36 - It's a Change to Be a Pony
Lyra took a soft breath as she sat back in her seat. The recent excitement was still lingering in her, but she did her best to set it aside. It wasn't fair to the exotic patient in front of her. "So… Hi. I'm Lyra Heartstrings, but I get the feeling you already know that? You said you're a once-human…" She rolled a hoof. "If I could have you prove that somehow?"
The changeling thought for a moment before grinning deviously. “Sure thing.” He rolled his hoof in the same way that Lyra did when it was enveloped in a green flame. The hoof morphed into something resembling a human hand, but the digits fell at odd angles. “Will this do?” he asked.
”I can never get it to work like it should,” he muttered under his breath, watching the digits fall.
Lyra perked an ear at the oddly shaped hand. "That's… kinda weird." She flashed a smile. "How about more of a knowledge thing? What did you do before you got here? What's your name? What'd you do? You know, that kind of thing. We should get to know each other."
“Ah.” The changeling nodded politely. “How rude of me, I’m Simon Turing.” He extended his hand with a calculated grin before noticing it was still a disturbingly bad counterfeit of the real thing. “Sorry.” The hand changed back into a hoof.
“As for what I did, I was one of the lead developers at a tech company that my friend started up. He wanted to work on improving communication while I wanted to work on simulation software. We decided to combine a lot of our ideas, and that led to some pretty interesting inventions.”
“Oh!” The changeling suddenly leaned forward. “Have you heard of the mechanical differential? Some of the new pedaling carriages in Canterlot are using it! It’s a human invention from several years ago.”
A march of unfamiliar words danced across Lyra's ears, and she became a little more convinced the changeling in front of her really might be a once-human. "A pleasure to meet you, Simon. Let me ask this." She reached out and gently bumped hooves. "How do you feel? You… seem to have gotten a hold of your new body. I'm afraid I couldn't really relate to a changeling body. The closest I got was their leader brainwashing me." She made a bit of a face. "Let's not think on that for long."
“Wait.” Simon tilted his head. “Changelings have a leader? Should I meet with him, or her?” He studied Lyra as he said that, watching for a reaction. “Though, brainwashing doesn’t seem very smart.” He shook his head. “Whatever, that can wait until later.”
“Being a changeling is a bit different from being a human,” Simon continued. “First—” he raised a hoof “—it always feels like my hands are balled up into fists, but the granular jamming these hooves must use allows me to pick up things that would normally be hard for humans to pick up. Also, it’s kind of hard getting used to feeling the emotions of everypony around me. And feeling their magic is a little disorienting, especially if they’re using a complicated spell.” He paused, widening his eyes for an instant. It was the same look one would give after letting a secret slip out. ”And it’s even more frustrating since I usually have no idea what it means,” he finished one last statement, forcing out a frown so his surprise could be read as annoyance.
"Their leader is a big meanie. You'll do just as well avoiding her entirely. I'm afraid I don't know too much about changelings beyond the basics, like shapeshifting, which you seem to have down? I mean, you had me going with your Twilight disguise! You really shouldn't imitate other ponies though, that's not nice." A thought came to her suddenly. "Wait, you can feel magic?"
“Mhmm.” Simon nodded. “Well, feeling magic comes from the fact that I can feel emotions like love, and love is often used when concentrating and casting spells, especially with strong or complicated ones.” He laid back on his chair and smiled at Lyra, relaxing a bit for the first time since he came in. “And thanks for the compliment! It’s not really a matter of niceness though, more of survival.” The ceiling seemed to hold his interest for a couple seconds before he spoke again, gesticulating more freely now.
“I decided to stop in Manehattan once, to see what ponies in urban areas needed, and that’s when I ran into the Loom gang. The best way I could describe them would be a bunch of professional con-ponies that prowled the streets for anything new. Since many entrepreneurs need to test their ideas with the general public even before they build them, the gang sought out ponies that showed off new inventions and ideas. Then, if the entrepreneurs on the streets seemed broke, they would simply give the ideas to the companies that worked in the closest area, and the companies couldn’t refuse, lest their competitors get the ideas instead.
”On the other hand, if the entrepreneurs on the street seemed wealthy enough, then the leader, Carbon Copy, I think his name was, would approach the entrepreneur with a deal: either pay them now or lose their invention. Either way, they would launder their money through a suspiciously successful textile business called Loom Corp.
