Chapter Three: 'John Smith', of Croupwich...
Suddenly, the blue doors popped open, and a chestnut-colored pony tumbled out.
There were several remarkable things about this. The first was; this individual bore a striking resemblance to one that at this very moment was trying desperately to deal with a woman in a wedding dress inside his own blue box. Similar dark spiky hair, a similar long brown coat, and a similar confused situation. Another was, unlike the individual with the same blue box and the woman in the wedding dress, he wasn’t wearing a brown pinstripe suit; just a white dress shirt collar and a green tie. And, of course, that one of them was a humanoid, the other, a pony, or ponioid, or some sort of thing like that.
The pony had a good-sized knot on the side of his head. He shook his head to clear it, then stood up…
Or tried to. The novelty of being a creature with four legs now instead of two wasn’t lost on gravity. He stumbled, and fell right back on his face. He sat up once again, rubbing the swollen side of his head with a hoof.
“Oi!” He stopped rubbing, looked around a bit. The architecture was a charming reflection of some early English…wait a tick, that didn’t feel like his hand rubbing his head.
He stopped suddenly, looked at his hands…or attempted to.
“OI!” he exclaimed loudly. “NO!” “Nonononono!” he continued, as he half trotted, half pushed himself backwards into the box through the open door. Once through, he gave the door a rather uncoordinated pull with a foreleg as he crawled back toward the center console.
Oddly, the controls had changed a bit, to take into account his new anatomy; everything was where it should be, more or less, just made easier for a creature with hooves. With some difficulty, he pulled a screen into position with a hoof. He grabbed a lever, flicked it over.
“This working? Right. Now…” he said as the characters crawled across the screen.
“What? Chameleon Arch? I thought I shut that off years ago…” He moved to a new section, fiddled a few more things.
“What? Equestria? Where the hay is Equestria? And what do I mean by ‘hay’? It’s not ‘hey’; that would make sense. Or it would, if ‘hey’ were a noun. Did I make an exclamation? The other thing was a noun, so it makes sense there…I think.”
He continued to read. “Multiparallel interdimensional temporal rupture? No! More like a puncture…it had a slow leak…and I leaked through. And once through, the safety systems of the old girl sealed it back up.” He fiddled some more.
He sounded uncomfortable. “It sealed…but it had to be sealed up from both sides. My old me over there in his…and this new me over here in mine, as I went through. Humanoid forms don’t exist here…”
He pushed the screen away, exasperated. “Rubbish. I don’t know the first thing about being a pony. Humanoid forms, yea, I can do those. Not equine. How do you do equine without a frame of reference? Experience? Riding lessons? Action figures? Fan art?”
He stared morosely at the console. “I can’t go back, can I…?”
Derpy beamed as Dinky ran up, gushing like a broken water main. “MOM!” she shouted.
“There’s my sweetest muffin!” There was another one of those crushing hugs between both of them. Derpy closed her eyes in bliss at the feel of her little filly trying to squeeze the stuffing out of her.
“Mom, look! I got TWO gold stars on my career day report!” Dinky said proudly, the construction paper poster flapping slightly in the gentle breeze.
“Two, you say? How did you manage that?” Derpy asked happily.
“I showed everypony how you take their mail and stack it just right inside your bag so you don’t have to hunt around for them, then bring them their letters and put them in the mailboxes as you pick up the ones they want you to take, and how sometimes you fly, and sometimes you walk, and then take them to Mister On Time and how he puts them in the trays…”
Derpy just beamed. Amazing how just the right touch of eight year old made a routine thing into The Grand Galloping Gala.
“And oh! You brought a letter to school from Canterlot! Princess Luny will come by our houses tomorrow around eight with her coach to pick us up! Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were SO mad they could have died!” Dinky went on excitedly.
Derpy’s smile lost a tiny bit of wattage behind it, but kept it together. Nervous mother, just being a nervous mother…
She tuned her attention back into the conversation just in time to hear, “…they still kept pretending that they didn’t care, but Twist heard them during afternoon recess that Tiara was gonna make her Daddy tell Princess Celestia that she had to come to her birthday!”
Derpy chuckled as they walked toward home. “I don’t think Filthy Rich can tell the Princesses to do anything, Dinky; I think it’s the other way round.”
“I know! Princess Luny will be SO MAD…!” Dinky said excitedly.
Derpy’s heart fluttered for a second or two as imagined retributions flashed through her mind. Foremost was a midnight black mare in ancient barding, laughing sinisterly…
Serves him right for spoiling Diamond Tiara…
“Mommy, I have a surprise for you!”
“There’s even more, dearheart?” Derpy asked warmly.
“Yeah! Bonny gave me candy again today, and I shared it at school liked we talked about, but I saved the best and most for you…because you were sad this morning, and I want you to be happy!”
She smiled as her eyes teared up a bit. “Why, that’s wonderful, my dear! My special muffin is always thinking of making others happy. You are so sweet, you probably taste better than the candy!” she said as she kissed the little filly, then smacked her lips. “Mmm…I was right.”
