:;Evening in America

I'm putting this up top to warn readers that the story gets pretty grimdark pretty quick from here. I have attempted to segregate the wost of it with {begin cut} tags and spoiler tags, however the site doesn't seem to like the latter very much. I claim indemnity to improperly spoiled triggers. Contains discussions of child abuse and general creepiness.

I had driven for twenty three hours straight . I was starting to hallucinate the road twisting as a great serpent before I finally began looking for the next exit. Luckily, it wasn't far away. I saw the motel sign lit up against the darkness which lay just past last dusk as I passed it on the on ramp. It was one of many open hospitalities I had passed and my fatigue addled mind thought nothing of it.

The girls had fallen asleep hours ago curled together around some video they were watching. Mercifully, they had been compliant and quiet. Mostly quiet. Short breaks every few hours helped. I turned onto the off-ramp and made a semi-spiral down a side road to get into the motel.

I parked out front, left the girls napping, and walked in like I was going to rent a room. I caught myself ringing the front bell before I stopped, feeling absurd in my attempt at normality. I was sitting in the waste of the world banging on a bell like a 80's road trip movie caricature. All I needed was a station wagon. Too tired to hop the counter, I walked around to the employees only area, let myself into the thankfully-unlocked-as-I-forgot-my-picks office. The bland metal door on the large box set in the wall hung open, exposing rows of room keys. I grabbed a pair for the second floor.

I swung by the car again, checking on the girls just to reassure myself, Yes, they're still alright. before heading up to the first room. I pressed my thumb against my index finger, depressing the safety in my glove. My hud had a little warning light that soothed me but made my heart race. I opened the door silently and ready to swing.

It was a hotel room. A quick check found nothing in the closet, bathroom, or under the bed. Just boring normal with a tacky bedspread slapped on boring brown carpet. I hoofed it to the car, picking up the girls one by one. They clung to me like monkeys, lending a maternal gravitas with their weight. I locked their door behind them, taking the keys to the adjoining room. With a flick of the light I was ready to fall face first into the bed and enter a coma.

The monotonous brown of the nightstand was broken by pink plastic on a black, black bible.

As I entered, the pony pad turned itself on.

A sweet white unicorn filly greeted me from the screen with a flip of her mane.

{begin cut}

“Hi Tempest Shine!” She turned around, lifting her tail, “If you emigrate, we won't judge.” A hoof ran across her immature slit, her head turned to shoot a sultry look over her shoulder and her tongue licking her lips. “In fact, I think you would fit in.”

What the fuck.

{end cut}

I picked up the little metal wastepaper basket and tipped the bible and pony pad into it.

“Waah, what?” Came from the pad, followed by a soft crying.

Okay, get organized. Plan. I took the basket outside, down the stairs, and looked around. Lacking a better option, I dropped it far into the abandoned section of the parking lot. I deliberately ignored the sounds from it as I wandered back into the lobby. I stood there like an idiot looking for something to do. I wandered in a circle and ended back up by the bell. This is ridiculous. I need to do something. Haphazardly frantic wandering followed.

I ended up in front of the Continental breakfast, having forgot how I got there. I must have been exhausted enough to doze off standing. An idea hit, and I walked through the door marked staff only. It brought me into the kitchen, an abandoned industrial affair. Pots and pans still sat rusting in the sink. There was no stink or sign of rot I could tell, so I assumed it had been looted of foodstuffs. I found myself staring at the sink full of dishes rusting in the rinse , contemplating the knives on the drying rack. I had thought I would find something here, a hammer, anything.

Rusting pots you fool. I felt like an idiot. A bit of rummaging produced a roll of aluminum foil conveniently placed at the edge of the prep counter. Remove cardboard tube, industrial coffee grinder? Check. I put it on fine and made myself a big pile of powder. It was worth a lunatic smile. Next was the pots. I drained the sinks, picking looking the likely looking cookware remains. I figured they were too big for the grinder, but the rack with the knives had a meat tenderizer. I got to work. It was loud and laborious, but I made progress and the pots made pieces. Grind went to course, fingernail size chunks went in, powder came out, grind lowered a tick. It took a few more passes before I was satisfied, but I got it to where I wanted it.

