Cyberpony Y2K

Time was subjective.

It was such an odd thing, to think that everypony else lived with so many fewer hours in their day. At this point, Minuette couldn't imagine living like that. With everything happening to fast to do anything about.

But from Minuette's perspective, everything was too slow.

The highest level of reflex chip you could get without frying your brain was the Class 5—doubling your reaction time provided roughly a fifty-percent reduction to the speed of time. Or, from Minuette's perspective, a fifty-percent increase to the amount of time she had.

Of course, Minuette's special talent was time. Before becoming an Inquisitor, she'd worked at the Canton of Research, the Time Wing. Her job was to make sure the hourglasses were running properly. A sacred duty, truly. Princess Celestia used those hourglasses to time the days. Very rarely did she have to actually fix one of them, of course, but by virtue of the fact that the hourglasses were not Celestia, they couldn't be perfect.

By the time she'd become an Inquisitor, she'd managed to figure out how to use her special talent to half the flow of time for herself. She could move and think at twice the speed of other ponies. By the time she'd installed the spinal augment, too, she had almost twice as much time in a day as other ponies.

Whenever she could justify it to others, she sprinted. With no one to watch her, she made the trek to the Canton of Information look very short indeed.

But, still not short enough.

I should do another upgrade, she thought to herself, folding her hands behind her back as the elevator carried her. I've only upgraded my knees and lower, but my thighs are still flesh...if I had my whole legs prosthetic, I could probably do that at least three-point-four seconds faster.

A painful, buzzing sensation interrupted her, and she clutched her chest, falling back against the elevator wall.

She gritted her teeth, fighting the pain, and stood up. Chrysalis's EMP grenade had done a number on her heart augment...which she'd only been partly acclimated to, anyway. While she was returning to normal, it had definitely put a stop to any immediate plans of upgrades.

Minuette stepped off the elevator, ignoring the somewhat familiar tightness in her chest as she strode to the Canton of Information.

She paused at the doorway just long enough to catch her breath, eyes closed.

I'm gonna need a cig after this, she thought to herself. Then, she stepped through the doors.

The Canton of Information was not like the others. It was not inviting, like the Canton of Diplomacy, nor was it fuzzy like the Canton of Inquisition, and it certainly wasn't hyper-active like the Canton of Research. If it looked like anything, it was an office building.

Rows and rows of employees sat at desks, typing things rapidly at computers. A few androids were dotted here and there, but usually just bringing coffee to the various employees.

Minuette waited in line behind the tired looking receptionist, seemingly trying to explain to a noble why the Princess of Information only received guests by appointment.

"No, no, no! You don't understand! I need these documents today or my wife will think I was with someone!" He slammed his hands on the desk.

"I'm sorry, sir," the receptionist said firmly, "but as I have said, if you want to make an appointment, I can do that. If you want to access real records, I can do that. But that is it."

"I don't have time for an appointment! The missus is back at two-thirty. She expects me back at three-thirty."

"Then you should have called at ten, when she accused you of being unfaithful," the receptionist said. "The Princess already has this time booked."

"By me, actually," Minuette interrupted. "And since it is rather important, government work, please either book an appointment, or quit wasting everypony's time."

"I need this now," the noble whined. "She'll think I'm cheating on her!"

"Perhaps she wouldn't think you were cheating on her," Minuette mused, "if you didn't on a regular basis."

"I-I do not!"

"Moneybags, you tried to cheat on her with me," Minuette said. "Regardless, I do have an appointment to keep, and you are making me run late."

"B-but if I don't have those papers, she'll kill me!"

"Then at least it'll be easy to figure out who did it," Minuette said with a smile.

Moneybags paled. "M-M-Miss Inquisitor!"

Minuette clapped a hand on his shoulder, then roughly shoved him out of her way. "Get out of here before I charge you for loitering," she snapped. It was a bluff, of course—not only was he not really loitering, but it would have been the smallest crime an Inquisitor had caught somepony with, and that wasn't how Minuette wanted to go down in history.

Moneybags hesitated, trying to figure out if she was bluffing. Minuette ignored him, stepping up to the desk. "I'm Minuette, here for the 2 o'clock meeting with Princess Flurry Heart."

Moneybags, defeated, left to go sit on a bench and bemoan his fate. The receptionist sighed. "Thank you," she said. "He's run to the limit of what we allow nobles to fabricate, and the Princess personally told me not to let him in."

"You must have been relieved at that."

She snorted. "He wanted to cheat on her for me, too. At this point, I hope she shoots him."

Minuette sighed. "Now, that would get him out of your hair, sure, but it would put him squarely into mine. Though maybe I could find some other two-timing scoundrel to pin the murder on."

