Chapter 01
Four knocks.
“Where is the whitewasher?” a pony said, peeking out from behind the door, cowl obscuring her features.
Thom glanced around, then spoke. “The sauce is in the laundry.”
The pony nodded, opening the door. It creaked open, revealing a musty chamber in such high resolution the screen looked like a window to another world. Thom leaned forward in his chair, studying the other ponies in the room.
A quick sweep of his gaze and he had an estimate of forty-odd ponies. Like his own avatar, they all had on heavy cloaks that obscured the face. Oddly, many wore cloaks that were brightly-colored.
He turned his attention to the front of the room, his pony’s footsteps—hoofsteps?—reaching his ears as clearly as if he was there himself. He experimentally turned his head, listening to the sound fade out before catching up with the new position of his ears.
The PonyPads were highly advanced. Even a regular fourteen-year-old would know that.
Thom wasn’t.
A unicorn stood on top of a large, flat wooden crate, managing to look imposing even with the cramped bookshelves pressing in from all sides. Two other ponies managed to hold serene expressions behind her, though how they did that through their cloaks and the massive amount of dust, Thom had no idea. And speaking of dust...Thom’s pony visibly bit back a sneeze.
Even though they were holding the meeting in a completely random library, the place still held the atmosphere of a church, or a temple. Sunlight streamed through the plain glass windows set into the ceiling, revealing the dust dancing in its rays. The ponies stood out of the light, the rest of the room’s darkness seeming even more enveloping by contrast.
Thom had a hard time figuring out whether Celestia knew about these gatherings or not. Well, obviously she knew—they were playing on her servers. Maybe she just wasn’t paying attention?
That didn’t seem right either. But how else could this be happening? The AI could easily keep everyone who detested her separate from each other, surrounded only by fawning sycophants. And yet she didn’t. The entire affair was confusing. Thom noted his confusion and returned his attention to the screen.
The unicorn was about to begin speaking.
“I can’t hide behind lies and fancy speeches. I’m not Celestia. Today I’m here before you to talk in the plainest language, to lay out the barest facts.”
She threw back her cowl and stepped forward, right into a beam of sunlight that almost looked like its position had been planned. Muted gasps from the rest of the room accompanied the gesture. Bright purple fur shone in the light, highlighting an orange mane and silvery eyes.
“And just as I will not hide the truth, I will not hide myself.”
This is new.
Maybe they were actually going to do something.
About time, too, Thom thought. His contract expired in three days, and if he didn’t find anything by then, he might not get another deal at the same company. And he definitely wanted another deal—Dennis & Co’s paid handsomely.
“You might be wondering if the time has come for action. If the time has come for us to strike directly against Celestia,” she said.
Oh well. She’d seemed like she understood the situation at first, but then again, first appearances could be deceiving.
“If you are, I’m sorry. It can’t be done.”
A chorus of shocked gasps and whispers from around the room filled his ears. Well she knew how to make a statement, he’d give her that.
“At least, not directly.” Her voice cut through the whispers, silencing the crowd of cloaked figures. They waited expectantly.
She turned on the box, looking up toward a skylight. “Not from here. Not from inside. She made this world. We only exist here because she lets us. We need to act in the real world. To that end, I have set up a chat channel on the web, free of Celestia’s presence. We have prepared cards with the address on them. Please write it down in real life so it doesn’t get lost.”
The figures behind her bent down and picked up two fruit baskets, full of paper slips and began walking around the room, handing them out.
Celestia could easily change the web addresses on each one.
A basket was thrust in front of him. He blinked and made a small hand motion toward it. The PonyPad interpreted the movement, and his character took a slip with its magic and placed it in his saddlebags.
He smiled.
If Celestia changed the addresses so it didn't lead anywhere, he would finally have concrete evidence against her.
“Think we’ll actually be able to do anything there?” A disgruntled voice came from his left. Thom’s pony—Veridian Star—turned, meeting the bright green eyes of another pony who’s cowl was pushed up slightly, revealing part of his face.
“Maybe,” Thom said. “It depends.”
“On?”
“On if we move before she gets far enough.”
The pony eyed Veridian as if sizing him up. “Most of the others here, they don’t get it. They think we can fight her on her own turf.”
Thom nodded, Veridian copying the movement.
“But you...you know what the chances are.”
“Infinitesimal,” Thom whispered. He was doing this for money. But after a while...well. He’d been studying. And if there was some little quirk in the AI’s code, some little integer that, once it got large enough, switched to negative…
It could legitimately be a threat to the entire earth.
“Name’s Jake,” the stallion said abruptly, sticking out a foreleg coated in brown fur. Veridian returned the gesture, tapping his hoof to the other pony’s. “I’ll be on this new chat thing the boss is cooking up. You?”
“Thom,” he returned. “Spelled like Thomas, but without the last two letters.”
They gave each other a nod. Like they were part of a group.
Well. He was, technically. Because of the job. No other reason.
No other reason?
He reconsidered. No. Other reason. He was...actually attached to these people in pony form.
Alarm bells rang in his head.
Why could he—and everyone else—say their names without censoring here, unlike every other place in Equestria he’d been to? Why did people keep mentioning evidence that Celestia was suppressing information, or perpetuating something illegal, and then have the evidence vanish because Celestia was just that powerful? Why had he been strung along time and again until he actually formed ties with these people?
A chill swept through him. His breaths came faster and he felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead. He quickly wiped it off.
Veridian copied the action.
The PonyPad had a facecam.
He shut it off with fumbling fingers, now breathing heavily.
Wait.
In. Out. In. Out.
There. He felt much calmer, now.
Had Celestia made up an entire organization just for him? Full of digital ponies, fakes who would lead him on?
No. No, that was impossible. Not because it was too hard to believe, but because it was actually impossible. He’d found that group on the first day he’d begun searching for it on the PonyPad. Celestia wouldn’t have been able to gather enough data about him from just his surroundings, expressions, and the things he’d said. He’d been extremely careful.
He relaxed into his chair, plopping the PonyPad on the floor beside him.
The stress of being so close to the deadline must be getting to him. Besides, if she was that devious, Celestia would never give him a way to contact other people that was out of her control. Thom chuckled to himself and got up. He padded across the room on the soft green carpet, opening the door to his bedroom and closing it behind him. It squeaked.
He sat down in front of his computer and drew the chair in, jiggling the mouse. He’d join the chat channel, see if it was legit. If it wasn’t, well, his job was done. If it was, it was proof that Celestia didn’t have control of the internet. Not that he needed proof.
He put in the URL and watched the logo in the middle of the screen resolve itself into a chatroom. It only had one comment by someone called Yamen.
Hello? Is this the right place?
Oh. Right. The meeting hadn’t ended yet. He’d turned off the PonyPad.
At least one other person had already joined.
Then he twitched his head, searching the top right corner of his screen.
Had there been…? No.
But for the briefest second, he could’ve sworn he’d seen Pinkie Pie dancing beyond the rightmost edge of the browser window.