”
“Sure. No problem. People come here all the time just to buy our cakes and take them home. Is one box for both of them okay?”
“Yes, that should be fine. Please bring our bill. I'll be paying by credit card.”
Their table descended into silence again.
Soon the waitress returned to their table with a white box and with their bill. After considering her tact and helpfulness during Twilight's emotional episode, Mike wrote in a generous tip for the waitress and presented her with his credit card.
She brought out a wireless card scanner and inserted his card into the slot, punching several keys before handing the scanner over to Mike. After entering his PIN code, a receipt spewed out. The waitress took back the scanner and handed the receipt and credit card back to Mike. “Thank you. Have a good evening and drive carefully.”
Twilight had stared at the whole procedure, following their movements, her eyes wide. Mike could see that she was holding back her curiosity.
“Shall we get going?” He said as he stood up.
Mike started to reach out a hand to Twilight, to help her get up, but then stopped himself.
She doesn't need my help to get up out of her seat. Rather, she needs to get down on the floor.
“Don't forget your 'coat.'” Mike reminded her.
“Oh, right. I mustn't forget that” she replied, levitating the data stick's strap around her neck.
----------------
“How did you pay for the meal?” Twilight asked as they rode back home.
I knew she was going to ask about that. Mike smirked to himself.
“I didn’t see you give her any bits. Do you have a tab with that restaurant?”
“No, I don't have a tab there. Bits? Is that some kind of money?”
“Yes, we use Bits, coins, to buy goods and services. But I didn't see you give her anything.”
“I used my credit card. Ah– that's kind of like a tab. Only it’s a general tab, maintained by a third party, a financial institution. The card I presented uniquely identifies my tab, so it does not get mixed up with anyone else's. Likewise, the restaurant has an account with that same financial institution.
“Periodically, that institution will transfer to the restaurant, all the monies that have been accrued to them from all their customers. And they will send me my personal bill for all of my accrued charges for all the various purchases I have made.”
“So, instead of carrying a bag of coins, you carry that little card.”
“Correct.”
“And instead of keeping a separate tab at every place you shop. You only keep a single tab?”
“Correct.”
“That makes a lot of sense. But I'm still puzzled by some things. How does that third party find out about the charges? And what happens if your card gets mixed up with someone else's? How do you keep them from using your tab? They might buy something really expensive.”
“Well, it used to be more troublesome. Originally, the restaurant would have to provide these little forms, which identified the restaurant and their account. They would take an impression of my card, transferring its account information onto the form, and I would have to sign it, to verify that I consented to the transaction. These forms were then mailed to a central office for processing.
“But nowadays, the process is instantaneous. The account information from the restaurant and my card are both sent electronically to the third party. I verify my consent by entering a secret number that only I possess. That's what I was doing when she handed me that device.”
“But what about when the cards get mixed up? And what did you mean when you said 'electronically'?”
“Theft is, of course, a big problem. Cards get stolen all the time. What the third party institution does is charge the restaurant a percentage of the monies they collect, using it to pay for insurance which covers any financial losses due to theft and misuse of the cards. The restaurant, in turn, raises its prices to cover the cost of that insurance.”
“Personally, if I notice my card is missing, I simply report that event and I am not held responsible for any charges a thief makes subsequent to my report. If the thief does make purchases before I report my card missing, I still have the option of attempting to prove those charges were fraudulent.”
“This is quite a bit to consider. It seems convenient, but that third party seems to complicate matters quite a bit. What about that 'electronically' thing you mentioned.”
“Do you have electricity?”
“Yes.”
“Electric lights?”
“Yes we have them, but most of our lighting needs are still accomplished magically.”
“Well, there you have it. If you flip the switch or make or break the contact, or whatever you use, you have just sent information down the wire to the light, telling the light to be either ‘on’ or ‘off.’ Expanding upon that basic concept can allow you to send virtually unlimited amounts of information.”
Mike glanced over at Twilight. She was frowning heavily.
“It's a massive subject Twilight. Spawning many specialized disciplines, all of them dealing with electricity in one form or another. Perhaps a simple demonstration is in order.” Mike reached out and turned on the radio.
...tonight, lows are expected to be minus ten degrees. Winds are expected to gust at up to 20 kilometers per hour...
The radio faded into the background as Mike turned down the volume, only a faint murmur remained to be heard. Twilight was staring with fierce intensity at the console Mike had used to turn on the radio.
She turned her head towards Mike, “What? Who?” She was at a loss for words.
