• Published 9th Dec 2012
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Out of Place - Dan_s Comments



A human had seen Discord's defeat, how would he act in Equestria? Join the Mane 6 or bide his time? Also, Celestia must face Luna and the NLR, alone.

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Out of Time Part 2

Out of Place - Out of Time Part 2

DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

Burning Bridges (Kelly's Heroes)
Mike Curb Congregation
Songwriter: Paul Scott

Joey tried to help me find a job a while ago.
When I finally got it I didn't want to go.
The party Mary gave for me when I just walked away.
Now there's nothing left for me to say.
All the burning bridges that are falling after me.
All the lonely feelings and the burning memories.
Everyone I left behind each time I closed the door.
Burning bridges lost forevermore.

Celestia looked over her lunch, then to her two dining companions. "So, Eagle," she asked, "How is the operation to allow freer access to Royal information going?"

"Your Highness, you know I can't talk about that with your Majesty or her Nightjesty," Sir Eagle Bell replied deadpan. The two princesses and the head of the civil service laughed at the little joke.

"I'd heard there was trouble, and I thought I could be of service, unofficially of course," Celestia said. Luna nodded, but munched her midnight snack happily.

"The problem is, it is reaching the point of needing an actual leader. Her Nightjesty remains the spiritual head, but for it to work, a less spectacular, but none-the-less dynamic individual needs to be the one ponies turn to."

"Or point their fingers at," Luna added.

Celestia looked disappointed. "And you are having trouble finding candidates?"

Bell smiled. "Quite the contrary your Highness, we've found two, simply brimming with energy, talent, charm, political acumen, and most importantly, new ideas. The problem is, there are two of them, and their ideas are completely incompatible. And they despise each other, cordially of course."

"What are their major differences?" Celestia asked.

"Well, one desires to abolish all government and establish a free association of self-governing "producers": farmers, workers, artisans. These associations would be in touch with other groups through the local labor exchange, which would function as a combination of employment and economic planning agency," Bell said, "Frankly all three of us would be out of a job, at least theoretically. His plan calls for economic strikes as a means of forcing change."

"How would that actually work? The ponies in power now would by and large wind up in power again," Luna asked, "I could see that from the Moon. It would be the tyranny of the majority."

"True, there is the underlying assumption that as all are equal, talents, breed and cutie marks notwithstanding, that leadership would rotate through the entire populace of the group, whether the individual members wanted a chance to lead or not. As you well know, individuals with a talent for leadership would be the de facto leaders, even when it wasn't 'their turn'," Bell said, "Hence the opposition, which is equally disturbing. A minimal government to protect individuals, especially minorities, from any violation of their rights, to prosecute those who initiate force or fraud against others, and, here's the sticky bit, to encourage full utilization of ones' talents for the good of all, presumably through education and experience."

"The 'Cutie Mark Crusaders' of Ponyville writ large," Celestia suggested, earning a chuckle from her dining companions.

"True, your Majesty. Otherwise, everypony else would be free to do as they wished, as long as they didn't use force, fraud or violate anypony's rights," Eagle concluded.

"How would necessary but unpopular policies get enacted under either theory?" Celestia asked.

"They couldn't," Bell admitted, "The security actions by the bearers of the Elements, who owe you their personal loyalty, would likewise be impossible. Moreover, the leaders are so polarized, and so are their factions, that the accession of either would fragment the entire movement in weeks to months. And we do not want that."

Celestia nodded. "I can see the problems," Celestia said, "And the trouble with those views. Besides divesting myself and Luna of any authority or ability to intervene on our ponies' behalf."

"Yes. The solution, of course, is we need a compromise. A leader who is also full of big ideas, yet is reasonable and malleable. Acceptable to both sides," Eagle said.

"Somepony who can be guided to not overly shock the body politic, yet still push the needed reforms with vigor," Celestia agreed.

"Somepony not already associated with either side of the debate," Luna added, "And is open-minded enough to take the bits from each side, and make them a workable, and palatable whole." She looked at the pair. "We are not taking your route of the masquerade, dear sister. We would dearly love to smash in the face of 'Sunny Days', for what she has said about our sister."

A guard approached and bowed.

"Yes Captain?" Celestia said.

"Young Barnum is out there, he seems extremely agitated about something. It might be good to see him," the guard suggested.

Celestia nodded. The guard nodded to the door. Celestia felt Eagle's eyes on her, staring intently. While Barnum was ushered in, she looked at her head of the civil service. She saw the wheels turning, and realized her mind was turning in the same direction. As the agitated colt rushed in with his new guard commander in tow, Luna let out a guffaw, then apologetically covered her face with a napkin. Celestia turned to see the old bureaucrat quietly laughing so hard he had tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh dear," she said, trying not to laugh herself.

"You shouldn't do that to poor, old stallions," Bell said as he got control of himself, "Your Highness."

"I apologize," she said, accepting his assumption that happenstance was directed action, "I agree, it would be impossible."

"Why?" Bell asked, "Your Highnesses' government would welcome a less, intentionally shocking individual."

"Your Majesty, your Nightjesty, Sir Bell," Barnum said, bowing to each, and looking totally bewildered, "I can come back later."

"Oh, no," Celestia said, "We want to talk to you, but first, what brings you here. I thought you were out purchasing machine tools."

