//------------------------------//
// January 11, 2016. 3:20 PM 
// Story: An Ally Called Preponderance 
// by Myriad Kay 
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They're clearing the runways now. I can see it through the window in front of me, though it does little to distract my thoughts. Science and discovery, however, have always been my refuge, so that is what I will write about. In the process, of course, I hope to continue my efforts to provide an anchor of memory by which I can return to these events, but forgive me if my focus in this entry tends to drift toward the academic. The events which have just transpired, I am not yet sure I will wish to revisit.

Dr. Arbeck's arrival, most excitingly, meant a chance to dig into Preponderance's notebook. Before even guiding her to the police station to check on the girls, I gave her specific directions to head up to their room and retrieve Preponderance's belongings. Officer Stiles met her at the hotel lobby with one of the girls' keycards, and they retrieved the backpack—along with Scootaloo's K-9 armor, to replace Sweetie Belle's ruined set.

Even now, Dr. Arbeck's excitement and sense of discovery provide me with an emotional refuge I need. No sooner had she seen the bag containing the invisible claw than she had it open and out, sticking her finger up into its flesh. I was disgusted, but the fact that her finger itself vanished answered many questions I didn't even know I had. The Veilspawn were carnivores, I realized, and consuming the remains of their prey would leave behind no visible evidence.

I watched the experiments from a phone in Dr. Arbeck's chest pocket as Stiles escorted her to the police station. Arbeck had insisted on a detour to examine the police-tape-riddled corpse of Scootaloo's Veilspawn, stretching out its wings and feeling every inch of its invisible body. She wanted to cut it open, then and there, but the officer standing watch over it refused. The body was now government property, he explained, and the scientists who would examine it were already chosen and on their way to retrieve it. Arbeck settled for a quick dental examination, leaving her positively glowing with excitement as she announced that it defied all known taxonomical categorization.

The police station looked more like a convention, its lot filled to the brim with cars from neighboring counties. Someone, perhaps coyly playing to stereotypes, had set up a table of donuts. Arbeck took one to go, eager to get into the station to meet the three extraterrestrials who had sought me out. Once inside, the gun safe was unlocked and, with armed officers standing on all sides, the three girls climbed out. Arbeck's eyes filled with wonder at the sight, moving side to side to see their bodies from every angle, and politely asking Apple Bloom to hold still when her head tracking made the examination difficult.

The first question Dr. Arbeck asked was a simple one that, while I knew the answer, I did not blame her for asking. "Can you understand me, and are you capable of abstract thought?"

Apple Bloom nodded. "I can understand you loud and clear. I ain't sure about abstract thought, though. I tried to get a cutie mark as an abstract painter once, but I just ended up in the hospital."

"They're children," I reminded Arbeck, "keep the jargon simple."

"Right," she said, adjusting the phone in her pocket to make sure I could see. "Can you answer me if I ask you what six times twelve is?"
Apple Bloom hesitated, her brow furrowing, but Sweetie Belle piped up. "Seventy-Two! My parents made me memorize it up to twelve, even though the homework just said we had to go to ten."

"You come from a culture with standardized education?" There was an excitement in Arbeck's voice. "And parents! Am I right in assuming you have two sexes?"

"I don't think we're supposed to talk about that with strangers," Sweetie Belle said.

My view shifted as Arbeck took the phone out of her pocket and turned the camera to face her. She was grinning broadly. "This is amazing! They're like nothing on Earth, but they're speaking English right down to the homonyms! You said Preponderance spoke English as well. Did he ever say anything about that?"

"He only implied it was unremarkable. It's possible it's somehow a shared development between different planets, or there may be some sort of translation process going on. The notebook he left might say more."

"Right! The book!" Arbeck's glee was palpable as she re-pocketed the phone. "I'll look at it while we drive, assuming we're going with the police. I want to go soon, but there are just so many questions!" She knelt down next to Apple Bloom, getting as close as she could to eye-level with the small alien. "You've been on our world for some time now. What's the biggest difference from your planet?"

Apple Bloom thought about this for some time, eyes trailing off to the side as she considered the question. Finally, she came up with an answer. "The air smells different. Also, everyone is really tall."

"And have you seen these things called 'revolving doors'?" Scootaloo said. "They're like a deathtrap at the front of buildings. You guys must lose claws in those all the time." She cocked her head, now taking her turn to look at Arbeck's body. "Or tails. Are you guys born with tails, and the revolving doors just got them all?"

