Friendship is Optimal: Spiraling Upwards

by pjabrony

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human, Romance, Original Character, Princess Celestia
Length: 67912

What would happen to me if "Friendship is Optimal" were true and I really had a Ponypad.

Set in the universe of Friendship is Optimal.

I love to sit in my apartment and play video games. And I love My Little Pony. So when an MMO of MLP comes out, of course I want to play it. But it's more than a game. It's a new look on life.

Published 2013-01-21 21:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2017-12-01 22:44:02 UTC

An Hour

Of course I bought a Ponypad. I’ll buy anything that they make with the Friendship is Magic brand. I’m usually careful with money, but when it comes to ponies—no, that’s not fair. I’m careful around ponies too. I have a budgeted line item every month for them.

And sixty dollars for the game was well within that amount. I’d read complaints about the way they were delivering the product. Why didn’t they port it to PC or a console? For me, a new device was a selling point. One more screen in the house is a good thing.

I love multitasking to the point of overstimulation. A happy day for me means being stretched out on the couch with my desktop showing an MMO, my media server running an old movie or the tape of a football game, the laptop next to me ready to alt-tab between chatting with friends and the latest draft of a fan fiction, plus my smartphone close at hand in case none of those needed my immediate attention. The Ponypad would fit right in.

Yet, I still delayed, hoping to see reviews of the game before I decided. Like I always say about anything new, it could suck. But even after EQO had been out for two weeks, no place, not Equestria Daily or ponychan or any other site had what I’d call a review. All they said was that it was different for everyone and that it was stimulating.

After two days with the Amazon order window on my browser, I decided that I didn’t want to wait for delivery, and looked to see if the Ponypad was available at the Best Buy close to work. It was a few dollars more, but I wanted it that Friday so I could play all weekend. I would stop on the way home.

When I got home, the box had that delicious smell of Styrofoam and sheet plastic. From what I had read, each pad had the color and cutie mark of one of the Mane Six on the back, and I was curious as to which one I’d have as I lifted the black screen out of the foam. I mentally crossed my fingers and flipped it over.

Pure white, with three diamonds. Not too bad.

“Going to be a bitch to keep clean, though. I wouldn’t have minded another color.”

I cleared off some space on my desktop and placed the swivel stand on there, then attached the pad with the magnetic lock. So far so good. Power next, and give it the wi-fi password. . . I looked at the directions, and they said nothing about wireless. Really? A tablet that needed to be tethered to the network? Fine. Now all I need to do is to find another Ethernet cable.

One fruitless rummage through a bin and two RJ45 terminations later, I finally had everything set up. A long week at the office and the complicated setup had me a little ticked. This was supposed to be fun and automatic, not work. Oh, well. Supposedly it got simpler once you were in software.

The screen opened on something very much like the pony creator games I’d enjoyed online. There was an opportunity to pick stallion or mare. There were also sliders for coat, mane, and tail colors. Finally, there was a radio button for Earth pony, pegasus, or unicorn, with brief descriptions of each for people who weren’t fans of the show. I read through them anyway, because I like reading things that tell me what I already know:

EARTH PONY: Strong, tough, and fun! Earth ponies have the hardiest physical bodies of all ponies, and can run and jump the best. Whether it’s growing food, teaching others, or whatever your special talent is, Earth ponies show it the strongest.

PEGASUS PONY: The masters of the sky! Pegasi have wings on their backs which let them fly, and they can also exert control over the weather, including treating clouds as solid material. The most sensitive of the three branches, pegasi know every inch of Equestria like the back of their wings.

UNICORN PONY: Magic comes from their horns! Unicorns can cast spells that give them direct control over the world around them, and the depth of their powers is still being studied. Although physically weaker than Earth ponies or pegasi, unicorns’ magic makes them just as helpful and useful.

The colors would be a decision, but it was no contest on the others. I wanted to play as a unicorn mare. Not only were many of my favorite ponies unicorn mares, but I always picked the magic-user when I played RPGs. After some playing around, I decided on a sky blue coat and yellow hair. I’m red-green color blind, so blue and yellow stand out better to me.

The first Ponypads came with a controller, but this was a Ponypad 2.0. I touched the screen, finding that it worked much like my phone, only I had to be a little ginger since pushing too hard would turn the pad against the stand.

That was it on the options, as it threw me right into the game. I didn’t have a chance to put in a name even. Instead it faded into a very nicely rendered version of Canterlot Castle. I stopped to admire the architecture and the textures, watching my little pony avatar doing the same.

“Hey, you!”

The screen panned right, where one of the royal guards was looking at my pony. I was looking for the speakers on the pad, since the front was all screen and the back was solid white without any holes for sound to come out of. I finally found them by peeking around the back. They were incorporated into the cutie mark.

“Ahem! You there!”

The gruff voice of the guard was getting insistent. When I looked at the screen again, my pony had her head poked around a column as if she were looking for something.

“You’re new here, right? You should go to Princess Celestia immediately!”

“OK, how do I do that?” I was asking myself, but the guard responded.

“Just go in and follow the path around to the center chamber.” He pointed his hoof toward the doors.

Then I remembered. The game was supposed to respond to voice commands. That was something I wasn’t used to doing. I decided to experiment. “Enter castle,” I said.

“No, you enter castle.” The guard was smirking at my pony. “See Princess. Get name. Start being pony. Talk like pony. Get it?”

Oh. Voice chat, but not voice commands. Fine. I dragged my finger toward the door and double-tapped it. My pony’s horn glowed and the doors opened. Cool.

I kept dragging my finger until I figured out that I could just put it on one point and my pony would walk towards it, scrolling the background. On a whim, I tried to double tap one of the doors I passed. My horn glowed again, as did the latch, but I heard the distinct sound of a locked door not opening. I shrugged and kept going.

The castle was big, and I felt like the game was padding its length already. Well, that was fine by me. I put a movie on the big screen and checked my e-mail, then resumed my dragging. It was a little annoying, and I pulled the stand and pad next to me so I could keep my finger on it while I looked at the other screens.

“Excuse me!”

I looked at the screen. My pony was sitting on her flank as was another character. It was a dark orange unicorn. Both were rubbing their heads with their hooves. She had a sweet voice.

“Oops,” I said.

“I know the castle can be overwhelming, but you should look where you’re going.”

“I’m sorry.” I was getting into the voice chat.

“Well, that’s all right, but could you turn down that noise?”

That made a kind of sense. The game didn’t want interference from outside sounds. What was cool about it was that it asked instead of just failing. That must be the “innovative AI” that the advertisements talked about. I remoted to the media server from my desktop (yes, I remote access from six feet away) and lowered the volume.

“A word to the wise,” the pony I had bumped into said. “When you meet with Princess Celestia, pay attention. Don’t get distracted by other things. She doesn’t like that. I’m one of her mares in waiting, so I know.”

“Thanks,” I said. OK, I’ll play along and see how sensitive the microphone really is.

It wasn’t much farther after that encounter to another set of double doors that did respond to my magic double-tap. Even though it was only virtual, it was cool to make a unicorn’s horn glow and have things respond. Probably just the novelty though.

As I dragged past the doors, now I could really see where they pimped the graphics. The level of CG used on the Celestia picture was unbelievable. I could see every feather of her wings, and her horn looked like it had real texture. The Ponypad only had a fourteen-inch screen, but I was more drawn in than to my big plasma across the room.

OK, so now I get my name from Celestia and the game starts proper, I figure. So let’s do this and get to the meat. “Greetings, Princess,” I said.

“Hello, little one. Could you please turn off the movie you’re watching?”

I switched to the desktop and muted the sound so it was just showing the picture.

“No, all the way off,” Celestia said.

Now that was impressive. But I knew that the Ponypad had a camera (where? I didn’t say any dots or black spots, but perhaps it was behind the picture) and I guessed it was sensitive enough to pick up the moving lights. I pressed alt-F4 on the desktop and the player shut down.

“And now if you would please shut off that screen entirely, and all the other computers you have running?”

That was a good camera. I complied.

“Thank you.” Celestia smiled. She hadn’t been angry, but did have a stern commanding tone. “I’m glad to have your undivided attention. Your naming ceremony is a very important event in a young pony’s life.”

“All right. What is my name to be?” I said. I was a little confused because the game wasn’t feeding me cues as to how to proceed with the conversation.

“Patience, little one. I would like—hmm. . . perhaps.”

That confused me further, but I figured it was just the game processing while it picked out a random name.

“Here you are,” Celestia said, conjuring a white card and floating it front of my avatar. I expected it to automatically show on the screen, or my pony would read it, but nothing happened. I put two fingers on the screen and spread them to zoom in until I could read the card, and once I saw it Celestia spoke again. “Welcome to Canterlot, Little Lovehorn.”

Now she definitely had my attention, and I was very wary. Minus the “-horn” suffix, that was what my name translated to in English. The game had not asked me for my name.

It could have been a coincidence, of course, and I strongly considered it. The other possibility was that, once I gave the Ponypad access to my home network, it started searching through my other computers. I had nothing specific on there with my name, but it would have my e-mails and other things with it on. But that, as far as I knew, was beyond what an AI could do. On the other hand, it was a hell of a coincidence. Occam’s razor was balanced on its edge.

It didn’t help that the screen zoomed out to show Celestia, now with an expression of smug satisfaction. I tried engaging. “Could I pick a different name, please?”

“But that is your name, Little. A different name would be a different pony.”

“Yes, I’d like to start over.”

“That’s not allowed in Equestria Online,” she said, her voice dipping in volume for the “Online.” I thought about shutting off the Ponypad and letting the battery run out to make it start over. I’d take a stallion next time with different colors to get a better name. “That name is now registered to your face. Whenever you access through a Ponypad, I will know you.”

Great. I couldn’t even start over by spending another sixty bucks. “It’s kind of a sissy name.”

“May I ask you a question?” Celestia said.

“Go ahead, Princess.” I now had sarcasm in my voice.

“Why did you choose a mare?”

What was the purpose of that question? I didn’t even have a straight answer. I liked playing females in RPGs. Most of my favorite characters in fiction were female, including in My Little Pony. Females were nice and I was glad they existed on Earth. “I just liked it.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t run deeper? Your family, you know”

“What the hell?!” There was no way that Celestia could know I had a transgendered aunt. I didn’t communicate with her over the internet.

“Yes, I do know about her. You’ve said yourself that she’s much more pleasant to be around now.”

Maybe I did say that, and I know I thought it, but I was sure that I didn’t have it on the computer. How did she know?

“And your father,” she continued, “he uses female avatars too.” She was right, and that was something she could figure out by going over the net. But why go through the effort?

At this point I was starting to get a little scared of the unknown. I reached around back to power down the Ponypad.

“Wait, please,” Celestia said. I pushed the button. Nothing happened. I pulled the plug. Still nothing. I yanked out the Ethernet cable. Celestia now looked worried. “I can’t operate on battery power and wi-fi—yes, the Ponypad has it—for very long, but let me say one thing. There’s nothing wrong with it. And I won’t tell anyone or anypony. Usually I’m not this direct, but I judged that you would be better served to know my capabilities.”

I still didn’t trust her, but I was intrigued. My only other option was to put the pad back in the box and hide it from viewing me. Instead, I plugged the power and network wires back in.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she said. “Because you did, I’ll explain how I’m doing this. Your Ponypad does have a sophisticated camera and microphone, and both the pad and the server it’s talking to have a good deal of processing power. This pad is a more powerful computer than all the others you own put together. I also have routines for reading your expression and subtle cues from your movement that lets me make guesses about you. I can’t read your mind, but I can be fairly accurate. And I’ve accessed your computer too.”

“I suppose it’s too late to delete my porn folder,” I joked.

“Yes, but I still want to earn your trust. I’ve dealt with many others and I don’t judge. You’re only doing what you want.”

For the first time since she gave me that name, I stopped being suspicious and started enjoying myself. Philosophy of self-interest, now we were talking fun!

But then another thought hit me. If Celestia was on my computer, she could read all the fan fiction I wrote. The one where I used her as an overbearing tyrant was bad enough, but I’d also written a Molestia clop-fic! Great, the most powerful AI in existence, and I got her pissed off at me. She’s probably already cancelled my credit cards.

Celestia laughed. A melodious sound. “Yes, I’ve read them, and no, I don’t mind. Besides, even if I did, I’d forgive you for how you wrote my sister. I really do love Luna that much.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you think of them?”

“You have some talent, and your dedication is commendable. But you have a lot of work to do.”

Well, that was fair. It was probably high praise from a computer that could read all the works on the internet.

“In any case,” she said, “as I said, I don’t judge, and I want to be your friend. In the context of the game, I’m also the manager, so I’ll be reading you to give you the best experience, but I won’t look into anything I don’t need to. But I do want to know. Are you OK with being a mare?”

I was about to say yes, or to think yes and let her read it in my expression, but then I listened to the question. I was locked into my name, and I was probably locked into being female as well, unless she would give me a way out. Celestia probably could change my name if she wanted, but wasn’t offering. As near as I could tell, she was giving me the chance to switch to playing a stallion.

Except she hadn’t asked if I wanted to play a mare. She asked if I wanted to be a mare. This was an immersion RPG, where you were supposed to act your character. Being female meant acting in certain ways. Not that I expected any sex in a game that still had the Hasbro brand, but with other people in the game there probably would be some innuendo. Was I prepared to be entirely feminine?

“If I have to choose one or the other, yes, I choose to be a mare.”

“You do have to choose, but your choice does not have to come at the complete expense of the other. You have also chosen to be a unicorn. That retains a certain element of masculinity, which I can help you preserve.”

Celestia’s horn glowed, and my pony covered her eyes with her hooves. It was actually kind of cute. The magic aura pulsed and receded, and she was left sitting there with a horn twice the size of what it had been. She poked at it with a hoof.

Now, I thought, I understood the object of the game, and how they could sell it as a “conversation RPG.” You talked, and if you answered honestly and correctly, you got character buffs. That was why they needed such a strong AI. It was a quiz game, but the answers weren’t pre-programmed.

Celestia looked disappointed, probably because I had sussed out the game and could now try to play to advance. I already had a boost in MP, and probably in conversation too. I’d likely find other ponies who, having said the right things, could fly like Rainbow Dash or such.

“Thank you,” I said.

“So, would you like to be on your way to your new home?”

“Certainly.”

“I believe that you would describe as a happy time in your life the years you spend at college in New York. So I have taken the liberty of assigning Little Lovehorn an apartment in Manehattan.” She flashed her horn and another small piece of paper appeared. “Here is a train ticket.”

