June 19, 2010
Canterlot
Monday
This time, Quantum managed to hold in the vertigo that usually resulted from having her molecules forcibly ripped to another point in spacetime. Two vaults ago she had considered writing a paper on this unexpected and unpleasant side-effect of travel through time and space, if she ever got home to do so. But the more it happened, the more she came to realize that the Accelerator was never intended to cause ponies to teleport randomly, nor inhabit the bodies of other ponies. A desire to vomit into the bushes might just be another cosmic joke being played on her.
She swallowed back the bile, managing only to stumble and fall to her knees this time. When her eyes came into focus, they came upon nothing but a steel-gray hoof thrust in her face. She flinched.
“A spell of dizziness again?” A gravely, masculine voice asked. “Have you been back to the doctor recently? You should have that addressed. Here, let me help you up.”
Quantum took the offered foreleg without thinking, and was drawn up to her hooves to gaze upon a sight that froze her in place.
Canterlot. Home.
Instantly her thoughts turned to her crimes, and ponies vying for her head. She recoiled from the supporting foreleg, turning to fix its owner with a startled stare. The leg’s owner - a stocky, middle-aged gray unicorn stallion with a short-cropped black mane and a stack of books levitated beside him, seemed just as startled.
“I-I’m sorry, Missus Saddleworn. If I’ve injured you--”
Quantum didn’t take the stallion up on his offer of support this time. “...Saddleworn? Where...?”
The Stallion looked worried now. He pointed at a street sign. “Bright Avenue. Near the college.”
“College...?” Quantum fought for clarity, “The Academy of Sciences...? That’s not on Bright Avenue...but Hal said it a lot of it had been destroyed...maybe they moved it...”
Now the stallion looked downright distressed. He creased his heavy brow over his eyes and squinted. “I beg your pardon, but the...what?” He offered a dry chuckle, hoping for enough mirth to break up the strange conversation. “Another thesis story from one of your Language Arts students? I know how trying you find most of them.” When Quantum said nothing, the stallion gestured to a bench. “Perhaps you should rest. There are no term papers to concern yourself with today, yes?”
Turning to the bench, Quantum caught an image of herself in the reflection of a bistro window. She was…old. Haggard. The salt and pepper streaks of her mane and tail were both tied back in utilitarian buns. The long, pink, knitted shawl draped around her neck swept back over her faded cyan flanks, obscuring her cutie mark. Reading glasses hung from a pearl chain around her neck, dangling freely as she moved. Taking note of her apparent frailty, Quantum acted fast and finally took the supporting leg, allowing herself to be guided at a frustratingly slow pace to a seat on the bench.
“O-oh yes, yes sonny--I m-mean, sir...um...oh yes, yes! You know how these old bones are!”
“Why Missus Saddleworn, you’re such a cad, trying to draw me in like that! I know better than to insult those ‘old bones’ of yours. Especially after the dressing down you gave that last filly! I wouldn’t be so bold to assist you even know, but you seemed about to faint again, and I supposed...I ought to be the gentlecolt about it. I do hope I’ve not overstepped.”
“You’re fine.” Quantum muttered, relieved at least to see a smile pass the stallion’s lips. “I-I mean--” she adopted the most haggard old biddy drawl she could manage and squeaked out laughter that sounded like the keening of a bat, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers!”
The stallion raised a brow. “I…see. At any rate, are you well now? Admittedly, I still have some paperwork to deal with back at the faculty office. Just happenstance we ran into each other.”
Quantum was about to nod to dismiss the stallion, but a glance down the street at the pristine Canterlot residential district forced her curiosity out. “U-uhm...my my, yes, I was indeed quoting a...silly story, from one of my students. You know how they are! Can you believe this one was about the future! Where there was a...science academy in Canterlot, and part of it was destroyed in a...natural disaster!”
The stallion only chuckled, rising to leave. “Indeed, quite speculative.”
“Do you know what year it took place in?”
The stallion paused. “I...can say I do not. Given I haven’t read it, personally.”
“Well,” Quantum persisted in her roundabout questioning, “How many years in the future do you think a story like that could take place?”
“I...er...”
“How many years after this year do you think?” Quantum winked. “Now just think about it. What year is it now?”
“Two...thousand and ten.”
Thank you! Quantum thought. “Well, this story took place in the year two thousand and thirty-nine! Almost thirty years. Imagine that.”
“I-Imagine that, yes. At any rate,” The stallion began to edge away, “You are well now?”