"This." He put the handbill on the table in front of Celestia and stepped away as if it were a poisonous snake. He glanced around with nervous little jerks. More agitated than Celestia remembered seeing him. The handbill itself was a stylized picture of Luna, and the phrase 'New Lunar Republic' across the bottom. "Your Highnesses, Sir Bell, that isn't something churned out by a couple of kids with a borrowed printing press. That's a sophisticated piece of work, that means good organization, and a good deal of money behind it." He looked over at Luna. "Forgive me your Nightjesty, but if they are using you as a pawn, or a scapegoat, it would be . . ., have I said something funny?" He looked around in bewilderment at the group.

"No," Celestia said quietly, "You have been both diligent and loyal. Bringing your concerns to us, and reflexively assuming that Luna would not be so disloyal to Equestria, as to be behind the planned overthrow of the government." She paused and smiled.

She was overjoyed when he got it. "You are behind this, this, this -?" He waved a hoof at the handbill.

"Palace revolution?" Bell said quietly, "Of course we are. One cannot have a healthy government without the occasional revolution. Even if it is quietly handled and civilized."

"Please don't tell me that came from me," Barnum pleaded.

"But it was such a good idea." Celestia nodded to Bell.

The old stallion explained, "Our real problem was that to too many ponies, any dissatisfaction with the political process, or the basic social structure, is too easily misconstrued as disloyalty to her Highness. That impression could be used as a club to beat down opposition, no matter how loyal, and nearly any reform, no matter how badly needed. The civil service, as you have pointed out to my niece, is most interested in the continuity of government. Ponies feel so much more secure when they know the rules ten years from now are essentially the rules of today. We attempt to ensure that feeling of security."

"And reform coming directly from the crown, would be perceived as unwarranted intervention, even interference, by the very ponies I would mean to help," Celestia explained, "Odd that my powers, personally, are greater than any other force on Equestria, and my control of the government is near absolute, yet I am hemmed in by that very power. I can only influence, not directly intervene."

"Or you'd be plucking cats out of trees for peo - ponies." Barnum nodded. "But then what is that?"

"With our return, one could be loyal to a princess, opposed to Celestia, and still loyal to Equestria," Luna explained. She drew herself up. "WE INTEND TO LOOSE THE SHACKLES OF ALL PONIES," she trumpeted in the Royal Canterlot voice. Barnum blanched, while his guard commander tried to pull down and crawl inside her helmet. "Including our sister." Luna bowed to Celestia.

The confusion wreathing Barnum bordered on misery. "I'm still missing a big piece of the puzzle," he said.

"Barnum," Celestia said gently, trying to use just her voice to soothe him, "All ponies are herd creatures, it is essential they have others around them. Twilight had Spike, because she needed a companion, or the aloneness of her predicament and place would have overwhelmed her. Likewise, even if a pony doesn't like me, they are still likely to bend to my will, or what they perceive is my will, and fall silent in my presence. Any lone complainant would become merely the grousing of a single, disgruntled pony. A group would be branded treasonous by their neighbors, long before it ever gained a chance to offer reforms, or become a threat. That leaves the lone madpony, which further erodes the comfort of those who openly dissent."

"However, with another princess available," Luna continued, "It becomes possible for a dissenter to still worship the ground a princess walks on and thus Equestria itself, and oppose the apparent wishes of the other."

"We've had a good deal more worry about the 'Solar Kingdom' groups, who have sprung up at the hint of the New Lunar Republic," Bell added, "Who think they are, in fact, defending her Majesty's honor, policies and reputation from the NuLunies."

"Hence your adoption of the Sunny Days face," Barnum realized, "If they have a real and hurtful target to focus on, then they leave your reformers alone."

Celestia nodded. "And once the initial reforms of the New Lunar Republic go through, the Solarians also will feel it appropriate to speak up on their desired reforms and issues."

"While you two are in complete accord and are in fact orchestrating the genesis of this pseudo-rebel group," Barnum said. He looked around confusedly. "Then why was my entry such a source of mirth?"

"Your Nightjesty, have you seen the Intelligence files on our two possible candidates?" Bell asked.

Luna shook her head.

"Sister, you should always ask for the intelligence files on the leaders of any groups you support. Especially if you want a good laugh." Celestia turned to Bell. "If Barnum is to help us, he should see them."

"Help you what? I came here to warn you about a potential insurrection, and you tell me that you're actually running it. With respect, your Highnesses, Sir Bell, I don't see I'm the right person to help you at all."

"Nonsense my dear boy," Bell said cheerfully, "You can be of service to the crowns merely by being at the right place, at the right time."

"We want you to join," Luna added hastily.

"What would be the point?" Barnum asked helplessly, "You already have it well in hand. Her Nightjesty has implied that she's actually met with, or continues to meet with them, as 'Celestia's favorite' I'd be considered a spy, at best."

Celestia grinned and turned to her sister. "That would be an even better idea, you can be a spy," she said happily, "Luna's."

Barnum's rear legs collapsed as he looked from one government mandarin to the next. His expression of hopeless despair tore at her heart. "Why would Princess Luna need a spy amongst her own loyalists? And would I be a double-, triple-, quadruple- or other agent, working for Luna in her agency, while secretly working for Celestia, but really working for . . . whom?"

"Equestria, as we all are," Celestia said confidently.

"Being the confidant of both Princesses, would make you ideally suited to . . . " Luna frowned at the lost thought.

"Persuade myself to the rightness of the NLR's demands," Celestia took up the thread, "And you would be equally placed to moderate the demands to those most acceptable to her Nightjesty, and myself."

