Chapter 3: Tipping Point
Chapter 3
Evening Edition boarded the 6:00AM northbound train in Fillydelphia and slept most of the way to the capital, tossing and turning in her seat from cloudy hangover-dreams. Several times she awoke, sure that she'd only imagined being fired from Sun News. But then realization set in once again, and she drifted back into her troubled sleep.
After what could have been any length of time, her cell phone buzzed, indicating that she was entering the range of the Canterlot cell-tower. She had arrived.
"Welcome to Canterlot!" the conductor-pony was saying. "Next stop, Pinkie Pie Avenue!"
Hmm, that's a new change, thought Eve drowsily, as the golden sunlight cut into her eyes. They don't usually name streets after living ponies. Guess the Elements have more than earned it, though.
The conductor stopped when he got to Evening Edition's booth. "Hi there, little missy. Are you all by yourself, or are your parents around? You should go wait at the ticket-office if you're lost--"
"I'm twenty-nine," she said.
"Oho, sorry about that!" laughed the conductor. "You must get that a lot, though."
"I do," she said, bemused. "But thanks for offering help, anyway. I think you still snagged some good karma for yourself."
The conductor kept chuckling as he walked away, and Eve found herself irritated by what really was an all-too-common occurrence. Black sheep of the family, she thought, runt of the litter... There were a number of other things she had left off her resume. She could only hope blabbermouth DJ hadn't told August everything about his little sister.
Evening Edition did a few deep-breathing exercises as the train swayed side to side and click-clacked along the city-tracks. Her jaw hurt, not only from the stress of an impending job interview, but from the unreality of meeting a celebrity-- August was, after all the First Daughter of the USA. There was also the inescapable drama of mixing business with family. Would DJ be mad at August if she didn't hire Eve? This whole thing was a recipe for disaster, but what the hay, she really, really needed the job.
"Rarity Boulevard, comin' up!" said the conductor. This was Eve's stop.
The train squealed and halted. Eve rose and jostled her way through the crowd, stepping out into the city of Canterlot for the first time in many years.
It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the sudden glare, and then she beheld a wide thoroughfare packed with ponies, each one headed somewhere in a hurry. It was easy to recognize the celebrities and politicians by the clusters of reporters huddling around them, shoving every type of recording device ever created right in their faces.
"Newsponies," said Eve, watching the crows feast. "Once my brothers and sisters. My kin. We were going to strike at the black heart of corporate corruption, weren't we? But all we did was snarl and nip at each other's heels. Now I head in to interview to be your enemy: the deceiver, the machine! Nothing to see over here, newspony. Nothing to see." She chuckled at her own melodrama. "Not bad." Eve scribbled it down on one of the many notepads she carried close-at-hoof.
She made her way to the front gates of the UN headquarters. Rather than a single building, this was actually a large, gated complex, containing a number of embassies and admin centers. Aside from a wrought-iron fence, there wasn't a lot of visible security.
Actually, it's kind of nice, she thought. Big green lawns, lots of flowers. There was a fountain out front with a massive bronze globe of Earth in the center. The plaque read:
UNITED NATIONS OF EARTH
Dedicated to promoting, preserving, and defending
the magic of friendship between Earth and all others.
Eve scoffed. "Promoting, preserving, and defending all the fancy new resources you guys stumbled upon. But okay, I'll bite." She headed in.
* * *
It was only once Evening Edition had passed through the first security checkpoint that she started noticing the guards. US Marine and Army MPs, NATO troops, and uniformed Secret Service from every country. They were everywhere. Clearly, the UN compound was under high alert, and with all the fiery news pictures from Manehattan, it was no mystery why.
Lots of guns-- big ones, small ones, black, silver, tan polymer. They made her nervous. When she'd been fresh out of college, Eve had worked the crime beat in Fillydelphia, and had seen more than her fair share of death. Mostly hoof-kills, a few murder-by-magic. None of it had really scared her though. But guns... the fire, the smell, the sound-- a concussion so ferocious that it could tear a pony's eardrums in half. Loud sounds were particularly devastating to her species.
Finding the US Embassy turned out to be as simple as looking for the biggest building with the best real-estate. As Editor in Chief of the Daily Sun, Eve had written a number of articles on the US and its Western allies. She knew that the West had managed to stay ahead of the Eastern powers well into the 21st century, despite damn near falling on its face in the first decade.
