//------------------------------// // Giggle at the Ghost in the Machine, Part 3 // Story: The Iron Horse: Everything's Better With Robots! // by The Hat Man //------------------------------// Pinkie walked out the back door, a sorrowful look on her face as Turing Test followed her. She went into the alley and sat down on the grass, her back to the mechanical mare as she hung her head and let out a tense sigh. “I can’t… I just can’t…” “Pinkie Pie, are you all right?” Turing asked. “No,” she said quietly, her back still turned. “I just… I always wanted to make everypony laugh, ever since I was a filly and got my cutie mark.” She looked down at her cutie mark, her lower lip quivering as she did. “I always thought that I could put a smile on anypony’s face. Anypony. Until I met you.” She dug her hoof into the ground, slowly pushing up the dirt as she did so. “You can’t smile, so I thought I could at least make you laugh. Or help you learn to make somepony else laugh. But…” She heaved another sigh and slowly shook her head. “But I can’t. I just don’t know what to do.” Turing tilted her head to the side as she watched her. “I just can’t make you laugh, Rinny. And I’m sorry that I can’t help you.” Turing regarded her for a moment, her ears twitching squeakily. She said nothing, but sat in the grass a few meters in front of her. “Pinkie Pie,” she finally said, “you need not be sorry. I am appreciative of your efforts. Your ability to make others laugh is formidable, so it seems that your expertise will be of assistance. It may be that repeated exposure to humor will help me overcome my difficulties. Perhaps you would care to tell me another joke so that I may try again?” “Another joke?” Pinkie asked. She raised her head and blinked several times. She swallowed and nodded before slowly getting back up and turning towards her. She gave a weak smile. “M-maybe. Um, I don’t know what sort of joke to tell, though. Nothing else has worked, so…” She scrunched her eyes closed as she focused. “There’s gotta be something that even a robot would laugh at.” Her eyes lit up, a big smile on her face. “Ooh, ooh, I just came up with this: it’s a joke about robots!” “Curious. You may be the first to invent a joke about robots, Pinkie Pie. Please proceed.” “Okay, okay,” she said as she actually began giggling at her own joke. “Here goes: Why did the robot go back to school?” “I believe that…” She paused when she saw Pinkie tense up. “You do not wish for me to answer. Very well: I do not know.” Pinkie nodded. “Good!” she said, her smile keeping in place. “The robot went back to school because she’d gotten a little rusty!” She giggled and watched Turing to see if she would respond.  “Rusty.” Turing tapped her head. “This word normally means corrosion affecting metal. But in this case you are using it to mean a situation when one is out of practice, hence the need to go back to school.” She looked to Pinkie and saw she was slowly nodding. “Then this is another instance of two meanings at once. And yet it ignores that a robot such as myself would not forget things and thus have no need of--” “Rinny, Rinny, don’t worry about that!” she exclaimed, holding up her hooves. “You’re thinking about it too hard.” “One can think too hard?” She cocked her head. “How is that the case? Should not all avenues of possibility be explored? How can I know when to cease considering possibilities? How can organics know to limit their thinking? Or perhaps it is merely that organics are limited in their thinking due to the feebleness of their minds.” “Hey!” Pinkie stiffened, a dark scowl on her face. “We’re not feeble-minded! That’s a mean thing to say!” “I merely spoke the truth.” She cocked her head. “Perhaps that is my problem. Humor may be a feedback loop that organics experience in response to illogical conditions.” “Rinnyyy!” Pinkie groaned. “Things are funny when you expect one thing and get another. When I told you those jokes, they were funny because they surprise you!” She took a breath and then smiled calmly. “They’re silly, and that’s why ponies laugh!” “Silly?” She paused, her eyes momentarily shrinking. “Adjective. Defined as ‘having or showing a lack of common sense or judgment; absurd and foolish.’ So you are saying that humor involves silliness?” Pinkie looked up, her lips parting slightly. “Yeah,” she breathed. Her eyes opened hopefully. “It’s funny because it isn’t what somepony would normally expect or say or do! That’s what silliness is!” She began to smile again. “Maybe you’re getting it, Rinny!” “Something absurd or foolish.” She paused. “This requires analysis. May I tell one of the jokes I have learned? I will preserve the original wording.” “Yes! Please try your best, Rinny!” Pinkie began bouncing eagerly. “I know you can do it!” “Very well. Initiating joke: ‘I went to a restaurant with a sign that said "Breakfast served at any time!" so I ordered oatmeal in the Paleopony Period.’” Pinkie giggled. “I remember that joke. That’s a gem!” “No, it is a joke.” Pinkie’s giggling intensified. “There you go, Rinny! You did it!” She launched herself at Turing and hugged her. But then she realized Turing was not hugging her