Fragments of the Old World
Rusty Gears awoke as the sun began to peek through his window. He stretched out on his bed with a yawn before checking his clock. The little glowing numbers showed that it was close to 7 A.M.
The reddish brown unicorn lazily slid out of his bed. He tried to fix his brass colored mane with a hoof but to little avail. Clearly, that was a thing that would be easier with water, he decided.
As Rusty made his way to the bathroom, he listened to the sounds of his hooves on the cold, firm, dull metal flooring that was so common around in the little town where he lived. The bathroom door opened with a squeak.
The door remained open as he began his business. There was no need to close it, as he lived alone. He sometimes considered himself lucky for it. Some houses had an entire extended family crammed into it.
The reason he was alone, though, was not lucky. It's not because his family was rich enough to afford a new house. No pony around here was. It wasn't because he was one of the government officials in the town. He was just an average pony.
When he was a foal, his father was lost in a quake. His father had been a construction worker. He was one of the many that were trying to fix the building, which had been damaged by a terrorist attack. A quake struck without any of the normal warnings, and the building collapsed.
His mother was lost to an illness a few years ago. The doctors knew what was wrong with her, but the New Moon had been blocking requisitions for medical supplies at the time. They said that the town had already received its medical rations. The rations given out are barely enough as is, though, and the town was suffering from a wave of disease.
Shaking his head, Rusty pushed aside those memories. After fixing his mane with a comb and some water, he left the bathroom. He walked lazily through his bedroom and into the kitchen. It was in the same state as the rest of his house, which was in the same state as the rest of the town.
The centuries-old structures were mottled with spots where the metal has been eaten away or worn down by the activities of ponies over time. Most of the machines have long been reduced to relatively crude patchwork. Exposed wires, missing cases, welds in places they obviously weren't originally.
Most of his house looked slightly more worn down than others, though. There was rarely enough time to go around and fix every little thing. It didn't matter too much to him, so long as everything is kept running properly.
In his kitchen, the only current source of light was from the outside, shining through the two small slots near the roof. It wasn't enough to illuminate every corner of the room, but it was plenty for him to navigated to his fridge. It was full of any of his perishable rations, for obvious reasons. Rusty pulled the door open and smiled as he grabbed an unlabeled bottle with his hoof.
Alcohol has its benefits. Of all the illegal substances, it held the lowest penalty if you're caught with it in your possession. It was also his favorite.
He popped the bottle open and took a few sips of the liquid. The pleasant warmth landed in his stomach and slowly spread outward. Carrying his guilty pleasure, Rusty climbed the stairs to his little workshop.
The windows let in much more light than in his kitchen, despite the shutters being closed. This was due to the fact that the whole ground floor was one room, windows lining the wall that faced out into the street. Rusty set his bottle on the desk where he usually started his day. He flicked the switch, turning on the lights. The sudden brightness caused him to squint slightly as he made his way to his desk.
The screen on his personal console lit up as he jabbed at the keyboard. He clicked into the shipment log that he received yesterday and read through it. It was all normal things. Broken machines, probably pulled out of some scrap yard far away, separated into small shipments and sent to grinders all over the land.
That's what Rusty Gears was, a grinder. He had been since he was born. Most ponies would take on the jobs that their parents do. Usually, they would stay that for the rest of their lives.
His job was to sort out old machines, cut them into pieces, and then organize the pieces. The sorted components would be picked up, examined, and then taken away to be sold or recycled. He would receive a pay on the quantity, quality, and overall value of the parts.
Unfortunately, that meant his pay varied depending on what he got in the shipments. Sometimes, the scrap would mostly be too old for even a single piece to still work. He'd still get money for the recyclable material, but it was much less than what he got for working parts.
With a quiet sigh, Rusty got up from his chair and walked over to the unorganized pile of scrap. He did a quick survey of visible machines, taking note of the cheaper and more simple ones. Another sigh escaped his lips as he observed mostly scrap that will have to be sent off for recycling.
He pulled a smashed toaster out of the pile and brought it to a table. Rusty grabbed a toolbox and placed it on the table next to the toaster. He opened up the box, pulled out a screwdriver, and began his work.
Several hours had passed since Rusty had started his day. His bottle of rum was now hidden away in his fridge once more. A third of the pile of scrap now sat in many separated bits placed into labeled boxes.
Rusty grabbed what looked like the handlebars of a scooter and pulled on it. The rest of the scooter seemed to be buried in the scrap, but he didn't feel like digging it out. He pulled harder, causing the pile of junk to shift.