Eve encountered another checkpoint just inside the US Embassy. She had her bag searched, x-rayed, and passed in front of a machine that she could only assume was a bomb sniffer. Then a soldier brought out a gigantic green lizard on a leash.
"What the hay is that thing?" Eve exclaimed.
"This is Jerry," said the soldier. "He's a mood-chameleon. He turns pink in the presence of malice and harmful intent."
"You breed these things on Earth?" said Eve, surprised.
"No, no, we, uh, liberated a number of eggs from their nests in the Everfree Forest. These guys are so docile, they could be pressed into service immediately. Just in time I'd say."
"If they're so docile," said Eve, "then how do they defend themselves from predators?"
"Mood-lizards are incredibly poisonous," said the soldier. "But only if you eat them. So don't eat Jerry, okay? Because I'm not kidding. You would die."
Jerry rippled rainbow colors, moving from blue to green to red to purple. He stopped on black.
"Black means ambitious," said the soldier. "Are you feeling ambitious today?"
"Yes," said Eve. "No pink, though?"
"Nope, so I guess you're not an ambitious terrorist." He scratched Jerry under the chin. The lizard made no indication that it noticed or cared.
"Ponies have been afraid to go into the Everfree Forest for as long as I can remember," said Eve. "You humans just walk right in like you own the place."
The soldier laughed. "The Everfree Forest is still pretty dangerous for us, too, but our weapons are a lot more reliable within the forest boundaries than yours are."
"And the science-versus-magic debate rages on," said Eve. "Am I free to go?"
"Sure, stand on the dotted line and I'll buzz you in."
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Evening Edition sat in August Lansing's office, shuffling her hooves nervously as the First Daughter shouted into the phone.
"Tell them that!" said August. "Don't tell me. If this report is for DoD, then why are you even on this line at all? This is the reason they call the game 'telephone,' Chuck. This is where it comes from! Stop bringing me information for other people!"
There was some talking on the other end. August held a finger up to Eve and smiled apologetically. One more minute, she mouthed.
She turned back to the phone. "It's not my concern that you're scared of them, Chuck. I expect you to be able to get things done without my authority all the time. Send the manuscripts to Wesley at DoD and don't call me again for at least 48 hours! Yes, I'm serious. You will? Good. Goodbye."
August set the phone in its cradle. She put both hands flat on her desk and exhaled. "I," she said to Eve, "am so sorry about that." She started going through the papers that Eve had given her upon arriving.
Eve just about had a full-blown coronary.
Then August said: "Alright, you're hired."
"What?" said Eve.
"Blame nepotism and fate," said August. "I actually feel sorry for you. You have no idea the shitstorm you just walked into. But I can tell you this: Canterlot relations are my government's top priority right now. That means the money is good. Very good."
"I..." said Eve. "You..."
"I'm supposed to give you this briefing packet on bathroom break laws, and this tax thing, and make you watch these videos on fire safety and CPR, but can we just not and say we did?"
"I, uh, don't play with matches at work. Unless it's somepony's birthday."
"Fantastic. It says here you've been a journalist your whole life. I don't think you'll find this job much of a stretch from that. You're still writing stories, just for a different type of audience. Tell me about any political experience you have."
"I did the Canterlot beat at the castle for a few years after I got out of crime reporting," said Eve. "Studied under a couple pros who are actually retired now. It was a long time ago, but I'm sure I can adjust."
"Why did you get out?"
"I didn't like being a stenographer."
August laughed. "Well, that's politics. Okay, so you're going to be doing a lot of speech writing for us, event coordination, handling media through the Press Secretary-- that's Paradigm, you'll meet him. He's a pony too, obviously. Now and then you might have to step in for a briefing or a press-gaggle. Know your way around that type of thing?"
"Piece of cake."
"Great, perfect. Add to that the newsroom skills and I think we've got a winner." She slapped the file-folder closed. "Well, Evening Edition, it seems like you'll be a valuable member of the team, and I look forward to a very productive relationship. And now that we've got all that formal crap out of the way..." Her face broke out in a genuine smile and she reached across the desk a bit sheepishly. "Hi, I'm August. DJ has told me so much about you!"
"Nice to meet you!" exclaimed Eve, laughing. She took August's hand in her hoof and the two shook with gusto.
