Chapter 8 - A Day in Court
Whatever it was, it was apparently terribly urgent – Antir rushed Adam through the throng of equines in town to what looked like a train station, where what apparently was a passenger train was waiting. She thrust a slip of paper into his hands, and didn’t allow him to stow it in his pouch. Must be a ticket of some sort. Did she buy this for me?
Right by the door, she grabbed a bench, then indicated that he should do the same. He had to sit side-saddle on the facing bench, on account of his backpack full of life-support equipment. As soon as he sat down, he heard a loud whistle outside, and then the motion of lurching to his left. They were in motion, to some place unknown. Nervously, he checked his suit’s readouts – ninety-four percent scrubber capacity remaining. Let’s hope we don’t run into any delays.
He passed the time taking another look at his ticket. There was a very ornate printing on both sides, but with two squares delineated on one side, and on the back, crudely-typeset printing. From X to Y, he realized. And a third word printed on the bottom, which he could not read.
Down the central corridor came another equine, one decked out in a navy blue blazer and cap. Dapper. There weren’t any other equines on the train, so Adam stood out like a sore thumb. After getting over some brief shock, it came directly to Adam and Antir. [kejlepileʃeˈje piˈse] it said. Without question, Antir showed it her ticket in her telekinetic grip, and the other equine – a train conductor, he figured – punched a hole in the ticket, using some sort of hoof-mounted tool. When it faced Adam, he copied Antir as best as he could. The other equine punched a hole in one of the squares in the ticket, then gave it back to him. Only one of them? Then it struck him. Hers is a round-trip ticket – and I’ll bet mine is as well. . . . Checking the back of his, he saw the three crudely-printed words on the back. One of those must say ‘round-trip,’ he concluded. Or something to that effect.
[ŋ̊uɹuɲ̊ˈɹu] It bowed its head, then went along to the next train car.
So that’s why she had me keep it in my hand, Adam surmised. But now that that’s done, I guess I could stow it. Slowly, he popped open a pouch – the one next to his tools, which he incidentally still had – and slipped it in. He saw Antir watching, but she didn’t stop him. He shrugged and clicked it shut, and settled himself in for what he was sure was a journey.
He became vaguely aware of a feeling of being shaken – and not by the train, either. He turned to face Antir, who held up a chart of faces in her telekinetic grip. Each of these faces had a different expression, and each were exaggerated somewhat. Is she asking me how I feel? So far, our facial expressions have matched up. I could take a guess. . . . He had twenty-four choices to use – forty in senary – and after a minute of browsing, eventually picked the one he hoped was the closest to nervousness. I’ve been stuffed inside a train carriage in a hurry, on the way to someplace I don’t know, to do something I don’t know yet. Yeah, you’d be nervous too.
In response, Antir took his hand in her telekinesis, then held it between her front hooves. Trying to reässure me? He returned the gesture, gripping the bottom hoof. Hey, wait a second. . . . He let go suddenly, then pointed at himself, then her, then finger-walked on his arm. He raised his eyebrow at the last gesture.
This gave Antir pause. She took a moment apparently to figure out what Adam wanted to ask, then gestured him over to a map in the train car. He recognized it at once – this was the map of Antir’s nation. With a hoof, she pointed at the central settlement, north of the great forest, then to the fortress to the east. Wait – we’re heading there? But that means. . . what, exactly? A sense of urgency, a swift train ride, and I didn’t even have to pay for a ticket. . . . His eyes went wide.
I’ve been summoned by their leaders.
He considered other options, but none of them made more sense than what he concluded at first. Of course I’m the first of my kind on the surface of Rhysling – but am I the first extra-planetary visitor? That remained to be seen. All Adam could do was sit back down, side-saddle, and wait out the train ride.
Just when he was getting some semblance of comfort within the Strauss suit, he heard the door open – the one that led to the car behind – and saw another equine walk through – not the conductor, nor was it obvious it was some rail worker. It took one look at the monster in the suit and rushed to the other side of the car. Adam could only snicker at the sight – Hey, I’m not that ugly! Antir turned to him, and he could only shrug. You get used to it, he wanted to tell her. Imagine if you opened your mouth on Earth.
A few moments later, he heard an odd sound of something dropping out of the car ahead – then he saw the corresponding door open, and the same pony started carefully and quietly walking to the other car, hoping not to disturb him. Well, too late for that, buddy. Adam held up his hand, and gave it a slight wave – a simple wave, a greeting that so far the equines have understood well enough. It paused, saw the gesture, and cautiously returned it. It put its hoof back down, and crossed the aisle to the next train car, apparently trying to avoid eye contact.
–·––
After what felt like an hour, Adam heard the same train whistle, then the slight whine of the brakes. He felt himself lurch forward just so, and saw out the window that their surroundings were passing by slower, before stopping altogether.
They had arrived.
As soon as the train was motionless, Antir got up and headed to the doorway, beckoning him to follow. He had to duck down below the frame, as he had before with the library, and when he emerged on the platform, he noticed a large crowd of equines here, all with varying degrees of shock on their faces. He could swear one of them even fainted at his sight. Antir led him through the crowd – without a word on her part, though he could tell that the others were muttering things amongst themselves. Adam could only ignore all of that and move on with her – they were not his concern.
