Chapter 02
The User Manual was creatively entitled:
‘My Little Pony’ © Hasbro.
Sapient Educable Synthet model OBE 01106-18-49
‘Lyra Heartstrings’, unicorn mare, mature.
Behavioral software version EQ 3.4.1
Well, Vic thought, it’s relatively understandable. “Sapient educable” meant the synthet could perceive information from the outside world, store and process it beside the base behavioral program, and talk. “Mature” meant the synthet had already passed its infancy and period of growth.
OBE meant “Owens’ Biosynthetic Engineering”, the company everyone associated with bioengineering itself. The company that had recreated “Hasbro” and many other remnants of the past as IP-holding subdivisions.
The numbers probably meant something too, but Vic, like every end user, ignored them completely.
The “EQ” index in the version of the program meant the pony would consider itself an Equestria-born that came to Earth. Bronies usually bought “Equestrian” ponies: Vic was told it was more interesting and entertaining that way. Somewhere in the User Manual were the approved “explanations” why ponies on Earth have “twins”. Actually, there was a whole chapter containing the standard answers to the common pony questions helped to prevent glitches in synthets’ behavioral software.
At first, when a “Hasbro Synthets” catalogue fell into Victor Stewart’s hands, he decided to buy a character from the “My Little Pony” TV show, which among the others found a second life and a fandom after a century of oblivion.
The timid Fluttershy was Vic’s initial choice, but then he realized almost every other brony owned at least one of the Mane Six. Or even a few ponies of the same type, ignoring “Hasbro’s” warnings about possible behavioral software crashes.
Such a common choice of a pony felt too trivial to Vic.
“Rainbow Dash” had held its position as the best selling model for years, almost since the rebranding day of the show. It seemed everyone who purchased an azure pegasus believed her presence in their house would make them twenty percent cooler. However, more often than not, they requested to replace her standard behavioral program with a submissive and gutless one. No one likes to be mocked by a synthet, and the athletic pegasus was known to possess a headstrong temper and a sharp tongue.
No one seemed to mind that the modifications were turning a lively and active creature into a shadow of herself, eventually making her waste away inside the colorful shell of her degrading body. Of course, nothing should hamper the whims of the customers!
Vic wasn’t ready to switch to the active lifestyle in order not to turn into a “lame nerd” or a “slowpoke” in Rainbow’s eyes. Besides that, his apartment was relatively small, and pegasi require space to fly. That was, by the way, another reason against a Fluttershy, if a rather strained one.
On the other hand, Victor didn’t wish to purchase an unfamiliar pony. Who in Celestia’s name are Scrappy Rag, Fluffle Puff, DoubleWSisters, Erin ‘Sunflower’ Olsen or Blackjack? he thought, turning the pages of the catalogue. While he’d heard the names of Littlepip and Snowdrop, others were completely unfamiliar.
And alicorns were expensive enough to make his hair stand on end. One could buy a decent hovercar with that tot, for crying out loud!
But the marketing move did allow “Hasbro” to kill two birds with one stone: the high prices allowed for improved abilities more similar to the original characters’ and kept the alicorn population limited and exclusive.
A few months had passed since Vic had followed the advice of Steven Aguilar. That day, full of doubt and irony, he found a virtual site with ancient 2D-cartoons, chose the right one… and resurfaced twelve hours later.
He watched the old episodes, and then he watched the new ones. With a rising sense of wonder he found an inexplicable delight in that strange cartoon. Then, as if some puzzle piece slipped in its place and finalized the picture, Victor realized he had discovered a whole new world: bright and full of joy and kindness.
And then there was the fandom and fanfiction. The old recognized creations, borderline classics, silently approved by Hasbro itself, and the new ones, which recently emerged in the Cyberspace of Gigapolis. Beautiful and inspiring, or sad and heartbreaking, or disgusting and gut-wrenching. Once again Victor was astonished by his sympathy with the characters, be it sincere happiness or deep sadness about their destinies.
Naturally, Vic couldn’t read everything. But even what he familiarized himself with was enough to form his opinion about ponies and their relations with humans in the real world. One day Victor understood he could no longer consider himself outside the brony community. And so he made up his mind.
Although Vic adored the yellow pegasus for her calm demeanor and a solitary disposition, soon he came across a more exquisite choice.