“Since I didn’t have a patent yet, I promised that I’d pay him a fee of exactly ten thousand bits for the rest of his life if he didn’t give the idea to a company. That would protect my invention for a little while, and it would also mean I would only have to pay him ten thousand bits up front. However, it wouldn’t protect me if a large company offered something better.
“Luckily, being a changeling gave me a unique advantage. I managed to pose as Carbon Copy’s… carbon copy, and took his place in the gang for a while. To explain the change in attitude, I told his followers that I was sick, and that they should get me to the hospital if I didn’t remember anything about that day. Then, since he seemed to use fear of blackmail to get his ponies to do what he wanted, I was able to tell his followers to give the ideas out to random companies, instead of the ones we trusted, claiming we shouldn’t settle for safe companies when we could show them who’s really control. Of course, this would destroy the trust that Carbon had worked for for so long, as no company would pay more than a bit for the ideas if they knew they were given out at random.
“I also messed with a few invention papers, adding mistakes here and there. A few unlucky companies would pay thousands or even millions of bits for an idea that didn’t work at all.
“And at the end of the day, Carbon Copy came back with several more documents, but was sent to the hospital before he could do anything. His followers feared him, yes, but they also feared for their livelihood and what would happen to it if their leader became reckless from his sickness. So Carbon was stuck in the hospital for two more days before he could check out, only to find that his gang had departed, that his company was going bankrupt, and that one of the companies he sold to decided to rat him out to the entrepreneurs he was stealing from.
“Don’t worry though, I made sure his followers were well off enough that they could live their own lives without worry after Carbon was gone.”
Simon sat back up, gazing at Lyra with steely eyes. He watched for any suspicion or disgust in response to his tale of impersonation and trespassing before continuing, “If I hadn’t changed into the pony, I wouldn’t even have found out that Carbon had a gang, let alone the fact that he was laundering money he stole from entrepreneurs over several years.” Now he was smiling. He seemed a bit more at peace. “And from then on, it became a bit of a habitual strategy of mine, but it proved its worth more often than not.”
“And lastly,” he said, “while I understand that the changeling leader could be pretty mean, finding out about my biology could be pretty important.”
Noticing a cup of water on the desk next to him, Simon levitated it in front of his face. But instead of sipping from it, he simply stared at it for a second before setting it back down.
“Besides, isn’t treating potentially harmful members of society part of your job? Or was this more of a culture clash?”
Lyra pointed at the instrument on her flank. "Would you believe I started as a musician? But life's funny sometimes, and we have to look at where we are and where we want to be, and while I was making ponies happy with my music, I thought I could make a bigger difference helping them out one by one, you know, face-to-face?" She leaned forward a bit in her chair. "You seem to be adapting very well. Do you miss your, you know... home? With all the other humans." The matter of crime syndicates and their dealings went largely over her head. That was the sort of thing that happened in movies, right?
“I made my decision when I decided to try that thing.” He muttered.
“No,” he continued, shaking his head. “In the first few weeks or months after I left, sure I missed my friends. But the fact that nobody at my company came looking for me or even sent me a message, despite me being the co-founder and despite VoxTech’s enormous resources and enormous curiosity…” Simon tried to hold his emotions in, but choked at the last moment. His face stayed neutral, but he had to steady his breath before continuing.
”I think it’s more likely that I’m still there somehow, perhaps as the original version of a copy. So I can’t… I can’t be sad for them, because they didn’t lose me. I get a new chance at life, and I plan to take advantage of that.”
He continued to steady his breathing.
“I can definitely believe a musician might become a psychiatrist. Music can often inspire strong emotions, and I can understand wanting to inspire ponies to be better… Have you ever used music to help with psychiatry?” he tried to turn the tables.
With a soft pop, Lyra's lyre appeared beside her. "I have a few times, but you bring up a few questions. If you don't mind, how could they have sent a message to you?" She perked an ear. "Can you send messages to them?" Her magic softly felt along the strings, making the ghost of a potential song play over them. "That would put you ahead of the others."
A ghost of a smile passed over Simon’s face, and he answered with the barest of details, “I was testing universal surface theory, one of the many theories that we thought up to further the simulator side of our business. You see, like this table—” he tapped his hoof “—a two dimensional surface existing in three dimensions, our universe could be a three dimensional surface existing in four dimensions. But unlike the table, the reason it stays a surface is because of two or more opposing forces—” he pressed his hooves together “—like if you were pressing dough together with your hooves.” A wild grin plastered itself over Simon’s face as he looked at Lyra. “But what if, somewhere on that surface, one of the hooves pushed too hard, and the other too little?”
