Vinyl Scratch goes to make a pitch to Princess Celestia, to convince her to accept a technology that already exists.
Vinyl Scratch accidentally discovers a technology that already exists, but understanding how it works leads to a greater understanding of the Horrendous Hypothesis.
The Ponyville train station was a happening place to be, for a train station. More than just a transportation hub, it was now a community hangout, a destination that one went to. Hungry? The cafe was popular. Bored? The arcade promised hours of fun. In need of a book, a magazine, or a newspaper? There was a rather large bookstore that made a fortune selling to travellers on the train. This was the place to be, but Vinyl Scratch wasn’t here for pleasure, no.
She was here on business.
Technically, she was here to leave on business.
The pale, off-yellowish-white mare sat atop a small, sticker-covered travel trunk, her head bobbing to a rhythm that only she could hear. There was a band nearby, a group of street performers that might have thought that Vinyl was deep into their groove, but the truth of the matter was that she was lost in her own world at the moment. Such was the way of things.
A colt—also pale—emerged from a door, dutifully carrying two steaming disposable cups of tea. He was a bit gawky and appeared to be suffering horrendously from a growth spurt that had left him hideously deformed—at least, this is what he would tell you if you asked him. As for what others thought? If asked, they might say he was a bit too long in the hind legs perhaps, but time and patience would sort that out soon enough.
When the colt approached, bearing tea, Vinyl said, “Won’t be long until your birthday.”
“‘Bout three weeks,” the colt replied. “I’ll be eight.”
Vinyl, who knew her apprentice a little too well, reached into his saddlebags with her magic, felt around, and watched as the colt blushed. He was busted and he knew it. Grinning, she pulled a magazine wrapped in plain brown paper from his saddlebags, held it up, and waved it in front of his face. His blush intensified and she thought he might look a little sweaty for such a cool spring day.
“So, Mister I’m So Grown Up, what did you bring me to look at and how is it that you manage to convince the shopkeep to sell these to you? Wait, wait, I already know. Nevermind. You’re a scamp for doing that, Sumac. What would your mother, Lemon Hearts have to say?”
“Um…” Sumac gulped, but didn’t seem to have anything else to say in his own defense.
Peeling back the crinkly brown paper, Vinyl was unconcerned what other ponies on the platform might think and she had herself a good look at her apprentice’s lurid reading material. “Oooh, classy, Mare Monthly. A distinguished publication for discriminating lesbians and stallions of fine taste. And it’s right there in saucy red letters so you know it’s truth in advertising.”
Of course, Vinyl opened the magazine, right there in public, and had herself a good look. She began flipping through the pages, curious, and the contents of the pages could be seen reflected in the lenses of her glasses. Skipping ahead, she went right for the centerfold and had herself a look. After a few seconds, an eyebrow raised.
“This is pretty softcore, Sumac.” Vinyl found herself quite surprised by what she had said, and even more surprised by her own conclusion. “It’s mostly just suggestive snuggling. I suppose it can’t hurt, but keep it tucked away and out of sight.” With nothing else to say, she slipped the brown paper wrapper back into place and slipped the softcore skin rag back into Sumac’s saddlebags.
“Uh, thanks, I guess?” Sumac held out a steaming cup of tea for Vinyl.
“I might want to look at that later,” Vinyl said whilst taking the tea from her apprentice. “Try not to get anything stuck on the pages, Squirt.”
At this, Sumac very nearly dropped his own cup of tea.
“Relax, Sumac. You know I’m on your side. I’m just giving you a little guff, that’s all. Worried about facing Princess Celestia?”
“A little.” The colt nodded, recovered himself, and then took a cautious sip of tea.
“I am too.” Vinyl too, tried some of her tea as well, and smacked her lips in appreciation of the spicy chai. “You and I have been working on this for almost a year now, Sumac. Can you believe that? And we’ve expanded so much upon your great hypothesis. You’re about to turn eight and already you’ve gained quite a bit of scientific credibility. As your master, I’m proud.”
“Thanks!” Halfway through the word, Sumac’s voice cracked and rose two octaves or so.
At the moment, Vinyl had her own fears and worries, but she was playing it cool. They had a good presentation—a very good presentation—and Vinyl was confident that the new technology from the other side of the mirror would get Princess Celestia’s approval. As it was, the technology in question was already present in Equestria, though nobody had really cottoned onto it until she and her apprentice had begun their thorough investigation.
“We don’t have the best track record,” Sumac said after a moment of silence.
“I don’t know what you mean, my most faithful apprentice.” Licking the chai foam from her upper lip, Vinyl turned her attention towards the two ponies being a little too watchful of Sumac. She didn’t recognise them, and because of this, she didn’t trust them.
“We, uh, took over the minds of chickens and we made everypony in Ponyville dance.”
“Bah!” Vinyl made a dismissive wave with her hoof. “Teensy weensy mistakes were made. We got rid of the infestation of bugs, didn’t we?”
“Well, yes…” Sumac nodded. “But, um—”
“And we mind-controlled those chickens. That was awesome.” Of course, Vinyl did not make further mention that they had also mind-controlled most of the town of Ponyville and caused conga line traffic jams throughout the city.
“The bass projector caused earthquakes—”
“Only minor ones! Seismic disturbances! Maud specifically called them ‘seismic disturbances!’ Sumac, you gotta stop being so hung up on our little setbacks. You’re a real buzzkill, you know that?” Reaching out, Vinyl gave her apprentice a nudge of encouragement while keeping her watchful eyes on the far too curious strangers.
“Vinyl, we’re on a watchlist—”
“Just wait until they see the blamethrower, Sumac. Our good names will be cleared and Twilight will come around and see reason. It still needs some tweaking before we do a public demonstration. Up for a bit of tinkering this weekend?”
“Sure!” the colt blurted out with far too much eagerness. “Oh, Vinyl, I’ve had an idea for a way to shift perspectives from one pony to another. It would be a touch-based device. We could make it from a stick.”
“A perspective shift stick?” Intrigued, Vinyl’s imagination began to go wild with the possibilities. “Tell me more when we’re on the train, Sumac. It’ll be a good thing to talk about and pass the time.” Her growing discomfort was almost too much to bear and she did not like the way the two strangers were just staring at Sumac.
The train couldn’t come soon enough.
It still felt like winter in Canterlot, as evidenced by the faint flurries of snow that came down in sporadic bursts. Vinyl shivered and was thankful that she had remembered warm clothing. Wrapped in a heavy black woollen cloak, Vinyl held a perfect awareness for how deliciously evil she looked, and with Sumac also wearing a matching cloak, they made for quite a pair. It was funny, really it was, how ponies just assumed that unicorns wearing black cloaks were somehow evil, and Vinyl delighted in every moment of it. It was the perfect joke because of how ponies just went along with it.
Levitating her travel trunk behind her, Vinyl set off through the familiar streets of Canterlot, mindful of the many dangers. Foalnappers were a worry, more ponies knew about Sumac’s sorcery now, and things worse than ponies, such as the army of rats that lurked beneath Canterlot, burrowing through the Canterhorn.
“Stay close, Sumac. Do not stray from my side.”
“Yeah, of course. I know the rules.”
The colt moved a little closer and Vinyl felt him brush up against her, which left her filled with a strange sensation of relief. She missed her own son, Alto; she felt a keen sense of longing for him, but also treasured these moments when she and her apprentice could spend a little time together.
“The night is ours, Sumac. We’ll stow our gear in Canterlot Castle and then we’re free to do whatever, just so long as we’re up bright and early for our presentation tomorrow. Any ideas?”
“The planetarium at the Canterlot Royal Observatory?”
That was an exceptional idea, Vinyl thought. Alto was the quiet, introverted sort that truly loved places like the observatories, but only when they were quiet, and he was not at all fond of loud, noisy situations, nor crowds. Thinking about it made Vinyl feel a little sad, because she and her son didn’t have a lot in common. Alto was very much like his mother—and his father. Vinyl didn’t need much in common to love him though, but she did wish that she understood him better.
Perhaps Sumac’s idea for a perspective shift stick would help.
Canterlot Castle was full of hustle and bustle. Visiting dignitaries from Istanbull, Windia, and Mustangia were all staying here at the moment. Various entourages from around the world now packed the halls, chatting with one another, and Vinyl realised how lucky she was to get some of Princess Celestia’s precious time.