"Sorry for the all-business intro," said August, "but we've got zero room for error right now. I had to make sure you had your shit together before we relaxed, otherwise this might have gotten pretty awkward."
"Don't worry, I understand," said Eve. "It was big risk bringing me on like this anyway, and in the middle of a crisis."
August collapsed back into her chair. "It's definitely been a hell of a day," she said. "And night. And day. Although I heard you've been having a rough time of it, yourself. It's no fun to get laid off from a place you've worked at for so long."
"I wouldn't exactly say I got laid off," said Eve.
"Oh, I would," said August with a wave of her hand. "Readership was up, but revenue was scraping bottom. They blamed you because you swim against the current. But I wouldn't hire you if I thought you were negligent or a yes-mare."
"Thanks," said Eve. "You're right about revenues dropping, though. It's even worse than the newspapers let on. All the bits are going into human media tech, TV and radio. The old media might have to fold up completely if Equestria finally gets the internet."
"So, you're against the Inter-Planetary-Net Project?" said August. "Seeing as you're a newspony, that surprises me."
"No, no," said Eve. "Actually I'm a big supporter of the IPNP. The Terran Internet is the human race's collective memory, just as the Equestrian Internet will be ours. I think allowing our digital consciousnesses to merge would bring our races together in a very powerful way."
"Yes, but maybe not a good powerful," said August. "I'll tell you the real reason humans don't want to share their internet with ponies. It's shame. All of the evil and vitriol humans are capable of is on display there in high resolution."
"But so is the beauty," insisted Eve. "The music, the artwork. Peoples' words, people's lives. The most important documents of your civilizations."
"Oh, yeah," said August. She pantomimed digging. "I just know they're somewhere under all this porn."
"I'll tell you the real reason ponies want access to the Terran Internet," said Eve with a huge wink. They both started laughing.
"You know," said August, "This is a total non-sequitur, but I assumed you would be an earth-pony like DJ. I'm a little surprised to see that you're a unicorn."
"Not as surprised as Daddy was."
They howled with laughter.
"Jesus Christ," said August, wiping her eyes. "I'm delirious from sleep-loss."
"I'm just relieved," said Eve. "I was so scared to come in here today."
"I hate to say it, but your instincts might have been right after all," said August. "This is a scary time for the human embassies, especially if the President has to bring over more soldiers, which is probably going to happen sooner rather than later. You might get some stigma from other ponies if things start going sour between our people. Can you handle that?"
Eve paused for a second, then nodded. "I want to help," she said.
"Why?"
"Because our races will be a hundred times stronger as friends than as enemies."
"Actually," said August, "the correct answer was 'the money,' but I'll take what you said." She checked the clock. "Okay, first thing's first. We've got to swear you in and get the ball rolling on your security clearance. Once the paperwork is done, I'll introduce you to your staff and bring you up to speed on all of the wonderful things you now get to deal with."
"Hey," said Eve, "can I ask who you were yelling at on the phone earlier?"
"Oh, that was Chuck. He's your secretary."
* * *
Eve had always felt a little strange walking around inside a human office-building. Rather than natural products like wood and stone, humans used mostly synthetics for construction. Even the rugs were made of plastic fibers. Eve had to admit, though, that once the humans had their machines in place, their buildings went up with surprising speed.
August guided Eve down a long hall to the Communications Hub-- a busy, bustling media center with TVs along one entire wall. A small army of interns, clerks, and policy-wonks were running around clutching papers and pressing phones to their ears.
Actually, thought Eve, it doesn't look so different from a newsroom.
They found Eve's office tucked away in the southeast corner of the media center.
"This is only temporary," said August, as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The room was empty, except for a desk and a filing cabinet. It smelled like paint. There was a single window.
"Hmm," said August, clicking on the light. "I thought I told Requisitions to get you some furniture."
A ridiculously handsome black unicorn with a cream-colored mane suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Ambassador Lansing," he said, in a light tone. "I thought I heard your voice in here." With his aquamarine eyes and ivory horn, Paradigm was even more a sight in the flesh than he was on TV. His cutie-mark was a silver flag whipping in an imaginary wind.
"Paradigm, come in here," said August. "I want you to meet Evening Edition, the new Comms Director. She goes by 'Eve.'"
"Charmed!" he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
"The famous Paradigm the Unicorn," said Eve, returning the smile. "You're a talented pony. Handled the magic-radiation scandal for the Hi-Tech Corporation, what, six years ago? Amazing work. Hi-Tech Corp came through smelling like a rose, as I recall. The victims, not so much."
