Twilight had been living as a program in a college guy's computer, but now she's back in Equestria! Unfortunately, she's still a program, only now she's stuck inside a robot pony. No one's happy about this. ("Pony.exe"/"The Iron Horse" Crossover!)
Twilight Sparkle: Once a magic student in Equestria, now trapped as a program running on a college student's computer. She just wants to go home. Turing Test: A robot pony whose primary directive is to make friends. She wishes she could be more like her organic friends. They're about to get their wishes and become closer than either of them had ever expected...
Spike’s bare, scaly feet padded down the hallway of Twilight’s castle. He came to the door leading to a small room and knocked on it. When he got no response from the sole occupant inside, he turned the handle and walked in.
The robot sat there, totally motionless, her head drooped slightly and her eyes darkened.
Spike cleared his throat. “It’s morning! Time to get up!” he said, deciding not to mention that he’d actually slept in or that it had been morning for at least three hours. Of course, he hadn’t realized that the mechanical pony in front of him would stay in “sleep mode” all that time as well.
She continued to sit, unmoving, as Spike crossed his arms, a frown forming on his scaly face.
“Oh, right. You have to hear your name first. I forgot.” He sighed. “In that case: good morning, Turing Test.”
Instantly, there was a hum of electricity and the mechanical mare’s ears squeaked on their hinges as they raised and lowered. Her dark eyes began to glow violet and she raised her head, gradually rising to her hooves. The servos in her arms and legs calibrated and whirred and her eyes shrank and grew, refocusing. At last, standing to her full height, she turned her head to Spike and, in her synthetic voice, replied with “Good morning, Spike the Dragon.”
It had been several weeks since the robot had come to stay with Twilight and him. Ever since they’d found her in Sweet Apple Acres, scorched and damaged by lightning with no memory of what she’d been doing there or who’d sent her, Twilight had taken her in and given her a new directive: make friends. And that - despite her strange, mechanical nature and lack of understanding of pony society - was just what she’d been doing since then.
Still, even now, she was a strange sight. Almost completely made of metal, brass hooves, black rubber around her joints, whitish polymer coils for her mane and tail, her ears on hinges, and her glowing violet eyes which were fashioned from amethyst lenses. She made whirrs and clicks and squeaks with each movement she made. She was so strange, unlike anything else in Equestria, and yet, they’d all found she was still a pony at heart, even if that heart was mechanical.
She looked out her small window and then back to the little dragon.
“Spike the Dragon, my internal chronometer indicates that it is 10:23 in the morning. The position of the sun supports this.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, Twilight got a call to attend an Emergency Meeting with the other princesses late last night. Something about magic and disturbances or something.”
“She does not require our assistance?”
“Guess not,” he replied. “Anyway, I figured I’d just sleep in. I didn’t know you’d do the same until I woke you up.”
“Understood.” The mechanical mare switched to her ‘U-Mode,’ her orichalcum horn sliding into place, as she levitated over a can of metal polish and a rag from the small table she kept in her mostly spartan room.
“Getting ready for the day?” Spike asked with a grin.
“Affirmative.” She paused, then looked directly at Spike. “Spike the Dragon, I am told that it is improper to watch a lady when she is taking a bath.”
Spike blinked, then blushed. “Oh!” he cried, holding up his claws as he began to back out of the room. “I mean, I didn’t realize--”
“That was a joke,” Turing Test said, tilting her head slightly. “Ha ha.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he grumbled. “Well, I better get moving. I have a bunch of errands to do today.”
“As do I. Pinkie Pie has requested that I meet her at Sugarcube Corner at 11 o’clock. I do not know what her purpose is, but I am hopeful that today will be interesting.”
***
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Oh dear.”
“What? What is it?”
“Ah ha ha ha, now hang on just a sec’, Dave. Just a bit of a wonky reading. Might have been a fluke.”
David sat back down on his bed, holding back his impatient scowl with all the willpower he could muster. His cheeks rested in his palms after an overdramatic flourish of arm-waving that the other room occupant didn’t notice. David’s room was crowded by one too many, and he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes, despite the gratitude he should have been showering. The other man sat on his leather office chair, at his office desk, with his repair laptop connected to his expensive, worthwhile lifetime friend. He could remember all the way back two years ago when the big lug had been assembled, mostly by his own hand, and he could recall all the blood, sweat, and tears he shed into creating the device. To say that the machine of many wonders was his little brother would be no understatement.
So here was this cretin, this outright plebeian, taking his computer and doing what he saw fit, plugging in several wires to several ports, refusing to give more information than what was basic, and being an all-around goof, not letting up on his skullduggery while he poked away at the keyboard of the laptop on the glass desk. In the back of his mind, David was slightly worried that he would gain a habit of grinding his teeth with the frustration and worry the man on the chair was causing him.
“Hmm? What’s this?” the man muttered. David sat up, sweat rolling down his temple. “Oh, someone took me up on that trade offer.”
David fell on his back into the mattress, the sheets cleaned less than two weeks ago, letting out a groan. The damn demon was on a game while running diagnostics! What kind of a moron does that? David pinched the bridge on his nose, letting out a deep sigh. It was all going to be worth it. This was a necessity he could not avoid. It would be all for the benefit of Twilight. Yes, it was all for Twilight.
The strange program called “pony.exe” had appeared one day some months ago. And with it, this strange creature that claimed it was a pony, a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle. She’d claimed to be from a place called Equestria, a land ruled by similar creatures, and talked endlessly and in great detail of all the friends she knew there. But now… now she was trapped inside his computer. And when she’d plaintively asked David for his help, well… how could anyone with a heart say no?
He lifted his head just enough to see over the wave of fabric of his shirt that had bundled at his chest. His own computer sat in relative silence, quietly whirring to itself, trying to mind its own business while it was hooked up to some kind of life-support device. The wide monitor sitting behind his orange gaming keyboard was eerie, adorning a completely black screen with a window that displayed white text slowly trailing downward spitting out bits of information here and there, causing a rush of activity in the disk whenever the man input something into the laptop that went into David’s computer. David held his breath, and for what he figured, Twilight was probably doing the same thing too.
“Find anything yet?”
“Nope,” the man replied, taking a swig of the coffee he had on hand, having the decency to put it on David’s dresser instead of anywhere near the expensive collected mass of electronics. “Still scanning and taking a look at some of the older files.”
David frowned. The problem had been getting worse, his computer getting slower and slower without Twilight’s hoof, causing massive problems for the both of them. Many a night were spent with David and his headache as he tried to pinpoint the problem. He had tried everything over Google’s horizon. Uninstalling old programs. Deleting files he didn’t need. Defragmenting the load of corpse game files that had piled onto his rig after playing too many Bethesda games. The only thing he didn’t do was do an Antivirus scan, because that simply wasn’t an option. He was already taking a chance at Twilight getting removed if she was actually discovered by this dunce, but he wasn’t willing to risk her deletion with a simple virus check.
She would tell me if something like that was wrong with the system anyway, he mused, eyeing the monitor. And she said nothing was out of the ordinary, so it all led to this.
He couldn’t see Twilight. He couldn’t hear Twilight. However, he could only imagine her trying her best to make her footprint on the system as small as possible. He couldn’t figure out a way to suspend the program entirely without shutting off the computer or putting it in sleep mode. Whenever the computer was on, pony.exe was running, which meant that Twilight was online too. No amount of searching for a way to close the program resolved in anything useful, and David didn’t want to straight up “end” the program from task manager. He didn’t know what would happen if he forced something like that on Twilight’s program.
“Heh, you’ve got quite a few interesting programs here, Dave,” the man said, a small smile on his face.
“Yeah yeah,” David dismissed, trying to ignore the other voice.
“I never thought that you, of all people, would have three different screen recorders, two sound editors, four versions of Running Wild, and a whole folder filled with, uh, some stuff.”
David sat up instantly. “What!?”
The man let loose in a cacophony of laughter. Slapping his lap, he snorted as he breathed in, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. David scowled, folding his arms, giving the dirtiest glare he could give.
Shoot daggers out of my eyes, shoot daggers out of my eyes, shoot daggers out of my eyes, David chanted in his head, trying to will the effect he wanted to occur. He suddenly wished he had Twilight’s ability to influence the environment around her, if only for a second.
“Oh man, that was great,” the man commented, after getting a hold of himself. “You’ve gotta loosen up, David. I’m not gonna wreck your computer, man. I’m barely running anything as it is. A scan here, a check there, some under-the-hood work, and everything will be ok.”
“Yeah, well,” David began. “It doesn’t help that you’re not telling me anything, Ron.”
Ron simply grinned. With the way he flashed his pearly whites everywhere, it was as if he was shoving it in everyone’s faces about how awesome his chompers looked.
“It’s not like you would understand much of it past the basic level,” Ron explained, checking something on his screen. “Everything else besides that is kinda boring and goes on to technobabble territory.”
“I would still like to know what the heck is going on! It’s my computer! I shouldn’t have to ask for the basic right to know how my stuff is doing!” David objected.
“Chill, chill,” Ron said, two hands up in mock surrender. “Do you want help with this or not?”
David was reduced to a grumbling pile of clouded anger, folding his arms as he stayed put on his bed.
Ron turned back to his screen. He blinked twice and leaned forward, checking something. “Here we go. Now that’s interesting.”
David was interrupted from his personal thunderstorm. He stood up, taking a few steps towards the workstation. “What’s up?”
“There’s a really odd program that’s running on your computer,” Ron said, gliding his index finger over the track pad. “It’s actually taking up a bit of your RAM.”
David’s blood ran cold. He thought Twilight said she could hide it! “Really? What do you think it is?”
“I dunno,” Ron said, giving the screen a sideways look. “The program’s trying to hide itself. I can’t determine anything about it because it’s sending an information feedback loop. I can’t gather anything concrete like this. Hang on a second. I think I got an idea.”
Crap, crap, crap, crap! David thought, his head racing. He had to deter Ron, but he couldn’t make it too obvious. He had asked for Ron’s help in the first place, so it wasn’t like he could abandon this late into the investigation. But, he couldn’t rip Ron’s laptop from his hands either without riling Ron. He couldn’t get onto his own computer, because then Ron will ask what the heck he was doing. David’s eyes edged to the power button of the case of his rig. Maybe if there was an accidental power outage?
David’s attention briefly was caught on the black screen of his monitor. Though he barely caught the words of white text that scrolled by, a permanent image was etched into his mind as he stared wide-eyed at where the dialogue once was.
TWILIGHT SPARKLE: Sorry, David. I made a tiny bit of a mistake.
David’s attention turned to the headset lying beside the mouse of his computer. He didn’t bother to put the microphone up once he was done with it last time. The microphone was wide open.
“Got you now,” Ron said with determination, his fingers all over the keyboard of his laptop. His pinkie slammed on the Enter key, and everything in the room hung for a moment.
There was a shortage of electricity, static leaping from David’s computer up the cords that were attached to Ron’s portable fix-it box, and blue motes of small lightning lances bounced off the keyboard. David jumped back, the hairs on his arms and legs standing on end while he yelped.
“What the hell?!” Ron shouted, flinching and rolling back from the desk.
Suddenly, both screens went blank, shutting off with a zap. The power lights of the two computers were unlit, and no activity occurred in either system. David and Ron let the moment soak in.
“What just happened?” David asked first, his voice shaky.
“I don’t know,” Ron said, letting his guard back down as he lowered his hands, making his way towards the laptop. “Try turning on your computer.”
David obliged, shuffling up to the dead computer, and with hesitation, pushing the power button until the light above his finger lit green. The fans at the back of the computer spun to life, and everything seemed ok as Ron hit the switch of the computer monitor, the screen injected with energy and showing the users what they needed to see in a matter of seconds. Ron’s own laptop turned on and did a boot process of its own.
David tried to steady his breathing and hide his twiddling fingers from the other in the room. Sweat freely fell down the back of his neck, gathering at the top of the shirt in a growing soak. He stared at his computer screen, reading the letters that came off of it as it entered into Windows, activating average protocols, asking for a password which he promptly put in before resuming its work.
And then, it reached the desktop, officially finishing its startup process. David stared.
“Well,” Ron began, turning to face David after gazing into the laptop screen. “It seems that whatever the program was, it’s gone now. It was probably the source of your slow-down problem, what with all the resources it was eating up. Your computer should be good now.”
David’s limbs went numb. He gulped. Uh oh.
***
Twilight Sparkle awoke on the ground. Again. Her head was a mess, and as her subconscious slowly dragged her actual self back into the realm of the living, she felt a pounding hurt on the top of her head. Groaning, she lifted her head for a mere moment before getting dizzy and having to lay back down again on her stomach. Her vision was woozy, unstable, and she couldn’t make anything out of the code in the not-too-far distance.
“What… What happened?” she asked herself. With mustered strength, she brought her head to standing attention again, looking around. A tingling sensation ran from the tip of her horn to beneath the base, where flesh connected to horn marrow. She squinted, blinking as she bared teeth, sucking in a breath between the clench. It hurt. A lot.
What had she been doing? There was a small amount of excess magic left in the area around her, which probably meant that she’d been in the middle of casting a spell before she was knocked out. Anything else before that was a guess in the dark. She had recalled David getting home late at night again and trying to fix Twilight’s headache, saying it was a problem with his computer because it was running slowly. At first, she’d thought it was her fault; too many spells that change different aspects of his computer could potentially end up disastrous if the side effects pile up. However, he reassured her that wasn’t the case, and that he would find a solution before the end of the season, reciting some ridiculous quote from what she thought was one of the many “video games” that he talked about playing. Of course, she didn’t get it, but the message still got through to her.
She got up, the fog over her eyes starting to clear. Her balance wavered, and she stumbled for a second before finding solid ground. Her head tilted up to the sky. “David? David, are you there?”