Arbeck smiled, though rather than answering she turned to a nearby officer. "I want to take them to Georgetown University, unless you have orders to bring them elsewhere?"

"Sorry. We called this in, and the Feds want them at Mount Weather ASAP. All three ET's are going under maximum security lockdown until VS-White and VS-Gold are captured or eliminated."

"I understand. It's for the best, I guess." She turned back to the three ponies. "You girls ready for a road trip?"

Stiles, Arbeck, and the extraterrestrials, it was planned, would share a single car while the others flanked them for protection. Stiles helped the girls strap their seatbelts on while Arbeck, mounting her phone in the holder on Stiles' passenger-side dashboard, finally delved into Preponderance's writing. From my vantage point at the front of the car looking backward, I could just make out Scootaloo excitedly fluttering her wings against the back of the seat, eager to finally be inside one of the unbelievably fast vehicles she had been seeing since her arrival. By the time Stiles took her position in the driver's seat, Arbeck was already enthralled by the book and had come to several novel conclusions.

"Your recent research, Natalie, was on bacteria, am I right? Something about their decaying process made them disappear, leaving no measurable remains?"

"That's correct," I said. "And not just them, any bacteria around them, too."

Her grin widened. "They're not disappearing. They're teleporting. That's why Preponderance needed them. It's a biological teleportation device." She continued flipping pages, so quickly I could hardly fathom how she was taking it all in. "The creatures, the ones he calls 'Veilspawn', are a byproduct of the travel method, but also a key to get back home. The fluids from their body react with the bacteria and tell them where to send the organisms around them. The details are here, though it's more your level than mine." She flipped another page, squinting at it before adding, "he mentions you, here. If the person reading this lacks the knowledge to culture the bacteria for the return device on their own, he says how to contact you."

I felt myself swell with pride, but I didn't want to interrupt her reading to dwell on it. Though, one question needed to be asked. "Scootaloo said the book was about Veilspawn, not travel. Was she right?"

Arbeck was briefly silent, still flipping pages every several seconds. "She is right," she finally said. "The first bits are heavy on chemistry and biology, telling how to build the return device. But now, it's getting into Veilspawn." She began to flip pages faster, clearly skimming at this point to give me an overview. "There are anatomical diagrams, psychological observations, other stuff I'll need copies of later. But then, directions on building makeshift weapons, using human firearms..." She froze, a smile spreading across her face. "Your friend here has a page on hotwiring cars. You might as well title this thing 'So You're Being Hunted on Earth'."

I marveled, briefly, at the fact that Preponderance had written this without ever having been on Earth before. In the few days it was here, it had studied our culture and technology enough to pen a survival guide. And then, I realized, Preponderance had likely left to repeat the process. As I gawked inwardly at the magnitude of this task—to arrive on a planet with nothing but your own body, write a survival guide, and escape—I noticed a pensive look on Arbeck's face. "What is it?"

"This last page..." She looked up from the book, meeting my gaze. "It's written to you."

Before I could ask for details, Officer Stiles cut me off. "We have trouble."

Arbeck unhitched the phone, letting me look forward. Ahead of us, large boulders had been upended from the snowy ground and constructed into a long barricade across the road. It stood easily five feet tall and stretched to the horizon in both directions, save for a single opening a bit to the side of the road where the walls curved inward, as if funneling us in.

"It's a trap," Arbeck said simply.

"Of course it's a goddamn trap," Stiles replied, "but what are we supposed to do about it?" The cars ahead of us slowed to a stop, and Stiles picked up her radio. "This is definitely VS-Gold at work," she said into it. "Do we have a gameplan?"

The radio was silent for a long second. When it cracked to life, the answer was a firm order "VS-White! Protection on!"

No sooner had the order come than I heard the soft melody from the restaurant playing again. Stiles swiftly snapped a pair of shooting earmuffs over her head and passed one to Arbeck. After Arbeck had it on, she put her phone back in its holder. In the backseat, I could see the three ponies pressing their ears down against their skulls, looking fearfully out the window. Scootaloo's eyes widened with fear and she whipped her friends' knees with her tail, mouthing the word "Duck!"