“Mom…you have to taste the candy too, you know,” Dinky said, a note of exasperation in her voice.
“You’re absolutely right, Dinky…let’s get home and we’ll test it,” she chuckled apologetically.
The creature was becoming upset.
Somehow, it had managed to arrive in a rural environment. Such places limited its options. Starships and crews were scarce, unless it had crashed. Sapient forms were frequently unavailable to feed on. And the wildlife was disruptive.
Take the bear, for instance. It had already moved on, away from the tree where it had been seeking honey, and managed to eat its fill. It would be back off and on over the next few days. That was unimportant.
However, the bear had made a significant intrusion into the life of the bees, which swarmed around as they contemplated what to do. The bear had ruined their old home, so they sent scouts to find a suitable replacement. In the meantime, many had filled their crops to almost bursting with the remaining honey, and waited on various surfaces while the scouts found a proper place. Some had alighted on the creature, and forced it into camouflage. They wouldn’t move until they had a place, or it became dark and they huddled together on a tree limb somewhere to pass the night. That meant it would have to wait for the night, too.
To pass the time constructively, it had been studying the smell of the energy around it. None was useable as food, which was disappointing, and some had even proven to be a hindrance, interfering with its ability to hunt. It would have to get much closer to prey to sense it, before any feeding could happen.
But there had been a tradeoff…it felt entities manipulating the energy. Entities that manipulated energy usually were intelligent. And intelligence usually meant civilization, and very good hunting. One well of insanely vast power was both intimidating and beckoning, as well as two other vastly large sources, one greater than the other, and a similar, even smaller third one. Another, not as powerful as the third one, tantalized the creature, but it was a great distance further away to the north. It was planning to taste each one for suitability. The extremely powerful one alone could sustain life beyond understanding.
Soon enough…
The Doctor walked around a bit more, getting used to the feel of four legs. He was picking it up rather quickly, though he still stumbled a bit on occasion.
“Not bad, not bad…I suppose it helps that most ponies figure this out minutes after birth, though.” He pulled down another one of his screens, looked into its darkly reflective surface.
“Now see, that’s quite interesting…I’ve changed, but yet I haven’t changed. I look exactly, yet nothing like I did...”
He shrugged off the coat. “Still a bit thin…hullo, what’s that?”
On both sides of his backside were markings; an hourglass with the sand running down.
He scratched the back of his head with a hoof, still a little unnerved by the feel of it. “Hourglass; glass, sand, hours?” Time?” He danced a bit while looking from one flank to the other. “Time Lord?”
I have who I am written right on my rear? He considered it thoughtfully. Convenient, that. He turned again, sat down so he could turn and see one of them up close.
“It’s not some nonsense tattoo or brand, either. The colors…” he said as he reached, bit, and pulled some hairs out. “Ouch! The colors are in the hair…” He looked closer at the tiny bald spot. “No, the colors go straight down to my skin! How do they do that? Nevermind, not important now.” He stood up. “Hungry.”
He walked slowly to the ‘kitchen’ of his vast machine, the clip-clop of his hooves echoing…and stared glumly at the smooth rounded knobs on the dispenser. “Well, that does it for that, for now.” He sighed.
“I don’t suppose there’s a restaurant nearby, with my luck today. Still, nothing for it but to go look.” He went back over to where he dropped his coat, and with a bit of struggling, teeth, and wiggling round the floor on his back, put it back on.
“There! Now…” he reached into a pocket, managed to pull a key on a chain out. A small key. He sighed despondently. But as he watched, the key became more substantial, larger, with a head he could turn with his teeth, or a hoof edge.
“Better!” He spoke to the empty room. “Now, be a dear, and while I’m out and about; would you mind terribly if you could do something about the pantry, and also the winder for the tins? I’m quite literally all hooves with them. Thanks ever so much.”
He went to the doors and pushed them open. “Allons-y,” he said quietly, and stepped through.
The sun was fairly high in the sky, but he felt it was obviously later in the day. He decided to look around a bit.
“Hmmmm.” He had come down inside someone’s garden. He put the key in his mouth, then into the newer, more substantial lock on the door. It was a bit clumsy, but it worked, as the key turned and the door lock clicked. He managed to drop the key into a pocket.
“Now then.” He walked up to the door in the back of the house, boldly knocked. No answer. He fished around in another pocket, came up with a charmingly anachronistic pair of what used to be called 3-D glasses in the other universe, with odd colored cellophane lenses. He had them nicely balanced on his hoof…and no fingers to put them on with.
“One, two, three.” He quickly brought the hoof up as he brought his face down. He smacked himself a fair piece by doing it, but the glasses were in the proper place on his face.
“Must find a better way,” he said, as he shook his head to clear the self-generated stars out. He looked around. There wasn’t anyone home. But that wasn’t the fascinating part…his vision was alive with energy bands; flowing, eddying, rapid current there, slow lake here, a riot of power cascading everywhere. Incredible.