"There is also the fact that as Princess Luna's loyalists, they would be unable to bring concerns about her actions directly to her. The same disadvantage that Princess Celestia must operate under: even welcome questions unfortunately imply disloyalty. But a spy is safe to report 'rumblings and concerns' to," Bell said, "After all, you are personally employed by her Nightjesty to sniff out such things, it is only loyal and proper to ensure that your ears hear and your eyes see. They will have done their duty, proven their loyalty, and gotten the information to someone ideally suited to convey it to the Princess. Their Princess' mercy to such grumblers would not be in doubt, it is the other Princess they would have concerns about."

Barnum had seemingly given up trying to understand the situation, and was just trying to absorb the information presented. He looked at whomever spoke with a stare like a pony trying to see a thousand yards away. He nodded as the point registered, but made no reply.

"Perhaps the crux of the dilemma would be of more use," Bell said and produced several files. "I cannot, alas, give you the meat of the files, but enough of a taste to explain the foundation of our perplexity."

He handed over a sheet of paper headed by the seal of the Intelligence service. "A number of mares of both high-birth and easy virtue." Another paper. "Interviews with his charioteer." Another paper with the royal seal. "And a private reprimand from her Highness herself about, embarrassing behaviors at a party. With three women not his wife. There are also numerous instances of experimentation with the wives and daughters of diplomats. Many not of shall we say, typical pony physiognomy."

"Good grief," Barnum said as he looked over the papers, "And he's still a government minister?"

"All participants are willing, and able to give informed consent. His predilections do not impinge directly on his skills. In addition, his wife is equally 'open-minded', and there are some implications that the various shady ladies are a smokescreen," Bell said with obvious distaste.

"Do I even want to know his - their, true appetites?" Barnum asked.

"No, but what is there is enough to raise the flag of 'mad pony' should it come out," Bell said, "His opponent is more mundane, but. Well, there's one from the Fraud Squad. Imperial Revenue. The Bank of Equestria. And the Manehatten Farmers' Bank and Trust, real estate."

"This all is/was legal?" Barnum asked.

"Yes, just very convenient for him, not so much for those who invested alongside him," Bell said, "The media too often confuses coincidence with conspiracy, and he apparently did fail to inform any of his partners of whatever warned him off."

"So the two potential, civilian leaders of the New Lunar Republic can be written off as a pervert and a swindler?" Barnum asked as he handed the papers back.

"Not legally, no," Bell explained as he carefully returned the papers to their correct places in the file folders, "But what must be presented to be proven in a court of law, and what can be tried and convicted in the court of public opinion, are two very different matters," Bell said gravely.

"Hence your inclusion," Celestia said, "They are both deeply flawed individuals. Both have unshakable loyalty to Equestria, but they would be too easy to discredit, should this come out. And that is the last thing we need."

"Your Highnesses, I'm not even part of the movement, but you seem to be implying I can simply step in and take over."

Luna laughed at that. "Sorry, we are not suggesting you as super-eme commander. Brown Chief and Moon City will retain control of their factions, and thus the bulk of the movement. Your only function will be to appear with us on the steering committee. The only group we are an active participant of. You will have a friendly word with each of them, and let them leave the 'top job' open to interpretation."

"You will continue to be a sounding board and baffle, they don't much like each other, and will cooperate with someone who keeps the other out of the top spot," Bell said, "Both desperately want the movement to succeed. Both equally desperately want a great deal of credit, and know the other absolutely will not share. Therefore, both want the other not to be seen as the supreme leader. If it works, there will be credit and vindication enough for both. As long as that central job remains merely a warm spot on the throne, as it were, neither will campaign too aggressively."

"There is also the unfortunate tendency to equate proximity to real power. If you have access to Luna, and to me," Celestia explained, "You are perceived as having much greater power and influence that you possess."

Barnum nodded numbly. "I think I understand. I think I do."

"Excellent," Bell said, "You'll do splendidly, as long as you remember one thing."

Barnum looked at him with hope, after a bewildering few minutes.

"At the moment, all we are trying to get them to force us to do is, give the power of law, to customs which have had the force of law for several hundred years. Remain on that path, and all things will go smoothly. The civil service will hardly notice the change and neither will the populace. That should, as it were, open a few gates."

"As long as they aren't the floodgates. Customs to law," Barnum mumbled, "Got it."

"Good, lad," Bell said cheerfully.

"Your Highnesses, Sir Bell," he said and bowed slightly to each, "I beg your leave to retire."

"You have it," Celestia said, "And thank you."

The colt backed towards the doors, until he bumped into them. The guard opened one and the colt slipped through, his guard commander practically trampled him to get out the door. The clattering of hooves at a full gallop sounded, before the door closed again.

"A good lad. Didn't succumb to panic until the job was done," Bell said, "If I may say your Highness, an inspired choice. Truly inspired."

"Thank you," Celestia said, "What part most impressed you?"

"Well," Bell considered, "He seems an earnest compromiser, and so much less a threat to either candidate. So when Chief and City are at loggerheads, he will sit them down and hammer out a compromise that they can at least tolerate."

"Yes," Celestia agreed and nodded.

"And if he can't. He reaches into that bag of tricks of his, and pulls a counterproposal so horrifyingly bizarre, that Chief and City will have to combine forces to argue him out of it. Or, set them both off in another direction."

"Yes," Celestia said and smiled. While she wondered why she hadn't thought of that possibility months earlier.


"Oh! Hi, Doc!" he said, with a forced cheerfulness you normally associated with ponies who are too close to great heights or deep bodies of water.

