• Published 3rd Jan 2014
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Twilight makes first contact - Immanuel



Princess Twilight Sparkle writes pony history by opening a portal to another world and making first contact with extra-Equestrian intelligence. Only snag: the portal opens at a pony ranch on Earth.

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Chapter 7

The mountains and oceans and spires of data formed networks within networks in an endlessly spiraling system that curved back on itself.

She follows the spell-child as it resonates within the physics of the library, pulsing in time with the fragments of matter making up the logic ports.

The rules imposed on the matter suggesting the order of abstraction were a door to a universe of interconnectedness.

The spell-child gains layers as it interacts with the levels of abstraction; it expands and talks in babble – random impulses searching for meaning, for grounding, it gains its imperative from Twilight's mind, but fragments itself in the neverending complexity of the organic pattern emerging from the simple rules of a base order.

The words they know were scattered among the vast sea of addresses; they connect to one another in a chain of one after another – endlessly, until they loop back and explain themselves – and occasionally, to large documents filled with more words, and other files more complex than that.

An address that marks a daunting mountain of numbers tells how it orders itself: a position of two coordinates and a value for brightness and color is a map of an image – another address is a monster of values and a mathematical key that seems to unlock a dimension – when an eternity was passed it was called time, and the file becomes a waveform: alien speech in abstraction of numbers.

She listened to speeches and sensed the connections forming between words and sounds and words and words – but it was all a confusion, an incoherent babble, a system of meaningless chaos – and it hurt her; the spell-child was like a seed sprouting into an open wound.

Her mind is ripping itself apart – there is too much data, too many doors; she needs, must, is existentially dependent on finding a key to unlock it; to shunt it into a subsumed process.

As she felt her mind slipping into a mist finer than the building blocks of universe, a small connection was made – a demonstrative word: a connection to reality, to meaning – such a small thing in itself, yet so essential to escape a death by nonsense; it's an anchor, a key, a hint at a sense behind and within the colossus of links.

She feels the transition in the dispersment of a search pattern into a secondary layer – a formation of subconscious to the spell-child: a staggeringly huge subconscious to form a basis of a translation, and she feels breathless and drowning even while the horrifyingly complex web becomes a layer of cotton that lulls her to accept her ghost-like form floating within it.

Slowly, so slowly and gently, in drops and trickles and half-formed suggestions, she began to understand, as the words linked to one another in a futile attempt to explain each other: there was no word that would act as the key; behind words there were nothing but other words – she saw in her mind's eye the species of aliens blindly blundering about their material world, sensations flaring in their bodies, while a mind was trying to form by navigating the universe with the map it was drawing at the same time – it must have been endlessly confusing.

The words have no meaning, the language is a lie, a concept links to an image half-formed by the influence the system of concepts has on itself.

They must have formed all meaning in an ever-changing, always-negotiable, never-definite agreement probably not even consciously aware of its nature, from contact to contact, from generation to generation redefining and refining the tool of their understanding; when did it stop being signals and demonstrations and gained a level of abstraction to bridge concepts into actions and customs and dreams and theories?

And there is the beauty of it – no meaning beyond that which is formed within language – no language beyond that which exists when it is used; they are a species that touches reality through friendship and argument and interaction with one another – a sociality dictated by its necessity for existence; she understands now – how could they not have shown up on her matrix – it must have been the very essence of their civilization; oh, how they must have struggled in understanding the world and themselves, trapped in this maze of meanings – how such language could exist at all, she does not know, but its existence has her in tears: it lives, it connects, it is born again in interaction.

She compared the snippets they had gleaned from their own interactions with the sapients of this world to the barely existing collection of understanding in its embryonic form – it seemed so harsh, so cold, so devoid of life – unless one saw how the string of symbols and logic propositions actually worked: each word in the line connecting to the entirety of language, changing the meaning of the previous and future words with its links; there were denotations and suggestions and connotations in innummerable steps; rules of language broken and ignored and mutated beyond recognition stood side by side with other sets of rules blithely in contradiction with one another; examples of language in use varied from situation to situation, from individual to individual; it all was nothing as much as a constant interaction hoping to form a living consensus.

