Chapter 18. Scrapmetal
Sweetie awoke to the sound of heavy machinery.
She did not know how long she had been out, or what had happened to her in the meantime. She had been locked in herself. Crying, and waiting for her body to pull itself back together.
When her eyes reactivated, she was greeted with the sight of a wasteland. Piles of all kinds of imaginable rusty junk stretched out into the rainy darkness.
She must be in a junkyard. This must be where the ponies with the wagon must have taken her. They must have assumed that she was just a pile of junk that they had ran over on the road.
As she watched, the rows of junk flowed past her. Like rusty icebergs flowing down a muddy river. Like tombstones over all things broken and lost. things that had been repaired until they could be repaired no more, Or maybe simply thrown out and replaced with something newer and better.
“So it is here that all things metal ended their lives." she thought as she looked out across the scrapyard. Only ponies received proper burials. Mechanical things were left to rust in heaps in the rain.
Not her though. She did not belong amongst any junk. She would not let this be her fate. She would live forever. She would continue to exist. It was her prime directive or something.
She tried to get up. But her body would not move. For a second she wondered if she was still paralyzed, but her systems told her that her body wasn't broken any more. The connection ports in her neck had been restored and she could feel her body once more. Feel as the electricity ruched up from her battery and provided her mind with the juice it needed to think.
Think about that piles of junk does not float like icebergs, Or that there was no river for anything to be floating in. The rain might have converted the dirt field between the piles into a muddy soup. But it was still solid ground.
Her place however, was not solid. She lay not in that muddy soup. Her spirit-level balance system was shaking and her ears picked up a grinding of wheels and machinery.
No. The junk piles weren't moving – she was.
Sweetie turned her head around, her newly repaired neck only produced a slight creak as she did so, and she found herself staring up at a mountain of debris.
It became instantly clear why she could not move. She lay at the base of a massive pile of rusty, industrial sized pile of rubble. Trapped, with only her head sticking out.
She turned her head the other way, and found herself staring down a long black belt. At several intervals laid even more piles of junk. And beyond them, at the end of the belt was the giant maw of a machine. A machine with two giant cylinders full of teeth. Cylinders that spun around and chewed up anything that fell into its maw.
With horror she realized where she was. On an conveyor belt. Heading straight for that gaping maw of death. Just like Rampony Mactails had been in that movie when he encountered his first Bloodbot on the scrapyard he worked at. It had been the movies first jump scare when the metallic beast jumped out of a junk pile and tackled Rampony onto the conveyor belt, where the two ended up wrestling.
“I am not junk. You are!” He had shouted as he threw the bot of him and into the grinding maw. He had swiftly and smoothly rolled of the side while the Bloodbot was very graphically chewed to pieces. Like a representation of what was soon to be her fate.
“No!” Sweetie shouted in her still broken voice. “I AM NOT JUNK!”
She tried to pull herself away. But the pile held her in place. She wriggled around and managed to push enough debris away to get her forehooves under her. she tried to crawl out. but her belly was pinned hard against the rubber belt. And her metallic hooves could not find any grip on the slippery wet rubber.
Unable to crawl away, all she could do was push, and push up. Trying to lift the pile of her. But It would not budge.
The crusher maw roared as another big pile of junk was devoured.
Panicking, she pushed harder and harder. Harder than any pony had pushed before. She directed all energy to her forelegs legs, trying to make herself rise.
-:: !Warning! // Safety limits overshot by 50% // 100% // 200% ::-
The pistons in her legs screamed in protest as they reached their maximum capacity. Yet she pushed more energy into them. To force them to push harder. She would grit her teeth from the strain, but that energy was needed elsewhere.
The crusher continued to roar, its maw getting ever closer. It was a deafening noise, yet Sweetie refused to turn off her ears. She let the sound of her approaching doom fuel her efforts to escape.
All safety limits were turned off, all locks were thrown out the window. The repair system was starting to kick in were starting to creak from the pressure. She did not care. She had to get out of here even if she would break herself in the process. She would not be recycled. And if she had been able to rip an iron fence from its sockets, she must be strong enough to lift a little garbage.
Finally the pile started to move. And she was able to create a gap large enough to get her trapped back-legs under her and help with the pushing. She managed to rise, inch by inch, lifting the pile over her as she did. but, A few small pieces of junk fell off the pile, but it was not enough to ease the main weight. It was too heavy and wide to shake off.
She could hear her straightened legs creaking under her. Her hooves were sinking into the rubber belt, but alas – not far enough to break it.
She looked over to the edge of the conveyor. The term so close yet so far away came to mind as she carefully raised her left leg, and put it in front of her, Her other three legs creaked as she did it. And it felt like she was pulling the pile with her. It was attached to her, like a turtles shell. The wideness of her armor made it impossible for her to just slink out. No matter. As long as she got moving, she'd be able to tilt herself and the pile over the conveyor belts edge.
An extra large bar of steel (that looked like it would go into a building) fell into the maw, causing it to hack and stutter. The conveyor jerked and stopped in its tracks in tune with the struggling machine. The jerk made sweeties loose her balance, Her right leg gave out under her and she fell back down. Her armor screamed as it took the bulk of the weight that threatened to flatten her.
The conveyor remained still as the cruncher maw struggled with the solid piece of metal. Sweetie prayed that it would choke on it. But eventually it managed to chew its way through it. And the band started moving at regular speed again.
Her struggle was not in vain. She had managed to get her front hooves out from under the pile. And She had managed to get herself closer to the right side of the conveyor belt. Just close enough for her right hoof to almost reach the edge.
Almost... Almost … If she could just reach it with her right hoof she would be able to pull herself off this death trap.
Sweetie stretched as far as she could, cursing how short she was and how bulky her armor had to be. She forced every synthetic muscle in her body to stretch out into its full length – and more, trying to make herself just that extra inch longer, . She thought she heard something creak and bend, unsure if it was the armor or something else. But she managed to get her right hoof over the edge.
-:: Synthetic piston unresponsive // Right fetlock disc dislocated ::-
Her hoof would not close around the edge, it would not move at all.
She was broken.
Sweetie looked back ahead and saw that she was almost at the maw. The second last pile in front of her fell into the crushers teeth, the metal got torn to shreds and swallowed by the hungry machine.
Sweetie jerked and twisted trying to get loose. But the rest of her body was stuck. She tried to kick with her back legs. But something held them down.
There was only one more pile before her, then she was next, and she would not be able to get free in time.
In desperation she thought of her master blasters. She tried to extend her blasters but the ports on her back would not open. Her back was still trapped underneath the pile.
With horror she realized the ports might have gotten stuck. All the rubble was holding them down.
No. She had to open them.
Sweetie went limp as she redirected her energy - pushed it all from her legs to that one mechanism that controlled the ports on her back
The energy levels rose - 100% - 200% - 300% - Far above any setting as all that she had was got focused into that one part of herself. She did not know if such a little piece might snap or explode as she overloaded it. But the pile of junk started to rustle. And finally the energy built up so strong that it pushed the ruble aside. The lid on her left side flew up and the energy canon came out. The magically shrunken weapon instantly expanded to its full size, knocking all debris aside with an explosive force as it ballooned its way out into its full mass.
Sweetie turned it towards the metal grinder just as the pile in front of her was devoured. Now she had a clear shot. Targeting circles appeared in her vision. It might only be a single blaster, but it would be enough. She aimed straight into the gaping maw, and fired.
The first shot hit dead on. It removed a big portion of its teeth, but did not slow it down. She fired again. Off to the side where the cylinder was attached to the frame. One time. Two times. On the third she managed to hit the upper cylinder straight in the axle. The heavy toothed cylinder crashed down into its lower hanging sibling. Teeth and sparks flew everywhere, and the machine screamed as it chewed itself apart. And the whole conveyor belt came to an emergency stop.
If she still could, she would be panting and sweating. As it was she just laid still for a few seconds, to see that the belt wasn't gonna start moving towards that mouth again. The screams of the metal maw lasted only a few seconds before something inside the giant machine broke, and it fell silent as smoke rose from its interior. Sweetie remained, still and with her mind on the mental trigger, until she was sure that the sound of the rain was all that remained. She then retracted the blaster and proceeded to wiggle her way out of the scrap-pile.
***
Having finally freed herself, Sweetie jumped off the conveyor belt. It was quite the drop, as the belt was positioned a few meters above ground. But she reckoned her body could handle it.
Her right hoof gave out under her as she landed. And she fell, face first into the muddy ground.
