Fallout: Equestria - Steelheart

Fallout Equestria: Steelhearts
Written By: CyberDutchman
Edited By: JC

Chapter 1: Sunflowers and Fire

"No news is usually the best news..."

BRRRRRRN
BRRRRRRN
BRRRRRRN

I rolled over, trying to find some solace in my pillow from the bomb siren I called an alarm. I needed a few more minutes but knew it wasn't going to happen. Good old Stable-Tec, you could always count on them to find the most direct solution to a problem. Need something to wake ponies up for their shifts? Set it two decibels below the pain threshold.

BRRRRRRN
BRRRRRRN
BRRRRRRN

To make matter matters worse, no matter how I messed with never-to-be-sufficiently-damned device it never got quieter.

BRRRRRRN
BRRRR-SLAM

“One of these days I’m going to find your speaker and I’m going to STRANGLE it,” I muttered with a glare at my nightstand, hoof crushing the off button deep into the metal case. I rolled out of bed and landed with something approaching poise. The illusion was mildly spoiled as I staggered groggily through the dim glow cast by my arch nemesis. It was completely ruined when my hoof caught the corner of my work vest lying on the floor. The garment itself would have just trailed behind me to the bathroom. The five pounds of tools tucked into its various pockets begged to differ.

“SHI-”

The scores are in! Well folks, that’s a seven from the Appaloosa judge, a six from Canterlot’s representative, and… ouch, the judge from Stalliongrad is giving the landing a three! Better luck next year kid.

I slowly got back up, shaking my head to try to clear the red haze from my eyesight.

“Okay, one of THOSE mornings. Great,” I mumbled to myself.

I started the day like this about once every other week, where right from the start things just started going wrong. Every time it was like I was one of the cooking robots getting an error at the start of a recipe and then ending up with a mixing bowl containing a cup of salt and a tablespoon of flour. Just a single flaw in the program and suddenly the whole Auto-Chef was broken and needed to be reset.

Broken… no, don't think about it Gear. The face that looked back at me had gained a bruise that would be getting some note from anyone that saw it. Apart from that it was the same face that had been staring back at me for years, ever since my cutie mark came in and I was moved out of the training nursery and into a room of my own on the Upper Cog.

I slowly glanced back at my flank, knowing exactly what I would find there. Three gray gears against a maroon background greeted my eyes, two large ones and one smaller in the shape of a heart. Nothing too odd until you noticed that if you tried to turn any one gear the whole thing would seize up.

The mark had always felt right and sadly that was the problem. Gears? Sure, I was always going to get something mechanical. It was completely common for Stable 63 ponies to get “Machine Marks”. When the Overframe’s robots outnumbered you two to one and took care of almost every labor job that didn’t leave much for anyone else to do. You either repaired machines or you repaired ponies, be it physically or mentally. But my cutie mark had the bad luck of having that damned heart shape with the locked up, broken gears. At this point everypony else agreed is was nearly prophetic.

Technical adeptness? A+

Meshing with other ponies? D-

… at best.

That was the story of my life right there. “The pony who can fix and improve any machine! Just don’t go trying to engage him in small talk, gossip, Stable life, or anything of a personal nature. Guaranteed to freeze in thought and analysis or your bits back! He's the amazing Broken Heart!” That thought made me sigh long and deeply. I couldn't even remember who had first said the nickname but it hardly mattered. It was spot on after all.

One bath later and I was beginning to feel less like a zombie. I stepped into the center of the bathroom over the fine mesh grate and hit the wall stud for the dryer. The sudden updraft of warm air was always stronger than I would have wished, particularly around the flank. Never had been a fan of physical sensation there, especially not since...well, THAT.

I shook my head to banish the intrusive memory. GAH! Enough with the self pity already! Focus. Focus!

As I stepped out of the bathroom I nearly made the mistake of journeying across my room in the dark. A well timed twinge from my jaw reminded me why that would go in the mental folder labeled “Ideas: BAD”. Grumbling, I fumbled at the wall with my hoof till I found the pad for the switch and pressed it. The lights flickered on, the spell talismans taking a second to get up to their full, glaring brilliance.

My work vest lay crumpled in a pile where my fall had carried it across the floor. I picked it up by the collar, trying to avoid getting my tongue near any of the oil, lube, and burn marks dotted across it, and tossed it onto my back. A few seconds later I had my forelegs through it and was ready to start my latest “One of THOSE” days. I headed for the door then stopped halfway. Something didn’t feel right. Well, besides the chin. What was it… everything felt… lighter somehow- oh geez, how had I almost forgotten it?

“Yep, this morning’s going to be great.”

I looked back to the nightstand where my patient antagonist rested, waiting for the next morning to come round, but this time it wasn’t the center of my attention. Next to it sat a large tube, split down one side with a clasp while hinged on the other allowing it to open like a locker. A large screen dominated one of the halves. My personal Pip-Buck 3000. Customized with a shiny silver case, the paint having been “borrowed” from the maintenance storage when I was taking inventory one day, along with a deep blue tinted screen and matching text it had the appearance of being a brand new, one-off production model.

I took great pride in all the other minor tweaks I’d made to it over the years: small decreases in weight here and there, more tactile switches and buttons to really give the feeling of novelty a boost, the hinge and clasp after a BAD soldering experience- seriously, who makes a wearable device you need a tool set to take off!- and finally a transceiver cobbled together out of a couple scrap gems. That last addition meant my Pip-Buck was capable of interfacing with almost any of the Stable’s tech remotely. I might not have had telekinesis, let alone a horn, but I could tinker with anything with a spell matrix down here as well as any unicorn could.

I clamped it smoothly over my right foreleg with my teeth and paused for a second as it took in my surroundings and brought up its Eyes Forward Sparkle spell. In rapid succession the spell highlighted every item in the room to check its ID spells then displayed the interaction reticule. The overlay had unnerved me back when I first received the device and it had been prone to giving me migraines. Since then I’d grown accustomed to the pop-up windows in my vision like everypony else.

I watched the screen as it ran a quick check on me then displayed an all-clear status across the board. Just a young Stable buck in fine health as far as it was concerned. I was never sure how much I trusted that part of its functions since it was common for it to tell me I was fine even as I lay in the Infirmary clinic with the latest strain of the common cold or worse. Apparently only serious tissue damage, broken bones, and radiation seemed to warrant its attention.

Satisfied that everything was in the same working order it had been yesterday, I turned and headed out of my room, pausing long enough to ensure my security door protocols were active on my Pip-Buck’s screen before continuing. As I stepped out into the hallway I got both an immediate improvement and incidental downturn in my fortunes as a cheerful face appeared inches from mine. I’d never figured out how Sunflower always managed to be this chipper this early.

“Morning Gear! Sleep well I hope- WOAH, what happened to your face?! Did you lose a fight with that malfunctioning Protectapony you said you were working on? Wait…I swear if it was those asses from the Middle Cog I’ll-”

“What? Oh, the bruise? No no, this wasn’t from either. This is a battle scar, hard won!” My dramatic side instantly took over to turn a mundane screw up into something worth talking about for the morning walk. We’d been doing this routine for years, whoever got up first waiting on the other before heading to breakfast. We'd talk about work, any gossip that we both could relate to, and nothing in particular.

I received an incredulous and put-upon look from the goldenrod colored unicorn mare who’d greeted me. Sunflower knew me all too well to take my answer seriously and was waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.

“Battle scar aye?” This time her question came with an eyebrow raise.

Everypony always said my own eyebrow interrogations were the best they’d ever seen. “He has it down to a science. No one can hide anything from Gear’s eyebrow. ...you know, it’s kinda creepy actually… like he knows the lie before he hears it.” I’d become the unofficial dowsing rod for many residents trying to settle disputes. Someone would call me over to listen to an argument and then they’d watch my face out of the corner of their eyes. Small lie or half-truth? Small raise, maybe only a twitch. Big lie? That eyebrow would be trying to tear off my face. Truth be told I hardly noticed I did it. I listened to the arguments and the facts from both sides and asked questions I thought were relevant. What everypony else noticed instead was my terrible poker face for bullshit logic. Sunflower’s attempt to mimic my methods had too much good-natured humor in it to be even a tenth as effective.

“Honest to Celestia Sun! I was asleep in my bed, dreaming about the wonders of spellware protocols when I was startled out of my sleep by something shattering. I bolted up and saw somepony had knocked over my reading lamp while trying to steal this highly unique and stylish piece of technology!” I said, waving the hoof and Pip-Buck in Sunflowers’s direction. I got a small eye roll and a smirk in return. Sun was the only pony I'd ever felt comfortable with, the only one who didn't tell me to cut the stories or to stop talking about robot modifications. I'd never figured out why she'd started hanging around me in the first place but I was incredibly grateful she had, despite the rockiness of our friendship at times. She jerked her head down the curved corridor and began walking away slowly, the smirk still rooted firmly on her face as she waited for the show to continue.

“Come on, you know everypony is constantly trying to fiddle with it. They want it for their own! This pony was simply depraved enough to steal into my room to, well, steal it!” I declared with an exaggerated frown as I caught up with her a couple doors down.

She turned her head towards me, her own expression lightening into something between sorrow and concern. “Except I know for a fact no one’s ever been into your room or will ever get into it on their own.” The words were little more than a sigh but fell on me with the weight of a sledgehammer. My ears drooped a little to match my now real frown. But still I kept my mirthful demeanor up, willing my body to not reveal any more of how much her chiding stung.

Sun chuckled, gaining back a little of her usual jovial demeanor in the process. “Hell, even Spell had to have the Overframe open the door with her overrides the first time she caught you sleeping in and she can hack just about anything. She never has quite forgiven you for finding a way to embarrass her instead of the other way around.” she looked at me out of the corner of her eye as we walked on with a wily grin. “Though I think that slight to her ego paled in comparison to the last part of your defense. I still can’t believe you went so far as to reroute the door terminal to the Gallery’s Service desk!” She started to snicker as she went on, “You should have seen the look on her face when she was passing through the Gallery later and the reception Mr. Handy asked why she had booked ten back to back sessions with Sexual Services that afternoon. From my patch of the garden it was easy to see her spluttering as everypony around her stared and whispered. Her screaming your name afterwards was just the frosting on the cake.” She scrunched up her face till she went red then reared back and slowly fell over shouting, “GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAR!” She finished her backwards tumble and righted herself with a laugh, her cream colored mane falling away from her flank. A brilliant sunflower field caught the glow from the wall lights in a way that seemed to make it sway in an unseen breeze. She gave a nod towards the end of the hall and the promise of our assignments; I in my spell circuits and metal and she in her garden and flowers. There were times I wished I had been more interested in botany. Maybe I'd have turned out differently if I'd proven to be good at working with living things instead of robots, maybe be less of a recluse or understand other ponies' jokes and references or want to be closer to them. The sunflower seeds Sun sometimes brought with her on these morning walks certainly went a ways towards convincing me I would have probably enjoyed it even if nothing else changed.