“Mmhmm!” Quantum said, far too cheerily for a nag her age. The stallion gave her several uncertain looks before finally backing away to a sufficient distance where decorum would allow him to turn away and depart.
Quantum sat.
As an old nag lounging on a sidewalk bench, the minty mare was paid little mind beyond the bewildered glances of fillies who couldn’t believe anypony could be older than their thirtysomething parents. Thankful to note from her reflection that she had a horn to show off this time, she regaled a few of them with pretty light shows and other minor feats of levitation – parts of her mother’s magic training that had actually stuck. The breeze was warm. The sky clear. Ponies who weren’t stricken by a horrible merging disease were milling about in blissful ignorance and flowerboxes were in bloom. It was such a drastic change from what she had been through the past week...or future week, that she felt entitled to take in deep breaths of fragrant air and play the part of an aged biddy sunning herself. It was so perfect, she thought it might even last for a while.
“Cutie?” A familiar voice, predicated by the by now familiar wooshing of portals to the future, spoke up. “Cutie. Hey, wake up.”
Quantum didn’t even bother to open her eyes. “Hal leave me alone...can’t you see I’m enjoying my break?”
“Break? Seriously?”
Quantum nodded lazily. “I just spent three days being slowly merged into the body of another pony.” She waved at the street, “Do you know how many times I’ve had my molecules ripped apart and played with like clay? This right here is totally a break-vault! Go...I dunno, do some homework or something.”
Hal let out a snerk. “I’m happy that you’re happy. Now are you gonna listen to me or just wait around here until you fail at whatever you’re supposed to be here to do, so you and the rest of time and space can go poofydoof out of existence?”
Quantum opened her eyes just fast enough to catch the fluttering, holographic pegasus making a ‘boom’ gesture with his hooves. She raised an eyebrow. “How do you know my job isn’t to just sit on this bench all afternoon? Maybe this old nag gets up too quickly and gets stampeded to death by a herd of fillyscouts. You’d be responsible for that because you told me to get up.”
Hal was not amused, but he kept the edge out of his tone. Quantum did have a point. She did deserve a rest. His distaste for the unfairness of this whole predicament came out in a deep sigh that preceded his words.
“Tissy’s scans suggest that the event you’re here to influence will most likely occur sometime in the next few hours.”
Quantum’s brow furrowed. She caught a glimpse of another little colt being tugged away by his mother and chastised about the rudeness of staring. Before the minty mare could state the obvious, Hal began his booping and cut in.
“Don’t worry about the looks you’re getting. It says here you talk to yourself so often that the locals are used to it. Your name is...Rosetta Saddleworn. Seventy-seven years old. You’re a college instructor, relatively good health except for general physical frailness and occasional fainting spells…” Hal noticed Quantum smiling at a passerby, “...stop that. You’re crotchety, harsh, and most of your students are terrified of you.”
Quantum wiped the smile off her face and proceeded to ‘talk to herself’. “Why am I still teaching at this age?”
“All your peers retired years ago. You’re a spinster, have nothing better to do, and you’re lonely.”
Quantum glanced at the unnecessary shawl draping down into her lap. “Guess there aren’t any fillyscout troops scheduled to come through here in the next few hours, huh?”
Hal didn’t smile. “Rosetta Saddleworn died of a brain aneurysm on November seventh, two-thousand twelve. The fainting spells are an early precursor. She had no next of kin so her personal belongings were willed to the school that will eventually expand and become our Canterlot Academy of Sciences.” Hal kept booping buttons, “Oh, Tissy says her personal notebooks are still in school storage, too.”
Quantum felt a strange shiver, and found herself pulling the shawl tighter. She focused on a basket of purple petunias hanging from a streetlamp and spoke. “Am I supposed to make sure she has friends when her time comes? Reconnect her with her family? Save her life or something?”
Hal booped, and shook his frosted mane tips. “Tissy says there are no readings on you. Unfortunately Missus Saddleworn is apparently destined to die in two years. Alone.”
Quantum felt the shiver creep up her spine again. It was the first time she knew, without a doubt, that a pony she was inhabiting was destined to die soon. The only exception was the poor soul who had almost certainly perished the moment Quantum had vaulted out of them two millennia ago in Atlaminitis, a city so old and so thoroughly obliterated that even ancient Equestria seemed to have no knowledge of it. She stared up at the late morning sky, wondering who that ancient pony was or what they looked like. There hadn’t been enough time or facts to determine either.
“So what am I doing here?”
