Paradise Found- The Eighteenth Earth by Dr. Silas Hunter, Ph.D.by Captain HurricaneChaptersAcknowledgements and DedicationA Word on Interdimensional TravelCrossing OverEnglish, ponybucker! Do you speak it?!StuckAcknowledgements and DedicationI’d like to thank the Equestrian Academy of Natural and Magical Sciences for their insight and contribution to this text. I’d also like to thank Twilight Sparkle, who generously translated countless works of Equestrian history so that I may better understand their world. Finally, I want to thank you, the reader, who wanted to hear this story straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were. Dedicated to Rainbow Dash, who taught me how to think with my heart. A Word on Interdimensional TravelForeword I'm a scientist. I write in scientific terms. You'll have to forgive the drudgery that is the first chapter of my work. It is a necessary evil, so that you can glean some insight into how I came to become an explorer, a scientist, a xeno-anthropologist. Please, don't let my jargon scare or dissuade you from this story. It's hard for a physicist to relate to most humans. I've never been very close to people; no girlfriends, no dates, no friends or confidantes. With that in mind, I hope you can feel as I felt in those days. With all of Earth's billions upon billions of people, it is an awful thing to find that there is no one in this world that you can trust. That you can relate to. That you can love. Maybe that's why I do such a good job as an ambassador for Equestria, I suppose. If you ever get a chance to come over to this side, bring a copy of this book. The ladies and I will be sure to sign it for you. * I was 23 when I accidentally discovered the key to interdimensional travel. I had just finished with my masters in applied physics, and was hoping I could get a job with NASA, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California, or any other reputable scientific institute. Back in those days, I was still in Florida, and my scholarship provided only a meager stipend so that I afford some of the necessities of life. Ramen noodles were a default staple, which I supplemented with bits of frozen chicken when I could afford it. Which was maybe once or twice a month. I wasn’t quite as idealistic or secular then. I tinkered with a few physics based theories, most of them aimed at inventing profitable machines. I had been studying the way metal detectors work, their frequencies interlocking and scattering at various points in order to sense gold, silver, and other precious metals. If I could make a smaller, more portable detector, mining companies would buy the patent from me, and I would have all the disposable income I ever needed. Fortunately for me, the metal detector never worked. Instead, I ended up creating a device that formed a stable gateway between this Earth and a parallel world, a world I named E-2, obviously short for Earth 2. E-2 was slightly more advanced than Earth Prime, or E-1. I learned a lot about interdimensional travel, mostly about the dos and don’ts, in the months and years to follow. Do 1: DO send a probe before you jump into an interdimensional rift. Do 2: When you send a probe, DO make sure it has a Geiger counter, UV detector, and O2 sensor. Do 3: DO seal the entrance behind you so that you aren’t followed by pets like my damn cat that I spent two weeks searching for in a parallel Earth. Don’t 1: DON’T be surprised when you experience time dilation effects. Don’t 2: DON’T forget to install a chronometer on every probe. The hardest thing I found out about new inventions, like this interdimensional space-time breaching not metal detector I made, was that they need a name. A device as important as the one I just invented had to have a cool, yet descriptive name. So what exactly did this crazy device I just cooked up in my apartment do? It proved superstring theory correct. Check: superstring. It manipulated the space-time continuum. Check: manipulation. And it transmitted overlapping equalized frequencies that vibrated quantum particles in alternating dimensions. I came up with a blank for this one. At first I came up with Superstring Manipulation Harmonizer, but then I googled “SMH” and it came back with “shaking my head”. So that was out. So was Superstring Manipulation Transmitter, as SMT was an acronym for statistical machine translation or surface mount technology, two widely used terms in the applied physics world. I finally settled on Superstring Manipulation Equalizer. I decided to stick with that name because SME also stands for “Subject Matter Expert,” a term I found fitting to describe myself. Its operation is simple, really- at least from a quantum physicist's perspective. Each dimension has its own resonant quantum frequency. If you can lock on to that frequency, and match its vibration, you can form a stable wormhole from one dimension to the other. That’s exactly what I did on April 12, 2011. I’m sure you didn’t buy Paradise Found to hear about E-2. If you’re truly interested in reading about it, check out my other book, Many Worlds, from your local library. * Three years passed since I first traveled to E-2, the first parallel world ever discovered. In spring of 2014, I moved to the Northeast, where Dartmouth had accepted me for post graduate work. I still kept my superstring manipulation equalizer secret. There was no way of telling, in my mind at least, what shady quasi-governmental agencies or international terror syndicates could do with a device that could essentially punch a hole in space-time. My grandfather would always tell me, "It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you." I assure you. "They" really were out to get me. Now I consult for them. The devices I brought to Earth from E-2 earned me a little bit of money. After reverse engineering some of their entertainment devices, I patented each one and sold the patent for a tidy profit. I’m not terribly proud of that act, but it was necessary for me to be able to purchase things I needed to safely, and secretly, explore. Geiger counters are not cheap, by any means. Now try buying a Geiger counter through a third party, and you can see why I had to resort to immoral acts to keep my operating budget afloat. I continued searching for more parallel worlds, finding 16 parallel worlds total, including E-2. More than half of them were uninhabitable due to radiation or severe lack of oxygen. In one case, the world I found didn't even have an atmosphere. But I never gave up hope, and continued looking for habitable worlds, teeming with intelligent life forms. And of course, there was also E-11, with an 18:1 time dilation ratio. I spent about three days there, only to come back and find that two months had passed on Earth Prime. Try explaining to your parents why you haven't called or emailed in two months. Not fun. * July 18, 2014, was the day I discovered E-18, or Equus, as the natives refer to their planet. I had been running a subharmonic scan from my basement laboratory, looking for new extradimensional worlds. After the scan finished, I calibrated my probe to my remote controller, tested all fourteen buttons rigorously, and performed check after check after check of the probe's electrical systems. The most important part of my explorations, next to my equalizer, is the probe. I retrofitted an electric golf cart and installed various sensors, cameras, and electronics to it, so that I wouldn’t blindly stumble into a radioactive wasteland or a world where there is no more ozone layer. I directed the probe’s activities remotely using a video game controller that I enhanced with powerful radio transmitters and receivers. I turned on one system after another, preparing the probe for its journey into this new dimension I found. It would be the seventeenth parallel Earth I’ve found in the last 3 years. I jotted down the frequency and coordinates in a notebook, where I kept an account of technical details too myriad to remember. The probe whirred to life, lights flashing as various sensors began their startup sequence. I checked each sensor’s output on my laptop, each gauge on the computer’s screen providing a different value for over thirty variables. Temperature, UV radiation, gamma radiation, relative humidity, chronological displacement, air quality, biomass…you name it. The probe was calibrated for terrestrial environments- those that can support human life. Deviations from what I programmed to be the norm would be detected and relayed back to my workstation. Based on those readings, I had two options. If the parallel world had a suitable environment, I would explore further. If not, I would index that world’s frequency into my database as a “DNA,” or Do Not Access. With more than a little anxiety, I initialized the portal activation process. The equalizer hummed noisily in my hands as the forces of time and space rippled before me. The room flared with bright light as the wormhole began to coalesce from thin air. Ten feet in diameter, the portal was large enough to accommodate a medium sized car…or a golf cart loaded with sensors. Exchanging my equalizer for the probe controller, I watched on my computer screen as the cart crossed the event horizon of the portal. The journey always played havoc with the sensitive electronics on board, so it was usually a three to five minute wait until the probe stabilized and could begin transmitting data. After a tortuous handful of minutes, I could finally see through the eyes of my probe. Trees, grass, and blue sky were a familiar sight. I cross checked the sensor data: comparable humidity, air quality, and gravitational constant. I ran a program on my computer that would evaluate each input and determine how close it was to Earth’s environment. It returned a 98.4% match. I was more than satisfied with the similarities to Earth. The probe continued gathering data, streaming millions of bytes of information on the new world surrounding it. I continued moving the probe forward, just over a gently rising hill. Jackpot! Some kind of barn stood straight ahead, not more than a half a mile away. Trees formed straight lines in an unnatural manner; I could only guess it was a farm or other agricultural endeavor. I zoomed in with my camera lens, hoping to see human, or humanoid, inhabitants. All I could make out from this distance was a blurry figure moving near the barn and what appeared to be a house. The probe slowly inched closer, the images of whatever it was I saw moving becoming sharper with every new minute. It was a horse. It didn’t seem like the colors were right though. Most horses I had seen had brown, black, or white coats. This one’s coat was a deep red color, like a fire engine or my Swingline stapler. I chalked it up to the contrast of the camera, and made a mental note to install better ones when the probe returned. I noticed the horse was now looking in the direction of the camera. It stood motionless for several minutes. While I was checking my solar array voltages, it must have trotted in to the barn structure, and a different colored horse came out acting exactly the same as the other reddish horse did. Its hair seemed out of place; it almost looked as if this four legged animal was wearing a hat. Against my better judgment, I moved the probe forward, trying to get a better look at these two creatures, hoping that I could find whatever farmer was responsible for them. Sure enough, it did appear that this horse was wearing a hat. I laughed for a few seconds, figuring that at the very least, there’s someone in this alternate dimension with a sense of humor. I've seen pictures online of dogs and cats wearing various costumes: hats, moustaches, fur coats, the works. But there was something downright hilarious to seeing a horse wearing a cowboy hat. I stopped