//------------------------------// // 16. Hiding in Plain Sight // Story: Destinies // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// The doorbell rang. Meg reluctantly walked over to the peephole. As expected, it was Agent Fowler, there to check out The Effect from the other side of their shared wall. At least she had been able to delay this visit till Tuesday, giving Twilight a chance to remove the anti-eavesdropping spell from the wall—just in case someone on the other side checks to see if they can listen in on what was bound to take place. It could not be put off any longer, so open the door she did. “Hello, Mrs. Coleman,” the agent said as Meg stepped aside, letting her in. It was already dark out, but the agent was still in her pant suit attire, and in her hand—adding to Meg’s already growing dread—was a modified Geiger counter. No one else was outside. “Isn’t Special Agent Holmes with you?” Meg asked as she closed the door. “He has business elsewhere,” Fowler cryptically offered. Meg wondered if that was good or bad. Steve joined them. His eyes fell on the modified probe. Noticing that, Fowler stated, “You’re intrigued by the modification.” “I certainly am,” he said. The probe was covered by a layer of gray metal, probably lead, rendering it useless for its intended task. Fowler proceeded to explain. “As you can see, the probe is now shielded. We’ve injected suitable radioactive material into the probe itself. Anywhere else in the known universe, the reading would be off the scale. But here…” She switched it on. There were a few clicks every second on average. The agent began walking towards the room that served as the home office, holding the probe out front. The Colemans followed, as if walking towards the gallows. It seemed inevitable the probe would zero in on the doll; but after studying how Geiger counters worked, Twilight insisted it couldn’t have that level of precision—not that she had anticipated this particular customization. Meg was severely tempted to confess. If it truly was only a matter of time before the FBI found out, it would be a whole lot better if they first found out from them; but two reasons stopped her: first, it would break their Pinkie Promise; and second, they would come off looking crazy. That wouldn’t be a problem if Twilight would reveal herself to them, but she’s still hopeful she can suppress that broadcast interference. The simulations they’ve got running in the cloud are making progress, but it’s hard to say when they will converge on a solution—if there was a solution. As they entered the office, the clicking rate had already slowed down. Fowler made her way to the part of the wall where, on the other side, the effect was strongest. The clicking slowed down with each step. She stopped in front of the bookshelves, on top of which were the two dolls. The only hope was that the click rate, at this point, was so low, less than one per minute, it was hard to notice any changes. Twilight may have been right after all. She continued scanning the rest of the room, the clicks becoming more frequent as she moved away from the bookshelves. “No real surprises here,” she said, “apart from that autograph on the Pinkie Pie doll. Did Andrea Libman sign it or something?” Meg exchanged looks with Steve. “No… she didn’t…” he said. “You know about that?” Fowler stopped scanning and turned to face him. “You got me,” she confessed, throwing up her arms—or at least as much as she could while holding the device and its probe with both hands. “As you can imagine, it’s not something that frequently comes up on the job.” “I’d imagine not,” said Meg. How would Twilight react to this development? First setting down the Geiger counter, she walked over to the Pinkie doll and reached up, taking it off the shelf, and examined the signature. “Personally, I’d go for an autographed Twilight Sparkle doll. She is best pony.” As she reached up and put the doll back on the shelf, she said, “I wonder what Twilight would make of this effect? She’d probably just cast a spell or two or something and would know exactly what was going on and what to do about it.” Meg caught herself before she rolled her eyes. There were so many things she could say to that, none of them particularly helpful. “Too bad she’s not here right this second,” she said with complete sincerity. Fowler looked at her for a second, then broke out in laughter. A second later, Meg belatedly smiled. “Good one,” the agent said. “You nailed the delivery.” She picked up the Geiger counter and