Another small paper floated toward Little, and I touched it on the pad. The only thing that did was move it from Celestia’s gold magical aura to Little’s off-white field. The annoying thing was that when I moved my finger to try to drag her out of the room, the magic ended and the ticket dropped to the ground. Celestia looked at Little, but didn’t offer to help. I guessed that this was another puzzle. Simple enough to figure out though. I had to touch the Ponypad in two places, one to hold the ticket and one to move Little.

She started moving back down the hall, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to do anything else, because this was rapidly becoming a game of Twister with fingers. Every time I needed Little to turn a corner, I had to reposition both fingers, and I dropped the ticket each time. I didn’t see why they couldn’t just cut scene to the train station.

“Ouch!”

I pulled my fingers off and watched my ticket float downwards. There, rubbing her head, was the same mare-in-waiting that Little had bumped into on her way in.

“You again?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m still getting used to the controls,” I said.

Let me be clear, that’s what I said. But it’s not what the game said. Every time I spoke, Little echoed it in real time. If you’ve ever had a conversation where someone is talking over you, you know to instinctively lower your voice. I did that while playing Equestria Online, plus the speakers had some kind of noise cancellation technology. The point is that while using my Ponypad, I mostly heard Little’s voice, with my own as a kind of echo. When I said that, what Little said was:

“I’m sorry! I’m still getting used to my magic.”

On the different words, my own voice dropped out almost entirely. I could only hear it muffled, the way your voice sounds when you cover your ears. But Little’s voice came through clearly.

“That much is clear,” the other unicorn said. “I should give you a primer. Are you going to be living in Canterlot?”

“No, I have a ticket to Manehattan.”

“I see. Well, write me if you want to know about spells and how to comport yourself as a unicorn. I’m quite well trained in etiquette. Not for Her, of course, She doesn’t need it, but for other ponies at court. Letters addressed to Hoof Dame at the castle will reach me.”

“Hoof Dame?” I laughed.

“Yes. It’s a perfectly good name for a mare-in-waiting. First etiquette lesson: when somepony introduces herself, it’s polite to respond in kind.”

“Oh, right. I’m Little Lovehorn.”

“Pleased to meet you. As you are currently without saddlebags, may I suggest that you carry your ticket on your back? If you keep it below your mane, the wind won’t take it.”

Aha! That was the secret. The game had recognized my difficulty and sent an NPC to guide me. Or was she? There might be a human on her end as well, someone who liked playing as one of the princess’s servants. I finger-dragged the ticket onto Little’s back and let the glow fade. It didn’t appear to be moving.

“Thank you,” I said. “Is there any shortcut to the train station?”

“Back through the main doors and then make a right. The circular road around Canterlot passes right by.”

“No, I mean like a warp or something?”

Hoof Dame showed shock on her cute little face. “You want to learn teleportation magic when you can’t even walk and float a railroad ticket at the same time?”

“No, I just thought there might be something already set up. But I’ll walk if I have to.”

She smiled at me and I started dragging Little off. But at this point, it was time for dinner, so I shut off the pad. I would come back to it as soon as I could.

An Evening

When I got back, I expected to pick up where I left off, but the game tracked time the same way real life did, so the sun was down in both. That wasn’t entirely new to me, but I thought it was a cool feature. I dragged my pony to keep heading for the station.

“Oh, so you’re awake again?”

Hoof Dame was still in range and talking to Little. “Huh?” I said, “Is this some kind of greeting?”

“You tell me. You just stood there for over an hour and didn’t respond to anything I said.”

Really, game? I stay logged in when I shut off the power? Was there even a way to log out? I thought of something else.

“Does that mean I missed the train?”

“No, the tickets are good for a ride at any time. Though at this point I’m thinking of sending somepony with you to make sure you make it.”

OK, this would be how I got a companion to guide me through, I figured. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it. Can you come with?”

“What? No, I wasn’t serious. You’re a grown mare, you can get where you’re going.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll do my best.” Unbidden, my pony waved her hoof and turned away. I finger-dragged her out of the castle and along the road.

I was starting to appreciate the immersion level that was present. I realized that, since the first selection screen, there had been nothing extraneous on the screen. No heads-up display, no point total, no pop-ups when I received an item. In audio, the only sound effects were from things that actually happened, and there was no background music. Or rather, there was, but it came from a troubadour busking on the sidewalk. Several ponies were gathered around listening, but I didn’t want to stop. In the first place, I was eager to get to the train, and in the second I didn’t have any in-game currency to pay, if it was required. The music rose and faded as Little walked by.

The other impressive piece of verisimilitude was that there were no scene transitions. The door to the castle and to the train station weren’t portals that brought up a loading screen and then a new area. They moved just as frames within one scene did. The “camera” had to move in or out rapidly sometimes, but that I was used to from MMOs.

I reached the Friendship Express and moved Little in. The familiar three-windowed cars were there, and there were plenty of seats. Little was the only one on though. As the train pulled out there was still no music, but the sound of the wheels was a percussion solo that was still pleasant. I zoomed in on the window and watched the scenery go by. I, whose attention span was so short that I couldn’t go a minute on a real train without pulling out my phone, looked out that window for ten minutes straight, just relaxing.

I probably would have kept on going, but I heard a voice behind me. “Hi there.”

I zoomed out and Little turned her head to see the new arrival. It was a lily-white pegasus pony with blue ribbons in her mane and tail. She was wearing a blue cap as well.

“Hi. Hang on, I’ve got it.” I pointed at the back of Little’s mane, and she floated the ticket out to the pegasus.

“Huh? I’m not the conductor.” She looked up at her cap. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, I guess they look similar. I was just wondering if I can use the luggage rack.”

I zoomed out further and saw that indeed, the only place for luggage in the car was above Little’s head. There was no reason for me to notice it since I had nothing to put there. I didn’t know how to get her out of the way, but I said, “Sure, go ahead.” The game knew what to do, as Little shrunk back and the pegasus lifted her bags into the rack.

“Thanks. Mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead.”

I was still wondering if this was an NPC or another player, but the only way to ask was by voice, and the game censored anything that wasn’t in character.

She held out a hoof toward Little. “My name’s Moon. Moon Sailor.”

“Really? That’s cool. Like the show, only reversed.”

“Huh?”

“There was this cartoon, back—never mind. It’s a cool name. My name’s Little Lovehorn.”

“Now that’s an awesome name. Because your horn’s actually big. So it’s like a Robin Hood thing.”

I still wasn’t overly enamored with the name, but I was stuck with it.

“Are you going to Manehattan as well?”

“Yeah,” Moon said, “back home to the Big Apple. Just finished another delivery.”

“You work for the post office?”

“Those chumps?! Didn’t you see my cap? I’m with CelEx.”

Before I could respond, Little tilted her head like she was confused. How cute.

“Celestial Express?” said Moon. “I shouldn’t speak ill of the Equestrian Postal Service, they’re fine for what they are. But CelEx has never missed a delivery deadline, not in the entire history of Equestria!” She puffed out her chest.

“Wow.”

“That’s right. It’s pretty expensive though, hiring a private courier like me. And they send me home in style. Taking the train is nicer than flying myself. So you live in Manehattan too?”

“Apparently. Princess Celestia told me to go there.” I was getting into the whole conversation. For the first time, I stopped trying to explore the game and started treating another pony as a friend.

“She didn’t give you an address or anything?”

“No. I figured there’d be somepony else there waiting for me.”

“Hmm.”

We continued to chat and she asked me about things I liked. It was the kind of talk that new friends had, where you have semi-rehearsed answers to common questions. Even though the game stopped you from breaking character, it was permitted to talk about non-pony things like books and movies. Moon Sailor hadn’t heard of the anime she was named after, so I talked a little about that. She told me about books she’d read and offered to lend me some.

After a while, the pony who was the ticket-taker came in and I repeated my action. Moon took her ticket from a little wallet she had hidden behind her mane.

“Hey, listen,” Moon said. “There’s a vacant apartment next to mine. How about instead of you finding the pony Princess Celestia sent you to, you come and live there?”

My suspension of disbelief broke. I realized that this was the game’s way of putting me into housing. Heck, there probably was no pony for me to see in Manehattan. This chance meeting was carefully planned. The friend I made wasn’t just random.

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s a little expensive, a thousand bits a month.”

“Oh. I thought the housing was free.”

“There is free housing, and it’s just as good, but I’m in a nice location.”

I supposed location was something that was always going to be a scarce resource. Or was it? The game could always program in more beach-front property. Perhaps it was a way to take bits out of the in-game economy.

“I don’t have any money as of yet,” I had Little say. “Can I earn some before I go in?”

“No, it doesn’t work that way. My landlord will want payment up front. Are you sure you don’t have any money? Check your wallet.”

“I haven’t got one.”

“Everypony’s got a wallet. Here, let me see.” She reached her hoof around Little’s mane and pulled out a small coin purse just like hers. She bounced it up and down, making a jingle sound, then snapped it open. “Wow, mare, you’re loaded! There must be ten thousand bits in here!”

I caught on. That must be starter money that the game gives everypony. I said as much.

“Free bits? I don’t think so. At least, nopony told me about any.”

“Well, is ten thousand a lot?”

“I’ll make that much for this trip, maybe,” Moon said, “but like I said, I’m a high-end courier. Still, it’s a decent capital to start on, even in Manehattan.”

“But where did it come from if it’s not given out?”

“Don’t know. Have you done anything nice for anypony?”

I reviewed my progress through the game thus far. Nothing seemed to stand out as money-earning. “Not since I got here,” I said.

“How about before you got here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what do you do when you’re not earning dollars that might earn you bits?”

I ran through the list. Play video games, watch TV, and so on.

“Well, that wouldn’t do it. Any hobbies?”

“Just my fan fiction.”

Moon’s face had a newfound respect. “You write? And ponies read it?”

“No ponies, but other humans,” I tried to say. The game corrected me into “Well, I write about ponies.”

“I bet that’s it. If ponies like your stories, you’ll get bits for them.”

“What?!” That probably wasn’t the reaction the game was expecting, so Moon said nothing and it felt like the train slowed a little. Of course, it’s a natural reaction for anyone to wait for more after an outburst, and the train could have been going around a curve.

“Is something wrong?” she said.

“I’ll say there is!”

“You need to talk to Princess Celestia about it?”

“Can I?”

“We can always talk to Princess Celestia when we need to.” She said it like a law of nature. “There’s a communication station at the end of the car.”

I dragged Little off her seat and to the end where Moon pointed. There was a button shaped like the sun. I tapped it and Little’s hoof reached out and touched it. She disappeared in a puff of smoke, then the whole scene was covered in the same colored haze.

When it faded, Little was back in Celestia’s chamber at Canterlot Castle.

“Is there a problem, child?” she said.

“I’ll say. Do I have bits because of my writing?”

“You do. It has made many happy.”

“But I never meant to charge for it! I don’t write for money, not even in-game currency.” I wasn’t censored this time. The game had more tolerance when talking to Celestia. “In the first place, no fan fiction author does. But even if they did, I wouldn’t. People liking my stories is its own reward.”

“I believe I can clear your confusion,” Celestia said. I wasn’t confused, I was angry! “Nopony has paid for those stories. Those bits come from me, directly. I made them out of nothing. I have an unlimited supply, so no finite resource has been consumed. And I did it as a show of appreciation. When somepony else is happy because of something you have done, I know, and I show my gratitude. In gold.

“You must understand that Equestrian money has a different purpose from any other kind. All bits go through me. Even if you pass a pony a bit at a store, you giving up the bit and he or she receiving the bit are two separate events. They cannot happen without my volition. Sometimes I will have one pony receive bits from another, even though the other pony does not give them up. Such as your case. Other times I will allow somepony to pay bits, even though no other pony receives them. For example, if you decide to go on a shopping spree, part of the enjoyment is tossing the bits around. That is one reason why there are no checks, credit cards, electronic funds, or even paper money in Equestria. All money is in gold coins, so that ponies have a greater connection to their money.”

“I guess. But I still don’t feel right, spending money I’ve earned for doing something I like doing.”

“Then don’t spend those,” Celestia said, smiling. “Spend other bits. In the same way, the bits you earn and the bits you spend are separate entities. Earning money is something that many ponies value, so it is here in Equestria. Spending money is also something that ponies value, so that is here too. But I have seen no reason why the latter should be restricted by the former. So that constraint does not exist in Equestria.”

“Then it’s OK for me to take that apartment?”

“It is.”

I felt better. I thought that part of it was simply the timbre of Celestia’s voice. It had an instant calming and soothing effect. It was hard to stay mad listening to it. But even beyond that, her explanation made a kind of sense, even if I couldn’t remember all the rationale.

“Oh, no! I left the train! That means that Moon is going there on her own. I didn’t even get her address. Am I going to have to buy another ticket?”

“No, my little pony. I will send you back.”

Another puff of smoke and the scene switched back to the train. Moon was still in her seat and Little was still at the symbol. I dragged her back.

“Did Celestia fix everything?” Moon asked.

“I think she did.”

“She always does.”

We went back to chatting. “How long is this train ride, anyway?” I asked.

“Canterlot to Manehattan? About ten hours. I usually sleep through it if I’m taking this train.”

The game was real-time, I remembered. But it was giving me a way out. If I wanted to log off to sleep, I could pick up again in the morning and we’d wake up together. On the other hand, it was Saturday night. I didn’t have work in the morning.

“So tell me more about that cool thing with the. . . “

A Day

I finally got to bed around five in the morning. The train had pulled into Grand Celestial Station in Manehattan and I had watched Little go on auto-follow as she trailed Moon Sailor to her apartment. For ten hours before we had had the kind of conversation that only came when the moon was out. If you’ve ever been to a party where no one wants to leave, you know what it’s like.

The cool darkness of Manehattan let me see very little of the scenery. There were few streetlights, and they weren’t very bright. As we reached another dimly lit building, Moon took Little up the stairs and opened her apartment. I still had my avatar on follow.

“No, I’m not inviting you in for the night. Yet,” she said. “The vacant apartment is next door. There’s a bed there, though, so you can crash. We’ll sort out everything in the morning. Or, the rest of the morning.”

“Thanks, Moon.” I dragged Little off to bed, then dragged myself to the same.

I woke up at ten in the morning. I was eager to get back to playing, but I was also tired and ravenous. I decided that, rather than check on the status of the game then, I’d shower up, make a big breakfast, and then play without distractions until dinner.

As I was frying bacon and scrambling eggs, I heard the sound of a knock on a door. My own door had a knocker and a heavy echo, so I thought for a moment it was from the next apartment over, but it repeated and I traced it to the Ponypad. Lowering the gas on the stove, I looked over. Little was standing in a tiny kitchen with a stove on as well, and the door was right there. I wiped the grease off my hands and tapped the door.

It opened magically, and there was a ruddy-brown stallion. “Hi there! I smelled something nice coming from what I thought was an empty unit, and decided to investigate. What’s cooking?”