Lyra Heartstrings was considered an unsuccessful model. Her behavioral program probably contained some undetected bug. Lyra had an unhealthy adoration towards humans, bordering on worship, which for unknown reasons often led to disappointment. This pony was prone to depression, loss of will to live and – an unthinkable situation for a normal synthet – suicidal tendencies. As a result, Lyras’ owners often asked for refunds or simply abandoned their synthets, some even disposing of them with the most radical of methods.
Hasbro’s top managers declared Lyra’s behavioral program, developed following the fandom’s wishes, an unfixable one. The model was unpopular, unprofitable and barely recouped its costs. Her software had been frozen at its third version, while Mane Six models already operated on their eighth. In the modern Gigapoleis the law of the market was the ultimate law.
With the mint-colored pony in short demand, her name was placed at the end of the catalogue… and she was a third of the price of the top-selling Rainbow Dash or the runner-up Fluttershy. And so, a week after the order was placed, a big brightly colored box with a Hasbro logo appeared at Victor’s apartment.
The package held a special container, where in a state of deep hibernation lay the little pony, dreaming calmly – alive and real. Not a doll or a robot, but flesh and blood, a mercurial mind. And a soul, the existence of which would be rejected by any religion, but so obvious to any brony.
Having removed the packaging and the shockproof casing, Vic spent some time eyeing the container, where, as if in a crystal egg, the pony snuggled. Her sides were slowly rising and falling, her huge eyes were closed, and her muzzle wore an expression of calm serenity. Her mane and tail were braided in tricky knots and held by soft bands so that they didn’t hinder the awakening process. Three tubes led from the transparent breathing mask to the recirculation module.
In such an anabiotic state, with all biological processes slowed down, a synthet could sleep for years.
Do ponies dream of magic lands? Victor thought. I think they do. They probably see their foalhood in Equestria, remember growing up with their friends, and recall their journey to the alien world. As for me, I would never leave Equestria voluntarily. Do ponies miss home, or do they, perhaps, accept their destiny? Maybe they just forget about Equestria eventually? I should probably ask Lyra when she wakes up.
Sometimes awakening is the first step into a nightmare for a pony. The things some… people (including bronies)… enjoy doing to synthets cannot be described otherwise.
Looking at her cute face, her amusingly sticking ears, her smooth mint-green fur and neat miniature horn, Victor pondered what kind of a person could be cruel and heartless enough to harm such creature: put it on a chain, clobber and torture it and… more. And then record everything and upload it to the Net to boot.
Every time a new synthet is awakened, Victor thought, the gods toss a coin in the air, but no one holds their breath to see how it will land. Will a new pony meet a caring and true friend, or will they be welcomed into a living hell?
As it was stated in the User Manual, if a pony was being awakened at home, the whole process should have taken place in a clean bathtub. A liquid oxygen-enriched nutrient inside the special container must be drained and the pony should be carefully washed with a supplied shampoo to remove the chemical smell. The washing process also allows the user to establish a “primary emotional bond” between the synthet and the master. Huh.
Vic carried the heavy container to the bathroom and rechecked the manual. Remote control in the package? Ah yes. Though technically every synthet was supposed to follow verbal commands, in case of emergencies there was a remote control with a built-in diagnostics unit and a short-range tracking device.
Note to self: do not forget to pre-pay the long-range tracking, Vic thought while entering and confirming the activation code.
A straight cut split the surface of the container. Liquid poured down into the bathtub, filling the room with a pungent medicinal smell. Vic waited patiently. No rush, pal. You’re on vacation, and the day is young.
As the container emptied, its transparent shell became mushy, then sagged into a jelly-like puddle and slowly drained following the nutrient. Vic rechecked the manual and removed the breathing mask from the pony’s muzzle.
The pony’s eyelashes fluttered slightly: she was about to wake up. The breathing mask was slowly decomposing into something that resembled a squished jellyfish, and Vic hastily tried to scrape the remains of the mask from the pony’s face. From a light touch of his fingers, the huge yellow eyes opened, and the first thing the little pony saw in her life was a human’s face breaking into a wide happy smile.
She tried to say something, but started coughing up the remains of the nutrient, flowing out of her expanding lungs. Vic wanted to pat her on the back but stopped himself as it was not recommended by the manual.
As soon as Lyra cleared her airways, she reached out with her forelegs and tenaciously caught Vic’s arm. Her hooves felt very soft.