started for the front door. “Looks like it could be something in the wall. We may need to cut a section out for further testing, not to mention getting it to the middle of nowhere where it won’t interfere with broadcasts.” She stopped in front of the door, turning around. “But first, we need to better localize it, and that means we need a much stronger radioactive substance for this thing,” she said, lifting the probe. “With the added shielding,” she said less than enthusiastically, “I’m going to get quite the workout.” “If it has that short of a half-life,” Steve said, “it would need to be fresh.” “Oh, we know. We’re working on that. As you can image, the technical issues—not to mention bureaucratic—are proving to be quite challenging.” Twilight inspected a thin, rectangular piece of what seemed to be some kind of plastic. On the back was a strip of magnetic material; a spell revealed the reversing magnetic domains that, they were told, encoded the information embossed on the other side. Celestia and Luna were more focused on what Meg was saying. They were getting an overview of money in the human realm, in what was the first weekly meeting with their new Royal Advisor on Human Affairs, to be held every Thursday evening. “So, cash is now used to mainly for inexpensive items, and even then it’s becoming common to use credit or debit cards for everything. Since large amounts of cash are rarely used, it has been made deliberately difficult to use so as to hinder criminal activities, which prefer to use untraceable cash. The same applies to cash equivalents, like precious metals and gems.” Celestia digested what she had just heard as she raised a tea cup to her lips. After setting it back down, she said, “It truly is difficult paying you in a form that you can use in your realm.” “I’m afraid so. Small amounts I could probably get away with, but that isn’t enough to do us much good. The legally required paperwork for large amounts would attract too much attention. Regardless of the amount, I’d owe taxes on what I sold, so I’d have to document what I paid for it, and, well, obviously I couldn’t do that.” “At least you can spend your salary here in Equestria,” Luna said in consolation. Meg gathered up the materials she had brought with her—her credit cards, some coins, some paper currency, and her checkbook—and with her hands put them back into her saddlebags. She sat back down on her knees, and sighed. Avoiding eye contact, she said, “And speaking of unwanted attention from authorities…” Meg was referring to the FBI, Twilight knew. She wished she would have a little more faith. “The simulations are making good progress,” she tried to convince her yet again. “It won’t be long before this problem goes away.” The human turned to face the alicorn. “You’re not the one they’ll arrest. This can destroy our lives. It would really, really help if you show yourself to them. You know one of them is your fan. You don’t even have to tell them everything.” They already had this conversation, of course. Twilight wished she had an answer that everypony would be happy with, but she didn’t. “There’s no way to know how they’d react,” she repeated her argument. “Maybe Fowler is a fan, but even you had a hard time at first dealing with our existence. Holmes is a total unknown, never mind the people they work with. It’s just too big a risk.” That, plus the fact it would force them to begin relations with the human government long before they were ready. There was still much they needed to learn about the humans and their realm; and regardless, beginning relations with a crisis hanging over them was not a good way to start. Take care of the crisis first, learn a lot more about them, then they could start relations. Meg stood up in frustration and walked over to the window, gazing at the distant Ponyville under the early night sky. “What is the risk they will find the doll first?” Luna patiently asked. Twilight was prepared for that question. “I really don’t think they can modify their device to be precise enough to zero in on a small object like that doll. But for the sake of argument, assume they can and they take it away. In that case, we first find it again; next, once we have the spell to stop the broadcast interference, we apply it; then we take the doll back and put it someplace far away where they’ll never find it.” That did little to mollify Meg. “That won’t let us off the hook,” she said, still looking out the window. “The FBI will believe we broke into a government facility and stole it