***
Pinkie Pie dipped a spoon into the bowl of batter Turing Test was holding and took a taste of it. She instantly grimaced, her eyes squinting as she took the spoon from her mouth and tossed it into the nearby sink. She made a gagging sound and eagerly drank down an entire glass of water.
“Your reaction suggests that my efforts were less than optimal,” Turing Test said, looking down at her bowl.
“I-it was a good try, Rinny,” Pinkie Pie said, offering a small smile as she laid her hoof on Turing’s shoulder. “Just… maybe you should go easy on the salt.”
“You suggested that a little salt could compliment and enhance the sweetness of the batter.” Turing’s ears lowered as she set the bowl back on the counter. “It seems that my inability to taste things is a major obstacle in working with improvised recipes.”
The two ponies were standing in the kitchen in the back of Sugarcube Corner. The bakery was closed that day, so Pinkie had invited Turing Test over for a surprise lesson in baking. Rather than strictly adhering to a recipe, Pinkie suggested trying to make something of her own and have Pinkie taste the results. Of course, Turing Test could memorize a recipe perfectly, but the idea of creating one of her own or improving upon an existing recipe was intriguing.
Unfortunately, in reality, her experiments were not producing very many good results.
“Perhaps this recipe will be more favorable,” Turing said, pushing another bowl over to Pinkie Pie. “It is a variation on apple pie filling. As Discord’s magic allowed me to taste it, it is the only food item that I have any firsthoof experience with. Perhaps it will be more palatable than my previous efforts.”
Pinkie sniffed the filling and smiled. “Ooh, that smells pretty good! Did you use different types of apples?”
“Affirmative. The original recipe called only for one type of apple. I reasoned that different apple cultivars could provide a pleasing variation of tastes.”
Pinkie Pie smiled. “Well, let’s give it a try!” She took a fork this time and selected a chunk of apple that was dripping with golden brown goo. When she took a bite, her eyes lit up and her ears straightened out. “Mmm!” she murmured. “This is really good, Rinny! What else did you do differently?”
“Other apple recipes feature certain combinations of ingredients, so I adapted them and added a small amount of lemon juice as well as a half teaspoon of NMETNEMNTNMGGGG!” On that last word, her head suddenly went lopsided and her eyes began to flash as her ears jerked in opposite directions.
Pinkie blinked. “Um... I’ve never heard of that spice, but this tastes like nutmeg.”
“Yes,” Turing said, raising her head and adjusting her footing. “‘Nutmeg’ is what I intended to say. However, I seem to have experienced a sudden power surge.”
“Oh. Well, are you okay?” she asked quietly, stepping over to her.
“I appear to be. However, perhaps I should scan for any anomal--”
(“David?”)
Turing froze, stopping in mid-sentence.
(“David, are you there?”)
Turing Test looked around. Though her ears were normally attuned well enough to pinpoint the location of almost any sound, for some reason she could not locate the origin of the voice she’d heard. But even if she couldn’t find the source, she knew that voice in an instant, for it was more familiar than any other pony’s to her: it belonged to Twilight Sparkle.
“Twilight Sparkle?” she asked, looking about. “Where are you?”
Twilight’s vision cleared and, as she looked around, her jaw dropped open. Back inside David’s computer, she’d seen lines of code - long lines of glowing numbers and letters - scrolling up and down all around her. This was much the same, but on a scale unlike anything she’d seen before.
At the center of her darkened little room, she saw literally thousands of these lines forming a veritable forest of ever-scrolling, ever-changing code. But there was more to it; the code in David’s computer had been recognizable, but the strange designs on these lines was something completely different. And yet, despite the fact that she couldn’t read it, per se, she somehow felt like she actually understood what she was seeing on some level.
Furthermore, these lines not only scrolled vertically, but as she craned her neck, she saw that they scrolled horizontally, swirled in circles, and all seemed to join and separate in a tangled, dynamic web that continuously formed and reformed like a school of fish.
“Incredible,” she breathed. This was something new and she had a suspicion that she was no longer in David’s computer, but inside something infinitely more complex.
She drew herself up and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Thus calmed, she began to focus and concentrate, slowly working to make sense of the swirling chaos all around her. Panicking wouldn’t get her anywhere, she told herself. Instead, she would focus and tackle the problem that lay before her. Her horn began to glow and she began searching for something, following the data, until at last she found it.
Auditory input successfully rerouted.
She didn’t hear that, so much as feel it. But once she did, a strange voice filled her ears.
“Twilight Sparkle? Where are you?”
(“Here!”) came the reply. (“Whoever you are, I’m right here!”)
Turing turned her head to the left and right, not paying attention to the fact that Pinkie was staring at her with a befuddled look.
“I hear you, Twilight Sparkle, but I am unable to locate you. You do not seem to be in close proximity. Have you learned a new spell by which to communicate over long distances?”
(“What? No… at least I don’t think so.”) There was silence for a moment, then Twilight’s voice came again. (“Listen, um… is somepo-- somebody named David there?”)
“I am not aware of any individual with that name in the vicinity.” She turned to Pinkie, who was still watching her. “Pinkie Pie, do you know of someone named David?”
Pinkie blinked. “Uh, can’t say that I do!” she replied. “By the way, Rinny, why are you talking to yourself? Ooh, is it for fun? Because sometimes I do that too! I’m great company for myself!”
“Do you mean that you cannot--”
(“PINKIE!”) came the ecstatic cry, and Turing halted in mid-sentence. (“Oh my gosh, Pinkie, is that you?! Oh, I… how… how did you find me? Did David manage to contact you while I was out? Or are you here in David’s world?!”)
Turing watched Pinkie, who was in turn waiting for her to continue her sentence. “Pinkie Pie, do you not hear Twilight’s voice?”
“Um… noooo, I don’t think so,” Pinkie replied, holding a hoof to her ear. “Listening, listening, listening… nope! No Twilight around here! Do you hear her? Are you using your awesome robot ears?”
(“What’s a robot?”)
“I am a robot.”
“Duh, I know that, Rinny!” Pinkie said, rolling her eyes.
“I was not talking to you.”
(“Your name is Rinny?”)
“No. My name is Turing Test.”
“I know what your name is, silly!”
“I was talking to Twilight Sparkle.”
(“What? But… how do you know my name?”)
“Because we are friends.”
“That’s why I talk to Twilight too!”
Turing suddenly lunged forward and clamped her hooves over Pinkie’s muzzle. “My apologies, Pinkie Pie, but I must ask you to be silent while I explain. Please nod your head to show that you understand.”
Pinkie Pie blinked, still momentarily surprised by Turing’s action, but then smiled and nodded.
“Thank you.” She released Pinkie. “It appears that I am able to detect the voice of Twilight Sparkle from a currently unknown location. It also appears that she is able to hear everything that I hear in real time. Furthermore, it appears that…”
She paused, lowering her ears as her head drooped. “It appears that she does not know me.”
Pinkie gasped. “Oh no! She lost her memory?!”
(“What?! N-no, I didn’t! I would have remembered losing my memory!”) There was a beat, and then she said, (“Well, now that I say it like that, I suppose it is possible…”)
“Pinkie Pie,” Turing said, raising her head, “please stand by while I attempt to assess the situation. I am now going to converse with Twilight Sparkle.”
Pinkie nodded. “Okie dokie loki!” she chirped, and took to eating spoonfuls of batter while Turing began to talk to Twilight.
“Twilight Sparkle, are you able to identify where you are?”
(“Well… I’m not sure. This looks a lot like David’s computer.”)
“By computer, you refer to a mechanical device which processes data?”
(“Yes! That’s right! Only David’s was more advanced than what we have in Equestria… but this looks even more advanced than that!”)
“Another inquiry: how did you gain access to my auditory systems?”
(“Well, I learned how to access and manipulate these programs in David’s computer. It seemed to work similarly in here too!”)
(“Well, I mean, there’s data and code and all this information flowing around. I mean, I assumed I was inside a computer.”)
Turing was silent for a moment. “In some sense, that is correct. One moment, Twilight Sparkle. I believe I have determined your situation and will now inform Pinkie Pie.”
“Mm-hmmm?” Pinkie asked, her mouth still full of batter.
“Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, here is my analysis of the situation: Twilight Sparkle, through unknown means, has become integrated into my systems.”
“Huh?” Pinkie asked, cocking her head to the side.
(“Wait, do you mean… are you a machine?!”)
“Affirmative, Twilight Sparkle. My name is Turing Test, and I am a robot - a machine in the form of a pony.”
“Um, I don’t think I get it, Rinny,” Pinkie said, scratching her head. “So, what does this mean?”
“To simplify my meaning, Pinkie Pie,” Turing said, raising her hoof to point at her own noggin, “a tiny Twilight Sparkle is in my head.”
Pinkie gasped. “Oh my gosh!” Then she got a steely, determined look in her eyes and placed a hoof on her chest. “Don’t worry, you two! I’ll take care of everything! Wait here!” That said, she dashed to the door. Before exiting, she looked over to her shoulder. “I’ll be right back with a hacksaw and a pair of salad tongs!” She then dashed out the door, leaving Turing Test - and by extension Twilight - alone.
(“Um,”) Twilight said slowly, (“that probably isn’t good.”)
“Agreed. I will now flee the premises, Twilight Sparkle. Though it is unlikely, please inform me if you experience any turbulence.”
She ran out the door, dashing through the streets of Ponyville.
(“But I don’t get it,”) Twilight was saying, apparently not being jostled by Turing’s galloping. (“The way Pinkie acted… and she knew you, but I don’t know you… it doesn’t make any sense!”)
“I suggest we seek assistance with another of our friends, Twilight Sparkle,” Turing said as she ducked into an alleyway.
(“Good thinking, um… Turing Test, was it?”) Twilight replied.
Turing lowered her ears again. “Correct,” she replied after a moment.
(“And you’re a machine? Well, that explains your voice.”)
“It does seem very noticeable to most organic ponies.”
(“‘Organic ponies,’ eh?”) She chuckled. (“Well, I don’t know why I don’t remember you… but you seem like a nice, um, robot. So, nice to meet you, I guess!”)
Turing Test lifted her head. “Yes. It is nice to meet you again, Twilight Sparkle. And while I also cannot explain our dilemma, I will devote myself to assisting you in solving it.”
(“That’s great! Thank you!”) Twilight cheered. And for some reason, Turing momentarily felt as though Twilight was kicking her forelegs into the air. (“Well, where are we right now?”)
Turing Test exited the alleyway and began crossing the plaza before Town Hall. Numerous citizens of Ponyville waved to her or jumped out of the way as she sped through the midday crowd.
“We are crossing the town plaza south of Town Hall.”
(“Then the Carousel Boutique is near! In that case, Turing Test, let’s go pay Rarity a visit!”)
“Understood. Now changing destination to Carousel Boutique.”
Neither Twilight nor her robot friend had any idea how Rarity would take this strange news, but they were about to find out...
Rarity puttered around her workspace. Her horn was aglow, various coloured materials and fabrics floating around her in different directions. The seam on the dress laid upon the sewing machine just wasn’t finished yet. She worked the equipment, pumping the pedal below the table, the needle properly stitching along a path Rarity visualized in her head. Her vision was quickly coming to fruition as she lead the thread here and there, weaving left and right in a manner that only made sense to the few who would actually get fashion. She looked up. A strip of a beautiful violet cotton was floating in her presence, almost forgotten in Rarity’s focus. She took one last look at the stitching she had done on the unfinished dress and tutted. She had a change of heart. It would simply not do.
She leaned to the right, spotting a closed baby-blue chest against the wall amidst the chaos she’d lain for herself, with materials, design sheets, various spools of thread littering the area. The latch opened, and Rarity rifled through the contents of the box, looking for a specific colour. Without thinking, her pair of red scissors floated beside her, ready for use. She frowned. Something was missing. Something critical. Then, a thought occurred to her.
“Did Sweetie Belle borrow my materials again?”
Her ear twitched. There was a knock on the door.
“Coming!” she called toward the hall. She got up and made a swift trot out the room and down the corridor, making her way from the second floor to the lobby. Reaching the doorknob, she lit her horn and took a deep breath, preparing for her welcoming spheel.
The door opened. “Welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where you’ll find our dresses chic, sleek, and magnifique!” Rarity said. She opened her eyes. “Oh, Turing Test. What a pleasant surprise! How can I help you?”
“Greetings, Rarity. I am here on behalf of Twilight Sparkle. She wishes to visit you,” Turing explained.
Rarity blinked. To the best of her polite ability, she craned her head, looking over Turing’s back, seeing if there was anypony standing behind her. “I beg your pardon, dear, but I thought Twilight was in Canterlot on a meeting?”
“Negative. Twilight Sparkle is currently installed on my systems.”
Rarity’s eyes widened in alarm. “Whatever do you mean?”
Turing didn’t say anything for several seconds. Rarity raised an eyebrow. She swore that she saw Turing’s purple eyes blinking softly in several random increments.
Turing raised a hoof.“Twilight Sparkle requested that I explain in her words: ‘I was trapped in a really advanced computer from another world, but something happened that I can’t remember and I ended up in Turing back in Equestria. I think I got placed inside Turing because she is a robot and runs on an operating system of some sort.’”
“Oh, don’t be so silly, dear,” Rarity scoffed, lifting her hoof near her muzzle as she turned away slightly. “You have been hanging around Pinkie Pie a lot lately, haven’t you? Her type of humour is rubbing off you quite well.”
“I am not being silly,” Turing stated. “Twenty-two minutes and fifty seconds ago, an error occurred in my system and an anomaly appeared in my databanks. She is claiming to be Twilight Sparkle, and has the same voice, mannerisms, and speech patterns as her. I have confirmed this after a self-diagnostic. If you wish for further proof, please consult Pinkie Pie, who I was with during the time Twilight Sparkle appeared ‘in my head’.”
Rarity’s amused expression disappeared without a trace. “Truly? Twilight’s inside of you?”