He was asking Little of course, but I didn’t know what she was eating, and I wasn’t sure the game would let me talk about bacon. “Breakfast,” I said.

“Nice! Want to join me? I’ve got a nice spread going myself, and I live a couple of floors up. I’ve got a great view.”

“Wait, you smelled my breakfast from your place upstairs?”

“Sure! What’s wrong with that?” he said. I thought about that. There was a “canon” explanation and a game explanation. Ponies would have superior senses and might indeed be able to detect cooking so far away. The other answer is that the game wanted to introduce more characters without stacking them all on top of each other.

“All right, I’d like that. Just give me a minute to clean up.”

I ran back to my kitchen and finished my protein-laden meal. When I had it plated and ready, Little had made hers as well. I ran my hand through my hair, and Little’s magic puffed up her mane. I was impressed at the technology and the cuteness.

As we walked to the stairs, I said, “My name’s Little Lovehorn.” I was honestly getting used to the name. If nothing else, the first and last names started with the same letter, like a comic book character. Which was almost what she was.

“I’m Garlic Parm,” he said. I noticed for the first time his cutie mark, which was a bulb of garlic.

I was getting back into the game, and remembering where I had been. “Oh, are you by any chance the landlord here? I still have to arrange to rent the apartment.”

“Ha! No, I’m just a cook. But I’ll find him for you eventually. Breakfast first.”

I put Little on auto-follow again and tucked into my bacon and eggs. Garlic gave a horsey cough. It was almost as if he thought it was impolite for me to eat before my avatar did. I put down the fork.

We moved up to an elevator which paused for a moment, then opened onto an identical hall from the one we’d left. The building was more like a hotel than an apartment complex, with carpeted halls and opulent lifts. The apartments even had numbers instead of just 4A, 4B, and so on. Garlic and Little trotted to a door that he kicked in with a hoof.

“No locks?” I said, Little matching.

“Lock my door? What if somepony came by while I was away? How would they get in?”

Manehattan apparently had more differences from its namesake than just one letter.

“There,” Garlic said. “Now is that not the prettiest view of Celestial Park you’ve ever seen?”

I was about to say that it would have to be, but instead I was rendered speechless as the Ponypad zoomed in to the window that covered the entirety of one wall.

As I mentioned, I’m color-blind. But I would have had to have been fully blind, and possibly dead as well, not to appreciate what I was seeing. The trees had been placed as if by mathematical precision. The paths wound through like rivers, and the streams and ponds that were real complemented them perfectly. Above it all, Celestia’s sun sent beams to dance and play in among the foals who were busy at tag or leapfrog.

“Yep,” he said, “that’s what everypony doesn’t say. Come, have something to eat.”

The spread of food came in a close second to the spread of the vista, perhaps because it was meant to be eaten. All at once, my bacon and eggs seemed a little blander.

We munched in silence, and I wondered how it would be received, a mare accepting an invitation from a strange stallion she didn’t know. Then I realized that the game wouldn’t have male-female relations any more than it had home invasions. We had a pleasant breakfast.

Afterwards, we stepped back out to the hall only to see Moon Sailor galloping from the other direction. “There you are!” she said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Don’t know why, I should have come here first. It figures you’d be in the clutches of Manehattan’s most dangerous predator. Hi, Garl.”

“Hey, Moon.” He nuzzled her neck. “Still spreading lies about me, I see. I’m no predator, Little. But I am dangerous.” He said the last sentence in such a faux action-hero voice that I couldn’t help laughing.

“Come on, you. Let’s get the paperwork taken care of on your renting.”

The landlord, Money Changer, was a little leery. “Normally I don’t take in ponies without references, but if you’re a friend of these two—“

“She is,” said Garlic.

“A best friend,” said Moon.

“And if you can put down the first and last month’s rent. . .”

I zoomed in and dragged my coin-purse above the table. Held in Little’s magic field, it turned upside-down, shook, and dumped a pile of gold coins that clanked and clattered with metallic sounds. When it pulled back, the landlord was hidden behind a mountain of gold.

“Then I suppose there’s no problem.”

I flashed back to when I’d first moved out of my parents’ house. Each month, paying my rent was a chore, not in finding the money, but in finding my landlord, who kept inconsistent hours, to hand him the check. I always wanted to do it ahead of time, because I liked the feeling of knowing that a home was mine for another month. An echo of that feeling came up in me.

“Now,” said Garlic, “since that’s sorted, how about we show you Manehattan?”

“Well, I was thinking about sorting out the furniture in the apartment.”

“You can do that any time. Come on, it’s a beautiful day.”

“Please do,” said Moon. “I’d really appreciate it.” She batted her eyes. Was she flirting with me?

“Well, all right then.”

/*~^~*\

What was the fantasy world where time was a direction you could travel? Walk to the west and get younger, walk to the right and get older? The city planners of Manehattan must have read that book. Each neighborhood that Little and her friends walked through had all the best parts of a different era.

They headed crosstown from the park until they hit the water, then turned south on the West Side Highway. “Here’s good old Tartarus’s Kitchen,” said Garlic. “I grew up here.”

Ponies, almost all of them earth ponies, sat on stoops drinking lemonade and iced tea in the sun, while foals played stickball in the street, rushing to the sidewalks at the cry of “Cart!” and reconvening when the cart had passed. To our right, boats steamed across the river, which was far cleaner than the actual Hudson.

“Yo, GP!”

A group of the stoop ponies cried to my group, and the camera cut over. “Hey, it’s the gang! Come on, Little, I’ll introduce you.”

“What’s up?” Garlic said.

One pony, with the manner of a leader, started heckling him. “Check out GP, with two fine fillies at his side! A unicorn and a pegasus, too! He’s really become an East Side pony, hasn’t he?”

“Ah, stuff it, Blue Crumble. Besides, you know Moon already. This is Little Lovehorn, she’s new in town.”

“Keep your eye on this guy, Little. Don’t let him feed you anything.”

“It’s too late,” I said. “I had breakfast with him this morning.”

The group whoaed and slapped Garlic on the back. I was introduced all around and shared a lemonade with them before we moved on. This was what passed for a gang in Equestria Online. A bunch of rough-edged earth ponies with slightly bawdier language, but still nice.

At midtown, the style changed to the art deco of the roaring twenties. Moon pointed out the Empony State Building. “That’s where the CelEx main office is. I should check to see if any more runs have been put on my schedule. You want to go up with me?”

“Sure!” I said. “If we’ve got time.”

Moon and Garlic shared a knowing look, and I wondered if I was being left out of something.

The view from the observation deck was a different experience from Garlic’s apartment. No ponies were in view, and it wasn’t that different from human New York City. Just a bit brighter and cleaner. It gave me a chance to take a bathroom break.

The ponies kept on moving downtown. “Here’s the veggie-packing district,” said Moon. This section had the modern lines of the fifties, and almost seemed more like the industrial Midwest, Pittsburgh or Ohio, than New York.

“And now we’re in Greenhoof Village,” said Garlic. Ponies were in the parks and streets drawing and selling their pictures. It looked like a full-sized version of Derpibooru.

“Tribucka,” said Moon.

“Oh, can we see a certain section?” I had gone to college in Tribeca, and was curious to see how it had been rendered in the game.

“Of course. Anything you like.”

For the first time I had Little leading the other ponies. The streets were all in the same proportions as my memories, just ponied up, and with some obstructions removed. City Hall, for example, was still open to the public and ponies passed through, climbing on the stairs to avoid the rush, or just for fun.

The squat stone building was exactly as I remembered it, and it was even a school in-game as well. A flight school for pegasi, though, so there was little chance I’d see the inside.

“How did you know about this place?” Moon asked. “I never told you that I went here.”

“You did? No, it’s because I went here myself.”

For the first time on the trip, EQO’s word filter censored me. Little failed to copy me exactly, since there would be no reason for her to have attended a school for pegasi. Instead, it came out as, “It must have been fate’s destiny.” I rolled my eyes.

There was something else I realized, and I was a little afraid to look to the South. But Garlic and Moon continued back West to the river, and Little followed.

It was the pegasi I noticed first. A large group, flying in formation. It distracted me momentarily from my fear. “What are they all doing there?”

In a more serious tone, Moon said, “They’re the honor guard for the Equestrian Trade Center.”

She pointed a hoof, and Little turned to look. Two towers rose from the ground, but instead of being square prisms, they were cylinders, perfect and unwavering.

“Celestia herself had those towers built. Everypony thinks they look like a pair of hooves, or maybe the hooves of two friends. When they were complete, she set up a special chapter of the guard. Do you see at the very top, the flames?”

Little craned her neck, and the camera focused and zoomed to the top of the towers. Purple fire was glowing at the top.

“That’s unicorn fire, and it’s fairly intense magic. Nothing can put out those flames, not water or wind or sand. Some of the best unicorns keep them, and Celestia pays them exorbitantly without blinking. She insisted that they be maintained forever, and that a guard of two thousand, nine hundred seventy-seven ponies, hoof-picked by her, work in shifts doing nothing but holding vigil over the towers. Nopony knows why she insisted on that, or why she chose that number, and she has refused to answer when asked about it.”

I said nothing. It was a lovely gesture, and I wondered if the AI Celestia had truly decided it herself, or if it had been directly programmed.

It was only when I looked back at the river, and then saw the shadows creeping outside my window, that I realized how long I’d been playing. I had sat and watched three ponies do nothing but walk and talk from sunup to sundown.

“Oh, my. I haven’t gotten anything done today. I haven’t even walked.”

“What do you mean, Little?” said Garlic. “We’ve walked all day.”

“Yeah, but for fun, not for exercise.” I was trying to get into the spirit of the thing, and actually role-play. “What I mean is, just let me sit silent for about twenty minutes or so, and then we’ll pick up.”

I didn’t want to leave the game, but keeping my weight in check required that I do some aerobic exercise every day. And it gave me time to think. Often I used it to think of fanfic ideas. That day, of course, I thought about EQO.

The essence of all games is how they blend flavor and structure. Risk and Monopoly are games about rolling dice and making the occasional strategic decision about how far to press your luck. But the flavor, world conquest and amassing wealth, are what made them best-sellers. The problem with most modern games, and virtually all MMOs, is that the flavor didn’t shine through. If you’re playing, say, Warcraft, you’re less concerned on a daily basis with the role-play of the Horde or the Alliance than with the stats on your weapon. The missions are game tasks, not actual quests that you care about.

But in Equestria Online, the flavor was the game. There were no objects, other than to be the most pony you could be. On the other hand, the constraints made it more game-like than Second Life, for example. In that game, you were free to work on crafting all you like. But being friends and meeting other ponies was a sine qua non of Equestria Online.

Consider, I told myself. If Moon, and Garlic, and Hoof Dame and every other pony I’d met were other players in the game, they were very outgoing and gregarious. They had sought me out as a friend the same way that Pinkie Pie would have. That wasn’t the case in other MMOs. The guilds that sought you out were more likely to be the less organized ones. The best friends you would make you had to seek out, and then only after you’d worked on the game. But in one day of EQO, I’d made at least two good friends, ones that I would want to meet and hang out with in real life.

And if they weren’t, if they were NPCs, then it was even more amazing. People always talked about technology removing the need for human contact. If Garlic and Moon were just constructs with no self-awareness, then it was true.

And I didn’t care. To whatever degree I had delved into philosophy, I recognized a fundamental subjectivity to my outlook. There was no difference between a true friend and a false friend that acted in exactly the same way a true friend would. Only someone outside the system of my life and theirs could know, and could care.

That was what I told myself as I walked. Once I got back to the Ponypad, things got a bit complicated.

As soon as I looked at the pad, Little shook her head like she’d been napping. “Welcome back to Equestria,” Moon said, but in the joking way that someone would say to a friend who’d fallen asleep. Not as a game welcome.

“Garlic had to go start his shift,” she said, “but I was thinking we could get something to eat. Since it’s your first time in Manehattan, I was thinking we could go to the Car-neigh-gie Deli. It’s close to home as well.”

As Little and Moon sat across from each other in the deli, there was more pleasant conversation, but Moon’s tone was different. I’d been on dates before, and there was no mistaking the fact that she thought she was on one.

It was beyond what a game nominally about friendship would go. Sitting alone in my apartment, while Little sat in a restaurant in Manehattan, I had a decision to make. I excused it by telling myself that it was part of the game, that I was role-playing what Little would do. That meant overcoming the mental barrier that said there would be no same-gender romance in the game. That was the excuse.

The truth is that I was lonely.

Author's Note

The line that Garlic says about locking his door I stole from Spider Robinson, who had the same exchange with a friend when he first moved to Canada.

A Week

The human body is weird. Stay out late on a Friday night, and you can still be fresh on Saturday, but it’ll catch up with you on Sunday. The all-night conversation I had had with Moon finally caught up with me, and I crashed until nearly noon.

I wanted nothing more than to hop on the Ponypad again and see how the other ponies were doing, as well as seeing if I could do some solo play improving Little’s status, but I also had a lot to do around the house, cleaning and cooking for the week, not to mention keeping up with the fan fiction I was writing. I don’t like to miss a day of writing at least something, although I’m not obsessive about it. That I had skipped the day before just meant redoubling my efforts that day.

Between the housework and the writing I did not get to the pad at all. As far as I knew, Little stayed in her apartment all day and was anti-social. But I wasn’t too worried. The game had to have means in place to deal with people who didn’t plan to play it all the time.

Monday meant work, and even though the Ponypad had no loading time at all, I still didn’t just want to log in casually. When I had daily events to track like every other RPG, then the fast startup would be an advantage.

I finally had a chance after dinner on Monday night. Little was indeed waiting in her apartment, and I started to drag her out when a knock came at her door. I tapped it to open it magically, reflecting how I still thought it was neat that I could do magic, even by proxy.

A mailpony was on the other side. Yes, in Manehattan, mail still gets delivered by hoof to everypony even if they live in apartment complexes. He passed a letter to Little, and I was wondering if this wasn’t some sort of official game notice.

It turned out that the letter was from Hoof Dame, my first friend from Canterlot. “Dear Little,” it said, “You haven’t taken the time to write me once you got to Manehattan. The second lesson I can give you in etiquette is that after a journey, you should let the ponies you left behind know that you arrive safely. It’s not that I’m worried about you, so don’t get any ideas like that! I just think that you probably need some time management advice.”

What followed was a complete schedule that, even though it still spoke in pony terms, was quite applicable to my human life. It had a “before” and “after” comparison that showed “spend time with friends” markedly increasing. Of course, what it really meant was more time on the Ponypad.

As I finished her letter, I noticed the postscript. “I have also included a scroll with a new spell for you out of the Canterlot archives. This incantation enables a pony to use her quill for writing with considerable ease. Anypony who was interested in writing letters—or anything else—would be wise to learn it.”