Paradigm looked over at August. August just shrugged and raised her eyebrows, as if to say, This is all you, buddy.
"Miss Edition," said Paradigm, turning back to Eve, "there was a time in my life when the thrill of the job was all I cared about. Hi-Tech came to me with an impossible task, and I took it because I wanted to see if I could do it. As it turned out, I could. Eventually, I did come to regret the harm that my work did, which is one reason I'm here now, doing this."
"Working for the humans?" asked Eve. "I thought you wanted to decrease your level of infamy."
"The humans are coming through the portal one way or another," said Paradigm. "This way, I can make sure they do as little harm as possible. No offense, Ambassador."
"Heck," said August, "that's sounds just about like our mission statement to me."
"Don't worry Paradigm," said Eve, "I just wanted to get your side of it. I am the last pony here who should be judging others for their past employers. I was with the Daily Sun, remember? If it was up to their sponsors, the portal would have a great big magic cork in it."
"Well, you still had the courage to speak out against your benefactors," said Paradigm. "That, to me, is bravery."
"Thanks," said Eve. "I might actually call it self-destructive behavior, but okay. At least I seem to have landed on my hooves."
"You mean right in the middle of the frying pan?" said Paradigm. "On a completely different note, is anypony else getting a little high off these paint fumes in here?"
"Ugh, yes," said August, going over to fan the door in the hall, while Paradigm wrestled the window open with his magic. The fresh smell of rain swept past the blinds. A lightning storm had rolled in from the coast, just as the Cloudsdale forecast had predicted.
"I'm really sorry about this crappy office," said August. "It's kind of been a spare since Tracy went back to Earth last week and took her assistant with her. Trust me, once things have settled down a little, we'll find you some place with a real wood desk, not these metal monstrosities that will cut your damn leg off if you're not careful."
"Ahem," said Paradigm. "Right next door?"
"I've been in your office, Paradigm," said August. "All your furniture is teak."
The black unicorn placed a hoof to his chest. "I choose to remain offended."
Just then, a young man poked his head into the room. He had short, brown hair, and his face was a galaxy of freckles.
"Oh good, Chuck," said August. "I was just about to page you."
"August!" stammered Chuck, almost dropping his papers. "Unless I'm mistaken, you told me on the phone that I wasn't to speak to you for forty-eight hours--"
"You're pardoned," said August. "Just please, please, Chuck. Please."
"Yes, ma'am," said Chuck.
"Evening Edition," said August, glancing over at her, "this is Chuck Pomeranz, your executive assistant. Chuck, this is Evening Edition, your new lord and master."
"May I call you Eve?" asked Chuck, bending down to shake her hoof.
"I prefer it," said Eve with a laugh. "Too many syllables otherwise."
"Oh, it's not personal," said Chuck. "It's our brains. The chemical matrices therein obviously contain a finite amount of storage, and yet most people go around carelessly filling up that space with nonsense. I think that's a shame."
"I couldn't agree more," said Eve.
Chuck glanced around the room. "Requisitions messed up again?" he said. "Those forms are seven-and-a-half pages long! Seven-and-a-half pages! What am I filling them out for?"
"Is Requisitions a pony or a department?" asked Eve.
"A department," said August. She put one hand on her hip and swept her red-blonde hair back with the other. "Well, no matter. Eve, I imagine you brought a laptop and smartphone with you?"
"Yeah," said Eve, "actually, if I just had a chair, I could plug in and get to work."
There was a moment of silence. A glance went around the circle.
Then Chuck said: "Oh! Hint-hint, right?" He ran out the door and returned a moment later with a straight-backed chair.
"Eve's a pony," said August. "She needs a pony chair."
"Of course she does, my mistake!" said Chuck, striking his forehead with his palm. He turned and ran back out.
"He's actually a genius," August told Eve.
"He hides it well," said Eve with a grin.
"Two-hundred-plus IQ, last time they checked," said August. "Eighteen years, three months old, with a Master's Degree in political science and another in mechanical engineering. This job is his way of researching for a PhD project, I think. He's a high-risk, high-reward employee, do you understand? Utilize him correctly and he'll be invaluable to you. Tracy did. But she had to stay on him like glue."
"Understood," said Eve. "He seems nice."