“That was the radio. We've had that technology for nearly 100 years now. The physics behind it is simple. If you move an electric charge, you create an electromagnetic wave in space. Those waves propagate outwards at the speed of light. And those electromagnetic waves can, in turn, induce tiny movements in any electric charge which they encounter.
“Physically, you simply apply an electric potential, in other words, a voltage, to a conductor such as a wire, and the electric charges will move. Conversely, the electromagnetic waves will induce a voltage in any conductor which they encounter.”
Twilight gave Mike a look of astonishment.
“Somewhere out there, sitting in a booth is someone speaking into a microphone. Some specialized electronic circuits take the signal captured by his microphone and create an oscillating electric field in the broadcast antenna. In other words, an electric charge is wiggled back and forth. The strength of the oscillation varies according to the voice signal. At my end, electronic circuitry senses those tiny electric currents that are induced in my radio's antenna and amplifies them. After suitable amplification and processing, the received signal was presented to us. We heard the sound of that someone talking.”
Twilight considered Mikes words. “That sounds so simple. But like all of your machinery, it's probably very involved and complicated.”
“In some ways you are right. But the complexity of useful electronics can range from ridiculously simple up to truly mind boggling.
“Take for example this radio. A child could make a very crude radio with nothing more than a penny, some bits of wood and suitable lengths of wire. All he would need to purchase would be a cheap earphone or headphone, to be able to hear the sound.”
“Headphones I know, but what's a 'penny'? I think I’ve only heard that word used in reference to an obscure coin.”
“That’s right. A copper coin, our smallest unit of fractional currency. Oh, and the coin must be tarnished, that’s important. The copper oxide crystals are the active component of the radio.”
“Really? That's something I have to see for myself. If it really is that simple, it would be something amazing to bring back home...” As she began her sentence, Twilight sounded enthused, but she ended it with a sad voice that trailed off.
“Okay, Twilight, I'll try to find you something on that. Though you might want to learn something more a bit more advanced. Without a transmitter, a receiver would be useless.”
“Thanks, Mike, but that really doesn't matter. What matters are the new principals of science that it demonstrates, and that we Equestrians might learn to make use of.” Now her voice sounded stressed, as if she was forcing herself to sound positive.
She's really hurting. Mike thought. I need to find some way to take her mind off of her problems. Right now talking seems to be no good. Every discussion we have seems to lead her back to thoughts of home.
They rode in silence for the rest of the journey home, while Mike considered how he might be able to cheer Twilight up.
----------------
The drive home was uneventful. Eventually, Mike turned the truck, into his driveway. He drove his truck straight into his garage. As they exited the darkened structure, Mike was forced to close the garage door manually.
When they entered the house, Twilight finally spoke. “My hooves are dirty Mike, with some of that gritty stuff you have spread on the walkway. Do you have something I can clean them with?”
Mike had never before considered the matter of having dirty hooves track dirt into his house. “Um, I think so. Give me a second.”
Mike took a tea towel out of a drawer, went to the sink and dampened it under the kitchen faucet. He brought it to Twilight. With a murmur of “Thanks.” she wiped down her hooves. While she was occupied with that chore, Mike filled the kettle and started heating some water.
They waited in silence, neither one venturing anything for discussion.
When the water was ready, Mike took out two more mugs and set about preparing tea for the two of them.
I'm running low on mugs. He thought to himself. I'll need to run the dishwasher tonight.
“Here Twilight,” Mike called for Twilight's attention, “I've made you a cup of tea. Let's take these into the Living Room. I have something special planned for tonight.”
Twilight levitated her mug and saucer. “What's that?” she asked in a dull monotone.
“Oh, just a little something that I am hoping will cheer you up. Maybe get your mind away from those depressing thought's you've been brooding about.”
“You don't have to do anything for me, Mike. I'm fine. I'm not brooding.” She protested, attempting to deny the evidence of her recent behavior.
“Well then, if you’re feeling fine, you will surely enjoy this even more. Come on, this way.”
Entering the Living Room, Mike put his tea down on the table beside his recliner. He gestured for Twilight to take the couch. “I believe you're already familiar with my couch; please make yourself comfortable. Oh and remember your tea. Don't let it get too strong.”
Mike walked over to his movie library and selected a particular DVD. Picking up his remote he turned on the High Definition Television, setting it for input from his Blu-Ray player. After a minute he was able to get the disk tray to open. He dropped in the selected movie.
Returning to his recliner, he sat down, picked up his cup and pulled the tea bag out of it.
