Imperatives

by Sharp Quill

20. Consider it Dark Magic

Discord shook his head in disappointment. “That tree is Harmony, my sister. She took that form to stabilize the world; her roots go deep and wide.”

“Wait a sec!” Meg leaped to her feet. “You mean that when I was zapped by the Elements when I first came to Equestria, that voice I thought I heard… it wasn’t my imagination?”

He shrugged. “What can I say? She prefers to work from behind the scenes; that ‘tree’ notwithstanding, she barely exists in the physical world as you understand it. Me? I’m more hands-on.” He sagged. “That led to some… irreconcilable differences. You humans were the problem.”

“Never heard that before,” Meg sarcastically said. “So what was it? You, I know, have always had a fascination with us. Sis couldn’t understand that, or something?”

Discord snorted. “Hardly. She was just as fascinated as I was. The problem was what to do with you. She wanted to go Prime Directive, observe but not interfere. I wanted to interact, to have fun.”

Meg resisted pointing out that humans were not his toys. He had reformed a long time ago; he knew that now, if he hadn’t then. Besides, it was ancient history.

Which begged the question: “How long ago was this? When did you clone the Earth?”

---

The Zephyr rested motionless over Discordland. Meg checked her phone: about ten minutes until Sunset Shimmer opened the portal to Andrew’s living room. Twilight hadn’t come along; Meg hadn’t even been able to interrupt her research long enough to get the princess to book this airship. Fortunately, it turned out that a Royal Advisor had the authority to do that—something she finally learned only after grabbing a moment of Celestia’s attention.

The only question was whether Discord would show up. Andrew had wanted the meeting to be ASAP, and she had no reason to deny him. It wasn’t as if the draconequus would be more likely to show up a week later instead of the following morning—or maybe he would, but how could she know that? Naturally, attempts to reach him were unsuccessful.

“Might as well get going,” she said to no one in particular.

She went over to the intercom. “I’m leaving now.”

“Understood.”

The door to the outside opened—no teleportation this time. Meg leaped outside into the air and spread her wings.

Nothing below looked any different, nothing new that looked like a hotel or a parking lot. Probably not the best sign.

There was Pandemonium Plaza. She easily passed through the barrier, thanks to the token hanging from her neck next to her pendant.

A minute later she touched down. Nothing to do but wait for the portal to open. She waited by one of the planters. Okay, that was different: the battle royal of colors had been sped up, no missing the shifting colors now. A better sign, hopefully.

Meg looked around. Still no Discord.

She checked her phone. Ten more seconds. How precisely would Sunset time it?

Quite precisely, as it turned out; for as the clock struck ten, the portal appeared in the center of the plaza. Through it she could see Andrew and his living room. The others were behind him, waiting for him to take the first step through.

Discord still was nowhere to be seen. Might as well do his job, she figured, stepping up to the portal. “Welcome to Discordland, the Discordiant Place in the Multiverse.” She waved a hoof to invite them in. “It’s, uh, what it says on the entrance.”

Andrew stepped through, looking around.

“Discord hasn’t shown up yet, but hopefully he’ll be here soon.”

Penny, Head of Charity and Sponsorships, stepped through next. “So this is it? His theme park.”

“Sure is. This is Pandemonium Plaza. Just don’t eat the flowers.”

Tyler, Head of Events and Programming, came next, bearing a look of confusion. “Why would we? Am I missing something?”

Meg sighed. “Ponies eat flowers—never mind. Best not to even touch them.”

Joe, SILICon Vice-President, headed straight for the nearest planter. “The colors are moving about?”

“That’s the ‘pandemonium.’ They’re fighting each other. That’s what Discord told us, anyway. And eating a flower will infect you with the chaos magic animating the battling colors.”

Elaine, Head of PR and Marketing—and brother of Eric Tanner, one of the five who had been in Tartarus—was the last one through the portal. “Is there anything else people should not eat or touch? It’d look kinda bad from a publicity standpoint. Just saying.”

And the one person who’d know the answer to that was still a no-show. “I’ll have to circle back to you on that. But I can say that Twilight was also bothered by flowers that ought not be eaten, and she will work to ensure that the appropriate ground rules are in place.”