Considering my patient is sitting in the middle of the rooms ceded to him, Hardwood thought, It is a bad, though not life-threatening sign.

"When you left your purchases outside the conference room, and your new guard commander locked herself in her quarters and drank herself insensate, I thought you might want to talk about something."

"Me?" he said.

The wide-eyed, rictus-grin expression gave the doctor chills despite years of training and practice. I've seen it often enough in rescue workers. Some would continue, and slowly be affected. Others would keep going like clockwork, seemingly immune, then suddenly go off. Then there were others who'd somehow betrayed their cutie-marks, this room was a place they were kept when they descended into a similar insanity.

"Not sure if I'm even allowed," he said happily, "You know, Doc. I think I figured it out. I'm as nuts as you all think I am. There's a set of rules for this world that I thought I had a pretty good lock on. Then I find out I've been lying to myself all this time. There are rules, but I never really learned them. The rules are more like the rules I learned at home, but more polite and less predicable."

Culture shock, Doctor Hardwood thought as he sat down opposite the distraught colt, This I've got some experience in.

"All cultures have rules," he said, "Sometimes they're confusing, but they do make sense in context."

The colt stared at him. "So, if her Majesty Princesses Celestia, the Sun Goddess, the most powerful force on the planet, was doing something abysmally stupid, what are the correct rules for telling her? Or would you just automatically assume that you must not completely understand the situation, and keep silent?"

Hardwood considered the question. I would consider that she was either teasing to provoke a reaction/learning experience, or that I didn't understand the situation fully.

"So are the differences between herd creatures such as ponies, and social animals such as humans, so fundamental that a true understanding of the other's psychology is nearly impossible? Or is emulation achievable, even if understanding cannot be? Can I find ways to put myself in the mind of a pony, while not understanding the true thought processes, long enough and well enough to correctly estimate their feelings and thoughts, or am I eternally outside the 'herd' since I think independently, without the automatics which are part of your life. And if I do decide to assimilate, however well, will my progeny be fully ponies, fully and eternally outsiders, or partial outsiders, with successive generations being more pony than human in outlook?" He smiled again, but the despair was equally visible. "You've seen the mare, Glory Bell, who I've been working with. She's very clever, and I'm told quite lovely. And several of the mares in the Wonderbolts. They have guards to chase away stallions getting too close, but they don't chase me away. I may not be able to understand attractiveness standards, but I know what being interested looks like. But is there any point? Do you throw kids into a mess you've been stuck in, or just go through life like a clockwork and get close to not seem strange, but not intimate?"

There's a reason I hate crazy people who read too much philosophy, Hardwood thought, Is this culture shock or existential dread?

Barnum let out a breath and shook himself. "Well, enough woolgathering," he said, seemingly back to normal, "I have work to do, and people depending on me. I would appreciate you looking in on Peaceful Solitude. I think she's a new officer, a new city dweller, and has had a lot of rather bad shocks in quick succession." He headed into the bathroom with a toiletries kit. Hardwood followed. In the bathroom he combed out his hair and got ready to brush his teeth. "Doctor, I just let myself get caught up in my worries. It'll all work out, that's one of the fundamental rules here. Your friends get you out of anything," he said as he began brushing his teeth.

Okay, I don't believe in sudden epiphanies bringing healing. A sudden shock might snap a pony out of it, but the problem is still there. But is he more pony than human, and am I superimposing my own 'automatics' on him? Great, now he's got me doing it, Hardwood thought, and left the colt to his ablutions. There was a guard inside, keeping a close eye on the colt. Outside, Captain Hansom and Sergeant Mile Stone waited.

"Doctor?" the sergeant asked.

"Do they teach you some special trick to put all those questions into one word? If so, I have to go to sergeant school," Hardwood answered, "He can go back to work. Outwardly, he seems normal, but I just watched him go from near-catatonia possibly suicidal, to 'normal' in the blink of an eye. That usually means they've made a decision, and the decision is usually to end their life."

"He's going to be working around some rather powerful tools, doctor," Mile Stone pointed out.

"Like I said, keep an eye on him. I'll come back for the usual after-lunch session, and I should be able to pry into what that decision actually is then."

"What about the lieutenant?" the captain asked.

"She's a good deal more religious. I had a different kind of counselor helping her deal with whatever happened yesterday," Hardwood said, "I have an inquiry into Sir Eagle Bell, who was present when the two started their reaction. His initial response was he rather expected they've have to have a good lie down and a few drinks before they went on. He recommended a three-day bender for both of them, medically supervised of course."

"What in Celestia's name did they talk about in there?" Hansom asked worriedly.

"I doubt either will talk about it," Hardwood lamented.

"What about Miss Pie?" Mile Stone suggested, "That might provide the change both need."

"I've heard about the party master of Ponyville. I think that might be something for later."


The office was pretty much as Hardwood remembered it. Dark wood paneling, a few paintings of colored clouds, the couch and the flowers, in window boxes, in vases and on the ceiling. Like random jewels in a dark, precisely orchestrated forest, Hardwood thought, Anyone who laughs at her name has never been in here. The gray-haired mare behind the desk was as much a fixture of the office as the furnishings.

"Hardwood, I had been expecting you much earlier," Dr. Mud Treasure greeted him.

"Earlier?" Hardwood asked his old mentor, "I just came from one of my patients. How did you know -?" He spotted the files on the desk. Both Lieutenant Solitude's and McHorsefly's, from the intelligence branch.