back. In fact, her ears were twitching and nothing more. She backed away, her smile slowly fading. “Rinny? What’s wrong?” “That joke… I believe I understand it.” “You do? That’s great!” Turing lowered her head. “I believe I have detected the source of your amusement: the speaker in the joke mistakenly thought that the restaurant meant any time in history, when in fact it only meant at any time of day.” “Yes!” Pinkie said, a wide toothy grin on her face. She began nodding eagerly. “You got it! You really got it!” “And just now you laughed at my correction. You laughed at my misunderstanding of your meaning. However, upon analysis, I now realize that you meant it was a ‘gem’ in the idiomatic sense, that it was something of high quality.” “Y-yeah. You know, Rinny, when you explain the joke, it takes a lot of the fun out of it,” Pinkie sighed. Still, she kept her smile. “At least you got it.” “Metaphor. Idiom. Hyperbole. I believe I am beginning to understand the contradictory nature of language and in turn of the mechanics of humor. And yet,” she paused and looked down at her hooves, “I am not laughing. And I am not amused. I have finally managed to understand some jokes, and yet they are not funny to me.” “Welll, that’s too bad,” Pinkie said, shrugging it off. She began to turn back to the bakery, ready to get back to work. “But it’s a start! Maybe we can try some more and--” “No. No more jokes.” Pinkie froze and raised an eyebrow. She turned and saw that Turing was staring down at the ground now. “Rinny?” she asked uneasily. “What’s wrong?” “Humor. I understand it. It is illogical. It is nonsense. It has no meaning.” “Rinny!” Pinkie gasped, rushing over to her. “Humor does so have meaning! Laughter is important!” “Is nonsense important to organics? When others misunderstand, when I misunderstand, is it part of your nature to delight in their ignorance?” Pinkie was about to reach for her, but then she pulled her hoof back and watched her uneasily, her eyes wide. She shivered. Something had shifted. “Rinny?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing is wrong with me. The problem lies with you.” She looked directly at Pinkie, her face close to hers. “This nonsense and cruelty is what you wanted to teach me? I do not desire this.” “Rinny…” Pinkie Pie took several steps back, her blue eyes glued to Turing and her ears laid back. “You’re scaring me.” “Scaring you?” She took a step toward Pinkie. Her eyes were darting around up and down the alley. “I am merely stating my observations. Why is humor so important to you? What flaws in your thinking allow you to say one thing and mean another? What is the purpose in delighting in flawed thinking and uncaring behavior? Tell me. Tell me why this frightens you.” “Rinny, stop!” Pinkie shouted. Turing froze in midstep. She paused and backed away. “I see. I apologize, Pinkie Pie. I did not wish to cause you alarm. However, I believe this time spent together has been unproductive.” She turned away and began to trot down the alley. “Goodbye, Pinkie Pie. It seems we cannot become friends.” Pinkie blinked several times as that last sentence sank in. “Rinny, no, we can still--” But Turing didn’t stop. Instead, she broke into a gallop and was out of sight in less than a second. “Rinny,” Pinkie breathed. She sat in the grass and lowered her head. Staring at the grass and earth in the alley, she traced a frowny face with her hoof into the dirt. “What do I do now?” With no answer to her question, she stood, taking a deep breath to steady herself, and walked back into the bakery. She saw that a tray of cupcakes was almost done and so she trudged over to ready the next tray, her head and tail drooping as she walked. “Pinkie?” came a voice. Mrs. Cake poked her head into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. “There’s… oh my, are you all right?” Then she looked around the kitchen. “Wait, where’s Turing Test?” “She’s… we had a fight.” She sighed, plopping herself on the floor as she tried to blink back tears. “I… I think I made her mad.” “Oh. Well, I’m sorry about that, but I have something that might cheer you up.” She offered her a kind smile as she went over and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “There’s a visitor here to see you!” “A visitor?” she raised her head slightly. “I’m not sure that…” She trailed off as she looked to the doorway and a very familiar face came into view. “Hello, Pinkie.” Maud Pie stood in the doorway, her face totally deadpan. She blinked and tilted her head ever so slightly. “Is it a bad time?” “Maud! Maud Maud Maud!” She bounded over and hugged her sister tightly. “Nice to see you too, Pinkie,” Maud said, patting Pinkie on the back. *** Several minutes later, the two sisters were in Pinkie’s room. After seeing how shaken Pinkie was, Mrs. Cake had given her the rest of the day off. “I don’t know how things went so wrong, Maud!” Pinkie exclaimed. She was lying on her bed face down, her voice muffled by the bed covers and her legs folded under her. “Hmm.” Maud murmured. “I just wanted to make her laugh! And to teach her how great it is to laugh!” She raised her head slightly, but only to look up at her sister