I. The Cuts Marked in the March of Mares
Absolution
I.
“Scoots?”
Her voice bounces around the lonely metal corridors. They are like caves where every noise echoes; her voice is the cold winter breeze making them howl. It raises goosebumps on my hooves, under my coat as I hide in the vents and pray for the danger to pass. I am thankful for the scant emergency lighting, because it hides me, but at the same time it makes the Ghost that much harder to see. There are too many shadows for her to hide in.
I won’t let her find me again. I can’t let her find me again. It’s happened far too many times—aw hell, what am I saying? Once was too many. Point is, I’m not gonna let it happen again. Never, ever again. I’ll die first. I’ll sit up here until the ship runs out of oxygen and I just slip away into dreams and die.
“Scoots? Where are ya, filly?” Her voice is rough as it has always been, cracking a bit around the edges.
Breathe, Scootaloo. Breathe. If I don’t move, she won’t find me. It’s that simple. I won’t have to see her. Keep calm.
“Scoots? Where are you? We’re all worried about ya! Come on out!”
Judging by the sound, I’d guess she’s coming in from the Habitation Ring. My Ghosts have had an uncanny talent for always being nearby. It’s maddening, how no matter where I run, they’re always nearby. No vent is ever truly safe, no crate secure. No room is so secure that the Ghosts cannot open a door and be on me in a heartbeat, calling out their messages.
I’m glad for these vents and service tunnels, but they have their limits. My ship’s designed to maintain atmosphere in the event of a major hull breach, and each section has its own separate system of tubes. The blast doors between each section are closed, and I haven’t had the chance to open them yet. To cross over to another section, I have to float down into the hall below and go through the door itself.
And then there’re the doors themselves, never quite as dependable as they should be. It's never enough to be too bad, but... I’m beginning to wonder about them.
Her voice is getting louder; I can hear it drawing nearer with every hushed breath I take. I wish I could hear her walking. Damn the zero-g. It’s an environment that favors the hunter. Any moment, she’ll float by with her wings half stretched like a complete newbie.
And that’s another thing that bothers me, and helps remind me that they were, indeed, Ghosts. Back home, she took to zero-g like a bird took to the air: flawlessly. She was more comfortable in this kind of environment than any of the trainees or instructors at Luna’s Academy. When she attempts to fly in the thinner air, the Ghost looks like some sort of awkward overgrown filly. It’s not her. Back home, the real her figured out rather quickly how to manage wings in zero-g.
The air is mostly still. There’s a light breeze here in the vent, but it’s not unpleasant. I just wish it were a little louder, a little more forceful, like it is in the Habitation Ring. I know my breathing is quiet, but it sounds as loud as cannonfire in the silence.
Somehow, I can almost feel her coming before I see her. My heart leaps and beats with wild abandon, my legs and wings tense. Below me, “Rainbow” blunders by.
Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please, for once, I don’t want you to look at me. Keep going, please keep...
And there she is, without a space suit, staring up at me like the mare I remember. I realize that my breathing has gotten louder and I resist the urge to curse aloud. I can’t look at her. I just can’t. If I do, I’ll forget. She’s going to say something; I need to get away.
Rainbow speaks.
“Scootaloo? Your friends... Apple Bloom is really worried about you, and she’s sorry. Sweetie’s been crying. It’s not cool to make your friends worry, squirt. Come on down and let’s go fix it.”
Oh, Celestia. I can’t do this.
In that moment, I am back in Ponyville. I’m twelve again, and my mother is terribly sick. Dad’s already talked to me about it, and the doctors look at me with pity when I go see her. She’ll recover, but I don’t know that yet; I’m a filly who just got her cutie mark, and I’m a big-winged ball of hormones and frustration, and Apple Bloom scolds me for being moody. I can’t believe she’d say that! So I sock her, and after she gapes at me for a second with tears dancing in the corners of her eyes, she races out before I can say a word. Not that I’d mean it, really. It’s just what you do, when you're friends.
It’s stupid, but I’m angry, and I don’t really care. I leave Sweetie Belle behind in the treehouse and I just wander off. She’s crying, but I’m not sure I care much. I just want them to leave me alone, and the woods are right there in front of me. So I go find myself a sunny spot in the Everfree and pout. It’s not my fault. Apple Bloom and her stupid... whatever it is. You can’t just tell people to cheer up or be happy. It’s not like she can just make me be happy by telling me to be. When Applejack and Rainbow come looking for me, I climb up into a tree and sulk in private. I guess things haven’t changed much.