Compared to the streets of the first settlement, those of the fortress were neatly cobblestoned, though cracks were starting to show, as he expected. The equines here were dressed, actually dressed, with a variety of vest-like garments and hats, much of which Adam could recognize – straw boating hats, bowties, bowler hats, and some even had pocket watches – articles that he would have been wearing at the turn of the century. And yet, despite supposedly being from here, despite having a seamstress in town – one whom she knew well, to boot – Antir walked these streets stark naked. Perhaps it’s more of a class thing? Adam thought. Guess I’m at least modestly dressed, even discounting the suit.
His mind was still on those pocket watches when he passed by a shop that carried timepieces, and he had to stop to admire them. There was quite the variety – from tall grandfather clocks (well, tall to these equines; they only came up to his neck) to small items that had leather-like bands on them – wristwatches. Well, more like hoof-watches to them. Adam thought for a moment – what if I had one of those for myself? They look rather expensive – I can’t imagine how an equine could make such fine mechanical devices with their hooves and mouths. And then, looking down at Antir, who had noticed him pause but was urging him onward, he remembered about her horn. Right. That’s gotta be a unicorn’s work. A fine-tuned control over telekinesis should help produce them. Then he saw a lone unicorn, presumably the shopkeeper, trying to shoo him away. Between that and Antir tugging him, he knew he had to go. But then, these unicorns may have monopolized the means of production. I guess they don’t care?
Eventually they made their way onto a long and broad street – a main one, most likely, and it must lead directly to the palace. His mind went back to the children’s book, full of places around their nation. That one there, right in the rear of the complex – white and tall, wasn’t it? I forget the mane color – red? Blue? Green? Guess I’ll find that out when I enter.
He didn’t see many carts and carriages on the cobblestones, and just about everyone here walked. Adam thought it strange that they were limited in their options. But then again, it was implied to be a fortress. Maybe certain laws made for military contingencies are still on the books. Or it’s a point of pride that everything they could need and want is right within walking distance of their homes. Or it’s simply that their technological innovations have gone in a different direction. So many reasons, yet he couldn’t decide on them just yet – not when literally every one of them stopped to gawk at whatever this thing was, walking next to one of their own.
It was a long walk indeed, but finally they made it to the front of the palace. Four equines stood by a portcullis, armored in gold, their helmets reminiscent of Roman galea helmets, complete with crests in the varying colors – their mane colors? Yes, their tails appear to match. These must have been guards stationed to protect the palace, two each flanking each side of the way. None of them reacted to Antir, but they swiftly drew their spears and pointed them straight at Adam. He thought it was possible for the Strauss to stop their metal tips, but didn’t want to chance it. But then, Antir held up the scroll, the same one that had apparently summoned him here, and after a moment of closely reading it, one of them lifted its spear and returned to its post. The other three copied, granting him access. Adam could only chuckle as he followed Antir inside – well, can’t say I’ve had that happen to me before.
The doorway was tall, very tall – he estimated that it could fit three men stacked on each other’s shoulders. And the rest of the palace was no less lavish, either – beautifully constructed out of carved marble with inlaid gold, stained-glass windows depicting figures and events – probably historical or religious, he thought – and carpeted down the center in a deep red. And at every point and turn, there was at least one guard, very often two or three. Every so often, other ponies would come down the hallway, sometimes crossing their path, but only a few of them actually noticed him – and the ones that did reacted. . . well, predictably was the word Adam wanted to use.
Right when they came up to another set of tall, heavy doors, ones guarded by two armored unicorns, Antir stopped – and made him stop as well. Beyond these doors, he guessed, lays the one who had summoned me. It must be in session with another matter. Guess all I can do is wait here. Adam sat down on the floor, but Antir prompted him to stand back up. So I’m about to be called in? Or does nobody know for sure? He sighed and crossed his arms, taking care not to push down any of the controls on his chest.
After a few moments of standing around, Adam checked his suit readouts – eighty-four percent scrubber remaining. Eh, whatever. But as he was putting the display away, there came a thunderous knocking, and the guards opened the heavy doors with their telekinesis. Finally, Adam was permitted to enter, and see who had summoned him. As he had suspected, there was that large white equine he had seen in the book, with both wings and a horn, sitting fast upon a golden daïs – but by its side was another one, also with wings and a horn, but much smaller than the first, and in coloration was composed almost entirely of shades of blue – save perhaps for the sclerae of her eyes. Its regalia similarly reflected its appearance, but it had a lunar motif, compared to the white one’s apparently solar. So do they switch out during dawn and dusk? Adam pondered. Would make sense – but why is the nocturnal one awake still?
[xõ jeˈɹe kiˈsɯ̃] Antir said, promptly bowing before the two. Well, when in Rome. . . . Adam knelt before them as well. I hope this is passable behavior.
The white one turned its head to Antir. [xõ ɑ̃ˈtiɹ l̩sɑˈpɑ . ezeɡˈlej ɡoˈɑ̃ bl̩d tem̥elˈm̥ɯ] Same dialect, I’ll have to assume – but my, that voice! Then it turned to Adam. [ɑ ɹiˈkě ɑlˈβu]
[sulɑˈlɑj pɹ̩keleˈkin̥ ɣebeɤzˈle jeɹe] Antir replied. [ʒomozuˈɹu ɸileˈse jɑɹɑˈzl̩ ʒoɑlɟɑˈɹu]
[mɯl ʒɤzɯŋˈmɯ] the blue one spoke. Unlike the white one’s, its voice seemed more fractured and defective. Had it not spoken in a long time? he guessed. If so, I wonder what that story might be. Adam thought that now was a good time to break from his kneel.
