An Ally Called Preponderance

by Myriad Kay

January 11, 2016. 11:00 PM

I'm on a plane to Washington now. The remainder of this day passed in a blur. Many conversations happened, but none stuck. I should have been writing, giving myself those anchors I so desired, but I could never tell where it was going. There were no distinct arcs, no excitement of discovery. There was only fear and hope, dancing around one another like oil and water.

The two Veilspawn died. For all their semi-animalistic intelligence and clever planning, they were unprepared for a point-blank detonation. While the strength of Sweetie Belle's magic pushing the Veilspawn away was what saved her own life, it was its green aura that ended theirs. The pilot, sent from Mount Weather at the first word of trouble, made a judgment call that the magically-outlined creatures were far enough from the car for him to fire a rocket without harming the occupants. It was a good call, I feel. Anything less and they may have blinked away to hunt again another day.

Scootaloo was stabilized. For a while, her fate was uncertain, leaning toward grim. She had lost a lot of blood, and as an extraterrestrial there were only two potentially viable donors on the planet. After some quick laboratory analysis, it was determined that she and Sweetie Belle shared a blood type. The heavy amounts of blood taken from her left Sweetie Belle in much the same condition as Scootaloo, but between the two of them there was thankfully enough for both to survive.

Apple Bloom, meanwhile, had escaped the situation with only minor injuries. Arbeck stuck with her, looking out for her, while she answered questions from every government official, scientist, and reporter permitted to see her. At one point, I got a call from the President, who was speaking to the two of them. I answered the President's questions politely, though I forget what they were specifically. I assume they were diplomatic in nature, not scientific, but this assumption comes purely from context and not memory. I do remember that Apple Bloom was still wearing the armored K-9 vest in the meeting. I don't know if it was because she still feared for her life, or if it had simply seemed wrong to ask her to remove her single article of clothing. I like to think it was the latter.

The CIA called me. I became the first civilian to learn the truth about Roswell, which I was told would become public information very soon. Apparently, they had retrieved an injured and unconscious Grey from a flying saucer crash, only for the creature to go missing the next day with nothing but a few claw marks on the medical bed. At the time, they assumed it had escaped. Now knowing the truth, they admitted feeling a certain shame and responsibility. I asked if the saucer was made of organic material, and they said yes, fitting with my theory of Preponderance's chemical teleportation only affecting living organisms.

The last call I received before writing this was from Scootaloo. Though still drowsy, she had woken up briefly and insisted we speak immediately. I was glad to see she was okay, and she was glad to hear we would soon meet in person. I told her that she was going to go home, at least after she had some time to heal up. She had broken some bones in the car crash, and the doctors feared that screws and metal attachments may be lost in the teleportation. It was likely that she would need a second surgery on her own planet after going back, just to re-add the hardware that would be lost after the jump. If possible, the doctors wanted to talk to a doctor from her world, though they first wanted time to study the Veilspawn and prepare a better defense program. Earth, they insisted, would soon become a safe hub for intergalactic travel. Bold words, I thought, for a species that only learned about intergalactic travel yesterday. But, I admired and shared the intent.

There's an hour remaining in my flight, and I don't know how I'll spend it. After the excitement and constant action of the last day, I am left feeling empty and tired.

The one thing that remains on my mind is what Arbeck told me before the Veilspawn attack: Preponderance wrote me a message. We've spoken since the crash, and I know I could've asked her for it, but some sentimental part of me wants to hold the book in my hands and see it in person. This, I feel, will be the closure I need for the story of Preponderance.

Comments

[PresentPerfect]

When I first looked at this story, my reaction was oh god 20k.

Now I feel it's not long enough. D: Or maybe I just want more.

[AppleTank]

5773026
agree. This is a beautiful world.