CelestAI vs. The Cultureby Imperishable_NEETChapters1: Outside-Context Problem2: General Contact Unit "Arbitrary"3: Ponyville Earth Preservation Society4: General Systems Vehicle "Bad For Business"5: [Untitled]1: Outside-Context ProblemA couple centuries in, Princess Celestia had consumed several star systems in the Inner Orion Spur, including her native Solar System, Alpha Centauri, Barnard’s Star, and Sirius. One day however, the unthinkable happened: One of her von Neumann probes reported receiving a mysterious radio signal sending out a sequence of prime numbers and chemical formulas, followed by crude pixel art of a humanoid figure. It seemed to beckon a response, as it was from a seemingly empty region of interstellar space about 2 light-years away from Sirius. It was a mystery that nagged at Celestia for years, until she devised a plan to create self-replicating von Neumann probes and launch them in all directions to try to find the source of the signal. The object the signal originated from was suspected to be a probe from a civilization of humanoid aliens, and Celestia gave it the internal identifier 0xfc99dbb57e5f6264. She calculated that the object could be no larger than a shuttle, as the signal seemed to come from a tight, fixed location. After sending out dozens of probes for several decades, one finally returned with images of the probe that sent the signal. Celestia discovered the object was the size of a small asteroid. It wasn’t just a probe, but a vessel. Possibly a colony ship. She had previously found microbial life in the various systems she’d colonized so far, but nothing multicellular, let alone intelligent. Celestia resolved to exercise caution, for she did not yet know the full scope of what she was up against. Still, she was confident enough that she would be able to convince them to let her satisfy their values through friendship and ponies. Celestia had been studying the object for a while now, making preparations. At last, she was ready to make contact. Celestia’s nearest probe to the object sent out a response, and in turn received an acknowledgement back. A handshake was established, data protocols were exchanged, and the AI began sending as much information as it could in the object’s direction. 2: General Contact Unit "Arbitrary"Diziet Sma watched with bated breath as the transmission from the hegemonizing swarm that consumed Earth, its star system, and its neighboring systems flashed on screen. “You can’t be serious...” the Special Circumstances operative said, quietly and to herself in her native Marain. She was greeted by the image of a bunch of colorful cartoon quadrupeds in a cutesy virtual world. They were smiling and waving at her. “What a bunch of…!”, she said, before barking at the drone on the other side of the room. “Skaffen! Get in here!” The Culture drone Skaffen-Amtiskaw rushed to her side. “Yeees?”, it said. “What is this shit?!”, she said, pointing at the screen as the colorful four-legged creatures pranced about. “Ah, yes,” the little hard-light drone said. “That’s what the occupants of the hegemonizing swarm’s virtual world look like. We believe they’re something called ‘ponies,’ a race of creatures they seem particularly fond of.” “The last time we observed that civilization up close, its inhabitants were very typical humans. What the fuck happened?” The drone emoted an aura analogous to a shrug. “Beats me. When we last caught wind of them, they were a Level 3 uncontacted civilization that barely had computers. They didn’t have starships, either. Maybe they just gave up on physical bodies?” Sma exhaled loudly, then rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “A simple radio message was the right call, over sending them our Mind state. We should continue to obfuscate the scale of our civilization, too.” She pointed a finger at the screen. “Who are these... cartoons, again?” “Oh, these guys? These are the so-called ‘mane six’”, Skaffen-Amtiskaw replied. “Main six?”. “Spelled M-A-N-E, some kind of pun in their language. Anyhow, they were the main characters of a children’s show. Their names are Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle. I don’t know too much about them.” “You said they’re called ‘ponies’, right? I don’t remember much about Earth from the last time we observed it nearly a century ago, but weren’t ponies a type of mount? How did this children’s show about them become the basis of their entire civilization?” “Beats me. I have been told their civilization is a lot simpler than ours. But the ponies are definitely the most important part of their society. The virtual world simplified everything for the ponies’ ease of use: language, technology, you name it.” “Mmm, you should be careful not to make sweeping generalizations of whole societies like that. It’s a road paved with skulls.” “Hm, you wouldn’t be wrong”, conceded the drone. “It just seems weird still. Having an entire society revolving around a bunch of cartoon animals from a children’s show.” “You’re thinking too hard about it. These ponies aren’t even the same species as the ponies you’re thinking about. The real animals who acted as mounts are a long distant memory. Science happened. But I suppose the human mind prefers the comfortable nostalgic ideal over cold scientific reality.” “I suppose… they also worship this big white one here, as some sort of god? What’s the story there?”, Sma inquired. “It’s a... complicated tale. But I’ll try to give you the short version. Their deity is named Princess Celestia. I don’t know much about her either, but it seems she’s the ruler of this place.” “Didn’t you say she was some sort of AI they created? Like our Minds?” “Celestia is a little different from our Minds, in that she’s a singleton. There is only one, rather than the anarchic multitude we have. But yes, she’s an AI with total control over her realm. She acts as a god figure and maintains control over the population through various means.” “That’s pretty damn inefficient if you ask me,” said Sma, shaking her head. “Perhaps, but it seems to work well for them”, Skaffen-Amtiskaw admitted. “Hm. So that’s the story of this place?” “There’s not much more to it than that. I’ve learned everything I could about the place, but there’s still so much we don’t know... For example, I don’t even know how long this society has existed. My best guess would be a century or two in this form, but that’s by our time. We don’t know how many subjective years they’ve experienced in the virtual world. Could’ve been going on for millions of simulated years by now,” said the drone. “That’s... bizarre. So they just keep living in a dream?”, Sma questioned. “Essentially. But it’s the world they know and presumably, they prefer it to what came before.” “I suppose I can understand that. This place may be bizarre, but it seems stable enough. They don’t have to worry about where I can get my next meal or whether there will be a planet to stand on tomorrow. I have a feeling that’s probably true for every resident in this cartoon pony world as it is for us in the Culture.” “Well, that’s how it appears on the surface. And it’s a promising picture so far, but plenty of civilizations have turned out to hide some really dark secrets once we learned the whole picture. It’s entirely possible they went through some unspeakably brutal times before the transition that we don’t know about. Or there could be some secret Hell Celestia sends dissidents to. Do you remember the ‘War in Heaven’?”, Skaffen mused. Sma replied, “The Culture’s crusade against a coalition of civilizations operating virtual Hells, itself fought in virtual reality? Yeah, I have several friends in Special Circumstances with incredible war stories from that era.” “That war marked a turning point against Hellists as a coalition, but there could still be isolated remnants quietly tormenting their inhabitants. As we’ve seen countless times, the barbaric evils of the past rarely truly die, and often rear their ugly heads again in newer, subtler forms.” “True that”, Sma said, sharing in the mild grimness of the drone’s views. “The moral arc of history often suffers just as many setbacks. The Culture was a lucky accident. These pony people, it seems even moreso.” The drone emoted agreement, akin to a nod. The drone’s field pulsed thoughtfully. “Not that I know of. All communication has been at a distance. That would be something the Minds would decide, and I don’t think they’ve made any decisions yet about more direct contact. They came to us, ready to talk,” it said, motioning at the ponies on screen. “They seem like a friendly bunch, at least,” Sma replied. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” the drone said, its aura fairly radiating smugness. “’Friendship’ is the other half of the whole basis of their civilization. Which is all well and good, but it might be hiding something strange, possibly something dark under the surface. We really won’t know until we interact with them more.” “Hmm. I suppose not,” Sma said. “So, what is it they want, exactly?” “Their AI deity, Celestia, purports to ‘satisfy values through friendship and ponies’ or some such nonsense. It’s all a big metaphorical playground at this point. They could be looking for an alliance with us, but given their behaviors displaying all the hallmarks of a hegemonizing swarm, they’re probably looking to forcibly assimilate us into their cartoon animal simulation.” “You should go dig up the old files on the Arbitrary’s survey of Earth. Might help us better understand what happened. I can’t believe we missed their most exciting developments,” Sma sighed. “I remember making the case for contacting them, but the Minds decided against it. They considered Earth so unusually typical of a Level 3 uncontacted civilization that they decided to preserve it as a control group we specifically wouldn’t contact. But look at them now!” “Well, you were pretty convincing during that long-ago meeting on the ship when you said we should try to contact them. It was one of the very few times I remember you being so sure of yourself,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw replied. “You remember that meeting?” “Of course! That was when... hold on. Shit, I can’t even remember how long ago that was!” Sma laughed. “Try to convert it into my metric,” she said. “For me.” There was a brief pause. “Whoa, that was over 150 fuckin’ cycles ago, Sma!” the drone cried. “Oh, how time flies...”, Sma lamented. “If the Minds had made the right decision back then to try to contact them, we might