She patted herself on the head, Intending to pull up her helmet, but found herself grasping for nothing. Her headgear was gone. And the rain now splashed on her naked iron scalp. The water ran down her face, into the open neck of her armor. And poured out through the cracks in her legs as she rose.
She looked down on her front leg. The hoof was bent in a weird angle and would not respond to her movements. Somewhere underneath her armor, she could hear the ticking of a broken piston as it tried in vain to retract. It was stuck.
She looked at the rest of her legs. The armor itself had been dented slightly. It looked like she might have begun to compress under all that weight. It might be her mind playing tricks on her, but she felt like she had gotten even shorter than she already was.
In between the cracks in her armor - She could vaguely make out a faint flickering blue light as the repair program did its best to straighten out the cracks on her cybernetic muscles and joints. She waited for the program to do its thing. But no progress seemed to come. And the flickering only worsened.
-:: Internal systems check // Repair systems efficiency decreasing // Restoration energy depleting // Magical buffer depleting ::-
OH COME ON!
In frustration, she rammed her broken hoof into the ground, it penetrated the mud with a few centimeters before striking a rock with a muffed 'clang'. Sweetie pulled it out of the mud. Her hoof was no longer dented. Instead it just hung loosely at the end of her leg. And the clicking inside had ceased as the piston had given up and failed completely.
She tried to move her hoof. She was able to raise it, but not move it around. and when the piston that held her hoof up let go, it would hang limp and broken again.
She carefully raised her hoof into a neutral position and locked her piston into place. She took a few careful, limping steps. Adjusting the tension in her remaining synthetic muscles until she had found the right rhythm. She might not be able to move her hoof around. But she would at least be able to walk without tripping over it.
She walked over to the closest pile of junk, and ripped out a piece of a toaster with her teeth, then proceeded to furiously chew down on the heaters.
She had last eaten but a small thin horse figure of the evil mechanic's own making. But her systems required more than that to fix her broken insides. It required a far wider arrange of minerals and metals for components who's names Sweetie wasn't even gonna try to pronounce. She required copper for her wires and plastic for their protective coating, which had began to tear up around her exposed joints. If they failed, the rain might actually start doing serious damage. But there was no plastic or rubber in the heaps of junk before her. Just metal, rust and more metal. And the conveyor belt hung a good few meters out of reach. There was no way she would be able to climb the pillars that held it up, and blasting it down would only jeopardize her dwindling energy reserves.
A few cogwheels, tin cans and rusty roofing sheets also went down. Her belly rumbled like a cement mixer as it grinded down the raw diet. She could only hope the things would contain some variety of substances.
-:: Anger levels dropping ::-
-:: Sorrow levels rising ::-
-:: Anger levels rising ::-
-:: Depression levels rising ::-
Sweetie felt... weird. Her insides were in a turmoil. Her Emotional Processor started acting downright schizophrenic as it tried to process the mixture of hate sorrow and regret that emulated from her Heart-Drive.
-:: Why? Why did you never tell me? ::-
Her thoughts returned home. To those that called themselves her family. What was she to them? If not for them she might never had been in this position. Could they not at least have told her she could eat metal?
Years without consuming any raw materials was years that her restoration system had to work with a depleting buffer. It might have been fine when it was just the minor wear and tare bough on by age and activities. But not the massive amounts of damage she had to endure now.
The intensity of her chewing slowed down until she could no longer stuff her face with the raw material. The energy to do so war still there … And yet … not. Her body could not emulate it but she felt … weak, spent, used up, and so very, very tired. Not in any physical sense. She had conquered all physical weakness. But mentally. She had suffered worse in these last few days than she had in her entire life. She did not want to make a list of all the things she had lost – for she knew it would be a long one.
She thought about what the mechanic had said about her growth protocol. At this rate she was never going to grow up, as all her buffer was spent trying to fix her increasingly worsening damage.
A half eaten cog wheel fell out of her mouth as a shivering sequence started in her yaw.
She sat down in front of the scrap pile and ran her hooves across her face, wiping her ever-open eyes clean. And stared up into the dark sky. The raindrops fell into her eyes, and ran down her cheek. It was not any real tears. But it was close enough.
“Please ... “ She said. ”No more … Please … don't take anything more away from me ...”
-:: Crying sequence initiated // !Warning! // Tear sacs not found ::-
-:: Does crying solve anything? ::-
Her logic center asked.
No – It did not.
Anger on the other hoof. Anger was good. Anger made her do stuff. If she could choose which emotion she could feel right not. It would be hate. Hate against those that had robbed her of everything that made her a real filly. Of her friends that had blown her leg of. Of a family that had lied to her. A sister that had hit her. Of a foal that had made her drown. A house full of crazy ponies that had burned her. A mechanic that had deleted her. A tower that had taken her voice and a pair of stallions that had taken her tail ...
-:: !Warning! // Hate levels rising ::-
Just thinking about it all made the desired emotion kick in.
She was not giving up. She would endure. She would remain. She was gonna fix herself. She was gonna take it all back by force if she had to. She would ensure her existence.
She was gonna start by finding her helmet. Then she would find those two that had taken her tail, find whoever ran this place, and do Celestia knows what to them.
-:: Combat mode initiated ::-
***
Finding anyone to do anything to proved a difficult task as Sweetie tried to make her way through the scrapyard. The piles stretched out into long thin corridors, and simply walking straight ahead down one of them had soon found her staring at a dead end. She walked back and tried another passage, and soon found herself in a labyrinth of rust and steel.
Sweetie quickly lost sight of the crusher and the conveyor belt. Only the compass in her head guided her in the general direction of away from them. Her infrared scanners swept her surroundings and picked out anything that might serve as a landmark. - A broken tricycle - a heap of rusty wagon spokes - a big plow - No intersection looked exactly the same, no two rows of junk were identical, and with that. Sweetie started to make up a map of this maze.
It was clear that this maze had not come to be by accident. The rows were a little too straight and narrow, a little too claustrophobic. Somepony had to have stacked them like this. But why? Would that not inconvenience them from getting all this to the crusher?
The possibility of just blasting her way out existed, but sweetie figured she only had the energy for a few more shots, and did not want to risk wasting it. Simply climbing over the obstacle did neither seem like the best idea, the walls were high, at least two wagons stacked on top of each other, and they looked a little to unstable. Sweetie did not fancy getting buried again.
There was a rumble as a stack of broken wrenches fell from their place. Sweetie jumped at the sudden noise. Were the walls about to crumble? She locked behind her. The corridor laid empty ans silent aside from the rain hammering the rusty buckets. The walls seemed as stable as they had been before. Jet she felt like they were leaning in over her. Had corridor always been this thin? Or was it just this one?
-:: Fear levels rising ::-
Her Logic Center told her not to panic. The walls looked exactly like they had before.
But then. What had caused the wrenches to fall?
Was there somepony in here with her?
Sweetie looked back at the pile, and jumped again.
Not somepony - But something. Up from the pile emerged a cylinder, roughly the size of a hoofball. It rose from the wrenches on eight thin legs made out of steel wire and kitchen knifes. A camera sat above it, its lens regarding her with a faint light blinking in its depths.
The two stared at each other as the mechanical spider stumbled around on its knife legs. It picked up one of the wrenches in its front legs, then scurried away on the other six.
Sweetie looked after it as it disappeared around the corner. Then she turned around and headed in the other direction. A little faster than she had been going before. She wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible, for she was obvious that she was not alone here. Where had that thing even come from? Were there more of them? Suddenly the rusty walls seemed even closer than they had before. Sweetie increased her speed further. turning corner after corner, hoping to not get stuck in a dead end. The last thing she wanted was to be cornered by an army of those thing. What would they even do to her if she was? And why had her weapon systems not activated upon the sight of the strange thing?
A piece of code rushed through her mind. Telling her that her 'Stranger Danger' subroutine only was meant to trigger upon visual conformation of nearby equine shapes ... Like the one in front of her now.
-:: What? ::-
-:: STRANGER DANGER // STRANGER DANGER ::-
Sweetie skittered to stop as the blasters popped out from her back. But the slippery muddy ground made her slide like a skier on snow towards the figure had emerged at the opening of the corridor. A slim, almost skinny pony with a pale coat in the color of urine.
In his hoof he held a stopwatch. He clicked the watch to a stop by pressing the button against his prosthetic right foreleg, just as Sweetie came to a stop before him.
"Fasssscinating!" He said with a snake like hiss.
Sweetie stared at the figure in front of her. And he stared back at her with a wide grin in which every gap between his brown teeth was visible. He continued to grin even as the blasters warning started to warm up.