And she looks up at me and she says exactly that.
She’s Rainbow Dash! It’s the voice, the mane, the... the...
“I’m glad I found ya. Come home. You need help?”
“You aren’t Rainbow!” I yell down at her and close my eyes to block her out.
It’s all I can do. It’s hopeless to try and ignore her; I just can’t do it. She’s the mare I admire most outside of my mother, and there’s no way I can just... ignore even her shade. Even if it’s a poor imitation of the real Rainbow. Of my Dash.
I open my eyes again and recoil at her stare. Now that our eyes meet, the spell begins to fade. Her eyes give her away every time; they give me the strength to ignore or deny the lie. Those rose eyes are just wrong. I know Rainbow Dash, and I know her expressions better than I know my own mother’s. The spark simply isn’t there.
“Hey, now, whatcha talkin’ about? It’s me. Just get down here. I hate this place. I know you’re scared, but...”
“N-no,” I manage. She’s only a phantom. She’s a Ghost. But it’s one thing to think that and know that, and another entirely to look at Rainbow and hear her voice talking to me.
“You can’t stay up there. The Everfree’s dangerous, and you’re just a kid.”
“I’m twenty-five, Rainbow,” I say, and I wish I could fly down there and just... I don’t even know. She’s stuck on that day when she found me in the woods and walked me home. That day is special to me. I remember our long talk on the way back, and this stupid nothing is stealing it from me.
“Not yet, you aren’t! Don’t be crazy. Look, just get down here. You can tell me about what happened.” She stomps her hoof against the metal floors and the force of it pushes her up a bit towards me. I shrink back in response, my mane standing on end. The thought of her touching me again has me feeling cold and awful. It's for her own good.
Her ears flatten against her skull and she scowls up at me. Of course she’s mad; Scootaloo is stuck up in the tree and won’t come home. Her number one fan’s talking back!
I’m gonna be a crying wreck if I stay here, I know it. Just like some stupid filly. I start moving on, crawling awkwardly in the small vent. My voice cracks like it hasn’t since I was young. “Fine, whatever. Just leave me alone, not-Rainbow. G-get off my ship.”
It’s futile. They never listen to me, of course, not really. They just stay in their little Ghost fantasy lands and—
There’s a sound as the grate is removed from the vent. I feel something around my hind leg, impossibly cold. I scream, flailing my forelegs like a frightened child . I know it’s her, I know what’s about to happen, but I’m powerless to stop it. She’s bigger than me, even now.
She yanks hard, and I’m through the hole. I feel the sharp metal edges scraping me and cry out, but the impact with the icy floor knocks the wind out of me, and it is eerily silent. I rebound, too shocked to take advantage of the moment of freedom from Rainbow’s icy iron grip.
And then she grabs me.
“No! No, please! Rainbow, listen to me! Put me down! Don’t!” I try to pull myself further into the vent, but it’s no use.
She wraps me up in a freezing bear hug and starts speaking her part like nothing’s wrong.
“Gotcha! See? No big deal. Pretty brave, there, letting me catch you. We can go home now.”
Oh goddesses, it’s happening around me. I can feel it, how freezing her forelegs are, how they seem to give way. She’s dissolving around me, turning to purple smoke like all the others. She keeps talking and talking as if nothing is happening, but her voice is fading away too, like she’s backing away into the dark. Her hooves are gone. Her right eye and ear and half of her mane are all gone and are now purple cloud and it’s so cold and she’s falling apart and she’s calmly hugging me and then I—
_________________________________________________________________________________________
I don’t know how long I shiver on the frigid deck before I regain myself. I feel like somepony just reached in and scooped me all out. I failed. Rainbow Dash, once again, has died. It just gets worse—this is all my fault! She died trying to hug me. Every time, the same, over and over! She just... falls apart. She wraps me up, no matter how much I struggle and try to save her, and then she can’t take it, I guess? She’s like...
I don’t want to think about it anymore. I can’t.
Lazily, I float out of Section J, towards the fore. As I go, I pass by the doorway into the well-lit Spine. No matter what other doors are locked or jammed, those doors are always open. So are the ones into the Heart.
On a whim, I call out in the semi-dark. “Star Mother?”
The ship’s guiding intelligence answers in her strange, many-layered voice. “Yes, Scootaloo?”
“What time is it?”
I lose track. Well, I didn’t use to at all, but in the last... however long it’s been, I have. Don’t really got time to keep up with time when I’m on the run, y’know? Or something. Honestly, my real excuse is that the only ways I have of really keeping up with time are being in the Habitation Ring or asking Star Mother.
