A whistling Twilight Sparkle was en route to Sugar Cube Corner for her morning breakfast when, as she was about to cross Poneyville’s Grand Place, her eye was caught by a small throng gathered in circle, as if the various ponies there were all contemplating something happening inside. Intrigued, she diverted from her path; as she came nearer, she noticed that the crowd was seething with curious murmured sentences: “She’s mad!” ; “She’ll never do it!” ; “She’s lost her marbles!” ; “She’s going to break the heart of her friend”… More and more disconcerted, but unable to see what was transpiring beyond the living fence, she looked around for a familiar face, recognised Berry Punch not far away and trotted towards her.
“Hi Berry!” she cheered when she was close enough.
“Hey Twilight!” answered Berry Punch. “How are you today?”
“Fine thanks! Can you tell me what’s the matter here?” asked Twilight.
“It seems to be Lyra,” explained Berry Punch. “Look!” She stepped aside to make way for the alicorn, and Twilight jostled somewhat against the other ponies to wiggle forwards.
In the center of the poney’s circle, the familiar minty figure of Lyra was carefully and sedulously stowing various hardware tools in two big burlap saddlebags: ropes, knives, a duvet, a compass, a lighter, a lantern, and other miscellaneous items that were roughly gathered in a hodgepodge heap on the ground.
“Is she packing for an outdoor trek?” Twilight asked softly, almost for herself. Her question was lost in the surrounding turmoil. “Why all this fuss for a mere frib———” It was only then that she noticed, on the other side of the circle, Bonbon, crouching on the ground, weeping. She shook her head in disbelief and turned towards Berry Punch. “Why is Bonbon crying?” she added.
“Haven’t you heard of it? Lyra plans to explore the Garrate plateau!” responded Berry. At these words, her face became wan.
“WHAT?” blurted Twilight. “But that’s right in the middle of the Everfree forest! Nopony’s been there before. Even Pegasi don’t venture so far. What the heck has she got in her mind?”
“I think it’s all related with her obsession. You know, those creatures she fancies to be real. Hue… hued manes? Well, some name close to this. Bipeds, she says. Totally ludicrous. I can’t figure out who dinned this baloney into her head… As if she had given credit to that old fairy tale according to which we were created by almighty and evil alien gods that abandoned us right away. But you know how’s Lyra. One she has an idea in her mind, she’d stick to her guns at whatever cost. Even if it means breaking her friend’s heart…”
“I’m going to have a word with her,” grumbled Twilight, who broke through and stomped towards the green pony. “Hey Lyra. What’s this fuss about the Garrate plateau? Are you really going there?”
“Matter of fact, yes!” answered Lyra without even looking at Twilight, busy as she was with the collection of her tackle. “But don’t worry, I will be back.”
“But that’s nonsense!” expostulated Twilight. “There is nothing to be found over there. Old tales single the plateau out as the weirdest place of the whole forest. Why not throw yourself directly into a dragon’s den instead?”
“Oh, come on Twilight!” sighed Lyra. “Don’t pretend you listen to all those scary grandpa’s stories. There is nothing perilous in the Everfree forest. Nothing at all. It’s not because the clouds move by themselves or because you occasionally come across a weird creature that you risk anything serious. But I’m sure there is an ancient secret hidden in it. After all, there has to be a reason why the whole area feels so strange.”
Twilight fidgeted. She couldn’t think of a further argument to debunk Lyra’s rationale. At last: “Don’t tell me you expect to encounter one of these creatures you are constantly rambling about! Nothing lives over there. It has even been reported that some strange light glimmers at night over the ridge. It might be dangerous to set foot there!”
“Well, maybe,” conceded Lyra. “But how do you know until you’ve tried by yourself? This might solely be a plain natural phenomenon, such as a vast pool of molten lava or some large lode of phosphorescent mineral. Or,” she added, with a waft of excitement, “maybe the lights of a city inhabited by living humans!” She continued to load her bags.
“Why going alone?” asked Twilight.
“Silly question,” retorted Lyra curtly. “Do you think anyone around has the guts to accompany me? You?”
“Well…” Twilight flushed slightly and did not answer. There was a brief pause. Lyra eyed Twilight with a sardonic look, then levitated another gizmo into a bag. “It’s settled, then,” she added at last.
“I know you were stubborn and outspoken,” groaned Twilight. “But I didn’t know you were foolish, rash and daredevil. Go, if that’s what you wish. To me, it’s clearly nothing but selfishness.”