back, even if they lack a shred of evidence to prove it.” “And if I do introduce myself,” Twilight said, irritated that Meg won’t see the obvious, “I’ll be confirming to them that you are involved and that you’ve been keeping it a secret from them. Right now, all they could know is that you are in possession of a doll with mysterious powers. To blame you, they would have to first believe you did something to give the doll those powers.” There was silence as all eyes were on Meg. She clasped her hands behind her neck as she continued facing the window. With a resigned sigh, she said, “I may be damned if you do and damned if you don’t.” She turned around to face the alicorns, dropping her hands to her side. “I sure hope you’re right, Twilight.” The doorbell rang. Meg quickly flew over to the peephole to verify it was her brother and family. It was. She flew back to the living room and sat on the sofa, out of sight of the door. Twilight was in the office, waiting for her cue. “You can come in!” she shouted. She heard the door open and several people enter. “Over here!” With growing anticipation she heard small footsteps race towards her. Susie will finally get to see her as a pony and experience a Pinkie Pie party in Equestria. After all the stress she had endured the past week, she was looking forward to being reminded of what made her a brony. Her niece turned a corner and stopped, mouth agape, staring at the orchid pegasus on the sofa. “What do you think of my new look?” Meg asked her. Susie slowly approached her. “Twilight really turned you into a pony?” “With some help from her best friends.” She waved her to come closer with a hoof. “You can hug me; I’m still your aunt Meg.” The little girl didn’t need to be told twice. She flung herself at the pony and wrapped her arms around her withers. Meg returned the hug by nuzzling her face. After stroking her mane a few times, Susie pulled back a bit. “You’re a pegasus,” she said in wonderment. “I’ve noticed,” Meg smiled, as she opened and closed her wings. “You can fly?” “And walk on clouds and do everything else a pegasus can do.” “Can you do a sonic rainboom?” she asked, eagerly anticipating an affirmative answer. Unfortunately, she had to disappoint her. “There’s only one pegasus awesome enough to pull that off,” she told her. “You know that.” “Yeah, I know,” she said, disappointed, but quickly rebounded. “Can I touch your wing?” She started to unfold a wing but stopped. “Yes, but you have to be careful.” The wing extended the rest of the way as she said, “I’m still new at the whole preening thing.” “I promise I’ll be careful,” she said as she began, carefully, to explore her wing. Susie’s parents had caught up to her by now and were standing a few feet away. “You actually have to preen?” her brother asked. Meg looked up at him as Susie continued stroking her feathers. “What can I say? Ponies have to worry about personal hygiene too. Fortunately, Twilight gave me a preening kit.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Twilight quietly approaching them, a subtle hint that she needed to wrap things up. “Now, Susie, remember, that when you meet the other ponies you can’t touch them. Treat them like people, okay?” “Okay…” she reluctantly agreed, and began fidgeting. “When do I get to meet other ponies?” “Well…” Meg said, stalling for time as Twilight got closer, “why don’t you look behind you.” Susie turned around and her face lit up. “Twilight!” She ran to the alicorn but in an incredible show of restraint remembered not to hug her. “Hello, Susie,” Twilight said with a warm smile. “Ready to go to Equestria? Pinkie Pie has a great party planned for you!” “Right now?!” the little girl exclaimed, jumping for joy. “Very soon.” Meg began hovering above the sofa. “I’ll let them know you’ll be there shortly.” She waited just long enough for Susie to see her hovering, giving her a big smile as she invoked the return spell. She and Twilight had departed not far from the main barn at Sweet Apple Acres, where the party was to take place, and to there she had returned. Everypony was milling about in the late morning sunshine, and she trotted over to join them. The Crusaders were there, as were the rest of the Mane Six, Spike, also the other Apples, plus her husband—no, a certain pegasus was missing. Meg searched the skies but only saw a few scattered clouds. Applejack approached her with a look of mild annoyance. “They’ll be here in a minute,” Meg assured her. “Much obliged for the head’s up,” Applejack said, but then she