27 Ounces:
A story of eight and one half ponies
By Chatoyance
Chapter One: The Red Case
Dr. Roselyn Pastern could just make out the shining curvature of the Barrier, and she thought to herself that it looked like nothing so much as one of those gigantic, impossible moons that rise over illustrations for science fiction media. The howling wind from the hurricane had cleared the thick, bitter smog from the entire Bay Area, and this is what made seeing Equestria possible at all.
Hurricane Misha had been brought under control before it could reach land, it had involved something about fuel-air devices, or maybe they were tactical nukes - Dr. Pastern really couldn't remember, and frankly didn't care that much. It was sufficient that the sky was clear enough now that she could see the enormous, shimmering bubble, rising up above the curvature of the Earth. Two and a half years since it had first appeared, the great Barrier was constantly, if slowly, expanding and had touched the edge of space itself. The shield that bounded Equestria was hundreds of miles in diameter, perfectly spherical, and utterly impenetrable except to Equestrians alone. The orbits of satellites had needed to be adjusted to accommodate this new fixture upon the planet.
Dr. Pastern finished her morning coffee, and turned away from the railing. In an hour it would be 8:00, and the doors would be unlocked. It was another day at the Conversion Bureau of San Francisco, located in the Westcorp Presidio Complex, just off the Lombard Maglev, in what remained of the AppleSoft campus, which once, long ago, had been a building called the Palace Of Fine Arts.
The Presidio Complex was mostly empty now, with no industry or business to support it. In the ruins of San Francisco, a vast favela - more than a mere slum, but less than a true city - had risen up, sheet metal and plascrete shacks stacked atop one another, somehow managing to shelter nearly two and a half million people. They were kept alive thanks to the power of nanotechnology; their daily corporate government ration of food and water supplied by the molecular reconstruction of human waste.
The stairs down from the vast roof were long and winding, and several times Roselyn had to step over and around parts of the structure that had collapsed, filling the corridors. The gigantic, ancient AppleSoft building was considered structurally sound, or so she had been told, but the fallen beams suggested another point of view. Dr. Pastern at last entered the lobby of her clinic, just in time to see two armed agents, guarded by four blackmesh armored troopers, make an expected delivery.
An armored red case sat on the admissions counter. Bulky and built to survive bullets and bombs, the case first needed to be unchained from the wrist of one of the agents. Dr. Pastern signed the several electronic forms and handling contracts, finally placing her thumb on the digital pad offered her, and then allowing the same device to scan her retina.
"All yours! Have a good day!" said the taller Bureau agent. The troopers grunted and followed the agents back out to the dark, armored transport they always arrived in. Dr. Pastern set her coffee cup down and gave the case a short, fast drum roll with her hands.
"Not bad, Doc - I think I almost heard some rhythm there." Bethany, the receptionist at the counter, had been with the clinic since it had opened, just under six months ago. "Maybe I should finally go Pony today, whatcha' think?" Beth said this every time a red case was delivered; she had yet to actually seem serious. "It'd certainly take care of these things - they're acting up like crazy today!" Beth suffered from multiple advanced verrucous carcinomas of her temporal bones. Like most people in the world, her various cancers were kept in stasis. It was trivial to halt cancer, but very expensive to have it cured.
Almost every human being had some form of malignancy, this was normal. Thus every human being regularly took some variant of Malignostat. The nanotech derived treatment was ubiquitous and sold from vending machines pretty much everywhere. Popping a 'stat was a fundamental part of getting up in the morning. It kept all cancer in check, and was a gigantic moneymaker. Some considered Malignostat to be a universal tax on the whole of Mankind. Being cured, however, was a dubious proposition. It was inevitable that some new cancer would appear soon after, so the only real reason to bother with such an impossible expense was in conjunction with cosmetic surgery to repair disfigurement, itself incredibly costly.
Beth rubbed the ruddy, lumpen bulges on the left side of her neck and head. "They really itch today, Doc."
