23. Handle With Care
Meg flew up to get a birds-eye view of the large pool, squarish and deep. There was an odd, soft, bluish-glow to the water, in which numerous racks were suspended.
“Common Ground, I’d prefer you’d stayed on the floor,” said a senior executive. “You really do not want to risk falling into that pool.”
Being addressed by that name grated on her, but it was better than the alternative. Anyway, he had a point. While her magic bubble ought to provide some protection, there was no point in putting it to the test. She landed next to Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer, a radiation dosimeter dangling from around her neck.
Satisfied, the executive continued the tour. “This is one of our storage pools, where spent fuel rods go. There’s one for each reactor. The water both absorbs the radiation and keeps the pellets from overheating and melting down. After five years, the radioactivity has decayed enough that we can transfer the waste to dry storage casks. That will be our next stop.”
“What causes that glow?” Moondancer asked. “It almost looks magical in origin, but that can’t be the case.”
“Cherenkov radiation,” someone else answered. “It happens when charged subatomic particles, here being emitted as radiation, exceed the speed of light within water.”
The unicorn tilted her head. “I thought exceeding the speed of light was impossible.”
“It is impossible in a vacuum, but light slows down while passing through water.” He shrugged. “You’d have to ask a physicist as to why.”
There were no further questions. The executive pointed in the direction they were to go. “Let’s be on our way.”
In addition to the three ponies and the senior executive, there were also a few technicians and managers. Meg could only speculate on how many of them were present for no other reason than the equines. When she had driven down here a few days ago to arrange this event—so she could bring the other ponies directly to this facility—far fewer people had felt the need to meet with her.
They reached the dry storage casks after several minutes of walking. Before them were all too long rows of cylinders, each twenty feet tall.
The executive laid a hand on a cask. “This is one of the oldest, hence the safest—‘safe’ being a relative term, of course. What you see is a thick, reinforced concrete shell. Inside that is an inner steel lining, and inside that are the spent fuel assemblies. Cooling is by natural air circulation through vents, completely passive and as such immune to power failures.”
He stamped his foot on the floor. “The casks are bolted to a thick steel-reinforced concrete pad to ensure seismic stability. They’re designed to survive just about any natural disaster.”
Sunset walked around the cask, studying it. “Are we supposed to take the entire cask to Equestria? It would need to be unbolted from the floor first.”
A technician spoke up. “We’d rather you didn’t do that. The top can be unbolted and removed, giving access to the contents.”
“Which also removes some of the shielding.” Moondancer removed a large quartz crystal from a saddlebag and placed it on the ground next to the cylinder. She powered it up the modified magic generator with her magic. “Radioactive decay is now suppressed. Shielding is no longer necessary.”
The executive contemplated the faintly glowing crystal. “You don’t know how much I wish that was true.”
Sunset gave him a reassuring smile. “A magical field passively suppress radioactive decay. While we don’t yet have a good theoretical understanding of why it has that effect on the weak nuclear force, there is no disputing that it does.”
“How long before it… runs out of power?”
“It draws power from what little radioactive decay still takes place, so for all intents and purposes, never. In fact, the more radioactive the material, the more power it gets, resulting in a stronger magical field, which strengthens the suppression of the decay. It still needs a spell from a unicorn to get it going, but once started it’s self-sustaining.”
“It really does sound too good to be true.” He continued staring at the crystal. “What if it got separated from any radioactive material?”
“The spell matrix shuts down as the magical field fades away from lack of fuel to sustain it. The services of a unicorn would be required to restart it.”
A technician spoke up. “Could we embed the crystal within the concrete, so it wouldn’t get separated accidentally?”
“I see no reason why not.”
The executive exhaled. “If this works, there won’t be any casks to worry about. Well, only one way to find out. Let’s take the lid off.”
Six electric golf carts appeared before the Gates of Tartarus, next to the Zephyr docked against the ledge. Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. A half-dozen Royal Guards, all unicorns, exited the ship and stood at attention before its entrance. An equal number of other guards continued patrolling the ledge, ignoring the carts and their gawking occupants.
Princess Twilight Sparkle teleported from atop one of the carts and reappeared in front of the guards who had just exited the Zephyr. The humans were getting out of the carts, many not waiting for the step ladder to be deployed. It was annoying; they had a schedule to keep.
