Idle Hand Does the Discord’s work.
The Robotic Hand and the Unicorn
“Ladies and gentlemen of the press and all of the people tuning in across this great nation: On behalf of the Wechee Demall, Inc. I welcome you to the unveiling of the most revolutionary advance in the technology of prosthetics since man first replaced a missing leg with a hunk of wood. I’m David Demall and let’s make history!”
The speaker, an older man with salt and pepper hair, takes a few steps, beckoning the press and camera to follow. His long white lab coat moves with him, revealing the smartly tailored Armani suit being worn beneath it. Stopping in front of a large viewing window, David continues.
“Now before I reveal our invention I would like to thank our investors, for without their funding this would never have been possible. I would also like to dedicate this device to our men and women in the armed forces. This,” he pauses and points directly at the camera, “is for you!”
A smattering of applause from the members of press echoes though the laboratory room. It is soon joined by a louder applause, piped through the speakers by the Wechee Demall marketing department. Beckoning the camera and the reporters forward, he gestures to two individuals on the other side of the glass. One is a woman in her mid 20’s, her long blonde hair held in a ponytail. Perched on her nose are thick horn-rimmed glasses, their color accentuating the blush and lipstick she’s wearing. Like David, she is dressed in an open white lab coat; however, instead of the suit she wears an impractically short mini-skirt and an almost illegally low cut blouse. She adjusts her glasses and smiles at the audience. The second is a grizzled gentleman in his mid 30’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. His trimmed beard adds to his rugged appearance. More obvious is the lack of a right hand, a metal cuff where his wrist should be.
“Let me introduce Vanessa, one of our lead engineers,” on queue the woman waves.
“She has been working tirelessly to perfect our new invention. The gentleman beside her is Sargent Major Zarken, a retired marine. He lost his right hand to an IED three years back while gallantly serving our nation abroad. He has generously offered to be the first subject to have the new prosthesis attached to him. I commend his courage.” David claps as more piped in applause plays across the speakers.
“Finally,” as he places his hands near his heart on his chest, David continues, “it is my pleasure to introduce the revolutionary iHand X42 prosthetic hand!” Sweeping his right hand out, David points towards the window. Vanessa walks to the glass window and with a Vanna White wave, reveals a dark grey hand.
“The iHand X42 has full neural control and haptic feedback. This means that it is both controlled by the users own brain and allows them to actually feel what they touch. Something no other modern prosthetic has.”
Pointing at the metal cuff on Mr. Zarken’s wrist David continues, “The device is designed to be plugged into a fitted receptacle on an amputee’s forearm, like what we see on Mr. Zarkin here. The iHand is an artificial hand that allows for fine motor control as well as a sense of touch, all of which is driven by the nerves that once controlled his missing hand.”
Vanessa lowers the hand as David turns towards a projection screen, which displays the fine details of the features the iHand contains. “We have an onboard microprocessor that allows for precise interpretation of the neural responses for better control; while each finger contains three motors,” David holds up his own hand and bends each finger joint one at a time, “allowing for full movement that mimics that of the original limb. The iHand will actually learn how each person uses it and adjust accordingly. It learns like our brain does and provides superior performance because of it.”
The slide changes to an overview of the electronics. “Thinking of the environment we have outfitted it with low consumption servos, a high capacity battery, and inductive charging capability. The iHand prototype has an extended battery life that allows for over 24 hours of continuous use or over a week in active standby mode.”
The rough schematic turns a brilliant shade of green as trees grow from the bottom right and left corners of the slide. “This has allowed our hand to be the first replacement limb rated an A+++ in green technology.”
The screen changes yet again, focusing on the iHand in general. David removes a laser pointer from a pocket in his jacket and uses it to indicate a portion of the iHand. “The hand is also fitted with a powered self-adjusting pressure cuff, designed to allow for a snug attachment to any size of appendage. From the smallest child caught in an unfortunate accident to our noble soldiers who risk life and limb to preserve our freedom, the iHand provides the fit they need! This new method of attachment provides the utmost comfort for the amputee and removes the requirement for constant readjusting or replacement of the prosthetic.”