looked up at a cloud that was just a few hundred feet above the ground, almost directly on top of them. Meg had somehow failed to notice how low it was. “Could ya go up there and wake Rainbow Dash up?” So that was the source of her annoyance. Looking up at the cloud in question, she said, “You know she’s up there?” “Eyeup. Fluttershy’s been up there, even tried to wake her up, but you know her…” Meg looked at Fluttershy, who looked back sheepishly. Too timid to disturb her sleep, got it. “All right, I’ll take care of it.” She took flight, circling around and gaining altitude, until she was above the cloud. Looking down, she had no trouble spotting the napping pegasus against the several hundred square feet of whiteness; Rainbow Dash didn’t exactly blend in. She flew over to her and hovered above her, taking in the situation. Dash was splayed out on her back, tongue sort of hanging out of her open mouth, her wings unfurled against the cloud top, her tail—okaaay… I really didn’t need to see that. Maybe it didn’t matter that much to ponies, but Meg had been a human for far, far longer. Sighing, she put it out of her mind, which was rather easy to do as a pony, and focused on her task, setting down on the cloud next to the snoring pony, and considered the best way to wake her up. “You should take a picture of that and sell it on eBay,” a familiar voice behind her helpfully suggested. “You’d make a fortune!” You just had to pick today of all days. Fortunately, Rainbow Dash was too sound a sleeper to have heard that—or was that unfortunately? Meg couldn’t decide which it was, as she shot a disgusted look at the draconequus standing a dozen feet away. “Whaaat?” he innocently said, a halo over his head. “I’m only trying to help.” She started walking towards him. “Help?” she said with a raised eyebrow. He’s reformed, she kept reminding herself. “You’re not gonna pay the rent with what Sunbutt’s gonna pay you,” he pointed out. “This is the perfect opportunity to make some money in your realm from one of her little ponies!” Discord was insufferably pleased with his own genius. If this is how he behaves when he’s reformed… While it’s true he hasn’t done anything evil since his reformation—even being helpful in his own, unique way—he could still be a pain in the flank. What’s he up to? The collection of random animal parts came across, in flesh and blood, as more… discordant than in the cartoon, but he seemed sincere enough. Was it that he didn’t know any better, or was it just his chaotic nature? Whichever, Meg was desperate to change the subject. “How do you even know about eBay?” she asked. Or The Wizard of Oz, for that matter. “You’re much too young for that type of knowledge,” he said, wagging an uplifted talon and talking down to her as if she were a little filly. “Ask me again in a few centuries.” Meg face-hoofed. “I’m beginning to understand how Jean-Luc Picard felt.” “Ahhhh…” he said excitedly, pointing at her. “I see what you did there!” He was suddenly wearing a Starfleet uniform—in command red, naturally. “That’s what I like about you, Meg. Nopony else gets this stuff.” Meg looked askance at Discord, already finding this tiresome. “Why are you here?” And please not for the party! “I just wanted to touch bases with you, that’s all,” he pouted. “You haven’t visited me since your ponification.” “I don’t even know where you li—” “That’s exactly what Twilight said!” “I still don’t know where you live.” They both looked up and saw Twilight and Fluttershy hovering above them. “And what’s with that shirt?” Twilight asked, mystified. Discord gave Meg a knowing wink. Fluttershy hovered over in front of Discord. “We agreed this party wasn’t appropriate for you,” she lectured. “It’s all right; he’s just here to see me,” Meg explained. “Look, I’ll attend one of your tea parties with Fluttershy, okay? I’d love to try your cucumber sandwiches.” “Perfect!” he shouted with glee, clasping his claws together. “That’s all I’m asking for.” He was gone in a poof. Twilight and Fluttershy set down next to Meg as she collapsed onto her haunches. “Was he being difficult?” asked Twilight with some concern. “No, not really,” Meg said wearily. She gave them a forced smile. “An Equestrian experience wouldn’t be complete without a Discord encounter.” She got up and started walking back to Rainbow Dash, who was still sound asleep. “Though I’m sure glad I didn’t meet him before he was reformed.” And I can’t image why the cartoon would misrepresent his sense of humor, she sarcastically thought to