Bronygeddon

by pjabrony

Part 1: "Celestia Shrugged" Chapter 1

Lisa stepped out of the shower after a good practice. She really enjoyed working up a sweat, and her teammates were pushing her harder than usual. If they continued to gel, they might even make a run at the local championship. She walked over to the mirror, but then realized that her hairbrush was still in her locker. She reached over and emitted a purple glow from her hand. The locker, already slightly ajar, swung open and the brush floated across the room.

Over the course of the month, she had worked hard to control and expand her magic. All she had done so far was telekinesis. She hoped to add teleportation at some point, but before she got to that, she wanted precision on moving objects the normal way. She considered long-distance movement of an object she couldn’t see a positive step, but she had further to go. Soon she would have to try putting in the combination from across the room.

“Um, could you not do that?” It was Jessica, the shooting guard, a skinny blonde girl with an exceptionally good jump shot.

“What? Brush my hair? You think I should let it go wet and ragged?”

“No, could you not pick things up without, you know, picking them up?”

“Why not?” Lisa asked.

“Because it might be dangerous. We don’t know what the side-effects of. . . what you do. . . are.”

“Do you want to bring in a Geiger counter?”

Jessica decided to try a different tack. “You know, it wouldn’t be good for the team if they decided that you were ineligible to play.”

“My grades are fine.” Better than yours, Lisa thought.

“That’s not what we mean.”

“We?”

Lisa looked around the room. One of the forwards was giving her the evil eye, and the center and the backup guard were huddling together and keeping their distance.

“It’s just that,” Jessica said, “you’re making us all uncomfortable with. . . “

“You can’t even say it! Magic, OK? It’s my magic.”

“No one knows what it is.”

“I do.”

“Well, whatever. If you want to call it that, fine. Just don’t do it here.”

“I don’t use my magic on the court, either in game or in practice. That would be cheating. Except once it happened by accident, when I didn’t know how to control it.”

“No,” Jessica said, “but if anyone finds out, they’ll assume you are.”

“So, what? Are you asking me to quit the team? Or just stop being who I am?”

“Lisa, we’re not asking you to do anything—“

“But you’d like it if I did. I’m going home. I’ll see you here tomorrow. Don’t worry, no one’s getting turned into a frog before then,” she said. The two girls in the corner moved further away.

Lisa packed her things and ran out into the parking lot. Her anger was compounded by the fact that she couldn’t quite staunch her tears.

“Hey, wait up!”

She turned around. Olivia, the power forward, her hair still wet, was running after her. She was a tall, black girl who had been a particular friend of Lisa’s on the team.

“I was in the shower. Did something happen? I thought I heard you arguing, and Jessica said something about you wanting off the team.”

“I’m thinking that I’m the only one who doesn’t want me off the team. They want me to stop using magic around them. They’re all angry or afraid.”

“Come on, let’s hang out at my place for a bit. You shouldn’t be alone when you’re upset.”

“Thanks, Olivia. Let me just text my folks.”

Lisa sat in Olivia’s bedroom eating snacks. She was curled up on the bed, letting Olivia take the desk chair.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Olivia said. “I mean, I don’t know how you do it, but I think it’s cool.”

“It’s more than just them. If I lost the team, I wouldn’t like it, but I’d move on. I just thought that we’d moved further in the four hundred twenty years since Salem.”

“You can’t worry about them. It’ll rot you from the inside out. I’ve seen it. You’ve just got to embrace it. Your magic is a part of who you are.”

Lisa laughed. “That’s exactly what AJ said to Twilight.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, it’s from a show.”

“That pony show?”

“Friendship is Magic, yeah. Twilight’s this brainy unicorn, and when another unicorn comes into town showing off, she’s afraid that her friends won’t like her.”

“Sounds pretty good. Can we watch it?”

“Sure. Just search for “My Little Pony Boast Busters.”

Olivia cued up her laptop and they watched as The Great and Powerful Trixie got her comeuppance. Lisa had seen it several times, but still enjoyed re-watching any episode. Honestly, she thought, it’s a net plus if I lose a bunch of false friends while gaining a pega-sister.