“I guarantee that if you could have seen Spell in that moment it would go a long ways towards making up for her taking a personal interest in your career ever since,” Sun continued. There was the understatement of the century. Spell Wizard was the head of Robotic Relations and my boss. Ever since that infamous incident she’d taken pains to make sure I was never without work, usually the toughest or most injurious available. It was her job to decide how best to split up the tasks of repairing our metallic family members when they got sick or injured. She’d gained a slight stick-up-her-ass personality ever since the Overframe selected her for the job years back. But it been proven to be the right choice over and over and no one ever doubted Spell’s resolve or commitment.

“Right, thanks for reminding me of that little fiasco. No amount of extra sleep was worth what she’s been doing to me since. But enough about that, where was I?” I shot a questioning look in her direction.

“Something about a Pip-Buck thief I believe?” she said with a teasing smile.

“Ah yes, that monstrous fiend in pony disguise, how could I forget! … I’ll thank you for not belittling a very personal and traumatic experience,” I chided her as she burst out laughing.

“Hahahaha that’s fine! Keep going, just let me get something to enjoy this show with,” She pulled a small bag out of her own work vest, one much less loaded down with heavy tools than my own I noted again with mild jealousy. She levitated the bag ahead of her and a small stream of sunflower seeds came trickling out.

Now here we go! Dramatic suggestion powers activate! “Oh no! I’m not sure you deserve to hear the rest of this! All I’ve heard out of you is sarcasm and disbelief. You’re going to have to work hard to come up with a sufficient apology if you want to hear the rest of the morning’s struggle,” I said with mock disdain, eyeing the seeds discreetly.

“An apology huh…,” she mused as she squinted at the ceiling, her lips drawn together in thought. Come on Sun, you know what it's going to take so just hand over the goods!

We were approaching the intersection between the circular corridor of the Upper Cog and the perpendicular offshoot of one of the Spokes when she turned her head to look at me with exaggerated slowness.

“Hmmmmm...how about this? Tantric owes me a favor and I can cash it in for you! How’s a foursome for a full day in Sexual Services sound? They’ll start you with the basic massage and rub and you can see where it goes from there!”

I froze in place, every muscle tensing like a vice, while my eyes slowly swung towards her. The creasing of her forehead and a droop of her eyelids were the only things that told me she hadn't been serious. I stood there staring at her until my body relaxed and dropped me unsteadily back to rest. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in as my head hung low.

“Sun…you are the only one who I can't get upset with for prodding me about it. But still, please don’t. Please. Particularly from you," I said softly as I turned to face her.

Her ears were hanging at the sides of her head and her mouth was drawn to one side in obvious concern as she looked from one eye to the other. Whatever she saw in them she didn’t reveal, instead replying, “I know. I’m sorry, I know, but I did it again anyway. I worry about you Gear. I want to find a way for you to embrace YOU, all of you, celebrate in the good and laugh with the bad and try to improve it all! It's been years but you haven't made any progress in changing. If you gave the workers a chance...”

I looked up with a slight frown, my lips pulling tight into a thin line. Now hold on just a minute, let’s set some things straight here!

“Sun, I don’t consider it to be bad that I don’t want to touch others or be touched by anyone, myself included. It’s just never going to be a part of me.” She looked at me with a mildly confused expression. I paused to consider my next words. “Listen, I’ve never told anyone this, not even you, so i’ll try to put my feelings and thoughts into words the best I can. But you know what that’s like for me soooo…ah hell, here goes.”

I took in a deep breath then began speaking, slowly and methodically.

“I wish that everyone else was like me. I don’t wish I was like everyone else. It’s hardly like we need intercourse anyway! The Overframe is good at what she does! Very good! Imagine if we went around without the prevention implants. Foals and fillies born with no thought to their genetics or possible potential of other options. We can trust in something other than random chance and wishes! That’s what sex was way back before 63 and now we’re just hanging on to it for the pleasure! It’s a drug, a narcotic that everyone else can’t seem to go three days without.” I practically spat out the last words, paused for a moment to breathe, then waited to see how she’d react.

She snorted and said, “Okay, I know I implied I was allowing you to have your drama queen moment but that’s a bit much. You're really missing the point about it. If we were addicts you’d have ponies keeling over from exhaustion after round thirty or something and we’d never hear the end of it. Literally! It's just something fun and relieving that's all, not some mind control or compulsion,” she ended with a chuckle.

I shot her a dark glance. “No, I don’t think it’s a bit much. Let me ask this instead. When was the last time you went to the Services and how long ago was the time before that and the time before that one? If you think it’s so uncommon let’s hear from the pony’s mouth just how uncommon it really is,” I replied curtly.

I realized I was being intentionally confrontational but her near dismissal of my view was threatening to put cracks in mental dams I’d built long ago. What lay behind them was red, caustic, and boiling and I needed an outlet to stop it spilling over. Blushing at the candor of my question she turned to face away from me, her gaze seeming to not want to meet mine for a good ten seconds.

“Gear, that’s-” she began.

“Oh no, you opened the Stable door so now you get the rad burns! Come on, let’s hear just how long you can go without a trip to Services yourself. Let’s see if you can really understand what it must be like to not want to be touched, to not want to be kissed or licked or anything by anypony!”

She staggered as though she’d been kicked in the hind legs. Her head turned towards me but her gaze stayed locked on the wall. Then she looked me directly in the eye before replying in a rapid staccato, “Yesterday. I went in yesterday and probably three days before that and then last week on my day off. So yeah, good guess. It was only three days in between and yes, every now and then I go in to get my bits massaged. It feels really, REALLY good and I feel relaxed afterwards and do you know why I do?” As her voice rose her face congealed into an anger to match my own. “It takes my mind off work and the metal walls and the fake sunlight and all the ways my patch of garden will never be more than a bit of dirt in a metal floor. It’s why we all go to Services, to escape into something pleasant for us. But noooo, all you need is your machines and your terminal screens and you’re good! This place must always feel like paradise to you! So yeah, maybe I don’t understand. But neither do you.” She stomped her hoof on the floor to punctuate her reply, the anger hardening her face like a statue as she stared at me.

Still seething inside I shot back, “Oh yes, it must be so hard being just like everypony else and having an outlet for all that stress built into our home for you! It’s so great that there’s also a large group of other ponies here like me with our own facilities to cater to our concerns. Oh wait, no there isn’t,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “It’s me and then everyone else and I have to deal with the stress of helping to keep this place running and trying to get along with everypony here on my own because there was never anyone to turn to except you. You’re my supposed to be my best friend but you just never get...it. Any of it. Just like everypony else...no one ever gets...it,” I ended lamely, some of the anger dissipating as words finally failed me.

Well brain, you almost made it past the finish line. “A” for effort.

She continued to glare at me, the corner of her mouth twitching, until her own anger began to subside as she watched me fall deeper into self recrimination. She started to say something then stopped, her mouth hanging open for a moment or two, then continued in a broken voice.

“Maybe I don’t really get it. But don’t ever think I’m like everypony else or that they're all the same. We’re all fucked up in one way or another in here. So yes, I go to Services for the...the massage. But that’s it. Massages only. Anything more would just bring up…bad memories.” Her voice trailed off and she looked away again.

Well, the dams are now fixed, the rage behind them was frozen over, and I was the biggest asshole in the history of asses and holes. All I could do was stammer softly, incoherently for a second or two. Hmmmm...what did that remind me of again? Oh right.

BROKEN. Way to prove everyone right Gear.

I practically fell over my own tongue trying to get the words out. “Sun, I’m sorry! I-I-I didn’t…why didn’t you tell me you were having problems? If I hadn’t-“ I stammered.

She suddenly spun her head to face me, anger taking up most of what I saw with guilt and remorse taking up the rest. “Okay, now it’s my turn to tell you I don’t consider it bad or a problem that I don’t want anything more than that! It’s who I am now, just like it’s a part of you! It’s the result of my own stupidity and I accepted it! It was my fault that what happened, happened. I mean…it was just after your Cutie Marking Party and… it had come so much later than everyone else’s and… and I wanted to give you a present and it seemed like…” She chuckled once, mirthlessly. “Yeah, it seemed,” she finished with a sigh as she hung her head, small tears falling from her eyes to the floor below.

I stood there for a good half minute, taking in everything that she’d said, all the guilt, all the pain. Everything leading back to the Cutie Marking party…

The irony was I’d been so happy that day, right up till everything went to hell. Everyone had been now that I was forced to think back to that time. My mark had come in and no one had really thought too much about what it showed. We were simply celebrating my graduation, a cause for everyone to drop work for a day and party. The Overframe declared me Gear Heart, being the incredibly imaginative thinker she was, and just like that I was no longer EM6609. I was no longer the number I had been at my birth and every day since in the Nursery. I was a true member of the Stable and I had a place and a role to play!

It would have been a perfect day if not for the night that followed. Everything just went downhill from there until it became the ultimate “One of THOSE days”.

...you know, now that I thought about it that was also the very first “One of THOSE days” I’d ever had. Too bad it had only been the start!

I couldn’t help it at that point. I chuckled at the irony.

Her eyes shot up at me, glaring, daring me to jest at her baring her pain after these past shared years.
“Somehow, I don’t think either of us could have predicted I’d have a complete meltdown. Plus you’re right, it was a great day. We were both riding high as pegassi then you said you had something to show me. I was expecting some new vest or decoration, not sunflower petals and...lace. I can’t blame you for not expecting to suddenly find panicked hooves flying in every direction. I couldn’t blame anypony.” I thought about that for a second, looking up at the ceiling, my head cocked to the side in calculation. “Well, except for the ponies who are into that sort of thing. But I don’t think I have to worry about them coming to ask me to take care of things. I hear Services can cater to all needs and is never fully booked.”

