Chapter 1: The Plot Thickens
“Look, Loren, why don’t you work on optics for a while, maybe head up some research on air core collimation? That’s a promising field.”
“I’ve always wanted to work on dark energy, you know that.”
“Dang it, Loren! This department doesn’t want to commit any more scientists to chasing fantasies! We don’t have the cash, we need patentable research, not some non-applicable pseudoscience.”
“It hasn’t been established as pseudoscience, it just lacks concrete supporting evidence. There are suggestions that they are–”
“Stop it! I won’t hear another word of it. I may not understand the complexities of the equations behind it, but I know when to fund research and what to fund. That line is a dead-end!” Matthews put a hand on his face, waving me to the door. “Take the rest of the day off, Loren.” He slammed some papers on his desk and swivelled in his office chair to face the windows overlooking the dirty, grey cloud-covered skyline. “In fact, take a couple days break to think about it. Come back when you have a proposal that both interests you and is also economically feasible.”
My mouth opened and shut a few times. I wanted to argue my case, but I knew that in reality, he was right. Crushing as it was, science couldn’t advance on the whimsy of scientists. At least, not until the scientists themselves had enough money. I stalked out his office and slammed the door. I didn’t have to like it, though.
Making my way through the odd juxtaposition of wood-panelled offices with carpeting side-by-side to white smooth-rubber floored laboratories that lined the corridor. I had hoped that after publishing so many patentable papers for the University, they would finally fund my own personal project. I guess I was wrong.
As I passed the lab, I took my coat off the hook and placed it in my locker. I wouldn’t be coming in for a couple of days. I sighed, rubbing my forearms in the suddenly chillier lab. As I slammed my locker shut, I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath and feeling the rising need to scream. Instead, I brushed back my hair and rubbed my face with a tired hand. Maybe Matthews was right, maybe I did need a break.
The transit on the way home was boring and dull. The smog from the city hung low, occluding the sky above and smothering everything below it. I gazed out of the window of my car, wishing, not for the first time, to see the night sky again.
It’ll be there all the time, my father used to say. Blow the clouds away and the beautiful canvas of the night sky will be there, waiting for you.
My father wanted me to go into the environmental science like he did. He was so passionate about his little girl growing up to be an environmentalist crusader. He used to point to the deep dark vastness of the night sky on the rare moments the clouds were away and fervently try to convince me that the night sky would be visible again when all the smog and pollution was swept away. For me, it sparked a different kind of interest. A desperate desire to be free from the earthly shackles of the grime and filth that pervaded the city.
I wanted to leave everything behind. To pierce through the clouds and see the night sky beyond them.
But that was a dream long ago. Now I played with my own field of photonics, working in communications to draw the net tighter around the people of Earth. I didn’t get the opportunity to pursue astronomy, they never said I was suited for that. They just pointed to photonics section and told me, ‘you might like it there’. I tried it. I liked it, and I thought that one day I would be able to apply it to astronomy. I never got the chance.
––––––
The porch of the house was illuminated with bright floodlights, and yet I still managed to trip over the steps and bruise my shin. Cursing through gritted teeth, I limped towards the front entrance and fumbled around in my handbag until I could find my keys to shove them in my door. I also fished around for some painkillers and swallowed them dry. It would take a while, but my shin was killing me right now.
Getting the door open was a little bit of a challenge too. The door gets stuck halfway so you have to push it pretty hard to get it open. You have to do the same to get it closed. I’d get it fixed but it didn’t really seem a priority what with me cooped up in the lab and sleeping in my lab coat more often than not. They’d kick me out if I wasn’t so valuable.
I kicked off my flats and limped through the entrance, shoving the stuck door closed. With a painful sigh, I eased myself into the couch and observed the patchy discolouration of my shin turning green and yellow. Yuck. I yawned and flicked the television on. News. Ugh, depressing. Wars, famines and poverty. I glanced at the mail I had retrieved last night. There were some donation drives for the poor children in Africa. I decided I would donate a bit later, maybe tomorrow morning. Easing my guilt? Perhaps. It was all so unfair.