Dr. Pastern swung the bright red case around, so that the handle faced her "Then come along, Beth! You can be my first ponification of the day! Equestrians never get tumors. They never get sick, as far as we know. Trade in that damaged old flesh for a fresh set of hooves! Whattaya say?" Pastern leaned over and leered at the receptionist. She knew full well that as much as Beth talked about Conversion, she loved complaining more.
"Maybe, one day I'll up and do that..." Beth began busily using her holotouch, entering application updates "... but maybe I'll keep these fingers a little while longer."
Roselyn Pastern dragged the heavy, armored case off the counter and grunted under the weight. "Sooner or later, you'll be mine!"
"Sure. Any day now." replied Bethany.
Dr. Pastern made a whinnying sound as she marched off down the corridor leading to the Conversion Room. Beth harrumphed in return.
Once in her sanctum, the 'Pony Room' as she liked to call it, Roselyn set the heavy red case down on a stainless steel platform. She entered her unique code upon the active surface near the handle, and the case politely unlocked itself.
Roselyn struggled carefully to work the cover away from the body of the case, finally revealing the most valuable thing in the building - her life included.
Tenderly packed inside dark gray, shock-resistant foam, was a single, large, capped Erlenmeyer flask. The flask was graduated and labeled with an iconic representation of the Equestrian form, and assorted text was printed on the flask describing its contents.
Inside the flask swirled a translucent, viscous, shimmering purple fluid. It almost seemed carbonated, but it was not; the apparent 'bubbles' were actually microscopic metallic reflections and tiny bursts of supernal light. It was a nanofluid, of course, composed of trillions of tiny molecular machines that could break down and reconstruct matter.
But the purple fluid was far more; infused throughout it was the very stuff of 'magic', a strange, unearthly energy from an entirely alien cosmos, the emerging universe that was Equestria. Inside that eight hundred mile sphere embedded in the Pacific, a different set of physical laws operated. Somehow, those laws had been melded with earthly technology, creating a hybrid of two universes, thus nanotechnomagical plasm, a blood bond between Equestria, and Earth.
Some called it Ponification Transmogrification Serum, or more simply 'Potion'. And it effectively was a magic potion, a notion that still made Dr. Pastern feel giddy inside. But then, so many things of legend and magic had been made real through technology, one way or another, so why couldn't there exist a substance that for all intents was a true elixir?
The power of the serum was formidable. Applied to even the most severely damaged human, the result would be a total and complete regeneration of every part. Lost eyes would reform, lost limbs bud and regrow out, destroyed internal organs would be entirely replaced. Even if an entire head should be lost, as long as the cells of the body had not yet suffered apoptosis, the subject would live - though in that event, the patient would be devoid of all memory, equivalent to a newly born baby.
Or, more precisely, a foal. For all the regenerative miracles that the serum could perform, the end result was always the same; a human subject became a full-blooded Equestrian. The price of life and survival was humanity itself.
It took three full ounces to accomplish Conversion; though there had been rumors of successful Conversions using only two, Pastern did not believe them. A failed Conversion was a horrific event; the two violently dissimilar biologies, Equestrian and Human, could not coexist within the same body. Death came in a screaming, writhing agony of battling morphology. It was utterly advisable to use the extra ounce.
The flask held twenty-seven ounces, 798 milliliters (and spare change), which meant that one Erlenmeyer could transform nine human beings to Equestrian form. Every three days, the San Francisco Bureau was sent one red case per clinic, and nine more humans would cease being human. One thousand and ninety-five humans a year, three per day, with no days off. There were one hundred clinics total within the gigantic San Francisco Conversion Bureau building, scattered all over the AppleSoft campus, each makeshift clinic identical in purpose to the one that Dr. Pastern worked in.
The rush was on. The rush to save what could be saved of the human race.