Moving the pointer, David draws a circle around a cross-section of fabric shown on the top right of the screen. “A layer of interwoven carbon nanotubes acts as a ‘skin’ encasing all of the electronics, which allows for maximum durability with minimum weight. Also, for the peace of mind of the user, the skin can be coated with a 100% green coloring dye to match any skin tone. Even though the iHand is far lighter than an actual human hand, we can add offsetting weight to match the missing limb.”
David points at the main camera again. “We’ll do anything in our power to make the iHand fit like a glove.” He winks at the camera as he finishes.
The screen flips to the Wechee Demall Inc. logo, “Alone each of the features is a step forward in the science of artificial limbs, but combined they create a giant leap in the field; generating the closest thing mankind has developed to the robotic limbs of science fiction as featured in the Star Wars movies.” David opens his arms wide, “We have turned science fiction into science fact!”
Applause both real and artificial punctuates his speech. “Now, I bet everyone’s eager to see the iHand X42 in action, right?” Most of the reporters nod in assent. Turning back towards the window, David motions for the press to come closer to see it.
“Vanessa should have finished preparing the volunteer and we can now witness the iHand X42 in its full glor-”
David looks up to see a worried Mr. Zarken and a confused Vanessa as she frantically searches around the room for something. Looking up, she motions for David to come to the door. Moving like a man possessed, David opens the door and sticks his head in. Vanessa’s voice doesn’t reach the audience as she shrugs in disbelief.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN LOST IT!?” David’s face gets redder and redder the more she shrugs. “How can you lose something in a sealed room? This is corporate espionage! Nothing less! I’ll sue your entire modeling agency for this! Now go get one of the real engineers in here you bimb-”
Mr. Demall stops himself mid-sentence and looks back at the press, their cameras still rolling and some of them frantically scribbling notes about his outburst. Rushing to the reporters, David throws his hands in front of the nearest camera lens while motioning for security to escort the media out, “That’s it! This interview is over!” To finalize his point, David unceremoniously rips off his wireless mic and throws it at the window in frustration.
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The sun is shining, the clouds are few and far between, and a mint-colored unicorn mare named Lyra Heartstrings is taking a walk through the outskirts of Ponyville, pondering her next musical masterpiece and daydreaming about her favorite subjects.
“So glad the practice was this morning. Octavia is far more personable after she has a gallon or two of coffee.” Checking to make sure nopony is around, she begins to stand on her back legs. Taking a few tentative steps, she smiles, before falling back onto all fours. “Still need more practice.”
A green aura undoes a candy shaped clasp on her saddlebags and removes a notebook with the words humanoid observation log written on the cover and a pony doll from within it. The book levitates in front of Lyra’s face and the doll is placed in front of her front hooves. Opening the book, she looks over the many pages of diagrams, settling on a series of pages depicting the bipedal races of the land. Each page displays images in great detail of the entire walk cycle (or waddle cycle as the case may be for Ponyville’s resident dragon) of Minotaurs, Diamond Dogs, Dragons, and the mythical hairless ape.
Sitting on her flank, she picks up the doll with her magic and begins to use it to mimic the movement in her notes. When she is satisfied with the motions, she tries to imitate the walk herself, falling every time after a few steps. Undaunted, she continues to study the pages. Periodically she tries to walk on her hind legs, but fails each time.
So caught up in her own internal musings and practice, Lyra never notices the universe unceremoniously rip open over her head, breaching realities; that is, until an item from said void falls squarely onto her head, the sudden impact dropping her like a sack of bricks.
“What the buck just hit me?!”