herself. Was he even joking? She wasn’t sure which would be worse. “Lucky you…” opined Twilight. That elicited a sheepish grin from Meg. Yeah, that wasn’t too bright. She stood over the snoring pegasus. “Not a light sleeper, is she?” Twilight gave her a smirk. “Watch and learn.” She leaned in, putting her muzzle near an ear, and whispered, “Daring Do is signing autographs for the Wonderbolts.” Rainbow Dash jerked awake and was airborne in no time, frantically looking around. “Where!?” After a few seconds she fixated on Twilight’s giggling smile. “Not cool,” she angrily said. “The party’s started,” Twilight informed her. “Besides, while you were having your beauty sleep, Meg was here all alone with Discord.” “Huh? Here?” She looked back and forth between Meg and Twilight. “What did he want with you?” “It’s not important,” she decided to tell her—and everypony else. “He just wanted some attention… I think.” She wondered how would they react if they knew the entire conversation. Be deeply offended? Wonder what the big deal was? It would have to remain a mystery. “I’m sure that’s all it was,” Fluttershy said without reservation. “I meant it when I said I’ll attend one of your tea parties,” Meg said to her, “but there’s no rush, if you catch my drift.” Fluttershy gave her a gentle smile. “Whenever you’re ready,” she agreed. “We’ve been up here long enough,” Twilight declared. “Don’t want everypony to start wondering what’s going on.” With that, she jumped into the air and headed back to the ground. Fluttershy followed suit. “Hang on, Meg,” Rainbow Dash said, stopping her from leaving. “Help me lower this cloud to the ground.” “Uh, sure…” They hovered into position a dozen feet apart. “What do you have in mind?” “Pinkie’s idea, actually.” She signaled for them to start pushing down. “Put on a show for your family.” “That was thoughtful of her.” Pinkie Pie did know her parties. The cloud began its descent to the ground. “You should have woken me up, ya know.” Rainbow Dash gave her a stern look. “That’s why I was up here, ironically.” That failed to placate her. “Really, it wasn’t a big deal, and besides it wasn’t long before Twilight and Fluttershy were up here.” The top of the barn appeared beyond the cloud’s edge, causing them to slow their descent and lower their voices. “Besides, if he truly wants a private conversation with me, there’s no way to prevent it—short of staying out of this realm, anyway.” “Nnngh… I suppose,” she grimaced. “Still don’t like it.” And now that she really thought about it, Meg found it scary, too. She was at Discord’s complete mercy. All he had to do was snap his talons, and… well… anything. Sure, alicorns were scary powerful too, but at least they were… harmonious, for lack of a better word. Dash had been focusing her attention on the barn. “Okay, stop.” They both set down on the cloud, which was now about five feet off the ground. She said, in a low voice, “You take the lead. It’s your family, so it ought to be your show.” She offered a hoof and Meg bumped it. Meg walked over to the edge closest to the barn, as she further mulled over what just happened. Rainbow Dash did not really trust Discord. Not that she couldn’t see why, but it was equally apparent that Twilight did seem to trust him—enough, anyway. His presence at their ponification was evidence of that. Fluttershy… that went without saying. Well, like it or not, he’s part of the package deal. Whatever he may be, he’s not boring. She stopped just before the cloud’s edge. Taking a quick look back, she noticed Rainbow Dash was a few feet back, intending to stay out of sight until called for. Meg took a deep breath, crossed the last few feet, and looked down. Looking back up, out in front and center, was her extended family, waiting for something to happen. The Crusaders were also out front, standing next to Susie. Further back were the adult ponies, including Steve, all showing the least anticipation—well, not counting the bouncing Pinkie Pie. It’s not as if they’re about to see anything they haven’t seen a gazillion times. “Sorry that took so long,” Meg began. “There was, uh, a distraction earlier… but we’re ready to get started now!” Once I’ve figured out what to do. “Is Rainbow Dash up there?” asked Scootaloo. The pegasus in question joined Meg at the cloud’s edge. “Sure am!” she said, giving the filly a wink. Come on, Scootaloo, this show’s not for you, Meg thought with annoyance. Meg’s brother skeptically examined the cloud, as he drank from his mug of hard cider. “That’s an actual