[mɯl ɤhsɯ̃ceˈm̥ɯ̌] the white one spoke again, this time pointing a hoof at Adam, while apparently addressing Antir.
[em] She finally stood from her bow, and shook her head. Was I a bit early on that one? [ɑn ɤx ɹ̩sjɑˈsl̩ eŋbizɯ̃ɟeˈmɯ]
[βẽˈlej mɯl ʃosɑn̥ɑlikɹiˈβɑ̌] the blue one said.
[mɯlɟẽ deˈŋe seɹkisɯ̃jˈsil ʃosɑn̥ɑlikɹiˈɹɑ] she replied.
[mɯˈlej ɹiˈɣě ɸɯsɯ̃lcem̥u] the white one asked.
This one gave Antir a moment of pause – you didn’t think of something, did you? She looked to Adam in some mixture of pondering and calm panic. Eventually she sighed, in apparent resignation, and turned her face back to them. [eŋbizɯ̃ˈɹɯ].
[βẽˈlej suˈsɑ m̥eˈsɤ ʃõlɑˈβu] The white one’s tone turned deeper, and it extended a hoof to Antir. [βẽˈlej m̥eˈsɤ ʃõlɑˈβu ɹ̩sˈjɑ ɸɯsɯ̃lkẽɲ̊eceˈm̥ɯ]
Antir nodded firmly. [ɹ̩sˈlej ʒoɑnɑˈɹu]
The white one added, [mɯˈlej ɸelˈse mɯlzl̩ɑˈmɑ dl̩ɡɑ̃βozɑnɟɑˈmu ki mɯl ɣõ ɤxesˈtil ɸɯsɯ̃lɯxeceˈm̥ɯ] She stamped hard upon the floor, loud enough even to make him shake in his suit – and behind him, the door opened up, to an empty hall. I guess we were last in line? Adam pondered. For now, at least. Surely they can’t be done for the day.
He nudged Antir on the shoulder, and mimed drawing on something, then pointed at both equines before them, then mimed talking with his hand.
Antir gave it some thought, then she got up and started walking out of the room, gesturing for him to follow behind. Adam shrugged – better not overstay my welcome in this court. He followed her outside the room, but she didn’t stop – not just yet. I guess we’ll have to handle this outside.
Once they had stepped outside the palace grounds entirely and onto a grassy knoll, she pulled her trusty chalkboard and chalk and started making some drawings. A few moments of thought and doodling later, she showed him an equine stick figure, a rod-and-sphere arrow, and on its other end, a humanoid stick figure. But there was more – there was a three-pointed star projecting off of the equine figure’s head, and a diagonally-crosshatched pattern on that section of the board. The same pattern appeared above the arrow-like symbol, and the humanoid figure had a similar three-pointed star above its head, but it had a spiral-like pattern instead of crosshatching.
I think I know what that means, but I’d better check. He pointed at the hash, then mimed hand-talking, raising his eyebrow to indicate that it was a question. She squinted, then shook her head. She pointed at the triangle shape – then flexed her front hoof to show a ‘hand’-talking gesture. Okay, so the hash is their language, and the spiral represents English – meaning they want me to learn their language. Don’t need to tell me twice!
First things first, the name of the language. He pointed at the spiral. “English.” Then he pointed at the hash, and gave his best attempt at naming their language. “Rhyslinger.” Antir gave it some thought, then copied him, though with some changes. She pointed at the spiral. [iŋɡl̩ˈneɹ] Then to the hash. [ɤxˈn̥eɹ] “Ukh-nerr,” Adam tried, pointing at the hash. Antir squinted, then shook her head. [ɤxˈᵑǃeɹ] Oh, right. Voiceless nasals can be clicks.“Ukh-ǃerr,” he tried again – this time to her approval. Good enough for now. Their language called itself Ukhǃerr.
But she wasn’t done yet. She erased the board with a cloth, then started drawing again. This one took a lot longer than he initially thought. It’s going to be a long and complicated ceremony, isn’t it? Or some sort of trial? A test of citizenship? He grabbed a swig of water from the suit’s tank, while he basked back and waited for Antir to finish her next statement – which may as well amount to a thesis for all the time she spent drawing. Finally, she flipped the board around to show him – humanoid stick figure, rod-and-sphere arrow symbol with the spiral question mark, then a whole series of drawing of humanoid figures doing various actions – chopping wood with an axe, forging metal with a hammer, picking fruits off a tree, washing something on the outside of a house, carrying a large box, and so many more besides.
All of them, however, were led back with another rod-and-sphere arrow to a humanoid figure receiving something. It looked like various parallel horizontal lines leading up to its hand, but a symbol above its head – resembling a letter S, but with the shape broken and each end nested within each other’s loop. He pointed at the symbol, raising an eyebrow. With her telekinetic grip, she reached into a pouch sewn into her bag, and out came a small golden discus. No, not just a discus – a coin. This is money. She held it up for Adam to look at, and he took it from her grip.