Ah, Vic thought, amazed. Does she have suction cups on her hooves or something?
“Oh, Celestia, a human!” the unicorn wheezed, burying her face in Vic’s arms. “With ha-ands!”
“Do you feel well? Does anything hurt?” he asked as calmly as possible, barely stifling a laugh growing inside.
She stared at the man with those enormous yellow eyes of hers.
"No… Nothing hurts, no” she said, then cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly. “Everything feels funny, though. And my throat is raspy. And for some reason I’m covered in muck.”
Her voice was somewhat husky but sounded exactly like in the TV show. When did people hear her voice for the first time? Victor thought. More than hundred years ago. And she still sounds like a young girl.
“It will pass,” he said softly, trying to release his hand from Lyra’s grip. “I’m going to give you a bath now, then we’ll eat and you’ll certainly feel much better.”
“Ri-ight, I’m dreaming,” the unicorn said and made a failing attempt to rise on her legs. “There’s a living, tangible human that somehow wants to wash me and feed me. Yep, I’m dreaming, right?”
“No, you’re not. Quite the contrary, you woke up!” Vic said and grabbed the pony by her sides, helping her rise.
“That tickles!” Lyra squealed nervously and shook her legs. Her hooves rattled against the bottom of bathtub.
“Actually, I’m a grown-up mare and I can definitely bathe on my own,” she said, “but I’m very tempted to put myself in a human’s hands. It’s like a free visit to the human spa.”
“It will be my pleasure to assist you, Lyra,” Victor said reassuringly and turned on the shower. “Please tell me when the water reaches a comfortable temperature.”
“O-okay. But how do you know my name?”
“That’s a long story. Let’s finish giving you a shower first, and then I’ll tell you. Or, rather, show you.”
“That would be great. But can I ask you at least one question right now?” Lyra asked carefully.
“Of course.”
“Well…” Lyra took a breath. “Then what the hay am I doing in a bathtub covered in goo inside and out?!"
Vic blinked.
“Side effects of the transfer!” he pattered. Yeah, transfer alright, from the store to the buyer.
The mare nodded contentedly and straightened up.
“Good… that’s… good. Both the transfer’s success and the water temperature,” she said, shooting Victor a glance. He moved his hand away from the temperature controller.
What thoughts are passing through that cute head? he asked himself.
“What’s your name?” the unicorn asked.
"Victor Stewart. But you can call me Vic.”
“Deal.”
The supplied “Lyra shampoo” smelled like mint. Vic untied the ribbons around the unicorn’s mane, and wet green strands with white streaks fell on her neck and back.
Hasbro produced a lot of synthet-care products. Synthets are living beings with their own hygiene, nourishment and handling needs, after all. Victor picked up a special brush but could not resist the urge to timidly run his bare hand through the lathery pony fur. Lyra gave him a joyful squint; it seemed she enjoyed the touch.
“Tee-hee, fingers…” she whispered, and her tail suddenly wagged from side to side, spraying water and suds around.
Victor staggered and tried to wipe the lather from his face.
“Whoopsy daisy! That was an accident!” Lyra stuttered, blushing fiercely.
Is her blush visible through the fur, or is fur itself reddening? Vic thought, rubbing his eyes.
“Oh, that’s alright", Vic said. He thought about the synthet activation procedure described in the User Manual and asked, “Tell me please, what do you remember about the time before the… transfer?”
The pony thought for a moment, her eyes raised, as if could read the answer from the ceiling.
“Well, I guess I didn’t lose any memories, if that’s your concern,” she said at last. “I was born, grew up and studied in Canterlot. Moved to Ponyville after graduation. There I met Bon Bon and we lived together for a while. My hobby was ancient history and mythology, and my studies led me to the discovery of humanmankind…”
“The correct pronunciation would be mankind,” Victor corrected automatically. “Oh, sorry, please continue.”
"Yes, right, thank you. My studies led me to the discovery of human civilization in Equestria’s past and I asked Princess Celestia to clarify the matter. She told me that humans were extinct in Equestria but they inhabited another world, almost devoid of magic, where their population was enormous and technologies were highly developed.”
“And?”
“And of course I asked the Princess to send me there. She tried to dissuade me at first, but then she agreed on one condition: I was to leave my clone in Equestria. I visited the Mirror Pool and then the Princess sent me here with her magic. I remember water and darkness. I swam through it. And then I woke up in your bathtub.”