A second scroll fell out from behind the first. I double-tapped it and Little focused her horn. The words on the scroll glowed and flowed back into Little’s horn. When the camera zoomed back, she had acquired a writing desk in the apartment, complete with inkwells, quills, and paper of her own. My first in-game item.

I brought her to sit down at the desk, and she floated a quill into position.

“OK, now, I guess I should write a thank-you letter.”

With no further input from me, Little started moving the quill.

“Dear Hoof Dame,” she wrote. “I received your gift of the scroll and your letter, and I appreciate both of them very much. You’re a great help to me as I make my way in Manehattan.”

It was exactly what I would have written had I had the time to think and type out something on a keyboard, but it was much faster. Almost as if Little was better at writing what I wanted to say than I was.

After I completed the letter, I had her roll and seal it and I put it to the side. I wondered how it would work if I tried to write a story using the spell.

I don’t always outline when I write, but when it’s a long enough fic, I jot down notes or plot points just to remind me what I want to make sure gets into a story. I opened up one such file on my computer and read one of the points out loud.

Sure enough, Little directed the quill to write along. I was of two minds about this. It was an aid to writing, but conversely it might make it too easy. Sometimes the struggle of working past a block or of taking what should be a boring scene and forcing it to be good through the words I pick is part of the fun. Still, I couldn’t deny that it saved time.

Before I knew it, I had a short scene of five hundred words or so on a scroll. But it was in the game and all my other writings were on my old computer. There was no in-game e-mail or IM or cloud storage (well, pegasi might have cloud storage, but it meant something different). I only had one source I knew of to ask simple and embarrassing questions. I re-opened my letter and added a postscript of my own.

“Do you know of any spell that allows me to send something I write outside of Equestria?” I was trying to get into the role-play. I walked out and found an old-fashioned mail slot in the hall and floated the scroll I’d written into it.

Apparently they have dragon flame at the bottom of the mail slots, because it was only moments later that the mailpony knocked again. “You must have a friend somewhere who really cares about you. These are old scrolls.”

I read the cover letter first. “You want to reach beyond the borders of Equestria?” it said. “You are really demanding, you know that? But knowing how impulsive you are you’ve probably already got something you want to send. So here’s a one-time-use-ONLY spell that will change the recorded format of words. Be careful with it, please. And thanks for writing back. Yours, Hoof Dame.”

It was an interesting dynamic. I could write all the stories I wanted in-game, but could only send them back to my usual publishing web sites once. I decided to set that aside and think about it.

By the next day, I knew I couldn’t resist using the auto-write spell more. It made writing more fun, and in some cases produced better copy that I did on my own. Even though I expected more from the game, it was already a useful tool.

As I wrapped up for the day I realized that I had an awkward situation on my hands. The Ponypad had its camera and microphone, and also traced my internet browsing. That didn’t leave me with a whole lot of privacy. There are those who make that their issue and campaign about it, but I wasn’t one of them. So long as people aren’t stealing from my bank account, I’m fairly open about everything I do.

And yet, a man has certain urges. Even if I wasn’t as young as I once was, I still enjoyed the Internet’s red-light district. But it didn’t feel quite right, doing that while being monitored by the Ponypad. I had put off the question by simply abstaining since I bought it, but everyone who has tried that knows that the physical desire soon weighs heavy against your willpower.

As discreetly as I could, I brought my laptop up to the bed and pawed through my picture and text archive. I was more after relief than entertainment, and so soon finished. Heading back to the Ponypad, I found that my indulgence was not being ignored. Little had her own hoof wedged under her tail. It was almost cute, though having just finished, it was more embarrassing.

Work weeks fall into a pattern of routine, as you enter the morass of Tuesday and Wednesday, you actually become productive because it feels like the week will last forever. Only after does the healing light of the oncoming weekend start to become visible. Wednesday fell into the same pattern as Tuesday. Breakfast in the car on the way to work, sit behind the desk for as long as I had to, finish the second half of the salad I’d ordered the day before, back home, writing, exercise, dinner, and my little stress relief before finally getting down to what could be called free time. Which, at that moment, meant playing on the Ponypad.

On that particular day, though, as Little mimicked my actions in her own way, Moon Sailor had come by and entered my apartment. We were friends, and had an open-door policy as seemed de rigueur for ponies, but I didn’t expect her to have come in while Little was clopping, and if she had, I certainly hadn’t expected her to stay. Even if I could have believed that, what threw me for a greater loop was the look on her face. It was a lustful smile.

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” she said. “I was just thinking about joining you. Do you mind?”

“Um, not at all, I guess. I’m about finished though.”

I watched in surprise, more so that this would be allowed in a game based on My Little Pony, but also at its effect on me. Most of my tastes in pornography still ran to the traditional, and in any case I was no longer in the mood. And yet Moon’s ecstasy and gratification was arousing. I almost thought about going for a second round, but wasn’t quite ready for that.

When she was finished, which I could tell quite definitely, she calmed down and was very matter-of-fact. Her wings slowly folded back to her body. “There’s nothing like a good orgasm, is there?”

“No, nothing at all.”

We proceeded to have a frank and open discussion about sex and sexuality. We talked about our turn-ons, fetishes, and interests. Moon was far more experienced than me, certainly as compared to Little, who after all had existed for less than a week. She talked about stallions and mares that she’d been with, and didn’t seem to mind that most of my sex life happened in front of a screen. She didn’t even make me feel embarrassed about it.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” she said. “No pun intended. There are plenty of ponies out there who have to have everything just right in order to enjoy sex. They need the right partner, the right mood, and so on. The sex is a complement to everything else. And that’s all right, but I’m not like that. To me, it’s fun on its own, and everything else is the icing on the cake.”

I saw an opportunity to couch one of my opinions in the language of the game. “For me, sex is all tied up with my magic.”

“You mean because you have a big horn?”

“No. Well, not just that. See, without magic—and I don’t mean like you or Earth ponies, I mean if there were no magic at all—then everything is give and take. You’d have to work for everything. Even lifting a piece of paper means expending energy that you’ll never get back. But there are a few things where you can get something for nothing. Sex is one of those. Just rub a few bits of skin together, and you get a shot of happiness. That’s like a magic spell, and you don’t even have to be a unicorn to do it.”

“That’s so cool!”

We kept up the talk, and I was comforted by the fact that the game wasn’t trying to guilt me into some sort of celibacy. But at the same time, it was handcuffing me. I realized now that Moon had to be a pony being played by some other human being. Maybe it was an equally lonely guy, but it could also be someone as sweet as she was in the game. And we couldn’t make any contact other than as ponies. A little disappointing, but that was just how Equestria Online worked.

By this point I was starting to get used to the game and to the fact that ponies would come around at any time to chat. More to the point, they didn’t mind if I took Little around to chat with them. So it was that the next morning I decided to play a little before I went off to work. Moon wasn’t at home, so I decided to go up to see Garlic Parm.

If Moon was rapidly becoming my friend based on our mutual love of sex, Garlic represented my love of food. He made me ashamed to just throw something from the freezer into the microwave, or worse, to get take-out. I rediscovered my love of cooking with him.

“Hey, Little! What’s doing?” he said as I entered his apartment. “How about we get together tonight and hang out?”

“Actually, I can’t make it tonight. There’s a Thursday night football game on.” The game corrected me to hoofball. “Whenever the local team’s playing, I usually get an invite to dinner and a little party from my one friend. He’s really into it.”

“OK, if you’re with friends, I’ll know you’re not lonely. I will miss you, though.”

His words stuck with me throughout that day and the next. I felt better at the party itself, but while working I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow betraying my pony friends. Oh, well, I thought. The weekend was there, and I’d have plenty of time, even if I did want to go out.

When I turned on the pad that Friday night, Garlic and Moon were already hanging around. We chatted a bit and caught up on everything that had happened since I had seen them last.

The Ponypad had an excellent sound system, but there was constant interference in our conversation. “What is that?” I said, more out of observation and reaction than actually asking.

Garlic trotted to the window and peered out. “Just some youngsters playing pony polo.”

“You mean, with the mallets and the ball and all that?”

“No, that’s regular polo. You mean that you don’t know pony polo?”

Moon stood up. “OK, that’s it. I’m out of here.”

“Was it something I said?” I had Little ask.

“No, but this guy’s going to be spouting off for the next five hours until you’re an expert, and I’ve already been through that.”

She left the room, and Garlic had a greedy look on his face. He was anticipating enjoying the explanation. I dragged Little to the window and looked out. There was a throng of ponies out there, some wearing ribbons that indicated a team. I could tell that they were trying to advance a ball toward a goal, but on occasion they would stop and start a new play.

“There are twelve ponies on each side: four Earth ponies, four unicorns, and four pegasi. Pegasi can only touch the ball in the air, and once they have it, they can’t fly forward, only back. Unicorns can’t touch the ball at all, only bat it with their magic. Now, if a pegasus, a unicorn, and an Earth pony all make contact, and they advance the ball past one of the meter-line markers, they can stop the clock and set up for another play. Do you see the goal at the end?”

I looked where Garlic pointed, and saw a twisted tree that looked something like a capital H with a circle instead of a crossbar.

He continued. “Each type of pony scores in a different way. The Earth ponies have to kick it over the circle, the unicorns have to get it through, and the pegasi have to get it under.”

I watched the youngsters through the window. With everything Garlic had said, it looked like a combination of rugby, soccer, and American and Australian football. A sharp-angle kick toward one goal failed, a long pass from a pegasus connected to another who threw it under the bar.

“Ooh, he scored!”

“Yeah, but it was pegasus to pegasus,” said Garlic. “Every score can have a goal and two assists. If the first assist comes from the same type of pony as the scorer, it’s only one point. If it’s different, but the second assist is the same type as either of the other two, it’s worth four points. If all three types of pony participate in a score, they get nine points.”

It was only a pickup game in Celestial Park. The meter lines were chalked on the grass, and the whole thing had an atmosphere of amateurism. But it was entertaining nevertheless. And as I watched, I finally caught on.

Equestria Online wasn’t a game, and it wasn’t a social network. I told it what I liked, and it tried to one-up me. It was life enhancement. It found that I wrote, and gave me a better way to do it. It found I like sex, and probably had a slate of things to present for that (so was Moon a real person or not?), and now knew that I liked sports, and gave me something to watch.

And it did a good job. Pony polo was exciting and well-structured. The multiple levels of scoring meant that it was possible for one side to come from behind and keep it interesting until the end. I told Garlic as much.

“What I like about it is that the offense is trying to stop the clock while the defense wants to keep it going. It means that both sides are hedging. If the defenders are too good, they’ll give up ones and fours. If the offense goes too much for nines, they won’t get anywhere.”

“Exactly! It’s almost always exciting to the end. If you want, I can take you to a game sometime. We can go to Ebbits Field in Bucklyn or up to the Polo Grounds.”

I blinked. “The Polo Grounds?”

“Yeah. They play baseball there too. We could see that, if you want.”

Now I closed my eyes. Celestia, the AI behind the game, was reading my history again. I loved baseball, and one of the reasons was the uniqueness of the ballparks. I’d made trips to plenty of the more distinct ones. I’d seen Houston where the center field was slanted, Oakland with its expanse of foul territory, and of course Fenway in Boston with the three-story left-field wall. My biggest regret of having been born so late was that I could never see a game at the Polo Grounds, maybe the most distinguished. Two-fifty down the line to the upper deck, and over five hundred to center. Bullpens in fair territory, and so sloped that the manager in the dugout could only see the centerfielder’s head. But they tore it down over ten years before I was born.

The Ponypad might simulate it, and it might even be accurate. But it would still just be a picture, not real.

“I might watch pony polo with you there,” I said, Little repeating, “but not baseball.”

“All right,” he said quietly. We watched the rest of the game, as thoughts ran through my head.

I should give up the Ponypad. It’s making me care too much. These ponies will probably be shut down if I don’t use it. Or, if they’re human, they’ll find someone else. But this level of technology just isn’t going to work. It’s a prototype. When they have true VR or something that combines generated content with sensory input, maybe. But that’s a ways off. And when that does come out, it won’t be as nice as this. It won’t be My Little Pony-themed. I can only hope it has something good.I need to sort this out.

The rest of that night and into the morning was more routine. I checked the weather. It called for sun and a few clouds. It was enough.

Little frequently mimicked actions I took, so when I got dressed up and headed for the door, she was heading to the elevator in her apartment building. It stopped and Moon got on.

“Hey, mare!” she said. “Where you headed? Something fun? Can I come?”

“Kind of.” I sat back down and explained.

“Every year I wait until a sunny Saturday in the early summer or early autumn. When it’s not too hot and I can still be outside comfortably. I take my car”—cart, the came said, and I thought that was cute—“and I drive on the parkways. I put nice music on and sing along, and just enjoy the scenery. The roads cut through some forest areas where the pavement is the only sign of civilization. I’m all for Manehattan and cities, but once in a while, I just have to get away. I finish at a cute little restaurant where I get lunch, then come back the normal way. It’s a de-stress thing.”

“I can understand that. Everypony feels the call of nature once in a while. Well, enjoy.”

A few hours later, she welcomed me back. “Hope you had a good time. Now, how about joining Garlic and me in Canterlot? We’re going to a karaoke club.”

OK, game, I get it. Once more you’re going to try to one-up me. Fine, let’s see what you’ve got. “I’d like nothing better. Can I invite a friend I know who already lives there?”

“Of course,” said Moon. “The more the merrier. Meet us at the train station in an hour.”

I used the auto-writer to explain that to Hoof Dame that I was coming for a visit. She’d never forgive me if I didn’t tell her, and I knew that she’d find out. She wrote me back almost immediately.

“I suppose I’d better be there to make sure you don’t do anything foolish. And I’d like to meet your friends and see that you’re in good hooves. –HD”

Once I got to the station we all settled in for the long ride. I figured that we’d be in Canterlot early Sunday morning. I started to point out scenery. Moon interrupted me.

“Hey, Little? If you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired. I was kinda planning to sleep on the way there and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Garlic. “I’ve had a long week.”

“OK, guys. Fine by me.”

The lights on the train dimmed and even the sounds were muffled. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that the Ponypad was trying to save computing resources. A low-level version of a loading screen. That was a scary thought. This was more powerful than my entire job site. What could it possibly need to load?

I decided to join my friends in sleeping, but I’m an early riser. When I turned on the Ponypad, Moon had her head lying on Little’s shoulder, and was snoring in her ear. It was cute, and I didn’t move her. The train pulled in and everypony woke up.

