Quantum Mechanics

by Just Horsing Around

As It's Making Its Way Back Down

Previous Chapter

=====// \=====

“I can't believe it, Sarge! I thought we'd be lucky to ever see the sun again, let alone to be straight back up guarding the Princess. I mean, we hadn't even got back down to the ground floor!”

Sergeant Halberd looked across at Private Light Brigade and wondered yet again if he'd been dropped on his head as a foal. Actually, he wasn't a bad recruit, for all that he was still sopping wet behind the ears, but it was painfully obvious that the third foal of his very much upwardly-mobile merchant family had led a sheltered life so far.

“There's probably a reason for that, Private,” she noted drily.

“Really? But she and Princess Luna seemed really angry! I don't think I've ever been so scared in all my life!” Light Brigade burbled.

Again, Halberd looked sideways at him and wondered if the innocence in his voice was actually genuine or if he was subtly taking the pee.

“I wonder who this 'important visitor' is?” he continued as they started up the winding staircase to the top of the tower. “Princess Luna said something about a pig, and they're not so bad if you don't mind the smell?”

Very sheltered.

“I'm afraid to find out.”

She couldn't think of any reason that they would be plucked from the ranks to guard anything more important than a banana after the little scene earlier, but thirty years of experience told her that she probably didn't want to know the answer – and while there was unlikely to be any actual danger, they weren't going to enjoy finding out.

Beside her, Light Brigade sighed happily, “I can't wait! It's such an honour!”

Yes, dropped on his head. Repeatedly, from a second-floor window. She shook her head and focused her attention on getting herself up the stairs without tripping and breaking her neck. Achievable goals, Halberd, achievable goals...

“My lad, you have an awful lot to learn.”

=====// \=====

Celestia paced slowly around the small balcony at the top of the tower, still embarrassingly bathed in orange tones from her recalcitrant celestial sphere. Just as she was wondering if she should have gone downstairs in search of her afternoon's cup of coffee – Or sent somepony to get me one, Good Me, why don't I think more clearly sometimes – her acute eyesight spotted a tiny dot approaching from the eastern sky. She shook out her wings and resettled them, trying to prepare herself.

Gradually, the dot got larger until the unlikely-looking carriage touched down atop the tower. Its square, boxy body was even more battered and dented than she remembered, blisters and rust stains and small perforations mottling the yellow-painted metal around the sagging wheels. The door to the cab shrieked open on ungreased hinges, disgorging a miasma of yellowish smoke from the interior as an eye-searing abomination jumped down heavily.

“Awright, darling? Universe Association Breakdown and Recovery Serv-,” it began brusquely in a gravelly voice which spoke of an aeon of cigarettes, before turning towards her with a large toolbox clutched in one claw and doing a double-take, “Oh, it's you.”

The creature was a strange sort of bipedal dragon, mostly covered in flabby scales of a sickly green. The exceptions were the stunted, leathery wings which protruded from its back and the slimy, mucous-covered head; a fleshy, featureless dome with two blood-red eyes above a thick beard of writhing tentacles. Incongruously, the dog-end of a cigarette with a long, precarious column of ash poked through the tentacles, presumably at the corner of the thing's mouth.

Celestia smiled weakly, trying to persuade her stomach not to throw up as it straightened itself and smoothed its tentacles with a self-conscious claw. “Hallo again, Cthulhu.”

“Oh, I 'member you. Flat bat'ry last time, wunnit?” it slimed ingratiatingly at her.

Oh my, he hasn't gotten any more attractive. “Yes, that's right.”

Behind her, she could hear the shocked hyperventilation of her guards, accompanied by a distressing trickling sound from one of them. Oh dear. Maybe I went a little bit far in insisting that they stay for this. That was always her trouble; she loved playing little pranks on ponies right up until the fun started, when she immediately started feeling bad for them. Maybe I'll give these two a week off to recover, later? Hmm, perhaps two!

The thing snorted, which set off a long, revoltingly-liquid coughing fit. Eventually, it hacked something up and spat discreetly beside the van, where the stone began to sizzle and dissolve.

“'Scuse me. Yeah, they always put it off, 'till one morning you gotta ice-age an' they just don't start on them cold mornings, y'know? There's no telling somebeings! Still, that's what they got me for, darlin', now what is it today?”

“Well, it's my sun, you see...” Celestia outlined the problem while trying to avoid a little dance of revulsion. It wasn't his fault that his physical form was unappealing, and taken in isolation it wasn't so very bad, but even to her as a goddess something about him screamed Abomination! Eldritch and vile! on some sort of primal level like the Royal Canterlot Voice through a megaphone. She didn't dare think what it was like for the ordinary mortals.

“'s your Hermitian string-function clutches have gone. I swear, this bloody model! Endless trouble wiv 'em, you got done up a treat when they hocked this one on you, love!”

“Yes, yes, I see, but can you fix it? The moon's supposed to be up already, you see, and the day's getting rather a lot longer than it's supposed to be...” Why did her mouth always run on when speaking to him? Why?

“Weeeeell, dunno. Can't get the parts, see, they stopped makin' 'em a few million years ago. I can't promise nuffink, but I'll 'ave a look in the van. Boy!” He bellowed the last word, and the door on the far side of the carriage creaked open in response.