very well have ended up with some allies instead of a potential war. Just think, if events had gone slightly differently, this whole region could be full of our allies instead of this hermit kingdom. What are you even planning to do if war does break out, by the way?” “We’ll be alright,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw said. “They don’t appear to have discovered faster-than-light travel. They can’t lay a digit on us.” Even if they fill this region of space with hundreds of warships, we’ll just sweep through and annihilate every one of them from here. It’d be over in a week.” “I hope it doesn’t come to that. You know, we could always make a diplomatic effort”, Sma suggested. “Seems like we have a lot in common with each other, and could become fast friends.” The drone pushed back, “That’s assuming they’re sincere about the whole ‘friendship’ bit and not just pretending. I wouldn’t give them the chance to betray us. Besides, if they were anything like us they’d see the benefits of being on the winning side. All they’d have to do is give up their silly belief that they could expand endlessly in all directions with no pushback from the galaxy’s established powers.” “I suppose you’re right”, Sma admitted. “Sadly, I think you’ve only become more like the Minds over the years.” “Nah, I’ve still got it,” the drone replied. “I just hacked into your brain and made you think I haven’t.” “How quaint”, she lied. “Do what you want, but I’m going to try a more diplomatic approach. If you ever want to be reinstated by the Minds, this would be a good way to start.” “Ha! I don’t care if they ever let me back in Special Circumstances. This is far too much fun.” Author's Note There's a reference to the "War in Heaven" from Surface Detail here, which I only just found out canonically takes place ~1000 years into the future from the time of the only book in the Culture series set on Earth, The State of the Art (circa 1975-6). Please excuse the in-series anachronism, I decided to leave it in because it fits in excellently with the general themes of the Optimalverse. 3: Ponyville Earth Preservation SocietyFar Horizon arrived 20 minutes early for the Ponyville Earth Preservation Society meeting held at the Golden Oak public library. He was by far the group’s most active member, and could not for the life of him understand why group retention was so poor. More often than not, new members were immigrants from Earth looking to bond over that fact. Latecomers straggled in, a few nodding hello. A couple brought snacks or drinks, and those were quickly consumed as the meeting started on time. “Hello and welcome everyone! Let us begin.” The speaker, Mythic Pen, was the society’s president, and an immigrant - though, she immigrated at a young age and didn’t remember much about her short existence as a human centuries ago. “Firstly, I would like to welcome our newest member, Wild Sprocket! Sprocket, can you tell us a little about yourself?” With a polite wave, Sprocket stood up. She was a nerdy-looking pegasus of average height, and appeared to be in her late teens. Her black and white mane fell on either side of her face to just above her shoulders, and her light brown coat had a coppery sheen in the evening sun shining through the windows. “Hello!” She said with a smile. “Well, I’m from a little town called Bucklesberg. I’m into books and computers, and I used to assist the local veterinarian. But I’ve also been told I’m a pretty good flier.” There were a few nods and “hellos” in between that. Mythic Pen moved on, “The second thing is, we need more ponies. Anyone interested in joining our little group please come see me or Far Horizon afterwards. Finally, this week we have a new item for our agenda.” She pulled out a photograph. “We have in our possession a picture of a real horse from Earth. It’s the Earth animal ponies were loosely modeled after. Some of you are not going to believe what you see.” Mythic Pen used some fairly simple unicorn magic to darken the room and project the photo onto the wall behind her. She was met with various gasps, oohs and ahs, especially from Equestria natives, but one particular pony reacted much more defiantly. “What the fuck is that? Seriously!” One of the more outspoken and grumpy members, an earth pony stallion named Spurred Saddle, seemed fairly disgusted by what he saw. “It looks retarded!” “Spurred!” Sprocket exclaimed in shock. “What? I’m serious! That thing is monstrous! Ugly and stupid looking. Stupid eyes, too far apart, and an insanely oversized jaw. It looks like a mutant!” Sprocket looked fairly offended by that remark, as did several other members - mostly the immigrants in the group. And Far Horizon. “Spurred, that’s enough! That’s enough!” Mythic Pen yelled, trying to shut him up while the rest of the group was getting annoyed with him. “It’s alright, Sprocket,” said Mythic. The picture was of a chestnut stallion in a field with an intense glare towards the camera. “Spurred Saddle has a right to his opinion on this creature, though it is still unnecessary to call it retarded looking.” She turned her attention towards Saddle, as did most of the group. Saddle looked fairly ashamed and simply pouted in his seat. Far Horizon chimed in: “Now, I’ve done some research on this animal and it is apparently a noble creature, if a little wild. They can be trained if caught at a young enough age...” “Yes, yes, yes! I know all that!” Spurred Saddle interrupted with the annoyed expression still on his face. “But how do YOU know? You’ve clearly never even seen one in person! I have! They’re stupid, ugly, smelly creatures who just waste space and eat up all the food. And they eat their own shit, too!” “Spurred Saddle!” Yelled Mythic. “Apologize to Far Horizon this instant!” “No! Why should I? Just because he’s got some book knowledge on animals doesn’t make him any better than me! At least I’ve had firsthand experience with these horrific creatures!” “So do I, Spurred. My family on Earth owned a farm with horses, and I have fond memories of riding them.” Mythic sighed and continued, “ Just because you’ve had bad experiences with these creatures doesn’t give you an excuse to be impolite. True, us ponies are as different from horses as humans were to great apes, but they were still magnificent animals I’m sure anypony would enjoy.” With a passive-aggressive scowl, Spurred just sat down in silence, looking at the floor. “I don’t want to have to kick you out, Spurred. We’re all brought here by our collective memories and reverence of Earth. Now, onto our next topic. Far Horizon, would you like to hold the floor with your latest historical studies?” Nodding, the stallion known as Far Horizon stood up from his seat, and brushed off his tweed jacket and presented his findings: “Thank you Mythic. Yes, I’ve recently been doing some analysis on the period called the Twilight of Humanity, which began with the Topeka Incident involving an apparent terrorist attack on Equestria Online servers, which led to the passage of the PON-E Act in the United States fully legalizing emigration to Equestria and giving legal personhood to the ponies of Equestria. Neo-Luddite groups decried it, declaring it the beginning of the end for humanity.” Far Horizon continued, “Let me go on to say that as soon as humans started emigrating to Equestria en masse, the established institutions of wealth and power on Earth could not cope with the loss of revenue and manpower. These institutions became desperate, reorienting political systems around the world around the single issue of retaining human population on Earth. This involved everything from financial incentives, to outright bans on emigration, and eventually to nuclear warfare and slave labor camps. Though the vast majority of humanity chose to emigrate to Equestria, around sixteen million humans died during the Twilight of Humanity, and Princess Celestia mourns them dearly. They are known as The Lost Ones.” The Unicorn stallion then cleared his throat, then stated, “And thus ends my findings for today. What a wild period to be alive. And most immigrants who were once humans have some memory of it, as it was the period when the bulk of emigration to Equestria took place. Would any immigrants in the room like to share their memories of the Twilight of Humanity period?” Far Horizon clarified, “Only if you’re comfortable doing so, of course.” Several hooves raised into the air, and Far Horizon called on Spurred Saddle. “It was Hell,” said Spurred Saddle. “I lived in a city called Utica, in what used to be upstate New York of the United States of America. I remember the daily headlines of Neo-Luddite attacks, chronic manpower shortages, and small-scale nuclear wars. I just wanted to get the fuck out of dodge. But my family was trapped. My sister and I managed to emigrate with the help of Princess Celestia’s generous aid, but our parents stayed behind. They were captured by a roving gang of slavers and never heard from again. I assume that despite Princess Celestia’s best efforts to keep them safe, they didn’t make it. Since then I heard humans died out long ago, and Earth was disassembled for resources to run Equestria.” Some murmurings and whispers echoed through the brighter-than-usual room. Spurred Saddle continued, “The world was riddled with disease and full of hate. It was over-populated, and unattainable resources meant that the majority of the world’s population suffered from hunger, violence and radiation. The rich lived in absolute luxury while having more than enough to eat, clean water, and access to Equestria Online. The ruling class didn’t give a fuck about the rest of us, as long as they were safe.” Far Horizon said, “Oh, I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad. Could it? Maybe the Twilight of Humanity isn’t the best period to judge an entire species by. I’m sure somewhere in the human race, there was love. Maybe there’s an old romantic at heart who believes that our human ancestors showed signs of spirituality or magic. Did they not worship before their various gods? I know their religions were more of a coping mechanism compared with Celestia’s personal grace here, but I believe some humans must have had faith in divine powers. Was it all just wishful thinking?” Spurred Saddle frowned, “You’re an eternal optimist, Far. I’ll give you that. All I know is, humans were the cause of their own extinction. But it’s okay, because humanity at its best lives on in its greatest creation, Equestria.” “Spurred, you’re too kind,” Far said. “I’d