I yawned, feeling the stress and weariness accumulated from the day’s work piling up. Time for a short nap, I think… A short nap…
–––––
I woke up with a start. I was initially disorientated because I couldn’t hear the soft hum of the computers in the laboratory. I blinked several times until I realised I was still in my lounge room. The television had turned off, I must have hit the off button when I leaned on the remote. I fumbled around for the remote. Oh, it was on the small knee-high table. I must have turned it off and put it back there without thinking.
I yawned again. I was so tired. Maybe I should go to bed? I stumbled to my feet, feeling the dreaded pins and needles coursing through my muscles. Yep, definitely bedtime. Ugh, shouldn’t of slept on the couch. I trudged my way through the kitchen, passing a winged unicorn levitating various vegetables into pots and pans.
I stopped in the hallway.
Wait a minute, that’s not right...
“Hi,” I said quite simply. I really didn’t know what to think. My mind just went blank.
The equine turned around and gave me a sheepish smile.
“Oh, hi!” She put a hoof to the back of her head, somehow. Could horses do that? Surely not. “I was a bit hungry, so I thought I would cook myself some food.”
“Oh,” I said, waving a hand. “That’s fine then.”
The winged unicorn looked relieved at that. What? I’m the perfect hostess. Also, I’m probably imagining things, it’s not a good sign when you start talking to your hallucinations.
“It’ll be done in a moment.”
Does it count if the hallucination talked to you? I paused, shook my head and continued. Better not tempt fate. I walked down the hallway again, towards my bedroom. Something of a curious thought prompted me to turn back.
“Hang on,” I said, coming back into the kitchen. “Why are you in my house?” I had to know for some reason. Why my house? Why my food?
The creature fluttered her wings a bit.
“Oh, uhm, magical spell mishap. I didn’t know where I’d end up to be honest. Looks like I ended up in a fictional universe again!”
I nodded at that explanation as if it made sense. Wait a minute… It didn’t. Also, fictional universe? Laughable!
“Hang on,” I repeated. “If anything, you’re the fictional thing here!”
The winged unicorn raised an eyebrow.
“Really? That’s preposterous, I know I’m real.”
“You’re a talking winged unicorn for flip’s sake!”
“Alicorn, I’m an alicorn.”
“And I’m a human.”
“I figured.”
I sighed. I was still having trouble deciding whether this was a hallucination or a dream. I decided on the latter, since it had less negative connotations with that line of inquiry. I yawned again. Yeah, this is definitely a dream. I was tired enough. Did that make any sense? I didn’t care.
“Right. Okay. I think I’ll head back to my room and get some sleep. Don’t burn the house down.” I paused. “Goodnight, purple fantastical alicorn.”
“Goodnight, light-pink fictional human.”
I went into my bedroom, closed the door and changed into my pyjamas. Within a few minutes I had fallen to sleep. I had a dreamless slumber.
–––––
The next morning was strangely uneventful aside from the fact that alicorn thing was placidly sipping coffee and writing notes with my pen and paper. Not that that was a big deal mind you, I had plenty of those, but the fact she was doing it so nonchalantly made me cross for some reason. Shouldn’t a stranger be more polite? Helping herself to my stationery, the nerve.
I realised that I was having the inappropriate reaction to having a mythical creature in my house. I decided that it was high time to have the appropriate response.
“What in the flippin’ blue blazes are you still doing here?!”
The mythical creature dropped her pen in surprise as she turned around to look at me.
“Oh, didn’t I explain this to you? I dropped into your house by accident. I need to stay here for a while before I can figure out a way to get back. You didn’t seem to mind last night.”
I stood there trying to think of something coherent to say back to the mythical creature.
“But I thought you weren’t real…” I trailed off, trying to think of something else to say.
The creature looked at me with wide eyes. “Uhm, I
“This is such a confuddlement,” I finally muttered, slipping into one of the chairs.
The alicorn gave me a sympathetic look. Then she pursed her lips.
“Confuddlement, where have I heard that phrase before…”
The alicorn tapped the pen on the paper a few times.
“Ah!”
“AH!”
“What?!”
“What?!”
“I just remembered!”