“3:49 AM in Ponyville, Scootaloo. Are you not tired? We suggest that you sleep. We note that—”
“Star Mother, please don’t give me the time that way. Just... say Central time. Anything but Ponyville. Is that alright?” I sigh and run a hoof over my face, feeling tired.
“Of course it is, Scootaloo. We only remembered you asked us two days ago what time it was in Ponyville. We apologize.”
I wince. Star Mother isn’t just a machine. She’s an imprint, as far as I know, of Princess Luna’s own mind. She has a lot of the alicorn’s mannerisms. Star Mother has always seemed a little more timid to me, but it’s hard to tell for sure. Regardless, there’s a kind of maternal warmth to her. I remember how early into the trip, she would remind me to go to bed if I seemed tired. She still does, though our conversations have been different since the first ghost. I shouldn’t cut her off.
“I’m sorry. I just... I don’t want to think about Ponyville. Can you still not see her?” I grimace.
“Unfortunately, no. We are sorry. I do not believe that you are mad, Scootaloo. But I sense no other moving heat signatures apart from you, and the anomaly has made monitoring the ship through visual means challenging.”
I nod. I catch myself staring at the wall and then shake my head. There are no tears for another Rainbow puppet. Fifteen of them, now. I don’t cry anymore afterwards. I just... walk. I walk a lot. Float. Whatever.
“You seem troubled. Is there anything we can do for you, Scootaloo? Perhaps if you were to return to our Heart...” She trails off, which surprises me a little. It’s a strangely pony behavior for what is, at close of day, a machine. But I’ve come to accept that Star Mother is hard to put into a box. She just breaks free eventually.
“I will. I just... need to think.”
She accepts this in silence, it seems, and she doesn’t answer immediately. It is strange, though I’ve not sent word about it back home yet. She’s become more and more like a real pony on our journey together among the stars. It’s not been a bad thing, really. She reminds me a little bit of Sweetie, with how shy she can be. I mean, if a computer can be shy. I'm sure I'm just transferring things on her because I'm missing my friends.
It helps with the loneliness. Sometimes when I picture Star Mother, I imagine Sweetie. It doesn't totally fit, of course. Her voice is way off. And even though she's quick to appease or calm me down like Sweetie is, she's just... different. So my imaginings always fall apart in the end.
I’ll be free of Rainbow Dash for a few more hours, probably long enough to sleep. If I’m lucky, maybe longer. The first few ghosts had days in between their hauntings, but lately they've started appearing closer and closer together. It’s a strange thought: I’m actually looking forward to being free of Rainbow Dash. How messed up is that? But that’s how things work. Or at least, that’s how I live now.
Going through halls to get where I’m going is tedious. There’s another solution, but... oh, why not? I can avoid the Heart. I don’t know why I want to, but I will. It’s irrational, but I’ve never lived my life paying that much attention to what’s “smart.” Sometimes I just know things.
Anyhow, I stop my progress with one hoof, clinging to a rail. They’re everywhere in the halls and such, for changing direction and standing around to look at stuff.
I launch off again, into the corridor to my left. The Spine's light shines under the door ahead, illuminating the otherwise dim hallways. The lights in the body are usually dim or off to save power. The ones in the Rings and what I affectionately call “the eyes” are always on or change with the night-day cycle.
I reach the door and find the keypad beside it. It opens as it senses my presence, and I jam my hoof onto the sensor it reveals. It accepts my authorization and opens.
The light almost blinds me. For a moment, covering my eyes with a foreleg and groaning softly, I can almost imagine that the light is why I’ve avoided the Spine and the Heart. It’s easier to be alone in the dark. Easier on the eyes, at least.
I step out into the glowing whiteness of the Spine, anchoring myself on the rail beside the opening.
Sweetie Belle told me, what seems like a lifetime ago, that my ship looks like a big cigar with smoke rings around it. It’s true, it does. To be honest, it’s not the prettiest design, and the other Crusaders had fun with it. I didn’t care. I just loved the idea of flying up in space. I still do, at least a little.
The Absolution’s main body has two major divisions: the “body proper” and the Spine. The outer layer of the body proper is a honeycomb of hallways and storage compartments that stays dark. The air there is thin, and if I spend too much time there, I’ll get headaches and feel dizzy. Star Mother always pumps me more air though. I worry her. I did so even before this whole... Ghost thing. It’s nice having someone mother you out here. I don’t mind.