Getting back on her hooves, the furious mare looks around for whomever or whatever hit her. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her forehoof, she checks the sky first, but doesn’t see the local prankster pegasus Rainbow Dash or the flying disaster that is Derpy Hooves anywhere around, so she instead inspects the grass. She places her right forehoof back onto the ground, but it doesn’t actually hit the ground. Instead, it seems to slide into something.
“Oh for the love of Celestia! First I get hit on the head with something, now I put my hoof into something weird, what next, Discord shows up again?” she grumbles, just to voice her frustrations to the wind and any humans hiding nearby.
Lifting her hoof up, she notices that whatever it’s in isn’t coming off. She tries to scrape it off on the ground, but feels… the grass? Raising her hoof to eye-level she sees what has attached itself. Her eyes are greeted by a dark clenched claw. The device is secured just tight enough to stay on her hoof without falling off. Her eyes grow as large as dinner plates as the pages of her log fly by, displaying pictures and diagrams she had made of such an item. She lets out a gasp and squee that would make Pinkie Pie proud. Lyra has just found the iHand.
“Is this… is this a hand?!... A hand on MY hoof? Can it really be?”
Curiosity taking hold, she begins to brush it tentatively against her other foreleg. She gets a shock when she actually feels her own coat through the hand. Her smile widens. Putting her new hand to her chin, she begins thinking of what it could be and how it might work. Before she even knows it, the iHand has opened and is now stroking her chin as a dragon or griffon would do when deep in thought. Her eyes grow larger and her grin wider, threatening to split her head in two.
“The... the fingers, they work!”
Thinking about moving the fingers herself, she sees them slowly opening and closing in response. The wrist motors respond smoothly, allowing the hand to work as intended; the microprocessor translating the received instructions into movements just as designed. Meanwhile, the unicorn using the appendage attributes all this to magic.
Joyous laughter erupts from her mouth, slowly it turns slightly manic. “WHO”S THE CRAZY MARE NOW!!!” she screams to the heavens as she gets to work, putting her hand through its paces.
Hours had passed, and she’d grabbed things, lifted things, touched things, and thrown things; all with her hand and not magic. It was such a novel experience. She was in love with her new hand, maybe even more so than with Bon Bon (not that she’d admit it to the latter’s face). Finally feeling like it was her hand, the unicorn used her magic to levitate a golden lyre from her saddlebags. It was time for her to live the dream! She was finally going to play the lyre with hands (or a hand in this case) instead of magic! Taking up her standard sitting pose, her magic shimmered around the instrument as she held it in place. With a smile that would make Pinkie envious, she begins to play:
“SKREEEEEEEE….BRNNNNNNNN…. PH'NGLUI…..MGLW'NAFH…..CTHULHU R'LYEH….WGAH'NAGL….FHTAGN!!!”
The unholy racket that played across the strings tore the mare from her dreams.
“That isn’t how it’s supposed to sound. It’s supposed to sound beautiful. The hand was supposed to make it so much better! It’s supposed to make me better! What went wrong?!”
The puzzled mare begins to think hard, reviewing everything she had just done; the hand once again strokes her chin. The lyre had been at the usual height and in the usual position. She had moved the hand to pluck the strings as she would have used her magic. Why, then, had it sounded like somepony skinning a diamond dog? Sinking deeper into her own mind, Lyra recalls the first music lessons she received after attaining her cutie mark.
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“Fillies and colts, please stop talking and focus! Learning to play a string instrument is a challenging, yet rewarding endeavor. Now, take out your instruments.”
The resonating voice of the older unicorn stallion running the class silences the precocious children in little time. The class, composed of three unicorns, four pegasi and a single earth pony, remove their instruments from the various carrying cases they use. Lyra and two of the pegasi remove small lyres from their saddlebags, the former with magic and the latter with deft movements of their wings. The remaining foals remove various violas and violins from cases carried with magic or cradled by a wing. The earth pony, a filly with a grey coat, surprises even the teacher when she easily removes a foal-sized cello from a rolling case, setting it up in front of herself.