“Remembered what?”
“Not what, but who!”
“Who is it?”
“Not it, it’s you!”
“Me? I’m not it!”
“But you are, aren’t you?”
“I’m you?”
“No you’re you, I’m me.”
“I know I’m not you, I’m me, not you.”
“What? Can you— Ugh! This is confusing me.”
“Me too.”
We both lapsed into silence after that.
“So,” I began. “What was it that you remembered?”
The alicorn did this thing with her ears where it perked up and swivelled around and then flicked alternatively. I only just stopped myself from reaching out and touching them.
“Well I just realised, from the way you said ‘confuddlement’… you don’t happen to be studying photonics, would you?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“And you don’t happen to be working at the University?”
I nodded more cautiously this time. Had this mythical creature been through my files?
“Yes…”
“You’re Dr. Loren!” she exclaimed, bounding up from her seat and coming around the table to stare at me disconcertingly. She sported a large grin that seemed two inches too wide for her face.
“Were you looking through my purse?” I cast my gaze around for my belongings. They were still sitting undisturbed on the table. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m your biggest fan!” The alicorn grinned toothily and bounded up and down in joy. She cocked her head in mid-air and just stopped mid-leap, like she realised something. “Oh, gosh,” she said. “That’s not entirely true. You’re more like my favourite character. I guess I’m more of a fan of the author.” She turned to me. “You wouldn’t happen to know the author, do you? Sometimes you break the fourth wall so I have no idea if you actually know her.”
“What?”
The alicorn batted me with her hoof playfully. I glared at her until she rubbed it sheepishly on one of her other legs. Her enthusiasm died down a little, but it was soon back to full blast.
“Oh, uhm, sorry…” she paused for a moment. Then she just grinned again and looked me up and down like I was some sort of animal exhibit. “You’re not exactly like I imagined. I mean, I was in a universe with humans, but I never thought I’d be in Dark Matters. This is so exciting!”
She circled around me a few times before I lost my patience and gripped the creature with my hands and steered her in front of me.
“Let’s get this absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent, straight,” I began. I ignored the squeal that came from her again. “This is not a fictional world. It’s real.” I took a deep breath. “It’s not fake.”
“Of course it’s not real. You’re in fiction, a fictional book!” As if that explained anything.
“Look, whoever your name is—”
“Twilight”
“—Twilight. This world is real. How can it not be? To me, you’re the fictional character. The only difference is, I don’t know what book or mythology you’ve come from.” I slapped my face a couple of times and blinked. The alicorn was still there. “I still think I’m hallucinating or dreaming or something. That’s how unreal this whole situation is!”
I gestured to my surroundings. “Let’s say this is fiction,” I continued. “Let’s say I’m not real. Wouldn’t it be more prudent to assume that you are the one dreaming? That you’re hallucinating? What is the evidence that I’m not real? Well it is observed that the world here is self-consistent. It makes sense. Things obey Laws and you’re the element of inconsistency in these results. I must conclude that you, being the illogical element, must be the fake in this otherwise real world. I mean how much more unlikely is ‘this whole world is fake’ compared to ‘you’re the one that’s fake’?” My argument was a little rough for sure, but I got the point across, even though I was never any great shakes as an oral debater.
“Actually,” the alicorn answered me with a smug grin plastered all over her muzzle. “I’ve been in a comic book before. I know it’s possible to fall into a fictional world. So reality can have inconsistencies and it can still be fictional.”
“What? You can’t brush aside my arguments just like that! That doesn’t even make any sense, how can you fall into a fictional world?!” I flicked back a lock of my hair that fell across my eyes.
The alicorn squealed again. “Oh that’s so cute! Do it again!”
“What?”
“That hair thing. Do it again!”
“What? No!”
The alicorn splayed her ears back. “Awwww.” She pursed her lips and subsided slightly.
“Wait,” Twilight mumbled. “What if I can prove that we’re in a fictional world?”
Now I was interested. A scientific approach?
“Okay,” I answered giving a lopsided smirk. “How are you going to do that?”
“Well,” she replied, hesitating. It sounded like she was making the plan up as she dictated it to me. “I could tell you about what’s written about you.”