“What's this about? What's happening?” Twilight asked.
“Well, Twilight. We are about to watch a movie.”
“A movie? What kind of movie? And don't you have to go to the cinema to watch a movie?”
“Ah, the miracle of modern electronics. Nowadays everyone can watch a movie in the comfort of their own home. If you will observe, that big flat thing over there,” Mike pointed at his TV, “is called a Television or TV for short. This particular movie is a favorite of mine. It's a romantic comedy which also happens to be an extreme parody of humans and the human condition.”
“We’re watching a romantic comedy? Seriously?”
“Give it a chance. It's really funny. Just remember that this is a work of fiction from beginning to end. The events and persons and even the technology portrayed are all fictitious.”
“Well, all right. I'm willing to watch.” Twilight’s voice dropped to nearly inaudible mutterings as she continued. “Romance? The very last thing on my mind is romance.”
At that moment the TV screen lit up – capturing Twilight's attention.
“Just ignore all the folderol at the beginning. Every corporation that sells movies seems to think that we viewers represent a captive audience and they can forcibly subject us to advertising.”
“Sadly I'm familiar with the principle, if not this particular practice,” Twilight commented.
I wonder where she encounters advertising, Mike wondered. Maybe at her movie theaters.
Two minutes later... “Well we certainly don't have it this bad in Equestria, when will it end?”
“Patience, Twilight. As annoying as all the advertising is, the movie is well worth the wait.”
Just then the main menu came up. Mike started the movie. “Here we go, it's starting now. Uh, sorry, that’s just the corporate self-identification.” Strains of 'When you wish upon a star' were playing.
And then a desk lamp started bouncing in front huge block letters which spelled out the word 'PIXAR'.
Mike was starting to feel embarrassed. “This is much worse than I remembered,” he muttered to himself while a rubber ball was being victimized.
“Sorry Twilight, that’s the self-identification for the animation house which produced the movie.”
“Animation house?” she asked.
“Animation is the name given to a movie produced from drawn images. Rather than a photographic presentation of real world objects, what you will see here, will be images created by many artists.”
And then the movie proper started. They were presented with beautiful scenes of space, stellar nebulas, a view of the Earth, and an incredibly cheesy song playing in the background.
Ugh. Talk about bad first impressions. Hang in there Twilight; it gets better.
They watched in silence as an aerial view of a desolate landscape revealed a tiny object moving rapidly through a canyon, leaving dust trails behind. Suddenly the camera came in for a close-up, revealing a dirty, rusty 'box' of a machine.
“You said these images would be drawings,” Twilight commented.
“They are. The drawing is so detailed that every speck of dust or flake of rust has been accounted for and lovingly drawn. And before you ask, no, humans are not capable of drawing to that level of detail. This is another miracle of modern electronics. We have created machines which assist us in the drawing of these images.”
After a minute of following the dull boring antics of the box, the camera zooms back and the movie's title appears.
“‘Wall-' 'E' Twilight announces. “I don't understand. This movie is about a machine?" She asked dubiously. "I mean it looks like a fascinating machine, but in the end, all it does is turn trash into cubes.”
“Just keep watching Twilight. Part of the premise of this movie is that Wally has been left alone for a very, very long time. And he has developed a few idiosyncrasies.”
“He?”
“Yes, Wally is a parody of a male.” They continued watching.
...
“Oh. He's so lonely, the poor thing!” Twilight exclaimed.
Mike could only smile. It appeared she was getting into the movie.
“Hah Hah Hah. Boy does he have a hard time getting up in the morning.” A few seconds later, “Wait what was that?” Twilight asked in confusion.
“Solar cells Twilight. Like the leaves of a plant, they can absorb energy from sunlight, though the solar cells seen in the movie are impossible. Sunlight simply does not have that much energy in it. What they show as taking seconds would, in reality, take a week or two.”
...
“What is all that for? It makes no sense.”
“Just the animators having fun with us. They invent a vast, needlessly complex machine, which does nothing more than deliver... an egg.”
...
“Eeek! What was that? Why did it do that.” The egg had just blasted away the rock Wally was hiding behind.
“Well, I suppose if you are given an autonomous mission in a hostile environment. The application of a little force could be considered useful.”
“A little? What that egg did was ridiculous.”
“I know.” Mike chuckled. “Don't you find that to be funny?”
“I'll let you know when I do.” she replied tartly.
...
When Eve reacted to the plant and became inactive, Wally's pleading cries were full of pathos. “Nooo!” Twilight cried out. She was now fully involved with the characters.