On one face was printed a yin-yang-like symbol, composed of two equine figures – no, not just any equine figures. These had both wings and horns, just like the two he found in the palace. This realization was further reinforced by the addition of a sun with rays above, and a crescent moon below. A balance between day and night, between light and dark – they must be founded upon this sort of balance, aren’t they? On the other side of the coin, there was quite a bit of engraving. Six words formed a ring on the outside rim of the design, while in the center was that same broken-S symbol he saw earlier. A single pip was also engraved below, which to him indicated that this was exactly one unit of whatever currency this was. Better keep this for later, he thought – but when he tried to slip it inside a pouch, Antir snatched it right out of his grip and slipped it back into her pouch. Yeah, I think I’d better earn one first.
Then his eyes went back to the chalk drawing. He would receive such coins as payment for. . . whatever actions they were. Adam tried to find a deeper meaning in those pictures, but nothing really jumped out at him. Not the way the figures were facing, not which way they appeared to be going – they all appeared to be random acts of labor. Then his eyes widened – labor. Yes, that’s it. I can’t just barge into their home, I’ve got to earn it.
In other words, Adam had been ordered to get a job.
·––·
On their way back to the train station, Adam checked his monitor. Seventy-three percent scrubber capacity remaining, but it had gotten a bit warmer outside. He shrugged and trudged along with Antir. I’ll have plenty of time to get back to the lander and change this out. He chuckled – man, Neil and the Apollo crew had it easy on just the Moon.
It was right about then that Adam stopped by the clockmaker’s shop again. He couldn’t help but peer inside again, and see each of them tick by in almost perfect harmony. He pointed out the shop to Antir, who reluctantly followed him inside. He had to duck below the doorway, of course. Lousy things just aren’t up to my standards.
The ticking only got louder now that the glass barrier outside wasn’t in their way. The shop was rather empty – not even the shopkeeper behind the counter to assist them, or to shoo them away a second time – but Adam knew to be careful around here. I must seem like a bull in a china shop, he thought. I must not break anything. Lord knows how expensive that’s going to be – even without a known dollar conversion rate.
If nothing else, Adam would have liked one of these timepieces as a souvenir – which doubled as being something actually useful: telling time specifically on Rhysling, even if by their rules. The only trouble was which one he would have. Grandfather clocks were right out, due to their sheer size, and most of the rest contained wood – an organic material that would not do well in the sterile locker. The watches could not conceivably fit around the wrists of the Strauss, and he couldn’t see through the arms of the suit, so he couldn’t make it work by putting it on before embarking.
Wait. . . pocket watches! Yes, those would work just fine! All the pocket watches in the shop were concentrated in one place – within a glass display beneath the countertop. Each one laid open, allowing shopgoërs to observe the time in perfect sync with all the others. Many of them had a picture frame inside the lid – all empty, allowing a customer to insert one for him- or herself. Some of them had a third hand, one that barely ticked by. But when he reflexively tried to get a closer look, pressing his helmet’s face up against the other glass, he saw that they, yes, they were ticking by, just slower than he thought. And some more of them had a small window cut in the middle of the face, each showing yellow. But only a few of them had all three of these features – picture frame, third hand, facial window. But each and every one of them, ultimately, was divided up the same way, just like the ones he saw in that one children’s book, the one that indicated the time of the postal-equine’s day. Right now it was just after their noon.
While I’m still thinking about that, he thought, I may as well ask Antir how exactly their day is divided up. All the way up, too. Adam searched his pouches, but realized he’d left in such a hurry he’d forgotten to pack a notebook and pen. Drat! He tapped Antir on her shoulder, then mimed using chalk on chalkboard. She used her telekinesis to grab them from her bag – the board had already been erased – and hand them to him. Next, Adam drew a solar symbol on the left, another solar symbol on the right, and between them placed a rod-and-sphere arrow symbol, purely out of habit. Next he added a crescent moon below the arrow, then the spiral question mark above, then started putting scores along the arrow, dividing it up more or less into four equal pieces. He showed her the results, and she gave it some thought as to what he meant.
Eventually, she took the chalk and board from his hands, and erased the latter with the usual cloth. She turned it vertically, then started writing – judging by the generally horizontal direction it was taking. It was only a few moments before she showed him the board again. This time, he was able to see that his earlier hypothesis of senary time was indeed correct. Simply put, according to her writings, one day equaled the time from one sun to one moon back to one sun again – so day to night to day – but the other units confounded him. The two periods of day/night were meant to equal twenty buckets, two thousand cups, and two million drops of fluid. This certainly gave him pause, especially that last unit, which was extraordinarily high – what sort of system is she describing?
Then his eyes went wide, as he realized what this metaphor was referencing. A water clock. Of course! The system he was observing was much more complicated than a series of buckets spilling into each other that he would see in imperial China, but the principle was much the same. But then Antir, upon an apparent second thought, turned the board away and circled the two million units. This only further confused him – was that especially important to them? Then he remembered how few pocket watches had that third hand. No – it’s circled; to them, that just means it’s optional.