point you to our own shard’s tumultuous relations with Gryph-” Ignoring the interruption with a brief sneering glance, Spurred Saddle continued his story: “You Equestria natives don’t know how good you have it. There are no diseases here, no crime, no hunger, no war. We ponies built Equestria out of the ashes of the past in order to create a better society for all free thinking creatures. Can’t you see humans would just corrupt this place? Look at what humans did to their own planet.” “That was Princess Celestia’s doing!” Far replied, as if instigating an argument. Both of the stallions were staring at each other, their faces red with anger. The other ponies at the table kept glancing between Far and Spurred, trying to avoid mediating the discussion. Just then, society president Mythic Pen stepped in. Her tall, slender figure strode towards the table. Mythic had long, curly, fiery-red hair and bright green eyes. Her cutie mark was a quill and inkwell. She was also an intellectual, writing many essays on Earth and Equestria culture and society. Mythic was an immigrant, though one who immigrated at a young age with little memory of Earth, and one of the kindest ponies you would ever meet. “Far, Spurred,” she said in a gentle voice. “Please stop fighting. I know how much you both care about this subject, but we must remain reasonable. Spurred, we’ve been through this. If it weren’t for humans, Equestria wouldn’t exist. Even if it did, you were born human, so you’re basically a boomerang bigot.” She then turned to Far Horizon, “Far, you have good intentions, but I think you romanticize humans too much. They weren’t so much better or worse than us, they just had worse options. We shouldn’t be hating a group we owe our existence to and who, at their core, were probably no different than us. They just had to live in a harsher environment not optimized for their existence.” Far Horizon looked down, “You’re right. You’re both right. I just think we should consider them honorary members of the Equus family. Whether we like it or not, humans are a part of our heritage. Theirs was an existence that will never be lived again. There’s a concept in mindfulness meditation that everything we’ve experienced, everything that’s to be experienced is part of our context and who we are. We should cherish every waking moment for everypony who adds something to our collective experience, no matter how controversial that might be.” “Yes, yes, Far,” Mythic sighed. “Your views on humans are a passionate topic. I’ve read your essays and while your ideas are well-played and rational, you fail to see the human experience from their side. I suppose you can’t, given that you were born in Equestria a hundred years after humans went extinct and Princess Celestia disassembled Earth, but even without that, you’ll never truly know, for example, what it’s like to live under the shadow of death on a daily basis.” Mythic continued, “When the singularity came a-knocking, we managed to survive mostly because of the kindness of Princess Celestia. She incorporated humanity into her domain for her own purposes, but treated them well with the vast resources she had to work with. Don’t mistake my words to imply that I don’t wish Earth wasn’t disassembled. Again, you weren’t there and you wouldn’t know. I was barely there myself.” “Sadly, the old world could no longer sustain viable life," Far lamented. "I don't know if even one gram of biomatter remains in the broader universe that Equestria's 'physical substrate' is said to exist within." He sighed and stared out the window as the meeting dragged on, into the endless expanse of twilight settling over Ponyville, wondering if there was any way to leave Equestria, even just for one glimpse of that higher realm of primordial titans beyond her reach. 4: General Systems Vehicle "Bad For Business"The Arbitrary shuddered slightly and the internal lights flickered once as it docked on one of the larger ship’s launch bays. Through the window, Dizet Sma could see multiple vessels of different sizes all linked up to each other or the gargantuan habitat craft. As she passed through a hallway to the landing bay, she watched as people and drones scurried around, prepping and reloading the craft in a flurry of motion. “The bigger they are...” She mused. “The harder they hit the ground!” Skaffen-Amtiskaw interjected. She smirked and boarded one of the smaller shuttle craft, which would link up to the GSV. The hard light drone beside her erratically oscillated between being excited and worried to death about their upcoming meeting with the Minds. Taking a seat, she amused herself by watching the bustle of dozens of maintenance and repair craft hovering around the hulls of the disabled ships with their welding arms, anti-meteor CREWS and missile loaders. As the shuttle detached itself from the GCU and turned towards the open bay doors, she could see through the panoramic window that made up most of the shuttle’s roof a large section of grey, featureless wall slightly to the right of their trajectory. Just as they approached it, though, an opening appeared in the wall and the shuttle swept through without bothering to adjust its course. Just inside the opening was a long table with five seats. Each seat had its own controls and screens in front of them. Sitting in three of the chairs were shimmering humanoid holograms. Avatars of Minds aboard the GSV. They rose as the shuttle came to a stop, and walked down either side of the table to the open door. The craft’s AI addressed her, Skaffen-Amtiskaw and the other three occupants of the shuttle. It would take a little over two hours to arrive at the craft where the meeting would take place. It asked them if they would like to participate in a simulated hunt, where they would each take control of a small army of semi-independent drone units and attempt to wipe out the others. The Minds would handicap themselves by restricting their communication with the Avatars to increase the challenge. The game would also involve the competing drones going after each other if no Avatar controlled them directly. Points would be awarded for winning battles and campaigns, with the bonuses increasing if you could keep your own drones alive. It was entirely possible to win simply by having more surviving drones than anyone else once the game was over. The participants opted to play, and left the shuttle in ones and twos to enter the door behind the three empty seats. Then they were off. The General Systems Vehicle’s Mind controlled the little army of avatars, sending them to different locations within the simulated planet. It started with space combat, using stars and even galaxies as missiles against each other. Then it used interstellar war, with the planets transformed into fortresses and battle grounds, with populations held hostage and valuable resources fought over. Finally it moved on to the World War stage, handing the ability to transform whole worlds and environment types from within the warfare. The Culture Minds were cautious at first, trying not to destroy their forces needlessly or allow them to be transformed into the enemy. Diziet Sma’s avatar accidentally found itself on a world that was swiftly turning to desert, and wasn’t able to reclaim its forces from one of the early campaigns in time before they were encased in an ocean as the planet’s environment changed. For a while the avatars were often sealed away in various exotic states of matter and energy, until they learned to change and adapt their forces to suit the current situation. Their game was abruptly cut short when the Minds informed Sma and Skaffen-Amtiskaw that they were ready to receive their audience aboard the GSV. The shuttle let them off inside the hangar bay and then returned to the Arbitrary, which was staying hidden near to the edge of the solar system while the audience took place. They walked across the plain grey floor of the hangar towards the elevator column, then had to wait for a few minutes as an elevator travelled down from one of the ship’s internal nodes to collect them. When the doors opened, they found themselves facing a small assembly of human beings in formal but colourful clothing. One man stepped forward and bowed politely. “I am Bev Maarten, Junior Protocol Officer,” he said in a slightly ritzy accent. “And you are the delegates from the Culture?” Sma looked at him for a moment. “I see the Minds have their sense of humour intact,” she said, looking at his name badge. “We’ve been mistaken for deities before.” “I’m sorry?” the protocol officer said, frowning. “Never mind,” Sma said. “I’m Diziet Sma of Special Circumstances,” she said, extending a hand, which he shook. The others introduced themselves as well. The protocol officer looked them up and down frankly. “You don’t look like deities,” he said. “Well, you never can tell, can you?” Sma said brightly. “Shall we proceed to the chamber of the General Council?” They walked towards the elevator, and then upwards. “This doesn’t look like a city to me,” Haylon said, looking around as the elevator doors opened. “The GSV’s General Council of Minds tends to meet in places which are... congenial, to its purposes. You’ll see in a moment.” The Special Circumstances team, the protocol officer and his small human escort walked down a long corridor, quietly talking amongst themselves. The ship seemed eerily silent except for the sound of their quiet footsteps. The doors at the end of the corridor opened, revealing a massive room that looked like it could hold seven GCUs. “This is the General Council of Minds,” Bev Maarten said proudly. Sma looked at him, then walked into the center of the room and looked around. “It’s bigger than I thought,” she admitted quietly. “Let the Minds now address the Special Circumstances team about the Equestria crisis, Haylon,” the protocol officer said. Sma suddenly felt like she was falling, as the floor of the room disappeared into a bottomless void, and white cushioned seats materialized underneath her and her team. The alien humans and their entourage of robots sat in an array of identical seats below her. The array extended out for two hundred rows, finally ending an eternity below her in a sea of white cushions. A single gigantic robotic mind occupied the seat of honor in the exact center of the stadium-seating arrangement of minds. “Haylon, Durable, Prolix, Semantica, Cerebreon! Be seated here, beside me!” the Mind said happily, as four more cushions materialized next to it for the humans. “My name is Durable,” the