Mancala

by Schismatism

Uncertainty

Crimson took the point. "Who, and what, are you?"

For a moment, I sat there, quietly counting to ten as the question resonated in my mind. All those inconsistencies had been just thrown down on the table before me, by a group of three ponies who I wouldn't have assumed were quite so competent as I'd just witnessed. It made sense, in a way, though. Here you had three folks who were well enough regarded that ponies would put up with their shenanigans on a regular basis, who regularly patrolled the Everfree...

Really, I should have seen it coming a mile away. Still, you live and learn.

That having been said, it was taking all my effort not to apply hoof to forehead as I mulled over what was, under the circumstances, one of the stupidest questions I'd heard in my life.

"...Gem?" asked Shamrock with a smirk as I remained silent, one ear twitching. "Is there a reason you're having trouble answering that?"

"Well, yes," I started, my voice grinding slightly. "I suppose I am, because you already know the answer to that question. And you should know that it's the wrong one entirely."

Crimson let out a chuff of air, tapping her hoof on the table. My attention was briefly drawn to the rippling of water in the cup before me, and I drained it in a quick motion before it distracted me too much. Some things, I swear.

It wasn't even so much that I wanted to throw up at the focus, but... you know the feeling, I'm certain, that chill of ice water down your spine when you're confronted by an unpleasant need. 'Bite the bullet and be it, Jen,' I thought to myself, groaning as I gestured over to my bag. "I'm going to grab my things, I think. It'll make this easier to explain... make it easier to answer some of the questions you should be asking."

If they felt slighted by my insistence, they didn't show it, and I slid out of my seat to grab the bag. I still didn't trust my horn enough to use telekinesis on the stuff, for the most part, but I figured that a hoof-field could compensate. If nothing else, a pair of styluses would work for manipulation. As I did, I explained, "Who I am, what I am, well. What you see is what you get. My name's Divided Gem, and I'm a changeling, who woke up in the Everfree and was escorted here by a pack of guards." My brain, rebelling against the idea of explaining more, tried to nitpick on the details. 'Is it styluses, or styli? Stupid language.' It didn't take long for me to unzip the bag and start pulling out the essentials: phone, tablet, laptop. The lattermost in particular earned a hiss of breath from the two who hadn't seen it before, as they recognized the shell for what it was. Bully for them.

"I'm going to start with the assumption that all of this is going to the top." I didn't have to explain further there, as all three nodded solemnly. "As such, then, my past in a nutshell. I am -- was, maybe -- a student at a not-so-prestigious school, no major but leaning towards arts. One sister, both parents still living. Extended family's all through the country. Not rich, not poor: very middle-class. No pets right now, and thank the gods for that." At the random blasphemy - maybe? - an eyebrow or two was raised. Crimson had taken out a small pad of paper, which my wandering mind took some interest in: it was much rougher than my own A4 copy. 'Standardization still not quite there...'

"Right," Shamrock cut in, adding, "I think you said you came from a city named Toronto. I did some looking about. There's no city of that name -- anywhere. At least, not in Equestria, not in Minos, not in Gryphonia. There might be something of that name in the Zebra territories, I don't know."

"And no records of a country named Canada, nor of the United States of America, nor France or Germany or anything else," I guessed.

"Prance and Germaney are Equestrian territories," corrected Shamrock, leading to a slight wince from me.

"That figures. Parallels abound..." I sighed, and this time I did cover my face, at least in part, with a hoof. "That's neither here nor there. Well, it's both, but..." I trailed off, met with a glare from Crimson. Ah, right, puns. Collecting myself, I added, "What I'm about to say is unbelievable, the things you get in fiction, most of it badly-written stuff. Pulp pap. The existence of these," here I gestured to the laptop, "corroborates part of it, and it's part of what makes me certain that I'm not just a changeling who's had her memories altered as some kind of sick plot."

The three perked up expectantly, and I lifted the lid on the laptop, continuing as I did. "How many of you are familiar with the basic idea of the 'multiverse'?"

Surprisingly, it was Cobalt who answered, though I could tell Shamrock had something to say too. "Anything that happens could have happened a different way," the pegasus spoke up. "When it did, both things happened, just in different timelines. Some collapsed, merged, or were too similar to really make a difference."

"Anything that could happen, happens," finished Shamrock. "Wait, how do you know that? Was it something in one of those terrible romance novels?"

"Egk," choked the pegasus, then sighed. "Yeah. You don't want to know. That one was really bad."

"Anyway, you got it in one," I noted, pressing the power button. The 'beep' of the laptop finishing POST startled the three, but it wasn't loud enough to cause too much consternation. "There's more to it, and also a corollary to that which... it's not relevant, really." 'Heinlein's Corollary,' I considered. 'But I've already had enough of existential dread to last me a lifetime.' "What is relevant is... well. There's very strong evidence leaning in favour of the position that I come from an alternate universe, timeline, reality, whatever you want to call it. Almost impossibly strong, to be honest."

"A place where there are seven billion people," muttered Crimson. Ah, good, so she'd picked up on that. Her eyes narrowed at me. "You said you told us that just for shock value."

"And that was the absolute truth," I grinned, though a bit sheepishly. "Both of them were. I wasn't really thinking then, and I am sorry... but I wasn't in any frame of mind to explain much of anything then." Here I looked over at Crimson's notes, and opined, "If you're going to send those off, please don't omit anything. I don't want to have to explain any of this multiple times."

For what it's worth, Crimson just nodded, turning back to her paper. Cobalt, meanwhile, took the opportunity to fly before the computer, hovering in the air as though it was going to bite him. "What's a ... Jennifer? Or a qwerty?"