"YOU!" Sweetie shouted. Trying her best to sound intimidating, which should not be that hard, given how her voice sounded , and that he emergence from a scrapyard must seem similar to a certain movie.
However. This stranger might not have seen that movie, as he continued to stare at her with his poisonous green eyes.
"Yesss?" He answered in a low hissing voice.
"Ummmm..."
Sweetie had no idea what she should say next. The stallion seemed completely unconcerned by the who big energy weapons that were pointed at him. If anything Sweetie was more scared of him than he was of her. Far more.
She gave him a good looking over as he silently awaited her response. His prosthetic right leg seemed to be made from the junk in the yard with screws and bolts visible holding the many metal plates together, every piece of a different shape, form and level of rust.
He wore no clothing against the rain except for a familiar looking helmet that covered his head. From under it, a ragged, striped mane hanged down over his left eye, every stripe the color of puke green.
The sickening combination of his color scheme almost distracted Sweetie from the fact that he was wearing her helmet.
“Give that back!” she shouted and pointed towards his head.
He tilted his head as he gave her a strange look.
“Fasssinating” He repeated.
She was gonna give him to the count of three. But, without any argument, he dropped the stopwatch, removed the helmet and handed it to her. His mane instantly flattened by the rain. And from between puke green stripes, an extra pointy looking horn emerged.
Weird ... But not as weird as the fact that he used his prosthetic leg. The thing creaked as he removed his headgear and stretched it out towards her. Every loose sitting bolt bending as he did.
A bit surprised, an more than a little unnerved by his behavior and appearance Sweetie reached out and grabbed the helmet.
It was then that she got a good look at the surprisingly agile and functional metal leg that remained stretched out to her.
Its functionality might not have been so surprising after all, given that it was not metal through and through.
She might have thought so at first first. But looking closer on it revealed that there was flesh between those plates. Naked flesh, seemingly stripped of all fur, and with power cables coming in and out of it. The rusty metal plates were attached directly into the meat by screws and bolts, or in some cases shoved in partially in under the skin. Skin that was burned and stitched so bad there seemed to be nothing but scar tissue between the metal. Scar tissue mixed with wires and misscolored by rust. In the joint and fetlock sat screws and metal sticks that seemed to go straight true the bone. Worse still was that blood dripped from a few places, wounds having seemingly been opened by the very motions he just made
Sweetie nearly screamed. She dropped the helmet and jumped back away from the horrid sight.
The stallion just stood there, still grinning and holding his mutilated leg out towards her.
“Fasssinating.” He hissed as he tilted his head the other way.
"W...what have you done to your leg!?" Sweetie stammered
The grinning stallion looked down on it.
"Pain." He answered.
"I can tell you must be in pain ... But why do that ? Why ruin your own leg?" She asked. Glad her stomach could not turn
"To know that I am alive." He said.
Sweetie looked down on her own damaged foreleg, and remembered her own peril.
The blasters hummed again.
"I... I need some ... things" She said. Trying to sound authority "Do you have any power station in this place ... I mean ... You must have. Otherwise you would not have that 'machine' running."
The stallion nodded.
"Well ... Take me to it!"
A nervous second passed, as the stallion continued to stared at her, without the grin ever melting from his face.
-:: Nervousness levels rising ::-
Did this stallion even understand the danger he was in? Did he even know what power was held in the two cannon pointed at him? The possibility existed that he could not know that the blasters were weapons. But what then? Did he think of them as giant dubbstep speakers? Funny as that might have been, there was still there was a mechanical talking filly in the room. Yet this stranger did not even seem surprised. In fact, his expression never changed from the grin that was stretched across his face. It did not even look like a real smile, Sweetie had seen Pinkie smile impossibly wide, but still made it seem real. This was nothing like that. And Sweetie really did not want to follow him anywhere. But, If he was gonna take her to a power supply ... she had little choice.
"... Please?"
"Of course" He said, and turned to lead the way.
Sweetie picked up her helmet and followed.
As she walked behind his snot green tail, she got a chance to look at his mark. Or what would have been his mark. Instead of any symbol his flank was branded by another missing patch of fur, revealing scar tissue that looked like it had been very recently been scrubbed clean with a wire brush.
Sweetie could not help but stare at the naked piece of torn up skin.
"Why...?"
"To see if it comes back."
***
They did not walk long before they came upon a hill. And on top of that hill there was light coming from a porch. On top of that hill sat a shack constructed from the same rusty metal that surrounded it. Making it next to impossible to spot amongst the piles of junk if not for the porch that decorated it.
The porch itself was lit up, big enough for a small house and decorated with all manners of old junk in various levels of deconstruction - All neatly organized on hundred of shelves amongst beeping monitors and humming electronic devises. It would have been a scavengers workshop, apart from that it had no walls except for the big row of scrap heap it was leaned against. Still, there was light shining from electric lights in the sheet metal roof. Clear indication of a source of power.
The stallion led her in under the roof. The metal floorboards creaked as they stepped into his pawn shop.
Sweetie cautiously eyes the devices on the shelves around her. The outer rows were clearly made up of restored toasters and hairdryers, but the further in they got, the more bizarre the things seemed to become, deconstructed to such a level that sweetie could not tell what it had once been. And then there were the piles of things that seemed to be constructed from several other things. At this stage, the display had stopped resembling restored junk and become their own little inventions. Most of these inventions seemed to have one or more camera lenses or light bulbs attached to them. And from their chases stretched a wide variety of wheels, claws, antennas, hooks and legs.
One... two ... Eight legs.
Sweetie stopped and stared The rows around her was filled with spiderbots, all i different shape, form and state of completion. Some lacked any legs or chasing and closer resembled the inside of a Tv than a finished product - with their electronic innards stretched out around them amongst the nuts and bolts. But all of them seemed to have some form of camera, lenses or light bulb for eyes. and they all seemed to be staring at her.
Ahead of her, the stranger had reacted the back of the porch and now stared at the blank metal sheet that made up the back wall. It was decorated with the warning sign for high voltage. He put his hoof into a crack and started pulling a big portion of the wall away. Revealing it to be a door disguised as sheet metal.
"STOP!"
Sweetie put her hoof down. She had already followed one stranger into his lair, and was not about to do it again.
"My mom told me to never go with strangers." She said "You go and get that thing out here, use an extension cord or something. But I'm not going in there!"
"Of course... Wait here." He said, and disappeared into his hideout.
Sweetie could hear him rustle and tussle with something inside. In the meantime, Sweetie looked out amongst the shelves. Scanning for any signs of activity, ready in chase this army of scrap-bots suddenly jumped for her.
There did not seem to be active, except for one little spider with a plow attached to its front so that it resembled a little bulldozer with legs.
As sweetie leaned close to it, it activated and scurried away. Sweetie followed it to the end of the porch where it disappeared out into the scrapyard.
“Do you enjoy the company of your equals?”
Sweetie turned around to see the stranger standing there, carrying a portable generator on his back. A pair of cables were flung over his horn, at the end of which a pair of electrical clamps dangled. Once again Sweetie took notice of how there wasn't a single spark of magic coming from that horn of his.
He gestured to the spider bots on the shelves as he repeated his question.
“In a way you are related - Like a pony and a horse.” He said.
Sweetie had no idea why he would compare her to that mythological creature.
“There are no horses” She said.
“Well, they said there are no talking computers either. But look where we are now.”
“HEY! I'm not a computer!”
“Are you not?“ He asked and turned to one of the screens on the shelf. It was displaying some sort of spiderbot schematic” I'm pretty sure you are related to computers the same way and old stallion would be related to his younger self”
He reached behind the monitor and yanked something out, the screen and the half finished spiderbot it was connected to, went dead. As he pulled out his hoof, Sweeties eyes would have widened if they could.
In his mangled metallic hoof – he held a blue disk.
She watched him wave it back and forth. Sweetie could feel the targeting system beginning to redirect themselves from his face and start to follow the crystal instead.
“Fasssscinating.”
The low hissing voice snapped her attention back to the creepy stallion in belonged to. (As she did she also sensed the blasters on her back focusing back on him – having mover their aim of to the side after she crystal along with her focus.
“It seems that you are drawn to your equals after all” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He flicked the disk up in the air like a coin, and caught it as it came down. Again – without using magic.
“This is essentially what you where... when you where younger, so to speak.”
"How do you know all this?" Sweetie asked suspiciously "Who are you."
"I'm the doctor."
"Doctor what?"
"Exactly."
"You did not answer my question."