She was about to tell them to get back in when she realized what they were doing. The two photographers were taking pictures of the gates, the Zephyr, the Royal Guards, and herself in front of the Royal Guards. Some of the journalists had paired off with the three cameramen to record… their first impressions? She decided she could afford a few minutes.
One such pair approached her. “What can you tell us about this ship?” the journalist asked. She looked up at it. “The E.R.S. Zephyr? Will we be taking it somewhere?”
And those minutes were melting away. “We are already here at the Gates of Tartarus, as you can see.” Twilight made the effort to remain affable. “The ship is how I and the Royal Guards arrived here. We’re hundreds of miles from Ponyville and Canterlot.”
“What does ‘E.R.S.’ stand for?”
“Equestria Royal Ship. The Zephyr belongs to Princess Celestia.”
She motioned to the entrance to Tartarus. “What purpose do those gates serve? It looks like a tank can pass through those bars, with room to spare. How do they prevent escapes?”
“Those gates were designed by Star Swirl the Bearded. I can assure you that, when activated, nothing can pass through them.”
Something caught her attention. A human had tried to enter the airship, but was blocked by a guard. “Sorry,” Twilight said, “but there won’t be any tours of the ship.” Enough time was being wasted as it was.
The pair whose questions she’d been answering shifted their attention to the Royal Guards, the camera panning across them. “Aren’t they all supposed to look the same?”
“No,” Twilight declared. “Reality is not constrained by an animation budget.”
“What about Princess Luna’s guards? Are they all bat ponies?”
With effort, she avoided rolling her eyes. “There’s no such thing as ‘bat ponies.’” One would think the absence of bat ponies from all other contexts would be a clue—the “Flutterbat” incident notwithstanding, of course.
The questions were getting annoying, and they really needed to be on their way. She teleported to where she could address them all, not coincidentally terminating the impromptu interview. “May I have your attention please! We will be going through the Gates of Tartarus now. Please return to the carts—unless you wish to walk.”
Twilight had presented the option of walking as a legitimate option; she would be walking herself, after all, as would the guards. All the humans scampered to retake their seats.
Of the half-dozen guards who had just left the Zephyr, three of them had joined her. They would lead the procession of carts, while the other three would take up the rear.
Once they were all seated, Twilight said, “Please form a single line and follow me.”
She walked up to the gates and turned around. The carts had begun to follow. Each one required a driver; none had been provided, as it had been viewed as a role easily filled by whichever journalists were willing and able to drive one. A cameraman rode shotgun in the lead cart, his camera pointed forwards.
Satisfied, Twilight trotted through the gates and paused halfway to the “throat” at the far end. Ramps had been placed on either side of the gates to make it easier for the wheeled vehicles to drive over the bottom bar. The carts entered the realm of Tartarus, cautiously if without difficulty.
She resumed trotting. As the throat approached, she slowed down, signaling the carts to do likewise. Stopping altogether, she turned around to address them. “You are now in the realm of Tartarus. The gates through which you have just passed mark the boundary between Tartarus and Equestria. I will now take you to Cerberus.”
Twilight took a few steps forward, to where the ground began to curve down into the throat. There had been concern that the curvature was too high, that the middle of the carts would get stuck while the wheels spun uselessly in the air. These carts had been chosen as larger wheels could be mounted, providing sufficient ground clearance despite their longer wheelbase.
“Remember when I said gravity works differently here?” she asked, addressing them once more. “You’re about to experience it. Just keep following me. I promise that the carts will have no problem with this tunnel.”
Twilight and her guards resumed walking, slowly at first. From sound alone she could tell that the carts had begun edging forward, the lead driver trusting his eyes more than her words. Foot by foot they progressed. But no matter how far they went, they remained level, as if moving on top of a gigantic barrel that spun just fast enough in the opposite direction to keep them on top.
Their speed gradually picked up as the “new normal” sunk in. Soon the carts were matching the ponies’ trotting pace, and the cavern they had departed disappeared from view, taking with it any Equestrian sunlight illuminating the entrance to this realm. A reddish-orange light of indeterminate origin took its place.