Pause. Consider. “…usually.”

Pause. Consider. GULP. “I hope.”

I shook my head to clear out the disturbing images and looked down to face her again.

Her face contorted through anger then confusion then anger again and then finally…pfffffft. The air escaped her in a whistle as she fell over sideways, laughing her heart out.

“Bwahahahahaha! You’d probably put the whole Stable into lockdown by remote with as many doors as possible between you and everypony else! It would be the end of us all! Death by awkward anxiety! Hahaha!” She paused to catch her breath back then continued “…okay, I take it back, you’re getting better at joking about this. I’ll stop for now. Hahaha... owwwww, my ribs are aching!”

She smiled up at me from the floor at me with moist eyes as she finally caught her breath. “Still, I’m sorry that night ruined, well, ...us.” The smile became more pained, all of the lost moments written in every inch of it, but no less happy as she righted herself, now lying upright on the floor.

“Nah, you certainly didn’t ruin us. I mean, here we are messing around and being idiots just like any other day,” I noted. “But you also have to admit there’s not much difference between us then and us now,” I added with a questioning eyebrow raise. I trotted over and offered a hoof to help her up. She closed her eyes and hung her head slightly with a smile. She whispered something too softly for me to catch. Then she looked up, that smile lighting up her face, and took the outstretched hoof as she stood back up. The smile suddenly changed into a smirk.

“You know, we should probably get going before the other half of the Cog gets caught up in our discussion.”

“Wait, what do you mean half the-,“ my words were strangled by my mouth slamming tightly shut as three or four ponies passed by and six or so further away down the Spoke glanced back at us. A couple younger bucks among them were scowling at me in particular.

“OH SWEET CELESTIA HOW MANY PASSED BY? HOW DID I NOT NOTICE??” I managed to half whisper, half hiss at her, making sure not to meet the gaze of the ponies staring at us.

Stifling a laugh, she put her head to the side and gazed up as though tallying numbers on an invisible chalkboard. “Oh, I’d say about maybe a quarter of this shift? We were pretty near the Spoke to begin with when I dropped that balefire bomb on you to test the waters.” How she managed to feel perfectly comfortable in this situation I didn’t know.

“LUNA FUCK ME IN THE ASS WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING?” This time I did hiss the question at her, my eyes closing tightly as another pony walked by, awkwardly trying to ignore the two of us.

“Well, I did wait till no one was around to answer your question. I guess you just weren’t paying any attention at that point. Terrible thing to do really. You’re only going to reinforce everypony’s view that you’re socially clueless if you go blurting out highly personal questions to half the Stable all the time.” Her snarky grin was threatening to reach her ears.
“You know, didn’t you just say you weren’t into getting touched not three minutes ago? Yet here you are requesting it out loud! In the ass! And from Princess Luna no less! You really need to get your message straight. No wonder you confuse everypony!” Yup, the grin was now stretching out to her ears. I mentally slid a marker on the score slide of embarrassment. She had seen her shot and executed it with the precision of a master table shark.

Click, swish, THUNK. Final score? Sun: 9001. Gear: 3. Maybe 4 if you counted my earlier uncomfortable questions.

“UGGGGGHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” My voice slowly trailed off in resignation. “Okay, just…let’s go. We’re probably already late as it is.”

She gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, you can bet on that. To top everything off I bet Spell’s going to flay your hide!” She cocked her head slightly in thought. “You never did finish your Pip-Buck thief story you know.”

This time it was my turn to tease at least a little. “Well, you failed to offer up a proper and non-panic inducing form of apology-PFFFFFFFFF,” I spluttered as the bag of sunflower seeds I’d completely forgotten about in the excitement was magically rammed home over my muzzle, at least two seeds trying to find their way into my nostrils in the process.

“There’s your damned apology so finish your overly-dramatic fiction! Oh, sorry, I meant story!” she finished with a scowl trying its hardest not to burst into a full blown smile.

I managed to slip the bag far enough down that I could grab a mouthful seeds and still have freedom to talk.

Slightly muffled by the bag I replied, “This will do, yes. Thank you very much! Now let’s see, where was I? Ah yes, let’s see…,” Munch. These were GOOD seeds. “Mmmmmmmmm…” She gave me a “Really?” look and I figured it would be best not to press my luck further.

“The thief was dressed in black rags, only red slits showing where their eyes peered through the fabric. Suddenly overcome by the adrenaline rush, I kicked them off the bed and against the far wall. They looked back at me with a look of terror at my rage from almost having my precious stolen from me. Then they suddenly made a frantic dash for the door! I yelled ‘Surprise motherfucker! Let me get the door for you!’ and I charged after them.” I paused for dramatic effect, slightly spoiled by the sound of crunching sunflower seeds, then in a completely monotone voice quickly belted out, “Then my hoof caught my tool vest, I tripped and went down, and my face was first to the floor. When I got back up the thief was gone, I had a killer bruise, and that’s the end of the stor-OWWW”

I rubbed the tender spot just behind my ears where she’d bashed me upside the head with her hoof. The blow caused the seed bag to fall to the floor, mostly empty. “DRAMA QUEEN. LAST TIME I EVER GUSH FROM MY SOUL FOR A STORY FROM YOU. PLUS YOU’D NEVER SAY A LINE THAT GODDESSAWFUL,” she shouted at me then burst into laughter anew. She caught her breath with a couple more chuckles, levitated the bag back up to her, then quickly leaned against me and back again before I started to feel uncomfortable.

“I needed that. Especially after everything just now. Thank you Gear.” She seemed to consider he next words for a bit then continued, “And thank you for not leaving me behind after that damn idiocy I tried…” I heard her exhale softly.

“Well, thanks yourself for not following along with the crowd afterwards and declaring me… well, you know,” I replied, the words coming out as a low mumble at the end.

“What are best friends for, right? Well, other than to have tantrums and shouting matches at each other in public places I mean. Anyway, you know better than to listen to their BS by now. I’m living proof you can keep close friends and talk about deep, emotional things. Maybe not well, but then who honestly does?” she said in return.

I gazed ahead thoughtfully for a moment as we walked down the corridor of the Spoke then said “It’s an argument with some merits I’ll grant you. Not sure if it would hold up to experimentation and I’ll bet my anxiety comes up with a ringer of a counter argument by the end of the day. Spell will definitely see to that. But still worth considering.” My thoughts strayed to the events leading up to that moment, starting with the marring of my face and ending with a rare heart to heart with Sun.

We’d almost brought it up a few times in the past and constantly dodged around the issue but this morning it had finally been broached for the first time since that night long since past. Turned out that small bruise had helped begin to heal a much larger scar.

“You know, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it isn’t one of THOSE days.”

She glanced over with a smile and said, “I don’t know. Things certainly seem to have gotten interesting this morning.”

* * * * * * * * *

A few minutes later we made it to the canteen where the rest of the shift was gathering to get their daily oats, seeds, fiber and protein powder, and apple slices. To my dismay it turned out there wasn’t any of the low dosage Med-X powder available for the drinks that morning. Something about the algae vats, genetically modified to produce our meds, having something of a blight problem.

We looked at each other in concern when we heard that. It wasn’t a major threat to our survival, only an inconvenience, but problems had a tendency to cascade down here if they weren’t handled immediately. But neither of us was a microbiologist so there wasn’t anything we could do other than hope that the ponies who were could fix the problem soon. We made do with the standard meal allotment and sat down around a low table to eat. A few ponies waved to Sunflower or called out words of greeting and she replied in kind. I didn't get the same but then I didn't offer those same greetings so it wasn't surprising. It was just the same pointless, empty words from morning to morning so what was the point?

Not long after we sat quietly munching through breakfast, listening to the muted mass of familiar ponies milling about in their morning stupors. As usual we were taking it easy. The walk was for talking. Breakfast was for munching and really waking up. Then Sun began to focus intently on me for a few seconds. It lasted long enough to become mildly unnerving. “What? Did I get something in my coat? No?” She continued her examination for a few seconds as she sipped on a glass of clear water.

That pure water and the abundant harvests of the gardens and algae vats were part of the reason we felt relatively safe in 63. We always had more than enough for everypony. The population was kept constant by the Overframe and always at a level far below the max the Stable could support with its robotic workforce and support systems. Combined with her programmed expertise in genetic manipulation it meant we didn’t have to worry about the dangers caused by inbreeding and scarce resources. It might not be the most exciting of lifestyles, minus the occasional hysteria when some critical system hiccuped, but it was one you could be content with. Or at least one I’d been content with. I remembered Sun’s condemnation of the metal world we lived in. Considering how many years we’d spent down here together as friends without me noticing it really didn’t do much to help my reputation for cluelessness.

Sunflower put the glass down carefully and said, “Nothing. It’s not important.”

I was about to dig deeper since that was obviously a bold faced lie and given events just prior I was apprehensive about what that lie might be hiding. Then I noticed her bring her hoof up to cover her mouth, stifling a laugh. Wait, did she do that just to get a rise out of me?

“MASTER GEAR HEART!” A voice boomed out directly behind me, sending chills up and down my spine. Nope, she’d just seen this new problem coming from a mile away! Celestia, what now?!

I spun around in my seat in a blur and found myself staring straight into a shimmering, unblinking eye. A similar disk hovered to either side of the one almost directly in my face, all three reflecting my now terrified face back at me in their glowing silver surfaces. They pulled back at the same time as I violently recoiled, revealing the jointed appendages attached to them. A little behind them they attached to a silver sphere with three larger appendages terminating on a stalk extending from the bottom of the sphere. The whole assemblage was hovering sedately a couple feet off the ground, drifting slightly one way then the other.

From somewhere deep inside the body of the hovering machine came a heavily accented voice, good-natured and refined. “Pardon me for the intrusion sir, but I appear to be in need of some aid if you are available.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as my heart rate came down from its sudden spike.

“Manesworth, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I’ve told you before that there’s such a thing as personal space among us meatbags,” I said as I turned around to face the robot, pointing a hoof at his central eye lens.