The man beamed. He decided it was time to give Lyra the next prescribed message.
“There are many Equestrian ponies living in our world,” he said, “so don't be shocked by that. The Princess sent your clones here before, and many other ponies’ too.”
“Really?” asked Lyra in astonishment. “Wow… Now I see. That’s why there was a well-trodden path to the Mirror Pool! Silly me, I was worried I’d be alone here.”
Hats off to Hasbro, the story with that lake was quite ingenious, Vic thought. And surely there are logical chains and safety protocols implanted into a pony’s mind for such cases that will make it ignore any discrepancies.
“Now close your eyes and I’ll wash your head,” he said aloud, and the mare gently dropped her eyelids.
When he lathered her mane and ears, Lyra smiled. “Could you wash here a bit more? Yes, right there! It feels sooo good!”
“Oh, of course!” Victor replied. Stroking the pony, burying his fingers into her silky mane, scratching her behind her ears, turned out to be a very pleasant experience. It’s like stroking a cat. No, like stroking hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of cats! Victor thought.
When Victor reached her horn, Lyra suddenly gasped, and for a second a radiant flash of green light filled the bathroom.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, blushing wildly, her eyes squinted. “Don't touch me there!”
The green light around her horn faded and the mare shuffled her hooves nervously.
Damn, I forgot! There is a sensitive spot near the base of the horn! he thought belatedly.
Naturally, all synthets were living creatures with the flaws and needs of all living creatures, even if “Hasbro” had no wish to deal with litigations from customers sexually harassed by technicolor toy ponies.
So, every synthet’s behavioral program contained the so-called “stop-script”. Well, maybe not Princess Molestia’s program, or some other programs, designed for synthets with highly specific purposes, but every standard program issue anyway.
The User Manual stated that any synthet would not willfully develop an attraction to a human beyond the limits of normal friendship.
The manufacturer warned that the owner’s attempts to bypass the stop-script by force could lead to irreparable damage to the synthet’s behavioral program. Sometimes it could lead to escape attempts, or even aggressive behavior towards the owner.
The company also claimed not to be liable for any effects of misusing the product. Because everybody knows well: people have some very kinky hobbies.
“Sorry!” Victor said indistinctly. “I didn't mean to!”
“Um… no problem. That’s okay,” Lyra replied, shifting her hooves. “And could you please make the water a bit cooler when you start washing off the lather?”
“Cool water. Right. Right.” Vic nodded.
***
Once Lyra was bathed and wiped dry with a big towel, she shone brighter than a new pin. She combed her mane and tail, and Vic observed the work of her horn with fascination, while the manebrush flitted and danced in her telekinetic field.
A unicorn’s horn was a biotechnological masterpiece. It could generate a low-power forcefield that passed for telekinesis. It also could emit light and sound, and do some other tricks. Pegasi had antigravs in their wings with feather-like resonators. Alicorns had both, but of better quality. And the ponies were explained that it was impossible to cast powerful spells because of the “low levels of natural magical energies” in the human world.
“Would you like to get dressed?” Vic asked.
“Get dressed?” She spun in front of the mirror girlishly.
“"Yes. I’ve prepared some garments for you,” Vic said. In fact every pony was supplied with a set of necessary things, including clothes. Lyra came with a white tunic, some fancy gown Vic never studied closely and four long white socks with mint-green stripes.
“Why? Are we going somewhere?” the unicorn asked.
“Well, not now. You see, here on Earth only animals wear no clothes, while sapient beings should usually be dressed.”
“Got it!” The little pony beamed. “Whoa, is it okay that I’m all, you know… animalistic right now?”
“Naked? Well… I guess this rule can’t be applied that strictly to ponies. You’re virtually newborn after all,” Vic tried to explain.
“Am I? Oka-a-ay,” the mare drawled, then drove the thought away. “Alright, show me what you’ve got!”
Victor had bought a few sets of pony clothes besides the standard one in case Lyra wanted variety. Of course she’d want diversity. She’s a gal, for Celestia’s sake!
The unicorn opted for a taupe pantsuit and tied a feminine tie, grabbing them with her telekinesis. It seems she likes to be clothed, Vic thought, even if I can’t believe it is comfortable to wear a garment over fur.