The memory of a filly is a tricky thing, and Lyra’s memory skips forward to the instructor teaching the three lyrists how to play their chosen instrument.
“Now, you three will play the lyre in one of two different ways.” He gestures to Lyra, “Unicorns can use their magic to pluck the strings, either cradling the instrument in their forehooves or levitating it. This method takes very fine control of magic to make each string move when and how you want it. Pegasi on the other hoof,” gesturing to the pegasi, “use their wings to pluck the strings. While this method does not require the same level of control as the unicorn method, it requires a high amount of skill in other ways. For those with wings, posture and location of the instrument is critical. One must be able to comfortably move one’s wing across the strings. Too far away and the appendage will over-extend itself, losing fine control. Too close and the movements are constricted.”
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Snapping back to the current day, the words of the stallion echo through her head. She had been holding the lyre like she did when playing with magic. Now that she had a hand, she had to play it like a pegasus! Recalling the lessons once again, the enthused mare adjusts her positioning and with moderate trepidation begins to play simple children’s warm-up notes. The sounds are better now, not up to her normal standards, but much more passable and far less of an abomination. The feeling of actually plucking each string is intoxicating: So much so, in fact, that the simple warm-ups are repeated for over two hours. Finally satisfied, she sighs.
“That was great. I haven’t had that much fun when playing for ages. I can’t wait till Bon Bon hears me play and sees my hand. Shit, BON BON!”
Looking up at the sun, Lyra notices that it is early evening now, most of the afternoon having been lost in her own little world. Gasping in surprise, the mint mare hastily stores her lyre, notes, and doll. As if Nightmare Moon were at her heels, Lyra gallops back towards town.
“Shit shit shit, I had a date this evening with Bon Bon! We planned to meet after work! I hope I’m not late. I don’t like it when Bonny’s mad at me.”
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An out-of-breath Lyra reaches the center of town and, checking the sundial, realizes she still has almost an hour before the candy store’s closing time. Sitting down on a nearby bench in her unconventional manner, she takes the chance to rest and inspect her hand to make sure she didn’t damage it in her mad dash. Making sure nopony is watching, she moves each finger individually and then the wrist. Her fears of damage to her new appendage; assuaged, she decides to spring the surprise on Bon Bon before the store closes.
Sneaking in through the employee entrance at the back, Lyra stalks her prey. Masking her hooffalls with magic she prepares to pounce.
“Hello Lyra, you’re early. Also don’t think about tackling and hugging me from behind. I’m still working and need to fill this order for Pinkie Pie.”
Lyra deflates at the sudden words.
“How’d you know I was there, Bonny? I didn’t make any noise at all.”
“Well my dear, call it mare’s intuition,” replies Bon Bon, silently adding to herself, or the fact that you try the same thing every night. Clearing her throat she continues, “Now what brings you here half an hour early?”
“I FOUND A HAND!” Lyra exclaims, standing on her hind legs and throwing her forehooves into the air.
Only half listening, Bon Bon responds, “That’s nice, dear.” As she goes back to her work, tuning out her hyper partner.
“NO, I DIDN’T JUST FIND A HAND….I HAVE A HAND!!”
The increased volume breaks Bon Bon’s focus on her work. “Sweet Celestia, Lyra, calm down.” The confectioner places her hooves on the counter and lets out an exasperated sigh. “How many times have I told you that you won’t ever have a hand? Remember the incident with the shape-shifting spell you borrowed from Twilight?”
Both of them visibly shudder at the thought of the spell’s results. “Now why don’t you wait in the back while I finish up here. I really need to focus on these special candies. Once I finish we’ll take this order to Pinkie and start our date.” Under her breath she continues, “And maybe you’ll grow out of your human imitation hobby.”
“Oh?” Lyra slinks closer to her prey. “If I didn’t have a hand,” a sly smile plays across her face; she had been waiting for this moment like a filly or colt waits for their cutie mark, “could I do this?”