The Spine itself is just a long shaft from Engineering to Navigation. It’s a straight shot for me to get places fast in situations where elevators won’t cut it or the power is out. I just push off hard on one end and fly to the other in about a minute and a half. About halfway, suspended in the zero-g by four titanium bars, is the Heart. It’s... strange. An experience. Anyhow, I intend to avoid it for now. I have things to do. If I can’t do anything else to evade my nightmares, I can at least not think about them. Besides, we're nearing the midway point.
The rings around the cylindrical hull are Research, Habitation, and Special Storage, respectively, from engines to cockpit. Honestly, the storage ring is almost entirely useless, apart from the samples of the nebula I took in. Habitation has a bed, a lounge, some of Apple Bloom’s art, and a little home theater Sweetie set up for me herself with the Princess’s permission, stocked full of music and movies. It’s surprising, how cozy it is up there. In better days, I worked out and listened to one of Sweetie’s records most every day before heading down to the Heart or Navigation to make calculations or record things. Star Mother helps with piloting. I can do it myself, no problem, but she’s like setting a watch for the night.It's a lot like being home, having somepony—or at least, something—to tell you to head on to bed. That they had it under control, and you should catch some shut eye. It also keeps me fresh for the whole year-long voyage.
A year. Goddess, but I don't want to think about that. A whole year, alone, with nopony to touch or talk to. Time to distract myself.
“Star Mother!”
“Yes, Scootaloo? You seem distressed once more. We would kindly offer you an alternative to the Heart. Would you like some soothing music, perhaps? We regret we cannot do more.”
“That would be wonderful, Mother.”
She chuckles. It’s a strange sound. She wasn’t capable of it when we left, but Luna did tell me she would change over time. Change for the better, I’d say.
She cues up some classical music. It has a nice rhythm to it, and it makes me feel like swaying. I almost do, for a moment. It’s strange how music works sometimes.
I push off, heading for Navigation as fast as I can.
“Mother, what is this?”
I love the Spine. I can almost forget heartache itself in this long void.
“Blue Danube. It is a waltz. We thought you might enjoy it. It is for dancing, but it is also the kind of music that makes mother happy.”
It seems odd that she would mention Princess Luna. She hasn't mentioned in her a month now, at least. Probably more. But I guess she's growing up, in her weird AI way.
“I like it. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Would you like it to continue?”
“Sure,” I say, feeling lighter in more ways than one. The trip to Navigation is short, and I’m at the wall. I stop my progress and sort of scamper up a few feet, catching onto the rail. That's the problem with zero-g: no mistakes, or you spin around like an idiot for awhile.
The door opens for me instantly—Star Mother looking out for me—and I float through the gap into Navigation.
Navigation should be breathtaking. At first, every time I entered this place, my mouth hung open. Nowadays, I just kind of grimace.
Outside the wide windows, the colors of the nebula swirl. It’s pretty, but it’s also unsettling. I am used to the dignity of open space, and even before then, I was used to the softer colors of Equestrian life. The nebula offers no dignity. It’s just... everywhere. Out there is all chaos and movement.
But it’s also one of my primary objectives. This is the turning point of the whole voyage. From here, the flight’s all homeward. Why not just turn back now? I look over at the main Navigation panel. I would, perhaps, if I could... but the controls are locked. I can unlock them for emergencies and to correct the course slightly, but it’s built with a kind of safeguard to keep me from chickening out. Staying the course is easier when temptation is removed.
“Star Mother, how far until we turn around?”
“Fifteen hours, Scootaloo.”
I nod, and continue in midair until I reach the control panel. I find the little clamps on the floor and shut myself in.
My eyes scan the instruments, looking for anything out of place. When Rainbow appeared this time, I was in the middle of performing my daily nighttime check. I like doing this. It’s mindless in all the right ways.
My gaze never leaves the panel as I ask suddenly, “Mother, do you think I’m crazy? That I’m just seeing things?”
There is a long pause. It’s too long, and I look up and around, wishing for perhaps the hundredth time that Star Mother had a face for me to read. Why isn’t she answering? What if she’s trying to break it to me?
“Star Mother? Ship?”
“We do not.”
I’m beginning to be a bit creeped out: this isn’t like her. Star Mother elaborates, sometimes far more than I need or want her to. Short, blunt answers are not her style at all.
“Star Mother? You’re scaring me a little. Do you really think so? I’m not crazy?”
“It does not appear so, no,” the answer comes quicker this time, and I breathe out a sigh. Just some growing weirdness. Star Mother learns by mimicking my speech, sometimes. Maybe I’ve been pausing? I dunno. It’s alright, anyhow.