A shot of red energy shattered both back windows of Stiles' now-stopped car, soaring through the space where the aliens' heads had just been. Meanwhile, the melody continued unhindered. I realized the creature's tactic: it knew that only the extraterrestrials could see it, and it was forcing their allies to use ear protection. It was cutting off the line of communication between the two. I grabbed my notebook and scrawled the words "LET ALIENS SPOT" as large as I could, holding it up to the camera for Arbeck to see.

She got the idea. Pulling the glove compartment open, she grabbed a flashlight, turned it on, and passed it back to Scootaloo, turning the phone to Stiles to share my idea. Stiles grabbed her hunting rifle and got out of the car, looking to the alien for direction. I could see several other police officers, some with automatic weapons, getting out of their cars to do the same.

Scootaloo quickly turned, her light shining to the right. A barrage of bullets tracked the slowly moving beam as it approached the earthen wall and then stopped, presumably signifying that the Veilspawn had leapt over and hidden. A moment later, Apple Bloom ducked just in time to dodge another blast of red energy that shattered the car's back window. Scootaloo spun, shining her light now in the opposite direction. Sweetie Belle's Veilspawn had blinked behind the squadron of police vehicles, singlehandedly keeping us surrounded. Over the wave of fire I could faintly hear a sound like a camera flash. Scootaloo cut off the flashlight beam by pointing it down, looking around frantically with her hooves still over her ears. I could hear the continuing sleep song, complemented now by the clatter of guns reloading.

The Veilspawn showed no desire to harm the officers firing at it, but it was clearly willing to dig through them if it had to. Scootaloo spun and shone her light directly forward just in time for Stiles to dive to the ground as a flurry of red energy blasts shattered her windshield, aimed at the ponies in back. As Scootaloo dove under the seat for dear life, her flashlight rattled to the ground. The officers continued firing forward, judging the creature's location by the occasional energy blast it fired at Stiles' car. In my backward-facing position, however, I was more concerned with what I saw coming up from behind.

Through the shattered back window, I could make out an oil truck rushing down the road toward us. The Veilspawn, I realized, were working together: Sweetie Belle's was the distraction, keeping us locked under magical sniper fire, while Apple Bloom's came in for the kill. This, I realized, was the intelligence I feared: it had stolen a truck.

Arbeck saw the look in my eyes and turned, her own eyes widening. She pulled at Stiles' belt, getting her attention, and gestured toward the oncoming truck. I also noticed, at this point, the panicked look on the girls' faces as they reached down to the car floor with their hind legs and shook Scootaloo. While diving under the seat to evade fire, Scootaloo had succumbed to the Veilspawn's sleep song and was officially out of commission. Stiles heavily dropped her body back into the driver's seat, connecting her seatbelt, slamming the gas pedal down, and heading into the snow and toward the wall's opening. Arbeck, a sudden look of fear donning on her, grabbed Stiles' hunting rifle and aimed a shot out the broken windshield, pulling the trigger. While I couldn't see out the front of the car, the sound of a large explosion told me that Apple Bloom's Veilspawn had planted some sort of homemade mine at the opening in the wall. Arbeck's shot, thankfully, had triggered it before the car had. Stone clicked against the car and dust poured into its interior as we bolted through the cloud of debris, swerving back onto the road and continuing northward, our entourage turning and following in our wake.

As the smoke cleared, I could see flashes of red behind us. The shots were not aimed at us, but rather the stone wall across the road, clearing a path for the oncoming truck. The sleep song was no longer audible, if playing at all, so I made a gesture of removing earmuffs. Arbeck saw it and obliged, motioning for Stiles and the girls to do the same.

"He's in that really big car," Apple Bloom said, peering out the shattered back window. Sweetie Belle's Veilspawn just jumped on, and they're both following us now."

Stiles pulled her radio to her mouth. "VS-Gold is in the truck, VS-White has just joined it. Keep ahead of them, but watch out for fire from VS-White." She hung up the radio, turning to Arbeck. "You were a good shot with the mine. Can you snipe the truck's driver?"

"I'm a zoologist. My experience is with a tranquilizer, but I can try." Arbeck reloaded the hunting rifle and unfastened her seatbelt, propping herself up and forcing her upper body through the sunroof. Though I could only see her knees, I knew she was lining up a shot. "I'm lined up with the driver's seat. Apple Bloom, I can't see what he looks like, and I want this to be a killing shot. How high up is his head?"

"He's... not in there."

