Beacon Bomber used to joke that he’d die at sea while heroically flying into the heart of a hurricane, but instead he died on a calm, temperate evening on Spur Island.

Meaning it was not, in fact, a dark and stormy night.

Spur Island was a tiny, jagged island that rose out of the sea several kilometers off the coast of Trottingham. It boasted a sandy cove on one side that once welcomed many a happy vacationer in the summer months and humble-bragged rocky gray cliffs that lined the shores that stuck out in a way that must have resembled spurs enough to earn the island its name. It was dotted with trees and swelled upward into a lush, green hill. A dirt path led up from the main dock of the island and curved up the hill until it gave way to a path of stone tiles lined with bushes and lamps that at last led up to the hotel that crowned the island.

The Spur Island Hotel was a gleaming white two-story building with an outdoor courtyard, a grand ballroom with a stage, two dozen guest rooms with windows facing the sea, and a central tower that served as a kind of lighthouse for the island. It had once been host to travelers and vacationers of all sorts, but on the evening of Beacon Bomber’s death, it was playing host to the attendees of the Trottingham Technological Symposium.

The attendees were there to share and discuss the latest advances in technology around Equestria. Of course, the most advanced technology on the island that night was the hostess herself.

Turing Test, the Minister of Technology, happened to be a robot. Still, like any other pony, she had many other roles in life, including daughter, student, friend, and fiancée.

But it was on that not-particularly-dark-or-stormy night that she would take on a new role: detective.

“Good evening, Mr. Haybach,” Turing said, bowing to the bearded stallion who’d just entered the hotel’s ballroom. “I would like to compliment you on your hat, as it is quite aesthetically pleasing.”

“What?” Haybach said. “Er, I mean, thank you, Minister. That is… you are Minister Turing Test, are you not?”

“Indeed,” she said, bowing to him. “And I am greatly looking forward to your presentation on the future of internal combustion engines. Your work with the Marecedes Gesselschaft company is truly promising.”

“Oh!” Haybach said, perking up. “Well, Minister, we owe our growth to you and the Ministry of Technology. I am honored to be here.”

“And we are honored to have you,” she said. “Please enjoy the symposium, sir.”

She bowed once more as he trotted off with a smile on his face, and then she continued to greet more guests and to mingle as the hotel’s ballroom gradually filled with attendees. It was her duty, after all, as hostess and Master of Ceremonies for the Symposium.

As she did so, she made a mental note of how far she’d come since she first took on her position as the Minister of Technology on Celestia’s Royal Council of Advisors.

Even though the ponies of Equestria were gradually becoming more accustomed to the idea of robots, she still stood out no matter where she went. Several attendees that evening, in fact, had a notably visceral reaction to her. Many of them had never met her in person and thus didn’t quite know how to react when a walking mass of whirring metal with glowing eyes walked up and complimented them on their neckwear.

Her exterior was composed of highly-polished titanium, her hooves were brass-colored, and the seams of her joints were rubber. Her mane and tail were tubular coils of polymer filament, and her LED eyes glowed electrically violet. Her ears squeaked softly on joints as they twitched, and she possessed no mouth but instead had a faceplate with four narrow slits. Her voice was feminine but distinctly synthetic, and every syllable she uttered was as crisp and precise as a note plucked on a harp (if harps had a metallic reverb).

Around her neck, she wore an elegant purple crossover tie that Rarity gave her when she left Ponyville. Rarity said such a tasteful accessory quietly communicated friendliness and grace. Turing wondered if it was too quiet to be heard over the rest of her.

So, since ponies rarely approached her, she’d learned to approach them first and put them at ease by being polite and conversational. At the most recent Grand Galloping Gala, she’d even created a “small talk” subroutine, but the results were less than promising. Rarity apologetically informed her that her attempts at small talk were “as excruciating as very slowly being run over by a large train made entirely out of minutiae.”

Twilight and her other friends agreed (except for Rainbow Dash who didn’t know what “minutiae” meant and initially thought it was a kind of soup).

But she had gotten better. And now, after getting over their initial shock, most attendees warmed to her immediately as she greeted them and dazzled them with her knowledge of them, their inventions, and their careers.

Unfortunately, she realized, not everypony was having the same success.

“...And that’s why dunite is my current favorite rock,” Maud Pie said to the poor mare she’d cornered. “Or you can call it olivinite, but some ponies confuse it with the mineral olivenite for some reason. I’m also getting into collecting fulgurites, even though they aren’t technically rocks.”

“Oh,” said the mare.

“They’re actually mineraloid lechatelierites.”