She and Sumac were given a small, but pleasant room, and there were two beds, a relief. The trunk was stored away and Vinyl was having a look around while Sumac pronked on the bed. This room was strange to her; she had been here many times, but had never stayed in the same room twice. What a strange room it was too, with its trapezoidal shape. Both windows were pure illusion and Vinyl, being the impish pony she was, just had to mess with them. Before she left, she would have to make certain that the day-night cycles on the windows were reversed, so day would show at night and night would show during the day.
It was good to get practice with illusion; after all, it was what powered her voice.
“What are we gonna eat?” Sumac asked, and the colt sounded quite whiny. “And when?”
“Burro food?” Vinyl suggested and the look on Sumac’s face told her everything she needed to know. “Burro food it is, then. Tamale Grande has that all you can eat buffet—”
“Can we go now? Sumac begged and he turned the full force of his pleading stare upon Vinyl, who recoiled from the sight.
“Sure, Sumac, but try not to die before we get there, okay?”
Vinyl almost felt bad for bringing a hungry colt to an all you could eat buffet—almost. At the moment, Sumac was tearing through about a dozen or so poblano peppers stuffed with cheese and wheat-meat. How the colt could eat so much but stay so skinny was a mystery to Vinyl, who envied him. She didn’t have to watch her own figure very much—just casting a lot of magic was enough to keep her trim—but as a mare, she always worried just a little. Octavia had a type, and for the most part, Vinyl was that type, but the worry was always present.
“Sumac, do you have your facts lined up?” Vinyl asked while he crammed a whole stuffed pepper into his maw. “Princess Celestia is probably going to go right for the throat. She’ll do it to see if I’m teaching you what you need to know. I’m a graduate from her school, so she’s going to come down harder on the both of us because of that.”
Dribbling sour cream and prickly pear salsa down his chin, the colt nodded.
“This is a major leap forwards.” Vinyl’s fork hovered over her food and she was forced to pause for a moment. “Somepony opened up an unauthorised portal and brought unauthorised artifacts from the other side through. Wondrous stuff, Sumac. Maybe someday, we’ll be trusted with more of it, but for now I am happy with our project and how it turned out. Just think, Sumac… if we can convince Celestia that this technology is safe, just think about what it will do for Equestria… the world. It makes my cutie mark tingle just thinking about it.”
Sumac’s mouth was empty only long enough to say a few terse words. “What do you think a ‘Volterex’ is, Vinyl?”
“Probably the brand name, Sumac. It’s weird that we can read it. Daring Do says it is a seeded language, one that happens on a multitude of worlds.” Licking her lips, Vinyl stabbed a bite of gravy-drenched tamale with her fork. “Volterex might be the name of the inventor, perhaps.”
“He sounds like a unicorn,” Sumac said between bites.
At this, Vinyl laughed because she knew that the dominant species of the other world were mostly hairless simian descendants. They made wonderful music—she knew because she owned a bunch of it—and had significant technological advancement. Distracted, she watched as her companion devoured his food and took an absent-minded bite.
After chewing and swallowing, she said, “Sumac, this is going to be like the introduction of the microwave and the vacuum cleaner. And we had a part in it. We’ll be remembered.”
“Wait…”—Sumac swallowed and his eyes went wide behind his spectacles—“I was told that a pony invented those things.”
“Yes, Sumac, we’ll be remembered as inventors too. That’s the way it is. Those things were introduced, Sumac. They were smuggled over. Or maybe not. Sometimes, rips in reality happen and things just fall through from other whens and wheres. Princess Celestia keeps tight controls over what is allowed, and has agents that go out to collect artifacts when rips and tears in reality are sensed. Daring Do, Tarnish, Maud, and myself had to go overseas and retrieve an artifact. I have no idea what it is, but maybe someday it’ll be figured out.”
Sumac almost seemed to vibrate in his chair. “Maybe, someday, we’ll figure it out!”
A thousand or more stars twinkled overhead and none of them were real. Trippy music played, offering a head-expanding soundtrack for the galactic voyage, and two black-cloaked unicorns craned their heads upwards, one larger, one smaller. The illusion of zooming through space was powerful, spellbinding, even.
It was cold in the planetarium, cold enough to see one’s breath, and Vinyl pulled Sumac closer to her while also pulling her cloak tighter around her. Vinyl wished that Alto could enjoy shows like this one, but between the crowd and the loud music, poor Alto would be quite distressed. At least she had Sumac, and for this, Vinyl was grateful. Octavia would come to view the planetarium, but only on nights when they played orchestral music, which was fine, really it was, but something about careening through the galaxy demanded thunderous guitar riffs and pounding drums.
Vinyl considered her apprentice and all of the ways that she influenced him. His musical preferences were almost all her doing. From her, he had gained a wealth of dangerous magical information, she had schooled him in her own questionable approach to magic, which relied on emotion over raw concentration. Princess Celestia frowned upon this approach, but allowed it; Vinyl was free to continue her studies and teach her apprentice. Sumac was a volatile, emotional sort, which made many believe that her approach was reckless, even dangerous, but Vinyl knew that Sumac had far better control over how he expended his emotions than most foals his age.
Vinyl Scratch never gave much thought to destiny; that is to say, until of course she did and was then overwhelmed by it. For Vinyl, thoughts of destiny were very much like a heavy brick or one of Octavia’s extra saucy kisses; when one of these things collided with her skull, she was in trouble, for certain. Overall, she rather liked Octavia’s saucy kisses, but heavy bricks? Not so much. When the ol’ grey mare was particularly worked up and in a mood, there was a thing she did with her tongue where she’d trace out the shape of her cutie mark on Vinyl’s tongue, or the roof of her mouth, and when that happened Vinyl knew it was time to play upon the organ so that Octavia could clear her pipes.
Standing before a mirror, Vinyl checked over her appearance and made adjustments to her suit jacket, a thoroughly modern bit of fashion. The fabric was piano black, so she had paired it with a piano tie, and she thought that she looked smashing. Peering into the mirror, she checked herself over, turned around a few times, and after seeing how snazzy her reflection looked, Vinyl decided that she was fine.
Of course, some snooty pony might faint if they saw her in a stallion’s suit jacket, but that was their problem, not hers. Stallions just had better looking clothing. Oh sure, dresses were fine, gowns could be pleasant, but frilly stuff was often itchy and uncomfortable because it was made for looks, not comfort. The powder-blue shirt was a good touch, she thought to herself, and she took an extra moment to adjust the knot of her tie.
“I can’t tie my tie… I can’t.” Her colt companions voice was a panicked whine that got her attention. “No matter what I do, I can never seem to get the hang of this.”
Pulling herself away from her reflection, Vinyl grabbed Sumac, held him still, and with a few flicks of her telekinesis, she tied his tie. Afterwards, she hauled him closer and had a better look at his tie. Squinting, she had to lean in closer to get a better look at the white on black pattern, and because the print was so impossibly tiny, she was almost touching Sumac when she could begin to make something out. There were tiny white letters that were very, very difficult to discern, and Vinyl had to strain to see them.
⇉Ifyoucanreadthisrightnowyouareinmypersonalspace⇇
When she realised what it said, Vinyl laughed and then retreated.
“Okay,” Vinyl said to Sumac, “who was the clever one that bought you that tie? Twinkleshine?”
Shaking his head from side to side, the colt grinned. “It was Rainbow Dash.”
“Oh.” At this, Vinyl was surprised. “Really? I wonder what made her do that.”
“Rainbow feels bad when she’s gone for too long so she buys me stuff to appease her guilt.” Sumac shuffled on his hooves and Vinyl began removing the wrinkles in his dark green tweed jacket, which had little specks of orange, yellow, and pale green in the weave. “She did it for Scootaloo too, and all of the other foals she plays big sister to. I guess it is just her thing.”
“Thing?” One of Vinyl’s eyebrows arched.
“Yeah. Her thing. Her approach to life. I dunno.” Mid-sentence, Sumac shrugged.
“Tarnish wears tweed too.” Leaning in, Vinyl inhaled and drew in the smell of the fabric, which was familiar to her. “His jackets have corduroy in the high stress areas. Tweed helps Tarnish pull off the unassuming professor look.” Jaw firming, she tugged on Sumac’s lapels to straighten them, and then began to smooth the collar of his clean white shirt.