"Qwerty's just the name of the layout," I explained, gesturing at the keyboard with my horn. "And... well. The other thing. That's my birth name. Part of it." I waited for expressions of shock and dismay, but none seemed forthcoming. Still, I felt a need to explain a bit further. "And please don't ask for the rest of it right now. That bit of sorcery I pulled in the hospital is about the only magic I really know, but there are weird stories about Names."

"Weird how?" asked Shamrock, watching with some interest as I picked up a regular plastic pen in my hoof. The aluminium one, I left be for the time. "And how did you do that? Oaths are one thing, but that was a lot more than a mere promise."

"Lucky guess," I admitted, earning a flinch from all three. "Yeah, I know. I wasn't playing with fire, I was playing with explosives. As for Names... it varies from time to time, or place to place, but the general gist is that a Name is a person's identity, and when freely given, it can then be used to ensnare or compel. I have no intentions of testing that," I added to forestall objections, as I typed in my password. 'Caps lock, letter, number, letter, lock, symbol...' I paused, then picked up another pen in my second forehoof to hold down the shift key for that one. Then I paused again as a thought struck me.

"I'm changing this immediately after we're done today, by the way."

Crimson, who'd been watching intently, let out a huff of displeasure, and I knew I'd struck a note. "That's fine," she blatantly lied in that deadpan way. "We don't need whatever that is, anyway."

I nearly had to bite my tongue to still my first retort. 'Oh yes, you do' wouldn't go over well, and would probably be suicidal to boot. Instead, I cleared my throat, and held the pen over the return key. "Out of curiosity," I asked, "what do you think this is?"

Cobalt spoke up now, hesitantly. "You said it was... information storage, right? Like a book? I seem to recall that, anyway..."

I gave a nod, and withheld pressing that last button, instead opting to rummage through my pack for a second. Finding my goal took a few seconds, but shortly thereafter, I held up the item in question triumphantly. "Alright, then. This is a high-density storage device. it operates in tandem with this laptop, but not with the other two - there's nowhere to plug it in on them." I showed off the thumb-drive to each of the three ponies, in particular the '128 GB' on the top. It was around as long as the frog of my hoof, which made it even easier to compare sizes.

Doing a bit of mental arithmetic didn't take long, and I mused over plaintext... then remembered seeing a few ePub files. That made things easier. "Now, I want you to imagine a book. Let's make it a small one, like, oh, a penny-dreadful paperback." I shot a wry grin at Cobalt, who flushed once again, ears tilted back. "Somewhere along the lines of fifty thousand words, right?"

"Thereabout," replied Shamrock, stepping in. "So about two to three hundred pages. A quick night's read." I hummed in appreciation of the fact that she was at least avid enough to ballpark that figure. "With a good hard spine to beat a changeling's head in if she doesn't get to the point." Ouch.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting to it! Sheesh, police brutality," I riposted, my acidulous grin mirroring hers. "So with that in mind, how many books do you think that this thing," and here I let the drive fall on the table with a light 'click', "can hold? Average size, nothing more."

Crimson spoke up this time. "What does 'GB' mean?" She was a little more active than I'd seen her before, so something I was doing was at least sparking interest. Inside, of course, she was burning with curiosity, but she did have to put on the 'great stone face'.

"I'll tell you, but for now, just give me a guess," I returned. I wanted to know what they thought. Cobalt was muttering something about 'alien technology', and I think that Shamrock was reciting a line from a Daring Do novel about the wonders of ancient civilizations.

Crimson refused to rise to my bait, however, and after a pause, Cobalt finally raised a hoof. "About... a thousand?" He sounded decidedly unsure, probably imagining things like microfiche. As I looked around the table, the other two gave a nod, though Crimson's sharp retort was more of an 'n'.

"Not a bad guess," I smiled, and it wasn't. "That would probably very well have been the case... a few years ago. But I'm afraid that you're off by at least a factor of three."

"IMPOSSIBLE!", Crimson exploded, slamming her hoof against the tabletop. The various devices rattled and shook, the phone almost sliding off the table before I stretched out my leg to catch it. A cup fared somewhat worse, spilling water over the floor -- but it was thankfully out of the way of the delicate electronics. "There is no way - no WAY - that thing can hold a hundred thousand books! That's... that's half of the Canterlot archives!"

I grinned, and swept my hoof over to pick up the flash drive. "That's all in plain text. Adding pictures, adding extra notes and characters, adding everything brings it down to maybe... well, about a tenth of that. Still pretty impressive, though, wouldn't you say?" Heck, if all the illustrations were in greyscale, and granular to boot, then that would bring it back up quite a ways... probably.

Crimson looked like she was going to reduce me to a smear on the wall, but I knew she had better control over herself than that. Well. I hoped she had better control over herself than that, anyway. After a few seconds, thankfully, I was proven right, as she closed her eyes and slumped back in her seat, breathing heavily. The other two just looked awestruck.

"We've gotten off track, anyway," I brought up, though I was ever grateful for the brief reprieve. It was time for me to answer... "For the second half of that question, what I was, I'm going to bring up a few pictures." I tapped the return key, as the machine had gone into sleep mode, then typed in my password again... this time without such a willing audience. They were just on tenterhooks, and I think I might have been getting high on the curiosity all three were exuding.

Of course, nothing happens instantaneously, and I waited as patiently as I could while the spinning circles did their thing, Windows taking its time to load up as always. At the boot chime, Crimson finally opened her eyes again, turning her attention to the screen as it displayed a backdrop of an alien planet, all purples and greens. The fidelity of the image seemed to have its own impact on the trio, but none of them spoke up, just waiting for me to do my thing.