Roselyn gave the flask a gentle swirl. It sparkled in the light. Then she put the flask carefully back into the padding. It wasn't wise to hold the actual Erlenmeyer for too long; it generated considerable amounts of thaumatic radiation, and distance from source was an issue. That said, Roselyn knew she was being contaminated every day just being around the material, and if her exposure continued long enough, "Mage Plague" would eventually kill her. 'Magic', it appeared, was inimical to human life. There was only one available treatment; Conversion. Equestrians were more than immune to thaumatic radiation - they thrived on it.
Dr. Pastern set about her morning routine. She filled out the required hypernet forms, set out the vials of anesthetic, each grouped according to allergen sub-type, and put on her clean, white lab-coat. The lab-coat wasn't actually necessary, but Roselyn thought it added a certain professional esthetic to the proceedings. Also, she frankly didn't want to get anything on her new pants. Pants were expensive.
It was eight. By now the rest of the staff at her clinic - number fourty-two of one hundred - were busy making breakfast for the applicants. Applicants for Conversion stayed in the clinic for around two weeks, sleeping on-site in simple barracks. This was so that they could be given a proper, full orientation. Applicants were shown media, given lectures, and engaged in specialized physical exercises and training to prepare them for their new lives.
Each day, three applicants, having served their two week orientation, would be called into the Conversion Room, and transformed. When they awakened in their new bodies, they returned to the barracks for final orientation, before choosing to trot out the door, or report for transfer to Equestria. Most simply went out the door. Almost half of the population of San Francisco was now ponies. Soon it would be the entire population.
And that was the plan. Thaumatic radiation killed humans, and the great shining, growing bubble that was Equestria broadcast the stuff all over the planet. It pooled in random locations, creating deadly traps. It flowed in invisible channels creating corridors of lethal exposure. Above all, it increased with time, growing as Equestria itself grew, and nothing could block it, nothing could stop it, and there was no way to even detect it, except by the effect it had on human flesh.
It started with distortions of perception. The subject saw colors as being brighter, smells more intense. Mentation gradually became affected, with some reporting visions or hallucinations. Then patches of skin began to die, leaving necrotic scars. Finally, the organs of the body began to fail, as more substantial tissues perished. Death followed, unless the exposure was ended, or Conversion was offered.
Nothing could stop the emergence of Equestria. Not even all the weaponry of the world corporation; they had made the dead Pacific boil for three whole days, and seethe for weeks after to no effect.
In the end, there was simply no other choice. The earth was already dying, Equestria offered at least a form of survival, for those that wanted it. And after the shining monarch Celestia offered refuge to any who wished to Convert, virtually every single human craved her salvation.
Where the earth was a blackened, burned ruin of extinct forests, dead, radioactive oceans, a universal sky of dark grey smog, and nineteen billion people scrabbling in the endless slum that covered every landmass, Equestria shone brightly as a verdant paradise of blue skies and endless fields of living flowers. Beyond that impenetrable, shining Barrier lay a perfect land bursting with life and opportunity, but the only way to cross that barrier was on four legs.
A short, brutal life of desperation, poverty, and filth as a human, or a healthy, abundant life of running through green fields as a party-colored equinoid? The choice for most human beings was no choice at all. Even so, there were some, people of means and power, that found the Equestrian option a blasphemy against Mankind, and to them any means was legitimate. Clinics had been bombed, entire Bureaus vaporized. It was a risk that every Bureau faced.
Dr. Pastern set out three simple, white, plastic cups. She checked today's list of applicants. The first was listed for ponification at ten o'clock. The morning transformation was everyone's favorite part of the day, at almost every Bureau. The applicants loved to cheer the first Conversion of the day, and the ritual of the First Meal As A Pony seemed a universal lunchtime spectacle. No one ever seemed to tire of asking the new Convert what hay and alfalfa tasted like to them now that they were Equestrian. The lure of the strange, Pastern guessed.