laughing when I saw the yellowish brown horse trotting towards the probe. Curiosity isn’t exactly a trait that horses are known to possess. I, however, possess curiosity by the bucketful. I watched my monitor closely as the creature approached. Its mane was tied back in a ponytail, and I could see a brand that looked like apples on the horse’s haunch. It approached the probe cautiously, circling it once before stopping. My initial assessment of the creatures was inaccurate. They were similar in some ways to horses. This one’s eyes, though, seemed much too big to belong to a regular horse. I reasoned that it must be an evolutionary adaptation to low light conditions. The not-horse creature stood there for several moments, before taking off its hat, holding it with its hooves. Crossing OverI blinked. Then I blinked again. The horse thing was definitely holding a cowboy hat. In a hoof. Which it then promptly placed back on its head. It was eyeing my probe warily, slowly circling it like a shark would circle a wounded fish. I assumed the poor beast was hungry. Its jaws moved in a slow chomping motion, as though it intended to make a meal of the ninety-something thousand dollar probe. I wasn’t going to have that. I didn't understand how a horse could manipulate a hat, but I was more than a little unnerved. Next dimension please! Slowly shifting the probe in reverse, I carefully eased the tension on the brakes and backed the electronics laden golf cart down the hilly mound. I hadn’t expected to startle the damn horse, but it leaped back about four feet anyway. As the cart rolled back down beyond the hill’s crest, I lost track of the yellowish creature. Just as well anyway. I didn’t want to take a chance on it making a snack out of a radio antenna or power conduit. I hastily carried out a three point turn, pointing the front of the probe back to my still open wormhole. I had hardly inched forward when I found my controls unresponsive. I was able to move backward, but once I reversed, I couldn’t go forward again. I checked the camera feeds. It seemed that the rear feed was nothing but static, and the front feed showed me green grass, blue sky, and tracks that I knew would lead the probe back to safety. At this point I was on the verge of panic. I accelerated the probe to its maximum, trying in vain to overcome whatever force held it in place. By this point, I couldn’t even move backward. *ALERT* *ALERT* *ALERT* The automated systems indicated a motor malfunction. Damn it. I mentally worked through about twenty different hypothetical situations, each of them leading me to conclude that the probe had gotten stuck in a pothole I must had missed on the climb up the hill. I slammed my hands against my solid oak desk in frustration. Several agonizing seconds later, I regretted my passively aggressive outburst, shaking my hands like a manic cheerleader who drank two or three too many energy drinks before the big game. It took months of work and thousands of dollars to build my damned probe. I had a repair kit, but a golf cart motor would take time to repair. Or worse, replace. By then, I had crossed from the “verge of panic” phase into “nuclear reactor meltdown” phase. Eventually, I leveled out, and came back down to a level of mildly anxious calm. My clearest thoughts came to me when I was mildly, anxiously, calm. I repeated that mantra several times over the course of the next two minutes. Mildly, anxiously, calm. The plan for retrieving my probe came thankfully quickly. Rope. Crowbar. Repair kit. Equalizer. Controller. Coat. The coat came on first. Next, I grabbed a pile of nylon rope that was frequently used to fasten extra cargo to the probe. The probe controller went in one pocket, while the equalizer went in another. I grabbed the repair kit off the shelf, checking for all the necessary doodads and gadgets, like fuses, wrenches, extra wire, and my red Swingline stapler. The crowbar came last. I carried it in my left hand, while the repair kit was firmly in my right. I figured I might need the extra leverage a crowbar could give me if the cart really was stuck. If not, at least I’d have something to swing around and scare off the wildlife. Loaded for bear with gear, I breathed in one final gasp of earthly air…..and stepped through the luminescent portal. Remember earlier when I wrote that my probe’s electronics wouldn’t work for about three to five minutes after traveling to another dimension? That same effect happened to me, although it expressed itself in different ways. While my electronics would just stop working, I’d become racked with waves of nausea accompanied by a gonglike ringing in my ears. In other words, I’d stop working. Luckily, the paralysis lasts for only a short time. But when you’re in an unknown environment, and you have no idea who (or what) is out there, three minutes might as well be eternity. I was on my hands and knees retching nearly immediately. My head throbbed with pain that made the world’s worst migraine seem benign in comparison. The wormhole still shimmered behind me. I fumbled in my pocket for the equalizer, depressing the switch that would change the quantum spin from positive to negative and close the vortex’s gaping maw. I couldn’t risk someone seeing the portal while I was here. I was almost too late. I could hear the sound of two people approaching me at full speed. I feebly attempted to get to my feet, swinging my crowbar in futile defense. A blur passed. Agonizing jolts coursed up my hand to my elbow, forcing me to drop the crowbar. For the second time that day, I flailed my hand wildly about, trying to ease the ache from an already sore appendage. I issued an inhuman howl of pain, but it alleviated nothing. I didn’t see the ropes wrap around me until several seconds later. Wincing, and struggling with every ounce of resistance left in my bedraggled body, I fought against my unknown oppressor until a hard knock landed into my head. As blackness seeped into my vision and I started drifting into a concussion induced sleep, I could have swore I heard a young woman with a country accent say, “What the buck are you?” * Conciousness returned to me eventually, one eye at a time. The unpleasant metallic taste of blood contrasted sharply with the smell of the air around me. It smelled like apples and fresh grass in here. It was dark, but I could discern the shape of hay bales, crates full of apples, and various farm implements. I had to have been in that barn structure I saw a few minutes…or was it hours?....ago. My heatbeat raced excitedly as I saw my probe, undamaged, in an otherwise empty area of the structure. I knew that my probe couldn’t have been in here for very long. All of the probe’s systems were battery powered; the battery was charged by exposure to sunlight. The fiasco with the motor most likely drained the batteries heavily; however, most of the onboard sensors were still on and active, streaming data into nowhere. Then I saw a thick fibrous rope tied around the probe’s frame. I didn’t know what to make of that at first. I was finding it somewhat difficult to think, courtesy of the recent traumatic brain injury. My head was still killing me, and at this point I would have been glad if the only physical problems I had were caused by interdimensional travel. It wasn’t until I tried to reach for my probe controller that I noticed the ropes binding my feet, legs, arms, and shoulders. Though I tried to loosen the bonds, they weren’t budging at all. My struggle against the restraints only served to make me tired, and I gave up after a ten minute session of Man Vs. Rope. Voices from outside the barn drifted inward, and I struggled to glean some meaning from their words. I could only make out every other phrase. Big Mac, pinky, funny business, and discord were the only ones I could make sense of. I was amused by the fact that there is a McDonald’s in this world too…the more things change, the more they stay the same. I figured they were talking about me or my injuries, so I checked out my own pinkies. They appeared to move normally, although my left hand still hurt like hell. I wasn’t sure what discord meant, but I expected I would find out sooner or later. The barn door creaked open. Temporarily blinded by the new source of light, I saw the shadow of someone in the doorway. “Now see, Fluttershy, I dun told ya, it ain’t from around here. Believe me now?” It sounded kind of like that woman I heard earlier. A new voice chimed up. “My goodness. You’re right but, I don’t know where the poor frightened thing must have came from.” “Poor? Frightened thang? It nearly took my gosh durn head off with a big metal stick!” “Probably because it was frightened….” My eyes adjusted to the sunlight beaming into the room as the source of the country voice walked into the barn. Or rather, trotted. It was the yellow-brown horse from earlier. With that comedic hat. I could do nothing but cackle madly, laughing the laugh of a man who was certain his grip on sanity had been lost for good. The country woman voiced horse stood its ground. As I finished my cacophony of madness, the shattered fragments of my psyche reassembled themselves post haste. The horse wasn’t so much horse-sized, though; it was more like a pony. Its eyes were level with mine. I knew it was staring hard, trying to figure out just what the hell she was doing bringing a psychotic interdimensional alien into her home. I could have said a thousand different things, a thousand thousand other words than the ones I spoke, but the first ever greeting, from a human, to an Equestrian, was, “HOW ARE YOU SPEAKING ENGLISH?!” Author's Note If you're going to give my story a thumbs down, do two things first. Post helpful, constructive criticism, so that I can improve the story and the quality of my writing overall. I really do want to have a great story that engages the readers. If you haven't written a story of your own, try doing so first before you anonymously disapprove of mine. Otherwise, enjoy! English, ponybucker! Do you speak it?!English, ponybucker! Do you speak it?! “HOW ARE YOU SPEAKING ENGLISH?!” The pony’s eyes widened, reeling back in shock. I guessed it didn’t expect me to speak their language any more than I was expecting to understand theirs. “TWILIGHT!!!!” The golden-brown pony ran screaming into the open air outside, sharply curving left at the barn door’s exit. It wasn’t long before a different pony’s face crept into the barn’s doorway. It looked at me. I didn’t even have time to see what it looked like before it ducked back out of sight. I called out. “You don’t have to be scared of m…..” The sound disappeared from the air, nothing but silence dominating the poorly lit barn. I didn’t know what the hell was happening, and I didn’t want to know. My scientific explanation was binaural damage secondary to post concussive injury. In English, I went deaf from my concussion. It seemed a plausible enough theory to me. Except for the unicorn that now crept toward me. This was most likely the Twilight character that Ms. Kickme Cowboy (I still call her that nickname; she still kicks my ass) was talking about. It cautiously entered the barn, staring me down like I was a serial murderer. Out of all of humanity, I am the only one who can say I was damn near scared to death by a unicorn. In that one second that I was aware of it, and it was aware of me, I prayed to a thousand gods from a hundred civilizations that the stories and myths of unicorns was true- that they were noble creatures who were pure of heart. The biggest problem I had with that theory, though, was that this particular purple one looked positively pissed off. I eventually lost the staring contest, my eyes blinking in succession to try and dispel this all too real figment that would not go away. It was making me uncomfortable. Besides the fact that I was trussed up in ropes, I really did not like the way it seemed to pierce into my soul with its mind-melting laser vision. I tried to speak to it, to say hello, to introduce myself, but still I heard nothing. I saw the unicorn’s horn glow with light, later discovering that this was a telltale indication of magic being used. That’s right. Magic. It’s not much more complicated than quantum physics. Hell, I know a few of the simpler spells now. But yes, I was in a barn, where a unicorn was casting magic spells on me. The sounds of the air eventually returned, accompanied by a slowly rising crescendo of a high pitched electronic whine. The noise eventually stopped, but it did little to assuage my nerves. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. Within seconds, the acrid smell of burning electronics overpowered my nostrils. I glanced over at my probe, but I didn’t see anything unusual that would indicate an electrical malfunction. Then it hit me. My equalizer…the key to going home…it felt strangely warm in my pocket. Something must have overloaded the circuits. The unicorn broke its silence, covering its own muzzle with a hoof. “What’s that awful smell?” The voice was unmistakably female. “Oh, that’s nothing. It just means I lost MY ONLY WAY OF GETTING HOME NOW!” I regretted my overreaction almost immediately. The Twilight unicorn recoiled slightly, but still seemed determined in its visual showdown with me. She let out a sigh. “My friends and I really don’t know what you are or where you come from. But if you keep yelling, you’ll stay tied up even longer. Now I have some questions, and you’ll give answers. If you try any magic tricks, or lie to me, I know some pretty good ways of dealing with you. Don’t. Test. Me.” Her eyes stayed locked on mine until she pulled out a book from what appeared to be thin air. A feather dipped into a vial of ink also popped into existence. With the quill floating in midair, one end dipped into the ink, and it leaped with tiny flourishes across the book's pages. Scribbles could be heard from where she stood about twenty feet away. “The other horse implied that you were the Twilight.” I tried to find any reaction to me calling what I thought was her name. She stayed focused on the book. I swore she must have been smiling. “Twilight Sparkle. Please just call me Twilight.” “All right. I’m Silas. Silas Hunter.” “You speak Equestrian with no accent. What part of the world are you from?” “I’m from….the South.” “Okay.” A few more notes scribbled themselves down. “What kind of thing do you call yourself or others like you?” I saw no reason with being dishonest. “I’m a human being.” I heard her laugh. It was a weird, snorting chortle. I could never duplicate that sound in a thousand years if I tried. “What’s so funny about that?” She still hadn’t really gained her composure. It took her a little while before she could really answer. “Well, you can’t possibly be a human being. Humans are nothing more than mythological creatures from pony history and bedtime stories cooked up to scare little foals. Humans aren’t scientifically possible…you aren’t scientifically possible!” She smiled a little, pointing a (manicured?) hoof at me and seeming smugly satisfied. “Here I am. In the flesh. You know, where I come from, unicorns aren’t real…I thought they were make believe, too.” She shot me a disbelieving glance. I had the nagging feeling that I might have offended her. But by this point I was on the verge of tears, in pain, and fearful that I would never see the Earth I knew again. “I have no reason to lie to you, Twilight. I believe in you. And I’ll tell you anything you want to know, prove I’m a human…everything. All I ask is that you believe in me. And please, please untie me.” I don’t think I convinced her. Sparkle pony called for Applejack. I remember thinking that these creatures had some weird ass names, but my name probably sounded foreign to them, too. The apple cowpony came in, settling beside Twilight and giving me the same stares Twilight had assaulted me with earlier. “I heard you talking to Twilight about yer name. So what kinda hunter are you, again?” “I don’t hunt anything. My family name is Hunter. My personal name is Silas.” “Well, howdy, Silos. You sure gave me ‘n my kin a fright with your doohickiethangywat over yonder.” She pointed at my probe. “It’s Silas.” “And, uh, plum sorry ‘bout the knock on your noggin.” She raised her hoof, pointing it at her own head. “No hard feelin’s?” “Not really, but can you let me loose? The ropes are beginning to chafe, and I’m a little thirsty.” “Before I untie ya, I gotta know somethin’. Do ya eat ponies?” She glared menacingly at me, one eye half-closed in a pseudo squint. A four foot pony was giving me the stink eye. I let out a sigh. “No, I don’t eat ponies. I eat fried potatoes, burgers, and spaghetti.” She glanced over at Twilight, who nodded in silent approval. The pony tugged on the ropes on my hands, and then my torso. Soon my whole body was free from restraint. Applejack still stood close to me, her stance guarded. “Ya harm a hair on anypony,” Applejack growled under her breath, “and you’ll learn just how fast I can make a noose.” The color drained from my face as I nodded, indicated my understanding. “Good!” Applejack smiled at me, a deep, genuine smile. “Welcome to Ponyville!” Author's Note You'll find that the protagonist is a lot less scientific, and a bit more informal. Let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks for reading! StuckAuthor's Note If you've got a weak stomach, don't eat anything before reading this chapter. The main character throws up. Just a warning. As always, please leave me feedback, & thanks for reading! Stuck My limbs felt heavier than ever after Applejack released me from my bonds. Thirst, fatigue, confusion, and depression hit me like a steroid-infused nightclub bouncer. I slid down to the floor, my back supported by the beam that I had been tied to just minutes before. “What’s wrong?” I noted the concern in Twilight’s voice. She sounded curious, yet motherly at once. My body rejected everything. The sights, the sounds, the smells. I doubled over, hands flat on the ground while vertigo and nausea assaulted me mercilessly. That all too familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach rushed up, and whatever was left of my dinner spewed out of my mouth at lightning speed. A small pile of undigested ramen mingled with the dirt and hay occupying the barn floor. “Weak stomach. Check!” I heard the furious scribbles of quills on parchment. I wondered if the unicorn was describing the process of human emesis in lurid detail, making me laugh a little on the inside. I felt somewhat better, but the pain in my wrists, ankles, hands and head still bothered me. Struggling against those ropes caused a lot of chafing; my raw skin was tender to the touch. Applejack left and returned shortly, accompanied by a third pony. The handle of a bucket was securely gripped in this new pony’s mouth. There was some kind of liquid in it, likely water. This new pony sported a bright yellow coat of fur; her mane and tail were a feminine pink. But what really blew my mind was the pair of wings gracing each side of the slender mare. A winged horse. Pegasus. Christ. It was like I was living in a fairy tale. The new horse sat the bucket on the ground next to me, avoiding my messy regurgitation. “Sit up, please, mister human. I know you must be really sick…and frightened.” Well, this must have been the source of the other voice talking to Applejack. This new pony, this pegasus, sounded like the stereotypical nurse. “I heard you were thirsty, so I brought some well water. It’s good for you.” I scooped water from the bucket with my hands, forming an improvised drinking vessel. It didn’t work out, though, and I eventually just picked up the bucket with both hands. I rinsed my mouth out first, spitting out the unpleasant aftertaste of bile. This was pretty damn good water. I was a kind of connoisseur of bottled water, but not even artisanal spring waters were as cool or crisp as this. My thirst quenched, I stood on two feet again. My sense of balance had been restored, and although I still felt unnerved, I was oriented and alert. “Thank you, miss…?” The yellow pegasus shifted somewhat uncomfortably, her eyes gazing downward. “Fluttershy.” “Did you say, ‘Butterfly’?” I figured that’s what she said. She had some kind of butterfly tattoo or brand on her rump. For a moment, I thought it was some kind of a “tramp stamp” like the ones that are so popular among today’s youth. “Flutter…shy”. Her voice barely registered above a whisper. I decided not to pry further. “Oh. Okay, then.” Applejack took the initiative and stepped forward. “Fluttershy here is jus’ a teeny bit timid, but don’t worry, Silos, she’ll get ya fixed right up. Right, sugarcube?” Applejack gently nudged her pink haired friend. Fluttershy nodded in emphatic acknowledgement. She tenderly treated my rope burns, gentle yet firm in applying some kind of ointment and then gauze. I didn’t know what to think about this situation. One minute I was hog-tied, the next they had a nurse pony treating my wounds like I was a child or sibling. This place was getting weirder by the moment. “I appreciate your help, I really do. But I need to see if I can salvage my equipment…return back to where I came from.” Twilight chimed in. “Is this your equipment?” She walked over to my probe, her hoof level with one of the cameras. “It seems okay to me.” “Um, not specifically.” I pulled out my equalizer, the telltale stench of fried capacitors and transistors making it abundantly clear I wasn’t going anywhere for a while. “This is how I got here. It uses a….form of magic to open doorways to other worlds. But something happened to it.” The lithium ion battery had damn near melted. The amplifier circuits were fused; and as I suspected, every capacitor had overloaded and popped. I opened my tool kit, pulling out various bits, pieces, and tools. Although I had a lot of supplies to fix the probe, nothing in here would help me repair the equalizer. Not even my red Swingline stapler. So I was stuck. “I don’t suppose you have a Radio Shack?” Silence. “Capacitors?” Twilight and company shook their heads, the negative response explicit. The unicorn stepped towards me. “I want to know everything about you and your, um, magic, Silas. But the timing of your arrival is…let’s say, interesting. The princesses need to know about this. I’m sorry if I seem rude, but I have to leave. You’re in good hooves with Applejack and Fluttershy. I'll be back later. I promise. I want to help you.” Her horn glowed again, and with a bright flash, she was gone. “Hey, where the hell did she go?” I checked out the spot where she was. I even peered outside of the barn. She just…vanished. “Back home, prob’ly.” Applejack seemed dismissive. “Let me guess: magic?” “Ayup.” I was thoroughly impressed. Teleportation is a different sort of beast altogether from the technology I used. I made a mental note to ask how that worked when we met again. “As long as you’re here, Fluttershy, you might as well join us for dinner.” Applejack gestured her head toward the farmhouse. “Oh, I’d love to! Angel and the others will get super mad if I don’t have their dinner ready soon, though, so I’ll go feed them and join you for supper, if that’s okay.” Fluttershy moved closer to the barn’s exit. “All right. Ah understand. But at the very least, stop by Rarity’s place and tell her to go talk with Twi. O’ course, she’s also invited ta supper. And don’t tell her about our…” She looked back to me, “…guest, yet. Twilight’ll take care o’ that.” “You can count on me.” Fluttershy took off in a westernly direction, humming gaily as she trotted off over the hills. I