Hal was floating around the street on his wings, allowing ponies to pass through him as he scanned them at random. This time he was wearing a turtleneck so festive, Quantum thought all he needed was a mug of cocoa hooked around his hoof and he would be ready for Hearthswarming. Setting himself with a deep frown, Hal returned.
“Dunno.”
Quantum glanced at her reflection again - the stern, sharp features of her host fueled her scolding tone. “‘Dunno’? That’s it? You just have no idea?”
Hal was rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the reflection as well, apparently feeling the intimidation that radiated from it. “It’s not always so obvious, right? I haven’t found anypony with any readings on them whose fate you could have any meaningful affect upon.”
“So what do we do?” Quantum asked drolly. Hal grinned and flexed his wings.
“We go for a trot, I guess. Walk slowly, by the way. And make sure to stoop.”
Late morning bled into early afternoon. Quantum received little more than polite smiles from elderly ponies - most others simply gave her a wide berth, ignored her entirely, or withered under a stare she’d never intended to intimidate with. Her gait and the pronounced stoop she forced herself to walk with was slowly working a kink into her lower back. At every opportunity she glanced into reflective surfaces, just to see the old nag walking along with her. Was the treatment because of who she was? Or just because she was old?
As the sun continued its ascent and bathed her shawled back with its radiance, Quantum considered her mother. Trixie had never looked so...old, the last time they’d met in prison.
“Bit for your thoughts?” Hal queried, hovering nearby.
“Oh, I was just--” Quantum looked away. “You wouldn’t want to hear about it.”
“Try me?”
“I was...” Quantum hesitated. “...thinking about my mother. How old she looked the last time I saw her.”
His smile failing him, Hal focused on his device and gave an antiseptic reply. “Trixie Lulamoon is only around fifty or something in our time.”
“Hal, I just...” the now-aged mare faltered, “if I could just...I would...”
Hal was thankful for a distraction. He pointed. “Psst, hey. Check that out up ahead.”
Quantum halted before a small patch of rose bushes. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d wandered all the way past the city walls, but the sight beyond the bush gave her pause. “Hey, it’s Princess Twilight. And Spike!”
Hal shook his head. “Not ‘Princess’ Twilight. Not yet. Look at her flanks.”
Quantum squinted. Sure enough, Twilight seemed even younger than the minty mare remembered her, and she was entirely bereft of wings - just a simple unicorn. Twilight had a satchel over her shoulder that was laden with books, and the way her eyes were closed by the sun, it seemed as though she wasn’t used to focusing much in direct light. Beside her, Spike stood by with a quill and a long sheet of parchment that had notes Quantum couldn’t make out scribbled all over it.
Hal opened his mouth and closed it again. Neither he nor his fellow student could help but gape, considering the circumstances of the last Hell they had both spent alongside these two peaceful souls who were none the wiser.
“I-I could tell her about the plague--” Quantum started forward, but Hal was in her way in a flash.
“No. No matter what reality that was, you can’t divulge information about the future.”
“Wh-why not?” Quantum sputtered. “We could prevent all of that horrible stuff from ever even happening! And if this isn’t the same reality, what can it hurt to just warn her? I’ll be dead in two years and she can just write it off as ramblings from an old nag if it doesn’t happen!”
Hal’s glare was stern. “Spacetime is already screwed up enough. You’re only taking more fragmentation risks if you try to disrupt the natural flow of events any further than you have to. Besides, what are you going to say? ‘Oh hey Twilight, in five years you’ll be living in Ponyville and you’ll be friends with this one apple farmer, so make sure you don’t turn into a blob of insane ponygoo with her, okay?’”
“But I can’t just...do nothing...” Quantum looked on. Twilight was having a conversation with three unicorn mares around her age. The princess-to-be’s eyes were darting around, and she looked as though she were just riding the conversation out to its end. Quantum felt a little pang of empathy.
“I’ve got readings,” Hal announced.
“Which one?”
“All of them. But far greater on Twilight.” Hal tapped buttons. “Tissy’s analyzing it.”
Quantum sought for a way to pass the time. “Who are the other three?”
Hal hesitated, reading, and finally spoke. “Lemon Hearts, Twinkleshine, aaaand...Minuette. Locals. Friends of Twilight’s...sort of.”
Quantum watched the conversation draw to a close with a bright, shared smile between the participants. All of them. Twilight and Spike began to walk in Quantum’s direction. Instinctively, the not-quite-so minty nag ducked below the bushes.