The receptionist laughed, under the false assumption that Minuette was joking. "Alright, Miss Inquisitor, she's ready and waiting," she said.

"Thank you," Minuette said, trotting slowly across the room to the elevator. Her eyes, however, flicked about the room as she walked.

Moneybags still, in slow motion, mopped his brow. One of the androids set down coffee for one of the richer workers. She saw Upper Crust taking some files from one of the workers. Fancy Shmancy, who's son owned a popular clubhouse in Manehattan, was browsing through tax documents. It seemed that one of his people had misplaced some files, judging by what was written on the document.

Mostly, it was the same as it always was. Arrogant nobles trying to fake their way out of problems with false documents. Which was most of the work done at the Canton of Information—scrubbing data.

While the Canton of Inquisition interacted with the Canton of Information more than any of the other five, they were at odds with each other sometimes. The Inquisitors often needed specific documents wiped from history. The Archivists had a habit of wiping documents that, sometimes, the Inquisitors rather needed.

I'm on break after this, so maybe a thing of liquor to go with that smoke...

Minuette stepped into the elevator, finally, and pushed the button to ride it up. The Canton of Information was built different than her own workplace. Rather than narrow hallways into easily-defendable, compact rooms, it was built up of three massive floors. The first was where nobles, or commoners, made appointments or accessed specific records pertaining to them.

The second was more exclusive workers, which was usually the ones in charge of wiping data. Much fewer of them, and as the glass elevator passed their floor, she caught sight of a few of them joking with each other, laughing...and, one spilling coffee all over himself as he laughed. Lip reading was child's play at her rate of time, even from a distance, so she caught exactly which obscenities he shouted as her elevator rode up to the third floor.

The door to it was blocked off from view. The Royal Archives. Paper back-ups of the digitally stored information that the Archivists had access to. The Archives were never destroyed, only moved to more secure rooms. Minuette had, on rare occasion, been granted access to the common Archives, and once the famed Starswirl the Bearded wing. She'd been surprised to learn that his philosophical works were also met with another branch of study—magic. Starswirl had been one hell of a wizard, apparently.

The elevator dinged, opening up into a grandiose ballroom. An android playing a classical piano gave her a nod as she stepped into the room.

Minuette quickly strode down the right-hand spiral staircase, to the meeting area of one of Celestia's angels.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart buzzed again, as she stepped forward, then went on one knee.

Princess Flurry Heart had been born an Alicorn, by Celestia's oldest Princess. She had, at birth, been worthy of a position in Celestia's court.

"Minnie! You know you don't have to bow. What's up?"

Apparently near-godhood meant very little to those of that position. Flurry Heart loved her aunt very much, and took great pains to make friends with the Inquisitors. Minuette hoped to keep Indigo from meeting her for as long as possible, if only to postpone her hearing of the Princess's nickname for her.

"Propriety demands it," Minuette replied.

Flurry Heart made an angry huffing sound that made her sound thirteen, rather than nineteen.

"Fine. 'A-rrrriseth thee, mine loyal servante,'" she said in a mockingly fake accent.

Minuette did her best to avoid smiling, instead rising and taking a seat without being prompted.

"So you don't usually come over for visits," Flurry said, shaking her teacup. Judging by the magic aura, she was stirring it with her magic, not a spoon of any sort. "What's up?"

"A bit of an...interesting situation," Minuette said slowly. "You see, if we--" She paused as a full glass of tea blinked into existence in front of her with a blueish aura. As well as a bagel with strawberry spread and a crumpet. "If we hear a death-threat targeting any member of the nobility," she continued, "we inform them immediately."

Flurry nodded. "So...did one noble give a death-threat to another or something?" She sipped her tea.

"No. An assailant of unknown species declared intent of ending your life."

Flurry paused. "Um..."

"I am aware, of course, that you are immortal," Minuette informed her, to which Flurry only squirmed. Her youth must have meant that she didn't particularly think about her infinite lifespan. Death was reserved for those beings of mortal flesh. "In the end, however, I deemed it would be prudent to give you forewarning."

"This is, uh...a first," Flurry Heart said, before drinking all of the tea remaining in her cup in one go. "Oh geez. Who?"

"A creature that identified herself as 'Chrysalis'. She claimed to be the last of a species called the 'Changelings', which...she claimed were wiped out by Princess Cadenza. Purposefully."

"Chrysalis?" Flurry Heart put a hand to her chin. "Hmm..." A bunch of cabinets appeared around her, and files flew out and floated around her in an arc.

Minuette, faster than Flurry Heart, reached out and touched one of the pieces of paper, having read the text on it while it was floating.

"Oh! Thanks." The rest of the documents disappeared, and Flurry Heart straightened it out with her hands. "Let's see. Uh, not a lot here. Mom must have not wanted to record most of it. But it does say that...yeah. We did, apparently, purposefully wipe them out."