cloud?” “Sure is,” Meg confirmed. She bounced a few times off the cloud like a trampoline, willing moderate rain to fall right underneath her for a few seconds. “See? It rains just a like a real cloud.” Matt lifted his hand and moved it through the cloud. It was too thick for him to reach the hooves of the pegasi standing on it. “Why don’t you fall through?” “I don’t want to,” his sister replied. “Hitting the ground would hurt.” Rainbow Dash snickered. “You don’t want to,” he repeated in a monotone. “That’s all it takes.” “If you’re a pegasus… yes.” She spread her wings. “I’ll let myself fall through.” And just like that, she did, dropping like a rock, halting her fall just above the ground. Hovering, she drifted out from under the cloud and over to her brother. “Yes, it’s literally magic.” With some disappointment, she added, “I really hoped you’d get that by now.” “It’s… a lot to absorb. And magic is what prevents that cloud from dissipating this low, or keeps it in place?” “You got it.” She drifted over to Susie, who was clearly enjoying herself. “What do you think?” “It’s just like the cartoon!” she exclaimed. A question formed in her mind, causing her face to scrunch. “What’s it like to stand on a cloud?” “Well…” Meg struggled to find the words. “It doesn’t feel wet or even damp, nor does it feel slippery. It’s very soft, yet firm and springy. It kinda depends what you’re doing on it. When telling it to rain, it’s a lot like a trampoline, believe it or not. And a cloud makes the most wonderful bed you could sleep on.” Or so I’ve been told. “You can tell it to rain?” her niece said, suitably impressed. “Well, you don’t actually talk to it,” Meg said, “it’s not alive, but that’s sorta what I was doing when I made it rain briefly. It’s how pegasus weather magic works.” Her sister-in-law broke her silence to ask the next question. “How did you learn to do all this magic so quickly?” Meg looked up to a prismatic pegasus still standing on the cloud. “I had an awesome teacher,” she smiled. Rainbow Dash gave a proud smirk in return. “I’d like to see how a professional disposes of a cloud like this—if you have no further use for it,” Lori added. You’re sure doing a good job kissing up to her, Meg thought. “I guess we’re done with it,” Rainbow Dash mused. She went airborne and hovered to the side of the cloud, then gave it a good, solid buck. The cloud didn’t stand a chance, disintegrating as a shock wave rapidly traversed it, leaving nothing but humidity behind. A light but persistent breeze was already removing the humid air from the vicinity. Still hovering next to where the cloud once was, the weather pony boasted, “And that’s how it’s done!” Susie and Scootaloo applauded, while Lori continued to stare at where the cloud had been. “There really is no substitute for seeing it,” she said, shaking her head. “Didn’t matter I knew you could do that.” Pinkie Pie trotted over to them and addressed Susie. “Let’s go inside and get the party started! There’s cake and ice cream and muffins and cupcakes and apple pie and party hats—” Rainbow Dash stuck a hoof in her mouth. “They get the idea.” She waited a few seconds, just to be sure, before removing her hoof. Pinkie wouldn’t let it dampen her mood. “Follow me, Susie!” she said as she bounced her way to the barn. The others all began heading over to the barn as well, except Matt. “Meg, wait.” The orchid pegasus stopped, and while hovering turned around. “Yes?” she said, wondering what her brother wanted. “Can we talk… privately?” he contritely asked. Whatever it was, it seemed promising. “We can go into the orchards, I guess.” Meg began drifting towards the apple trees, slowly at first, until Matt was at her side, then she matched his walking speed. They continued in silence, until they had passed a half-dozen apple trees. Matt leaned against an apple tree. “First, I want to apologize. However I may have felt in the past about your infatuation with the cartoon, it’s impossible to deny—” he threw his hands up at the world around them “—this changes things.” Meg wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. It didn’t help she had to read his human body language with pony eyes. “I accept your apology,” she said in measured tones, “but I feel a ‘but’ coming…” He studied her silently for a few seconds. Probably wishing he didn’t have to decipher the finer points of pony body language. This really wasn’t the type of conversation to have while being different species. “It’s not just about you. It affects the rest of us too.” And