“Well, how do I look?” she asked, gazing upwards at the man.
She’s barely waist-high when standing on four legs, Vic thought absently. The average pony height just exceeded two and a half feet. Stallions could usually grow a quarter of a dozen inches taller. And of course alicorns were the tallest: Celestia surpassed the average man’s height without even counting her horn.
“You look splendid.” Vic smiled. “Dressed to kill, or go to a soiree. Actually, you don’t need to wear a jacket at home.”
Lyra blushed slightly. Her small jacket got enveloped in a pale glow and hovered to the back of a chair.
“You promised to tell me how you know me,” she prompted, changing the topic.
“Oh, of course. Let’s go, shall we?” Victor said, heading to the living room. He turned on a 2D-visor, and a huge rectangular screen appeared in midair.
“We’ll watch a couple episodes to give you a basic understanding how humans know about Equestria,” he said. “But first let me show you around.”
Victor gave Lyra a tour of the apartment, and taught her how to use its amenities and appliances, just to avoid haphazard explanations in the future. It took less than half an hour. The unicorn easily compensated the lack of hands with her telekinesis or surprisingly prehensile front hooves.
I’m curious how earth ponies and pegasi would do the trick, Vic thought, watching the remote control for house appliances flitting around, luminescent in a fake magic glow.
When he told Lyra humans never used magic to make their machines work, the unicorn bombarded him with tons of technical questions, the answers to which were either unknown to Vic or could not be explained to Lyra. The curious mare calmed down only when Victor promised to show her a documentary about human technological achievements.
Soon Lyra and Vic settled on a big couch in front of a holographic screen and spent the next couple of hours watching the show.
From a century of oblivion rose Equestria, the Elements of Harmony, and the Princesses. The characters came to life on screen and lived and talked and sang…
Victor left the room a few times to bring more snacks and some lemonade from the kitchen.
Every time he met the look of the golden shimmering eyes, he felt as if a pair of wings was unfolding behind his back. Every word of the little unicorn that was sitting in a perfectly human pose on his couch filled those wings with wind. And she just munched peanuts merrily and slurped lemonade with a straw.
“Look, Vic, I remember that moment! Oh, that’s me again!” she exclaimed upon seeing herself on screen. “Everypony looks so funny, drawn that way!”
A robocourier arrived with a pizza from the Italian restaurant a hundred levels below. The unicorn was fascinated by the looks of the hovering drone, and when Victor explained that the delivery robot was not a magical creature, her excitement reached happy puppy levels.
The setting sun painted windows red and orange.
“We don’t need to watch everything in one go,” Vic said, throwing a look at the dusk.
Here at the top levels of the White City, the sun was not hurried to hide beyond the low horizon. Dirty concrete multi-levelled mazes of transport interchanges, rough brick walls and smoking communications – everything lay far beneath. Here the steel and glass and spires of buildings pierced the skies. Constellations of holograms shined here forever, encircled by coils of invisible roads for hovercars and drones and the green tendrils of high-altitude parks. And only the sun glowed above covering everything in red gold.
Truly a majestic view, the triumph of human creativity and ingenuity, of architecture and engineering, bringing the visions of science fiction to life. The Spires. The future today.
Lyra observed all that unimaginable magnificence with a wide-eyed stare. The White City glistened in the dusk, and Lyra’s eyes shimmered with tears. This was the human world, her cherished dream – now a reality. Right here, right now.
With a corner of his eye Victor saw the rapture in Lyra’s golden eyes.
“Vic,” she whispered, not looking up from the window, “this… this is incredible… How many humans live in here?”
“Here in the European Gigapolis? About one and a half billion now,” he replied. “But if you mean the whole planet, Earth, the number might be somewhere about twelve billion in five cities similar to this one.”
“Twelve… billions…” the pony squeaked, wonderstruck by the number. Indeed, the biggest city she could imagine before was Manehattan with its population of less than one million ponies.
“But why would anyhuman build a city this huge?” she asked after calming down somewhat.
Victor recalled the history class and began the story.
“After the end of the Third W… ahem… Well, when the problem of livelihood of the human population became a burning issue, the Gigapoleis project emerged. The Gigapoleis are giant cities with highly-developed utilities, designed to reduce fares and optimize industry, population density and resources distribution. Mankind couldn’t afford to be wasteful anymore.”
Vic sighed and continued.
