Carbon Copy

     Artemis clutched his nose for the hundredth, time, wishing the pain would go away. Just like the other ninety nine (really only seven), the pain didn’t leave. In the cave, he’d been tied up, and dragged through the mines in thick vine-like ropes. From there, he they’d decided that putting him in a cart would be smarter, wheeling the short automaton uphill to the surface with the addition of several guards. The city the group emerged into was dense, having multiple story mason buildings as far as the walls surrounding the area. Now, he was sitting on the stone floor of a glorified stone shack that was in the process of being repurposed for his examination.

     Slipping the mask off his face once again, he tried bending the offending piece of metal that was his nose back to fit in the slight groove on the inside of his ‘face.’ Of course, that had required being untied, and put most of the guards on edge. Granted, they’d found their own way of intimidation: eating raw metal while waiting for that blasted orange unicorn to get back with the items that had been taken. Brushes, notebook, measuring devices... nothing intrusive, as he’d been relieved to find out, but not pleasant either.

     From the cave, he hadn’t spoken, instead retreating into his fractured mind, trying to piece how his experience was a dream. What can I test that wouldn’t line up? Nothing. If anything, there’s no way to prove to my mind that this is fake or real because I’d know the answer already and account for it.

     The small room he currently shared with the obsessive unicorn was bare, with the exception of a stool serving as a makeshift desk for Artemis’ quadruped inquisitor, and the two people inside. The unicorn had been smiling all along, something that was starting to frighten Artemis back to sanity, and was now mumbling to herself about ‘magic’ and ‘workforce.’ What had really frightened him though was the use of a seemingly telekinetic force that easily raised his arms and held the instruments in place while simultaneously writing notes and making small diagrams.

     For the time being, he’d been left alone, puzzling about the potential motives and implications of his current state of being: a short bipedal thing waddled rather than walked, with over exaggeratedly large hands, feet, and head. The body was hunched over, supported by more metal constructs that left a cavity in his stomach.  His arms and legs were just as holey, exploiting the inner workings of the devices he now used as arms. Furthermore, there was a slight glow coming from just below his chin, which could not be tilted down, and it was bothering him as much as everything else.

I feel I should know this, but just can’t get my finger on it, he dejectedly thought, trying to push back the mental wall that separated him recent memories.

Let’s see... forearms have no ability to twist, all motion is in the wrist. Same with knees and ankles. Hips are made of two separate joints, can’t bend my spine or twist my neck... I’d kill for a mirror right now, he finished lamely. All the time, he’d been turning over the damaged black mask to look at the front and back in his oversized red hands, trying to find the purpose for the size and lack of digits.

     The rusty unicorn had actually been the one to point it out to him, and helped figure out the detachment mechanism for his mask. Two screws had retracted from his cheeks when she’d flicked a switch on the back of his head, the other times she’d done so were fuzzy, and weren’t really important to the confused teenager – flipping the different switches, that is. Gingerly, he shifted around on the floor. It had only taken one try to turn the old wooden stool into a pile of splinters.

     From what he’d been able to find out about his situation, dreaming was discarded since he’d been feeling a splitting pain on his face from that damn griffin, he had somehow been dropped into a slaving operation. That, and he was a stocky midget robot that couldn’t even reach above his head.

     Soon enough, bored sighs began escaping his mouth, some turning into yawns. Gathering his strength, he moved to the corner, leaned back slightly, and tried to doze off; but, before his mind could shut down any further, the outspoken, eager, annoying, rolled-around-on-the-Martian-surface off red equine walked in, proclaiming to the world how her passion had finally been realized, and eyeing the ‘contraption’ in the corner with a renewed hunger.

     “Come here, little gollum. I’m not going to hurt you. Just need some more measurements,” she cooed, stalking his way from the doorway. Unknowingly though, she set off the glaringly obvious alarms anyone with a lick of common sense should have: too gentle, radically different behavior, desperation. All those things plus the fact of the imminent presence of slave mining told Artemis all he needed to begin breaking down the walls of shock.

     Slowly, ever so slowly he pushed himself into an upright position, feeling slightly refreshed from his earlier state of being.

Maybe I did sleep after all.