“Here!” replied Lyra, and she carelessly threw a dun, triangle-shaped stone amulet attached to a rough thong loop to Twilight. “That thing’s a telepathic device. Put it on, and we’ll be able to communicate using thought transmission, wherever I will be. But for half-an-hour maximum, after which the stone will need refilling for a full day. Can’t give it to Bonbon, works only with unicorns. I’ll be wearing its sibling each night at seven prompt. If you want to get some fresh news, you know what to do!”
She picked up her last item on the ground, plonked it into one of her panniers, tightened the straps up, and set off immediately. “Goodbye everypony, see you soon!” she lilted. The ponies made way before her, and she trotted blithely away, humming gaily the melody of some paean. After a few yards, she rounded the corner of a house and disappeared from sight. A hush fell. Everypony remained petrified, and the silence was hardly disturbed by the soft sobbing of Bonbon.
Well, thought Twilight, so be it. At least we will be able to muster a rescue expedition if something goes awry. She was still pondering when a flapping sound above roused her out of her reverie; a panicked Fluttershy alighted. “Twilight! Twilight!” she squeaked nervously, “I’ve just encountered Lyra. She told me she was going to Garrate! She’ll never return! You have to stop her right away, before she reaches the edge of the Everfree!”
Twilight shrugged. “I am aware of her destination,” she said apologetically. “She has decided she had to go. I’ve tried to deter her, but I failed. I can’t jail her…”
“But she’s going to DIE!” interrupted Fluttershy. “You can’t just let her go pretending it’s her problem. That’s callous!”
“Fluttershy,” replied Twilight, “I have no right to stop somepony from doing something, even something silly, just because I think he or she risks their life. It does not fall within my remit. Lyra’s a full grown-up, and she’s not crazy – at least not completely. Ergo, if she wants to go, well… apart from verbally trying to convince her she’s heading directly into a trap, there’s little else I can do. Sorry. Besides, she may be right: there may be no danger at all. At least, she has given me a device with which we will be able to get in touch every day at a precise time. If she’s not reachable, then we will know something went wrong and we might be able to succour her. Did you try to stop her, by the way?”
“Err… No… But… But…” protested Fluttershy again, stuttering and squirming. But Twilight had already turned on her heels and was trotting off.
⁂
The sun was setting. Inside Twilight’s library a few ponies had huddled, seating on colourful hassocks amidst a hefty silence, as if some ominous and imminent disaster was about to strike. The infusing tension was almost palpable, and when the clock‘s bell suddenly pealed, everypony started or shuddered. Twilight rose on all fours, and then calmly seized the amulet Lyra had given her. She slipped the stone around her neck. Lyra? she asked in thought. Lyra? Do you hear me?
Affirmative!, answered a voice in her head; it was nothing like Lyra’s usual voice but a strange toneless susurration that seemed to spring directly inside her skull. Suddenly Twilight’s vision blurred, shifted before refocussing on a utterly different environment. Somehow, she was now beholding a vast and grassy clearing, bathed in the blazing hues of the gloaming. Several feet before her, a small fire has been lit, whose flames guttered with the gushes of the wind. At the edges of the lea, immense serried trees formed a lofty hedge under which the obscurity was all but complete. As you can see, I’m fine. I’ve been treading along the main path, the one used by the mandrake gatherers. It should lead me within sight of the plateau the day after tomorrow. I decided to overnight in this glade.
No unfortunate encounter? thought Twilight.
Ten cockatrices and nine dragons, Lyra’s responded. I trounced them all. There was a slight pause. Joshing. The main path is safe, and this is the period of the year during which cockatrices lay their eggs, so they don’t venture very far from their nest. I can see you’re not alone. Cheer everypony around. Tell Bonbon I’m sound. This is all for tonight, nothing much to elaborate on, no use to blether more. You all take care. Goodbye. Twilight’s perceived field of view changed slightly, moving upwards the treetops, as Lyra was probably rising her head to glimpse at the ruddy sky.
You too, take care! answered Twilight. Have a safe night.
I certainly will, responded Lyra. The outdoor image faded slowly, and was replaced by the familiar decor of Twilight’s library. The alicorn shook her head and winked several times. “Are you alright? Is she too?” asked Bonbon anxiously.