Thankfully, the tip of a hoof was good enough to actually manipulate the mouse cursor on the trackpad. I wasn't sure why, but for whatever reason, it responded just as readily as the phone and tablet... something I'd have to look into in the future, much like a million other things. For now, though, I brought up the Pictures folder, looking for a good portrait.

"I think I'm starting to see why you said this would be useless to any thieves," opined Shamrock. "Even if they could get into this 'vault', they wouldn't have the first clue what to do from there." She was idly poking at the phone as though she expected it to bite.

"Yeah, but security through 'what the crap do I do next' doesn't usually work. People push buttons until there are no more left to push. Mind, if they wiped this thing by accident..." That didn't bear thinking on, and I finally found the image which I sought. Turning the laptop so they could get a better look, I brought up a picture of myself from a year ago.

As pictures of humans go, it really wasn't much to look at. Caucasian female, about 165 cm, standing in front of the Leviathan coaster at Canada's Wonderland. Mussed brown hair, shoulder-length; grey eyes, white teeth, a bit of an offset jaw. It'd been a cold spring, so even near the end of it I was wearing an autumnal jacket and blue jeans... well. If you've seen one pic, you've seen them all. In the background, the standard assortment of fairgoers, tourists, et al.

Amber had taken that picture. I had to remind myself that I could think about that later. It wasn't important right now.

"And that's... you?" asked Cobalt, reaching out to the screen with a hoof, as though he could touch the picture within. I wasn't surprised; someone was going to do it anyway. He seemed a bit disappointed as the hooftip just touched plastic, rocking the screen slightly. "You look almost like a minotaur."

"Close relative, possibly," I explained, not getting distracted by the ramifications. "Or something. But yeah. That's what I used to look like." 'Damnit, that had been an awesome day, too. Good memories shouldn't hurt so much.' "And then... this." I gestured at myself with a hoof, letting out a winsome sigh. "Not much of a resemblance anymore, huh?"

"I don't know about that," noted Cobalt with a small chuckle. "That smile looks pretty familiar to me." I blinked in shock there, gazing at the image myself. I didn't see it, but... well, maybe it was still there. A part of my old self that I hadn't lost, despite everything.

It felt good.

---

"So!" I could have gone down memory lane for hours, but I decided to put that garden path on the sideline for now, or whatever metaphor you prefer to use. Instead, I clapped my hooves together, bringing everyone back to attention. "That's me, the dreaded vanguard of a hypothetical alien invasion, who has no clue how she got here, why she got here, or what she's going to do next."

"Nice try," drawled Crimson. 'Wait, what?' My puzzlement must have shown, because she expounded easily. "This explains a lot, and opens up a lot of questions. For example, if you arrived here from a different planet, how do you know about Equestria? If you were in a different body, how are you walking like you were born to it? How do you speak our language?" She frowned, and gestured at the keyboard. "And how does that have Equestrian on it?" 'Oh.'

"Good questions," I nodded. "Language first. I don't know. Something about the multiverse -- in every sense of that phrase -- conspired to bring me to a place with enough parallels to my home. Prance and France alone. Las Pegasus, Las Vegas. Canterlot, and..." Here I considered. "Well, Camelot, but is there a parallel to Albion?" At their headshakes, I continued on. "Vanhoofer, if that exists." Nods this time. "I'm going to put that all down to multiversal weirdness for now. Though we'll get back to that soon."

"And your knowledge of Equestria?"

"Small things first," I demurred. "Kind of small. The change from my other body to this one, I... have a few ideas. I'm pretty sure humans don't and/or can't exist in Equestria, something about the magic field? If so, then when I was transported here, then I assumed the shape which was the closest approximation to what I, myself, am. Or it's possible that if a sapient being shifted me around, then they had a sick sense of humour."

"Why not a minotaur, then? You don't look much like the person on that... thing, no matter how close your smile might be. Wouldn't it be easier to adapt to something like that?" Cobalt spoke this time, after taking a sip from his mug -- which he'd refilled after studiously wiping up the spilled drink.

"Laptop. It's called a laptop, and this," I gestured to the top part, "is called a screen. Probably because people used to project things onto screens, like in movie theaters." Cobalt gestured slightly with a wing for me to get on with it; gradually, the three were getting back to themselves, as opposed to the rather creepy 'professional mode' they started the conversation in.

"I don't have any proof of anything, but I think what happened is a little more... existential? Spiritual? Instead of physical. Like, more a changeling in mind and mannerism, or even in spirit, and that translated here?" I frowned, a lilt after each of those sentence fragments. "That mirror-matching thing, for example, or how I adapt," I added a bit more decisively. "Or it could have been some sick freak who thought it'd be funny to turn the introvert into something that subsists off emotions. Either way, my brain got rewired to fit."

I was being cagey again, and I was starting to hate myself for it, but there were some things I wasn't going to bring up. The mirror portal to the Equestria Girls universe, for example, was not something that I could possibly have known, and that would probably have gotten me locked away for observation for a good long while.

The three looked a bit disconcerted by my casual, even flippant attitude towards magical brain surgery, but I waved a hoof to the side, dismissively. "Look. If it hadn't happened, I'd be flopping about like a fish on dry land. Unable to speak, unable to walk, probably unable to even breathe. I won't look this gift h--" I cut myself off, with a coughing fit. 'Bad Jen. No cookie. THINK before you speak, please.' "Sorry," I added, taking a gulp of my water. "I'd be happier with an answer, but I won't stress over it right now, not just yet."