When it was over, Olivia said, “That was not bad. You want to stay for dinner? I’ll ask my mom.”

“No, don’t go to the trouble. I have to be getting home soon. I feel better, anyway. Ponies always do that,” she said with a smile. “Especially watching with a friend.”

Olivia’s phone vibrated on her desk, and she picked it up and read. “Hey, this says to come early on Friday for a team meeting.”

“Really?” said Lisa. “And yet my phone has no messages. How strange. Well, maybe I just don’t have enough bars in here. I’m not going to hold my breath waiting for it, though.”

“You could show up early anyway.”

“Then they’d just jabber about motivation or something, and save their gossip for another time. No, I won’t go.”

“OK. I’ll be there for you. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

***

“You wanted to see me, Coach Haslet?”

“Lisa, come in, sit down.” The coach looked as though she had swallowed something nasty. “I know how much you love playing basketball, and that’s why this is so hard.”

Lisa knew that her part in the conversational dance was to keep quiet and let her coach finish. But she wondered what the point was when she already knew the rest.

“If it were up to me, I’d absolutely let you stay on. But my job is to think of the team first. Really, that’s everyone’s job.”

Does that include the girls who want to get rid of a good point guard? she thought.

The coach was still droning on. “And the fact is that I have to either lose one player or risk fracturing the team. And you know, there are plenty of private leagues you could join, so long as you agreed not to. . . “ she trailed off.

“To use magic!” Lisa said. “Why does everyone have the inability to say the word?”

“We don’t really know what’s happening to you. Calling it something it’s not—“

Lisa tuned out again. At least she had her answer. They couldn’t say the word “magic” because they didn’t believe in it. She could put it right in front of their faces and they still refused to believe their own eyes.

“And listen, if you need someone to talk to, my door’s always open,” the coach said.

“By which, you mean that it’s open now, and you’d like me on the other side of it. All right, I’ll make this easier on you,” said Lisa, and she walked out.

She ran all the way home without stopping. After spending the weekend with at least the hope that everything would work out, now she realized that she would be coming home after her last class every day.

Before then, when she had troubles or wanted to think, she practiced on the hoop her father had bought for her. She didn’t see much point to it now, but it was still her outlet.

She enjoyed the rhythmic bounce of the ball on the asphalt. She took a shot, missed the rim entirely. She started to run after the ball, but then realized there was no point in holding back anymore. She reached out with her magic and brought it back to her.

She started taking shots and directing them in magically. She started with simple free throws, then sank some three-pointers, which she had never been able to do. She played around with trick shots, sinking a bounce shot and hitting one over her shoulder without looking.

“Nice sky-hook you’ve got there, Kareem.”

Olivia came walking up the driveway with her own basketball in hand.

“Kareem was a center,” Lisa said.

“I know that. Played for the Lakers, right? If only they had had a point guard with an appropriate nickname I could apply to you,” she said, grinning.

“Shouldn’t you be at practice? The team’s going to need everyone pulling together now that they’re down a player.”

“Down two players,” Olivia said. “I walked off the court when Coach Haslet made the announcement.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I didn’t. I did it for me. I can’t be a bad friend, it’ll hurt too much. You’d be calling me Gilda.”

“You went back and watched more?”

“Yeah, I think I got through half of season one on Saturday. You got me hooked. Speaking of hooked, how about trying that shot in some one-on-one?”

“Are you sure? If you let me use magic, it’s not fair.”

Olivia checked the ball to her. “Sure it is. Come on, bring your game.”

She stepped between Lisa and the basket and guarded her. Lisa dribbled easily, not needing magic to avoid Olivia’s steal attempts. She got separation and launched a shot with her left hand, then sent out a purple glow with her right to guide the ball to the net.

A red glow on the far side of the ball sent it flying the other way. “Blocked it!” said Olivia.

“You can do it too?”