“Where’s this light coming from?” someone shouted from a cart.
Twilight turned her head behind her the best she could to answer. “It’s a property of this realm. You’ll just have to get used to the color.”
A different voice shouted, “I don’t know how our cameras will handle this.”
It never occurred to her that might be a problem. Fortunately, it was a transient problem. “The press conference will be held inside a building, where the intrinsic ambient lighting can be made whitish.”
That seemed to satisfy them, for there were no more questions. They continued on in silence for several minutes, seemingly going nowhere as they apparently looped multiple times around a huge circle.
Someone finally had to ask it: “How much longer?”
The tunnel began flattening out, opening into another cavern a few hundred feet ahead. “It’s right up ahead,” Twilight said.
No sooner had she said that, a gigantic three-headed dog came charging at them. The drivers all slammed on the brakes. Twilight trotted onwards, her shield already up to protect herself from the coming onslaught of enthusiastic licking.
When they finally met, Cerberus devoted two tongues to his greeting. The third head warily focused on the line of carts and on the humans who were stepping off and pointing cameras at him.
“You’d think you’d be getting tired of me by now,” Twilight said, giggling. She got serious. “Cerberus, pay attention!” She waited until she had the attention of all three heads. “These are all guests. You are to grant them passage, both coming and going. Is that understood?”
The guard dog eyed the humans with three pairs of eyes. He barked an acknowledgement.
“You’re a good dog.”
Cerberus lowered a head to the alicorn, and it was patted in response.
That bit of business having been taken care of, she turned around to address the humans. One of the cameramen had been brave enough to get close to her and the mythological guard dog of Hell. “It’s safe now, but I wouldn’t recommend annoying him.”
Several of the journalists had come closer. One of them asked, “He understands everything we say?”
“Well, he certainly understands everything I say,” Twilight responded with a smile.
She resumed walking. “We need to check in at the guard station next.”
Cerberus walked past her on his longer legs, tail wagging, as he returned to his cot.
“Yes, I know he doesn’t have a serpent’s tail,” she said, anticipating the question. “You need to ask the ancient Greeks about that.”
“How did they know about Cerberus at all, never mind Tartarus itself?”
A microphone was thrust into her face. “I really wish I knew,” was all she could say. Maybe Tirek would enlighten them on that subject—if and when he got what he wanted.
As usual, an armored minotaur came forward to greet Twilight as she left the tunnel. “Your Highness,” he said after bowing. “We are to escort you and your guests to your destination.”
Three others had joined him.
The polite fiction was that they were there to guard them from the theoretical possibility of inmates running loose. The not-so-polite reality was that they were there to guard Tartarus from the perhaps-not-so-theoretical possibility of human misbehavior. Twilight didn’t think it was needed, but so long as the theoretical remained theoretical, the humans need be none the wiser. It wasn’t worth arguing about.
Two cameramen approach along with several journalists. The guards fixated on the cameras on their shoulders. “There’s nothing to worry about,” she quickly informed the guards. “Those are not weapons.”
She turned around to face the humans. “Please keep your distance from the guards. In fact, please return to the golf carts so we may be on our way. And remember that Cerberus is going to gather your scents as you drive past.”
Thankfully, they all did so. The unyielding stare of the minotaurs might have had something to do with that.
A man in a hazmat suit pointed a Geiger counter into the open top of the cask. “Almost nothing,” he said. “Somewhat lower than background.”
“Shouldn’t it be nothing?” asked the executive, looking at Sunset.
“Radiation originating outside the magical field is unaffected,” she said. “My understanding is that a lot of it comes from outer space.”
He signaled to the hydraulic crane operator, saying, “Bring him down,” and returned his attention to the ponies. “Yeah, that sounds right. Regardless, it works. No question, that’ll make our lives much easier. So, what’s the next step? How will you take those fuel assemblies to Equestria?”
Sunset watched as the the crane lowered the basket in which the man was standing. “I guess I go up in that thing and take a look inside myself. I should able to lift the waste telekinetically. Then, all I need to do is return to Equestria with the material in my magical grasp.”
The executive shook his head in disbelief. “As easy as that.”
Sunset smiled. “It should be.”