"What?"

The sound of a camera flash, and the car lurched. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle shrieked in unison. I heard a clatter, and saw the hunting rifle bounce down the road behind us. Arbeck dropped back into her seat, hastily pulling her seatbelt into place. "They're on the car! Shake them!"

Stiles swerved the car left and right, holding up her radio to her mouth as she shouted "VS-White, VS-Gold, on our vehicle! Fire high, get them off!" Several shots rang out, but the cars moving alongside us swerved off-course as blasts of red energy shattered the asphalt in front of them. The roof above Apple Bloom tore open, the young pony's shrieks cracking her voice as she held her head low, curling up for protection. Eyes narrowing, Stiles cut the wheel all the way to the right.

The car turned sharp and rolled. The world around us tumbled, sickening me to my stomach even though I myself remained upright the entire time. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle held onto one another, tears running down their faces. The car bounced, and bounced again, each time crashing to the ground as my friends flailed in their seats. Finally, with a horrid screeching of smoke and metal, its misshapen remains slid to a stop.

For long seconds, I could see nothing. As the smoke cleared, the sight shook me to my core. Scootaloo, the only one of them without a seatbelt, had been caught in a piece of bent metal and was now bleeding freely, a widening pool on the car ceiling above her—which I could only assume meant we were upside down. The others were unconscious, partially hidden behind deflating airbags, but at least seemed to be breathing. And in the distance, I could hear the scraping of claws.

I stared, at a loss. Here I was, far away, watching helplessly as one of the aliens I had come to care for—care about—bled out in front of me, while the others lay unconscious, awaiting their doom. My heart was in my throat. Unsure what else to do, I looked into my phone and whispered "wake up".

Nothing happened. My grip on the phone tightened, and I spoke louder. "Wake up! Any of you, please, wake up!"

There was no movement. With a groan of metal, the back of the car began to open, pried apart by invisible claws.
I took a deep breath. As loud as my old lungs would allow, and no doubt drawing the attention of the entire airport, I shouted into my phone. "WAKE UP!"

With a lazy blink, Sweetie Belle stirred. Her dazed eyes traveled up at me, and then to Scootaloo's bleeding body, trying to process what was happening. As comprehension dawned on her, her hoof shot for her seatbelt, dropping her on the car ceiling painfully. She stifled her cry and rolled over onto her stomach, lifting her chest off the ground as she looked up, and froze.

I realized, at this moment, she was staring into the maw of not one, but two massive, invisible creatures that I could only imagine. Her front legs nearly gave out as a shiver ran through her body. Her head looked like it wanted to pull away, but she forced it forward. From behind her, I couldn't see her face, but I could see her shoulders tense, and her horn softly start to glow.

A faint green cloud outlined two massive figures in front of her. Outlined by her magic, I could finally get a sense of their shape and scale. They stood larger and more muscular than the lean, fast creature that had hunted Scootaloo, and the smaller of the two featured a jagged horn, just barely visible as close as it was to my view. They lowered their heads toward Sweetie Belle in unison, mouths open, though their movements slowed as her horn glowed brighter.

The light of her horn flared, glowing even brighter. As the camera on Arbeck's phone adjusted, I could see the two Veilspawn beginning to lean backwards, having to actively press against Sweetie Belle's magic to get closer to her. She shakily pressed herself up onto all four legs and raised her head, horn glowing even brighter.

The Veilspawn began to slide backwards. Apple Bloom's Veilspawn dug its claws into the concrete road, while Sweetie Belle's turned its horn toward her, firing off a shot of red energy that only narrowly missed as her horn flared again, twisting the creature's head to the side and throwing off its aim. With a shout, her horn redoubled in brightness, all but blurring out my camera as, foot by foot, the creatures were pressed back and away from her and her friends.

Her legs began to buckle. I could tell this was likely more than she had ever exerted herself before. Her shout briefly broke into a choking sob before resuming, taking a half-step forward as she lowered her head and tried to press the monsters as far away as she could. Her horn flickered, and I could tell she was losing her hold, but she was going to endure for as long as she could if it meant keeping her friends safe for a second longer.

The last thing I heard before my feed cut out was a soar of jets, followed by the beginnings of an explosion. And then, nothing.

I've been calling, and they still haven't gotten back to me. I've been calling every few paragraphs, as I write this, and still nothing. And I don't know what more I can do.