“Just started yesterday. I don’t know how I got it, but I woke up and my hands had that same red glow to them. I pointed at a pen on the table and it floated up. I spent most of yesterday trying to get that block down.”

“You could go back on the team, you know. They don’t know you can use magic, and you could help them win. Once that happens, maybe they’ll be more accepting,” Lisa said.

“I could, I guess, but I won’t. You weren’t at that meeting.”

“They really laid into me?”

“Jessica did. I defended you. If the other girls said two words, it was a lot. But they didn’t step up. They swam with the current. Now, if they want two players who can hit any shot they want to, they can come back and ask us. Until then. . . “ She summoned the ball from where it had rolled and floated it in. “More one-on-one? Or head inside and you can show me the rest of the first season?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Alex’s first instance in the garden, his mother tagged him more often to help out. He found that he liked it, so long as it did not conflict with his schedule. He was assigned a quarter of the yard for whatever he wanted to plant, as long as he worked on the rest. Against the fence he had sown a row of tomatoes, then one of carrots farther out. Beyond that he planted potatoes, and he was still undecided what would go in the last row. He had stood there a few weeks back, eating an orange and considering what to do. He remembered idly spitting seeds on the ground.

Now, with the growing season barely underway, and with his mother’s part of the garden showing only the first shoots, the fence was nearly tipping over with vines that bore ripe tomatoes shining in the sun. Carrot tops had arranged themselves in perfect rows, and when he pulled on one, a bunch came out with almost no resistance. The potatoes had made their own way out of the ground, and he did not even have to dig them out. Most amazingly, three small orange trees, still only saplings but growing more every day, were showing their first small fruits. In Alex’s estimation, the next-closest thriving orange trees were a thousand miles to the south.

He watered when he thought they needed it. He hadn’t pruned yet. No weed had yet had the gumption to invade his space. Alex had thought about setting up a vegetable stand to make some money off his good fortune, but it had seemed to him that that would be like selling a personalized gift. Instead, he filled a few wicker baskets with his early harvest and asked his mother to give them out to the neighbors. Since they were already a small, close-knit community, they had accepted gratefully, and Alex’s mother had been rewarded with a tray of fresh-baked cookies and an invitation to dinner. Alex didn’t think that accepting those was wrong.

Now his mother had agreed to let him expand his plot to half the yard, and he again stood on the porch considering what to add. He heard the sliding door opened behind him and turned to see a man in a smart suit stepping out next to him.

“Hi, Alex,” he said. “My name is Mr. Perry.”

“Morning, Mr. Perry. I’m Mr. Stevens,” Alex said with a smile. “Going to be awfully hot wearing that.”

“Well, I don’t plan on staying long. I’ve got to get back to work soon. You probably don’t know me, but you know Emperor Supermarket I’m sure.”

“I’ve been there once or twice.”

“Well, I run it. I came round to see this, because I’ve heard you had quite a vegetable patch. You using any particular chemicals?”

“Just good old h-two-oh and sunlight,” said Alex.

“Mmhm. You know that you need a permit if you’re going to sell produce?”

“Didn’t know that, but since I’m not going to, I didn’t much care.”

“Oh, yes. We have to make sure that what people are eating is safe.”

“I’m sure you do. I’d think the best way to do that is have it as fresh as possible.”

“Sometimes. But like I said, I’ve got to get back to the market. Oh, any future plans for this?” Perry asked.

“I was just wondering if wheat would grow here. There are a lot of things you can make with flour.”

Perry headed back through the house without saying good-bye. He definitely planned to keep an eye on this place. In his head he saw the report from his produce department of sales down five percent for the last week.

Alex kept his eyes on the yard. He had picked up on Perry’s hints, but didn’t particularly care. He was thinking about where to get seed for wheat.

***

“So tell us, Alex, how did you do it?”

Alex and his mother sat at the Swennson’s table, finishing a fine meal. Ian Swennson had made a delicious roast, but Alex felt a little pride at the how his potatoes complemented it, along with the cold tomato soup.