through tired, bloodshot eyes. “And all I did was make her angry.” Maud pat her on the head gently. “It happens.” “That’s just it: it doesn’t happen!” She sat up, throwing her hooves in the air. “Rinny’s a robot! Until today, I didn’t think she could even get angry!” “Ah.” Maud paused for a moment, nodding quietly, her expression blank as always. Finally, she looked back to Pinkie. “What’s a robot?” There was the sound of footsteps and a knock at the door to Pinkie’s room. Mrs. Cake poked her head in. “Pinkie, I don’t want to bother you, but I thought maybe you might feel better with a little snack.” She wore a kind smile. “I could whip something up for you!” Pinkie gave a slight grin in return. “That’s really nice, Mrs. Cake, but I don’t want to bother you.” “Oh, it’s no trouble, Pinkie,” Mrs. Cake replied, waving a hoof dismissively. “Wellll,” Pinkie said, tapping her chin, “in that case I could go for a cupcake with pink frosting. And a cheese danish. And a slice of angel food cake. And one of devil’s food. Ooh, and a few chocolate chip cookies, maybe one with nuts, and a peanut butter cookie in there wouldn’t hurt, along with a milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top!” She smiled brightly. Mrs. Cake’s eye twitched. “That’s… sure thing, dear, if that makes you feel better.” She laughed weakly, but kept her smile. “Ooh, do you want anything too, Maud?” Pinkie asked, turning to her sister. Mrs. Cake stiffened at the realization that Pinkie had not intended that order for the both of them to share. “Uh, yes, what can I get you, Maud?” Maud stared back at her. “Do you have water at this bakery?” Mrs. Cake blinked. “Yes. Yes, we do.” “I’ll have that.” “Sure... thing. Um, any particular way you’d like that water?” Maud raised an eyebrow. “Wet.” “Well, yes indeedy, I think we can do that!” she turned to go, chuckling nervously. “Oh, also, can I get something for my pet? He’s a little hungry after the train ride.” “Pet?” Mrs. Cake asked, turning back into the room, her eyebrow raised. Maud took a small pebble from her pocket. “His name is Boulder.” Mrs. Cake looked to Pinkie to see if she was laughing, thinking this was some kind of prank. Pinkie was only smiling expectantly. “And, um, what should I get for Boulder?” “A layer cake.” Mrs. Cake nearly lost her balance. “A layer cake?!” “Mm hmm.” She held out the tiny rock further. “Especially if you have one with strawberries. He likes strawberries.” “Coming… coming right up, dearies,” Mrs. Cake said, backing out of the room. “Maauud, I thought you were gonna put Boulder on a diet!” Pinkie said, elbowing her sister with a mischievous smile and a sideways glance. “I was.” She pet her rock gently. “But I can’t say no to that face.” She looked back at Pinkie. “So what’s a robot?” “Oh, right! Well, it started when Applejack found this pony, but it wasn’t a normal pony, because it was a machine, see? Like a clock or a wind up toy!” Maud blinked. “Like that one Dad sat on?” “Yes, exactly!” Pinkie said, nodding emphatically. “Rinny’s a super giant Dad-butt-proof version of that! But she can talk and move and all sorts of stuff! Twilight wants her to learn friendship!” She reached into her mane and pulled out a piece of paper, giving it to Maud. “It’s all right here in this brochure I made.” “Hm.” Maud opened it, skimming the contents. “I like the font.” “Thanks! I think it explains the little details pretty well.” Maud finished skimming it and returned it to Pinkie. “So, you’re trying to be friends with her. That’s nice.” “Yeah, Rinny’s super strong and fast and she’s also really nice to every…pony…” Pinkie stopped, remembering her situation. She frowned and her eyes again began to fill with tears. “And no matter what I do, I keep messing things up with her. I just wanted to teach her how to laugh and teach her humor, but all I did was lose a possible new friend!” Maud gave her a hanky. She took it and blew into it. “Thanks.” She let out a heavy sigh and rolled onto her back, the momentum jostling Maud slightly on the bed. “I just don’t know, Maud. Sure, not everypony has a good sense of humor, but Rinny said jokes and humor were all about nonsense or making fun of other ponies! She said she never wanted to learn it and that normal ponies were awful for liking it!” Maud blinked. “Hm.” “I’ve told jokes before that other ponies didn’t think were all that funny, but Rinny took forever just to get the idea of a joke, and when she did, she thought it was mean to laugh at all!” She buried her face in her hooves. “I ruined everything! I ju-just wanted to t-teach her and I r-ru-ruined humor for her foreve~er!” she wailed. Maud pulled her off the bed and into a tight hug. “It’s okay,” she said in her usual calm way. Pinkie relaxed and let Maud hold her. “You know, Pinkie, some ponies think I’m not very funny either.” Pinkie shot back, gasping as she stared Maud in the face. “You?! No way!” Maud nodded. “It’s hard to believe, I know.” She blinked slowly. “But it’s true.” “Well, that’s just silly! You’ve got a great sense of humor!” “But not like yours.” She smiled slightly. “Nopony has a sense of humor like yours.” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Well duh! Everypony has a different sense of humor!” “Everypony?” “Yes, every--” She froze and narrowed her eyes. “I get it. You’re saying Rinny might have a sense of humor after all. It just isn’t like mine.” Maud gave a short nod. “Your jokes are great, Pinkie. But maybe your robot friend just doesn’t understand them the way you do.” “Yeah… and maybe that’s why she got angry.” She nodded to herself, then looked up with determination. “Maud, it’s my duty to teach Rinny that humor is not terrible and help her become happy again!” “I think I can stay a while,” Maud said. “Maybe I can help too.” Just then Mrs. Cake returned with a veritable mountain of food balanced uneasily on her back and platters wobbling on her front hooves. “Uh, here’s your ‘snack,’ girls!” Maud held Boulder out, balancing him on her hoof. “Oh, and, uh, you too, Boulder,” Mrs. Cake added quickly. *** Turing Test was walking down the streets of Ponyville alone. She attracted a few stares and even ponies who were occupied in their business or conversations that day raised their heads. The constant whirr of her servos as she walked was audible over everypony’s chatter and her heavy hoofsteps fell noisily even on the earthen road. She considered going back to Twilight’s Castle, but there was nopony there: Spike had traveled to Canterlot with Twilight. She’d read in books that ponies sometimes went for walks to clear their heads, so she decided to see if such a technique would work on a robot. Anger. I experienced anger. She slowed her pace. This was not the emotion I desired to experience. I do not like this feeling. Something has gone wrong. It must be in response to this situation. I must determine: is the flaw with Pinkie Pie or organic ponies in general, or is this flaw my own? She glanced around at all the other ponies staring at her as she walked. Humor may provide a solution, but I seem to be incapable of enjoying humor. Humor is illogical. It is cruel. Therefore, anypony who expresses it must also be cruel and illogical. Since all organic ponies seem capable of humor, then all organic ponies are cruel and illogical. This may explain why most organic ponies still regard me with fear or mistrust more often than with positivity: organics are naturally hostile and unreasonable creatures. She felt it then: her anger grew more intense. The intolerability of it, the impossibility of the situation, and the unfeasibility of her mission to make friends. If ponies were indeed cruel, then making friends was neither possible nor desirable, and yet it was her directive. Perhaps my directive is worthless. Making friends with organics is of no value. She stopped in her tracks and evaluated that. However, Twilight Sparkle has expressed humor. Gadget and Rainbow Dash have as well. Upon analysis, all my friends have demonstrated humor. If my assessment is correct, then they are cruel and illogical as well. She replayed some of her memories and considered this. Her ears twitched and her eyes contracted. That is incorrect. Twilight Sparkle is not cruel. My other friends are not cruel either. Though at times they seem to be illogical, they demonstrate great wisdom and kindness to me. Their friendships are to be valued. If they are kind, then humor must not be cruel. I have erred. The flaw is not in organics or their humor. It is in my thinking. Turing glanced to her side and saw a boutique nearby. She saw by its coxcomb-shaped roof and silhouetted image of a laughing pony on the sign that it was the joke shop. She made her way to the large shop window and spied through it. Rubber chickens, cans of peanut brittle containing spring-loaded snakes, whoopie cushions, and other similar materials were laid out for all to see. Then she looked up and saw an image in the glass staring back at her. She tilted her head and the pony in the glass did the same, the light reflecting off the metal faceplate as unblinking, glowing violet eyes followed her. My own reflection. It is not as clear as that of my mirror. It still serves its purpose: I am able to compare myself to organic ponies. She raised a brass hoof, gently placing it against the glass as her reflection did the same. I am different. I am unlike organics. I see them laugh and wish to join, to know that feeling. And yet I am unable to do so. Perhaps Pinkie was correct in her original summation: perhaps, as a robot, I do not have a sense of humor. Rather than accept that conclusion, I became angry. I frightened Pinkie Pie and then denied her as a friend. She wished to befriend me, but now I have alienated her. Then she felt her anger subside and it was replaced by a familiar feeling: sadness. My creators were too shortsighted to give me the things I needed to truly integrate with ponies. My face which cannot smile, my eyes which cannot blink, and a mind that cannot take delight in the harmless silliness of my friends. I am not equipped to be a good friend. I cannot even handle the few emotions I manage to experience. I am flawed. “Turing Test?” She lifted her head, recognizing the voice instantly. She turned around. “Hello Scootaloo. Are you well?” Scootaloo had pulled up right behind her. For some reason, Turing’s auditory sensors had failed to detect the low buzz of her wings as she propelled her scooter forward. She removed her blue helmet and placed it on the handlebars of the scooter before getting off and walking up to her. “I’m fine, thanks,” Scootaloo said, trotting closer to her. “What are you doing staring at that window? Is there something you want to buy?” Turing hesitated. “No. I am examining my reflection.” “What, did you forget what you looked like?” Scootaloo asked, chuckling at her own joke. “No. In fact, I have a very large amount of data stored with regard to my own appearance.