Fire Trot With Me

by SuperTaster

Last Call

“Are you sure this is the place?”

“Positive! The fact you’re questioning it means that it's working.”

“I… guess?”

Grey skies churned overhead, and Dylan wasn’t keen to be in the rain. Truth be told, he wasn’t keen on a lot of things that ‘could’ happen today. The closer he got to something that felt like absolution, the more readily he could see invisible fiends of paranoia hiding in every misstep. Leaving the car behind, someone would surely ask. Two college age students, wandering towards the docks district without any sign as to their purpose. He felt shady, or at least thought he did, and that was enough to send the skin prickling with anxiety. Like an old nightmare, of being asked to walk through roaring flames without being told how to do it safely, or if there even was a safe way across.

He’d liked coming to the library, as a kid. But that was when the city had money to fund libraries, a wondrous time when humans weren’t dividing themselves across the most bizarre of hatreds. Dylan highly doubted that anyone a few years ago would have believed the horses of the apocalypse were far more literal than intended.

“We’re not actually breaking and entering,” Iris offered, metal scraping on concrete as she procured a crowbar from behind the library dumpster.

“Oh! Good.”

“It would look weird if there was an actual entrance. Luminous Blaze told me they had one of the boards not quite boarded up, with only one nail.”

“Leaving a crowbar around for anyone who just happened to try exploring the ruins of society.”

“Would you rather do a secret handshake and codewords to get in?”

“...as long as you don’-” *CRACK* “...make a loud noise.”

“It’s fiiiine. You’re such a worrier. Cmon!”

The library wasn’t quite as he remembered it, though enough of it remained to be concerning. The skylight dome far above let in the barest of light, trickling down across motes of dust. About half the bookshelves were standing, with the others toppled or just sold to the highest bidder. An old motivational poster still hung to its last staple, proudly declaring “You can’t spell TEAM without…!”, to which Dylan muttered “Meat”. Whatever the actual answer was, it had been ripped off. Purposeless destruction, the sort he hoped to get far, far away from.

“So what made you decide?” Iris clicked a little light on her beanie, because of course she’d be prepared. “To enlist, I mean.”

“Emigrate, isn’t it?”

“Whichever E word you wish. Thought you were ‘waiting to get your affairs in order’.”

“Mmm.” Dylan followed at a distance, occasionally pausing to stare at the library lost. “There was a Glue Factory rally.”

“So? They have their Ponypad smashing parties all the time.”

“It was outside an elementary school. Little girl there, 6 years old maybe? Had something pony-related on her backpack.”

“...oh.” Iris stopped, trying to remember the code for the archives room. Way to break concentration, man. “She alright?”

“Scarred for life, probably. Police just kinda sat there watching it.”

“F**king rude.”

“I think they were hoping the parent would come by? Then the mob would have an actual pony-supporter to stone.”

“People are messed up, man.” Aha! 1413. The keypad gave a happy little beep, proud that its puzzle had been solved at last. The door slid open, revealing a hallway entirely devoted to a long, gently curving ramp. Clearly the right spot; the lights actually worked in here.

“Some people don’t like to feel left behind.”

Maybe that’s what they all wanted, or tried to ignore that they wanted. People like the police didn’t want to be told that their entire lives, everything they had succeeded at was meaningless in the face of a digital world that Earth couldn’t compete with. The despondent and the disgruntled were all too eager to accept that their failures and trails of misbehaviors were meaningless in the face of a second chance. To the remainers, every emigration was a slap in the face, a reminder of the imminent mortality of their hopes and dreams. To the leavers, every straggler was a reminder of those they left behind in search of more stable hooves.

The library’s basement seemed to have escaped the dilapidation above. Warm lights on fake wood panels, a door that managed to still have all its hinges. A few old whiteboards marked with the last employees to have graced the establishment still hung, but someone had drawn a few happy little ponies on it. The top of the board now proudly read: ‘If you could be anypony, who would you become?’

“Ponies do like to decorate, don’t they?”

“If you had your own digital space to make fancy, without worrying about the cost, wouldn’t you make it nice and spiffy?”

“I guess.” But it wasn’t digital, and there certainly was a cost. Not to the ponies, or the silly marker artist, but to the people left behind. The shell of a library that once was certainly cost a great deal in the minds of those who missed it.

Iris opened the door, revealing that the archives had long since been emptied. The long chamber was lined with shelves of plastic bins, made to form airtight seals for protection from the elements. Yet there was only a spare book or two here now, the little ones that nobody had wanted.

Dylan’s eyes were more drawn to the creature that greeted them. A silver pony stood in the middle of the chamber, examining a set of modern computers that had been very recently wired up. She stood about five feet tall, with a mane of fiber optics and a hide of sleek rubber. A few bits of plasteel glinted in the light though, and no matter how delicate the little pony was made to look, it clearly was the most powerful piece of equipment in the room by far. Was the red cross on her flank supposed to comfort them? He wasn’t sure; a bad habit that seemed to follow wherever CelestAI applied her influence.

“Hi there! I’m Scarlet Crux, and I’ll be taking care of you. Dylan Wainwright and Iris Bordeaux, correct?”

“Yep! That’s us.” Iris all but pounced on the ponybot, eager to see such a thing up close and personal. At the very least, Scarlet did not seem to mind.

“Are you… actually with the Red Cross?”