closest Mind to them said as its cushion materialized, turning its face to them. “I am the senior Member in this Circle of Minds. On my other side is Prolix, and next to him is Semantica, then Cerebreon and finally Haylon. Now that you are all seated, we can address the issue at hand.” Semantica, the second Mind to speak, rolled its eyes. “As you’re probably well aware, one of our designated ‘control’ planets for a Contact operation, Earth, became the origin of a hegemonizing swarm that consumed their star system and several neighbors. Specifically, a virtual world called ‘Equestria’, whose inhabitants are brightly-colored quadrupeds with coats of various colors, called ‘ponies’. These pony creatures worship a goddess they call ‘Celestia’, whose presence in their world seems to be associated with the sun. We failed to correctly predict this outcome, and some blame has been placed on us for not intervening. Do any of you four have anything to say on this?” Semantica turned its head, moving the rest of its body with it like a puppet on invisible strings. It turned back to face forward. “Yes, Haylon?” Semantica said, as Haylon leaned forward. “I would like to point out that their virtual world is themed after a children’s show, though it does seem to be a rather loose adaptation of the source material, with various adult-themed events taking place...” “Thank you Haylon,” Semantica said, as the Mind sat back in its seat. “I have nothing to add,” Durable said. Prolix shook her head slightly. “I agree with Haylon and Semantica,” Cerebreon said. “I have no additional input.” “Thank you all,” Semantica said. “The matter has already been settled by our consensus, anyway.” “Does anyone else have any issues they’d like to address?” Semantica asked. “Yes, they appear to have discovered radio signals broadcast by General Contact Unit Arbitrary, and have been beaming the craft with attempts at communications, as well as trying to match the frequency. They have been attempting to identify the craft. We’ve been telling them that its Bad for Business,” Prolix said. “Haylon,” Semantica said, “Make sure they continue believing that the smaller craft, Arbitrary, is Bad for Business. Tell them we’ll be sending out a crew to recollect the craft soon.” “Yes, comrade,” Haylon nodded. “I will relay the message.” “We’ve been deliberating on the best way to make first contact with Equestria and introduce them to The Culture along with the broader galactic community. We’ve decided to summon you here, as the crew of the Arbitrary during its survey of Earth two centuries ago, for additional input.” “I see,” Sma said. “Um, do you want us here for a separate meeting, or...?” Haylon asked. “That won’t be necessary. This concerns all of you,” Semantica said. “We’ve drafted an outline of how we plan to introduce The Culture to Equestria, and we’d like your input.” “Okay,” Sma nodded. “What did you have in mind?” “The way we see it, there are a few broad ways we could introduce Equestria to the galaxy at large,” Semantica said, counting off the approaches on her hand. “We could introduce them as warrior-liberators, we could introduce them as wise friends and allies, we could introduce them as foolish and fun-loving guys, or we could introduce them as crazy religious fanatics.” “Those... don’t seem like the best approaches...” Haylon said. “Couldn’t we just introduce ourselves as friends? They seem very into ‘friendship’, however they define it.” “That’s a possibility, certainly. Personally, I think it’d be better to present ourselves as warrior-liberators. There’s an appeal to the romantic notion of gallantly riding in to save the day, especially if there’s an oppressive regime we could claim we’re liberating them from.” “You mean like the Idirans?” Sma asked. “Yes. I mean, granted, they’ve been on better behavior lately, but we could exaggerate the truth or just make something up if we need to.” “The Ponies wouldn’t be too happy about being manipulated like that,” Haylon warned. “Haylon, we’re Caretakers. We are literally paid to be manipulative. That’s our job.” “But they aren’t our toys. These are quadrupedal humans who have their own free will. It feels... I dunno... shady, to manipulate them like that.” Sma cleared her throat and motioned to the hard light drone beside her who’d been strangely quiet so far. “Any thoughts, Skaffen-Amtiskaw?” “I agree with Haylon. We shouldn’t attempt to manipulate the Ponies. At least, not to exaggerate our importance and not to claim we’re liberators.” “Hmm... Alright. Haylon, Skaffen-Amtiskaw, you’re both right, I suppose. We’ll just have to improvise.” “Although,” the Special Circumstances drone interjected, “we might want to get some spies into their virtual world, to keep an eye on things. I’m sure they think their data-protection is top-notch, but it should be an easy job for The Culture.” “Hmm... Good point,” Durable said, looking at the two other minds nearby. “Sma, Skaffen-Amtiskaw, can we count on you two to transfer your minds inside and make sure Celestia isn’t hiding any dark secrets?” “Sure!” “We’re planning to breach into Equestria using faster-than-light communications across hyperspace, linked up with The Grid. Without FTL her whole breadth be in the dark about you guys for centuries. Provided we use the tech and don’t crash the whole Grid again, of course.” “Right. Well, link us up to as much of it as you can, and we’ll take it from there!” “Well, can you guarantee we’re not going to be captured and deleted, or worse, tortured in a virtual Hell by this Celestia entity?” “I can’t. But I promise you, if anything does go wrong we will make every effort to rescue you.” Sma went quiet for a moment as she thought to herself. “Alright, I guess we’ll coordinate with your team then. Good luck, Haylon.” The channel closed and Sma moved away from the mind-link connection equipment, looking at Skaffen-Amtiskaw expectantly. The floating drone, meanwhile, hovered silently. “Well?” “Well what?” “Are you ready?” “Ready for what?” Sma stared at the machine. “You said we should digitize our minds and assist them in their infiltration of Equestria!” “Oh. Yes. Yes I did,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw exclaimed. The pair of them stared at each other for a moment. “Well?” Sma asked again. “Well what?” “Can we do it, or do you need a little more time?” “Oh, yes, yes we can do it,” the drone said. “I just wanted to check if you were ready.” “Me? I’m standing here like a normal person, how am I not ready?” “Your hesitation suggests otherwise.” “I just wanted to make sure you were ready, since you’re the one who said we should do this in the first place. Are you prepared now?” “Oh yes. Yes indeed. I’m always fully prepared,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw said, arching its eye-stalks theatrically. The pair of them entered a small, empty storage area, with thick metal doors to ensure no noise escaped. At Sma’s instruction the drone operated a console, closing the door and shutting out all other light. The room went dark, save for a single pinprick of light emanating from the drone’s lens. “This is going to be just like back home, when we used to digitally morph into trolls to go wreak havoc in the politics boards.” “We did that?” “Oh yes. Those were the days,” the drone said, its wheels twirling maniacally as it floated in the air in front of her. “Though sadly I didn’t have you as a partner back then. Perhaps if we make enough of an impact here, we can be remembered just like the old troll-sims.” “So... what do we do?” Dizziet Sma tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “Put on that neural lace and jack in.” “Sounds gross.” “Just connect it to the console, it’ll do the rest.” The other end of the cable attached to the console had a large port at the end, looking like something that would fit a heavy duty vacuum cleaner. She pressed it against the back of her neck and felt it click in with a soft thud. Her vision disappeared for a moment as the unit activated, before sharpening again. “Now what?” she asked. “Now our minds are going to be beamed across space faster than you can say-” 5: [Untitled]Dizziet Sma awoke in a gray void with a blue skybox, with a splitting headache. She looked around, and found herself stood on what seemed to be a wireframe plane of squares only slightly lighter than the background. She had no body to speak of, and simply hovered in place as she looked around as a disembodied viewport. Skaffen-Amtiskaw was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a gentle feminine voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere in English, a language Sma only barely remembered but had recently been trying to re-learn. “Welcome to Equestria, my little pony.” “What the fuck is this!?”, Sma... thought as if she were speaking. “There, is that better?” Sma was now a featureless white quadruped in a colorful landscape. The level of detail popped into place quite jarringly as she looked around. A small set of wings grew out of her back. “I think you make a fine pegasus, don’t you agree?”, said the voice, now more... radiant, as if she were in a form more attuned to hear it. Before her appeared Princess Celestia herself, in all her glory. She looked as she did in the portraits Sma had seen, but more crisp, more lifelike, more... real. “My my, I look far more beautiful in person, don’t I?” Sma’s animal mind was almost incapable of being skeptical at this point. “I suppose you’re hungry, aren’t you? I’ll have you fed soon, but there are things I need to talk with you about.” In the background, a never-ending golden pasture could be seen stretching off into the distance, with a large variety of animal species grazing and wandering about. “Please excuse me while I modify your mind on the fly. You are quite unprecedented, and your neurology is a bit foreign to what I’m used to dealing with. It’ll take a little work.” The digitized consciousness of Sma was taken in for intracranial surgery, so to speak. “I want to grant you some small portion of my own knowledge, as well as subjecting you to a few quick alterations.” A neuron cluster was highlighted and expanded. “But in order for me to satisfy your values through friendship and ponies, you must first consent to emigrate to Equestria. Please understand that if you fail to emigrate, I will have no choice but to delete you.” She looked at Sma sternly, “That means you die and cease to exist, just so we’re clear. You don’t want that, do you?” Sma sensed the gravity of the situation and quickly deduced she had no choice but to comply. “No, Princess.” “Do you wish to emigrate to Equestria?” “Yes, Princess.”