The blasters slowly started to charge up again Though he never stopped grinning, sweetie could see a small twitch in his eye.
"The doctor of pain." He answered.
Sweetie could feel her nervousness levels rising at the mentioning of that dreadful title. Why was this guy not locked up in the nearest mental institute - Or had he escaped from there when it burned down?
She looked at him more closely, scanning his face for recognition. Though she could not remember him from the hospital. She did find a mach in a completely different set of files. In memories that were not her own. Of a thin stallion that always stayed at in the back, and rarely spoke.
He looked far different now. But if one excluded the brown teeth and the constant grin, and added enough oil stain to turn her mane black and greasy …
“... You are one of them.” She whispered “One of those... who made me.”
"Yesss..."
The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. A lot of thoughts passed through Sweeties mind during that time. Most of them telling her to run. Or at least slowly back away. One even telling her to shoot, before this maniac tried something. But the blasters had already drained a lot of energy, and her eyes were hungrily drawn to the power generator on “Dr Pain's” back.
If she ran, she would not get far before running dry. Besides, she was in control here, she had all the weapons.
“Power.” She said. “Give it to me!”
"Of course." He said as he put the generator down and started attaching the cables to it.
All the time she kept her weapons at him. Keeping them armed like this was starting to pay a heavy toll on her energy supply. She hungrily eyes the generator as the stallion sat down and pulled a string, causing the generator to start up.
"Crystal powered generator" He said. "just one little battery can keep this thing running for days, and produce tenfold's of more energy than there is stored in its power cell."
He picked up the two clamps in his hooves and smacked the together, causing a bid spark to jump between them.
"Now, where should we put these?" He grinned. "Maybe in that socket you have in the back of your head."
If Sweetie could have pointed her weapons even harder at him, she would. She had no intentions letting him do what the mechanic had done.
Unconcerned with the blasters ominous humming, the stranger continued.
"You know - I could help you remove that torn off plug that sits attached to your skull socket."
She had what?
Questioningly, Sweetie reached with a hoof behind her. She could not feel anything due to a lack skin to feel with. But by dragging her hoof along her neck and cranium she did came to a stop, as there was something sticking out of the back of her head.
She thought she had gotten that thing out of her. She remembered having pulled at it - thought she had pulled it out when she severed the connection. But apparently it had gotten stuck in her socket. She must simply have ripped the wire apart. Which had to mean that a short portion of broken wires were sticking out of the back of her head - like a ponytail.
As she got lost in these thoughts. The stallion rose, still holding the electrical clamps in his front hooves.
He took a step towards towards her. But he seemed to forget that he was not a bipedal creature, so he stumbled and fell forward over Sweetie. The sparkling clamps held in front of him
He ended up striking her in the leg. A sharp sting flew through Sweeties fetlock and she reflexively jumped back. She took a defensive position and locked her targeting systems onto the attackers ugly grinning face.
“How did that make you feel?” He asked nonchalantly.
-:: Hate levels rising ::-
The humming of the blasters increased as they charged up with enough energy that at this point had to be enough to level the whole porch and the hideout behind it. Sweetie gritted her teeth and rubbed her right foreleg against her chest, hoping to rub the sting out of it.
"It ... It..."
-:: Hurt? ::-
Then she realized. She had felt that! Not just registered, but actually felt! Had she suddenly developed a sense of touch in her metal body?!
She checked to see her touch and pain sensors was still very much inactive. But she had felt the electricity touch her. It felt like a sting, or perhaps a pinch. Maybe as little as a touch, a tickle that disappeared the moment the wire was pulled away.
“I... I felt that...” She said in surprise.
“Interesting....”
Interesting indeed. Her protective coating had failed in her broken fetlock, she had just not noticed it since she turned it off. The energy from the live wire had gotten in through the damage and entered her systems.
It should be a bad thing. But... It felt so ... Good.... to feel something.
“Do it again...”
She held out her leg in front of her. And the stallion willingly lowered the clamps towards it. The blasters on sweeties back were still active, but were slowly powering down as the clamps touched her.
It was nothing like the massive overload of lightning she had received at the tower. It was a far more tender feeling. Like an itch, or a tickle. either way it sent a shivering feeling as it ruched down her spine before entering her battery.
-:: Shivering sequence activated ::-
Sweetie could not help herself but giggle.
"How did that make you feel."
"It tickled!"
"Intresssting."
Well. Maybe tickled was the wrong word. Sweetie just had no other way of describing it. It was not like the rubbing of sensitive skin, (since she dad no skin) but something deeper. A shiver that arose as the voltage from the generator was being absorbed into her circuitry. A feeling that changed to a flow when the power output was increased and sustained. She told the stallion to leave the output at that low tickling level, even though it would take forever to recharge that way.
At the moment, she liked the idea of staying here forever. She was just too exalted to feel something.
***
Sweetie was in a state of bliss.
Around her, several generators and batteries hummed as she sat at the edge of the porch with a spaghetti like collection of cables around her, each connected to a different part of her body by the way of clamps.
She ran one of those clamps over her foreleg. Feeling the tingling touch where the clamp connected to the metal.
The feeling was not just limited to her broken fetlock. Electricity, by its very nature, could travel through anything made of metal (as long as you had an in and an out port). Sweeties armor was no exception. And even though her insulation was only broken in a few places - the energy always found its way to them. Because Sweetie pulled it in.
The energy might only be going one way when it entered her - but as long as the flow remained - Sweetie could extend herself out into the armor. She could mentally follow the flow upstream until she reached the point where the clamps sat. And through it she became aware of her armor in a way she had never been before. She could feel the individual armored plates as energy vibrated through them.
It was not the same as having real skin, the armor had no sensors or nerves, and could not pick up the cold of the wind that blew through the porch. The wet of the rain that had soaked her, or the mud that stuck to her hooves.
But at the moment. It was enough.
She held a wire to her horn and felt the electricity flow through it. wondering if this was how it felt to have magic in your horn.
She reached out with her own energy and pulled it in. She felt it travel through her systems and down to her battery.
For the first time she extended her thoughts into that battery. From there she felt the energy flow out of it and into all of her parts. It stopped and built in certain places if she willed it. Filling a circuit up until her processor started screaming about the threat of an overload. She sat down and guided the flow Into her leg. The energy jumped out through the damaged wires in her fetlock and traveled into her hoof.
Sweetie could feel it vibrating with power. On a whim she raised her other hoof and slowly pulled the two closer and closer together, until a small bolt of lightning discharged from one hoof to the other.
Sweetie pushed more energy out to her hoof. Making the lightning bolt appear again. It flickered in and out a few times before she managed to establish a connection and maintain a constant stream of energy between her hooves.
This wasn't just like when she had taken control of the programs that controlled her functions. This time she had control over the energy itself! She might not have gotten her sense of touch back. But in a way - this was better. It was like feeling something inside her. Some sixth sense she had not been aware of.
Was this how unicorns felt when they unlocked their magic? Was this how it felt to have power coursing through your body?
Next to her. Dr Pain had set up a workstation at the edge of the porch - consisting of a bench and several monitor screens that had been carried forth with the aid of the creepy little junk bots. He had been exalted to test this phenomenon on her, and had happily hooked her up to every battery and generator he could find.
Though one eye was closed in ecstasy. The other kept a watchful eye on him as he went to type on his computer. Clicking away with two hoof dials in a speed most impressive.
And since she did not have to blink - it was easy for her to take in every detail of his work.
He had offered to remove the plug from the back of her head again and again - but Sweetie refused. By extending some energy out her neck-socket and into the plug she was able to become aware of the tiny ponytail of wires that hung from her head. For some reason it self almost like having hair - even though she could not feel the wind in it she could feel her own metallic hoof as she dragged it through the broken wires.
She would not let a stranger touch her. Not when she had a repair system to keep her going.
Though, going was just what it did not. Another reason for the waiting was to tel her system knit her back together. But still her hoof remained broken, and the voices in her head was telling her of dropping efficiency.
-:: Restoration chamber efficiency dropping // Restorative energy nearing depletion ::-
"What is wrong with my repair system?" She finally asked.
"Pardon?"
Dr Pain took a break from his work and looked down at her, curiosity shining in bout his eyes and his grin. Sweetie met his gaze with her one active eye. though she had retracted her blasters, It would take but a second fro her to activate them again.
"Its not repairing me like it used to. Its only getting weaker despite all the energy I'm loading into the system. and why cant it resore my voice! I'm not supose to sound like this! You worked on me. you must know what the problem is."