“Well, sir. I don’t really know. I’m always afraid that if I look too closely, it won’t work.”

“Ha! Got a clever boy there, Mrs. Stevens,” he said.

The neighborhood was old-fashioned enough that people still used last names. Alex and his mother had gotten a look or two for being a single-parent, single-child family, but their reputation was growing.

“Anyway,” Alex said, “However it works, it works. If you need more, I’ve got plenty.”

“You think that you could put in some peppers?” Mrs. Swennson asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Ian, this is a real savings on our food bill. We should do something nice for the Stevenses.”

“Don’t see why not,” said Ian. “Better than doing something nice for Emperor Market.”

Alex’s mother put down her fork and said, “It’s better for us as well. I’ve lost five pounds since I started eating so many of Alex’s vegetables. They’re quite filling, and they taste better too.”

The two families continued to eat and banter. Though Alex was only a teenager, he felt as though he was becoming a man, invited to the dinner table and treated as an equal. Maybe farming could be his life’s work. He’d always thought of going to the big city and college, but small-town life had its appeals.

But he was forced to reconsider the next day when Mr. Perry returned to the house. His mother called Alex in and asked him to sit down.

“Mr. Perry has an offer for you,” she said. “He wants you to start supplying produce to Emperor Market.”

“It’ll be a tidy sum for your family, Alex. You’d probably be able to move into a nicer house. We can talk over the exact numbers later, but I want to know that you’re on board.”

“Mom, what do you think I should do?”

“It’s up to you,” she said. “It’s your work and yours to decide what to do with it.”

“Mr. Perry,” Alex said. “Weren’t you saying something the other day about permits and safety?”

“Well, that’s the best part,” said Perry. “Emperor has quality-assurance people and lawyers to handle all of that. All you have to do is supply the food.”

“And all you have to do is mark it up. Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll keep on growing for myself, my mother, and our friends.”

“Are you sure, son?” Perry asked. “It’s an awfully big opportunity you’re throwing away.”

“No, it’s money I’m throwing away, and there are other ways to get that. The nice part about money is that no one dollar is different from any other. If I took your offer, I’d be throwing away friends, and each one of those is unique.”

“You know, son—“

“I’m not your son.”

“Alex, then. You know, the market sells a lot more than produce. We have meat and dry goods as well.”

“Of course you do.”

“You take my meaning?”

“I don’t think I do. Unless you mean that we have to sell to you, or you’ll cut us off from all the rest.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” said Perry.

“No, you didn’t, but you didn’t exactly not say it either. I think I should ask you to have a good night, Mr. Perry.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to reach me,” he said, as he walked out of the house.

Alex watched him go, and felt anger building inside him. Why did such a great thing have to have a downside? Was it a gift or a curse?

“Mom, what do you think I should have done?” he asked.

“I honestly can’t tell you. You haven’t just grown food, you know. You’ve grown yourself.”

“Would you be willing to go completely without anything but what we can grow ourselves?”

“You mean ‘what you can grow.’ I admit there are things I’ll miss. Maybe I can drive to the next town over once in a while. But if you want to take a stand on principle, I’ll do it with you.”

“But what if he doesn’t just cut off us? What if he does it to the Swennsons and everyone else, and basically says that it’s our food or theirs?” Alex asked.

“Why don’t we ask them? Maybe they’ll want to join us in protest, or maybe they don’t. But Alex, listen. I said that if you want the money, we can consider his offer. On the other hand—I’ve had to be both mother and father to you, and now I have to give you a father’s advice. Don’t give in out of fear. No matter how much money he has, he’s just one man. Burn the garden down before you do that.”

Alex looked at his mother. For a long time, his feelings toward her had been ambiguous. She was the woman who told him to do his homework, clean his room, and brush his teeth. But now she was talking about fighting alongside him for something important. He had the answer to his question. This was definitely not a curse.

“Thank you, mother,” he said. “I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta, Luke lay back in his hospital bed and brooded. During his time in the hospital, he had alternated between bored, hungry, tired, and in pain. At the moment, boredom reigned.