Andrew wandered around the plaza’s perimeter, taking in the view. “I’m not too worried about that. A lot of bronies who come here would like to experience some chaos magic. It’s just a matter of…” He shrugged. “I dunno. A ‘safe word,’ perhaps? Some way to say enough’s enough and oh-god-end-it-now?”

“Sure,” Elaine said, “that way we could promote it as part of the experience.”

“No objection from me,” Meg said. “But the one who must address this is, uh, not here yet.” If he’ll even show up. It seemed less likely with every passing minute.

“What about Twilight?” Andrew asked. “I know that’s not who you’re referring to, but any reason she’s not here with you?”

Meg glared at him. “Actually, there is. She’s in a library researching how to get rid of that damn anomaly.”

Joe smirked at Andrew. “Gotta admit that’s a tad more important than us, right?”

Penny pointed up into the sky. “What’s that?”

Meg looked up in that direction. “That? That’s the airship I took from Canterlot.”

“Looks big. Any chance we can go on board?”

Meg shook her head. “No, there’s a barrier around this theme park that you can’t pass through. Discord has provided me with means to pass through,”—no point in hiding that fact, as it would otherwise lead to the obvious question—”but not for any of you.” Nor was she going to potentially trap herself here so one of the others could leave. “That barrier also keeps out critters from the Everfree Forest next door.”

“We’re next to the Everfree Forest?” Elaine asked.

“That’s what I said,” Meg singsonged. “The opposite side from Ponyville. Too far for most pegasi to fly.” Like me.

“Any possibility of seeing those critters through the barrier? That might be something worth promoting too.”

“Maybe? Can’t say I’ve noticed any myself, but I haven’t really looked either. I imagine Discord could do something about that.” If he would just show up.

“Discord. Discord. Discord.” Penny giggled. “Couldn’t hurt to try.”

Nor was it productive. “Guess he’s not Beetlejuice,” Joe said.

“Could you give us a tour of the place, Meg? Do the rides work?”

“Not really, Andrew. I’ve barely explored this place myself. I do remember Discord complaining about one ride not working right or something, so it’s definitely a work in progress.”

“Do you know what he’s planned for a hotel and/or parking?”

“I’ve mentioned it to him, and he said he needed to think about it.”

“And I have!”

All eyes turned to the draconequus and… “Fluttershy?” Penny asked. “That’s really you?”

The butter yellow pony ducked her head behind her mane and inched closer to Discord. “Sorry, it’s my fault Discord was delayed in coming here.”

“Now, now, my dear. You mustn’t blame yourself.”

Meg stepped forward. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here?”

Elaine also stepped forward. “Are you interested in being a Guest of Honor at our convention?”

“We’ll have that conversation at a different time,” Meg quickly interceded. “And quite frankly, if Fluttershy does appear, it should only be in the presence of the other five.”

“I quite agree,” Discord declared.

“Oh, absolutely,” Elaine said. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Thank you,” squeaked the pony in question. “Anyway, I wanted to see Discord’s theme park, so I asked to come along.”

“And I tried to explain it’s a work in progress, not yet ready to be experienced.”

“But you’ll be showing it off to them.”

Meg decided to end it there. “I think we see why you were delayed.” Fluttershy blushed and Discord rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a problem with you being on the tour, and I’m sure none of the others do either.” Nodding heads all around. “But so you know, we do have a need to check the place out now, before it’s done, so we can make preparations in time to hold the convention. By then, of course, this park must be finished.” Didn’t she once hear that on Disneyland’s opening day the drinking fountains didn’t work? “For some definition of ‘finished.’”

Fluttershy smiled. “I understand.”

Andrew retook control of the conversation. “So, Discord, what are your thoughts on hotels and parking?”

Discord perked up. “I definitely intend to have a hotel—and this time have it done right. Parking can go beneath it. Have the portal go there, right into the parking lot. As for location…” He snapped his talons and they were all transported just outside the theme park. “Right here. I’ll have to move the barrier a bit further out to make room, of course, but right over there is the Everfree. Not too far of a walk, and you’d be able to walk right up to the edge.”

“And see dangerous critters?” Elaine asked.

Discord put paw to mouth and whistled. Timberwolves emerged through the trees and glared at them. They moved side to side, but did not leave the forest. “Like that?” A small manticore joined them, its barbed tail pointing in their direction.

“Perfect.”

“Is that a juvenile?” Fluttershy asked. She started walking over to it. The timberwolves started to snarl.

