Chapter 3
“You don’t have to come.” Twilight spoke matter-of-factly, trying to hide the hope from her voice. “I’ve learned enough about Humans that I should be able to handle whatever on my own. Rainbow’s already offered to come if you’d rather stay and examine the artifact some more.”
Her apprentice looked much better than she had when she had returned from her adventure with the CMC a week ago. There was still a slight weakness in her magic, a weakness Twilight’s Alicorn senses couldn’t miss no matter what the filly thought about her ability to act healthy.
The filly was standing in the doorway to the little bedroom she shared with Spike, which they had made from the second floor with the careful use of shelves and a new divider. The room was quite cramped, just wide enough for a bunk-bed and a single squat desk they had to take turns to use.
To her dismay, the filly was already wearing her saddlebags, the same ones she had packed for “exploring.” “Truth’s on it, Mom. He doesn’t really need me.”
Spike grinned from beside her, looking almost as eager as the filly. “We shouldn’t leave her behind, Twi. Didn’t Celestia tell you she thought Chance’s people were involved somehow?”
Twilight sighed, but she didn’t argue further. No matter how much she wanted her filly to have more time to rest, Celestia’s evidence did point to human involvement. More rest might be better for the filly, but it wasn’t better for Equestria.
“Alright.” She glanced once at the saddlebags. “You’re ready to go? The train leaves in fifteen minutes.”
Chance nodded, flicking her tail towards the saddlebags. “I packed ‘em for anything! Ancient ruins… or trips to faraway cities.”
“Are you sure?” Twilight advanced into the doorway, into the room that was only just big enough for all three of them to stand up in. “Let’s be sure.” She flipped the saddlebags open, poking her nose inside. “Jacket… sleeping bag… fire starter… knife… tablet…” She leaned a little further, looking into the other half. “Canteen… dried food…” She stopped, frowning. “What are these?”
Twilight levitated the remaining two objects from the saddlebags. Both were made from reflective plastic, in the way that many human objects looked. One was a squashed rectangle, about three hooves long and two wide, made from bright red with a prominent white cross on the center. The other was less clear, a slightly thicker length of plastic with an opening on the front and protrusions around the bent half.
Chance’s eyes went wide. “Be careful with that one, Mom!” She snatched the bent object from her magical grasp, possible only because Twilight let her. She pulled it closer to her chest, wrapping one hoof around it. “This is a stun gun.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use Truth to make anything dangerous.” Twilight didn’t know that much about humans or their technology, but she knew what a “gun” was.
“It’s not!” Chance raised one leg defensively, even as her ears flattened and tail tucked between her legs. “Well… not supposed to be. It makes a pony sleep. It doesn’t do any permanent damage!”
Twilight frowned. “If it wasn’t for what happened at the conference, I wouldn’t want you to have that.” She gestured, watching as the relieved filly slipped the “stun gun” back into her saddlebags. “What about this one?”
Chance relaxed a little. “Oh, that’s a first aid kit. Case a pony got hurt.”
Twilight flicked the case open in her magic, peering inside. Four cylinders of plastic and glass were snapped snugly into the plastic, wrapped tightly in foam padding. There was human writing all over the box, though Twilight couldn’t read any of it or make sense of the diagrams. “Doesn’t look like any first aid kit I’ve ever seen before.”
“It’s better!” Chance tugged at the case, but this time Twilight didn’t let go. The filly was unusual in several ways, but not in strength. She didn’t stand a chance of taking something from Twilight if the Alicorn didn’t let her.
The filly frowned, but continued. “It’s called a Nanophage emergency triage kit.”
Twilight snapped it closed, though she didn’t give it back. “Doesn’t seem very useful to me. Four different drugs?”
Chance’s eyes grew glassy, losing focus. Twilight recognized the expression—her filly looked like that whenever she was remembering something that bothered her. It took her several long moments to reply. “Not four drugs. Two lives saved.”