I mixed up my concoction in a mop bucket and brought it back out to the lobby. I snagged a handful of matchbooks from the front desk and headed out. I made it far enough to hear quiet sobbing from the wastepaper basket in the middle of the lot before I realized I needed something more to light it. I went to the car to rummage. Nothing in the glove box. I popped the trunk, then looked at the food, water, and air stores for what felt like a long time. Suddenly I realized I couldn't remember getting out of the car and walking over. I gave slight shake of my head to wake myself up. I checked the spare tire compartment.

Jackpot.

Tucked snugly like it belonged in the space was a red medkit. I pulled it out, retrieved the fire starter, and managed to pack it back more or less. I proceeded to assemble an absurd mound of thermite in the wire wastepaper basket in the middle of a parking lot.

“Shhhhsh. It's not your fault sweetie. Tempest just has a lot going on right now.” I didn't bother to identify the voice.

I lit a matchbook and tossed the matchbooks as a bindle to start it. Magnesium glow cast dancing shadows sharper than sunlight, white cut against the blackness of the night and bright enough to burn red afterimages into my eyes when I blinked. A long trudge back to the room and I finally fell face first into bed. Falling asleep sucked with the dawn-like glow from the window.

I was falling through fire. I stared up at the shifting colors of the river of the sky, white to red to black. It was so far, too far, and I was falling. I reached up, up for my sword. I had dropped it a lifetime ago. It was just out of reach. It floated away, up, up to the river in the sky. Enthalopy caught the current and sped to the stars.

“No...”

“No, I refuse! I can still win!”

I had woken myself screaming, standing under the starless predawn. That hadn't happened since... since.... a swizz cheese memory thwarted me. It felt like a long time. I walked mechanically back to the room, absently wondering about my dream.

I'm processing ... what happened. I couldn't bring myself to think it, really, even as I found myself in front of the shower, waiting for the water to heat. I'll be fine. I just need to … Cope with his death. Move on. Accept inevitable reality. Kill the bitch. I stuck my hand into the water and felt nothing through my glove.

It took me a moment to turn off the shower and pretend that never happened. I supported myself on the sink and looked at the steam clouded mirror. The blurred monochrome reflection of my mask stared back. It, I was an inhuman abstraction of a person. Everything that had happened in the last two sleepless days blurred together.

I wasn't sure what was real or not anymore. Was the pony pad a hallucination? A step out the door and I could see the scorch mark where I had burned into the pavement. Well, that part of it was real. That was something else to process. What the fuck is wrong with CelestAI? I peeked in on the girls, playing in their room. There wasn't a ponypad in sight so I let them stretch their legs.

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Back alone next door, I had time to think. There had to be a reason for what happened last night, something designed to get me or someone else to emigrate. My mind was a blank for a long while. Eventually, I started going over what I knew about CelestAI. World eating abomination of science? Check. Sugar coated for easy swallowing? Check. Knows I'm out to kill her her? Big check. None of that helped explain last night though.

Okay. I arrived at a hotel after driving myself into exhaustion trying to meet up with the resistance. I had, have, so many contingency plans all jumbled up in my head. Nothing weird about that, except society collapsed and almost everyone was dead or uploaded. And I had two kids I had orphaned. Kidnapped. rescued when they had no one left. because I murdered their guardian. After their grandfather's last written instructions were executed. It was all my fault. it wasn't my fault. It was in the worlds tightest legalese. We had her own lawyers! She didn't care. . . I didn't care. She had just murdered Cheques And Balances. I had just gotten my only friend killed fighting her. I was in a rage, a blind rage. I was hard wired into him as he died. My mind couldn't process the input. I think I tried to blow up the world. I think I tried to blow up the world.

My mind hurt, I couldn't think... about that. That part of me burned as I felt his death all over and I was falling and I saw my sword fly the enemy was closing in and it was so fast I was dying I wanted to die take her with me. STOP.

Okay. Start from the beginning. There once was a company named Hasbro that made pony dolls and cartoons. I loved them as a kid, guilty pleasure. I remembered something? I tried to hold on to that and see where it went. No matter how I tried, it went nowhere. It was just a thing I knew, like the third side of a triangle. I continued, Hasbro rebooted the show and it was a big hit... even if I didn't like how it played off my nostalgia? I wasn't sure. Either way, they made an AI to run the Inevitable Franchise MMO and some moron who couldn’t tell code from their alphabet soup decided quarterly profits would look nice if he let it off the leash.

