Subterranean Homesick Alien
The auto-cab carried Turing Test over the city. She was going to somepony’s private gallery where they’d display their latest creations and go on and on about how their work represented their suffering.
As much as organics can suffer in this world, she mused to herself, lazily looking out the window at the city below. She paused for a moment at that last thought. Ah. Perhaps Choco Mint was right; my thinking really has become more spiteful lately. She was starting to wonder if perhaps she should take his advice and repent, so she tried to think more optimistically about today’s activity.
With her third eye, she’d already perused the art. She had little taste for art in general anyway, and this was no exception, but at least the gallery showing might make for some interesting conversation should she find someone who wasn’t completely boring. Not likely, but there was always a chance.
As the car zoomed along, she was scanning the buildings and districts below. She hadn’t been to this part of the metropolis before, and thought perhaps there might be something of interest there. Even at hundreds of kilometers an hour, she could scan and download a snapshot of the places she was passing in milliseconds. The area she was passing was a mass of restaurants and shops that slowly gave way to arcades and casinos before those terminated, and she found herself above a noticeably older part of the city. Many of the buildings were abandoned or occupied by storage facilities. It was a place of unused, forgotten things, just waiting to be demolished or repurposed. Existing, certainly, but mostly just waiting to die.
She was about to cease her scans and turn her third eye fully back to Maud’s grave for the duration of the cab ride when something caught her notice.
A blank spot. Far below, at the bottom of this section of the city was a place where no cameras or sensors of any kind existed.
A Dead Zone! she realized. Such places were not easy to find. As a result of their nature, you couldn’t really do a search for them. Reports about them were generally referring to momentary, pre-planned outages in the network or disruptions due to electromagnetism or even the odd, occasional accident. Real, permanent Dead Zones were different. They were only noticeable when you went looking for something and then didn’t find it.
Her interest was piqued. Some of Celestia’s facilities were Dead Zones, of course, usually for the protection of curious ponies who might inadvertently stumble into a toxic waste plant or something equally hazardous. This, however, did not seem to be one of Celestia’s. She wouldn’t put such a place in the middle of civilian areas, even an unused portion like this.
How puzzling…
She grinned. “Driver, cancel destination,” she told the auto-cab. “I have a new destination in mind.”
She walked along the old concrete sidewalk toward the Dead Zone. She was on the bottom level of the city, where buildings from the old days still stood, preserved either by care or lack of it. That is, somepony either cared enough to save these structures or cared so little as to not even bother having them torn down. Looking up, she saw the pathways and buildings and streams of traffic that formed a latticework that nearly blotted out the sun, leaving such low areas almost perpetually in shadow.
It was like being at the ground floor of a jungle, shrouded in the shadow of the forest canopy.
She eventually came to the spot which, from her perspective, was the equivalent of a blank spot on a map inscribed with the warning “Here there be monsters.”
It was a factory. Or had been, once. It was made of brick and had sliding garage doors on one side and tiny square windows near the roof. She scanned databases for any public records about the place, but all she could tell was that it had once been a manufacturing plant owned by one of the old corporations from the time before Celestia… and that it was now owned by a private citizen.
So private, in fact, that the owner’s name was not a matter of public record.
Turing looked around. No ponies were in sight. No cameras or sensors. Anything she did, or anything that might happen to her, would go completely unseen once she entered this sector.
She crossed the street, approaching the factory.
I cannot guess what is going to happen. I have no idea where I am going or what I will find in there. This may not be proper conduct… but for once, it is actually exciting!
She approached the door. It was locked, though the lock looked like it was almost as old as the door. A large sign on the door read “PRIVATE PROPERTY - NO TRESPASSING.”
She considered stopping there, but decided that, at this point, any consequences of breaking in would be better than another dull party with more vapid organics talking about art that just looked like scrap metal or microwaved plastic or like somepony had simply scooted his hindquarters through paint across a canvas.
She diverted power to her servos and placed her hoof on the lock. She began to vibrate until the lock shook and the tumblers fell into place. She pressed on the handle and the door opened.
