//------------------------------// // Conversation 20: Applejack // Story: Aporia // by Oliver //------------------------------// Twilight was pacing around her suitcase in circles. As usual, she arrived to the station way before everypony else. She always does. She always gives everypony an earlier time than the actual train departure, too, because somepony is always late, and then Twilight gets irritated anyway. But today, she just nodded at me and continued pacing, and Spike, sitting on the suitcase with a quill and her checklist, continued trailing her with his eyes. “Twilight, you gotta stop before you twist Spike’s head off,” I said. “Huh?” she stared at me like an owl woken up in the middle of the day. “Oh… Good morning, Applejack,” she said, and resumed pacing in a circle as if she didn’t hear me. Spike made an apologetic face at me and threw his claws up. “She’s been like this for most of yesterday and the entire morning. Maybe you can figure something out, AJ, because I sure can’t.” I do have an idea. Kinda. Stepping in her path, I said, “You’re not the one getting married, Twilight.” She bumped into me and I finally got enough of her attention to get considered seriously. “My brother is getting married, AJ,” she said. “It’s practically the same thing!” “No it’s not,” I poked her muzzle with a hoof. “It’s worse. But it’s not the same thing, not even close.” “You don’t get it!” she protested. “First, humans threw off every single schedule I had, then I got all those puzzles with no answers and no clues. I thought at least my family isn’t changing. And then, when I’m trying to relax a bit, I find out that my brother is getting married, and he didn’t even bother to mention it the last time I saw him.” “And when did that happen? None of us even knew you had a brother,” I wondered. “You didn’t make time to visit him after the Dessert Competition. You didn’t see him at the Gala either, you spent most of that glued to the Princess…” “It was on Hearth’s Warming. After the play,” Twilight admitted grudgingly. “That’s long enough to get started on a foal for some. It’s not like you gave the guy a chance, he’s a busy pony with a stressful job. And unlike most of ours, his isn’t very flexible,” I said. “Now, if he forgot to invite you at all, that would be something to write home about.” “Oh come on, that would be nonsense,” Twilight protested. “It happens,” I stated. “Sometimes, even to the Apples. But you didn’t just get invited, you were asked to run the thing. Just sit down, relax. Give him a chance to explain himself.” Twilight sighed and cast her eyes down. “I will. I’m just afraid that what he answers will make it even more confusing.” I looked at Spike, who shrugged in response. Figures. Before I could say anything else, Pinkie jumped on me out of nowhere and bounced off. “Bouncybouncybouncy! Funfunfunfunfunfunfun! The wonderful thing about weddings is that they’re not a party of one!” she bubbled, jumping around us in circles. “Applejack, Pinkie, check,” Spike announced, crossing checkboxes on the list, as he remembered he’s still in charge of that. “Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, check,” Rainbow Dash commented from somewhere above our heads. I looked up and waved to her. “Mark me as extra awesome today,” she added, to the synchronous tweeting of Fluttershy’s birds, who surrounded them both like a cloud. “Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, bird choir, check. Extra awesome, check,” Spike replied, crossing more checkboxes. Really, she had a checkbox for that, too?… I went around the suitcase to take a glance at the checklist. Ayup, there is a checkbox for “extra awesome.” Sometimes I wonder if Twilight’s crazy or just pretending. Today is one of those times. “You’re late, Rarity!” I heard Twilight shout. “And you, Mary, I thought you would know better.” Looking up from the checklist, I saw Rarity, all dolled up with freshly styled mane and a recent hooficure and trailed by a cartload of boxes, bags and suitcases held in the glow of her magic. Next to her, Mary looked about as plain as it’s possible for something so tall, and it actually seemed like she’s trying to become one with the nearest wall and succeeding, even though the wall was a dozen steps away. “We’re fashionably late, darling, it’s an art form!” Rarity exclaimed. “I knew you would be late, that’s why I always tell everypony to come early,” Twilight snapped. “But I keep hoping you will someday exceed my expectations!” “And I appreciate that, Twilight, but we needed every last minute,” Rarity smiled back. “Behold, the first in my new line. I shall call it ‘The Spirits of Hearth’s Warming!’” “I still say this name is out of season,” Mary commented, fidgeting with a small suitcase in her arm. “Shush, darling, let everypony take a look,” Rarity grinned. And everypony took a look. Now, usually, Rarity’s work merits a gasp. Occasionally, a gasp of shock, let’s be honest here, sometimes she gets too “avant-garde,” as she says. But usually, it’s a gasp of admiration, I might not be one to wear those things much, but I know pretty when I see it. This time the reaction from everypony was dead silence. Strict, straight lines, like something those town hall bureaucrats wear to work, but way more elaborate. Grey cloth with a faint pattern of a slightly different shade of grey, the eye practically slides off. The only detail worth noticing was a white bow in the middle of the chest, held together by something with a large blue gem in it. That’s the plainest Rarity outfit since Twilight’s birthday celebration in Canterlot, and she apologized for that one, even though Twilight liked it. “It’s… very Mary,” Twilight