“Yes,” nodded Twilight. “Lyra’s fine. Look…” She grasped a scroll on her lectern, unfolded it on the floor, revealing a map of the Everfree. Everypony hunched over it. “She told me she had followed the main path, and she seems to have stopped around here.” She pointed at a small circle in the heart of the forest, not far from a dashed and meandering line that symbolised the track. “Garrate is here, so she has covered about a third of the total distance. Tomorrow, if she travels at the same pace, she should be here…” – she made a vague gesture at some other location – “and the day after tomorrow she should have reached the feet of the crags that limit the plateau…”
“If everything goes well,” said Bonbon grimly.
“Of course…” whispered Twilight. “If everything goes well.”
The assembly broke. Each pony saluted Twilight and vanished though the threshold, into the outer dusk. When all had departed, Twilight gently closed the door, carefully placed the amulet in a drawer; she picked up the map, gazed at it intensely, sighed, then rolled it up, stowed it away in a hutch crammed with other scrolls, and shuffled to the kitchen.
⁂
The next day was rainy and dreary. Twilight got engrossed in menial tasks all day long, and she was almost surprised when somepony knocked at her door around 6:45 pm. “Oh, is it already that late?” she exclaimed when she discovered the hooded face of Bonbon waiting on the threshold, smiling faintly. ”Come in,” she said, “don’t stay outside in the rain!” She chucked her broom in a corner and proceeded towards the desk whose drawer contained the amulet. Bonbon diligently wiped her hooves on the doormat, then walked in and plopped herself on a cushion. Both chatted until the chime’s first note resounded. Then Twilight put the amulet around her neck.
Lyra?
Yes, responded the now familiar whisper at the back of the alicorn’s head. Still alive and operational. Nothing much exciting today neither, I‘m afraid. As the day before, Twilight was suddenly carried to the scenery surrounding the mint unicorn. It was very dark around, except for rough walls? that seemed lit by a faint but crude light. Twilight wondered for an instant, then suddenly recognised the characteristic illumination of a magic spell. Lyra’s horn is lit, she thought. Correct, acknowledged Lyra. Twilight hiccuped, realising the unicorn had received her thought. Couldn’t find a clearing to spend the night in, and besides had to walk all day under the rain. Depressing. Feel cold and soaked, my hooves and legs are spattered and heavy with mud. Whole forest like a deep mire. Found that wide burrow under some large oak’s roots to camp in tonight. Seems to have been deserted for a long time. At least it’s fairly dry. Could not kindle a fire: tinder drenched, so had to make do with good old magic for light. Have reached the end of the track: this is about as far as the boldest wanderers go. Will have to push on through raw vegetation tomorrow, using my hatchet. Hopefully, the edge of the plateau shouldn’t be that far now. Hope to reach it before dusk. Will be at our seven hour’s meeting as usual. Am plumb tuckered. Going to sleep. Will need a lot of energy tomorrow. Good night. Hug Bonbon on my behalf. Cheers!
Wait! Wait! Lyra… thought Twilight, but she was already returned to her house. “So? So?” asked Bonbon eagerly.
“Nothing much seems to have happened, at least nothing she found significant enough to tell me. She is going to sleep in a cave, because the forest’s ground is boggy,” explained Twilight. “She said she was very tired, partly because she had to trudge all day in the mud.”
“In a cave?!” shouted Bonbon. “But what if…”
“Don’t fret,” Twilight cut in. “She told me it has been abandoned for a long time. I don’t think she would have stopped in such a place if she was suspecting it could somehow be risky.”
“Let’s hope you’re… she’s right,” corrected Bonbon. “Goodnight Twilight. Thanks again.”
Twilight walked to hug her. “On her behest,” whispered Twilight softly. Bonbon did not respond, but under her close embrace, Twilight felt she was shivering.
⁂
The Sun had returned and this Spring day had been enjoyable, although many puddles had endured, for the greatest joy of the town’s foals. Bonbon had presented herself at 6:45 prompt, and Twilight had greeted her with a cup of hot tea and a plate full of freshly baked cookies. At seven, she put the amulet once more.
Lyra?
Twilight’s vicinity dissolved into a grandiose vista. Towering way above, sharply cut against the background of the fiery sky, the jagged ridge of an immense crest loomed like a wall of ominous darkness; it was impossible to tell how high the crags were. Four hundreds, eight hundred meters? All the details of the faces were lost in the suffusing obscurity. After an everlasting instant, the panorama disappeared, and Twilight’s mental image turned to what seemed a small grassy patch at the immediate base of a scree. A small fire was being tended, and its flickering orange light was drably reflected by the nearby grassy stones.
