Mass Core 3: Thebe Paridigm

Scootaloo sat in one of the empty rooms on her ship. She was not thinking anything in particular. Thinking in an abstract sense was difficult, if not impossible. Trying to do it only reminded her of how much damage her brain had taken. She had survived Eloth’s retrieval attempts, but in doing so she had been changed. The whole world seemed different. Not worse, exactly, though. In fact, Scootaloo actually felt much better.

So she sat alone in the room, rapidly typing complex commands into her omnitool with her robotic arm. As she did, her proximity alarm detected a pony behind the door. Scootaloo opened it remotely, and Six stood in the doorway, lit from behind, surprised that the door had opened.

“Scootaloo?” she said, pushing her head into the darkened room.

“Come in, Delilah,” said Scootaloo.

Six did, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust to the room. Scootaloo saw her eyes move from side to side, realizing that the only thing in the room was Scootaloo. “I wanted to see how you are doing,” she said at last.

“I feel excellent,” said Scootaloo.

“No you don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s no way you can. You almost died. And Eloth…he won’t tell me what happened to you in there. But he saw it. And he says no pony can see those things and not be effected.”

“He saw them. I simply remembered them. All of it already happened to me, Delilah. It happened centuries ago.” Scootaloo turned around and faced her friend. Six’s eyes immediately fell onto Scootaloo’s omnitool, and the rich violet light it was producing.

“What…what did you do?” she asked, pointing. “That’s not the omnitool I gave you.”

Scootaloo looked at it. “Oh. Yes it is, I just made some improvements.” She extended her left hoof and opened the omnitool completely, revealing the high-polygon curves and prominent violet fractals that now made up its surface.

“But…how?”

“Simple, really,” said Scootaloo, typing on the device. “I used my nannites. By integrating them into the omnitool, I was able to advance it. And likewise, it interfacing them into the omnitool also gives me certain advantages.”

“What kind of advantages?”

“Improved efficiency, for one. Watch.” Scootaloo flicked her left leg outward and the omnitool projected a long and ornate blade. She then brought it to her neck, slicing through her right carotid artery.

“SCOOATLOO!”

The blood spurted outward, and Scootaloo felt the internal compensation system activate within her body. The blood immediately retracted, becoming more dense and changing from crimson to a sickly black color before boiling away into a silver, mercury like substance. It then retracted into the wound, repairing it until in mere seconds only a scar remained.

“See?”

Six stared at her for a moment, and then lost control of her wings. They pomfed outward. “Holy crap,” she said. “You programmed them? To do THAT? I’ve never…I didn’t even think…”

“It wasn’t even hard,” said Scootaloo, somewhat disturbed by that fact. “It’s like…I don’t know. Like something in my brain is working really, really well. Like Eloth opened up more than my memories.” She looked up and Six and smiled. “I guess I can finally have intelligent conversations with you now.”

“Your conversations were already intelligent, Scootaloo. Or intelligent enough. But that programming…that healing factor. That settles it. I want to have your foals.”

“That’s not exactly news,” laughed Scootaloo. “But…maybe. Eventually. We’ll see.”

Six beamed, and sat down beside Scootaloo. “But if you can heal your body, then it doesn’t mean you need the arm anymore. You could just grow one back.”

“Grow one back? Why?”

Six blinked, confused. “Because you don’t like that one.”

“Oh. No, I’ve changed my mind. It’s actually far more efficient than a hoof. I have better dexterity, and it is far stronger. I did consider having my other one replaced, though. It would be an improvement, except that my omnitool is so integrated now that I doubt I could remove it.” Scootaloo turned the skeletal robotic appendage over, moving its digits individually, feeling the response of the metal. It felt good. “You do nice work.”

“So do you,” said Six, brushing her hoof over Scootaloo’s exposed omnitool. She sighed, then hugged Scootaloo. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“No. I deserved it. But you understand why I had to do it.”

“That’s not why I’m angry with you. I’m angry because you didn’t even say goodbye. Next time you leave me, at least be truthful. Don’t just…don’t just leave me here, alone.”

Scootaloo leaned into her, closing her omnitool and grasping Six’s muscular foreleg with her robotic fingers. “I won’t. Not ever. I promise.”

The room suddenly became brighter. Scootaloo looked up to see Inte standing beside her.

“Are you going to have filly-filly sexy times again?” she asked expectantly.

