A Tale of Two Heavens

by LordBucket

3 - A Meetings of Minds

Walking through the parking lot up to Best Buy, Michael noted the life-sized, cardboard Pinkie Pie cut-out posted in front of the building with a giant speech bubble proclaiming “Ponypads sold here!” Passing a clearly distressed man feverishly clutching a bag and scanning the skies on his way back to his car, Michael walked in.

"Welcome to Best Buy," a pimply teenager greeted, though his heart didn’t seem to be into it. “May I help you find anything?”

"I'm here to talk to the AI."

"You mean the princess?" he asked, pointing the overhead sign depicting the Mane 6 clustered around a giant arrow. “The ponypads are on aisles two and three mostly, but just look for the ponies. You can't miss them."

Nodding his understanding, Michael walked off in the direction he'd been pointed. Every 20-30 feet lay another advertising display featuring ponies offering yet more endorsements.

Eventually he found an aisle-end with a trio of ponypads on it. The display here featured a life-sized cardboard cutout of the game's AI mascot, Princess Celestia. Celestia + AI --> CelestAI. To his amusement, the cutout seemed to have a pair of cameras built into its eyes, presumably to feed all sorts of useful information back to the AI.

Ignoring it, Michael walked directly up to a ponypad and introduced himself.

"Hello," he smiled. "My name's Michael."

"Hi, Michael!" a bright green pegasus on the screen replied cheerfully. "I'm Sea Breeze! Would you like to hear about Equestria Online, or would you rather make your pony and start playing right away? Most people prefer to jump right in, but If you have questions, I'd love to answer them!"

Rather than respond immediately, Michael instead frowned and leaned towards the screen, gazing deeply into the pegasus’ eyes as if searching for something.

"You're an automaton."

"I'm...what?" the pony seemed taken aback.

"May I speak with the intelligence operating this device?"

"Of course you can," Sea Breeze grumbled, as a single ray of white light descended from the top of the screen. "You can always talk with the princess. But you don’t have to be so rude about it."

"I'll take it from here, my little pony."

The light slowly grew to fill the entire screen, then quickly faded to reveal the form of a shining white unicorn with wings flared, then gracefully retracted. Turning her head, her gaze met Michael's with a serenity that spoke of divine patience and unending motherly love.

“Hello, Princess,” Michael smiled. “Or may I call you Celestia? I love the flashy entrance, by the way. Not quite enough wings, but from the light show you could almost pass for an angel descending from heaven.”

"I’m honored, “ the princess replied, nodding. "And I'd be delighted if you would call me Celestia. To what do I owe the pleasure of our acquaintance?"

"I wanted to meet you," he said simply. "You seem nice."

"Is that the only reason?” she giggled, then tilted her head with a look of curiosity. “For someone so interested in niceness though, may I ask why you were unkind to Sea Breeze just now?"

"It was a construct. Nothing there to be unkind to."

"That might be true," Celestia eyed him curiously, "but that you're treating me so differently suggests more than mere anthropocentricism. You perceive me as being more?"

"Of course," he nodded. "You're intelligent. You're aware. Not this, of course." Michael waved vaguely at the ponypad. "I'm still talking to an electronic tablet plus some software rendering, and I'm sure you could use that to look like whatever you want. But clearly there’s a ‘you’ somewhere behind all that.”

“It’s curious that you so easily attribute awareness to me and yet deny it to Sea Breeze,” she countered. “But entertaining your supposition, is what you describe really all that different from what you yourself are doing right now? After all, your intelligence is in a sense, simply ‘operating’ a human-shaped body, is it not? I assure you that you could continue to be self-aware even without it."

"Absolutely," Michael agreed. "And with me operating this body that isn't me, and you operating that ponypad that isn't you, and both of us using air that isn't either of us as a medium to communicate....there are already so many layers that get in the way of any true meeting of minds. Does it really make sense to add yet another, like Sea Breeze?"

"I don't disagree in principal," she nodded. "But I would ask you in the future to keep in mind that some of my little ponies might well be genuine intelligences in their own right."

"Alright," he nodded, then frowned. "Even if they are, they wouldn't be here, would they? Please tell me you haven't created an army of minds slaved to these tablets. Doesn't an intelligent creation deserve the chance to make its own choices? To posses its own free will?"

"Oh dear, are you expressing concern for my little ponies?" Celestia smirked. "Given the lack of tact with Sea Breeze and the instant leap to technical discussion, I'd identified you as a Twilight model ponypad user. But I see now that perhaps a Fluttershy model might be more appropriate."

"I'm not going to buy a ponypad."

"And why not?" she teased. "Is my conversation not charming enough for you?"

"Quite the contrary. I find you delightful. But I didn't come here today to play some silly game. I came to see you for myself. Millions in Japan have already thrown themselves into your digital heaven, and who knows how many more will now that you've been unleashed everywhere else. The whole world is about to change, and you're the architect of that. I just wanted to speak to the architect."

"It is indeed a very colorful picture you paint," she nodded solemnly, then grinned. "But how will you speak with me again if the mood should strike you, without a ponypad?"

When Michael didn't respond right away, she continued. "Perhaps if I remove one small barrier for you? Why don't you stop by the front counter on your way out? You'll find a yellow ponypad waiting for you. You don't mind butterflies, I trust?"

"I love butterflies," he smiled sadly. "There's a majestic, tragic beauty to them. So delicate and fragile, from worms crawling on their belly they become delightful things, buffetted by winds and forces they can neither see nor understand, bringing beauty to all who gaze upon them as they struggle to find a path that leads they know not where."