Suddenly, the scooter pulled free, sending half of the pile of scrap to fall, quite noisily, to the floor. Rusty winced, his ears ringing slightly. He looked up from the mess on the floor and spotted something unusual. A cylinder of blue protruding from the pile. It looked sort of like a hoof.
Rusty gave it a closer look and his eyes widened. It was a hoof! He quickly lifted most of the scrap up off the table, revealing the form of a blue pony.
His heart began to race. A pony! It appeared to be a pegasus mare with a blue coat and purple mane. She had been buried in scrap on his table for how long now? Four, maybe five hours? There was no way she could still be alive under all the weight of the jagged metal.
Just as Rusty thought he was going to throw up, he spotted something unusual. Where this "pony's" skin was torn, pristine looking metal and wiring was revealed. He got up close to examine it and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't a pony, just a well made android.
Only one problem remained. The dead machine looked too new on the inside. The blue fur and rubber exterior were covered in dirt, rust, and even a little mold. Aside from some abnormal damage, the interior looked like it was made just yesterday.
He knew it wasn't. Nothing that arrived here was ever cleaned off or new. He had to do that himself. Aside from that, the exterior would also be clean, but it wasn't.
Rusty pushed all the scrap that was on the floor under the table. He picked up the android and moved it to the washing area. He rinsed the fur thoroughly, being slightly creeped out by the fact that it felt like real fur. It didn't help that where the skin still stayed on, it looked like a relatively normal mare. When he was done scrubbing, he started drying her off with a towel.
It quickly occurred to him that he was being needlessly gently. It was just a dead machine, not a real pony. He finished drying it off and set it down on a table, examining his work.
The fake fur had been remarkably easy to clean. Before he started, the android looked almost like a corpse dug out of the ground. Now the color showed much better. The blue fur looked almost pristine. As did the mane, but the mane was still a tangled mess.
He started checking the android for any sort of data ports. He figured that if the metal showing through the holes looked so fresh, maybe the circuits still worked. He checked all the normal spots, the base of the skull, between the shoulders, behind the ears, and even some androids have ports in the pits of their forelegs.
Rusty didn't see a single hole. He continued to search down the body until the get to where the hind legs attached. A blush crept onto his face as he slid his hoof between her legs. He sincerely hoped it wasn't there as a guilty feeling crept into him.
Much to his frustration, he felt an irregularity on the skin. He spread the legs apart to get a look and sure enough, the port was there. He silently wished he could assault the designer with a wrench as the grabbed a data cord.
His face heated up further as he plugged the cord in between her legs. He tried to shake the awkward feelings out of his head as he walked over to his console. Rusty furrowed his brow as he saw a strange window on the screen.
It bore a simple image. Two black letters, "NC," sat over a blue symbol on a white background. A small bit of text sat beneath the main image, simply reading, "Loading, " in little black letters that pulsed slightly.
The image was suddenly replaced by a little spinning circle that and a box that declared that the program was running a diagnostic test. He figured that this must be the control program for the android. What confused him is the fact that it was automatically downloaded. The only other time he worked with an android, he had to requisition a disc to download the interface program.
The screen changed once again. This time, it showed a bunch of boxes around a silhouette of a pony. Most of the status indicators were red except for one. The box labeled, "SCC," was shown as, "Resting." The thing that Rusty paid most attention to was the status of the power core. "Missing or damaged"
Without a power core, he couldn't awaken the android. He moved back to the android. To him, it almost looked like she was asleep.
He started searching for a way to remove the skin, but there didn't seem to be one. He grabbed a knife and began cutting at the skin where the computer claimed the power core was.
Rusty didn't even need to wonder if the core was damaged. Something had punched a hole straight into the chest of the android. He peeled the skin off of the machine and began unscrewing the damage panel covering the core.
He set the panel aside, keeping the screws in their respective holes so that he didn't lose them. He looked into the machine and frowned. The power core was there, alright, but he didn't quite recognize the design. As he pulled it out, he frowned even further.
The connection of it looked quite curious. There were two plugs with three pins in each one and an empty hole. Looking through the hole, he could see the light of the room shining through the hole that had been made against the core's design.
He set the power core down on the table. It was too different from anything he had seen before. This means that nothing he might have will work to give her power.
He sighed and looked back to the rest of the scrap sitting under the table where he left it. He knew somepony that might have an idea where to get a power core for the android, but he has a work quota to meet. He took one last look at the android.
"I'll get you fixed." He said, his voice hoarse from disuse. "That's a promise." He rested a hoof on the broken power core for a moment before he turned back to his work.
Author's Note
Hello and thank you to anyone who made it this far. This is the first time I've ever written anything and posted it for everyone to see.