     The unicorn crept forward in the same manner a cat approaches a sparrow, leaving little to guess what she might try to do. A slightly bleached ring around the base of her horn revealed itself, clean from the dirt and grime that accentuated the rest of her coat. Then, while he’d been distracted looking at her horn, she lunged at him. His response had been to press himself against the stone wall, letting the unicorn run into his metal frame.

     “OW!” She exclaimed, attracting the attention of the guard outside the door- another armored dog.

     “Is you okay?”

     “Peachy. Now, I need to hold this thing down. Come here and help me,” came her stout order, compelling the thing across the room to enter and lay down his spear in the corner.

     Now, Artemis found himself at a much larger disadvantage than he’d initially thought. One was manageable at his size, but two? He scrapped his plans for giving the female a bear hug and trying to talk to her, instead opting to find a way to wriggle out of having to fight both of them at once. An idea occurred to him, hoping against all hope that the raw skin around her hooves meant what he thought it meant.

     “Well, isn’t that a surprise?” He asked quizzically, swinging their attention from retainment to curiosity. “Here I thought you wouldn’t take order from an ex-slave and instead you proved me wrong. I can’t imagine how your boss feels about you, working with those filthy things. The only other fact is that you’re taking orders from a bitch. I think the guys in the guard house would absolutely eat you up for bowing to a female slave.”

     The flabbergasted dog stopped, as did the psychopathic mare in front of him. He held both their attention before the armored canine plucked his spear from the corner and did a 180 out the door, slamming it as he passed. He may not have been able to reciprocate the message the thing said, but he knew enough that his orders were to stand guard, and keep an eye on both of them, not interfere.

     “WHAT IN TARTARUS WAS THAT?!” wiped the wry smile from the metaphorical muscles of the maskless robot, prompting him to smoothly reengage the lock mechanism and lean against the wall smugly. Granted, it would have been nice if he could cross his legs and arms to add a bit of an arrogant streak to his self-image, but that was impossible with his current anatomy. Really though, how the hell were two fingered hands supposed to do anything? He didn’t even have thumbs for crying out loud.

     “That, my dear, was the most appealing way to get rid of half of the cause of that foul stench in here,” came the quip, hoping to bribe any sources of pride that typically go with a female and her vanity.

     “What? I don’t stink! Furthermore, I’ll have you know-“

     “Look, you stink. I can see the vines in the corner browning.” With that, he waddled over to some dry leaves, letting them crumble between his oversized fingers for emphasis.

     “I. Don’t. STINK!” The orange mare yelled at her discovery. “I’m the one in control here! You!” she stuck a hoof his way, “Are my ticket out of here!”

Called it. “Well, thank you for finally getting to the point. Next time be a bit more honest, nobody enjoys beating around the bush.” Except maybe a lazy garden enthusiast.

     Rustic Rune stood there, annoyed. On one hoof, she’d love to study this thing and how it worked, on the other, she wanted nothing more than to chuck it back down the mine she'd found it in. Eventually, she settled for an annoyed squint at the offender in question who seemed to be more interested in the lantern on the wall.

Now this is a curious thing. No wires, completely see through. The bottom of the light bulb doesn’t twist off like it does in magic shows… Now, has she made up her mind yet? Let’s find out! In all reality, he’d been amazed he hadn’t noticed the bulb before. He’d assumed the light was electric due to the unnatural consistency, but now he found the roughly hewn gem was actually the source. Amazing!

     Something prodding his shoulder brought him out of his reverie, forcing him to take note of the present once again and reminding him of the fact that he still couldn’t turn his neck. “Hmm? Yeah, what?”

     “I’m… sorry for the way I acted earlier. It was unprofessional,” she apologized, giving an apathetic smile while nervously rubbing a hoof on her foreleg.

     “You have that issue a lot, don’t you?” Was his blunt response, infuriating the mare again.

     “GAH! Shut up! I don’t need help!”

If you actually considered it a problem, you’d have started treating it by now. This time he held his tongue, seeing that the aura around her horn had been flaring up, inadvertently making the light flicker.

     “So… what’s the deal with your, um, horn, if I might ask?” The mechanical marvel asked, trying to get away from any trouble he’d been stirring up. After all, it would be a bad idea to get too many enemies before finding an escape route.

     “What, this thing?” Replied the orange mare, tapping a hoof to her forehead, indicating her horn.