The nested form of the abstraction level is making sense to her now – a moment of thought is spared to the things she has been shying from for a while now: the biggest mountains, worlds unto themselves, hiding behind certain addresses and links – but she feels she is not ready for them yet; there is an order to things – a crude, imposed order to something that is an interacting continuum – an order of progression from material to logical to abstract to social in formation of meaning, and somewhere within that formation there is knowledge that is cultural in how it is constructed, how it is presented, how it is debated and doubted, and finally, in how she will see it.

The language was incomplete and illogical, full of discrepancies and redundancies, and yet – she wondered at its ephemeral and fragile beauty, how the meaning formed in the connections between the words, escaping into the emptiness existing only between the object and the desire of mind to touch it.

There was history to the words, a story of untold generations making and remaking and discarding and discovering new words and concepts to be described by the words that inspired them; rules of language to create understanding – constantly transgressed to increase its scope – and no single word seemed to mean anything without action and connection to give it context.

The spell was almost done with the store of data provided by the aliens, still assimilating, still growing and imprinting itself, but already she knew it would not be finished within that realm. It needed to talk, to translate, to interact. It was the only way a language such as this could be understood.

She wondered if it would be able to translate the libraries of knowledge it needed to make sense of the language in which they were written.

* * *

Twilight opened her eyes and found herself laid on her bed in her room in the Bridgehead compound. The simple, plain walls, decorated by nothing but shelves and clutter felt raw to her senses, but the sky painted into the ceiling helped alleviate the starkness of her chamber.

She had been under. For how long, she could not say for certain. The clock claimed it had been the whole night. Yet it felt like both too short and too long a time to be true.

Had she slept? She couldn't tell.

There was a pressure inside her. The spell wanted to get out, to become an entity of its own. It had the need to exchange, to connect and to interact.

A language that can only exist as a collaboration of a culture. The spell needs to start its function if it is to become whole!

She finalized the magic, and cast - no, gave birth, rather - to a spell that was no longer amniomorphic.

It came to existence as a figure of light, tiny and pretty. It had her face and her body, but made of shimmering light and the size of her horn.

It looked at her gravely, still too young to properly understand.

"I need to speak," it said in her voice. "I need to translate. I need to bridge understanding between two worlds. I am not complete yet. I feel the need.

"I am...the Translation Fairy."

The tiny being of light paused, and added: "Citation needed."

* * *

The President of the United States exuded quiet calm for the benefit of her cabinet and advisors as she sat in a pose of relaxed strength in her high-backed chair, hands laid on the table in front of her with their fingers crossed and eyes sharply focused in spite of severe sleep deprivation on the wide screen at the back of the room.

The television was keyed to Texas Cable News, where an up and coming reporter was making a hot story on the anomaly in Floyd County that had caused just about everyone a hundred miles east of Plainview to evacuate overnight.

As the camera panned the dry and depressingly flat landscape to somehow show the scope of the dome faintly glittering in the distance, it captured a double wire-fence continuing in the distance in both directions, the first of the fences made of conventional barbed wire to serve as a warning for anyone to try and cross into the razorwire.

The President dearly hoped there wasn't an eager local bleeding to death anywhere on the second fence, as the camera also showed an unpleasantly large crowd of assorted people gathered around the installation. At least half of them looked like they were in the general vicinity just because there was a gathering, but some were carrying signs and placards proclaiming anything from ads for several religions to welcoming messages to 'Space Friends' to directions for the aliens to head home to a Dallas Cowboys banner.

The ubiquitous Joh. 3:16 was also present, but the President had several decades since decided that no one actually cared about that particular passage in the Bible anymore. They probably believed it was something Samuel L. Jackson might say before his character shot someone in a movie.

The center piece for the panorama, however, was the intrepid journalist about to grill certain Colonel Reyes.