Constructive criticism is welcome, so if you see anything wrong or feel like something could be better, please tell me.
Thanks for reading!
Fragments of the Old World
The sun had fallen below the horizon. Its bright, white light is replaced by dim, yellow streetlights buzzing above the streets. If all were quiet and one would listen, they could hear it in Rusty's workshop.
The noises outside weren't what the lone occupant of the building focused on, however. Instead, he had his focus on the little bucket in front of him. A pleasant ringing sound emanated from the container as a few metal pieces were dropped into it. It was a comforting sound for Rusty. He always saved this bucket for last, so when his work day was done he could drop the metal pieces in and stow them away.
Today, he was especially relieved to finish his work. The mysterious mechanical mare still lay lifelessly on a table. Rusty was going to try to fix that.
Dinner comes first, however. The lone stallion trotted downstairs to his kitchen. He grabbed a ration pack from his fridge and opened it up. It was his favorite kind. Most of the contents were plain. Oatmeal, dry bread, a sheet of dehydrated seaweed, and the thing that makes the meal, 10 little cubes of dry pineapple.
Rusty always loved, "fruit snacks," as the package called them. They always made him wonder where such wonderful flavors come from. Nothing else seems to be as tasty or colorful as fruit snacks. He feels this is a question he will take to his grave.
Regardless, he ate the bland parts of his meal and took the little paper sack of fruit with him. Rusty went up the stairs and got ready for his mission. The broken power core was placed in his saddlebag, as well as a coin purse full of colorful discs and his ID. He closed up the bag and set it on his back, ready to go.
The door to his home made a quiet squeak as it swung open, something Rusty noted to fix later. Stepping out onto the street, he looked skyward to see a pleasant sight. The New Moon sat almost directly overhead with the ring of the shattered moon behind it. Countless small, shiny dots could be seen flowing to and from the massive metal moon.
The shattered moon, however, was far more amazing to Rusty. The ring of debris was a testament to the cataclysm that the world had survived. The stories said... Honestly, he doesn't remember the history behind it. He only remembers that it was destroyed in the Great War that ravaged the land so long ago.
Looking back down to the world, Rusty told himself that his focus would be entirely on the task at hand until it was complete. The door to his home was shut and locked and the unicorn began on his path. His plan was to visit an old friend of his. They don't hang out much, due to living in different sectors, but Rusty remembers that his friend, Iron Heart, often sold rare objects. Hopefully, his friend would be at least able to give him some information on the device.
As he walked, the stallion saw many of the usual sights along this route. A small gambling club occupied an alleyway. It was always astonishing to him that ponies would actually risk swindling away what little they get to begin with. Nonetheless, the little club stayed as busy and rowdy as always.
Further along, the way was the government operated building that handed out rations. A cargo shuttle sat atop the building, indicating that tomorrow was ration day. The shuttles always looked out of place. Their hulls were smooth and pristine, well maintained. The city surrounding it was worn down, dull and rusty.
A city block past the ration building was a dangerous but impressive monument to the past. A large, four gunned anti-aircraft turret perched atop a heavily reinforced tower. The turret had been disabled during the Great War by a large bomb snugly entrenched in the operator's seat.
This was only known because a family of ponies lived in a house at the base of the tower. They passed down their knowledge of it through the generations.
Rusty hurried past this, however. The ponies beneath it say that the bomb is still active and would vaporize everything within three blocks if it went off. He felt it was exaggerated, thinking that the government wouldn't put the ration building within its blast range, but he took caution either way.
Turning a corner, the checkpoint finally came into view. The city was segmented into seven sectors, and each sector had a wall between it. They were creatively named Sector 1 through Sector 7, and each one had its function. Rusty's sector, Sector 5, was used mostly for housing, but also with tasks that overflow from the other sectors.
Taking a place in line, Rusty let his mind fade back to reality. Many Overseer guards patrolled the area, keeping everypony and everything in line. The glorious defenders stood tall on their two legs, much taller than ponies. They were giants by comparison, holding large guns that would easily tear through anything an offending pony could dish out. The emblem on their chests sparkled proudly in the artificial lighting, a red circle with a curved line struck through it horizontally.
The New Moon's mark was flawlessly painted onto every piece of equipment that was used by the government. Their shuttles, their armor, their guns, their land vehicles, and even the little door that now sat in front of the unicorn. It separated him from the guard that would examine and process his ID before allowing him to pass.