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Never mind that. What I really mean is what are you doing here alone? And why are you looking at the reflection?” “I am contemplating how I differ from other ponies. My reaction to these differences has been negative.” She looked down at her hoof. “Today has been difficult. When confronted with my inadequacies, I experienced anger. The emotion was strange to me, and it has had a deleterious effect on my actions. I was attempting to befriend Pinkie Pie, but instead the emotion caused me to be cruel. Making friends is my directive, and yet the emotion overcame my rationality and caused me to say unkind things that alienated her.” Scootaloo frowned at that, but then offered a slight grin. “Well, if you’re trying to be more like regular ponies, then I guess getting too mad to think straight counts.” “That was not something I wished to emulate.” She sat and crouched lower to look at Scootaloo on her own eye level. “Today, I spent time with Pinkie Pie attempting to learn humor. It seems that I have failed. I find it difficult to understand jokes, and even when I do understand, I do not find them funny. As a robot, I may not have any sense of humor. I know I am incapable of smiling, but it seems I am also incapable of laughing or perhaps of being amused.” “So… wait, is that why you were staring at your reflection?” “In part.” She stood again and looked back to her reflection. “Previously, I regarded my physical and mental differences as mere hindrances to socialization. They were obstacles to fulfilling my directive to make friends. However, I seem to have developed an increasingly negative personal reaction.” Scootaloo tilted her head. “Wait, what?” “Clarifying: I am saying that before, these differences had no emotional impact. That has changed. Now, they bother me. They sadden me. They anger me. I do not know what to do. These emotions are becoming stronger and perhaps more frequent. Gadget hypothesized that this would be the case. And yet I cannot resolve them. If I cannot be like organic ponies, then I will never be able to socialize properly. I will never be capable of being a good friend.” Scootaloo came up beside her and stood on hind legs, resting her forelegs on the shop window sill. She looked at her own reflection and sighed. But then she smiled. “You’re wrong, Turing. I guess even a smart robot like you can’t figure everything out.” Turing looked down at her. The filly met her eyes and offered a warm smile. “I do not understand. In what way am I in error?” She looked up and down the street and relaxed when she saw that nopony was looking her way. “Let me show you something.” She backed up several steps and sighed. With resignation, she lowered her head and, wearing a strained expression, began to flap her wings. The rapid fluttering made them a blur and they created a light buzzing sound as they cut through the air, but in spite of the obvious effort and tremendous speed of the little wings, Scootaloo barely lifted off the ground. She hovered for a few seconds before returning to the earth. “You did not achieve sufficient lift.” She cocked her head, puzzled. “Are you indicating that you cannot fly?” Scootaloo nodded. “It’s not something I like to talk about.” “Is flightlessness abnormal for pegasi your age?” She made a face, but nodded again. “Yeah. Almost all pegasi my age can fly. But not me.” “Then you are indicating that you are like me.” She put her hoof out and rested it on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “We are both flawed.” “No!” Scootaloo shouted abruptly, moving back and shoving away Turing’s outstretched hoof. “That’s not my point! I’m ‘different,’ but that doesn’t mean I’m ‘flawed!’ And neither are you!” Turing said nothing, but only stared down at her, ears twitching as she processed what Scootaloo had said. “Listen, Turing, I’ll be honest: not being able to fly and not having my cutie mark yet… it stinks. It really feels awful. If the world was fair, I’d be able to fly and never have to feel bad about being a blank flank.” She heaved a sigh. “But I was born this way and not everypony figures out their cutie mark at the same time. Life just isn’t fair.” “I see. Then you mean we must accept the deficiencies we have and accept that nothing can be done.