Day 9 - The Wobbly-leg Frogger: 8/9
“Hooves off your cocks, and on with the socks!” Chrysalis pushes the door of the drone suite open, quickly realizing her choice of words is entirely lost on the drones dozing around who raise their heads, immediately stand up afterwards, and line up for inspection.
“We don’t have any cocks, Your Majesty, I think,” reports 36658 as the only present representative of the older drones, “But 65536 said they had a bunch of critters in the city on the other side of the island. 20100 can get you some shinies, but it’s with the painter pony several rooms thataway!” it ends up pointing to the right.
“Socks sound neat, though,” 99380 smiles, “The hive mind says they’re warm and comfy leggo covers. I wonder if they trade those for shinies too. Or maybe we could make them out of goop. How about that, 99526?”
“Do I need to eat anything specific for sock goop? 99111, you’re the technological kind.”
“I’m not sure…” the drone tears its eyes away from the blackboard covered in 10101’s diagrams, “From the hive mind picture it seems like a bunch of stringy noodles somehow put together. Maybe-”
“Stop! Focus!” Chrysalis stops looking at the robot standing next to the blackboard by the wall, raises her hoof and all drones look at her again, “10013 said you were all starving after last night and I’m here to feed you. It would be more fitting for you to come to my place but I decided to stretch my legs instead,” she walks over to 36658 at one end of the line and her horn lights up, “I’ll take it slowly, so you can tell me what you’re doing in the meantime.”
“Resting, Your Majesty,” says 36658, “99526 and I are listening to the radio. 99111 and 99380 are memorizing and trying to understand 10101’s pictures and ideas. I don’t know where 10013 is, though.”
“It didn’t come back here?” Chrysalis raises an eyebrow but doesn’t elaborate, “99526, did the griffons in prison do anything to you?”
“One of them gave me a metal cup with water before sleepy time but they didn’t let me keep it when I was leaving,” reports 99526 dutifully, “I didn’t have any shinies on me for a trade. Too bad, it looked sturdy.”
“Did they hurt you in any way, I mean?”
“Nope,” 99526 shakes its head, “They yelled a lot but that must have been because my ears went all underwater-y after all that sneezing. I was okay when 10013 woke me up earlier, though.”
By now, the soothing glow of Chrysalis’ horn has refilled 36658 whose fog of exhaustion lifts and its traitorous head reminds it of something major - The Queen doesn’t just come and feed the drones on her own, and since she isn’t ordering them to do anything with the provided love…
36658 checks the table containing their points.
No, no no no! 10013, why?! We were fine, just a bit hungry. Very hungry, but that doesn’t mean you should have spent all your points on this. We were safely in the lead. Now 99111 can win with its nonsense! HIGH SCORE is on the line!
“Responsibility,” a single word appears in 36658’s mind, unprompted and untraceable.
High Score’s memory is more important than a few drones being temporarily hungry. We could have rested up and dealt with it. Or maybe everyone could have used their own points to get refilled.
“10013 feels responsible for all of you,” the voice doesn’t seem to surprise 36658 at all.
We are all responsible! We must make sure we don’t lose everything once the old days return. The idea of High Score was something drones made up ages before me and 10013 to pretend life was worth living but 9999 made it clear what High Score really should be!
“10013 isn’t High Score. No one can fulfill your ideas of High Score. Not even 9999.”
36658 grits its teeth and doesn’t answer this time. The voice is right, but 36658 is sure that so is its idea.
“Your Majesty?” it asks out loud, “Can I leave? I want to talk to 10013.”
“You got your recharge and I don’t need anything from you,” Chrysalis shrugs and flicks her hoof towards it, “Off you go.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” 36658 rushes out via the balcony and takes flight.
***
“Now add a banana-”
“One yellow curvy coming up,” mutters 20100 to itself.
“-a red banana-”
“Why are you so mean?!” whines 20100 without any real malice or harm in it.
“-that’s hidden behind that grapefruit so well that you can only see both tips.”
“Hnnnnngh!” 20100 grunts, narrowing its eyes at the bowl, hoping to change the quantum state of reality so that the specified banana will just appear and be easier to draw.