he didn’t even know about the doll, or the FBI taking an interest in them. “Could you be more specific?” she asked, somewhat nervously. “What about our parents?” He stared into her eyes. “Should they expect their grandchildren to have hooves?” “I… we…” she stammered, diverting her eyes, “weren’t planning on having children for a few years, you know that.” “Assuming they will even let you continue to visit, what do you see yourself doing a year from now, five years, fifty years from now?” “Princess Celestia has granted us permanent visitation rights.” And offered her a job, not that she cared to mention that to him. That got her a raised eyebrow. “Curious, but it’s not my place to question how she runs her kingdom. I presume Twilight will be your personal chauffeur between our worlds for the foreseeable future?” “I…I guess.” Meg wasn’t sure she liked where this was going. “I’m sorry, I truly am, but I’m trying to be real here. This place,” he spread his arms wide, “is real, as you were all too happy to show me, and as a real place it doesn’t revolve around you.” Meg slowly returned her gaze to him. “It has to do with my cutie mark. They take that very seriously here.” “Yeah, Twilight did go overboard when you had your epiphany, didn’t she.” He took a drink from his mug. “They sure do make good cider here,” he conceded. “Try having a cutie mark appear on your butt and you’ll understand.” She could see the next question coming a million miles away. “No, I don’t have it as a human,” she preemptively said. “Not that it matters,” she muttered. “It’s the mark of my destiny regardless of my physical form.” “Just try to remember your life choices affect us too, okay? Until you figure out what to tell our parents,” he half-joked, “could you at least use the pony equivalent of The Pill?” He brought the mug back to his mouth. “The guest room Twilight provided us with had an anti-fertility charm.” He spat out a mouthful of cider. “You really are doing it… as ponies.” “Not that it’s any of your business,” she said defensively, “but why shouldn’t we?” He tried to come up with a good reason—even a mediocre reason—but couldn’t, his mouth soundless opening several times. “Fine, you’re right, never mind,” he conceded. “I’m just surprised Twilight would have such a charm in her possession. Doesn’t seem like she’d have need of one.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “She is an adult, you know; they all are, even if the cartoon doesn’t like portraying them as such.” “Bookworm, didn’t see the point of having friends?” “Hell, I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hooves. “The subject hasn’t come up and I’m not gonna bring it up—with any of them. But I do know that cartoon take liberties with the facts occasionally; she might never have been as antisocial as portrayed.” “At least you were spared the inconvenience of having to undress,” he sarcastically said. “Not this again…” she said, face-hoofing. “No, really, how do you deal with it? Don’t you, as a mare, notice Big Mac’s—” “Enough!” she hissed. “You could try being a pony yourself if you really wanted to know.” “It’s not on my bucket list,” he flatly pointed out. “Seriously. Being a different species broadens the mind. But, fine; you’ll just have to take my word for it: it’s different for ponies. Ponies don’t care. They don’t think about it—most of the time. That’s why they can run around in their birthday suits without causing civilization to implode.“ “But you’re really a human!” “My mind is running on a pegasus brain right now,” she said slowly and carefully. “You cannot comprehend how that alters my perceptions.” Matt considered the orchid pegasus hovering in front of him for a little too long. “The only thing left of your human self is your memory?” “Well… I… damn it!” she exclaimed, stomping a hoof in midair. “I dunno know how it works. Ask Twilight. All I know is that I still feel like I’m me. Yes, one brain was changed into another, but the transformation is so seamless, it doesn’t interrupt my thoughts in progress. I can’t even tell it’s happening as it happens! The transformation is always something that has happened, not is happening,” she said, resorting to air quotes at the end. “Calm down,” he said, holding out a upraised hand. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, if my eyes were closed I wouldn’t be able to tell if you were human or pony—well, apart from the flapping sound of your wings.” He waved his hand. “Let’s change the subject. How do you hover like that? And please say something more specific than ‘it’s magic.’” Meg agreed that was a nice, safe subject. “I’m ignoring gravity.” He didn’t expect such a simple, straightforward answer. “Okaaay… why do you need to constantly flap your wings, then? Can’t you just float in zero-G?” “I don’t make the rules,” she shrugged. “There are other aspects to pegasus flying magic that concern inertia and thrust. Rainbow Dash is teaching me how to do it, but for the theory behind it—the egghead stuff as she puts it—I have to go to Twilight.” “I’ve seen you hover in our world. Can you stand on a cloud?” “I haven’t tried it, but Rainbow Dash tells me that works too.” “Is there any magic that doesn’t work in our world?” “Oh, yes, plenty. It drives Twilight crazy trying to understand why. Steve’s helping with that, and she’s teaching him how to use unicorn magic.” Matt contemplated his empty cup. “I could use more cider,” he stated as he started back to the barn. “Don’t forget the food.” Her own stomach was beginning to complain. “I’m not sure why but the stuff grown here is really good.” “Are you sure that isn’t an artifact of having a pony tongue?” “Absolutely sure,” she assured him. “Any food edible by both humans and ponies tastes the same to me either way.” “Sounds convenient,” he observed. “What about food that isn’t?” “You wouldn’t believe how tasty daffodils are.” She wouldn’t mind having some right now. There was pony-only food being served, though pains have been taken to clearly identify it as such. Steve had been tasked with making sure of that. “Aren’t daffodils supposed to be toxic to equines?” “Not to magical candy-colored equines that can talk.” They approached the clearing. The sounds of a piñata being struck came from the barn. “Sure,” he sighed, “why not.” The late afternoon sun was casting long shadows. Twilight had put on her saddlebags and was ready to take Susie and her parents back to their realm. She patiently waited as Meg said her goodbyes. “We’ll be staying overnight,” she informed them. Matt gave his sister an odd look, but didn’t say anything. What does that mean? the alicorn wondered. She made a mental note to ask Meg about that later. Meg gave Susie a final hug, and the little girl hugged the pegasus in return. It left Twilight wondering what it was like to be hugged by one of these bipedal creatures, to be touched by those hands. Perhaps Susie could be persuaded to give her a hug once they’re back in the other realm. Somehow, Twilight doubted it would take much encouragement. “Twilight will lock up after you leave,” Steve said. “She needs to collect some data while she’s there anyway.” Susie reluctantly let go of the pony that was her aunt and joined her parents. She watched Twilight as the alicorn lit up her horn and swallowed a plaid pill. The four of them crossed over back to the home office. “Where’s Twilight?” asked Susie. You’re looking right at me. “I don’t know, hon. I guess she decided not to come here after all.” Lori took her hand and tried to guide her out of the office and to the front door. “I’m right here,” Twilight said with some annoyance, but they continued to ignore her and kept on walking. If they can’t see or hear me… Her heart missed a beat. This is bad. This is very very bad. She nervously looked up at the shelf where the Pinkie Pie doll resided. It wasn’t there. The doll was there when they all went to Equestria. The Derpy doll was still there. The front door opened. She started to trot over there, but then decided to just let them go. While she could have made herself visible, she would then have to offer an explanation. There was no time to waste. It couldn’t have gotten far in just a few hours, she told herself. Out of her saddlebags came the magic probe. It moved away from her and penetrated her magic containment bubble. Zero. The sensitivity is too low, that’s it. Her queasy stomach said she was fooling herself. Doing her best to ignore it, she upped the sensitivity to maximum. Back through the bubble it went. Zero. The doll was already too far away. With growing dread, she quickly scanned the office and other rooms for anything obviously out of place or missing. There wasn’t. Whoever took it knew what they were after. It wasn’t hard to guess who. She checked the front door, and saw that it was locked. She continued to stare at the doorknob. What am I going to tell Meg? Twilight released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and shook her head. I don’t have time for this. She invoked the return spell and returned to Equestria.