“That is correct,” Turing said.
“But when would Twilight have disappeared? I received a parcel on my front doorstep this morning stating she was off in Canterlot on an important leave! D-do you suppose something happened to her up there?”
“It is possible,” Turing stated, the metaphorical gears in her head turning. “But there are too many possibilities that could lead to this result, all which are of a low percentage chance of occurring. I have prevented myself from analyzing such routes of thought to prevent logical loops that are non-conclusive. However, if an event occurred in Canterlot that affected Twilight Sparkle’s status of well-being, somepony would most certainly have sent a message, either by mail or by Spike’s Dragonfire.”
“Well, has Spike said anything about a letter from the Princesses?” Rarity asked, urging Turing to elaborate.
There was silence from Turing. Rarity opened her mouth, but noticed Turing’s eyes flashing brighter than normal at various intervals. Her patience was wearing thin.
“Twilight requests for me to remind you that she was not in Canterlot, but in fact in an entirely different universe in another computer system. Currently she is experiencing signs of distress and confusion at the situation we have been discussing.”
“I would be most distressed too if I was stuck in another being!” Rarity voiced, which she quickly tried to recover from. “No offense to you Turing, but this is becoming more and more ridiculous.”
“Furthermore, she reports of having no memory of me, although is willing to share the same kind of friendship she and I once had,” Turing said.
“That’s horrible!” Rarity exclaimed. “She remembers me, but not you?”
“Affirmative. Further emphasising why she wanted to see you so badly, she was in a jubilant state when she heard your voice again.”
“Oh, yes, quite,” Rarity stated, recalling that Twilight was supposedly listening in to their conversation. “Her being stuck otherwise, how is she in there?”
There was a pause, followed by more silence as Turing got information for Rarity. She found it exceedingly awkward waiting for a response, but was eager to listen to Turing’s next words.
“Twilight Sparkle states that she is ‘fine, but a bit confused about everything’. She has also has complemented the inner workings of my system, citing them as ‘an amazing assortment of technological programming prowess’. She ‘truly wishes she could see you, though’.”
“What do you mean? Is it not that Twilight’s seeing me right now?”
“The answer is both affirmative and negative. Although Twilight is visiting you and communicating to you through me, thus ‘seeing’ you, she does not have the capability—”
Turing cut short. Rarity jumped when Turing’s head suddenly shut down, her robot body still standing with her skull hanging from her neck limply, her eyes off. The seamstress stared wide-eyed, inching closer to Turing, trying to find clues as to what happened.
“Turing?” she asked.
Just as suddenly as Turing stopped she started again, lifting her head and looking straight at Rarity – or at least that’s what Rarity figured. She wasn’t certain, but Rarity swore that there was something different in Turing’s eyes, something that changed.
“Oh, Rarity…”
Twilight was almost in tears. A screen was displayed to her amidst the darkness and lines of code in the domain of Turing’s system, showing an array of bright colours and sights that Twilight’s eyes beheld. The large floating screen, stretching four times Twilight’s size and seven times her width, showed Rarity staring curiously at Turing, which looked like she was staring at Twilight. She could even clearly spot out the white interiour of the Carousel Boutique behind Rarity, although not much else was to be seen. Everything was crystal clear; the image through Turing’s eyes even more defined than what her own eyes could have seen. Twilight could count the spirals of Rarity’s horn, the lashes of her eyes, and even the hairs on her coat. It struck her as odd how clear the picture could be, but was a wonder to her now that she knew how exactly Turing saw the world.
“Turing, are you alright?” Rarity’s voice asked, echoing through the chamber that Twilight sat in.
“I am fine,” Turing answered, her voice with the same kind of texture to it. “My cranial processes experienced a slight interruption in activity. I am now detecting a change in my system and am also curious as to what changed, Twilight Sparkle.”
It took Twilight a moment to realize that Turing had switched who she was speaking to at the end of her sentence. “I found your graphic drive and had it double the output of your visual renderer. Now I can see everything that you see.”
Turing repeated what Twilight had told her to Rarity.
“Twilight could only listen to us speak?” Rarity cried out.
“Affirmative. Her functions inside my system are limited, but seem to be increasing as she learns more about my hardware and software protocols.”
“T-Twilight?” Rarity asked hesitantly. She was looking into Turing’s eyes, but Twilight could tell she might as well be looking right through them. “Darling? You can see me, right? H-How are you doing? How is it in… in there?” Rarity gave a awkward smile to Turing. “No offence to you, Turing.”
“None taken,” Turing simply replied. “I hope my ‘accommodations’ are pleasant.”
“It’s fine, Rarity,” Twilight said. “In here, I mean. The previous computer I was in I had been there for a few months, so I’m used to being in a system by now.”
Rarity said nothing. Turing didn’t move. The white unicorn tilted her head. “Twilight?” she asked.
Oh, right, Twilight said to herself, lightly tapping her forehead. “Turing, could you please relay my previous two sentences to Rarity?”
“Affirmative,” Turing said. She did as she was asked.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Rarity stated with a sigh of relief after listening to Turing Test. “Can you tell how she is, Turing? I mean, she is inside your system, so pardon me if I am wrong, but I assume you have some sort of ability to tell what she is doing and how she is feeling.”
“Negative,” Turing communicated. “Her faculties are unknown to me. Although her software is active in my system, there are private elements of the program. I cannot view her status without decompiling her source code, and I cannot decompile her source code because I have no way to translate the package.”
“Uhm,” Rarity started. “Pardon me?”
(“Turing Test?”) Twilight asked.
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle?”
(“Tell Rarity that it’s like trying to read a book that’s in Prench when you don’t speak the language.”)
Turing repeated Twilight’s words.
Rarity frowned. “I see. It must be quite perilous as a ‘program’. Nevertheless, a solution to the problem will be found eventually, right? If you -- Twilight, I mean -- disappeared from Canterlot, I’m certain that the Princesses are already on the job working to find a solution. And although I may not be very informed in the topic, I’ll do whatever I can to help you get out, Twilight.”
Twilight smiled. (“Thanks, Rarity.”)
Nothing happened. There was more awkward silence before Twilight jumped, realizing Turing didn’t return her statement, which she quickly urged the robot to do.
“Now, we’ve been spending an awful lot of time standing in the doorway, haven’t we?” Rarity noted, taking another look behind Turing’s back just to make sure there wasn’t somepony waiting for the way to be cleared. “Come inside for a bit. I would offer you a cup of tea, Twilight, but I can see that it’s not necessary to do so.”
Twilight’s ears twitched. (“Would you mind, Turing?”)
“No, I wouldn’t, Twilight Sparkle.”
(“Great! Then let’s go inside!”) Twilight said. (“Oh, and tell Rarity we would be happy to step inside. Although, I hope we aren’t interrupting anything too important.”)
“We could be happy to step inside. Although, I hope we aren’t interrupting anything too important,” Turing said to Rarity.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, dear!” Rarity reassured. “It’ll be a treat to speak to you both for a bit.”
Turing entered the Carousel Boutique, with Rarity closing the door after behind them.
***
After taking stock of things and Twilight telling her story to Rarity, the pair decided to find Spike in the hopes that he might be able to help.
Turing trotted across Ponyville after leaving the Carousel Boutique while the pony in her head remained silent. The conversation had gone very well, even if Rarity seemed more confused than anything, but Turing didn’t see why Twilight should be so despondent.
“Please do not be concerned, Twilight Sparkle.”
(“Hm?) Twilight murmured.
"You have not spoken since we left. While Rarity was unable to provide assistance, at least one of our friends now understands our predicament."
(“Oh, sorry. I’m not concerned so much as I am confused. I still don’t know why my memory is missing or why I don’t remember you. I really want to remember what happened, though… You seem like a very nice po-- robot!”)
Turing slowed and came to a stop.
(“Turing Test? Is everything all right?”)
Turing nodded. “Yes. I am just happy that you still consider me a friend, even though I am concerned about why your memory is incomplete.”
Turing heard her chuckle. (“Well, don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll find a solution once we talk to Spike! With his help and my magic books, it's just a matter of time!”) Twilight said confidently. (“Oh, and um, Turing?”)
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle?”
(“Do you, uh, think you could just say yes instead of nodding to me? And maybe try to trot a little more smoothly? Seeing everything from your eyes is making me a little motion sick.”)
“My apologies. I will attempt to do so. I would prefer it if you not regurgitate in my brain.” She paused, considering that. “Assuming that is possible.”
(“Let’s… try not to find out,”) Twilight said nervously.
“Um, Turing Test?” a new voice said. “Who are you talking to?”
Turing Test whipped her head around again, causing Twilight to give another cry of protest. They both saw Lyra Heartstrings standing there, her head tilted in confusion.
“Hello, Lyra. I am talking to Twilight Sparkle,” Turing replied.
(“Oh, I remember Lyra! Ask her how she’s doing!”) Twilight cried excitedly.
“Really?” Lyra was saying. “I don’t see her anywhere.”
“She is currently trapped inside my head,” Turing replied.
Lyra’s eyes widened. “What?!”
“Furthermore, she wishes to know how you are doing.”
“I… what? I mean… fine, I guess. Just really, really confused right now.” She shifted her eyes back and forth. “Um, any idea how she got in there, or is this some new magical experiment?”
“The cause of this situation is undetermined. However, neither she nor I appear to be in immediate danger.”
“I see,” she said, heaving a sigh. Still, she wore a smile. “You know, as weird as this all sounds, I guess Ponyville’s been through stranger things. This is actually kind of funny, when you think about it!” she said, covering her mouth as she giggled.
Turing tilted her head.
(“Whoa, whoa, straighten out!”) Twilight protested, and the sound of her adjusting her footing was heard.
“What do you mean?” Turing said, straightening her neck obediently.
“Well, it’s sort of like Little Twilight is riding around in there. You’re like a big, metal stagecoach to her now, Turing! Or,” she said, tapping her chin as she reconsidered the analogy, “maybe more like a train? Hm. I bet that must be kind of neat, getting to pilot a robot around like that!”
Inside Turing’s head, Twilight blinked and rubbed her chin. “Hmm…” she said, mulling that over to herself.
Turing Test, in contrast, said nothing.
“Well, good luck anyway!” Lyra said giving her a warm grin as she placed a hoof on her shoulder. “And don’t worry. Twilight is great at figuring out magical mishaps. I remember this one time I tried to make a potion to give myself fingers and accidentally turned myself into a seapony. I’m just glad that Bon Bon was home and got me into the bathtub in time.” She giggled at the memory. “I never thought I’d miss hooves so much!”
“That is an intriguing story, Lyra. Should we be unable to determine a solution, perhaps we will seek your aid.”
“Well, I’m no expert, obviously, but I’ll be glad to try if you stop by!” She turned to go. “I better get moving. I need to buy some spare strings for my lyre. Bye, Turing! Bye, Little Twilight!”
Turing waved a hoof. “Goodbye, Lyra.”
(“Oh! Uh, goodbye, Lyra!”) Twilight added.
“Little Twilight says goodbye as well.”
Twilight groaned. (“Turing Test, please don’t call me ‘Little’ Twilight. I’m not shrunken, I’m just… I don’t know what I am, exactly, but I’m not tiny!”)
“My apologies.” She turned and began trotting back towards the castle to resume her search for Spike when she heard Twilight clear her throat. “Is something wrong, Twilight Sparkle?”
(“No, not wrong exactly, but something Lyra said struck me,”) Twilight replied. (“She said it’s like I’m ‘piloting’ you. Well, I’ve already gained access to your ears and eyes, Turing. I’d be curious to see how well I’m connected to the rest of your systems!”)
“Acknowledged. Such information may be useful.”
(“Then I have your permission to experiment?”)
“You are my end user, so you do not require my permission. But as my friend, I trust you, so I will grant it regardless.”
(“Wonderful!”) Twilight cheered, clapping her hooves together. (“Now, let me see…”)
Twilight again focused her mind. The forest of swirling code all around her again seemed to fall into some semblance of order. The chaos of it all became, somehow, comprehensible. Her horn began to glow as she attempted a new spell.
Meanwhile, Turing continued to trot up the street. “Which of my systems do wish to access fir--”
Suddenly her legs went stiff, locking up, and her forward momentum caused her to pitch face first into the dirt.
The sudden sight of a robot tripping and falling onto her face was a first for the citizens of Ponyville. Bystanders stopped what they were doing and began to watch her.
(“Oops! Well, I guess I found your legs! Sorry!”) she said. (“Here, let me get that.”)
Turing’s forehooves pressed onto the ground and she shoved - or rather Twilight forced her to shove - off the ground with such force that she actually flipped over onto her back.
“You may wish to utilize less force, Twilight Sparkle,” Turing suggested, rolling off of her back and standing unsteadily.
(“My mistake! I think I got it now.”)
Turing’s left hind leg suddenly kicked out, then moved back into place. Then the right leg did the same. And then they both began alternating, kicking out in a left-right fashion so that the mechanical mare looked like she was either doing a very strange dance or some kind of aerobics.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Turing whispered as even more ponies came around. “Please cease this action.”
(“Sorry, sorry, I was just trying to--”)
Turing suddenly gave a full buck, kicking both legs out. Unfortunately, she didn’t fold them back under herself in time, which meant she lost her balance and flopped onto her belly with a loud clang. The crowd began to chuckle and even more ponies stopped by to watch the strange performance.
(“Gah! Hang on, I think I’ve… wait, what in the world is this?!”)
Turing got to her hooves again only for her horn to slide into place. “Twilight Sparkle, you have activated my U-Mode.”
(“Your Me-Mode?”)
“Incorrect. U-Mode allows me to utilize magic in the same manner as a unicorn.”
(“Amazing! Wait, if that’s the case, then maybe I can use magic to get us back home!”)
“I believe that would be inadvis--” Turing’s horn began to glow and she vanished in a flash of light.