Reality fails to bend to 20100’s will for once, so it sighs in the end.
“Do you want a reference?” asks Trestle after a while of watching the drone frozen with indecisiveness, hoof raised with a brush stuck in a hole specifically grown for it.
“...yesplease…” 20100 blurts out in one breath. To its immediate horror, Trestle doesn’t put a banana behind the grapefruit, and instead he takes a rolled up newspaper which he bends into the correct shape and puts it in place of the required banana.
“Lesson… next one - reference objects and general shapes,” Trestle smirks at 20100 giving him a pouty glare, “We already know you can color something in the wrong way, so let’s move onto the more difficult thing.”
“To quote 99111 - grumble grumble!” huffs 20100.
“Do you want to take a break?” Trestle doesn’t skip a beat. This isn’t his first time teaching somepony, and it’s clear that the drone wants to learn despite many unexpectedly unique brick walls stopping it. Venting is to be expected, and no matter the drone’s complaining it’s not losing its desire to keep going.
“No,” 20100 shakes its head, “A bonbonana is just a tube, a bendy tube… draw a tube… you’ve seen a tube before… pick a color that doesn’t fit… it’s not lying, it’s… wishing for… no… it’s showing how things could be… bendy and red…”
*Knock knock!*
“Keep going,” Trestle nods at the drone who glances at the door, walks over and opens, revealing 99.
“Greetings,” says Trestle in an official manner, “Can I help you?”
“Hi, 99!” 20100 waves at her cheerfully, “We’re draw- painting, wanna join?”
99 gives the painter a courteous bow.
“May I borrow 20100 for a moment? It’ll be quick.”
“Of course,” Trestle moves out of the way as 20100 trots over.
“What’s going on?” asks the drone.
“Nothing to worry about,” 99 smiles, “10013 just spent its points to give you guys a refill, so I’m here and the Queen is in your suite.”
“Oh shoot!” 20100 rubs its chin, “I gotta give 10013 some shinies or something. Hey, Mister Trestle, can we take that break, after all?”
“Certainly, I’m not holding you here,” Trestle laughs, “Besides, we’ve been at it for- huh, nearly three hours? Time sure flies.”
99 presses her horn against 20100’s forehead, saying:
“Maybe you could find a gift for 10013. I doubt it needs bits as such.”
“Hmmm,” 20100 ponders the suggestion.
“There are a number of tourist shops at the port. If your friend likes something weird there should be a good selection,” comments Trestle, “Come to think of it, I wanted to visit a few places myself. Do you want to come with me? I can recommend to you what to buy to practice drawing on the go.”
“That sounds great!” 20100 beams, “I’ll just go get my shinies.”
“Do you trust this pony enough to be alone with him?” 99 asks mentally.
“Yup!” 20100 replies without hesitation, “I’ve been alone with him all this time and he didn’t try to munch me. And he likes painting even more than I do! He can’t be a baddie.”
“Heh, just be careful. We’re still on a mostly griffon island,” 99 raises her head, “All done. How are you feeling?”
“Not hungry at all anymore,” 20100 salutes, “And ready for a trip!”
“Then go pack any money you want to spend and meet me outside in ten minutes,” Trestle looks over the messy room and winces, “I’ll just clean the place up a little.”
***
10013 never thought it would be in a position to want some peace and quiet. Back home, especially under the old rules, drones spent the majority of their awake time on their own, digging or moving objects between storage caves. Passing by someone else was never the time for a quick chat. Even under new rules with plenty of breaky time, there’s been enough space to just let the body work and clear one’s head. Here, though, not at all, and 10013 has been finally feeling it, especially today with the lack of love. That’s why it didn’t return to the suite after reporting to the Queen and receiving a mental message moments after leaving the bungalow that the Queen will visit the drones herself instead of having them go to her.