The black and white tie really didn’t go with the dark forest green tweed but Vinyl didn’t have the heart to say anything. Princess Celestia might notice though, and who knew what she might do. Sumac’s white shirt was also a little plain, and something about it didn’t quite sit well with his beige features. For whatever reason, Sumac was trusted and allowed to pick his own clothing, though Vinyl wished his mothers would have helped him find something that was a better match.
Leveling her gaze, Vinyl studied Sumac, taking every inch of him in. He looked fine, more or less, but something about him caused wrinkles to appear like magic. While she continued to try and sort Sumac out, Vinyl realised that she had something in common with her dear friend, Rainbow Dash: the company of foals was prefered over that of most adults. Over the years, her patience for other ponies had diminished, and considerably so.
Most grownups lacked curiousity, they did not ask many questions, and had hardly any sense of wonder of the world around them. Vinyl had seen things, amazing things, awful things, and she had been on a great many adventures. Typical adults did not go on adventures, no. They settled in, did their jobs, and barely noticed the world around them while sticking to their routine.
But not foals.
Foals were imaginative, they played pretend, and had adventures. Sumac was ready to break routine at the drop of a pith helmet. Smoothing out his unruly mane, Vinyl smiled, then thought about how precious these years were, and how short they would feel in hindsight. Too short, no doubt. Would he grow to be boring? She hoped not, it was the worst fate she could think of, and she knew that it was her job to make sure that he grew up to be interesting. A wizard should do that for their apprentice.
“Ready, Sumac?”
“Yeah, but I kinda feel like throwing up,” the colt replied.
“It’ll pass,” Vinyl said, offering assurance. “Let’s go do our thing.”
Princess Celestia was a tall, imposing figure, flanked by her ever present assistant Raven. Curiously, the princess was not wearing her crown, her shoes, or her regalia, which threw poor Vinyl off. The replacements for these items, these vestments of state, where really quite peculiar to behold. Around her stately, noble neck was a choker made from strung-together and dyed macaroni noodles—which was staining her pelt. Upon her regal head was a newspaper folded into an admiral’s hat, but those same folds also made a paper boat, as Vinyl recalled. The hat was covered in globs of glue, glitter, and long strands of hair no doubt torn from tender locations.
“Did you lose a bet?” Sumac asked while peering up at the regal monarch.
It was all Vinyl could do not to facehoof.
The princess’ reply was a calm, steady, measured response. “Not yet, young Master Sumac.” She cleared her throat, a polite, dignified sound, and then continued, “My foals made replacements, as you can see. Oh, not just for me, but for their father as well. Prince Gosling, being the bold sort, put his on and immediately began to parade around to show them off.”
“And you didn’t?” Sumac spoke with the bravery that only foals had.
“Alas, not right away, no, I didn’t. I tried being polite and diplomatic about the issue, but Prince Gosling quickly escalated the situation by making a statement that I ‘lacked the stones’ and didn’t have the guts to be seen doing my public duties wearing the finery my beloved offspring so lovingly crafted for me. So, here I am. Behold your princess in all of her splendiferous beauty. Am I not majestic as the dawn?”
Tilting his head off to one side, Sumac studied the enormous mare for a few seconds before responding, “You look ridiculous.”
“Your honesty and your candor are duly noted, young Master Sumac.”
Pulling the trunk around, Vinyl opened it up, cleared her throat, pulled out some of the contents of the trunk, closed the lid, and then put those contents up on display. For some reason, she was a little nervous, but couldn’t say why. Princess Celestia’s mood was unknown, unreadable, which for some reason cast a shadow of doubt upon everything. The princess was supposed to be a reliable constant, eternal, unchanging. As regular as the sunrise, as the old expression went.
It was almost as if Vinyl was a filly again and was back in school. Not just any filly either, but one of the weird ones, a strange one, a fact made worse by the fact that she was mute and spoke by writing stuff out on a tiny chalkboard. Her voice—though thoroughly artificial—was a luxury. Hard data, the good stuff, was plunked down on top of the trunk with a thump and then Vinyl turned to face the princess, who stood patiently waiting.
Saying nothing, Raven turned on a waiting camera and then flicked on a nearby microphone. Vinyl felt a prickle of fear that crept up the back of her neck. It seemed as though the pitch was going to be archived. Of course it was. The monarchy was now obsessed with getting everything on film for the historical record. Princess Celestia had even given birth on film—quite an impressive feat, really.
There were no chairs in this room, no places to sit, no furniture, not much of anything. No distractions, other than the camera and some of the recording equipment. Cocking her head off to one side, Vinyl smiled her best smile and gathered what remained of her courage. Her tie felt too tight and her collar doubly so. Why had she worn a suit jacket and tie again?
“Princess Celestia, today I am here to introduce you to the radio, or perhaps I should say make a formal introduction, because the radio has been here for quite a while now. We just haven’t noticed—”
“How have we not noticed?” Princess Celestia asked, interrupting.
Vinyl’s carefully rehearsed opener was now undone and she scrambled to recover. “Well, as I was starting to say, as a professional and accredited engineer, a graduate of your school, I have some understanding and some insight into the introduction of new technology into Equestria, and the rigourous means that which everything must be tested to determine if it is safe.”
“You said that we haven’t noticed. Has it been here this whole time? If so, how did we fail to notice?” The princess’ voice was a stern, unwavering deadpan. “Has there been a lapse in procedural protocols?”
Yep, it had gone off the rails. It was like following Tarnish after one of his brilliant, cunning plans—cunning plans that always went spectacularly wrong, without fail. For all parties involved, typically. Vinyl let out a worried little huff, followed by a snort. This wasn’t supposed to be improvised, this was supposed to be an orderly by-the-book presentation. Sumac was now frozen in terror, he had gone stiff, rigid, he was unmoving and unresponsive. He looked like Vinyl felt.
“I do not want a repeat of the microwave incident.” Princess Celestia revealed no emotion, no feeling, no anything. “That was careless and sloppy. The unicorn researcher who approved that tech failed to test it around other tribes, and microwave instant ovens robbing pegasus ponies in nearby proximity of their flight abilities was a gross, unforgivable oversight.”
“Your Majesty,” Vinyl began, and she chose her words with great care. “Ponies only care that something works, and have very little interest for how it works. Radio exists in Equestria, and has for a very long time. Wireless microphones operate with radio, we’ve just never noticed. We’ve mimicked the technology and then used it with no understanding of it.”
At this, Princess Celestia frowned so hard that it made Sumac whimper.
Yes, Vinyl had revealed oversight, an error that had been made, but she was certain that she could recover. She just had to keep her cool and talk her way out of this somehow, sort of like the time when Alto Clef had come into the bedroom to find she and Octavia in the throes of passion; that had not been the time to panic and this wasn’t either.
“Quite a number of things operate on radio principles and I’ve only recently gained an understanding of them. Sumac and I have been hard at work for almost a year now, conducting experiments and careful trials. It has lead us to some surprising conclusions, such as the fact that Terra Prime has always had radio.”
“Explain.” The deadpan command was direct and blunt, a verbal brick.
“Unicorns are radios.”
The manner in which Princess Celestia’s eyes narrowed were terrifying and some great blazing inner-light could be seen within them. Vinyl waited, saying nothing, unsure if the princess had something to say. Raven wrote something down and then cast a spell on the microphone, which left it glowing. She did the same for the motion picture camera and Vinyl, distracted, wondered what the spells were for.
“Unicorns are radios?” The alabaster behemoth’s words were slow and uncertainty could be heard, a rare thing to be observed from Princess Celestia. “This requires some exceptional explanation. I hope you came prepared, Vinyl Scratch. Go on, explain to me how unicorns are alien tech, because I would really like to know.”
Cringing, Vinyl wished that she had chosen her words a little better.
A deep breath was all Vinyl needed to go on. One deep cleansing breath. Of course, it didn’t fix much, but it did clear her head a bit. Even though it was still early, she drew her wildcard fallback, knowing it would have to come into play sooner or later. Princess Celestia was left unsettled by her last statement, so it was time to keep the big mare off balance.
