The Campaign for Extra Trixie, and other unlikely experiments

by Impossible Numbers

Heliocentric

The little filly Twilight put her eye to the telescope's lens, and waited for the sun to go down. The mattress on which she stood had a deep impression where she'd bounced up and down on it, and sometimes she had to nudge one of the tripod's legs whenever it slid down towards her own. By her side, a book was laid out, and she looked at it every few seconds to check the circular diagram. She should have closed the curtains and gone to sleep long ago, but she knew her parents never enforced the bedtime rule.

All the same, her tiny heart beat faster when she heard the hoofsteps coming up the spiral staircase. But she couldn't put the telescope away whatever happened. There were so many stars up there, and she thought she could see patterns among them, and colours, and there were so many questions, their answers as dark and mysterious as the space between the lights.

For a moment, the young unicorn resisted the lens long enough to check the sun's progress, and was rewarded with a spectrum of colours from bright yellow to the darkness of the oncoming dusk.

Twilight returned to the lens. She focused on the evening star and tried to ignore the creak of hinges behind her. Not now, she thought, not now! I'm so close!

Her mother chuckled quietly. "Tut, tut, little Twi. You know what time it is."

"I'm a 'stronomer," said Twilight. She didn't look around because only amateur astronomers got distracted, and she was never going to be amateur. "I have to work at night, 'cause the stars are shy."

"The stars are shy, are they?"

"Yep. They don't come out when it's day because the sun's so big and scary-looking."

Her mother nodded knowingly, and walked over to the bedside to look at the book. "It is big, isn't it? But it's a good sun. It gives us warmth and light so that we don't have to shiver or stumble in the dark. And the Princess makes sure we get enough sunlight and enough night time to feel comfortable."

Twilight's horn glowed. At her age, the power surges should have long since settled down and become more manageable, but Twilight still retained the power to move several axles and dials at once. The little filly giggled at her own achievement and looked away from the lens for a moment.

"Mommy, could the Princess make the world go around the sun, and not the other way around?" she said.

She knew at once that it was a bit of a no-go area. Her mother's lips pursed in a way that reminded the filly of the time she'd knocked the cookie jar onto the floor. And most of the kitchen's food out of the cupboard. Power surges did interesting things.

"That's a strange question," said her mother slowly.

"Could she?" said Twilight.

"Well, I guess she could, but why would she want to?"

A pair of stubby hooves reached out for the tome, closing it, and Twilight held it out for her mother to see the cover. It said: Celestial Speculations on the Sphere of Stellar Speculations.

Twilight took a deep breath. "Because the natural ph'losopher pegasus Sky Scraper in the year 18 Before C'lestia did some mathematrical calc'lations and he used a stick planted on the planet's equator and a second stick planted nearer the north pole, and he compared the length of their shadows at midday and he used... um... trig-on-o-me-tree to calc'late the distance of the sun, and he said that at that distance, in order what for the sun to be the size it is, it would have to be really, really, really, really big and hot and heavy. So, if the planet is really tiny and warm and light, then it would be really, really easy to make the planet spin round so that it looks like the sun is going round."

Twilight noticed her mother was blinking. Uh oh, she thought. I think I used too many big words again. But the book used the big words. Why can't I?

"Uh..." said her mother, "very... interesting, Twi. But then, what about the moon?"

"That's what I'm going to find out tonight," said Twilight. "I think the moon reflects the light off the sun, so if my calc'lations are correct, the moon will have a big round shadow on it when it comes out tonight because the sun is shining and the planet is in the way."

To her surprise, her mother's face lit up and she burst out laughing. A tear appeared in the corner of her mother's eye and had to be wiped away on the back of her hoof.

"Oh, sweetie, bless you! Sometimes you say the funniest things. There's never been a shadow on the moon!"

Twilight looked worried for a moment. "There hasn't?"

"No!" Her mother managed to banish the amusement from her voice, though her lips were straining with suppressed laughter. "Everypony knows the sun goes around the world. Her Majesty herself says so! You do love to go off on your own little world when you read so much, sweetie."

"Oh," said Twi. Her mother's horn glowed and the telescope, the tome, and the curtains moved of their own accord. Twilight felt herself rise from the bed while the mattress was smoothed down. Her mother put the things back in the closet and tucked her into bed, bringing the quilt up to her small pasterns as the young unicorn stared in complete surprise at the ceiling.

"Now get some sleep. Daddy's going to take you to the library again tomorrow, so you'll need to be fresh and alert in the morning." A quick kiss on the forehead, and Twilight's mother ambled back to the door. It closed quietly.

After the distant thumping of hooves died away, the bedroom was silent for a long time.

Twilight turned to the doll next to her. "Smartypants, do you think I was a silly?"

No answer. Twilight pushed the quilt off and waddled over to the curtains, throwing them back. The skies had now lost all but the darkest colours, and the stars stared down at her in their thousands like quiet auditors.

She crouched down and peeked under the bed, where there was a black mass of square objects filling up every available cubic centimetre.

"Do you think I should have told her about all the Relativ'ty books?" she said.