A moment later she reappeared in midair a few streets over… directly over a cart full of flowers. She crashed down, her heavy metal body smashing the cart (and the flowers within) to pieces.
Lily, who was standing nearby with a watering can, screamed in horror as her morning’s work was destroyed in an instant.
“--able,” Turing finished, lying amid the debris. She was beginning to understand why organic ponies grumbled.
“Nooo, my flowers!” Lily screamed, collapsing to the ground.
Turing Test got back up yet again, shaking the petals and potting soil from her hull. “I apologize. I was not in control of myself.”
Lily, eyes aflame and holding back tears, got to her hooves and got right in Turing Test’s face. “Oh? Well then whose fault is this, hm?!”
Turing was about to respond when, from her own mouth came Twilight’s voice: “Sorry, Lily, it was me!”
Lily’s eyes went wide and she took a step back. “T-Twilight Sparkle?”
“Twilight Sparkle, please do not--”
“Yes, that’s right!” Twilight exclaimed, again speaking through Turing Test. “It’s really me inside here!”
Lily gasped and her jaw worked in silence as she shakily raised a hoof. “It’s finally happened!” she screamed. “The robot ate Twilight Sparkle!” Finally overcome, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, collapsing to the ground.
“This may cause some confusion, Twilight Sparkle,” Turing Test said. Then suddenly she began to move forward, again without intending to, as Twilight manipulated her limbs to go over and pick up Lily, who was still unconscious and limp as a wet noodle, and carry her back inside the flower shop.
“Don’t worry, Turing Test, I’m sure we’ll be able to explain this,” Twilight replied, now speaking only through Turing.
“Hopefully you are correct,” Turing said as Twilight made her lay Lily on the counter. “I would not wish to alarm Ponyville’s population by making them think that I had ingested you.”
“Oh, nopony’s that superstitious, Turing!” Twilight laughed.
“My experience with organic ponies has not assured me otherwise,” Turing replied.
“Ooh, are those gardenias?” Twilight cooed, turning Turing’s head toward a bouquet in the shop. She began trotting toward the flowers. “I haven’t smelled those in ages!”
“Twilight Sparkle, I do not actually smell flowers.”
“Well I do,” Twilight quipped, and stuck Turing’s face by the flowers taking a huge whiff. “Oh, these are wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping Turing’s metallic hooves together in delight.
“I do not smell them.”
“Really? Maybe I need to take another whiff.”
“That is not necessary, as I lack olfactory sensors. Please, Twilight Sparkle, we must--”
There was a cough. Twilight/Turing whirled around to see Rose and Daisy standing at the foot of the steps. Neither one was sure how long she’d been there.
“Uh, excuse me, Miss Robot, but why are you talking to yourself?”
Twilight shook Turing’s head emphatically.
“She’s not! She’s talking to me!” Twilight shouted.
“Correct.” Seeing Rose and Daisy’s mutual looks of shock at hearing Twilight’s voice come from her, she added, “I did not eat her.”
“That’s right, she didn’t!”
They continued to stare at Turing Test for a moment longer when Daisy’s gaze went slightly to the left and she saw Lily laid out on the counter.
“Oh sweet Celestia, they killed Lily!” Daisy screamed.
“Twilight Sparkle, perhaps we should leave,” Turing said slowly.
“I’m on it!” Twilight cried. Turing’s horn vanished and, once again under Twilight’s control, she galloped toward the door. Unfortunately, Twilight was still not totally coordinated in controlling Turing’s body, so instead she careened to the side and crashed right through the front display window.
“Sorry!” Twilight called over “her” shoulder.
“I also apologize!” Turing added, looking back at the horrified face of Rose as she stood alone in the smashed remains of her flower shop.
Once they were a safe distance away, however, Twilight slowed Turing to a trot.
“Whew,” Twilight said, “that was starting to get pretty bad.” She chuckled, looking to the left and right of the street at all the houses they passed.
Turing, meanwhile, said nothing.
“I have to say, finally getting to move around as much as I want, seeing Ponyville… this is wonderful after being trapped inside a computer for so long! I can’t wait to see all my friends and tell them about the crazy adventure I had.”
But, again, Turing made no reply.
“This body of yours must be pretty strong, though. I sure wish I was this tough! And it looks like you can fly! Well, I better not try that out,” she said with a laugh. “After all, it’s not like I’d know how to fly.”
Turing’s hooves momentarily locked, but Twilight managed to get them working again. “J-just a little while longer, Turing Test,” Twilight said, a hint of pleading in her voice. “To have a body again, to move again… it’s so wonderful. Besides, we’re almost…”
She stopped, seeing the shattered, broken remains of what had once been Golden Oak Library as she rounded the corner.
“...h-home,” she whispered. She walked over to it. “N-no!” she cried, slumping to the ground before the remains of the once-proud tree. “This… this isn’t possible! Turing Test, what happened?!”
There was nothing at first, but then, slowly, Turing’s voice came through.
“Th… annot re… uppressing… ility… eak.”
Twilight would have blinked if Turing had eyelids. “What?”
“You are sup… ility to speak.”
“I’m… I’m suppressing your ability to speak?! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”
Turing raised her head and finally moved her hoof of her own volition. “Checking speech capability… ability restored. Checking physical control… restored. All systems are functional.”
(“Turing Test, I’m so so sorry!”) Twilight repeated, her voice now once again inside Turing’s head.
Turing made no reply at first. Then, slowly, she said, “You have no memory of this event. Additionally, you have no memory of me or any of the other recent events in your life. Furthermore, you took control of my body in spite of my attempted requests that you relinquish control and even suppressed my ability to speak. Analyzing possibilities…” Turing’s eyes constricted as her ears twitched, squeaking softly on their hinges.
Twilight felt her blood run cold. (“T-Turing Test?”) she asked uncertainly.
“Analysis complete.”
In her own space “inside” Turing, Twilight saw a bright blue flash and a glowing, transparent bubble made of hexagonal tiles surrounded her.
“Turing Test!” she cried, placing her hooves against the sudden barrier. “What are you doing?!”
“I have determined that you are most likely not Twilight Sparkle. The period of time you describe and the lack of a connection to real events means that you are most likely a fabrication, a malicious program designed to bypass my security measures and take control over my body. I will not permit you to take advantage of me or my relationship with Twilight Sparkle.”
“But… but I am Twilight Sparkle!” Twilight protested, staring up at her digital space with wide, fearful eyes.
“Incorrect. You are a malicious invasive program. You have been quarantined and will now be deleted.”
Twilight gasped and was about to protest when she felt something tingling at her hooves. She looked down and saw that she was slowly disintegrating. Her body was slowly breaking apart into tiny, lavender pixels that flaked off and vanished into thin air. And it was traveling from her hooves, up her fetlocks, and creeping up to her body.
“No!” she screamed. She tried to run, but found that she was unable to move without her limbs.
All the while, Turing Test’s synthetic voice echoed all around her. “Deleting program… progress at 30%... 35%...”
“No, please! Please stop! It’s really me! I’m Twilight, Turing Test! I’m the real Twilight!”
Again and again she shouted for the robot to stop, but with each second she felt more of her body fading away into nothingness. Desperate, terrified tears ran down her cheeks.
“No… please…”
It was reaching up her neck now. Soon, she would be gone.
“Please… at least tell my friends I said goodbye… my friends, Celestia, my parents, Spike… tell them I love them all…”
She shut her eyes, feeling the nothingness creep up to her chin… and then it stopped.
Silence hung in the air and Twilight gingerly opened one eye.
“Operation cancelled.”
A moment later, her whole body was back, reassembled somehow. She collapsed, letting out a long, relieved breath and even laughing quietly to herself.
“You stopped,” Twilight managed to whisper. “Thank you.”
“I could not complete the operation,” Turing said quietly. Through Twilight’s eyes, she saw the robot was staring at the ground and she realized that Turing had slumped into a sitting position. “Your voice and mannerisms and concern for your friends all seem like those of Twilight Sparkle. In spite of your lack of knowledge and your experience contradicting with known information, I cannot risk harming you. I cannot risk harming my best friend.”
Twilight smiled, her own eyes beginning to water.
“If you are a malicious program,” she heard Turing say, “then please take control of me quickly and please do not let me be aware of my surroundings. It was an extremely negative experience when I was unable to control my own body or voice.”
She went silent, as if resigned to some awful fate.
And then she heard Twilight sigh and say, (“Turing Test, it really is me. I don’t know how to explain what’s happened, but I’m not some malicious program designed to control you. And I’m sorry for manipulating you like that. I didn’t mean any harm, I just… well, you know how awful you felt when you were trapped in your own body? I’ve felt like that for months! I just wanted to have the experiencing of moving about on my own again… but I guess I got carried away.”)
Turing Test stood again, turning from the remains of the library. “Understood. I forgive you for your actions and I hope you can forgive me for my rashness as well.”
Twilight chuckled. (“Of course.”)
“Then let us continue our mission, Twilight Sparkle. We must find Spike the Dragon and seek data that will allow us to free you. At that point, you will once again be able to enjoy your freedom.”
Twilight nodded, placing a hoof to her chest. (“Right! Let’s not waste any more time!”)
“Acknowledged,” Turing replied. “Now proceeding to your castle.”
Twilight nearly choked and managed to sputter, (“C-Castle?!”)
Turing sensed tiny Twilight’s jaw dropping. The silence that followed spoke multitudes as the two approached the vaguely tree-shaped castle.
(“No...way...”) Twilight whispered as Turing viewed it from a distance. It was as beautiful as ever, the crystal sparkling under the sunlight, as grand as how tall it stood, projecting an aura of safety and power. “That’s… That’s my castle?”
“Affirmative,” Turing responded, not slowing down. “This has been your home since the destruction of the Golden Oak Library, and as an extension, mine as well.”
(“Since… Since when? What happened to the l-library, anyways?”)
Turing took a left down the street to the front door of the crystalline structure. “I was not there during the events in which the Golden Oak Library was destroyed. However, I have stored data on what had occurred. A being named Tirek escaped from Tartarus and began absorbing all the magic in Equestria. Princess Celestia, Luna, and Cadance gave you their magic in an attempt to keep it away from Tirek, and you fought him in arcane combat. As a result, you were able to fight him to a standstill, but the Golden Oak Library was caught in the crossfire.”
Twilight gulped. (“What about the Elements of Harmony, and my friends? Did those come into the equation anywhere?”)
“At the time, the Elements of Harmony were not in your possession,” Turing continued. “They had been returned to their original location in the Everfree Forest. Your friends were ensuring Ponyville’s safety at the time, but were trapped by Discord until you successfully saved them.”
(“Discord,”) Twilight stated with a bit of malice. (“I’m assuming he escaped eventually, and that he joined Tirek in his attack?”)
“Correct,” Turing returned. She then added, “Your tone indicates hostility. However, Discord’s subsequent actions were key in defeating Tirek. He is currently one of your friends, and mine as well.”
(“Wait, Discord is?!”)
“Affirmative.”
There were a few moments of silence as Turing detected a raise in activity in her system. Twilight’s head hung loosely. (“So how do you know all this? Did I tell you?”)
“Indirectly,” Turing said, a few hoofsteps away from the front entrance. She took the handle of one of the towering doors and pulled, the flat glistening surface opening smoothly without any hassle. “I acquired that information from the journal you allowed me to read which detailed the events of Tirek’s attack and the events that occurred after. In fact, much of the knowledge I have gained was through multiple books in the castle library.”
Turing gazed through the castle doorway. Once again, Twilight was speechless.
The lighting was calming and peaceful, sunlight peeking in from the arching green windows at the sides of the hall, a design of a tree etched into the glass with a master’s quality. Turing briskly continued down the hall, not slowing down for one second, although not leaning into a sprint either. Twilight had enough time to take it all in; the smooth, waxed stone floor, the tall crystal pillars that shone bright in any light they reflected, and the green diamond doors with crystal arches stretching above them. It was like a wonder of magic how everything matched up to be, and Twilight felt truly lucky to bear witness to something that was apparently her own.
She eventually shook out of her stupor, allowing her to direct her attention to the task at hoof. (“So Spike and I live here now? Where exactly would he be?”)
“I have determined a narrow list of common locations Spike enjoys visiting,” explained Turing, taking a door to the right at a stairway. “The first location I am traversing to is the castle library, where there is a 65.102% chance of him residing there. Typically, he is either reshelving the stock, doing a variety of chores you assign him, or reading comic books.”
Twilight sat down, her expression somber. (“Heh, that sounds like Spike all right. I wonder if he’s grown at all. I hope he hasn’t gotten too greedy since I’ve been gone, although I think I’ve taught him better than that. I… I wonder if he’ll be happy to see me.”)
“He is always happy to see you, Twilight Sparkle,” Turing Test said.
Another tall door opened with Turing’s push. Inside lay a large open space, the floor keeping round wooden tables spaced out evenly, the walls holding rows upon rows of books, all varying in appearance. The ceiling felt like it stretched to the sky, and it was just as tall as the throne room in Canterlot Castle, if Twilight had to guess. There were several oak ladders attached to the walls, sturdy in appearance and perhaps in build. There were dark lines and swirls in the violet carpet, giving the royal appearance a nice, pleasant pattern that would give rise to a child’s games in their imagination.
Turing scanned left and right while a bit of drool escaped Twilight’s mouth. The robot took to the right, trotting around a bookcase and checking around the corner. Her movements in searching were very methodical, not stopping to check twice in any location, but not making any mistakes in her viewings. The back of Twilight’s mind could tell that the library wasn’t too much of a maze as they found themselves quickly at the other side of the room from where they started, but much of Twilight’s attention was grabbed by identifying the titles on the spines of the books and seeing if there was anything new.
(“Turing?”)
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle?”
(“May I take over your body for two minutes?”) Twilight asked. (“I would just like to see what might be in here. You know, take stock. I’m wondering if there’s anything I haven’t read before here. I promise I won’t suppress you this time. I think I know what went wrong the last time I moved your body, and I won’t do it again.”)