...
She gasped in wonder at the sights as the rocket passed by the Moon, the flaming surface of the sun, the cool ice of Saturn's rings. “Oh if only we could see such astronomical sights up close like that. But it was just some animator's fantasy wasn't it?” she asked sadly.
Mike paused the movie. “Actually, the answer is both yes and no. The actual images presented, are rather accurate, though the presentation was very self-serving to the movie. No spaceship could possibly approach that closely to the sun, though the images showing that body are pretty accurate. As for the rings of Saturn, those rings are indeed composed of uncountable particles and fragments of ice. But we have no idea how they might appear to an observer who was up close and intimate with them. So the idea of having Wally brush his arm through the crystals like that was merely a fantasy.”
“You're saying that what I saw could be something real?”
“Or very close to the reality. I promise Twilight, on this subject, you won't be disappointed.”
“Eeee!” she squeed happily.
“Can we resume the movie?”
“Oh yes. By all means, please continue. I want to see what happens with Eve.”
...
“Hah Hah Hah. He's such a tease!” she was laughing in response to Wally's interaction with Mo.
...
Gasp! Was Twilight's reaction to the enormously FAT humans.
At that point, Mike felt he had to say something, to defend his species. “Remember Twilight. This is a parody. The writers are trying to convey the sense of a society which has no responsibilities. All they do is consume with abandon, and create mountains of waste.”
...
'... day 255,642 ...’ announced the Captain. “Seven hundred and ten years,” announced Twilight.
Wow she is incredibly fast with her calculations. Mike thought.
'... 700 year anniversary ...’ announced the Captain.
“What?” exclaimed Twilight. “That's clearly wrong-”
“Ah, Twilight?” Mike interrupted her denunciation of the Captain. “How many days are you assuming are in a year?”
“Three hundred and sixty. You mean it's not?”
“I suppose that in a universe where your sun circles your world, you can choose any arbitrary number of days for the length of your year. Here in this universe, where the Earth revolves around the Sun and sets the length of its day by its own rotation, a year is something like three hundred and sixty-five, and a fraction, days. The exact definition of a year is the time taken to accomplish one complete revolution around the sun.”
“A fraction of a day?” Twilight's left eye was twitching. As if she found the irregularity to be a personal affront.
“Sorry about that Twilight. The earth is as the earth does. You can't imagine how it complicates our calendars.”
“No don't tell me. I'll just stick with my Equestrian calendars. Nice and simple.”
...
“Wally!” She screamed as the plant evaluator mechanism completely crushed the stricken robot.
...
“Oh nooo!” She let out a wail when it became apparent that Wally was gone. Only a soulless machine remained.
She watched, sniffling back her tears, as Eve paid her final farewell, holding Wally's manipulators as he had so often desired to do with her in his 'life.'”
"YES!" She screamed. As Wally's optics began once again to dance their silly little dance.
'...Eva?...' a bewildered Wally spoke on screen.
“Yes-yes-yes... Yeeees!” Twilight was off the couch, pronking for joy all about the Living Room floor.
“Whoa whoa who-a! Calm down Twilight.” Mike urged, afraid that something valuable would get knocked off the shelves. Light as she was, the whole room was shaking with her every bounce.
“What?” Twilight stopped pronking. Suddenly, she seemed to notice that the movie was playing a song and rolling credits. “Is it over already?”
“I'm afraid so Twilight. So, I gather that you liked it?”
“Yes, Mike. I really enjoyed that movie. At first, the ending made me sad, and then, I was so incredibly happy again. It was a thrilling experience.”
Twilight grew silent, though Mike did not have the impression that it was related to her previous melancholy. He hoped that she was only thinking about the movie she had just seen.
After a moment she revealed her thoughts. “I know you said that this movie was work of fiction, but are there any real machines like that Wally character?”
Mike was happy that her mood was improved. “I'm afraid not,” he replied, “even after decades of effort. We have not been able to create any machine that is even sapient much less one that is sentient as well. No, we're not even close. Still, we keep trying.”
Twilight had obviously been saving up her questions. She brought out her next one.
“What was that mysterious glowing red spot, that Wally found?”
“That was simply a glowing spot, produced by a beam of light.”
“Oh.” She appeared to deflate; the simple explanation was obviously disappointing.
“But– there was something very special about that light beam.” Twilight seemed to inflate again.
“It was produced by a device called a Laser. One of the more significant scientific discoveries made during this last half century. Hold on a minute; I think I have one that I can show you.” Mike got out of his recliner and went downstairs into his office.
