Chapter 9
“I need to change that,” I said, waking to my usual alarm.
—Do you mind if I sleep in? I was up late talking with Sweetie Belle.—
"Of course not. I've already got my plan for the day. You rest up."
I shifted in bed, turned to my side, and heard another ripping sound. I froze with the feeling of fabric tugging on my horn. Tilting my head and sitting up, I saw that NotABug had used one of my guest pillows, one without a pillowcase.
"This can't go on."
Leaving my bed behind, the corpse of another innocent laying bare, I made my way to the shower and stripped out of the comfortable teddy that NotABug seemed insistent on sleeping in. I couldn't blame her—it was comfortable.
"Comfortable enough to get some more. Time to add some things to my list.
Call Twilight about magic
Buy more pillows
Buy more teddies
After pre-running the hot water for a few moments, I slipped into the shower and began my typical morning routine. I ensured I was properly clean—with my hair well-cared for—and soon enough I was withdrawing from the stall.
The stack of towels in my bathroom hamper attested to my need to do the laundry at some point. I took a fresh one from the cupboard and wrapped it around my hair, then another around my body.
One advantage of my dark skin tone was the lack of blemishes. Not that I relied on that—exfoliating was still a daily practice.
Today was a day for black, again. Yesterday had been anger and outrage at a world that would dare not to accept me, but today I was going somber, sad.
Black underwear, supportive but not to show off, with dark hose and a black frock over it. I checked the mirror and found myself practically invisible in the dress. My eyes stood out, along with my hair, but my skin remained shrouded. I was a ghost in mourning of a career that was a zombie.
The morose thoughts sparked an idea for my last day—that would be special. Makeup should have been unneeded, but in my estimation makeup was always needed. I had no black foundation (something I simply must invest in), so I focused on my eyes.
Already the most noticeable part of me, I worked on my eyeliner first. A hint of silver to frame then a few touches of white. Shadow was to be cerulean, no argument there. The deepest red lipstick I had would not be sufficient for the effect I desired, but it would have to do.
I looked at my reflection and those blood-red lips curved in a smile.
Unwrapping my hair, I found curls to be entirely too much. Instead, I worked it completely straight. It had been too long since I sported straight hair; it cascaded in a waterfall down my back and past my rump. Selecting a pair of skewers, I pulled nearly two feet of length of it up and into a holding style.
Black heels, the highest I had, would do the trick. I augmented those at the other end by wearing a large hat with a black veil. Thanks to my horn, the hat jutted at a simply horrible angle. Marking where it met my horn, I measured, quickly sewed a seam, and cut a hole in the brim of the hat.
It was a careful task to get the hat over my horn, but once I avoided the blade it became easier. I looked again at the widow in the mirror and smiled.
"Perfect."
—That's a severe look. I love what you've done with your horn.—
"Good morning. Sleep well?"
I turned slowly, making sure to look in the mirror so NotABug could see what I was wearing. At the end of my turn I struck a little pose.
—I love it.—
I hadn't even realized I'd been keeping part of myself digital until NotABug hugged me. The warmth and love she put into the gentle embrace elevated it beyond anything the physical world could offer.
With her warmth surrounding me, I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a breakfast bar. Daintily, with just my teeth, I took small bites while hugging NotABug and planning the day.
—You know, I think I'll make pocket patches today. I hear pants with colored pockets are very in,— I sent.
NotABug gave an extra little squeeze before letting go.
—Do you plan to do any actual work?— she asked.
—Maybe. Why?—
—Well, I could log you in remotely now, or even sign off on a day of shopping. We have Suri's code.—
As appealing as the thought was, I shook my head.
—After yesterday, I think she would love to catch me doing something wrong. Hrmm, where was that contract?—
NotABug revealed where my contract was stored, and disengaging from the hug, I browsed over it. The contract defaulting clause was all too similar to defaulting on my two weeks notice. I groaned as I carefully nibbled at the last of the bar.
—No dice. If I break any of the contract, we are stuck again. It's fine, darling, with the link to home I can practice splitting my attention, and you can still get things done. Speaking of which, any luck working out what happened with Windigo?— I asked.
—You've been using the server to do everything?—
—Of course.—
—Then you're protected by walls of security. Windigo would have to break through a lot of hardened systems that are bouncing our data around before it could find us, and each one would cause a cascade that makes our server disconnect.—
I carefully put the last morsel of the bar in my mouth, avoiding my lipstick completely. Still early, I decided to finish my outfit elsewhere. Walking for the door, I grabbed a handbag to match my outfit and stuffed my phone, purse, and keys in it. A pack of tissues, some sanitary items, and my portable sewing kit finished up the usual contents.
Connections, NotABug had taught me, happened in stacks. There was a lot of low-level networking things going on that I didn't want to have anything to do with, but there was a handy little thing I could slot in that made everything secure.
I connected my VPN stack and started browsing. Like magic I was connected through our server, and before I even reached the car, I found the right florist for me.
"Canterlot Blooms. How may I help you?"
I was seating myself in the car as the woman's voice came through my internal phone. Activating the car, putting it into reverse, adjusting for the cameras and driving, I entered the conversation.
"Hello there. I was wondering if you had some roses in at the moment?" I asked.
"Of course. Do you have a particular theme in mind?"
Her voice was warm, and the more she spoke about flowers the warmer it got. I couldn't blame her—flowers were wonderful, pretty, and a glorious accompaniment to fashion.
"I'd like a bouquet of white roses with a single pink one. It's for a funeral."
"My condolences. How many did you want in the bouquet? And did you want a card with it?"
I tried to think of a suitable number. I'd been working at Polomare for nearly two years, but two was hardly a bouquet, and twenty three was far too many. Then it hit me.
"Six white, plus the pink rose makes seven."
One white rose for each day of this stupid two weeks' notice—minus the four days of personal leave, anyway.
"We could make that up for you whenever you came in."
—The wonders of technology…— I sent to NotABug.
"I'm on my way now," I said. "Thank you."
"I'll start putting it together now, then. See you soon."
—Roses for a funeral?— NotABug asked.
—Yes, darling. White roses for my innocence lost to this job, pink for grace and appreciation.—
—This calls for a grand gesture. Did you have a plan?—
I pondered for a moment while I pulled onto the florist's street.
—I can't think of anything. What about you?—
A chirp unlike the normal data-flow resounded in my head—it was easily recognizable as an exclamation of excitement and made me smile.
—Walk in slowly, somberly. You want to give Suri time to know you're there. When you reach your cubicle, toss the white roses on the floor and walk over them. The pink rose is for grace, your grace. They can't take that away.—
I almost missed pulling into the parking spot in front of the florist. Climbing from my little car, I ensured my dress was perfect before walking inside—or trying to.
My horn clacked, like the sound two canes made striking together. It struck the lintel of the doorway, and I winced. Ducking my head to lower my horn, I walked into the florist shop.
The smell of flowers was heady and almost overwhelming. It was uplifting, and despite my outfit I felt energized.
"Hold on! I'll be right out!"
I recognized the woman’s voice from the phone call. Not five seconds later she walked out of the back room.
"You just called about a rose bouquet?" she asked. When I nodded, she continued, "It's almost done… I have to ask, why the dress-up? If it's no offense to ask, that is."
"Oh, this?" I asked, one hand reaching up to lightly touch my horn. "The funeral has a theme, you see. Thank you for putting it together on such short notice."
My answer seemed to bewilder her a little, but I saw the slightest shrug to her shoulders as she turned and headed into the back room again. She took just a moment to do something, then came back out clipping the stems of my roses. They were beautiful, and though I wanted to go through with NotABug's plan, the perfection of the flowers stung at my heart.
—I can't destroy these,— I sent.
—They are really pretty. We can always get more,— NotABug said.
I let out a sigh.
"Sorry. Aren't they what you wanted?" the woman asked.
"Oh! No-no! They're perfect. Too perfect to be left to their fate. I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm quitting my job, and they required me to work out the last two weeks. I hate it there, but I have to get this over with. My plan was to toss the white roses at the feet of my boss."
The woman took a deep breath as she absorbed my words. She lay the bouquet on the bench, her chartreuse eyes taking a measure of sadness as her yellow hands tried not to shake.
"You're paying for them, so I can't really—"
"No. I won't mistreat such beautiful blooms. I'll just have to think of another gesture," I said, interrupting her.