It only strengthened his water-clock hypothesis – the rate of flow of water itself wasn’t measured at first, but one ‘minute’ was however much would fill the smaller cup. The cup would then empty, either manually or by some primitive mechanism, into the bucket – which itself would be emptied after an ‘hour.’ It took a thousand drops of seconds to fill a minute, a hundred cups of minutes to fill the bucket, and the bucket of hours would spill out twenty times a day – ten in the day, ten at night. Obviously those numbers were senary, but Adam had had enough practice converting numbers – twelve hours for a complete day – six of actual daylight, and six of night – thirty-six minutes per hour, and two hundred sixteen seconds per minute. Within the space of perhaps three minutes, maybe five, Adam had reconstructed an ancient water clock in his head. Maybe I should’ve gone into engineering, he thought. But who knows? Maybe some of those clocks still exist –
[ɑj ɑj ɑj] – a voice broke his train of thought. Apparently the shopkeeper had merely been away, and when it returned, had spotted the monster peering in the window earlier right in the middle of its shop. [ɹiˈɣě ɹ̩sim̥eˈlej se ɑnɑβiˈmẽ] It started waving to the door, at both Adam and Antir. [ˈʀo ˈʀo ˈʀo] Is it trying to shoo me away like some kind of animal? he thought. Not good for business.
[xoˈlo tɑlsɑˈxɑ ʃɤtem̥elceˈm̥ɯ] Antir fired back. She stepped forth, to put herself between him and the shopkeeper. [mɯl m̥eˈsɤ n̥ɑɹɑŋ̊sũˈɸu]
The shopkeeper stopped and looked around. It seemed satisfied that none of its wares had even the slightest scratch on them – then snorted. [ki mɯl ʃokɑʃõβiˈmẽ mɯl ʃokiloβiˈmẽ] Without another word, he went to his place behind the counter, but watched Antir and especially Adam like a hawk. Yep, like a bull in a china shop to that guy.
Adam, meanwhile, knelt back down to the glass display by the counter, where the pocket watches were displayed. Admittedly, he still had his heart set on one of these – particularly that one there, dead center, on a blue velvet cushion in its own box. Now now, Adam, be humble. I think a cheaper timepiece will do. . . .
[ɣo tem̥elˈɸɯ̌βẽlej ɸɯsɯ̃lˈɸɯ] the shopkeeper said. When he didn’t get an answer, Adam felt his head being nudged. Oh, it’s talking to me. He looked up to it, its face looking a lot different than one of frustration. Now, he could tell that it was sensing a trade opportunity right in front of him. I guess now you’re coming to your senses.
Adam nodded, then pointed at the center pocket watch – and accidentally tapped the glass, which made the shopkeeper wince. Its horn lit up, and its blue telekinetic glow surrounded the item, box and all, lifting it out of the display case and setting it on the counter.
Antir noticed the activity, and came over to see his selection. [ɹideˈɡě] she told the shopkeeper. Adam could swear he saw a few beads of sweat trail down her head. Is is that expensive? Oh dear. . . .
[ɑˈʎɑ kuɹsojˈsɑ̃ deˈɡe] he replied.
She then gave Adam a look that basically said “Well, you’d better save up big time, because that is not a cheap buy.” Adam could only sigh in resignation – one that quickly turned into a twisted determination. This setback only gave him that much more motivation to earn his keep on Rhysling – I don’t know how long it’ll take, he vowed, but I’ll earn enough to buy that.
Adam got up, bowed to the shopkeeper, then headed to the door. This time for once, Antir followed him as well. Let’s see if I remember the way to the train station. . . .
As it turned out, he did not. This fortress-city was much too large for him to memorize the way within a single trip, so he had to rely on Antir for assistance – who, as a native, would have memorized the entire place. Down to the last cobblestone too, he thought. Probably.
Antir pulled a train ticket from her bag, then held it up to Adam. Right, should get mine out. Was it this pouch? No, was it this one? Gah, it’s gotta be – this one, there we go! He pulled his ticket from the third pouch that he tried, and held it up to her. Antir nodded, and led him through. She showed her ticket to a clerk in the booth, who let her within; Adam did the same.
The line to the train – their train – was essentially nonexistent. I guess the way from here to the town isn’t very popular, he thought. He ducked his head and stepped into the opened car, right behind his guide. Again he had to contend with sitting side-saddle, taking up the entire thing.
The train whistled, and he felt it start back home.
––·–·
Elena had given up on finding things to do while waiting for the probe, and ended up busying herself with nothing at all. Meditation allowed her to reflect upon her decision to sign up for Zodiac-Altair, and the present-day consequences of it.
She had heard from Commander Darcy that it was currently early July of 1997 – so, not nearly as long as she had thought, but she’d certainly missed a lot. Worse still was that interstellar communications were limited to news from Rhysling’s surface and Zodiac-Altair itself, and very rarely the other way. The only thing they knew for sure was that, in 1996, United States President Clinton had been reëlected, as had been Russian President Boris Jelcin.
A voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. “Dr. Weiss?”
Elena recognized the accent as Dr. Konstantinov’s. “Is there something that you need?” she asked.
“Only to tell that RPMR-1 has returned fresh data from Rhysling’s surface,” he said. He pushed himself off the wall and headed to the gym in the Virgo module of Zodiac.