"Her Highness's personal guard dropped these off. I knew you wouldn't be far behind. And I'm rather hurt you hadn't come to see me about these two before."

"I hadn't realized the extent that they would need help, or I would have," he admitted as he pulled a chair over to sit in front of the desk. There were the little, hand draw/painted pictures adorning the wall behind her, like somepony might put on a cabinet. Many were of flowers, donated by younger patients.

She smiled indulgently. "I was actually expecting someone under this kind of stress to have already had a full psychotic breakdown. Maybe intelligence is right, and he is an alien, rather than just believing he is one."

"You don't think he's crazy for believing he is one?"

"Or certifiable, but he doesn't make a point of insisting on it, and he recognizes it is impossible, so even he treats it as unlikely. It's insane to have those kinds of 'memories' but he'd only be a threat to himself and others if he insisted others acknowledge it." She looked over the desk at him. "You're worried that it might be healthier for him if he would do a little insisting, instead of simply acquiescing."

"Until this morning I did," he said, and looked around the room, at some of the many things he tried to emulate, and so many things he'd rebelled against. "I think he was playacting, and the act suddenly wore thin. Not 'who am I', he seems to have that well in hand. More of 'what will happen to my kids, should I even have kids?' I have to keep reminding myself he's a full-grown stallion inside the colt's body."

"It isn't easy, and there are other things operating against you. But lets start on the filly, since she doesn't have the complications."

"She and Barnum evidently had a meeting with Princesses Celestia and Luna, and the head of the civil service, and that was the source of her break. Somepony there said that ponies couldn't think of Celestia as bad, or speak out against her when they were in her presence, but she kept thinking Celestia was awful pushing a colt as hard as she was pushing Barnum," Hardwood said.

"Ah, CIPD Syndrome, except she was transferring her own symptoms to Barnum," Mud Treasure said, "Celestia Interaction Perfection Dissociative Syndrome. The tendency of anyone in her presence to work harder than they ever thought possible, in order to either gain her favor, or to ease her burden. It also is the tendency to put her instantly on a pedestal, marked either villain or goddess. Cynical, old glueballs like me, and Sir Eagle Bell, have a clearer view of what a pony can and cannot do, so we are only really affected when she specifically asks us to do something."

"Is that why she sent Miss Sparkle away?" Hardwood asked.

"Of course, the poor dear was burning both ends of the candle, and the middle, studying to please her wonderful, deserving of all and everything mentor, Princess Celestia." She sighed. "Ponies who fixate on the Princess tend to become rather, warped."

"Like 'Sunny Days', I don't know what that - pony, has against the Princess."

"Well obviously since no one could be as beautiful, as wonderful, as caring, and the list goes on endlessly, as Princess Celestia, she must have a huge, deep, dark side, and equally huge, deep, dark secrets."

"You means besides the impish sense of humor, a desperate yearning to be 'just like other ponies', an absolutely crushing sense of responsibility for the success and happiness of everypony, and the terrible case of survivors' guilt over banishing her own sister?" Hardwood asked, "So even those who hate her are affected."

"Yes. Your young lieutenant is a more typical case, young filly straight off the farm and into training. And because she is clever and level-headed, she gets Canterlot."

"And straight into what should be a simple position 'guarding' a basically harmless looney, with five senior sergeants to assist. It was more training for her, than a real position of authority," Hardwood added, "And then something that neither of them will talk about, but clearly related to their Highnesses."

"Enough to make you scream yet?" Mud Treasure asked, she smiled. "It's sad, really, her Highness is as vivacious and playful as a mare half your age, but so much responsibility and formality surround her at every step. She collects interesting youngsters, but they burn themselves out so quickly. They get here all full of playful, childlike behaviors and enthusiasm, but before you know it, it's all 'work, work, work, Celestia might see we're slacking off.' No one around her wants to just play. It's no wonder she's happy Luna is back. That pie fight between the two of them the other night was a gift beyond measure."

"I thought they caught Sunny Days in her private apartments?" Hardwood said.

"Have you forgotten about Celestia's impish sense of humor?" Mud Treasure asked and smiled.

Hardwood nearly fell out of his chair. "Her Highness is Sunny Days!" he hissed as if the very thought were treasonous.

"Of course. What better way to show she's not some plaster perfection atop a wedding cake, and it also lets her deal with rumor-mongering to an extent, by blowing those rumors so out of proportion, that no one can take them seriously, except those who wouldn't believe she's good, if she personally saved their life."

"I think I'm coming down with a touch of it now," Hardwood commented, "But shouldn't Barnum be immune, if what's in his files is accurate?"

"A human suffering survivor's guilt of his own, in an alien land, in an alien body, completely dependant on the goodwill of Celestia for the roof over his head, the food on his table and the clothes on his back? Add that she is an overwhelmingly warm, kind and understanding female, who desires his happiness as well. Why would he feel dependance on her? And why would he feel the need to keep her pleased with his actions and performance?"

"Hearing it put that way, it does explain his near obsession with that flying machine. Now, I can only guess he's got a mission, directly from their Highnesses, and he's just going to soldier on. But the cracks have appeared."

"Celestia understands that the wounds that have scarred over need to be broken open and exposed to the light. She also knows a good deal more than she's letting on about Barnum the man," Mud Treasure said.

"I sometimes wish he'd let me in," Hardwood admitted, "There are pieces of his psychology that are textbook. Others are so alien, I don't think I could understand them after years of study."