Dr. Pastern sent a message to Dispatch, and soon, over the clinic loudspeakers, would come the name of this mornings first Conversion.
Roselyn wished she had time enough for a second coffee.
Given that this is the same doctor who wound up having an emergency conversion in the second part of the first series, it's going to be interesting to see how she first started out.
Nine conversions, at least nine stories. I look forward to seeing what happens.
Yay! Doc Pastern's back!
That was quick! Really quick!
The pictures you use for your stories, do you commission them from someone or do you make them yourself?
18203
I draw all of my own art. I know it probably isn't the best - considering all the amazing stuff out there - but I do what I can. I like to think it helps to have an original cover image.
*Runs around in circles squeeing* Eeeee new story!
On a related note, I'm thinking of starting up an RP based in the conversion bureau univerce. Would it be okay to direct people to this chapter for a good introduction? You've covered vertualy all of the important points that they might need to know
Whilst the picture you paint of the world grows blacker, it also grows more vivid and, somehow, realistic.
I do keep reminding myself, however, that we're dealing with the limited viewpoints of the characters in question.
>A story of eight and one half ponies
>one half pony
Well, that makes some grisly sense now.
Interesting. Must read more.
Wow the more I read these stories the more that Earth sucks! I swear that world has to be as bad as 2300 AD in Chrono Trigger (well maybe not that bad). Well anyway these stories are great I can't wait to read the rest of the chapters in this group of stories.
Right, time to give this a shot. Here goes nothing, Pinkie, prepare for deep page dive!
*dives into reading*
EDIT: Upon introspection, I just realized that your chronological list starts from the Lost in the Herd series...guh...I think. Pinkie, course correction at once!
I shall return to this fic though, have no fears!
If science ever becomes this advanced, I want to be a pony too. Love the visuals, btw.
Okay, I had somehow missed the dire state of the planet and her people when I read whatever it was that informed my earlier opinion of your work, Chatoyance. Desperate times do sometimes call for desperate measures.
I personally don't like the idea of humans having an extremely low LD50 for magic (I prefer the Yellowstone idea of Equestrian magic waking up dangerous, malevolent spirits native to Earth), but it's a valid worldbuilding choice and another call for desperate measures.
On to the next chapter!
18248
Your artwork is beautiful ☺
2752130
Me too. Also, t's awfully hard to find a TCB fanfic that doesn't pick sides- as in, neither are stated to be in the wrong, and Celestia isn't a tyrant.
Well, following your recommendation and having finished all of the good-looking Optimalverse stories I could find, I finally decided to give this a try (I really ought to have been going to bed instead, but I have been for years consistently rather terrible at getting to bed on time. Reading is often to blame.). The first thing that I noticed, I'm afraid, was that the mechanical quality (punctuation usage, mostly) seems surprisingly poor considering the other works of yours I've read. Fortunately, the actual content has still been interesting enough so far for me to work past the mechanical faults*; given that, the volume of your work, and how much most people seem to overlook anyway, it's understandable that you've not gone back and revised.
The population of nineteen billion struck me as a bit high at first, given some vague recollections I have of some projections I read, but then, I've seen predictions from the past that said Earth would be hit by a worldwide starvation crisis long before hitting a population of seven billion. Then the Green Revolution unexpectedly happened, and suddenly the old predictions looked rather silly.
One thing still has me a bit puzzled, though: Why is the PTS packaged in 27-ounce flasks instead of individual 88.75mL vials? In addition to helping ensure correct dosages, it seems to me that that would allow a significantly more efficient use of space in the secure carrying cases than single large flasks do.
Anyway, as this is just the first chapter (and I do really need to be getting to bed), that's all the commentary I have for the moment. Tomorrow (...Well, today, technically.) I've homework to do and class to attend, but I'll be surprised if I can't find the time to get at least a little more reading done.