Spike was suddenly beside her, tugging on her tail. “Twi, didn’t you say we only had fifteen minutes?”
“Oh!” Twilight tossed the case into her apprentice’s waiting saddlebags, turning away. “We should get going!” Twilight’s own bags were packed with far less. After all, they would stay in a nice hotel, not camp out in the woods. “Guess I don’t have to find Rainbow…”
They hurried from the library, out into Ponyville. The sun was setting then, casting the whole town in bright orange. Twilight spent a few moments in the light, locking the library doors and appreciating the beauty of her home.
It had changed little since Chance had come to live with her. Little, except for the squares of flat plastic called “solar panels” Chance had used to replace their coal generator and its smoke. Twilight didn’t even begin to understand how they worked, though she planned on setting time aside and figuring her way through it eventually.
Twilight looked almost longingly up at the clouds as they walked, searching for the one with Rainbow Dash on it. She didn’t find it, but since she wouldn’t actually get to make the trip with her friend that didn’t matter too much. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t have been that good at solving Precursor mysteries, anyway.
Soon enough they were on the train, set up in a private car at the back and settling in for a long trip. Her apprentice set herself up on one of the bunks, but then hurried back to Twilight and sat down, looking curious. “Why did Celestia think humans were involved?”
Twilight couldn’t hide a smile. Whatever else might be said of the grass-colored filly, at least she was diligent. “Well, see for yourself.” Twilight reached into her saddlebags, drawing out photos. They weren’t all that big, though the pony who had taken them had taken the time to develop them in color potion instead of black and white.
The photos depicted the inside of a warehouse turned into a maze of metal walls, wires, and cables. Twilight had rarely seen such sophisticated machinery, though she could make no sense of what it might be for from just a photo.
Her apprentice stared at the images in turn, biting her lip the way she always did when she was deep in thought. Twilight found herself drawing the filly close with a wing, looking down at the photos she had spread on the seat. The filly didn’t seem to notice. “Where’d they find this?”
“A warehouse,” Twilight supplied. “Stopped paying their rent, so the owners cut the locks and went in to see what they could sell. Found… all that.”
“Who owned it?”
“Well, that’s the mystery.” Twilight shrugged her other wing. “Private individual rented the place, somepony named Iron Blood. Nopony could get a hold of him though, and the city doesn’t have records of anypony by that name living there. Apparently he rented the place for at least the last few years… until he stopped paying last month.”
Chance frowned, levitating the photos closer to her. She examined each one, arranging them on the seat. Twilight realized she was trying to reconstruct the look of the warehouse, setting each photo according to where it had been taken, walls and windows and light serving to guide their placement.
Unfortunately, it covered only a small part of the building, and it was mostly empty seat cushion between them. She plopped down on her haunches, defeated. “No idea what those are. This thing here is called a Van de Graaff generator, it’s used for making extremely high voltages. No clue what they were using it for from just a few photos, though.”
“Do you agree with Celestia that humans were involved?”
Chance made an indecisive squeak. “I’m… it’s possible. But I’ve seen some amazing things from ponies before. Like those inventors who made our old generator.” Her tone grew distant and wistful a moment, staring off out into the window.
“No.” Twilight reached out, shutting the filly’s mouth with one hoof. “I know what you’re thinking—don’t. Those stallions are liars and troublemakers.” She let her tone grow a little stern. “Use your head for your thinking, alright?”
Chance blushed, her tail tucking itself between her legs. She stared at the carpet as she noded. “Y-yeah. Anyway… nothing in those pictures couldn’t be from Equestria. All that stuff looks advanced, but it might just be an expensive waste. I won’t be able to tell you for sure until I’m standing in that place.”
She looked up, though the filly didn’t manage to actually meet Twilight's eyes. Her own gray ones darted fitfully about the space around Twilight. “Why do you hate them so much, anyway? The generator they made worked fine, didn’t it?”