"Yes," said August. "He is definitely nice."
"Cue the organ music," said Paradigm.
Chuck returned with one of the ottoman-style padded-benches that the ponies used as chairs, since their legs didn't easily bend to fit human chairs. He set it behind the desk.
"Anyway," panted Chuck, "it's nice to meet you, Eve."
"It's nice to meet you too, Chuck," said Eve. "Paradigm, August. Well, as hard as you've all tried to discourage me at every turn, I'm getting the weirdest feeling that things are going to work out after all."
Just then, a pretty, young mare appeared in the doorway. She was stop-sign red with a blonde mane held in a pink headband.
"Sweet Talk!" said Paradigm. "Come join the party in the empty office!"
But Sweet Talk had a grave expression on her face. "Something is happening, guys," she said. "You'd better come take a look at this."
* * *
11:59 AM
They filed out into the Communications Hub. Sweet Talk shouted, "Monitors to four!" at a volume belied by her soft exterior. All the TVs on the opposite wall started switching to the same channel, as the media handlers queued them up on their own screens. The audio feed began to come through the overhead speakers.
"--delivered only minutes ago to this station. Once again, here is the video in its entirety. Although censored by our studio, the footage is still quite graphic. Those with small foals may wish to leave the room."
The video opened with brown skies and brown water. First Los Angeles, then Mexico City, then New Delhi, then Pittsburgh, then Beijing. Images of dead fish, strip-mined mountains, burning oil wells, poisoned wetlands. Typical environmentalist propaganda, but ponies were not inured to it-- had not experienced a lifetime of learning to conveniently forget.
"This is humanity," said a voice.
Then the screen lit up with images of war. Hiroshima. Auschwitz. Dresdin. Cities on fire. People on fire. Bodies floating in a river. Bodies baking in the desert. Serbia. Rwanda. Syria. El Salvador. Iraq.
"This," said a voice on the tape, "is humanity."
Eve had secretly wondered for months if something like this was going to happen. Clearly, the UN had been trying to spin and play down a great deal of the information trickling past the portal from the human side. The dirty little secrets. And the pony media had cooperated, because they wanted the human tech. No denying it now, though. This vid-reel was going to be the talk of the kingdom.
The screen changed again. Despite the war imagery preceding it, this was somehow the most horrific of all. It was PETA-type footage from a slaughterhouse. Chickens, sheep, pigs in the final seconds of their lives. The screen was blurred in places, but the audio was crystal clear.
"This is humanity," said the voice.
"Shit," Eve heard August mutter. Even the humans in the room were turning away, disgusted, from the images on the screen.
The video resolved on a purple pegasus against a dark background. He had one blue eye and one red eye. "Humanity is a race of slavers," he said. "Destroyers. Consumers. Mass-murderers. Some ponies in our society think we can help the humans, treat them as equals. Some think that the humans can learn to be like us. But the humans are not our equals. They are not like us. And the more we try to help them, the more we become like them. I barely recognize my own homeland anymore. Do you? And it continues to worsen. Even now, the humans search for oil in the gemfields, pillage the Everfree whenever they like, and transport our magical artifacts to their home planet for who-knows-what-purpose. Ponies everywhere turn a blind eye because they want dishwashers and microwave-ovens and Pizza Hut.
"But not us. We are the New Dawn, and our time is now. We destroyed the humans' temple of extortion in Manehattan; we attacked their puppet mouthpiece Kobayashi. Each time our message was this: Resistance is possible. But not for long. Soon, the humans will be everywhere, and we will be just another indigenous inconvenience to them. Our land will become their latest disposable resource. Make no mistake: It has happened to every species that man has ever encountered, including its own. It doesn't have to be that way here. Resistance is possible, everypony. But not for long. This is the New Dawn." The tape ended.
The anchor ponies came back on, reporting that the tape had been delivered via Pony Express with a fake return address. Beyond that, they had nothing but the usual vapid, useless commentary.
Eve turned back to regard the media center, where the humans and ponies in attendance were beginning to eye each other nervously. No creature knew quite what to do.
August broke the awkward silence. "Paradigm," she said. "Get in the briefing room and clean this up."
"With pleasure," said Paradigm. He picked his folder of papers up and leafed through it for a moment, then set it down. "I think I'll just ad-lib this one," he said. Then he straightened his tie and marched through the swinging door into the blinding flashes of a hundred cameras.