There was one of those lulls in the conversation, which I took as permission to refill my cup. Shamrock had taken my tablet, and was poking at the buttons on the sides - volume, power - very gingerly indeed, while Crimson was studying the picture still on display on the laptop, as though something were just barely escaping her. As I returned, though, it hit.

"So," the unicorn began, gesturing at the picture. "Roller coaster, it's an amusement park, we have them too. But all I see in the picture are these... monkeys. Is that normal?"

'Ah.' One of those big questions. "Y...es. 'Humans', by the way, please don't blame me for the name. Okay, remember, different worldline, different rules." As far as I knew, anyway. Shamrock looked like she was going to ask something, but let it go for now. In lieu, I rallied, taking a deep breath for what felt like the hundredth time today. "Back home, there, ah... weren't any pegasi, or unicorns. There were beings which were similar to earth ponies, in form, but they were non-sapient. No minotaurs, no dragons, no hydras, no diamond dogs... and no changelings. Just humans."

"Seven billion of them," muttered Crimson, and I nodded in agreement there. "You said your city was pretty cosmopolitan?"

"Yeah, but that's..." I frowned, then tapped my hoof on the table. "It has people from all over the world. All walks of life. Anyway... this ties back to that other question," I realized. "How do we know about all those? And not just the sapient races, but hydras, basilisks, cockatrices, all the beings of the Everfree and more. And then, how do I know about Canterlot, the princesses, even those minor things..."

This was going to be a tricky explanation, and my indecision must have showed, because the three shifted nervously in turn. Damn.

"Okay, metaphors. Or similes. Or something," I hedged. "Okay. So, first, we have absolutely no way of looking in on other worldlines... that we know about. I'm going to chalk many similarities up to the multiverse being just that huge. First, I want you to imagine a universe in which Daring Do is a real pony."

The three glancing between each other told me all I needed to know, and I barely resisted slamming my head into the table. "For the love of-- okay. OKAY. Okay." I think I felt a hair twitch loose, and sighed, trying to recollect myself. "Let us imagine a universe in which A.K. Yearling is not, in fact, an Agent of the Crown. She just writes about someone who is."

That revelation didn't spark any huge reaction, which showed me that the others were feeling almost as drained as I was. I was almost tempted to demand we take a break, but I decided to power through instead. Thankfully, a spark of realization I felt from Cobalt helped me rally.

"So, he's got the general picture," I ground out, gesturing to the pegasus, who seemed confused for a second. "In this alternate universe," I explained, "it's all fiction. Both universes are 'real', but one has a writer who somehow describes the other, purely by chance."

Crimson wasn't having it, and her frustration spiked as the penny dropped. "Yes," she began, more monotone than usual, "but the fact is, the odds are far higher that some agent is involved in the process. Natural or sapient, there was a link that led here."

I gave a somber nod. "What, or who, I don't care to guess. I'm not in the business of second-guessing the mental gymnastics of a being strong enough to yank someone between the worlds, especially as I don't know how much energy that would take, other than 'lots'. I do know, though, that if there is an active link between my world and this one, it's very limited, a pinhole rather than a window."

Crimson's left ear perked slightly, but that was the only physical result she gave beyond a slightly more intense stare. The others just looked at me questioningly, implying that they weren't quite following along. Still, the unicorn gave me my next line: "And just how do you know that?"

"There are..." I paused, scrabbling for words. "...enough similarities to get the 'big picture', but details are wrong. Part of that's for ease of illustration: stories, remember. Other things, well... it's more likely that someone only caught glimpses, enough to fill a few stories, as opposed to the stories of everyone. And there might have been some drift, some off-target assumptions. Plus, if anyone had seen an entire world, everything happening at once..." Bringing up Nightmare Moon seemed like a poor idea at this time, and the nod from the others showed me that I'd made the right decision.

"So little things not adding up. Like what?" Scratch that. I'd made the wrong decision, and Shamrock's innocent question managed to deflate that balloon. At least I could recover. I sighed, then took a sip of my water.

"I... don't have enough information yet to really say, but those nagging feelings keep happening," I hedged. "Like a certain pattern of shadows not existing on the moon."

"Oh, that?" Shamrock perked up a bit. "The Mare in the Moon only appears around the solstices and the equinoxes. One of the Princess' habits, I think."

'Wut.'

"Y... es. Let's call that a habit." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and all three perked up.

"What aren't you telling us?" asked Cobalt, suddenly sharp once more. I couldn't easily help it: I flinched, and everybody picked up on that.

Best way to counter that? Stall. "Nnnnothing immediately relevant. Trust me, it will give you headaches and won't solve anything."

Surprisingly, it was Crimson who simply nodded there, letting it go and bringing back her previous question. "So what did this 'pinhole' focus on, then?"

Here, I was happy to get back to stable ground. Cobalt and Shamrock were less focused, but for the moment I let them stew. "The lives of six civilians," I explained, "from various walks of life, their friendship, and how it was tested. The Princess didn't feature that heavily therein, but she came up often enough." There. Perfectly accurate. The fact that it also - at least in part - described the old show 'Friends' didn't bear thinking on.

"Uh-huh," muttered Shamrock. I could tell she was already exhausted by this little Q&A -- hell, all of us were -- so I decided to take things on a different tack.

"We need a break."

---

Water might have been simple stuff, but constantly draining cups certainly made one piss like a ra--yeah, let's not go there. Come to think, I wasn't going to think about those... biological necessities... until I absolutely had to. What worked, worked. That's all I'll say.