Twilight grunted, and couldn’t keep the darkness from her expression. She tried not to aim it at the filly, and instead took her into a hug. The filly squirmed and kicked, but couldn’t escape. A few moments later, and she had been sent into a fit of giggles. Twilight didn’t answer until she had gotten Chance to relax, setting her back down beside her.
“They’re slimeballs,” she explained, as calmly as she could. It wouldn’t do to use profanity around her daughter. The filly picked up enough of that from Apple Bloom already. “First time I met them, they took advantage of Applejack. Her family isn’t that great with their bits, and they sweet-talked them into wagering the whole farm against a machine in a cider-making contest.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t get better from there. Those ponies don’t care about anything but bits.”
“Ok.” Chance sighed, flopping sideways against the seat. “Sorry I brought it up.”
“Hush.” Twilight levitated the filly off the ground, setting her firmly down in the bunk bed. “Good little apprentices get a good night sleep.” She gestured with one hoof towards Spike’s bunk. “See? My number one assistant already went to be—” she trailed off, eyes narrowing.
Spike’s sleeping bag was glowing from within, the telltale sign he had brought a flashlight and a comic but didn’t want her to realize. She pretended not to notice. “It’s five hours to Fillydelphia.” She pulled the covers up over her apprentice, before the filly could protest.
“But I’m not tired!” Chance poked her head out, looking up. Despite her words, the filly looked quite sleepy. She sounded it too, whatever she might object.
“Really?” Twilight glanced at the lights, levitating the switch down into the off position. The only light in their car changed to the glow of stars and streetlights outside, blurring past as the train chugged along and forming strange orange line patterns that slid back and forth across the interior.
She sat down on the bench beside the bed, looking at the filly. One of Chance’s eyes was already closed. “We both know you stretched yourself on that adventure of yours. Just because your implants let you use more of your magic doesn’t mean you don’t have to recover afterwards like anypony else.”
Panic flashed briefly in Chance’s face, and she tugged the blanket over herself. Her voice came muffled. “I didn’t!”
“Sure you didn’t.” Twilight gently levitated the blanket back down, smiling at her. “Just rest, okay? We both know you need it.” She lowered her voice, just a little. “I know you didn’t tell me everything about your adventure the other day. If I was going to punish you, I would have already.”
She didn’t stay to see the filly’s expression, though she wanted to. Instead Twilight rose, levitating the door closed behind her as she made her way into the rest of the train. Neither of the car’s young occupants got up to follow. She waited behind the door a few minutes, making sure the lights didn’t come on. When she was satisfied, Twilight turned and made her way up the train.
There weren’t many ponies on this particular train, just a few lone buisness ponies with important appointments in far-away places. They mostly kept to themselves, resting in their seats or reading their papers. Each who saw her gave her respect, be it the formal bow custom dictated or a simple nod. On a night like tonight, she was happy to be alone with her thoughts.
Twilight made her way to the commissary car, where a miniature cafe prepared the same meal over and over. She bought a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee from the crotchety old donkey behind the stall, along with a copy of the paper, levitating all three to an empty chair to read.
Disappearances perplex police! read the headline. Hardly settling for Twilight’s nerves. The train carried the Fillydelphia Times, since that was their destination. Twilight scanned the article, searching for anything the police might’ve missed as she sipped at soup and coffee.
She didn’t find anything. The rest of the newspaper was a little more encouraging, uplifting stories about a new school, praise for a winning local athletic team, boring stuff about stocks and weather. Twilight found herself skimming more than reading, feeling uneasy but not able to place why. She watched the outside blur past, mostly empty wilderness with stretches of farm. Occasionally the train passed through other little villages, taking passengers or dropping them off, but mostly they continued without interruption.
“Something bothers you.” Twilight heard a familiar voice from behind her, and she didn’t turn around. Maybe it was her tiredness, or maybe it was how uncomfortable she felt. Either way, she didn’t consciously realize who was speaking. “Something is out of place. There’s a twisting in your gut, but you can’t say why.”
Twilight shook her head. “I know why. A dangerous monster is loose, and I’m not doing anything to catch him.”