She looked up from the flowers, her two-tone raspberry hair tossing behind her in surprise.
"I-I have some lilies. Those are,"—she took a sudden breath—"less fresh."
I reached out my ebony fingers and caught hers. She looked about ready to faint.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
—This is a lot of work to get some flowers to throw at Suri,— NotABug sent.
—Darling, this is art. Acting, props, wardrobe… We absolutely cannot have anything but the best presentation ever.—
—Show off.—
—Always,— I sent.
"They were for another customer who had to cancel. I can put them together for you now. You don't mind the wait?" she asked.
"To give them the life they should have had? Darling, I could wait all day."
My words seemed to perk the woman up—put a spring into her step. I looked around the shop while she clipped the lilies from a bunch that, while still white, looked a little droopy. An idea sparked, and I reached back to the search I'd done earlier.
The florist I'd chosen had been selected partly because it had great ratings and partly because it wasn't a franchise. They were a local business with fresh blooms in stock.
"Do you furnish regular arrangements for businesses?" I asked.
"We do. Do you have something in mind?"
"Still in planning right now, I'm afraid. But after next week I'd love to pay you to take a look at a shop."
Her eyes danced with joy, and I could see her practically swell with excitement. I recognized the same look Frosty Orange had gotten, one I also knew I wore when asked about making a dress. It had nothing to do with expecting payment for a job well done and everything to do with creation.
"Of course we can do that. There'll be no need to pay, though. What sort of shop, and what day?" she asked.
I was talking to an artist. My heart soared in sympathy with the woman's plight to produce beautiful things. She was in a position I wanted to be. We may have spent fifteen minutes talking about flower arrangements—it wasn't like I didn't keep track of time perfectly.
8:22 A.M.
It would take five minutes to get to work from here, which meant I had to wrap up. In less than three minutes I had both bouquets and was back in the car and headed to work.
I now paid more attention to where my horn was—the sound of it hitting the doorway at the florist was still clear in my ears. As I pulled up into the carpark, I reached up and rubbed the side of my horn.
A green glow bathed the car in eerie light.
"W-W-What—?" I asked.
—Sorry! That felt nice, was all.—
There was that soft chirping again, but I suddenly realized something that shocked me: it wasn't NotABug doing it this time. The chirping had cut off suddenly, my own shock silencing it. I reached inward, mentally, but no matter what I tried I couldn't start the sound again.
"It did feel nice. I just worry that I might harm it. You felt when I bumped it in the florist?" I asked.
—Yeah. It felt like you were going to smash through the doorway. I think your horn's harder than it seems.—
I left the car and walked into the building. The lift was the usual ride, and when I got to my floor I reached up and pulled the veil down over my face. The doors dinged and opened to reveal Suri Polomare looking right at me.
"You here already? And what's with the getup today?" Suri asked.
She looked excited, happy—I had to turn the tables as soon as possible.
Hugging both bouquets under one arm, I raised the first to my veiled forehead in a show of mental pain.
"I'm mourning all the time I lost here before I realized how worthless it is to be employed by Polomare Fashion," I said.
Suri's smile cracked a little around the edges. It was a start.
"And what's with the ears and horn again? Or all that makeup? This is a workplace—okay?"
"I guess there's nothing else for it than to write me up, then. Or maybe another manager might. Perhaps I should go down to HR?"
I started to turn back for the lifts.
"Wait. It's your last few weeks here. I'm sure I can relax the dress code for such a wonderful employee," Suri said.
—That wasn't a question,— NotABug sent.
—No, which means she is on edge but still thinking. She has a plan.—
"Very well," I said.
As I took a step toward the time-clock, I tossed a lily out before me and ground my heel into the beautiful flower. Four steps later I repeated the gesture, stomping another flower into the carpet.
"What are you doing?!" Suri said behind me, her voice at shriek levels. "Cleanup for this is—"
"You can't garnish my pay. I guess you'll have to write me up. Until then, I will stomp on my hopes and dreams as Polomare Fashion did."
I could almost hear the steam pouring—metaphorically—from Suri's ears. Another four steps, another lily. I started to log into the time-clock, and as soon as I was done nudged NotABug.
—What are you doing? This is your moment,— NotABug sent as she slid forward.
—Our moment, darling. Have some fun, shine!—
While NotABug typed a little more on the keyboard of the time-clock, I watched the screen change rapidly. Windows opened, files moved, then it all closed back down and looked normal again.
—What did you do?— I asked.
—She will not be able to log back in after lunch. It will look like she did, but Suri will spend the whole afternoon logged out.—
—You're naughty. Tracks hidden?—
—Of course.—
NotABug turned for my cubicle, tossed another lily, and began walking all over it.
I was left to wonder for several moments if NotABug had been affecting my own morality more than I'd been affecting hers. Then I remembered who we were conspiring against and giggled internally.
In moments NotABug was sitting at my desk, setting down our handbag, and laying the roses on the desk beside her.
—This is your job, not mine,— she sent.
Her nudge was gentle but insistent. I slid forward with ease and heard her chirping data before I was completely in charge of my faculties. Reaching for the first pattern of the day, I had a distinct case of déjà vu.
"This is the same pattern from yesterday," I said.
Suri must have been waiting just outside my cubicle. I heard movement and had the feeling of dread come over me that only a boss coming up behind you can bring.
"Yeah. I had to assign you those again. Apparently all your designs yesterday got lost somewhere or something—alright?" Suri said/asked.
I turned in my chair to see Suri Polomare smiling. I let out the slightest sigh from behind my veil. I looked her in the eyes and waited.
—Aren't you going to reply? She's smiling and everything!"— NotABug sent.
—I'm not going to give her the satisfaction. So we wait.—
9:08 A.M.
It wasn't a staring contest, all I did was keep looking at Suri. I was surprised she had the patience she was displaying. If she had been literally anyone else, I would have let her have the satisfaction of winning. Instead, I turned part of my attention online.
—What was the name of that other sushi place?— I asked.
—Uma no Sushi. Here's the reviews about them.—
NotABug sent me a bunch of links that I opened, and together we read through people's reviews. Sadly, it didn't take long.
I was happily working on a new outfit when it happened: Suri had started to move.
The microseconds slowly dragged by—although Suri hadn't actually moved yet, her muscles were bunching and shifting, then her body was in motion.
Even a process as simple as talking had strange new pitfalls when thinking nearly a thousand times faster than usual. As I started forming the first word, I already worked out a better way to say what I wanted to.
"Goodbye, Suri," I said.
I couldn't make out what she said in reply, and I honestly didn't care. Suri had left with a scowl growing on her face and that suited me just fine.
Turning to my work, I looked at the first item: the same poor blouse from yesterday. I wasn't a punk today so ripping the sleeves off wouldn't do. The top was a zombie this time, a diseased corpse of a fashionable shirt that might have been.
Taking out my seamstress' scissors I went to work. First I examined all the pieces of the blouse. A desire to have them not just in my head but in a computer overwhelmed me.
—What would be the best way to scan these pictures?— I asked.
—Phone's camera would be the easiest,— NotABug sent.
—Oh. Of course. Thank you, darling.—
I hugged her briefly and got back to my work. Reaching into my handbag, I took out the fancy new cellphone and held it above the desk. I fumbled to find the right interface and took the picture. Something was wrong, however: the phone didn't make its customary clicking sound.
Confusion set in when examining the mobile phone revealed no photograph had been taken. I searched again, digitally this time. There were two photos of the desk, but they were from an odd angle.
—I don't think it worked. See?— I asked and sent NotABug a link to the pictures.
—Rarity, those pictures are on the internal phone. How did you take those?—
—Like this.—
Just like before, I held the phone up, reached for the interface, and was about to take the photo when NotABug interrupted.
—That's the internal phone. These pictures are from the internal phone!—
I held my hand up before my face, examined the ebony skin, and tapped the interface.
—Your eyes. That's impossible! How can anything like that work?— NotABug asked.
Call Twilight about magic and phone camera
Buy more pillows
Buy more teddies
—I guess I could call her now. On second thought I should text her first.—
—We're going shopping?— NotABug asked.
—Yes. One teddy was fine as something to wear sometimes, but if you want to wear them each night we will have to get more.—
The ringing chirps of NotABug's excitement echoed in my head. Another chirp joined hers: mine.