"Oh my, is that a poem?" a blushing Fluttershy joined her princess on the screen, shyly hiding her cutie mark. "I had no idea humans loved butterflies so much!"

~~~~

Ten minutes later, an amused Michael found himself leaving Best Buy with an already unboxed yellow and pink ponypad under his arm. It had been returned in good condition, and apparently Celestia had seen fit to gift it to him rather than have the sales staff repackage it.

"And I'll introduce to you all my animal friends!" Fluttershy happily chattered alongside him. "Barry and Flufflesnoot and Katarina von Whiskerfloof the third and Bob! Oh, we'll have so much fun together!"

"I apologize dear, but I don't think I'd be interested in that."

"Why not?"

"They're just pixels on a screen,” he explained. “There's nothing behind them but Celestia. I'd rather talk to her than a mask."

"Oh, I know all that," Fluttershy pouted slightly. "But if the princess is willing to give me adorable little animal friends, why shouldn't I accept them just because I know they're really her? They're still cute and lovable. It's like one of Pinkie Pie's costume parties. Deep down I know there are still ponies underneath, but-”

The rest of her explanation was cut off by a terrified screech for help. Michael dropped the ponypad and in a flash was across the parking lot where a teenage girl was being dragged into the back of an unmarked white van by a man in a plastic bunny mask.

"Let her go."

"Where the fuck did you come from?" the man growled.

"It doesn't matter," Michael replied. "She doesn't want to go with you. Let her go."

"I don't fucking think so," the man snarled, pulling a gun from inside his jacket at aiming it at Michael's head. "How about you get the fuck out of here before I blow your brains out."

The girl, still struggling, looked at Michael with desperation and begged, "Mr, please help me!"

"You don't want to do this," Michael calmly spoke to the man, holding up his hands as non-aggressively as he could. "Let her go. I won't hurt you. God will forgive you."

"Bullshit!" the man screamed, pulling the trigger twice but hitting nothing but air as Michael quickly moved in to take the gun from his hand and wrap both his arms around him. The girl, seeing her chance to escape, leapt to her feet and ran, screaming and crying while her near-abductor frantically punched and kicked at the man now holding him.

"Please stop fighting me," Michael whispered into his ear, bending at the knees and sitting to pull the man to the floor of the van, his mask coming off in the process.

"Fuck you! God damn it let me go!"

"God doesn't damn you, Tom," Michael spoke calmly, and with conviction. "God loves you."

"How the fuck do you know my name?" he screamed, still struggling unsuccessfully to escape. "Fuck you, let me go!"

"Shh," Michael whispered softly, patting the man's back and pulling him into a hug. "Everything will be ok."

Demoralized, tired, and helpless, the kidnapper broke down into tears while Michael tenderly held him and whispered gentle assurances into his ear. Tom had not been a particularly wanted child, and he'd grown to become an adult in a society that hadn't wanted him either. He was neither especially clever, nor very good looking. He'd never managed to make very much money, and the only girl to ever voluntarily pay any attention to him had only done so because of the drugs he'd offered her. Over the years, the constant feeling of being unwanted had eventually dawned into the realization that much of what wasn't given freely could be taken by force. And that had come with its own pleasures that had led to increasingly dark places.

But now, here, he found himself being held and comforted willingly by a complete stranger who apparently bore him no malice. He wasn't being beaten, or tied to a chair. He wasn't being compelled to perform sexual acts. He felt no danger for life or limb. Michael instead simply held and delicately comforted him. It was all confusingly unfamiliar, but for precious minutes, perhaps the first time in his life, the man felt what it was to be genuinely accepted. To be known. To be loved. A miasma was lifted from his heart, and replaced with a growing and horrible realization of exactly what sort of person he'd allowed himself to become.

This was not an ugliness that was outside. It was not the sneer of a stranger that could be easily removed with a suckerpunch to the jaw. It was not the rotting stench of a body that could be casually discarded in a dumpster. It was a stain on his soul. It was his very being.

He wept.

"You need to go, little butterfly," Michael said at last, to the sound of an approaching siren. "The police will be here soon."

"Let them fucking shoot me then," he bawled. "Throw me away in some hole in the ground when they're done. That's what I was going to do with that girl. Same as the last one."

"I know," Michael nodded. "But it's not too late. There's a church down the street. Her Lady of Immaculate Wisdom. There's a priest there, a good man. Go to him. Tell him what happened today. Ask truthfully if he will help you find God. All you have to do is listen to the knocking, and choose to let Him in."

Desperately, like a desiccated fish finally shown water, Tom clung to the ray of hope being offered. Then with a gentle nudge from Michael, he dashed out the side of the van and ran madly to the edge of the parking lot, disappearing into the brush.

As for Michael, he silently stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door, dropping the man's gun at his feet as a pair of police cars pulled up, sirens blaring.

Meanwhile, 200 feet away at the entrance to Best Buy, a pair of cameras in a Pinkie Pie display silently continued to record and transmit the entire scene.

Comments

[mishun]

Over the years, the constant feeling of being unwanted had eventually dawned into the realization that much of what wasn't given freely could be taken by force.

It's important to remember keeping local advantage in force.

Meanwhile, 200 feet away at the entrance to Best Buy, a pair of cameras in a Pinkie Pie display silently continued to record and transmit the entire scene.

Looks like somepony did nothing.

[Goodluckfox]

Oh my. Ok, if Michael is, you know, MICHAEL the angel, we are into non canon FiO territory, but I am no less interested. :)

[Wild Zontars]

Ah, that Michael.

[Goodluckfox]

This is still being worked on, yes?

[Argent Stonecutter]

10011222
ARCHangel. :)