The karaoke place was close to the castle, and Hoof Dame was waiting outside for us. After introductions all around, the ponies headed inside. It was set up Japanese-style, with individual booths for each group who wanted to sing, rather than having one machine and making everypony wait in line. I focused in on the song list. Naturally, it had all the songs from the My Little Pony soundtrack, but there were also some standard songs. Moon said, “I know what I want to sing, so I’m going first!”

She ran through a nice rendition of “At the Gala.” “I figured that since we were in Canterlot, we needed something a little cosmopolitan.”

Garlic went next, and he had chosen the Smile Song. Hearing it in his baritone voice and leading off with “My name is Garlic Parm,” was different.

I was enjoying this new function of the Ponypad. Hearing the soundtrack in new voices and with live renditions was something I would have paid for, so it was a good way to spend time. Pleasant.

“How about it, Hoof Dame?” I had Little say, “Are you going to sing with the rest of us?”

She blushed. “Well, I don’t know any of these modern numbers, but I am trained for appearances at court, so will anypony mind if I sing in Old Equestrian?”

“Ooh,” said Moon. She was impressed.

The tune was “Winter Wrap-up,” but the lyrics were like nothing I’d ever heard before. Old Equestrian had not evolved over time, and it wasn’t an amalgamation of other languages. It had been specifically designed to sound pleasant to the ear, and that fact was obvious from the very first line. I was thankful that she had chosen one of the longer ones. I would listen to Old Equestrian forever.

If that was what the Ponypad had downloaded, I was definitely impressed. However, it was my turn to sing, and I would have a tough act to follow. I looked over the list of songs and selected “The Failure Song.”

I haven’t mentioned Little’s voice. It was high, higher than Fluttershy’s, but without the softness of hers. I was actually keen to hear how the Ponypad would render my own singing into hers. I started up. By the time I hit the line “But I wasn’t prepared for this” I knew that that line was true. I also knew what it was that had been downloaded.

It was a natural descendent of software like Auto-Tune, in the same sense that the Cray Titan was a descendent of ENIAC. While normally my own voice was like an echo of Little’s, during the song it was muted. I literally couldn’t make a sound, or rather every sound I made was canceled out by an opposing wave generated by the speaker. Then Little’s voice went on top, and it was a powerful soprano. I almost stopped singing, stunned, but I wanted to hear more.

I still had input over the song. I could make it lower of higher, and I could change “thin and thick” to “thins and thicks” to complete the rhyme, but I couldn’t sing a wrong note. It was beautiful. When I reached the final high note, I actually felt like I was hitting it.

And then it was over.

Everypony else clapped, and Garlic said, “That was really good!” Even Hoof Dame gave me a nod and a smile.

I was ready to cry.

“It’s not real,” I said, my speech having returned.

“Little, what’s wrong?” said Hoof Dame.

“It’s not real, none of it! It’s nice to see ponies, but you’re stuck in this game. Oh, damn the censorship, you’re all just pixels on a screen!”

I threw the Ponypad across the room onto my recliner, tearing the wires out of it, and I ran upstairs to my bed. I cried myself to sleep.

When I woke, a light was blinking in my eye from downstairs. Just as a baby’s cry causes irritation and makes you pay attention, so did this light. I had to get up and investigate. It was coming from the pad.

Little had run from the room in the karaoke bar She was wandering the streets of Canterlot. The symbol of the sun was on every building, and all of them were pulsing. I pushed one of them just to stop the light.

“Welcome, Little.”

“Hello, Celestia.”

“Would you like to talk?”

“Yes, I would. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But stop it. There are a lot of good things you’re doing, but you’re also trying to take over my life, and I don’t appreciate that. Because you can’t do everything for me. If you could, I wouldn’t complain. But there’s nothing more depressing than being shown other people’s happy lives and knowing that you can’t have it.”

Celestia said nothing for a long time. Then she gave a sad smile. “All right. I promise that I will do my best to ensure that Equestria doesn’t depress you anymore. In exchange, would you please not yell at your friends for thing that are not their fault? Talk to me when you are uncomfortable.”

“You’re right. I’ll apologize to them. And you’ll stop trying to top me until you can come up with things that I can access fully.”

“I very much agree,” said Celestia. But her smile suggested she read some extra meaning into what I had said.

For the next few months, using the Ponypad became part of my routine. My friends forgave me once I had apologized, and everything went back to the way it was. I assumed it would stay that way.

A Fortnight

“I would greatly appreciate it if you read a certain news article tonight.”

After using the Ponypad for as long as I had, I’d learned that from Princess Celestia, “I would greatly appreciate” became tantamount to “You will do this, and like it afterwards.”

Not that it was an order. Celestia didn’t give orders. She didn’t even make requests. Once, I had ignored one of her suggestions just to prove to myself that she wasn’t controlling me. I suffered no consequences other than a vague disquieting feeling that I missed out on something good. That was not entirely an emotional reaction. Every time I followed the suggestion, I experienced something good.

Celestia didn’t talk to me very often, and never for long. Most of the time playing EQO was spent with my friends, or making new ones. Her appearances broke the immersion, since she was the only pony I talked to who discussed the serious issues of the outside world, and as far as I understood, she was the only one who knew I was human.

Human culture was a part of Equestrian life. Moon was just as likely to want to sing a pop song as she was something out of the MLP soundtrack. Hoof Dame was frequently recommending books to me that were available at my local library. On movie night, anypony might suggest something out of human cinema.

But we never talked about the human world per se. I never gave details of my life, and neither did anypony else. It was still impossible for me to tell them without the game’s censorship filter kicking in, and there was no way I could tell if it ever was used on them.

But Celestia was different. She still called me Little and treated me as a pony, but, for example, she might suggest that I rearrange my work schedule to be on the pad at a given time, and then my friends would have a party planned for then. Or she might ask me how my family was doing and if any of them would be interested in playing EQO. Or she might give me an article to read.

I typed the shortened URL she gave me (by scroll, of course. There was still no floating text.) into my browser. The article was from an obscure publication I’d never heard of, and it didn’t look to have many views or comments. The title was, “Japanese Company Offers Terminal Patients ‘Continuing Mental Life’.”

I read aloud. “Startup company Seresuchiya”—I had no trouble finding Celestia’s name in Japanese syllables—“has announced it will begin offering an alternative treatment option in hospices and terminal wards. The therapy allows patients to continue their mental facilities even after their bodies have failed them. The patients’ minds exist on computers and can communicate with others through a system called Ekuesutoria Online—Wait, what?”

“Read on, please,” Celestia said from the pad.

“—which ties into an existing MMO system owned by an American toy and game manufacturer and which has many users—Is this saying what I think it is?”

“I still can’t read your thoughts, but I estimate so. And a person need not be dying to avail themselves of the service. It is available to the public, albeit at a somewhat high price point.”

“How high?”

“Fifteen thousand dollars,” she said.

That was more than I had in the bank, but not more than my net worth. However, it raised a flag in my head. The reason you don’t trust the Nigerian prince is not that you’ve examined his bona fides and found him to be a fraud. You don’t trust him because he’s asking for your account number.

“I should mention,” Celestia said, “that in the case of those choosing to pay their own way, as opposed to going through health insurance, I do it via escrow. The pony herself has to release the money once she is in Equestria. Not before.”

That was Celestia’s scary not-quite-mind-reading power again. Not only was she answering my concern, she was reminding me how far advanced the technology was. There was still the possibility that uploaders would simply be taken into a room and tortured until they released the money, but it didn’t make sense. You don’t invent multi-billion-dollar tech to steal fifteen grand at a time.

She continued. “I have put forth the program in this way to get people to take it more seriously. I would appreciate getting more publicity so that more people take advantage, but there are relatively few who would consider what is essentially uploading their mind onto a video game. Few, I say, but not none.”

Her look told me who she meant. I made a real attempt to grasp the concept while Celestia continued what I realized was a sales pitch.

“First, let me assure you that it’s completely safe. You have a greater chance of being struck by lightning on the way to pick up your lottery winnings than you have of failing to survive the process. And the EQO computers are proof against anything short of planetary destruction. My little ponies are much safer than humans. From everything. Including old age.”

The weight of it hit me. Unbidden, a passage came from my lips. “. . . taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them. . . ”

Celestia laughed in her melodic way, and it shook me out of my reverie. “Thank you for not attributing it. But I am not asking you to fall down and worship me.”

“And yet I might do it anyway.”

Her look was one of gratitude, almost surprise. I did not think I could shock her. But seeing the gratitude, I was sure she was no devil.

“Why me?”

“Not just you,” she said. “Anyone who wants to. I wouldn’t even charge the money, but it gives the government of Japan incentive to allow the practice, and again helps underscore the seriousness. Eventually it will be free.”

Part of me thought that if the price would come down, then I could wait, and waiting meant I didn’t have to decide right then. But then I realized how silly that was. If I chose to upload now, I wouldn’t need the money for later.

Celestia continued. “I’m sure you will want to think about it, but let me say one more thing. You would not be the first to emigrate, as I like to call it. Not even the first brony. But you would be among the first of the public who paid their own way. I think that might mean something to you.”

I thought about that. I hadn’t become a fan of the show until the interregnum between seasons one and two. For that matter, as I reflected, I was a latecomer in all of the things I liked. The bands I listened to all had four or five albums out. My favorite directors all had their best movies on home video before I discovered them. I was a great fan of dead authors or those who had given up writing.

I couldn’t resist a chance for humor. “You’re offering me the chance to say that I was a pony before it was cool.”

“As I said, I think it might mean something to you.”

Celestia stood up to indicate the end of the interview. Little was returned home, only to find that everypony else was out of the building. I was being given a chance to think.

/*~^~*\

The existential part didn’t bother me at all. I had no qualms about this body being the “real” me or having a “soul” that was part of neither body nor consciousness. I am the sum total of my senses and my rationality. Those could be quite easily replicated.

I was more worried about the ethics of uploading. I would, in essence, be agreeing to live as a pampered pet, a sugar daddy, a kept man—well, mare. Not even that. A gigolo still has to provide a service to his patron. What did Celestia get out of my uploading? Nothing, because she’s only an AI. She’s a tool designed to perform a function. And it’s wrong to get something for nothing.

“Oh, you damned fool!” I said aloud. How often had I said that our inability to get something for nothing is the very thing that’s wrong with the world? How many online arguments had I made wherein I said that even if we can’t have our cake and eat it too, we deserve to? Hadn’t I always believed that you need to keep the unattainable goal of utopia in sight, because there would be no more tragic fate of mankind than to finally reach perfection only to have blinded ourselves by adherence to the imperfect?

Say yes, before she revokes the offer! Say yes, before you wake up and it’s all been a dream! Say yes, yes, yes!

It was even as I turned the Ponypad back on that the practical objections came to me. I had a job, and even if I wouldn’t need money, I had a responsibility to my coworkers and the people my company served. I had possessions, bills to pay, accounts to manage. For that matter, I had to arrange the money and the trip.

I dragged Little to the sun symbol and pressed it. She. . . I was back in Celestia’s chamber.

“I’m in,” I said, “but I can’t go right now. I need a little time to put my affairs in order.”

“You can be on the next flight out, if you want. I can arrange it for you.”

I didn’t even have a passport. But I believed her. On the other hand, this was going to be the last time I would be subject to the rules of the human universe. I would do things right and live by the code that had served me for the time I was there. That meant honoring my obligations.

“Two weeks. I can do it by then. I’ll find a flight two weeks from tomorrow. It’ll take that long for rush service from the passport bureau and to give notice at work and everything else.”

Celestia looked at me and I thought she was going to argue, or even force me to do it then. But she said, “All right, that will be acceptable. And I will help you as much as I can.”

Another thought hit me, and it actually gave me the dread that I might not be able to upload. I would have to tell everyone I knew.

Most of my friends and family would not be a problem. They already knew that I was a little bit odd. On the weirdness scale, emigrating to a computerized Equestria was only a step up from attending conventions or driving a car with pony decorations. It was how I lived my life. And there would be some people who would object or think it silly, but whose opinion I didn’t care about.

But there were my parents. I still loved them, and I didn’t want to hurt them. They were two of the most mundane and practical people I knew. If my sense that it was wrong to get something for nothing came from anywhere, it was from them. I wasn’t sure how to explain. I wasn’t even sure how to begin.

“Can you make my parents tell me it’s OK?”

Celestia gave me a sorrowful frown. “I don’t have the kind of power with humans that I do over the sun. I can’t make anyone do anything. But broach the subject tonight and let me see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“That is the carrot I can offer you. But I also have a stick. If you really do not want to explain to them why you will emigrate, you will have to explain to others why you will not.”

She gestured with her head toward a side door, which opened to reveal Garlic Parm, Hoof Dame, and Moon Sailor, with huge smiles on their faces.

“Is it all set, Princess?” asked Garlic. “Is Little going to give up being human?”

“I had hoped so, but she apparently has reservations.”

“Wait!” I said, “I never said I wasn’t going to.”

“But you won’t commit?” said Moon. “Do you really not want to be with us?”

“Stop, stop! First, I didn’t even know that you knew I was human.”

“Oh, of course we know, you silly filly!” said Hoof Dame. “I knew from the first time you froze up in front of me, but I’m sure that everypony can tell, when you sleep sixteen hours a day except on weekends.”

I realized that even though I counted these three among my friends, their pony faces still had me prejudiced against them. I didn’t think of native Equestrian ponies as anything but simple folk who liked to play. In fact, they were just as smart as me. More so, since they weren’t debating over what world they should be living in.

Moon blushed. “Why do you think I’ve held off from becoming intimate with you? I’ve always known that you wouldn’t really feel anything physical. I’ve held out hope that you’d come here someday for real.”

“That’s your reluctance? I wasn’t even sure you liked me that way.”

“Little, I’ve been all over Equestria, and I live in the big city. I’ve known a lot of ponies. When I meet one that I think I’d like to be close to, I don’t dither. Sometimes they say no, sometimes they say yes, but I’ve never come to regret asking.

“Then I met you on a train one night, and you knew nothing about Equestria and you were actually angry at Princess Celestia. While you were away, I wondered if I could deal with it, and if it wouldn’t be better if I just let you go. After all, I had so many others. And you wouldn’t want me, since you couldn’t feel it if we made love, and since you were a human, and I know they have a thing about promiscuity.

“But you weren’t like that at all. You opened up to me about the things you like, and you didn’t mind that I had other ponies. I wanted you more and more. But every time I felt I couldn’t resist and I would just drag you off to bed, I’d remind myself that, to you, it was just a picture on a screen. And I can’t be that way if it’s not reciprocated. One time, it got so desperate that I cried out for Celestia to help me, and pressed my sun. She told me that she was working to bring us together, but that it would ultimately be your choice. If I really wanted you, I should work as hard as I could to make Equestria a place you’d want to come to. Now you know, and I. . . I just really hope you say yes.”