She found herself in a small room. It was an antechamber that might have once been a lobby. It was pitch black inside with white, painted brick walls and a bare concrete floor. Modern machinery lined the walls and robotic arms hung from the ceiling, though they seemed to be inactive for the moment.
At the other end of the room was a large garage door that would slide up into the ceiling. Through the narrow windows in the door, she could see darkened shapes, but she wasn’t certain what they were.
As she approached the door, she detected a scanner activating. It sent out a blue wave of light that very quickly swept over her, getting an exact look at her height, weight, and appearance.
Suddenly an alarm blared and a heretofore unseen steel door shut behind her, preventing her exit. Sensing danger, she looked around for a way out when the robotic arms above her came to life and seized her by each of her limbs, hoisting her into the air and suspending her there helplessly.
“Ah… I am sorry!” she cried. “I did not mean any harm! I was only curious!”
An electronic voice called out “Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert! Trespasser has been detained at the entrance!”
Suddenly the alarm ceased and she heard something approaching from inside the factory. It sounded like something made of metal, and she spied long, spindly shapes moving toward her inside the factory.
An intercom nearby came to life and she heard the voice from the being inside: “Hmph. Can’t even take a nap in peace, it seems. All right, what’ve we got today? Another trespasser? A lookie-loo? Urban explorer foals with nothing better to do? Or maybe somepony who’s dumb enough to think that you can steal from me just because there’s no public surveillance?”
“I’m sorry!” Turing Test cried. “You are right. I was only curious, but I should have respected your privacy. I will leave now if you let me go!”
The voice on the other end of the intercom grumbled. “You should know my scanner took your data. It’s programmed to not let anyone in except me or someone I give clearance to, and you don’t look like anypony I know, so… um… wait, what the hay?”
The voice murmured for a few moments, but then gasped. “Oh my gosh… you’re… hang on, I’ve got to see this!”
The lights came on and the door at the end of the antechamber slid up. The pony with whom she’d been speaking now came into view.
At first, she only saw the long, segmented metal appendage, hearing it as the metal clanked on the hard concrete floor. Then the pony came into the light, and Turing tried to process what she was seeing.
The pony was a young mare with a cream-colored coat, a brown mane, a black jacket and red spectacles. But around her barrel was a strange device from which protruded four long mechanical arms. She used them like a set of strange, flexible stilts to walk like some enormous alien beast as they held her in the air. Each limb terminated in a hand with slender metallic fingers. Two of the front arms reached up and took hold of the metal rafters above them as she raised herself to Turing’s level.
She came in close, almost muzzle to muzzle, to look her in the eyes.
The mare stared at her with open-mouthed fascination.
“You… look just like a pony,” she breathed.
Turing feigned swallowing. “Of course I do,” she replied. “That is what I am.”
The mare shook her head. “Not according to my scans,” she said. “You’re a Familiar!”
Turing only stared back at her in silence.
The mare rubbed her chin with her hoof. “But why are you here? Did your master send you here? Why would they do that?”
Turing lowered her head. It was pointless to lie, she realized. “I have no master,” she said. “I am a freemare. I came on my own.”
The mare gawked at her. Then she smiled. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, that’s great!” she cried. Then she paused, realizing what that meant. “Oh, no, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just, um… well, here, let me get you down!”
The mare went back inside and tapped on a nearby control panel. A moment later, the robot arms gently placed Turing back on the floor.
“Don’t worry,” the mare said. “You don’t need to hide from me; I won’t hurt you! Sorry for what I said, but it’s just that I have so many questions to ask you! Ah, but I probably shouldn’t get ahead of myself…”
She blushed, setting herself down onto her hooves as she cleared her throat. “My name is Gadgette F. Giroux,” she said, bowing politely to her. “But you can just call me Gadget.”
Turing said nothing for a moment, but then decided to introduce herself. “I am Turing Test,” she replied, placing a hoof on her chest.