“You have no idea what this means to us. Even after the power plant shuts down, this stuff won’t be going anywhere. We’d have to look after it, safeguard it, for who knows how many decades.”
“And that’s why this was fast-tracked in the trade negotiations,” Sunset said. “It’s an easy service for us to provide.”
“I’m not complaining,” he replied. “What about the storage pools? That stuff is far nastier.”
“That just makes it more valuable. When I come back, we can move the crystal to the pool and see how well it suppresses its radioactivity. I’d be surprised if it doesn’t do a good job.”
The crane had finished lowering the technician. He left the basket, removed his head protection, and walked over. “I measured it and I still can’t believe it.” He checked a dosimeter on the outside of the hazmat suit. “Nothing.”
Everyone looked at his dosimeter.
The executive exhaled through pursed lips. “Hard to argue with that.” He swept a hand from Sunset to the basket. “By all means, take this nightmare off our hands.”
The procession of golf carts, Royal Guards, minotaur guards, and an alicorn reached the colossal cavern which housed Tirek’s prison. The minotaurs entered the cavern first, followed by Twilight and three of her Royal Guards. The six golf carts entered next, followed by the three other Royal Guards. They headed toward the nearest pillar connecting the “floor” to the “ceiling.”
Twilight turned her head back to address the humans. “Our destination is on the ceiling. We’ll be going up that pillar in front of us. I know that sounds absurd, if not impossible, but that’s how gravity works here. If you would look up, you’ll see what I mean.”
The humans did lookup, leaning out of the carts, and uttered a collective gasp. All the cameramen tried to capture the absurdity of what they were seeing.
They reached the curved ramp at the pillar’s base. The minotaurs did not hesitate. Neither did Twilight, having lost interest in the now-familiar illusion of the cavern rotating about her as she ascended the ramp. Her guards—without hesitation, to their credit—followed their princess.
The golf carts… the whine of their electric motors had stopped.
“Wait a minute,” Twilight called out to the minotaurs. She, the minotaurs, and her own guards all stopped and turned around. The carts were motionless, stuck to what, from the perspective of those on the pillar, was a vertical wall.
That was enough to spur the driver of the lead golf cart. She inched forwards onto the ramp. As it became apparent they weren’t going to slide backwards or tumble off, she picked up speed. Upon seeing the lead cart crawl up the vertical pillar, the other drivers resumed their own forward progress.
“You’re not in any of the episodes, are you?”
One of the technicians was looking at Meg. “No, I wasn’t—not even as a background pony,” she replied back to him.
“How do you feel about being left out?”
She wished Sunset and Moondancer would return already.
Giving a nonchalant shrug, she said, “It doesn’t bother me.”
He wasn’t finished yet. “Is your cutie mark common? I’m pretty sure it’s never been seen in the cartoon.”
“No, it’s not.” She didn’t really care to continue this conversation. “I should get a status update from Sunset Shimmer.”
Meg invoked the return spell before he could ask another question.
She spun around, looking for either Sunset or Moondancer within the abandoned mines below Canterlot—soon to be a laboratory used by both humans and ponies for experimenting with nuclear waste. The light from the few magically-powered crystals installed so far poorly lit the artificial cavern. Another, dim, magical light source from a tunnel caught her eye.
There they were, carefully laying out the spent fuel assemblies against the wall of a side tunnel. The ones yet to be laid down were floating next to Sunset, as they no doubt had been since she removed them from the cask.
Sunset spotted her first. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not really,” Meg said. “They were starting to ask me personal questions I didn’t care to answer. So I said I’d get an update from you.”
“We’re about done here, so wait a minute and we’ll go back with you.”
Moondancer was already grabbing the penultimate assembly. After she carefully laid it down, Sunset laid down the final one.
They left the side tunnel, and Sunset closed the recently installed doors, sealing it off. While the waste’s radioactive nature was not a danger, due to Equestria’s magical field, it was still chemically nasty. Better to be safe than sorry.
Also behind those now-locked doors was their limited supply of plaid pills. Sunset had three of them in her magical grasp. Silently, they each took a pill and swallowed.
They returned to the empty cask. Its lid had been put back on and was being secured.
“Isn’t it safe now?” Sunset asked.