Penny grimaced. “Sure hope that barrier holds.”

“So little faith,” Discord griped.

The barrier was invisible. Meg hadn’t seen a token on Fluttershy, so she should be okay. Yet something didn’t seem right. Those creatures couldn’t see the barrier either, so why didn’t they bump into it? That couldn’t be happening, because they weren’t being turned around.

Fluttershy didn’t bump into it either, stopping well short of where it probably was.

“You want to see them close up?—er, closer, anyway—well, come along.” Meg trotted over to Fluttershy.

She didn’t look back until she had reached her; they were coming. “You’ve probably noticed the Zephyr up there,” she told Fluttershy. “If you want, you can fly back to Canterlot with me afterwards, over the Everfree—no, I can drop you off in Ponyville if you’d prefer.”

Discord was beside them. “An excellent idea! There is so much more to see of that forest than that tiny bit near your cottage.”

“You can come along too, I guess.” Not as if Meg could stop him, after all. And it rendered the lack of a token for Fluttershy a non-problem. “Hey, is there a reason they’re not touching the barrier? I find that odd.”

Andrew had joined them. “How do you know they’re not touching it? Sure looks to me like something’s holding them back.” It sure wasn’t holding back the frustrated growling, now quite audible.

Discord gave him an eager smile. “Why don’t you touch it yourself and find out?”

Andrew froze in indecision. He turned to Meg. “Would I regret it?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s perfectly safe. Disorienting, perhaps, but harmless. Just walk into it, even run into it; you won’t feel a thing.” She turned to Discord. “You haven’t answered my question.”

He displayed mock offense. “Wasn’t my fault I was rudely interrupted.”

Meg sighed. “Fine. Everyone: don’t interrupt this time.”

“Ahem.” He waited to make sure no one would interrupt. “Your answer is that there is another barrier, just outside the first, that behaves like a boring, unimaginative barrier. A necessary sacrifice on my part to create the best viewing conditions of the local fauna.”

Fluttershy smiled. “And your future guests will appreciate your kindness and consideration.”

“Ahhhh,” Penny whispered. “That’s so adorable.”

Fluttershy blushed while Discord went “Hmph.”

“I’ll take a pass on the barrier,” Andrew declared.

“That’s fine,” Meg said. “You should know it forms a dome around the entire theme park. It’s to keep humans in as much as to keep the local fauna out. No entering Equestria from here.”

“What about underground?” Joe asked. “Can you dig under it?”

Discord stroked his goatee. “Haven’t yet come up with a sufficiently imaginative solution for that.”

“How will ponies get in and out?” Elaine asked. “Or will they be visiting?”

“Yes, they will be,” Meg said, “I’ll make sure those issues get onto one of Twilight’s lists. Why don’t you take us back into the theme park, Discord, and give us a tour?”

Fluttershy eagerly nodded. “I can’t wait.”

---

“Twilight?”

The timing was perfect; Twilight could use a break. She lifted her head from the latest of many tomes she had been perusing. “Yes, Spike?”

Her assistant threaded the aisles of bookcases, homing in on her voice. “Got a message from Serrell.” In his claw was a thin stack of paper.

Twilight levitated it over. It was a printed e-mail. The message was simple enough. The observers had been selected—their names were listed, including a short bio for each—and were ready for her vetting. All that was needed was a time; they had already decided to put the portal in a hotel conference room.

She needed to see Applejack first. “Let’s aim for early afternoon, one P.M. his time.” That’d be ten A.M. Equestrian time. “I’ll confirm that by tonight.”

“Gotcha.” He waved a claw at the pile of books. “Making any progress?”

Twilight slumped, her head falling onto an open book. “Yes and no. If I knew exactly the value of certain parameters, it’d be trivial, but I don’t. I need to make the spell adaptive to the situation at hoof, and there isn’t any good way of doing that.” She sighed. “I really wish there was a magic computer that could be programmed. Then it’d be simple enough. Have it magically analyze and respond to the environment, computing the necessary values to plug into the spell.”

“Maybe you’ll invent one? You know you’ll succeed; you just don’t know how yet, right?”

“Right. But there’s no way I’ll invent a magic computer in any reasonable time frame—yes, I know, I could send it into the past once I do, but if that’s what’s supposed to happen, what is Future Twilight waiting for?”

