Chapter 15: Kyanite
By the time Bit made it back to the tower, the sun was low on the horizon, stretching all the shadows into the reaching talons of an angry mob. But the threat was nowhere to be seen—there was no mob, no soldiers storming the building and tossing equipment from the windows. The tower's lights still shone from the upper floors.
Sorry to keep you waiting, Pathfinder. I hope you didn't wake up yet.
There were a pair of soldiers waiting at the gate, wearing the same gear symbols that Keen Ardor had worn. They watched her as she passed between them. No one moved to stop her, and soon she was through to the inside.
"It's true what they say. The wizard really is a pony made of stone."
"I wouldn't believe if I didn't see it myself," the other agreed.
Bit stopped in her tracks, turning to glare at the two of them. "I am a pony made of crystal, she corrected. Stone is typically a conglomerate of many different minerals. Crystal is the arrangement of a single mineral or small subset, arranged in a repeating geometry. Just look for translucence."
They stared, dumbfounded. But she didn't bother watching to see how well they had learned her lesson, just turned to march up to the security door. She flashed her identification against the sensor, feeling increasingly nervous with every second. Those soldiers were watching her intently, maybe placed here to see how she got inside. But there was nothing she could do about it.
Pity my horn doesn't serve a purpose. I could open the door with magic while obstructing it with my body. But of course her horn didn't work—magic was something for living ponies.
Even after she had snapped the door closed behind her, she felt eyes watching her with every step.
There were no memories to conjure—King Zircon had never known any of this. But she could simulate well enough, without even expending conscious effort. "Wear clothing all you want, strut about pretending to be alive—it will not change the reality. You are an automaton, shaped by cruel hooves to the imitation of equinity. You are incapable of becoming anything else."
Once his words would've meant almost nothing to her, there was nothing frightening about repeating facts. Why should she object to the truth? She was a machine, built using a process she now understood. She had directives to serve, and a master.
I am acting irrationally. I allow ponies to treat me as though I were one of them, when I am not. I am not serving my function.
What was her function anymore? She had done everything her wizard could've expected. She had prepared his tower, restored the power, and cleaned the windows. Whatever conditions he was waiting for must have been fulfilled.
Bit returned to the top floor to find the crystal cocoon unchanged from when she had left it last—not surprising, really. Seven days was not an estimate, it was a timeline.
Bit gathered her cleaning supplies from the basement, and went over the floors. She sprayed the windows, even in the quarters of the deserting apprentices.
The satisfaction never came. She could barely even focus on the procedure of her tasks anymore, and instead caught herself thinking about other things.
"I didn't make you to clean floors, Bit. We have servants for this."
She looked back at the Wizard's empty chair. "Why did you make me, Master?"
The aging unicorn shifted on the cushions, expression thoughtful. "I could tell you what I told our investors. I could tell you what I tell my father. You're the prototype for a new kind of life. Your success will mean a future for every crystal city. Which... I guess that's just Zircon now."
She focused on him, intent. Conversation always had rules, and he hadn't used the words that meant he was following them. "You could tell me anything, Master. But will you tell me?"
He reached out, patting her head gently with one hoof. "You don't remember, Moss Flower? It wasn't supposed to be so soon, and it wasn't supposed to be you. But what else was I supposed to do?"
Bit stared at the empty chair, more confused than ever. If only the Wizard could come back now, she would finally understand enough to properly learn from him. How many years had she squandered mopping floors and cleaning windows?
Bit finished mopping, with the same attention to detail she had ever had. Then she carried her tools out back, and threw them down. Bit watched for over an hour as they vanished into the thick, stinking detritus piled into the disposal. Someone should probably have cleared all that by now, but that wasn't her purpose. Somepony else could fix the sewer.
When Bit finally made it back up the stairs, she found the pair of automatons waiting for her, exactly where she'd left them. They seemed to watch as she came into the crystalarium, entirely unmoving.
"Are you like me?" she asked the broken one, still resting in the maintenance rack. She found one of its many visual sensors, staring directly into it. "Do you look at me the way I used to look at Crimson? Are you waiting for me to give you purpose?"
Silence, of course. Automatons did not speak. They could signal each other with radio, but she didn't have any of those sensors. Or did she? She hadn't found the reference material the Wizard must've used to make her, not yet. The rest of his documents had described working with a corpse, instead of a living pony, not the way to make life from scratch.
"I don't know," she told them. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Save Zircon from hunger and cold? Why should I?"