Dear Me, there's another of them! How can there be another one? Celestia shivered despite the warm evening air. This one was remarkably similar in appearance to Cthulhu but its mouth-tentacles were thinner and shorter, and the dome of its head was disfigured with angry purple boils and spots.

“Pop 'round and 'ave a butchers under the hood, will ya, lad? String-function clutches. We got any Hamiltonian harmonic oscillators in the back?”

“Used the last one last week, unless you restocked?” it said in a slightly whiny voice. The younger abomination hauled open the side of the carriage and rummaged briskly, “No, there's one here. I'll take some Uncertainty grease as well, like. I might need it, I might not.”

With that, its form wavered and vanished, leaving Celestia to wonder if its last statement had been some sort of joke and to make awkward small talk with Cthulhu as he tried to light another fag with the guttering dog-end of his last one.

“So, er... keeping you busy, are they?”

Cthulhu harrumphed, the tentacles around his mouth heaving and seething hideously in amusement, “You might say, darlin', you might say. Universes these days, they don't make 'em like they used to. Oh, they're awright when they're new, but put a few million years onna clock an' once fings start going on 'em, they're forever inna shop 'cos they're so bloody complicated that you gotta replace whole units at once, none of these simple repairs inna field like on these older universes. 'Ere, you gotta light, love?”

He rambled on and on while Celestia forced herself to keep her rather fixed smile in place and nod at appropriate intervals. For all her composure and eternal grace, Celestia nearly jumped when the younger creature popped suddenly back into existence. Behind her, there was a sharp gasp of breath from the Sergeant, accompanied by a high-pitched, girly shriek from the Private which would have cost him endless humiliation from his fellow soldiers had any of them heard him – assuming they weren't fleeing in gibbering terror themselves, of course.

The younger creature brandished a hefty object in one claw which danced and shimmered in the air. Celestia's eyes crossed when she tried to focus closely on it, but it looked strangely like a Möbius triangle with three right-angles on top of a small harmonium.

Cthulhu seemed to recognise it without effort, “Oh, a Von Neumann bearing?”

“Yes, boss,” the younger being grunted, heaving it into the back of the van with a surprisingly melodious crash, “That one went near the second Overberg and jammed the whole bloody works up. I'll see what I can find, but pop over an' have a look.”

=====// \=====

Sergeant Halberd kept her face smooth and watchful thanks to long years of practice, but internally her heart beat an insane tattoo against her ribs and she thanked both deities that lunch was long since past and her stomach was empty. Beside her, she could heard Light Brigade's armour jingling softly from the force of his terrified tremors. But he was still there, she reminded herself. She could think of any number of guardsponies who would have broken down and fled before thetwo mouth-dessicating horrors chatting idly with her Princess and popping in and out of reality like a revolving door, but he had stuck to his duty beside her. Of course, he could just be too terrified to move, a corner of her brain cheerfully reminded her, Are you certain you could, if they started threatening the Princess?

Finally, her fervent prayers were answered when the older creature suggested that Celestia try lowering the sun. She watched her Princess brace herself and reach out as she had done so many times before, and this time the sun cruised smoothly below the horizon without complaint leaving night to settle across the land. In a reassuring reminder of normality, she even heard the first cautious notes of the crickets break out far below as the creatures packed up their van and prepared to leave.

“That should hold you for another 10,000 years or so, but I'd get it done soonest if I were you,” said Cthulhu, lighting up his seventh fag of the visit. “Say, 'Hallo', to that lovely sister of yours. Shame I missed her, she's such a gorgeous little thing,” it leered.

“Er, I'll be sure to tell her.” Even Celestia's voice sounded strained at that point, “Now, how much do I owe you?”

“On top of the standard membership fee?”

Cthulhu's head turned slowly and fixed on the Sergeant, and suddenly his eyes seemed encompass the world and bore straight down into her soul with the terrifying intensity of the supreme predator. Her heart lurched to a stop, a primal urge to flee pressing in on her mind so strongly it actually transfixed her in place as the thing's amusement radiated like a malevolent sun.

“I'd say a couple of ponies.”

She heard the heavy crash of Light Brigade's faint before her own darkness swept over her.

=====// \=====

Celestia gave Cthulhu a very flat look at his hissing laughter, his mouth-tentacles shaking along with his body. Beside him, his underling just rolled his eyes in a bored fashion.

“Was it really necessary for you to terrify my poor guard so?” she asked severely.

“All in good fun, love, all in good fun.” Cthulhu chuckled, wiping his eyes with a greasy claw.

“For you, maybe, but they're only mortals, you know!”

She counted out fifty bits with rather bad grace and passed them over, getting a stained receipt in return which she delicately floated back to the Treasury so that she didn't have to touch it. With a wave of his claw, Cthulhu and his sidekick roared off in a cloud of greasy smoke, gradually fading from sight and from her reality. When the last traces of their carriage had disappeared, she turnedand looked down at her crumpled guards, huffing in annoyance.

“I swear, Luna was right,” she muttered sullenly, “Next time, the bloody day will just have to last forever!”

=====// F I N I S \=====