The door slid open with a scraping noise and the guard called him in. He stepped in and the door slid shut behind him. The guard followed routine and asked for Rusty's ID, to which the pony complied. He placed the faux-leather card holder onto the counter and the guard took it. A series of beeps and green lights told both the guard and the owner of the cards that they were authentic, up to date, and sufficient for passage.
The guard shut the card holder and began sliding it out of the little cage between the two. He stopped short, however, and examined the card holder closely. "Where did you see the symbol you've got on this?" The guard asked suspiciously before turning the case towards Rusty. There was an imprint on the card holder, and the pony recognized it almost immediately. It was the symbol that appeared on his computer screen when he plugged in the android. How did it get on his card holder?
The stallion immediately felt nervous but tried his best to hide it as he made up a lie. "I uh... Saw it somewhere and thought it looked cool, sir. I wasn't aware something was wrong with it." Rusty lowered his gaze as he spoke, not wanting to intimidate the guard by seeming nervous.
The giant let out and grunt and slid the card holder back to its owner. "I suggest you get rid of it. If you're caught carrying that emblem again within three days, you'll likely get a citation. Understood?" The guard's gruff voice echoed menacingly through the small room. Rusty nodded his head, to which the guard responded by opening the door to let him pass.
He walked calmly until he was out of sight of the guards. When he was, he let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He practically tore open his saddlebag and dug out the broken power core. His eyes widened as he looked upon the emblem, raised out of the metal. If he could get a citation for having that on his card holder, he can't imagine what would happen if they found this.
The illegal device was buried in his bag and he made sure his coin purse was between it and his card holder. He hurried along to his destination with little of note occurring along the way.
His friend's shop was nothing special. A sign sat in the window, advertising the goods the store sold. The door swung open with a metal screech that almost hurt Rusty's ears. Oddly enough, it was accompanied by the pleasant ring of a little bell. It seemed a bit redundant to the stallion entering the store.
A yellow stallion stood behind the counter, polishing an old glass orb with a cozy looking scene trapped inside it. He looked up and smiled at the pony before him. "Hey hey! Long time no see, Rusty. What brings you?" The yellow stallion's voice was deep and jovial as he greeted his old friend.
"And a hello to you, too, Iron. I found something and I was uh... I was hoping I could get another. The problem is, though, I think that might not happen, now." As Rusty explained his presence, he pulled the device from his bag. The storekeeper set his glass orb down and started examining the broken device.
"What's wrong with it? Why do you think you won't you find another, I mean?" The earth pony stallion retrieved a kit of tools and began inspecting the broken core even closer.
Rusty rubbed his fetlock nervously. "The uh... Manufacturers mark, or whatever it is, is uh... Apparently illegal." He admitted nervously. This only made the shopkeeper smile broadly.
"So then it truly is a rarity, huh? Anything the New Moon has banned is very hard to get a hold of, and very expensive." Iron Heart set the device down and went to the front of his shop. He turned the sign to, "Closed," and shut the blinds. "If it wasn't broken, I'd take it off your hooves in a jiffy. What is it, anyway?"
Rusty watches his friend, slightly confused. "It's some kind of power core. Wait a sec, though. You deal in the black market? Since when?"
Iron chuckled at his friend's question. "Since it was good money, my friend. Don't worry, though. I only deal in goods I'm sure won't harm anypony." He resumed his place behind his counter and began poking at the power core with his tools. "So, a power core you say? I don't think I've ever seen something like this. Where'd you get it?"
The unicorn shifted on his hooves. "Well, you know. I'm a Grinder. I was just breaking stuff down and found some... thing unusual." Rusty shook his head slightly, not sure why his thoughts keep making the android feel more like a pony than a machine. "I uh... It would be much more useful to me if I had a working one, though."
Rusty's friend simply shook his head. "Well, I can't help you there. I can tell you one thing, though. This has fusion residue on it. 'Dates almost six hundred years old." He stopped to rub his chin. "Try the library, they know old stuff, right?"
Rusty nodded. "I hope I can work something out soon. I have a promise to keep." He took the power core off the counter and set it in his bag. Pushing open the door, Rusty said farewell to his friend.
A light rain fell from an invisible storm above. Unfortunately for Rusty, he rarely carried an umbrella, as it rarely rained. Rather than worrying about the rain, he continued on. As he began his route towards the library, the unicorn felt that tonight was going to be a long night. He had much to do and only so much time to do it.
Author's Note
Thank you to all who made it this far. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.
Fortunately, nothing (except for my lazy rump) should be getting in the way of me writing for a while to come. I still hold to my assertion that constructive criticism is welcome. If you see anything wrong or feel like something could be better, please tell me.
Thanks for reading!