The Conversion Bureau: Time of the Season

Depending on how the bureau’s schedule fell, you might not get ponified exactly seven days from entry. On my seventh day, four days after Happy Monday left, I didn’t even hear the loudspeaker analysis. They didn’t have speakers in all the rooms, but they posted it on the bulletin board, and sometimes people would come and look just to make sure that the announcement was right. When it went up, I looked. For some reason, I expected to not see my name. But there it was.

My last name started with a B. I was first in line. As I scanned over the list, I saw the name at the bottom: Williams, Becca. The dark-haired girl was in the crowd gathered around the notice. It had to be her.

I wanted to get to it as soon as possible, so I gobbled dinner fast and went to bed. Last meal as a human. Last sleep as a human.

Into the doctor’s office. Two technicians, both men. Strip down naked. Ponification with clothes on doesn’t stop the process, it just tears the clothes.

The younger tech said, “OK, sir. Your part of the process is easy. Just drink the anesthetic, lay back, and start counting backwards from a hundred. We’ll take it from there.”

I took the little paper cup from his hand and stared at it. I felt like I was on a roller coaster that had stalled out right before a big drop.

“I don’t have to do this,” I said.

“Sir?”

“I don’t have to do this.”

“Sir, you’ve been through the class. You don’t have to get ponified right now, but you’re leaving the bureau today if you don’t.”

“I know all that. I don’t have to do this,” I repeated. I just kept looking at that pink liquid in the paper cup. “I could drop this right now and walk out of here. I could go back to my old life and never become a pony.”

The tech was about to say something when the older man cut him off. “Yes, you could,” he said to me.

I poured the cup into my mouth and swallowed, then I crushed it and threw it across the room into the garbage. It was the last thing my hands ever did. I leaned back.

“One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eigh—“

My, this pillow is comfortable.

*********************************************************************************************************

They say that you’re not supposed to feel anything during your ponification. They say that the brain doesn’t feel anything at all. They say a lot of things. I don’t know if it was a dream, but I’ll tell you what I felt. In the center of my brain, a plug was pulled. All the gray matter started shifting forward. It flattened out and I couldn’t think anymore. My head felt like a balloon being turned inside-out. Then it was all over and I had a hole in the middle of my head.

There was nothing. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. I could think, at least, and that meant that I still existed. All was darkness and void. Then there was a point of light. I don’t know whether the light moved toward me or I moved toward the light, but we drew closer. The light grew brighter and took up more of my field of vision. It started to hurt the eyes I didn’t have, like staring into the sun. There was still nothing but the light for another immeasurable time, and then I was beneath the light, behind it. I could see the source of the light.

Below the light was a horn, and below the horn was a head and a body. This must be Celestia, the Empress of the Ponies.

“Princess, in fact.”

She didn’t speak to me, but still she corrected my mistake. Princess Celestia. She sat on a throne of gold and her mane flowed behind her in all the colors that ever were. I didn’t know whether I was supposed to worship her or supplicate to her or just be close to her. I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to. She was looking right at me, and then she smiled.

I still couldn’t move, but I could be moved. By will, she moved me to her other side. Did I go around? Left or right? Over her? Under her? Through her? Blasphemies. Let’s say she directly translated me behind. And in the midst of the light was a point of dark.

The dark was a real thing, not simply the absence of light. It was every bit as strong as the light, and existed in perfect balance with it. I was moved toward the dark as I had been to the light, and I saw the second pony, the other princess.

From my memory I called up the name that they had told me in the Conversion Bureau, a world away. Luna, Princess of the Night.

I still could not move or speak. I still could only think.

And, without knowing why, I began to think of Becca Williams. And not in a good way. All the fantasies I’d had about her body, her breasts, having sex with her came to my mind. I didn’t know why, at this moment. And I couldn’t stop it. Go stand in the corner and don’t think of an elephant. You can’t.

I saw Luna’s eyes, and I understood. She was drawing these thoughts out of me. In the darkness my life, my soul, and my mind were stripped and laid bare for her to see. All my lust poured out to be perused and examined by her. She frowned, and I never felt such fear.

Then the light and the dark came together, and I cannot describe what it is to have both light and dark at the same time. After another endless moment, both faded, and I drifted back to unconsciousness.