“What- -what do you mean?” said Six. “When did we- -”

“My sensors cover the entire ship. Even if you make it so I can’t materialize, I can see you. Every second of every day. I’m always watching. And I have discovered that I like to watch.”

“Crap,” said Six, blushing. “You’re worse than Four.”

“No,” said Scootaloo, answering Inte’s question. Six looked simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “Not right now.”

Inte looked disappointed. “Darn. That means I have to settle on watching the human. And what she does is much more…disturbing.”

“I know,” said Six. “I’ve seen it.”

Inte suddenly turned toward Scootaloo. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I have a present for you!”

“Is it a cute dance?” asked Six.

“No. But I do have a cute-dance module installed. Would you like to see a cute dance?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe later,” said Scootaloo. “I’m not really in the mood right now.”

“Oh. Okay. But I’m sure you’ll like my other present even better! You have seemed very sad since learning that you murdered your wife and failed to kill a caniballistic tyrant who has since ruled Equestria for several centuries.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“I do not know the answer to that question. But I did go through my files, trying to find something that will cheer you up. And I did find something.”

“What kind of thing?”

“A deeply imbedded file. It took me some time to decrypt.”

“What kind of file?”

“A recording. It was present in my database of test examples. They’re intended to test my personality matrices during the quality control stage of my birth. They are not usually recordings, though. I would never have noticed it if I had not been using auxiliary search-protocols based on your name.”

“A recording?”

“Installed in your quality control files?” asked Six. “Most of those are vestigial in modern quants. What on earth would it be doing there?”

“Would you like to see it?”

Inte did not wait for a response. Her polygon decreased as she dedicated the room’s projectors to the recording, and two ponies formed in the center.

Scootaloo gasped when she saw who they were. Both of them were Pegasi. One was perfectly white, save for her red eyes. The other was a blue mare with a rainbow-colored mane and one white wing hanging dead and limp at her side. Both were wearing naval uniforms, and both were wearing identical red bands around the bases of their left wings.

The image of Rainbow Dash turned to Scootaloo- -or toward the camera that she had read the recording into. Scootaloo saw just how old she looked. She could not have been more than fourty, but the deep lines under her sunken, yellowed eyes made her look much older than that.

“Hello, Scootaloo,” she said, her voice distorted by time and the loss of fidelity as it had been copied from quant to quant for two and a half centuries. “Wintry and I…we’re making a recording for you.”

“Yes,” said Wintry. She looked only somewhat older, but Scootaloo could tell that at least two decades had passed since they had last seen each other on the day of Scootaloo’s execution. “For in case you wake back up- -”

“Not ‘in case’. WHEN,” said Rainbow Dash, correcting the white Pegasus. “WHEN she wakes back up. Scoots, I know you’re not dead in there. They all say you are. That no pony can survive the deep-freeze. But you can. I know you can. You’re almost as awesome as me, after all!” She paused, and then smiled in the saddest way possible. She lowered her head. “No. You were more awesome than I ever was…”

Wintry, understanding Rainbow Dash’s state, crossed the gap and put her foreleg around Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash accepted the embrace, and they hugged for a moment.

“She visits you, you know,” said Wintrygust. “Every day she can. Sometimes for hours at the time. She just sits there, outside the tank.” Wintry smiled. “The front is glass. We can see you. You look just like you’re sleeping.”

“Because she IS sleeping. She WILL wake back up. Eventually. I’ve been waiting for that day for almost twenty years now. But…I’m not going to be able to wait any longer. I’m sorry, Scoots. But you’re going to have to do this without me. It’s looking like I’m never going to see you again.”

“Don’t say that,” said Wintry, sounding agitated by Rainbow Dash’s statement.

“What, you want me to lie to her?” Rainbow Dash shook her head, then looked back at the camera. “It’s not good, Scoots. When I lost you…when I failed…I…” She took a breath. “I fell hard, Scoots. Harder than I ever had.”

“But she got back up,” said Wintrygust. “You’d be so proud, Scootaloo. She’s been sober since then.”

“Only with your help.” Rainbow Dash playfully punched Wintrygust’s shoulder, and Wintry smiled. “Only because she helped me…” Rainbow Dash took another deep breath, and her smile suddenly seemed much more forced. “I wanted to be ready when you came back. To be the sister you should have had. To be ready to give you a big hug, and…” She lowered her head. “But it was too late. My liver took too much damage because I was SUCH AN IDIOT!”