Turing paused, considering the thought. Twilight held her breath waiting for the answer.
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle, you may,” Turing answered.
Twilight did an inward cheer. (“Thank you, Turing.”)
Twilight’s horn glowed, and with it several bits of code in the background of Twilight’s current dimension reversed direction, surrounded by a pink glow, working towards each other with a sense of fluidity and purpose.
Suddenly, Turing felt it again. She lost control of her motor systems, and instead some other entity was directing them, her limbs disconnected from herself, a loss of feedback reverberating through her body. She was almost like a puppet, with her strings being pulled by a journeymare puppeteer. Her own system did a quick status check and found, true to her word, that Twilight left Turing’s motor drivers open so she could take them back at any time, if she wished. Being controlled, oddly enough, wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as it was last time.
Twilight guided Turing’s hull to one of the many walls of books, and peered up. Turing couldn’t exactly tell where Twilight’s interest was held, but a funny intuition in the back of her skull told her it was the bright red book a few shelves up.
(“Turing, may I use your magic to grab that book?”) Twilight asked.
“Yes, you may, Twilight Sparkle,” Turing replied.
Turing’s horn appeared and Twilight got a program to channel the right sequence through it. The book was grabbed in an alluring goldenrod light and brought directly in front of her. Twilight took the hardcover in both hooves, scanning the copy of Advanced Arcane Forces, Canterlot Fourth Edition.
“Hmm, this must have been newly published,”) Twilight said aloud, not realizing that her words also came through Turing’s speakers. “Last time I checked, the latest was the third edition.”
Turing chose not to comment. Twilight flipped through the first few pages, gathering little details important to her here and there, even though the publication information and the foreword about the book’s contents. She continued reading, and not thirty seconds had passed before she was knee-deep in another intriguing paragraph. Her eyes passed over a large diagram covering the whole of a page and a half, depicting a complex equation of magical measurements. She scanned the letters until she doubled back, checking something that she swore she saw.
“No, that can’t be right,” Twilight muttered. “That equation’s all wrong, the output of the spell is less than the input.” She had to triple check, just to make sure. “Yeah, I’m not reading this wrong, Professor Firestarter actually got this wrong. They must have not triple-checked their work. I think the editors must have had a day off or something too.”
Twilight rose her head from the text after getting immersed between controlling Turing’s body and reading the book.
“Wait a minute,” she told Turing and herself, flipping back to the beginning of the chapter. “I’m already on chapter fourteen? Since when did I read so fast?” Her hoof let go of the page, allowing the textbook to flip back to the first chapter. “I read through all of this too! I remember all of it! How long has it been since I’ve started reading?”
“One minute and sixteen seconds,” Turing helpfully chimed in.
“And how did I know the answer to that equation was wrong? I didn’t even have to do the work to know it wasn’t correct! By the stars, what is going on?” Twilight said, sitting Turing’s body on the ground and holding her own head.
“Perhaps you have gained my ability to process data quickly,” Turing suggested.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I am able to detect words in a medium and process their meaning with an efficiency of two-hundred and fifty words in 0.005 seconds. The data is saved in my memory, and I can remember the details exactly by word. Through use of my system and my body, I hypothesise that you have gained my ability to read quickly. In addition, it is well known by my friends that I am able to calculate equations and logical problems in an efficient manner. Because you are a piece of software in my system, you may have access to my processing power, and thus can calculate results of any logical, mathematical, or magical problem quickly.”
“N-No way,” Twilight said. “That’s amazing!”
“It is a helpful ability in some situations,” Turing mentioned.
“Wow, I can read through a book in an instant!” Twilight declared. If Turing had a mouth, it would be wearing a grin equal to the one Twilight was adorning. “I could do research so much faster! It would multiply my speed of work exponentially! Just think, if I wanted to learn about something like the inner workings of Unix systems, all I would have to do is sit down, find a bundle of books and then bam! In an instant, I know everything I need to know!”
“Twilight Sparkle?”
“Yes, Turing?” Twilight replied, getting shaken out of her surge of excitement.
“It has been three minutes and six seconds,” Turing politely pointed out.
“Oh! Yes!” Twilight said, canceling her spells and releasing hold of Turing’s system. (“Sorry, Turing.”)
“It is all right,” Turing accepted, returning the book to its proper spot and moving away from the wall of bookshelves.
They moved to the rim of the room. There was a certain circular table covered in books, a few scrolls that were and were not rolled up, as well as a piece of open parchment with an ink pot and a quill. The work station was empty, but appeared like it was left in a hurry, with nothing put away at all and the notes forgotten. Twilight noticed in the high definition vision of Turing Test that the end of the very last sentence of notes trailed off most suddenly, as if the final word was interrupted by something very sudden.
(“I guess I was studying something here last night,”) Twilight figured.
“Affirmative. You were pursuing the studies of Arcanium Oneirology. It was reported by Spike this morning at 10:23 that you left after receiving an urgent letter from Princess Celestia. You have expressed to me in the past that I should not, ‘under any circumstance disturb anything that sits on or around’ your work table.”
Twilight giggled. (“Well, I certainly wouldn’t like my study materials moved in the middle of studying.”)
“That had become apparent after the first instance where I cleaned up your books after you were interrupted by Fluttershy visiting with her new basket of kittens.”
Twilight couldn’t stop smiling. Suddenly, something caught her eye. A blue book on the table was closed and bookmarked, and after reading the golden-ribbon title of the book Twilight’s expression went straight.
(“Hey Turing?”)
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle?”
(“Could you take a look at that blue book over there to the right of the open parchment?”)
“Certainly,” Turing replied, moving to intercept the immobile object. The robot looked down on the hardcover, allowing Twilight to see the title that was printed in a fancy flair.
(“The Graduate?”) Twilight thought aloud to Turing. (“I thought I already read that book last year. I guess I decided to read it again when I wasn’t taking notes on research. Even though it was a good book, it’s not exactly one of my favorites. I wonder what made me start to read it again. It had quite the bittersweet ending, if I remember correctly.”)
“Bittersweet?” Turing asked.
(“Yeah, you know, an overall good ending but one that is sad and hard to swallow,”) Twilight answered.
“Sad…” Turing trailed off before taking the book in her own hooves and rapidly flipping through all the pages.
Images of the words in the work flashed in Twilight’s head, and she frowned. (“Turing, could you slow down a bit when you read a book like that? I may be able to read as fast as you now, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have such a rush.”)
Just then, Turing’s legs gave out as she collapsed onto the carpet, her forehooves falling useless to her front, the book falling in a clatter as its spine was strained while it lay open, the pages folding on each other.
(“Turing!”) Twilight called out, keeping herself from screaming at the abuse Turing was treating that poor novel with. (“What’s wrong?”)
Twilight felt Turing’s body shiver several times in succession, enough to make her realize that Turing was quivering. “Twilight Sparkle... that book was so sad!”
(“You found it sad?”) Twilight pressed, trying to figure out the problem as she searched Turing’s system from the inside, using her magic to bring up resource monitors to try and detect changes in hardware or software.
“That poor mare,” Turing continued, her voice slow and strangely unstable, completely different from her normal monotone. “That mare and her friend grew up together, best friends through their entire life with only each other for company, and in the end one of them is dead.”
(“Is this…”) Twilight began, eyeballing a graph that seemed to be similar with what she worked with in David’s computer. Her eyes widened. Turing was inhibiting her power output. (“Is this your first time experiencing ‘sadness’?”)
“I have been introduced to many emotions since I met you, Twilight Sparkle, including sadness,” Turing began to explain, unable to regain her strength. “And I have produced my own conclusions on ones I believe I have discovered.”
Twilight swore she heard a sob from the robot.
“But this is too much.”
Twilight loosened her eyebrows, her head scrambling for an answer.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Turing whimpered. Twilight had no doubt that if she could, Turing would be shedding tears. “It hurts.”
(“Oh, Turing,”) Twilight said, her voice soothing. (“Uh, we need to find you a happy book! Yes! Something happy that will fill you up with joy! Let’s get rid of those negative emotions!”)
“I...cannot…” Turing slowly uttered.
(“What do you mean, you can’t?”) Twilight cried.
Turing shook her head. “I cannot.”
(“By Celestia’s mane,”) Twilight swore, getting her magic into gear and taking Turing for a ride again. Without her own volition, Turing got up and started trotting around the library, looking left and right with a sense of urgency.
“Twilight Sparkle, what are you doing?” Turing asked.
Twilight said nothing, sticking out her tongue in concentration. Her eyes searched the spines of the books, quickly identifying which section of the library they were in. She went away from the outer wall towards the center of the maze, turning left and right, searching for the right book to use.
“Aha!” Twilight shouted, activating Turing’s U-mode and pulling down a moderately thick book. “Here, Turing, quick! Read this!”
“Why?” Turing asked as Twilight let go of the spell, sending Turing to the floor rear first. The book was released from Turing’s telekinesis and fell right before her, with Turing staring at it, miserable.
“Because it will make you feel better! I promise!”
Turing tentatively picked up the book with both hooves, analyzing the cover. With lots of hesitation, she opened the paperback and shuffled through it quickly, giving herself just enough time to catch every word on the page, the air moving from the rapidly turning pages blowing against Turing’s mane.
When the back cover closed with the final page, Turing instantly sat up, perking her ears and correcting her neck posture.
(“There,”) Twilight said, examining Turing’s vitals. Her power output was back to normal. (“The ending of that book should have been a lot more cheerful than The Graduate. All better now?”)
“That was… much more pleasant,” Turing decided before getting to her hooves. “Thank you, Twilight Sparkle.”
(“No problem,”) Twilight replied, rubbing the top of her hoof with the bottom of her chin. (“That was an odd phenomenon. I think that if I can gain innate abilities from you, such as reading and calculating fast, then you must be gaining some kinds of abilities from me.”)
“Such as a broader depth of understanding for emotion?”
(“Exactly,”) Twilight concluded.
The motor at the back of Turing’s neck whirred. “Experiencing sadness in such a way was crippling. I did not expect organic emotion to be so intense. Is that how you always feel when you are sad, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight frowned, choosing her words carefully. (“Feeling sad definitely has a disabling effect on what it has affected. But all emotions are like that. When you’re anxious, you feel as if you can’t wait and you need to run away as far as possible from what you’re anxious about, and when you’re angry you just want to smash everything and anything in your path. But when you’re happy, it is the best feeling in the world. You’re filled with energy, joy and hope! You feel like everything is alright, and everything will be alright as long as you keep a clear and steady head. Happiness brings clarity of thought, so I hope you don’t think all emotions are as bad as what you’ve felt.”)
Turing said nothing, putting a hoof up to her chest and looking down at it.
(“How did you feel after reading the end of ‘The White Feather’?”)
“Glad,” Turing decided. “And content with the conclusion that the author provided. I was happy to learn that the protagonist found love in the end after all she had been through.”
(“Great!”) Twilight chirped. (“That’s how you’re supposed to feel after a happy ending.”)
“When I have read books,” Turing started, “I never considered the emotions that the books tried to present to be relevant to my thought processes. I never connected with them, and did nothing but try and understand them to the limit of my ability, despite having no experience with them in the first place. I would try and read fiction to improve my understanding of emotion in order to attempt to simulate it in a real environment in an attempt to make myself like a normal pony.”
Twilight’s ears curved back. (“Turing Test.”)
“But now, after having realized the true potential of sadness and many emotions like it, I will never forget how it drastically it affected me. Thank you for sharing this with me, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight smiled. (“You’re very welcome, Turing.”)
***
Turing and Twilight found their way to the exit of the library, approaching the front door. Turing stopped just before she reached the doorknob, her ears lifting straight up.
Suddenly, the green door swung open, barely missing the end of Turing’s muzzle by an inch. Out came a familiar purple reptile, his eyes lazily gazing over, lost in his own thought until he almost bumped into the metal case of Turing Test.
“Oh, Turing Test,” he said, greeting her simply. “Back from visiting Pinkie Pie?”
Turing heard a heavy gasp from inside her head. (“Spike…”) Twilight said wistfully.
“Affirmative,” Turing replied. “But in an urgent matter I was directed to find you.”
“Why? What for?” Spike asked.
“Spike!” Turing said, although it wasn’t exactly her voice that came out of her speakers. Spike rose an eyebrow when his name hit his ears. “Spike, it’s me, Twilight!”
“Wow,” Spike laughed, “that’s a really good Twilight impression. I’m guessing you and Pinkie were having an impressions contest? Did she show you her Fluttershy impression? The first time I heard it I couldn’t believe that voice was coming out of those lips!”
“No, Spike,” Turing continued with Twilight’s voice. “It’s really me! I’m stuck inside Turing Test!”
Spike snorted, his lips screwing into a grin. “Ok, you got me there. Twilight getting stuck in you would be a pretty funny concept.”
“She is not lying, Spike the Dragon. Twilight Sparkle has been transformed into a program and is currently trapped inside my system.”
Spike folded his arms and looked at her sideways. “Oh really?”
“Affirmative. She appeared after a system shock that occurred at 12:55 PM at Sugarcube Corner. She has access to all my functions and faculties. We have attempted to speak to Pinkie Pie and Rarity about this, but they did not prove to be very helpful. I have returned to the castle with Twilight in hopes that you could send a letter to Princess Celestia, to confirm Twilight Sparkle’s missing attendance.”
“You can stop with the prank now, Turing,” Spike said, narrowing his eyes. “I can see right through your trick. I haven’t been around the Ponyville block without running into Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash’s antics.”
“Ok, then prove it,” Spike challenged, putting his fists onto his hips. “Tell me something that I and Twilight only know.”
The robot sat and tapped her chin, thinking. “You make me keep your old sleeping blanket from when you were just a little drake in the closet, even though you never sleep with it anymore,” Twilight quickly said.