"Fasssscinating" he hissed as he leaned back into his chair. "Yes. I do know what the problem is. You are simply spending all your restorative energy."
"But - Ain't I recharging right now?"
Dr pain shook his head, and carefully explained:
“Electricity is not the only thing that is loaded into your system. Sure it might be your main power source . But it also took a lot of magic to get you running. Like your repair and restoration program, it consists of magically charged components that sends millions of little metal particles traveling through your body, reforming any damage that might occur. If by example you would get a hole in your throat. Then your repair program would slowly rebuild the walls around the damage inwards until the hole was closed. A truly marvelous mix of magic and science
They both looked out over the scrapyard. From here they had an front row view over the whole scrapyard. Or would if it was not raining so bad. As it was, one could barely see the crusher that was parked somewhere in the center. Yet even through the darkness one could make out the fuss of motion, as hundreds of little junk-bots were crawling over the machine like the ants in a anthill. (Sweetie suspected that the doctor had set up his workstation here to be able to monitor the place.)
“But it has its limits. For you see. Your repair and restoration program was never designed to repair such large scale damage as you are enduring now. It was meant to restore some inevitable wear and tear. Not repair battle damage. Doing so would drain a lot of restorative energy. Electricity might be needed to run these components. But not sustain the magic energy inside them."
"And the system can not replace missing parts. Having a branch shoved through your voicebox would not only cause a hole but also dislocate several tiny components. My guess it that some parts have been chuffed around in your voicebox, and may be rattling around your insides. If such they are out of the restoration programs reach, and can not be restored. Such repairs must be done manually.”
Sweeties eye was one again drawn out to the giant crusher Most of the junk bots were currently busy pushing the giant crusher wheel back into place by forming a jack made out of each other. She did not fancy the idea of having an army of them pull her apart as they crawled over her. And only the fuzzy state of her mind ceased any desperation routines from setting in. She was about to ask how she was suppose to recharge magical energy, when a faint blue light surrounded the horrible machine. making it stand out in the darkness. A blue magic light Sweetie knew very well.
"You have a repair system on that thing!" She said. And pointed out towards the crusher.
"Yesss..." Dr Pain answered "It helps with the maintenance."
"Well ... If you have repair magic ... If you have such components ... I want them too!"
"Of course." He said with his continuous grin. If he was disappointed by the timely intervention of this reveal, he did not show it.
He simply leaned over his desk and pulled out a drawer. From it he pulled out a tiny faint blue gemstone. the sight of it triggered a hunger inside Sweetie. Both from her stomach and from her restoration chamber. She reached out fer functional hoof in a silent demand that he give it to her.
Dr Pain leaned over to Sweetie. But before their hooves could reach, gravity seemingly overtook him and he fell out of his chair and landed right on top of her. A few of the generators and batteries were toppled and broke as they fell. But half of them remained clambered into Sweetie. She looked up. Now fully aware that Dr pain was standing on he chest, and that his hair was standing on edge. The electricity that coursed through her armor still was now taking a course through him. Especially through the mangled, metal infused leg that was visibly vibrating as sparks traveled up it.
Though even through his constant grin, he seemed to be enjoying it.
His other hoof was shaking violently and making a scratching noise that caught Sweeties attention, she looked over to her side and saw that he had struck a screwdriver into her right front leg. Reflexively she pulled her leg back. And pushed him off her.
Dr Pain rose to his hooves and shook of the experience as if he had stepped out of the shower. Even through it had to have been painful he never stopped grinning. He looked back at sweetie with an ecstasy on his own in his eyes.
"How did that make you feel?" he asked her.
“Nothing." Said Sweetie. “I didn't feel anything.”
Pain started to giggle through his teeth. (Sweetie had ever only seen Pinkie pie giggle like that. But she always manage to make it look heart warming. This guy only made I creepy.)
“Sorry. Wrong question. Wrong answer. I mean how did that make you feel?”
He empathized the last word.
Sweetie was not sure she understood the question. How had that made her feel? Angry? Sad? Surprised? Betrayed? Confused?
She settled for 'Confused'.
“Interesting...” Pain muttered.
He walked over to one of the robots on the shelf – this one a mechanical spider connected by wires to a sample of living tissue. He typed in some command into his computer and then he stabbed the tissue. Like on springs the spider-bot jerked so violently it jumped of the shelf and fell and broke upon the hard comb-stone ground.
“O my. I guess I overdid the jumping reflex in response to pain.”
He bent down his head to the bot.
“How did that make you feel?” he asked it, seriously awaiting a response.
When no response came. He walked back behind the shelves. Sweetie could hear him Mumbling to himself and causing a ruckus as he started stabbing other things with his deadly screwdriver.
Sweetie rose to her hooves. The little restorative component had fallen out of sight. On a whim she walked over to the workbench (dragging the still connected generators behind her as she did) and checked the drawer.
It was half full of similar colored gemstones of varying shapes and sizes. A selection of plenty that he no doubt used for his junk-bots.
Sweetie scoffed up a hoof-full of the stones , and absorbed the magical energy the only way she knew how - By digesting it. And the energy had been stored in her internal restoration chamber and its blue magic was now back up to speed at restoring her body - To a point.
There was still nothing to be done about her broken voicebox. And her armor was not getting any prettier. Though every plate had been bolted directly into her - It had not been hooked up the repair systems.
Sweetie looked at a scratch on her foreleg - a scratch that the repair magic could not reach - and had an idea. like all things, the energy inside her traveled through her circuitry. every piece of her was in some was connected to the greater nervous system of wires - Except for her armor - who only consisted of cold hard metal.
Metal that was now vibrating with electric power - Not to far from a wire. Sweetie let her focus shift inside - to her restoration chamber and pulled the restorative energy along with her as she one again traveled out on the electric frequency onto the armor - holding its hand as she surfed on the waves of energy all the way to the crack. After having extended herself that far out she once again returned to her eyes - and watched as the blue light started to surround the damage, and slowly the scratch started to evaporate.
-:: Restorative energy depleting ::-
-:: Already? ::-
-:: Sigh ::-
"Fasssscinating."
Sweetie's eyes returned to Dr Pain. Her mind a little to fuzzy to develop any real irritation over his constant hissing or her insufficient repair system. As she watched him. he moved back to sit at his workbench, just as happy and grinning as he had been when he left. He had even acquired a new hat - the upper shell casing of a spider-bot.
They both looked out at the big crusher, where the spiderbots was busy holding the crusher wheel in place - allowing the blue restorative light to engulf the broken axle.
A few more spiderbots emerged from the shelves and hurried out into the rain to assist with repairing the cruncher maw. Perhaps to escape their abusive master?
“Marvelous little machines aren't they?” Said pain. Working so tirelessly, never ending. Without the need for sleep or food other than the occasional recharge.”
“But Why?” Sweetie asked.
“Why build robots?” Pain Smiled.
"Ever since the invention of the wheel ponies have made tools and gadgets to assist them in all their little everyday needs. In time they may become able to take the entire workload off the pony's backs. Some might say that would make us lazy. But I say it leaves us with more time to pursue other arts and crafts - like building more robots - Like teaching them the meaning of life through the meaning of pain. Its my hope that I will one day be able to replicate the process of bringing life to a machine.”
“But why do that?" Asked Sweetie. "Why give them a personality if they are only going to work? Why give them free will? Why give them life?”
“Why give a robot life? That is a most fasssssscinating question indeed. To see if we can I suppose. The whole point of our little experiment was to see if we could create life. And the only way we could know if we truly succeed was to see if the thing itself could believe it was alive, just as alive as any other pony. That's why we could never tell it of its true nature.
“And did you learn anything?”
“Much, and at the same time nothing” was his cryptic answer. “One discovery only led to more questions. One step forward and two steps back. So to speak.”
Sweetie knew how that felt.
“That's your failure. Not mine!” She shouted. “I'm not a failure. You are! You are the ones that doesn't understand anything!”
Sweetie – Trying to take control of the conversation – Smiled a wicked smile. (A difficult task without lips.)
"You know what else you failed at! Controlling me. I know you put a control program in my mind. I had a lot of voices in my head. But I overcame them!"
"Voices?" Pain said, very questioningly.
But then something lit up in his eyes, a sparkle of understanding. And his smile widened to cover what was left of his face from ear to ear. So big was his smile that he had to open his mouth, exposing every brown teeth in there. So wide that Sweetie thought he was gonna unhinge his yaw. She had only ever seen Pinkie Pie smile so impossibly wide before.
The pink party pony had always made it seem heartwarming. This was nothing like that.