Everything is in place, I’m sure of it. I have perhaps a few hours before the next Ghost comes. I’ll know when it does; the pod always wakes me up.
But for now, I need sleep.
I’m afraid to sleep in the Heart, but I think I might have to. I need deep sleep, and I need the nutrient feeds in the pod. With the two or three hours I have before I’m on the run again, the Heart is my only real option. And yet...
I think about it as I head out the opening door towards the large spherical structure.
I think perhaps some of it has to do with the uneasy sanctity of the Heart. Gosh, that sounds corny. I swear I don’t mean it like that. It’s just... the Heart is safe, and I don’t want her to corner me in there. I guess I can just manually lock all the doors, but then what? She’ll just jump me when I leave, and that’ll be sixteen dead Rainbow Dashes. What a fantastic milestone for a place that I sleep in, that's supposed to be protected.
Yet, the Heart has always been a strange place, for all its safety.
I land on it, finding one of the many hoofholds, and maneuver my way to a circular opening. It retracts for me, and I dive in.
Inside, the air is thick with a wispy mist that Twilight tried to explain to me a long time ago. At the time, I was a cadet, and the magic bits of it went right over my head.
Biting my lip, I search for Rainbow but see nothing. Of course I don’t, but I can’t help but look for her. Ever since this ordeal began, I’ve looked for her when entering here. She’s creepy, and this place is creepy, and I guess I equate the two.
The mist in the Heart is thicker than before, when I left dry dock. Six months ago, it only barely concealed the pods suspended within it. Now, it hides about half of them. I count briefly, looking for the lights. Pink, Yellow, Purple, Dark Blue... yes. I count 6 of them. Only Rainbow Dash’s and my own are unaccounted for. They’ll be further back, I know. Rainbow’s never seems to be in sight right away.
I sort of swim through the oxygen-rich mist, looking for my pod. The mist coats my face with warm wetness, and I squint my eyes to see through it. Thin wire passes me, and I’m again reminded of the mysteries of this place.
Princess Luna’s AfterPony project bewilders me. Star Mother’s part of it, I know, but not all of it. All of the Element Bearers had been included, a sort of snapshot taken of all their minds and then kept alive in these glowing pods. My own, I knew, recorded my memories and thoughts every day. I think part of my fear about coming here and using it is how it will be warped by my own fear and distress about Rainbow.
Will I be a kind of ship intelligence too, one day? Well, I mean, not me personally. But one based off of me. What will that be like? I’m not sure how I even feel about that. I mean... it’s not me. It’s not really even a copy of me. Star Mother changed. So will... AfterPony Scootaloo.
I find my pod at last, but there's no sign of Rainbow’s. Usually, I’d look around and find it, but I don’t. It’s here somewhere. I saw it a few hours ago or something. It’ll be fine. It’s not like anything can happen to it here; the Heart is safe as safe can be. Or something.
As soon as I touch it, the pod opens up and reveals the little nest inside. It won’t open so readily for anypony else, but it’ll open for me. It knows me. It’s kind of me opening for me.
I crawl in awkwardly and just drift off even before it can start administering any of its calming gas or nutrient drips. I don’t need them to sleep. I barely notice them attaching as I drift off.
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Seeing this story grow was a great experience. I believe that all involved came away better for it. I kind of miss the color though...
Yay! It's up!
An AI on a space ship called the Absolution in which a dark and mysterious entity is threatening its only crew member. If you're not a Toonami fan, I'll shoot myself in the foot.
That's what I wanted to say after reading the description. Looks like I need to buy a gun now... This is much more like the quiet, introspective science fiction that aims to explore the human condition, like Solaris. Looks pretty amazing so far, though I can't honestly say I'm deeply interested.
If the minds of the Element Bearers are incorporated into this AfterPony project, you would think Spike's would be too. He would likely add a valuable uniqueness to whatever the project is, and fact is, the mane six just aren't complete without him.
2022756 Dude, I love you. Stay gold, space cowboy.
Chapter 1 is off to a wonderful start. I love the creeping fear amidst the calm of the spaceship. The edge of uncertainty about what should be absolute. It's very reminiscent of some of the best character-driven sci fi I've read: it manages to capture the utter loneliness of space and it still introduces that dash of terror of the unknown. I'm intrigued by the mystery of the mission; the AI, Star Mother; the Heart... It's a very captivating world you've built. I can't wait for chapter 2!
Good start. Reminds me of Solaris.
The real question is does she Love Like Ghosts
Sorry maybe
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