*********************************************************************************************************

“Oi, come on. Wake up.” I felt a gentle slap on my face. It was one of the techs.

“W-what happened? What went wrong?”

“Nothing. Perfectly routine ponification. You were just a bit more sensitive to the anesthetic than most.”

“Yeah, I’m still a little groggy,” I said. “Can you help me stand up?”

There was a pause. “You are standing up.”

I looked around and found a mirror. Between the two humans still in the room was a pony the color of the night sky with white freckles on his nose. My head finally cleared and I realized that was me. Then my thoughts came clearer and I realized that what he said was right. I was standing, though I didn’t feel like it.

It made sense. The same weight, more or less, that I’d carried all my life on two spindly little limbs with giant fleshy pads at the end was now resting comfortably, evenly distributed on four strong, wide legs. And at the end were sturdy hooves. I could stand like that for hours, the same way a human could sit for hours, only making an occasional shift for comfort. I felt that I could lift my forelegs, the same way that you can stand on one foot. But I saw no reason to.

I looked back in the mirror and saw my forehead. “I’m a unicorn pony?” I asked.

“You are,” said the older tech, “but don’t try any magic yet. You’ll need some training.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t even know how.”

Let me tell you what having a horn is like. Much like the male organ, it goes deeper into the body than just what you see. It was solid and hard, but sensitive, and that’s completely inhuman. All of your hard parts, like your fingernails, are dead. I guess the closest thing you could compare it to would be a tooth. But instead of just having a nerve for pain, imagine if your teeth could touch things like your hand. And imagine if it was wired right into your brain.

The hole in my head that I felt before had filled in. I couldn’t quite tell how, but my brain was working differently than it had as a human. There was something else there.

The younger technician said, “Can you try to walk? You should be able to do that right away.”

I looked down at my legs and picked one of them up. I didn’t think that balance would be a problem with the wide base I now had, but I still expected to struggle. But I felt that filled-in hole again as I took a step. Walking was more than natural. It was fun. It was like sliding on linoleum in your socks.

“Whoa!” the older tech said. “Don’t run into the wall.”

“Sorry,” I said. “But I think I’ve got the hang of it. By the way, I never got your names.”

The two looked at each other. “I’m Jason, and this is David. Have you picked out a name yet?”

“No, I didn’t think of it. Truth be told, I’m still not thinking perfectly clear. I could go right back to bed now.”

“You can if you like,” said Jason. “and you should be as awake as you can be while you’re practicing being a pony. You may just be particularly sensitive to the anesthetic, but trust me, it’s better than being aware.”

“Good night,” said David. “Sleep tight.”

“I’m sorry?” I said. “What did you call me?”

“I didn’t, I just said good night.”

“No, you named me. Sleep Tight, at your service. Thank you, gentlemen.”

I walked out of the room where there was another bureau employee there to help me walk to my room. I told her that I intended to nap right away.

As I walked down the hall, a few people were lingering about. I saw a young boy who must have just arrived at the bureau, because I didn’t remember him. He had a very scared look on his face.

I just wanted to keep going to my room, but something made me stop and ask him what was wrong.

“Did it hurt?” he asked, pointing back to the ponification room.

“Not at all. Just like going to sleep.”

He looked reassured, and I continued on to my room. But it kept bugging me. There were plenty of people who could have answered his question. Why did I feel that I had to?

I would have to sleep on it.

*********************************************************************************************************

Have you ever tried that? Ask yourself a question and go to sleep? It’s surprising how often it works. In this case, I came to with a word in my head that I’d been trying to find.

Instinct. That was what it was. Somewhere in human evolution, the instinct was supplanted by rationality, but in ponies the rationality had grown separate. Now that I could identify it, I could understand it.

No, I had not lost any part of me that was human. But I had gained something. I had gained a conscience that would guide my steps. Oh, I could overrule it if I wanted, but it would have its input. I would always know what the right thing to do was, even if I chose not to do it.

Well, like it or not, there’s no going back now. I looked at the clock and saw that I had slept about two hours. The anesthetic had finally worked its way out of my system and I felt alert. I wandered back out to see the final ponifications and then get some breakfast.