Surprised? The suddenness of the foreign thought startled Twilight. Here I am. Wasn’t easy to slash my way through the bushes and the brambles, but I’ve made it! It seemed to Twilight that Lyra’s thoughts were filled with excitement and triumph. Now the green boring stuff is behind me. Tomorrow will have to find a way up. Have briefly scouted a possible path along a small brook. Oddly, I think I chanced upon the rests of both a path and a ford, as if somepony once used to climb up and down regularly. It may be a mere natural construct, however. Will have to investigate tomorrow. Behold, the old legends appear to be true, something really shimmers beyond the ridge! Twilight’s sight skittered upwards, along the obscure precipice, up to the lofty crest, and, against the darkening sky, it seemed to her that the black and sawtoothed line was crowned by a very dim, but unmistakable, yellowish nimbus. Eldritch, isn’t it? Twilight felt Lyra’s soft laugh. So much for tonight. Cuddles to Bonbon. Twilight, please!, please!, care for her while I am away. Hope to be atop the crags tomorrow, and you’ll discover more of the big mystery ahead. Sleep well. Good night. And she brusquely broke the link.
“She has reached the feet of the crags unscathed,” declared Twilight. “Which is a remarkable exploit by itself. The forest and all its lowlife is now behind her. She said she had found the remains of a possible way uphill. She will investigate tomorrow. That’s all for tonight.”
Bonbon nodded silently. She lingered somewhat in the library, enjoying Twilight’s hospitality, then, at 8 o’clock, decided to go back home, swathed in the early night’s blackness.
⁂
Lyra?
The panorama that sprung to life before Twilight’s eyes was unexpectedly yet more spectacular than the evening before. Far below, she could contemplate the vastness of the Everfree forest, spreading evenly in all directions. Here and there, the solid dark green veil of the thick canopy was dappled by brighter blotches of grassy green, betraying the presence of clearings of varied sizes. Birds flying above the trees were reduced to minute mobile points. Away to the north, cleaving the holt in two and flowing sedately out of Canterlot’s dale, the steady waters of the Arlong river sparkled crimson and purple under the setting sun, while shreds of knobbly reddish clouds scudded high above in the sky, blotting out the first visible stars. Sitting on the brink chewing a stalk, replied Lyra. Climbing that darn crag has taken me the whole day. It was higher and more precipitous than I first thought, and I had even to scramble up dangerously in the steepest stretches. But I’m positive the path I took has been arranged. In two places it rounds steep ledges, and big boulders have deliberately been pushed out of the way. That cannot be natural. Somepony has intentionally levelled the track, even if it seems to be ancient, judging by the amount of gravel that covers it now. And this is not a dubious hypothesis anymore. It’s a certainty.
What? thought Twilight. How can you be so sure? What have you discovered?
Look, replied Lyra. She turned her head. Twilight’s field of view moved from the forest, was briefly obscured by the dark, barbed tooth-like silhouette of a close peak, before revealing a huge, almost completely flat expanse of a barren heath, on which only scarce and stunted bushes had managed to grow. The whole area was radiating a feeble yellow light, whose intensity increased slightly towards the horizon. At the very far range of sight, midway between the surrounding mountains, one could make out a small hillock. This hillock over there is artificial. Wait. Lyra gazed down to one of her pouches; she groped inside and drew out a pair of binoculars. She pointed them at the remote mound, disclosing details invisible to the naked eye: dark silhouetted shards, such as large monoliths, some vertical, some aslant, packed tightly together. This is a city, or I’m seeing things. The plateau is bare, it seems to be easy to rove. I estimate the horizon’s distance to be no further than a few tenths of kilometres, so I should reach those ruins tomorrow. Meanwhile, am happy to have taken blinkers to sleep. No clue as to why the whole area glows, but it appears to be totally natural, as is the uncanny tawny colour of the ground. Be ready for a big surprise. Nuzzles to y’all. Good night. The transmission ended as abruptly as the day before.