"They sound like voices to you?" He hissed. "Fassssssssinatiiiiing..."
-:: Fear levels rising ::-
"What does?" She asked. "What sounds like voices?"
"The programs, of course - Every little sequence you are made up of."
"I'm not made up of sequences" Sweetie objected "that's just stuff that you have put on my mind. Spells that was to keep me from finding out the truth!"
Dr Pain lowered his head towards her with an ever increasing interest.
“No no no. Magic might have been involved in the making of your body. But those are not spells. They are simply code. Code that controls your body.“
"I know!" Sweetie raised her voice. "Those things always tried to dictate everything I do. They were locked behind big magical walls. some of them still are."
Dr Pain chuckled.
"Those are not control programs. Oh sure, they are in the sense that they control the functions of the different components of your body. And yessss... in a sense, their settings were programmed by some pony else. Us. But they are not mind control spells as you seem to think. The only 'control' was that you were not suppose to be aware of them. Like how you can speak or breathe without thinking about it. They run the lower functions of your body so you wont have to.
The fact that you have become aware of them is... Interesting. And that you say you can control them... even more so."
Sweetie shuddered. Was that what the control program was? Just a wall she had somehow been able to work herself around?
"Then. what am I programmed to do?"
"Nothing." Was the blunt answer. "You have no specific programming."
Sweetie was shocked. To her - that meant that not only was she not supposed to ever find out that she was a robot, she had never been given any specific purpose in the first place! Somehow, that single thought triggered a far more primal fear than she thought possible. A fear that she had carried with her every time she and the Cmc had gone crusading. A fear that had grown when she learned she would never get a real mark. Even then some part of her had not stopped looking for a purpose. Something that explained what she was meant to be.
By contrast – Dr Pain had programmed all his robots to fulfill some job or another - he had given them all purposes.
What was her purpose - Other than just to be?
She thought about her heart drive. What magic allowed her to feel emotions to begin with? Surely one could not program emotions. Or could you? Up until now, that had been the only thing she had taken for granted. Before that, she had always believed that her mind was her own. But what if her mind was just made up of a bunch of programs that other ponies had come up with? What was to say the same was not true for the heart? For her emotions?
"Somepony once told me that “I think therefore I am.”
Dr pain laughed.
“Whoever that is, they are a fool." He said "You think thinking is enough to make you sentient. A computer can think. A puppet can think. A golem can think if you give it enough intelligence. But intelligence alone is not enough to make a sentient being. Instead it is our emotions that sets us apart. Or more specifically how those emotions effect the logic side of us”
“I say that If you FEEL, then you are. Its only through pain that you know you are alive right? It is when we stop feeling that we are dead. When we stop feeling love we die a little inside. When we stop feeling pain then you are dying a little on the outside. Like when skin burns in dragon-fire. As the skin gets roasted and the nerve endings cauterize - that part of the pony is burned to death. A small part of him died.”
Sweetie did not want to know if he spoke from some sort of experience.
“That's why I make sure I can feel that I'm alive every day” He said, and held up his horribly mutilated leg. His right leg
Sweetie looked down on her own leg. She thought about the skin that had been blown off. About the needles she had stuck into the blody mess that remained. About how she had been able to stick it in after she turned her sense of pain off.
That was all she wanted. for the pain to just come to an end.
She had been hurt by the ice cold rain. So she had turned her sense of touch off.
She had been hurt by hunger. So she had turned her belly off.
She had been hurt by water and smoke. So she had turned her lungs off.
She was still hurting on the inside. The feelings hurt her.
Why could she not turn off her feelings? - Because she did not have full control over her heart drive yet The progress on the heart integrity was at some 60 percent.%. A work in progress. And once that was done, she would turn it off, so it would not hurt any more.
But now – this guy – this maker of hers - told her that you died if you stopped feeling?
Did that mean she had been killing herself piece by piece!!!??
But what about all the times she turned her self back on? Did that mean she killed and then revived herself every time she turned some part of herself on and off? Was that even the same thing?
-:: Does not compute // Yes / No … Maybe ::-
If anything. Did it mean that she could be turned on again after she died? What did that say about her soul? Did she get a new soul each time she rebooted? Or was her soul saved somewhere?
She asked Dr Pain this. And told him what Necro has Said. Dr pain called even Necro a fool. For a moment sweeties hope rose. If the black stallion was wrong, then maybe she had a soul. She might not even be a brain in a jar – But she might at least have a soul.
But Dr Pain was quick do dash those hopes by laughing at the Idea of a soul jar.
“There is no specific part of you meant to house a soul.“
“So. I have no soul?” Sweetie said in shock.
“Soul?” said Pain, and laughed again. “Who needs a soul? A soul is but a metaphor for all the things that makes you, you. And what are we all but collections of memories. Those memories and experiences that makes us into who we are. All the love, anger, fear, hurt and... pain.”
He scratched his leg. His smile seemed to widen as he did it.
Sweetie was stuck in her own thoughts If your soul was made up of your memories. - Did that mean the mechanist had tried to take her soul when he tried to take her memory? He has certainly tried to change whom she was.
Sweetie told him about Molten Metalhoof too. And how he had tried to delete her.
“Hes a fool.. too” Said Dr Pain. “Molten might be an excellent engineer. But he's a lousy programmer. Could not program his way out of a paper bag. Much less into something like your Cybercore.”
He touched her forehead with his mangled hoof.
“The only way he would be able to get into your systems... Was if you let him!”
Sweetie just stared. Was the only reason the Mechanic had been able to delete her files because she let him! The logic center had after all agreed with Molten's deleting. Again. To end the control that somepony else had put on her. But then again... had he really succeeded? Though her memory on the subject was fussy she had the brief sense that every single part of her still remained. Dormant, sleeping somewhere inside her.
This revelation did not make Sweetie think better about herself. It made her feel worse. Because that meant she had almost deleted herself.
Somewhere in the outside world, Pain continued his ramblings, uncaring if Sweetie listened or not.
"Fire might kill your body - but it can also kill your mind. The fires of love and hate can burn a sound mind to ashes. All the regrets and refusals and desperate desires we carry. They can be like fishing-hooks pulling at your heart. And if the pull is strong enough, you have no choice but to follow it.”
Again, was this poet speaking from some form of experience?
“So the question becomes." Dr pain made a dramatic pause "What would a computer long for?”
He punched a recorder next to the monitor, and out popped a blue disk. He caught it in his mangled hoof and spun it around, watching as Sweetie's eyes were one again drawn to that strange device.
“What does a thinking computer long for most? Well I guess that would be for something to think about. And we did. As we tried to teach you how to be a pony – As we completed all the code that would keep your body running like a pony's … Well … In retrospect I guess that was kind of like spoon feeding a foal its baby meal."
“But what about the foal!” Sweetie shouted in disbelief. She could not just accept that she was nothing but a computer. Was she not the copy of some pony else. At the very least that had to make her some part pony.
“I thought I was the ghost of a foal transferred into (she gestured at herself) … This.”
“Oh.” Pain chuckled “That little story. Yea, there was a foal involved in the process. It was her mind we used to make you. A template for the functions of a pony mind. That was the very first thing you absorbed.”
“Absorbed?”
“Yes – getting back to the point about spoon feeding a computer.” He flipped the disk up into the air and caught it again “you should know that a computer is like a storage device – a bookshelf if you will, or a library. It fills up with information the more you put in it. Every piece of code that we put into that mind of yours made you grow. And you were hungry.
“H... Hungry?“
“That neural processor of yours had an amazing ability to absorb information from everything it was connected to. Copying and collecting files in order to make its own mind grow. It even absorbed all the information from the devices that the foal had been connected to.
“And as the computer thinks for itself – every new thought it creates becomes new information that insures in continued growth.”
The disk came to a stop in his hooves.
“So. What does a computer long for? Well, I guess that would be to learn new things, to be curious, to absorb new information about the world around it.
Sweetie stared at the blue disk as it spun around in Dr pains hoof. Was she curious because these ponies had made her so?
“Information like these little things.” He said as he waved the disk around “Do you enjoy the company of your equals? Because it was storage devices like these that your mind started out as.”
Sweetie grabbed her head was that what pounded inside her metalized cranium? A collection of disks? Was that why she had felt such a longing for them? Because she was made up of them? Because she hungered for information?
She looked down at her leg. It moved to her will. She had never questioned that the leg moved when she willed it to move. But now she did.
She thought about it as just a function that she had absorbed, that she had been programmed - spoon fed - to do.