finally said. Rarity flashed a winning grin at her, but Twilight decided to change the subject. “Which reminds me… Tell me, Mary, did you know about this wedding in advance?” “Yes,” Mary replied with an enigmatic smile. “Then why didn’t you tell me?” Twilight inquired, narrowing her eyes. “Multiple reasons,” Mary started. “For one, it’s possible my knowledge does not apply at all, because I know that Equestrias without this wedding exist. I think there’s at least one where he marries somepony else. You didn’t ask, and I try not to volunteer prophecy.” While she was speaking, Twilight kept staring at her, and by the end of the phrase, her mouth was hanging half open, but Mary continued, “Furthermore, if I did tell you before that letter arrived, I’m pretty sure Shining Armor would be very angry with me, and…” She paused and threw a curious glance at Rarity, “I think it’s working, but why don’t I see anything?” “Because Twilight doesn’t have a mirror on her face,” Rarity grinned. “It will be visible in a photo, but alas, we don’t have the time to get one printed.” She looked at Fluttershy, who was still hovering in her cloud of birds and eyeing the dress curiously. “You’re next, Fluttershy, dear, and I won’t hear any excuses!” The implied threat should have sent Fluttershy covering behind something, and it did. The something happened to be Twilight, at which point Fluttershy adopted Twilight’s pose with mouth hanging slightly ajar. “Oh!” she whispered. What the hay is going on? “It’s directional,” Rarity explained, noticing my confusion. “Try to match your line of sight with Twilight, you’ll see it,” she grinned like a madmare with sparkling eyes. We clustered around Twilight, pressing into her sides, and even Spike hopped onto her back and peeked out between her ears. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, Rarity!” he exclaimed. “She does look just like a spirit!” “I’m already something of a ghost,” Mary grinned, twirling about and leaving a trail of sparkles in the air, “but it’s nice to know I’m a pretty one at that.” She crouched before Rarity and suddenly planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, Rarity, that’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me in years.” Rarity blushed, but chose to take this exaggerated praise with pride, lifting her horn ever so slightly in the air. From the right direction, what was a boring, official outfit that most right-minded ponies wouldn’t willingly wear, became a bright, eyecatching number with a complex floral pattern in white, glittering in the light that isn’t supposed to be here. Not a whole lot actually changed, except maybe the color of the gem in the bow – it was a golden yellow now – and yet the effect was radically different. “Is that an illusion?” I wondered. “Who do you take me for, Applejack, a street magician?” Rarity scoffed. “It is magic, of course, but that’s what it actually looks like.” “Is that your gem finding spell?!” Twilight asked, wiggling out from between me and Pinkie and walking in a circle around Mary and Rarity, which caused the light pattern to quickly fade from view and returned the dress to its natural grey plainness. “Trade secret, my dear!” Rarity exclaimed in triumph. Surprising Twilight with magic isn’t something she gets to do often. “I don’t have your theoretical aptitude, so I decided to keep things simple. Microscopic sapphires melded directly into the cloth and the gem finding spell on a reverse vector, with a targeting matrix from basic telekinesis,” she explained, without batting an eyelid. “It’s all in the brooch, the dress itself is quite inert.” “This is fascinating, I never thought you could use these spells like that!” Twilight commented, completing the circle. As she moved into view, I saw the transformation of the dress again. “Why didn’t you ask me for help?” “Because I didn’t want to bother you with something so trivial,” Rarity deflected, even though it was very obvious that she considers the work anything but trivial. “I only had the time before the train to finish this, and explaining what I need to do and why would take too long,” she added. “We are on the clock here, aren’t we all?” True to form, the train chose that moment to arrive – exactly on time, for once – and the hiss of steam drowned out all the little noises on the platform, until Twilight overpowered it with a yell, “Take your places, everypony, we’re still on schedule!” ✶                ✶                ✶ On the train, Rarity flooded Twilight with magic questions, which at least got her to stop sulking for good. Fluttershy was listening with keen interest, her eyes following the floating pencil that Rarity was sketching with. She even had something to say about camouflage patterns, most of which I didn’t rightly understand. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie huddled in a corner scheming something, and only Mary was sitting next to a window, alone, near invisible in her new outfit. I don’t get just how Rarity pulled that off, but no doubt, being invisible was the entire point. We still have a few hours to kill till we get there, now’s a good time. “What did you mean when you said you’re a ghost, Mary?” I asked. “Well, ghosts don’t exist, right?” Mary replied. “Which applies to me, in a way.” “That’s gotta be baloney,” I said. “You were born, sure as sunshine, and had parents just like everyhuman else, and you don’t seem dead yet, so you’re not a ghost. How come you never talk about your family, by the way?” Mary looked away from the window, and smiled at me. “My family has never existed, so whatever I say about them is essentially nonsense. And before you say this makes me a