Simon’s smile lingered for one more moment before it disappeared entirely. “They could send messages to me, if the theory’s correct, but I seriously doubt that I could send messages back since I don’t have access to the company resources... Plus,” Simon sighed, “it could be the reason humans are coming here, but on the other hand, our dimensions could be on a collision course, and the only way to stop it would be to send more stuff over.”
He laid back against the armrest of his chair, never taking his eyes off Lyra as he did so, before sighing again. “That was a bit of a downer. You wouldn’t mind talking about something less serious, would you? Like, um… when did you learn you liked music? Or, how did you come to be a psychiatrist?”
Lyra's magic gently coaxed the lyre into full action, playing a peaceful melody that filled the room but didn't drown out her talking. "I really hope the answer isn't just to keep throwing things across and hoping for the best? But alright, let's put that aside for now. I don't understand dimensional stuff all that well, but it's amazing to me how much you seem to." She tapped her chin, thinking of something not immediately relevant to the current crisis. "Music came to me at a young age. I was small, eager, and curious. I tried a lot of things, but the moment I got my hooves on a harp, I knew I liked it."
She gestured at the lyre. "But harps are huge, and I didn't like that. Once somepony showed me they came in tiny cute sizes, I was sold forever." She twanged a string softly. "It was good inspiration to get my magic down. I mean, sure I could strum with my hooves, but horn magic is so much more precise. I guess that's how most unicorns feel." She pointed at her guest. "You seem to have your horn magic working alright?"
The sound of trickling water was added to the music as Simon levitated the water from his cup. “I have levitation magic working pretty well,” he said. “But I’m surprised you just picked up a harp and started playing. For me, I can only stick with a skill if someone other than me gets enjoyment out of it. After all, nothing is beautiful, or even worthwhile, without someone to perceive it as such.”
Lyra tilted her head slowly. "But a lot of ponies like my music. I used to play in the town philharmonic until I found this new profession. Who doesn't like well-played music?" She smiled gently. "Besides, you have to find what you like, nopony else. You're the one that's going to be doing it, after all." She rolled a hoof at him. "Alright, so, I have to ask, what do you think you need right now? I'm listening and ready to help, but you have me lost. You have a really good grip on things right now."
Simon smirked behind the water that was still twirling in the air. “Then I suppose my facade is quite well constructed. Because unlike you, I cannot love or like anything without someone or someone loving it as well.“
Now a bit more calm, he leaned back in his chair and held his head up with a hoof, finally opening up a bit. “Even before I came here, my desires only ever revolved around those closest to me, despite the fact that I was less attached than most. But because of the difference in culture and technology, as well as my biology, I found it hard to make friends here without spending all my energy lying about who I was and what I did.”
Would that Lyra had more modern training and could explain the mental processes at work behind such thoughts. Instead she just smiled a little. "If you're with real friends, they'll accept you for what you like, not wait for you to parrot what they like." She pointed at Simon. "What do you like? You're alone in the world but have one of everything, what would you pick up and play with?" She perked an ear at the changeling-human-pony. "I hope you don't mind my saying you're a curious pony, and I mean that in a good way!" She smiled genuinely as she adjusted her monocle.
Simon frowned. A field of every item in Equestria flew by in his mind, and he felt nothing for any of it. He looked like he was about to give a quite rude retort about how she ignored what he just said, but then something hit him. He had found something he cared about.
“A foal,” he said coolly. “Or whatever changeling young are called. After all, that’s what I treat all my creations as, and no one would have more love and pride for me.” He slowly looked up at Lyra.
“Maybe I could adopt.”
Lyra canted her head a little, surprised at the answer. "Adopting can be a wonderful thing." She blinked as she realized. "I'm… not really sure how changelings make little changelings? The old-fashioned way I guess? Uh, you don't have to prove that to me one way or the other." She held up a hoof placatingly. "But, you know, a little companionship wouldn't hurt either way… You are full of surprises! I didn't think you'd say that in a million years."