“She has reached the plateau,” explained Twilight to Bonbon. “She thinks there is a ruined city far away ahead. She’s going to head towards it tomorrow…”
⁂
Crumbled buildings. Crumbled and charred. That was about it. Everywhere. Sometimes strangely misshapen, as if the material they were made up from had partially melted before setting again. Blackened shards and rubble strewn all over the wide streets, their edges frayed by uncountable centuries, partly buried under a thin brown dust. Obviously an enormous blaze destroyed that town. Can’t tell if the buildings have decayed naturally or if they have been riven before being burnt. No other remains except some sparse rusted metallic splinters and those loosely scattered blocks. Can’t tell what they are made from, but it’s definitely not stone. Some unknown grey material, grainy and brittle. On some slabs, would swear something was engraved, but it has been smoothed out by time. Lyra was walking at a slow pace, turning her head from one side to the other as she was progressing in the ghostly city. No bones, nothing. Who inhabited here? No vegetation has grown over. The ground has been scorched so deep that it has clotted into a thick layer of brick no root can pass through. Even with a honed pick it’s hard to break. No living things, no noise, no sound, just a big silence, my hooves that clop on that hard soil, and that yellowish glow. Am alone in the middle of a cemetery, a burying ground with no graves. It’s the first time since I started I experience such an oppression. You can’t wander here and not help but feeling queasy. Will continue to explore tomorrow, maybe will find a clue? Lyra had come to what appeared to be the last building of the street, but the large track was stretching ahead, and she pushed on. After a few hundreds meters, she froze. Oh! Look! A few steps ahead, the ground had collapsed and a large crater, several tenths of meters deep, gaped open. Why this crater? A meteoritic impact? There is a big riddle to solve here, but I’m afraid alone I won’t be able to unravel it. Maybe will find a clue somewhere in the ruins? I will explore more throughly tomorrow. I sense something, and my intuition rarely misleads me. Good night! The image faded. Twilight felt deeply shaken. She realised she was drenched in sweat, as if she had suddenly awoken from a deep and grisly nightmare.
“What has happened, what has happened? Is she alright?” asked Bonbon, her voice fraught with concern.
“She has discovered a ghost town, replied Twilight. Destroyed buildings everywhere, rubbles, broken masonry of unknown material. Ancient, almost hoary. No living things. Creepy, but not menacing. She seeks leads to elucidate that mystery… I didn’t know such a place could exist within Equestria…” Twilight’s voice trailed off, and she glanced at Bonbon with bewildered eyes.
⁂
It wasn’t like the other days. The images Twilight was mentally receiving were dull, wobbling, translucent. From time to time, they would fade completely, and the library would briefly reappear, before being blotted again by Lyra’s own perceptions. Even the flow of her thoughts was sometimes lost. Am deep below the ground. Found an access hidden under… piled rubbles, as if deliberately… Stairs flinging down, uncountable… Thick metallic door, like a shelter entrance. Rooms inside. Empty inside but for decayed… Rotten… Musty air. One room… consoles, strange apparatuses. Knobs… tried some. Push… Light. Don’t know. Lyra seemed to walk along a tiny corridor. She had lit her horn, but the harsh, aggressive white magic light struggled to dispel the surrounding darkness. She rounded a corner and the frame of a slightly ajar door loomed ahead. She gently pushed the door fully open and stepped into the room beyond. She glanced around. Shelves full of books emerged from the darkness. Library! She tiptoed on along the narrow central space until the shape of a chair and a desk appeared a few meters ahead. Desk. Books on it. She lugged the chair aside, stepped forward and leaned over the desk. Look Twilight! Almighty Celestia! LOOK!
Lying on the desk was a stack of medium sized books. The topmost one had a titled engraved on its cover: EXPEDITION THETA-ORIONIS 3 FIRST YEAR. Lyra opened the book, and gazed at the first page. It was written using elegant, curvy letters. “Theta Orionis 3. Type M planet. One moon. Orbiting 200 000 000 km around the central star. Atmosphere a bit richer in oxygen than Earth, less nitrogen and some traces of carbon dioxide. Medium greenhouse effect. Mean pressure at 0 level around 150 kilopascals. Gravity at 12 m/s², but manageable. We feel slightly heavier. Rotates in 26,34523 earth hours, which yields slightly bigger days, equatorial inclination about 20° that gives rise to seasons about the same length than earthly ones. Big ressources in water, large oceans. No intelligent form of life registered. The planet is rife with life, but no cities, no trace of any deliberate works or fields. We will have to catalog all the living things we find, beginning by the smallest and identify potentially dangerous bacteria or viruses.
We have been safely dropped off the interstellar cruiser the Venturer with all the necessary paraphernalia to boot our small community. Five hundred people, mainly researchers, with some farmers and some bricklayers and plumbers. We will have to build a small town and discard the makeshift shanties we are currently living in. This small plateau seems ideally situated, plump in the temperate zone. The interstellar transmitter has been rigged. The team of the ship has assembled the atomic plant and started it. We are guaranteed to have an inexhaustible and reliable source of power at least for the millennia to come. Will keep this unofficial diary on traditional paper while Chris will digitally enter the official log directly into the main computer’s memory banks.”