“Not only are unicorns radios, but all of this ties in to Sumac’s ever expanding hypothesis.” Vinyl summoned her natural cocky confidence, recovered her self-assured smirk, and suddenly, she was eleven years old again, doing schoolwork. The look upon Princess Celestia’s face was immensely satisfying, because the old schoolmarm was just plain baffled.
How many ponies had baffled the Princess of the Sun? Vinyl liked to think not many, but the truth was probably something else entirely. Feeling good about her recovery, Vinyl flexed her knees, bounced in place, and her tail flicked around her hocks on its own. She took a moment to adjust her tie, because it felt like the right thing to do at the time, and then, raising her hoof, she gestured at the items she had put up on display on the trunk.
“I can show you,” Vinyl offered. “If you recall, it was you that taught me one of my most important lessons in school. Since I was mute, it was you that taught me how to put on a show. I had to find other ways to express myself. You gave me my sense of self-expression, so thanks for that.”
“Your sincere flattery is duly noted, Vinyl Scratch.”
“Sumac, if you will.” Vinyl turned to face her apprentice.
The colt snapped out of his panic, went over to the trunk, and placed one hoof upon the artifact on top. “The device had to be somewhat modified to work in this world, but other than that, such modifications are minimal. Vinyl and I have a theory that our electrons work differently than their electrons because of thaumatons and the electron excitement factor. The off-world batteries failed to work in any way, shape, or form, so we had to make a few changes so this would work with our batteries. Vinyl even got it to work with our wall plugins without frying everything inside of it.”
Princess Celestia stood still as a statue, but had nothing to say.
Meanwhile, Raven was adjusting the camera and Vinyl was preparing her demonstration. Opening a wooden case, she pulled out a small, delicate device and gave it a quick once-over to make sure that everything looked right. Sumac powered up the artifact, the radio, and a glowing pale blue light could be seen pouring from its analogue display. Before modifications, the light had been a pale, wan yellow light, when she had hooked it up to Sumac and tried using him as a battery, but the smell of hot, toasty electronics had put an end to that in a hurry.
Moving as far away as she could, Vinyl stood near a wall, slipped the device over her horn, and said, “I will now act as a radio transmitter. Observe.”
Concentrating, Vinyl gave her horn a minimum of power and charged up. From the radio came a faint hum and she focused her thoughts, remembering all of her experiments with Sumac, who was the most dutiful, most wonderful apprentice a wizard could hope for. The device on her horn had a cluster of tiny crystals, which now glowed with a glittery light.
When Vinyl spoke, her voice came from two places. “Testing, testing, one, two, three.”
“It’s a wireless microphone.” Shrugging with her wings, Princess Celestia shook her head from side to side. “I fail to see what this proves.”
When Sumac’s horn ignited with a fiery green glow, the message on the radio turned into a garbled stream of crackling feedback, which made every ear in the room prick upright. Raven’s microphone let out a squeal that grew unbearable, and when Sumac’s horn went dim, everything went silent.
“It is the same problem we’ve observed with wireless microphones,” Princess Celestia said in a matter-of-fact sort of way.
“Vinyl and I asked ourselves why we had this problem.” Sumac pushed his glasses back up his nose with a deft flick of magic and looked up at the big white mare looking down at him. “It took us in new directions. Gave us new understandings. And then I started remembering stuff—”
“From the centaur archive?” Princess Celestia’s words were little more than a whisper.
Sumac nodded.
“That changes things. Sumac, tell me, as clearly as you can, what did you remember?”
“Well,” the colt began, and Vinyl was breathless while she waited, “stuff about radio, mostly. There was a little bit about unicorns and the modifications made to them. And uh, there was a few things about artificial ley lines. Powered amplifiers to boost weak signals.”
“It is as I feared.” Princess Celestia’s voice was almost inaudible and she began pacing the floor.
Sensing a problem, Vinyl tried to read her former teacher but found that she couldn’t. Raven had retreated so that she was out of the way. Sumac had that look on his face that Vinyl knew all too well, that expression of wondering if he had done something wrong, and for a brief moment, she had some resentful feelings towards Princess Celestia for leaving poor Sumac in this state.
“Tell me more about how this connects to Sumac’s hypothesis?” Princess Celestia commanded, her tone having changed to something almost unpleasant.
It took Vinyl a few seconds to realise that the pacing alicorn was doing threat assessment, and in this regard, she was a lot like Tarnish. When he did threat assessment, he too sounded openly hostile, even to his friends. It was nothing personal though and it was something that somepony quickly learned to deal with. Daring Do even valued it, because it cued her in on danger that she might have been otherwise oblivious to. Tarnish could smell trouble from miles away, long before most ponies, and Vinyl found herself comparing him to Princess Celestia.
“Using the radio, we found that unicorns operate on frequencies, but we had some trouble trying to determine what those frequencies are—”
“Why is that?” the pacing princess asked.
To which Vinyl replied, “Quantum effect? Thaumaton interference? We don’t know, but as with most things, magic doesn’t like to be measured. It played tricks on us and did devious things to throw off our readings.”
And to this, Princess Celestia let out a snort, then said, “Typical.”
Undeterred, Vinyl continued and explained the basics. “After some extensive testing, with Twilight Sparkle organising said tests, we were able to determine that unicorns operate on radio frequencies and we were even able to make preliminary measurements. We rapidly concluded a few basics and Sumac’s recovered data from a few eons ago helped us to fill in a few blanks.”
At the mention of his name, Sumac smiled, a reassuring sight for Vinyl.
“The most common, the most basic unicorn, we’ll call them frequency one unicorns. They are plentiful, and also the ones that suffer the most from Sumac’s hypothesis. All of them operate on a very narrow frequency of rather lowish power, but that doesn’t mean weak. A long time ago, these unicorns were quite powerful, but there were fewer of them.”
“Go on,” Princess Celestia commanded in her best schoolmarm voice.
“After a lot of testing, Twilight found a lot of variances and ranges, and the data is there, in a Sparkle-Organised binder.” Vinyl pointed with her hoof and was dismayed when Princess Celestia didn’t turn to look at it. “There appears to be a somewhat more powerful unicorn, a frequency two, but there was a lot of arguing over that and the previous frequency twos eventually were bumped up to the frequency four category.”
Vinyl wished that she had a glass of water.
“The power difference between frequency ones and the seeming frequency twos is very difficult to notice, but there does seem to be some evidence supporting the variation. Perhaps with fewer unicorns drawing from the same source, the differences would be far more noticeable, and that’s our problem. The lower frequencies are all jammed with far too many unicorns, all operating on the same band and drawing power from the same source.”
“That appears to be a frustrating issue.”
Surprised, Vinyl turned to look at Raven, who had spoken. “It is. It made Twilight almost tear out her mane and there was a lot of fighting with Trixie over who was right. You know how those two can be.”
“Yeah,” Sumac remarked, “but the best sort of results only comes after one of their big fights where they have to prove who is right.” Grinning, the colt looked up at Princess Celestia while she paced past him. “Sometimes, I’m a bad colt and I manipulate them into fighting just so we can sort things out.”
“How devious,” the big mare murmured while she turned to go in the other direction.
“As one climbs up the frequency spectrum, one finds unicorns with broader and broader bands of power, but this has introduced new issues into Sumac’s hypothesis.” Vinyl tried to look into Princess Celestia’s eyes while the big mare approached. “Those unicorns, like the frequency threes for example, can tap into the same frequencies as the frequency ones and the frequency twos, but it doesn’t do them a lot of good because there is so little to draw from. It’s there, and it might have been helpful a long time ago when there were fewer unicorns, but now, it is almost as if it is a vestigial adaptation. Near as we can tell, it serves no real purpose or offers no real benefit.”
Turning about, the pacing alicorn went in the other direction.
Vinyl had no choice but to go on. “Some unicorns like Trixie seem to operate on a band all their own that other unicorns can’t touch. We’re still debating that, but there seems to be bloodline-based frequencies that are inherited. The evidence is compelling and Sumac has some memories of centaur modification that support this. Why they did it remains unknown.”
“Because they calculated the odds and saw a future that few of us could comprehend,” Princess Celestia said as she went still. “They foresaw these issues and no doubt made compensations. By making certain unicorns draw from specific power sources, it ensured that there would always be a few powerful magic users… exceptional casters of unbelievable power and skill. Most of those seem to come from Luna’s bloodline, and that makes sense, given what we are. Insurance for the future.”