The executive jerked at the unexpected voice. “Ah, you’re back. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” He looked at the re-sealed cask. “It’s safer, much safer, but after decades of exposure, the lining has become slightly radioactive.”
How could they tell? But Meg then noticed the crystal was gone.
“We may want a solution to that too, eventually,” he continued, “but that’s something that can wait until all the spent fuel is out of here.” He had noticed Meg glancing at where the crystal had been. “It’s at the storage pool by now. We had to move it to take the readings.”
“Then let’s head over there,” Sunset said, “and I’ll reactivate it.”
They started walking. “How close does the crystal have to be to the radioactive material? Those assemblies are under a lot of water.”
“Within a few feet is ideal,” she replied. “It can go under water, if necessary.”
“We can attach it to an empty assembly and lower that into position,” someone offered.
“But how close do you need to be in order to activate it?” someone else asked.
Sunset thought it over. “I think I can manage it from the perimeter of the pool.”
“Just so long as there’s no harm in trying,” the executive said.
Several minutes later, they reached the spent fuel storage pool. Sunset went to the perimeter and looked down. “That does look deep—too deep I’m afraid.”
“A bit over two dozen feet to the top of the racks,” a technician said.
“That settles it,” Sunset said. “It’ll have to go under water, and that’s too deep for me to activate it from here. We’ll have to lift one of those assemblies out of the water, attach the crystal, activate it, then lower it again.”
The executive shook his head. “That’s not something we can do on short notice.”
“No problem. Let us know when you’re ready.” She lifted her head and turned around. “We can do two more casks right now.” They only had pills for one more trip.
“Sure,” he said. “This time, let’s do the newest and most radioactive one.”
There were no more unscheduled stops; at the other end of the pillar, no one had even slowed down upon reaching the curved ramp. They all came to a rest in front of a modest building, much longer than it was wide, seemingly extruded from the ground.
“Please wait outside,” Twilight said, “until I return.”
She went to the third door from the right, opened it, and went inside—alone. The guards, both minotaur and her own, would keep the humans outside until they were ready to begin. She quickly closed the door behind her.
A deep voice greeted her. “The time has arrived.”
Tirek stood behind the lectern, facing the rows of empty chairs. His garments were fit for a king—no, surely better than any ancient king had ever worn. However much Rarity despised the tyrant, she couldn’t let her feelings compromise her work. As befitting human sensibilities, everything was covered from front to back.
Four elite minotaur guards were keeping watch over him. Many more were only a shout away.
Twilight approached him. “They’re right outside. Just remember they may ask questions you don’t want asked. You may choose not to answer them, but you have no choice but to tolerate them asking.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” the centaur asked with a smile.
She didn’t care to play this game. “It wouldn’t do for you to return to your realm, only to wind up in a prison there.”
His smile melted away. “Believe me, I understand humans far better than you ever could. Much may have changed, but far more has not.”
He was once human himself, she reminded herself. Even so, she wondered if he appreciated just how much his world had changed. Twilight turned around and walked back to the door. “I’ll bring them in.”
The door opened wide in her magic as she approached. “You may enter and take a seat,” she announced.
Half of them were already out of the golf carts and on their feet. The cameramen had been taking in the surroundings, but quickly pivoted to the door as it opened. Those who were still seated got up. All headed towards the door, and there forward progress halted.
“Please don’t block the door,” Twilight implored, for the sight of the centaur had frozen the first humans in the doorway. “Take a seat.” She walked back towards the lectern.
Tirek laughed heartily. “There is nothing to fear! These fine minotaurs”—he waved a robed arm at the guards, then at the approaching Twilight—”and this enchanting alicorn will see to that. She is more than up to the challenge, as I can personally attest. Please take your seats so that we may begin.”
They did, and as they did, one of them hesitantly approached the lectern holding a wireless microphone, fueling the centaur’s curiosity. “It’s, uh, a device for recording your voice,” the human said. “So that everyone back on Earth will be able to hear you. I just need to place it… uh… there.”
“By all means.”
The human placed the microphone on the lectern, adjusted the angle, and switched it on.
“They will be able to see me too, correct?”
“Yes, through those cameras.” He looked at the microphone and said, “Sound check.”