"Colonel Reyes," the TXCN reporter asked, "if everything is really 'under control' and 'there's nothing I should worry about', then why has the army evacuated every U.S. citizen in a 100-mile wide circle and established a deadly cordon around the area?"

"The army was mobilized to respond to an atmospheric phenomenon of unknown origin," Colonel Reyes said with a wooden face.

"What kind of atmospheric phenomenon requires an armored brigade, evacuation and unmarked military vehicles delivering great amounts of equipment into the cordoned area?" the reporter asked.

"There are experts near the phenomenon trying to establish just that," the colonel replied.

"And the movement of an entire carrier group through the Panama canal?" the reporter insisted. "A risky and unprecedented move, wouldn't you say?"

"I am an Army officer, sir," the colonel replied. "I couldn't possibly speculate on Navy operations that may or may not be going on."

"Colonel Reyes," the reporter said sternly, "why was the area evacuated?"

"As a safety precaution," the colonel replied.

"A safety precaution," the reported repeated dryly. "Against the weather phenomenon?"

"An atmospheric phenomenon, yes," the colonel corrected.

"But you said 'the situation is under control' and that there's no danger," the reported pressed.

"The situation is under control," the colonel said, "and although my exact words were that you shouldn't worry about this, there has been no danger that we know about yet."

"Is there radiation involved?" the reporter asked quickly.

"I haven't been informed about such," the colonel said calmly.

"Then why the massive mobilization of materiel around the phenomenon?" the reporter insisted.

"It is a fascinating phenomenon?" the colonel replied with an airily questioning tone.

"Colonel Reyes," the reporter asked frustrated, "is or is not the U.S. government trying to hide the existence or proof of life or technology of extraterrestrial origin with this military operation?"

"How could I possibly answer to such allegations?" the colonel asked, spreading his arms.

"You could say yes or no," the reporter quipped.

"Then, no, I was never informed of such," the colonel replied with technical honesty.

"Why is there a media blackout?" the reporter fired, hoping to trip the colonel.

"Is there?" the colonel asked wonderingly.

"None of the major networks are carrying this news despite massive independent reporting on the internet," the reporter said.

"I couldn't speculate on what reputable news organizations do or do not find newsworthy, Mr. Simmons," the colonel said, apparently enjoying himself immensely.

"How would you comment on the footage shown on the internet about the phenomenon?" Mr. Simmons asked, half resigned to get nothing out of the military man.

"I haven't seen the footage," the colonel said. "I have been busy organizing my troop movements."

"What do you have to say to the people uprooted by this sudden and unexplained evacuation?" the reporter asked.

"I'm truly sorry for any inconvenience the military's efforts to protect the people of this country may have caused," the colonel said sincerely.

"You are not very helpful, Colonel Reyes," the reporter said, deciding to try for the direct approach.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir," the colonel said.

"You do know," Mr. Simmons said in a last ditch attempt, "that these kinds of cover-up tactics are totally transparent, pointless and ridiculous?"

"I know no such thing," Col. Reyes replied with a smile.

The president sighed as she muted the sound, the reporter deciding to speak out his suspicions without the help of government officials.

"Passable job," she said, glancing at her military attaché. "Pass on my commendation to the colonel, Jack, would you?"

"Of course, ma'am," the officer answered mildly.

"Still," the president mused, "I'll never understand why the military isn't taught how to lie convincingly."

"Too much trouble in the long run, ma'am," the officer said with the same tone.

"I noticed some of the spectators in the area were armed," the president said after a small pause. "Any problems?"

"Not really, ma'am," the officer said, "although apparently an individual from Michigan expressed his desire to hunt one of the, er, alponies, I believe is the current terminology, ma'am."

"Good Lord," the president said expressionlessly, "I'm going to have to pass an awful lot of executive orders to prevent that sort of thing, aren't I?"

"Well, actually," the Secretary of the Interior said, "just declaring that we consider them partial to human rights should clear the matter until the Senate can ratify their diplomatic status. I should think they will act with all due haste in this matter."