Brows furrowing, Vinyl thought of Skyreach and then immediately wished she hadn’t.
“Alicorns draw from sources we can’t even understand.” Sumac picked up where Vinyl had left off. “They draw from anything and everything, including other whens and wheres. Sunburst has a theory that he is developing that suggests that modern alicorns might be drawing upon ancient magic reserves of the long ago past due to quantum-thaumatomic draw. It is a mere trickle of power if it exists and we’re not sure if we can measure it.”
“Sumac, how?” Turning about, Princess Celestia looked down at the bespectacled colt.
“Twilight gives me dangerously high doses of concentrated zap apple extract made by Zecora and it jacks my intelligence. When I’m jacked, my sorcery talent does scary things to Sunburst and the Crystal Heart seems to interact too as well, but we’re not sure in what way just yet. But it also gives off radio waves and these, uh, interact with the crystal ponies in a weird way. Seems to make them glow. The signal sends power and the crystal ponies act like crystal radio receivers and their glow is proportional to the strength of the signal.”
Sumac it seemed, had strayed a little from the topic, but Vinyl couldn’t fault him because of how he held Princess Celestia’s attention.
“Is the Crystal Empire a radio transmitter?” Princess Celestia asked. “Like a wireless microphone transmitter?”
“Uh, um, well, yeah, it seems to, uh, be exactly that,” Sumac stammered in reply.
Jaw muscles clenching, Princess Celestia resumed her pacing.
Vinyl heaved an internal sigh; Sumac had given away one of the Big Reveals at what felt like an inopportune time. It was something that should have been saved for negotiation, such as if perhaps Princess Celestia decided that this project was too dangerous to continue. The Big Reveal of the Crystal Empire would require continued study and was something that just couldn’t be ignored. Oh well, what was done was done, Sumac had played one of their aces and there was no putting it back into the deck.
Removing the crystalline device from her horn, Vinyl slipped into her pocket.
“It’s given us insight into the Great Enemy as well,” Sumac said to Princess Celestia, his voice squeaky. “We have theories how his magic works and why unicorns that follow him gain so much power. Princess, we’ve entered into the Great Radio Race, as my master calls it. This race is the very study of magic itself. We have to keep studying, because you can bet that the Great Enemy is hard at work trying to figure this out as well. We have advantages in this race and we need to exploit them.”
Again, the alicorn stopped in place, her pacing ceased. “Tell me more…”
Vinyl Scratch wondered for as much time as she dared how normal ponies dealt with getting grilled by Princess Celestia. Having attended Princess Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns, Vinyl had endured this unique experience before quite a number of times so she stood up to the crushing pressure she now faced. The princess wasn’t doing much, just the playing it cool routine, but it was more than enough to leave Vinyl sweating into her shirt while she scrambled for what she had hoped was an optional part of her presentation.
Around her, the room was almost bare, stark, bleak, barren; the room was just like the examination room when she was a foal. Not much to look at but Princess Celestia herself. White stone walls with pink marble tile floor that was cold against the frogs. A camera, a microphone, one assistant, and one apprentice that also appeared a little sweaty. When this was over, successful or not, Vinyl was going to buy Sumac and herself some ice cream, just because.
“The Great Enemy,” Vinyl began and her thoughts went to those she battled against, “has altered how magic is broadcast and radiated from the ground in some fundamental way. This is not fully understood yet, but we know that the Black Star corrupted the surface of Terra long ago. Some magic undergoes some kind of unknown, not-yet-understood modulation of frequency. Not all magic, just some magic, with unicorns and magical creatures no longer able to receive it.”
“I call it band-brand, but Twilight says that’s silly.” Sumac, sounding somewhat chirpy, smiled up at the big white princess. “This is coming from the mare that invented Sparkle-Organisation and she says that’s a fine, perfectly serviceable name. What gives, Princess?”
When Princess Celestia laughed, Vinyl seized upon the moment whilst deciding right then and there that Sumac’s ice cream was getting a sundae upgrade. Somehow, her apprentice had lightened the mood and relieved some of the pressure, an incredible feat of verbal awesomeaucity that was most certainly Rainbow Dash approved.
“Grogar, Catrina, Dark Desire, Belladonna…”—Vinyl trailed off for a moment, worried how Sumac might react hearing his birth-mother’s name, but he seemed fine—“the Great Enemy uses this modulated, altered magic and at great strength, because so few are using it. Those who take Grogar’s mark, both unicorns and creatures who can cast magic, gain immense magical power, and this is how, I believe. They have access to a different spectrum, a different set of frequencies that common unicorns can’t access. And because so few are drawing from it, they have an abundance of excessive magical energy at their disposal. This is how Belladonna went from being a minor magical talent to somepony who can take on whole armies and win.”
Raven and Princess Celestia both exchanged a look with one another, and when Raven nodded, Princess Celestia did as well. Vinyl wondered what the exchange was about and what these two seemed to be confirming. Did they know about this already but understand it in some fundamentally different way? Was there more data that might help her own studies? Something was up, but what?
“Mister Teapot has been a part of our study too, and Maud,” Sumac said to Princess Celestia, and in doing so, garnered her attention.
Vinyl almost held her breath; her apprentice was playing all of their best cards all at once.
“As you know, Mister Teapot has poison joke magic. He regulates magic that is corrupt or that is out of control. This is what poison joke does; it takes magic that is off-frequency and cleans it up until it is something that can be used by unicorns and magical creatures once more. My master Vinyl calls this new field of study bio-radio but Twilight wants to call it something silly, stupid, and complicated.”
There was a flash of orange when Sumac licked his lips, and then he continued, “Poison joke changes the frequency of magic around it in some way that we don’t understand. It is a slow and gradual process that converts corrupt, dangerous, or hostile magic into safe, clean magic again. Ley line intersections are natural powerful emitters and this scrambles the frequencies somewhat. Our data includes extensive studies done at the Pie Family Farm, which is a known intersection and has significant fields of poison joke.”
“Bio-radio, you say?” Princess Celestia seemed as if she was tasting the word. “I like that. Simple and direct. So there are biological agents that help with unicorn radio units? Are there any other examples than just crystal ponies and poison joke?”
“Timber wolves,” Sumac blurted out in response. “But uh, the poison joke variety. They act as bio-radio repair-creatures, with their ability to move to hot spots and places where stable magic has been disrupted. Now that Mister Teapot and his druids go around and fix the timber wolves by grafting poison joke into them, they’ve been doing what bioengineered nature has intended.”
Vinyl, who was getting into the spirit of things, nodded. “Dragons too. We don’t yet understand the mechanism, but dragons can take things such as letters and common, simple objects, dragons can incinerate these objects with their magical fire and everything is converted into a new type of radio signal that we can’t even begin to understand just yet. We only know that it exists because of theory. It seems that only dragons and alicorns can tap into this frequency of magic. It is how Spike and Boomer send letters.”
“And dragons, being metallic based life forms, are basically just big receivers and emitters,” Sumac added while he bounced up and down in excitement. “Big roary dragon belches cause all kinds of weird radio distortion and we don’t know how to even begin studying it.”
“Yeah, Boomer introduced some irregularities into our study.” Vinyl took a moment to collect her thoughts and then ploughed ahead even though she understood very little. “Spike can reach both Canterlot and the Crystal Empire with his letters, but Boomer has trouble with Canterlot. As you know, she just can’t seem to send letters to you under most circumstances. But Boomer can reach the Crystal Empire, which is of a significant distance away.”
Both Raven and Princess Celestia seemed perplexed.
“Which leads us back to the unusual nature of the Crystal Empire and the crystal ponies that live there,” Vinyl continued. “It appears, to us, to those of us who have been trying to understand this, that the Crystal Empire itself is fine tuned to pick up distant or otherwise weak signals, such as Boomer’s. We don’t know what other signals it might be able to pick up, but Sunburst speculates that the Crystal Empire could work as a sort of radio telescope that could pick up signals from outer space. Trixie supports his idea, and has taken his side on the issue, but Twilight is convinced that both of them are space-crazed weirdos because Trixie wants to launch one of her rockets into space.”
“And your opinion, Mrs. Scratch?”
“Princess, you and I both know that Grogar sought out the powers beyond the stars.”