Reaching her right foreleg and hand towards Bon Bon, she strikes.
Startled, the earth pony throws the items she was working on in the air and turns to face the unicorn with a luminescent blush playing across Bon Bon’s face.
“What in Tartarus did you just do Lyra?!”
“Well, I just ran my hand through your tail. And what a soft and silky feeling it was, my love.”
To emphasize the point, Lyra, with a huge grin on her face, raises her right foreleg up and waves her hand at the embarrassed mare.
“You… have…a … hand. How do you have a hand?”
The unicorn begins to respond, but thinking better of her question Bon Bon places her hoof to Lyra’s mouth to silence her.
“You know what? I know you’re excited and all, but can it wait?” The cream colored mare puts her hoof around the shoulders of Lyra, giving her a quick squeeze. “You can recount the tale to me later over dinner. Deal?”
The unicorn scratches the back of her head sheepishly, “Deal!” Lyra’s energetic smile returns, just to fall once again as Bon Bon points her hoof at the mess of wrapped confections scattered across the shop.
“For now, why don’t you use your hand and your horn to help me pick up the candy you caused me to send flying? Then you can lend a hoof in completing the order so I can get it delivered. Then, finally, we can go on our date.”
A resigned Lyra nods and soon busies herself picking up and throwing away each piece of candy with her hand, squeezing each piece to feel its texture and consistency; something she had never been able to do with magic. Such sensitivity was marvelous! One particular piece of candy she handles reminds her of a certain mare. “This hand will make things fun later tonight,” she says to herself.
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A short time later the intrepid duo finds themselves at Sugarcube Corner, Lyra levitating the package of plentifully piled pink and purple candies. Walking around back to the delivery entrance, Lyra knocks on the back door using her hand. Instead of the door however, the hand hits only air as Pinkie Pie opens the door in the instant before the knock lands.
“OHLyraAndBonBonSoNiceToSeeYouWhatBringsYouBy?MyOrder!Yay!I’veBeenLookingForwardToThisAllDay!YouMakeTheBestTaffyAndHardCandiesInTown!NotThatTheCakesDon’tMakeGoodSweets,ButCakesAndCupcakesAreDifferentFromCandies!ButThey-”
“Pinkie, breathe!” Bon Bon responds, cutting off the bouncing mare in mid-sentence. Pinkie, for her part, takes a large gulp of air and with a motion of her hoof welcomes the pair inside, showing them where to deposit the order. Upon setting the packages onto the counter, Lyra waves at Pinkie, which elicits a drawn-out gasp and the party pony levitating in midair, limbs spread wide.
“Oh you found what slipped through! My tail went wang, bang, zapow and then my ear went floppy-flippy-floopy earlier, which means something slipped through into this reality! It looks like you found the iHand X42.” Turning towards the sky, Pinkie continues, “Isn’t that right Mr. observer, watcher, narrator man!”
Pinkie suddenly begins to convulse; her limbs splaying in all direction. Her tail twitches into every possible shape imaginable. Her normally poofy mane repeatedly goes back and forth between straight and curly.
“You can quit now, I get it! No talking about you!”
The erratic behavior stops as suddenly as it began and Pinkie Pie turns back towards the confused pair of mares, Lyra scratching her head and Bon Bon just shrugging. If it were any other pony besides Pinkie they’d wonder what the hay was going on, but Pinkie is as Pinkie does. Bouncing over to the two, Pinkie pulls two cupcakes out of thin air, handing one to each of them.
“That’s a thank-you for bringing by my order! You’ll bill my account like normal right Bon Bon?”
“Of course, Pinkie, your purchase will be on the next month’s invoice. Thanks for the cupcake; it looks delicious, as always.”