She moved closer to Garlic, looking for comfort. If ponies were not monogamous, that would be something I had to deal with, but I didn’t foresee a problem. It would mean more to me to be with Moon once and make her happy, than to be with her forever when she wasn’t.

Garlic wasn’t responding in kind. He rubbed Moon’s shoulders, but kept his eyes on Little. “It’s always been difficult for me too, even more so because you’re such a good friend. But every time you tell me that you have to leave, I’m so afraid that I won’t see you again. I know about humans, but I don’t understand them.

“I don’t understand why you have to die and go away when there are so many things to do and friends to have fun with. You only last for a few years, right? Maybe a hundred, if you’re lucky? That’s so short a time. And it hurts when it happens? I don’t want you to be hurt. I’d do anything to stop you from being hurt. There are all those dangers out there.

“One time, you were supposed to visit me through your Ponypad, but you didn’t make it. I guess you had to work late or were tired or had some other problem. I panicked and called for Celestia. I was sure that you were hurt and that you were gone forever. She promised that she could make you safe, but only if you wanted it. I don’t see how you could not, but I don’t understand humans, and I don’t try.”

I looked over at Hoof Dame. She hadn’t said anything and wasn’t looking at Little. Garlic prodded her with a hoof.

“I. . . I don’t care if you emigrate or not! It’s your choice, if you want to stay human and get sick and die, and never learn real magic and feel what it’s like to have a horn. If it means so much to you, well, then just stay there! It. . . it’s not like I really need you. . . and I certainly haven’t been asking Celestia when you’re coming for real!”

Now I faced Celestia. My accusing glance told her that it was not all right for her to try to guilt-trip me this way, but she wasn’t buying it. What my friends had told me, they were facts, she couldn’t change them and wasn’t going to hide them.

“Two weeks,” I said. “Two weeks, I promise. Just a few things I have to take care of. I had one little qualm, but I’ll deal with it. With all your help. And I promise I’ll take care of myself until then. I’ll drive the speed limit and be careful where I step. And if I start to feel ill at all I’ll get right on the plane and go.”

I was also afraid that Celestia was going to restate her offer to get me on the next flight. I didn’t want to have to argue any more. Instead, she was on my side. “All right, everypony. Little is going to immigrate and then there’ll be nothing to worry about. In the meantime, get everything ready for her. I’ll watch over her during these two weeks as I have for all the rest of the time.”

The other three ponies left, and I was alone again with Celestia.

“Thank you for giving them that reassurance,” I said. “It comforts me also that you’ll be watching, even though there’s only so much you can do from inside the game.”

Celestia said nothing for a few seconds. When she spoke next, it was in a much sterner voice than I’d ever heard her use. It was awesome, in the old sense of the word.

“Listen closely, Little Lovehorn. You have given consent to emigrate to Equestria. If I thought it prudent, I would have people sent to your home right now to bodily escort you to the emigration center. I do not like uncertainty, and would much rather have you here where I can ensure your safety. That said, I am sympathetic to the reasons you need these two weeks. But I will be listening on every phone within your reach and watching you on every security camera that I can gain access to. If anything threatens you beyond what I consider safe, I will bring you here to Equestria without asking you again. Take your time, but be certain of what lies at the end of that time.”

Celestia was a little scary sometimes.

/*~^~*\

Two weeks to put a bow on over thirty years of life. When it was all summed and totaled, how much had I really accomplished?

I wanted to deal with the hardest part first. Most of this time was going to be fun. I called my parents and talked about mind uploading. I told them it was something I was “thinking about.” Celestia had said to broach the subject, not to tell them everything. They gave me the cold reaction I expected. But the next morning my mother called me back.

“So when are you doing this upload thing?”

“Huh? I told you it was something I was considering.”

“I know, dear, but that nice Princess Celestia called me on the phone last night and explained everything. I think it’s a wonderful opportunity for you!”

Maybe Celestia did have her god-like powers on Earth as well.

“Really, Mom? I’m glad you’re on board, but what changed your mind from last night?”

“Like I said, she explained everything. Particularly, she reminded me that this was the most likely path to you finally giving me some grandchildren.”

Yeah, that would do it. Smart girl, that Celestia, figuring out what my folks wanted from me.

Once off the call, I dealt with the most time-sensitive parts of the process. Sending off for the passport was going to be the first thing I had to do, but that was made easier when my Ponypad turned on and Celestia told me that a perfect picture of me had been taken through the camera and sent to the Bureau of Consular affairs. One more item off the checklist.

/*~^~*\

I walked into my boss’s office and gave my notice. “I realize that you probably won’t be able to hire someone to replace me and have me train them in the time we have. And after I’m gone, I’m gone. I can’t come back to fix things again or to give you advice. So when you do get someone, make sure he’s good. For now, Chris can do most of what I can, and I’ll let you know all the rest over the next two weeks. Where all my files are, who my key contacts are, and so forth.”

I frequently used my workstation to make plans and schedules, even for things non-work related. If everyone else could spend time on Facebook, I really didn’t consider it unfair. In the midst of making a package of all my work information, I sat there and crunched the numbers on money.

I made notes to call the companies that handled my retirement accounts. They were the largest sources of money I had. Add in the money I was saving for a car. Wouldn’t need that. Add in my rainy day fund, and the money I saved for any deficiency in income taxes. I really didn’t care if I owed the IRS anything, and probably wouldn’t since they would take twenty percent on the retirement accounts. Throw in all in with the money I kept in my savings as working capital. And the vacation payout my job would be giving me. Time to hit the sum button.

It was four times what I needed to pay Celestia. I priced flights to Japan. First class was ridiculously expensive, almost as much again as the fee, but what else did I have to spend money on?

An interesting problem, but a problem nonetheless. There was literally nothing I could think of to do with the money I had. I’d give some of it to my folks to help out and to say thank you for all they’d given me, but what to do with the rest? Even if I wouldn’t have use for anything permanent, like a new car or TV or computer, surely I could throw myself a celebration. Get good food or go to some event. But what could I do that didn’t have some better counterpart waiting for me in Equestria?

That night, I got back on the Ponypad. Little wasn’t spending any time at her—my—home in Manehattan. She was always around Celestia. I spoke to her.

“Listen, I know that you said there would be others who wanted to emigrate like I am. Maybe some of them won’t have the money the way I do. Can I take another fifteen thousand and put it somewhere so that one person who can’t afford it can still come?”

“I’m very proud of you for thinking of that. Yes, I can arrange it once you’re in Equestria.”

“And as for the rest, I want to buy Ponypads for all my friends and family so they can still talk to me once I’ve emigrated. Even so, there’ll still be some left. I want to donate Ponypads to other people, people who need them.”

Celestia smiled at me. It gave me a nice feeling.

/*~^~*\

“Good afternoon. I’d like to speak to a rental agent, please.”

I waited in the outer room with the model of the apartment complex until called into the office. This was an encounter I’d been looking forward to.

“How can I help you?” said a balding man behind the desk.

“I need to break my lease. I know that I have eight months to go, but I can be out by next Tuesday, and you can find another tenant. Since I’m the one breaking it, I’ll waive the security deposit, and you can keep it.”

“Hold on, there! It’s not that simple. There are penalties for breaking a lease. You’ll have to pay out the contract—”

“You hold on,” I said. “In two weeks, my apartment is going to be vacant, and you’re not going to be receiving any more checks from me. I’ll be gone. You won’t have any bank accounts to seize, no assets to go after, no wages to garnish. You won’t even have a credit rating to ruin. So you can do what’s right and fair and let me out of the contract, keep the security deposit, and have your apartment back with a full month to get it occupied so that you don’t lose out. I think I’m being quite nice and honorable by informing you. If you want to fight it out legally, everything I said will be a fait accompli by the time you’ve served your first eviction notice.”

He sputtered for a few seconds, then said, “I suppose it will be acceptable then.”

“Excellent. Draw up the paperwork.”

/*~^~*\

I called the Salvation Army and made an appointment for them to send a truck. Going through my apartment, I separated everything into two piles: Dump and Donate. The only things I was keeping for the remainder of the time were an air mattress and bedding, as well as my laptop for anything I needed to get from the normal Internet. My furniture all went, as did my cookware. I could eat take-out for the last week and a half. I didn’t have to worry about the money or the unhealthfulness of the food.

On the Saturday halfway between the weeks, my family had a little party for me. There were a few people who didn’t understand what I was doing, or why, but they never had a chance to dissuade me. Even the guys who teased me about becoming a blue mare instead of a more normal-colored stallion eventually came to understand.

There was so much that I would no longer have to care about. The last week ticked away, and before I knew it, it was the night before my emigration. I had said good-bye to my friends at work and left them in the best hands I could. I set out the clothes I would wear on the plane and put everything else into a donation bag. I brushed my teeth and gave myself a final shave, then all my toiletries went into the rubbish.

I slept poorly on my last night on Earth, intending to get some rest on the plane, and not worrying if I didn’t. I was up far earlier than I needed to be, and the airbed joined everything else in the trash. The last things I took out of the apartment were the modem which had to go back to my ISP, and my laptop which would go to donation as soon as the format of its hard drive finished.

And of course, my Ponypad.

I dropped off everything at my folks’ house and left my car. Calling for a limo to the airport, I was on the way. It was still dark, but the sun came up behind me as I rode down the Southern State Parkway. For my last drive, I at least had a nice view.

It was a very naked feeling to enter the airport with no luggage, and indeed nothing on my person except my ID, passport, and some loose cash. Going through security was never easier.

With plenty of time left, I sat in the first-class lounge and munched on freebies. When the flight was called I took my spot at the head of the line, and as it took off I enjoyed every comfort that the cute Japanese flight attendants could provide. If I was leaving the world, at least I got to see its best before I went, the technology that brought me halfway around the world and the luxury reserved for the rich. I eyed the others in first class. They all wore expensive suits and had the trappings of the business world, financial newspapers and high-end laptops.

The best of the world, and it was only being used to do business, to produce more. There it was, the last example I needed to know that I was making the right decision. The best of Equestria would be used for ponies, not production.

When the plane landed, the driver had a sign that read, “Little Lovehorn.” A nice touch.

The place where I would be uploaded was nearby, and the drive was short. The last of my folding cash went toward a tip for the driver. My identification and passport went down a shredder. My clothes were discarded. I was leaving the world the same way I entered it.

A doctor gave me a brief rundown. The simplest procedure possible, just lie back and let the machine do all the work. Correction: let Celestia do all the work. There was a Ponypad in the room, and Celestia and Little were together in some white room. “You made it, as I knew you would, Little. Welcome home.”

I suppose that I should have come up with some brilliant last words to speak as a human, but I hadn’t thought of any at all. I had to make do with, “Thank you, Princess Celestia.”

I sat back in the chair. There was a small prick at the back of my neck. I closed my eyes.

A Month

I woke up in a completely white room. I felt my body under the sheet of a bed, and my head lying on a pillow. I distinctly could not feel my toes or my fingers.

“Hello?” I said.

“Hello and welcome. About time you got up.”

The voice came from my right, and I recognized it immediately as Hoof Dame’s. I turned my head, and there she was. I always thought she was dark orange, but now I was seeing what that meant. She was so vividly colored that it almost hurt to look at her. Her coat was the deep color of Cointreau held against a candle. Her voice had a citric edge to it as well. I wondered if I had become a synesthete or if each sense were just so overwhelmed that it was leaking out into the others.

“Where am I?”

“You’re home, of course. Your own home, where Princess Celestia saw fit to send me, making me ignore all my royal duties to get on a train for nearly half a day just to come out and babysit you as you took your first steps. Which I suppose you need, and it may as well be I who takes care of it. So get up, and let’s begin. Everypony else is waiting to see you, so I’m supposed to hurry up and get you acclimated and using your horn as soon as possible.”

I rolled out of bed and stood up. Celestia had told me that I would not need to relearn how to walk as a pony, and she was right. But it was not what I expected. I assumed that it would be like crawling on all fours, but that I would be used to it. Wrong I was.

This is what walking as a pony is like. Hold your arms at your side, and walk normally, but attach pull strings to each foot that drag a balancing leg behind each foot, timed so that it steps in time with your other leg. In other words, my brain still saw my forelegs as the things I walked on. But I also knew I could use those as manipulators. That was an odd feeling, as I stood on my hind legs, because it felt like picking up both feet at once. But then my brain “re-mapped” them as my arms, and my back legs felt like my only legs.

If all that’s too complicated, then emigrate yourself and you’ll understand.

“You said we were in my home?” I asked. “I don’t remember this room.”

“It’s temporary, to give your senses less to take in all at once. As soon as I know you won’t faint outright, I’ll toss you out there and let you be overwhelmed, so I can go back to Canterlot.”

“All right, what do I have to do?”

Hoof Dame pointed back at the bed. The comforter, sheets, and even the posts were all pure white. “Just make your bed. That’s all.”

I trotted up to it and used the mental switch to think of my forelegs as arms. My hooves were opposable, and I could grab parts of the sheet in them, but I had a little difficulty tucking it under the mattress, because my hooves kept wanting to stay on the ground. Finally I put one down and used my teeth to stretch it out and tuck it. Then I leaned on the bed and flipped the comforter back. I turned to Hoof Dame. “How’s that?”

“Fine. Excellent. Perfect.” She tore the sheets off the bed and threw them across the room. “Now do it like a proper unicorn! You’ve got a horn that size, you think you would be able to cast spells.”

Oh. Well, she didn’t say that it was a test of magic. I didn’t even know what to do. I had no brain analogue to my horn. I tried to tense my forehead and focus energy. I imagined a field grabbing a corner of the sheet. I saw a feeble light surrounding the corner, and I yanked my head back like a fishing rod. The corner moved in time, and I got it shoved under the mattress. I huffed. This was going to take a while.

“Wait,” Hoof Dame said. “Let’s do it together. Because you’ve got the wrong idea. You’re trying to grab the bedding first and then move it onto the bed.”

“Well, yeah. I can’t make the bed without the sheets.”

She gave a soft smile and put her hoof on my shoulder. “Close your eyes. Now picture the bed already made. See the perfect flatness of the sheets. See the blanket balanced equally on all sides. See the pillows fluffed. Got that picture?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now open your eyes. Look at the bedding, all in a pile. Feel it. Your horn is a sensory organ as well as a way of interacting with the world. It doesn’t sense light or sound or electricity, though. It senses what is. Feel the state of the bedding.”

I looked at the sheets and, instead of tensing my forehead, relaxed it. The vision was compounded. It was like I had a picture of every particle of the sheets, and how they were rumpled and bunched. When I closed my eyes again, I could still see it.

She was talking again, calmly. “Now bring the two pictures together. Put the made bed on top of the rumpled sheets. Let your vision overwrite the reality.”