“Observational data suggests that Boomer can only reach Canterlot on clear days with no weather and no magical interference from the Everfree,” Sumac said, oblivious to the question and answers between his master and the princess. After getting her attention, when Princess Celestia focused her steely gaze upon him, the colt seemed to shrink.
“The Everfree causes radio disturbance?” After a moment, the princess rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Question.” Raven’s voice was one of cold, dominating logic. “If the Crystal Empire draws in and amplifies magical signals… does this mean that Princess Cadance is proportionally stronger in the Crystal Empire when compared to Princess Celestia in Canterlot?”
At that moment, Vinyl felt the collar of her fresh-pressed shirt go damp. “I have no idea. That’s something we haven’t even taken into consideration. I’m sorry.”
“Twilight’s castle is of a similar crystalline structure.” It was difficult to determine if Princess Celestia was saying this to herself or to the ponies around her. “This opens up a world of intriguing possibilities.”
“Which is why the Great Radio Race is so important, Princess.” Sumac closed the distance between himself and the enormous white mare. “We have no choice but to continue these studies and try to find answers. You must allow access to this technology so that our best and brightest minds might be able to contribute and find answers. All of Equestria will benefit from this.”
“I…”—here, Princess Celestia seemed to hesitate and she made a long pause, behaving almost as if she was struggling to say her answer—“concur.”
Baring her teeth, Raven shook her head hard enough to work lose a few strands of her mane. “This feels risky, I don’t like it. The whole of our society is permeated with agent provocateurs and anything that we know will also be known by the Great Enemy.”
“Which is why this is now an imperative,” Princess Celestia said to her faithful assistant. “As risky as it might be, and I acknowledge those risks, we must do this to get ahead. Destiny is on our side. What new cutie marks might we see because of this? What new understanding might be gleaned? Raven, we have brilliant minds studying this now, and while they are doing an admirable job, a pony with a radio-related cutie mark might do better. We must harness the strength of our Great Society and exploit what we do best.”
Raven, who blinked a few times, seemed to relent. Ears sagging, she adopted a submissive posture. “I agree. I don’t like it, but I agree, and that is a wise approach. However, I am very uncomfortable with this approach, no matter how well it seems to have worked for us. It has also worked against us.”
“It has.” Princess Celestia’s words held great sadness, or maybe it was just Vinyl’s imagination which was swept up by the drama of the moment.
“Princess, I’ve prepared for a special moment.” Vinyl had trouble believing she was saying these words and she savoured the moment, because this validated all of her hard work. All of her struggles had paid off and now, if she was lucky, one day, perhaps one day soon, this could be used for music; Octavia could be heard in every dwelling, every workplace. Vinyl could see the future, and it was one filled with music.
How music could survive being free and sent over the air remained to be seen.
From the top of the trunk, Vinyl lifted a special crystalline apparatus and held it up for Princess Celestia to examine. And examine it she did—before Vinyl could say anything, the princess held out her wing for silence and the excited unicorn found herself shushed. In silence, Vinyl watched, waited, and wondered.
“This is a curious device,” Princess Celestia said to Vinyl. “I see a few crystals, what appears to be some pencil lead, a steel needle, and a somewhat corroded section of copper, among other things. What is this?”
Prepared, Vinyl had a response. “For our tests, we stripped down the radio to its core components to see how it worked without power. This is a crystal radio, a receiver that works without electricity. By stripping everything down, we gained a greater understanding of the most basic principles. This one is special and it is made just for you. It doubles as a transmitter, an unpowered transmitter that relies on raw magical amplitude. Not sure what it will do, but I have a great many colleagues waiting with crystal radios affixed to their horns. You’ll be able to talk to them… I think. Sumac and I were able to talk across Ponyville, but it was hard to hear and the signal was pretty garbled.”
From her suit jacket pocket, Vinyl pulled a small delicate tuning fork made of the finest refined silver. Holding it up, she continued, “Fine tune your magic to the same pitch and you’ll be ready to transmit. Everypony is waiting and listening, Princess Celestia.”
Did Vinyl see hesitation in Princess Celestia’s face? She wasn’t sure. Something was there, excitement perhaps, but something else was present. Vinyl strained to read the princess’ face, because whatever might be hidden could lead to a greater appreciation or understanding of this moment.
“How does it work?” Princess Celestia asked while she continued to examine the makeshift crystal radio.
“It is mostly powered by the strength of the signal transmitting, which will be you. Your voice will be transmitted over radio waves. I theorise that in a world without magic this could also be done through the power of electrified signals and an amplified transmitter. You would just need to generate powerful enough radio waves and an unpowered, passive receiver could detect them. Range would be limited.”
“And it works on the same principles of a wireless microphone, but without electrical power.” Almost cross eyed, Princess Celestia gave a dubious stare to the device she held. “But this will work at a far greater distance, I suppose?”
At this, Vinyl fell back on mute response, and nodded.
“Understanding it is hard.” Sumac stood at Princess Celestia’s front hooves and looked up. “For us, magic and radio are woven together. They’re one in the same. It is impossible to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. Stuff doesn’t want to be measured. Observing it changes the outcomes. Sunburst keeps shouting that trying to figure this out is going to turn his mane grey. Twilight says that understanding radio might be Equestria’s single most important accomplishment, and would be a defining moment in our society.”
Vinyl picked up where her apprentice left off. “Twilight has been in contact with Sunset Shimmer beyond the mirror. Radio used to be a relatively simple field of study over there, an established science.” Then, as an afterthought she mentioned, “Don’t worry, Twilight didn’t smuggle a whole bunch of scientific manuals over for us to study and we’re sticking to our own conclusions. We’ve obeyed the protocols you’ve established.”
After a deep breath, she continued, “But things are changing on the other side of the mirror. With the introduction of magic into their world, some of their simple sciences have grown quite complex. Only recently we’ve been able to piece together why. For them, radio was a simple topic, when it lacked magic. Our understanding of it will be forever impeded because of the nature of magic itself. It doesn’t like being studied.”
The princess shuffled on her hooves. “This is worrisome. Their technology has crossed into our world, changing it, and our magic has crossed into their world, forever altering it. We must remain cautious, or else the mistakes of the centaurs will also become our own. We could very well progress ourselves right out of existence.”
“It is worrisome, and it is all the more reason why we need to study and gain new understanding.” Vinyl looked up at her former teacher and found that she was quite relaxed at the moment, which was surprising. “Some of their technology has become quirky. Some of it seems to be failing. Radio has become unstable, or so Twilight says. Thaumatons are propagating in that world now, and we don’t know what will happen or what will change. They barely understand quantum interactions as it is and they aren’t prepared for a study of magic.”
“I see.” Princess Celestia’s words were resigned. “So what do I do? Attune my magic to the tuning fork and then what? Just begin speaking after I place this over my horn?”
“Yes, Princess Celestia,” Sumac replied, still looking up. “The magic wants to work, we just have to play by its rules. It has its own sense of organisation.”
After drawing in a great amount of air, Princess Celestia smiled, and the room filled with sunshine. Vinyl Scratch pulled out a pocket watch, checked the time, and gave a nod to her apprentice. The big white alicorn struck the lid of the trunk with the tuning fork and her ears quivered while she listened. Again she struck the tuning fork and the thrum of her magic changed pitch until it rang true. The crystal device was slipped over her horn, and it too, began to glow with a cheerful light that was distinct from the aetherfire glow of Princess Celestia’s magic.
Raven took a step back and made a hurried adjustment to the camera so that it was focused upon Princess Celestia, who was now clearing her throat. Optimism like a raging inferno blazed within the eyes of the Princess of the Sun and she set the tuning fork down upon the lid of Vinyl’s trunk.
“What do I say?” Princess Celestia asked, and her crackly voice came out of the nearby radio, which was still glowing blue. Looking embarrassed, she tried again, this time with all of the feeling and confidence that she could muster. “Greetings, my fellow Equestrians. Can you hear me? This is the first official Crown sponsored broadcast of the Equestrian Radio Ministry, which is headed by one Vinyl Scratch. I am here to announce a new era for Equestria. Is there anypony out there?”
“This is Lord Fancy Pants of the Canterlot Radio Club, sounding off as per protocols established by the esteemed Vinyl Scratch. Can you hear me? I was scheduled to go first.”