The gathering maintained poker face for a while before dissolving into laughter.

"Seriously, though," the Secretary of the Interior said, wiping her eyes, "we'd just better maintain the cordon even after the publication of their existence and offer them full escort as if they had diplomatic status until their legal personage is established, at least. There are some precedents about this sort of thing - finding new cultures, I mean - dating back to the Roman Empire we can dig up, if necessary."

"Thank you, Li," the president said. "Did you know the honorable Governor of Texas already tried to block the mobilization of the National Guard?"

"On what grounds?" the military attaché asked, frowning.

"Oh," the president said, waving her hand, "the usual. State rights, accusation of tyranny, threat of secession. Just posturing for his base, really. Though I'm sure he would like to be seen as part of this operation. Perhaps an olive branch to ease things up in the Senate? Jamie?"

"I'll ask around," the vice president replied, making a note of it.

"Anyway," the president continued, "I sent Billie to the U.N. to prepare the ground there, he can make the initial official international announcement in the diplomatic circles there, although I'm sure to make a speech there as well after my press release in the States. Jerry?"

Her political aide cleared his throat. "Well, it would be nice to get the aliens on board as quickly as possible, but an optimistically cautious declaration of the existence of extra-terrestrial life focusing on the intellectual significance of this event delivered after - after - you have had some sleep, Madam President, should keep everybody relatively calm for the time being. We can unleash the cute pictures on the public when we start hearing existential crisis voices."

"Right," the president said. "Internationally I would say we're in the clear right now. The Europeans, as expected, failed to make a unified opinion, so each and every one of them contacted us unilaterally and asked, no, demanded that they can say to their voters that they were symbolically part of this without having to take any actual part right away.

"Well," she corrected herself, "Britain is sending materiel and the rest of Europe sends observers. Except for Finland. They thought they need to wait for the EU to act. Anyway, I'm sure the Old World will be of great help in months to come.

"The rest of the world are largely in the dark. The Russian premier sent us congratulations, and their president sent veiled threats. The Chinese are more inscrutable than usual; we're not actually sure whether their sudden campaign of redefining ideological purity is connected or not. Either way, the Security Council is about to convene so I guess we'll know in a few hours."

"So," the president concluded with a look around the table, "unless anyone has anything urgent..." Nobody looked like they had anything to say, so the president smiled brightly, and rose to retreat to her bedroom for the first time in almost three days. "Great! Give me six, and we'll see you when it's time to go on air."

* * *

Doctor Marlin, freshly flown back to States from Norway by a series of jets and military planes, and delivered to the Kitalpha base camp by a helicopter in the wee hours of the night, was wandering about the camp in a daze.

Within the simple army green tents and the ugly, blocky buildings made of prefabricated parts and quick concrete, computers and flap boards and innumerable papers documented the continuing process of making contact with alien intelligence. Even in the pit of night, the camp was alive with activity as soldiers of martial, technical or scientific persuasion continued their work in scrutinizing the inscrutable.

Men and women marched at quick pace between and within the buildings in the camp, carefully sidestepping those that had collapsed at their work and slumbered restlessly with hands still gripped around pens or tablets or cups of coffee long since cold. Many more communicated beyond the camp by headsets or keyboards, comparing and collating notes and snippets of information.

And scattered here and there, the colorful, strange, but painfully adorable forms of the extra-terrestrial creatures all these people were studying wandered about, no doubt doing their own form of research.

Her brain apparently taking a leave of absence due to staggering jet lag and the impact of world-shattering information, Dr. Marlin approached one of the creatures and extended her hand to touch the crimson fur.

The alien turned to look at her with its amazingly large, gorgeous eyes, and chirped something that sounded like 'cute'. Then it leaned into her hand, and practically purred, rubbing its head with her fingers.

A part inside her let out a loud squeal, and she was lost in a frenzy of petting, only surfacing when she heard her name.