So there it is, just sitting alone in the shallow water at the rocky eastern edge of the beach, watching the sea move back and forth as the warm water streams around it and through its leg holes. No one is mentally talking, the only resort guests are far enough away so that only the sound of voices reaches the drone and not the words themselves, and it doesn’t have to do anything right now. Unfortunately, peace and quiet is only a temporary concept, because sooner or later it’s inevitably replaced by either a disturbance or worse - boredom.
With a sigh, 10013 stands up, stumbling a little in the wet sand.
“Everyone’s taken care of, so what now?” the drone mutters, walking out of the sea, “I should find someone huggy. Miss Cadance, perhaps?”
10013 looks towards the semi-circle of the bungalows stretching into the sea. The usually visible pink aura surrounding the Crystal Empire’s bungalow is missing, so Cadance must be out of the resort. With the easy solution out of the question, a rocky place reminds 10013 of something else.
“That yoghurt thingy is supposed to be restful too, at least that’s what Miss Cadance said,” it ponders, “Didn’t feel like it to me, but she did say that was just because I wasn’t used to it. Let’s give it a go.”
10013 follows its memories of the yoga set and quickly realizes it’s completely incapable of holding the poses for even as long as before.
Miss Cadance said to just do as much as is comfortable.
“Step by step, a slow progress,” the voice returns, “You’ll do better next breaky time.”
10013 doesn’t bother speaking out into the hive mind. It’s clear by now that the voice can hear its direct thoughts.
I know.
It’s not just words, just something to remind itself and ignore. 10013 internalizes it immediately and adjusts its exercise. It doesn’t overstretch, it doesn’t keep on bending when it hurts even if the pose isn’t perfect, it just keeps going one motion at a time. In the end, it finishes the previously over an hour-long set in half the time. In the final, relaxing pose, on its back, all four legs stretched out, 10013 falls asleep under the warm, early evening sun.
***
“MISS GEM! MISS GEEEEM!!” 65536 calls out again as it’s walking along the promenade, “Blue-” it stops itself from calling out Blueblood’s name out loud. His presence deliberately wasn’t noted down in the tourist logs on Princess Celestia’s request and while it’s not explicitly supposed to be a secret, the last thing Blueblood needs are other nobles making fun of him, spreading rumors, or saying nasty remarks, “PRIVATE BB!”
65536 has been searching the resort from top to bottom for quite some time now with zero results. On Blueblood’s request yesterday it gave him a lot of time alone but since the ex-Prince hasn’t shown up for the majority of the day, a biting thought surfaced in the back 65536 and hasn’t left since.
What if I was wrong after all and left him alone…?
“MISS GEM! PRIVATE BB!” it calls out again to no avail.
‘The thought’ grows stronger.
Of course, every drone knows what the desire to make the pain stop, to never again have to feel the horror of digging through a cave wall and hearing the sudden screeching, to make the barrel-twisting spikes of hunger go away for good feels like. But they also heard rumors that high ranks can keep your mind locked in the hive mind even if your body is gone and punish you for much longer than any drone ever lived. In a way, it was a blessing that their lives under the old rules were so brief because it made the few not terrible moments stand out so much more.
What if someone knew it would never end unless they ‘helped it’? How long could they take it? What if they couldn’t be satisfied by finding a particularly smooth rock, showing the others, and then trading it for a stick that goes ‘swish’ in a funny way?
“MISS GEM! PRIVATE BB?!” 65536 calls out in a shakier voice, its attempts at suppressing ‘the thought’ failing.
None of the vendors, the guests walking around, nor those lying on the beach within earshot reply, and 65536 admits to itself that it needs a break. Only a quick one, though. Locating the nearest bench, the drone hops onto it and takes a deep breath while staring blankly ahead.
These days, not all drones know the feeling. They know the moments of panic, they know what it feels to be tired and hungry, but that’s all tempered by the knowledge that someone will come along to feed them during breaky time. They know breaky time, not just worky time and passed out time.
WE know.
65536’s breathing slows down and grows steadier.
We never stopped working. It took forever. It was excruciating. But it got better.
No. It got better only BECAUSE we never stopped working. It wasn’t a slow progress and gradual improvement, we just kept going until a chance came up.
High Score was just a normal drone, but it stepped up. What would it do these days?