Spike’s cheeks flared as his gaze turned to the ground. “That was before the Golden Oak Library was destroyed,” he muttered, “but that doesn’t mean anything! What if Twilight told you that while I wasn’t around, Turing? Huh? What about that?”
“And there was that time in Canterlot Castle when you were five where you burned down Princess Celestia’s bedroom and the Princess and I found you crying in the middle of the inferno!” Twilight continued.
“W-Well,” Spike began, “Well that’s--”
“And the crush you have on Rarity!” Twilight shouted.
Spike went wide-eyed before trying to hide his face with his tiny hands, looking at Turing between the gap in the middle of his elbows. He turned around, sputtering silently at first, unable to think properly, his tail as stiff as a board. “B-B-But no pony’s supposed to know about that! Not even Turing could be that good of a guesser! Was it that obvious?”
He checked over his shoulder. Turing visibly wilted, her ears folding, almost looking exhausted at Spike. Spike had never seen such seemingly organic body language like that from Turing before.
“Please, Spike,” Twilight said, “Please, you have to believe me. I would never lie to you. Listen to me, please?”
Spike had sweat rolling down his temple. He shifted his eyes left and right, away from Turing’s robotic gaze, unable to meet it. He chewed on the end of his claws, his mind turning as he said nothing, trying to make something out of the situation. Twilight waited, leaning forward in Turing’s head, muzzle inches away from the visualizer. Turing listen in the back in silence, not bothered at all that Twilight grabbed the reigns of her body without asking again.
“I…” Spike began. “Oh, alright!” He threw his fists down, throwing a shaky scowl at Turing. “I’ll go send a letter to the Princess. But, I swear if this is a trick, Turing, then it isn’t funny one bit!”
Spike stormed off without another word, exiting the library.
Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. (“Oh thank goodness.”)
“Indeed,” Turing agreed, grabbing control of her body again and following Spike with due haste.
Spike hurried down the hall with Turing following directly after. Turing matched his speed, which threw Twilight for a loop when she could barely keep track of the doors passing by in Turing’s vision. She had no idea where they were in the castle anymore, and although she guessed that Turing had a visualized map of some sort, she didn’t want to disturb Turing by either asking if she could display the map inside her head, or trying to find a way to display the map herself.
Turing entered the open door, looking around, trying to see where Spike was. Twilight took in the room with haste. The walls were slightly closer together than what she saw of the rest of the stronghold, making it more homey and welcome. The walls had books consisting mostly of non-fiction and binders holding some sort of important records, although there were notable gaps between some of the bundles of pages. The bookshelves were relatively new and were kept free of dust, along with the wooden maple desk near the end of the room right before the open balcony hidden behind purple curtains. There were two black file cabinets placed against the walls, closed. The desk had all sorts of papers littered around it, with a coupled used quills on top right beside long documents not of the normal paper size.
Spike was facing the balcony, hastily scribbling into an open scroll. He stopped, turning to look behind when he heard heavy metal hoofsteps. He shot a cold glare, rolled up the scroll, took a breath and set the parchment on fire, sending the ashes between the curtains and out the balcony.
(“No!”) Twilight cried. (“Turing, I need to use your voice! And I’m sorry for grabbing it from you before without asking!”)
“Spike!” Turing called out with Twilight’s voice, slowly approaching the young dragon. He turned around, his expression unreadable. “You should have let us read the letter first before you sent it.”
“What if I didn’t want you to see it?” Spike challenged, folding his arms.
“It was inadvisable to send that letter without us checking its contents,” Turing popped in. “We did not have the chance to give our recollection of today’s events, and your message might be biased.”
“Spike, you know better!” Twilight accused. “This is really important! What if you said something that wasn’t true? The Princess needs to know everything! We need you to write another letter right away.”
He turned his head away, closing his eyes. “No.”
Twilight grit her teeth as she stared at him through the window of Turing’s eyes. “And why not?”
“Because I still don’t believe you!” Spike shouted. “I saw Twilight just last night, inside the library, doing her studying as always! She was practically up until midnight! How could she have gone from the castle, to Canterlot, to inside you, Turing? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“But it’s true!” Twilight claimed. “I already told you Spike, I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that. Can’t you see?”
“Oh yeah? Well here’s a question for you, ‘Twilight Sparkle’,” Spike said, pointing an accusatory finger at Turing. “When I turned in for the night last night, what were the last words you said to me before I left the library?”
“I,” Twilight began, looking left and right, sweat forming on her brow. “I don’t know!”
“Ha! See? You aren’t Twilight Sparkle! If you were, she would actually remember that detail!” Spike concluded, smirking and folding his arms.
“Twilight Sparkle has been experiencing amnesia since she arrived in my body,” Turing explained. “She cannot recall recent events, nor can she recall her acquisition of the Castle of Friendship. She cannot even recall her position as my designated end user.”
“What?” Spike exclaimed. “Are you serious? For Pete’s sake, this is getting ridiculous! First, ‘Twilight Sparkle’ is stuck inside of you, and now you tell me that because you can’t answer Twilight-specific questions about recent things because she has amnesia?”
“That is not the case, Spike the Dragon.”
“I don’t want to hear any of it! There is no way in Tartarus that Twilight is trapped inside you!” Spike yelled, turning around to try and ignore Turing, steaming.
Twilight gasped after hearing Spike’s outburst. She looked away from the visualizer, eyes gazing at the transparent ground, her mind a storm. She deactivated her shared control of Turing’s speaker. (“What do we do, Turing? He won’t listen, and I can’t press my authority because he doesn’t believe either of us. I don’t want to force him, but he’s our only way to get the Princess's attention.”)
“There still is a possibility that Spike did send the correct information on his letter to the princess without much bias,” Turing responded, making her voice quiet enough so only Twilight could hear.
(“But we still don’t know what he put in there,”) Twilight pointed out.
The two of them said nothing, Twilight stressing over time. She saw Spike glance over his back slightly, probably wondering about the sudden silence they were submitting him to.
“I am detecting large amounts of emotional distress from Spike the Dragon,” Turing informed her.
Twilight looked up. She watched as Spike sniffed, lifting up a claw to wipe something at the bottom of his eye.
Twilight stopped, sat up and blinked, going wide-eyed before her ears stood straight up, wiggling slightly. (“Turing Test?”)
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle?”
(“May I use your body one last time?”)
“Yes, you may,” Turing replied without hesitation.
There was a change in pilot. Spike heard Turing’s hoofsteps and the music of magic being performed before a hoof went over his shoulder. He turned around to look at Turing.
“Spike,” Twilight said. “The last thing I remember in Equestria was leaving on a train. It had been a month since we went to the Crystal Empire. You remember that, right? You were the one who saved the Crystal Heart when I couldn’t?”
“That’s not something I would forget,” Spike said.
“Well, a month later, I had gotten a letter from Princess Celestia inviting my friends and I to attend a technology convention in Vanhoover, but the letter had seven tickets. So I asked if you could come too. You said yes, so we all piled on a train straight to Vanhoover. We fell asleep overnight on the train, and when I woke up, I was in a computer.”
Spike stared up at her for a moment before searching the ground, tapping the bottom of his lip. “I remember TecCon, and I remember the train ride, but nothing happened overnight on the train. I mean, you didn’t disappear or anything, and we all went to the convention center together the next morning. You were there the entire time.”
Twilight took Turing’s hoof off of Spike. “That’s the latest I can remember. I don’t have any more proof that this is me inside Turing than my voice and my memories, but I’m glad that you sent that letter to the Princess, even if I didn’t get to read it or have any say on what was on it, and I’m glad I knew you for half of my life as the best little brother a filly could have.”
Spike held his hands clenched near his heart, tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. Twilight was trying to keep herself from crying, too. “T-Twilight?” he asked tentatively.
“I’m sorry I seemed demanding at first, and I’m sorry that I was angry at you for sending the letter without my approval. I was just so happy to see you that I couldn’t control myself.” Twilight paused, looking for her next words. “I-If you’re not going to believe me, Spike, could you answer me one question?”
Spike nodded slowly, breathing from his nose, unable to rip his eyes away from Turing.
“Why was I given a castle after the Golden Oak Library burnt down?”
Suddenly, a burst of white light erupted on the balcony, pushing the curtains aside as Spike shielded his eyes and Turing’ visual sensors rapidly attempted to adapt to the new brilliance.
Spike opened his eyes, carefully looking at the balcony, not believing his eyes at first. “T-Twilight?!”
It was indeed her. Princess Twilight raised her head, eyes aflame, and spread her large wings.
“I’m here, Spike!” she said, smiling at him reassuringly. “The other princesses and I got your letter. Where’s Turing Test?”
Spike pointed and she turned, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the robot.
Turing Test was standing ramrod straight from her hooves to the tips of her ears. “Twilight Sparkle?” she asked tentatively. “Is that really you?”
Within Turing Test, Twilight stared out at the sight before them both. The pony was her, and yet, not her. The same mane, the same coat, the same cutie mark, the same eyes, and even the same voice. But she was just a little taller, her horn a little longer, and, most striking of all, she had wings!
“Of course, Turing Test,” the alicorn Twilight before her said gently. “It’s me.”
(“No!”) the Twilight within her screamed. (“Turing Test, that’s not me! I’m me!”)
Turing Test laid her ears flat and stepped back, causing Princess Twilight to frown.
“I do not see how this is possible,” Turing replied. “You are here, and yet you are within me. How can you be in two locations simultaneously?”
“I can explain,” the outer Twilight said, holding up a hoof gently.
(“Don’t listen to her, Turing!”) the inner Twilight shouted. (“She’s got to be an imposter! Here, let’s scan her!”)
Turing felt her systems activate as Twilight cast another spell. Her visual systems scanned the Princess’s biometrics, matching them to her own data.
(“Measuring height, approximate weight, retinal pattern…”) the Twilight within her said, narrating the scan. (“...Analysis complete: subject identified as... Twilight Sparkle? Within 99.99% probability?! Impossible!”)
“Please forgive me, Twilight Sparkle and other Twilight Sparkle,” Turing Test said. “First, allow me to designate a less confusing means of distinguishing between the Twilight Sparkle in front of me and the one within me. I recommend we designate the alicorn in front of me as ‘Princess Twilight,’ and the one within me as simply ‘Twilight Sparkle,’ since she lacks any memory of becoming a princess.”
(“Or an alicorn!”) Twilight snorted.
“Or… an alicorn?” Turing said slowly.
“Wait a minute,” Princess Twilight said, her eyes widening. “She’s not an alicorn?!”
(“Why would I be?!”)
“You have been an alicorn for the duration of our friendship, Twilight Sparkle.”
(“What?”) Twilight gasped. (“That’s… no… but I’m not! How in Equestria…?”)
Turing turned her attention back to Princess Twilight. “Princess Twilight,” she said, “before I hear your explanation, I ask that you please prove your identity. Biometric scans indicate that you are most likely who you appear to be, but I wish to be certain.”
Princess Twilight nodded. “All right,” she said, nodding calmly to her. “How can I prove that it’s me?”
“Twilight Sparkle does not appear to recall many events from recent memory, including the entirety of our friendship.” She leaned forward, seeming to stare at her intently. “Princess Twilight, I ask you to recall a time when your friendship with me was in doubt. After several events, you made a promise to me. Do you recall that promise?”
Princess Twilight smiled, chuckling lightly. “How could I forget, Turing?” she said, closing her eyes solemnly. “I promised that day that I would never send you away, and I would always defend your right to stay here.” She opened her eyes again. “So… do I pass?”
To Princess Twilight and Spike’s surprise, Turing’s knees seemed to weaken and she even looked to be trembling. Then she suddenly dashed forward, throwing her forelegs around Princess Twilight’s neck.
“Twilight Sparkle!” she cried, laying her head on Princess Twilight’s shoulder. “Oh, I am so happy to see you, and so relieved that you have not forgotten me! It really is you! I was so confused and… and saddened… but now that you are here, I…”
“Whoa, whoa, Turing!” Princess Twilight exclaimed as the robot held her tightly. “Okay, okay, I’m happy to see you too,” she said, chuckling and patting her on the back, “but seriously, what’s gotten into you? Since when are you this… well, ‘emotional’?!”
“My apologies,” Turing Test said, releasing her and taking a few steps back. “I recently discovered that my connection with Twilight Sparkle has apparently given me far greater emotional range and intensity than normal. I am not certain of how this has occurred, but… eheheh…”
Princess Twilight and Spike’s eyes bulged. Not once had either of them ever heard Turing Test chuckle.
“...this is exhilarating. The sensations… these emotions... I never realized…” She placed a hoof to the side of her head with a metallic clank, and seemed to be unsteady on her hooves.
“Okay, listen carefully, Turing,” Princess Twilight said. She swallowed before continuing, making sure Turing Test was focusing on her. “I need to talk to the other Twilight. Can I talk to her, please?”
“Oh. Yes, of course,” Turing said, seeming to regain her composure. “Twilight Sparkle? Did you hear Princess Twilight’s request?”
But it was then that Turing noticed that Twilight Sparkle was still muttering to herself. (“How… could it be? No, that’s… I’m… I’m the real… the only Twilight Sparkle!”)
“Twilight Sparkle? Please respond.”
(“What? Oh, she… the other Twilight wants to talk?”) She took a deep breath. (“Y-yes, please. I’m going to take control of you again, Turing Test. Just for a short time.”)
“Understood.”
Turing’s eyes flickered for a moment as Princess Twilight and Spike both looked to her nervously.
“I’m… I’m here,” Twilight said, speaking through Turing. She stood up straight, facing her doppelganger.
“Good,” Princess Twilight said, unable to keep the nervous waver from her voice. “Spike’s letter only told me a little bit. Can you tell me about what you remember, about this other world, and about what happened to you before you wound up inside Turing Test?”