I threw my hands up. “Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. How much of my life do you know?”
The alicorn looked a little uncomfortable. “Well it’s not like I know a lot about your life. Only the important bits. Like what school you went to, where you got your degree, what love interests you–”
“Woah, woah, woah, love interests? What do you know about my love life?”
“I know about Daniel—”
“Okay!” I said quickly. “Let’s not go into details with that little disaster. No. Woah. I don’t know how you know that, but that’s off-limits, definitely.”
Twilight fell silent for a moment, then her ears perked. “All I need to do is establish what point in the plot we’re currently at. If I can do that, then I can predict the future!”
I conceded the point with a nod. “That’s probably better than my idea of cross-examining how much of my life you actually know about.” I shuddered.
Twilight squared her ‘shoulders’ (do equines even have shoulders?) and found something interesting to look at on my floor. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t really think about that.”
I sighed. “So I guess we’ll have to start by establishing what part of the ‘plot’ I’m at?” I paused, waiting for Twilight to ask me some questions. She looked at me expectantly. I blinked at her. She blinked back.
“Well?” I prompted her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re going to have to ask me some questions...” I waved a hand at her in a curt gesture.
Twilight’s eyebrows arched as comprehension dawned on her equine face. “Oh! Yes!” She thought about it for a moment and then launched straight into the meat of the matter. “You’ve graduated university and you’ve got a job already… so what’s left?” She tapped a hoof on the floor.
“Have you invented wormhole technology yet?”
“No. Wait, what?!”
Twilight nodded. “So we’re not that far into the future…” she mumbled a few things and started pacing.
“Hey,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Go back to the part where I invent wormhole technology.”
Twilight ignored me and continued her line of inquiry. “Hmm, so it’s before volume two… Are you taking a couple of days break from work?”
“Huh?” I was making a lot of these dumb questioning noises. “Yes, actually, how did you— actually, never mind.” The knowledge this creature possessed was becoming more and more disturbing. No, it must be a product of my mind, right? It’s a hallucination and a hallucination could have access to all my memories. Were hallucinations always this real? If this creature was a product of my mind, then it would know what I knew… A shiver crept down my spine.
Twilight stopped pacing, it didn’t seem like she noticed my discomfort. “That means we’re back at– oh! How could I forget? It’s right back at the beginning! The morning after… or was it a day after that? Nevermind, you take a break, you receive a phone call, they say something about getting you, then three humans show up in business suits. Heh, I always liked that part, very dramatic…”
“No,” I said, crossing my arms. This was ridiculous. What was I doing talking to a mythical creature about what’s real and what was not? “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe you.”
Twilight snorted and folded her… forelimbs? Legs? I’ll just go with arms.
“Well, how could I prove to you that I’m real?”
I rubbed my forehead and then clapped my hands together, startling the equine.
“Tests!” I yelled triumphantly. “I’m a scientist. Science requires tests.”
For some reason she seemed excited at the prospect. She agreed wholeheartedly.
“Yes!” She nodded at that. “The scientific method never fails.” Well at least there were some things that we could agree on.
I frowned as I thought about the problem. Establishing that she was real was only half the solution. If she was real then that would lend credibility to her theory. Weak credibility, but the main problem was that it didn’t strengthen my position any further.
“Actually,” I continued with that line of thought, “since the tests conducted in this universe is internally consistent, it could only establish that you are real in this world. Suffice to say, this would not help in either proving or disproving that this universe is fictional.”
“Sweet Celestia,” she mumbled. “That’s right… but then how could we examine the difference?”
“Internal consistency is a problem because we’re bound to the rules of this host universe. Maybe, if I can examine your supposed universe you’ve come from, I can establish whether or not my universe is fictional.”
Twilight made to say something but I just kept going on.
“And I don’t mean showing me a book and saying ‘here’s your universe’, it could be a set of notes written with careful observation, or it could be some sort of construct that is a record of my universe. No, what we need is proof of causation. Some sort of primer that shows I’ve been created as part of the whimsical fantasy of another, not born out of natural causes.”