—That was you!— NotABug sent. —You just chirped!—
—This isn't the first time. You just didn't notice me doing it because you were too busy chirping.—
Chirping was apparently the default way to show emotion for whatever it was we were becoming, because we both chirped more.
—If I was going through this without you, I don't think I'd be able to cope. You are a treasure, NotABug,— I sent.
Her reply came with a stifling of her chirps.
—You wouldn't be going through this if I wasn't here.—
I hugged her again and focused on my warm feelings.
—You're right. I wouldn't have realized I was dying, creatively. I probably would have gone looking for more and more wild ways to escape my horrible job, and possibly gotten involved in something much worse. You made my life interesting, and you freed me from a cage I didn't know I was in.—
NotABug's chirping resumed more softly than before. We remained like that, hugging and ignoring everything the world tried to throw at us.
—I want you to teach me something a little more advanced. I want to learn how to make those clever little programs.—
The chirping in my head got louder, and I couldn't help but match it.
—Okay. The first thing you need to understand is the processing system. The easiest way to teach you is on the server,— NotABug sent.
—Hold on, darling. I need to send a message to Twilight.—
—I don't suppose you are free to talk?— I sent to Twilight.
I followed NotABug's perception through the VPN link to our server. In the time it took Twilight to respond, I'd learned about if-then, for-while-do, and the structure of basic programs on Intel architecture. I'd also cut nearly five large hearts from the blouse pattern, and another four from the back.
Today was a heart day.
—I'm taking an undergrad study group in an hour. What's up?— Twilight sent.
I dialed her number and she answered it right away.
"Oh. Thank goodness. We need to talk about a little incident involving magic and, well, me," I said.
"Magic? You mean besides the AI that took up residence in your head?" Twilight said, her voice loaded with sarcasm. "What exactly has happened?"
I took a deep breath—not that I needed it when talking directly through a voice synthesizer, but it made me feel better.
"I might be turning into something else. You remember what—"
"Rarity," Twilight said, cutting in, "this better not be some kind of fashion joke."
Holding the new mobile phone up, I made sure I was poking its interface this time and took a photo with the front-facing camera. I sent that to Twilight.
"You have a message. Please check it," I said.
Background computer noise started coming through the phone from Twilight's end. Then a notification came up saying Twilight wanted to engage video chat.
"Darling, I can't exactly do video chat on this phone," I said.
"But didn't you get that new one? It was top of the range!"
"That has more to do with the magic problem than you will probably believe. I am using the mobile phone that absorbed into me."
There was enough of a pause that I got bored and reached for the next pattern. More hearts. All the hearts. I wonder how many hearts I could make?
"So… You're just speaking out loud and it records it? And you can hear me? How does this even work?" Twilight asked.
"Well, NotABug helped me learn how to interface with the phone. So right now I am making patterns of sound and pushing them into the… buffer?"
—Yes, buffer,— NotABug sent.
"Right," I said in confirmation, "the buffer. It's a little tricky to sound just right, and more so to put emotion into it, but I practiced by listening to my voice and analyzing the buffer."
—Thank you, dear,— I sent.
"How… What… Okay. You're right. We really need to talk about this. When is good for you?" Twilight asked.
"Some quick things I need to tell you first. No shaving. No electrodes. No arcing-electric things."
I tried to think of anything else, but I think I got all the ones Twilight would spring on me.
"How am I going to take measurements?" Twilight asked, her voice forlorn.
"Anything that doesn't touch me or interact with me is fine. I don't want to risk hurting NotABug, or damaging our internal mobile phone. Tomorrow afternoon would be a good time. After lunch?"
"Sure! I can have the lab set up with everything I'll need."
I groaned, although thankfully Twilight couldn't hear that. While I chatted with Twilight, I kept cutting. Hearts, hearts, hearts.
"I'll call you around two. Thank you, Twilight."
"No problems, Rarity."
I ended the call and turned my attention to NotABug and her lessons. Programs were nothing like dresses in function, but they shared a few aspects with dressmaking: you had to plan things out in advance, there was so many ways to do everything that it was an art-form to assemble them, and there was an almost dizzying feeling of delight when everything came together.
12:03 P.M.
Surfacing fully from the digital world, I found the stack of love hearts neatly where I'd put each one, while nearly two-thirds of the stack of patterns were rendered down. I ran one hand through the poor patterns and set a single white lily on them.
I juggled walking to the time-clock with bringing up directions for Uma no Sushi, and I took my bag and flowers with me. The poor blooms might wilt in the car, but it would be a more noble death for them than leaving the poor things to Suri's efforts here.
—Is the time-clock still rigged?— I asked.
—Yup. Suri will think she is logged in, but the machine won't accept her.—
After logging out I wasn't going to wait around for Suri to spoil my lunch hour. I took the lift down and walked out to my car. My wonderful little car. It unlocked and started up before I reached it. I was quite proud of my efforts at interacting in both worlds at once.
I pulled out and began the drive. My mentally knowing directions wasn't needed anymore, I merely had to put the destination into the phone's GPS app, and the image came up in my head. All in all, it took eight of my precious sixty-minute lunch break to reach Uma no Sushi.
The building had a small profile, but the windows were clear and uncluttered so I could see that it extended back a lot further. I pulled up at the curb, set my hat and veil aside in the car, and climbed out.
—It doesn't look like much,— NotABug sent.
—The last place was very flashy, but accomplished little. I'll take subtle decor when it's the food we're after.—
My own words surprised me a little. Normally I would have been praising fashion-forward furnishings over the minimalist look of the restaurant before me. I took and let out a breath, and opened the door.
The place had three customers—each had a plate of food before them that wasn't just appetizing, it was artistic. I was distracted by the perfect, round, and black-rimmed circles. Some had a single piece of meat in the middle of their ricy interior, others seemed to have tiny pink balls atop them.
The smell of fish was not present, as I would have thought it should be given the nature of the food. Despite my previous experience, or perhaps because of it, this felt right—authentic. The only problem was I had no idea how to approach. The chef stood behind the counter making what I assumed was sushi, his hands moving in repeated and precise ways that spoke of experience.
Of himself, the chef was a thin man with arctic-blue complexion and navy-blue hair. He looked to be of middle age, though he carried it well. He had a small white hat that only revealed his hair color at the back and sides of his head, and completed the stark outfit with a white shirt under a white jacket. His eyes didn't leave his work.
A similarly attired woman walked past the chef and approached the counter closest to me.
"Hello and welcome to Uma no Sushi. My name is Kitsune Udon. What can I help you with?" she asked.
The woman looked a little younger that myself but only a year or so. Like the man she had fabulously arctic-blue skin, but unlike him she had a blaze of red hair that looked to be in a net that held it up and under her hat.
Smiling—the greeting was a lot more friendly than what I'd gotten at the last place—I decided to be honest.
"Well, I'd never had sushi before, and I wanted to try some yesterday. I made the distinct mistake of visiting—" I said.
I stopped short at the woman's look of anger. Lifting one eyebrow, I asked a question without needing a word.
"Sushi Garden?" she asked. At my nod she continued. "If you went there for lunch, you would have had their waitress making the food. Their chef only works at night. When he's there, the sushi is much better."
She hadn't disparaged them with a single word. Everything the woman said seemed to be fact and gelled with my experience. I found myself relaxing a little.
"It would have been nice if they'd told me that. Do you have a table free?" I asked.
She gestured to the stools along the bar that overlooked what the chef was doing.
"Please take a seat and my father, Chef Soba Tsuya, will be with you," she said.
A touch of confusion hit me—I thought the stools were where you waited. It might be a faux pas, but I would rather ask than try to pretend I knew what was going on. I could act, sure, but I needed background to do it.
I walked over to the indicated stools and took a seat. The chef seemed busy finishing off a dish for someone else, so I waited patiently.
—They don't have any Wi-Fi. I can't see any security cameras. The only thing that looks like it was made this century is their card reader,— NotABug said.
—So what you're saying, darling, is that they are secure against your feminine wiles?—
I got a little burst of chirping in reply.
The chef turned toward me. He was intense, but I was used to such. Growing up with people who can transform, use magic, or fly had taught me how to just be calm and deal with the experience—assuming they weren't ruining their outfits in the process.
"Irasshaimase," he said. "Welcome to Uma no Sushi. How may I serve?"