Now that it wasn’t daybreak, people were standing around watching the newfoals coming out and congratulating them. The next one to go in was Becca. I was amazed when I saw her, because all of my lust had gone. I knew from my memory that she was attractive for a human, but now. . . go out and look at a horse. Turned on? Didn’t think so.

I got in line with the others and watched her go in. All I felt now was the desire for her, as a fellow sapient creature, to be well. I knew that she’d be out in a half hour or forty five minutes, so I went off to get breakfast.

In the cafeteria, there wasn’t much of a line or a crowd, which made sense as it was around ten o’clock. Now I had to start maneuvering things as a pony. The trays were tall enough that I managed to slip one between my teeth. They were also strong, which was fortunate because I felt like I could bite right through a plastic tray. I got it on the metal shelf and started sliding it up.

“Could I please have some of the salad?” I asked.

The server was a pony as well, but she used the tongs with her teeth like an expert. After she spit them out, she said, “I don’t remember seeing you around. Wait, is this your first meal as a pony?”

Great, this. I’d heard that they make a big ceremony out of the first time a converted pony eats, and I wanted to avoid it if I could. I never got the whole thing about food. You eat three times a day, and you get it over with. Those people who talk about food and watch TV shows about it and spend lots of money on fancy stuff just confuse me. But I didn’t want to lie to the mare, so I said yes.

“Eff-map!” she called. Sweet Celestia, they even had a cutesy acronym for it. Cooks and servers gathered round to watch and suggest things to eat.

“You’ve got to have a pear! It’s the best!”

“I made oatmeal brownies! Please try one, you’ll love it!”

“Hay! You’ve got to have hay for your first meal as a pony.”

I tried to block the wave of attention. “Hang on, hang on. I don’t want to have everything at once. Really I just want to do this and watch the ponifications.”

They looked at each other like they knew something I didn’t. I took the pear and the salad and the brownie and balanced the tray again. I now had to really concentrate to not spill everything, but it felt light in my mouth. I got it to a table and put it down. Everyone was still watching. All right, let’s gobble this down and get back. I bit the pear.

I stumbled to my knees. I couldn’t see or hear. It was like being back in my dream of the princesses, but at least I had some sense. Two, in fact. Smell and taste. The sweetness and the creaminess and the texture and the firmness and ohcelestiaohluna all I wanted to do was keep chewing. At last I came back to the real world and saw the faces watching me. They had smiles on their lips and twinkles in their eyes.

“All right,” I said, though it still felt like a waste to use my mouth for talking instead of eating. “You guys win. That was awesome.” They all laughed and I stood back up. I was able to get the next bite down without quite collapsing, but I could have eaten forever. My second conversion of the day had occurred. I was a foodie.

I was halfway through heaven—oops, I mean the oat brownie—when I heard the clapping of hands and the stomping of hooves from outside. Oh, no. I missed her coming out. I didn’t think anything could pull me away from that meal, but I dropped that brownie out of my mouth and made my first gallop. Drifting into the hallway like one of those street racers, I joined the line and stamped my hooves with the rest of them. She was already out and preening for us.

She was the color of winter cream. She was large for a mare, almost the same size as I was. My perspective on that might have been skewed, though, by the framing of the two magnificent wings that she had spread behind her head.

The smile on her face as she trotted down became mirrored on mine. She had lots of friends and she had something to say to all of them. Then she made it down to me. Her smile faltered, but she didn’t frown.

She moved her head right in close to mine so nopony else could hear. “Listen. I’m sorry for trying to get you in trouble. When I was human, I was always a little sensitive about sexuality. Probably a lot of it was from the way they try to make us grow up, but most of it was my fault.”

“I’m sorry too. Yeah, I knew from the signals you put out that you weren’t interested, but I tried anyway. Not for your sake, but for mine. I could write you off as frigid because you didn’t want me, but it was just my ego. At least now that we’re ponies, we can finally talk openly and honestly.”

“Yes. Everything’s better now. Friends?”

“Friends,” I said. And we were back to smiles.

“Now, everypony’s been telling me about this first meal thing, like it’s a big deal. Let’s get it over with.”

I smirked and led her to the cafeteria.