The voice was faint, not very loud, and rather scratchy, but it could be heard.
A full minute passed, Vinyl knew because she stood staring at the second hand of her stopwatch, and then, “Princess Twilight Sparkle, of Ponyville, sounding off. So far, all I’ve heard is Princess Celestia. Canterlot Radio Club did not come in.”
Again, the second hand of the pocket watch made another sweeping turn, going round the face, and Vinyl waited, breathless, wondering if the next report could be heard.
A voice, faint, scratchy, and distant, could only just barely be heard coming from the area around Princess Celestia’s horn. “This is the Great—CRACKLE!—Powerful Trixie located at the—CRACKLE!—Rock Farm with my—CRACKLE!—assistant Boomer and—CRACKLE!—Pie. I can—CRACKLE!—Princess—CRACKLE!—but I—CRACKLE!—Fancy—CRACKLE!—Sparkle. I repeat, no signal—CRACKLE!—can you hear me?” The transmission died with a stream of static-filled garble.
Now, almost holding her breath, Vinyl waited as the second hand completed another round trip around the clock face. It was, perhaps, the longest sixty seconds of her life, and it felt like whole hours were passing with each slow tick. Nothing could be more torturous, and even Sumac appeared to be covered in ants with the way he pranced in place.
“This is Sunburst of the Crystal Empire. I can hear you, Princess Celestia and Princess Twilight. I am broadcasting from the Crystal Palace. Your signals were quite faint, and all I could hear was a whisper. I hope that you can hear me. Princess Cadance is beside me and she looks pleased with our success.”
“Okay, Princess!” Vinyl blurted out. “Respond!”
“This is Princess Celestia once more,” the white alicorn began in a calm, steady, clear voice, the distinct voice of a ruler. “Canterlot Radio Club, I can hear you and your club is formally recognised. Princess Twilight, you were heard. Trixie, your signal was hard to hear, but was received. Sunburst, I am very pleased to hear your voice, as always. And to anypony else that is listening, I am joyful to have you join us for this historic event.”
Then, without further ado, Princess Celestia dimmed her horn a little, slipped the crystalline device from its length, and set it down upon the trunk, next to the Sparkle-Organised binder. Standing there, her head high and with her body in a noble pose, Princess Celestia looked somehow regal in her macaroni and gluey-glitter finery, an accomplishment that few mortals could somehow pull off.
“Vinyl Scratch, you will, of course, be in charge of the Equestrian Radio Ministry. If you must, change the name to something more suitable. You have that authority. Officially, this will be a formal, recognised ministry of the Crown concerning radio…” Princess Celestia blinked and then stood there, no doubt choosing her next words with great care.
Always courageous, Vinyl Scratch already understood the implications and she felt a great weight bearing down upon her withers. “Shall we appoint Twilight to look after, um, Friendship Radio?”
Ears pricking, Sumac tilted his head off to one side, glanced at his master, and then looked up at the princess. “Hey, wait, did you just create a ministry that governs magic and the study of magic and put Vinyl in charge of it?”
“Ho ho ho ho hoo hoo!” Extending her wing, Princess Celestia brushed Sumac’s cheek with her primary feathers. “Goodness no, Sumac. I would never do that. In accordance with the Treaty of the Three Tribes, magic is to remain free and unregulated. I would never violate that treaty, because that would be tyrannical. I put Vinyl in charge of a radio ministry so we can understand its workings better and how it might affect all of us.”
“I see.” Sumac, not a stupid colt, nodded and went along.
Yanking at her collar and tie, Vinyl loosened them so that she could breathe a little easier. This was unexpected; sure, she had a dream of a more musical Equestria, but this went far beyond what she had in mind. Herald of Selene, mother, mate, herd member, adventurer, master to a gifted apprentice, and now, this, whatever this was. Somehow, she was going to have to regulate radio and establish it as an institution, without interfering with magic somehow.
It would be a fine, fine line to tread.
“For now, continue with unpowered crystal radio studies as your top priority,” said Princess Celestia in a smooth tone of command. “Take advantage of the Canterlot Radio Club. Request that they pay dues, as is the usual when it comes to clubs specific to Crown-funded ministries. Create a standardised crystal radio schematic and distribute it through whatever means you see fit. Do whatever it takes to generate public interest. On my end, I’ll put Mister Orange to work crafting a narrative that the radio is now our national pride, or some such thing.”
“Princess…” Vinyl felt her magic waver for a second and it took her a moment to recover it. Weighing the nature of her request, Vinyl knew that she was asking a lot, but she would ask, nonetheless. “Princess, as the head of this new ministry, I must ask that you do your part as well. From you, from the whole of the Royal Family, I would like weekly radio addresses. It would be like you coming into ponies’ homes to visit them. I know for a fact that ponies would gain an interest in radio and would go through the trouble of constructing a crystal radio receiver if they knew that they could hear you address our fair nation. This will push the technology forwards faster than anything else—the ability to hear your voice from coast to coast, that is.”
The big white mare seemed taken aback—surprised—and for a moment, she could be seen squirming where she stood. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “Coast to coast you say? The whole of the nation hanging upon my every word?”
Seeing her former teacher this way made Vinyl feel bad. The princess reacted in much the same way Octavia did before a big concert with thousands of attendees. “Yes, Princess. If you could do this, Your Majesty, it would assist in progress.”
“Gosling is a commissioned communications officer.” The princess’ voice had an odd shrillness to it that Vinyl hadn’t heard before, and it was distressing to witness. “I will put him in charge of these efforts. With the power of his voice, he shall make Equestria happy.”
Bowing her head, Vinyl did not push the issue further, as Princess Celestia appeared to be frazzled and even a bit sweaty. An observant pony, Vinyl had seen enough to know. Though she herself was an extrovert, she was surrounded by introverts, or as some called them, ponies with a broken herd-sense. Octavia, Sumac, her own son, Alto, and even poor Tarnish showed some signs of introversion when he wasn’t forced to get into some mook’s face and break his knees with some improvised weapon. Alas, Tarnish’s introversion was debatable, he could just be emotional or having one of his broken Teapot moments…
But Princess Celestia was most certainly an introvert.
“I fear I must cut this short.” Pausing, the princess took a moment to look down at Vinyl, and Vinyl returned eye contact with her former teacher. “Leave the binder for me to sort through and the custom crystal radio. Go and be successful, Vinyl Scratch. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Princess.”
“Yes, thank you, Princess.” Sumac stood up straight, held still, and did his best to look respectful.
Even though a lot hadn’t been said, it seemed as though they were done here. While Vinyl watched, Raven collected the binder, the custom crystalline device, and then conjured up a container to put them in. She felt weird, as if she had been awake for too long, and realised that she was exhausted. This whole presentation had been exhausting. In an instant, life had changed, and now, she was the head of what could arguably be the most powerful and most important ministry in all of Equestria. Was she ready?
Probably not.
Did she have friends who would help her?
Without a doubt.
Was it time to go and get some ice cream?
Yes it was.
“Princess, one last thing…”
“Yes, Mrs. Scratch?”
“Thank you for believing in me.”
“Vinyl… from the moment I laid eyes on you, and especially when you were sent to my office for disciplinary action, I have believed in you.”
“Thank you, Princess—”
“Call me Celestia.”
“Thank you, Celestia.”
“You are most welcome, Vinyl. Now go, and do good in the world.”
Smiling, Vinyl Scratch found that she could follow these instructions and she made a gesture for her apprentice to come closer. When he did, she pulled him to her, slipped a foreleg around his skinny neck, and hugged him. Behind her dark glasses, her eyes moistened, and she had to blink a few times to keep tears from falling.
At long last, Vinyl truly felt that she had become the pony that Octavia believed her to be.
The ice cream parlour was almost empty; it was just far too cold a day for ice cream. Yet, there were ponies here, a hardy few, and their boisterous voices provided a pleasant background noise. Feeling generous and maybe a bit self-destructive, Vinyl had ordered the Celestial Juggernaut; not one, for her and her apprentice to share, but two, one for each of them. It was the sort of thing that no responsible adult would ever do.
“I should have brought my umbrella,” Sumac remarked.
“Umbrella?” Confused, Vinyl shot her apprentice a curious glance.
“We came to an ice cream parlour… there’s a chance of sprinkles—”
“Oh, boo!” Shaking her head, Vinyl’s hidden eyes rolled behind her glasses.