"I'm new to this style of dining. What would you suggest?" I asked.
The man was already smiling, but now his smile could have parted clouds. He beamed at me.
"The best way to be introduced to sushi is with omakase. I will personally tailor your meal to suit your palate. When you are full, you tell me and pay for what you've eaten. I will warn you, our sushi is not low priced," he said, his English perfect and without accent.
—Omakase is exactly what he said. He will make things, then he will ask for a little feedback, and use that as a guide for the next piece,— NotABug said.
"That does sound good. Please tell me the best way to appreciate your food."
I noticed the man's nose twitch—just once.
"It is customary not to wear perfume when eating sushi. Your scent is neutral, and barely noticeable, but it will color your and other people's experience. When you come back, I ask you to forgo any scents," he said. "Before we begin, my name is Chef Soba Tsuya, please just call me Chef Soba."
Taken aback by his bold statement, I could only nod to him. Of course I would check on all this later, but for now there was no fixing it.
"Thank you, Chef Soba. My name's Rarity."
While I spoke, Soba's hands were working. He shaped about a third of a palmful of rice, his hands moving in a well-trained order of movements. He set the rice on the bench and then drew out a fillet of fish. Using a knife that looked right out of a martial arts movie Rainbow Dash would certainly watch, Soba cut a delicate slice of the red-pink fish.
Every motion resulted in another quick clean of his knife and/or hands. Soba added a tiny smear of green to the fish, then pressed it to the rice with more of those careful motions. He placed the piece on a small plate, added a small mound of some kind of thin-sliced substance, and passed it over to me.
"Eat the nigiri first, tell me how it tastes, then clear your palate with the provided ginger," Soba said.
I looked at the morsel. This was the reason I was here: to try something the right way.
"Should I use chopsticks?" I asked.
"No. Turn the nigiri upside down in your hand so the fish touches your tongue first."
With a nod I did just that. The flavor was immediate and fantastic. Salmon in its purest form. I chewed at the fish in my mouth, completely forgetting the raw nature of the food. A spicy kick came in after my second chew, and washed a new and intense flavor over the fish and rice. The chef had crafted a Broadway show with such simple ingredients, and the way the flavors played off each other was fantastic.
I savored every flavor as it played out and experienced a range of emotions that started in joy and ended in pure desire—for more. When the last of the piece slipped down my throat, I let out a beatific sigh.
"That was divine. I've never tasted salmon like that, and the spice in the middle was fantastic!" I said.
Soba looked at me with a knowing smile. Then he nodded.
"I believe I will be seeing you often. The next piece will be similar—another nigiri," Soba said.
He began working more rice, then pulled out two shrimp and began to slice and prepare them. Every movement he made, when dealing with the food, looked like it had been choreographed. Each cut, each pressing motion with his hand. Before I forgot, I picked up a little of the ginger with my fingers and put it in my mouth.
It was pickled, but while the ginger flavor washed the taste of the lovely sushi from my palate, the moment I swallowed, it too seemed to fade.
Another little plate. This one had another little piece of ginger, but the nigiri (which was apparently the word I was meant to use) had two shrimp on it this time—complete with tails.
"Please, eat this. All the prawn is edible," Soba said.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that he meant the tails. I picked up the piece, inverted it, and set it in my mouth. Another flavorsplosion happened, and I actually might have made an excited and very girly sound as my tongue explored the taste.
I kept chewing—even the tails, which were indeed edible—exploring new combinations of flavor with every motion of my tongue. The tastes were delicate and ever-shifting—I almost didn't want to swallow. But I did.
Closing my eyes, I remembered the interplay of flavor.
"The shrimp—" I said.
"Prawn. There is a difference," Soba said, cutting me off.
I nodded.
"The prawn had a range of flavor that changed depending on where it was tasted. You applied the spice to the whole length, in different quantities, so that it matched the meat. It was most pleasing," I said.
I opened my eyes to see Soba smiling at me. Though this was meant to be a test of my palate, part of me realized my score would go on record. Why did I feel like I was on trial?
12:26 P.M.
"You have a fine palate for this. Time for something a little finer."
It was like getting an A+ on a report card—Twilight would love this place.
The next piece he made started with the rice, but this time he put the dob of green stuff on it directly. Then he wrapped it around with a piece of seaweed, and then the most startling thing. Tiny little orange balls were dished on with a small spoon.
I barely remembered to use some ginger before he served up the little roll.
"Salmon roe. Other things can be added to neutralize some of the more intense flavor, but I'd rather see how you like it as-is," Soba said.
—Salmon roe is fish eggs. For sushi, it is normally soaked in soy sauce and rice wine. I found a site that has all this great info!— NotABug sent.
—Thank you dear. How are you enjoying it?—
—It's really good. I want to bring Rainbow Dash here. Do you think she'll like it?—
—I think Soba would be able to find things she likes,— I sent.
Lifting the little roll, I glanced up to Soba.
"You don't invert this one," he said.
I put the roll in my mouth and the first thing that hit my palate was the salt of the seaweed. As I bit down the seaweed snapped between my teeth and cause the roe to spill out onto my tongue. Combined with the new texture of the roe was the intense flavor of salmon—more intense even than the salmon flesh.
Closing my eyes in gastronomical delight, I slowly chewed the delicacy and wallowed in the perfection of the intense flavor. Behind it all, though, was the spice of the green paste Soba had used.
It wasn't until I swallowed the roll that I opened my eyes again. I looked at Soba Tsuya with newfound respect.
"Salty, crunchy. When I bit through the seaweed—" I said.
"Nori. The seaweed is called nori," Soba said.
I tipped my head a little, accepting the correction.
"When I bit through the nori I felt the texture of the roe before the flavor: smooth. Then the flavor reached my brain and I melted into it. That was amazing."
"This is salmon. Ikura is the name of the roe. You tasted the wasabi?" he asked.
"The spice?" I asked back, and got a nod. "Of course. It added a little heat, but expanded the flavor of the ikura further. That was very nice."
12:38 P.M.
—It's getting late. But there's probably time for one more,— NotABug said.
I heard a little chirping from NotABug while I reached for the ginger.
"Sorry, but I'll only have time for one more. Against my fervent desire, I need to return to work," I said.
Soba looked at me, and I felt like he stared through me completely and saw the source of pain and misery in my life.
"Why don't you quit?" he asked.
I couldn't help the short laugh that escaped.
"I have. I was required to work the last two weeks of employment or face restrictions in my future endeavors. Today marks the end of the first week, hence the funeral dress," I said.
"Something special, then? You have a good palate, so this will not be a waste."
He turned to the fish tank and reached into it. It was then I realized there were no actual fish in the tank, but he seemed to find what he was looking for. When he turned around, Soba held up a small shellfish for me to see.
"This is an abalone, awabi. Shake, salmon, is a common fish, and its roe is only a little less so. Awabi is delicate, prized. It will have a little crunch to it," Soba said.
His hands worked their magic, shaping the rice, adding a tiny dot of green wasabi, and then he started on the abalone—awabi. Taking a small knife, Soba cut around and carefully separated the shell from the creature within.
More work of his knife soon freed all the little black pieces of the awabi, and I could already smell a difference in the air. This was a lot stronger than anything else he'd served so far. I watched him finish trimming the awabi, slice into but not through it, and set it on the rice. Back into his hand it went, for one, two, three special motions—each eliciting a slight crunching sound from the meat.
He plated the nigiri and passed the plate to me with a serious expression. I took the sushi between my fingers and lifted it to my mouth. At the last moment I turned it over and ate it.
The flavor was strong, a little like an oyster but more-so. I surely felt the crunchy texture as I chewed, and the wasabi was almost a quenching flavor, pulling my palate back from the edge of shellfishgeddon. I didn't want to finish the piece, but there is a moment with every mouthful of food when the chewing is done. The awabi and rice slid down my throat and I heard myself make a satisfied little sound.
I didn't speak for nearly a minute. With no ginger my palate retained the flavor and spice of the last piece.
"That was superb," I said at last.
—Food is amazing! This tastes almost as good as Rainbow Dash!— NotABug sent.
Her comment reminded me she'd said such things in the past, but I'd been too busy, tired, or distracted to process them.
—What do you mean, 'taste'?— I asked.