"So, magic," I started off as we all took our seats once more, having stretched, taken a breath of fresh air, and, by unspoken agreement, not said a word to one another during the break. None of us had grabbed a bite to eat, as it was barely an hour and a half past when we'd trudged in from lunch... and I'll admit, I was feeling full on a few different levels there.

"Magic it is, then," snapped Crimson, suddenly upright. "We'll leave off on the oath thing... though we'll come back to that later. What about those other two spells you cast?"

I blinked, before memory came rushing back and smacking me upside the brainstem. "Oh, those two spells!" I shook my head, recalling the whole event with a broken window, a bit of fog, and two pebbles. "Okay, those... I'll admit, I don't even know." With that, I tossed my left hoof lightly down, showing off those twelve gems in their neat little array. "These things are responsible for that, I think they're guided by will, and that's literally all I know. Oh, and that they're part and parcel of whatever brought me here."

I waved that hoof for effect. "No magic back home, right? No freaky elements, or aspects, or artifacts, or the sort, and I'll bet my left ear that these aren't technology." That neat little black wrapping, on the other hand... I wasn't going to draw attention to again. "I don't even know if those were spells, so much as..." Here I coughed, trailing off, before muttering, "Some sort of sorcery or something. I'm just glad they didn't do much. And before you ask," I snapped upright, giving them all a look. "I'm not going to be going about the business of testing these little baubles for whatever reason, without proper supervision and a field free of potential collateral."

The three relaxed then, albeit minutely, and I thought I saw the hint of a smirk cross Crimson's muzzle. "That's good to know," she drawled. "So we'll be scheduling a trip to Canterlot, then?"

Some days, I really need to think before opening my big mouth. I don't know if they saw any of my flinch -- no, scratch that, they definitely did -- but my hesitation spoke for itself. Cobalt, in particular, gave me a calculating look; rather off-putting on a cute face like his. "Gem, why don't you want to go there?"

With a sigh, I crossed my hooves, letting my chin fall upon my forelegs. I shifted nervously, then groaned, "My mind is running through the million and a half excuses right now. None of them would hold much water, all things considered." I brought one hoof up, circling it through the air. "Fear of change, fear of imprisonment, fear of crowds, fear of the Princess..." I scoffed, shaking my head. "That one I like the most. Barring some outrageous lese majeste, I'm probably inflating these possibilities beyond any sense of reason."

The three looked kind of like I'd hit them with an inflatable frying pan, and weren't quite sure how to respond. Finally, Cobalt let out a snort. "We've met the Princess, you know. It's part of the whole Wild Guard thing. Perks of the office: sign up for duty patrolling hazardous regions and reporting back, meet high-profile celebrities, ambassadors here and there, the occasional alien."

I couldn't help a few barks of laughter escaping at that. "Okay, okay. Plus, there's the whole 'oh, will my worst fears come true, it's better to sit here and do nothing' bit. You guys know that one."

All three of them gave a nod at that, reminiscing about some choice they'd made - or hadn't made - in the past.

With a drawn-out groan, I drew myself back upright. "Okay. So, what else is there to know? I mean, we've gone over who I am, where I came from, and what I've been. You guys know that I don't really have a plan for going out there, beyond 'find something to do'." I waved a hoof in circles for a second - my right one. "Changelings are ostensibly shapeshifters nonpareil, but I have no clue how to do that yet. I've figured out a bit of magic, simple telekinesis, and I do intend to learn more. And I do have a scheduled appointment with a shrink." Strangely, I did. It was two days' hence, but it was there. "And that's it."

Shamrock nodded, then reached over and poked at the laptop's screen, thankfully quite lightly. "Well, I think the only thing we need to know is what's in this thing, after all?"

"In basic terms?" I chuckled. "A couple of movies, a lot of pictures, some books, a game or three. An encyclopedia, as well." I would have hidden that, but it'd come to light eventually. Everything would, and I was now feeling a lot more resigned than before. "It's kind of archived on there, but I can pull it out eventually. Aside from that, there are some programs that won't work without a connection to other computers, an--" I paused, an ear flicking as I felt a sense of urgency radiating from the door, a moment before the knock came. How convenient! Right when we were about to get into fun things...

Shamrock was the one to answer, revealing a beleaguered pegasus guardspony in what I assumed as the standard outfit - a lanyard and light barding, in other words. She spoke a few quick words under her breath, gesturing to me, to which the Earth pony nodded and turned to the room. Thankfully, she looked amused more than anything. "Hey, Divide. You aren't suddenly a master of curses, hexes, and dark magic, are you? Or have a twin that looks exactly like you?"

I caught the general gist immediately, and hummed introspectively, bringing a hoof to tap the side of my chin, my gaze fixed at the ceiling. With a lilt, I mused, "well, I won't deny that I dabbled in the black-candle-and-cloak scene in my wayward youth, but that was mostly childish flights of fancy... I can't deny the possibility of a twin, separated at birth, though!" With that, I turned my attention back downwards to the very amused three, and the somewhat bemused pegasus. "So, no. Is this about a certain confectioner?"

"Good guess," drawled Shamrock, as the three of us removed ourselves from our seats -- though I took the opportunity to close the laptop's lid and ensure that the phone and tablet were at least in sleep mode. With nary another word, the four of us shuffled out of the room, Crimson locking it up with her keys and flicking a card on the doorknob back to 'in use'.

---

I'll admit, the tinge of curiosity provided by a good bit of street theater is quite a snack. This is more so when everyone in the room is trying to get on with their day, but can't help but wonder exactly what's going to happen next. Such was the atmosphere in the station downstairs, and it was a bit rejuvenating, moreso when everyone's attention focused on me.