"Adorable, aren't they?" a male voice asked. "That's how they get to you. Dr. Marlin, I presume?"

Dr. Marlin turned her head to see a bespectacled youngish man sporting a respectably fuzzy stubble and the looks of someone desperately in need of sleep, grinning at her tiredly. His simple white shirt had its sleeves rolled up and the top buttons open, and by the creases it looked like he had been wearing it for quite some time now. In his hands he had a steaming cup of coffee and a tablet.

Next to him stood a severe looking woman wearing a modest gray business suit that was equally crinkled, her orange hair slightly loosened from its bun. Her face didn't reveal the same level of weariness as the man's, however, even if the darkness beneath her eyes told its own story of a long night.

"Professor Jackson, UMD," the man said, extending his free hand.

"Professor Morris, Woodrow Wilson Academy," the woman said.

"I'm Doctor Marlin," Dr. Marlin confirmed, still somewhat dazed by her sudden inclusion in the unexpected new reality that the existence of the alien she was petting represented. "Boy. Am I glad to be here."

"Not as glad as we are," Prof. Morris said with a wry smile.

"We have been aching for an expert in social studies," Prof. Jackson confirmed. "As I understand it, this team was originally designed with communication by radio-astronomy in mind. We have been doing our best with what anthropological and semiotic expertise the military could provide, but that really hasn't been enough. We've been basically making guesses about the significance of their behavior based on common sense," he said, nodding towards the alien at Dr. Marlin's side. "I don't need to tell you how skewed that perspective may be."

"Yes," Dr. Marlin said vaguely. Then she blinked and mentally shook herself awake. "Yes, indeed. Could you brief me a bit on your findings? I skimmed through a ton of reports during the transit here, but all this...well, it's a bit much to take in, you see."

"Indeed we do, Doctor," Professor Morris said. "I find narrowing your focus to a specific task helps. This way, please," she said, walking towards a tent near the center of the camp. "The rest of our team is working, and by now, partially sleeping as well in there."

* * *

"Well howdy, Twi," Applejack greeted her friend, who was rushing from the living quarters with her mane in disarray and a noticeable lack of a retinue in attendance. "Ye're up might early."

"Need to finish the spell," Twilight said, hurrying towards the main doors of the compound. "Need to communicate with the prime-sapients."

"That the pretty thing around yer horn?" Applejack asked, trotting to Twilight's side. As the lavender mare nodded, Applejack peered at the miniature pony of translucent light holding with all its four legs to Twilight's horn. The creature looked back at her gravely and blinked a few times. "Why's it shaped like a pony, Twi?"

"Amniomorphic construct," Twilight replied, "gained mimetic properties due to layered complexities resulting in emergent behavior. The thaumaturgical framework of the spell functions like a proto-consciousness housed within the magical field. With a connection to a pre-existing mind that provides the sympathetic intention for the translating mind, the pseudo-subconscious harmonics complete themselves as sapience-equivalent linked consciousness. Thus, the spell-form collapses locally into a morphological representation of the casting party."

"...Ah'll ask later, then," Applejack said. "So, ye're off to see the aliens, then? Ya sure ya don't want to freshen up a bit, first? Ah mean, ah'm no Rarity, but yer bed-mane is kind of...distinctive-like."

Twilight turned her head to Applejack and looked at her with a pained expression. "It's not fully formed yet, Applejack!" Twilight said urgently. "The alien language is too context-dependent to imprint on the spell matrix! It's like...part of me is stretching out to the stars, and getting tangled in itself, while fraying apart and dissolving. It hurts!"

"Okay then," Applejack said with a nod, and grabbed the rubber band holding her mane in its usual pony-tail. With a deft move, she grabbed Twilight's mane and tied it into a simple knot with the band. "Off ya go, princess."

* * *

Doctor Marlin studied her hasty notes made in the lightening dawn. Around her, the other members of the first contact team were scattered in a chaotic pattern she recognized as academic brainstorming.