—Whenever Rainbow Dash is near, and she looks at either of us, there is a rising rush of richness. You try it next time we see her.—
—Oh, I remember something we needed. Your credit card numbers. We need actual cards for those.—
—Already arranged. I purchased a P.O. box two days ago, and got five different cards sent to it. Also, some packages. Some of the things should have arrived. Can we pick them up after work?—
—Of course. I'll keep using my card until then.—
"Now you have experienced a small taste of sushi. Did you enjoy it?" Soba Tsuya asked.
"Not only did I enjoy it, but I think you might have yourself a regular customer," I said. "Thank you so much, that was an unforgettable lunch."
I got up and walked to the register. After a short moment, the woman came out and—after a short burst of what had to be Japanese with Soba—turned to me.
"That will be sixty dollars," she said.
—I guess that's why it tasted so good,— NotABug sent.
—That was for just four things,— I sent.
—Well, if I pay for it, can we have that every day?—
NotABug's question floored me, though thanks to time running so slow my face showed none of my shock. Given better timing, we might have been able to have more.
—We can have it frequently, but I still want to have other things,— I sent.
—There's other things that taste as good as this?!—
—I'll admit this was amazing, but we can always go looking for more.—
—Okay. But if you can't find anything, come here.—
I reluctantly took out my card and swiped it when told to. Kitsune finished plugging in numbers on the keypad, and it beeped happily.
"We hope you'll come again," she said.
"Apparently this is where I have lunch from now on, unless I'm too busy to actually enjoy it," I said.
Kitsune laughed politely, and we said our goodbyes.
The taste of the awabi lingered, and even when I parked my car and entered the building at Polomare Fashion it was still with me. I approached the time-clock and logged back in. Upon reaching my desk I found the stack of patterns renewed—my love hearts were nowhere to be seen.
—She's trying to break me. Repetitive tasks with no goal in sight. She's missing something, though,— I sent.
—She's missing a few things. You don't care about the patterns, you don't care about finishing them on time, and you are no more constrained to this location than your car is the parking lot,— NotABug sent.
—That was a lovely metaphor, and completely accurate. I think it will be stars for the afternoon.—
We both chirped together, though my hands started on the blouse again, but again they did hearts. The taste of the awabi faded eventually, as did the time left in the afternoon. Meanwhile, I spent the time Suri thought I would be wasting learning more programming from NotABug.
5:30 P.M.
Mandatory overtime was no longer something I cared for. I'd rendered almost all the patterns to hearts and learned the glorious advantages of libraries and APIs.
—Is it okay if Rainbow Dash comes over to play games?— NotABug asked.
I began the slow (given that I was still partly in the digital world, everything in the real one was slow) rise to leave.
—Of course, dear. Remember, we are doing some shopping first,— I sent.
—Perfect! We can meet up at the mall.—
Rainbow Dash had become a bigger part of my life lately and was about to become more so. For that matter, having NotABug be literally part of me was incredibly invasive on my former solitary life. Weekends had been when I encountered others, now I had a friend with me from the moment I woke to when I lost consciousness at night.
As I approached the time-clock, I could see Suri getting annoyed at it. I quickly revised my opinion of her from annoyed to furious.
"No, you stupid machine, I'm already logged in!" Suri said.
—Aww. It's not the clock's fault. Why is she so angry with it?— NotABug asked.
—Because you made her not be logged in most of the day?—
—Oh, yeah.—
We shared some chirping together. I managed to see that Suri was checking the system logs.
"Are you going to be much longer? I guess I could go to HR and log out there," I said.
"You!" Suri said and spun around. "You did this!"
"Me?"
"Yes!"
I backed away from Suri as an accusing finger of hers jabbed in my direction.
"You did this. You logged me out after I logged in from lunch, I know it!" Suri said.
By now, she was clearly a little unhinged—she wasn't even speaking in questions. I took another step backwards to dodge her repeated poking in my direction.
"Look, Suri, I didn't touch the thing. Is there a chance you misclicked something when you logged in?" I asked.
Something like ice-water seemed to hit Suri's rage. She pulled her arm back and just glared at me.
"You still have one week here, Rarity. I'm going to make that the worst week of your life."
"No you're not," I said, my own annoyance growing too far. "The first week I was here? That was the worst week of my life. Every week since then,"—I said, stalking toward Suri—"has been a new 'worst week of my life.'"
I gestured for her to move to the side, and she did. Stepping to the time-clock, I punched out.
"Next week? Next week is the beginning of my real life. Next week is the best week of my life. I will count the hours, minutes, and seconds until I can never look at your face again," I said and turned. "Suri Polomare, you couldn't make me have a bad day if you put your entire mind to it."
I completely ignored her utter silence as I walked to the lifts and, having one arrive just as I reached them, made my way to my car.
—You actually got angry,— NotABug sent.
—I did. I'm not proud of it, but I couldn't listen to her crow any longer. It was her or me.—
Climbing into the car, I started it and was already shifting it to reverse as I pulled on my seat belt. Both cameras came to life, and I reversed the moment my hands were on the wheel.
The drive to the mall wasn't long, and I definitely didn't need to set up the GPS. Getting a space at the mall wasn't the easiest on a Friday evening, but at least I could safely get into a spot thanks to my cameras.
Climbing out of the car, I didn't even see the blue blur until Rainbow Dash was right in front of me. To my surprise she stopped and stepped back.
"Sorry, Rarity. I thought you were someone else," Rainbow Dash said.
We both gently prodded at the same time, chirped at each other, and I slid behind while NotABug not only moved forward metaphorically but also physically. Rainbow Dash barely caught her as NotABug jumped into a hug.
NotABug's idea from earlier came back to me, and I focused on what should have been taste. Sure enough there was a spicy, agreeable flavor. It was so startling that I'm sure I must have chirped.
—She tastes a little spicy, and really sweet. Is that what you got?— I asked.
—Busy snuggling, but yes, really sweet.—
—You have some shopping of your own to do?—
—Yup! As soon as we go to the post office. They said they needed ID, but would open the PO box for a week in advance.—
—I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need me for anything.—
I'd like to say that the feeling of being hugged by Rainbow Dash didn't affect me at all, but it was nice. So I withdrew to the digital world, opened a VPN to home, and started designing Monday's outfit. Only there was one teeny, tiny problem—I could still feel NotABug and Rainbow Dash hugging and sharing a kiss.
It wasn't too distracting, but feeling my lips pressed to another's, feeling NotABug hugging and pressed to Rainbow Dash… If there was a digital equivalent of a cool shower, I would like it now—please.
Despite the slowness of the real world, I felt NotABug and Rainbow Dash finish their little snuggle and start chatting. They began talking about games, toys, and all sorts of things I wasn't overly interested in.
—Darling, I hope I'm not interrupting?— I asked.
—Never!— NotABug sent.
—I can't seem to block out what you're feeling. Is it the same for you?—
—I've never been able to block sensations out without sleeping. You could take a nap?—
—But there are things to plan for. Although a nap does sound good.—
Without a body that needs to be coaxed to sleep more so than my own thoughts, it was surprisingly easy to just relax into sleep—so I did.
I dreamt while I slept. Dreams of machines, programming, NotABug, and chirping. Good dreams. Polomare Fashion was some kind of monster, NotABug was helping me fight it off with our army of robots wearing the most fabulous dresses.
We won, of course, and I kissed NotABug and our army of mechanical fashion models took the world by storm.
—Rarity, we have the things we wanted.— NotABug sent.
I mentally stretched out and was fed all the sensations a person would feel if they were sitting at a table drinking coffee—it was just a little strange to wake up to that.
—Thank you, darling. Some things for home are in order, as well as some new underwear. Was there something in that department you wanted to get to show off to Rainbow?— I asked.
—Should I? I don't think we're really that far along yet. I like cuddling, but I don't want to go too fast.—
—Good for you. I know Rainbow might seem a little forward (she almost had me saying yes at one point), but it's you who gets to decide what happens with your body.—
—It's your body too, and first.—
—Thank you, dear.—
I'd only just sent the last message when I felt her nudge. Sitting down meant the slide into control was smooth, but I felt Rainbow Dash's arm slide from my shoulders. I turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.
"It's pretty easy to tell when you know what to look for," Rainbow Dash said.
"I guess. What do you notice?" I asked.
I was intrigued to know, actually. If we ever needed to pretend we were each other, it would be best if we knew the other's little differences.
