Joseph reviewed the translations around him one at a time. He had read over each thousands of times, both the originals and the eventual descriptions. Even now that he knew the simple code the cult had used, he still shivered at the patterns the letters elicited when written in runes. There was something special about runes, something the books about it described as almost sacred. Runes gave the whole world new instructions. To use them to tear the tapestry apart instead of making it stronger disgusted him.
H-tul-q-kar-ydk-qh-bvlt-tul-p-mak-kar-xb-tu-kar-vp-tul-pcz-kum-jq-kar-nml-pw-tul-mwfg-x-kum-n-kum-tul-dbbqf-lv-tul-x-mak-kum-min-hpfl-min-mes-gmyh-p-tul-vri-hh-min
Triumph in philadelphia, Shadowspeaker directs us to gather in Alexandria. Make haste.
Kum-b-kb-tul-zgzyz-hkm-xqqhqpqr-k-min-pq-yqwqz-hkmmq-drvy-vri-mes-tul-dbbqf-wp-tul-f-kh-tul-tul-k-rh-kum-ndcb-bbqw-tul-tul-tul-dy-mes
My children, the deceived have known these ponies. Gather that we may destroy their mark.
Kar-kar-t-nt-kar-w-bb-tul-bn-bbqm-vmy-min-w-kar-t-vq-p-kar-qhp-mak-g-mes-min-fx-hk-min-n-wbr-vri-nt-mak-b-min-lq-p-kar-qhp-mak-g-vri-cxz-vri-m-kum-tul-jhv-nd-min-hz-m-tul-tul-kb-mes
All that think they see will be blinded. All that know they are blinded will be given truer sight.
Of course, nothing in the messages they had intercepted as radio codes was nearly as disturbing as what they had found written in the house. Joseph hadn’t been able to get himself into the basement, and neither had any of the former members of the cult. Instead, they had Taylor send in a drone and photograph everything. After that came something they could all enjoy: a bonfire.
The gasoline was all bad then, and the early December air practically burned his skin through his fur if he walked outside without heavy clothing. For being rotten, the gas had still burned pretty good. Joe had even imagined to himself he heard screams as the basement burned, along with all its profane runes.
They had salvaged the books, despite the objections of Sight and the other former cult-members. They gave every volume to the HPI, the only people on Earth who couldn’t attempt the magic within. If fiction was any guide, there might be something evil in those pages. If the CPNFG could kill Odium, they figured it could probably kill whatever awfulness had been there. Since their human friends kept calling, Joe had assumed it worked.
Even the upstairs of the house had been written in code, though there was no magic in it. He had read the universal list of members, organized by rank and assignment, and shuddered when he saw not even half were accounted for in Alexandria. Most disturbing of all was the matter of Ryan’s equal, the only name as high up the pyramid. Who was Shadowspeaker? Beneath him were nearly a dozen ponies, all with Equestrian names.
What had the ponies of Odium’s cult been able to tell them? Only that Night Speaker had been the only one to communicate with this pony of a strangely similar name, and Odium had kept information about their mission to the ponies on it. Only one word was written of it on the board, in the writing Joseph had come to recognize as Night Speaker’s. “Charybdis”
Joseph had asked what the word meant, grilled each of them individually (except for the ones who weren’t “there” enough to bother asking). None had told him more than a quick search of Wikipedia could. A giant sea monster that swallowed ships? Obviously that hadn’t come to Earth. He was out of ideas.
What did Joseph do when he was out of ideas? Spend time with Moriah. He did that, though things weren’t as fun as they had been when sex was new and strange and consequence-free. Now he was afraid he might pop her stomach if he was too forceful, and being around her was a reminder of the responsibility ahead. Joe didn’t really mind, so long as he would still have time for his video games. He just— hadn’t expected he would have to be a father for another few years yet. Would he do a good job?
He had been playing The Sims every few days for practice, and practically scratching his eyes out to figure out why anyone enjoyed having families or playing The Sims. At least the real thing wouldn’t come on Origin.
Joe wasn’t like Moriah, he didn’t really have a place to go and relieve stress. She had told him he was welcome to use her forest if he wanted to, but he hadn’t seen the point. How were trees supposed to help him feel better, exactly? Even his video games could only get him so far, and in the end even the most exciting games would get boring. Unless he or other ponies with computer knowledge made them, there weren’t going to be more video games. Certainly no AAA titles ever again. When he thought about the awful travesty that was being taken into a society of scavengers, it made him want to break something. Exactly why couldn’t he have come back several thousand years, after computers had been re-invented and life could be normal again?
Exactly what was he supposed to do with his life now? Father pony babies and play the same old games over and over?
Joseph was the sort of person who ate the same meals for weeks at a time, but the prospect of living the rest of his life the same way disgusted him. He had become a software developer because he liked making things. He wanted to see people using them, feel like he had given those people something by making the system they depended on work. Even a database or an internal memo system or something would still be helping people, despite the fact that its users would never know his name.