“What? What’s all this?” He was tempted to take them off and look, then put them on again, but he wasn’t sure he could manage it. He concentrated, picked out a specific spectrum…
It was a vortex of incredible power, dark, a bit foreboding…and concentrated into a spot up the road. He moved onto a different one…
And noticed it floated in the very air, everywhere…it appeared almost tangible, though to his face and body, it felt no different than any atmosphere anyplace else. Another one…
Webs everywhere, touching everything. He looked at his body, found the webbing even touched him, though the flexible threads were ethereal. Amazing.
He decided to chance it. He reached up…and fumbled the glasses right off and onto the ground.
“Drat!” he said, as he delicately picked them up with his teeth. Taking a half-second to look, he noticed the energy showed no evidence of its existence in unfiltered reality. He re-balanced them on a hoof, reached for his face…and dropped them again.
He sighed, reached once more with his teeth…as two sets of legs appeared in his vision. He picked the glasses up gently.
“Hewo. I’m Teh Doctor,” he said, slightly mumbled by the glasses. He managed to spit them back out onto his hoof.
“I’m Derpy, and this is my daughter, Dinky. Are you here for the box?” she asked quizzically. He appeared nice enough, but Dinky being around, she was a bit cautious.
“Well, no. Yes. No. I’m the owner, in a way. We come as a set, the old girl and I. I’m sort of here because of the box. Which means I’m here for the box, I suppose,” he said in a rapid fire voice. The reply hinted at a mind trying to do everything at once, and getting answers out in a bit of a hit and miss way while stumbling into itself.
“Oh. Would you like help with that?” she asked gently as she took the glasses from his hoof with hers…and held them steady, though the flat of the hoof was more perpendicular to him. Gravity should be playing its little game with the things, but it looked like it decided to pick up its ball and go home, instead. Aquainted as he was with Van der Waals forces, this seemed to be something quite new, and a great deal more determinant by the pony manipulating...
Drat. Focus, Doctor...
“How...how do you do that?” he asked, perplexed.
“Hmm, what?”
“That! The glasses! Hold the glasses. Hang on, could you put those on me, please? I seem to be all hooves today.”
She shrugged. “Sure. “ She planted them expertly on his face, intrigued by the paper frames and the odd single lenses, red on his left, blue on his right. “And you might want to consider some ice for that bruise on your face.”
“Right. Now, could you pick something else up for me?”
“Are you making fun of me?” she said querulously.
“Well…no, I’m making fun of me. I can’t seem to hold on to things today, and I’d like to see how you do it,” he said matter-of-factly.
She stared at the odd stallion for a moment, then took Dinky’s two-star report in hoof…
“Aw, that’s BRILLIANT!” he crowed. He had watched, fascinated, as the ethereal webbing between the mare’s hoof and the paper shrank and thickened, until it held the paper firmly against the flat of her hoof.
She handed it back to Dinky, with an odd look between pained and giggly.
He raised his hoof, touched the frame of the glasses, as he watched from the corner of his eye. As he concentrated, the tiny little thread between them started to thicken and pull into a mass that bound itself between the frame and his hoof. He lifted them clear of his face with a flourish of triumph and a toothy smile, and then re-deposited them in his pocket.
“Absolutely brilliant! I never thought exchange force could be manipulated like that, just by thinking about it!” He put a kindly hoof on her shoulder. “I think you’ve saved me from an existence of unbelievable clumsiness. Rather chuffed about that.”
She stared at the colt like he’d lost his mind. “Hey, listen, not that I’m suspicious, but do you have any identification that you own this thing? I’d hate to have you take it without checking, you understand.”
“Oh, certainly.” He fished around in another pocket, pulled out a wallet with a small sheaf of index paper inside it. He held it up near his face, as he concentrated. “There you are.”
“There I’m what? It’s blank,” she said, perplexed.
“Oh. Well there’s…this,” he said, holding up a new page, near his face as before.
“Look mister, that’s not that funny. Just tell me who you are.”
“‘John Smith’,” he blurted out, looking at the little book as he tried to find another page. Why wasn’t it working?
“OH, the ‘St. John’ on the door guy? Why not just say so?” she said, slightly annoyed.
He looked at her askance from under his brows, the latest page just under his hoof. “Yes. Yes, that’s me. Doctor St. John Smith, though I don’t use the St. (he pronounced it ‘Sin’) anymore.”
She smiled calmly. “Hey, don’t be too hard on those guys moving it where you were gonna put it…I made a mistake once while flying a complete household to their new place here from Fillydelphia. Dropped the whole thing, almost, right on top of Twilight Sparkle.”
She chuckled happily. “I got canned from that job, of course, but my Civil Service application was already filled out and on the way. After the Weather Team thing happened, the approval for my entry into the Mail Service was already in my mailbox, so it really didn’t matter. I’ve been flying the Ponyville Mail ever since; though,” the voice quieted to a conspiratorially proper stage whisper, “…I still don’t know what went wrong that day.”
“Excuse me, you said, ‘flying’?” he gaped.
She unfolded her wings. “Sure enough.” He stopped dead, awestruck, at the sight. She folded them back, giggling.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. They’re quite gorgeous, really,” he apologized lamely.