The flame of rage coming from one particular Earth pony, on the other hand, was a little bit distracting.

"YOU!" Such was the first word out of the mouth of a rather bedraggled-looking Chiffon Swirl, who looked like she was about to haul off and punch me through a wall.

Oh, the openings. And who, really, would I be if, after the day I'd had, I didn't make an already amusing situation worse? So I turned my focus over to Crimson, and deadpanned, "Wow. Clichés do happen in real life. Who knew?"

Chiffon looked -- and felt -- like she was barely holding herself back from lunging at me, though the movement of the officers in the room very carefully solidified into a state of readiness, annoyance and amusement resounding in equal measure. Everybody loves to watch a smartass... until they're drawn into the whole situation, at which point it just becomes obnoxious. So, I relented, and affixed the mare with a steady gaze instead. "Okay, what's this all about, now?"

"You CURSED ME!" she snarled, lips drawn back and ears pinned to that curly mane of hers. Okay, I'll admit, the flecks of spittle on her lips were a little bit disturbing, and I found myself taking a step back. Not a good position of strength, to say the least. Still, I rallied, bringing myself back to a neutral expression... and raising an eyebrow. If that impacted her at all, she didn't show it, instead continuing onwards. "Ever since you left, everything's been going wrong! The lunch rush was a trickle! My ovens overheated or underheated! My souffles, every one of them fell! And it's all YOUR fault!"

Oh wow. Okay. "I was not expecting things to happen that fast," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for Crimson to fix me with a look of absolute disbelief.

"WHAT did you just say?!" demanded the irate mare in front of me, stomping forwards and practically spitting in my face. In fact, when I drew my fet against my face... yup, that was some saliva.

Okay, that was it.

"I did nothing to you," I informed the mare before me in my coldest tones, my muscles locking to turn me almost statuesque -- in a mechanical sense, not a charismatic one. "How am I to have cursed you? To cast a jinx, or a hex, or a spell upon you? In what way have I caused you any harm?"

"All this happened after you left! None of it happened before! Everypony knows that changelings are evil! That you'll curse anypony at a whim! You're going to get RID of it!" Okay, she was really riled up. In fact, I wasn't sure I could even defuse the situation.

Thankfully, I didn't have to: Crimson stepped up, her horn aglow. "Alright, step back," she ordered in such a tone that both Chiffon Swirl and I took two steps back. Well, it took me a second for my muscles to unclench and let me do so, but I still followed suit. With an approving nod, the unicorn followed up. "First off, we're going to do this like adults. You, you, sit down." My rump hit the floor obediently, though this time it took Chiffon a few seconds to respond appropriately. "Now. Let's deal with the facts. You," she gestured to the nearly-vibrating mare, "say that this mare cursed you." There was a similar gesture in my direction.

"Yes," was the reply in a voice so coarse that it could have jammed a spice grinder.

"How?"

Chiffon sniffed, dismissively, at what she likely felt was a stupid question. "How am I supposed to know? I'm an Earth pony. We don't do magic."

I was suddenly struck by a coughing fit, as a bit of saliva went down the wrong pipe. Absolutely innocent, I promise! But it was enough to turn everyone's attention to me, even as I waved a hoof and got myself under control.

"...right," Crimson said after a second. "Then would you accept the input of a unicorn, someone who does do magic, in determining whether or not you're cursed, as you say?"

"So long as it's not you," sneered Chiffon. "It's already gotten to you."

I think everything stopped at that moment. Breath, the rustle of paperwork, the regular hoofsteps. Everything just... came to a halt, and the clock ticked down a full fifteen seconds before Chiffon realized what was going on, realized that everybody was staring at her.

"What?"

Then the shouting started. That was decidedly less pleasant than the curiosity.

---

By the time everything came down to a dull roar, I had learned a few important things.

First, everybody in the Guard undergoes a regular course, meant to short-circuit any attempts at potential mind control. This is doubled for the Wild Guard, who are stationed in areas where, to borrow a phrase, 'Weird Things Happen'. It is not strictly public knowledge, but anyone with the desire to learn that fact can do so, by the convoluted and difficult process of 'asking'. (As a codicil, I made a note to myself to audit a course and see if I could spot any loopholes. There were probably a few.) These courses aren't particularly enjoyable, and walking into a police station and suggesting that they're worthless is a fine way to lose what little credibility you have.

Second, a department full of people whose entire purpose revolves around the sharing and confirmation of information? It turns out that they tend to gossip. A lot. And that little incident from earlier was plenty enough for the gossip train to start rolling. The fact that these were police officers didn't make the game of Telephone any less interesting: in fact, half of them had likely heard that I'd been physically chased from the premises, covered in cupcake batter.

Third, when officers are accused, with any legitimacy, of being under the influence of mind control, they are suspended -- with pay, because Equestria is reasonable in at least a few ways -- until a scan can be done. The questions asked went somewhere along these lines:

"And what makes you think that these three are mind-controlled?"

"They went into the Everfree, and now they willingly spend time with that thing."

Yeah, the pointed racism was starting to be less piercing and more grating. I think it was the shock the first time it happened that drove me out, but now that it was happening over and over again, I was swiftly becoming inured. More to the point, I was growing disappointed.

That having been said, there were enough statements along those lines to establish reasonable doubt. I'll admit, freely, that it did look just a little suspicious that here I was, palling things up with the Wild Guard. But then, if they usually had to deal with things like rampaging hydras, bunny stampedes, wild manticores... not exactly the greatest conversationalists, those. And someone weird like me just had to be more interesting than the usual fare. So that was a perfectly rational explanation, instead of discarding with Occam's razor.