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not it either.” She went over to her scooter. “Sure, I can’t fly, but I still get around!” She pat the scooter as if it were a trusty pet and smiled up at Turing. “And look at you! You’re super strong, you’re almost as fast as Rainbow Dash, and you can do things all three different types of ponies can do! Only the Princesses can do that!” Turing tilted her head. “Those abilities are useful. But they will not help me make friends like having a sense of humor or normal facial expressions can.” “Turing, if you’re so bad at making friends,” Scootaloo said, raising an eye as she leaned on the handlebars of her scooter, “then how come you have enough friends to throw you a Bot Mitzvah party? Not being able to laugh or smile hasn’t stopped you from becoming friends with other ponies, has it?” Turing rubbed her chin, oblivious to the way Scootaloo grit her teeth and winced at the harsh scraping sound it made. “It has not. I believe I understand now: you are saying that I should compensate for my disabilities by focusing on my strengths.” “That, plus who knows? Maybe someday you will be able to do all the things you want.” She looked back at her wings hopefully. “Maybe someday my wings will grow and I’ll be able to fly too. I’m not going to give up, but in the meantime, I’ll remember something a great pony told me once. She said ‘Maybe you’ll fly someday, or maybe you won’t. You’re all kinds of awesome anyway.’ And you know what? She was right.” She smiled proudly, raising her head high. “I am awesome.” Turing slowly nodded. “I believe I understand now. Then… am I also awesome?” “I sure think so!” She went over and stuck out her hoof. Turing looked at it a moment, then recognizing the gesture, tapped her own hoof to it. “I believe you have given me good advice. You are very wise, Scootaloo.” Scootaloo blushed, looking down and away. “Nah, I’m… I’m just passing on some good advice to a friend.” Turing’s eyes contracted. “Then perhaps this day was not completely unproductive. I am glad to have your friendship Scootaloo.” She paused. “I may still be able to reverse some of the damage that has been done. Will you accompany me to Sugarcube Corner? I may need somepony to vouch on my behalf. I am sorry to say I left Pinkie Pie with a negative impression.” “Sure thing! Follow me!” she said, getting on her scooter. *** Twilight made her way through the cavernous hallway of Canterlot Castle, her hooves silently falling on the red carpet and the bright light shining through the tall windows on her left. She had managed to get herself calm and collected before making her way to Canterlot, but her heart was beginning to beat more rapidly as she approached the open arch-shaped doorway that led to the meeting room. Through the doorway, she could already see Princess Celestia sitting at the pearl-white polished stone table. She smiled as she entered and Celestia smiled back. Twilight relaxed as she sat down on a cushion, facing Celestia as she had many times before. It’s just like always. This is Princess Celestia. There’s no need to be nervous. The doors slammed behind her, startling her out of her own thoughts as she clutched at her chest. Celestia raised an eyebrow at her curiously, but Twilight just chuckled and shook her head. “You’re a little jumpy today, Twilight,” Celestia said. She smiled. “Since you offered me tea when I came to visit, I had some prepared for you as well.” Twilight noticed the cup of tea for the first time, the tip of the cup lined with gold and the contents dark and still steaming hot. She inhaled and smiled at the aroma. “Ceylon,” Celestia said, levitating her own cup to likewise enjoy the scent. She closed her eyes and smiled. “A favorite of mine, actually. They grow it in the mountains of Sri Llama.” Twilight sipped the cup and set it down, relaxing a bit more. “It’s delicious, Princess Celestia. Thank you.” “Good. I thought you might be tense for this meeting. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” She sighed. “In truth, I haven’t been looking forward to this meeting either. But we are both Princesses and we must do our duties to Equestria in this situation. Can we both agree on that?” Twilight nodded, her face calm but resolute. “Of course,” she said, setting her teacup down and sitting up straight. “I’ll do everything I can for the ponies of Equestria.” Celestia set her own cup down and levitated some papers from a nearby desk onto the table. Twilight followed them with her eyes as Celestia laid them down. “My letter,” Twilight said. “Yes. I have to admit, while I appreciate the honesty and forthcoming nature of it, this letter seems a little…” she paused, putting a hoof to her chin, looking up at the ceiling. “...candid. Almost confrontational.” Twilight leaned forward, holding up her hooves defensively. “Oh, no, Princess, that’s not what I meant by it.” “Twilight, you are a wonderfully kind mare and have always been respectful to me and all other ponies you’ve known for as long as I’ve known you,” she said, smiling gently. The smile faltered a bit as she looked over to the letter. “However, this is rather blunt: ‘I have decided that I will keep Turing Test with me. She is my friend and I will not allow anypony else to take her. As the Princess of Friendship, that is my decision and I do not think anypony can order me to give her up, including