The same thing we, drones, always do - just keep working.
I just wish I knew the right words to tell this to BB in a way it would make sense to him.
65536 wibbles as ‘the thought’ crosses its mind again.
At this point, reality itself can’t handle the normally endlessly cheerful drone being this grim anymore, and immediately materializes a familiar zebra who notices 65536 and approaches it with:
“Hi, little guy!” says Zeri.
To the relief of said reality, 65536’s wibble ends and it gives the zebra bodyguard a weak but genuine smile.
“Hello, Miss Zeri!”
“Neat! Finally someone who can tell us zebras apart,” she sits down next to 65536 with a smile.
“Your names don’t make my tongue all twisted when I get nervous, and you’re the one closest to my size. Easy. How is it going?”
“Pretty good. You’re looking unusually grim, though.”
“I’m looking for Miss Gem and, uhh…”
“Yeeeeah, I was wondering about that,” Zeri’s smile fades a little, “That Private BB you were calling for… would it be Blue-?”
“Shhhh!” 65536 slaps a hoof over its mouth and immediately slobbers over it, “Pffrbfbrb!”
“Ah…” Zeri nods, “I thought so. I might be able to help you.”
“Really?” 65536 puts its hoof down again, “Did you see Bl- Private BB and Miss Gem?”
“I did.”
“Where? When?”
“Ah ah ah!” Zeri raises her hoof, “Something for something.”
“A trade?” asks 65536, “Sure, let’s do it the drone way.”
“Tell me what happened to Blue- don’t shush me!” Zeri frowns, “I’m not talking about ‘Private BB’. Tell me what happened to Prince Blueblood after Zamira reported what he did to 1313 after the invasion. All we heard before we moved to Northern San Palomino was that he lost his title.”
“I don’t know that much because I didn’t come into contact with him before this trip but I can tell you what Miss Gem and Princess Celestia told me before we left.”
“Alright, go on,” Zeri pats 65536’s head.
65536 recaps its briefing about Blueblood’s depression and loss of titles, property, and his current state as well as what 65536 recently considered progress… until now.
“-and I thought he got better so I let him go alone but I haven’t seen him since and I’m afraid he…” 65536 wibbles instead of finishing the thought.
“Hmmm, so he wasn’t lying. We might actually finally be free,” Zeri breathes out before shaking her head, “I guess it’s my turn now. Last night, Pr- Blue- he sought Zamira and 1313 out to apologize and to tell us that neither he nor his family and friends will seek revenge on us for what happened to him. We, of course, didn’t believe him-”
“He did change a bit…” objects 65536.
“No!” says Zeri firmly, “65536, I can understand that you drones are a weird force of good, but what he did to us over the years was...” she scowls, clearly wanting to say something else but settling on, “barely excusable for the money. We just can’t forgive him. However, if we never see him or anyone involved with him ever again as he promised last night, we won’t press the issue. Princess Celestia promised us safety too, but we’re not stupid. It’s too easy to ‘have an accident’ in some backwater hole. Still, I believe you, and if your story is entirely correct then we might really be free,” she repeats, more to herself.
65536 looks down on the ground, its forelegs tapping the bench.
“He left afterwards,” Zeri continues, “I haven’t seen him since. I did see Gem earlier that evening, too,” she points to the empty pier in the distance jutting out into the sea, “She and that changeling Paladin borrowed the resort yacht and sailed west, no idea why but I can hazard a guess that it has something to do with the cruise ship sinking. Since the ship’s still gone I assume they haven’t returned yet.”
“Goop…”
“Were you supposed to take care of him or something?”
“Mhm,” 65536 nods.
“Oof, tough luck.”
The duo remain silent for a moment before 65536 asks:
“Could you help me-?”
“No,” Zeri cuts him off, “I’m sorry. This is the one thing I doubt you could persuade any of us, even Zamira, to help you with.”
“Alright,” 65536 sighs and hops off of the bench, “I guess I should get back to looking for him then. Can’t be resting when he might-” 65536 stops itself, “Thank you for the info about Miss Gem, Miss Zeri.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to be cold to you or anything like that,” Zeri tries to clear things up.