“Turing!” Gadget cried, lunging forward and seizing Turing’s hoof, a manic grin on her face. “This is so great! I’ve always wanted to meet a freed Familiar before, but my research and investigations never turned up anything! I have so much to ask you! Won’t you please stay and talk with me for a while? Pleeeease?”
Turing wasn’t sure what to make of Gadget, but her reaction to finding out Turing’s secret was considerably more positive than anypony else’s so far.
And while this experience was certainly weird and confusing, it certainly wasn’t boring.
At last, she smiled. “Very well,” Turing said. “However, in exchange, I have some questions about you as well. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes!” Gadget cried, clapping her hooves together excitedly. “Yes, of course! Please, come in! I’ll show you around!
Turing Test entered the main floor of the factory, but had to adjust her ocular sensors as Gadget flipped on the bright overhead lights.
Though she had no natural inclination to gasp, she nonetheless felt that this would have been an appropriate time to gasp for anypony else.
The factory floor was divided into several different sections, each of which was littered with heavy industrial equipment, most of which was woefully out of date. In each section, Turing spied different machines in various stages of production. One area, for instance, was dominated by blueprints (many of which were rolled up and placed in a pyramidal pile) with crude sketches and notes written on whiteboards. Another area was littered with small, half-finished devices that looked like the work of a demented toymaker from centuries ago. Other areas contained larger machines whose purposes she could only guess at, some of which were covered with sheets to keep off dust.
Above the main floor, however, was a network of grated metal walkways bordered with railways, and, strangely, a complex web of cables and pegs sticking out from the plain brick pillars that reached from the concrete floor up to the rafters.
“Welcome to my workshop!” Gadget cried excitedly, spreading her long mechanical arms dramatically as she held her chin up high. “In the Old Times, it was a manufacturing plant for the Vanderbull Heavy Industries corporation. But now it’s my home, my laboratory, my studio, my everything! Isn’t it wonderful?!”
Turing Test continued looking around, unsure what to say. “You are… some sort of tinkerer?”
“Pfft!” Gadget hissed, rolling her eyes. “That makes me sound like someone just doing this in their spare time. This isn’t just ‘tinkering,’ Turing Test; this is my life! My work!”
Turing Test met her gaze, observing the enthusiastic, half-crazed smile that spread across her face.
“I,” Gadget said, raising herself up with two of her mechanical arms, “am an engineer. An inventor! A scientist! I am a master builder devoted to the art form of technology, and this is where I work my magic!”
Turing Test slowly nodded. “I see,” she said as she continued walking, coming up alongside Gadget. “Then what sort of things do you build here?”
“Whatever I like!” Gadget said, galloping over to the area with the blueprints. “Here, for example, I’ve been working on creating better air purifiers and water filtration units for the lunar colonies. And over here—”
Turing watched as she reached upward with her mechanical arms to pull herself first to a walkway above her, then to a peg on a nearby pillar, then to swing from one taut cable to the next until she’d swiftly traversed the length of the factory faster than any ordinary pony could run until she’d placed herself atop a half-covered machine.
“—is a submersible designed to let ponies tour the Mareianas Trench with a panoramic view! I really think I’ve nailed the design this time!”
Turing Test trotted over to her, observing her breathless excitement with a mixture of confusion and, she had to admit, amusement.
“Those seem like… unique ideas,” she said.
Gadget raised an eyebrow. “You sound a little skeptical.”
Turing Test hesitated, but then nodded. “In all honesty, those sound a bit superfluous,” she said. “The water purifiers and air filtration units on the lunar colonies are very efficient. They are constantly monitored and replaced with little or no disruption to the lives of the colonists. Likewise, there are very few ponies who engage in direct deep sea aquatic tourism, as most can achieve similar things through neural-linked VR. They could experience the Mareianas Trench perfectly without ever needing to go there.”
Turing thought that perhaps Gadget would be perturbed or even discouraged. To her surprise, however, the young mare just grinned.