you.’” Twilight tried hard not to gulp, but her eyes darted slightly as Celestia turned from the letter to look down at her. Celestia’s face was calm, her expression stony, but there was just a hint of a raised eyebrow as well. “I don’t know, Princess Twilight, that seems just a little confrontational to me.” She smiled slightly, and Twilight wasn’t sure if Celestia was genuinely calm or just doing an excellent job of appearing that way. “Would you care to explain a little more?” Celestia asked. “Oh!” Twilight exclaimed, sitting up stiffly again. “Well, I, I j-just meant that…” She shook her head, placed her foreleg on her chest as she took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as she extended her arm, using Cadance’s old calming technique. She was royalty now, and she reminded herself that there was no need to be timid. “Turing Test has shown remarkable progress, Princess Celestia. She’s had emotions and she’s befriended me and several ponies. She’s still learning and she’s still very awkward, but I believe that this could be a sign that even artificial creatures can make friends. My original idea was to find out if a machine could be friends and that’s what she’s doing and getting better at every day. “Since this is allowing me to learn more about friendship and spread it to beings we never dreamed were possible earlier in our history, I think this is well within the bounds of my duties and responsibilities as Princess of Friendship. In order for this to continue, Turing Test must not be taken away. She must be allowed to continue learning in Ponyville, just as I did.” Celestia smiled. “Very well said, Twilight.” “Then,” Twilight began, her eyes lighting up, “you agree with me!” “I… did not say that,” Celestia said. She turned away and looked out the large window of the meeting room, seeing the sun, her sun, slowly travel across the sky. “Indeed, there may be more going on here than you realize.” “I see.” Twilight grew quiet and looked down at her tea. “You still think Turing is dangerous.” “Based on your report, I actually am less worried about the automaton now,” Celestia said, smiling slightly. “It seems it might once have posed a threat, but now it is firmly under your control, thankfully.” She let out a long sigh before turning back to her. “That relieves me, Twilight. In truth, I hadn’t been sleeping well lately and I worried for your safety.” Twilight swallowed, deciding not to mention that she had also recently had the same problem and for the same reason. “This automaton, Turing Test, is no longer my primary worry. Instead, I’m worried about the ponies who built it. One of them was spying on you and clearly was fine with it staying with you, and still is. That concerns me greatly.” “You mean Fine Print,” Twilight said. She nodded. “I see. You think he and the ponies who built her still have a purpose for her.” “Yes. And we do not know who this Fine Print is or where he has gone. But I have no doubt that he is hiding and being sheltered with the others who built the automaton. They could be lying in wait for a long time or they could make a move tomorrow. It worries me.” Twilight shuddered. And then she remembered that Turing Test was with Pinkie Pie, and the two of them might be totally unaware of any potential danger. She shifted uncomfortably on her cushion and her eyes glanced out the window. She spied Ponyville in the distance and her mind began to imagine the possibilities. “I see you understand what I’m talking about.” She frowned, looking at Twilight sympathetically. “I do.” She swallowed. “But since we’re discussing the problem, then maybe we should speak plainly, Princess.” She looked up at Celestia, her features emotionless. “Please be honest: why do you hate Turing?” Celestia’s eyes went wide and she reeled back. “Hate her? Why, Twilight, I don’t hate her! I have no feelings about her at all!” Twilight’s expression did not change. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Princess Celestia, but I think there must be more to this than just fear of some conspiracy.” She softened slightly, her eyes opening a bit more as she frowned. “Normally I know I can count on your care and support, but ever since I told you what was happening, you’ve been… um, less supportive.” Celestia opened her mouth, about to protest, but then she stopped and let it drop. She smiled and even laughed slightly. “I suppose you’re right, Twilight. You deserve to know my thoughts and feelings on this matter completely.” She took a sip of her tea. As she lowered the cup, she stared into it, holding it there for several moments as a faraway gaze came to her. Twilight waited for an answer, but didn’t dare speak. Celestia’s frown deepened. She looks so tired, Twilight said to herself. “Twilight, when I had to banish my own sister, I often thought about how I would ever go on without her. You know how grateful I am to you for what you and your friends have done. Bringing her back to me was truly the most wonderful thing anypony has ever done for me. However, I had to wait a thousand years to see that happen. Do you want to know what kept me going throughout all the years between?” Twilight