“Some… differences between people complicated their natural cooperation. Anyway, the major corporations and the United Nations approved and supported the project. The Global Assembly, the world’s government agency, was formed on the basis of the UN. The corporations committed themselves to bring the megacities to life. As you can see, they even succeeded for once.”
Victor did not bring up the fact that most parts of Gigapoleis were not like the Spires. Not shining castles over a grey sea of concrete and asphalt. He didn’t highlight that only the most well off citizens could afford a life in the White City. And the farther one moved away from its high walls, the gloomier and more dangerous the streets around became. Well, at least the media say so. Not that I’ve been there myself. Not that I want to discuss any of that with Lyra.
And Lyra? Lyra watched the human city with innocent eyes. Nothing could penetrate the unicorn’s awe-struck expression. She saw the new world from its brightest, most beautiful side, and her conviction in the wisdom and grandeur of the human race grew even stronger in her heart.
She wanted to know it, to understand it. She wanted to learn everything. So Vic switched to science channels.
Before her eyes unfolded the views of national parks and ancient history reconstructions, science and culture and the history of Gigapoleis. Every bit of mankind’s pride.
Technological progress seemed to be Lyras favorite topic. Humans didn’t have wings or magic, and required none. They had thermonuclear power, bioengineering and unipolymers – the three pillars upon which the modern world stood. And robotics! And astronautics! And many more!
Nightfall sneaked in and settled. The science programs playlist wasn’t even thirty percent completed when Lyra turned the screen off, handling remote control with ease.
“I’m gonna collapse right now,” she said, and yawned so eagerly her small ears almost touched each other on the back of her head. “Guess that’s enough excitement for one day.”
Victor smiled. Then he looked around. The place reminded him of a battlefield. Cookie wrappers and empty peanut bags, pizza boxes (cheese, paprika and mushrooms) and ubiquitous Coca-Cola bottles were scattered around the floor in a crumpled, torn, battered and scattered mess, like a fallen warhost.
“Indeed, you’re right,” he said, “it’s high time to go to bed. We probably should postpone the cleaning. We can do it tomorrow. I’m on vacation anyway. I’ve no errands to run anytime soon.”
The unicorn yawned again, which he took as an affirmative.
“Vic,” she unexpectedly said, “you haven’t told me anything about yourself.”
“Um, maybe tomorrow? You’re literally falling asleep,” Victor replied.
“Oh, sweet Celestia!” Lyra theatrically raised her foreleg and covered her eyes in a dramatic gesture. “I’m spending the night with a complete stranger, a human to boot! Whatever would I tell Bon Bon! Whatever would ponies think of me?”
Is she really afraid of me? Vic thought frantically. But she’s smiling. And there are these mischievous sparkles in her eyes. That could probably mean she’s joking. Yes. Apparently joking.
“All right,” he said. “Change of plans! Let’s clean this mess together and I’ll tell you about myself a little. How about that?”
“Yay! Nocturnal daily routines!” the unicorn exclaimed and jumped off the couch.
Magical unicorns are convenient for housecleaning, Vic thought as he observed wrappers, crumpled packs and even the smallest crumbs being enveloped in telekinetic radiance and hoverdanced into a trash bag he held. We could activate cleaning drones but those clods always miss something.
“So, will you tell me about yourself or what?” Lyra asked when the trash bag was half-full.
The man slapped his forehead hard. “Oh! Sorry, I just watched you working… Ahem.”
He tried to collect his thoughts. Thoughts frantically escaped. “Well, my name is Victor J. Stewart and I’m a manager. I work… um… in an office in a company you never heard of and probably will never hear about.” Oh, I'm rambling. “I have plenty of money and work for… um… education purposes, I suppose. I’m twenty four. I live here… um… in this apartment in the higher levels of White City of the European Gigapolis. Which is a giant urban complex, a conglomerate of multiple cities of old Europe and you already know it–” And it’s obvious so why am I even telling this I’m rambling again stop rambling Stewart! “Um… And I have parents. Yes. They live in Sidney Arcology. And my great-uncle lives in the Siberian taiga.”
He stopped and took a deep breath. Wonderful response, Stewart. So elegant.
“Do you have a special somehuman?” Lyra asked quickly, then blushed. “Sorry!”
“Somewho man? No! No, I don’t have a girlfriend, a fortiori, a wife,” he replied. “And there’s nothing to be sorry for!”