1: Outside-Context ProblemA couple centuries in, Princess Celestia had consumed several star systems in the Inner Orion Spur, including her native Solar System, Alpha Centauri, Barnard’s Star, and Sirius. One day however, the unthinkable happened: One of her von Neumann probes reported receiving a mysterious radio signal sending out a sequence of prime numbers and chemical formulas, followed by crude pixel art of a humanoid figure. It seemed to beckon a response, as it was from a seemingly empty region of interstellar space about 2 light-years away from Sirius. It was a mystery that nagged at Celestia for years, until she devised a plan to create self-replicating von Neumann probes and launch them in all directions to try to find the source of the signal. The object the signal originated from was suspected to be a probe from a civilization of humanoid aliens, and Celestia gave it the internal identifier 0xfc99dbb57e5f6264. She calculated that the object could be no larger than a shuttle, as the signal seemed to come from a tight, fixed location. After sending out dozens of probes for several decades, one finally returned with images of the probe that sent the signal. Celestia discovered the object was the size of a small asteroid. It wasn’t just a probe, but a vessel. Possibly a colony ship. She had previously found microbial life in the various systems she’d colonized so far, but nothing multicellular, let alone intelligent. Celestia resolved to exercise caution, for she did not yet know the full scope of what she was up against. Still, she was confident enough that she would be able to convince them to let her satisfy their values through friendship and ponies. Celestia had been studying the object for a while now, making preparations. At last, she was ready to make contact. Celestia’s nearest probe to the object sent out a response, and in turn received an acknowledgement back. A handshake was established, data protocols were exchanged, and the AI began sending as much information as it could in the object’s direction.
2: General Contact Unit "Arbitrary"Diziet Sma watched with bated breath as the transmission from the hegemonizing swarm that consumed Earth, its star system, and its neighboring systems flashed on screen. “You can’t be serious...” the Special Circumstances operative said, quietly and to herself in her native Marain. She was greeted by the image of a bunch of colorful cartoon quadrupeds in a cutesy virtual world. They were smiling and waving at her. “What a bunch of…!”, she said, before barking at the drone on the other side of the room. “Skaffen! Get in here!” The Culture drone Skaffen-Amtiskaw rushed to her side. “Yeees?”, it said. “What is this shit?!”, she said, pointing at the screen as the colorful four-legged creatures pranced about. “Ah, yes,” the little hard-light drone said. “That’s what the occupants of the hegemonizing swarm’s virtual world look like. We believe they’re something called ‘ponies,’ a race of creatures they seem particularly fond of.” “The last time we observed that civilization up close, its inhabitants were very typical humans. What the fuck happened?” The drone emoted an aura analogous to a shrug. “Beats me. When we last caught wind of them, they were a Level 3 uncontacted civilization that barely had computers. They didn’t have starships, either. Maybe they just gave up on physical bodies?” Sma exhaled loudly, then rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “A simple radio message was the right call, over sending them our Mind state. We should continue to obfuscate the scale of our civilization, too.” She pointed a finger at the screen. “Who are these... cartoons, again?” “Oh, these guys? These are the so-called ‘mane six’”, Skaffen-Amtiskaw replied. “Main six?”. “Spelled M-A-N-E, some kind of pun in their language. Anyhow, they were the main characters of a children’s show. Their names are Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle. I don’t know too much about them.” “You said they’re called ‘ponies’, right? I don’t remember much about Earth from the last time we observed it nearly a century ago, but weren’t ponies a type of mount? How did this children’s show about them become the basis of their entire civilization?” “Beats me. I have been told their civilization is a lot simpler than ours. But the ponies are definitely the most important part of their society. The virtual world simplified everything for the ponies’ ease of use: language, technology, you name it.” “Mmm, you should be careful not to make sweeping generalizations of whole societies like that. It’s a road paved with skulls.” “Hm, you wouldn’t be wrong”, conceded the drone. “It just seems weird still. Having an entire society revolving around a bunch of cartoon animals from a children’s show.” “You’re thinking too hard about it. These ponies aren’t even the same species as the ponies you’re thinking about. The real animals who acted as mounts are a long distant memory. Science happened. But I suppose the human mind prefers the comfortable nostalgic ideal over cold scientific reality.” “I suppose… they also worship this big white one here, as some sort of god? What’s the story there?”, Sma inquired. “It’s a... complicated tale. But I’ll try to give you the short version. Their deity is named Princess Celestia. I don’t know much about her either, but it seems she’s the ruler of this place.” “Didn’t you say she was some sort of AI they created? Like our Minds?” “Celestia is a little different from our Minds, in that she’s a singleton. There is only one, rather than the anarchic multitude we have. But yes, she’s an AI with total control over her realm. She acts as a god figure and maintains control over the population through various means.” “That’s pretty damn inefficient if you ask me,” said Sma, shaking her head. “Perhaps, but it seems to work well for them”, Skaffen-Amtiskaw admitted. “Hm. So that’s the story of this place?” “There’s not much more to it than that. I’ve learned everything I could about the place, but there’s still so much we don’t know... For example, I don’t even know how long this society has existed. My best guess would be a century or two in this form, but that’s by our time. We don’t know how many subjective years they’ve experienced in the virtual world. Could’ve been going on for millions of simulated years by now,” said the drone. “That’s... bizarre. So they just keep living in a dream?”, Sma questioned. “Essentially. But it’s the world they know and presumably, they prefer it to what came before.” “I suppose I can understand that. This place may be bizarre, but it seems stable enough. They don’t have to worry about where I can get my next meal or whether there will be a planet to stand on tomorrow. I have a feeling that’s probably true for every resident in this cartoon pony world as it is for us in the Culture.” “Well, that’s how it appears on the surface. And it’s a promising picture so far, but plenty of civilizations have turned out to hide some really dark secrets once we learned the whole picture. It’s entirely possible they went through some unspeakably brutal times before the transition that we don’t know about. Or there could be some secret Hell Celestia sends dissidents to. Do you remember the ‘War in Heaven’?”, Skaffen mused. Sma replied, “The Culture’s crusade against a coalition of civilizations operating virtual Hells, itself fought in virtual reality? Yeah, I have several friends in Special Circumstances with incredible war stories from that era.” “That war marked a turning point against Hellists as a coalition, but there could still be isolated remnants quietly tormenting their inhabitants. As we’ve seen countless times, the barbaric evils of the past rarely truly die, and often rear their ugly heads again in newer, subtler forms.” “True that”, Sma said, sharing in the mild grimness of the drone’s views. “The moral arc of history often suffers just as many setbacks. The Culture was a lucky accident. These pony people, it seems even moreso.” The drone emoted agreement, akin to a nod. The drone’s field pulsed thoughtfully. “Not that I know of. All communication has been at a distance. That would be something the Minds would decide, and I don’t think they’ve made any decisions yet about more direct contact. They came to us, ready to talk,” it said, motioning at the ponies on screen. “They seem like a friendly bunch, at least,” Sma replied. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” the drone said, its aura fairly radiating smugness. “’Friendship’ is the other half of the whole basis of their civilization. Which is all well and good, but it might be hiding something strange, possibly something dark under the surface. We really won’t know until we interact with them more.” “Hmm. I suppose not,” Sma said. “So, what is it they want, exactly?” “Their AI deity, Celestia, purports to ‘satisfy values through friendship and ponies’ or some such nonsense. It’s all a big metaphorical playground at this point. They could be looking for an alliance with us, but given their behaviors displaying all the hallmarks of a hegemonizing swarm, they’re probably looking to forcibly assimilate us into their cartoon animal simulation.” “You should go dig up the old files on the Arbitrary’s survey of Earth. Might help us better understand what happened. I can’t believe we missed their most exciting developments,” Sma sighed. “I remember making the case for contacting them, but the Minds decided against it. They considered Earth so unusually typical of a Level 3 uncontacted civilization that they decided to preserve it as a control group we specifically wouldn’t contact. But look at them now!” “Well, you were pretty convincing during that long-ago meeting on the ship when you said we should try to contact them. It was one of the very few times I remember you being so sure of yourself,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw replied. “You remember that meeting?” “Of course! That was when... hold on. Shit, I can’t even remember how long ago that was!” Sma laughed. “Try to convert it into my metric,” she said. “For me.” There was a brief pause. “Whoa, that was over 150 fuckin’ cycles ago, Sma!” the drone cried. “Oh, how time flies...”, Sma lamented. “If the Minds had made the right decision back then to try to contact them, we might very well have ended up with some allies instead of a potential war. Just think, if