“Hey, Vinyl!” There was a reckless grin on Sumac’s face that was disconcerting.
Hesitant, Vinyl invited disaster. “What?”
“What do you get if you divide the circumference of a dish of ice cream by its diameter?”
Right about now, Vinyl wished that she hadn’t invited disaster and she said nothing.
“Pi à la Mode!”
The sensation permeating through Vinyl’s grey matter was worse than brain freeze and after many moments of painful cringing, she facehoofed, which knocked her glasses askew. Her apprentice showed distressing signs of pure evil. Not maniacal mustache twirling afternoon matinée evil, but world-dominating-crushing-others-underhoof-evil. In short, the worst kind of evil, because how did one fight back against a barrage of bad jokes and puns? Ugh!
“Did we do okay, Vinyl?”
The sudden change of tone from her apprentice caused Vinyl some worry and she gave the colt a good looking over. He seemed okay at first glance, but closer inspection revealed a few introvert warning signs; her apprentice was having an internal freak out and his bad jokes were his way of blowing off some steam. What he needed was reassurance, so she nodded.
“We did fine, Sumac. Fine enough that things turned out well.” A powerful sense of emotion welled up within Vinyl Scratch and she shuddered when the sting of tears burned the corners of her eyes. She had to play it cool though, because it was a real drag if you cried into your bowl of ice cream. It was now a struggle to hold everything together and she had no idea what was wrong or why she felt like crying.
“You don’t look fine.”
Looking away but at nothing in particular, Vinyl shrugged and wished that her ribs would stop hitching, because it was annoying. What had come over her all of a sudden? Behind the counter, a dull purple unicorn prepared two Celestial Juggernauts and poured tropical fruit in heavy syrup into two massive, comically-oversized troughs.
Thinking of Octavia, Vinyl knew. Vinyl knew and it was her undoing. The floodgates opened and the first few tears began to fall, a trickle at first, then a deluge, and finally, a torrent. Like spring showers, it lasted for but a short time, and Vinyl began pulling paper napkins out of the chrome dispenser so she could clean herself up. She just wasn’t the crying sort, but it did happen, always explosive and brief. She blew her nose with a dainty honk—which caused a few heads to turn—and Sumac, though small, was an aggressive, protective sort when it came to mares and fillies weeping in public.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” The colt leveled a hard stare that swept through the room that turned heads away. “That’s what I thought.” Sitting up a little taller in his padded bench seat, Sumac turned to face his master. “Are you alright?”
It took Vinyl a moment, but yes, she was alright. Emotional maybe, but she was fine. Even though a few tears still trickled down, she found her smile and kept wiping at her face with wads of paper napkins—paper napkins which did nothing to clean sticky ice cream messes off of fuzzy faces and weren’t so good for snot, either.
When she spoke, her voice came out distorted and weird, because the magic powering it lacked focus. “I’m successful, Sumac. I can finally say I’m somepony.”
“What?” Bewildered, Sumac shrank down in his seat. “You’re already an amazing pony, Vinyl. How are you not successful? You’re already somepony.”
Already, Vinyl’s mind was sorting out the various details as she worked through her emotional reset and a multitude of things became clearer. She was surprised by her own complexity and it occurred to her that some part of her had been aware of this problem all along, she just hadn’t acknowledged it. Being mute, she had always been the quiet one, so why would she speak up about it or give voice to the problem?
Problems without solutions were ignored and energy was redirected elsewhere.
“Sumac… it’s complicated.” Vinyl blew her nose again and then vanished her snotty, mascara-stained napkins into the sewer where they belonged. “I can’t talk about most of what I do. My adventuring? I can’t tell most ponies about that. My work as a sound engineer? It is so hard for ponies to understand what I do. It’s impossible to explain in a party conversation that I make Octavia’s music sound amazing. It’s like everything I do is in support of somepony else and it takes explaining to have it make sense or seem important.”
Understanding spread over Sumac’s face like a slow sunrise.
“But I can say that I am the head of the Equestrian Radio Ministry and ponies will understand that. I’ve finally done something with my life… I’ve accomplished some great and wonderful thing… I’ve finally done what Octavia always said I’d do—”
“You finally did something important that can be shared without complication.”
At this, Vinyl went silent and she was shocked by how succinct Sumac could be.
“Self-explanatory greatness.”
Vinyl’s silence endured.
“Everypony that knows you best already knows that you’re a great pony, and you do all the hard work that makes our lives better. You’re like Lemon, in that everything that you do is in support of others, and just like Lemon, you probably don’t feel that you get enough recognition. She struggles with it too. Trixie has her greatness, Twinkleshine has her, uh… reputation, but Lemon gets nothing and she’s too nice to try and explain why she’s important. Without Lemon Hearts, there would be no Trixie or Twinkleshine. They’d fall apart.”
Something deep inside of Vinyl melted and she felt a quivery shudder whilst she looked at her apprentice. A few more tears fell and she was thankful for the introverts in her life, because they understood. They saw stuff. Not much slipped by them unnoticed, not the important details anyway, and they were always there with a save when it mattered.
“I’ll be right back,” Vinyl said. “I’ve got to go to the little filly’s room. Be watchful, Sumac.”
“Right.”
How Sumac had eaten so much ice cream in so short a time was a mystery; how he did so without brain freeze, a greater one. Vinyl had hardly made a dent in hers while Sumac assailed his Celestial Juggernaut with the sort of savage voracity that only a colt his age could muster.
With success came understanding. Vinyl had some new insights into the lives of those closest to her. Tarnish had some great successes in his life, as a ranger, as an adventurer, as the Heliophant, but when he had become a recognised professor—something the common pony understood—Tarnish had bawled like a foal. Octavia too, had a whole list of successes, but when she became the first pony to have ever sold over one million records, the shock of that success had floored her. Of course, Vinyl’s hard work made the record sales possible, but trying to explain how and why was enough to put a pony to sleep.
Vinyl Scratch held the patent for stereophonic multi-channeled sound distribution through multiple amplified ambience devices, a process that used multiple records playing in sync and filled the room with directional sounds which surrounded the listener, which had of course revolutionised how ponies heard the sound in movies, but she couldn’t talk about it without causing heads to explode. It was an accomplishment that was impossible to bring up in casual conversation.
Sumac had his own similar problem, and it was all Vinyl’s fault; at the tender age of seven, he held not one, but two patents under his name. It was a most impressive feat, and Vinyl held immense pride because she had made it happen, but trying to discuss those things, to boast about them, it was almost impossible.
Of course, with every success, there had also been spectacular failures, many of which also were hard to discuss or explain. The bass projector was supposed to work on a quantum level, with powerful vibrations dispersed through the local environment through spooky action. It was now being weaponised and Vinyl had no idea how she was supposed to feel about it.
“Your job title should be Conductor,” Sumac said around a mouthful of ice cream, syrups, and tropical fruit.
Smiling, Vinyl’s spoon paused mid-stab into her frozen treat. A laugh worked its way out and she peered around the mountain of ice cream in front of her. “Sumac, that’s a fine idea, but I don’t think it will work. It needs to be something recognisable and easily understood. It might cause confusion otherwise.”
“Aw… nuts.” Somehow, Sumac crammed an entire scoop of chocolate ice cream into his maw and his head didn’t explode or implode—whatever fatality that brain freeze inflicted.
Vinyl dug out a chunk of pineapple, a bit of papaya, some chocolate syrup, and some crazy-pink ice cream that she couldn’t be certain of which flavour it was. Looking down at it, she held it in her spoon for a moment, silent, thankful, a return to being mute. It all came back to being mute. If she couldn’t talk, then she would make sound. But sound wasn’t enough, she had to make sounds beautiful. If she couldn’t tell somepony how she was feeling, she would make them feel what she was feeling, and she would do it with sound, with noise.
She wondered sometimes if creating her own voice with magic had robbed her in some way of her potential greatness. The need, the urge to fill the world with sound, with noise, had been somewhat diminished since she and Sumac had found her voice. Now, Vinyl was a phonograph of sorts, a sound projector, and she could make almost anything come out of her mouth, from a simple hello to a thumping, pulsating bass riff.
The whole of the world was about to be filled with sound through radio and Vinyl took a moment to enjoy the silence.