was alone with cowboy pony. She took off her hat again, wiping invisible sweat away from her brow. “No offense, Silos, but ya could use some cleanin’ up. Yer not exactly fresh as a spring day…ah reckon a shower would do ya some mighty good.” “My name is Silas.” “Uh-huh. Let’s get ya in the shower.” These ponies were just full of surprises at every turn. Magic. Showers. Teleportation. I half expected leprechauns and fairies to start dancing their way out of the trees, but no Celtic inspired creatures were to be found. * Applejack’s farmhouse seemed fairly rustic. It was like I stepped into the painting of that farmer holding a pitchfork. “Big Mac, Apple Bloom, we’ve got a guest.” The pony’s voice reverberated through the house, and heavy steps came back in reply. “Ah sent Apple Bloom out to play, sis. Ya take care of that thing?” The voice I heard was male; his drawl almost comedic. “It’s a he. But yup, it’s all right. Ain’t gonna bite, ah think.” The red horse from before greeted me at the bottom of the staircase. “Big Macintosh. But call me Big Mac.” I laughed a little; that couldn’t be helped. “I’m sorry, Big Mac. It’s just that, where I’m from, there are sandwiches called ‘Big Macs’.” I knew I wouldn’t be encountering any fast food burger joints anytime soon. It was his turn to laugh. “Well, fancy that. That ought to be kinda funny. Maybe you could make me one o’ them; Big Mac eatin’ a Big Mac. Sounds like a hoot!” I liked this guy. Or horse. Or whatever. Applejack cut him off. “Sorry Mac, but Shy Lass here needs a shower. If’n ya don’t mind, would you go ahead and get the table ready fer supper?” “Ahyup.” “Thank ya kindly.” The upstairs bathroom was a nice affair. The smells of soaps, shampoos, and conditioners reminded me of old people, for some reason. “Ah’m gonna go ahead and wash yer clothes for ya. It’s the least I can do after wrasslin’ ya in the dirt and hogtyin’ ya in my barn.” “That’s kind of you Applejack.” Looking down at my clothes, I could see they were pretty nasty…dirt, hay, and something reminiscent of regurgitated ramen were staining my jeans and t-shirt. “I’ll leave them for you outside the door.” I stripped off my shirt and pants, cracking the door slightly to throw my soiled garments into the hallway. I kept my boxers with me for modesty’s sake. Although this bathroom had a mirror, I had to slightly stoop in order to see myself. Blood had caked one side of my face; my light brown hair was in complete disarray. It was clear that a shower was warranted. I have to say that was the best shower I have ever taken in my life. The water was the perfect temperature; the soap fresh smelling with notes of mint and lavender. I felt almost as though I’d never taken a shower in my life before. It was seriously that refreshing. The blood and grime that had marred my face was gone, leaving a clean twenty two year old's face in its stead. I threw my boxers back on after drying myself. I was a little concerned about leaving the bathroom in its original state; the ponies were certainly hospitable, but I didn’t want to impose more than I already had. I cleaned up behind myself, soaking up an errant puddle with my bathtowel. Applejack’s timing was impeccable. She held my neatly folded shirt and pants in her hoof, which was fantastic. Although I wasn’t exactly thrilled about her barging in on me while I was still half naked. Only my boxers kept me from total nudity. “I’m not dressed.” “Ayup. Ah can see that. And yer point?” “I’m sorry. Where I’m from, we are clothed unless we are sleeping or in the shower. People who go around without clothing are seen as, uh…not all there.” “Loco in the coco?” Applejack’s hoof twirled around her head, her eyes spinning in circles. I guess some things are universal. I chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it.” “Supper’s nearly ready. Come on down. Got a few friends ya should meet.” * The rest of the Apple family, three ponies I hadn’t met, and a dragon crowded around the wide dinner table, each of them greeting me in their own fashion. There was Rarity, the marshmallow unicorn fashionista. She seemed fascinated by my clothing, even though it was just a t-shirt and jeans. Rainbow Dash, the boastful pegasus whose mane was, as her name implied, rainbow colored, didn’t really seem all that impressed with me. Pinkie Pie unsettled me a little; I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way she smelled like cotton candy. Apple Bloom, Applejack's younger sister, was the most eager of the bunch to meet me. Although the youngest at the dinner table, she had more questions about me than Twilight…I think. Granny Smith didn’t exactly have the best of vision. I guess I was a little flattered when she told me I was the most polite minotaur she ever met. Big Mac seemed pretty quiet and introspective throughout dinner, although he would inject a well-timed “Nope” when called for. Fluttershy was even more quiet than Big Mac. She scarcely said anything all night, except asking for a slice of apple pie. Spike interested me the most. Twilight introduced him as a baby dragon, to which he corrected her, “Juvenile dragon.” Everyone at the table got a kick out of that, excepting Twilight, who was not amused. Everything at supper was pretty much made with apples. Applesauce, apple fritters, apple waffles, and apple pie. It was all deliciously amazing. I think even the famously hypercritical chef Gordon Ramsay would be rendered speechless by the quality of the food. After about an hour or so of delicious food and conversation, I had a pretty clear impression of each of the ponies, and dragon, I met. They all seemed oddly relaxed and comfortable in the presence of something from outside their world. When dinner was over, I insisted on helping clear the plates. It only felt right to return the hospitality I was shown in kind by the Apple clan. With Big Mac’s assistance, the dishes were all cleaned and dried within a matter of minutes. “Big Mac, kindly see ta Apple Bloom getting tucked in bed.” Applejack stepped away from her chair, placing it back underneath the table. The other young ponies did likewise. The deep red pony led his little sister upstairs, while the other ponies (and Spike) looked at me, as if they were waiting for my next magic trick. The wizened Granny Smith called out to me, heaping praise upon praise as she laid a firm hoof on my shoulder. “Ye’ve been a great help, Sigh Loss. Reckon you make yer minotaur fam’ly right proud of ye. And ye can tell ‘em Granny Smith dun said so.” “Thank you, Granny. I’ll…let them know.” “Sorry, Granny, but I’ve got ta steal him away from ya. He’s got somethin' ta show us. Outside.” “Well, it was a right pleasure to meet ya, Sigh Loss, even if ya ain’t got no hairs. I’m off ta bed mahself; a spry old pony like me needs all the beauty sleep she can git.” “G’night, Granny.” Applejack waved off her grandmother as she made her way upstairs. Rarity moved to my side, her purple mane bouncing with every step she took forward. “So, darling, show us this hulking metal chariot that brought you here to our…humble little town.” “I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure what you are talking about…” Twilight interrupted me midthought. “It’s the thing in the barn. What did you call it again? An Equinizer?” “Oh, that. I might as well explain it to you…I’m kind of stuck here, now.” I was followed by a herd of ponies (plus Spike) as we made our way out of the house and back to the barn. I guessed that either Big Mac or Applejack had cleaned up the mess I’d made already. The bucket of water had been emptied onto the ground, washing away the sharp smell of bile. “Ooooh, lights!” A blur of pink rushed through the barn doors, stopping only inches from the probe’s surface. “What’s this, what’s this, shiny, shiny!” Pinkie Pie stood transfixed by the probe’s still flashing lights. “Hey, look everypony! There’s cameras!” A hundred different silly faces were captured by the probe, every image converted into bits and bytes and transmitted through the air into nothingness. “Yeah, that’s cool and all, but how did you get here?” The blue pegasus chimed in, boredom underlining her tone. “Pinkie, please don’t touch anything. It…might be dangerous. I don’t know.” The hyperactive pink mare looked just a little sad, trotting back toward the rest of the coterie. I shared what I knew about interdimensional travel…the specifics of how I found their world. Twilight was furiously taking notes, hanging on to every word I said. “Each dimension has its own inherent vibrational pattern. This is called frequency. I use a specialized tool that I call an equalizer to ‘tune in’ to that frequency. Once I generate enough power, I can step through from my world, to any other.” The group of ponies (and dragon!) looked confused. Twilight was the sole exception; her face appeared more inquisitive than stupefied. “Twilight, may I get a few sheets of paper and a quill, please?” She magically ripped out a few sheets, looking both annoyed and appalled that she had to mutilate part of her notebook. I drew circles on each of the pieces of parchment, stacking them together for my demonstration. “Each of these circles represents a different world. Each world is roughly the same size. This top sheet represents your world, Equus. The bottom represents the world I come from. Earth.” “Each sheet of paper is a dimension of the universe. There may be hundreds of these…thousands even. Each one slightly different than the other.” I held the two sheets of paper that represented Equus and Earth apart, my arms spreading wide. “Normally, there is no way to travel from my world to this one. They’re so far apart.” I brought the two sheets of paper together again. “To get here, I basically make a tunnel from my world, to yours, that lasts just long enough for me to see what’s on the other side and take a look around.” I speared the quill through the center of both sheets of paper, driving my point home. I looked through the hole I just poked, my eye settling on Rainbow Dash. “When I create this tunnel, I first send a device through. This device gathers information about the world around it. The air, the wind, the temperature…all these things I test and check. This,” I gestured toward the probe, “is that device.” Applejack chimed in. “So that means…” “When I saw a pony wearing a hat through the camera, I wasn’t sure what to think. That pony galloped over to my probe, looked it over, and then took its hat off with its hoof. In my world, horses just cannot do such things. I tried to bring my probe back through the tunnel, but somehow it got stuck and couldn’t move.” I glanced at Applejack; I knew she knew what happened. “It took a lot of time and money to build that probe. So I went through the tunnel, determined to get my probe unstuck, bring it home, and never look back on this world again. But coming to a new world makes you sick for a short time. It disorients you. I barely had time to close the tunnel before I thought I was under attack by one of the ‘natives’. Something knocked the crowbar out of my hand, hit me on the head, and then I awoke in here, tied up with rope.” “Cool story, bro. So really, what part of Equestria are you from?” Rainbow Dash turned her head to the side quizzically. Five facehooves, a faceclaw, and a facepalm later, Twilight gently chided her prismatic pal. “Weren’t you listening, Dash? He’s from another world. Not Equestria. Not Equus. Earth.” The pegasus blushed furiously, the light pink of her face a sharp contrast to the rest of her blue coat. “Oh yeah, I heard you talking about that. The paper thing. Heh, heh, nevermind me…I’m just gonna sit down and keep my muzzle closed now.” “Shortly after I woke up, I started talking, and then things went silent. After the silence lifted, my equalizer, the device that makes a tunnel from my world to yours, kind of destroyed itself. “So here I am. Stuck for now, at least.”