“Hey, it’s nothing; not like everypony in the world sees Pegasi right up close. Were you gonna get your company to move it? You didn’t bring any help with you,” she pointed out, looking around while unlocking the back door for a patiently waiting Dinky, who walked in while still staring at the unusual pony.
“Actually, I was looking for someplace to eat first. I’m starving,” he said, his mania returning a bit.
“Well, come on in, I’ll throw a late lunch together for you. What would you like, unless you’re one of those organic ponies that stick to natural browse? Unfortunately, that’s under your blue box right now,” she laughed.
“Oh, I’ll just have whatever you got…though I don’t care for pears,” he said with a scowl.
“You sound just like Vinyl. How about apple salad?” she asked with a smile.
“That’ll be perfect,” he said, dragging off his coat and taking a seat.
Derpy made conversation along with the salad. “Where are you from, ‘John’?” she asked, curious.
“Umm…” He started, as his mind went to top gear. It latched onto a name, came back, and dropped it in front of him. He resented it the moment he said it.
“Croupwich. Lovely place, you should see it sometime,” he spluttered out, wincing as he did so. Croupwich? Bloody hell, like anyone would believe that…just give the game away, Doctor…
“Oh…I’ve never met anyone from there before,” Derpy replied, as she tried to remember where Croupwich even was, drawing a complete blank.
‘John Smith’s’ mind almost let out a palpable wheww as he ducked that particular query. Somehow, it had seized on a very interesting idea. Though most ponies used “flank” in polite conversation for the backside, especially the left and right sides where Cutie Marks appeared, “croup” was much more anatomically correct.
He had declared, in a moment of close panic; that he literally lived at the rear end of nowhere…and compounded that deception by exclaiming how wonderful the view was back there…
And shortly after that exact moment, he also discovered why the term, ‘facepalm’, does not apply to a pony…although he managed not to hit himself as hard as he could have. He shook his head gingerly, trying to clear the stars out. Derpy stared in fascination at the red mark growing alongside the other, previous one.
Just then, Dinky decided to switch on her aura to unload her school saddlebag…
‘John’ watched in rapt fascination as the items she wanted floated out of the bag while her horn glowed and invoked an aura around the objects she was moving; some minor schoolwork, a partially eaten apple that Dinky immediately grabbed with her teeth, and several bags of what smelled like candies…smell? From all the way across the table? In a bag? Astounding…
She floated the apple back away from her mouth for a moment. “I’m sorry sir…please, you can have these…” one bag in particular floated right to ‘John’, who snagged it with his hoof on the first try.
He opened the bag, and his nose twitched. These smelled like…
“Jelly Foals. My Mom and I don’t eat those too much, they’re kinda sticky for my teeth. But Aunt Bonny made them in her candy shop, and they’re the best.”
He lifted one out, put it in his mouth…and she was absolutely right. Memories flooded his mind, mostly good, a few very bad, places, some reminiscent of endless corridors and empty gravel lots…and the faces of friends, comrades, a silly, wonderful tin dog, and Companions…followed by a ridiculously long scarf.
A few tears welled up in his eyes. Dinky looked confused.
He smiled that toothy smile of his, ruffled her mane playfully. “Yes you little dear, they are the best. The best I’ve ever had. Thank you both, or better, all three. You, your Mum, and your Auntie Bonny.”
Dinky and ‘John’s’ smiles was joined by a third. “You’ll want to finish this first, before that candy ruins your appetite. Bonny does something marvelous with candy; it’s hard to stop at just one.” Derpy, placed a salad bowl and fork in front of him, and then sat down. “Dinky, would you please?”
“Sure, Mom.” The little horn glowed brighter, and a large glass of apple juice fled the counter and joined the salad on the table.
Derpy smiled proudly. “She likes to do the drinks. Once Vinyl taught her how to levitate, she was off and running, practicing constantly. Hardly drops anything at all anymore, and multiples are getting easier. She’s a bit precocious for a magic user; usually they’re older than she is now. She wants to grow up and be just like Twilight Sparkle.”
“Yeah! I want to get wings like Mommy and her have! That would be fun, flying with them!” Dinky said enthusiastically.
“Now, Dinky…” Derpy said.
“Aw, Mom…Princess Celestia helped her become an Alicorn; she could help me, too! I’ll work real hard and learn everything and then I’ll learn to fly with my new wings!” She started right in on her homework, using her hoof to write instead of her magic, while the enchantment hovered the apple just out of the way until the next bite.
The Doctor ate quietly as his mind raced. He was going to need to get more information on this culture. The conversation he just witnessed may be confusing now, but once he understood the references, he’d get a grasp in no time.
He already had a good idea of how their physical laws applied. This world of theirs was awash in energy of all different types. The ‘holding’ thing was just an example. They could shape exchange bonding with mental discipline, just thinking about it. If he any chance at all, he was going to take a peek at their ‘magic’, which was more than likely some odd spacial warp influence, and that flying stuff, manipulating gravity and air resistance factors. Pony science.