* * *
"Paradigm! What is the embassy's comment on the New Dawn video?"
"How will the video's release effect the Tech-For-Magic Trade Summit?"
"To your knowledge, is the material on the New Dawn video authentic?"
"Paradigm, will you be resigning your post with the US in light of the New Dawn video?"
Paradigm held his hooves up until the press room reluctantly got a hold of itself. He took a moment to look out at the familiar faces of the newsponies: two-dozen of them from every sector of the media.
This is it, thought Paradigm. The impossible task, yet again. They're going to call me the bad guy. Maybe that's just who I was born to play: the pony that pissed off the world. The pony who defended the indefensible. The pony on the wrong side.
But the thought just made him smile. The truth was that he loved the crisis, he lived for the crisis. Paradigm was on his best game when everything was falling apart. The humans were kind of like that, too. Maybe that was why he felt a kinship with them, despite their dark side. Sympathy for the devil, he thought, and chuckled at the human idiom. Ponyfeathers. Let's do this.
"Good morning," he said. "I'll start with the release. This embassy, and in turn, the US government, condemns the violence and threats carried out by the organization calling itself the New Dawn. Human authorities are working closely with the Equestrian government to bring these criminals to justice. There's a handout going around the room right now with the released names of the Manehattan bombing victims, and let me add that the third entry from the top, Thomas Howitz, father of three, died this morning of the wounds he sustained in the blast. Howitz was an American contractor who came over in the first civilian wave. He dedicated the last year-and-a-half of his life to building hydro-electric infrastructure for the Princesses, and if any of you are enjoying the electricity that is powering your cameras and microphones, not to mention the TVs and radios that your audience is using, then I'm sure you'll agree that this is a loss for both species. We extend our gratitude and sympathy to the Howitz family and the families of all victims."
The black unicorn paused for a long moment. "Okay," he said, "that's it for the official release. The rest of what I'm about say is a personal statement.
"Ponies, nothing we saw on that video was a surprise. We've known about the less-savory elements of human society all along, even if we've tried to fool ourselves into thinking that we didn't. So please believe me when I say that any faux-shock or feigned outrage will be dismissed and later ridiculed by yours truly.
"Earth is not like Equestria. It is a wild and dangerous place, and the humans are a physically weak species. They can't fly. They have no magic whatsoever. They have to accept whatever random weather they get, and if that means a tornado, or a hurricane, or a blizzard, then too bad! Unlike ponies, they aren't guaranteed food, shelter, or an immortal alicorn princess to remind them of the long-term consequences of their actions. They are born, live, and die inundated with dangers and disadvantages. As such, the human race has been forced to live a rather desperate existence. They've poisoned parts of their planet, invented any number of deadly weapons with which to kill each other. And yes, they eat meat. It's a big issue for us herbivores, but the truth is that if humans weren't omnivorous, they probably would have starved to extinction twenty-thousand years ago when their planet froze over.
"None of this is to say that the humans are blameless. I'm not going to lie to you, Equestria: I still haven't entirely made up my mind about which of mankind's dirty little secrets I can accept, which I can not, and where I'm willing to give the humans credit for trying. But I'll tell you who I won't listen to. I'll tell you who has no right to judge anybody: ponies who blow up buildings. Ponies who shoot diplomats in cold blood. Ponies who cultivate fear and distrust by targeting innocents. That's not what I believe in. That's not what you believe in, either, I'll bet."
Paradigm glanced down at his hooves, his expression pensive. Then his eyes rose back up to the crowd. "Mares and gentlecolts, I am a pony. As such, I can't stand up here and apologize for humanity. But let me tell you, even if I had that authority, I wouldn't do it. Humans have done the best they could against a stacked deck. You want the headline here? Ponies couldn't have done any better. That's all I've got. I'll go ahead and take any questions now, thank you."
* * *
Within a minute, every being in the Communications Hub was back in motion, working their way down call-lists, preparing reports, collating documents for the Summit later that day. At least in this particular locale, the crisis was under control.
"Good job, Paradigm," said August into the hand-mic. She knew he could hear her in his earpiece. They watched him on the press-room monitor, fielding questions with deft and entertaining answers-- exactly what a Press Secretary was supposed to do.
"Unorthodox performance," commented Evening Edition. "But effective."
"We solve too many of our problems like that, I'll tell you," said August, wiping her brow with a handkerchief. "By the way, welcome to the Embassy."