“You’re new to being an Alicorn. Leave the important missions for ponies with more experience.”
Twilight turned, eyes widening as she saw the form towering beside her. Discord stood at his full height, strange body of disparate parts as strange as ever. She tried not to stare. “Shouldn’t you be out catching him right now?”
Discord looked as melancholic as she felt. He levitated himself into the seat beside her, without even bothering to bend the world around them. “Can’t do anything until he steals more magic. Then it’s just a matter of following the imbalance.”
“Yeah, sure.” Twilight rolled her eyes, looking back out the window. “You’re just putting off actually doing something useful.”
The draconequus sighed. “I want safety for Equestria.”
She couldn’t help herself—Twilight laughed. The sound was bitter even to her. “Yeah, right. After all you’ve done. I haven’t forgotten what you did to my daughter.”
“You ponies are too kind for your own good. First stray kitten to fall out of a rift and you’re adopting it and dressing it up like it’s one of you. Nine lives might seem to go on forever, but they still run out.” Discord didn’t look offended. He didn’t look properly embarrassed or remorseful either, which darkened Twilight’s mood even more. “Some of your anger is deserved—but some isn’t.”
“I don’t want to talk about deserved, Discord. Sometimes I wonder if you deserve to still be imprisoned.”
“Maybe so.” He gestured, and the newspaper zoomed over to him. He reached into one of the colorful ads for pastries as though it were a window, pulling one of them still steaming out in front of him. He sniffed, then took a big bite. Where Twilight could see inside, it looked like the thing had ink for cream filling. “You want my advice?”
Twilight shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He ignored her. “Don’t get off this train. Ride it all the way to Trottingham. Catch an airship, sail somewhere far away. Take that pet of yours to see the zebras, maybe.” In a flash, his clothes changed, becoming tan and white and strange. Binoculars hung around his neck, and something very much like a gun rested against his back. “Make it a nice long safari. Forever, even.”
“What?” Twilight couldn’t keep the anger from her voice. Her horn crackled, and again she found herself boiling with regret that they had given up the Elements of Harmony. “Is that a threat?”
Discord’s strange clothes vanished as he floated to his feet. “It’s professional courtesy.” He lowered his voice, eyes narrowing. “Don’t think you’re the only pony willing to do something unseemly for the greater good.” He vanished.
Twilight wanted to shout, but of course she couldn’t do that. Even if the car had emptied as soon as ponies caught sight of Discord, she wouldn’t give the tabloids something to write about.
She thought about sending a letter to Celestia about Discord’s strange behavior, but that would’ve meant waking her assistant. By now Spike would’ve stopped pretending—no matter how much he wanted to stay up late and read, he was still a baby dragon.
Twilight walked back to her car, finding the chair closest to the door and plopping herself down on it. She went back to staring out the window, feeling even more uneasy than before.
* * *
Chance didn’t have an exosuit like Apple Bloom’s. Even so, she positively bounced around the warehouse, taking in the strange machinery and the flashing lights with an energy only the young could imagine.
Her week of recovery time had done for her magical strain, though her horn was still a little sore and she got a little headache if she levitated anything for too long. She hadn’t mentioned those symptoms to Twilight, and had no plans of doing so now.
The warehouse seemed positively giant from her filly’s height, at least ten meters high with a retractable glass ceiling. The various storage shelves had been incorporated into the machinery, like some kind of half insane mad-scientist’s creation.
She was only dimly aware of the police ponies watching from the doorways, extremely skeptical of the filly dancing around between machines and high voltage cables. Only her mom’s explanations had gotten her here, and only her persuasion kept her here.
Chance didn’t care. Unlike the ancient ruins, this machine actually seemed like her element. Parts of her mind long forgotten came into uneasy life again as she took the whole thing in.
Second Chance had been created as a last lifeline of her world. Into her mind the Federation had concentrated all the knowledge of engineering and science a living brain could contain, with instructions to bootstrap all the way from flint tools to nondeterministic quantum processors.