By Celestia. People coming from the stars? Is that possible? Lyra leafed through the book and Twilight had some difficulty to discern what she was peering at. She briefly paused over another page: “Biologists claim no harmful bacteria identified. No suspected viruses. Ribosomal activity confirmed, proteinic synthesis based on a slightly different gamut of amino-acids. DNA-based too, double-helix using hydrogen bonds with six bases instead of four, but surprisingly compatible with ours.” What’s all this garbage? thought Lyra. She discarded the book and opened the second one, entitled, unsurprisingly “YEAR 2”. The first page described the state of the “colony”: “Phase one about to end. The houses are almost all built. Laboratories are now fully functional. Experiences to till the land and sow cereals will soon begin. Chemical analyses of the soil reveal a favourable superficial layer of loam, very rich in organic compounds. Agriculture should be a breeze. Biologists are currently examining the indigenous flora: herbs, shrubs, trees, etc. that grow around. Incidentally plant leaves appear to rely on a very similar type of chlorophyll as the earthly one. No wonder since Theta Orionis spectrum is almost identical to the Sun’s, with a peak in the green wavelengths. No acclimation needed for our imported seeds, that’s a welcomed news…” The page disappeared as Lyra decided to carry on skimming through the logbook. “Seeds planted and…” Twilight could hardly make out any word: Lyra was riffling more and more quickly through the pages: “Harvest beyond our hopes…”; “For next year, expeditions to explore the area beyond the plateau are being…”; “Over ten thousand plants identified and classified. Many edible…”; “Fauna to be catalogued next…”
Thoughtless, Lyra plonked the book on the floor, seized the next one and flung it open. There was no real opening report, as if the writer had seamlessly carried on from the previous volume. Twilight could only glimpse at the carefully written pages. “Snow… Ice…”; “Tons of grain… store”; “DNA sequencing…”; “…mitochondrial … lots of introns. Dormant proteins… What use for… metallic nanoparticles?”; “Expedition one gone!” Pages were streaking by. “Spring…” “Planting new seeds…” “…reported… a lot of animals… like an Earth pony…” The words were whirling on and on in Twilight’s mind, as if a big eddy was sucking them up. WHAT? PONY? The force of Lyra’s thought almost stunned Twilight. Lyra stopped short, and meticulously rolled back until she found the page that had caught her eye. It read: “March 24, 2546 Earth calendar. The first expedition has returned accompanied! They reported to have found a lot of animals, mainly quadrupeds. None really aggressive, many plain indifferent, a few shy and distrustful. They took gobs of holographic shots. Some of these animals are indeed very different from what we are accustomed to on Earth, and some on the contrary are astonishingly close. Indeed, they even came back with a quadruped that looks like an Earth pony, except that its coat colour is a solid blue and his mane purple, something you’d never encounter on Earth. John said there are many more, with bright variegated furs, almost like plushes, and that they are very friendly, placid and easy to approach and tame. Indeed, I could myself caress their specimen and it showed no sign of fear. It’s heartwarming to meet a highly evolved form of life that evokes our good old Earth so much. He suggested to keep a herd here for the kids to play with. I’m sure Paula will give him her green light. The next step will be to prepare cages and snares to capture the most shunning species without killing them. But that will be discussed later in the monthly council. The astronomy section has also reported that the orbit of the local Moon had to be corrected, since the intensity of Theta Orionis’ gravitational pull had been slightly misestimated. The chief astronomer gave new figures…” Blah blah blah, thought Lyra, and she resumed her cursory riffling through the rest of the book.
Arrived at the end, she chucked it, skipped the next one, and opened directly “YEAR 5”. She was about half-way through when she spotted another “pony” written on a folio. She halted and perused the page: “Have finally assembled a herd of those ponies. Some are red, some blue, some green, some black and white like ours. We have even managed to breed foals. Strangely, the colours of the foals does not seem to be related to those of their parents. They are amazingly friendly and good-tempered, the kids are simply in love with them. They play with them, ride them all day through, and some even have asked to have one sleeping with them in their bedroom. Just like smaller pets. I heard Rick has some plans concerning them, which disturbs me somewhat, because he has a reputation for botching his experiments sometimes. But since he’s managed to become Paula official and unique lover, I fear he will have carte blanche. Let’s hope nothing nasty comes out of this. Expedition two will soon return. They have already communicated us they had captured more unknown species, especially nocturnal ones. Can’t wait for their return. In the meanwhile, now that we have fully sequenced their DNA, we are carrying out the genetic modification of the local cereals to produce antibiotics and extra proteins to cover our needs. Geologists are setting up an outing to gather some rock samples all around the plateau and beyond. We hope to find a clue as to why…” The page ended here, and Lyra closed the book bluntly. Will search for more about ponies, she thought.