The silver and gray Mr. Handy robot retracted it’s eyes back in shame, paused for a second, then brought up it’s cutting tool as it began lightly rapping its spherical casing with the blade guard.

“Oh dear sir, you’re absolutely right! How could I have possibly forgotten! It was only last week when you were in the middle of some work on SQ0132 from the trash sorting wing. Forgive me, but at the time you had your head so deep into his chassis I wasn’t sure you’d hear me and max volume seemed the appropriate remedy. I ah… I do apologize for the shocks. I hope they weren’t terribly painful…?” he inquired hesitantly.

Luna, could I get a horn? Just a little horn? It didn’t have to be huge, just enough to get the magic flowing? Just enough to not have to stick my head inside robots with possibly live wires where I could be startled into bridging them? Was it really so much to ask?

“No, Manesworth, they weren’t that bad. Nothing a trip to the Infirmary couldn’t fix. Now what was it you needed again?”I asked with a put-upon sigh. I was more than happy to help, but his timing was goddesssawful.

“Ah yes, well you see I find myself in a bit of a bother. There’s this signal that’s been bumping around in my matrix ever since a couple days ago. The blasted thing is interrupting my runtimes and generally making a nuisance of itself! I was wondering if you might find some way to add it to my filters?” the robot asked with a sway of his eye stalks.

“You mean you can’t isolate it on your own? Is it a matrix glitch?” I asked with sudden concern.

Such things did happen unfortunately. After two hundred years even the most well built bot could start losing momentary connection to some of the gems that made up its thought processors. If access was cut to one that held self diagnostics it could cause the bot to spiral into delusions and loss of self identity. Without correcting they lost higher functions and could start looping a single command for eternity or just plain went insane. In 63 it usually only happened as the result of massive trauma, usually a power door closing on the chassis or similar. Most of the time we could repair the damage, hook gems back into receptors, and format old spellware back to working order. But other times a gem or two would be cracked and would have to be replaced. When that happened memory and personality could be lost, all of it in the worst cases.

Manesworth had been around me since my nursery days plus my first assignment with RR had involved working on him. I had even secretly etched a curled mustache onto the front of his chassis during my last on-the-job training session. He’d been good natured enough to go along with it and now pantomimed twirling it whenever he was thinking.
I’d hate to see him afflicted with a matrix glitch and lose the things that made him unique. I didn’t want to see a new personality, a new set of memories inhabit his body. He was family to me. A slightly loopy or eccentric uncle perhaps, but no different than anypony else down here really. As if reading my thoughts he began stroking the air below his eyes with a long drawing motion, as though he were the sinister villain from one of the Nursery stories about the wastelands above, deep in thought or at least the robot equivalent.

“Hmmmmmmm. I don’t believe so sir, my diagnostics are reporting back just fine. It’s just… It’s devilishly complex and and analyzing it is beyond my poor circuits. I have it stored in memory but it keeps trying to load itself onto my communicator. Even worse it keeps trying to get me to transmit it out without authentication! But protocols are protocols and nothing un-analyzed gets put onto the network.” He tapped his clawed manipulator to each word as he repeated the security mantra. “The strain it's putting on my runtimes is probably why I failed to remember to introduce my presence from a distance per your request. Too much gunking up the old processors! Since I’ve been less than successful in dealing with it on my own, I was hoping you might be able to install something from the hardware side of things perhaps? You’ve always been so wonderful at that, such an inquisitive mind and sharp knack for machines, oh yes!” He leaned in towards me and I swear I could see non-existent eyebrows waggling to match the flattery.

I sighed and paused a moment to think. “Maybe. Shouldn’t be too hard to install some form of band-stop filter to give you access to everything on either end of it. But it’ll limit the rest of your range near it though so I’ll need to take a look at your spellware to come up with a proper fix. Just let me finish up with Sunflower Breeze and I’ll meet you in the Spire,” I said with an imploring look, hoping it wouldn’t be lost on my mechanical friend.

It turned out to not matter as the mare in question spoke up at that moment. “It’s okay Gear, I’m finished with breakfast and need to get to my assignment. You may have the terror of Spell to deal with but I’ve got Buttercup and while she’s less… combative than Spell she’s no pushover. Worthy, take good care of him,” she said as she smiled at the robotic addition to our party. “I expect you to return him unsinged, unshocked, and unbruised this time. Well, no more bruised than this at any rate,” she added as she tossed a hoof in the direction of my jaw. “I’ll catch up with you later Gear!” She stuck out her foreleg and bumped hooves with me, then began to rise from her sitting position.

“No wait, what were you-” I began to turn to her then found my attention consumed by Manesworth’s sudden glee.

“Oh splendid! I’m so glad I won’t be interrupting anything immediately dire with my little hiccup. Shall we get going Master Gear?”

I looked back to Sun but she was already halfway to the edge of the gardens just beyond the outer track of the Gallery. I sighed one last time then turned to frown at my robot companion, wondering if he’d ever really learn to gauge personal situations well. Given his age and the generations of ponies he’d seen come and go without picking up the skill, I wouldn’t bet on it.

“There are times you remind me far too much of myself. Come on, let’s get going.” I got up from my seat, took the tray in my mouth and headed for the waste chute. Sun’s confusing behavior and Manesworth’s insistence had resulted in me not being able to finish my breakfast before it went cold and soggy.

Leaving the tray with the Mr. Handy on kitchen duty, a red model who’d been nicknamed Scorch after a particularly spectacular baking accident, I turned and began walking towards the center of the Gallery. The mustachioed Mr. Handy followed at my side, an eye camera twitching now and then.

The paths through the Gallery were winding and scenic and I slowed my pace slightly to enjoy them. This was Stable scenic though, all aesthetics given a purpose. Beyond providing food for everyone the tall sunflowers and apple trees were also meant to hide the view of the metallic world beyond the verdant meadow as you walked among them. The trees stood right next to the paths and the brilliant golden blooms just beyond them shown through them like hundreds of golden suns. The effect was slightly spoiled by the blue tint to the glow, the same as my room light.

Wait… okay, that’s odd. Usually I could get lost in this place, just sit down and take it in. But this time I couldn’t help but hear the echoing of the chamber, see that actinic light coming in from all directions, and feel the waft of the air vents and fans bringing with them the scent of grease and metal. Damn, I guess that conversation from earlier still had me out of sorts.

The deception of the gardens vanished at center of the Gallery. Flowers and trees gave way to a circle of burnished metal fifty feet or so in width. Centered in that circle was a ring of four elevators, curved glass tubes facing outwards with white matte walls, the space behind and between them taken up with endless electrical routing and piping. The base of the Overframe’s Spire.

My gaze turned upwards, following the slow curve of the mass of machinery as it blended into a massive mechanical stalactite that curved outwards to form the ceiling of the Gallery. The elevator tubes climbed straight up before disappearing into the undulating mass of piping as it all began to fade into an indistinct surface above. The entire Stable became a series of stacked wheels when viewed like this; the circular halls of the three Cogs, the connecting Spokes radiating inward from them, the Gallery forming the hub of the wheels, and finally the axle of the Spire rising to the floor of the wasted world above, the center of our world below.

Miles upon miles of maintenance corridors, pipes, conduits, stairs, elevators, and store rooms separated each level. The end result was a structure more akin to an inverted version of the old-world skyscrapers shown in Stable-Tec videos and posters. A tower of air surrounded by a sky of metal and stone.

From time to time I had nightmares about the Spire cracking, crumbling, and finally crashing to the Gallery below, all the disease and poisons of the world above falling in after it. Monsters, terrible and mutilated, followed swiftly behind. It was a common fear in 63 and one the therapists had less success in dealing with than others. After all, it was the topic no one wanted to discuss if it could be avoided.

“Master Gear? Are you alright sir?”

I looked over at the robot hovering in front of the nearest elevator, eyes twisted on their arms as if he were somepony tilting their head to one side in curiosity. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there gazing upwards. I shook my head to clear my thoughts then joined him at the entryway.

I let him go first then squeezed into the room that was left. The elevators often felt a little cramped, but a Mr. Handy was worth two ponies in the available space. It would have been downright claustrophobic if not for the glass walls of the elevator car.

I glanced over my shoulder as the lift began its steady ascent. If I couldn’t finish my conversation with Sun then I could at least do my job and do it well. Plus it would help take my mind off those concerns. “Can you tell me anything more about this signal? How strong is it, what range is it in, where were you when you received it, that sort of thing?”

Manesworth considered for a second then replied, “It has quite the presence sir, though it’s seems to be garbled in all the traffic. It’s overlapping part of the band used for network communication. Easy to see why I’ve been so challenged to successfully isolate it, too much changing on top of it to really see the whole picture you see, and I don’t have the spare processing to sort it out. Rather bothersome since I can’t remove it and can’t transmit it on until I have it analyzed for any nasty bugs. Protocols and whatnot as I mentioned.”

Shoot, that meant to filter out the signal I’d probably have to block his ability to communicate matrix to matrix. If that happened he’d have to speak vocally to communicate with anypony or anybot and wouldn’t be able to interface with much of the Stable systems. The frequency of the signal intrigued me though. “Weird. Where were you again when you picked it up?”

The robot looked at me then brought his eye stalks straight up as if deep in thought. “I was on the maintenance rounds that day and was doing the inspection of the Stable entrance systems on the upper level. About halfway through the communications check I noticed the comms array was picking up a signal on a Stable-Tec frequency. I opened the log to see what all the fuss was about and that’s when it got lodged in the old dome,” he said as he once more tapped his body’s casing with an arm.

That wasn’t too surprising. We received the occasional signal, usually degraded almost completely to static, from old Stable-Tec relays out in the world above. Timestamps, hoofshake protocols between Stable-Tec systems, requests for maintenance that would never be followed up on now that the world had ended, that sort of thing.

The Overframe sent out the occasional status request in return and got back the same response from the relays each time: still radioactive, still cold and dark, still worse than the Stable.

We’d never received anything else in return, no hint that other Stables besides 63 were still working out there, no sign that anypony was rebuilding civilization. Just relays and monitoring stations, clicking down the rads little by little, year by year as they wasted away and went offline one after the next.

But nothing from those lists downloaded itself with a priority override. The only thing I’d heard of that would do that was… oh.

OH SHIT.