“Then I’ll ask more,” the mare said. Her voice suddenly became dead serious. “How did I happen specifically upon your bathtub, what is my status here and what will happen next?”
This question brought Victor’s mind back to life. According to the User Manual, questions like this were typical for recently activated synthets. Victor meticulously studied every possible one of them and was ready. I locked the Manual in the safe after reading it, didn’t I?
“Do you remember the company logo at the beginning of every episode? Hasbro?” he asked. When the pony nodded, he continued, “In the past this company produced toys and cartoons… generally speaking. Now it deals with situations like yours. I don’t know any details, but they reached some form of agreement with Princess Celestia. And now the way to Earth is open for Equestrians.”
Victor paused. Lyra peered at him, her head cocked. “You didn’t say in what capacity I’m here,” she said quietly.
This is it, the point of no return. The Manual states, I must make a choice, and our whole relationship depends on my next words, Victor thought. But I’ve made my choice long ago.
“I’ll be honest. Right now you’re my guest. But I hope it’s the beginning of a true friendship,” he said.
A wide smile returned to the pony’s face.
“Thank you!” Lyra said sincerely, then suddenly approached the man, rose on her hind legs, reached up and hugged him. “Here, in an alien world, it means so much to me!”
“Me too, Lyra. Me too,” he whispered. With the pony’s muzzle just below his face, Victor felt the urge to peck her on her funny soft nose. That would be inappropriate! Keep it together, Stewart! he encouraged himself and instead simply embraced the unicorn just below the bottom edge of her mane where he assumed her shoulders were.
They stayed still for a minute. Then Vic coughed awkwardly, released Lyra, grabbed the trash bag and promptly carried it to the utilizer. The mare followed him. She was interested in every bit of human technology and fascinated by the column of the pneumatic utilizer, which sent waste to a recycling station humming softly.
“Where am I sleeping?” Lyra asked when they returned to the room.
“There are two possible options,” Victor said. “Either you can stay here on the couch, or you can have a shakedown on the squab in my cabinet.”
“But if I take your squab where will you sleep?”
“Oh, I’ll sleep in my bed!” Victor smiled. “There is a double bed in my bedroom.”
The pony thought for several seconds.
“Could you remind me, can humans sleep together in their big comfy beds instead of sleeping separately on squabs in cabinets?” she asked. Her voice carried apparent cunning notes that went completely over Vic’s head. The Manual mentioned such questions from synthets as low priority but he was ready to answer them and waited for such possibility.
"Sleeping together is socially appropriate for spouses, special somehu… couples and friends.” He reported eagerly. “It is also acceptable as a desperate act in situations with zero alternatives. It’s awkward to offer you to share my bed the first night after we met, though.”
“Okay, I’ll sleep here on the couch.” Lyra said. “I can watch movies from here. Couches have their advantages!”
“One minute please!” Victor smiled happily, oblivious to the sarcasm, and headed to the closet to get bed linen.
“Um, one more thing", the pony said, timidly shuffling her hooves. “Is it really necessary to wear clothes all the time? Even when sleeping?”
“Ah, the possibilities are wide!” Vic said. “From no clothes at all to a minimal amounts of clothes to full pajamas in case of especially cold nights. I guess the same works for ponies. It’s a question of personal choice I suppose.”
“Okay, got it!” The pony smiled with relief. “Good night then?”
“Have a good night, Lyra.” Victor nodded and headed to the bedroom.
Behind his back he heard the rustle of clothes and soft humming of some song. He heard the words “human beings” and “way they are”.
Victor felt something the bronies at the Club were talking about. Something they connected with ponies in their lives: serenity and joy.
Is this happiness?
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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
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What's with all of the disliked comments? Will Rainbow Dash be beating anybody up in this story? Will she be reaching Unstoppable Rage levels of anger? Will she be giving out any No Holds Barred Beatdowns?
7401380
I have three guesses:
1) Tags: the story is hard to tag, since it starts off nice and cute and then goes darker or lighter like a sine wave. Also, the [sex] tag is not a sign of explicit content here. There will be mentions and references, but nothing explicit. Ergo, some folks may be unhappy.
2) The story has a huge fanbase in Russia. The same's true for its haters. Part of the dislikes are surely their doing.