She had been sent into a world humanity thought was uninhabited, with instructions on how to build the stabilizer that would allow others to follow. It didn’t matter how long that mission took.
Unfortunately for the United Earth Federation, Equestria already had an advanced race living on it, one Chance wasn’t too keen on displacing. She would not be tearing wide the bridge in the sky to let humans flood this planet.
As a result, she hadn’t had the chance to use her instincts for engineering as often as she liked. The room’s machinery was one such rare opportunity, and she reveled in it. She traced each wire, coil, and component with her eyes, building the whole thing into a functional model in her head. Chance didn’t even really need the Nanophage, just her intellect and enough time.
Twilight tried to ask her what she was doing, but Chance didn’t answer with anything coherent and the Alicorn gave up. Even if she wasn’t really paying attention, Chance was grateful her mom trusted her enough to leave her to her own devices, trusting that she wouldn’t get herself hurt.
It was probably a little generous. Chance had gotten herself hurt plenty of times. Hell, she had almost died a week ago. She didn’t consider that particular misadventure her fault. Sweetie Belle had pulled the Flower out without thinking, not her!
Chance stopped after at least an hour, a grin spreading slowly across her face. “Twilight?”
The Alicorn emerged from around a corner, smiling faintly at her. “Yes, Chance?”
“I think I have it.” She beamed, bouncing up to the lavender Alicorn, junk thumping in her saddlebags as she went. They had already stopped at the hotel room, but Chance hadn’t left anything there but the sleeping bag and the jacket. It was much too warm in Fillydelphia for jackets.
“Alright.” Twilight gestured all around them, expectant. “What is all this?”
Chance didn’t see Spike, but she did see a cream-colored policepony beside Twilight, her expression stern. “Yes, please explain. We’re all very eager to learn what good it was to use this place as a playground for foals.”
Chance would’ve giggled at the policemare’s uniform and its striking similarity to old earth movies, were it not for how grumpy she sounded. Somehow she doubted the pony would take that disrespect of her position well, princess nearby or no.
She turned away, walking into the maze of shelves and coils and parts. “Follow me! I’ll show you!”
“Princess, with all due respect, I don’t think this—”
Twilight cleared her throat. “My apprentice knows what she’s talking about, officer. Please do not interfere.” She hurried to catch up, lowering her voice to a whisper as she got close. “You better know what you’re talking about!”
Chance grinned up at her. “I do!” She slowed her pace a little, clopping down the concrete floor towards the control area at the center. “Somepony was making an EMP. Pretty close to going off, too.” She looked behind her, puffing out her chest as she met the policemare’s eyes. She couldn’t help it! “You ponies are super lucky I got here when I did.” She frowned to herself, looking back down. “Although… I don’t know why you would’ve left it on. Why did you leave the electricity on, anyway?”
The officer sounded defensive. “There was no telling how important all this was. We thought the Crown was probably involved, even if nopony would admit it.” She glared, though not at Chance anymore.
Twilight raised a hoof defensively. “I assure you, the Crown wasn’t involved in this. I’ve been placed in charge of all research like this, and I would know if I had ordered something.” Twilight looked a little confused. “What’s an EMP, Chance?”
The filly’s frown deepened as they walked. The center of the room was a control area, with several tables taller than she was covered with makeshift controls. Huge old-fashioned switches had been bolted to the tables, along with spinning dials and whirring gears and levers. It was quite an intimidating display.
Intimidating enough that Twilight and the officer didn’t actually follow her, instead standing outside the control booth, though they still watched intently.
“An EMP is…” She frowned, searching for words in Equestrian that would explain what she was thinking. Eventually she found them. “Like an invisible explosion. It doesn’t hurt anything alive, or anything magic. But the power system… transformers, and circuits, and stuff like that… it destroys all of it!”
Chance hopped up onto the chair, staring at the control panel. She had seen the machinery now; she knew where every wire went and what each did. This machine couldn’t hide from her.