I felt a chill run down my spine for the third time that day. This was much more terrifying than the prospect of being shocked or getting startled by a mad robot though. Far, far more so.

The only thing I knew of that would do that was the Stable-Tec “All Clear” signal. We drilled in executing it about once every other month. Check all the bots, help Facilities prep the Stable to empty, etc. It was the most boring of all the drills since no one expected to ever have to carry it out and it had no bearing on the problems we faced on a daily basis.

“Okay, that’s probably jumping to conclusions. Probably…” I said out loud to calm my nerves, giving me something to focus on other than my thoughts.

“Pardon Master Gear? I’m afraid I missed that.”

“Sorry pal, it’s nothing. You know how the thought of anything from outside the Stable making it’s way in or affecting us tends to get everyone stampeding around in a panic. I’m afraid this may do far worse than that.” I was suddenly very glad I hadn’t asked about the signal when I was in the canteen with Sun. Manesworth blurting out that he had an unknown signal from beyond the door in a crowded room would have rapidly turned the day back into “one of THOSE”.

“Oh dear sir, I hadn’t thought of that. You’re quite right though. Everyone does seem to get their knickers in a twist over the state of the world,” he said with nothing but sincerity.

“Only one problem with that Manesworth. None of us have 'knickers'. Heck, I’m not even sure where you learned that word or what it even means!” I replied

I was saved from an explanatory lecture by the lift reaching the crossover between the transparent tube and the Spire interior. The glass gave way as the white walls to either side of us slanted inward until we were encased in a dark tube. Lights at the base of the lift floor sparked on, casting a yellowish glow over everything as we ascended up the shaft. I’d always hated this part of the ride, the feeling of claustrophobia that hit as the darkness descended inside the cramped cylinder. The lights did little to improve it as they only deepened the shadows and washed out any color. Manesworth taking up most of the available space was just the icing on the anxiety cake. About thirty seconds later the lift began to slow on its track.

As we came to a halt the wall before us split into a set of sliding panels and sweet, sweet illumination flooded into the tube as I practically bounded out of the elevator. We were on the main level of the Spire, a circular corridor similar to a miniature Cog with the workshops and offices on the exterior of the ring. A little off to either side of the elevator the corridor wall curved inward to become one of the four hallways leading to the center of the Spire and the Overframe’s chamber. You know, Stable-Tec really went gear mad with the design of 63. Gears inside gears inside more gears. Whoever was in charge of designing this place must have had a “thing” for the look. A creepily OBSESSIVE “thing”.

I began anxiously walking down the curving corridor towards the Robot Relations office and workshops. We shared the Spire’s upper levels with the various other maintenance departments with their own specific charges like water, HVAC, and the like.

As I passed by the open doors I nodded to the familiar ponies I saw working on bits of malfunctioning machinery: Brass Glow taking apart a section of pipework to refurbish, Greased Lightning putting together a pump with his trademark speed, Sapphire Spirit tearing into the guts of a disabled terminal, her horn glowing to light up the interior of the case, and dozens of others all focused on keeping our home running. The ones who noticed me all nodded back, simply as one professional to another or as friendly co-workers.

I always felt at home here among the fellow gearheads and spellhacks of the Stable. I shared way more in common with them than I did with the ponies from the Gallery and its social focus. While they might not include me in some of their more personal discussions I was always welcome to help hash out a problem they had. Friendly if not cozy, professional if not inviting. I could live with that.

Manesworth on the other hoof was waving to everypony who looked up as we passed, many of them returning his greeting with a wave of their own or smiled with a hoof drawn across their face like a mustache. He was a regular sight up here and considered to be something of a mascot for how personable a robot could be if you interacted with them enough.

Finally we reached my department, the bright red RR sign flickering over the door. As I stepped inside I realized Sun hadn’t even gotten close to the reality of the situation when she suggested Spell Wizard was going to flay me alive.

That would have been a mercy.

“HEY! LIMPDICK! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN???” A petite mare stood up from a desk at the back of the two tiered office, her face a promise of fire and death. This was why everypony never felt bad about bitching about her behind her back. Fantastic mechanic and coder, but the mean streak nearly overshadowed it all.

“I HAD TO GIVE YOUR ASSIGNMENT TO STEEL KICK TO FINISH! THAT MEANS YOU GET HIS NEXT THREE ASSIGNMENTS WHILE HE GETS YOUR WORK CREDITS. GOT THAT PIN-PRICK?”

It always amazed me how such a small pony could have a voice capable of rattling doors and peeling paint. The diminutive lavender mare stormed down the ramp from the top of the storage room, her mane falling over one of her eyes as she did. Her desk was perched at the edge of the balcony formed by the storage room’s ceiling, allowing her to observe everything in the office from on high. No, it wasn’t creepy at all...

As she made it to the bottom she looked up at me and blew her turquoise mane out of her eyes, the hair swinging to one side of her neck while its cyan streaks fell back into their usual lines. Anyone meeting her for the first time would have mistaken her for a filly but no one kept that illusion for long. The intimidating “oh good, now I have to deal with you” look that was her base expression let first timers know that something was off. The stream of expletives, profanity, and insults that followed whenever she spoke filled in the rest of the picture.

She marched up to me -Celestia, she barely came up to my shoulders and I was still almost ready to run right then- and spit out through gritted teeth, “Speak now or forever hold your dick after I cut it off. You have the right to come up with the best damn excuse I’ve ever heard or I will personally turn you over to Services to practice on. I’ll even make sure you get at least ten sessions in a row so they can experiment and REALLY get to know you. Fair’s fair and all, RIGHT?”

Sunflower could get away with joking about my lack of libido without me losing my mind because she was my best friend and had gone through that mess with me. Spell got away with it because she wasn’t joking or even threatening me with it. She was simply stating the facts which she would back up with interest for the time and effort it would cost her to do so. Plus she had mentioned ten sessions and that did not give me hope for the immediate future. Time to get diplomatic and see if I couldn’t avert disaster!

*SQUEAK*

...dammit Gear...okay, let’s try that again. “Sunflower and I ended up having a longer walk than-”

“YOU INVERTED-COCK PIECE OF SHIT, I SWEAR IF YOU ARE AN HOUR LATE TO YOUR SHIFT BECAUSE YOU WERE TALKING TO YOUR PERFECT NOT-GIRLFRIEND I AM GOING TO TRY A NEW PIECE OF ROBOTIC SURGERY I’VE BEEN DYING TO SEE: TURNING A STALLION INTO A MARE!”

Where did the air for this pony come from? There was no way her lungs could hold enough to shout all that. Right then, that tactic didn’t work so let’s just go for the parts she’s going to care about. “No, but then Manesworth came to ask me for help and we ended up talking for-” I replied in as placating a voice as I could muster.

Spell seemed to notice my silver clad companion for the first time as he hovered closer to me, shyly waving his manipulator arm as he did so. Her demeanor did an instant 180.

“Oh, morning Worthy! Sorry you had to see that. I’ve just had it up to here with him being late. It would almost be better if he was stupid enough to try to slack off like he used to, at least then it would show that he had the balls to willfully blow me off. But instead he’s just so clueless that he gets sidetracked by everything and everypony,” she ended with a sigh as she looked right past me at the robot. “Honestly, that’s more insulting to me. Like I haven’t made enough of an impression with him yet, so the foal keeps sticking his hoof into the outlet and getting shocked without understanding cause and effect. Just insultingly clueless… ” She brought up a hoof to smack her forehead in aggravation and then ran it down her face while scowling.

Thanks Boss, what a glowing character reference. Though I’d heard similar before and was more focused on once again seeing the sheer difference in how she treated ponies versus how she treated robots. The contrast was always startling when you were used to nothing but rage.

Manesworth made a tut-tut motion with his manipulator then said, “Now now Madame Spell, he really doesn’t mean it. Yes he can be ...well… a tad absent minded at times perhaps? But it’s always with the best intentions I can assure you! Some small thing to fix or somepony in need of aid. He’s very helpful and perhaps if not reliable in the usual sense then perhaps he has more of the...big picture type of attitude? Maintenance, including Robot Relations, is supposed to project an air of ‘always ready to serve’. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Et tu, Manesworth? Et tu? Actually, he would probably love to hear me say that given his fondness for Shakesmare’s classics. The lecture he’d given me on that piece of ancient society had lasted hours while I worked.

Then to my utter amazement Spell said, “...fine, I’ll let him off the hook with making up the assignment after hours. But ONLY if he can prove he was being helpful to somepony in a USEFUL manner.”

Wait, was she pouting now? She was, her lip was twitching! Manesworth, teach me your secrets so that I might learn to soothe this savage beast!

While Spell held our artificial family members in infinitely higher regard than the rest of us, even they were usually incapable of getting her to go easier on any living, breathing pony. I hadn’t somehow walked through a portal into an alternate world somewhere along the way had I?

Manesworth perked up at the favorable turn of events. “Oh I assure you he can! I delayed him while he was eating his morning vitals to enquire if he might help me with a little problem.”

Spell gave him a curious look. “Oh really? Got another stuck motivator or is it a lens this time?” she asked.

I began to wonder what it would take to receive similar treatment from Spell and placed the chances of it ever happening right up there with getting my dream horn. The wondering lasted no time at all as the mechanical moron continued his explanation. “No ma'am, I’m running in tip top shape actually! But I’ve been horribly distracted due to recent circumstances. You see, I picked up a signal from out- are you alright sir? You seem to be suffering from muscle spasms! Oh dear... perhaps there is something amiss with him Ma’am.”

I fell over, clutching at the back hoof I’d kicked out to silence him. It had done it’s job, but had also been like kicking a lead brick. Forget shocking myself; between trips and self inflicted wounds I was going to be lucky to get through this day with my body intact!

“NO! No, I’m fine. Really. Manes, would you give us a moment? Go ahead and get yourself comfortable at my station and I’ll be over with Spell to take a look. Just as soon as I can stand up again…” I said as I turned to him, vigorously nodded my head towards my workbench and terminal, trying to get my point across as I unsteadily got to my hooves. He had no subtlety and his volume always went to max at the worst moments. EVERYPONY would know if he started describing the situation.