Acknowledgements and DedicationI’d like to thank the Equestrian Academy of Natural and Magical Sciences for their insight and contribution to this text. I’d also like to thank Twilight Sparkle, who generously translated countless works of Equestrian history so that I may better understand their world. Finally, I want to thank you, the reader, who wanted to hear this story straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were. Dedicated to Rainbow Dash, who taught me how to think with my heart.
A Word on Interdimensional TravelForeword I'm a scientist. I write in scientific terms. You'll have to forgive the drudgery that is the first chapter of my work. It is a necessary evil, so that you can glean some insight into how I came to become an explorer, a scientist, a xeno-anthropologist. Please, don't let my jargon scare or dissuade you from this story. It's hard for a physicist to relate to most humans. I've never been very close to people; no girlfriends, no dates, no friends or confidantes. With that in mind, I hope you can feel as I felt in those days. With all of Earth's billions upon billions of people, it is an awful thing to find that there is no one in this world that you can trust. That you can relate to. That you can love. Maybe that's why I do such a good job as an ambassador for Equestria, I suppose. If you ever get a chance to come over to this side, bring a copy of this book. The ladies and I will be sure to sign it for you. * I was 23 when I accidentally discovered the key to interdimensional travel. I had just finished with my masters in applied physics, and was hoping I could get a job with NASA, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California, or any other reputable scientific institute. Back in those days, I was still in Florida, and my scholarship provided only a meager stipend so that I afford some of the necessities of life. Ramen noodles were a default staple, which I supplemented with bits of frozen chicken when I could afford it. Which was maybe once or twice a month. I wasn’t quite as idealistic or secular then. I tinkered with a few physics based theories, most of them aimed at inventing profitable machines. I had been studying the way metal detectors work, their frequencies interlocking and scattering at various points in order to sense gold, silver, and other precious metals. If I could make a smaller, more portable detector, mining companies would buy the patent from me, and I would have all the disposable income I ever needed. Fortunately for me, the metal detector never worked. Instead, I ended up creating a device that formed a stable gateway between this Earth and a parallel world, a world I named E-2, obviously short for Earth 2. E-2 was slightly more advanced than Earth Prime, or E-1. I learned a lot about interdimensional travel, mostly about the dos and don’ts, in the months and years to follow. Do 1: DO send a probe before you jump into an interdimensional rift. Do 2: When you send a probe, DO make sure it has a Geiger counter, UV detector, and O2 sensor. Do 3: DO seal the entrance behind you so that you aren’t followed by pets like my damn cat that I spent two weeks searching for in a parallel Earth. Don’t 1: DON’T be surprised when you experience time dilation effects. Don’t 2: DON’T forget to install a chronometer on every probe. The hardest thing I found out about new inventions, like this interdimensional space-time breaching not metal detector I made, was that they need a name. A device as important as the one I just invented had to have a cool, yet descriptive name. So what exactly did this crazy device I just cooked up in my apartment do? It proved superstring theory correct. Check: superstring. It manipulated the space-time continuum. Check: manipulation. And it transmitted overlapping equalized frequencies that vibrated quantum particles in alternating dimensions. I came up with a blank for this one. At first I came up with Superstring Manipulation Harmonizer, but then I googled “SMH” and it came back with “shaking my head”. So that was out. So was Superstring Manipulation Transmitter, as SMT was an acronym for statistical machine translation or surface mount technology, two widely used terms in the applied physics world. I finally settled on Superstring Manipulation Equalizer. I decided to stick with that name because SME also stands for “Subject Matter Expert,” a term I found fitting to describe myself. Its operation is simple, really- at least from a quantum physicist's perspective. Each dimension has its own resonant quantum frequency. If you can lock on to that frequency, and match its vibration, you can form a stable wormhole from one dimension to the other. That’s exactly what I did on April 12, 2011. I’m sure you didn’t buy Paradise Found to hear about E-2. If you’re truly interested in reading about it, check out my other book, Many Worlds, from your local library. * Three years passed since I first traveled to E-2, the first parallel world ever discovered. In spring of 2014, I moved to the Northeast, where Dartmouth had accepted me for post graduate work. I still kept my superstring manipulation equalizer secret. There was no way of telling, in my mind at least, what shady quasi-governmental agencies or international terror syndicates could do with a device that could essentially punch a hole in space-time. My grandfather would always tell me, "It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you." I assure you. "They" really were out to get me. Now I consult for them. The devices I brought to Earth from E-2 earned me a little bit of money. After reverse engineering some of their entertainment devices, I patented each one and sold the patent for a tidy profit. I’m not terribly proud of that act, but it was necessary for me to be able to purchase things I needed to safely, and secretly, explore. Geiger counters are not cheap, by any means. Now try buying a Geiger counter through a third party, and you can see why I had to resort to immoral acts to keep my operating budget afloat. I continued searching for more parallel worlds, finding 16 parallel worlds total, including E-2. More than half of them were uninhabitable due to radiation or severe lack of oxygen. In one case, the world I found didn't even have an atmosphere. But I never gave up hope, and continued looking for habitable worlds, teeming with intelligent life forms. And of course, there was also E-11, with an 18:1 time dilation ratio. I spent about three days there, only to come back and find that two months had passed on Earth Prime. Try explaining to your parents why you haven't called or emailed in two months. Not fun. * July 18, 2014, was the day I discovered E-18, or Equus, as the natives refer to their planet. I had been running a subharmonic scan from my basement laboratory, looking for new extradimensional worlds. After the scan finished, I calibrated my probe to my remote controller, tested all fourteen buttons rigorously, and performed check after check after check of the probe's electrical systems. The most important part of my explorations, next to my equalizer, is the probe. I retrofitted an electric golf cart and installed various sensors, cameras, and electronics to it, so that I wouldn’t blindly stumble into a radioactive wasteland or a world where there is no more ozone layer. I directed the probe’s activities remotely using a video game controller that I enhanced with powerful radio transmitters and receivers. I turned on one system after another, preparing the probe for its journey into this new dimension I found. It would be the seventeenth parallel Earth I’ve found in the last 3 years. I jotted down the frequency and coordinates in a notebook, where I kept an account of technical details too myriad to remember. The probe whirred to life, lights flashing as various sensors began their startup sequence. I checked each sensor’s output on my laptop, each gauge on the computer’s screen providing a different value for over thirty variables. Temperature, UV radiation, gamma radiation, relative humidity, chronological displacement, air quality, biomass…you name it. The probe was calibrated for terrestrial environments- those that can support human life. Deviations from what I programmed to be the norm would be detected and relayed back to my workstation. Based on those readings, I had two options. If the parallel world had a suitable environment, I would explore further. If not, I would index that world’s frequency into my database as a “DNA,” or Do Not Access. With more than a little anxiety, I initialized the portal activation process. The equalizer hummed noisily in my hands as the forces of time and space rippled before me. The room flared with bright light as the wormhole began to coalesce from thin air. Ten feet in diameter, the portal was large enough to accommodate a medium sized car…or a golf cart loaded with sensors. Exchanging my equalizer for the probe controller, I watched on my computer screen as the cart crossed the event horizon of the portal. The journey always played havoc with the sensitive electronics on board, so it was usually a three to five minute wait until the probe stabilized and could begin transmitting data. After a tortuous handful of minutes, I could finally see through the eyes of my probe. Trees, grass, and blue sky were a familiar sight. I cross checked the sensor data: comparable humidity, air quality, and gravitational constant. I ran a program on my computer that would evaluate each input and determine how close it was to Earth’s environment. It returned a 98.4% match. I was more than satisfied with the similarities to Earth. The probe continued gathering data, streaming millions of bytes of information on the new world surrounding it. I continued moving the probe forward, just over a gently rising hill. Jackpot! Some kind of barn stood straight ahead, not more than a half a mile away. Trees formed straight lines in an unnatural manner; I could only guess it was a farm or other agricultural endeavor. I zoomed in with my camera lens, hoping to see human, or humanoid, inhabitants. All I could make out from this distance was a blurry figure moving near the barn and what appeared to be a house. The probe slowly inched closer, the images of whatever it was I saw moving becoming sharper with every new minute. It was a horse. It didn’t seem like the colors were right though. Most horses I had seen had brown, black, or white coats. This one’s coat was a deep red color, like a fire engine or my Swingline stapler. I chalked it up to the contrast of the camera, and made a mental note to install better ones when the probe returned. I noticed the horse was now looking in the direction of the camera. It stood motionless for several minutes. While I was checking my solar array voltages, it must have trotted in to the barn structure, and a different colored horse came out acting exactly the same as the other reddish horse did. Its hair seemed out of place; it almost looked as if this four legged animal was wearing a hat. Against my better judgment, I moved the probe forward, trying to get a better look at these two creatures, hoping that I could find whatever farmer was responsible for them. Sure enough, it did appear that this horse was wearing a hat. I laughed for a few seconds, figuring that at the very least, there’s someone in this alternate dimension with a sense of humor. I've seen pictures online of dogs and cats wearing various costumes: hats, moustaches, fur coats, the works. But there was something downright hilarious to seeing a horse wearing a cowboy hat. I stopped laughing when I saw the yellowish brown horse trotting towards the probe. Curiosity isn’t exactly a trait that horses are known to possess. I, however, possess curiosity by the bucketful. I watched my monitor closely as the creature approached. Its mane was tied back in a ponytail, and I could see a brand that looked like apples on the horse’s haunch. It approached the probe cautiously, circling it once before stopping. My initial assessment of the creatures was inaccurate. They were similar in some ways to horses. This one’s eyes, though, seemed much too big to belong to a regular horse. I reasoned that it must be an evolutionary adaptation to low light conditions. The not-horse creature stood there for several moments, before taking off its hat, holding it with its hooves.