Minuette let out a long, slow breath. "That," she said, "is a grievous stain for us."

"I'm sure Mom had her reasons," Flurry said, hesitantly. "Have you talked to her?"

"No. Chrysalis met her end, taking most of the urgency out of this, but I cannot believe that she was the last of her species, as she claimed." Minuette sipped her own tea. She choked, almost gagging, but managed to swallow the tea.

"Oh...to much sugar?"

"Yes, Princess," Minuette wheezed. "Um...napkin..."

Flurry Heart teleported a napkin over, which Minuette gratefully took. "I'm sorry," she apologized, coughing the last of the tea out of her lungs. "I'm not good with sweet things."

"Unless it's mint flavored. That's why they call you 'Colgate' sometimes, right?"

Minuette paused. "Please, Princess, do not speak of that nickname. I'm still trying to track down the pony responsible for it."

"I think it was Auntie Midnight, Minuette."

Oh, she's going to get it now. "Really, Princess? I had no idea." None at all.

"Um...anyway, about the, uh...'Changelings'. I'll give Mom a call, and tell her to go talk to you guys. We don't have a lot of records about them, because...it was before the Cantons were established. It happened after Mom married her first husband, back in 1004, but the reports indicate ongoing battle and hunting for them throughout 1005, too. It doesn't say why, just that it happened."

"That is...troubling. I don't...I don't like the thought that we utterly destroyed something that Princess Celestia gave to us. We're supposed to cherish and keep her world, not...burn it."

"We killed the thestrals. Or...ponies did, anyway, back in the first century."

"Chrysalis was not some ancient demon. She was flesh and blood. She was a creature, and..." Minuette paused. "And I killed her. If she was telling the truth, then I removed the last chance to preserve Princess Celestia's work."

"Oh....I see the problem," Flurry said, holding out the papers around her. "It, uh...says here that the Changelings could reproduce without mates--'"

"Using love they harvested from ponies," Minuette said. "Chrysalis explained that. Makes me scientifically curious, but I'd hate to ask about it."

"I'd hate to have to record the conversation," Flurry chuckled. "So, the good news about that is that Chrysalis might have had children, whom might be the actual last Changelings. The bad news is that, if none of them is a queen, which is rather unlikely, all things considered...then there can't be any more Changelings."

Minuette let out a long sigh. "I tried talking to her. I really did."

"Um...I'm sure you did," Flurry said. "Here, I'll go let Mom know about the...'death threat', and see if she knows any more about the Changelings than is in the records. You go take a break, okay?"

"Alright." Minuette stood, leaving the remainder of her food untouched. "Thank you for your time, Princess."

She left, quickly striding up the staircase, ignoring the android playing the piano.

She'd killed the last hope of a species. Even if there were others, they'd all die out—or be too fuming from the death of their queen to ever hope to talk about it peacefully. She'd blown it. She had destroyed their last chance to make amends between them.

Minuette quickly left the Canton of Information, heading for the Canton of Inquisition as fast as possible.

How had she been so stupid? To have failed that...she could feel Celestia's disappointment radiating down, before the clouds moved to cover the sun, so she wouldn't even have to look at Minuette. A sick feeling rose within her, as she made the trip back at least five seconds faster than she had that morning.

And what the hell kind of example was she setting for Indigo? Her brute-force tactics had worked well in the past, but they were directly responsible for Chrysalis's death. Furthermore, it was the exact same folly of Lyra's that had caused the Goldbricker incident, ending in the death of two locally famous, and indisputably good, ponies.

It was the exact kind of thing groups like Discord liked to point out.

Minuette charged to the elevator, sliding in her card so fast that the reader almost didn't catch it. Minuette wasted no time bolting out of the elevator, charging for her room at once. She flung open her drawers, rifling around until she pulled out her lighter, and a small, white salt lick.

A smoke was exactly what she needed right now.

The familiar comfort returned, as the apathy and the ability to simply not care arose. Like a lover's caress, she calmed, lying down on her bed. She turned the salt lick around in her fingers, feeling her stress and fears dissipate immediately. Contrary to how she lived the rest of her life, she enjoyed that the salt licks made her so much slower. Now she lived on the same time as everypony else...or, sort of, anyway. It was roughly the same. Maybe slower.

Yeah, so Chrysalis had died. It wasn't her fault...wasn't entirely her fault, anyway. These things happened! They...they just did.

The door to her room opened. Huh. She should have noticed somepony coming up. "Minuette? You have a moment to talk?" Indigo stepped half- into the room, before her eyes focused on Minuette.

"Hey...Indigo!" She waved, grinning. "What's...up?"