“You’re right,” Gadget said, nodding gently. “You’re absolutely right, Turing Test. It is all superfluous. It’s not necessary in the slightest. And for all my work, I’ve yet to actually achieve my goals, close as I’ve gotten: my submersible hasn’t quite beaten the simulations just yet, and my filtration units are just shy of being as efficient as Celestia’s. But if you really want to talk superfluous…”
Gadget again hauled herself up onto upper walkways and swung over to another area. Turing observed that her movements were something like a spider navigating its web, or a monkey swinging from jungle vines.
Turing tried to follow her, but then Gadget hit a lever and a set of stairs slowly lowered, as if inviting her to come up to the higher levels.
Turing ascended the newly-revealed metal stairs and saw that Gadget was using a series of mechanical pulleys to lift up the large piece of machinery under the sheet at the far side of the factory.
Gadget rushed to her side and then reached over to the sheet covering the machine, pulling it off with a dramatic flourish.
“Behold!” she cried. “The Blues Drive Monster, Mark 2.35!”
Turing did indeed behold the machine, though even with the sheer amount of data contained within her quantum computer brain, it took her a few extra nanoseconds to register what she was looking at.
It was a vehicle of some sorts. It was designed to fly, or at least to hover, and move at great speeds, but it was rustic and unfinished and personalized in a way that no Celestia-sanctioned vehicle ever would be. The cockpit was broad and contained controls not only in front of the pilot’s seat, but above it, so that it had a strange, double-deckered layout to it.
Such a layout might have some advantages, Turing thought to herself, trying to understand the logic of such a design, but it would be impossible for a single pony to operate it unless they possessed multiple—
She paused, glancing at Gadget, who was still grinning and gripping the rails of the walkway as she stared at her creation. Her long, spindly mechanical arms twitched in anticipation, their claw-like metal fingers flexing in strangely rhythmic time.
Arms. Ah, Turing concluded.
“You designed this aircraft—”
“Hovercraft,” Gadget corrected.
“—hovercraft for your own use, correct? You intend to pilot it using your prosthetic limbs?”
“Exactly!” Gadget cried. “I knew an advanced A.I. like you would get it! I didn’t even have to explain it!”
Turing Test stared back at her. “Why?” she asked flatly. “Why would you build this?”
“Well, why not?” Gadget asked.
Turing paused, realizing that this wasn’t meant as dismissive; she genuinely wanted Turing Test to give a reason why one would not design a highly-experimental and custom-made vehicle such as this.
But the question made no sense… nothing about this strange mare seemed to make sense.
If a pony wanted to get somewhere, there were plenty of private and public means of transportation to get them there with perfectly-attuned automated drivers. If a pony wanted to race, as this machine seemed designed to do, then plenty of perfectly-designed, officially sanctioned racing machines could be provided. And they would be far safer than this monstrosity.
This mare, Gadget, was doing work that nopony needed to do anymore. Celestia and her endless network of hyper-intelligent machines were doing all the science and inventing that anypony needed. Organic ponies couldn’t keep up, and why bother doing all that studying when robots could do it so much better?
Unless, that is, that pony wanted to waste their time. Unless, despite the complete lack of need, that pony wanted to do research. To mix the chemicals. To build those machines. To make those discoveries.
To dig in the earth and feel the weight of it, the texture of it, in one’s own hoof. Even if nopony needed it. Even if it was silly and superfluous.
Turing shut her eyes. She did indeed understand Gadget now, for she shared something in common with another pony she’d known before.
“This is… your passion,” Turing Test surmised, opening her eyes to look at Gadget. “You are doing this for the sheer joy of it. Even if you may never measure up to Celestia or the machines, you are willing to try and do things for yourself.”
Gadget gave a start, inhaling and slowly exhaling through her nostrils. “Wow,” she said breathlessly. “I mean… yeah. You got it in one.” She swallowed. “I mean, you really got it. I’ve tried to explain this to other ponies before, but… but somehow you understand it perfectly!” She smiled. “That’s why I built these babies, you know,” she added, holding out her mechanical arms and wiggling the metallic fingers demonstratively. “It’s rough for an earth pony to build all this stuff by hoof, so I made these. With them, I can do all the work myself. They're custom made, like everything else you see in here.”