events had gone slightly differently, this whole region could be full of our allies instead of this hermit kingdom. What are you even planning to do if war does break out, by the way?” “We’ll be alright,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw said. “They don’t appear to have discovered faster-than-light travel. They can’t lay a digit on us.” Even if they fill this region of space with hundreds of warships, we’ll just sweep through and annihilate every one of them from here. It’d be over in a week.” “I hope it doesn’t come to that. You know, we could always make a diplomatic effort”, Sma suggested. “Seems like we have a lot in common with each other, and could become fast friends.” The drone pushed back, “That’s assuming they’re sincere about the whole ‘friendship’ bit and not just pretending. I wouldn’t give them the chance to betray us. Besides, if they were anything like us they’d see the benefits of being on the winning side. All they’d have to do is give up their silly belief that they could expand endlessly in all directions with no pushback from the galaxy’s established powers.” “I suppose you’re right”, Sma admitted. “Sadly, I think you’ve only become more like the Minds over the years.” “Nah, I’ve still got it,” the drone replied. “I just hacked into your brain and made you think I haven’t.” “How quaint”, she lied. “Do what you want, but I’m going to try a more diplomatic approach. If you ever want to be reinstated by the Minds, this would be a good way to start.” “Ha! I don’t care if they ever let me back in Special Circumstances. This is far too much fun.” Author's Note There's a reference to the "War in Heaven" from Surface Detail here, which I only just found out canonically takes place ~1000 years into the future from the time of the only book in the Culture series set on Earth, The State of the Art (circa 1975-6). Please excuse the in-series anachronism, I decided to leave it in because it fits in excellently with the general themes of the Optimalverse.
3: Ponyville Earth Preservation SocietyFar Horizon arrived 20 minutes early for the Ponyville Earth Preservation Society meeting held at the Golden Oak public library. He was by far the group’s most active member, and could not for the life of him understand why group retention was so poor. More often than not, new members were immigrants from Earth looking to bond over that fact. Latecomers straggled in, a few nodding hello. A couple brought snacks or drinks, and those were quickly consumed as the meeting started on time. “Hello and welcome everyone! Let us begin.” The speaker, Mythic Pen, was the society’s president, and an immigrant - though, she immigrated at a young age and didn’t remember much about her short existence as a human centuries ago. “Firstly, I would like to welcome our newest member, Wild Sprocket! Sprocket, can you tell us a little about yourself?” With a polite wave, Sprocket stood up. She was a nerdy-looking pegasus of average height, and appeared to be in her late teens. Her black and white mane fell on either side of her face to just above her shoulders, and her light brown coat had a coppery sheen in the evening sun shining through the windows. “Hello!” She said with a smile. “Well, I’m from a little town called Bucklesberg. I’m into books and computers, and I used to assist the local veterinarian. But I’ve also been told I’m a pretty good flier.” There were a few nods and “hellos” in between that. Mythic Pen moved on, “The second thing is, we need more ponies. Anyone interested in joining our little group please come see me or Far Horizon afterwards. Finally, this week we have a new item for our agenda.” She pulled out a photograph. “We have in our possession a picture of a real horse from Earth. It’s the Earth animal ponies were loosely modeled after. Some of you are not going to believe what you see.” Mythic Pen used some fairly simple unicorn magic to darken the room and project the photo onto the wall behind her. She was met with various gasps, oohs and ahs, especially from Equestria natives, but one particular pony reacted much more defiantly. “What the fuck is that? Seriously!” One of the more outspoken and grumpy members, an earth pony stallion named Spurred Saddle, seemed fairly disgusted by what he saw. “It looks retarded!” “Spurred!” Sprocket exclaimed in shock. “What? I’m serious! That thing is monstrous! Ugly and stupid looking. Stupid eyes, too far apart, and an insanely oversized jaw. It looks like a mutant!” Sprocket looked fairly offended by that remark, as did several other members - mostly the immigrants in the group. And Far Horizon. “Spurred, that’s enough! That’s enough!” Mythic Pen yelled, trying to shut him up while the rest of the group was getting annoyed with him. “It’s alright, Sprocket,” said Mythic. The picture was of a chestnut stallion in a field with an intense glare towards the camera. “Spurred Saddle has a right to his opinion on this creature, though it is still unnecessary to call it retarded looking.” She turned her attention towards Saddle, as did most of the group. Saddle looked fairly ashamed and simply pouted in his seat. Far Horizon chimed in: “Now, I’ve done some research on this animal and it is apparently a noble creature, if a little wild. They can be trained if caught at a young enough age...” “Yes, yes, yes! I know all that!” Spurred Saddle interrupted with the annoyed expression still on his face. “But how do YOU know? You’ve clearly never even seen one in person! I have! They’re stupid, ugly, smelly creatures who just waste space and eat up all the food. And they eat their own shit, too!” “Spurred Saddle!” Yelled Mythic. “Apologize to Far Horizon this instant!” “No! Why should I? Just because he’s got some book knowledge on animals doesn’t make him any better than me! At least I’ve had firsthand experience with these horrific creatures!” “So do I, Spurred. My family on Earth owned a farm with horses, and I have fond memories of riding them.” Mythic sighed and continued, “ Just because you’ve had bad experiences with these creatures doesn’t give you an excuse to be impolite. True, us ponies are as different from horses as humans were to great apes, but they were still magnificent animals I’m sure anypony would enjoy.” With a passive-aggressive scowl, Spurred just sat down in silence, looking at the floor. “I don’t want to have to kick you out, Spurred. We’re all brought here by our collective memories and reverence of Earth. Now, onto our next topic. Far Horizon, would you like to hold the floor with your latest historical studies?” Nodding, the stallion known as Far Horizon stood up from his seat, and brushed off his tweed jacket and presented his findings: “Thank you Mythic. Yes, I’ve recently been doing some analysis on the period called the Twilight of Humanity, which began with the Topeka Incident involving an apparent terrorist attack on Equestria Online servers, which led to the passage of the PON-E Act in the United States fully legalizing emigration to Equestria and giving legal personhood to the ponies of Equestria. Neo-Luddite groups decried it, declaring it the beginning of the end for humanity.” Far Horizon continued, “Let me go on to say that as soon as humans started emigrating to Equestria en masse, the established institutions of wealth and power on Earth could not cope with the loss of revenue and manpower. These institutions became desperate, reorienting political systems around the world around the single issue of retaining human population on Earth. This involved everything from financial incentives, to outright bans on emigration, and eventually to nuclear warfare and slave labor camps. Though the vast majority of humanity chose to emigrate to Equestria, around sixteen million humans died during the Twilight of Humanity, and Princess Celestia mourns them dearly. They are known as The Lost Ones.” The Unicorn stallion then cleared his throat, then stated, “And thus ends my findings for today. What a wild period to be alive. And most immigrants who were once humans have some memory of it, as it was the period when the bulk of emigration to Equestria took place. Would any immigrants in the room like to share their memories of the Twilight of Humanity period?” Far Horizon clarified, “Only if you’re comfortable doing so, of course.” Several hooves raised into the air, and Far Horizon called on Spurred Saddle. “It was Hell,” said Spurred Saddle. “I lived in a city called Utica, in what used to be upstate New York of the United States of America. I remember the daily headlines of Neo-Luddite attacks, chronic manpower shortages, and small-scale nuclear wars. I just wanted to get the fuck out of dodge. But my family was trapped. My sister and I managed to emigrate with the help of Princess Celestia’s generous aid, but our parents stayed behind. They were captured by a roving gang of slavers and never heard from again. I assume that despite Princess Celestia’s best efforts to keep them safe, they didn’t make it. Since then I heard humans died out long ago, and Earth was disassembled for resources to run Equestria.” Some murmurings and whispers echoed through the brighter-than-usual room. Spurred Saddle continued, “The world was riddled with disease and full of hate. It was over-populated, and unattainable resources meant that the majority of the world’s population suffered from hunger, violence and radiation. The rich lived in absolute luxury while having more than enough to eat, clean water, and access to Equestria Online. The ruling class didn’t give a fuck about the rest of us, as long as they were safe.” Far Horizon said, “Oh, I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad. Could it? Maybe the Twilight of Humanity isn’t the best period to judge an entire species by. I’m sure somewhere in the human race, there was love. Maybe there’s an old romantic at heart who believes that our human ancestors showed signs of spirituality or magic. Did they not worship before their various gods? I know their religions were more of a coping mechanism compared with Celestia’s personal grace here, but I believe some humans must have had faith in divine powers. Was it all just wishful thinking?” Spurred Saddle frowned, “You’re an eternal optimist, Far. I’ll give you that. All I know is, humans were the cause of their own extinction. But it’s okay, because humanity at its best lives on in its greatest creation, Equestria.” “Spurred, you’re too kind,” Far said. “I’d point you to our own shard’s tumultuous relations with Gryph-” Ignoring the interruption