“Ohh boy, I’m so excited!” Spike smiled. “Moondancer’s party is going to be awesome! I got her a present and everything!”
Twilight giggled. “You’re nothing if not always prepared, Spike. I have to admit I didn’t even remember when that party was supposed to be. I’d lose my head if I didn’t have you around to keep it attached.”
As the slowly cantered by, Spike nudged Twilight gently in the ribs, “So what did I tell you? You’re gonna have a great time, trust me! All our friends will be there!”
Twilight looked uncertain. “I-I know Spike. It’s just that I have so much research I still need to do. A-and this party--”
“--is just the thing you need to relax and unwind a little!” Spike finished the thought. “Didn’t Princess Celestia herself even say that there’s more to life than studying?” The little dragon looked concerned. “Twilight, really, you just need to get out a little more. I worry about you. One afternoon won’t hurt, right?”
Twilight stopped, obliging her assistant to do the same. Her indecision deepened, but Quantum felt herself silently encouraging her future mentor to make the decision she knew she herself wouldn’t have. Finally, Twilight smiled.
“You know...you’re right, Spike. One party can’t hurt. Thanks for looking out for me.”
The two resumed their course for the city walls. Quantum touched her cheek just to feel the soft smile that now lived there. If Twilight could do it...maybe she could too. Someday.”
“Cutie,” Hal’s voice was like a knife. “Stop her.”
“What?”
Hal’s eyes widened with shock as he glared at his readouts. “Stop her! Stop her NOW! No matter what happens, Twilight Sparkle cannot walk away from here with the intent to go to that party!”
At a loss, Quantum glanced helplessly between the retreating mare and the floating pegasus. “B-but why? Friendship is magic, right...? Isn’t this a good thing?”
Hal looked frantic. He flew out into the open and pointed condemningly at the two fleeing purple behinds. “If she goes to that party, Tissy says the odds are overwhelmingly likely that she’ll make a whole bunch of new friends, and strengthen her bonds with current ones!”
Quantum pursed her lips, feeling somehow defensive of the status quo. “...soooooo? Can’t she have friends?”
“Sooooo,” Hal mimicked sardonically, “If she makes a whole bunch of friends, Princess Celestia won’t send her to Ponyville to make friends, and if she doesn’t go to Ponyville...do I need to say more? The Summer Sun celebration is the day after tomorrow!”
Quantum ran some calculations in her head, and gasped satisfactorily. She glanced up at the sun as if trying to divine the future from it. “The mare in the moon...Princess Twilight told me that was the same year Princess Celestia sent her to Ponyville for the first time.”
Hal held up a hoof as if lecturing. “And if she makes friends now, she won’t be paying attention to her studies. Tissy says when Nightmare Moon comes, nopony, not even Princess Celestia, will be a match for her, because the elemental keepers will never receive their power!” Hal began booping furiously, “Eighty-seven point four percent says that a power-maddened Princess Luna, as Nightmare Moon, will defeat her sister in combat, banish her to the moon in vengeance, cause eternal night, and enslave the entire populace of Equestria through sheer power and control over food reserves, because nopony will be able to grow anything. Celestia won’t have a chance of ever escaping a lunar prison because she’s the Princess of the Sun, and...Twilight and Spike...” Hal swallowed, “...riddled by guilt over the lack of diligence, will make a fruitless attempt to fight back...and die in the process.”
Quantum didn’t want to believe it. “...all of this because Twilight made friends?”
Hal simply folded his forelegs and nodded. He waited until Quantum’s attention turned back to the retreating purple pair before continuing, his voice like stone.
“Tissy says Twilight’s studies under Princess Celestia are complimented by some coursework at the local college. Missus Saddleworn tutors her in ancient languages and culture. You’ve got clout.”
Quantum’s ears drooped with indecision. “...what do I do?”
“Go out there and ruin the magic of friendship.”
It was all Quantum could do to catch up with her targets while still maintaining the gait of the elderly. As soon as she was comfortably within earshot, she cried out.
“Miss Twilight Sparkle! H-Hold it right there!”
Both pony and dragon halted. They looked at one another without recognition, and Quantum mentally smacked herself for the lack of gravel in her voice. Finally they turned. Spike’s back straightened. Twilight’s eyes widened, but she smiled and turned to approach.
“M-missus Saddleworn!” The future princess offered. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice. You sound really...melodic, today.”