Speaking of, as one of the last questions was asked of Chiffon Swirl, I cut in. "Pardon, but do you even have Occam's Razor here?"

Everyone looked at me like I was a bit crazy, and Chiffon seemed like she was going to cut in with something, but I shook my head. "Might be called something different," I corrected myself, and quoted, "All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the most likely one."

There was a general noise of understanding from that, and Shamrock pointed out, "Dunno who Occam was, but I think Aristrotle was the first to put that one forth. That was after the Discordian era, though." Most everyone nodded there, and I let out a sigh of relief, not to mention a shiver at my own stupidity. Of course they'd have some formulation of the famous quote when the police were involved.

"Why do you ask, though?" asked one of the other officers, a burnished-copper Lieutenant whose name I hadn't quite gotten. She'd been shooting brief glares at Chiffon with every little dig, and evidently wanted to turn the discourse to more reasonable matters.

I gave a shrug in response. "Just wondering if the idea of mind control is even worth consideration in comparison to the idea that maybe I'm more interesting than manticore droppings."

There was a general bit of laughter there, and one scoff, but the Lieutenant shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, it's de rigeur for any cases of this nature. You are a changeling, changelings do have potential mind control abilities, therefore we've gotta get these preliminaries out of the way and get a specialist in from Canterlot."

Well, if there was no hope to be had, then that's all there was to it. I gave her a thankful nod, then posed the question delicately, "Will I need to be here for a comparison of any sort? Detained or otherwise?" I didn't exactly have a lot to do, but I had been somewhat hoping to get the bearings of the town a bit better, maybe solve some minor mysteries which had lodged themselves in my brain.

"Not exactly. You'll probably be asked a few more questions, but the biggest thing we do in that case is a full purge." She gestured at the Wild Guard, who looked more resigned than anything. "If we do find anything, then you'll be detained, but..." Here she shot a glare towards the acidulous Earth pony. "I don't think that should be a concern. Are you all right, though?"

I admittedly felt, and probably looked, more than a bit green. I'd seen the effects of magic depletion in the show, sure, but the idea of that happening to some folks I knew... "It's... fine. The idea of a purge just doesn't sit well with me."

"Hah. More proof that it's guilty of everyth--" That was it. That was all. I cut her off with a glare, and very carefully stayed exactly where I was. Moving would have shown intent. Lighting my horn would have shown intent. I decidedly did neither, and instead locked my gaze on hers.

"Miss Swirl," I began, my voice taut as a drum. "Were I the monster you claimed me to be, the vile beast that you scream about from the rooftops, I would have a wide variety of options open to me. An array of possibilities, in fact, so profound that you would never, ever dare think about the exploration thereof. I could destroy you and yours in a million different ways, and nobody would ever know -- if I were a monster. I could send you to a lunatic asylum, or drive you howling into the wilderness, or simply break you... if I were a monster. There would be nowhere in the world where you would be safe from my vengeance... if I were, as you so demand, a monster."

I gave another smile, through tight lips, barely showing any teeth at all. "The fact that you are here, and that you are insulting me in a million different ways, shows that you don't believe I am. If you thought for one fraction of a second that I was capable of doing those, then you wouldn't be here, pushing my buttons, trying to get me to slip up and say something objectionable. And fortunately for all of us, you're entirely correct on that point."

There was a small release of breath around the room as I started to relax, fractionally, and from the emotions I was feeling, there was a distinct sense of 'stepping down'. That didn't exactly feel good, but I had to admit, it was exactly how I'd feel under those circumstances. At the moment, though, I still had that dynamo humming away within me, and I very slowly drew a hooftip across the floor. "So. Would you like to have a discussion as calm, rational adults, or would you like to continue trying to turn me into a monster?"

And I wanted nothing more than for that to be the long and the short of it. I really did. But Chiffon Swirl, who had tromped into the guard's HQ, who had immediately insisted that I be arrested, wasn't quite done. Her eyes wide, her breath coming in tight gasps, she broke eye contact with me and started looking wildly around the room. "Wh... why aren't you doing anything? It threatened me just now! You heard all of it! It said that it'd send me to the asylum!"

Okay, this was bad. Her emotions were running out of control, fluctuating like a wonky gyroscope. I couldn't help but take a step back, but that wasn't enough for her -- she started to rear, looking around at the ponies in the room, staring at each in turn as though they were all out to get her, all laughing and jeering. None of them were, and a private near the door shouted, "Call the docs, code 8!" to a pair of runners I'd seen earlier. Everybody else was stock-still, and as Swirl's hyperventilation grew to a fevered pitch, so too did her rantings.

"It's... it's gotten its hooves on all of you, you're all under its control, none of you, I can't believe, how did," she started, her eyes rolling around the room as of their own accord. The Lieutenant finally stepped forward, her Earth Pony muscles visibly bulging under the jacket, and she started to gradually make an approach to the more pudgy baker. Still, that wasn't quite fast enough, and Swirl tried to make a run - bounced off one wall, then another, as ponies all around her tried to get out of her way.

Earth Pony constitution warred with her hyperventilation, and with her spiraling emotions, and I knew what was about to happen barely a moment before it did -- as I clapped my hooves over my ears, she let out a steam-whistle shriek which resonated off the poured-concrete walls, and collapsed into a limp, boneless heap.

---

"So, how much of that did you plan?"

Crimson's question was met with a glare of my own, but it was half-hearted. I just shook my head in response, nursing the cup of industrial-strength coffee between my hooves. The cream was a little off, but I didn't care; it was more the familiarity of the drink that helped than anything resembling flavour.