Spike tapped a claw to his chin. “Just guess what the values of those parameters are? I mean, you have to guess correctly, right? Because it’d be a paradox if you don’t?”

Because it’d be a paradox if I don’t. Twilight swept him up in her hooves, giving him a humongous hug. “Spike, you’re a genius!”

“I am? Well, of course I am! Uh, which part of that was the genius part?”

Twilight closed the book. “Guessing the correct way would avoid a paradox!”

“Is that what I said?” He buffed his chest with a claw. “I guess I must be a genius.”

She got up and hurried for the exit.

“Wait! Don’t forget about Serrell’s message!”

“I won’t!”

---

The quantum random number generator website presented itself on the monitor.

“Now what?” Twilight muttered.

She got up and paced around her bedroom.

In principle, it was simple. Generate a stream of random bytes, which will form a quantum superposition. Convert them into the parameter values she needed. Only those bytes that yield a set of parameter values, a set that adjusts the anomaly to be what they had already observed, would have a non-zero amplitude in the wave function; all others would result in a paradox and hence must cause the wave function to destructively interfere with itself, yielding a zero amplitude. And probability was just amplitude squared.

The trick was figuring out a way to convert those random bytes into useful parameter values.

“If only Meg was here.”

She had yet to return from Discordland.

But Twilight felt she ought to be able to figure this out herself. She had read enough human books on computers. It should be easy to do—but mess it up, then the parameter values would be garbage, and the time travel spell would most likely fail.

Okay. So there’s no real harm in messing that up. Just keep trying other approaches until time travel happened.

But there were so many approaches. Practically an infinite number, if one allowed arbitrarily convoluted…

She shook her head. “No. I’m over-thinking it.” The approach didn’t matter. So long as it could yield any number in the range of useful parameter values, there would exist a sequence of random bytes that would produce the correct values.

A floating-point number as used by computers could represent such values. It’s how the magic simulation software operates, after all. And how did a computer represent a floating-point value? As a sequence of four or eight bytes.

Perfect. Just use the random bytes directly as the parameter values.

She started up the random number generator, then stopped it once the screen filled with hexadecimal digits. There were five parameters, so forty bytes were needed—she had decided to use double precision, because more precision couldn’t hurt. She moved the mouse, selecting and copying the required number of bytes, starting at the upper-left corner. Next, she opened up an editor and pasted them.

They still needed to be turned into five floating-point numbers.

Meg could probably write the program to do that with her eyes closed. Twilight sighed. She really should make the attempt herself.

She compromised. First touch bases with Applejack. If by the time she got back Meg still was absent, she’d give it a go. Maybe she could even go back in time to that warehouse alone to complete the task, sparing Meg the bother. So long as the time travel spell worked, Meg’s presence wasn’t required to avoid a paradox. And why would it?

---

The trip to Sweet Apple Acres to see Applejack: done. Confirm appointment to vet observers for 1PM EST, tomorrow: done. Turn hexadecimal bytes into floating-point numbers: pending.

Twilight had taken a crack at it—several cracks, actually. But she was missing something, and it was taking too long to figure out what it was. Anyway, Meg ought to have returned by now.

Flying back to Canterlot, she spotted the Zephyr; hopefully, Meg would be back at the lab.

And that did, indeed, turn out to be the case; in fact, she was the only one currently there. She explained the problem to her.

Meg swiveled her chair to face the keyboard. “That’s trivial,” she said, confirming Twilight’s suspicions, as her fingers danced on the keyboard. “The magic incantation is ‘type punning.’”

Twilight smirked. “Did you say ‘magic?’”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Consider it dark magic, like use it only when there’s no other alternative. Anyway, you set up an array of bytes like so… read off the bytes for the first number.”

Twilight did so; she had printed them out. Meg typed them in.

“Now you take the address of the first element… cast it to a pointer to double, like so… now dereference and print on standard output. A little bit of boilerplate so it all compiles… save…compile… and execute.”

A number appeared on the screen. It looked reasonable enough for the first parameter. Twilight wrote it down. “Four more numbers to go.”

Four times the process was repeated, and four more parameter values were written down. All looked reasonable.

“Shall we get it done?” Meg asked.

