Short Circuit

The stallion spent approximately one hour simply looking through my programming. He did not seem much for talking, but I took no issue with that fact. I kept my mind occupied on what I needed to do next.

I must return to Doctor Sparks laboratory. Surely, something there will show me what kind of research he was working on. It would be unwise to take the trip so soon, as there would most likely be guards posted at the "crime scene". I must not wait too long, though, as eventually they will remove or destroy any evidence.

I still pondered over how I had any basic knowledge. I knew language, etiquette, programming, and even some combat. At the same time, however, I had no memory of how I had acquired these skills. Surely, if I were at all a living pony, I would have retained something more.

"Your circuitry goes way deeper than I thought," the stallion said, "Your leg and head implants are the only ones showing externally, but on the inside you're practically a robot."

"How do you mean exactly?" I asked quizzically.

"Well aside from your brain bein' wired up, which I expected, most of your internal organs are entirely synthetic. Your heart, lungs, pretty much everything important in you is made of metal or plastic. You're as close to a robot as you can get without bein' one."

"Well, I am glad to know it, at least, but what exactly does it mean for me?"

"Well, aside from your parts being worth twenty years of my salary, basically means you're a tough son of a gun. You've got a few weapons in there, reflex enhancers, adrenaline reserves... I wouldn't wanna tangle with ya." He chuckled nervously. "It, uh, also explains your lack of memories. Whatever pony you used to be is probably just a tiny fraction of what you are now."

Silence reigned for several minutes before it grew tiresome once more. I turned to the stallion, whose name, I now realized, I had yet to learn.

"What are you called?"

"Eh, just call me Iron, I suppose," he sighed.

"Very well. Iron, have you ever met Doctor Sparks?" I inquired.

He paused what he was doing for just a moment before beginning to tap away at the laptop touch-screen again.

"Uh, nah. I heard of him, sure. Met though? Not sure anyone but the cops had that privilege."

"Privilege?" I puzzled, "was he highly esteemed?"

Iron scoffed.

"Guess, yer not programmed for sarcasm, huh? Like I told ya, most ponies really ain't respectin' of cybers around here. He was seen as a real nut-job by most, and an extremist to the rest. He had this idea that through his technology, we could build some sorta utopia."

"He does not sound like one with ill intention to me, why was he so poorly received?" I tried to understand.

"It wasn't so much his intentions as his methods. Or at least, the rumors about his methods. Ponies said they seen him sneakin' around with big ol' sacks in the dead o' night. Some said they could see 'em squirmin', like somepony was in inside." He squinted at his computer screen for a moment. "I never believed all of that, but he was still a very odd pony. Probably just goin' crazy in his old age."

"Do you know if he had any implants?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I wanted to know more about my creator.

"He was chock full of 'em, they were basically his life support. A way to keep workin' past his expiration date." Iron scratched at his muzzle with a foreleg. He glanced over at me, then back to his screen hesitantly.

"What is it, is something wrong?" I stood up as Iron quickly pressed a button on his touch-screen.

"Sorry, I just gotta see what this program is all about." He got up and took a defensive stance between me and his laptop. I could see a progress bar on the screen beginning to execute one of my programs.

"What are you doing?! You said-" I took a step toward him, but before I could lift a hoof to him, my vision began fading, and I felt myself hit the floor before losing consciousness.

"He's opening his eyes. I knew it was only a matter of time. Welcome to our little slice of heaven, Sparc."