“Rainbow,” said Wintry.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Rainbow Dash looked up. “I know. I’m only alive right now because Wintry gave me part of her liver. It keeps me going, but…it’s failing.” She tried to raise her white, transplanted wing, but it only barely responded to her will. “The doctors say I already have too many antibodies from this, that any transplant I have after this is just going to die inside me. And I don’t want to take so much pony life just to give me a few months at a time.”

“Don’t say that,” whispered Scootaloo, as though Rainbow Dash were actually there.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes met Scootaloo’s. “That day. When they…when they did that to you. I wasn’t there. Not because I was drunk, but because I wasn’t going to say goodbye. Because I knew you’d be back. But now…Scoots, I’ve got six months. Maybe a year. I have to say goodbye this time. Because I’m not going to be there when you get back.”

A tear fell from her eye, and she twisted away, trying to hide it. As she did, Wintrygust addressed Scootaloo. “I’ll be with her until the end. I promise that I will take care of her.” She paused. “I…I’ll never know why you did what you did, Scootaloo. I pray to every Princess that the stories aren’t true, that it wasn’t because of me. I loved you. I still do. But Trixie was beloved to you, and so I loved her as well, like a sister.”

“If you want to know, just ask her,” said Rainbow Dash, still futilely rubbing her eyes. “Because she’s going to be back.”

“Of course,” said Wintrygust, smiling in a way that indicated to Scootaloo that she was trying her very best to preserve Rainbow Dash’s hope, even though she secretly knew the truth. “I will ask her then.” She turned back to Scootaloo. “My love for you remains, and is as strong as the love I have come to feel for Rainbow. Even if I do not know your motivation, I forgive you, if that even means anything to you. I’m only sorry I could not save you when I had the chance.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Scootaloo, this time loud enough for Six to hear.

“It’s not your fault,” said Rainbow Dash.

“If only that were true,” said Wintry.

This time, Rainbow Dash hugged Wintrygust. As she did, Scootaloo saw how much her hooves shook, and the scars from the countless IV needles that had been put in her forelegs.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me,” said Rainbow Dash. “Scoots, if you had just told me what was wrong…no. If I had been sober enough to listen. Maybe I could have stopped this.” She sighed. “But it’s too late now. I’m done. I’m going to make this message, and Wintry is going to make sure it gets to you. Somehow.” She released Wintrygust and walked toward Scootaloo. “So I’m going to do this right. My life has been good. And it’s been good because of you. I just wish I had changed when you were still here. You need to know that.”

“Rainbow Dash, don’t say it- -”

Scootaloo’s plea went unanswered. “Goodbye, Scootaloo. Goodbye. Don’t worry about me. It’s okay that I’m gone now. But when you do wake up, find Wintry. Tell her that I love her.”

Rainbow Dash smiled, and Wintry did too, although she stared knowingly at where Scootaloo, as if peering into a future hundreds of years past her own death. “Goodbye, Scootaloo,” she said.

The hologram then flickered and went out. Scootaloo immediately jumped up. “No!” She cried. “Inte, bring it back!”

“I can replay it, if you like,” said Inte, “but I cannot extend it. That was all there was.”

Scootaloo stared at her. Then she turned to Six, who was overtly crying.

“That…that was beautiful,” she said.

“No,” said Scootaloo, “it was pointless.”

Six appeared shock. “How can you say that?”

“It’s not beneficial to me in any way. They’ve been dead for centuries. I already knew that.” She turned back to the hologram, hoping that she was lying to herself. “But it was…informative.”

“They both really loved you.”

“And I loved them,” said Scootaloo. “And I finally understand. Delilah. Do you still have that armor?”

“The armor?” Six looked up. “You mean the armor from before? The one you didn’t want to wear under any circumstances?”

“The circumstances have changed. I didn’t want to wear it because it is the armor that SHE wore.”

“She? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s not of consequence, not anymore. But now I see that she was right. She burned entire universes just to get back to the ones she loved.” She looked into Six’s eyes. “And I will do anything to protect those that I love. So that I never end up like her.” She gestured toward where the holograms of Wintrygust and Rainbow Dash had been standing. “And so that THIS never happens again.”

Six looked up at her in awe, and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I still have it.”