smiled and nodded. “Of course.” “It was all the ponies of Equestria.” She smiled, raising her head and staring out the window. “For a long time, I despaired of finding joy again, and yet I did. Seeing the ponies of Equestria go about their lives, their works, and seeing them pursue their dreams made me realize that I had a role to fill as the lone ruler of Equestria. Though Starswirl predicted that Luna would return in a thousand years, I had to ensure that the world she came back to would be a peaceful one, filled with ponies whose lives were happy. I came down off my pedestal and became less distant with my subjects.” Twilight drew in a breath. Celestia’s gaze became even more distant and her voice had the faintest crack in it. Celestia closed her eyes. “I have seen generations of ponies pass before me. And while it does sadden me, I feel privileged to have been witness to their lives and to have presided over a nation that allowed them to become whoever they wished. All lives… each life is precious. That gave me peace as I waited for Luna’s return.” Twilight nodded and gave her a smile. “I understand. Princess Celestia, Equestria is lucky to have you.” Her smile faltered. “But what does that have to do with Turing?” Celestia sighed, her smile melting away. “As I said, each life is precious. But now some group of inventors has made an automaton that can do almost everything a normal pony can do. And perhaps even do it better. They were able to manufacture one, so why not more? Why not ten? Why not a hundred?” She stood and stepped toward Twilight. “Why not a whole race of them? Stronger, smarter, and potentially without emotions - or morals - to do their bidding. Somepony out there is creating artificial ponies, and when you can just build a life out of metal and wires--” She paused, putting her hoof to her chest and letting her breath out evenly. “Celestia?” Twilight asked quietly, looking at her sideways. “Are you all right?” She smiled reassuringly. “Yes. I’m sorry, I just find the thought disturbing. When you can just build an artificial pony in a factory, what does that mean for a real, living pony? To me, it seems they’ve made that life redundant. Turing may not be at fault, but she is clearly at the center of this conspiracy and I fear what will happen if the ponies who built her succeed in their mission. She might be the first step toward a very frightening future. I do not wish to see that future unfold, especially when it is being engineered by those who would call the Princess of Friendship their enemy.” Twilight looked down, hugging herself at that. “I see. It isn’t that you hate Turing. It’s that you hate what she represents. What she might be a part of.” “I know this pains you, Twilight,” Celestia said. She came completely around the table and sat next to her student, drawing one massive white wing around her and pulling her in close. “I cannot fathom how you can befriend a machine, but I trust you when you say it is true. And I do not want to ask you to give up a friend of yours.” She looked down at her and their eyes met. “But the danger may be more severe than you know. Until we know more, I would like to ask you, would you please consider relocating Turing to Canterlot?” “C-Canterlot?” Twilight cried, standing up and backing out of Celestia’s wing’s embrace. She stared back, wide eyed. “You still want to take her away?” “Twilight, please, calm down,” Celestia said, standing. “Listen: you have convinced me that she is no threat and even that she may be more deserving of your care than I thought. I assure you, she would not be harmed or destroyed or even deactivated. You could visit as much as you liked and she would be shown every kindness. We could place her into protection with the Royal Guard. As it is, even she might not be safe from these ponies.” “Safe?” Twilight blinked. “But… the ponies who built her wouldn’t hurt her!” “No, but they may not care anything for the friendship you’ve built.” Celestia swallowed, but steeled herself. “They might simply delete everything you’ve taught her. The memories of you and her life in Ponyville would be gone.” Twilight gawked at that. “Turing… no, they… why would they…” “I am not certain that such a thing would happen.” She narrowed her gaze. “But I doubt they would let her stay your ally. So, for your sake, for your friends’ sake, for the nation’s sake, and even just for her sake, Twilight: please let us protect her.” Twilight felt lightheaded. She swayed slightly and felt short of breath. She sat and Celestia came to her side, but she held out a hoof. “I’m all right,” she gasped. “It’s… I see. Thank you for explaining it to me.” Celestia nodded. “You deserve to know the full truth and the whole implication of this situation, Twilight. So then,” she said, staring at her intently, “what is your decision?” Twilight closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Gradually it became regular and even, and she felt her heartbeat slow to normal. Once she had control over herself, she got to her hooves and raised her head. She opened her eyes and smiled up at Celestia. And then, Twilight Sparkle said: “No.” To be continued...