“Lecha… er, sorry, lechatella…?” stammered the mare. She looked around desperately, realizing that, in her attempt to retreat from the merciless onslaught of geological tidbits, she’d backed herself against a wall and had no means of escape.

“It’s a non-crystalline formation of silica glass,” Maud continued. “And—”

“Maud Pie, I see you have met Ms. Cook Rain,” Turing Test said as she trotted over. “Ms. Cook Rain, I am looking forward to seeing your presentation on the mechanical dish-washing device you’ve invented. I am sorry to interrupt, but your partner, Mr. Butters, was looking for you.”

“O-oh, I see!” she said, and offered a quick bow to Maud Pie as she quickly moved away.

Maud watched her go, then turned back to Turing Test. “She asked about my field of study,” she explained in her perpetual monotone. “I guess I got a bit carried away.”

“Please do not be concerned, Maud Pie,” Turing said, gently placing her hoof on Maud’s shoulder. “This event was designed as a means for ponies all across Equestria to share their passions; you should do the same.”

“Ponies here don’t seem to care about rocks; only machines,” Maud said, looking around at the growing crowd.

The Spur Island Hotel’s ballroom floor had been set up with a few dozen round tables, each one topped with a black tablecloth and several dishes and sets of silverware. A huge, crystalline chandelier hung from the coffered ceiling cast a warm, glittering glow across the room. A stage lay at one end of the room, and a podium and a large projector screen had been set up for the evening’s presenters. To the side of the room was a long table where trays of hors d'oeuvres had been placed and were continuously replenished by the hotel staff.

Some of the attendees had already taken their seats, but most were still milling about, greeting their comrades, and chatting with each over an hors d'oeuvre.

“It is true that none of the ponies here have a presentation on rocks or their application in technology,” Turing admitted, “but it is possible that some of this evening’s presentations will interest you.”

“I doubt it,” Maud said flatly. “There’s only one machine here that I care about,” she added with a slight smirk.

Turing’s glowing pupils curved upward to indicate a smile as she nuzzled Maud’s cheek. “I am glad you accompanied me for this event, Maud Pie,” she said softly. “I know that you dislike large gatherings, and I appreciate that you only came to support me. However, it is an excellent opportunity to introduce you to some of my friends. In fact, I have just located one of them…”

Over by the hors d'oeuvres table was a younger mare in a black sequined dress. She wore a serene expression, her eyes which sparkled with intelligence were accented with pale green eyeshadow, and her mouth subtly framed with a gentle application of red lipstick. The soft light of the ballroom illuminated her chestnut brown mane that she wore in short, feathered locks as she brushed back with a dainty hoof, and the cream-colored fur of her coat had a radiant sheen. She was the belle of the ball, the very picture of youthful elegance and confidence that won the admiration and envy of every eye…

And then she crammed an entire spinach puff into her mouth with reckless abandon, her intelligent eyes almost bulging with the effort.

“Gadget!” Turing Test called, waving a metallic hoof.

Gadget’s head whipped around. “Trrfing Tfsht!” she exclaimed, spraying pastry crumbs everywhere before excitedly galloping over to them both.

She hurriedly swallowed the last bite before giving her robot friend a big hug.

“Oh gosh, Turing, it’s been too long!” she bubbled, practically bouncing on her hooves. “Mr. Vanderbull told me you’d arrived, but I’ve been so busy seeing to the final preparations that I didn’t even have time to come see you. I always read your letters in Manehattan when I get them, but just the same, I really missed you!”

“I have missed you as well, Gadget,” Turing said, placing a hoof on her chest with a metallic clank. “Also, I would like you to meet someone…”

Gadget’s eyes followed Turing’s, and she noticed Maud Pie for the first time.

“Hi,” Maud said evenly. “I’m Maud.”

“Hello, Maud, I’m Gadget!”

Maud only stared back, her expression blank.

Gadget’s smile started to waver.

“Maud Pie is my fiancée,” Turing said.

Gadget’s eyes bulged. “Oh! Oh, that’s right!” she cried, eagerly offering her hoof. “The one who likes rocks!”

“Mmhmm.” Maud nodded and shook Gadget’s hoof before proceeding to say absolutely nothing.

“Sooo…” Gadget said, shifting uncomfortably as Maud continued to stare at her unblinkingly. “Um… oh, I like your dress!”

“Thanks,” Maud said. She looked back at her dress, a bluish-green dress lined with small gems that sparkled under the light of the chandelier. “It’s the only fancy one I have.”