She disregarded the next logbooks, picked the “YEAR 10”. This time the initial pages were redacted again as a sort of exposition of the current situation. The very first page was somewhat bland, but on the second page she found something dazzling: “The herd of ponies has fairly expanded. Rick’s imagination and talent had struck home with the kids. Not only he managed to create those fanciful winged ponies by splicing some avian ADN into the 15th pair of chromosomes, but now I’ve learned that he has found a way to substitute a large useless intron by the sequence coding for the narwhal horn, hoping to breed a unicorn. The outcome is still unknown, as the resulting egg is still in the morula phase, much too soon to be able to rule out its viability, waiting in a test-tube to be implanted in its future mother’s womb. I’m sure the tykes will be mad if they can see and touch and play with a real animal that resemble the magical figure they are so fond of in all the fairy tales. More on this zany experience at a later page…” Lyra frantically leafed ahead, until she found was she was looking for, almost at the end of the current book: “Rick’s expriment has succeeded! He has presented us the first ever born real unicorn. The foal is clearly adorable, and looks really like a true unicorn, with her white front horn, her big blue eyes and golden fur. Everybody gathered here in the nursery with holographic cameras to snap this magical instant. There will be a contest in school to find her a suitable name. Paula has decided she was to become the mascot of our expedition.” The text then switched to a somewhat somber tone: “I’m not sure if I must rejoice myself of this achievement like all the others do. I know Rick from a former mission. He’s the kind of guy whose head can easily be turned by such a success. I wonder what he has in store now with his pony hocus-pocus, but I fear the worse. And since nobody will dare oppose him…”
What happened? *WHAT HAPPENED?*** Lyra closed the book, threw it on the floor, and plucked the final one nervously, on the bottom of the stack; all other volumes fell scattered all around in a loud thud. She opened it, skimmed through a few pages before chancing on an explicit passage: “It’s gobsmacking and awful! Rick’s gone way beyond the pale this time. His new folly is taking shape with the crazy benediction of our beloved chieftain Paula. This is Frankenstein reborn. Those two fillies born two years ago, the white that he has christened Celestia and the blue, Luna, not only have both wings and horns, but Rick is now teaching them to speak! Actually, he allowed me to see them: they can say “ Hello Rick” and “I love the kids” and ”I’m Luna, what’s your name?”, and all kind of simple sentences. He boasted they learn more and more words each day! It’s dreadful. When they look at you, it’s not like the others ponies. Their glance transpires intelligence, curiosity and wit. I’m positive they *do** think like us. I can’t figure out what kind of DNA mixture Rick has concocted to conceive them, because he had this particular experiment classified, but rumours speak of strands of human brain DNA, the Fox P2 gene and moreover the recently discovered extra-efficient telomerase, which is totally forbidden under the Warsaw’s convention on genetics. If he has infringed that regulation, he risks being jailed for the rest of his life, Paula will be demoted and probably sacked and the ponies killed. God knows what kind of trap he has led us into…*”
Lyra turned the page, but found nothing significant on the next one. She started skimming again, until the log abruptly stopped, somewhat before the third fourth of the book. The last page contained only a short note: “We are now experiencing recurring problems with the power supply. Failures multiply and lengthen. Something is clearly wrong with the generator, despite the assurance that it would work flawlessly forever. We have no electrical engineer amongst ourselves, with is an obvious mistake. Benedict, who claims to have some knowledge in machines and power generation, has said he’d investigate tomorrow inside the plant. He’ll be assisted by Monica and Fred. I hope this can be fixed, because it’s becoming increasing difficult to use the various electrical devices and the computers under these flaky conditions. Paul had to renounce his radiography of various ores, since the use of the X-ray generator has caused a general power failure twice in a row. The high performance computer has been shut down until the problem is fixed, and so is the transmitter. We are currently living on the breadline to avoid being totally blacked out. Meanwhile, the fifteenth expedition is still away on the seashore, capturing species of fish. James said they intended to come back early next week. We eagerly await their return.” Nothing else had been written, as if the text had come to an end without any warning.