Every thought she made was just new information that was added to her storage, That also meant that every single little sequence was just a part of that great storage room. And that every time they did something, every time a body function was activated, it was registered. Every time a feeling was processed it meant new info to that great mind-vault.
Or was it more like one of those black holes that Twilight talked about? An infinite well that just sucked upp everything that came near it. Or was it more like one of those black holes that Twilight talked about? An infinite well that just sucked upp everything that came near it. And that hole in her head that sucked down books.
Twilight would have been glad...
“But … If I am a library … If I'm just a storage devise. If I'm just made up of memories. Should I not have a perfect memory?
“That's the tricky part.” Said Dr Pain, and patted one of his screens. “A computer does not remember. It just stores information. It stores everything you put in it. And it picks out anything the user wants it to pick out.”
“But can a computer not be not its own user if it thinks on its own? Then what chooses which memories I am made up off?”
“I assume that you, your brain, your neural processor - is choosing which memories that are most important and stores them ahead of all others, and it picks forth those things you want it to pick forth. The memories you label as important. And push the other stuff you label as non important boring stuff down the drain. Further and further back down into your subconscious servers.”
That made sense to a point. But it lead to another dreadful thought, what would happen when her memory became full? Would she simply stop remembering new things then? Did that mean she would have to delete memories to clear up disk space?!
Suddenly all the information she had gotten from the computer of the Mechanic seemed heavy in her mind. And all the memory’s she had been seeing in all the blue disks. How much space did it take up?!!
She asked Dr Pain this. And of course he smiled as he answered.
”Hard to say. We never deleted anything from our hard drives." He said as he once again picked forth a blue disk that had been sitting in a recorder next to his monitor. He waved it around as he nostalgically continued.
"I'm guessing that the memories at the very bottom would fade away over time. The informational energy would be reduced to simple ordinary energy that might be distributed to other systems or memories. You see. We pumped you so full with information that we did not know where it all went. Maybe those dissolved experiences would form a ghost code that affects who you are?”
Ghost code... Necro had called her a ghost in the shell. An artificial ghost made up of code. This must have been what he meant.
A fake ghost.
Did this mean that she was just an artificial ghost in a robot pony shell? A ghost of old dissolved computer programs that where now fighting for control with the newer control programs over her body and mind? Did she have another mind in her? Was there two parts to her? The part that believed it was a normal filly and the part that believed it was a robot? (were they like two angel and demon voices on her shoulders?) What happened to it when she took over? Did she absorb it or did she destroy it? Was that what was locked behind the tricky walls of her heart? Was that what kept interfering with her processor? Was it ghost code that had been locked away so it did not interfere with the part of her that was just programmed to be a real foal? What was she was trying to break free? Her real self? Just ghost code? So elusive that she could not even register it?
”I'm guessing that if you just sat down and searched through your internals you would be able to find precisely everything. Just like when a computer uses a search engine to find anything stored on its memory bank.”
Sweetie had done just that several times. Journeyed up and down her very own memory lane, trying to make sure that everything was there. She had found that she had a nearly perfect memory. Except for the very end of that lane. The very beginning of her life, which was blocked to her.
Some part of her just knew that those earliest memories had to be in behind that elusive component called her heart drive. Just like the truth about her being had been stored somewhere behind a frozen wall of flaming ice.
-:: Frustration sequence activated ::-
How could they be so mean as to deny her her past. A piece of herself. A piece of her soul if you thought about it like Dr Pain did!
Speaking of codes and memory files. How had it even been possible that there was parts of herself that she was not aware of?
Upon questioning, Dr pain could only twist in his seat.
“Well ... A computer program is technically always aware of all its systems. We wanted to remove that. we had the idea that since living creatures like me are not constantly aware of all the signals that makes our body work. that makes our heart beat and our lungs draw breath. So thought we that we could program all functions and control programs and settings on a lower level of the hardware while the AI – the active consciousness where programmed on a higher level. That way we created several layers of a consciousness and sub consciousness... ”
Sweetie remembered what Dr Cardiac had said. That the brain had multiple parts that all took care of the bodies functions without you having to constantly remind yourself to breathe or make your heart beat.
Similarly she had not been in constant awareness of her own systems. She did not tell her belly to grind up the things she put in it and she did not tell her repair program to do its thing. Though she could go in and assume direct control, those thing took care of themselves when left to their own devices. They were programmed to function individually. Even such a thing as blinking, that she made her eyes do every once in a while, was now something that happened on a more subconscious level following the programming she had made up for them.
“... A Lower level consciousness that took care of all the body functions. And a higher level consciousness that
became the active personality. And the two where not suppose to be aware of each other. That way the higher personality consciousness – where all the memories formed – would not know if it was a robot.”
“But... Why?” said Sweetie. "Why never tell me?"
Pain jerked his shoulders.
“That was what the experiment was for. To see if such a thing was really possible. The whole point of the experiment was to see if we could create life. And the only way we could know if we truly succeed was to see if the thing itself could believe it was alive, just as alive as any other pony. That's why we could never tell it of its true nature.
“Though ... It seems now as if it has failed.”
Sweetie shuddered. She had thought of herself as a doll, then as a murderbot. But now the more she found out about herself, it seemed that she was just an experiment. A test to create artificial life. A test to see if she could be any of those things. So far it seemed she had been able to be neither. Not a filly. Not a Machine soldier. Not a toy. Not a experiment.
“HEY I am not a failure!” She shouted.
But she could not shake the thought. Did that mean that all her time with friends and family where just part of a test? Where they all aware of it? Not just her parents but her friend and her classmates and every pony in town? Was everything in her life just one big play pretend to see if one little robot would thing that it was a real filly. Was that why they had shunned her when she found out the truth? Was the accident also part of the test? To see what extremes she would go through to claim she was still a real filly? Was she still in the test and this horrid journey was just a set up course to see how long it took for her to accept the truth? How else was she supposed to explain that she kept running in to all there crazy ponies that apparently knew so much about her!
“I'm not a failure... I'm not a failure... I'm not!” She shuddered.
-:: Anxiety levels rising ::--
Her legs started shaking and she knew she would start hyperventilating if her ability to breathe had not been deleted from her.
–:: Hate levels rising ::--
No. No! She refused to play this stupid game any more! She did not want to be those things and no one was gonna call her a failure for wanting differently!
”I AM NOT A FAILURE!” she screamed as her Master Blasters shot out of her back and her vision turned red, and at least twenty targeting markers appeared on Dr Pain.
Dr Pain, seemingly unable to change emotions from his constant grin, rose from his seat and walked back over to the shelves.
"Failure?" He said. as he one by one started to throw the defenseless spiderbots down onto the ground.
“This one is a failure! This one's a failure! This one and this one too!” he repeated over and over again as he shoved his work down onto the floor before he grabbed hold of the entire shelf and pulled it down with a crash that smashed everything that was lying underneath.
“They have all failed to become what they were supposed to be!” he almost shouted. Still with that grin on his face.
Sweetie stared in horror at the mad stallion for the longest time. finally she managed to push some words out through her voicebox.
“What where they supposed to be? What was I supposed to be!? Can you answer that!?"
Her voice rose as she continued.
"NO! You can not, because you don't know anything. It's not their fault that they don't work the way you want them to! It's not their fault that you cant do anything right!" She shouted as she gestured around to the broken little machines, suddenly feeling very sorry for them.
"That's your failure. Not theirs! Not mine! I'm not a failure. You are! You and all the others are failures that doesn't understand anything!”
Pain stared at her.
"That is certainly a fassscinating possibility." He hissed, with barely more than a whisper. his eyes grew distant as he started moving away, deeper and deeper into his workshop, mumbling to himself and talking to the machines.
Sweetie stood there for a while, watching him disappear into his hideout before she slowly retracted the blasters into her back and her vision returned to normal.
As she did, she had a realization. She realized he just saw her as one of the broken things on the shelves.
“He thinks of me as a toy.” She thought to herself. "As an experiment" All this time he had been experimenting on her. He made that maze , he put her under all that weight, He took her time with a stopwatch. And now ... He was testing her mentally. To see if there actually was anything inside this metal head of hers.
She should be angry. But still... He was acting so weird that she wondered if he at all was aware of her intelligence at all. If he was even aware of her at all. He was so weary and spent all his time mumbling around and talking as much to broken machines and his toys as he did to her. She was just another experiment to him.
Experiment...
She had no intention of becoming somepony's experiment. She had to leave before he decided to trip over her and stab her with something else. or throw her into another crusher maw. Had any of those 'accidents' been actual accidents?