“I know what you mean!” Gadget said, nodding eagerly. “I bought this one in Manehattan just a few days ago because I realized I didn’t have anything snazzy to wear, and Mr. Vanderbull told me I had to dress up.”

Turing nodded, taking in Gadget’s appearance. The young mare was cream-colored and was usually seen wearing her brown mane down and sporting a baggy black jacket laden with pockets and a pair of circular red spectacles. Even with her enhanced senses, Turing Test barely recognized her.

“You look very nice, Gadget,” Turing said.

“Oh, do you really think so?!” Gadget asked as she breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s a load off my mind. I want to look my best for this event and not embarrass you or Mr. Vanderbull, but I did it all at the last minute. Did I miss anything? Is my mane okay?!”

“Yes, Gadget,” Turing assured her.

“Is my makeup smudged?!”

“No, Gadget.”

“Did I wear enough deodorant?!”

“Almost,” Maud said.

Gadget tensed up and immediately raised a foreleg for a quick sniff check.

“She is joking, Gadget,” Turing said, giving Maud as much of a look as a robot could.

Gadget’s cheeks colored as she put her hoof back down.

“Sorry,” Maud said. “I was trying to lighten the mood with a joke. But I don’t always have the best judgment in how to act in social situations.”

“Ah,” Gadget said, nodding. Then she smiled. “Well, in that case, you’re in good company. At least we can all be socially awkward together, right?”

Maud gave a small smile in return. “Sure,” she said.

Gadget was about to say something else when there was a commotion at the entrance to the ballroom. The three of them turned their heads to see the ponies nearby backing away as a group of police officers entered the room. A tall, gray stallion with a neatly trimmed mustache and an equally trimmed mane led the pack of them.

“Oh. It’s the fuzz,” Maud observed blandly. She turned to Turing Test. “If they’re here to arrest me for taking rock samples from the marble tiles in the ladies’ room, please wait for me on the outside.”

“I would gladly do so, Maud Pie, but there is no need for concern,” Turing replied. “They are here because I invited them.”

Turing trotted forward, raising a metallic hoof to get the gray stallion’s attention. He smiled and walked over to her, the uniformed police officers flanking him on both sides, as if they were a hive mind of law and order.

“Ah, Minister Turing Test, I presume?” the gray stallion asked. At her affirmation, he gave a slight bow. “Chief Inspector Neighstrad of Trotland Yard, at your service.”

Turing bowed back. “I am so glad you could come, Inspector. And these are your officers?”

“Indeed! When you sent me that letter in reply to my editorial in The Guardspony last month and invited me to share my views, the lads here all insisted on coming along to show their support. Isn’t that right, lads?!”

“Yes, Chief Inspector!” the uniformed officers all shouted and clicked their hooves together in unison.

Turing Test peered around them and saw a few others who were at the back of the crowd of half a dozen uniformed officers.

“I am pleased to welcome you all,” Turing said, bowing politely to them all.

“Wait a minute,” Gadget said, peering around the phalanx of officers, noticing a stallion bringing up the rear. “Pardon me, sir, but haven’t I seen you before?”

The stallion stepped forward and tipped his hat to Turing and the other two mares with practiced grace. He was a light brown earth pony stallion wearing a black suit and tie with a matching bowler hat. His darker brown mane curved down into a pair of neatly-trimmed mutton chops that narrowed into a thin mustache across his muzzle.

“Inspector C. Auguste Dupon,” he said, his voice a calm, clear baritone. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Minister.”

“Wait, the Inspector Dupon?!” Gadget exclaimed. “I’ve read all about you! You’re just about the most famous detective in all Equestria! Maybe the whole world!”

Dupon chuckled, adjusting his hat. “Well, I don’t know about that, but am flattered that you know of my work, Miss.”

“How could I not?!” Gadget cried.

Neighstrad gave a cough. “Er, pardon us, Minister, but we’ll find our seats now,” he said, shooting a look over at Dupon. “We wouldn’t want to impose on your time.”

“Of course,” Turing said. “However, there is no need to worry. You are not imposing at all.”

“He certainly isn’t,” Dupon chuckled, as Neighstrad bristled with indignation. “And I wouldn’t mind chatting a bit longer with the good Minister and her friends, actually, Chief Inspector.”

Neighstrad rolled his eyes and trotted off without another word, the rest of the police in tow.

“Mr. Dupon, I’d like to introduce my fiancée, Dr. Maud Pie, and Gadgette Fabienne Giroux, better known simply as ‘Gadget,’” Turing said.

Dupon bowed to Maud, tipping his hat and then offering his hoof, which she shook. “The honor is mine, Dr. Pie,” he said. Then he faced Gadget, likewise taking her hoof. “Pardonnez-moi, mais aurais-je raison de deviner que vous venez de Vanhoover, Mademoiselle?”