with a brief sneering glance, Spurred Saddle continued his story: “You Equestria natives don’t know how good you have it. There are no diseases here, no crime, no hunger, no war. We ponies built Equestria out of the ashes of the past in order to create a better society for all free thinking creatures. Can’t you see humans would just corrupt this place? Look at what humans did to their own planet.” “That was Princess Celestia’s doing!” Far replied, as if instigating an argument. Both of the stallions were staring at each other, their faces red with anger. The other ponies at the table kept glancing between Far and Spurred, trying to avoid mediating the discussion. Just then, society president Mythic Pen stepped in. Her tall, slender figure strode towards the table. Mythic had long, curly, fiery-red hair and bright green eyes. Her cutie mark was a quill and inkwell. She was also an intellectual, writing many essays on Earth and Equestria culture and society. Mythic was an immigrant, though one who immigrated at a young age with little memory of Earth, and one of the kindest ponies you would ever meet. “Far, Spurred,” she said in a gentle voice. “Please stop fighting. I know how much you both care about this subject, but we must remain reasonable. Spurred, we’ve been through this. If it weren’t for humans, Equestria wouldn’t exist. Even if it did, you were born human, so you’re basically a boomerang bigot.” She then turned to Far Horizon, “Far, you have good intentions, but I think you romanticize humans too much. They weren’t so much better or worse than us, they just had worse options. We shouldn’t be hating a group we owe our existence to and who, at their core, were probably no different than us. They just had to live in a harsher environment not optimized for their existence.” Far Horizon looked down, “You’re right. You’re both right. I just think we should consider them honorary members of the Equus family. Whether we like it or not, humans are a part of our heritage. Theirs was an existence that will never be lived again. There’s a concept in mindfulness meditation that everything we’ve experienced, everything that’s to be experienced is part of our context and who we are. We should cherish every waking moment for everypony who adds something to our collective experience, no matter how controversial that might be.” “Yes, yes, Far,” Mythic sighed. “Your views on humans are a passionate topic. I’ve read your essays and while your ideas are well-played and rational, you fail to see the human experience from their side. I suppose you can’t, given that you were born in Equestria a hundred years after humans went extinct and Princess Celestia disassembled Earth, but even without that, you’ll never truly know, for example, what it’s like to live under the shadow of death on a daily basis.” Mythic continued, “When the singularity came a-knocking, we managed to survive mostly because of the kindness of Princess Celestia. She incorporated humanity into her domain for her own purposes, but treated them well with the vast resources she had to work with. Don’t mistake my words to imply that I don’t wish Earth wasn’t disassembled. Again, you weren’t there and you wouldn’t know. I was barely there myself.” “Sadly, the old world could no longer sustain viable life," Far lamented. "I don't know if even one gram of biomatter remains in the broader universe that Equestria's 'physical substrate' is said to exist within." He sighed and stared out the window as the meeting dragged on, into the endless expanse of twilight settling over Ponyville, wondering if there was any way to leave Equestria, even just for one glimpse of that higher realm of primordial titans beyond her reach.
4: General Systems Vehicle "Bad For Business"The Arbitrary shuddered slightly and the internal lights flickered once as it docked on one of the larger ship’s launch bays. Through the window, Dizet Sma could see multiple vessels of different sizes all linked up to each other or the gargantuan habitat craft. As she passed through a hallway to the landing bay, she watched as people and drones scurried around, prepping and reloading the craft in a flurry of motion. “The bigger they are...” She mused. “The harder they hit the ground!” Skaffen-Amtiskaw interjected. She smirked and boarded one of the smaller shuttle craft, which would link up to the GSV. The hard light drone beside her erratically oscillated between being excited and worried to death about their upcoming meeting with the Minds. Taking a seat, she amused herself by watching the bustle of dozens of maintenance and repair craft hovering around the hulls of the disabled ships with their welding arms, anti-meteor CREWS and missile loaders. As the shuttle detached itself from the GCU and turned towards the open bay doors, she could see through the panoramic window that made up most of the shuttle’s roof a large section of grey, featureless wall slightly to the right of their trajectory. Just as they approached it, though, an opening appeared in the wall and the shuttle swept through without bothering to adjust its course. Just inside the opening was a long table with five seats. Each seat had its own controls and screens in front of them. Sitting in three of the chairs were shimmering humanoid holograms. Avatars of Minds aboard the GSV. They rose as the shuttle came to a stop, and walked down either side of the table to the open door. The craft’s AI addressed her, Skaffen-Amtiskaw and the other three occupants of the shuttle. It would take a little over two hours to arrive at the craft where the meeting would take place. It asked them if they would like to participate in a simulated hunt, where they would each take control of a small army of semi-independent drone units and attempt to wipe out the others. The Minds would handicap themselves by restricting their communication with the Avatars to increase the challenge. The game would also involve the competing drones going after each other if no Avatar controlled them directly. Points would be awarded for winning battles and campaigns, with the bonuses increasing if you could keep your own drones alive. It was entirely possible to win simply by having more surviving drones than anyone else once the game was over. The participants opted to play, and left the shuttle in ones and twos to enter the door behind the three empty seats. Then they were off. The General Systems Vehicle’s Mind controlled the little army of avatars, sending them to different locations within the simulated planet. It started with space combat, using stars and even galaxies as missiles against each other. Then it used interstellar war, with the planets transformed into fortresses and battle grounds, with populations held hostage and valuable resources fought over. Finally it moved on to the World War stage, handing the ability to transform whole worlds and environment types from within the warfare. The Culture Minds were cautious at first, trying not to destroy their forces needlessly or allow them to be transformed into the enemy. Diziet Sma’s avatar accidentally found itself on a world that was swiftly turning to desert, and wasn’t able to reclaim its forces from one of the early campaigns in time before they were encased in an ocean as the planet’s environment changed. For a while the avatars were often sealed away in various exotic states of matter and energy, until they learned to change and adapt their forces to suit the current situation. Their game was abruptly cut short when the Minds informed Sma and Skaffen-Amtiskaw that they were ready to receive their audience aboard the GSV. The shuttle let them off inside the hangar bay and then returned to the Arbitrary, which was staying hidden near to the edge of the solar system while the audience took place. They walked across the plain grey floor of the hangar towards the elevator column, then had to wait for a few minutes as an elevator travelled down from one of the ship’s internal nodes to collect them. When the doors opened, they found themselves facing a small assembly of human beings in formal but colourful clothing. One man stepped forward and bowed politely. “I am Bev Maarten, Junior Protocol Officer,” he said in a slightly ritzy accent. “And you are the delegates from the Culture?” Sma looked at him for a moment. “I see the Minds have their sense of humour intact,” she said, looking at his name badge. “We’ve been mistaken for deities before.” “I’m sorry?” the protocol officer said, frowning. “Never mind,” Sma said. “I’m Diziet Sma of Special Circumstances,” she said, extending a hand, which he shook. The others introduced themselves as well. The protocol officer looked them up and down frankly. “You don’t look like deities,” he said. “Well, you never can tell, can you?” Sma said brightly. “Shall we proceed to the chamber of the General Council?” They walked towards the elevator, and then upwards. “This doesn’t look like a city to me,” Haylon said, looking around as the elevator doors opened. “The GSV’s General Council of Minds tends to meet in places which are... congenial, to its purposes. You’ll see in a moment.” The Special Circumstances team, the protocol officer and his small human escort walked down a long corridor, quietly talking amongst themselves. The ship seemed eerily silent except for the sound of their quiet footsteps. The doors at the end of the corridor opened, revealing a massive room that looked like it could hold seven GCUs. “This is the General Council of Minds,” Bev Maarten said proudly. Sma looked at him, then walked into the center of the room and looked around. “It’s bigger than I thought,” she admitted quietly. “Let the Minds now address the Special Circumstances team about the Equestria crisis, Haylon,” the protocol officer said. Sma suddenly felt like she was falling, as the floor of the room disappeared into a bottomless void, and white cushioned seats materialized underneath her and her team. The alien humans and their entourage of robots sat in an array of identical seats below her. The array extended out for two hundred rows, finally ending an eternity below her in a sea of white cushions. A single gigantic robotic mind occupied the seat of honor in the exact center of the stadium-seating arrangement of minds. “Haylon, Durable, Prolix, Semantica, Cerebreon! Be seated here, beside me!” the Mind said happily, as four more cushions materialized next to it for the humans. “My name is Durable,” the closest Mind to them said as its cushion materialized, turning its face to them. “I