Again, silence. She ground her teeth together, increasingly frustrated. If only Pathfinder was awake already, then maybe she would have someone who could help. At least he knew what it was like to be a regular pony. He might be the only creature who could help her in all the world.
She slumped into a cushion—not because her limbs were tired, but because it was the thing to do. Crimson had taught her how to do that whenever he didn't know how to proceed. She leaned back, staring at the cracked machine in front of her. The damage went deep enough that she could see its core visible underneath, a silver octahedron about one liter in volume.
"Can you feel pain?" she asked. "The first time I was cracked, I demanded to know why it hurt. I was meant to help ponies overcome all their weakness, why leave me vulnerable? He told me it wasn't a weakness—pain warns us that we're damaging ourselves, and prevents us from causing further damage. "
The cracks on this automaton were incredibly severe, bad enough that she heard crystal shifting when it moved.
The automaton jerked in its rack, as though shifting its weight from one arm to the other. But it was already docked perfectly, and it hadn't slipped. Was that... trying to tell her?
Her frown deepened as she considered. "We were never meant to make war machines," she told it. "In fact, there's only one crystal mold in this whole building."
Bit rose, walking past the two of them to the storage closet. She dragged out the single oversized block of foam from within. She pulled it all the way to the basin against the far wall, finally wrenching it apart.
The foam had done its job: the soft membrane underneath had weathered the years remarkably well. There were a few faint cracks for her to repair, but that was all.
The mold was a pony, of course. Bit slid down to one side, resting her head into one of the openings. It nestled perfectly around her, like the pillows that Crimson slept with. Even her mane was an exact match.
The mold had separate spots for each limb, then the torso. Attaching everything together was where the magic came in.
"I'm afraid we only have one option to repair you," she finally said. "That damage is too severe for adhesive. We need to dissolve and rebuild your crystal matrix. Do not be afraid, the process isn't painful. But I don't know what it will be like to wake up with a new body. Perhaps you will tell me."
The automatons hung from their maintenance racks. Whatever twitch she thought she'd seen did not repeat. Was that a good sign?
For the next few days, Bit worked. Keen Ardor was true to his word, and sent engineers with further questions to her door. She didn't let them inside to distract her, instead settling a portable terminal beside her, and answering them while she labored.
The damaged automaton allowed her to deactivate it without resistance. If anything, it seemed relieved as the glow within its chest finally went out.
The other crowded closer, keeping the camera on her terminal aimed at her face. "Yes, I'm quite sure water is an ineffective lubricant for the turbine. For its many strengths, crystal makes a poor bearing. There's steel bearings in the center. It can last a century if kept properly lubricated. If not, we may need to replace it before we can get them to spin again."
"I don't know if there is a foundry large enough to cast a baring so huge," the engineer said. A mousy-looking earth pony mare who hid behind her thick glasses and never met Bit's eyes, even when watching through a screen. "The Forge Union may not approve wasting so much metal."
Bit shrugged. "Then the turbine won't spin. You cannot negotiate with physics. These laws are always proper, and always absolute. Even if the baring seems to imitate the proper shape, you cannot just scrub away the rust. There is weakness underneath. When it accelerates to working speed, the turbine will shake itself apart."
Bit froze, settling the jar of powdered silicon onto the nearest counter. Something was shaking itself apart right now. She turned to the screen, expecting it had started playing a video or something. But no, the mare just watched her, looking just as confused.
Then her eyes flicked up at the ceiling. That wasn't a turbine shaking itself apart, that was breaking crystal. "We will need to speak again later," she said abruptly. "My patient needs me, goodbye."
She turned, galloping away from the lab and up the stairs. She took them two at a time, and cleared the landing to Crimson's lab in less than thirty seconds.
She wasn't quite there in time to see the hatching, even so. The membrane of brittle glass now lay scattered on the floor, floating in a sea of an oily liquid that could've been rock-polish.
Standing fetlock-deep in that soupy mess was an earth pony—except it wasn't. The spotlights overhead shone through Pathfinder, an amber crystal with a few speckled shades where his short mane and tail now hung.
His body wasn't smooth and perfect like hers—there were rough patches, bumps, and imperfections, most concentrated where the necrosis had been most severe.
He spun as she approached, watching her with translucent eyes. "Bit? Wizard, I... what's going on?"
Bit wasn't sure exactly what that slime was on the floor, but she didn't care. She splashed through it, stopping within reach of Pathfinder and prodding at him. "Before I tell you anything Pathfinder, I need to ask you a question. Please answer however you feel is most appropriate."