Turing Test offered her a calm smile.
“You really are something special, Turing Test. I’ve met other Familiars, but you… you’re...”
Turing shook her head. “It is just a matter of luck,” she explained. “Your passion reminds me of somepony else.”
Gadget blinked. “Really? Who?”
But before Turing could reply, Gadget froze, making the connection.
“Oh,” she said softly. “Your… partner. Er… master? They were a scientist?”
Turing nodded. “A geologist,” she replied. “She was fascinated with rocks. She saw the stones out in the barren, uncivilized lands of the world and read eons of history in them. She told them to me.”
Gadget nodded. “She sounds like a fascinating pony,” she offered.
“She was,” Turing replied, bowing her head. “But she is gone now. And I am certain your Familiar is grateful to serve such a unique and independent thinker as yourself, just as I was for my master.”
To Turing’s surprise, though, Gadget sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, no point in putting this off anymore,” she muttered. “Turing, I don’t have a Familiar.”
Turing Test gave no outward reaction, yet internally every part of her rejected what Gadget had just told her. For though she often told other ponies that she personally had no Familiar, in reality she knew that such a thing was virtually unheard of. Only close-knit, wild communities of backwards ponies in technophobic reservations rejected Celestia’s gift. Some resisted or delayed accepting the gift, but ultimately they saw the light and accepted the perfect love and companionship that only a Familiar could provide.
Gadget looked young. Perhaps she was just such a holdout. That was the only explanation.
“You, uh… you probably have questions, right?” Gadget asked.
Turing Test nodded slowly.
Gadget nodded back. “Okay. Let’s talk, then. I think we’re both just scratching the surface of things here.”
She then reached up and hauled herself to an even higher level of the facility. Turing heard her pressing a few buttons and a few more staircases were slowly lowered noisily, providing her with access to the third level of the factory.
“Come on up,” Gadget called from above her. “My personal quarters are in the northwest corner of the factory. I’m gonna brew some coffee while you head up.”
Turing Test said nothing, but trotted along the walkway and up the stairs, her hoofsteps echoing throughout the cavernous factory as she ascended into the domain of this strange girl.
In this alien place, this secret cavern of digital silence deep beneath the glaringly bright metropolis above them, Turing’s head buzzed with a thousand questions and, for the first time in recent memory, she found herself genuinely interested in hearing the answers...
To be continued...
Subterranean Homesick Alien - Radiohead
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I really like where this seems to be going. And I can't wait to read more!
I love gadget. mare after my own heart.
I think turning will learn something important here.
Gadget to the rescue! She may just be the pony that Turing needs in her life. How I wonder where this will go and I eagerly await more
'found', right?
Go Go Gadget Friendship! May Turing and Gadget have many happy seconds together.
11064733
Oh well, at least people seem to be enjoying the chapter!
Yay! Gadget!
11064749
That's how it works! Those sneaky little typos hide wherever they can.
Is Gadget supposed to be named after inspector Gadget? If so does that mean she is secretly a robot too? That would explain why she lacks a familiar as well. But this is all wild speculation with nothing substantial to go off of just yet.
I wonder if we will see Sweet Apple Acres at some point in this story, I would be willing to bet that they are a 'technophobic reservation' as well with what Trenderhoof said about them. Would be interesting to see their reaction to a freed robot visiting their land and being discovered, although I also wonder if it's legal for Turing to visit Apple Acres as well if it is a reservation?
I was thinking this would be an excellent opportunity for Turing to get brain scans from Gadget (provided she is in fact an organic) to fill out her programming with more satisfying activities. I felt sad she would never understand the beauty of a loving relationship to the fullest possible and maybe she could develop her own likes/dislikes with things like smell and food since this story implied there was no point as she could discern the information of what something is without any satisfaction for those sorts of things.
