//------------------------------//
// II: THIS DOESN'T FEEL LIKE SCIENCE! 
// Story: The Adventures of Capt. Ambrose Mittens, Explorer of the Skies and Seas - Part XIX: The Equestrian Experiment 
// by Mr Anomalous 
//------------------------------//

The spectral glow of the morning (the normal, sane morning) - reveals an army of spires and towers, all topped with grandiose flags and banners.  The structures at first appear to be haphazardly thrown onto the mountin on which they dwell, but when one pays more attention, a level of organization and order unparalleled by any in the Kittish Empire is shown.
The towers are tall, purely-colored, made from solid and shiny stones and materials, and the city's beauty is multiplied tenfold in the sheen of the dawn's sun. 
And not even this can compare the Empress Puss's grand and glorious palace, a dwelling fit for a god.  
Or a goddess . . . . Captain Mitten muses.
His airship, moved along by a mixture of balloons and propellers fueled by solar energy, soars into the throng of towers, manuevering masterfully betwixt the marble and the ivory, never inflicting even the slightest scratch upon anything in the city or the stolid, wooden hull of the vessel.
The sun crawls ever higher in the clear skies, and the Magnificent Malestrom sets down with a surprisingly light thud that echoes in the serene courtyard that is its destination.  A nearby fountain gurgles happily, but that is all.  There are no guards this far into the Palace's domain; no one who isn't wanted there could get there, and so the ramp lowers and the ship's three inhabitants exit without unopposed.
"Ah, the Grand Palace; visiting it never gets old," Ambrose says, a smile lifting his whiskers.  As he and his team move forward to the nearest entrance, one of the biggest of the Koi in the fountain goes missing rather thouroughly down the Captain's gullet--"Only the biggest and tasties fish-flesh for me!"--and they all saunter inside, wondering just what it is that could possibly be awaiting them. . . . 





The room is choked with darkness almost utterly; if it were not for the few candles and glowing scientific and magical instruments, the blackness would be palpable.  But it's not, because there's a few candles and glowing scientific and magical instruments, so let's get a move on.
Twilight fastens her goggles as she bends over her boilbing beakers and torrid test-tubes.  The day is new, and so is science; ever-growing and evlolving, it never stops advancing.
The purpose of this little bit of science-ing, however, is not a happy one.  It's purpose is not for advancment or evolution, not for progress nor for climbing the ladder of civilization; its purpose is a dire one: it is for the saving of the world.
Someone, somewhere, is poking at the weaves of reality, and they are poking really rather hard and carelessley.  If that pony or whatever else is really so desperate to crawl into her world, Twilight reasons, then they must really really want it or something(s) within it.  Naturally, Twilight cannot let this happen.  This is her realm, the realm of the gryphons, the zebras, the ponies, the dragons; not of the outsider's.  But still it persists.  The weaves are beginning to give way, but Twilight is calm as she reads her tomes and pours her chemicals.  She is confident.  But what she doesn't know, is that that "outsider" is none other than the Royal Scientist Sir Felix Meowzer Meowsirs!





The throne room.  The throne room of utmost beauty and grandness, the throne room of massive size and massive worth, built from gold and cobalt, silver and fine oak, the throne room where Empress Puss herself dwells; it is empty.  No pretty Empress Puss.
"You there!" Ambrose barks, startling a young servant-sire, "Where is the Empress?"
"Oh, uh, um, I-I don't-."
"Finish that sentence with 'know' and you will experience no small amount of pain."
"Ah, well, then she's . . . that way," the servant-sire says hastily, thrusting his paw down in a random direction, somewhere East-ward.
"Thank you, dear sire! Now bugger off. Come, assistants, she is this way!" Amborse bellows vociferously.  Dr. Fuzzyboots and Jasper both roll their eyes hard enough to cause pain, but comply, not wanting to incur the wrath and ridicule of their extraodinarily queer master.
They wander for hours, seeing just about every bleeding square inch of the palace there is to see, Ambrose raiding any food he sees along the way, and never again asking for directions.  Eventually, there is betrayal when Fuzzyboots and Jasper conspire against their master and promptly tackle him to the ground and pin him there.  The shouts of: "Traitors! Trecherous cunts! Bastards! Rebels! Mutiny I say, nothing less than noose-deserving mutiny!" attract the resident of the doube-doors which they are closest, who just so happens to be who they are searching for.
Captain Ambrose Mittens glances upwards and then straightens up, shrugging his assailants off. "Ah, see here now? I was just on the right path, and I was punished for it."
Fuzzyboots and his partner-in-crime stand up and straighten themselves up.  "We'd 've walked right past it, arse-wit," Jasper grumbles, but Ambrose pays no attention.
"Milady Puss, I apologize for such crass shouting, but you see, I was betrayed. . . ."
The tall, pearl-decorated and amused-looking dam raises her pink paw and says: "Think nothing of it, my good sire, I understand completely. I assume you are here to answer my summons?"
"Indeed," Ambrose says, "That is the case. But there is one small problem: I forgot where the Eastern Science-ing Wing is."
"Then why didn't you ask another servant-sir-?" Fuzzyboots begins but is interrupted by a paw in the face.
The Empress conceals a smile and simply gestures . . . east-ward.
"Come, my companions!" the Caption cries heartily, "Our Mission awaits!"





Sir Meowsirs jolts in surprise when the doors to his laboratory are thrown open hard enough to crack the stone walls.
"I hath arrived!" comes a much-too-loud cry, that unmistakable voice of Captain Ambrose Mittens.
"Oh. Yes, that's right, the Empress chose you . . . ." the scientist mutters as Dr. Fuzzyboots excitedly begins to examine the instruments on the tables.
"Goodness, Sir Meowsirs, this is a . . . a . . . ."
Meowsirs Puts on a smile and, sweeping over the Fuzzyboots's place, says: "Yes, my good friend: that is a Vortex-cubed-Extrapulator."  Fuzzyboots goes to point at another odd device but Meowsirs clamps his paw over the other scientist's mouth.  "Yes yes, plenty of rare and amazing instruments and devices reside here in my laboratory, but none of that compares to my newest device."
"Ah," the Captain says, "The . . . space . . . thing?"
"Sure," Sir meowsirs replies, "This way, my good sires; amazement awaits!"
"Oh no," Jasper says, genuinely frightened, "He's just like-."
"Well, I do know that I like my amazement!" Captain Mittens interrupts.
With a flair, Sir Meowsirs pulls of a heavy blanket and reveals the . . . space . . . thing . . . .