After searching through his box of knick-knacks he found his laser pointer. It was something he did not need but had once purchased on impulse to satisfy his inner child. A quick test revealed that it was still in working order.
Mike ran back up the stairs.
“Found it,” he stated, holding it up for Twilight's view. All in all, it was not very impressive looking, just a small cylinder somewhat smaller than a pen. “Now observe that wall behind you as I turn on the laser...”
“That really does look quite similar to the red dot I saw in the movie. But what's so special about this 'lazer', is that the name for this special hue of red?”
“Well Twilight, a laser is special because of the properties of the light it produces. You see, the laser produces a coherent beam of light. All of the rays of light within that beam have the exact same wavelength, and they are all perfectly in phase with each other.”
Twilight looked at him in astonishment. “But if all the rays have the exact same wavelength-”
“The light is monochromatic. A single perfectly pure color not mixed with any other color.” Mike finished her thought.
“I see,” she said, absorbing the significance of what he had told her. “That is a most unusual property for a light source. It might have some scientific uses. But what did you mean when you said the light waves are perfectly in phase with each other?” she asked.
“Well, for one thing, all the rays of light are moving in parallel with each other and will spread minimally as the beam of light propagates outwards. Research grade Lasers have been aimed towards the moon, something like four hundred thousand kilometers distant, and the beam will have only spread out to about four kilometers in diameter.”
“That’s one part in one hundred thousand. A very impressive achievement but how does that fact make this 'lazer' thing significant?” She asked.
“According to the physical principals by which the laser operates, the light rays are in fact perfectly parallel to each other. There should be no spread at all, but manufacturing imperfections do result in the beam spreading out.”
“A perfectly parallel beam of light? Such a beam could go on forever!”
“To infinity and beyond!” Mike announced with a large grin. Heh! Never thought that phrase would ever come out of my mouth. Thanks, Disney!
“I just said that.” Twilight gave him an annoyed look.
“So, in the movie, those red dots were 'lazer' lights shining down from some high altitude.” Twilight had made the connection back to the movie.
“Exactly. Now there's one last thing, another property of a beam of light that has all of its waves perfectly in phase with each other. Take a close look at that spot on the wall Twilight. Do you see anything unusual?”
“Umm, up close it looks funny, kind of sparkly. Come to think of it, the movie also showed an unusual glow to those red dots.”
“That's right. Those sparkles are due to the interference pattern between the light waves reflected back towards your eye. You are familiar with the concept of wave interference patterns?”
“Of course. That's just basic science.”
“When the laser light, whose rays are all perfectly in phase with each other, encounters the tiny irregularities of that wall, the reflected rays of light are no longer in phase. Some reinforce each other, and some cancel each other out. We observe the result as-”
“Sparkles!” Twilight enthused.
Mike bowed to his appreciative audience of one.
“Wow. That really is a very special light. The effects are subtle but highly specific. And you call that thing a 'lazer'?”
“The name is an acronym, spelled 'L', 'A', 'S', 'E', 'R'. It stands for Light Amplification through Stimulated Emission of Radiation.” After his last statement, Mike could see Twilight mouthing the words as if committing them to memory.
She needn't bother. He thought. From what I've seen her memory is already as sharp as a laser. Hah!
“Laser, she repeated. But how is the light produced?” She asked hopefully.
Mike sighed. “Oh no.” He held up his hands. “The answer to that question lies in the domain of Quantum Physics. That's a whole new branch of physics. It’s much too large to get into tonight. Besides I'm tired, and I'm not really very knowledgeable in that subject area.”
Mike had been standing in the location where he had first entered the room. Now Twilight walked up to him and put one of her hooves on his thigh. It was the first time she had ever initiated any contact with him. Mike's eyes widened slightly as she looked beseechingly up at his face.
“Please. Won't you try? Even if you don't know that much about it. This seems to be another area of fundamental physics which we don't have in Equestria. I would dearly like to know something about it.” Her eyes seemed to grow more luminous, as she gazed upwards at him. “Please.”
Mike couldn't resist those incredible eyes, he caved. “Oh alright. But this is the last one for tonight.” He admonished sternly. “It's starting to get late and I'm getting tired.” Twilight grinned up at him.
----------------
This technical discussion has been removed. If you still desire to follow it. Simply read the following chapter 'Interlude: Twilight's lecture notes on Lasers'.
----------------
Twilight's jaw dropped. “That's it? That's the deep dark secret? If a photon strikes an atom in an excited energy state, the atom will give up its excitation energy as an identical photon.”