     “Yeah. Why does it glow? Almost looks controlled.”

     The unicorn sat down after making sure she wouldn't sit on a splinter on the dirt floor, cocking her head to the side in a note of confusion. “What are you talking about? Magic?” Her voice lowering in caution.

     “Yes, ‘magic,’” Artemis responded with a slight flare, throwing his hands in the air and shaking them in a manner of disbelief.

     “You’ve never seen magic?”

     “We’ve established that. Now, what about the glow?” He said, annoyed that the same material was being covered. Almost every time, yeesh. People are people everywhere, no matter the place. At least that might make them predictable here.

     “My magic?”

     “Ohhh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he sighed, rubbed his palms against the mask on his face. “Yes. Magic. Glow. How does it work?”

     “Well, magic is the embodiment of ambient energy released through ley lines. Every being has a miniature ‘ley line’ system that allows for a controlled use of magic,” she finished.

     “Okay… So, this system… How can I imagine it? Nervous system, circulatory? How about the limits placed on it, how do those work?”

      The rustic mare shifted back uncomfortably, the thing in front of her obviously had intelligence to it, but the automaton should have been designed for a single purpose or to take demands.

     “SIT!” The four limbed machine complied, a look of fear in the eye. The motion of sitting reminded her very much so of a young minotaur – blocky and not very well coordinated.

     Meanwhile, Artemis had plans of his own. Most of the ideas involved playing the part of inconsequential idiot, but that had already been blown, hence the slight widening of the eyes that had been mistaken for fear. If anything, he might as well act like this body forced him to comply with commands. I’ll think of limitations once she’s left; now, back to the ‘magic’ system problem.

     The dark maned organic machine across from him paced back and forth, gaining a slightly different view with each passing moment. I don’t get it, she thought, looking at him. What the buck is something like this doing here?

     “Perhaps I could-“ Artemis started, realizing that his question would have undesirable consequences a moment too late. He feigned a cough, then continued after a second of thought. “Perhaps I could work. What do you think? Can’t really do anything with these clamps, but I think I could manage to help with any errands involving walking around and having access to a machinist.”

A machinist? The mare’s eyes widened slightly, thinking back on history, and where that profession had started. Pneumatics probably, but that gives me a three century range of when it might have been built, she whined to herself, pouting that the origins of the thing in front of her wouldn't prove that easy to pin.

     The machine made a gesture with its right arm, twisting the fingers back and forth before glancing down at the limb and stopping.

     “Oh, right. Can’t snap my fingers to get your attention. Er, you were about to say something?”

     Her startled reaction was different than what he’d expected, but that may have been the cross species facial patterns being foreign to him. “That’s not my call. Well! Look at the time, I’ve got to get going!”

     “Wait!”

     The thoughtful unicorn turned back, spurned by how organic the thing acted. “Is the magic system closer to the nervous or circulatory system?”

     She decided to let a small smile jump on her face for a second, glad that someone else had enough curiosity to still see the world with eager eyes. “It’s a mix of the two, focusing on different aspects of the body dependent on the species. Now, stay here. I’ll be back in the morning.” The orange aura sprang from the base of her horn once more, enveloping the door and letting her leave the confined of the grey stone room.

     Like a child waiting for a parent to leave after bedtime, Artemis pushed himself to his feet after drawing a line on the dirt floor to mark his feet. It was remarkably easy to touch his toes now, and the idea of a different type of bodily system intrigued him, but less than the fact that he’d never been able to test the lower limitations of his body.

     Stretching his arms wide, he softly proclaimed with an anxious grin behind his mask, “Let’s see what this baby can do!”

What the hell happened?

     Artemis' mind was groggy, despite the fact registering that he'd been fine just before he'd fallen asleep. He groaned, feeling his 'body' shift around on a slanted floor. All he was was a metaphorical construct created by the subconscious in order to link the visual, audio, and other sensations to his dreamworld. The suit he'd been wearing was covered in grey, as was everything else.

     A slight groan to his left caught his attention, but didn't startle him. Another duplicate, another being designed only to run and maintain the animated dreams to defragment the day's memories.

     "You okay?" Artemis asked his clone.

     "I'll live. What happened?"

     "Isn't that the popular question? Anyway, let's get this thing back up and running. We can only store a few days worth of short term memories before the details start fading. As it stands now, there is going to be a huge amount of strain placed on us after that... event."