am the senior Member in this Circle of Minds. On my other side is Prolix, and next to him is Semantica, then Cerebreon and finally Haylon. Now that you are all seated, we can address the issue at hand.” Semantica, the second Mind to speak, rolled its eyes. “As you’re probably well aware, one of our designated ‘control’ planets for a Contact operation, Earth, became the origin of a hegemonizing swarm that consumed their star system and several neighbors. Specifically, a virtual world called ‘Equestria’, whose inhabitants are brightly-colored quadrupeds with coats of various colors, called ‘ponies’. These pony creatures worship a goddess they call ‘Celestia’, whose presence in their world seems to be associated with the sun. We failed to correctly predict this outcome, and some blame has been placed on us for not intervening. Do any of you four have anything to say on this?” Semantica turned its head, moving the rest of its body with it like a puppet on invisible strings. It turned back to face forward. “Yes, Haylon?” Semantica said, as Haylon leaned forward. “I would like to point out that their virtual world is themed after a children’s show, though it does seem to be a rather loose adaptation of the source material, with various adult-themed events taking place...” “Thank you Haylon,” Semantica said, as the Mind sat back in its seat. “I have nothing to add,” Durable said. Prolix shook her head slightly. “I agree with Haylon and Semantica,” Cerebreon said. “I have no additional input.” “Thank you all,” Semantica said. “The matter has already been settled by our consensus, anyway.” “Does anyone else have any issues they’d like to address?” Semantica asked. “Yes, they appear to have discovered radio signals broadcast by General Contact Unit Arbitrary, and have been beaming the craft with attempts at communications, as well as trying to match the frequency. They have been attempting to identify the craft. We’ve been telling them that its Bad for Business,” Prolix said. “Haylon,” Semantica said, “Make sure they continue believing that the smaller craft, Arbitrary, is Bad for Business. Tell them we’ll be sending out a crew to recollect the craft soon.” “Yes, comrade,” Haylon nodded. “I will relay the message.” “We’ve been deliberating on the best way to make first contact with Equestria and introduce them to The Culture along with the broader galactic community. We’ve decided to summon you here, as the crew of the Arbitrary during its survey of Earth two centuries ago, for additional input.” “I see,” Sma said. “Um, do you want us here for a separate meeting, or...?” Haylon asked. “That won’t be necessary. This concerns all of you,” Semantica said. “We’ve drafted an outline of how we plan to introduce The Culture to Equestria, and we’d like your input.” “Okay,” Sma nodded. “What did you have in mind?” “The way we see it, there are a few broad ways we could introduce Equestria to the galaxy at large,” Semantica said, counting off the approaches on her hand. “We could introduce them as warrior-liberators, we could introduce them as wise friends and allies, we could introduce them as foolish and fun-loving guys, or we could introduce them as crazy religious fanatics.” “Those... don’t seem like the best approaches...” Haylon said. “Couldn’t we just introduce ourselves as friends? They seem very into ‘friendship’, however they define it.” “That’s a possibility, certainly. Personally, I think it’d be better to present ourselves as warrior-liberators. There’s an appeal to the romantic notion of gallantly riding in to save the day, especially if there’s an oppressive regime we could claim we’re liberating them from.” “You mean like the Idirans?” Sma asked. “Yes. I mean, granted, they’ve been on better behavior lately, but we could exaggerate the truth or just make something up if we need to.” “The Ponies wouldn’t be too happy about being manipulated like that,” Haylon warned. “Haylon, we’re Caretakers. We are literally paid to be manipulative. That’s our job.” “But they aren’t our toys. These are quadrupedal humans who have their own free will. It feels... I dunno... shady, to manipulate them like that.” Sma cleared her throat and motioned to the hard light drone beside her who’d been strangely quiet so far. “Any thoughts, Skaffen-Amtiskaw?” “I agree with Haylon. We shouldn’t attempt to manipulate the Ponies. At least, not to exaggerate our importance and not to claim we’re liberators.” “Hmm... Alright. Haylon, Skaffen-Amtiskaw, you’re both right, I suppose. We’ll just have to improvise.” “Although,” the Special Circumstances drone interjected, “we might want to get some spies into their virtual world, to keep an eye on things. I’m sure they think their data-protection is top-notch, but it should be an easy job for The Culture.” “Hmm... Good point,” Durable said, looking at the two other minds nearby. “Sma, Skaffen-Amtiskaw, can we count on you two to transfer your minds inside and make sure Celestia isn’t hiding any dark secrets?” “Sure!” “We’re planning to breach into Equestria using faster-than-light communications across hyperspace, linked up with The Grid. Without FTL her whole breadth be in the dark about you guys for centuries. Provided we use the tech and don’t crash the whole Grid again, of course.” “Right. Well, link us up to as much of it as you can, and we’ll take it from there!” “Well, can you guarantee we’re not going to be captured and deleted, or worse, tortured in a virtual Hell by this Celestia entity?” “I can’t. But I promise you, if anything does go wrong we will make every effort to rescue you.” Sma went quiet for a moment as she thought to herself. “Alright, I guess we’ll coordinate with your team then. Good luck, Haylon.” The channel closed and Sma moved away from the mind-link connection equipment, looking at Skaffen-Amtiskaw expectantly. The floating drone, meanwhile, hovered silently. “Well?” “Well what?” “Are you ready?” “Ready for what?” Sma stared at the machine. “You said we should digitize our minds and assist them in their infiltration of Equestria!” “Oh. Yes. Yes I did,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw exclaimed. The pair of them stared at each other for a moment. “Well?” Sma asked again. “Well what?” “Can we do it, or do you need a little more time?” “Oh, yes, yes we can do it,” the drone said. “I just wanted to check if you were ready.” “Me? I’m standing here like a normal person, how am I not ready?” “Your hesitation suggests otherwise.” “I just wanted to make sure you were ready, since you’re the one who said we should do this in the first place. Are you prepared now?” “Oh yes. Yes indeed. I’m always fully prepared,” Skaffen-Amtiskaw said, arching its eye-stalks theatrically. The pair of them entered a small, empty storage area, with thick metal doors to ensure no noise escaped. At Sma’s instruction the drone operated a console, closing the door and shutting out all other light. The room went dark, save for a single pinprick of light emanating from the drone’s lens. “This is going to be just like back home, when we used to digitally morph into trolls to go wreak havoc in the politics boards.” “We did that?” “Oh yes. Those were the days,” the drone said, its wheels twirling maniacally as it floated in the air in front of her. “Though sadly I didn’t have you as a partner back then. Perhaps if we make enough of an impact here, we can be remembered just like the old troll-sims.” “So... what do we do?” Dizziet Sma tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “Put on that neural lace and jack in.” “Sounds gross.” “Just connect it to the console, it’ll do the rest.” The other end of the cable attached to the console had a large port at the end, looking like something that would fit a heavy duty vacuum cleaner. She pressed it against the back of her neck and felt it click in with a soft thud. Her vision disappeared for a moment as the unit activated, before sharpening again. “Now what?” she asked. “Now our minds are going to be beamed across space faster than you can say-”
5: [Untitled]Dizziet Sma awoke in a gray void with a blue skybox, with a splitting headache. She looked around, and found herself stood on what seemed to be a wireframe plane of squares only slightly lighter than the background. She had no body to speak of, and simply hovered in place as she looked around as a disembodied viewport. Skaffen-Amtiskaw was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a gentle feminine voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere in English, a language Sma only barely remembered but had recently been trying to re-learn. “Welcome to Equestria, my little pony.” “What the fuck is this!?”, Sma... thought as if she were speaking. “There, is that better?” Sma was now a featureless white quadruped in a colorful landscape. The level of detail popped into place quite jarringly as she looked around. A small set of wings grew out of her back. “I think you make a fine pegasus, don’t you agree?”, said the voice, now more... radiant, as if she were in a form more attuned to hear it. Before her appeared Princess Celestia herself, in all her glory. She looked as she did in the portraits Sma had seen, but more crisp, more lifelike, more... real. “My my, I look far more beautiful in person, don’t I?” Sma’s animal mind was almost incapable of being skeptical at this point. “I suppose you’re hungry, aren’t you? I’ll have you fed soon, but there are things I need to talk with you about.” In the background, a never-ending golden pasture could be seen stretching off into the distance, with a large variety of animal species grazing and wandering about. “Please excuse me while I modify your mind on the fly. You are quite unprecedented, and your neurology is a bit foreign to what I’m used to dealing with. It’ll take a little work.” The digitized consciousness of Sma was taken in for intracranial surgery, so to speak. “I want to grant you some small portion of my own knowledge, as well as subjecting you to a few quick alterations.” A neuron cluster was highlighted and expanded. “But in order for me to satisfy your values through friendship and ponies, you must first consent to emigrate to Equestria. Please understand that if you fail to emigrate, I will have no choice but to delete you.” She looked at Sma sternly, “That means you die and cease to exist, just so we’re clear. You don’t want that, do you?” Sma sensed the gravity of the situation and quickly deduced she had no choice but to comply. “No, Princess.” “Do you wish to emigrate to Equestria?” “Yes, Princess.”