"None of it. My statement from earlier... that one you caught?" Crimson nodded, though the others looked uncertain. We'd found ourselves outside, resting in the cooler air now that it was about 5 PM. "I'd thought guilt was going to be the biggest cause of her grief. That, and small-town social pressures, and the like. You see it a lot back home. Racist decides to say, do, something objectionable. It gets out, people decide that it's not the sort of thing they want to be associated with. Problem corrects itself."

A collective 'mm' of understanding went up. We'd been joined by two other officers who decided that relaxing in the plush grass was a good choice. One was the lieutenant, Burnished Badge, who'd figured that after having a troublesome citizen go plumb loco, she needed a freakin' break. Probably a drink, too. Her stainless-steel eyes looked a bit unfocused as she went through the mental ramifications, and the paperwork.

The other was the force's on-call psychologist, Dr. Veritas, who had actually gotten a referral from the hospital. I was due to meet him later on in the week, but circumstances simply dictated we meet now. His bubblegum-pink hair and lavender coat made him something of a girlish sight, but colours weren't really that big a deal in Equestria, and I just let it blend with the rest of the insanity. There'd been altogether too much of that today anyway.

From the moment Chiffon collapsed, everything had sprung back into action like a well-oiled machine. Two orderlies from the hospital arrived, as well as the doctor; with a lack of injuries, they simply strapped the mare onto a gurney and brought her to the hospital. I didn't pry, but I had a sick feeling that this wasn't the first time they'd seen her. Or the second.

The argument that the Wild Guard needed a purge did pass muster, and so that had been set up as well, for two days' hence. It was just those three, though: there were other officers who did patrol the Everfree now and then, and so the team wouldn't be totally short-staffed. I would've been offended, but it really was de rigeur. In the meantime, though, I wasn't being sequestered away or anything, nor was the purge being extended to everyone I'd had contact with. Bureaucrats hate complications, and I'd just be one more snarl in a Gordian knot of royal proportions.

"I really am sorry about the whole need-for-a-purge thing. Had I known... well... You going to be bored over the next few days?" I looked over at Cobalt, Crimson and Shamrock, who all gave a light wave of their hooves. It really was a resigned emotion coming from them, and they all demurred.

A thought struck me all of a sudden, and I turned my attention to Veritas. "Stupid question. You've got an appointment with me in the afternoon, but that's the same day as the, egh, purge. Is that going to clash?"

He looked a bit surprised, then shook his head. "No, that shouldn't cause any issues. I'm surprised you caught that, though. Have you had experience with this kind of practice before?"

"I've spoken with a few psychologists before. Aside from that..." The Wild Guard chimed in, and we all spoke in unison, "[I read]/[She reads] a lot." We all shared a bit of a laugh, before I turned a bit more serious. "Hey, I know that professional privilege means you can't say much here. But..." I frowned, and dragged my hoof over the grass. "That reaction of hers. All her reactions to me. None of them were rational, or even close to. There was a lot of hate, and fear, and ... especially uncertainty. She was stressed as hell. And most ponies don't seem to have that reaction."

The doctor waved one hoof in turn. "A lot of ponies would, if you weren't in the company of these reprobates." He gestured at the three, who gave a collective snort. "They make things just normal enough. But you're right, that was beyond the pale. Most of us would simply hide from the unfamiliar and strange. She went out of her way to attack you, and..." He shook his head. "I can't comment, like you said." But I didn't have to belabor the point to hear the worry in his voice, or feel it in his own emotions.

---

"So, what now?"

An hour had passed as we shot the bull, and the sun was gradually making its way downhill. I, for my part, was stuffed still from the lunch earlier; I suppose one of the advantages of subsisting partially off magic was that I didn't need to eat that much physical food. Positives and negatives, but at least, unlike Celestia, I'd never be accused of eating my own weight in cloud cake.

The Lieutenant and the Doctor had both taken off on their own tasks, the former to finish up a bit of the ever-present pile of paperwork, the latter to get home and meet with his wife and kids. So, the four of us were just lounging around outside the police station, waiting for something to happen. Hence, Shamrock's query.

"Well, now that we've had a bit to digest," I offered, "I could get my stuff from inside. I think I was going to show you folks one or two examples of what those can do." If nothing else, it'd be a nice distraction, and it certainly wasn't official business with me.

"Say, yeah. You got anything romantic on there?" asked Cobalt, to a grin from Shamrock and a shake of Crimson's head. And with a set-up line like that, well... my mind went immediately to one of my favourites of all time.

"Are you kidding? I have everything on there. 'Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles...'" A quote like that sticks in the mind, and I asked in turn, "Anywhere we can get popcorn?"

"Yeah, but it's all going to be human stuff, isn't it?" asked Shamrock. "It's just that, well..."

"Oh, ye of little faith..."

Author's Note:

Writer's block sucks. That's all I have to say about the delay. On the other hand, it gave me plenty of time and opportunities to revise. From here, things may be a bit more laid back for a couple chapters, so hopefully won't take as long.

Comments

[tkepner]

8957484
Ah. I was thinking, confusedly, that you meant the Pegs raided the insect ponies' hives for honey. Didn't make sense at all.

[Goy]

Amazing stuff! Love it so far, 8 chapters in.

[Zapper Frost]

And now I wait for the story to continue

[FidgetZorua]

"Are you kidding? I have everything on there. 'Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles...'" A quote like that sticks in the mind, and I asked in turn, "Anywhere we can get popcorn?"

I thought that quote looked familiar. It's from the Princess Bride when the grandfather was describing what was in the book