Crossing OverI blinked. Then I blinked again. The horse thing was definitely holding a cowboy hat. In a hoof. Which it then promptly placed back on its head. It was eyeing my probe warily, slowly circling it like a shark would circle a wounded fish. I assumed the poor beast was hungry. Its jaws moved in a slow chomping motion, as though it intended to make a meal of the ninety-something thousand dollar probe. I wasn’t going to have that. I didn't understand how a horse could manipulate a hat, but I was more than a little unnerved. Next dimension please! Slowly shifting the probe in reverse, I carefully eased the tension on the brakes and backed the electronics laden golf cart down the hilly mound. I hadn’t expected to startle the damn horse, but it leaped back about four feet anyway. As the cart rolled back down beyond the hill’s crest, I lost track of the yellowish creature. Just as well anyway. I didn’t want to take a chance on it making a snack out of a radio antenna or power conduit. I hastily carried out a three point turn, pointing the front of the probe back to my still open wormhole. I had hardly inched forward when I found my controls unresponsive. I was able to move backward, but once I reversed, I couldn’t go forward again. I checked the camera feeds. It seemed that the rear feed was nothing but static, and the front feed showed me green grass, blue sky, and tracks that I knew would lead the probe back to safety. At this point I was on the verge of panic. I accelerated the probe to its maximum, trying in vain to overcome whatever force held it in place. By this point, I couldn’t even move backward. *ALERT* *ALERT* *ALERT* The automated systems indicated a motor malfunction. Damn it. I mentally worked through about twenty different hypothetical situations, each of them leading me to conclude that the probe had gotten stuck in a pothole I must had missed on the climb up the hill. I slammed my hands against my solid oak desk in frustration. Several agonizing seconds later, I regretted my passively aggressive outburst, shaking my hands like a manic cheerleader who drank two or three too many energy drinks before the big game. It took months of work and thousands of dollars to build my damned probe. I had a repair kit, but a golf cart motor would take time to repair. Or worse, replace. By then, I had crossed from the “verge of panic” phase into “nuclear reactor meltdown” phase. Eventually, I leveled out, and came back down to a level of mildly anxious calm. My clearest thoughts came to me when I was mildly, anxiously, calm. I repeated that mantra several times over the course of the next two minutes. Mildly, anxiously, calm. The plan for retrieving my probe came thankfully quickly. Rope. Crowbar. Repair kit. Equalizer. Controller. Coat. The coat came on first. Next, I grabbed a pile of nylon rope that was frequently used to fasten extra cargo to the probe. The probe controller went in one pocket, while the equalizer went in another. I grabbed the repair kit off the shelf, checking for all the necessary doodads and gadgets, like fuses, wrenches, extra wire, and my red Swingline stapler. The crowbar came last. I carried it in my left hand, while the repair kit was firmly in my right. I figured I might need the extra leverage a crowbar could give me if the cart really was stuck. If not, at least I’d have something to swing around and scare off the wildlife. Loaded for bear with gear, I breathed in one final gasp of earthly air…..and stepped through the luminescent portal. Remember earlier when I wrote that my probe’s electronics wouldn’t work for about three to five minutes after traveling to another dimension? That same effect happened to me, although it expressed itself in different ways. While my electronics would just stop working, I’d become racked with waves of nausea accompanied by a gonglike ringing in my ears. In other words, I’d stop working. Luckily, the paralysis lasts for only a short time. But when you’re in an unknown environment, and you have no idea who (or what) is out there, three minutes might as well be eternity. I was on my hands and knees retching nearly immediately. My head throbbed with pain that made the world’s worst migraine seem benign in comparison. The wormhole still shimmered behind me. I fumbled in my pocket for the equalizer, depressing the switch that would change the quantum spin from positive to negative and close the vortex’s gaping maw. I couldn’t risk someone seeing the portal while I was here. I was almost too late. I could hear the sound of two people approaching me at full speed. I feebly attempted to get to my feet, swinging my crowbar in futile defense. A blur passed. Agonizing jolts coursed up my hand to my elbow, forcing me to drop the crowbar. For the second time that day, I flailed my hand wildly about, trying to ease the ache from an already sore appendage. I issued an inhuman howl of pain, but it alleviated nothing. I didn’t see the ropes wrap around me until several seconds later. Wincing, and struggling with every ounce of resistance left in my bedraggled body, I fought against my unknown oppressor until a hard knock landed into my head. As blackness seeped into my vision and I started drifting into a concussion induced sleep, I could have swore I heard a young woman with a country accent say, “What the buck are you?” * Conciousness returned to me eventually, one eye at a time. The unpleasant metallic taste of blood contrasted sharply with the smell of the air around me. It smelled like apples and fresh grass in here. It was dark, but I could discern the shape of hay bales, crates full of apples, and various farm implements. I had to have been in that barn structure I saw a few minutes…or was it hours?....ago. My heatbeat raced excitedly as I saw my probe, undamaged, in an otherwise empty area of the structure. I knew that my probe couldn’t have been in here for very long. All of the probe’s systems were battery powered; the battery was charged by exposure to sunlight. The fiasco with the motor most likely drained the batteries heavily; however, most of the onboard sensors were still on and active, streaming data into nowhere. Then I saw a thick fibrous rope tied around the probe’s frame. I didn’t know what to make of that at first. I was finding it somewhat difficult to think, courtesy of the recent traumatic brain injury. My head was still killing me, and at this point I would have been glad if the only physical problems I had were caused by interdimensional travel. It wasn’t until I tried to reach for my probe controller that I noticed the ropes binding my feet, legs, arms, and shoulders. Though I tried to loosen the bonds, they weren’t budging at all. My struggle against the restraints only served to make me tired, and I gave up after a ten minute session of Man Vs. Rope. Voices from outside the barn drifted inward, and I struggled to glean some meaning from their words. I could only make out every other phrase. Big Mac, pinky, funny business, and discord were the only ones I could make sense of. I was amused by the fact that there is a McDonald’s in this world too…the more things change, the more they stay the same. I figured they were talking about me or my injuries, so I checked out my own pinkies. They appeared to move normally, although my left hand still hurt like hell. I wasn’t sure what discord meant, but I expected I would find out sooner or later. The barn door creaked open. Temporarily blinded by the new source of light, I saw the shadow of someone in the doorway. “Now see, Fluttershy, I dun told ya, it ain’t from around here. Believe me now?” It sounded kind of like that woman I heard earlier. A new voice chimed up. “My goodness. You’re right but, I don’t know where the poor frightened thing must have came from.” “Poor? Frightened thang? It nearly took my gosh durn head off with a big metal stick!” “Probably because it was frightened….” My eyes adjusted to the sunlight beaming into the room as the source of the country voice walked into the barn. Or rather, trotted. It was the yellow-brown horse from earlier. With that comedic hat. I could do nothing but cackle madly, laughing the laugh of a man who was certain his grip on sanity had been lost for good. The country woman voiced horse stood its ground. As I finished my cacophony of madness, the shattered fragments of my psyche reassembled themselves post haste. The horse wasn’t so much horse-sized, though; it was more like a pony. Its eyes were level with mine. I knew it was staring hard, trying to figure out just what the hell she was doing bringing a psychotic interdimensional alien into her home. I could have said a thousand different things, a thousand thousand other words than the ones I spoke, but the first ever greeting, from a human, to an Equestrian, was, “HOW ARE YOU SPEAKING ENGLISH?!” Author's Note If you're going to give my story a thumbs down, do two things first. Post helpful, constructive criticism, so that I can improve the story and the quality of my writing overall. I really do want to have a great story that engages the readers. If you haven't written a story of your own, try doing so first before you anonymously disapprove of mine. Otherwise, enjoy!
English, ponybucker! Do you speak it?!English, ponybucker! Do you speak it?! “HOW ARE YOU SPEAKING ENGLISH?!” The pony’s eyes widened, reeling back in shock. I guessed it didn’t expect me to speak their language any more than I was expecting to understand theirs. “TWILIGHT!!!!” The golden-brown pony ran screaming into the open air outside, sharply curving left at the barn door’s exit. It wasn’t long before a different pony’s face crept into the barn’s doorway. It looked at me. I didn’t even have time to see what it looked like before it ducked back out of sight. I called out. “You don’t have to be scared of m…..” The sound disappeared from the air, nothing but silence dominating the poorly lit barn. I didn’t know what the hell was happening, and I didn’t want to know. My scientific explanation was binaural damage secondary to post concussive injury. In English, I went deaf from my concussion. It seemed a plausible enough theory to me. Except for the unicorn that now crept toward me. This was most likely the Twilight character that Ms. Kickme Cowboy (I still call her that nickname; she still kicks my ass) was talking about. It cautiously entered the barn, staring me down like I was a serial murderer. Out of all of humanity, I am the only one who can say I was damn near scared to death by a unicorn. In that one second that I was aware of it, and it was aware of me, I prayed to a thousand gods from a hundred civilizations that the stories and myths of unicorns was true- that they were noble creatures who were pure of heart. The biggest problem I had with that theory, though, was that this particular purple one looked positively pissed off. I eventually lost the staring contest, my eyes blinking in succession to try and dispel this all too real figment that would not go away. It was making me uncomfortable. Besides the fact that I was trussed up in ropes, I really did not like the way it seemed to pierce into my soul with its mind-melting laser vision. I tried to speak to it, to say hello, to introduce myself, but still I heard nothing. I saw the unicorn’s horn glow with light, later discovering that this was a telltale indication of magic being used. That’s right. Magic. It’s not much more complicated than quantum physics. Hell, I know a few of the simpler spells now. But yes, I was in a barn, where a unicorn was casting magic spells on me. The sounds of the air eventually returned, accompanied by a slowly rising crescendo of a high pitched electronic whine. The noise eventually stopped, but it did little to assuage my nerves. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. Within seconds, the acrid smell of burning electronics overpowered my nostrils. I glanced over at my probe, but I didn’t see anything unusual that would indicate an electrical malfunction. Then it hit me. My equalizer…the key to going home…it felt strangely warm in my pocket. Something must have overloaded the circuits. The unicorn broke its silence, covering its own muzzle with a hoof. “What’s that awful smell?” The voice was unmistakably female. “Oh, that’s nothing. It just means I lost MY ONLY WAY OF GETTING HOME NOW!” I regretted my overreaction almost immediately. The Twilight unicorn recoiled slightly, but still seemed determined in its visual showdown with me. She let out a sigh. “My friends and I really don’t know what you are or where you come from. But if you keep yelling, you’ll stay tied up even longer. Now I have some questions, and you’ll give answers. If you try any magic tricks, or lie to me, I know some pretty good ways of dealing with you. Don’t. Test. Me.” Her eyes stayed locked on mine until she pulled out a book from what appeared to be thin air. A feather dipped into a vial of ink also popped into existence. With the quill floating in midair, one end dipped into the ink, and it leaped with tiny flourishes across the book's pages. Scribbles could be heard from where she stood about twenty feet away. “The other horse implied that you were the Twilight.” I tried to find any reaction to me calling what I thought was her name. She stayed focused on the book. I swore she must have been smiling. “Twilight Sparkle. Please just call me Twilight.” “All right. I’m Silas. Silas Hunter.” “You speak Equestrian with no accent. What part of the world are you from?” “I’m from….the South.” “Okay.” A few more notes scribbled themselves down. “What kind of thing do you call yourself or others like you?” I saw no reason with being dishonest. “I’m a human being.” I heard her laugh. It was a weird, snorting chortle. I could never duplicate that sound in a thousand years if I tried. “What’s so funny about that?” She still hadn’t really gained her composure. It took her a little while before she could really answer. “Well, you can’t possibly be a human being. Humans are nothing more than mythological creatures from pony history and bedtime stories cooked up to scare little foals. Humans aren’t scientifically possible…you aren’t scientifically possible!” She smiled a little, pointing a (manicured?) hoof at me and seeming smugly satisfied. “Here I am. In the flesh. You know, where I come from, unicorns aren’t real…I thought they were make believe, too.” She shot me a disbelieving glance. I had the nagging feeling that I might have offended her. But by this point I was on the verge of tears, in pain, and fearful that I would never see the Earth I knew again. “I have no reason to lie to you, Twilight. I believe in you. And I’ll tell you anything you want to know, prove I’m a human…everything. All I ask is that you believe in me. And please, please untie me.” I don’t think I convinced her. Sparkle pony called for Applejack. I remember thinking that these creatures had some weird ass names, but my name probably sounded foreign to them, too. The apple cowpony came in, settling beside Twilight and giving me the same stares Twilight had assaulted me with earlier. “I heard you talking to Twilight about yer name. So what kinda hunter are you, again?” “I don’t hunt anything. My family name is Hunter. My personal name is Silas.” “Well, howdy, Silos. You sure gave me ‘n my kin a fright with your doohickiethangywat over yonder.” She pointed at my probe. “It’s Silas.” “And, uh, plum sorry ‘bout the knock on your noggin.” She raised her hoof, pointing it at her own head. “No hard feelin’s?” “Not really, but can you let me loose? The ropes are beginning to chafe, and I’m a little thirsty.” “Before I untie ya, I gotta know somethin’. Do ya eat ponies?” She glared menacingly at me, one eye half-closed in a pseudo squint. A four foot pony was giving me the stink eye. I let out a sigh. “No, I don’t eat ponies. I eat fried potatoes, burgers, and spaghetti.” She glanced over at Twilight, who nodded in silent approval. The pony tugged on the ropes on my hands, and then my torso. Soon my whole body was free from restraint. Applejack still stood close to me, her stance guarded. “Ya harm a hair on anypony,” Applejack growled under her breath, “and you’ll learn just how fast I can make a noose.” The color drained from my face as I nodded, indicated my understanding. “Good!” Applejack smiled at me, a deep, genuine smile. “Welcome to Ponyville!” Author's Note You'll find that the protagonist is a lot less scientific, and a bit more informal. Let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks for reading!
StuckAuthor's Note If you've got a weak stomach, don't eat anything before reading this chapter. The main character throws up. Just a warning. As always, please leave me feedback, & thanks for reading! Stuck My limbs felt heavier than ever after Applejack released me from my bonds. Thirst, fatigue, confusion, and depression hit me like a steroid-infused nightclub bouncer. I slid down to the floor, my back supported by the beam that I had been tied to just minutes before. “What’s wrong?” I noted the concern in Twilight’s voice. She sounded curious, yet motherly at once. My body rejected everything. The sights, the sounds, the smells. I doubled over, hands flat on the ground while vertigo and nausea assaulted me mercilessly. That all too familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach rushed up, and whatever was left of my dinner spewed out of my mouth at lightning speed. A small pile of undigested ramen mingled with the dirt and hay occupying the barn floor. “Weak stomach. Check!” I heard the furious scribbles of quills on parchment. I wondered if the unicorn was describing the process of human emesis in lurid detail, making me laugh a little on the inside. I felt somewhat better, but the pain in my wrists, ankles, hands and head still bothered me. Struggling against those ropes caused a lot of chafing; my raw skin was tender to the touch. Applejack left and returned shortly, accompanied by a third pony. The handle of a bucket was securely gripped in this new pony’s mouth. There was some kind of liquid in it, likely water. This new pony sported a bright yellow coat of fur; her mane and tail were a feminine pink. But what really blew my mind was the pair of wings gracing each side of the slender mare. A winged horse. Pegasus. Christ. It was like I was living in a fairy tale. The new horse sat the bucket on the ground next to me, avoiding my messy regurgitation. “Sit up, please, mister human. I know you must be really sick…and frightened.” Well, this must have been the source of the other voice talking to Applejack. This new pony, this pegasus, sounded like the stereotypical nurse. “I heard you were thirsty, so I brought some well water. It’s good for you.” I scooped water from the bucket with my hands, forming an improvised drinking vessel. It didn’t work out, though, and I eventually just picked up the bucket with both hands. I rinsed my mouth out first, spitting out the unpleasant aftertaste of bile. This was pretty damn good water. I was a kind of connoisseur of bottled water, but not even artisanal spring waters were as cool or crisp as this. My thirst quenched, I stood on two feet again. My sense of balance had been restored, and although I still felt unnerved, I was oriented and alert. “Thank you, miss…?” The yellow pegasus shifted somewhat uncomfortably, her eyes gazing downward. “Fluttershy.” “Did you say, ‘Butterfly’?” I figured that’s what she said. She had some kind of butterfly tattoo or brand on her rump. For a moment, I thought it was some kind of a “tramp stamp” like the ones that are so popular among today’s youth. “Flutter…shy”. Her voice barely registered above a whisper. I decided not to pry further. “Oh. Okay, then.” Applejack took the initiative and stepped forward. “Fluttershy here is jus’ a teeny bit timid, but don’t worry, Silos, she’ll get ya fixed right up. Right, sugarcube?” Applejack gently nudged her pink haired friend. Fluttershy nodded in emphatic acknowledgement. She tenderly treated my rope burns, gentle yet firm in applying some kind of ointment and then gauze. I didn’t know what to think about this situation. One minute I was hog-tied, the next they had a nurse pony treating my wounds like I was a child or sibling. This place was getting weirder by the moment. “I appreciate your help, I really do. But I need to see if I can salvage my equipment…return back to where I came from.” Twilight chimed in. “Is this your equipment?” She walked over to my probe, her hoof level with one of the cameras. “It seems okay to me.” “Um, not specifically.” I pulled out my equalizer, the telltale stench of fried capacitors and transistors making it abundantly clear I wasn’t going anywhere for a while. “This is how I got here. It uses a….form of magic to open doorways to other worlds. But something happened to it.” The lithium ion battery had damn near melted. The amplifier circuits were fused; and as I suspected, every capacitor had overloaded and popped. I opened my tool kit, pulling out various bits, pieces, and tools. Although I had a lot of supplies to fix the probe, nothing in here would help me repair the equalizer. Not even my red Swingline stapler. So I was stuck. “I don’t suppose you have a Radio Shack?” Silence. “Capacitors?” Twilight and company shook their heads, the negative response explicit. The unicorn stepped towards me. “I want to know everything about you and your, um, magic, Silas. But the timing of your arrival is…let’s say, interesting. The princesses need to know about this. I’m sorry if I seem rude, but I have to leave. You’re in good hooves with Applejack and Fluttershy. I'll be back later. I promise. I want to help you.” Her horn glowed again, and with a bright flash, she was gone. “Hey, where the hell did she go?” I checked out the spot where she was. I even peered outside of the barn. She just…vanished. “Back home, prob’ly.” Applejack seemed dismissive. “Let me guess: magic?” “Ayup.” I was thoroughly impressed. Teleportation is a different sort of beast altogether from the technology I used. I made a mental note to ask how that worked when we met again. “As long as you’re here, Fluttershy, you might as well join us for dinner.” Applejack gestured her head toward the farmhouse. “Oh, I’d love to! Angel and the others will get super mad if I don’t have their dinner ready soon, though, so I’ll go feed them and join you for supper, if that’s okay.” Fluttershy moved closer to the barn’s exit. “All right. Ah understand. But at the very least, stop by Rarity’s place and tell her to go talk with Twi. O’ course, she’s also invited ta supper. And don’t tell her about our…” She looked back to me, “…guest, yet. Twilight’ll take care o’ that.” “You can count on me.” Fluttershy took off in a westernly direction, humming gaily as she trotted off over the hills. I was alone with cowboy pony. She took off her hat again, wiping invisible sweat away from her brow. “No