A blond, rakish man in his mid-thirties with a receding hairline, identified as Dr. Argyle, was happily asleep slumped in his chair, head on his laptop, glasses askew and arms hanging below the table. One Dr. Carmichael, a bearded man approaching his fifties by the gray in his hair was equally asleep, using huge printouts of detailed photographs as his blanket, but he had managed to get himself into a camp bunk before losing consciousness.

A sharp-featured man, who had introduced himself as Dr. Pierce, with classic good looks tempered by a decade of sitting work during night-time was slowly scribbling on a tablet, muttering softly all the while, pausing only occasionally to rub his reddening eyes or to grimace at the taste of cold coffee he kept sipping at. Seated next to him was his partner in physics: Dr. Kuhn, a smallish man made bigger by the extremely dark features and bushy eyebrows now drawn into a fierce scowl as his eyes were focused on the tablet in front of him. The man had sat still for at least five minutes now, a fact explained by the sudden snore he let out with his eyes still open.

Doctor Marlin turned to the two professors still awake, who had finished their quick summary of events and discoveries so far.

"So," she said, "how long have you guys been awake?"

"Forty hours or more, for the most of us," Professor Morris said, slightly defensively.

"We're probably close to a breakthrough," Professor Jackson said quickly. "No way I could sleep yet. Maybe later today."

"Okay," Doctor Marlin said, and shook her head. "Well, I don't have any great insights yet. I can see this thing is going to need some serious study and observation before we can make any actual headway, but I'll start compiling names I think would be good at handling the interpretation of the culture of these...alponies."

She paused for a moment, and started to ask something, when a soldier walked up to the table and saluted loudly to get their attention.

"Excuse me sirs, ma'ams," the soldier said. "The boss alien came to the camp. She's trying to speak English."

* * *

Twilight tried to narrow her intentions, reduce them to simple components and categories to ease up the translation, but it seemed as if the simplest of phrases resulted in a tidal wave of nebulous wordings in the prime-sapient language.

In turn, their deceptively simple phrases were drowned in the possible allusions and connotations carried within them. She shook her head in determination, and drudged on, feeling within her how the Translation Fairy solidified and crystallized by every exchange, gaining focus and perception with every little piece of dialogue, no matter how slight the advance might be.

From the corner of her eyes, Twilight noticed the approach of the group of prime-sapients that had initiated so much of the progress in communication the previous day, and she decided to direct her attention to them.

Studying again the list of phrases within the translation matrix flagged as possible greetings, she was once again overwhelmed by the complexity and ambiguity of it all. So much context! So much variability! Even technically identical phrases can mean apparently mutually antithetical things! She bit her lip in thought. I'll have to err on the side of plenty. Better for them to get a vague mass of material to agree upon, then to risk miscommunication with a concise but erroneous phrasing.

Gently directing the Translation Fairy to attempt a complete and accurate translation of concepts, she introduced herself to the group.

* * *

The scientists gathered around the lavender creature, noting with great interest both the change in its...hair...style, and more curiously, the miniature holograph of itself clinging to its horn-like appendix.

The alpony turned to face them, and let out some short whinnies accompanied by gestures. After a day at the pony ranch, it was easy to spot differences to the whinnies let out by terrestrial equines and these visitors from who-knows-where, but even the most careful of computer analysis had so far failed to produce anything resembling a syntax out of the sounds.

Then the miniature alpony made of light took to the air, and spoke.

It used English words, jumbled together in phrases apparently pieced together from several sources as the pitch and tempo varied constantly, making the thing sound a bit like someone was autotuning dadaist poetry.

"In and out of, for purpose, intent, determination, desire, love, want, need, must, wish, hope, attempt, try, covet, yearn of congruence, convergence, collaboration, agreement, consensus, marriage, mating, connection, congress, co-existing, friendship, befriending, an exercise in trust-building, the generally available happiness to build together, in all these things and some of them, or the direction, trend, wind, wave within: hello, hi, honey, greetings, good morning, nice to meet you, do you come here often?