“Es wird au höchschti Ziit defür,” Elena said to herself. She thrust off the wall back out of Zodiac, and headed to Altair’s bridge. Her terminal was waiting for her, screen flashing with some sort of alert. She hit a key to wake it up, and the screen splashed with charts and diagrams of dizzying variety. It took the screen a moment to paginate everything, and only when it did was she able to start reading.
The probe was able to get a more detailed look at what elements made up Rhyslinger life – besides the usual suspects, there were also various hydrocarbons, phosphorus in the soil, and water – the last of which she already knew to be on Rhysling. Chances were high that life here could be compatible with that on Earth. She sighed – which made Dr. Somerset’s isolation that much more important. So far as she could understand, he could potentially survive here for a day, maybe two, but eventually he might succumb to some alien disease. So far they knew that Rhysling’s atmospheric composition was similar to Earth’s – as was its soil composition – both of which could support a human colony.
But she couldn’t determine anything else just yet – she made a note to run some remote system diagnostics from orbit, to make sure the probe was working correctly. And even then, she thought, she’d have to run this particular experiment again, as this data, despite their best efforts, might actually turn out to be faulty. “Commander?” she called out. “Are you near the bridge now?”
“One moment!” his voice echoed from Altair’s central spindle – as far as she could tell. She killed the time by transferring the data to the ship’s server, but in truth, it was a few moments more before the Québécois emerged from the exit. “How now, did something come up?”
“The results did, from the experiment.” She indicated the screen. “I believe we are ready for remote diagnostics. But. . . .” She sighed. “I cannot recall how that is done.”
Darcy snapped his fingers. “We have documentation just for that scenario.” Then he put his hand aside. “Only question is where I put it last – since I ran initial diagnostics on the probe fleet. Or was it Anton who held the manual? Hmm. . . .” He started looking around the bridge, seeking anything that even remotely looked like a book. “Où s’qui-yé, où s’qui-yé, où s’qui-yé. . . ?” He was short on luck, and grumbled in frustration. “God-damned book, té où!?”
Elena bravely decided to speak up. “Commander, with all due respect,” she asked – “are you sure you or Anton did not leave it by the probes?”
“Quoi? Oh – let me check.” One thrust of his legs, and he was out of the bridge. She sighed – if what she said was true, then he wouldn’t be terribly different from her brother – always losing his stuff right by where he used it last. He grew out of that behavior eventually – or so she had hoped. It seemed some people never would, if the Commander was anything to go by.
“Eureka!” he shouted – and Elena could only laugh at the revelation. It was as she thought. He reappeared at the bridge’s entrance, manual in hand. “You were right – it was left by the probes. Now, let’s see. . . .” He started flipping through the English pages, trying to find the relevant part. “Here’s local diagnostics, but what about from orbit? . . .
“Ah! Here we are.” Commander Darcy cleared his throat. “Well, that’s. . . a little too easy. Just transmit this line of code? Is that really all?”
“Perhaps you should try it, Commander.” Elena shrugged. “What is the worst that could happen?”
“I should remind you, Weiss, that probe down there is the only one we have that’s working.” He pointed out the window. “We absolutely cannot afford any errors in our methodology. It was a damned miracle that Somerset was able to fix it – and with the help of the Indigenous, to boot!” Elena had to suppress some giggling, remembering what the Indigenous looked like – but he noticed. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Commander.” Now was not the time to tell him about the horses she had seen.
After some further reading, he concluded, “Diagnostic results should appear on the terminal that sent it. Makes sense.” He turned to his terminal. “Are you absolutely sure it’s safe for me to proceed?”
“Jawohl!” She nodded firmly. “You may transmit when ready.”
Several dozen keystrokes later, the diagnostic command was on its way to the surface, via two relay satellites.
Stats
Page generated in 0.025 seconds
Total duration
1,061 users online
2,060,283 hits today, 2,054,621 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Huh. We're very early in the show timeline if Luna is still recovering from taking a rainbow to the face. Adam's going to be there for all kinds of interesting events. (As an example, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Discord can speak fluent English. Or he just speaks whatever language he wants and everyone listens in their native tongue.)
But that's a ways off. For now, the royal decree regarding aliens is "We'll allow it, but you're not getting hoof-outs." Very practical. Now to see how Adam employs himself. And just what Elena needs to confirm.
This story has to be one of the most well-researched stories on this site. The detail on engineering, language, and maths is absolutely amazing. I love every little detail that has been shown so far.
will we ever see this language barrier issue be solved?
it's really worn out its welcome
Considering wrist watches were invented for a guy to have both hands free while he was flying on a balloon that's very weird. Curious, interesting, but still weird. History does that with an astonishing frequency.
10942698
Again that is a very sensible royal decree.
Also yet another nice chapter.
10942790
Is language ever truly solved?
Hmmm.... Yes, and no.
In space, because there's no weight, so it's just as easy to hold a 200kg something in place as it is to hold a light book.
However, since their mass isn't any different than when they're on Earth or in orbit--moving the objects are a great deal more complicated.
And it's even worse when you suddenly discover that it's NOT how much force you are applying to an object to get it to start moving vs how much force you need to apply to get it to stop--especially when you suddenly discover that the relative equation you have to pay attention to is the amount of actual WORK you have to put into getting it to stop HAS TO EQUAL the WORK it took to get going!