“So, whose box is it?” Derpy asked, curious. “I know you own it, but where were you going to deliver it?”
“Waalll,” he said, drawling the word out, “…I’m trying to reach Princess Celestia myself,” he said, dropping the name the little Unicorn used earlier. “Developing a better way to communicate always helps everyone in the long run.” There, nice and noncommittal.
Derpy chuckled ruefully. Everyone? That was a strange way to put it. She decided to drop it for now, went on. “They said that when the telephones were being installed. You know, I was worried that my job would be threatened by them. I assumed ponies would stop writing letters and just use those. I was so wrong.” She put the cup of coffee down she was drinking, stared at the stranger, the ghost of a smile playing about her eyes.
“I would think it would be a bit of a guarantee, having to deliver the bills for the telephone service,” he said factually, as he drank some apple juice.
Derpy goggled, her eyes snapping on him as she stared at the chestnut colored stallion. It was a little disconcerting, having somepony get to the punch line of her little joke ahead of her. Somepony was bound to do it, sooner or later, but she got close to three years out of it without anypony making the leap ahead of her. Until now, that is.
“Well, yes,” she said, recovering. “And now, with bulk mail rates, mass mailings for ads make up a lot of my Tuesday delivery. I think I’ll be busy for awhile yet.” She nibbled on an apple she brought with her to be polite, but she was considering the quick mind of the pony in front of her.
Dinky had finished her apple in the meantime, and was now driving her pencil with her magic, unconcerned with the dealings of the two adults sharing the table. The Doctor was quite certain the little filly was listening in attentively, though. Curious, he twisted his head to see what she was doing.
“What are you writing, luv?” he asked her.
“The Ponyville Raising of the Sun ceremony is coming up real soon. Miss Cherilee says the best essay she gets will get to be up front in the first row to watch it.”
“The writer of the best essay…” her mother gently corrected her.
“Oh, yeah. The best one gets to watch up front,” she said, carefully avoiding the sentence construction. He didn’t blame her, it was a difficult one.
“Eh?” He read the canted, almost upside-down paper without difficulty.
Were they serious? He thought to himself. What sort of superstitious claptrap was this? These ‘Princesses’ raised and lowered the Sun and the Moon? Nonsense! What rubbish.
He did hold his tongue, though. His personal outrage at the usurpation of Newtonian physics aside, he did know better than challenge the beliefs of the local provincials, at least without incontrovertible truth in hand, er, hoof. Ten seconds at the TARDIS console would do it. Or bonking most of the locals in the head with some of these very delicious apples.
“I’d like to see that, myself,” he said noncommittally. Or straighten everyone out, perhaps.
Dinky became animated. “I could ask Princess Luny, I mean Luna tomorrow for you! She’s coming by with her coach tomorrow to take some of us kids to Canterlot. You can even ask her yourself, if you want; I’ll introduce you!” Dinky was becoming even more excited: she was going to be able to do that grown-up manners thing Mom and Miss Cherilee talked about, introducing ponies, adult ponies, to each other! That would get her a star; everypony knew everypony in Ponyville; it kinda made it hard to introduce ponies that already knew each other. It really never happened hardly at all, and she would be right in front with a little luck. Take that, Diamond Tiara!
Derpy grinned. Dinky’s enthusiasm was always infectious. ”Do you have a place to stay overnight, ‘John’?”
‘John Smith’ almost missed that she was talking to him. He caught up with a start.
“Oh. Sorry…was someplace else. No, no I don’t, but I wouldn’t wish to impose…” he managed to blurt out. His room in the TARDIS was always there, but it would be very hard to explain to the two ponies that he was planning to sleep inside the call box.
“Not an imposition if I ask. I do have a spare room, if you think your crew won’t be able to move your box today. Princess Luna will be coming by fairly early after her overwatch of the night; she and the coach will be here in Ponyville to pick them all up sometime shortly after sunup. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Princess Twilight Sparkle accompanied her for a bit, or all the Equestrian Heroines. Canterlot Royalty doesn’t get out here too often.”
“Except for Princess Twilight Sparkle, Mister Smith. She lives here, right in the Golden Oak Library,” Dinky said.
The Doctor’s ears twitched up. Library?
Derpy caught it. “You like libraries, ‘John’?” she asked with her adorable smile.
“Oh, yeah. The smell of books. That’s civilization. Seen some big ones, one so big, it’s an entire…” he stopped. He almost said it. Planet. Entire planet.
“…building,” he finished lamely. Derpy took no notice. She’d seen plenty of those at university.
“Twi would like you, then. She adores books. I borrow some from her, not the magic ones except occasional primers for Dinky, but some of the historical stuff, a few of the math and science ones, that sort.” She didn’t mention the romance novellas that she liked. Better to not put those ideas in the guy’s head.
She sat back, stretched, her wings spreading outward. ‘John’ couldn’t help but stare a bit, before looking away…right at the bookcase in the living room. He smiled.
“Where should I place my tableware? Or I can wash it, if you like.” He held back the urge to canter right into the room and start reading.