His ears pressed flat, as flexible as she was. But she could already tell that from the way he moved his legs. Not the tail though—that was so short it was barely a stump. Still more than he'd had when she treated him. "What? I'm the one who doesn't know what the hay is going on. Why do I feel like I just drank five kegs of baking grease?"
She ignored the question. It was her turn to ask. "What is your purpose, Pathfinder?"
His confusion only deepened. "My purpose? I don't know what the buck you're talking about, Wizard. I'm not part of the unions, if that's what you mean. I never learned a trade. Now can you tell me why I feel so bucking strange? Why I look like..."
He trailed off, anger replaced with fear. His eyes settled on her, mouth hanging open. "Just like you.”
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Oooh, two (maybe three) of them now? Things are heating up :)
btw
2 missing "" around she corrected.
bearing
Memories survived intact. That seems like a success.
Fufufu. We are success! I'm confident that this will rapidly become far more interesting.
Go, Bit, the first living crystal; and her companion, the Pathfinder!
This place is heating up
Let's hope Pathfinder reacts not too horribly to his change
Perhaps a trip down memory lane ??
Well her reputation as the wizard is set in stone her knowledge of lost technology and pathfinder, it gonna shock the whole city when he leaves the tower
Bit might be doubtful about serving her purpose, but even Crimson would be proud of even the little things she has done for the people of Zircon. Crimson would certainly be proud that Bit vindicated his crystal pony theory with the successful surgery of Pathfinder. Bit has surpassed him now. Though I suppose this is the moment of truth. If Pathfinder doesn't accept his new reality, there's no way the rest of Zircon will accept Bit. Her relationship with Zircon will end before it really begun.
Indeed. The strongest counterargument she could present to Zircon; she's acting emotionally.
Ah, the conflict of political expediency and cold, hard reality. There's no persuading friction, folks. µ is a harsh mistress.
And Pathfinder's up and about! Mostly. Those chunks should buff out. Maybe. Hopefully. Look, the brain's intact and that's what matters. Now to see how he and the rest of the Union react.
It's official. I am shipping this engineer mare with Bit. She's totally got a crush on the intelligent, wise,
sexymachine pony.Well, because it was the only way to save you. Good news is is you've surpassed her sorta.
Great chapter
Of all places to catch up
If they sell it right - I think many might find it a fair way of getting an extra shot at life.
Now for the next big question to come - if done the way Bit did - will the subject maintain the ability to do magic?
Well how about that, it worked!
As any proper, intelligent machine should, Bit must calmly remind him that he agreed to that treatment.
Whether he really did doesn't matter. He can always off himself if he didn't like it. He would be dead otherwise anyway.
Oh god, he gonna flip on her even when it was the only way to save his life now it just the degree he does his flipping on her...
Next time on Anemoia: Pathfinder's existential crisis.
Yes, it can be hard when you don't know your purpose. The question becomes: is there enough self-determination to find a new one?
Making a note here: huge success! Now to begin testing... Bit didn't know she had a fear, but she totally anticipated a reset of sorts from the procedure. Luckily this was not the case.
Stone? Oi!
You tell 'em, girl!
Wait, there were more crystal cities? Oh holy carp, there actually was a whole Crystal Empire, wasn't there? King Zircon really mismanaged that place
He's still in there! Personality retained! IT WORKED!
Well, you consented to the treatment
Betcha he's still fully functional and anatomically correct... and now he's compatible, too!
Remarks and corrections:
> to cast a baring so huge
> Even if the baring seems to imitate
Should be "bearing"
Nice. Embrace the no-mop life Bit.
Success!
Goodness I'm surprised it took me so long to come across this work. Amazing work!!
I feel cheated
Dan ean Daaaaaan this will be goid
magic was something for living ponies.
Live.
You Master isn't gonna happy living in a tower with no working toilets Bit.
She found one of its many visual sensors, staring directly into it.
I thought they didn't have any.
The rest of his documents had described working with a corpse, instead of a living pony, not the way to make life from scratch.
Hasn't put two and two together?
He told me it wasn't a weakness—pain warns us that we're damaging ourselves, and prevents us from causing further damage. "
Indeed.
"Bit? Wizard, I... what's going on?"
Thank goodness he recognizes her!
Bit wasn't sure exactly what that slime was on the floor,
Pathfinder's old body.
Well. While it wasn't what she expected (she expected him to become a utilitarian rationalist like her), but it worked out perfectly. His memories, personality, and sense of self are completely intact. Which is ultimately for the best, otherwise she WOULD have a blood thirsty mob on her hands. Nothing helps a crisis more than having someone you can direct all your anger at over something that has nothing to do with your problems!