He stared at me for a moment then his cameras shot up in comprehension. Thank Luna, he’d understood what I was trying to get at. I breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Oh! Ohhh, yes I believe that will be for the best! I’ll leave you two to discuss things. Still sir, I’m so happy you’re moving on after that terrible incident. I wish you and Madame Spell the best of luck! I’m certain Sunflower will as well!” he exclaimed excitedly as he turned and floated away, bobbing back and forth as he went. The entire workshop watched him in stunned silence, mouths hanging open, then turned their slack jawed gazes towards me.

Wait, what? Wished us... DAMMIT MANESWORTH, THAT WASN’T IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS WHAT I MEANT! WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM?! YOU’VE KILLED ME YOU MECHANICAL MENACE!

I felt a cold sweat start as I slowly turned my head to look at Spell Wizard next to me. She had set her hooves far apart, her head pulled back in disgust. Her face began to contort into incandescent rage and she began to rear up on her hind legs to unleash utter destruction. The moment stretched out for what seemed like an eternity. I’d always heard your life flashed before your eyes as you died, the mind slowing the world down to accommodate a full review of all your choices.

My mind was apparently too busy trying to slow time as much as it could to bother tossing up my life to view.

I saw only one way out in that moment and took it. “He picked up the all clear signal on his maintenance run! It’s stuck in his matrix!” I hissed at her in panic, soft enough no one else could hear.

Well, that certainly did the trick.

Her eyes flew wide as half her face suddenly dropped in confusion, the other side taking a moment to catch up. The same effect continued down the rest of her till eventually reaching one of the legs holding her up. It buckled, casting her sideways onto the floor. I was about to move to help her up when her head came up slowly, eyes staring straight through the floor at something only she could see. Then she looked up at me and for the first time in my life I felt true pity for Spell. That was quickly overtaken by terror as I saw the panic that had instantly consumed her.

Oh that was NOT a good sign and for two very crucial reasons! One: I needed her focused and level headed to help me figure this out and this was as far as one could be from that. She had never once shown any sort of concern in front of us before. Not even a flicker. She WAS the face of the RR department and everyone else under her seeing her like this would only spread more confusion and panic. And Two: Between Manesworth’s ASTRONOMICAL blunder and me suddenly bumping the signal problem up the chain to her I’d just dropped one pile each of social suicide and and chaos onto her head. She might currently be too preoccupied to be thinking about it, but I wasn’t and I knew what it meant.

I was still dead. Very, VERY, no question about it, slowly, painfully, graphically, scream inducing, DEAD. It had just been moved to a later date for scheduling purposes.

Still, that was for Future Gear to worry about and the poor bastard was already so utterly screwed so I might as well finish the job. She was back to staring at the floor as I knelt down in front of the tiny mare and whispered “Spell? Spell! Come on Boss, snap out of it! We need to figure out what this thing is that he’s fished out of the static!”

Her ears perked up and her head whipped up to stare at me, eyes narrowing as her senses returned. “Wait, you mean you don’t know what it is? WHY WOULD YOU EVER SAY THAT IF YOU WEREN’T SURE WHAT IT WAS YOU IDIOT?!?” Ah good, the rage was back. This was the Spell Wizard I was familiar with! I could work with-OOOOOOF. I gasped as her forehoof dug deep into my groin as she swept a picture perfect uppercut into me from where she lay.

Yup, this was the old Spell. Dammit…

“YOU. LITTLE. PIECE. OF- FOLLOW ME. We’re going to see this fucking thing and then I’m taking your balls and bronzing them to make a desk ornament!” she said loudly as she pointed her hoof into my face. She looked back out over the collection of stunned ponies, their work completely forgotten in the crazed display they’d watched. “As for the rest of you brainless voyeurs… GET BACK TO YOUR FUCKING ASSIGNMENTS BEFORE I ADD ALL YOUR BALLS AND OVARIES TO THAT ORNAMENT! NOW!!!”

Everypony quickly became completely engrossed in their work.

She began stomping away, her hooves leaving small scratches in the rubbing matting of the floor. I limped along behind, hind legs scrunching together in dull agony, trying not to meet anypony’s gaze. No one dared look up but I caught the scared, concerned, and supremely confused sets of eyes that swiveled my way as we both passed one table after another on our way to my work station. Manesworth was floating next to my table with a concerned expression, his arms tucked up around his spherical body.

Spell Wizard walked over to where her personal rolling chair sat and jumped into it. I caught a glimpse of the glowing terminal screen that formed her Cutie Mark as her leap brought her flank into clear view. The plush fabric of her chair raised her up level with me as she kicked off the nearest table with practiced ease, coming to rest directly besides my own seat. I gingerly lifted myself into my own chair then half sat, half lay on one haunch to stave off the aching. I looked over at the silver robot in anger, trying to figure out how I’d repay him for the injury his cluelessness had caused me. He returned the stare with confusion then hovered closer.

“I take it she didn’t like the proposal then sir? Did you forget the ring?” he whispered.

Okay, his circuits were as good as FRIED!

“MANESWORTH, I’M GOING TO-” I began slowly, grinding my teeth with each word.

“You’re going to show me this fucking signal and then you’re going to die. That is what you’re going to do,” I heard from my right side, the temperature of the rooming dropping below freezing for a moment as the words drained every last bit of warmth to be found.

“No, I-I mean-...yes ma’am,” I stammered.

I glared over at the Mr. Handy, one eyebrow raised to let him know that I was in a deadly serious state. “...Manesworth, would you please float over here so I can hook into your matrix? NOW.” I said in as calm a manner as I could, forcefully punctuating the request with the last word.

“Oh dear...I do apologize sir. It would appear I’ve done it again, haven’t I?...” Manesworth asked in a quiet voice. His eye cameras were tucked tightly into the sides of his chassis as he watched me, his torch and saw arms hanging limply at his sides. His manipulator was held up in front of him, the forked claw point at the floor, the arm slowly extending and retracting.

Oh no, I was not about to buy into that and let him off the hook! I mean, what the hell did he think was going to happen when he tried to play matchmaker with the most psychotically short tempered mare in 63?! Sunshine and rainbows? Luna castrate me with a plasma torch, it was possibly the dumbest idea I’d ever heard! Actually, that would have been more helpful by comparison to what he’d actually done!

I pulled an adapter cable from the desk drawer and handed him one end as I plugged the other into my terminal. I looked over to make sure he’d plugged himself in then turned back to the faintly glowing screen as greenish letters began to appear.

STABLE-TEC INDUSTRIES (TM) UNIFIED MATRIX SPELLWARE

NETWORK TERMLINK PROTOCOLS: ...DISABLED

USER: GEAR_HEART

EXTERNAL CONNECTION DETECTED...

CONNECTION VERIFIED: MR_HANDY_JC0014

STANDBY

“Okay, connection’s good and I’m disconnected from the net just to be safe. Let’s see what we have in that misfiring mind of yours,” I said as I glanced over at him. I was going for incandescent anger but my heart just wasn’t in it. Instead he got a look made up of equal parts annoyance and sullen apathy. I’d never been able to maintain strong emotions for any length of time. The energy for them just seemed to dry up far faster than in most other ponies. I could stay mildly amused or annoyed or anything you would call low key for long periods of time. But full out laughter, anger, grief… those came and passed in the blink of an eye.

He had the good sense not to comment with the apparent rise in my mood and I turned back to the terminal. I copied his logs over to the data manager and pulled up the signal analysis tools. A series of waves and squiggles began to trace across the side of the screen. It was complete chaos, but it was a chaos I was familiar with and began plugging in various filters to remove the standard communications traffic. What I was left with was…

Hell if I knew what this was supposed to mean!

On the screen the usual waves and static had been replaced with a complicated series of spikes and flatlines, as if the pulse of somepony in the Infirmary suddenly tried the Tango. I’d seen similar signals before. This was instruction code, small snippets of spellware meant to execute a program. But the ones I’d seen had come from the Overframe, small updates put out every couple of months to correct for lifetimes of error buildups in the Stable systems. They were never as complex as this though.

“Well there’s your problem. You’ve got the mother of all instruction packets lodged in your matrix Manesworth.” I grimaced at the glowing screen, hoping for some spark of inspiration to tell me what he’d found. None came of course. I added it to the list of desires and wishes right after my dream horn. I turned to look at Spell. Maybe she had some idea what it all meant because I sure as heck didn’t. We’d never gotten instruction code from the Stable-Tec network before, only audio logs of the patriotic “You’re an inspiration to us all/Keep carrying on/A bright world awaits after your struggle ends” variety, usually replete with one musical diddy or another, or data dumps with rad counts and other environmental feeds. What really confused me was the all-clear was supposed to be a notice, a simple statement of “World no longer worse than the Stable, time to upgrade!” It wasn’t supposed to be a complete system rewrite.

The small unicorn next to me was staring at the screen, her eyes squinting hard at the lines scrolling across it. She placed a hoof on the interface and moved the cursor over a small repeating section of the code. The squint turned into a full frown as she stared at it. Then suddenly she began typing lightning fast across the keyboard. Lines of code began to roll down the screen in rapid succession. Half of what I saw made no sense and once again I was reminded that while I may have tricked her on occasion there was no doubt which of us was the more accomplished code hack.

She stopped typing as the terminal began to run whatever program she’d given it, whirring and clicking away. A little less than a minute later it went silent as two lines of faint glowing green replaced the text that had been flowing down the screen.

PROTOCOL CONFIRMED: STABLE-TEC COMMS PROTOCOL

INSTRUCTION CODE TXT FILE: THE DOOR TO THE FUTURE OPENS

WELL SHIT. Not much question about that.

This really was it. The all-clear, the instructions to open the Stable door. We were being told to leave. 63 was done. It had sheltered us, fed us, and even bred us, and now we were supposed to give it up to return to the world above. A world none of us had seen or touched or thought about in anything other than nightmares and ghost stories. Yeah, this was going to go GREAT! Geeeeeez...

“Spell…” I said in a half whisper. My mind kept throwing up pictures of Spell having a complete mental breakdown any second now. But no rising moan, no maniacal laughter, no heaving sobs came from her. Just complete, unmoving silence.
Then she sighed abruptly, her jaw squared and her lips drawn back to a thin line. Her eyes frowned and she turned the one I could see my way.