One of the cameramen gave a thumbs up.
“Fascinating.” Tirek lowered his head to better inspect the microphone, either unaware or not caring that the cameras were watching. “I can’t wait to discover what else humans have accomplished in my absence—and all without the aid of magic!”
He stepped back as the process was repeated with another wireless microphone, this one for Twilight.
Twilight scanned the room. All had entered and taken seats. The three cameramen had positioned themselves: one at either side of the room, closer to the front, and one at the back.
It was time to start.
She spoke into her levitated microphone. “Lord Tirek, who in your realm was once known as Androgeos, the son of King Minos and Queen Pasiphaë, will first give a statement. You will then have the opportunity to ask questions.”
Twilight walked off to the side and watched, along with everyone else, as Tirek approached the lectern.
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Hah! The simplest explanations are the best.
I'm so excited to see what happens next chapter!
By far the most unrealistic thing in this story is not the talking ponies, the magic, interdimensional portals, or mythic creatures, but rather that a) anything nuclear happened without a year of planning, and b) the NRC didn't throw a shitfit.
Gasp! The lack of bat ponies acknowledged!
Yeah, I have to agree. Besides them never really showing up, bat ponies also don't make much sense in regards to Luna's fall.
Huh, magic generators certainly seem like they would make moving radiological materials or devices without detection somewhat easier. I bet security services are starting to sweat about that a little.
9132421
So I guess their original appearance in the show could be explained as regular guards in Nightmare Night costumes.
9133104
Pretty much. This is reinforced by the alternate timeline where Rainbow Dash also has bat wings as Nightmare Moon's guard.
9133104
9132421
Or perhaps there just aren't very many of them around as most of them preferred to stay in Australia. In any case, it's hard to appear on daytime television when your physiology insists on a nocturnal sleep pattern...
.
.
.
Wait, which universe am I commenting on again? I think I may have gotten lost...
9133891
I got that reference!
But canon can or canon won't, they're a fan favourite and won't be going anywhere. Still, I feel sorry for the crystal ponies. They're canon as can be, but so few authors use them in their works.
9134026
Well if you thought thestrals were homebodies... I'm not sure I remember ever seeing a crystal pony leave the empire. Of course, depending on how they interact with the crystal heart, leaving might well be an incredibly unpleasant experience. If I spent any thought on it, I'd probably come up with some explanation for why being outside the empire feels about as bad for them as living in a cloud city would for an earth pony.
Say, on a completely different subject. Your avatar, who is she? And what is she doing? I've never been able to figure it out.
9134035
We do, actually. We've seen them as background ponies in several episodes, especially those in Canterlot. The last one I recall is... A Royal Problem, where Celestia is talking to a visiting crystal pony dignitary in the castle, and Uncommon Bond where a whole gaggle of them get off the train to visit Ponyville.
And the pony in my avatar is Starforge, an earth pony born to a mostly unicorn family in Canterlot. Nothing too dramatic in her background, she just got her great-grandfather Steel Forge's earth pony genes. Growing up among unicorns though made her want to do magic just like her friends, and so she started searching of a way to cast spells and found that she had a talent for artifice, the making magical items. That talent got her to attend Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns and eventually led to her making her circlet, which functions much like a horn and allows her to cast spells. Which is what she's doing in the picture, levitating a pair of hedrons (magic circlet or no, primary her talent is still artifice).
She's my little pride and joy. I haven't written a story with her in it yet, but that's mostly because I haven't found a good core plot for a big story yet. And I don't quite have the art skills to make a shorter comic with just tidbits and snippets.
9134087
Huh, that'll teach me to trust my shoddy memory... ah well, thanks for the jog.
And I must extend my sincere compliments to Starforge, that is an impressive achievement indeed! It's rare to find a pony who even knows what artifice is, let alone one with a Talent in it. Hopefully she can shake up those complacent unicorns.
I swear, a thousand years of peace and they're still treating basic teleportation as an advanced spell...
9106082
Didn't Meg explain to them things didn't happen exactly like in the show? That maybe Tirek isn't a harmless cartoon villain? That turning him into a media star would be the equivalent of doing a parade to a war criminal in Equestrian eyes?
Welp, time to see how this all pans now.