—You're listening?— I asked.
—Yup!— NotABug replied.
"Well, NotABug slouches a little. Not like just anyone would notice, but I've got a pretty good eye for physical movement. You also tend to look around with your eyes a little more," Rainbow Dash said.
It was surprising to hear such accurate descriptions from Rainbow. She had never struck me as someone who would notice such things. A minor revelation hit me: of course she's taking notice, best friend and girlfriend in same body, of course she doesn't want to mix us up.
"Thank you, darling. Now then. What was the first thing on my list…" I said, my lips curling upward. "Oh, right, new lingerie."
Normally I wouldn't say such a term for it, but Rainbow Dash had been nothing if not on her best behavior and deserved a little reward. Besides, it was just us girls here anyway. With all my focus on the real world, my sense of time was moving at breakneck speed.
6:37 P.M.
"Wait. Really?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Normally I'd wear a nice oversize shirt, but NotABug seems to prefer teddies. I must admit I've started to become partial to them myself."
The look Rainbow Dash gave me was a firm reminder that she was interested in what both of us wore to sleep as well. Then an idea struck me.
"You're going to be working at my boutique," I said, earning a mute nod from Rainbow Dash. "Well, it wouldn't do for you not to look your best. I think you'll need to buy some things too."
"What? Girl stuff?"
"Yes. Girl stuff. I know NotABug hasn't seen, but I vividly remember when you got too drunk at Fluttershy and Maud's ceremony and, later on—"
"Alright!" Rainbow Dash said. "So what do I need?"
She leaned back a bit, displaying her tomboyish figure. While everyone else had gained curves and mounds, Rainbow Dash had worked her body for tone and hadn't become gifted in the chest.
"Push-up bras. Panties. Stockings and garters," I said and held up a hand to forstall her inevitable interruption. "And shoes."
She looked about ready to rebel when I mentioned shoes. I reached a hand out and put my forefinger under her chin and lifted.
"Rainbow Dash, you didn't think I'd let you work in a fashion boutique wearing runners, jeans, a sports bra, and a shirt, did you?" I asked.
—This will be more fun than what we did already!— NotABug sent.
—Careful. Rainbow has a lot of pride. She's proud of who she is and how she looks. We just need to expand onto the side of that. Make her proud to look beautiful.—
—How do we do that?—
—Admiration, darling. Admiration. I want you to text her with exactly what you think of her.—
—You're going to work magic, aren't you?— NotABug asked.
—When fashion is involved? I don't need magic.—
"I guess. But you're going to go over the top, aren't you?" Rainbow Dash asked.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. A rich coffee flavor with none of the trappings of a usual "coffee drink" met my palate. I remembered back to the compliments from Soba Tsuya, and staunchly reminded myself that I need to treat my palate, not bath it in horrible foods.
"I am going to make sure you have enough outfits so that customers will see what you're wearing and want to buy it," I said, then leaned a little closer to Rainbow. "I will make sure that everyone will be jealous of NotABug, got it?"
Mention of NotABug's name did the trick. Rainbow Dash's eyes lit with internal fire, her expression hardened, and she nodded.
"She'll be watching, you know, while we pick things out. I hope you don't mind if I let her help?" I asked.
Buying underthings went as well as I could have hoped. It was a simple process of her picking out teddies for us to wear and me picking out things for her. At the end, with bags and bags of things between us, I went to pay and opened my purse.
—Those two cards have a lot of money on them. Use them as much as you want, but try not to tie them to our home,— NotABug said.
—Thank you, dear.—
I pulled out the first, a MasterCard with a business name on it. I reached out with it and slid it through the machine in the lingerie shop. It beeped happily and wanted a pin number.
—4 4 1 4,— NotABug sent.
Punching the numbers yielded another beep and a big smile from the assistant.
"Pillows next. I can't stand what it's doing to them, but until I have something that can help with my horn, I need at least one per night," I said.
"I guess it's pretty sharp?" Rainbow Dash asked.
Stopping, I tilted my head carefully. The touch of Rainbow's fingers on my horn was odd. The first contact felt like a little lightning strike in my head, and her digit tracing the less-sharp curves almost had me squirming.
"Is that sensitive, Rarity?" Rainbow Dash asked.
I would have nodded or jerked my head back, but either could have hurt Rainbow Dash's hand.
"Yes, just a touch. Please let go."
The moment I asked, Rainbow Dash complied. I tilted my head back up and felt a tick of relief at my horn being free again. Something remained, however. The tiny spark from her touch tingled in my horn.
"Let's get these pillows and head home. NotABug said we should order something tasty," Rainbow Dash said. "She mentioned you had something good for lunch?"
A bounce entered my step as the memories of lunch returned.
"Sushi," I said. "It was amazing, Rainbow. You wouldn't believe how good it tastes. We'll have to go some time."
"Isn't that, like, raw fish?"
"It isn't just raw fish. It is heaven on a plate, darling."
Over the course of buying a dozen pillows that were—thankfully—vacuum packed, we discussed the joys of eating sushi. It was more a point of me telling her the joys while Rainbow looked at me with evident skepticism.
As I settled into my car to drive home, I thought back to what NotABug had said.
—What's wrong with the credit cards?— I asked.
—I have found evidence that Windigo is still searching. They tried to poke around the NYSE and set off some kind of alarm on their servers. I really like the big servers there, they only let people play by the rules.—
—NYSE?—
—New York Stock Exchange. It's where some of the little AI I talk to live. But I've always played by the rules there, they let me connect without a problem.—
—But you're worried Windigo might find something to connect to us?—
I turned the car on, activated the cameras, and began to roll out of the car park. The squeal of tires and a revving engine told me Rainbow Dash was doing the same in her own car.
—It's better to be safe than sorry. I don't think Windigo could get our details from the NYSE. If they do, however, they can trace the account numbers, and trace those to these cards. I paid extra at the post office, the listing for our P.O. box is private.—
Thinking on the problem, I realized this could impact my shop's development. I didn't reply until I was pulling into my driveway.
—What we need is buffers. Addresses leading to addresses. Like the VPN is for internet,— I sent.
—That's what the P.O. box is for. Speaking of it, some other goodies arrived. Routers, modems, and cameras.—
I could hear the roar of Rainbow Dash's car pulling into the street. Climbing out of my own car, I started pulling out bags of things while Rainbow pulled up at the curb.
NotABug wasn't lying. For a second I wondered how she fit so much stuff in the trunk of my little car, but then I remembered how logically she could work sometimes. Rainbow Dash helped, and by the fourth trip we were done getting all the things inside.
"You order food while I set the game up. This is going to be awesome!" Rainbow Dash said.
I smiled, and my head was full of chirping—it was good to see Rainbow so happy. While Rainbow Dash produced a gaming console from a box, I searched around for good home-delivered Chinese food.
—You should give her the earpiece you wore to pretend to talk to me. Then we could both talk to her at the same time,— NotABug sent.
While I searched for the earpiece, I called our order through to the restaurant and was told it would be a bit over half an hour.
"Here, put this in," I said, passing the earpiece to Rainbow Dash. "With that we can all talk at the same time."
"Wait. What?" Rainbow Dash asked, but followed my instructions.
Rainbow's eyes went wide the moment it was in. I reached for NotABug, and she showed me a buffer to connect to."
"… kiss you until— Oh, Rarity connected. Hi Rarity!" NotABug said.
Arranging data to go into the same buffer, I quickly organized things so I could talk through it too.
"This will be delightful. We can both say things and she won't be able to tell us apart," I said though the interface.
"Rarity," Rainbow Dash said, "I can totally tell the difference between you. In person or like this—you're both different people."
I swapped back to using my normal voice since my ruse failed.
"You want to hug her a lot don't you, darling?" I asked aloud.
NotABug pushed gently, and I let her flow up and take control. I guess that meant it was my turn to talk via the earpiece.
Rainbow Dash accepted her hug and a kiss, and she gestured to the couch. The feel of her almost made me shiver with how good she tasted. I must have let out a little chirp because Rainbow Dash reached up to tap the earpiece.
"Sorry, Rainbow, that was me," I said.
"You chirped?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"She picked it up from me. I sometimes do that when I get excited, or happy," NotABug said.
Her lips curling into a smirk, Rainbow Dash put an arm around NotABug's shoulders.