“We have duties to carry out. You going to make me have to remind you of them or did your excuse for a brain at least manage to take in that much of the training lessons?” she asked as her eyebrow rose. Collected, cool, and insulting. Sadist-in-chief Spell. As much as I hated to admit it I was glad to not see the panic from earlier. Now if I could just put my own mind back in order after that balefire bomb of a reveal detonated in it.

“No ma’am, I remember. I’ll shoot a network note to the Overframe and get ready… somehow” I said in a slow voice, looking her directly in the eyes. I would have my existential crisis later when this was all over. Though preferably it would be in the presence of lots of booze so I had an excuse for when I crashed.

That became less of a concern as Spell shouted, “NO!” She glared at me for a second before she relaxed a little. “I have to-” she began before catching herself with a shake then continued, “I’m required to give this to her myself. I’m the one that reports to her directly. It’s my responsibility to see this to her as the RR chief.”

Technically none of that was true. The Overframe was the final authority in the Stable and anyone from any of the divisions could have delivered it. Hell, even someone from the non-gearhead departments could have delivered it via terminal and it wouldn’t have changed anything. But that wasn’t what this was really about.

Spell wasn’t concerned about her responsibility as our boss, didn’t care about her role in the Stable, not in that moment, not when she knew this was the end of it all. No, this was about her getting to tell the Overframe and then be praised for bringing the instructions to her notice. She needed to hear it one more time, whatever it took. I couldn’t bring myself to deny her that either. Plus if I tried I honestly think she'd murder me.

“Oh. OH. Right, sorry I almost went over your head there Boss! So, I-um, I guess I’ll get started on the system checks for the robots, make sure they’re all ready for the outsi-mmmmmf” I began, looking up at a sketchy mental checklist of the exit steps we’d learned in training, when she squashed her hoof into my mouth.

Oh joy, I didn’t get to finish breakfast and now any hint of leftover flavor was replaced by dust, grease, and a metallic zing.

“No, you’re not going anywhere numbnuts. I need you and Manesworth to come with me. I have to deliver this in person as per my role. That means I need the source: him,” she said tilting her head in the Mr. Handy’s direction, “and I need a way to pull it from him while we’re there: you. Well, not you, but that eyesore you call a Pip-Buck. Since you’re the only one who knows what you’ve done to that blueprint reject you come with it. Intact...” She said the last word as if she were a filly who’d just had their favorite toy taken away.

Okay, I really needed to figure out if I respected, hated, or completely feared Spell one of these days. Considering I’d been at this job for nearly ten years it seemed unlikely. In all of that time she’d managed to make me go from one to the other to the next within the space of one sentence so often I now had a permanent case of whiplash. As if in sympathy to the thought my neck began to ache dully.

“Right, I guess that makes sense. Though there’s a port you could use on the terminal there to move the data. No need for me to come along.” The last place I wanted to go right now was anywhere Spell was going. Personal experience told me only pain awaited at that location. “Or I could always make you one of these mods! Wouldn’t take but thirty minutes and some spares,” I said in a gesture of goodwill, looking for any avenue of escape. It was thrown back in my face immediately.

“Not on your worst day Cockless. I’ll take the factory model over that bloated piece of modern art any day. Plus I want a buffer in case we need to cut the transfer. Better it blows out your crud than Worthy or the terminal” she replied with a sniff. Okay, back to hatred now. Mess with my mods and you're messing with me.

“Sure, no problem. Let’s get going. Sooner we get this all over with the better,” I said as I simmered at the insulting name and depiction of my handiwork. I hopped down from my seat. Or at least I tried to. In the rush over the decrypted message I’d forgotten about Spell’s blow to me from earlier. My hindlegs buckled beneath me as they came together to nurse my tender loins.

“Ahhhh shit. Forgot about that. You going to make it down the hall?” she asked in a mildly sympathetic and annoyed voice. I waved a hoof in the universal sign for “give me a moment” as I looked at the floor in concentration, trying to force the pain out of my notice. I heard her prance in place for a second or two before she muttered, “Aw, dammit. Here, one second…”

Glancing back over my shoulder in pain, I watched as Spell levitated a small metallic syringe out of a recessed pocket of her work vest then proceeded to jab me in the flank with it before I could react. She removed it instantly and slipped the now empty vial back into her vest. Immediately I felt a cool numbness flow through me. The feeling began to warm before finally disappearing into a complete lack of sensation, the pain gone with it.

I felt my mouth drop a little as I raised a questioning eyebrow at the lavender mare. Where had she gotten a full strength Med-X injector? They were under lock and key in the Infirmary and only applied by the Head Nurse herself! Hell, even the final distillation of the drug from the vats was handled by robots to make sure no one skimmed off the top.
Spell returned my look with a dark gaze and hissed softly, “Oh no, not one word. You get shocked from your clumsiness then go running off for meds every time so I don’t want to hear it. I’ve got my own bruises to numb just like you. So you say one word to anyone and your ass is grass for the composter.”

Now I remembered the other emotion Spell elicited from me so often. Utter confusion.

Had she bribed the nurse for it or reprogrammed a bot to bring the concentrate to her? That would explain the chem but then where had she gotten the injector? Actually, knowing her she might have made it from scratch. My brain filed away the revelation that Spell was possibly an addict for later to discuss with somepony who understood psychology better than I did. Particularly the psychology of idiocy and madness. Not to mention she was still anxious enough to reveal it to me so openly in order to be the first one to deliver the data to the Overframe. So much for my estimation that she’d reined in her panic in. Dammit Spell…

“...right...thanks. I’m good. The pain’s going away pretty quickly,” I said for the benefit of anypony who might have thought of eavesdropping. “Let’s get going.”

I glanced to where Manesworth had been but found only empty air. I looked around and found him clear across the room, conversing with Apple Core as she soldered a motor together. I whistled at him and gave a small flick of my hoof towards the door when looked my way.

All the original anger at his cluelessness had been replaced by a deep ocean of worry over the all-clear, Spell’s possible instability, and the all important “what the hell was I going to do after 63?” issue. My mind started jumping back and forth too fast to actually give real thought to any of the concerns but not so fast that I couldn’t clearly see the worst outcome for each problem. In order: utter panic and chaos at leaving, Spell lying comatose after an overdose, and finally… the same thing I’d always done I guess. Fix robots and keep to myself. That last thought was sobering and somehow more terrifying than all the others. I mean, was that really all I was? Somepony to fix robots and machines?It really seemed that was the only answer available.

I’d never given that question any thought before because it had never had any meaning. Stable 63 was sealed and I had to help keep it running or else we all died. Now though...now that boundary was coming down and a far, far larger world lay beyond it. One that had only ever existed as a never ending parade of nightmares and monsters for all of us. Oh this was going to be fantastic...

I didn’t have time to continue pondering ever worse possibilities as Spell walked down the aisle to the end of the room and nearly destroyed the door button with her magic, not being tall enough to reach it with her hoof and her magic currently empowered by wild emotion. She walked through as soon as the bottom edge of the door had risen enough to allow her underneath. Manesworth and I had to wait a few seconds longer as the door finished opening before we could follow after her.

Casting a quick glance back at my desk, I allowed myself a moment to remember some of the achievements I’d accomplished sitting in that chair: first repaired department terminal blinking to life, first spell matrix debugged, and finally the moment my Pip-Buck flared to life after I’d finished modifying it. This might be the last time I ever saw the room and my piece of it before we emptied it out for good.

I was so engrossed in the memory I nearly tripped over Spell Wizard as she paused before the hallway leading to the Overframe’s core. She had slowed down from her initial determined walk into an uneasy crawl as she approached the corridor and was now breathing heavily before it. As I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted to wait (I know I did) she breathed in deeply, exhaled, and began walking purposefully forward.

Well, guess this was it. She’s wasn’t turning back after that, fears be damned.

The corridor seemed far longer than it had ever felt before, the time to the security door at the end stretching out before us. But eventually we were standing before the steel portal, Spell taking center with myself and Manesworth flanking her, illuminated by the purple glow of the camera eye set into the ceiling above it. The camera rotated slightly to better focus on the trio standing before it. A female voice, crisp and almost sterile in inflection, rasped into fullness from speakers at the upper corners of the doorway.

“Spell Wizard. Gear Heart. Welcome. Do you require assistance in your tasks?”

Spell stuttered for a moment then replied hesitantly, “Good morning Overframe. We uh-, we don’t require any assistance. No wait, I guess we do. May we come in?” Her voice had dropped to a soft melody, all anger, harshness, and annoyance dropped as she spoke with the synthetic voice.

“What is the nature of your need?”

“We have a set of instruction code we’d like you to examine. It was lodged in Manesworth’s matrix while he was doing his assignment checks. It’s ridiculously complex and we need help determining its purpose.”

Wait, we know what the code does. It was the instructions for the Overframe to begin the all-clear so why-. The thought ended with a look at Spell to my side. Her eyes were red and I could see her tilting her head back, refusing to blink lest the tears she was restraining slipped out. She wasn’t going to acknowledge what she was delivering until there was no doubt, no alternative in sight. I turned my head away in shame, not wanting to acknowledge Spell’s denial. There was nothing I could say or do in that moment that would have been of any help to either of us.

“Understood. Please enter and proceed to inquiry terminal.”

The door slid upward into the ceiling, the locks setting into place with a dull click as the metal slab came to a stop. As we stepped through the entrance to the core a series of blue-white lights flickered to life around the outer wall of the cylindrical room. The glow they cast fell on dozens of green display screens ticking away the health of the Stable and its caretaker. A second set of lights flicked on, lighting up a thick steel column in the center of the space. The surface was smooth and virtually unbroken from the floor to right below the ceiling. A ring at the top sprouted bundles of cables, tubes, and vents which snaked away into the walls. A large screen facing the doorway was inset into the cylinder with a large keyboard protruding out below it, the only breaks in the polished metal cylinder. Etched into the metal above the screen were two lines of bold text.

CRUSADER PROTOFRAME

P.A.X 1.0

Here she was, our ever watching protector and mother. The Overframe.

I’d spent countless hours in this chamber like most other members of the maintenance departments. The Overframe was an endless source of workarounds and useful knowledge. For me that had usually taken the form of some piece of code or a Stable schematic I needed to repair or retrieve a wayward robot. A number of times I’d asked about the past when some history lesson from the Nursery came to mind and every now and then I would ask the Overframe about herself. That last topic had come up more and more as time went by and I felt the distance between myself and everypony else increasing.