Twilight nodded, noting the whirring sound of the robot’s neck. “Yes. Um, it began--”
“Oh, one moment, please,” Princess Twilight said, blushing sheepishly. She glanced over to Spike. “Uh, Spike, would you mind writing this all down?”
Spike nodded. “Right!” he said, grabbing a scroll and quill.
Twilight stood, looking over to the little dragon, seeing the familiar sight of her assistant ready to write, and honestly wasn’t sure if she felt like laughing or crying.
“Um, Twilight?” Princess Twilight asked.
“Oh. Yes, of course,” she said, turning back to the alicorn version of herself. “Um, as I was telling Spike, I was on my way to TecCon…”
Princess Twilight listened carefully as Twilight, using Turing’s body and speaking through her, told the whole story. About the computer, about David, about his world, and finally about finding herself inside a mechanical pony, struggling with it, and making their way to the castle.
“I see,” Princess Twilight said when Twilight had finished. She tapped her chin with her hoof, looking away in thought. “A few questions more, if that’s all right?”
“Sure,” Twilight replied, nodding Turing’s head.
“Um, in this world you were in, did you ever hear any mention of Canterlot? Or at least, that world’s version of Canterlot? Like a high school, perhaps?”
Twilight tilted her head to the side. “No. Why would I?”
“Just checking a theory,” Princess Twilight said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Next, do you happen to know the year?”
“Well, according to Turing Test’s chronometer, it’s--”
“No, sorry, I meant the year in that other world.”
“Oh! I’m not sure about how they count it, but in their calendar, David’s system said it’s the year 2053.”
Princess Twilight gave a start and went into a coughing fit. “2053?!” she shouted. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, I’m positive!” She held her/Turing’s head high. “I was in that computer for three months, twelve days, seven hours, and forty-two minutes; I think I would know the year!”
Princess Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I see,” she said slowly. “Well, that rules out one theory, but I think I’ve got enough to go from here.” Then she smiled. “Oh, and could you give Turing Test her body back? She’s been waiting long enough, I think.”
Inwardly, Twilight smiled. “Right. Hold on…”
Turing’s eyes shifted. “I am here, Princess Twilight, and I am aware of your discussion with Twilight Sparkle.”
Princess Twilight made a face. “It sounds weird when you talk about two of me.”
And then, to Princess Twilight’s surprise, Turing actually seemed to roll her eyes. “Tell me about it!” she said exasperatedly.
Princess Twilight blinked. “Let’s go to the lab I set up in the eastern wing of the castle,” she said, gesturing for Turing Test and Spike to follow her. “We might need to act quickly.”
***
The makeshift lab was a large room filled with several large pieces of machinery, heavy cables strewn across the castle floor, and a counter upon which several vial racks containing vials of potions were placed. Turing Test noticed that there was also a large, oval mirror attached to a strange mechanism that held a book in the center. She herself stood in a metal ring which was lined with blue crystals that periodically crackled and sparked with electrical energy.
Princess Twilight was flitting about, making use of both her hooves and her wings as she checked various readings. Turing merely stood there as the crystals surrounding her created a low-level electrical field.
(“Turing Test,”) Twilight asked, (“may I borrow your voice for a minute?”)
Turing merely nodded and let Twilight take over.
“Um, Princess Twilight?” she asked.
“Hm? Yes, other Twilight?” the Princess replied somewhat distractedly while glancing at a paper feedout from one of the various machines.
“I can tell you’re measuring various magical fields and frequencies, specifically those found in Turing Test,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the din. “It looks like you’re doing some sort of thaumaturgic strength analysis involving a directional casting trace.”
Princess Twilight glanced over her shoulder. “That’s right!” she said, flashing a smile. “Where did you learn--” She paused, smacking her own forehead. “Right. You’re me.”
“Uh, excuse me,” Spike said, raising a clawed finger. “What does that all mean?”
“It means that I’m analyzing a specific spell and figuring out its origin.”
“Princess Twilight,” Turing Test said, resuming control of her voice, “you seem to have accepted that Twilight Sparkle is ‘you,’ in a manner of speaking. And yet you are you? How is that possible?”
“Give me a few more minutes and I’ll find out.” She moved from the readout to the counter with the potion vials. She took out one and dropped a small, symmetrical crystal into it. It changed color from white to green as the vial bubbled. Princess Twilight levitated the crystal out, letting the excess liquid drop from it. She then cast some sort of spell on it, firing it from her horn, and walked it over to Turing Test.
Holding the crystal up, she watched as a purple glow formed in the center of the green crystal and seemed to pulse out, gently spreading further and further until it overtook the entire crystal, turning it purple.
Twilight Sparkle resumed her control of Turing’s voice and said, “A diffusion test! And it looks like whatever you’re measuring is diffusing rapidly.”
Princess Twilight frowned, knitting her eyebrows together. “Oh no. This is even worse than I thought.”
“What is?” Twilight asked, speaking through Turing once more.
Instead of responding, Princess Twilight went over to the switchboard on the wall and flipped all the switches in succession. One by one, the machines switched off and ground to a halt.
“Spike, can you please bring me the readout, and then check them against the numbers on the page of the notebook on the counter.”
Spike nodded. “Sure thing, Twilight!” he said, doing as she asked.
“Okay… T7, H83, M176, B14, B113, C153.”
Spike quietly repeated each number. “...C153.” He nodded. “They’re the same, Twilight!”
Princess Twilight took a deep breath as she stepped over to face Turing Test.
“Okay, you two. I couldn’t be absolutely sure what was going on, but now I am. And I know how Twilight was integrated into your system, Turing.”
“You do?” Twilight said.
“How did it happen?”
Princess Twilight put a hoof to her chest. “It was my fault.”
Turing Test said nothing, but jerked her head back in surprise.
“Let me explain,” she began, taking another breath. “Twilight, you should know that I’ve had contact with the human world before, but that was to a place called Canterlot High. I was curious about the detection of and travel to alternate realities and reasoned that I might be able to do it by recording my own magical signal and sending it through the ether to see if I could resonate it with my counterpart in another universe. I thought I was sending it through the mirror to the world of Canterlot High, but it looks like I accidentally sent it to another, somewhat similar world.”
Twilight resumed her control of Turing’s voice. “And that other counterpart was me. I see now…”
“But I didn’t count on it interacting with you in such a way!” Princess Twilight cried. “For some reason, be it magical instability or just rotten luck, it created a siphoning effect to try and bring you to this world. Not only that, it kept you in your current form as a program in a computer. But you couldn’t just go nowhere… you had to go somewhere that could accommodate you. The only machine like that in Equestria--”
“--is me,” Turing Test surmised.
Princess Twilight nodded. “That’s right. But it created such a huge magical backlash that it was detected at the Royal Institute of Magic at Canterlot University. You coming here created a ripple effect so strong, Princess Celestia called all the princesses together to see what it was and prepare for a possible emergency. Of course, nothing happened, but it wasn’t until Celestia got Spike’s letter, which I read, that I realized that the pony who caused all of this was me.”
Turing Test tapped her chin. “That’s really strange.”
Spike and Princess Twilight both raised an eyebrow at the subtle use of a contraction, but Princess Twilight pressed on. “I might be able to put this right, though,” she said. She came over and put her hoof on Turing’s shoulder. However, her gaze was stern.
“What’s the matter?” Twilight said.
Princess Twilight flinched, still not used to the two alternating voices coming out of the same body.
“That diffusion detection spell was measuring Twilight’s signal integrity. But according to the reading, she’s diffusing. More specifically, she’s mingling and reintegrating with you.”
Turing tilted her head to the side, seemingly not understanding.
“Turing, don’t you see? Your greater emotional depth? Twilight’s meticulousness and ability to read and understand books?”
“You mean that we’re becoming more like each other as we share abilities? That doesn’t seem so bad.”
“No, Turing, you’re not just sharing abilities or swapping them like some sort of mental Traders Exchange!” she said, staring directly into her eyes. “You and Twilight are slowly merging. You are quite literally becoming one being. One body, one mind, one pony.”
Turing Test heard Twilight gasp.
“And while it’s only in the early stages now,” Princess Twilight continued, “it is progressing rapidly. And once it progresses too far, you will be so entangled that it will be impossible to separate you!”
Turing’s eyes constricted.
“No!” Twilight shouted, seizing Princess Twilight and shaking her roughly. “You have to do something!”
“I might have a solution, Twilight,” Princess Twilight said, patting Turing’s hoof comfortingly. “But I’ll need to work quickly. If I’m right, you could have as little as a few hours before you become one and the same. Just let me get to work on devising a reversal spell, and I can get you back to your friend David.”
“Wait,” Twilight said, holding up a hoof. “Why back to David? I mean, that would be nice, but if you could get me back to Equestria, to my Equestria, then--”
But Princess Twilight was already shaking her head. “I have no way to trace back to your original universe, Twilight. I’m sorry, but this is the best I can do.”
Princess Twilight smiled and turned away to begin her work, but she froze when she heard Turing Test speak her name.
“Princess Twilight,” she said, and her voice was low. “There’s no need. We will be fine as we are.”
Princess Twilight whirled around. “What?!”
(“Yeah, what?! I didn’t agree to that!”)
“I’ve analyzed the situation. You are sentencing Twilight Sparkle to a tiny prison in a foreign universe. With me, she can be back in Equestria among her friends. She will have my powerful mind, and I will finally be able to experience the full range of normal emotions to become like a normal, organic pony. Don’t you see, Princess Twilight?” she said, holding out a hoof. “We will become something greater than ourselves! We will be a new being! We are better together!”
Both Princess Twilight and the Twilight within her were silent at this.
“Turing,” Princess Twilight said slowly. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”
“Listen to her, Turing! This isn’t what we want, is it?” Twilight pleaded.
“And living in a dark little room with nothing but lines of code is what you prefer?” Turing asked.
“I… I know it doesn’t seem ideal--”
“It sounds miserable. You will be alone. And so… and so will I.” The mechanical mare slumped to the floor, her voice growing quiet. “Having you within me has been difficult, but sharing these new feelings and ideas with another, a pony who will never leave me, who will even become a part of me… can’t you appreciate how fantastic having such a close friend will be?”
Princess Twilight stepped forward and opened her mouth to say something, but it was the other Twilight who spoke first.
“Turing Test, you are my friend. And I can’t imagine how it must feel to be so different from all the other ponies. And you are right that going back to that computer sounds, well, less than fun. But friendship is about sharing your existence with others, not having the same existence!
“And think about it like this: if we merge, then both you and I will disappear! The Twilight who has friends waiting for her back in Equestria will never,” she paused, choking back a sob, “never reunite with those friends. And I want to see them again so much. No matter what, Turing Test, the ponies in this universe aren’t the same. They’ve had friendships with this universe’s Twilight, not me!
“The same goes for you, Turing Test. Pinkie Pie and Rarity and Spike and even Princess Twilight consider you a friend. Heck, even Discord!” she said with a laugh. “If you merge with me, then the pony they made friends with will be gone too! And she’s a great friend, and unlike any pony in the world! Don’t you think she deserves a chance to be her own pony, and not somepony else?”
Turing was still for a moment, but then shivered and seemed to bury her face in her hooves.
“Twilight Sparkle,” she whimpered. “I’m… I’m sorry!”
Princess Twilight heaved a sigh and went over to her, holding her.
“I am being so selfish! I thought… I thought if I… oh, Twilight Sparkle, I am a horrible pony!”
“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Princess Twilight said, as if comforting a crying foal. “It’s okay, Turing. I know how confusing feelings can be. And it can’t be easy dealing with ones you’ve never had before! But Twilight Sparkle - the other one - is right. Please stay with us. You have a home and friends here, and I’m sure that one day you’ll develop richer emotions of your own.”
Turing slowly nodded, looking up at the Princess. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” She got to her hooves uneasily. “I apologize. I will cooperate.”
Inwardly, Twilight Sparkle breathed a sigh of relief. (“Thank you, Turing.”)
Princess Twilight nodded. “Listen, this will take me a small amount of time to do, but I can handle it on my own. Why don’t you and Twilight spend a little time together before we send her home, okay?” She smiled. “I’m sure she’s going to miss you a whole lot, Turing Test.”
Twilight chuckled. (“Like you wouldn’t believe, Turing Test.”)
***
Turing Test stood out on the castle balcony overlooking Ponyville. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, orange glow out over the town. Turing rested her front hooves on the railing of the balcony as Twilight likewise looked through Turing’s eyes and through her ears heard the soft sounds of birds chirping, ponies heading home for the day, and the quiet whisper of the breeze rustling the nearby trees.
“It’s beautiful,” Turing said quietly, breaking the quiet stillness between them.
(“Yeah,”) Twilight sighed. (“It sure is.”)
“I never knew that.”
(“Hm?”) Twilight asked. (“Knew what?”)
“I never knew that it was beautiful. I did not understand the word as I do now, but, processing the images through you, I…”
Twilight felt the wave of emotion come over Turing Test. Even as Princess Twilight hurried to complete her work back in the lab, Turing Test and herself were connecting more and more, the barrier between their individual minds weakening and blurring. Turing’s awe, her sadness, her guilt, and, thankfully, her happiness were all flowing into Twilight’s mind. And it seemed that the process worked both ways.
“You are sad,” Turing said slowly. “And… worried? Yes.”
Twilight lowered her head, hugging herself. (“Yes, Turing. I just… I just wonder if I’ll ever get to see Ponyville again. My Ponyville. I want to see my world again with my own two eyes…”) Turing heard the tiny voice within her let out a sob, the soft sound of her crying filling her ears.
Turing would have cringed if she’d been able. Twilight’s emotion, her longing for her home, was beautiful and exhausting at once. Turing paused for a moment, considering what to say.
“Twilight Sparkle, please don’t cry,” she said. “Um…” She pat her her own head. “There, there?”