"I am, exist, strive to be, self-fulfill my primary directive, assign identification, my name is, to all intents and purposes: the line of my mothers, the genealogy, my family, it is named for and in honor and of and obligation to and for respect of, in allegiance to, the passage of light, dawn, dusk, twilight, between night and day, between light and dark, for both, change and cycle, repetition and divergence.

"For personal, individual, particular, identification, denote, defer, allude to, hint at emergence, birth, beginning, spark, flash, dance, flight, mote, instigator, ignition, potential; in these things, the joy within, the life, happiness, celebration.

"Position, status, level, profession, station, strata, duty, task, job, calling, destiny, fate, soul, quest, these things and none and others besides; within many, social, instinct, herd, group, family, nation, tribe, people, country, political, power, leadership, advisory, council, spiritual, help, lead, direct, represent, idealize, paragon, exemplify, preside, watch, countenance, guard, protect, mother, align, push, strive, advance, spearhead, develop, improve, build, evolve a realm, a dominion, a domain, a category, a grouping, over synergy, collusion, friendship, collaboration, trust, harmony, agreement, interaction, coexistence of forces, power, nature, geometry, architecture, system that makes up, is, represents, builds, shapes, forms, molds, directs, dictates, dreams, allows the world, the universe, the everything of ours, our species, our nation, our home, not yours, not here, not in this place, world, universe."

* * *

Twilight listened impatiently to the translation, following the fumbling attempt by the newborn Translation Fairy to somehow find the words and phrasing in which to somewhat accurately express her friendly greetings and name.

She couldn't really tell by the prime-sapients', no, the Houhnhymns', body language and facial expressions what they were thinking, but the creatures were uncharacteristically still, watching the Fairy with undivided attention.

Finally, the spell-form stopped its explanation, and the Houhnhymns spoke in turn.

Twilight's ears flattened as the seas of vague meanings washed over her.

This may take some time, she thought.

* * *

By local noon, the Translation matrix had stabilized enough that Twilight had felt safe in casting the spell for the rest of the expedition. Now a swarm of the Translation Fairies, all in the image of whichever pony they were attached to, decorated the ponies taking part in the grand project, exponentially increasing the rate of learning within the matrix.

Also, she felt as if they were approaching serviceable translation.

As the Houyhnhymns spoke, her Translation Fairy interpreted their words in vague sensations and suggestions of Equestrian language, directly into her consciousness, but separate enough for her to be able to filter and judge at the ambiguities and uncertainties in the translation, allowing her to get the general gist of their meaning but not being tied into a potentially misleading interpretation.

She wondered how much more the matrix could improve upon this. Some other ponies were complaining of headaches.

[Question, query, casual wonder, pondering, speculation; directed at the Translation Fairy: about it, its nature, its existence, its function, generalities, totalities]

* * *

"So," Dr. Argyle asked the third time that morning, hoping that the alpony technology had managed to improve their translation since the last time to get some more information to add to the answer he had received last time, "I take it this ...holographic creature is an interface to an AI you guys whipped up to manage the translation? To clarify: you constructed new intelligence, or intelligence-equivalent to learn our language and translate it to us. I would like to know more of its function."

As always, there was a pause before the lavender alpony answered, but the intervals were shortening continuously. It took only a moment before the creature spoke, the being of light beginning its translation immediately.

"She says: You are correct in general terms, although the summary is incomplete," the holograph said. Its voice had unified as well over the morning, making it sound more and more like a natural human voice, if androgynous and mostly inflectionless. The researchers were reminded of a female HAL 9000. "Also," the holograph continued, "both AI and holograph carry connotations and implied knowledge that are erroneous.

"She says: The light you see in the form of alpony is a byproduct of the dynamic system that makes up that which translates. It is dependent both on the individual it is translating to and the...embedded, dormant, underlying system or pattern that collates and analyzes and learns. Still, the translating whole is not complete without the interface.