Here's the example:
Say you have a big massive object you need to move from one side of your compartment to the other. You have to apply a force to get it to start moving.
Bracing yourself on a wall, you push the object with all your might and it starts moving................verrrry slowwwwly......
You're not happy with how slow it's moving--so you reposition yourself and brace to deliver another push on the object....and it's moving a little faster--but not good enough to get to where you want it before lunchtime...
So you repeat, repeat, repeat--and soon, it's moving just fine and dandy.
Soon, its getting close to where you want to put it, so you get ready to grab it.
Only it's going way too fast for you to just stop it on a dime.
Plus, and even worse, because you wanted it to get there before noon, you had let it sail along its way and didn't actually start trying to slow it down until it was much closer to its intended destination than was wise for the speed it's going.
And because the damned thing has so much mass, and all those accumulated pushes got it going so fast, you've got to apply a shit-ton of force to get it to stop before it makes a brand new unplanned portal in one of the walls of your compartment.
Which makes for one squished sad astronaut.
You can experience the above example easily enough even while on Earth: put your heavy object on a dolly with really good wheels inside a warehouse with really good smooth floors and play with that for a bit--you'll discover the same phenomena here on the ground.
10942842
It seems ludicrously short sighted to me. Although that's coming from a human perspective rather than an immortal who might not find an alien all that exciting.
It's first contact with an entire new race and planet - the number of unanswered questions, potential benefit and threat to both sides is huge. They have no idea of the extent of humanity's intentions, nor if they're contacting any other countries. Doing anything which distracts him from establishing better communication is insane.
Then there's the risk. Twilight seemingly understands why he can't eat their food or even risk cross-contamination of the air, and yet the princesses want him to go do manual labour in his cumbersome and delicate life support suit? What's he even supposed to work for? So he can buy frivolous mechanical timepieces? It's not like he's relying on them for food.
10942790
I think it was a neat idea, honestly. BUT, every time any of the ponies speaks I basically just skip the entire sequence, because I don't even know what those symbols are meant to represent. I have no way to sound it out until Adam does it for me, which is frustrating. I can work with not knowing what the ponies are saying since this whole thing is from Adam's point of view, but not being able to even know what sounds they are making is doing nothing but making me feel a bit miffed. So I skip it entirely.
I like the realistic take on certain things in this story, but having to have a degree in xenolinguistics (a bit dramatic, I know, sorry) JUST to be able to know what sounds the ponies are making is tedious. Needlessly obtuse, even. It's so needless that Adam isn't even calling Twilight by her proper pony name, but rather his humanized version in his head. Antir instead of ɑ̃ˈtiɹ.
Author, if you are by chance reading this, I like the phonetic thing you're doing, but I would also urge you to add a pure English description of the phonetic sounds the ponies are making. Your efforts are being wasted here, at least from my point of view. Because I, and as I also assume, many others cannot read the phonetic alphabet you're using.
The big problem early space tech had, was using tech so old thatyou couldnt borrow more up to date software that was available to the public, such as voice recognition systems.
Apparently the earliest attempt at a commercial voice recognition system was in the 1970s and was supposed to be able to handle multiple voices, but I cant remember the name or where the article got buried.
10943014
That's why I went and found a IPA text-to-speech website (this one) so I could at least hear what the ponies are saying.
"[H]orn" should be singular here.
The bolded word should be "who."
The word(?) of the day is:
KETSUSHI
Google Translate says that means "missing history." Huh.
So we've currently got (note that '-' represents a long vowel)
YU- KO-NOMA HO-HA KETSUSHI
Or possibly
YU-KO-NOMAHO-HAKETSUSHI if it's all one big word.
ユーコーノマホーハケツシ in katakana.
Interesting how this version of Equestria is so hypercapitalist, they put no value on a non-monetised contact effort.
I find it silly that they are worried about work for an alien. I would think they would be more interested and concerned about trade. Trade in goods and in ideas (dangerous and useful).
I'm sorry, but... a job? They ordered him to get a job? He doesn't seem to be using much in the way of their resources; he's not eating their food or drinking their water, he's literally not even breathing their air, he's taken very few object and those few he has were given to him, and are so minor I doubt Celestia knows of them or cares. Ordering Adam to get a job and earn their money is just a weird non sequitur. I understand that it will probably prove useful to Adam learning their language quicker, interacting with more indigenous more often, but it'd make a lot more sense if Adam concluded that for himself, as the one whose professional job it is to learn their language, rather than be ordered to by their national leaders for no readily apparent reason.
And what's with Adam allowing them to put him on a train without knowing it's destination or getting any reassurance that they'll be back in range of his safe air supply within the time limit, or even trying to communicate that time limit to anyone? Really, what would he have done if he was wrong about the tickets being two-way and they tried to make him spend the night in Canterlot? Run away and walk back to Ponyville on foot? I don't think the scrubber would've made it. I can't believe he had no problems with this scenario after the first close-call.
10943304
It seems like Google Translate doesn't work well with phonetic Japanese. It was pointed out to me that "mahō" is "magic." But the thing is that if I put that - either in katakana or in Latin characters, I just get "maho" back out.