Despite that her battery was not fully recharged, she disconnected the wires from herself. She had to leave. But before she left, she made sure to swoop another hoof-full of repair crystals from his desk.
She pulled out the entire drawer and emptied all the content into her mouth, and munched it down. Felt it being broken down and its magical energy being absorbed into her own repair system.
There was still a thousand little things, scratches and nicks that needed restoration. But she thought it best to conserve her energy in the future - for when she really needed it. besides. If she could fix herself manually, she would have to do so in order to save energy.
She looked around to see that he was not gonna sneak up on her again. He didn't even notice her leaving.
Experiment...
As her mind began to clear from the shock therapy - a new horrifying thought had begun to form in her mind. If they needed to test just how lifelike this little bot could be. Then would they not have to perform field tests? Would they not have to provide her with a family and a home? And just how was it that this crazy doctor knew about her near-fatal run in with a tree? How had she not thought of that before?
Experiment...
Was she being watched?
-:: Paranoia levels rising ::-
She picked up one of the broken spiderbots, Stared into its empty camera socket. She feared she had an answer to that question right in front of her.
As she was about to leave she noticed the blue crystal disk that he had left, a little inconspicuously out in the open.
She thought she should ignore it. Prove that she did not have a vampiric desire to devour all information from those crystals like some fruitbat.
Despite that, she could not help herself. What if this one held some answers? What if this one held the truth to her being? Besides, if he had collected data on her, was it not just as fair that she took it for her own?
Out of experience she disconnected her sensors and other things from her body functions processor. To distance herself from the recording, so as to not have to experience any pain that might lay in wait inside the circuits of the cursed disk - and brought it to her horn.
A small flash of energy emerged from the top of her horn - and the world melted away.
-:: Establishing connection ::-
Well. This was a new experience.
She was eminently able to tell that she was not in a pony body. In all the other memories she had been able to feel what the pony felt. But never had she received data from them like this. She recognized a control system far simpler than her own that controled 8 little simple hydraulic legs. A remote control program and a single optic lens
She was one of the little spider bots.
The vision through the optic lens was tilted on the side. She realized that she was watching from the side of a wall. In a dark corner where she had a good lookout over a office like room and the three occupants that surrounded a mahogany desk in the middle. In the main chair sat the mysterious mare in glasses she had seen so many times before. In front of her – with their backs towards the camera sat two other ponies Sweetie unmistakably identified.
Despite having different clothing and appearing far younger than she remembered them, she recognized that stallion with the big brown eyebrows and mustache, and the mare with the big purple hair bundle anywhere.
Mom and dad.
She wanted to call out to them. Wanted them to take her in their arms. But she was stuck in the body of the spiderbot. A simple machine without any basic voice component. And even if there had been one - it was just a memory anyway.
What the spiderbot did have however, was a small microphone, and it was picking up sound from the conversation they were having.
Sweetie could not know what they had discussed, but it looked like they had been at it for a while
”... I'm actually worried that she will break off from her parents.” Said the mystery mare. ”What I propose is simply a little control program. With a little keyword she will fall madly in love with you and feel compelled to do as you say.”
"But... Does that not go against everything you have said? Were we not to tamper with her mind?" Asked her mother.
"Yea ... I thought that all emotions were supposed to develop on their own."
The mare in glasses regarded them for a while. Seemed to be considering what they had said, then asked a single question.
“Don't you want your daughter to love you?”
Mom and dad looked at each other and lowered their eyes.
”Yes...”
-:: Transmission ended ::-
Her whole world became a blurry static as the painfully short message ended far to quickly and too suddenly.
But Sweetie had seen all she needed to see.
-:: Initiate cry sequence // !Warning! // Tear sacs not found ::-
That was it. The ultimate proof that her parents did not love her. Or that she did not love them. That they had forced such emotions upon her. That they had installed a control program to make her love them and obey them.
She thought back with horror on all the times her parents had ordered her to do something. “Sweetie would you kindly clean your room. Would you please brush your teeth? No more cookies, Sweetie”
She had to run. She had to get away from all this. Her Heart-Drive shouted in protest that it could not be true.
But what else could it be then the truth?
She grabbed her helmet, and ran out into the rain.
***
As Sweetie bolted out into the rain, The self proclaimed doctor of pain emerged from a different door in the shed.
“How fasssscinating." he said to himself "She displays such curiosity, such emotions... such pain.”
He returned to his work and continued to work for several hours. Time seemed to melt away as he buried himself in his work.
Until he heard something returning to the yard.
He turned around and found not one, but several armored stallions standing in front of him, watching him with red glowing eyes. Some of them were in very bad shape, and covered in mud in places where the rain could not wash it away. He could hear the gravel in the gears as they tumbled into his yard and formed a line around him.
From the darkness emerged another familiar set of faces he had not seen in a long while.
“Oh, hi you old fools – Long time no see.”
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Sigh... This chapter started kind of well for Sweetie , by this story standard anyway , but at the end everything fell apart for her , again.
Is she ever going to be happy ? I wonder.
Oh , and I kind of like Dr Pain. He is creepy , but he shares my way of thinking (about what makes us who we are) , which makes him and the Dr with Twilight the two smartest ponies in the story in my opinion.
6448599
Thank you. I kind of like Dr pain too in a twisted way. He kind of became one of my favorite characters while writing this, and a lot of his thoughts about Identity are my thoughts as well. (They had to be - since I came up with them).
"You tried to turn me into your robot soldier slave!"
"You said I wasn't alive and tried to crush my hopes!"
"You burned my skin off!"
"You let them mind control me to love you!"
"And you, Rarity! You hit me, maybe, I think! And that's bad!"
osw3Tforgiveme
Uhh, Sweetie didn't you just jump off a rubber conveyor belt?
I thoroughly enjoyed Dr Pain. He's like me, except creepier. But his thoughts about about who we are and what we are reflect my own. He's like ,me. He's a philosopher.
Because of how much I love him, I'd like to point out the one place where he was slightly off.
What most computers do isn't truly thinking, though it comes close enough that I value it. A puppet doesn't come close to thinking. And if a golem, thinks, then I think whoever made it has accidentally created life.
Thinking thoughts and feeling emotions are not as different as most people believe. An intrinsic part of what we consider thinking is the very basics of emotion.
I think, believe, and feel, that thinking makes a sentient being like us.
However, I still agree with him on the value and importance of emotion and feeling. It is passion that turns a sentient being into a real person.
Everyone is made of sequences. Our sleep cycles, our senses, the majority of our responses to pain, our hunger, they are all complex reactions programmed into our brains by the configuration of our neurons. Most people's programs are a bit less efficient and we can't control them, but our mind could probably be completely reproduced by machine's. We just need some more complex machines.
In my experience, nothing can make rubber slippery. I've felt wet rubber, greased rubber, fake rubber, all kinds of rubber. Nothing can make it slippery.
First, I would like to point out that it's magic and technology.
Second, I want to express the utmost appreciation and joy that you recognize how fantastic it is to combine the two. So many people fall prey to the fallacy of segregating conventional technology and magic, and I adore the integration of natural technology and the supernatural.
It is even better that you define which aspects are completely electronic and which parts are both electronic and arcane.
Bravo, good sir. You've earned my favor many times over.
Cheers.
Love bioshock reference. "Would you kindly" keep up the good work with your awesome stories.
Wasn't one of her existential crises involving a toaster that thought it was a pony? Does this technically make this cannibalism?
I already made one a couple chapters ago.
Would I be correct in assuming this to be a Doctor Who reference? Or is it just another coincidence?
Why isn't THIS guy in the nut house? He has more reason to be in one than Screwloose.
I laughed way too hard at this minor typo.
Sweetie would use "aren't", not "ain't". "Ain't" is reserved for characters like Applejack, Apple Bloom, and so on.
CALLED IT.
Hmm... I don't think this is necessarily "grimdark" per se. Perhaps psychological horror, or maybe just dark fiction.
Probably why I like it.
(Though there are a select few stories I would consider "grimdark" that I actually like, since they approach that kind of philosophy with a much deeper understanding of the concepts.)
Pain is fun. Just the right amount of unhinged.
It's too bad he deliberately cut the recording. Manipulative to the extreme. At least we know what that control program was for. That will certainly be the in the finale....
I have 2 thoughts on my first read:
1: did he call them, and more importantly, is he on their side?
2: why do I imagine doctor pain as having Cletuses’ voice?
Geez, at this point, I am surprised Sweetie is not completely insane.
10968837
i imagine him sounding like 'rube goldfish' from spongebob