"So I made her excited or happy?" Rainbow Dash asked. "I'll take that as a win."
Rainbow Dash started navigating through the console's menus with her controller, setting things up for the game that was already in it. She passed another controller to NotABug.
"What about Rarity? Can't we all play?" NotABug asked.
"Er. Well. She'd need a controller, and be able to hold it," Rainbow Dash said, blushing.
—It's a wireless controller, darling, couldn't I just, well, interface directly?— I asked.
I watched—digitally—as NotABug built a set of buffers and started spooling data in and out of them. While she did that, she pressed all the buttons on her controller again and again.
—It's using Bluetooth too?— I asked.
—Yup. Okay, I should have this worked out. Now to try to make a new connection to the console...—
"What the?!" Rainbow Dash asked. "How'd you do that?"
Rainbow's arm pointed at the screen where it now showed three players in the game. I reached for the interfaces just as NotABug sent a burst of information showing what each button was. I built a program in seconds that would use the translation table to send the codes so I didn't have to think about them.
—Nice work. Let's play!— NotABug sent.
The game was silly. I'd expected Rainbow Dash to get something action based, but it was a fun go-kart racing game. Each of us got a section of the TV as our screen, and we raced around the track getting weapons to use on each other.
"Did you order food?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Of course I did. They said it should be here by— Any minute now," I said.
As timing would have it, the doorbell rang. Rainbow Dash moved almost quicker than I could see, which was pretty good considering I was working at the faster speed of the digital world. She practically blurred from seat to door.
—They took MasterCard,— I sent.
—Would a place like this keep logs?— NotABug asked.
—I highly doubt it.—
NotABug slowly stood up and, grabbing her purse, walked to the door. The young man delivering the food looked cute—a little shorter than me, but he had a light-red complexion and a deeper red hair that just screamed of exciting personality.
—Is Rainbow checking him out?— NotABug asked.
—She likes guys and girls. You can't compete with his looks, but he'll never compete with yours, or your smarts.—
I heard chirping in my head at the compliment, not that it wasn't true. Then I noticed something that made me chirp too.
—She isn't checking him out, look where her eyes are focused,— I sent.
More chirps came from NotABug.
—Rainbow's checking out the food you ordered. She must be really hungry!—
NotABug paid and we got back on the couch to eat. The food had a different flavor profile than lunch. It certainly wasn't the usual home-delivered Chinese food—which was reflected in the price.
Getting used to having someone else eat with my body still took some doing. NotABug knew how to eat, but she savored different parts of the food than I would have. It wasn't a bad experience, just different.
The real delight was, I had to admit, Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow had the same sweetness, the same spice, but now there was a little more texture. While NotABug and Rainbow Dash ate together, I found myself eating something else—something much sweeter. It was strange how easy it was to take it in—like there was pressure behind it—all I had to do was think about food and it rushed into me.
As I ate, a pressure grew within me. I wasn't sure how, or why, but it felt right and very proper. I was so distracted with the meal that I didn't notice Rainbow and NotABug had finished their food until NotABug messaged me.
—Rarity? Are you awake? You feel awake. Want to play more or sleep?—
—I'm not sure why, but something strange is going on. Rainbow is so tasty, and I couldn't stop from eating. I think I might be full,— I said.
"NotABug, are you okay? Isn't Rarity going to play too?" Rainbow Dash asked.
My perception snapped back into stark contrast. I was looking through NotABug's eyes into Rainbow Dash's, and just when I thought I was so full and bloated I couldn't eat any more, Rainbow Dash smiled.
—She's so sweet.—
I pushed for control of our body—NotABug didn't fight me.
Something had my complete attention now. I turned my body to face where the data was coming from. Crawling forward, I stared at the game console the whole time until magic—power—welled out of me.
"Rarity?!" Rainbow Dash asked.
Her yell was almost impossible to hear over the hurricane of green fire. It spun around me faster and faster. All the food I'd eaten from Rainbow Dash, and probably some that NotABug had eaten too, rushed around us.
—What is this?— NotABug asked me.
—I don't know. It feels right.—
—Yeah.—
"It's okay, Rainbow," I said.
Then the power seemed to swirl and pour down and in.
Into the console.
"What the actual fuck?!" Rainbow Dash asked, standing up as she spoke. "What did you do, and what,"—she gestured at what had become of the game machine—"is that?!"
The clean white lines of the game machine had swollen, stretched, and had pulsing green and black between them. I was thankful it hadn't been slid into the TV cabinet because it was now the size of a bowling ball—but egg shaped.
"I don't know," I said.
"Shit, Rarity, it looks like some kind of alien egg! Is some kinda facehugger gonna jump out and attack me?"
"Please. I'm trying to stay calm at the moment, and you using all those swear words isn't helping. Now, what is going on? I have no—fucking—clue!" I said.
—Rarity, look at this,— NotABug sent.
I didn't often say a bad word—I hadn't even said one when I turned completely black—but right now I was being pushed. There were extenuating circumstances.
Gathering myself back up, I followed NotABug's call and delved into the digital world.
The Bluetooth connection was still active.
—So it's still working?— I asked.
—Maybe. Kinda. I don't know what it's doing. When I send data, even just random, I just get the same back.—
—What about Wi-Fi. Aren't all these things able to use that?—
In a rush, NotABug pulled up another interface and let out a happy chirp. Information was pouring in and out of our Wi-Fi from a new connection.
—What is it?— I asked.
—Rainbow Dash might be right. What if we made an egg?—
All my thought processes stopped at the exact moment I made sense of NotABug's message. An egg. We made an egg. We made an egg from something from Rainbow.
"You said egg?" I asked aloud.
"Well, yeah. Look at it. It's practically begging for a flamethrower to—" Rainbow Dash said. "Hold on. You made this."
It wasn't a question. I could practically hear the full stop in the air at the end of Rainbow's non-question.
"You made an egg," Rainbow Dash said.
"We made an egg," I said.
It was mostly a correction. Mostly.
"What do you mean, 'we'?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"She means we all did. Together," NotABug said, using the earpiece.
"Wait. How can I have done anything?" Rainbow Dash asked, apparently full of questions.
"Feeding," I said. "We've been feeding off something. When you were eating, it tasted stronger. What were you doing then?"
Rainbow Dash looked wild for a moment, as if she would run—if she did, I'd never be able to stop her. But she looked at me with confusion in her eyes.
"I was eating. I was thinking of—" Rainbow Dash said.
She'd bitten off her words, but I needed to know.
"What were you thinking about?" I asked.
"NotABug. Maybe you, too. In bed," Rainbow Dash said.
As she spoke, I felt the swell of food coming to me.
—You feel that?— I asked.
—Yup. So it's when she thinks about us?—
—Right. When she thinks of us, she gives us energy.—
"You're doing it now? Feeding again?" Rainbow Dash asked. At my nod she continued. "I can feel it."
While I stared at Rainbow in shock, she walked up to me and picked me up off the ground with strength that no young woman her size should have. She stared into my eyes, and kissed me.
I didn't owe Rainbow Dash a kiss, and I still wasn't interested in her sexually, but it felt nice to be the one kissed for once. I didn't embrace her and kiss back, or anything so forward—I just didn't pull away from a little warmth.
—She tastes really good,— NotABug sent.
Rainbow broke away from the kiss with a laugh. She looked into my eyes and was the same Rainbow Dash I'd always known: funny, quick to reach any emotion (or destination), and my friend.
"Really, Rarity? I finally get a kiss and you're a cold fish?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"C-Cold fish?" I asked. "Rainbow Dash, you should ask a woman's permission before kissing in that manner!"
Her giggles, now that they came, stole my breath and I began laughing too. I snorted, giggled, and guffawed in very unladylike ways while we both staggered to the couch. With the game console ruined, or in this cased egged, there was nothing else to look at except that egg.
The implications of an egg started to sink in. Eggs meant two things, and I doubted it was breakfast at this time of night. Yes, humor. It turns out a shocking kiss and a laugh can stop panic dead in its tracks.
An egg. Eggs mean offspring.
"An egg, huh?" Rainbow Dash asked, mirroring the thought in my head. "And you're saying it came from you, NotABug, and me?"
—Her love. It's obvious. Can't you feel it?— NotABug asked.
"Your love," I said. "Darling, NotABug, please use the earpiece. I don't want to have to keep relaying. It gets tiring."