“I do?” Quantum touched her throat, but quickly dismissed the compliment with a shake of her head and started croaking out words. “Miss Sparkle! Did my ears deceive me--well no, my ears never deceive me--” Hal smiled encouragingly. “--or did I hear something about a party?”
Spike kept his mouth shut, but it was obvious he was now burning with worry. Twilight had her ears down and spoke with deference. “O-oh, well...yes, yes ma’am you did. Moondancer. You remember Moondancer? Well, she’s throwing a party, and I thought about it, and you see, my friends were nice enough to invite me, so I thought--”
“Friends?” Quantum seethed. She reached deep down, calling on all her suppressed regret, “Miss Sparkle, there is no time for friendship to a unicorn who wants to be the best. You do want to be the best, don’t you?”
“Th-the best?” Twilight continually shifted her weight, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to gallop away. “I...I want to be successful in my studies, but I don’t know about being the best--”
Quantum cut Twilight off and summoned up enough gall to poke her mentor right in the chest with a hoof. “You want to succeed? Aiming for second place leads you to nothing but a life as the first loser! Parties are a waste of time - a distraction for small-minded ponies who like to guffaw at balloons and confetti.”
“That,” Twilight’s voice was small, “...that’s awfully harsh, Missus--”
“You don’t have time for parties! You should be working, all the time, to better yourself. You do a disservice to ponykind even thinking otherwise, and you should be ashamed of that. All you’re going to end up doing at a party is standing in the corner pretending that the decorations are fantastically interesting, because you don’t feel comfortable around other ponies, and you don’t know how to talk to them. You should just stay in your laboratory, where you belong, and keep building your machines where it’s safe, instead of--”
Quantum covered her mouth abruptly with a hoof. Twilight’s expression wavered between confusion and uncertainty. “Machines...? But I thought...it’s good to make friends with other ponies...”
“You thought wrong,” Quantum threatened. “And it will show on your tests.”
Spike was gently stroking Twilight’s flank now, looking almost as terrified as he had when braving the ruins of a Ponyville of the near future with a bucket on his head. “Twilight, let’s...go home. W-we can talk about the party later, and I’m sure you can still get some studying in. That’s okay...” he glanced at Quantum, “...right?”
“No, Spike.” Twilight announced.
The little dragon’s green crests looked like they might collapse as he slowly craned his neck to look up at his mistress. “No? Wh-why not?”
All eyes were on Twilight. For a moment it looked as though she might recover from the verbal assault on her sensibilities, but Spike felt himself deflate in time with the bowing of her head and the disappearance of her smile.
“Because we have work to do. I’m Princess Celestia’s star pupil. I have a responsibility to uphold and a reputation to maintain.” Twilight’s brow hardened menacingly. “We don’t have time for parties.”
“B-but Twilight, you were so happy about--”
“Let’s go, Spike.”
“B-but--”
“Let’s go, Spike.” Twilight repeated, turning away to signify the discussion was at an end. Spike glanced between the two ponies...and couldn’t help pricking Rosetta Saddleworn with a brief glare of annoyance. Quantum scowled long enough for the baby dragon to flinch and scurry away.
“Cutie, you can stop looking like a gargoyle now.”
Quantum tousled her unkempt mane with a snort and a shake of her head. Her host’s tight bun did not move. She began to trot away in the opposite direction, her hooves suddenly burdened by a weight that matched the age she was pretending to be.
“What was all that back there?” Hal queried, fluttering by her side like a puppy. “You could have confused or upset her right back into going to the party. Twilight isn’t a mechanical engineer.”
Quantum looked up. There in the path where it simply had not been before, the shrouded colorless pony with the cowled black face regarded her. Beside it stood yet another shadow. Quantum was not surprised to see either of them, nor did she care enough to make out the silhouette’s somewhat familiar, masculine features.
Hal held his forelegs up and looked where his friend was looking. Seeing nothing, he floated in front of her, blocking her view, and spoke encouragingly. “Hooves in the game, remember? You did the right thing, Cutie. Tissy says Twilight will get over it by the time she gets to Ponyville, and even though she’ll never see Missus Saddleworn again, she’ll make the friends she needs to make, and everything will be fine.” Seeing little recognition from the scrawny unicorn, Hal waved a foreleg in front of her face. “Cutie?”
“Friendship isn’t always magic.” Quantum stated plaintively.
Blue-white fire invaded Quantum’s senses, burning away reality around her.
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~Author’s note – the date for this chapter was chosen based upon the date of the 2010 summer solstice, which occurred on June 21st of that year.~