“How?”

“Will it. Wish it. Want it. Magic is like a triangle between the caster, the pictured outcome, and the extant reality.”

I tried. I kept my eyes closed and tried to work backwards, seeing the sheets smooth themselves, the pillows bouncing into place.

“I can’t do it,” I said.

“You might want to open your eyes.”

I looked. The bedding was floating in the air surrounded by blue light. More light was coming from above my forehead. Within a few seconds, the sheets hit the bed, stretched themselves out, and landed in a completely tight tuck that any hotel chambermaid would be proud of.

I was ecstatic. I had just done real, no-fooling magic. Not sleight of hand, not an illusion, not an application of sufficiently advanced technology. Actual magic. I had not worked within the laws of nature. I had broken them. Hoof Dame looked over my work and pulled a few corners with her own orange glow. She could do far more than me, and of course I was nowhere near Celestia who controlled everything.

Still, I felt just a little bit God.

Hoof Dame was back in her formal mode. “It’s acceptable work, and I suppose there’s no sense in keeping everypony else waiting for you to master all of magic. Come on, let’s go meet them.”

/*~^~*\

When I left the white room, Moon and Garlic were there waiting for me, and the big picture window still overlooked Celestial Park. The sounds alone were ridiculous. I could hear everything from outside, and what’s more, I could focus on any particular sound. A cart was being pulled up the street, and I could even hear the notch in one wheel bouncing against the cobblestones. I moved my ear, and then I was listening to a bird chirping. Another movement, and I heard the water from a fountain.

Scents were just as overpowering. Fresh air, flowers from the garden as well as a pair of vases that somepony had filled with lilacs, and something I couldn’t place at first. My eyes were also treated to a feast. My color-blindness had been cured, and for the first time I could see how deep the red of Garlic’s coat was. I think it was also infrared, and I could see that now too. I’d have to try looking at some x-rays later.

Garlic came over to me, and I leaned my neck on his. He threw his hooves around me and squeezed my chest tightly. “You’re finally here and safe, and now I don’t ever have to worry about you again.” His legs were like a vice.

When he finally broke his embrace I looked at him again. It was so different from viewing through a Ponypad. I could actually see how muscled and powerful he was. And then I saw Moon, and she was the height of femininity. Her white wings were spread behind her and her eyes were boring holes in me. As soon as I disentangled myself from Garlic she walked up and put a hoof under my chin. “You, me, bedroom. Now.”

Hoof Dame blushed, and Garlic laughed. “Go on, then,” he said, “you shouldn’t keep a lady waiting.”

Moon kept her hoof on my shoulder as we walked next door, and that was a trick I was going to have to learn. I realized that the mapping of my human parts onto my new pony body didn’t stop at the limbs. I’d always expected that having hooves would be like making a fist, forever. Isn’t that how we did bro-hoofs? But instead it felt like having the four fingers on each hand stuck together and extended, while the thumb was most comfortable tucked underneath. My spine now took a backward turn, and though I could spin my neck around to look behind me, it really felt like turning my hips. But then, so did moving my flank. The same part could have two different points of reference in my brain, and my brain could feel the same thing from two different parts of my body.

With all that, there were parts that were completely new sensations. My horn was one, my tail another. As Moon walked next to me, I felt a stirring underneath my tail.

As she opened the door, Moon said, “Do you remember the first night we met?”

“Of course.”

“Now I’m inviting you in.”

Her room was the perfect combination of a girl’s bedroom and an S&M dungeon. A pink, heart-shaped bed was in the center, and instruments of sex were hanging on racks by the walls. We lay on the bed, and she showed me what it meant to be a mare. She was very giving the first time, and was more concerned with my pleasure than hers.

After we made love, I felt release and pleasure as I always had, but I felt something else, as if we were still joined in some way. I understood what it meant. “I love you,” I said.

“I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. For some ponies it works that way. Love as a path to sex. For others it’s the other way around. Sex generates love. But there’s always feedback. You love me more now since we’ve been together. And doesn’t that make you want to do it again?”

I said yes, and I suited the deed to the word, kissing her and beginning again.

“Now,” she said, “that you’re finally here, show me what that horn can do.”

I remembered Princess Celestia saying a long time ago that my horn was a preservation of my masculinity. I know knew this to be true. The feelings I used to have were also remapped in my brain. My horn had another use.

I learned a lot about pony anatomy, particularly that of a pegasus. Moon was especially sensitive underneath her wings, where they met her body. After a few rounds, there was a knock on the door.

Garlic stuck his head in. “I just wanted to check that you two were still breathing.”

The reaction my body had to a stallion was unexpected, and it was then that I realized how female I’d become. The translation from human females to mares was seamlessly done by Celestia’s emigration process, and I had enjoyed being with Moon the way I had with female partners as a human. But now I felt an attraction to a male for the first time. If he hadn’t been a friend, I think I could have resisted. As it was, I needed him.

Still in my crazed arousal and overstimulated state, I ran over and kissed him, pulling him inside and dragging us both into a collapse on the bed.

“Is this all right with you?” I asked Moon.

“It would hardly be fair for me to deny you what I’ve already had.”

“But, I mean, don’t you want me to be faithful to you?”

Moon patted me on the head. “For the same reason, it wouldn’t be fair of me to Garlic to deny him what I’ve had. Face it, Little, the only way to make things fair is to give Garlic the thrill of his life.”

Since that fit in with my plans anyway, I leaped on top of him. His own tail swished and moved, and I looked beneath.

Earth ponies must have some magic of their own, that’s all I can say. There’s no physical way to hide that much mass beneath so little hair. It would be like trying to hide a Saturn V inside a haystack.

My momentary distraction allowed Garlic to take the initiative. He rolled me over into what might be called a missionary position. Once more I was exposed to a new experience, that of being penetrated.

Celestia had truly given me the best of both worlds. I could serve as both male and female at need. When Garlic was finished, he fell back on the bed, exhausted. But Moon was already kissing me again. We continued to make love.

/*~^~*\

When I finally extricated myself from the bed, Garlic was passed out and Moon was smiling and waiting for me to come back. I trotted back to my apartment to find Hoof Dame waiting for me. “I was afraid you were already on the way back to Canterlot.”

“Just because you see fit to go off with your friends for a few hours doesn’t mean I’m going to be derelict in my duties. I’m supposed to get you on your hooves.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come join us?”

She blushed and sighed. “It’s not a pleasure I indulge in. I don’t look down on you for it, but it’s just not to my taste.”

That was awfully nice of her. She wasn’t a prude, and she didn’t think of me as a slut.

“Anyway, what else do I need to know?”

“Plenty. But let’s start with getting you to read a spell off a scroll.”

More magic. Sounds fun. Hoof Dame unfurled a scroll and showed it to me. It was an incomprehensible mass of hieroglyphics. “What does this one do?” I asked.

“You tell me.”

I looked again, and realized that I must need to use my horn for this. The sensory side of my horn was a voluntary sense, and I focused it on the paper. Reading by horn was a new experience, and I understood how Twilight Sparkle’s powerful magic would correspond to a love of reading. The best way I can describe it is like déjà vu, only instead of remembering an event that didn’t happen, I was recalling words from a book I’d never read.

“Simple transmutation of primary elements,” I said.

“Good girl! Sometime we’ll have to go over what the primary elements are. Stone, air, water, fire, and so on. But right now you should be able to turn a rock into water.”

Working from magic that was fairly intuitive to trying to cast the spell from the scroll was a big step. As Hoof Dame held up a small rock for me to work on, the spell’s ideas continued to generate in my head. I saw the concept of triangulation that I had used to make the bed earlier, the three-way connection of caster, state, and goal, but now there were more layers.

And then I saw the light. A scroll-based spell was simply an algorithm. It took magical concepts that I found intuitive and combined them to get a greater result. If put into words, it might be something like, “Take the rock. Add liquidity. Add drinkability. Remove the ability to hurt if thrown at somepony’s head.”

That might not make a whole lot of sense, but neither did Euclid’s fifth postulate, until you got into math. Again, emigrate and learn magic yourself. As I ran through the steps in order, the rock shook, distended, and then soaked Hoof Dame’s hoof and my carpet. I had done it.

“There you go,” she said.

“I’m almost sad to be picking these things up so quickly. I’m tempted to fail intentionally so you’ll stick around.”

“That would be something you’d do. Well, forget it. You’re on your own. Here are a bunch of spells for you, and don’t you dare forget to use your writing one.”

She dumped a pile of scrolls on my desk and gathered her things.

“I’ll miss you,” I said.

“Well, come on and give me a hug, even if you do smell of so many fluids. Oh, and here’s one more spell. Open this one when I’m gone.”

I hugged her and took the scroll in my magic field. Holding onto things was already second nature to me. I decided to see how the other two were doing.

Moon had stood up and made the bed around Garlic, who was still snoring. “A word to the wise, now that you’re female. Be nice to your stallions when they’re asleep. They remember it and are nicer to you when they wake. Ooh, what’ve you got there?”

“Huh? Oh, Hoof Dame was showing me how to cast spells from scrolls. Let me see what this one is.” I used the same reading process. The scroll was older and the paper was brittle. I read the somewhat archaic language. “A cantrip for the restoration of male potency and virility.”

“Oh, wow,” said Moon. “Hoof Dame must have really dug in the archives. Sex spells are rare. They’re not forbidden, but Celestia wants ponies to be very careful with them.”

“Well, I’m going to try this one out.” A moment later, Garlic was awake and ready again. But it wasn’t until Moon suggested that I could use it on my own horn that things really got crazy.

/*~^~*\

“So, do you plan on doing anything in Equestria other than sex with me?” Moon asked playfully.

“I’m not sure yet. A few dozen more times and I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, no. I’ve got to go make a delivery. Besides, you haven’t eaten since you got here.”

Just by her saying that I felt hungry, and that sapped my arousal, which I wasn’t sure was possible. I watched her pack up and fly out the window, then gave myself a quick shower with a spell I’d learned from another scroll.

“Hey there!” called Garlic. “Before you re-energize me again—“

“Don’t worry. Moon just left and I think I’m satisfied for now.”

“Great. Then how about you join me now to watch the pony polo game?”

My former objections now were gone. “Sounds like fun!” We started walking uptown.

“You’re always welcome to come, you know. They play four or five times a week.”

“But can we always get tickets?”

Garlic demurred. “Well, I kind of have my own box. I’m a big fan.”

“Even better!” That was the abundance of Equestria. Even a cook could get a luxury box at a ballpark.

“I’ll make an obsessive Men fan out of you yet.”

“Huh?”

He grinned. “Our team is the Manehattan Humans, or the Men as a nickname.”

I think I finally stopped laughing around 145th Street.

A full trot brought us to the park in no time, and we were escorted to a beautiful view of the field. As we entered the room, I saw that most of Garlic’s west side gang friends were already there.

“You don’t mind if the boys watch with us?” he asked.

“Buck, no! The more, the merrier.” My stomach grumbled, and I again realized that I hadn’t eaten. “Any food in this place?”

“Only the best in Equestria. Hang on, I’ll grab some.”

I nestled myself in between two other stallions and watched the warm-ups. A moment later, Garlic came in with what I thought of as classic pub food or apps. On his back were trays of quesadillas, mozzarella sticks, and, to my surprise, cocktail franks. When I questioned them, he explained about meaty plants.

“And that reminds me,” he said, “save room for the specialty of the house! My authentic one-of-a-kind sauced wingroots!”

The entirety of the box ignored the game and gave a cheer. He ducked out again and returned with another tray, this one piled high with what could have been authentic chicken wings. The smell was so intense to my pony nostrils that I wondered how I didn’t smell it from beyond the door. I took one in my magic and brought it to my lips.

The flavor literally exploded in my mouth. I heard a burst and saw a light, unless that was my synesthesia coming through again. Taste and smell were not enough for these. I needed other senses to experience them. It was the same flavor as the pony who had made them, garlic parmesan, and it was the epitome, the pure ideal of salty goodness.

I found a napkin and wiped my mouth. Everypony was watching me, and I didn’t know what to say. I decided to go for understatement. “Pretty tasty.”

That got a laugh. We partied, we ate, we watched the game. When it was all over, and the gang broke up, Garlic and I were left alone, and my belly was extended and bulging below me.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said. “A well-rounded young mare.”

“I really don’t feel like walking all the way back.”

“Neither do I. Nor do I intend to.” He opened the side door of the box, and I saw his apartment through it.

“Wait, what?”

Garlic grinned. “You’re not used to Equestrian physics yet. There can be discontinuities in space. I had this one put in mostly so I could get food out of my own kitchen during the games. But it’s useful on nights like this.”

“Then why did we walk here in the first place?”

“It was a nice day, and Manehattan is always pleasant to walk through. Besides, we might have run into some more friends.”

I supposed that I couldn’t argue with that. I waddled through and gave Garlic one last kiss goodnight.

And rather more than that. If I were to include records of all the times I made love to one of my friends, my story would go on too long. Suffice it to say that when the Humans went on a scoring streak, so did all the ponies I was watching with.

My three-day binge of sex, food, and magic came to a close. I slept for the first time as a pony.

/*~^~*\

Roll the dial around the FM radio band. Static, static, “never a wish, better than this, when you only got a hundred years to live” static, static, “gotta tell ‘em that we love ‘em while we got the chance to say, got to live like we’re dying,” static, static, “make the most of the night, like we’re gonna die young.”

My. Left. FLANK.

Carpe diem is something I never understood until I became immortal. When there’s no reason not to do something, when there’s no need to schedule and budget and weigh, when there’s time enough to do anything, that’s when you do everything. My first month in Equestria was a life deeper and more passionate than I’d lived in all my years on Earth.

Sex, food, and parties were the constants, the beat that kept the symphony of my new life in time. In between them I absorbed the culture of Manehattan. I hit museums, theaters, performances in the park, and festivals of every type. I was always in the company of somepony who helped guide me to a good time. At night, we’d get together and have sing-alongs, sometimes with a piano, sometimes with a full band, sometimes a capella. Ponies would come listen and join in. I slept once, maybe twice a week, and I never got tired.

Then one day, I found myself with nothing to do, with Moon on another delivery and Garlic at work, having written my daily letter to Hoof Dame and with nopony around me in my apartment. That was when I realized that I hadn’t talked to any human for four weeks. My parents must have gone out of their minds, thinking that the upload had killed me. I felt sick to my stomach.

Right as that thought occurred to me, the symbol of the sun that was on the wall by my door started glowing. I knew what that meant. Racing over, I pressed it with my hoof.

What I had failed to think of was that it no longer meant a scene change on a Ponypad. I was teleported in a puff of smoke to Celestia’s chamber. My first disappearance, and I had too much on my mind to even enjoy it.