Twilight struggled with that. Her face scrunched up as she pondered the problem, she had ceased her pacing and was now holding her head with her... hooves.
“I agree that seeing a book about your universe might not convince you entirely, but it is strong evidence, isn’t it?”
I snorted. “Please. Strong evidence would be something irrefutable, something so compelling that I couldn’t possibly deny it. Something that can’t be explained away. The truth.”
“But I can’t give you something that is entirely true or accurate. The limit of knowledge, the limit of measurement—”
“Yes, yes, I know, the term was relative. What I need is validated evidence that fits within a model and that model demonstrates predictive power that satisfies or exceeds the current theory. Something that establishes enough certainty to allay any doubts.”
I gestured around me.
“My current theory is that you’re a hallucination. This world is real. The world is demonstrably real for me for most of my life. This has been thrown into question for the last day, but logic has reaffirmed my position that I should treat this world as real. If I do not, well, there would consequences for that.”
Twilight looked like she wanted to say something, but a slight nod from her also seemed to show that she at least accepted my position.
“So all I need to do is demonstrate beyond reasonable doubt that this world is fictional?” She cocked her head and smiled ruefully. “But that seems so straightforward when I say it… in practice, it may not even be possible to prove…”
I snapped my fingers. “Exactly. So whilst you may believe I’m fictional, I don’t have to believe that too unless you can prove it to me.”
Twilight nodded, deep in thought. “The burden of proof lies with the positive claim.”
“Yep.”
“Hmm.”
We both mulled over the problem for a while. My thoughts were interrupted by the bodily sounds of my stomach. “Oh,” I said. “I’m hungry.”
I opened the fridge door. There wasn’t much in it. I looked back at the alicorn. She shrunk back.
“I always get pretty hungry whenever I perform a major magic spell.”
I groaned and rummaged through what was left of my fridge contents to rustle up a quick breakfast. There were some cucumbers left over, some bread, mayonnaise and some eggs. Looks like I’ll have a simple sandwich for breakfast.
“Magic!” I exclaimed suddenly, slamming back the fridge door. “Magic doesn’t exist here, so how could it work here?”
Twilight looked absolutely befuddled.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said slowly. “Are you saying that simply because there’s no magic in this world, I couldn’t possibly use it?”
I thought about it for a few moments then nodded. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? There are no physical laws here that allow for magic, hence I must conclude that if I see magic, there must be an alternate explanation for it because it is very unlikely for it to be real.”
“Or…” she drawled. “If this was a fictional universe, there would be flexibility in this universe to incorporate the unbelievable.” She levitated a pen and waved it around to punctuate her points. “The audience must have some sort of suspension of disbelief—” she dropped the pen “—or some plots wouldn’t seem possible without it.”
Hmm, it seems like we weren’t getting anywhere with this.
“I need someone independent to confirm this,” I said, shaking my head. “If someone else says you’re real then it increases the likelihood that this isn’t a hallucination.” I paused. “Otherwise I could be speaking to a figment of my imagination—”
“Hey!”
“—barring the fact that we haven’t established your physical existence.”
Twilight relented, after the fact.
“I would be a little more offended about that statement, but I would’ve done the same in your shoes.”
“Shoes?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. I glanced at my feet.
Twilight looked confused for a moment, but then chuckled. “Horseshoes,” she clarified.
We lapsed into an awkward silence for a moment.
“Tea?” I offered suddenly. My throat was dry.
“Okay.”
I walked over to the kitchen and brewed a cup of tea for Twilight and myself. While the water was boiling, I gathered my thoughts about the situation. So far we had established that without independent confirmation, Twilight would remain a hallucination. I thought about that. What if she wasn’t a hallucination? I would have to accept that she was real. My eyes widened. If she was real, then think of all the scientific implications magic could yield.
No, not magic, I corrected myself. A new field of science.
My thoughts were dampened somewhat by another more realistic one.
Then again, you could just be going crazy. Still, the scientific advances possible...
“Uhh, Dr. Loren? Are you okay?”
I twitched and looked at the alicorn. Without realising it, I had been grinning like an idiot.