What happened to them? thought Lyra intrigued. She carefully examined the remaining pages, but they were all blank. Nonplussed, she gazed around, until her attention was drawn to a single sheet, lying aside on the floor, one of whose edges was ragged, as if it had been hastily torn from a larger notebook. She magically lifted it until it was sufficiently close to her eyes. It was written in small, cramped, barely legible black letters, very different from the ample, almost overblown blue calligraphy used in the logbooks. She read: “**ADDITIONAL ENTRY BY TERRY, EARTH YEAR 2580 CIRCA, EXACT DATE UNKNOWN* — The atomic plant exploded. We were away on a shore expedition. We barely had the time to glimpse the ominous ball of light in the distance before the G-field fell like a big curtain and we saw no more. You know the G-field will allow anything in but will block anything out, photons or any weighty particle, to fully shield its outside from harmful radiations. It was just as if a big pitch black bubble had materialised all around the plateau. We thought everybody had died inside. So the fifteen of us settled in the middle of a grassy plain, near the G-field border, built a wooden house village using the tools we had taken with us and waited patiently for the field to vanish. We know it would, as soon as the radioactivity at its center would return to non immediately lethal levels.*
One week ago, at dawn, we had the surprise to discover that the field was gone and we could again see what lay inside. Everything had changed: immense trees and savage vines had grown into a dark, ominous forest. And worse. We were barely woken up when ponies rushed out of this new forest and attacked us! The very ponies we had bred and cared for twenty years ago. They turned against us! They were transformed too. Winged ones flew! They *really did! How, I have no clue. The unicorns had acquired the power to cast deadly rays of energy from their horns. I don’t know, I am a chemist, not a biologist, I don’t understand what has happened. Maybe they have stored some, if not all, of the energy of the explosion into their cells? Maybe it’s linked with their abnormal mitochondrial DNA? A swarm of flying ponies swooped upon us, pelting stones and logs and boughs while we were laid into by the unicorns, under the command of Rick’s twin freaks, Celestia and Luna. They all speak now, they fluently speak our own English, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had learned to write too, taught by those two winged-horned devils. May Rick burn forever in Hell’s hottest hearths. We shot a lot of them dead using our belt-phasers, but there were more and more coming and we were overpowered. I fled, and I suspect the others are now dead or scattered. I took the most dangerous path through the forest to come back here, hoping under the trees I would not be spotted. I managed to climb the crags at night unnoticed, and then walked cautiously, creeping from boulder to boulder to remain under cover. The plateau has been totally wiped out of all life it seems. I didn’t see anything moving, not even the shade of a pony. Deposits of radioactive dust on the ground produce a faint luminescence at night. I suspect the level of radiation is still fairly high, but I had no choice.*
I found the emergency shelter and left the entrance hidden under a rough heap of debris. Without the main power, I can’t reactivate the transmitter and send a distress signal. However, the auxiliary atomic battery is still functional. I will put myself in artificial hibernation and hope that none of those cursed ponies will stumble on the access of the bunker. I pray for a rescue mission to soon come to investigate. If you find this message along with the logbooks, please activate the warming sequence of the cryo #1 in the entrance room and…” Lyra’s eyes abruptly wandered away from the sheet. Cryo #1? Entrance room? A red knob? Warm? Cold? Blue? Red? Oh no… She whirled around.
Through the middle of the doorframe, a tall hunched shape, tottering from wall to wall, could be seen approaching. It was slender, and stood on two legs only. The somewhat round head, covered in a kind of shabby fur and crowned by a curious, disheveled dark mane, was set above a short neck. On each side of the torso two dangling limbs were attached; they ended in strange wriggling small tentacles. Except for the head and those weird appendages, the whole body was hidden under clothing.
At this sight, Lyra let out a small cry. Sweet Celestia, what is… this? The… human? raised his head and squinted, as if the meagre light cast by Lyra’s horn was still too strong for his eyes. “Hello?… But… But you’re a…” growled a gravelly voice, muffled in the small library space. The right forelimb of the … made a convulsive motion to some hidden pocket, and reappeared grappling a strange cylindrical metallic device, whose muzzle he pointed clumsily at Lyra.
LYRA, WATCH OUT! screamed Twilight aloud. NO! squealed Lyra hysterically in turn. DON’T! DON’T! I MEAN YOU NO —