     "Alright, I'll go round up the others. You good?"

     "Yeah. I'll watch the tapes, see if there's anything to use."

     The conversation carried an intense sense of business, both mental constructs moving to their feet in a similar manner, despite the battered positions their bodies were in.

     Artemis left the cracked room with a slight breeze to his back and his counterpart to revive the other bodies strewn around the floor. Down a dust-filled grey stairwell he plodded, occasionally glancing at the blank signs to try orienting himself. It was no use though, the signs were the same color as everything else: a featureless grey coated building. By sheer luck, he happened to remember the floor for short term memory storage, narrowing his target considerably.

     With some careful consideration and hasty backtracking, he eventually found his way to his short term memory banks. Racks of servers lined the single aisle that reached back into the recess of the building, green and red lights providing the first color he'd seen.

     Trailing his hand down the right back, he casually scanned the titles written at the tops of the banks: one week, one day, last hour. With each decline in time, the vividness and details of the memory improved.

     'Let's see... start with-'

     "GAH!" The short automaton yelled. Something had nudged him, and it wasn't his cat. Instead, he awoke to a wide-eyed orange blob that had retreated to the corner. He blinked, then let his eyes refocus.

The unicorn from yesterday? Yeah, definitely not dreaming.

     "How are you feeling?" She asked, levitating a plate from of her back before dropping it. "Whoa. What did you do?"

     "Oh, that?" Artemis asked, indicating the wall behind him. "Tried fleshing out ideas for the system you described. I figure it's more an addition to the nervous system than anything," he finished, his tone lightly tinted with pride.

     On the wall were several side profiles of maneless and tailless unicorns, each with a highly detailed diagram depicting different parts of the body, but most of the information was centered around the horn.

     "This is... just... wow," she gaped, completely in awe of what she was looking at. Here were three different ideas that had been filled to such a degree, despite two of them being completely bogus.

     "My best guess would be the one where there's something similar to an optic nerve connected to the base of the horn,  but I still can't figure out how the body would absorb or manage 'magic,'" he finished with air quotes, which was pretty much all he could do that was rather normal. "You said ley lines, right?"

     "Yes," Rustic Rune replied, rather timidly, curious to see where he was going with it.

     "Alright, that makes sense then. The nerves act like a solar array to collect it, then focus it on the horn when needed. Er, is that right? It sort of makes you sound like you're part plant."

     Rune looked at the diagram on the left, which looked more to be focused around the circulatory system. She was still awestruck that this thing was learning. Even better, it could infer data and create theories. Ancient relics never did this. If they did, it mostly meant-

     "Back! Back demon! Possessed machine that defiles souls! You shall not pass!" While the dark haired mare ranted, she pressed forward, trying to intimidate the scourge before her. When she saw him staring blankly at her, he stopped, turned tail, and ran out the door, leaving Artemis alone and to his thoughts.

Is it that time of the month? Do ponies even have that? Is Lord of the Rings written here?

     Meanwhile, Rustic Rune raced back down the street to a smaller building on a dirty corner. Inside, other unicorns mulled about, charging the various gems that were brought in. There were other recharging stations like it, but this one worked specifically on maintenance. As such, there was some research and development, if only to make the workers lives easier. Rune had been reassigned here, choosing to spend her lunches scarfing own her food before running to the building her discovery was housed in.

     She burst through the front doors, startling the unicorn mercenaries and almost getting herself impaled, but paid them no heed. Instead, she made her way to a work station with a pale yellow unicorn that was sightly taller than herself.

     "Uncle Virgil! I need your help!"

     "What is it Rusty?" The old stallion asked, not bothering to look up from his work on a longer lasting lantern.

     "I need help banishing a demon," she replied, eagerly pleading her case, slightly annoyed that he still used that nickname.

     "From?"

     "A machine. It thinks, creates... I've never seen anything like it! If we found one, there could be hundreds more like it. We need to banish it back to Tartarus before it escapes!"

     "Rusty, stop."