“Yes, it does indeed look tasty and, thanks to my hand, it feels nice as well; though my hand isn’t responding as well as it did earlier. I wonder if I broke it…”
“Oh, no you didn’t, Lyra.” Pinkie interjects, “Just like a train runs on coal and needs to be refilled; the iHand X42 runs off of a battery that needs to be recharged every night!”
“A what?” the confused unicorn responds.
“A battery. It’s basically a non-magical item that stores electricity. It’s basically a little box full of lightning.”
“I see….” Lyra says as she and Bon Bon exchange glances of ‘It’s Pinkie’.
“Just ask Twilight for a spell to store lightning magic inside a gemstone. You can then attach it to the iHand X42 with an adherence spell. Then just,” Pinkie’s hooves compress tightly together and explode outwards in a rain of confetti. “BOOM!” Static electricity arcs between the floating pieces of paper in a mini fireworks display. “Send some lightning magic into the gem every so often and your iHand will always work! Bye!”
And with that the pink pony finally chooses to obey the basic law of gravity and returns all four hooves to the floor. She then promptly vanishes into the front of the shop, leaving the two mares to show themselves out.
“Well Bonny, Pinkie was… weirder than normal, and that’s saying something. Though, she seemed like she knew about my hand. Guess it couldn’t hurt to borrow another spell book from Twilight.”
“If you insist. Just make it quick, the delivery for Pinkie took longer than I expected and we don’t want to be late for our reservations.”
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The sun is now low on the horizon and making way for the rising moon as the pair exit a large tree that serves as the town library. Lyra turns back towards the door and waves her hand bye as she addresses the attendant. “Thanks for the book Twilight, I’ll make sure to bring it back in one piece this time!”
A chuckle is heard as the door is encased in a purple aura and shuts itself. Bon Bon turns towards her partner and gives her a small glare, “Just ‘Twilight’? Isn’t that a little informal now?”
Lyra turns her head in slight confusion. “Why do you say that?”
In a very deadpan voice the earth pony replies, “I don’t know, maybe the wings and the crown?”
The unicorn only laughs, “What’s that have to do with it? She’s still the Twilight Sparkle we all know.”
“Lyra, I wish I could see the world through your eyes some times.”
“Really? I think there’s a spell for that.”
“Lets just get to the café.”
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A nice and romantic meal later, the pair returns home with chargeable crystal and spell book in hoof. Setting their saddlebags down, Bon Bon goes off to catch up on some bookkeeping while Lyra begins her spell work. In short order the adhesion spell has been cast and the gemstone is tightly attached to the back of her hand: The strength of the spell should allow it to stay attached for about a month. Now beginning the work for the charging spell, Lyra decides to add a twist to it.
“I wonder if I would have better control over the hand and play better if I stored not only the lightning magic in the gem, but also some of the magic I use to play with.” She shrugs. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
And with that fateful set of words, Lyra casts her spell; within seconds of its completion her hand is working better than it did earlier, almost as if it’s sharing her thoughts directly. That night she shows Bon Bon what having a hand in the bedroom could really do. After giving the hand a vigorous workout, Lyra gives the gem another larger charge of her magic and falls asleep, cuddling close to Bon Bon.
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The next morning dawns and, as always, Lyra is up with the sun; an old habit from her time at Celestia’s Academy for Gifted Unicorns. Raising her right forehoof to her face, she rubs the sleep from her eyes, only to scream a mere second later.
“My hand is gone! Bonny, wake up! My hand is gone!”
Grumbling slightly, the earth pony smacks Lyra upside the head in a loving manner, or as loving as a hoof to the head can be.
“It probably fell off during the night. Now go back to sleep. I don’t have to be in to work until this afternoon and your concert isn’t until this evening.”
Bon Bon snuggles closer to Lyra, “Sleep now, hand later.” The cream mare falls back into Luna’s embrace. Sighing, Lyra is at least relieved that her hand wasn’t some wonderful dream she had the misfortune of waking from; she returns to dreaming of humans and what wonders they could bring.