“Oh, I’ve got that. And if your conscience nags at you, you can help tonight if you stay over.” She picked up the tableware, stacked it and put it in the sink. Dinky bounced up, tugged a stepstool over to the sink, and ran water and detergent. A dishcloth floated into view.
“Dinky has the duty for the most part. We do them together in the evening.”
“Staying then. Don’t think anyone can get out here today.” He smiled even more. “Thanks so much.”
“I’m glad. All the way to Ponyville and back is a decent trip, and you’d have to leave really early in the morning to get back all the way out here before Princess Luna arrived. Well, let me monitor this. You can relax in the living room in the meantime.” She gestured toward it.
“Thanks.” He walked into the room calmly, though his mind was racing. He read the spines of the books in the moderately sized bookcase immediately after he walked in. The collection was diverse and good sized, actually. The interesting part was the science section, which weren't exactly introductory or simplified materials. In fact, some were on the seriously advanced side, according to his impression of this culture.
He found a fairly old one. “History of Equestria”. It wouldn’t be up to date with current events, but it should be fairly unbiased, he felt, and it would be a good start to get a handle on his current situation.
‘John’ actually had a couple of ways to read. He could read like most ponies, though it was a bit on the fast side. He did that when blending in, or for the enjoyment of it. The other was harder…
‘John’ plonked the book down on the convenient nearby table, which was set up near a very nice reading nook, with good lighting and comfortable cushions. He arranged himself on the cushions, picked up the book with his teeth, and settled it in front of him. Time.
He started flipping through the book rapidly, page by page, as he let his mind snatch the information off the pages. It would take time for his brain to assimilate it all and organize it coherently, but he had that.
Three minutes later, he closed it.
“Hmmm.” He picked it back up, put it away, as he took up another, this one electrical engineering. He settled back in as before.
Five minutes later, he rubbed the back of his head with a hoof. He had to slow down at certain points, try to absorb the thaumaturgy at its face value, even when his mind wanted to roll around on the floor and laugh until it ran out of breath. The task had proven to be difficult.
Derpy walked in as he placed the book back on the table. She frowned as she read the cover.
“Not exactly light reading, is it?” She picked it up for a moment, then set it back down. “Did you understand it?”
“Well, no. Yes. No.” She smiled, she couldn’t help it.
“Well, most of. Wires and resistors and fiddly bits, capacitors and such. The maths. Magic inductance and transmission, I’m lost with. Does that even work?” he asked honestly.
She looked at him. Earth ponies generally didn’t put too much stock in magic to begin with, despite their own first-pony experiences to the contrary. He was being just a little bit too obtuse about it, though. Surely his box worked on the principles.
“Yes, yes it does. Twilight is a great wizard, knows the concepts backwards and forwards. She could explain those parts better. I had Lyra in college back then as a roomie to help me through the basics.”
She sighed. “Mind if I put this back, if you’re finished? It’s an old textbook of mine.”
“Certainly…didn’t mean to pry. Just bored.” He was attuned as to how quiet she was. “You like that sort?”
She sighed again as she put it back. She considered for a moment, then gently took out the advanced physics book. “I was chasing a four year degree in experimental physics, actually. Couple minors in electrical and computer stuff. I had a terrific lab partner and great friend named Clockwork, who took up where Lyra had to leave off on engineering magic to get me there. She ended up teaching at the University of Chicacolt, in their Theoretical Phyzzies department.” She brought it to him, laid it gently in front of him. “This is an old and dear friend of mine,” she said, as she sat down next to him.
He looked at the worn spine, aged from countless times of use and reference. The hinging was delicate as he gingerly opened it. The inside cover and formerly blank front pages were covered in mathematics, formulae, and even referent equations copied from other pages so as to be easy to find; all of it was in a delicate, dainty, almost fairielike hoofwriting. Some was diagrammatical, defining devices to probe secrets and unlock them, others whimsical expressions to puzzle out everyday life, like the most optimal time and temperature to bake muffins. He moved on to the back pages, intrigued.
Suddenly, one expression jumped out and grabbed his eyes. It was involved, convoluted, twisted in and out like braided spaghetti. It bespoke of circles, vectors, loops upon loops. And it focused on a particle-wave.
Huons.
It didn’t say that, of course, she wouldn’t have that name for such a thing. But she felt it, somewhere in the expression, inside the cold factors dancing madly upon the head of a pin. She knew in her heart it was inside there, somewhere.
And she had set out to find the bugger. He saw the back pages, as the maths grew more and more intricate and specific, hot on the trail. Along the way, she had notes and theory worthy enough to catch up with Heisenberg’s and Schrödinger's disciples and lecture them about position versus momentum, and argue energy versus time with the best of those. She found Uncertainty, and sunk it into concrete before tossing it into a lake.
She was bloody brilliant.
And she was a mailmare.
And he had to pretend, as well. Managing to keep from staring at her in jaw-dropping admiration, he gestured to the book and its extra pages. “You seemed to be on to something. Mind telling me what it was you found? The engineering bits and bobs, yeah, I get those. This seems a bit beyond me.”