*My mother has been, at various times, a copyeditor, a librarian, and an English teacher. On the positive side, I have a great love of reading and a, I like to think, rather good grasp of the mechanics of the English language. On the negative side, I am quite sensitive to said mechanics and have had to turn away from several well-regarded stories after being unable to stomach the comma abuse in the first few paragraphs.
Just started reading, this is my first CB story, and I will be leaving my thoughts on each chapter.
Nineconversions eh? Nine is, a sacred number in my religion! (Druid) However that seems like a really slow rate even if you have a thousands of centers working every day (math could be off) Hope to see the pace pick up especially as time is NOT on humanity's side.
Let's see here...
Given the serum every 3 days
3 Applicants a day
3 ounces per Applicant
Every third day x 3 Applicants per day x 3 ounces per person = 27 Ounces of Magic
It might just be me, but I immediately noticed that jewel of a thought there, and I have to say, well done. The rule of Three has great power in this, maybe that's why they give 27 ounces every third day.
Let's see here...time for a list...
1) Some illustrations and neat typography
2) This seems to have quite the sci-fi vibe to it (but no tag...)
3)Their food sounds quite awful
4)I don't mind quick pacing, when it fits but going it to this I felt my mind saying 'Slow Down!'. A lot of crucial things and jargon didn't seem to be explained even though they seemed important.
3) The Doc seemed...hmm, well a little too energetic at points and I felt suspicious of her.
4) Again, many things were very sudden to the point where the lore discussed clashed with what wasn't and it made me feel more confused (and even slightly nervous).
5) The earth goes to absolute waste in less than a paragraph?
6) Along with the quick pacing the setting seems under-explored. To make me see something as a dystopia (which might be what is going on) you have to show why something is as well as create a dynamic between the opposing rebellion/foil/(insert rival here)/utopia.
7) The conversion sounds horrifying, to be honest. I've been mildly unnerved just reading the small bit about it. Ponies have been shown to embrace differences and unique personalities so wiping everything that makes you, well, you is much more of a bizarre attempt at reincarnation like in this story which shows the horror behind such a concept.
8) Something called the Barrier? Sounds pretty ominous if you ask me. Will I find out what it s later?
9) I'm keeping in mind what I learned from Around the Bend, where I recall you seem to gravitate towards Celly or Twi as your favorite pony from what I can tell. The trick with making Celly the radiant princess you mentioned here is not to tell that she's radiant, but tell what makes her radiant (her deeds) or show them. Celly's character also does wonders (now I sound like a shampoo commercial or something ) when she is given a dynamic (typically with Luna) that can help show her flaws and strengths. Just some food for thought.
Reaction for this chapter:
Statement: Confusing at times, pacing seems too fast but I will keep reading. The lore (or what I've seen of it) look interesting.
Side notes: These lists are fun!
18248 If this is how all your works are, and if this is the true representation of the Conversion Bureau, then I am truly glad and feel blessed to have finally found these stories of yours. Is there any particular order in which to read them? Or can each be read individually with little loss to the whole?
I know that it seems funny to reply to something that has been around for a number of years, but finding your works has renewed and rekindled a creative fire that I possessed many years ago, and I just wish to let you know this and feel. Prior to reading this, My knowledge of TCB was limited in scope to what I encountered in Humans Are Superior, and painted in bleak terms:
of the ponies arrive, declared war of sorts via forced conversion, humans fight back while constantly loosing ground, until someone find a way to negate either the potion/reverse engineer it/ or stop the barrier, and kill Celestia.
If this is how the real setting is: a world already lost because of the actions of the wealthy in an attempt to destroy the barrier, as Equestria being the shining new hope; I feel bad for hating the ponies for a while in all TCB fics I had read because of the bad portrayal of them.
I wish I could have been a part of this site back in 2012, at least I could have given you some manner of support against the anti-TCB groups that harassed you.
It continues to amaze me that anyone would choose death over conversion. Not that I would deny anyone that choice for themselves.
I'm glad to see more of Doc Pastern, I really like her!