“Well, I used to be. Until I crossed over, that is.” Haha. Crossed over. “But nursing isn’t going to go out of style so long as there are humans that need care!”

“So you live in Equestria?”

“Yep! This body’s all remote. We don’t want to risk an uplink over a wireless connection, but the other way around is quite safe.”

The more Dylan stared at the ponybot, the more he began to unclench. There was a difference here, not just in the way it looked. This machine was custom made, custom fitted, complete with extraneous decoration like the mane and the tail. It was made to be a quality experience for the pilot, even knowing that the bot might not make it out intact. That level of care and attention, of concern about how the pony felt rather than whether it would perfectly accomplish its task… CelestAI was someone who took great care of her ponies, if nothing else.
If only the same could be said for those on Earth...

“Scarlet, I thought we had done everyone?” A voice rang out from the back of the room, and Dylan looked past the pony for the first time. The back wall had been vacated in favor of two silvery metal pods, covered in a series of tubes and hooked up to impressively large batteries. One of the pods was open, showing a rather plush interior that looked more at home on a starship than an uplink pod. A tall man in a labcoat stood beside it, or perhaps leaned upon it, age having gotten the best of him a long time ago.

“We’re trying to fit in these two.”

“Isn’t it a little late?”

“Just go, you’re already prepped. The faster you’re done, the faster I can take them.”

The doctor made no reply, only to begin pressing instructions on his pod.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing that will be in your way.” They both frowned, not quite liking the misdirection. “This town isn’t exactly pony friendly.”

Iris stared at the door they came through, half expecting some horrible monster behind it, wearing the face of a human and the clothes of a guardian. “Is this place safe?”

“Hah!” Scarlet wiggled her ears, looking up at them. “Don’t you worry. Even if something happens, they have to get through me.” She bapped a hoof against her chest for emphasis, the dull *thud* making her point. “If you’re really concerned, then let’s get a move on, shall we?”

“And the other doctor?”

“Doctors. They’re going on ahead of you. In a few minutes, there won’t be any humans here to be in harm’s way.”

They followed Scarlet over to the pods with a slight clip in their step. “So how does this work? No one actually, well… told us.”

“Mostly just pleading about how there would be very few places to uplink from soon.”

“That is true, but you’ve made it in time. All we need here is a quick little injection.” She waved towards two syringes already prepared. The liquid inside was… almost a mercury color, if a bit desaturated. This was safe, right?

“Nothing else?”

“Nope! Prep work is pretty fast these days.” Scarlet set about grabbing the syringe, a strange combination of magnetic force and tiny adjustments to the surface of her hooves. “This will make you sync with the machine much faster. Once we’re done, take your shirt off and hop in the pod. You can keep the rest on, it just needs bare skin to connect with.”

Iris screwed up her eyes at a very particular corner of the ceiling, decidedly not looking at the rather large needle going into her. Yet the care was utterly precise, the application of synthetic skin over the wound merely an afterthought. The color didn’t match, but then again, she wasn’t going to be using her skin for much anymore.

“It’s not bad, Dyll.”

“One last needle before the end.”

“Just lie back and think of Equestria.”

“Har har.”

It really didn’t feel like much at all, to be honest. There was a prickling zap just before the needle made contact, something to desensitize the nerves? The more he saw of Equestria’s meticulous attention to care, the more he detested how long he’d put the whole thing off. You could have been a pony months ago, when the riots weren’t flaring up and the police weren’t-
[Connection Terminated]

“Wait what?” Iris was almost to the pod when the mechanical voice resounded.

“Don’t worry. I told you, we aren’t uplinking over the internet.” Scarlet smiled, all but shoving Dylan along. “The humans think they know how we operate, but they use tactics that would only work on humans.”

A red light blinked incessantly on the monitor, though Dylan was too far away to see. “Just hop in. It’ll be like that gentle drifting before sleep. Promise.”

There was definitely some sort of noise going on outside. Not quite a police siren, but perhaps the cacophony of twenty of them all fighting to see who could be the loudest. Throwing his jacket off, Dylan jumped into the pod. Soft padding caught his landing, though the chamber happily reminded him to [Turn Around]. [You are facing the wrong way].

“Gee thanks. Couldn’t have guessed.”

The pod door hissed shut, and he tried his best to be comfortable. Relaxed. Not in imminent danger. How exactly was one supposed to act when facing the end of fleshly existence? Should you thank the body for getting you this far? Dylan didn’t know, but his mind insisted that he ponder the topic. It was the least stressful of all possible things to think about right now, and serenity was at a premium.

“Police! Hands up!”

The door burst open, blurry blue shapes taking position. Something… was happening out there. Somewhere he couldn’t reach, couldn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t need to. A gentle voice was telling him to simply watch, and accept the sensations as merely that. Things without meaning, things that could not harm, for how could blue ever cause you harm? Be at peace, little human. Your exodus is nigh.

Dylan still felt fear, a little, when the viewport cracked. Metal pellets, almost in the shape of the little dipper. But they didn’t even begin to penetrate the glass, and his last sights were of a synthetic pony charging the violent wave of blue. It was so much easier to sleep, after all.

Comments

[mishun]

The back wall had been vacated in favor of two silvery metal pods, covered in a series of tubes and hooked up to impressively large batteries.

[LilacBreeze]

Ooohhh it's getting good