"Err, right. Your love. It has to be love. What else swelled like that, tasted that sweet, or would feel like that?" NotABug asked.
"You ate my love and made an egg?" Rainbow Dash asked. "This is so fuc—"
"Don't swear," I said.
"… fantastically corny. You took my love and made an egg with it. So who's the mommy?" Rainbow Dash asked.
—You are,— I sent.
—You are,— NotABug sent.
We both chirped at our instant replies.
"We both are," NotABug and I said together.
"So I'm the dad?" Rainbow Dash asked.
I swear, Rainbow's smile was so wide, and silly, I almost lost control and started laughing again.
"You'll be the mommy too if it is a facehugger," I said.
"Very funny. So what do we do? Does one of us need to sit on it to keep it warm?" Rainbow Dash asked.
Practical questions and answers were Rainbow Dash's forte, particularly physical ones. I watched her stand and walk across the glowing egg and bend down. Gingerly, she set her palm against the black-and-white plastic shell.
"It's warm. Wait, it's still plugged in. This has to be the best egg ever if it's self-warmed," Rainbow Dash said.
I watched her run her hand along the shell, fingers dipping to the glowing green parts. She seemed to be petting it. Control was slipping from me. I reached for NotABug and gently nudged her into the fore.
—Kiss her properly, she deserves it,— I sent.
NotABug stood up and walked over to crouch beside Rainbow Dash. Soft lips pressed to NotABug's, and NotABug replied in kind. I felt a repeat of what had happened earlier, when Rainbow had kissed me, but NotABug had none of my reservations.
Making a soft chirp, I slid into sleep with little fanfare, feeling like a wrung-out emotional sponge.
Sweetie: How do you feel that your sister might be the first bio-digital, evolved human being on the planet? And what are your thought of NotABug?
"Jealous, excited, a little surprised, and daunted. It's amazing—like something out of science fiction. This isn't how electronics are meant to work, it isn't how people are meant to work, but somehow it is.
"That said, NotABug is the most amazing person I've ever met. She has literally grown so much in just weeks that I wonder where she'll go from here."
Sweetie Belle let out a sigh of contentment.
"But the best bit is she has been chatting with me—mostly texts. There is something that all the insights toward AI will never teach, and that is having someone who used to live like one actually explain it."
So I do this "Ask X" thing. X can be any pony within the story. You can ask them anything and they will definitely, hopefully reply. Keep the questions appropriate to the age-rating of the stories, and they will answer the best question in the author notes of the next chapter. The more votes a comment has the more likely I will get it to the right pony to answer. Try to keep it to one question per post! They will pick one question per chapter.
Support me on Patreon or fuel my writing on Ko-Fi!
Join me on Discord. Warning, said chat may contain NSFW material and should be considered adult in nature.
Awesome ponies who are already helping to keep me in keyboards and rum:
A.P.O.N.I.
Boulder
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Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and NotABug: "What are you going to name your child once he or she hatches?
I just hope our child won't take after your recklessness and tactlessness.
So Rarity started her life as a mother of the Technolings. Sweetie would have a fit over a natural-born digital being.
I only hope neither Rarity nor her offsprings won't bare the same love hunger curse as Equestria's changelings.
Ask Rainbow: How do you feel being a parent during one of your date? When will you break the news to your family?
New life or just new body?
A very interesting development with the egg. How does one incubate an electronic egg? Rarity seems to be taking the prospect of being a mother well.
Her progress into becoming fully bio-digital is accelerating the more she interacts with electronics isn’t it?
One thing though. When Pommel mentioned Rarity’s ears, are they still in that limbo between human and pony shape or have they gone full pony yet?
9001920
I mean, on the other hand they're reasonably placed to get it. Gratitude for service...
9001894
Bet it'll be NotABug that hatches. Makes me wonder if these technolings will look like a crossover from the movie Tron? At least their base form since they are supposed to be able to transform too, eventually.
9001920 Oh, I'm sure any offspring of Rainbow Dash will be the absolute picture of poise and calm.
9002188
9002376 *whistles innocently*
9002199
...
An electric blanket!
As for "taking it well" you will note she said a very naughty word that Rarity, under nearly any situation, would never say.
I would answer more questions and comments, but that would be spoiling.
Just found this story yesterday, and have already read up to the chapter you just posted. Wonderfully well-written story. Please, keep it going! :)
9003131 Thanks! Will do.
.
.
Egg? Yep, Egg. Huh. I'm not sure what to think about this. Two things.
E, EGG Sports, it's in the egg.
Eggbox, the new game console from microsoft.
Ok, 3 things.
I wonder what will happen next. New body for NaB? Or a whole new child? One thing's for sure though, ok, two. It's gonna be fast, and it's gonna have rainbow hair/fins.
I just realized! If it's a new body, rarity will turn back white, loose the horn, And keep her connection! This is so exciting!
9005946 At the very least they could make an omelette.
Ooh, Princess Twilight will be just as excited to learn about Rarity!
She has a scent now? Or, one more strong than typical? Interesting...
To NotABug: how fast do you think your child will grow up?
Keep going! ;)
9007488
True, but most POS devices of the type we'd expect them to be using wouldn't be wireless in the first place. Though it is likely the OS would be based on Windows XP or possibly older equivalent. EQG rules and all that...
9008346 It's a minor enough point. I have seen some pretty terrible, wireless POS setups (support for handheld units for waitresses, and all).
nice description about shushi and coding :)
just something a bit off: she learning to code for "Intel architecture". Kinda weird to start with assembly so not sure if that mean what you think. Also I'd have expected NotABug prefering ARM ISA XD
9010598 The server NotABug got is a small (6) blade case. NotABug'd rather use that for grunty work rather than the phone, even with a slight latency.
9010604
then it would be a amd64 ISA ( yeah no matter if it is built by intel xD )
wow 6 blades?! that is quite too much noise and heat for a residential flat
9010677 Rarity did comment on the noise of it. They aren't big blades, just a handful of cores each. And yes, if she wishes to invest in more processing than that, she's going to need to rewire her house.
AMD64 added the bare minimum to the instruction set, and was based off IA32. It was less a new architecture and more just expanding all the registries out (from what I remember. It's been a while since I poked around that low).
9010694
You could say that I have a background in Computer Architecture. xD
AMD took the initiative to jump to the 64bits. so AMD64 is basically the x86 with the 64 extension. Anyways from the programmer point of view the microarchitecture is well hidden. :p and I will shut up with the geektalk. PS cool to see this kind of thing in this kind of place
9010999 I studied computer architecture in college (well before the Intel/AMD 64bit days), messing around on SGI 12k and Motorola 68000 CPUs. I think I still have the Tanenbaum books for all that stuff, along with a "CPU user and design guide" by Intel for their P3 architecture (about a 4k page book printed on paper thinner than bible paper, I got it to modify the CPU power pins of my Celeron to clock it from 566Mhz to 1.2Ghz).
Never be afraid to nerd out—ever.
9011046
Oh cool! So you are from the previous gen :) I used more the Patterson book :p
PhD student, the nerd is a strong force xD
9014249
My thoughts exactly.
You just reminded me that I need to eat kitsune udon at some point.
Brownie points for a passing knowledge of Japanese lingo!
Ah, the Friendship Ender, AKA Mario Kart.
THEY MADE AN EGGY LOOKING THIGN
Man all that talk with sushi has made me hunger for it. Which is difficult to satisfy at 3:26 am on a Saturday.
10375484 🍣
Okay, you know a story is well written when it can make the character just sitting down to try sushi engaging and fun. Pity neither of the two working there was named Oden, would have had SOOOOO many One Piece meme's to pull out.
So we are up to feeding on love/lust and creating eggs..... now will it be a whole new developed baby-bot, or just some kind of drone? And how long till these two have a small army of them? Also, at this rate, how long till they figure out shapeshifting? At this point, I figure Rarity has just had so much bizarre stuff happening that, even this just rates an expletive or two and then "Okay, how do I deal with this new swerve in my life?"
11377756 I had never eaten sushi before and, wanting to make sure I got things reasonably correct, went out and had sushi at a restaurant. I have it reasonably regularly now.
this is kind of worrying, funny but still a little worrying
I was starting to worry how she was going to create "subjects" for herself
this word sounds so wrong in English, and so similar to objects that it makes them seem disposable