Professional she is not, but genuine she tries to be. "I do wish we had another changeling around for these questions, but ponies and changelings are not on the best terms. I'm going to have to tell the ponies around town to expect you." She tapped her chin. "Not that it's your fault, or even bad, to be what you are. You're fine, better than fine! You're amazing."
For a moment, Simon let his guard down and offered a completely genuine smile. “Thanks. You’re not that bad either.”
“Note to self,” he muttered, “I need to find another changeling.”
Lyra wobbled a hoof. "I'd like to schedule a weekly meeting, just to make sure you're doing alright. There's no shame in having a friend, and I hope you see me as one. For now, do you have a place to stay? You've been in town for longer than today I gather?" A thought came to her suddenly. "Oh! What were you like, you know, before you came here? Is it a big change, or feeling like the same old same old?"
He nodded. “I already have a place, but I wouldn’t mind seeing the ponies in the once-human home, as you call it.” A serene expression came over Simon’s face as memories passed by. “Before I came here, I was practically on my deathbed, using myself as a guinea pig for crazy experiments that could kill me as easily as they could succeed. I was an entrepreneur then, and I’m an entrepreneur now, so not much has changed there. I would like to see my grandkids again sometime, but I don’t think I would’ve had much of a chance back home, what with the myeloma and all. The main difference between then and now is that I feel a lot younger and healthier now.”
Lyra's expression became both concerned and a little sad. "It can't be fun to leave your family behind like that… Having to leave behind my Sweetie Drops would be pretty awful." She frowned a little. "But you're the second once-human I know of that was under the… oh wait…" She tapped at the desk next to her. "Huh… Now tell me if I'm way off-track here," said few therapists, "but a lot of once-humans were in a very distressed or disassociated kind of state. Falling to their death, under the effects of strong drugs, or in the process of dying and self-medicating? I… can't ignore that as a recurring kind of trigger for this."
Simon tapped his chin. “Maybe… It could either be the state of mind, or people actually died. Either way, I couldn’t tell you much: humans don’t really have a global consensus on the afterlife, and I don’t know why a different state of mind would effect anything back home.”
Lyra gave a bit of a giggle. "I don't know anypony's theories saying you go off to an exotic land of bipeds. I don't think this is… normal." she rolled a hoof. "We're trying to fix it, you know, so ponies don't just keep falling from one to the other." She slipped down to her hooves. "But for you, I'm glad to hear you're getting along so well. I'll show you to the once-human house, but I won't insist you stay there if you have a place, just come by and say hello when you want."
“Thank you.” He stood up from his chair, feeling that the meeting had reached its end. “I suppose I’ll see you later then?”
The water he had been levitating slowly made its way back into the cup on the nearby table.
Lyra nodded with a smile. "Whenever you need me, and at least once a week, just to check up on each other and see how things are going. Friends should check in one each other, right?"
“Right,” Simon agreed.
“Oh,” he said as he turned around and pulled something out from behind him. “I forgot to mention it because I was so excited about this free psychiatry thing, but I noticed one of your quills fell on the floor.” His horn kept the exact same intensity as he levitated the metal tipped object.
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I can't help but picture Lyra leading a quiet group session while outside reality disolves beneath a bleeding sky. Because I'm pretty sure that's how that would go down.
Aren't too many new characters appearing all at the same time? I mean, the bat pony, the foal, the drug addicted and the changeling... While it's true that some of the old once-humans have settled, I fear that they might sort of dissapear if you add that many new ones. I hope I'm wrong
Anyway, kerp up the good work
6091804 These last two were one-offs, so they basically already vanished.
Ohoho, is he introducing pens? Twilight's gonna have a field day with those
Oh. Okay. *sigh* I feel like I need to do this. Uh, have you ever read the works of Meep the Changeling? She uses Pathfinder a lot in her writings and based on this story, I think you and her would be good friends. You should talk to her. She's friendly.
...Really? Is no one seeing how manipulative this guy is?
Really? All those times with the looking for the reactions, hiding information, and the thing with the— 6091903
...
Huh. Okay then. Well, those are the mannerisms of a sociopath that is actively manipulating you. I could've added more clues, but then you would have to question how he survived as a changeling.
6092328 Ponies are so trusting!
6092346
Oh yeah, were you going to do much with the changeling before the collabing? I wouldn't want to have plucked a character from your story.
6092662 I'm not even mad.
Oh lordy, there's now a love sucker in the house!