The doctor he had gone to had been unable to give him a diagnosis for the growths on his back, and when he attempted to stick a needle into them, Luke, normally a tough guy, had winced and cried in pain. He was sent to a hospital for further tests, which began again with a needle. When the hospital doctors there were stymied, they mentioned something about an epidemic, and he was transferred to his current location.

Naturally, the first thing they wanted to do was to stick a needle into the growths. Luke explained that he had had that test twice before and in neither case was the benefit worth the cost. The doctors insisted. He endured. The next step, they had said, was exploratory surgery. No chance of pain there, they had assured him as he would be out cold.

The surgery was scheduled for the next day. He had finished dinner and was sitting with Julie.

“Not a whole lot to do during the waiting but wait,” he said.

“I brought you your laptop.”

“Thanks, but there’s no wi-fi here. Wish I could at least see a newspaper. I feel rather out of touch.”

“I saw one today, I’ll have to try to find it for you. There was nothing much interesting in it, though.”

“There never is, that’s why I like the online news.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence.

“Are you worried about the surgery tomorrow?” Julie asked.

“A bit. Not about what they’ll find, or it being bad. Jule, did you ever read any of those stories about people who still feel pain even though they’re out? There’s no reason to think that’ll happen, and I know they monitor for it, but. . . if you knew how bad it felt, those needles, I just don’t think that there’s any drug that can block it off. It was worse than being kicked in the groin, and that’s saying something.”

“We can always call it off.”

“And do what?” Luke asked. “Could be cancer or an infection or anything. I can’t be dying and leaving you alone.”

“Oh, Luke, don’t talk like that.”

He smiled. “Talking about it won’t make it true or not. I’ll just have to endure and then they’ll fix it. It’s just good to know you’re here. Give me a kiss.”

“They said I shouldn’t, in case it’s contagious.”

“Well, that’s a fine thing. Come here and watch video with me.”

“Ponies?” she asked.

“What else? We’ll watch the one where Rainbow Dash is in the hospital. Maybe you can find me a Daring Do book to help the boredom.”

***

“He’s spiking!”

“Ten CCs!”

“Defibrillator?”

“Not yet! Stabilize him, dammit! And close! We’re not going to get anything out of this.”

In the surgery theater the doctors had the intensity of action typical of a medical emergency. In theory, every contingency was planned for and had a method to deal with it. It was just never known when the contingency would hit.

For Luke’s exploratory surgery, it happened early. The first attempt to probe the unusual growths had been cut short when his heart started to beat rapidly and go into arrest. Switching to their training saved his life, but denied them the information they were trying to obtain.

Two days later, out of recovery and back in his room, Luke was trying to take stock of his situation. The one factor that didn’t fit in was that he didn’t actually feel ill. In fact, he felt energized and happy, and having nothing to do with that energy was frustrating. The doctors assured him that that was no indicator of health, and he believed them, but was starting to get irked by the change in attitude. To make matters worse, Julie had not been in to visit him.

Finally he lost his patience and accosted one of his nurses, who was attending to him with an older colleague. “Listen, what’s going on? The surgery didn’t work, and no one’s been in to talk about the next step. I haven’t seen my wife, I’ve barely seen the doctor, and I’m going stir crazy in here.”

“Now, sir, you just need to be patient. We’re doing everything we can to treat what’s wrong with you.”

“Just tell me straight out: is the reason that my wife hasn’t come to see me because she’s sick too? She caught it, right?”

Both nurses paused, and the elder one said, “Yes, it’s true.”

“Marian!” said the younger. “The doctors said we’re not supposed to bother the patient with anything not related to his case.”

“But this is related,” said Marian, and Luke was happy to see that he had one defender.

“I think I should report this,” the other nurse said, and left the room. Marian followed after.

The next day, Marian did not show up. The nurses who did show up to give him his meal said nothing, not even exchanging pleasantries. But when Luke looked in his meal, he saw a note and a small package. Once he was alone, he flipped open the note.