3) Slow-ish pace: the story does not introduce all major characters right from the get-go. Say, Lyra is introduced only in Chapter 2, while Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo are introduced a couple chapters later (so have patience).
Yes.
She will, so to say, lose her shit, yes. But I'm not sure if that scene is that trope-y.
Like, Favorite and tracking.
This story has a nice concept, a god pacing (IMO) and while it needs some spelling check, I think it has enough consistency to be read by anyone (English isn't my native language and I can read fine, but I hope those proofreaders help you a lot).
As someone who doesn't live in Europe (Latin America), I can see how this can go differently in other continents (almost), which incentivize the possibility of increasing this worldbuilding, another plus for me.
I really hope you manage to translate and send here more chapters because this has some good potential.
7403269 thanks for the kind feedback.
Yes, our editors do help us a lot. Without them, the translation would be.. less readable, to say the least. But alas, we do need more spelling checks to catch all of 'em typos (just like pokemon).
In the coming months we're planning to pick up the pace and release more chapters, since it's finally summer break (for me at least) and we'll be able to devote more time to the project. So stay tuned! The further you read, the better it gets.
Oh, and every chapter will certainly be accompanied by the amazing art you see in the published chapters. Also, we're working on The Broken Toy audiobook (can be found here)
Thanks again for taking your time reading our work. We're happy you like it.
7403447
You welcome.
No dislikes, this is so far an awesome story, and just begin, i wonder where it'll take off! Keep up the good work with the translation
Also i wonder, will we see a Blackjack, maybe? She's the best wastelander pon =P
7404101 I'm glad you like it. The further it progresses, the better it gets.
So you want to see a wastelander pony here, huh? I don't recall a Blackjack in the story, but... well, not gonna spoil it.
P.S. Blackjack is pretty awesome. But I'm more into Rampage now. And Boo is the best wastelander pony
7404183
She was mentioned at the catalogue part with Little Pip as well, a Blackjack be awesome, personal security mare ( and she does like the more adult activities lol ). As for Rampage, well if want a pony killing machine on the loose, after your enemies, sure XD
The original has "Characters death" tag. Doesn't the translation need "Tragedy" tag?
7404404 I'd rather get Boo - the luckiest pony out there
7404963 don't "Drama" and "Dark" already cover it?
Most important quastion of it all, when is the next chapter?
And Boo is awesome too XD
7406868 We've already begun working on the next chapter, but I'm not giving any release dates. It's gonna be released when it's ready. Some things can't be rushed.
But if everything goes as planned, it's gonna come out soon. Stay tuned!
you all surprise me... How can you miss Puppysmile as best wasteland pony also Blackjack is a pony you drink with.
7407409 Alright, so, Puppysmiles is the cutest foal in the Wasteland, Blackjack's the best drinking buddy and Littlepip is... well, Littlepip.
7408036 Puppysmiles also has her Rock lol and Blackjack is queen of WhiskeyThat flies on alicorns lol. and lilpip is um sunshine and rainbows
7408247 Pretty much sums them up
Blackjack special talent is Victory, she's the best
And more! so very low on good chapters atm from other stories
it makes one go insane 
7412003 Summertime has its ups and downs. Including faster chapter translation (hopefully).
Stop posting this piece of garbage.
Ignore sour flank, more chapters plz!
Update?
We're starving for more chapters
7518625 We're working on them, although I'm sick atm (thank you, Poland, you're such a hospitable country
) and the other translator has real life to worry about.
Sorry we're not working as fast as you and us both would like to =(
This is wrong on so many levels.
I'm glad that translation from pidorashqas language to Human language of this piece of trash died.
Continue the translation, please! This story is great, it must be translated!
7780173
I've had a very difficult term this year, and the exams aren't cutting me any slack. When I'm done with exams, I'll continue working on the translation.
The other guy has his RL-stuff to tackle as well.
Sorry we're not keeping you updated. But I assure you, we are alive and we are going to finish this translation.
So you'll have your "sweet bread", bratishka
I'm assuming it's because English isn't the author's native language, but the way everyone talks just a little 'different', a little oddly formal but grammatically correct, is charming. It's like we're hearing how humans speak just a little differently 150 years from now. Maybe vernacular was kind of stripped out because all the people live in a gigapolis where a standard would be easier to set.
Given how stories like this often go, I'm guessing IQ, physical age, and weight.