Gadget’s eyes lit up. “Oui Monsieur! Mais je vis maintenant à Manehattan où je travaille pour Monsieur Vanderbull, le sponsor de cet événement. Je suis honoré de vous rencontrer!”

He smiled warmly. “My, it is wonderful to hear Prench outside of my visits home,” he said. “I was born there, but have spent a great many years traveling the world before settling in Trottingham.”

Maud tapped Turing on the shoulder (producing a quiet metallic ting in the process). “Sorry, but I don’t think I’ve heard of him. What’s he famous for?”

“You’re kidding!” Gadget exclaimed. “You’ve never heard of the pony who solved the theft of the Pone-a-Lisa?!”

“No,” Maud replied.

“The Dunn Bronco Armored burglary case?”

“No.”

“The Hoofton Garden case?!”

Maud shrugged and looked to Turing for explanation.

“They are some of the most high-profile crimes in recent memory,” she explained. “Inspector Dupon solved them. It is quite impressive.”

“Oh.” Maud blinked slowly and turned back to Dupon. “I’m so impressed.”

If Dupon was put off by Maud’s demeanor, he didn’t show it, and laughed good naturedly.

She seemed to appreciate his lack of pretension and asked, “So, what’s a famous detective doing here? Extra security work?”

“Nothing so mundane, Dr. Pie,” Dupon replied. “In truth, Chief Inspector Neighstrad is the real invitee. He wrote an editorial in The Guardspony stating his belief that the latest advances in computing technology, impressive though they are, will never replace true detective work. Minister Turing offered him the chance to present his argument to this crowd with the suggestion that he might change his mind after hearing from some of Equestria’s finest innovators. And Neighstrad asked me to accompany him, and so here I am!”

“I see,” Maud said. “So, I don’t speak Prench, but it sounds like you guessed where Gadget is from. How did you know?”

“Ah, well, I suppose that is my talent, and it has served me well in my career,” he said. “It’s a simple case of logic and inference. The young mare’s name is Prench, of course, but that could mean a number of locations. However, ‘Giroux’ is quite common in the Vanhoover region, and I detected a slight ‘oo’ sound when she said ‘about’ earlier, indicating the hint of her native accent.”

Gadget rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah, jeez, and here I thought I’d lost my accent entirely,” she chuckled.

Maud stared back at Dupon.

“Ah, but perhaps you’d like a bit more of a demonstration of my skills?” Dupon surmised. “Very well…”

He cleared his throat and pointed at Gadget. “I deduce that Miss Gadget normally wears glasses. I noticed that she keeps reaching up nearby her ear as if she were adjusting a pair of spectacles that are not actually there, a common nervous habit of ponies who wear glasses. However, she does not have any notable redness of her eyes, nor is she blinking very much, so I conclude that she is not wearing contacts either. The slight strabismus she displays, though, indicates she’s taken some vision-enhancing potions, which are temporary and sometimes cause mild difficulty with focusing vision.”

As Gadget went slack-jawed, confirming his theory, he turned to Maud Pie: “Dr. Pie, when I shook your hoof, I noticed the distinctive roughness of it - if you’ll pardon me for saying so - and the abrasions around the edges. This indicates that you work in rougher terrain and have spent a prolonged period of your life breaking stones. This is further evinced by the tautness of your muscles, which I also noticed when you shook my hoof, and this belies your prodigious strength. Your mane style is also typical of a certain region of Equestria favored by earth ponies in plains regions and a certain valley to the east of the San Palamino desert. Based on this, I surmise that you were born and raised on a rock farm, most likely near Rockville, and that you continue to work in a related field. And since your fiancée identified you as ‘Doctor,’ that field would most likely be geology or ‘rockology’ as it’s sometimes known.”

Maud blinked. “Okay, he’s pretty good,” she said to Turing.

“Ooh, ooh!” Gadget exclaimed. “Do Turing, do Turing!”

“No. That’s my job,” Maud said.

Turing elbowed Maud gently as she kept her electronic eyes on the Inspector.

“And what do you deduce about me, Inspector Dupon?”

Dupon chuckled but gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I must admit, Minister, I am still puzzling you out. You are the first robot I’ve met, though I understand there are a few more of your kind in Equestria. Perhaps over the course of this evening, I might be able to provide you with my own insights.”

“Aww,” Gadget whined, her ears drooping. But then she drew herself up again. “Actually, hold on: your boss, Mr. Neighstrad, thinks machines could never replace detective work? Well, I think he’s just being close-minded! I bet Turing could be a pretty good detective if she wanted to!”