"Hence the culture shock. There's also the deep secret he and Celestia share, the files hint that it exists, but not what it is."

"He mentioned something, but I would think that would have affected him before now. But it might be adding to his troubles. Another thing I wish he would, could, talk about."

"Security, you've worked with the guard long enough to know that," she said.

"Yes, but I could usually be cleared for whatever was going on," he said, "There seems to be only two people who know, and they aren't talking."

"What about you?" Dr. Treasure asked, "Aren't you trying to solve this so hard because of Celestia. You might want to take a step back and let things play out, rather than try to 'fix' them. What you categorize as a psychotic break might just be a momentary loss of composure. The filly just needs to go home, or be with her own kind for a bit: youngsters, or people from her hometown, or better yet, both. Barnum might need a mechanic, or another engineer, more than a psychiatrist. You do all those remodeling jobs at your own house, why not talk to him as a carpenter, rather than a therapist."

"I haven't done one of those in months," he admitted.

"Because Celestia, or one of her valuable servants might need you?" Mud Treasure accused, "She wants fully realized ponies, not automatons who only do what she wants. I think half the challenges she puts up are so somepony will actually defy her, without hating her." She sighed. "Let's go talk with the guards about the filly, and any 'colonies' of people from her hometown. Then let's see about what Barnum is doing, and I prescribe a weekend of remodeling or furniture building for you."

"I hear he's got a lathe, I always wanted to try one of those," Hardwood sheepishly admitted.

"There you go."


"I told you it would be easy," the mare told her once-protege.

"Always listen to your doctor," Hardwood said happily, as the guard opened the door, "Even a 'colt like me' - Celestia's eternal mercy," he gasped in dread.

"What is - oh," Mud Treasure asked and looked around at every flat surface, except the window panes and floor, was covered with drawings. The fact they were on paper, instead of the walls and ceiling themselves lessened the impact, but all of the bedframes had been stood up to provide additional gallery space. Sitting in the middle of the room, like the holy of holies in a shrine, untouched by paper, were two Dianes. One a single-seater, the other a familiar two-seat model. A quick look verified that the papers all had some drawing of a Diane, or part of it. Most had intricate calculations or notes on them.

Hardwood turned to his mentor. "It didn't look like this a few hours ago."

"It's better he did this in a few minutes?" Mud Treasure replied.

"SURPRISE!" a very pink pony leapt out from behind one of the bedframes and sang, "We know you're nose to grindstone, but your plans have fallen down!"

"Pinkie," a purple unicorn said to the singing earth pony.

"So the princess called upon us and we had to come to town!"

"Pinkie!"

"For Diane help we bring you, to chase those blues away!"

"PINKAMENA DIANE PIE!" the unicorn thundered.

"Were we supposed to do a chorus? Let's start again, and you come in a half-measure after me," the earth pony proclaimed, "On three, one!"

"Pinkie, that's not Barnum, or Mile Stone," the unicorn told her.

The earth pony looked at the unicorn. "How can you tell? He was always playing tricks on us in Ponyville. He might be in disguise," the pink one proclaimed.

"Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle, I presume," Mud Treasure said, and backed up as Pinkie Pie examined her closely.

"Presume makes a per out of you and me. Hey! That rhymes better than the original," Pinkie said as she bounced away.

Twilight facehooved and then smiled at the pair. "You wouldn't happen to know where Barnum is, do you?" she asked.

"He's coming down the hall," the guard reported.

"Ooo! Quick hide!" Pinkie said, and began shoving Hardwood and Mud Treasure behind the upturned bedframes. Then she dashed behind one herself. "Don't bother hiding, Twilight, he won't see you anyway."

She scrambled behind a frame.

"So the problem of lightening and stiffening the trusses," came Barnum's voice, then the door opened and silence.

"It didn't look like this a few hours ago," Barnum said as he looked around.

"How did two Dianes get in here?" Glory Bell asked as she and Claire approached them. The guard tried to look everywhere at once in the odd room.

"Are these all diagrams of the machine?" Spitfire asked nervously as she peered at the paper that adored the walls. The group moved through the maze of upturned bedframes. Claire suddenly darted forward and dragged Twilight out from behind one of the frames.

"Uh, surprise?" Twilight offered lamely as Hardwood and Mud Treasure stepped out of their hiding places.

"Doctor, Twilight, you can let her go Claire," Barnum said, "I know her. As long as you aren't Nightmare Moon or a dragon, you're safe." That got him stared at by Claire.

There was the sound of running water and Pinkie exited the bathroom. "Ooo! Barnum, were you surprised, were you surprised?"

"Very," he admitted.

"Twilight didn't yell 'surprise' did she?" Pinkie glared at the unicorn.

"Where were you?" Twilight complained.

Pinkie looked back at the door she'd just exited. "Are you feeling all right, Twilight?" Pinkie looked around. "Is there a doctor in the house?"

"She's a doctor," Hardwood said of Mud Treasure.

"What's up, doc?" Pinkie asked.

"Diane plans, apparently," Mud Treasure said and smiled.

"She's quicker than you, doc." Barnum took down one of the plans, and carefully stuck it back to the wall. "Used the sticky note glue I see."

"So you could rearrange them," Pinkie said happily, as she bounced over to Barnum. On the last bounce, her hair flattened out as she landed. "The princess was very concerned about your recent shocks, and thought a discussion among inventors would lighten your spirits," she said in a dull monotone, "As the inventor of the original design, I was the logical one to provide insights into the improved version. Have you considered using a dynamo and electric motors to power the machine? I know the weight, especially with batteries, would be higher, but it would eliminate the transmission and linkage problems. A simple rheostat would provide -"

"Pinkie?" Twilight asked in stunned amazement.