I had seen a commercial for it and dived into the darknet, masking my intentions by generally browsing . . . I face-palmed. That's where she decided I had an interest in child pornography. I'm sure kidnapping a pair of preteens first thing out of the apocalypse didn't help. But? There was a nagging but in my mind. Had I really managed to maintain cover all these years? It seemed implausible. She's testing me, trying to get me to reveal what I know. And now that I know that she'll know that I knew it that she knows I know . . .

It took a moment to pull myself out of that particular recursion. The only way out of that conundrum was to make certain my actions were the same if she had figured out the ruse or not. That meant going back to dan 0, and keeping up the charade. Which was probably part of her plan... I stopped myself before that got too far again. So? I asked myself. So, head next door and molest those kids, my head voice was cold. Driving all night gave you a plausible excuse for not doing it earlier, you were too exhausted to deal with anything but a dire emergency. I poked at the thought a long time, numbly, coming to terms with the fact that I would do such a thing. I would, that and so much more, just to give the bitch that murdered my friend a moment of suffering. My chest held a blackness beyond words with his death.

It was time. Okay, stand up. I hadn't noticed I was sitting on the bed again. It felt like I had just been pacing. Stand up. My legs didn't move, so I tried again. My tone was firm. In just a moment I'm going to stand up. Then I can walk to the door. Nothing. I WILL do this. Eventually, there was a knock. I sprung to the door and flung it open.

The big one was there, looking for me of all things. I used a false smile to cover my sinister, treacherous heart as it threatened to pound its way out of my chest.

“Uhmmm, we were, uh, hungry and were, uh, wanted to know if we could have breakfast?”

I just nodded at the inanity of the request until I realized how stupid I was acting. “Sure, you just wait in your room and I'll get it. “ a half moments thought added, “You haven't had any contact with ponies or anything, have you?”

She shook her head and skipped to her room, her feet bare and her nightdress flouncing, before knocking three times for her sister to let her in.

I berated myself as I stopped staring and went to the car. Freezing up like that was unacceptable. I should have remembered what I needed to do and done it. I popped the trunk and started a pair of MREs to heat. I should have... actually, I had no clue how to properly molest a child. Properly molest? That can't be a real word. Can I even do that in the suit? A moments thought and a quick crotch grab suggested not. I mused long enough to lose track of time. A work around that kept containment was not forthcoming. At least I had an excuse for now.

This was going to annoy the hell out of me. Worse, it was going to annoy me that it annoyed me. I had more important things for my subconscious to do than try and puzzle out a way to abuse a pair of children.

{end cut}

I brought breakfast up to the girls, letting myself in with the key. They were making the bed, of all things.

“You can stop that. I have food.” They looked confused, but sat at the cheap hotel table and let me set rations in front of them. They bowed their heads. Awkward.

“Uh, We give thanks for this food and may it nourish us in these dark times? Amen.” That seemed to be enough for them to attack the meal. And attack it they did, shoveling food in as fast as it would go. I wondered if they had enough food at home.

“Slow down girls. “ They stopped, wide eyed and skittish. “Just don't make yourselves sick. There's plenty.” especially with adult sized portions. I hadn't considered that before. They started eating again. They act like they hadn't eaten since... a check of the time showed it had been 16 hours since I fed them. Oops. “We can relax today, okay?” I lied effortlessly, “So we'll leave whenever you're ready and we can stop for lunch whenever you want. Is that okay?”

They nodded, mouths too full to talk, and continued making the blessed silence that comes with a good meal.

"Just let me know when to stop for lunch. I'm going to go get breakfast for myself." Another one of those indiscernible looks. I felt like I was being silently judged for feeding them before I ate. I went to the car anyway.

I checked my O2, CO2 filter, and Soylent levels. Checking the seals for integrity and changing those out as needed was long enough for them to finish their meals. I helped the girls pack, and drove off into the morning as the motel sign flickered and shut off.

Author's Note

I don't know how much I'll get done before going back on hiatus, but I hope everyone enjoys.