* * *
END OF PART I
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Hell yeah! Step aside, Laura Roslin; there's a new game in town and his name is Paradigm!
Seriously, that was bucking awesome. Looking forward to more as always.
Oh wow. Just wow.
Those first two chapters were just easing us into ti weren't they? Suddenly we're introduced to what seems to be a few more of the main cast with several bits of dialogue and development between characters. I love this story now so much. I'm just at a loss for words now. These interplanetary politics remind me of a lot of arguments I've seen surrounding other HiE on this site. I just keep deleting what I'm writing because I can't say anything worthwhile about this anymore, I like it so much I'm just rambling nonsense now.
Damn, that was a good speech!
I can't wait for more!
Paradigm is best Press Secretary.
Eve is best New Girl.
I like how you told the readers the canon characters were still alive during the events of this story. Though none of them (that can age) have made appearances, so we don't know how old they are, and so we still don't know how much time has passed between the show and this story. Given what's going on, I could see a certain captain of the royal guard making an appearance at some point. Unless this story takes place in the same world as Daylight Burning... :(
I was about to pass this story up. I'm glad I didn't now.
So do the zebras have a different government or are they also a part of the Equestrian system?
885099 The Zebras are represented by a different government, hailing from the veldt that lies past the Canterlot Mountain Range. The Griffons also have a different government. I'm not sure the Dragons even have a government, but it's plausible that they do. I would love to incorporate all of these different, conflicting factions into the series once this particular story arc is finished.
874725 Rambling is highly encouraged.
885730
I'll just say I love the politics but I'm too stupid when talking about even fictional politics that I'd rather not embarrass myself.
These newer characters we were just introduced to were shown off with such flair that I'm already in love with them. Right away we get a good feel for what they're like as they interact with each other. I just loved the flow of this chapter.
886392 You probably know about as much about politics as me. I just watch a lot of TV.
885122 I would love to see a ponified Lord John Marbury when that happens.
"The world is coming apart at the seams."
"WELL THEN...Thank Celestia you sent for me!"
886514 OMFG I love that guy! It's so funny when he gets Leo's name wrong over and over again.
886519 "I thought you were the butler..."
886514 Also, I finally watch the pilot of Sorkin's The News Room and you're right, it is kind of like TCE. =P
Well, on to more detailed criticism.
This fic is not a pony version of West Wing, nor a pony version of News Room, but it is undeniably a perfect imitation of Aaron Sorkin's writing style. I'll admit, my first instinct was to try to match the various characters with counterparts from West Wing, but every one of your characters is unique and have next to no basis in Sorkin's works. Unique setting, unique characters, perfect mimicry of style. This thing is amazing. How amazing? I make it a point to find something to dislike about every incomplete fic I favorite to help the author improve. What do I dislike about this one? I'll have to get back to you on that, because I haven't found anything yet. THAT'S how amazing it is.
886657 No, you, bro. You're amazing. You.
I'm awfully glad you mentioned your main account back when I commented on SiiM, because you're really establishing yourself as an author to watch, and this is a story I'm excited to be following. This story is swinging for the fences by tackling both politics and interspecies relations -- and this chapter is a solid hit. We've known Paradigm for all of 1000 words and already he's got a crowning moment of awesome.
Eagerly looking forward to more!
Paradigm is new best OC pony.
Aah, all this confusion, all this chao-DISCORD
This took me far to long to get around to reading. Loving the story even more!
I love it! And I love how you averted "Humans are Bastards". And Paradigm's defense of Humanity is perfectly valid. And the characters are astoundingly well developed.
And why does New Dawn strike me as a ponified version of Al Qaeda? Granted, their motivations and methods are similar.
All in all, you combined the high octane thrills of Tom Clancy with the political intrigue of The West Wing.
This is by far the most interesting take on humanity meeting equestria I've had the pleasure of reading. I'm really looking forward to where you go with it.
1817357 Oh shit, that's a GREAT IDEA!
This story rocks; faved and waiting for more!
Now, we begin once again.
Re-reading this was entirely too fun. Waiting for more, on the other hand...
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1817904
Yeah, pretty much.
OMG! THIS IS THE GREATEST FANFIC I'VE EVER READ IN MY LIFE! You managed to put in two things together that most writers can not and/or will not do: political issues humans and ponies have with eachother, AND HUMAN/PONY RELATIONSHIPS! Those two together is what kept me here! Great job!