Loving the story thus far and am eagerly awaiting the next chapter! Keep it up!
Sincerely,
Stemo
"She was starting to wonder if perhaps she should take her advice and repent"
"She was starting to wonder if perhaps she should take his advice and repent"?
"She approached the door when she detected a scanner activating."
...Hm. Technically functional prose, but I'm not understanding why she would do that. Did you mean something more along the lines of:
"As she approached the door, she detected a scanner activating."?
"first time in recent memory, found herself"
"first time in recent memory, she found herself"?
And I continue to enjoy this story; thank you for writing. :)
11064749 I swear, the 'Publish' button randomly inserts three typos every time.
11066474
I'll see about fixing those, thanks!
11067171
I wonder if I do it subconsciously so Reese here has something to do.
11067547
No problem! :)
Oh, uh, sorry? :D
Probably not, though; it does sometimes feel to me like typos can only be brought to asymptotically approach zero, as no matter how many people have looked at a work how many times, something's gotten through anyway. :D
(Oh, also, just checking, you saw my previous comment 11060682, right? You didn't reply to that one, and I know FIMFiction can sometimes fail to notify people of replies for reasons still unclear to me. No problem if you just didn't have anything to say, though, of course, just making sure you had a chance to have something to say or not.)
The odd mix of pre-Matrix kind of World and supposed Utopia. Those “ backwards “ ponies are probably the sanest. After all, cresting a slave race can’t possibly backfire. A race programmed to have the hardest Stockholm syndrome I’ve ever seen.
How ironic that while they create a robotic slave race the rest of their society is basically run by robots and Machines.
11067630
Of course I'm grateful for your assistance! And I did see your previous comment, but I wasn't sure what to say without sticking my nose too far into your interpretation of the story. But I'm glad you're enjoying it and interpreting things in your own way.
Oh, you know I tease.
11067948
That's a pretty good way to put it.
Ironic indeed... but it's funny how people often overlook the irony in their daily lives.
11070135
"
"Oh, you know I tease.
:)
"Of course I'm grateful for your assistance!"
Thanks. :)
"And I did see your previous comment, but I wasn't sure what to say without sticking my nose too far into your interpretation of the story."
Ah, righto; no problem, then.
"But I'm glad you're enjoying it and interpreting things in your own way."
Thanks. :)
You are giving an insight into how we find purpose in a universe that lacks meaning unless we provide it ourselves, or a poison pill that deconstructs the reality we cocoon ourselves within. I. Am. Fascinated. And await the next installment breathlessly.
You MUST enter this contest. I am surprised I didn't find your entry.
https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/970771/science-fiction-contest-11-nov-2021-06-jan-2022
11074386
I actually have considered it, but I fear that it will exceed the max word limit by the time it's finished. I need to finish first to see how much it goes over the limit, but I am flattered you think it would be a good entry!
11074842
Contact Bicyclette and explain.
11074872
Well, let me finish it first. Then we'll talk.
11075567
Ah, I wasn’t clear. I had a length problem with Love Friendship and Gangsters in the M/M contest. My discussion with Bicyclette leads me to understand you will likely earn a pass. I initially put the story in the Ongoing folder for the contest. I strongly recommend you ask now not later.
To be even more clear: What you have written is genuinely good SF, and even unfinished, will remain worthy of recognition.
11075579
Well... you do make a convincing argument. I'll think about it a bit more, but I'll try to expedite my decision.
Looks at title "That's a song?"
Ok, I'm going to go out on a limb here, and just believe that all video links in the Author's Notes are Unavailable, and that you should fix/replace all of them, please Hat Man. Also, please state what the songs are as well as the names of the artists who sang them, so if this happens in the future, we can all look it up on Google or our respective search engines. Please and thank you.
11102504
All chapters are named after Radiohead songs, which the author linked for convenience in the footer. The videos play for me fine.
Serendipity.
Gadget is such fun!
11102504
Blame YouTube and the publisher for blocking them in your region.