“Oh, yes. Fine, actually. Super duper terrific!” I babbled.
The kettle whistled then flicked itself off. Twilight seemed inordinately fascinated by the object.
“The book told me about these,” she commented, eyes still fixed on the kettle. “I don’t see how they could work in the absence of magic.”
I smiled. “Would you like to know?”
Her eyes practically radiated glitter and sparkles.
“Oh, yes! Yes please! Do you know how it works?” she exclaimed.
I shrugged helplessly. “I’m no engineer, but I know the basic principles on how it works.”
Twilight grinned. “I can finally get an in-canon explanation on how things work!” She did a thing that looked like she was trotting on the spot. It looked hilarious.
“Okay,” I choked out in between snorts of laughter. Gosh, that trotting on the spot thing. She didn’t seem to notice my laughter at her expense, as excited as she was, so I continued. “Hmm,” I said, trying to think of a starting point. “Do you know what electricity is?”
To my surprise, Twilight nodded. “Yes, it’s in static electricity and lightning, sometimes our devices will convert magical energy to electrical discharge.” She waved a dismissive hoof. “But it’s useless, it’s dangerous and it’s unstable, unlike magical energy.”
Magical energy? I’ll ask about that later.
“Right and I’m assuming you know about magnetism?” A confirming nod cemented her understanding. “We found out that electricity and magnetism were tied together. If you stand on top of a mountain during a lightning storm, you’ll see a compass needle flicker whenever lightning strikes close.”
Twilight raised her hoof in a way that reminded me of a child in class. I raised an eyebrow at that. “You don’t have to raise your hand, err, hoof here, Twilight.”
She shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said. “Habit.” She shook her head. “So how do you control such powerful electricity?”
I cleared my throat. “Most, if not all, of our world’s devices work with either mechanics, thermodynamics and/or electricity.” I gestured to the kettle. “Electrical energy is produced from mechanical energy as a loop of wire moving through a magnetic field produces a force on the electrons within the conductor. The electrons which carry this energy can be used to perform work, in the case of this kettle, it moves through another conductor and causes it to heat up, thus heating up the water. After the water reaches a set temperature, another mechanism kicks in and the water stops boiling. Basically the work is controlled by a known set of conditions, each triggering another.”
Twilight paced around the kitchen her head bowed in contemplation. “Electrons…” she muttered. “Magnetism… But how would you control it…?”
I busied myself by getting the teabags and pouring in the tea. I handed a cup over to Twilight, who accepted it gratefully. After a moment, she smiled somewhat ruefully at me.
“I must admit,” she said. “I’m a little confused with the concepts.”
I grinned. “So was I, I never really got science until I found my passion in it at university.” I paused. I was starting to enjoy her company more and more. If she was a hallucination, or a construction of my imagination, did that mean I was enjoying my own company? I swallowed thickly. I suddenly had an image of myself sitting at the table, alone at home with two cups of tea and sipping by myself, talking to empty space.
“Dr. Loren?” Twilight interrupted. I was jolted back into the present with two big purple eyes staring right into my soul.
“Ah!” I yelled, stumbling back a bit. “Oh, you scared the wits out of me!”
Twilight stumbled back a bit too.
“Sorry!” she said quickly. “I was worried when you just stopped talking all of the sudden.”
I shook my head.
“Sorry, Twilight. It’s just that…” I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to explain the conundrum. “Like I said before, I don’t know whether you’re real or not. And... well if you’re real that presents some problems, if you’re not… that presents even more problems.” I sighed. “I could be going crazy.” I swallowed a few gulps of my tea. “That scares me. A lot.”
Twilight looked absolutely horrified. “I’m s-sorry,” she stammered, “I didn’t want you to feel like that. I’m just reporting things as I see it…”
“That’s alright,” I muttered, waving away her anxiety. “We just need to independently confirm you exist and we’ll work it out from there.” I was suddenly struck by an idea. “I know!”
Twilight looked apprehensive, staring at me.
“Let’s introduce you to some of my friends!” I exclaimed.
“Hey wait—”
Just keep calm, Loren, everything is real. I reached for the phone.
I almost convinced myself.
Almost.