“It’s okay. I understand that Private BB did a lot of bad things not just to you, but…” it ponders how to voice the instinct that’s bouncing around its head, “I’m a drone. Back in the hive, if we failed then we died, no exceptions. If we failed due to us being slow or weak or not smart enough, we died. If we failed because a high rank gave us the wrong orders or forgot to tell us some dangerous detail, we died. If we failed because of anything that was out of our control, we died. Our punishment for anything was that we died. You ponies are amazing. You have this whole system even for the real baddies where you don’t kill them but where you try to show them the error of their ways and give them a second chance. That’s why I joined the Guard, not because I randomly ended up with them as friends. And I believe in BB, that’s all,” it starts walking away again, leaving the stunned zebra on the bench, “As I said, thank you for your help, Miss Zeri.”
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since the characters that are mentioned in the Canon have plot armor (usually OC characters die en masse in your story), then most likely everything is fine with the ordinary BB. But you make me worry.
It's a banana.
No it isn't. Try again. What is it?
It's a banana?
Socks do feel like they need to be a thing with the drones, if for no other reason than just the novelty of it.
Yeah, about that--I thought she was supposed to be under house arrest until everybody else figured out more about what happened with the cruise ship sinking?
Uh-oh! It seems the mysterious voice thing is contagious! Soon we'll ALL have mysterious voices whispering actually pretty good advice in our ears all the time!
Somebody wasn't keeping track of the lesson numbers.
*envisions Bon Bon as a banana*
*wonders why I wasted time doing that*
And we've already had an instance of one having an unhealthy interest in drones, so...can't be too careful here.
I wonder if that's actually true, or just something the high-ranks made up in an attempt to prevent all the drones from committing mass suicide...because, sure, drones are easily replaceable in the hive's eyes, but that doesn't mean it isn't still annoying to do, particularly if it was for a completely preventable and needless reason such as that.
Well, if the drones can all tell each other apart easily enough, I'm sure telling apart zebras is no sweat by comparison.
Well, yeah...but it did still help, admit it.
11553450
Its a small offduty chekoslovakian traffic warden.
11553440
You can't just throw suspension of disbelief out of the window, then drive over it with a steam roller, and finally double tap it with a shotgun for good measure. Buuuut, did you see BB in any of my chronologically later stories, hmmm?
11553450
Is it a banana or are you just happy to see me?
11553675
Those are called 'speed bumps', thank you very much.
11553461
- They would be such a pain to put on and take off with all the leg holes and jagged edges. Not to mention keeping them clean. Plus, digging would break them immediately. Maybe everyone could get a pair from 65536 to wear during breaky time next time it visits for winter.
- She just can't leave the resort, that's all. She doesn't have to stay in the bungalow.
- We do, but it's always drowned out by either the voice tempting us to be lazy, or the one telling us that something is too scary to be worth it, and many others. Or is that just me? It could be just me.
- He's a painter, not a counter.
- *Envisions Bon Bon as a tube* Aaaand here come the R34 ideas.
- Daaamn changelangs! Always steelin ar' womens!
- I'll keep the origin of that idea a secret (because I have no clue) but from what we know about mental skills so far, keeping an alive drone stuck in a hive mind and torturing it for a long time would be fairly easy. Even other drones can stretch time when inside a hive mind "group chat", it's all about for how long. Ripping out a nearly dead drone's mind and keeping it inside the hive mind after the body's death would be possible only for top top top infiltrators and vastly not worth the resources.
- Also, they're not deliberately racist/speciesist. They're decidedly size-ist. The bigger you are, the more spooked they'll be.
- It for sure did, but the redemption idea made 65536 take it seriously.
Well, now you got me interested to find out if you are going to break one of the drones now.
Does these changelings have tear ducts? I don't remember reading any of your changelings having some waterworks before. Because this seems like we're about to head down some heavy stuff for everyone around
11554477
Drones can cry just fine. Smiley cried when High Score died. It usually comes after ineffective wibbling.