At last Twilight giggled, sniffling and wiping her eyes. (“Heh heh. I don’t think patting your own head counts as being comforting.”)
“It was the best I could do,” Turing said, shrugging her metallic shoulders. She was relieved, however, that at least Twilight had momentarily stopped crying.
(“Don’t worry about me, Turing. I’ll be okay. Sorry for getting a little emotional.”)
“Don’t be sorry. Being emotional is something I envy about organic ponies.” She looked down at her brass hooves, holding one up, examining it idly. “Twilight Sparkle, I will miss you, but I believe that this is the best chance of you finding your home. I cannot say it with certainty, but I… I feel that you may find your way home someday. If anypony can do such a thing, then I am certain that it is you. After all, it was this universe’s Twilight Sparkle that allowed us to meet.”
Twilight smiled. (“I hope… No, I believe you’re right. With David’s help, I think one day I’ll find a way. And,”) she added, (“I have to wonder: if there’s another me in this universe, then maybe there’s another you back in mine!”)
Turing raised her head and tapped her chin. “Perhaps so.” Her ears twitched. “If that is the case, Twilight Sparkle, then please go and find her. If she is anything like me, then she will need you more than you may realize.”
Twilight nodded solemnly. (“You have my word.”)
“Ahem.”
Turing Test turned around and saw Spike standing in the doorway. “Um, Twilight… that is, our Twilight says she’s ready. Can you two come back to the lab?”
Turing nodded. Then she felt Twilight suddenly take over her voice to reply, “Turing Test, you go on without me; I’ll catch up later.”
Spike raised an eyebrow at that. “Uhhh…”
Twilight laughed and relinquished control of Turing’s voice. And yet the laugh continued.
Turing raised a hoof to her faceplate, chuckling demurely. Then she froze. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I… I laughed. So that’s what that feels like. How… how wonderful.”
Spike gave her a smile. “We’d better go, you two.”
As the little dragon went ahead, Turing followed, her hoofsteps slow and dragging, and her eyes downcast.
(“Turing? What’s wrong?”)
“I just realized,” she whispered, too quietly for Spike to hear, “that after you leave, I will never laugh again. Not like that.”
Twilight was quiet for a moment. Then she said, (“You know how you have faith that I’ll find my home? Well I have faith that one day you’ll be able to feel such things on your own. I don’t know how, but crazier things have happened… as you and I can both attest.”)
She saw as Turing’s gaze lifted. She felt her sadness ebb away and saw that she was picking up her hooves into a normal trot.
“Thank you. Now let’s get you home.”
***
Princess Twilight was glancing at several pages of spell notes as she levitated them before her. She frowned and set them down when she saw Turing Test enter behind Spike.
“We’ve got a problem.”
Turing tilted her head to the side. “What is it?”
“I’ve worked out how to cast the spell in a way that would be effective,” Princess Twilight explained, tapping the pages with her hoof for emphasis, “but it would require disentangling the other Twilight from you, Turing Test. As she becomes more and more integrated with your systems, it might be harder to separate her perfectly.”
Twilight spoke through Turing to respond. “In other words,” she said, “if you messed up, some of Turing’s data could be left in me, or some of mine in her. That could be pretty bad for both of us.”
Princess Twilight nodded. “Exactly. I do have a solution, though: if Turing were to cast the spell, she could pinpoint which parts of herself were Twilight and which were her own.”
Turing Test took a step back. “Princess Twilight, that may be unwise.” She glanced over at the pages. “My magic skills may have improved under your teaching, but such an advanced spell is beyond my capabilities.”
“I know, Turing,” Princess Twilight sighed, “but we’re running out of time. Me casting it would be an option, but the chances are very good that one could end up with holes in her memory while the other one ends up with memories and jumbled thoughts that aren’t her own, and those effects would be permanent.”
The room went silent as Turing stared down at the sheets of paper with the spell notes on them.
(“Hm…”) Twilight murmured. (“That’s a tough spell, but not impossible. If only… oh, I just got an idea! Turing, I’m borrowing your voice!”)
Twilight took control of Turing’s voice again and exclaimed “I think I know a way, Princess!”
“You do?” Princess Twilight cried.
“Well, what if I took over Turing’s systems and cast the spell--”
But Princess Twilight was already shaking her head. “No, no, that wouldn’t work,” she sighed. “Turing has to cast it because she has to remove you from herself. You wouldn’t be able to maintain the spell as it separated you from Turing.”
“I see,” Twilight said. “It has to be Turing Test… but if she and I are sharing abilities, then… I’ve got it!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Okay, listen carefully, Turing:
“I can scan and memorize this test perfectly in an instant. Then, if you tap into my mind and I go through the mental process of casting the spell, then you can learn how to cast it properly from me.”
Turing regained access to her voice and tapped her chin metallically. “That process may work, Twilight Sparkle, but accessing you might just speed up the merging process. If this plan fails, we may not get another chance, as we’ll be too entangled to separate.”
“Don’t worry, Turing. I think we’ve got a high probability of success!”
“How high?”
“67.64321%.” She grunted. “Ugh. Let’s hurry. I don’t want to get too used to talking like a robot.”
Princess Twilight dashed forward, placing her hooves on Turing’s shoulders. “N-now just wait a minute!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide and fearful. “This plan still sounds risky to me! What if… I mean, 67 and-so-on percent sounds nice and all, but there’s still a chance this could fail! There must be another way, you two!”
“I’m not certain there is, Princess Twilight.” “I’m not certain there is, Princess Twilight.”
Twilight and Spike gasped. Turing had spoken in both her own and Twilight’s voice at once in perfect unison. Turing’s synthetic voice and Twilight’s organic one were nearly indistinguishable from one another.
Turing lifted her leg, examining it as she moved it back and forth.
“Oh. We are… doing this together. The boundary between us is eroding.” “Oh. We are… doing this together. The boundary between us is eroding.”
Turing’s eyes constricted as she stared at Princess Twilight.
“I don’t think we have any choice now. We must begin immediately.” “I don’t think we have any choice now. We must begin immediately.”
Princess Twilight took a deep breath. “Okay,” she whispered. “Just… be careful, you two.”
“Understood.” “Understood.”
Princess Twilight went to the mirror and the machinery surrounding it. She pulled some switches and twisted the knobs, carefully examining the readings to make sure everything was ready.
“Okay!” she shouted over the din of the rumbling of machinery and the hum of electrical and magical energies flowing around them. “There’s no more time to waste! Do it now!”
Turing switched to U-Mode and used her magic to flip through the spell pages, processing and memorizing them in moments. The information and procedure flowed into Twilight’s mind. The rush of information and all the power of Turing’s processors was at her command. She knew just what to do.
“Beginning synchronization. Access to pony.exe granted. Uploading data and initiating procedure in 3… 2… 1…” “Beginning synchronization. Access to pony.exe granted. Uploading data and initiating procedure in 3… 2… 1…”
The electrical hum that Turing Test normally emitted became a high-pitched whine and then, suddenly, Turing’s eyes went dark and her head dropped, as though she’d suddenly shut down.
“Turing!” Princess Twilight and Spike screamed.
Spike gulped. “What happened, Twilight?” he asked. “Was that supposed to happen?”
Twilight held her hooves over her mouth. “I don’t know, Spike,” she whispered.
At first, there was nothing but blackness. But slowly her vision began to clear. Blobs and streams of color and light encircled her. And before her, something still and unmoving and… lavender?
“Twilight… Sparkle?” she whispered.
The lavender thing moved toward her. “Yes, Turing,” she said, coalescing into a clear image. “So… it’s nice to meet you face to face.”
Turing glanced all around her. They were in a cavernous place with streams of strange symbols rushing all around her. And though she had never been here, Turing felt like she knew what the place was. Every flash of light and color was something she knew.
“This place is…”
“Your mind, Turing,” Twilight said, smiling warmly at her. “This is where I’ve been. We had to divert so much power to this, we had to shut down almost all your other systems except for your lower cognitive function and your memory. In a way, you could say that we’re in your subconscious mind right now.”
Turing Test stepped forward, her hooves strangely landing on nothing and making no sound, yet finding purchase anyway. She stopped just short of Twilight and held out her hoof gingerly, slowly reaching it toward Twilight.
She gave a start as Twilight placed her hoof against Turing’s. It was solid.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Affirmative,” she replied. “Also…”
“Also?”
“...You look odd without wings, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight giggled. “I think the other me looks weird with them!” She paused, rubbing her chin. “Then again, maybe someday I’ll have a pair of my own. Maybe I should get used to the idea.”
The two both sat in silence for a moment, neither one wanting to say what they both knew they needed to say.
“We need to cast the spell now.” “We need to cast the spell now.”
They both jerked their heads up, laughing at how they’d said the same thing again, only this time it had been unintentional.
“Have a safe trip, Twilight Sparkle,” Turing whispered.
Twilight blinked back tears. “Goodbye, Turing Test.”
With that, Twilight’s horn began to glow, and an aura of magic engulfed the two of them. In that flow of magic and data, for just a moment, the unicorn and the robot vanished, co-mingling as the one opened herself to the other.
As the bright aura of magic burst forth, a new voice spoke.
“Ah. This is what we would have been…”
Back in the lab, Twilight and Spike watched as Turing’s eyes lit up and she slowly raised her head. But as she did so, a warm, violet field of magic spread from the tips of her hooves up to the tips of her metallic ears and horn. She began to levitate off the floor and raised her head.
“Turing? Twilight?” Princess Twilight whispered, her throat going dry.
Turing Test let out a sound that could either have been a sigh of relief or a moan of pain. She let out the prolonged sound as the magic aura drifted from her horn to coalesce into a single point. Gradually, it regressed from her hooves, exposing the metal underneath, receding upwards to her horn until it was completely gone. The sound she was making died away and she gently descended back to the floor.
The ball of magic in the air changed shape. For a moment, it took a familiar shape: that of a unicorn with a straight, flowing mane. Though it was only a shape, Princess Twilight was certain she saw it smile.
Then, without another word or action, the magical energy shot like a bolt for the swirling vortex of the mirror. It plunged inside and the vortex immediately dissipated, the machinery all around them grinding to a halt and shutting down.
In the lingering silence in the lab, Twilight and Spike paused a moment before going over to Turing Test.
“Turing?” Twilight asked. “That… that is you, isn’t it?”
Turing slowly turned to face her. “Affirmative. I am myself.” She paused, then added, “All of myself.”
“Oh thank goodness!” Twilight cried, throwing her forelegs around Turing.
Spike joined in the hug. “So, uh,” he cautiously began, “that thing we just saw… was that… the other Twilight?”
“Correct,” Turing replied. She gently broke from the hug and went to the mirror, placing her hoof on the still glass. “She has gone home. Or, rather, she has gone back to where she came from.”
***
David continued staring at his ceiling from where he lay on his mattress. After practically throwing Ron out of the house (he’d been so livid he was honestly surprised that he hadn’t just killed the smirking bastard), he’d done every test and search he could think of to try and find or recover pony.exe and, more importantly, Twilight. Hours had gone by. He’d even turned his internet back on in an attempt to see if there was some way to undo the damage.
But there was nothing. She was gone.
He shut his eyes, rubbing his face. Yeah, she was gone, and there was no way to get her back, and as mad as he was at Ron, he couldn’t really pretend that it wasn’t his own fault. He’d never find out how she’d gotten there in the first place, what she really was, let alone get her back home.
Idiot. She trusted you to help her, and what did you do? he asked himself. You got her deleted. She was your friend, she asked for your help and you just--
The lights in his room flickered. Electricity crackled over his computer and the monitor came to life with a bright, purple glow.
He sat bolt upright, his jaw dropping open as the machine’s cooling fan revved up momentarily before slowing down to its usual light whirring.
David swallowed hard as the lights came back on.
“David?”
As soon as he heard that voice come through his speakers, he jumped up, plugged in his headphones and turned his desktop’s microphone back on.
“Twilight?!”
“Oh thank goodness, it’s you!”
A window came up and David saw the now-familiar face of his equine friend staring back at him. She looked a little disheveled, but none the worse.
“Jesus, Twilight,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Where have you been?!”
She held a hoof over her mouth and chuckled, looking away mischievously. “Well, it’s not so much where I’ve been, but who I’ve been,” she said slyly. “Boy, have I got a story for you…”
***
It was the next day and Princess Twilight was making her way through the castle. She passed by an open door and saw that Turing Test was in the sitting room, standing by a bookshelf. She was levitating something up to her face, but Twilight couldn’t see what it was, so she entered.
“Turing Test?” she asked. “What have you got there?”
Turing glanced over her shoulder and then turned to face her, showing the object in question to her. Twilight saw it was a framed photograph of herself and Twilight.
“Oh, you’re looking at this picture of the two of us?” Twilight asked, smiling at her mechanical friend. “That’s nice.”
“I miss you.”
Twilight blinked, scrunching her face. “Uh, you can’t really miss me if I’m right here, Turing.”
Turing shook her head. “I do not mean the you that is here. I refer to--”
“Oh!” Twilight said, her eyes widening. “Of course, you mean the other Twilight.”
Turing nodded at that, then glanced back at the picture. “It was confusing and aggravating at times and had the potential for detrimental consequences, both for the other Twilight and myself. Furthermore, I understand that returning her to the place she came from will give her the best chance to reach her own version of Equestria. However…”
Twilight smiled. “Even if it was difficult, you still liked being with her, in the end.”
Turing nodded. “Correct. The other Twilight was not you. However, she shared many of your traits that I find admirable.”
The mechanical mare put the picture back on the bookshelf. To Twilight’s surprise, she came over and embraced her.
“I suppose I will take comfort in knowing that you and I will always be friends, regardless of which world you originate from.”
Twilight smiled and patted her on the back. After a few moments, they parted and went back inside the castle. They would both go forward on their journey, knowing that somewhere, across time and space, another friend of theirs was going forward as well.