“Well, you glossed over quite a few details, but that's basically it. That's the core concept of the laser.”
Twilight appeared to be happy. She sat on the sofa, with her eyes closed, a small smile forming on her face.
After observing her for a few moments, Mike was overtaken by a yawn. He glanced at his watch.
Wow, it's going on Eleven O'clock. Didn’t think we'd been talking for that long.
“Well, that's enough for tonight Twilight. It's been a long day. Let's both of us get some sleep.”
At his first words, Twilight opened her eyes. Her ears drooped down halfway; clearly, she was disappointed that Mike's Question and Answer session was over.
Mike grinned, “Shouldn't all good little ponies be in bed by now?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “That's true. Except that I'm not a 'little' pony anymore. Actually, I'm not that tired.”
She's really loosened up around me. I definitely think the movie was a good idea.
“Actually Twilight, I suspect you are, what with your recent illness and physical exhaustion, followed by a day of starvation and several emotional shocks. I think you have already been showing some signs of fatigue.”
I think her recent bouts of depression are clear a clear indication that she is very tired. But I can't remind her of that.
“Come on Twilight. Let me show you to the guest room, where you will be sleeping tonight.”
Without encountering any further complaints or arguments, Mike led Twilight upstairs and showed her the guest bedroom where she would be staying.
It was a small room. It and a second even smaller room were located at the opposite end of the floor from where Mike's room was. The bathroom occupied the central location between Mike's room and the guest room.
Opening the door, revealed a double-sized bed, covered by a purple duvet. A small wardrobe and a simple dresser stood along one wall; a tiny night table and lamp situated at the head of the bed on the opposite wall. The room was rather crowded, but somehow all the furniture still fit into it.
Twilight stepped inside and suddenly cracked a yawn. “Heh, perhaps I am tired after all. I guess this is good night Mike.”
“Good night Twilight.” Mike departed for the bathroom.
As soon as he entered the bathroom, he was assailed by a foul odor. “Wuff!” Mike expelled his breath in reaction to it.
Augh! I used the toilet earlier today. I forgot that I couldn't flush it.
Hurrying over to the toilet Mike pulled the handle to flush its contents. Next, he opened the window to allow fresh air into the room. Suddenly Twilight appeared at the door to the washroom.
“Ewww! What is that smell? No, don't answer that. I think I can guess.” She held a hoof up to her muzzle, her ears were fully laid back.
“Heh Heh. Sorry Twilight, my bad. I used the toilet earlier today, but without power, there was no water to flush it properly. Later after we got some power restored, I forgot all about it. I've got the window open now. Just give it a few minutes to air out.”
“Alright, Mike. But, if you make a regular habit of this, it will be very difficult to live with you.”
“I assure you that it is not my habit to do such things. It was just an oversight.”
“Well anyway, I came to ask you if you had a toothbrush I could use.”
“I sure do.” Mike started rummaging through a drawer under the vanity. “Here you go, a new toothbrush just for you.” Mike handed her a sealed tube containing the toothbrush.
Twilight looked at it curiously, levitating it just in front of her, her magic rolling the container around to be examined from all angles.
“Oh.” Mike exclaimed, “Let me open that for you, they can be diffi-”
Mike's offer of assistance was cut short by a flash of light as Twilight simply teleported the toothbrush out of its container. “I think I can manage.” She tossed him a smile. “Where do you keep your tooth powder?”
“Powder?” Mike asked, somewhat confused.
“You use it to clean your teeth. It’s just a mixture of salt and baking soda. Surely you have some. But if you’re all out, it’s easy to make some more.”
“Right,” Mike replied. “I remember someone once telling me that they used salt to clean their teeth. Can't say I've ever tried that. I've always used toothpaste.” He rummaged through the drawer again and brought forth a small tube of toothpaste.
Twilight levitated it over and looked curiously at it.
Mike picked up his own brush and toothpaste, “Just open the cap, and gently squeeze out a bit of the toothpaste onto your brush. Just don't swallow the toothpaste, it's not toxic, but it might not agree with you.”
“Thanks, Mike. I think that's all I will need.”
Soon they had both made themselves ready for bed; though Mike did have to make a trip downstairs to put away their mugs and start the dishwasher.
After the light had gone out, silence descended upon the house. Despite the caffeine from his earlier cups of coffee, and the excitement of those memorable events he had experienced throughout the day, Mike had no difficulty whatsoever in falling asleep.