Turing tapped her chin with a series of metallic clanks. “While I have no experience with such work, it is possible that I could perform it competently. I have a strong sense of logic, and my observational and memory skills greatly exceed those of organic ponies. Such skills are required for detective work, correct?”

“Indeed, though there is a bit more to it than that,” he said with a calm smile. “But since you mentioned it, perhaps you could demonstrate your skills in the same manner as I did mine?”

Turing nodded. “Understood,” she said. “I was able to read the body language, eye movement, and heart rate of Chief Inspector Neighstrad and the rest of the police officers when they entered the room and observed how they fluctuated when Neighstrad was speaking. While he stated that the officers were accompanying him as a show of support, that was most likely a fabrication, which means he ordered them to come. Perhaps he wished to have greater support in an unfamiliar setting.

“As for you, Inspector Dupon,” Turing continued, “he shows signs of mild hostility toward you which increased when Gadget recognized you. Perhaps he is envious of your fame. But I cannot determine why he brought you, if that is the case.”

“Well, that’s very good, Minister!” Dupon said. “You are correct about Neighstrad’s coercion, and also his disdain for me. I am an officer of the law, but the truth is that I’m mostly a glorified consultant, as I was hired after I’d already gained my reputation as a private investigator, and can therefore pick and choose my assignments based on my own interest. Neighstrad resents that I’m one underling that he cannot easily boss around, and the top brass will not allow him to terminate me.

“But the reason he brought me,” he continued, “is this: the editorial he wrote was based on my musings, and he wanted me here to act as support should other ponies debate him into a corner. I’m little more than a bodyguard, protecting poor, defenseless Neighstrad from being bombarded by - gasp! - dissenting opinions!”

Gadget chuckled at that.

“Now, Minister, if I understand what you are saying, well, that means you’re essentially a walking lie detector!”

“Not necessarily; I could do it sitting down as well.”

Dupon laughed.

“But that is an apt description. When ponies lie, their heart rates increase, the pitch of their voices change, there is variance in their gaze, and so on. These changes are subtle, but my visual and auditory sensors can detect them with a high degree of accuracy compared to organic ponies. However, I cannot claim that my assessment is reliable in 100% of all situations. I have observed some ponies who can lie so skillfully that not even I can discern it.”

“Well, you do work in politics,” Maud remarked.

“Exactly. And despite a certain popular adage, none of their pants or other garments have ever combusted.”

“Well, while your skill would be quite helpful in an investigation, I remain unconvinced that a machine could do the job of a detective,” Dupon said. “To solve a truly complex case, one must take the facts of the crime and synthesize all the details into a logical, cohesive whole. And that, I believe, requires more than just logic, memory, and the ability to discern lies. One needs a certain instinct for detective work. One needs to be able to trust their gut and follow up on their hunches. Out of curiosity, Minister, have you ever had a hunch?”

Turing shook her head. “Negative. Except when I do my impression of a gargoyle.”

“It’s a pretty good likeness,” Maud said.

“Still, I believe I understand your meaning. As a robot, I lack ‘instinct.’ And I do not believe I have ever experienced what you refer to as a ‘hunch.’”

“Well, without that ability, I maintain that a machine cannot truly become a detective. That said, I am more open-minded than the Chief Inspector. Perhaps we could discuss this later this evening, Minister. I would love to hear more of your perspective on the matter now, but I’m afraid the Chief Inspector wants me to coach him one last time before his presentation.” He tipped his hat once more. “Good evening to you all, ladies.”

They watched him go for a moment before Gadget whispered to Turing, “So, be honest, do you think you could do what he does, Turing Test? You know, solve mysteries, find the bad guy, wow everypony with your skills as a detective?”

“Affirmative,” she said. “But that is only conjecture. The only way I could test such a hypothesis would be to solve a mystery myself.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have the opportunity!” Gadget said hopefully. “I hope you will!”

“Since that would involve a crime, I hope I will not.”

Sadly for both of them, Gadget’s wish would come true in the next hour.

To be continued…

Author's Note

Welcome, wonderful readers to the first Turing Test story in five years! If you're enjoying it, please leave a comment!

And for you sleuths at home, if you have any guesses about our mystery's solution along the way, please post any guesses in spoiler tags.

One final note: this story is complete, but I've chosen to serialize it daily to give y'all a chance to puzzle things out and enjoy it in small chunks, much like the original story. Until next time, remember, comments make Turing a happy robot:

"Happy beep."