She let out a derisive, sad chuckle, without humor. “Oh, I thought I’d come across a Secret to the Universe. I thought I’d found a new particle in particle physics, something not in the Standard Model, after I collimated tons of junk from all sorts of thaumaturgic atomic smashers. It was lab assistant tedium work, drudgery, something the department at Canterlot University needed done, but definitely below the faculty and postgraduates idea of something they should be doing. I was on scholarship, looking for postgrad ideas, and making work-study earnings on it, which paid for all the noodles I cared to eat, and nothing much else. I called it a chronoton,” she said sadly.
He gestured to her when she paused. “Please, go on. I’m fascinated,” ‘John’ said kindly.
She sighed deeply again. “Not much to tell. I figured out an experiment. A device that could generate and manipulate chronotons, without any huge smasher. Clockwork helped me build it. I’d take some juice to run the gizmo, but the building of the dam and hydroelectric station was underway at the time, and one of the generators was available for load testing before being hooked into the electrical system. The university wanted in on the power, and I wanted to see what it would do. Had the whole phyzzies department in a snit, pulling all that energy to run one pre-baccalaureates non-grad experiment.”
“What happened?” he asked, though he was pretty sure of the conclusion.
“Nothing. Not a mucking thing. It sat there, humming away, dumping all sorts of subs around, including a manure pile’s worth of chronos, clean limited field, no stray stuff to cause any of the observers there that day to have funny-looking foals later after they married, nothing. It ran, reached its appointed shutdown time, and hummed to a stop.”
“Well, I was…mortified, to say the least. My future hummed to a stop along with my machine .The field is already pretty well filled up, and to get into a prestigious position anywhere, you had better be able to produce results. I didn’t. I probably could have picked up a teaching assistant’s job, grade somepony else’s papers for a prof they hardly ever saw, repeating entry level Neightonian work every semester for a woeful of bits and rooming with somepony that threw loud parties and indulged a drinking problem.”
She leaned back, stared into her past. “I once had a slot on the Wonderbolts precision flight team before college then; I could have stayed with just that if my eyes hadn’t worsened. I handed it off to my wing, Spitfire, before I Fox Foured; had a mid-air collision; and so I then went to Canterlot University for a degree on my education benefits, and watched that door slam shut in my face, too. I had the front row all to myself, my life, as it all crashed.”
He reached out a reassuring hoof to her. "I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” he said meaningfully.
“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do? Life, ‘John’. It’s what happens in-between your plans.” She snuffled a bit, went on.
“Did odd-jobs here and there, helped Carrot Top with her greengrocery, the disaster with the moving company, some part-time work on the Weather Team that went terribly wrong. I did catch a break there, having my Civil Service application already approved. Now, I haul mail, make ponies happy, and let my mind wander wherever it wants. And, of course, it usually wanders to my sweet Muffin, Dinky.”
“And Dad?” He regretted saying it the second it was out. She stiffened, her face tightening, as her head dropped.
“Dead,” she said flatly. She also didn’t elaborate, as she pulled herself away slightly. Her head was still down.
“So sorry... I’m densely thick, Derpy. Pay me no mind. I mean that,” he said earnestly. Still shoving a hoof into your mouth, Doctor, he thought. The tragedies this mare endured, still holding on wonderfully, and then you up and throw a camel upon the pony’s back. You should sleep outside for that, his mind told him. You don’t deserve her kindness.
“Listen, I could still trot on into Ponyville as punishment for being an idiot. I’m so sorry to cause your old hurts to come back and visit. I can be so foolish at times, asking silly questions. I’ll just get my coat and…”
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, confused.
“I said no. You didn’t know, and you’re not being cruel. I know cruelty. You may be thick, or an idiot, or foalish. But not cruel. He’s gone. And I’m not him, nor are you. Stay.”
He nodded, too shocked to do or say anything else. Then it came to him, and he had to ask.
“What happened to all the equipment?”
She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath. “Apparently, Princess Celestia had backed the research with a grant from the Treasury’s Science budget. She kinda owned the gear, and I let them take it along with my schematics and research notes. I have some stuff here, but I haven’t looked at any of them hardly at all since that day; just too much disappointment anymore. It should have functioned flawlessly. The math was right, the engineering solid. And all it did was hum.”
“What was it supposed to do?”
She looked at him, a ghost of a smile trying to get back to its accustomed place on her face. “Jump backwards in time thirteen seconds and displace six feet to the left. Time and dimension shift consecutively. I would have stomped to death and left the bodies lying on the floor every preconceived notion everypony including Hoofsingberg and Shöddinger had about Time, Relativity, Dimensions, Quantum Mechanics, and Particle Physics. Everypony would have just freaked.”
“That would have won you an award,” he said frankly.
“Probably both the Stables in physics and engineering. I didn't care about that. But those postgrads, those faces were what I wanted to see. The pre-Batch showing up all those Masters and Doctorates. I would’ve felt just like Dinky every time she beats out Diamond Tiara at school.”