Man, can you imagine some random pony visiting the town and they were to somehow meet the motley group? They'd think they've entered crazy town... then again, this IS Ponyville.
6092938 Situation normal.
6092949
Course the question now is, how will he sate his hunger? Will he be forced to prey off his fellow humans turned ponies? Will he haunt the night of Ponyville like a dark figure in the shadows? Or will he be the star in foals entertainment earning him the joy and admiration of so many young ones?
Hrmmmm, the possibilities.
The minute I heard his name, and that he was working on simulation software, 'Turing Test', was the first thing that popped into my mind... lol
Artichokelust's comment got me thinking... What better way to infiltrate the group then as a changeling pretending to be a human that was turned into a changeling. Especially if he has the real Turning tied up somewhere, and is using him for enough human information to keep his cover from being blown.
Or it could just be self induced paranoia stemming from an innate dislike for bug ponies (kill it with fire!), sorry, sorry, ignore that last part...
6092958
Well, I think Turing already has that figured out, at least, since he's been in Equestria long enough to share stories about it.
6092985
Yes, let the paranoia fill your soul.
I like Simon. He's certainly an interesting character. I look forward to seeing where he goes from here.
That last sentence definitely seems to have some degree of significance, but whatever it is, it's lost on me.
Also:
Improper capitalization.
Extra space.
6094019 Fixed!
meh, not so much a fan of mister super inventor solo gang breakupper spy crime fighter changeling who knows how to go between worlds and is the big shot ceo with a tragic past because he is too aloof to find love.
Takes all kinds, I guess.
6092985
Infiltrate the group as a pony pretending to be a human turned into a pony. Then nobody's suspicious about the changeling thing, nobody thinks it weird you've never been seen around before, and so you don't have to copy somepony in particular. Lather, rinse, repeat, devour sun.
6091814
I see... Well, good to know :)
6094862
It's an acquired taste. I'm not sure where you get the tragic past thing from though. He had grandkids, owned a company, and was about to die of old age. That's pretty much as far as you can get from a tragic past.
If Elon Musk was there instead it'd probably be even closer to what you said.
6094907
From the "I am unable to love" stuff, it sort of sounded like a tragic backstory of angst. I just find it hard to suspend my disbelief when faced with the CEO of a large successful research corporation who isn't a huge jerk, while reading about the candy colored unicorns who shoot magic from their heads at ticklish flying horses.
6094942
That's more minor depression, actually, which would make sense given his circumstances. Also, you really shouldn't equate 'depression' with 'backstory of angst'. (Also, this might be a case of 'reality being unreaistic')
Ah, the art-style dissonance. I was afraid of that. I don't think it goes into narm territory though, maybe uncanny valley. (He is kind of a jerk though.)
6094966
Well, there's a difference between "depression, barely getting by from day to day, need to exercise more but too much of a pain to expend the effort, got stiffed by the gas guy last week" and "depression, that doesn't get in the way of my stellar success achiving the highest position in society and raising a loving family, but sure is convenient to give me depth of character." So don't worry, I don't automatically associate depression with a lone hero with a tragic past.
I wouldn't call it art style dissonance. I was just making a self deprecatory joke at the irony of how clearly outraged I am at the unrealism of a man who achieved corporate success, while not paying any mind to the unrealism of MLP itself, or any other unrealistic story elements that don't involve someone being more successful than me.
6095035
Depression isn't always acute, or even always seemingly related to anything. And I'm not really sure what you mean by that "but sure is convenient to give me depth of character" comment.
Besides, entrepreneurs in real life tend to have a lot more mental health problems than normal people.
Ah, sorry. Humor is easy to lose through the internet.
6095050 I'm one of those and look at me!!
Excellent work on the story my friend. Loving it heaps. Keep up the great writing
6095235 Thanks for the kind words. I'll do my best!
Var chapter : int
Var author :string
Put "Enter chapter number"
Get chapter
36
Put "Enter author"
Get author
David Silver
Put "I enjoyed chapter" ,chapter, " !" "
Put "Keep up the good work",author, " !"
Sorry, got a little carried away there. Someone tell me they understood that!
6100189 You don't have sufficient permissions to compile this program on this terminal. The authorities have been contacted.
you mean this ?
images.wikia.com/mlp/images/archive/8/8a/20120806234314!Minuette,_Lyra_Heartstrings_and_Twinkleshine_brainwashed_1_S2E26.png