What would make Joseph feel like he was useful again? He needed to make something, something more than making himself better at pony magic or making there be more ponies in the world.
It took him days to figure out what he wanted to do, days he spent doing absolutely nothing he was supposed to do. What did he care; Alex couldn’t pester him when she was unconscious. Who was going to call him out of not digitizing books fast enough, Cloudy Skies? The idea of her confronting anyone was laughable, tall tales the cultists told about her summoning up a whole thunderstorm notwithstanding.
Eventually the idea came to him fully formed, like Athena in the mind of Zeus. He knew his purpose as clearly as if some god had given it to him. Something challenging enough to be worth the attempt, but also possible given their resources and rewarding enough he could keep doing it for the rest of his life and not get bored. If Alex ever woke up, even she couldn’t be upset about this course. She would probably compliment him on the idea.
Alexandria had a library, but it lacked a school. The real Library of Alexandria hadn’t just been in the scrolls locked up in some musty room, it had been about gathering together the best scholars in the world. His world needed something a little different now: they had one civilization’s powers to preserve and another civilization’s powers to discover. They had a never-ending supply of new students traveling through time. How much faster would society evolve if they had a place to come and learn their new powers quickly?
They had the books, but they also had the scholars. Real Equestrian ponies who could be their teachers. Former cultists? Maybe! But what good were they going to be to the colony doing other things, anyway? Why waste them pulling ploughs or laying pipe when there were former humans for that? If the last few months were any guide, pilgrims to the library would continue arriving by the week, and at least some of them would want to stay.
They voted on it later that day. For the first time since his satellite phone idea, one of Joseph’s ideas was met with both support and enthusiasm from everypony. Moriah seemed thrilled, since it gave her something she could keep working on even when her body lost the ability to be very physical for six months or so. Odium’s ponies from Equestria were excited too, since without Earth skills they would basically have been relegated to menial labor. As Sight put it, “if we can make up for burning your books by giving you our knowledge more directly, we’re excited to help.”
There was no university in town, not even a modest community college. They would use the high school instead, with more pony-sized desks and supplies scavenged from the elementary school. Besides, it had a library they could expand using the collection of the now-unsafe Paris Public Library, plus all the digital versions of Equestrian books. Might as well make knowledge available all in one place.
He set up the entire system using computers, mapping out the classes and assigning every student peers they could practice with together. The school would have discrete areas for each of the Equestrian races, since each one seemed to have fairly unique powers that were not compatible. The only exception was flight, which seemed fairly similar between each of the races that could fly.
It was halfway through December by then anyway; too cold to do any planting, and too cold to work outside comfortably. Alex probably would’ve had them out in it anyways, expanding the solar capacity or digging a bigger sewer or something else miserable. Instead everypony in town started to spend at least some of the day in the high school. Joseph became the university’s supervising director, and under his care the school quickly surpassed the trailer park as Alexandria’s civic center.
Studying the books had been wonderful for everyone, including himself. Having ponies actually demonstrate how to do the things the books talked about was even better. Joseph was as much a student as anypony else, though the single unicorn from the cult’s ponies with an intact mind was so impressed with his magic she took him on as an assistant to help with basic levitation.
With his passion finally channeled into something that mattered to him, time took on a different meaning. He worked very hard; the university’s director was also its administrator, secretary, web developer, and discipline officer. Often that meant giving up free time, or class time, in service to the growing little college. That was okay, since he had been the one to choose to sacrifice himself for the school. It hadn’t been an assignment, even the sensible kind like Alex had used to give. It was his idea, and it was a good one.
It was snowing, though not very much. He sat in the administrator's office with Moriah resting at his hooves on a warm carpet as he worked, levitating several different markers into the air and drawing on the glass. He monitored performance by the day, drawing out each class and making little marks for each student. He could do that when the college was so small.
Moriah nudged his legs with her head, groaning. “You’ve done enough, Joseph. Come down here. I picked something nice.” He glanced down and saw she had brought a bottle of something (more of the crappy non-alcoholic stuff she was drinking these days), along with a portable DVD player.
“Not if it’s boring. I hate boring movies.”
“Not even!” She tugged on his leg, a little more forceful. “You know I hate ‘em too. It’s a classic. Remember the Matrix? I thought computer people loved that movie.”
“Nineties computers, hurrah.” He did like that movie, but he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. So he made a show of shutting down the computer, grumbling as he pushed in his chair and levitated the light switch off. Still, he sat down beside her in what was a comfortable resting position for a pony, pulling the edge of a blanket over the two of them. He poured as she fiddled with the DVD player. Moriah seemed more eager just to spend time with him these days, given he was often too busy with work and too tired after to do anything as strenuous as their old pastimes had been on most days.
That was okay. He didn’t mind spending time with her, either. It’s not like he had anywhere else to be. The movie started, they cuddled, and snow blew outside.
It seemed a shame their leader wasn’t around to see what Alexandria was becoming.
That was okay, though. As Joseph the unicorn fell asleep beside his mare and his movie, he imagined this was exactly what Alex would’ve wanted for them.