Indigo stood stock still for a moment. Or several, depending on whom you asked. "Minuette, what...what are you doing?"

"Just having a smoke, Indie," Minuette said, waving the smoking salt lick.

Indigo gagged, coming in. "What the hell do you mean? You smoke?"

"Y-yeah...? You've seen me, before, haven't you?" Minuette frowned. "Yeah, you were...just, uh...a week or two ago, I thought..." She scratched her head.

"No, I didn't," Indigo said. "I didn't know you touched that crap, Minuette."

"What...but you saw me...and I saw you..."

"You saw somepony...something...that looked exactly like me," Indigo growled, "and didn't notice that it must not have acted quite like me, and didn't notice as it swiped your security key."

Minuette paused. "O-oh. Hm. Well...uh...you wanted to talk?"

Indigo scoffed. "Forget it. We'll talk when you're not higher than I've ever flown." She slammed the door behind her as she left.

Minuette stared at the salt lick, then snuffed it with two fingers. She chucked it into the trash bin, then fell back onto her bed.

I'm a failure.

Vinyl sat up, hearing a knock upon her door. "Uh, come in?" she called out.

The door opened up, and Octavia stepped into the room. "You have a moment to talk?" she asked.

"Hmm, let me check my schedule," Vinyl said, pulling out an imaginary sheet of paper. "Huh, would you look at that. Still empty. Guess I do."

"I don't think I'll ever understand you," Octavia said, shaking her head. She closed the door behind her, then pulled the room's one and only rickety wooden chair over, sitting in front of Vinyl.

Vinyl sat up, crossing her legs, and meeting Octavia's gaze.

"So," Octavia said. "We believe we're bringing the Inquisitor's interest in me to an end."

"Oh, thank God," Vinyl said. "When that one showed up at the Flight of Fancy, I didn't know what was gonna happen." She threw one hand into the air, adding, "And then she also got handsy with me, so. Yeah. I don't like those guys."

Octavia chuckled. "Me, neither, though you might have done well not to slap her hand away."

"What, don't I have a 'right to remain silent'?"

"Not if an Inquisitor asks," Octavia replied smoothly.

"Wait, seriously?" Vinyl stared at Octavia.

Octavia nodded.

"Oh, fuck that," Vinyl said. "Those guys are jerks. What if I don't answer?"

"Well, if they think you lied, or you don't answer, they can torture you," Octavia said. "Admittedly, only senior Inquisitors can do that, but they use it to extract fake confessions if they feel the need for it."

"Yikes." Vinyl shook her head. "So, what are you doing?"

"I'm going on vacation," Octavia said. "We're setting up the last of the alibis now. I'll have a bunch of perfect excuses for everything. We have everything set up to make me innocent."

"Great! When are we leaving?"

Octavia hesitated. Vinyl would have frowned if she could. "Tavi?"

"Well, I--" She stopped. "Tavi?"

"Yeah. A nickname. Short for 'Octavia'."

"But...wouldn't it be pronounced 'Tay-vee' rather than 'Tah-vi'?" Octavia stared at her.

"Tavi sounds better," Vinyl said.

Octavia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Vinyl, you are staying here," she said.

"I'm what? But...you're my owner!"

"No one owns you."

"You, quite literally, do," Vinyl said shortly. "You own me. In the eyes of the law, and the Inquisitors, I am your android. Wouldn't they ask questions if I'm not there?"

"But if they ask the wrong questions, and you are there, then they can simply forcibly access your memory banks, and see all the information about Discord," Octavia put in. "That is, assuming you could lie past them, which I doubt."

Vinyl looked away. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked. "I don't want to be stuck in here for weeks!"

"You won't be!" Octavia said, holding up her hands. "Don't worry. Talk to Sunset, she'll..."

"What? Let an ownerless android walk around in town? In her perfect little hidden village that the Inquisitors don't think to look in? She's not stupid."

"No pony would think twice about it," Octavia replied. She put a hand on Vinyl's shoulder. "Come on. It'll be fine."

"It will not be fine," Vinyl argued stubbornly. "You don't know what this is like, Tavi. Have you ever been ripped away from all your friends and any semblance of familiarity you knew, then been stuffed into an old haunted castle in the middle of the Goddamn Everfree Forest with no idea when you're going to get to leave?"

"Yes, actually."

Vinyl paused, running a hand through her mane. "Oh. Now I feel rather childish."

Octavia leaned back eyes closed. "Fuck it," she muttered to herself. "Vinyl...would you like to know how I joined Discord?"

"I've...asked a few ponies why they joined, so..." Vinyl moved in her seat, to better face Octavia. "Sure. Let's hear it."

"Well...it started shortly after my musical career took its final turn for the worse. It started with a kind-hearted stallion named Goldbricker."