“You read my mind.” Twilight trotted over to a cabinet and retrieved the crystal ring. A few seconds later and a new spell was layered on top of the one already there, designed to trigger the anomaly correction spell precisely when the anomaly creating spell was cast within the ring’s center—assuming, of course, that the time loop computed the correct parameter values. “Let’s go.”

She went to the usual side tunnel, the one set aside for time travel. When Meg arrived, she did so on hooves. Twilight nodded. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Twilight cast the time travel spell.

Nothing happened.

“Trying again.”

Nothing happened.

Two more attempts; nothing happened.

Meg stepped back. “Try without me.”

“Can’t hurt, I guess.” Meg’s presence wasn’t strictly necessary, after all.

Four more failed attempts.

Twilight sighed. “What are we missing?”

“I dunno. It doesn’t make any sense. We know we’ll do it and succeed.”

“Not that we’re allowed to go back and observe ourselves doing it,” the alicorn grumbled.

“Could the two be connected somehow?”

“Hard to imagine how,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Even if this crystal ring is the wrong solution, it is not a paradox for us to go back and observe our future selves implementing the correct solution, so long as we eventually carry it out.”

“Yet there’s a paradox somewhere.”

“I know.” Twilight started back to the main cavern. “Maybe we have to bring the observers back first. Can’t imagine why, but there’s only one way to test that hypothesis.”

“Guess so. Are you ready to vet them?”

“Tomorrow morning. It’s all set up.”

“Just you and Applejack, right? And Discord, I suppose.”

“That’s right. How did your trip there go?”

“Pretty well. Discord was quite helpful, for a change—oh by the way, Fluttershy showed up with him.”

That made Twilight stop. “She did?”

“Yeah. Wanted a tour of the place. Discord had tried to talk her out of it. Obviously failed.”

“Okay…” Twilight resumed walking.

“It wasn’t a problem,” Meg said. “They gave her her space, so to speak. She also flew back with me on the Zephyr—with Discord.”

Will surprises ever end? “Did the ship survive his presence?”

“Didn’t lay a claw on it. Guess he was too focused on giving Fluttershy a running commentary on the flora and fauna of the Everfree we were passing over.”

Well, that didn’t sound so bad.

“He’d bring samples up, of course, every now and then, for Fluttershy to inspect.”

And that didn’t sound so good.

“But he always kept things in check—though, I have to admit, I kept my distance for some of them.”

Twilight sighed. “Well, Discord will be Discord.” If it made Fluttershy happy, then that was good enough for her.

“And Fluttershy will not be there tomorrow.”

“That’s for the best.”

“Oh, by the way, the satellites were not included in the displacement. Some cool, time-lapse images of the Earth have been released. Pretty much as expected. By the end, only infrared cameras were able to really see anything.”

Twilight pondered that as they continued walking. “Any reaction to that?”

“Not really. First, we knew the satellites would remain in orbit—”

Meg stopped dead in her tracks.

Twilight turned around to face her. “Meg?”

“The paradox… maybe we did overlook something.”

“Like what?”

“Gravity.”

“Gravity?”

“Yeah, gravity. Why doesn’t the anomaly fall?”

“Well, obviously because it’s supported by… the…” Ground? But that didn’t make any sense. It was consuming the ground underneath it, like the air all around and above it. So why did it stay in place?

“Exactly. So maybe we need another corrective spell, one to keep it from falling all the way to the center of the planet.”

“But I didn’t detect another spell; I should’ve noticed that! Maybe the anomaly is immune to gravity?”

Meg shook her head. “That ain’t how gravity works. In some sense space itself is flowing down. Everything flows down with it, unless something is actively preventing that. Like the ground. What we experience as weight is the ground pushing us up, accelerating us upwards—upwards relative to space flowing downwards.”

Twilight grimaced. “And the ground can’t push on the anomaly, because it’ll just consume it.”

“Hence we need another spell.”

Twilight resumed a slow gait. “Which I didn’t detect.”

“Could you mask it so that you wouldn’t detect it?”

The alicorn sighed. “I think so. And I should be able to get around that masking, if I did it the way I think I would.”

“Another trip to the anomaly?”

“Another trip to the anomaly,” Twilight repeated with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

Meg stopped and put hoof to forehead. “Right. Before I forget. There are two checklist items concerning Discordland I have for you.”

Comments

[BoltAshera]

Twilight and Meg are really getting tired of all these time loops. And we know there's loops spanning centuries going on too.