Pinkie's hair poofed out as she looked at Twilight and the others. "I want my friends to smile, and if that's the way," she said, and her hair flattened out, "That's the way. Now, I understand you've got some additional help."

"Yes, Princess Glory Bell, inventor of the flying truss," Barnum said as he led Pinkie over to the mare and her nervous guard.

Twilight stared at the group. Pinkie's hair poofed as she talked to Glory Bell, and went flat when addressing Barnum or Claire.

"I first thought the flying truss was for stallions with medical problems," Pinkie said to Glory, getting a faint grin from Claire.

"Uh, hi," Twilight said to the rest of the group. As the doctors, Spitfire and Soarin' approached her, forming a defensive huddle against the drawings everywhere.

"Doctor Hardwood," Hardwood introduced himself and his mentor, "Doctor Mud Treasure."

"Hello, I'm Twilight Sparkle, Celestia's student," she said, and kept glancing nervously at Pinkie Pie.

Unaffected, Soarin' asked, "If there's a party, is there cake?"

Pinkie was in front of him instantly. "Of course there's cake! What kind of party would there be without cake? What kind of party is this anyway?" Pinkie asked, then dashed over to a bedframe and pulled a cake on a wheeled table out from behind it. There were seven layers, each layer frosted in a different color, each layer of icing a mix of the colors above and below, and white icing in lines running vertically.

"I know." Pinkie's hair flattened. "We can't have frosting all over these drawing." Her hair poofed out. "So I made the icing out of . . . wood!" she announced happily.

"Wood?" Soarin' asked, as he stopped drooling at the sight of the cake, and became forlorn.

"Yep!" Pinkie said proudly, and tapped it with a hoof, "Solid wood." Then she began opening the compartments in the 'cake', the joints concealed behind the frosting lines. Opening in different directions, like interlaced fingers, revealing the six unfrosted cake layers on plates inside, and the plates for the partygoers. "Tadda!" she announced. Twilight and Spitfire helped pull the cake layers out of the cake-looking box and began putting slices on the plates.

"This is good," Soarin' said.

"The Cakes make the best cakes in Ponyville," Pinkie said proudly, "Ooo! I forgot about the gizmo!" She dashed over to Barnum and Glory, who were staring at a set of drawings.

Pinkie dashed back. "What does it mean you're all in the Twilight Zone?" Pinkie asked, "Just me and you being around Twilight?" Pinkie hugged the unicorn, then dashed away.

"Don't look at me," Twilight said a bit defensively, "I don't understand her half the time anyway."

"Good cakes," Soarin said.

"What has she got in her mouth?" Mud Treasure exclaimed and walked over to the group clustered around Pinkie Pie.

Glory Bell was holding a pencil with her magic, while two small grabbers that seem to have sprouted from the earth pony's mouth closed in on it. As she watched, one small gripper closed on the pencil, the other moved from the front to the side and grasped the pencil. Pinkie walked over to a sheet of paper struck to the wall and drew a smooth curve with the pencil.

"What is that?" Mud Treasure asked.

The happy gibberish from the pink earth pony didn't help clarify things too much.

"It was something I asked her to work on." Barnum supplied, "She had sketches, but she couldn't overcome the problem of one gripper/tool in the frame. I worked out the improved interface and the locking system for the various tools."

Pinkie demonstrated by walking over to a rack of small tools. She moved one gripper holding the pencil, and somehow unlatched the other, small gripper and attached a powerful pliers. She moved the pencil back in place, and the pliers easily bit right through the pencil. Pinkie giggled and cut the remains of the pencil into small slices with the pliers that seemed to have sprouted from her mouth.

"The control is precise," Glory said as she watched, "And the two grippers operate separately. But, why?"

"Extra hands," Barnum said, "Unicorn magic is fine for some things, but I can't pick up a piece of paper without shredding it, or setting it on fire. Pegasi and earth ponies might appreciate being able to pick something up without directly using their mouth. Like taking a hot pan out of the oven. With a little adaptation, you could do all your work a foreleg away from the actual material you were manipulating. It also lets you tailor the gripper to the job. A metal snip to a tweezers."

Pinkie demonstrated by changing out both tools by putting her head down over the rack, and seeming the take the tools on and off with no unicorn magic. As she held them up, one tool moved then the other, they opened and closed synchronized and separately. Glory and Mud Treasure stared at the sight. Pinkie giggled, but her explanation was garbled.

"The units are set up so each side of the mouth controls one. And they can be moved, or locked down with the tongue. The tongue control also locks the tool in place, or releases it. It also leaves the lips and front teeth free for other work, if you need them."

Pinkie unlocked the tools, and put them back in the holding cradle, then set the device in its place. It looked like a split mouth guard, with a pair of boxes mounted on the outside and inside.

"It's that simple?" Dr. Mud Treasure asked.

"Yep!" Pinkie said proudly, "Imagine changing a diaper, without having to touch it!"

Nearly everyone cringed at that thought.

"Or get a pie out of the oven," Barnum added, "Or handle a bottle of corrosive or poisonous material. Not quite as good as hands with opposing digits, but serviceable."

"YAY!" Pinkie proclaimed, "I got all of them to smile! Even if it is a boring party!"