     The mare stopped her frantic prance, instead glaring at her uncle. "Well? What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

     The old stallion stopped inspecting the metal ring around the large quartz lantern, moving a magnifying glass from his right eye. Virgil blew out his snout, sending the fine dust from the rounded edges he'd been working on. "Let's just run through this: you find something possessed, interact with it, then proceed to live normally for several days. Even worse," he set down the piece of polishing paper he'd been using, "You brought it to an easier to escape location, and on top of it, you didn't scan yourself for any curses or hexes potentially placed on you!"

     "Well, er, when you put it like that-" she stammered, trying to find a way to prove her actions, but finding nothing.

     "Exactly! You're losing your touch. Now, go back there, do it right. When you're done, then talk to me after hours. You'll know where to find me," he finished, replacing the magnifying glass and getting his hoof back to working the polishing paper on the rough milky edges.

     Hesitantly, the orange mare left, nodding to the mercenaries on either side of the door, and thinking over her uncle's words. He was right though, she really had let herself go in the months she'd been assigned to the mines. Now would be a good time to rehearse the values she'd learned from her family of archaeologists.

     Nodding down a mental checklist, she gave the armored diamond dog the order to unbar the door on the temporary prison. When the creaking hinges stopped, she slipped in the enclosed space. In front of her, a stout machine extended a single finger to scratch a diagram on a wall, this time etching graph and scribbling something next to it, then drawing a line at a point.

     With a breath to give herself confidence, she again began her spell to scan the piece of metal in front of him, lighting the area with a murky orange glow.

     "Excuse me? Knock it off, would you?" The machine chirped out, a high baritone or low tenor she thought. "I just got the lighting in here right for making the edges apparent, knock it off or acknowledge my existence first. I'm not inanimate, despite what you my think."

     Even so, she continued her scan, noticeably irritating the thing, and causing him to face her with an annoyed glare.

     "If you would be so kind as to turn off that light, I'd be more than happy to answer a few questions," he stated, icicles forming with every syllable.

     By then, her scan was complete. There was no sign of a curse or hex, but the large amount of magic was still there: a spell she couldn't identify, but couldn't deny the familiarity of. Rune closed her eyes, reeling the magic back into herself and ending the spell.

     Once again, she removed her cracked glasses and blew the strand of hair out of her eye. This time, she needed information, especially if she was going to perform an exorcism like she planned.

     "Hi, I think we got off on the wrong hoof. I'm Rustic Rune, and I'll be the one taking care of you," she soothed, trying to give the impression of a motherly instinct.

     The machine turned its entire torso to face her due to the lack of a neck, and gave her the once over with a sweep of its glowing red eyes.

     "Alright, I'll bite. What do you want?" He said, never turning his black mask away from the orange mare, her runic cutie mark simply itching to have something that would let her practice her talents again.

     "Oh, nothing. Your name, species, and what you need to eat. Very simple actually."

     Artemis stood there, forced to start thinking on his feet. With a scrambled mind and the things he learned about himself, he decided to only answer one question so he could buy some time for the others.

     "I'm a Matoran."

     From there, he tried piecing together a beautiful tapestry of lies, but found himself giving more of the truth than anything. Sure, he might have been able to eat meat back home, but that little bit of information could be stored away until he wanted to scare her.

     "I think I can eat most food, but can't be entirely sure. My,er, condition is still in the recovery stage, then I can see what I can eat. Some water and oil would be nice too. Is that it? Are we done?" Artemis finished, hoping to avoid the last piece of information to give as a handout.

     "No," the mare adjusted her cracked circular glasses back up her nose, "I still need your name."

     'I need something that sounds extremely sincere, and that I will easily recognize upon hearing... Crap, she's noticing me not reacting. I need to keep up the ruse of something that's able to be commanded.'

     The thoughts whirled through his head at a mile a minute, spinning off the insides of his skull and ricocheting back into his brain. "I don't feel comfortable giving my name."

That's all I can com up with to buy myself time? I'm pathetic.

     The unicorn's horn lit up menacingly, sending deep shadows cascading from her brow and hiding the better part of her face. "I don't care if you feel uncomfortable. You are a pile of metal. You aren't alive, just a spirit bound by enchantments. Now, before I lose my temper, tell me your name!" She howled, sweaty fur glistening with heaving breaths as she recovered from her rant.

Note to self: don't piss off- Wait, I got it! Screw not pissing off women, I've got work to do!

     "Hi, I'm Tesla. Nice to meet you too."