Is it bad if my immediate response to this was:
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Also I must congratulate Guesswork on his job with Paradigm. When I first read Paradigms description I thought something along the lines of "Oh lord, this dude is going to be obnoxious as hell!" Then came the speech and I warmed up to him considerably, especially thanks to him calling the New Douches out on their hypocrisy.
1819321 I'm not sure your comment formatted correctly, mate.
1819323 Looks fine to me. What does it look like to you?
1819359
Funny Junk isn't friendly to hotlinking their images, lol. I don't see the image either. Had to get the url from the page source. :P
This is the image you tried to post, right?
[img]image removed because it doesn't need to be on this page twice.jpg[/img]
1819371 That would be correct. Thanks for the heads up, I didn't know that about that website. Now I'm wondering how many jokes of mine feel flat because all they saw was a broken link.
1819379
And holy shit, I just noticed that FimFiction now automatically resizes images in comments, and lets you click it to see the bigger version. That is neat.
Np, I had to learn that about Funny Junk the hard way too.
[Edit] Weird that it didn't resize my Pinkie image from earlier... I wonder what the requirement is for that to kick in?
1819402 Heh, didn't even notice that until you mentioned it. That is pretty neat. All the better to spam pony pictures I guess!
This fic is fantastic.
This is fantastic, very well written.
1819852 I never really though of this as nepotism, although the case could definitely be made, and in fact probably should be made by the Republican opposition if/when August herself lands in the media crosshairs. To this point, she's only been a secondary to Harry Kobayashi, but now that she's in the spotlight, she's more vulnerable to that accusation. August will have to tread lightly, and so will President Lansing.
1819894 Thanks for the tip; after all the coverage on the Benghazi incident, I suppose I should I have gotten that one right. Ah, well, I think I'll leave the Secret Service with August, and change the protection for Bill, etc. to the Diplomatic Security Service as suggested.
The fact that you even know all this stuff makes you a prime member of my target audience!
Thanks for commenting and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
I absolutely love this. You've done so well so far and I look forward to more. Please, take as much time as you need to if all chapters end up like this.
When is this story set? My best guess is early 2030's.
Loved the chapter.
Woo, this is back!
I enjoy stories with large-scale, mostly-friendly Earth/Equestria interactions, and there aren't enough of them.
By far the most unique pony-human contact story I have read, I look forward to reading more of it.
My one criticism would be trying to tie to many things together and make them a little more dramatic than they need to be - August is the daughter of the president, a president who saved the on station military commander, who is dating an equestrian prosecutor who is the brother of a equestrian journalist that she hires.
My basic thought is that there is no need for August to be the president's daughter, and no need for the president to be a war hero and connected to the general on site. These details are superflous to the story you are telling and detract from a great story by seeming to try a little to hard.
1833405 I know, it gets kind of ridiculous, right? I'm not trying to tell a realistic story as much as I'm trying to evoke a genre, and in some ways mock its tropes. This kind of spaghetti relationship chart is definitely in line with the political dramedy, although it also might say something about how small these upper-echelon social circles are, even in real life. After all, it's not what you know, it's who you know. Or would that be "whom" you know?
Also just wanted to mention this. Paradigm a black coated pony with a silver tongue who's able to talk his way out of any bad spot for him or his client. Seems familiar. Oh well, he'd make for one hell of a negotiator.
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1844549 LOLOLOL! Wuh-oh, I think we have an unintended homage here.
1846833 It's a good one too.
1839179 I think the character was being ironic, hyperbolic, etc. I didn't mean to smear Greenpeace, they were just the only environmental group within easy reach.
1839179 I address your second point in Ch4 but I'll give you a hint: The human portal does not exit directly into Equestria, but into neutral territory nearby.
I put this story into my read later stack back when it still had chapters, and was disappointed when I found that the chapters had been removed by the time I got around to it. Now that they're back and I've read it, I must say that the wait was well worth it. The writing was incredible, worthy of any serious television drama. I especially like how you gave us a human/pony relationship, and didn't make a big deal out of it. The nearly all OC cast really gives me hope for my future poject, once my current one has finished its run. There's a serious West Wing meets NCIS kind of vibe going on here, and I love it.
I salute you, sir/madam. You have my star and my thumbs-up.