Spell pulled ahead of us and walked over to one of the display boards. Below it was a small folding ladder which she carried in her teeth to the center console. She placed it below the keyboard and stepped up onto it, balancing precariously at the top as she began typing with her forelegs.

Years back I’d had the unfortunate opportunity to be present when a new recruit, Grease Tin, had snickered at seeing Spell’s required height enhancer. The memory of the resulting moans and cracking sounds had kept me awake for the next couple of nights. Grease had come back from the Infirmary a week later and had shown nothing but terrified respect for the boss ever since.

I heard the acceptance tone ring out from the terminal at which point Spell turned her head towards me just enough that she didn’t have to take her eyes of the screen.

“I’m ready for the signal Gear, send it over.”

I turned to Manesworth and said, “Manes, I’m going to do a direct copy via my Pip-Buck from your matrix to the Overframe’s analysis spellware. Mind plugging in again?”

I passed him the connection plug from my device and began tabbing over on the screen till I had the data interface up.
Okay...there’s the network...and the Overframe’s link...okay, connected...and the balefirewall is up. I grimaced at the thought of what might happen to my Pip-Buck if we had to cut the connection. To cut a spell being sent over the air meant using a counterspell to disrupt and end it. With a signal this strong and complex it might very well backfire at the source. Violently.

I glanced up to make sure the robot had completed the connection on his end then looked back down with a nod when I confirmed he had.

The modified gem set on top of the Pip-Buck began to glow a dull red beneath its clear plastic enclosure as the spell was transferred to the network location, a small trail of glowing magic and sparks connecting my terminal to the Overframe’s. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch into a small grin as my tinkering once again proved its worth.

I waited as the massive spell code was copied over bit by bit and felt both relief and disappointment when Spell put a hoof in the air to tell me the download was complete. My tech worked flawlessly and gotten around all of the issues we’d been running into... and I’d just used it to end our lives as we knew them. Whooooo…

The diminutive mare leaned in closer to the screen, rocking a bit on the ladder before catching herself.

“Damn, this is going to be running for a small eternity. You two might want to pull up chairs and grab some cards.”

Manesworth floated over next to me and coughed slightly. “Sir, would you mind if we used this opportunity to add that filter? I’m very glad we were able to copy it over even if we couldn’t get rid of it entirely. I’m certain the Overframe will have it and a matching fix figured out in no time. But I would appreciate the full use of my faculties not being spent on blocking or analyzing the code. If you don’t mind of course.” He had all of his appendages tucked inclose to his body and was using his most servile tone. I was going to tell him to cut it out and decided against it. I’d call it self inflicted punishment and let it go at that.

“Sure, should have everything we need in here,” I said as I walked over to a maintenance locker and pulled out a set of small gems and cables. It would be rough and I’d have to go through the paperwork to restock what I took out but getting Manesworth back to his normal, slightly more perceptive self ASAP would be worth it. It only took me a minute or two to fix everything together into a compact package.

“Okay, let’s give it a shot. Worthy can you turn around so I can fit this in?”

The robot spun his arms around so his manipulator was to the side then brought it up in his best saluting pose as he spun around to present his back to me. “Yes sir! More than happy to do so and be done with this!”

Despite the earlier incident I found myself chuckling at his antics. It really was impossible to stay mad at him. That or I just really could not keep up those emotions. I paused for a moment to consider and then shrugged in mild annoyance. There was no real way to tell but I knew where I would place my money in a bet.

I tapped the tab at the back of his chassis that held down the access plate to his matrix. It popped up to reveal a jumble of wires and glowing gems sparkling back and forth. I cleared a path to his receiver and for once I didn’t get shocked as I plugged the wires into the right ports and watched as the new gems began to faintly glow. I said a prayer to Luna for small miracles. Within a second or two they were just as bright as the rest and I felt confident I’d done the job properly. The plate swung shut with a distinct click as the latch caught.

“There, that take care of it?”

He spun around to face me and tilted all of his camera arms to the side as though considering my question. The mechanical eyes perked straight up almost immediately as he began shaking ever so slightly.

“OH GLORIOUS CLARITY! My mind is clear as crystal! No more of that gunk and muck floating about clogging up the mental pipes now! Thank you Master Gear!”

He began floating back and forth humming incoherently and I couldn’t help but chuckle once more. The needle swung a little in favor of Manesworth not being unlikeable and I felt a little better about his earlier blunder. Not much, but a little. I watched him with a sly smirk until he stopped and looked back at me.

“Oh dear. It’s gone rather quiet I’m afraid. I knew that I’d be cut off from the network but… well, I do hope you and Miss Spell can find a permanent solution to the problem soon.”

I grimaced at his remark, my main concern coming to pass. My fix had completely cut out the network for him. I had hoped he’d be able to catch bits of it on the low and high end of the filter but the cut in the signal wasn’t clean enough for that. A world of magic-riding sound, images, and conversation between the robots and the Overframe had suddenly vanished, a world he had known for more than a hundred years most likely.

“Sorry about that. If it weren’t for the preparation work we’re going to be swamped with soon I’d look into it today. But as things are… you may have to settle into it for a while. Though maybe this will teach you a lesson about downloading unusual spell commands from the comms system? Hmmmm?”

“Sir, trust me when I say I’m not setting a claw near that blasted thing again without the spellware equivalent of a hazmat suit. It’s just not hygienic anymore,” he ended with a shudder.

“Hey, speaking of unusual spell commands, she’s nearly finished decrypting and applying the code now. Take a seat and let’s see what we’re supposed to do with this mess,” Spell said as she reminded us both about what we’d come here to do in the first place.

Manesworth and I pulled up on either side of her ladder, which for once put her head above mine. She’d apparently noticed as well for I noticed the faint glimmer of a smirk cross her face and then disappear as a flurry of text began scrolling down the terminal in front of us. Suddenly it was replaced with a giant radiation warning symbol, the Stable universal code for danger.

“Warning! Improper authentication detected! Foreign spell-tatzlwurm identified! Balefirewall breached! Attempting quarantine...”

I stared at the large speaker above us as the impossible words continued. The Overframe never got infected, it was her job to kill every bug that plagued the robots. She’d never been infected in the centuries after the world ended! It was impossible!

Yet it only continued.

“Quarantine failed! Attempting to reset syste-”

Without warning everything went dark, the terminal and the lights blinking out as one. The ever present dim red glow of the independent emergency lighting cast deep shadows and I was reminded of the claustrophobic ride up the spire I’d endured not twenty minutes earlier. I felt a shiver go down my spine as confusion reigned in my mind.

A loud pop sounded from the room speakers followed by faint static. It quickly began rising in volume and pitch. I looked at Spell in concern as she stared at the dead terminal, her mouth working quickly without producing a sound. She turned to face me, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape, as the white noise continued to build till it became a physical blow to our bodies and ears, like the wailing of the dead and the end of the world wrapped into one. I fell to the ground, covering my ears with my hoofs, my eyes held tightly shut against the static. An impact on my back told me that Spell had fallen off her ladder and landed on me before bouncing off. I couldn’t do anything to help her. The pain was unbearable and I noticed a moist heat in my nose and mouth that had to be blood. I could feel my teeth grinding as my muscles fought against seizing up without success. I curled into a ball, trying to cover my ears as best I could.

Then a female voice boomed out over all of it, rising in volume till it overcame the underlying static. The room shook and the ceiling speakers began failing one by one in small explosions of sparks and metal till only the large one directly over the inquiry terminal remained. What came out of it was so loud as to be almost unintelligible but what did come through made no sense.

“THE DOOR IS OPENED! WE WILL SAVE OUR WORLD FROM THOSE THAT WOULD SEE IT BURN!”

Electrical lines began bursting from their connections to the surrounding terminals as the room shook violently with the final word. Fire exploded behind the walls and shards of glass flew across the circular death trap as power surged through the systems. Abruptly the static cut out along with the voice.

Silence reigned except for the popping of small flames along the walls and the crackling of sparks as they rained down from the ceiling. I slowly began to uncurl, my body aching from the tension in every muscle. As I rose on my forelegs I looked around. The room was still dark save for the light of the flames and the emergency lights. I crawled over to where Spell lay and saw that her body was heaving and twitching.

Dammit, that noise had done more damage to her than to me! Or at least she was feeling it more I realized. She wasn’t the one still pumped up on a dose of Med-X. Shoot, maybe she had another one on her, anything to get her moving and out of here.

“Spell! Spell, hold on I’ll get-” I began, as she slowly lifted her head to look at me. Tears streamed down her face as empty, soundless sobbing caused her to convulse. Her eyes were bloodshot and a trickle of red streamed from one of her nostrils. She opened her mouth once, closed it, then opened it again.

A faint whine escaped and then, “What have I done? I’ve killed her. She’s gone. I’VE KILLED HER!” The last words came out as a shrill scream, all of her composure lost. She began weeping openly.

Her anguish was cut off abruptly as the remaining speaker buzzed to life again, a long tone like a sigh coming from it. The terminal screen activated again, the greenish glow around the edge the only sign that it was working.

Spell jumped to her hooves, somehow ignoring the pain she must have been feeling given what we both just experienced. I was so bent out of shape and aching in places I didn’t know I could ache that I doubted I could get back up without help.

“Overframe!”

The cry was overflowing grief, guilt, and hope. I raised a hoof and began to tell her to go get help but was cut off by a small voice escaping the speaker.

“Those who ignited the fire shall burn in it.”

A crashing sound behind us made my head jerk around. A panel just inside the doorway to the room had fallen to the floor revealing a dark, concealed space above it. Out of it lowered a set of five tubes joined by large disks at intervals down their length. A large drum followed behind it as the whole assembly came to a halt then rotated and pivoted to point the ends of the tubes at us. A small whirring split the silence as the barrels of the weapon began spinning.

* * * * * * * * *

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Tinkerer - You can salvage any situation! Or at least anything you might find afterwards! You can now make basic modifications to any weapons and armor you find.

Note: Gear Heart

S.P.E.C.I.A.L
Strength: 4
Perception: 8
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 8
Agility: 4
Luck: 5