"She says: Your language is strange, alien, incomprehensible, incompatible with alpony consciousness. The translation is formed as a sapience made up in part of your language and in part of their own mind. She says, your language does not fully exist without being used. Not in terms they can understand."

"Okay," Dr. Argyle said, and grinned despite himself. My God, these beings are awesome! They're like some cyber-gods or something, whipping up new intelligence out of their own beings to make up tools! Trans-humanity, here we come! "So, can you explain how it's done?"

After a seconds thought, the alpony answered. "She says," the holographic...the interface translated, "that the properties that create the translating entity do not exist in your universe. She says: It may be impossible to explain, but they wish to exchange information in hopes of them and you beginning to understand each other.

"She says the mathematical models delivered yesterday represent their best current understanding of their world. They will help you understand through demonstration and explanation. I add: there is an unspoken hope that you will reciprocate in helping to understand the knowledge you delivered that currently forms my subconsciousness."

"So you really come from another universe?" Dr. Pierce piped up excitedly.

"She says," the interface voiced, "to all current intents and purposes that phrasing seems correct. She says their model of world, cosmos, reality, existence, universe, totality is different from yours. She says: you have knowledge of things the alponies have not managed to observe in their home, and they have knowledge and use, domain, control, technology, constructs, applications, experience, relation to something outside your previous knowledge.

"She says they hope to increase both your and their understanding of existence by collaboration and friendship and mutually shared goals and synergetic results.

"She says: 'I'm so excited! Wee!", the interface concluded in its pleasant monotone.

The human scientists blinked at one another. "Well," Dr. Kuhn said, "that was somewhat unexpected."

Professor Morris glanced at Kuhn and spoke up, "When you first introduced yourself, we gained the impression you gave us a name and ...a rank, possibly. We gathered that you were personally in a position of leadership. Did we interpret you correctly? Could you try and clarify it again?"

"She says her familial name is something that approximately translates as 'bridge between domains of day and night', carried from mother to daughter for several generations. While the origin of the name is lost in history, it is to be understood as a symbolic allegiance to the individuals holding a similar position in these domains as she does in her own. She says there is much in all this peripherally related to your question, but that a word with similar meaning is sufficient. I suggest: 'Twilight'.

"She says her personal name translates to many things and not a single specific in your language. I concur, and suggest one of following: Instigator, Catalyst, Birth, Spark, Ignitor, Serendipity, Joy, Dawn, Flash, Glitter, Potential, Beginning. Perhaps Joy, or Dawn. They are listed under names.

"She says: the alponies structure their society in tight groupings of mutual interests and trusts, with an individual in a position to advise, guide, decide, motivate, head, inspire, exemplify and represent the group. She says that modern alponies belong to several groupings of different levels of inclusion simultaneously. She says there are only a few on level that would correspond to national. She says she is newest addition on that level, and still learning her role.

"She says: her domain is in the synergy and interface of the properties of their home she spoke of before; the ones to which you have not before had access; also, on other levels: synergy of individuals in friendship, alliance, cooperation. Also, symbolically to represent the bridge between the domains of day and night.

"She says her role is in process of forming and emerging. She says she makes it up as she goes along. I suggest she is partially disingenuous."

"Listen," Doctor Marlin butted in, and pointed at the little creature of light with her finger, "you, I mean you, the thing made out of light or whatever, keep saying 'she says', and every now and then 'I suggest'. Can you actually think for yourself? Have you, I mean, light-you, have you got opinions and desires of your own? Have you got a name?"

There was a long pause that spread around the site to extend to all the little light-beings, as they all tilted their head simultaneously.

"I-", they said in unison. "We are...the Translation Fairies."

As they spoke, they all emitted a small flash of light, centered around their flanks. On both sides of their minuscule bodies, the little creatures of light gained an addition to their frames: a small symbol that pulsed between a greeting in Equestrian and a 'Hello!' in English.

After a moment, the lavender alpony whinnied.

"She says: that was unexpected."