Twilight spoke from nearby, looking concerned. “What’s the range on something like that?” She looked like she wanted to tell Chance not to touch it, but she didn’t actually say that.
“This is a really clever way to make one.” Chance gestured all around them. “The easy way to make a big one is to get a nuclear explosion into the upper atmosphere.” She stopped, one hoof resting on a switch. With each she manipulated, the electrical noise around the warehouse began to settle. “Well, I guess that isn’t easy for ponies. But you get the idea.”
Twilight was still looking expectant, and Chance realized she hadn’t actually answered her question. “Oh, sorry! This one would’ve used your own electrical grid to amplify it when it went off. Pretty much everything electrical in the city would’ve been destroyed forever.”
Her mentor did not seem comforted by this news. Even as Chance continued at the controls and the lights started to dim all over the warehouse, Twilight walked right up to the other side of the table and looked seriously at her. “Do you think the ponies who built this used Precursor knowledge to do it?”
Chance nodded. “Without a doubt. These raw materials are primitive… but the technique is way advanced. Getting a non-nuclear EMP with a range like this took us hundreds of years longer than just figuring out electricity. To do it without an airburst…” She couldn’t keep the respect from her voice, so she didn’t try. “Your bad guys were smart. Smarter than most of the people in the labs I worked.”
Twilight nodded. “Just… finish shutting it down.” She smiled. “Good work, Chance.”
Chance beamed, and she didn’t really watch as Twilight and the policemare walked a little distance away. She didn’t even feel bad that they were having their conversation out of earshot. I’m a kid here, it’s not their fault. I wouldn’t want to scare a kid by telling them the details of a terrorist attack either.
Chance knew machines, particularly the ones with even tenuous connections to Earth. She hoped the bad ponies who had built this thing had spent lots and lots of bits on it, bits they would never get back.
Chance might be able to dissect the purpose and function of a machine with her eyes, but that didn’t mean she was perfect. In particular, when the machine was constructed with the specific purpose of deceiving her.
As she worked to discharge the machine’s massive capacitor arrays, she failed to notice the charge building around her own hooves.
At least, not until the trap sprung. Chance screamed in pain and terror as energy surged through her chair, sending her whole body into pained spasms. Blinding light filled the warehouse as every light flashed at once, and Second Chance went tumbling down into the dark.
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YEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!! I KNEW I COULD BELIEVE YOU WHEN YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD WRITE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please tell me that Chance makes it. She has to live to cbat her doppelganger!
Nope, the mane 6 are just so stupid that they couldn't see that if it can make 3 times as much cider Applejack could break even at 33.33333%. If she argued up to closer to 60-80% because she does most of the work by growing the apples and Flim and Flam just sit on their machine so she could be making more than double. Also unless the Apples are retarded, cant do basic math or have exactly the same amount of money going out as they have coming in there is no way that she could loose the farm because of the lack of a one time seasonal produce selling event. It was a perfectly reasonable business offer, Applejack accepted the stupid challenge because shes stupid.
The end result is that I get pissed at them for hating on Flim and Flam every time its brought up ever since I watched this video AntonyC Video Basically everything in this video.
Ah, here comes the Twidash early this time.
Is this that waveform-collapsing anti-alicorn machine?
7196118 from which story is the machine?
7197382 The original version of MLA (downloadable from a link in that story description).
Wow, someone went to a lot of effort and expense just to target Chance. If it's an EMP that's been redirected to attack her specifically, will it wreck her nanophage?
yep
7197739 it sound familiar, now I know why
7199881
I would wait, if only because I intend to overhaul Harmony Defended when this one is over. You could read HD if you want, but you're also going to get spoilers for aspects of how this one is going to end if you do. Just... something to keep in mind.
that is going to levee a mark.
Too bad Dashie hadn't yet met Daring Do. Or Quibble Pants.
Oh come on, we JUST got her nanophage, is an EMP REALLY going to take it out this soon?