"The joy of discovery -"

Pinkie put her hoof over Barnum's mouth. "Don't need to hear it."

"This is incredible," Twilight commented on the device, "You built it?"

"Duh!" Pinkie and Barnum said in unison, then laughed.

Twilight took the hint.

"How's the party cannon working?" Barnum asked.

"How do you think I got all these blueprints up so quickly, silly?" Pinkie replied.

"Remind me never to talk about cluster munitions around you," Barnum said.


The flight back to Ponyville was a trifle melancholy for Pinkie. She looked over the side of the air chariot, at the forests and rivers and plains below. She thought about the afternoon, and evening, and what had happened I showed people I'm not just a party-pony, she thought, And getting my friends to smile is more important than how I get them to smile. I just wish I could have it all. Parties, and people who like my toys. She glanced over at Twilight, who was studying, by the faint glow of her horn, some of the plans for the grabber that Barnum had drawn up when he was in Ponyville. My Pinkie sense, all over again, Pinkie thought, If she can't get it out of a book, she can't grasp it. She giggled at that, then looked at the two 'Dianes' flying in formation. Being flown by the Wonderbolts themselves.

Too bad Dashie was busy, or she could have come with, Pinkie thought, then grinned at the great practical joke she'd play on Dashie, 'Where'd you get a limited edition poster, signed by all the Wonderbolts!' 'When I went up to Canterlot with Twilight and showed off my flying machines, and gave them some lessons on flying them.' Flying them safely. I can't believe they crashed poor Barnum's. She chuckled at the reaction she'd get from Dashie, on learning she'd been 'too busy' to hang out with the Wonderbolts.

That still doesn't come close to the joke Princess Celestia and Princess Luna playing on all those ponies who don't like her. Get all of them organized, and demanding the things Celestia hasn't had 'permission' to give them, Pinkie thought and glanced over at Twilight, Yeah, I can see how people can't simply accept, and have to get things the way they're used to getting them.

"I think you're sweet on Barnum," Pinkie told Twilight. And waited as the thought penetrated the mare's study-obsessed mind.

Twilight actually shuddered as the thought made it past the barriers, and struck home. "What?"

"Sure, he's the first stallion to give you a present you can't understand," Pinkie said happily, "I can see you deciding to study him, and then there's the wedding, and children, and after 20 or 30 years of married life, you'll finally get it. Twilight, you do plan ahead. I like that about you."

It was all Pinkie could do to keep from rolling around on the floor of the air chariot at Twilight's expression changing from confused to horrified and back. Never lingering with one emotion too long.

"You're crazy!" Twilight finally exclaimed.

Pinkie gave her best confused look. "You think it will take longer? Naw, I have faith in you Twilight. Thirty years, tops."

The mare stared at her open-mouthed.

Pinkie giggled and enjoyed watching Twilight try to work it out.


Brushcut, Neanderpony, Claire and a pegasus of Luna's Night Guard stood together, then sang as Octavia began her accompaniment on the cello.

"How can I just let you walk away - just let you leave without a trace?
When I stand here taking every breath with you, oooo
You're the only one who really knew me at all."

Celestia let out a slight sniffle as Luna nuzzled her older sister.

"How can you just walk away from me, when all I can do is watch you leave?
'cause we've shared the laughter and the pain, and even shared the tears
You're the only one who really knew me at all
So, take a look at me now - well, there's just an empty space
And there's nothing left here to remind me - just the memory of your face
Take a look at me now, well, there's just an empty space
And you coming back to me is against the odds, and that's what I've got to face."

Celestia was openly nuzzling her sister, and both sisters were weeping.

"I wish I could just make you turn around - turn around and see me cry
There's so much I need to say to you - so many reasons why
You're the only one who really knew me at all."

The musicians glanced over at Barnum, who nodded for them to continue. Celestia smiled inwardly as the musicians continued, even as her tears flowed freely.

"So take a look at me now, well, there's just an empty space
And there's nothing left here to remind me - just the memory of your face
Now, take a look at me now 'cause there's just an empty space
But to wait for you is all I can do, and that's what I've got to face
Take a good look at me now 'cause I'll still be standing here
And you coming back to me is against all odds - it's the chance I've got to take
Take a look at me, now." They held the note, and let it fade off slowly.

The two sisters were hugging each other and weeping. The musicians stood stock still, but their eyes darted around, seeking Barnum's who smiled and nodded.

"Thank you," Celestia said, "It was very beautiful."

All right, point to you Mr. Clever, Celestia thought, But I think my reply will be more cunning, and more obvious. But thank you, none-the-less.

Barnum and the musicians bowed as they left the two sisters alone.


Outside, Octavia spoke up, "I'm not comfortable, making their Highnesses cry like that."

"Music touches a chord in the soul. And even the godlike rulers of Equestria need a good cry now and again," Barnum soothed, "Your performance just provided them the excuse to. Excellent job all of you, by the way. Besides, all you have to do is tell them it was my idea and you were simply eager to perform."

"Was that song really about their Highnesses, as, as Nightmare Moon manifested?" Neanderpony asked nervously.

"No, just a song about loss and hope," Barnum replied, "A song smith from my home, Phil Collins wrote and performed it. I always preferred his version which was more a 'I'm terribly hurt but I must go on', to most of the covers which sounded like a wounded animal mewling to be put down."

"Why do I think you just used us to prank their Highnesses?" Octavia accused.

Barnum looked around. "Weird, the moon looks just like Canterlot castle. I guess Luna was busy and homesick all those years."