Tsushi is earth.
Something about earth (or Earth) and magic, I guess
EDIT: Okay, after much faffing about with a romaji dictionary, I have
Yūkō = friendship
Mahō = magic
Tsushi = Earth or earth or ground
No = possessive particle (potentially)
"YŪKŌ NO MAHŌ" = "Friendship's magic"/"magic of friendship"?
I think the next bit is "HA KE TSUSHI"
Unfortunately HA and KE have a few too many potential meanings for me to make a strong guess, but TSUSHI is probably Earth.
10943530
your pfp is oddly fitting, and then again he might have mistranslated what they wanted to do but hes in their land, its only fair he went to help and contribute at the same time it'll forces him to interact more.
"Is is that expensive?"
"Is it that expensive?"?
10942921
Put more succinctly, in micro/zero gravity, weight is less, but inertia is the same. Sure, you can spin a one ton piece of equipment around, but you'd better not put your hand between it and a bulkhead.
10943530
If I where Adam the only reason I would get on the train would be if I was absolutely confident that Twilight remembered his Panic to get back to the ship the next morning.
Twilight would know how long it would take the train to get to Canterlot, and to get back, and would have calculated how much time they could safely spend in Canterlot.
Adam in this instance is putting a tremendous amount of trust in Twilight.
10943398
I too am curious about the authors decision, in Celestia's priorities.
Wait, assuming Adam correctly understood what Twilight was telling him, Celestia and Luna want him to get a job?
An unknown alien lifeform landed on their planet. As rulers their first concern isn't where he's from or why he's there or if he comes in peace or if there are more of them coming or how long he plans to stay? They aren't concerned that he apparently can't interact with their environment outside of his protective suit or that he got Twilight to help him find and fix some strange alien device? They just want to make sure he's not a freeloader? That does not seem like good judgment on their part.
Uhhh, you aren't gonna tell the guys up in space about this?
Are you actually serious?
It is interesting that they seem to assume that the alien visitor would be familiar with the concept of money. It's a fairly abstract concept.
10944203 That's what I ALWAYS tell aliens that land in MY backyard! "GET A JOB, YA FREELOADIN' GREYS!! STOP PROBING MAH FAMILY AND DISSECTING MAH CATTLE!!!" That's how ya learn them dang aliens!
And if that doesn't work, you fly a fighter jet up the butthole of their spaceship.
contraditorium.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/helloboys.jpg
And now that humans know they can live on Equestria, they can send the invasion force to slaughter all the native life and expand their conquest of the universe!
Random Dalek turns its eyestalk to Alondro, "Daddy?"
10944115 10944203
After a thousand years of dealing with Canterlot nobility, Celestia is so done with moochers.
I'd learn Rhyslinger just to tell them to go fuck themselves. Who the hell tells the alien to get a job?
Imagine if we made peaceful first contact with a species that landed on earth and the local leadership told them to get to work. I wouldn't blame them if they just left.
10944598
10944694
As a rule of thumb, any alien civilization advanced enough for long distance space travel is the kind of group you don't want to cross.
10943398
10943414
10943530
10944203
10944694
They might have simply been asking, "What is the job you do?"
10946828
Possible, but that would mean that Adam didn't actually answer that question, and Antir Sparkle didn't try to ask again, or clarify the question, or anything along those lines - and that would also seem a little strange.
Well, he did try to snatch her bit, so maybe she assumed he's a conman, lol.
Catching up on the past couple chapters, some thoughts:
1) I think Adam mispronounced Rarity's name in a way that happened to mean something else. Something unflattering. I'm curious to see what he called her.
2) The "human gets a job" trope is overplayed and nonsensical. Reverse this, and imagine an alien landing on Earth. Would the local governmnet tell it get a job? Do you really see some alien working as a cashier or day laborer? No, of course not.
3) Going to echo the sentiments I keep seeing in the comments: the language barrier is really a drag. I understand that it's the point of the fic, but the implementation is painful at times. Especially when it's weeks between chapters, you can't expect your readers to remember what fshjkasfdhasdfkhasdfjk meant from two weeks prior. I recommend a glossary of new words in the author's notes, and I recommend that you either drop the special characters (how do you even pronounce "ʒoɑlɟɑˈɹu"?) entirely, or add English character equivalents in parenthesis after each word so we can at least try to make something out of it. It's lot easier to remember something we can attach sounds to. I know who Antir is, but as I write this I have no recollention of what characters make up her name.
4) For all the complexity of the fic...you appear to be engaging in fairly simple word/syllable substitution, at least in the cases Iv'e been able to decipher. Even if English and Equish both have similar grammar and identical matching of concepts between words, which is often not the case even between human languages, there's no particular reason why the same word would have the same number of syllables in each language.
10947146
While I agree with you on most points, Equestrian society has a much more casual view of 'first contact' than Earth. There are dozens of sapient species on the planet, and even contact with other worlds/parallel universes are not entirely unheard of. So it might not be too outrageous for Equestria to not want to give a fat stipend to every strange being that comes along.
Does Equestria have monthly visitors from space? An extraterrestrial with alien technology arrives and the first thing they say is to go get a job. They seem uninterested or unaware of the implications of it. That or the princesses already know everything about humans and their world via some method and is cynical of them.