cliche character, I am well aware.” “Uh… I beg your pardon?” “Time travel accident,” she explained without any enthusiasm. “I’m sure that this time travel thing isn’t all you can talk about,” I insisted. Mary sighed. Her dress flickered, as it started shifting towards the sparkly white pattern. “Well, imagine, that in the distant past, Granny Smith had never found zap apples,” she said, raising a finger. “Somepony scared a hydra and it stumbled on Granny Smith and nearly ate her, so she never ventured into the forest again. The Ponyville Apples never got their big break, Ponyville never became a proper town, most of the ponies that moved in did not, and instead of you, somepony very different was born. That kind of thing happened.” “Oh… I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I darned went and put my hoof in it. Of all ponies, I should have known it’d be something like that. “Don’t be,” Mary smiled. “It’s not like anybody actually died in it… if the term even applies,” she added, pulling the window down and shutting some of the train noise out. “In fact, the Great War started ten years later, and a great deal less people died, because they didn’t have ballistic rockets to lob at cities across the Channel.” She’s taking it better than I imagined. “What the hay did you even do?” I wondered. “I found my time machine when I was a student,” Mary said, “and the first thing that popped into my head was that I really want to see Sir Charles Babbage…” “Anyhuman I should know about?” I interrupted. “Cause I can’t chew through your entire stack of books in just one evening like Twilight. Not that she’d let me have all of them at once, she put them all down in the reference section.” “Well, remember how Twilight goes starry-eyed when Star Swirl the Bearded comes up? That kind of person,” Mary explained. “Ah. Say no more,” I stopped her. I know a lot more about Star Swirl the Bearded by now than it is healthy, any more and I’m gonna start telling dirty jokes about the old wizard. I don’t need a lecture about the human version. “Yeah, I was just as insufferable back then, I imagine…” Mary snickered, looking at my scrunched up face. “So I set the time to jump seventy years back, and pop out flying over the city of Turin, and this thing,” she said, tapping a finger next to her golden eye, “starts seeing things… I barely remember what I was doing, for a while it took over my vision completely, so I had no clue what was going on at all. I know I did leave the car, but I don’t know how got back, I had to reset the time blind. It didn’t happen on the first try.” The things Twilight said about this golden eye thing were kind of wild. Now that her dress is all lit up, and this eye is staring at me… it really is kind of like she’s looking through you and seeing your soul. Next time I see that grey mailmare, wasshername, I’m gonna give her some apples free of charge just to be nice. Only having one eye is bad enough, having an eye that sees something you don’t want has got to be worse. “When I was back…” Mary continued, “the same king, the same prime minister, a lot of things were the same, but Charles Babbage was barely remembered, nobody even heard of Ada Byron, Gottlob Frege was just an obscure mathematician… My grandfather met my grandmother in the Crystal Palace on the Great Exhibition, in front of Mr. Babbage’s analytical engine. Since the first analytical engine was never completed, this meeting didn’t happen and my mother was never born. And neither was I.” She concluded it with a sheepish smile. “That doesn’t make sense,” I insisted. “You’re here, I can see you. At least I think you are, with this dress it’s kinda hard to tell.” Spirits of Hearth’s Warming were supposed to be nice ponies in that story, but they are ghosts… “But I can touch you,” I said, poking her arm with a hoof. Sure enough, she was solid and soft like any living thing. “Yes, it is a bit crazy, isn’t it,” Mary agreed with a grin. “I spent years running around, trying to figure out what changed and how to put it back. Whenever I fixed one event that went wrong, I would find another one blocking me from existing. I had to have been extraordinarily lucky to be born in the first place. Some things are just not repeatable. I kept thinking, that if I’m still here, this means that sometime, in my future, I do figure out what did I miss, it just didn’t happen to me yet. Took me a while to understand time doesn’t work like that.” “How does it work, then?” I wondered. “Difficult to explain, but simple, all the same,” Mary smiled. “Time actually grows both ways, and it’s not really a single line. It’s like a ball of yarn,” she said, making spinning motions with her fingers. Kind of hypnotic, when the cuffs of her sleeves sparkle so much. “Twisted and tangled, but it has two ends, which dissolve into fibers, where time doesn’t exactly exist. Every thread of history is made up out of myriads individual fibers, all different. Only here and now, everything is in one place and at one time, like threaded through a needle. One little paradox is nothing.” “I can’t rightly imagine living like that,” I said, after spending some time trying to take it all in. “If I knew I had a chance to bring mom and dad back, I’d waste half my life trying to do it. But I still have Big Mac, and Granny Smith, and a little sister to care for, and that wouldn’t be doing right by them.” “I got over it,” Mary shrugged. “For me, it was a long, long time ago. Once I finally stopped, and realized that I have a time machine, I was free. To go somewhere else entirely, somewhen else entirely, to remake the world in my own image. So I did.” I’m not sure I liked the way she said that.