“Speaking of,” she said quietly, picking up the book lovingly, and putting it into its rightful place in the bookcase, “…time to see if my daughter is up to something; she’s been quiet a bit too long.”
“Derpy…thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ‘John’,” she laughed softly, as she left to find a purple Unicorn.
Once she was out of sight, ‘John’ scrubbed the back of his head with his hoof.
She actually tried it, he thought.
He thought about that book. One of the things he had was the eidetic memory most college ponies would have sacrificed a Sister of the Diarchy to have. Now that his brain had had a few moments to digest the information, he ran the pictures back in his mind, looking for flaws or errors in her concepts.
A bit of narrower spacing on the original standard deviations…the drift in the calculations probably was what drove her to start thinking about eliminating the errors…
“Why, the audacious, cheating little thing! Using magic to determine particles without disturbing them! Hoofsingsberg would have pulled all his teeth out to have known that! Aw, that’s just BRILLIANT!!”
Another chuckle. “And she designed the device to do it…WITHOUT her being a Unicorn! Theory alone!” He was awestruck inside. Derpy might have put every Unicorn on the planet using magic for very important things out of a job. Including those two Princesses.
He laughed like a lunatic. “And no pony else had either thought of Derpy’s little trick, or figured out how to make it work, I’ll bet my TARDIS! That toy of hers would have functioned, too, if she knew about the Rassilon Imprimateur and the briode nebulizer. Well, maybe; trachoid time crystals and Zeiton 7 aren’t just lying around, either. Wonder if she found ways round all that? I bet she did. I bet she found ways ‘round everything, the clever girl!”
“I’d give my Screwdriver to get a look at that thing of hers! Wonder if they have tours of Canterlot? Have to ask Luna, I suppose. If I get there, I’ll poke around a bit.”
“Poke around where?” Derpy asked as she walked back in.
“You are a very clever mare, you know that?” he said cheerfully, pointing a hoof at her.
She glanced behind her a beat, before looking back at him, a bit of trepidation on her face.
“Been thinking a bit on your ideas, luv. Your research and such? Brilliant. Simply brilliant. Your machine should have worked. Probably did work, actually. Maybe you missed a bit here or there, doubt it, by the way, but you could have fixed that. You can probably fix anything. Must be a Scot,” he raved on.
She stared at him, still hesitant to get any closer. Her nose wrinkled slightly.
“No. Just…no. You solved it, don’t think different. I’ve seen some of the best, and you're loads better, trust me."
She decided to placate him. “Maybe you’re right, ‘John’, but it’s all in the past. I love what I do now, it pays well, I get to see a lot of ponies, lots of friends, and I get the time to think. That’s all I need now, with Dinky here.”
‘John’s’ face fell. “But it’s not right,” he said quietly, as he sat down heavily.
“I know. But like I said, its life,” she said gently, brushing the top of his head and the spiky mane with a hoof. She sat down with a magazine on the other side of the room, smiling kindly.
He stared at her, as she flipped a page, started reading.
How do I help her? He thought to himself. She deserves to know she was right about it all along.
He cleared his throat. Derpy looked up, the adorable small smile still on her face.
“Um, I’m going to check my box out, if you don’t mind. Shan’t be long. I can help with the housework and dinner after, if you like,” he said calmly.
She smiled brighter. “Check your door phone, sweetie. Your circuit is open, but it doesn’t ring through. I tried it right after it dropped in.”
“Yeah. Have to see about that.” He rose up dejectedly, started for the door. He picked up his coat as he went through the kitchen, tossed it up on his back.
When he got to the doors, he fished the key out of his pocket and opened the door. Once inside, he closed it back up, and then decided to engage the deadbolt. He put his coat on the rail around the console and sat down, staring at the console and the time rotor.
“She’s too nice for bad things to happen to her like that...”
He tugged out the Screwdriver from another pocket to do some checks and minor repair. Another object came out, fell, a metallic clink sounding from the deckplate.
It was a key. A TARDIS key on a chain. A TARDIS key a pony could use. He picked it up, then sat down heavily, staring at it on his hoof.
“No. No, I can’t do that. She has a little girl. She’s too much a part of this place and time here. She can’t just drop everything and run off. It’s too much.”
He sat there for a long time, staring at it, his tinkering forgotten.
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I love that. I simply love that quote at the end.
Tap into the internet of this particular universe.
Make sure you have safe-search on.
Problem solved.
Switch those two "Your/You're" around and you'd have the correct uses of them
Every time you use "you're" just say the sentence with "you are" and see if it sounds right
If not, use "your"
Very interesting story, even if I've never seen Doctor Who (Shame he didn't think up "Time Turner" instead of John Smith; oh well...)
5703864
Also, on the second sentence, I forgot to close the quote..
PBBbbbttttttttttttt.....!!!!
I don't think he minded too much...there was a lovely dinner involved...
Crystalheart
That was adorable and hilarious
I thought he was gonna slam his head into it. Remember when he did that with Craig? Prob won't work on inanimate objects but would be funny
10095500
I couldn't quite take him there...he's got too important a part in this story to take him too far into slapstick...
10095494
And, it's her...