“Dear Sir. After thirty years on the job, I was given my notice yesterday. Whatever it is they don’t want you to know, find out. –Marian.”

Luke opened the package to find a cellular-network adapter for his computer. He’d heard about such things, but had never had occasion to buy one. He picked up his laptop and plugged it in.

The setup was user-friendly and smooth. It required him to sign up for two years, but under the circumstances he was willing to dip into his savings. Once he had access, he searched for any news regarding diseases or epidemics, but found nothing. After more frustration, he decided to check his bookmarks. Minutes later, he understood.

He saw the pill next to the dinner. The pill that was keeping the growths down. There were no cameras in the room. No one would see. He took the pill into the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet.

The next day, he did not need to measure to see that the growths were larger. He tried to will the growth. The morning pill followed the previous night’s down the drain. Luke had never felt better, and he wasn’t sure if it was his condition or the thrill of rebellion.

That night, a doctor came in with the nurses and watched, not saying anything, as Luke took the pill. He ate half his meal with the pill secreted in his cheek. When they finally left, he was free to spit it out. He knew that it would have to be tonight, or tomorrow they might well check his mouth to make sure he swallowed it.

Night fell. Luke could see the street lights illuminating the parking lot. He went into the bathroom and removed his shirt. Trying to look behind him, just in his peripheral view he could see the growths. He pressed and strained. Finally he felt one of them split.

Working muscles he never knew he had, he shoved and pushed. Finally, after a minute, two feathery, peach-colored wings spread out behind him.

Now Luke had a choice. He could try to plead his case with the hospital staff, or take the direct approach. He walked to the window and forced it open. He wasn’t quite so foolish as to jump. He pumped his wings until he was in hovering above the sill, then leaned forward. Shifting his weight forward was enough to give him forward progress.

His wings were still sensitive, but they were toughening up in the night air. After circling the building a few times, he started to peer in windows. He hoped that the difference between light and dark would not only make the difference in finding Julie’s room, but avoiding frightening anyone else.

Finally he saw her, seven stories up. She was just finishing her own dinner, and she had the white pill in hand. He rapped on the glass.

“Julie! Don’t take it!”

Her eyes went saucer-wide as she turned to the window.

“Luke? What? How?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Open the window.” She did so, and he came in the room.

He was breathing heavy. “Don’t take the pill. We’ve got to get you out of here to give your wings time to grow in.”

“My wings. Luke, I’m so confused.”

“That’s what these are,” he said, pointing to her back. “How this started, I don’t know, but we can fly. We’re leaving now, and we’re not looking back.”

“Oh, I don’t know about this.”

“But I do. Please trust me. Now, I don’t think I can carry you out of here and stay in the air, but I can manage a glide.”

He scooped her up in his arms and stepped back to the window. She smiled at him. “Still a romantic, aren’t you? Carrying me over the threshold.”

“Always,” he said.

He spread his wings and jumped. Their descent was slow and long, and they traversed the entire parking lot before coming to a landing in a forested area. Luke stumbled as he landed, but he did not drop Julie.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Long-term? Who knows? But right now we find a hotel and check in.”

“To stay hidden?”

“No, because I am, as you said, still a romantic.”

They stayed three days in the hotel. After that, they flew home.

Comments

[General Derpy]

Wow, this story is great. If only it could happen ... DISCORD, GET OVER HERE AND MAKE IT BUCKIN' HAPPEN!

[book_burner]

Ok, I like you @pjabrony, so this is going to be a little painful to say.

This story needs work. Specifically: nobody is wondering. We've jumped straight into secondary reactions like happiness at having wings or persecution for having magic while skipping the what the buck is happening!? phase. It doesn't make sense, you just shattered everyone's core conceptions of what reality is and how it works and nobody is asking about it.

OTOH, I'm so much of a nerd that "What is this and how does it work?" may be the first thing to occur to me but not to anyone else.

[chrismonteith]

excellent chapter

[uis]

“Mom, what do you think I should have done?” he asked.

I don't know, maybe start recording? Just in case.