offense, Silos, but ya could use some cleanin’ up. Yer not exactly fresh as a spring day…ah reckon a shower would do ya some mighty good.” “My name is Silas.” “Uh-huh. Let’s get ya in the shower.” These ponies were just full of surprises at every turn. Magic. Showers. Teleportation. I half expected leprechauns and fairies to start dancing their way out of the trees, but no Celtic inspired creatures were to be found. * Applejack’s farmhouse seemed fairly rustic. It was like I stepped into the painting of that farmer holding a pitchfork. “Big Mac, Apple Bloom, we’ve got a guest.” The pony’s voice reverberated through the house, and heavy steps came back in reply. “Ah sent Apple Bloom out to play, sis. Ya take care of that thing?” The voice I heard was male; his drawl almost comedic. “It’s a he. But yup, it’s all right. Ain’t gonna bite, ah think.” The red horse from before greeted me at the bottom of the staircase. “Big Macintosh. But call me Big Mac.” I laughed a little; that couldn’t be helped. “I’m sorry, Big Mac. It’s just that, where I’m from, there are sandwiches called ‘Big Macs’.” I knew I wouldn’t be encountering any fast food burger joints anytime soon. It was his turn to laugh. “Well, fancy that. That ought to be kinda funny. Maybe you could make me one o’ them; Big Mac eatin’ a Big Mac. Sounds like a hoot!” I liked this guy. Or horse. Or whatever. Applejack cut him off. “Sorry Mac, but Shy Lass here needs a shower. If’n ya don’t mind, would you go ahead and get the table ready fer supper?” “Ahyup.” “Thank ya kindly.” The upstairs bathroom was a nice affair. The smells of soaps, shampoos, and conditioners reminded me of old people, for some reason. “Ah’m gonna go ahead and wash yer clothes for ya. It’s the least I can do after wrasslin’ ya in the dirt and hogtyin’ ya in my barn.” “That’s kind of you Applejack.” Looking down at my clothes, I could see they were pretty nasty…dirt, hay, and something reminiscent of regurgitated ramen were staining my jeans and t-shirt. “I’ll leave them for you outside the door.” I stripped off my shirt and pants, cracking the door slightly to throw my soiled garments into the hallway. I kept my boxers with me for modesty’s sake. Although this bathroom had a mirror, I had to slightly stoop in order to see myself. Blood had caked one side of my face; my light brown hair was in complete disarray. It was clear that a shower was warranted. I have to say that was the best shower I have ever taken in my life. The water was the perfect temperature; the soap fresh smelling with notes of mint and lavender. I felt almost as though I’d never taken a shower in my life before. It was seriously that refreshing. The blood and grime that had marred my face was gone, leaving a clean twenty two year old's face in its stead. I threw my boxers back on after drying myself. I was a little concerned about leaving the bathroom in its original state; the ponies were certainly hospitable, but I didn’t want to impose more than I already had. I cleaned up behind myself, soaking up an errant puddle with my bathtowel. Applejack’s timing was impeccable. She held my neatly folded shirt and pants in her hoof, which was fantastic. Although I wasn’t exactly thrilled about her barging in on me while I was still half naked. Only my boxers kept me from total nudity. “I’m not dressed.” “Ayup. Ah can see that. And yer point?” “I’m sorry. Where I’m from, we are clothed unless we are sleeping or in the shower. People who go around without clothing are seen as, uh…not all there.” “Loco in the coco?” Applejack’s hoof twirled around her head, her eyes spinning in circles. I guess some things are universal. I chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it.” “Supper’s nearly ready. Come on down. Got a few friends ya should meet.” * The rest of the Apple family, three ponies I hadn’t met, and a dragon crowded around the wide dinner table, each of them greeting me in their own fashion. There was Rarity, the marshmallow unicorn fashionista. She seemed fascinated by my clothing, even though it was just a t-shirt and jeans. Rainbow Dash, the boastful pegasus whose mane was, as her name implied, rainbow colored, didn’t really seem all that impressed with me. Pinkie Pie unsettled me a little; I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way she smelled like cotton candy. Apple Bloom, Applejack's younger sister, was the most eager of the bunch to meet me. Although the youngest at the dinner table, she had more questions about me than Twilight…I think. Granny Smith didn’t exactly have the best of vision. I guess I was a little flattered when she told me I was the most polite minotaur she ever met. Big Mac seemed pretty quiet and introspective throughout dinner, although he would inject a well-timed “Nope” when called for. Fluttershy was even more quiet than Big Mac. She scarcely said anything all night, except asking for a slice of apple pie. Spike interested me the most. Twilight introduced him as a baby dragon, to which he corrected her, “Juvenile dragon.” Everyone at the table got a kick out of that, excepting Twilight, who was not amused. Everything at supper was pretty much made with apples. Applesauce, apple fritters, apple waffles, and apple pie. It was all deliciously amazing. I think even the famously hypercritical chef Gordon Ramsay would be rendered speechless by the quality of the food. After about an hour or so of delicious food and conversation, I had a pretty clear impression of each of the ponies, and dragon, I met. They all seemed oddly relaxed and comfortable in the presence of something from outside their world. When dinner was over, I insisted on helping clear the plates. It only felt right to return the hospitality I was shown in kind by the Apple clan. With Big Mac’s assistance, the dishes were all cleaned and dried within a matter of minutes. “Big Mac, kindly see ta Apple Bloom getting tucked in bed.” Applejack stepped away from her chair, placing it back underneath the table. The other young ponies did likewise. The deep red pony led his little sister upstairs, while the other ponies (and Spike) looked at me, as if they were waiting for my next magic trick. The wizened Granny Smith called out to me, heaping praise upon praise as she laid a firm hoof on my shoulder. “Ye’ve been a great help, Sigh Loss. Reckon you make yer minotaur fam’ly right proud of ye. And ye can tell ‘em Granny Smith dun said so.” “Thank you, Granny. I’ll…let them know.” “Sorry, Granny, but I’ve got ta steal him away from ya. He’s got somethin' ta show us. Outside.” “Well, it was a right pleasure to meet ya, Sigh Loss, even if ya ain’t got no hairs. I’m off ta bed mahself; a spry old pony like me needs all the beauty sleep she can git.” “G’night, Granny.” Applejack waved off her grandmother as she made her way upstairs. Rarity moved to my side, her purple mane bouncing with every step she took forward. “So, darling, show us this hulking metal chariot that brought you here to our…humble little town.” “I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure what you are talking about…” Twilight interrupted me midthought. “It’s the thing in the barn. What did you call it again? An Equinizer?” “Oh, that. I might as well explain it to you…I’m kind of stuck here, now.” I was followed by a herd of ponies (plus Spike) as we made our way out of the house and back to the barn. I guessed that either Big Mac or Applejack had cleaned up the mess I’d made already. The bucket of water had been emptied onto the ground, washing away the sharp smell of bile. “Ooooh, lights!” A blur of pink rushed through the barn doors, stopping only inches from the probe’s surface. “What’s this, what’s this, shiny, shiny!” Pinkie Pie stood transfixed by the probe’s still flashing lights. “Hey, look everypony! There’s cameras!” A hundred different silly faces were captured by the probe, every image converted into bits and bytes and transmitted through the air into nothingness. “Yeah, that’s cool and all, but how did you get here?” The blue pegasus chimed in, boredom underlining her tone. “Pinkie, please don’t touch anything. It…might be dangerous. I don’t know.” The hyperactive pink mare looked just a little sad, trotting back toward the rest of the coterie. I shared what I knew about interdimensional travel…the specifics of how I found their world. Twilight was furiously taking notes, hanging on to every word I said. “Each dimension has its own inherent vibrational pattern. This is called frequency. I use a specialized tool that I call an equalizer to ‘tune in’ to that frequency. Once I generate enough power, I can step through from my world, to any other.” The group of ponies (and dragon!) looked confused. Twilight was the sole exception; her face appeared more inquisitive than stupefied. “Twilight, may I get a few sheets of paper and a quill, please?” She magically ripped out a few sheets, looking both annoyed and appalled that she had to mutilate part of her notebook. I drew circles on each of the pieces of parchment, stacking them together for my demonstration. “Each of these circles represents a different world. Each world is roughly the same size. This top sheet represents your world, Equus. The bottom represents the world I come from. Earth.” “Each sheet of paper is a dimension of the universe. There may be hundreds of these…thousands even. Each one slightly different than the other.” I held the two sheets of paper that represented Equus and Earth apart, my arms spreading wide. “Normally, there is no way to travel from my world to this one. They’re so far apart.” I brought the two sheets of paper together again. “To get here, I basically make a tunnel from my world, to yours, that lasts just long enough for me to see what’s on the other side and take a look around.” I speared the quill through the center of both sheets of paper, driving my point home. I looked through the hole I just poked, my eye settling on Rainbow Dash. “When I create this tunnel, I first send a device through. This device gathers information about the world around it. The air, the wind, the temperature…all these things I test and check. This,” I gestured toward the probe, “is that device.” Applejack chimed in. “So that means…” “When I saw a pony wearing a hat through the camera, I wasn’t sure what to think. That pony galloped over to my probe, looked it over, and then took its hat off with its hoof. In my world, horses just cannot do such things. I tried to bring my probe back through the tunnel, but somehow it got stuck and couldn’t move.” I glanced at Applejack; I knew she knew what happened. “It took a lot of time and money to build that probe. So I went through the tunnel, determined to get my probe unstuck, bring it home, and never look back on this world again. But coming to a new world makes you sick for a short time. It disorients you. I barely had time to close the tunnel before I thought I was under attack by one of the ‘natives’. Something knocked the crowbar out of my hand, hit me on the head, and then I awoke in here, tied up with rope.” “Cool story, bro. So really, what part of Equestria are you from?” Rainbow Dash turned her head to the side quizzically. Five facehooves, a faceclaw, and a facepalm later, Twilight gently chided her prismatic pal. “Weren’t you listening, Dash? He’s from another world. Not Equestria. Not Equus. Earth.” The pegasus blushed furiously, the light pink of her face a sharp contrast to the rest of her blue coat. “Oh yeah, I heard you talking about that. The paper thing. Heh, heh, nevermind me…I’m just gonna sit down and keep my muzzle closed now.” “Shortly after I woke up, I started talking, and then things went silent. After the silence lifted, my equalizer, the device that makes a tunnel from my world to yours, kind of destroyed itself. “So here I am. Stuck for now, at least.”