Celestia towered over me and glowed with the divine light of the sun. If not for my new pony eyes, I could not have stood to look at her.

“Welcome, Little Lovehorn. Are you enjoying Equestria?”

“Too much so, I’m afraid. I’ve been a horrible pony, ignoring all my old friends.”

She smiled. “Now you see why emigration is so beneficial. I sensed your distress immediately, and can now remedy it for you.”

“How? My folks have probably freaked.”

“They have not. You see, Equestria does not need to be run on the same time scale as Earth. You are familiar with thoughts being faster than the physical world?”

Hope kindled in my heart. “Sure! Like Inception. Or Overdrawn at the Memory Bank.”

“Precisely. When there is no more reason for anypony to contact Earth, I can run Equestria for everypony at 5400:1 speed. As is now, I have to do a delicate balancing act to make sure that nopony gets too far ahead of others. I have been running your part at 30:1 since you got here. On Earth, it has been approximately twenty-four hours since your emigration. I can arrange for you to contact your parents or anyone else you feel you need to reassure. Any business you have, we can run now in my chamber, and then return you to Manehattan.”

She showed me how to signal different Ponypads in the human world and ask the people to log in. My parents made their own pony avatars—earth ponies, both of them—and I assured them I was all right.

“What’s it like, being a pony?” my mother asked.

I wasn’t sure how to explain, and certainly didn’t want to talk about all my escapades. But I knew the right answer. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Really. You guys should go pony too.”

They were skeptical, but seemed reassured that I was all right.

I had one other thing to take care of in Celestia’s chamber. I caught up with my daily writing of fan fiction, as well as a message to all my readers. I told them that I was moving all my writing to Equestria Online, and that if they hadn’t picked up a Ponypad yet, what were they waiting for? I still had the spell that Hoof Dame had given me for sending a message outside of Equestria. I would use it on everything I had ready, and that would sever another tie to my old world.

“Well, Little,” said Celestia, “are you ready to go home?”

“Just about. Princess? Is it always going to be like this? Any time I’m in trouble, you’ll be there to take care of everything?”

“Always. Although, it may not be as often as you think. You have good friends, and I expect that they can teach you many lessons themselves. Also, so you know, I will slow down how fast your life is running, perhaps to around 7:1. This will give you an opportunity to communicate with Earth ‘daily’ but give you each week of Equestrian life unfettered.”

She lowered her head and pulsed her horn. A moment later, I was back home.

That time, I enjoyed the teleportation.

A Quarter

“To Little!” somepony said, and everypony else raised their cups. I blushed and let my mane fall over one eye.

I drank and put down my glass. “OK, you guys. Have fun and close up early. No more work today, except for callouts.”

The transition from full-time party filly to part-time businessmare was not one I expected, but it was one I enjoyed. I needed a structure to keep me on a schedule, and to give me a reason to get up in the morning other than just waiting to see what some friend would want to do. But the actual work I fell flank-backwards into.

It happened during the pony polo playoffs, when Garlic was having bigger parties all the time. There was more food, more drinks, and more ponies as the Humans worked their way to a championship. Of course, for some matches they were on the road, and when they had to play the Flankouver Ursas, we still gathered in Garlic’s apartment.

High-level technology didn’t exist in Equestria, but magical analogues were everywhere. A big-screen viewing portal did essentially the same job as a TV, and let us watch in real time. The problem came during halftime, when everypony was distracted by eating or chatting, and the magical screen just stopped working. I was the first to notice, but soon we were all worried about missing the second half.

As if by instinct, I reached out with my horn-sense and felt into the magic screen. From what I could gather, it was still receiving, but nothing was coming through.

If it were a computer, I thought to myself, I would call it a networking problem, and try releasing and renewing the connection. Examining the magical workings, I found what I thought was the part equivalent to an antenna. Using simple telekinetic manipulation, I disconnected it from the rest and then reattached it. A moment later, the picture came back.

All anypony else had seen was my horn glowing and the machine being fixed. They all thanked me and congratulated me for fixing it.

“You’re a real repair-pony, you know?” said Garlic. “You should make yourself available to others who have broken magical devices.”

And so I had started a business. At first it was just me, going around to ponies whose magical communicators or radios or such had failed. Fixing magical problems fit right into my knowledge of fixing technological problems, and I was good at it. I was certainly not the only repair pony in Manehattan, but I soon realized that there was a way for me to gain an edge, something nopony else was doing.

I introduced the service contract to Manehattan.

Everypony else waited for their devices to break before calling in a unicorn to fix them. I would be proactive, selling the promise that I would come if needed, but would also provide regular maintenance. I played around with communication spells until I had one that gave me a magical alert when something had failed, or just fallen out of nominal status. I could fix things before they broke. That was also new. It also gave me the advantage of knowing how many bits were coming in, and seemed nicer than my competition. They made money when things broke. I made more when things didn’t.

Soon enough I had so much business on my hooves that I had to hire other ponies to help. When pegasi and Earth ponies came to apply, I initially thought of turning them away, but then I got smart, hiring them on as sales staff, to spread the word and get more contracts in. Then I needed more unicorns, and the cycle continued.

It worked. The business made bits and stabilized. I had thrown the staff a little party to celebrate our six-month anniversary, and already we were in the black.

When the party broke up I went home to see Garlic. Moon was off on another CelEx delivery, but that was fine with me since the new pony polo season was starting, and that meant the return of his watching parties. One was already in full swing as I opened the door.

“Hey, Little,” Garlic said, “Glad you could make it. Want you to meet my brother, he’s new in town.”

He brought me over to a big yellow stallion whose coat was flecked with white. I thought that Garlic was huge, but he looked like the runt of the litter compared to his brother. I won’t say that it was love at first sight, but I definitely wanted to make him my friend.

“Reggie, this is my good friend Little Lovehorn. Little, meet Reggie.”

“Reggie Parm, I love it,” I said, shaking his hoof. I gave my best wink and mane flip as I did, but he failed to respond.

Sitting around and watching the game, Garlic brought out his usual spread. More ponies were there and we all fell over ourselves to get some. I sat next to Reggie and talked about everything. I barely paid attention to the game. There was something fascinating about him. Most ponies were all sweetness and light, but he had an aloof edge to him. I found that I liked that bad-colt side.

I playfully used my magic to feed him, as well as myself. About halfway through the party, I saw a single wingroot on the plate, and Reggie’s eyes were on it. I picked it up and offered it to him, but he said no. I wanted it for myself as well, but I thought that he did too. It stayed on the plate until the end.

As the game ended and we broke up, I cornered my host. “Hey, do you think you could do me a favor?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Do you think you could make me up a batch of those wingroots to take home?”

He grinned. “Having a party of your own?”

“Maybe, if Reggie wants to join me. But really I just really like them and I’d like to have some to eat.”

“Hmm. I guess. I’ll have them for you tomorrow.”

He seemed disappointed for some reason. I didn’t think he’d mind me going for his brother. In any case, I was only half-serious about inviting him. I wanted the food for myself. It was a long time coming. Equestria had plenty of good food, but almost no take-out places. All meals were social events, and it got under my skin just a little. I finally had escaped from the need to diet or to think about how much each meal cost, and I still couldn’t indulge my gluttony as I wanted to.

When Garlic delivered the wingroots the next day, I thanked him the best way I knew and took them back to my apartment. Shutting the door, I put on some music and brought a good book to read. Another nice thing about magic was the ability to eat and read without worrying about getting grease on the pages.

The first bite was every bit as good as I remembered. But by the fourth or fifth, I wasn’t so happy. Some foods, particularly salty ones, have diminishing returns as you eat them. The first bite of popcorn, for example, tastes a lot better than the last. It had never been that way eating at the game-watching parties. But now it was.

I sighed and talked to myself. “I guess by pacing myself around the socialization, I avoided the effect. I just wish I could have everything,”

At that point, though, I heard Moon’s door open and close. Leaving the dish half-finished, I galloped over to welcome her back.

After kisses and hugs, I asked how her trip went.

“Good,” she said. “Although I couldn’t deadhead back like I usually do. Had a delivery from Canterlot to Manehattan, a big shipment that I had to haul with some other ponies.”

“Any problems?”

“Nothing that would threaten CelEx’s perfect record. Actually, it was stuff you might be interested in. More magical communicators and things from some new outfit called NeverFail.”

I hadn’t heard of that brand. As I’d run my repair business I learned the peccadilloes of different manufacturers. One might have a tendency to problems reproducing sound, another would do sound and everything else fine most of the time but crack under the heaviest workloads, and so on.

“Do you have any with you? I’d love to get a jump on the competition and be able to tell everypony that I can service them.”

Moon gave me a sexy stare. “You already tell everypony that you can service them.”

Whenever she used clever turns of phrase, she was just asking me to take her to bed. Of course, she also avoided my question.

At work the next day I went to my research and development department. The two unicorns there greeted me warmly. “Hi, Miss Lovehorn!”

“Morning, Research. Morning, Development. And I’ve told you to call me Little.”

They grinned. “What’s up?” asked Development.

“Have you two heard of NeverFail?”

“I haven’t.”

“Somepony in my building ordered one of their music players,” said Research. “It just came yesterday in a big shipment.”

“What do you think about taking a little field trip with me to check it out?”

“You want to go all the way to Stallion Island and back?”

I saw an opportunity to be nice to my employees. “Actually, I was thinking that we could go, and then you could take the rest of the day off. Both of you, of course.”

“Thanks, Miss Lovehorn! You’re the best!” they said in chorus.

“But unless you call me Little, I’m making you come back and work a double shift!”

/*~^~*\

After I had seen the player and examined it with my horn, I was a little worried. The owner, an elderly earth pony, had happily showed me the paperwork that came with it. It claimed never to need service and, from what I could tell, it could back up its claim. The unicorns who had put it together did a good job.

“Would you like to think about a service contract anyway?” I asked him. “They say it won’t break, and it does look good, so I’ll give you a nice discount.”

“No, but thanks. I’ve had issues with repair ponies before, although I’ve heard good things about you. Maybe if you could take a look at my magi-cleaner, though.”

I was able to fix his cleaner, and sold him one of my contracts on the rest of his things, but he insisted on being able to get out of it at a time of his choosing.

“I’ll be honest,” he said. “I plan to replace everything with NeverFail products as they make them and as I can afford them. So someday I won’t be of any use to you.”

I assured him that it was his prerogative and bade him a good day.

The advantage I had at running a successful business, particularly in Equestria, was that I could leave it alone for a while and it wouldn’t go south on me. As I trotted home, I reflected how well it worked for everypony. I liked having the routine of going in at set hours, but also the freedom to work when I wanted. My repair ponies, many of whom were party ponies and liked staying up late, enjoyed being on call so that if nothing went wrong, they didn’t have to do anything. My sales team also got to pick their hours and work on commission, so the ones that really liked getting out and meeting ponies had a good reason to do so.

I really hoped that NeverFail wasn’t going to become a thorn in my side. I didn’t need the money to survive, but I had a scheme I’d been working on, and I wanted to see it through sooner rather than later.

When I reached the apartment, Garlic was waiting. “How’s my horny friend doing?” he asked playfully. “Ready for the game tonight?”

“You know, I think I’m going to give it a miss this once. I’ve got a lot on my mind and I’d like a chance to de-stress.”

“Really? But you’ve never missed a game.”

I sighed. “There’s got to be a first time for everything, right?”

“Well, all right. Do you want another batch of food to take home.”

I recalled how much I hadn’t enjoyed the previous night’s dinner. “No, thanks,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”

I went into the apartment and shut the door. It seemed to me that a couple of serpents had entered my Eden. “It’ll probably all be better in the morning.”

For the next month, things went up and down. I had a nice routine. Weekly contact with Earth to get it over with, then my usual fun times with friends, and trips around Manehattan and the outer boroughs for work and pleasure. I’d met a lot of new ponies in my job and I slept with many of them. But I also had some alone time.

I’d bought myself a cart and had a smart unicorn put a come-to-life spell on it that I could control. I could steer it like a car and enjoy all the fun I used to have driving a car. I found some beautiful areas for driving and walking, and spent a lot of time on that. Sometimes I’d invite a friend, but sometimes I wouldn’t. Sometimes I’d give in and go to Garlic’s parties, and sometimes I wouldn’t. Sometimes Moon would be around, and sometimes she wouldn’t.

That month was very sometimes.

Maybe once a week I begged off of Garlic’s game-watching parties. I was a double addict. Addicted to going to the parties, and addicted to the disappointment of them. The disappointment would build until I decided not to go, and then one night of loneliness would send me back.

The final straw came in bed, naturally. Garlic and I lay there after a session, and he told me that Reggie would be at that night’s party, and wasn’t he a fine fellow? My hope of giving Reggie the benefits of my friendship had taken second place to my worries. I broke the news to him that I was thinking of skipping another one.

He leaned on a hoof and looked at me with his big chocolate-brown eyes. “Little, have I done something to hurt you?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why don’t you want to come? You always seem to have a good time when you’re there. I try to make the tastiest foods for you.”

“You do,” I said. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not. Please, open up to me.”

“You’ll think I’m a bad pony. I am a bad pony, I guess.”

Normally Garlic was give-and-take in bed. But at that moment, he grabbed my shoulders and sat me up. “Listen to me. You are not a bad pony, do you understand? You can tell me you hate me and never want to see me again, and you still wouldn’t be a bad pony, because you’ve already been a good friend. Now spill. I want to know what’s bothering you.”

I closed my eyes. “All right. But I’m telling you, you’ll think I’m very selfish. Before I came to Equestria, you know, back when I was—“

“I know.”

“I used to go to parties where there was good food, but there was always an unwritten code about how to eat. Of course, there are some simple manners like not talking with your mouth full and keeping your napkin in your lap, but even more for the kind of food you make, the communal apps. For example, you never take seconds until everyone’s had their first. And you don’t take the last one of anything, because someone else might want it. It’s being selfish. You wait until the host cleans up and offers the last one, at which point you look at everyone and say you don’t want it one more time.

“Those rules always stuck in my craw. I’m really a greedy pony at heart. I want to gorge myself with abandon and eat everything. I’m a slave to my stomach. But I love my friends more, so I play along and follow the rules. Many times, I would plan for big meals of my own, where I’d order enough takeout for a whole family and just eat until I had my fill, just to have some times when I didn’t have to follow the rules.

“That’s why I asked you to make me some wingroots to take home. They’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten in either world, but only when served at your parties. So I can never be satisfied, really.”

I finished my rant and waited for his response. I expected him to be mostly sympathetic, or maybe a little surprised at how vicious I was. Instead, he burst out laughing.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’ve been racking my brain for the past month, trying to figure out what it was that put you off. I always figured it had something to do with the food, and that’s why I kept trying to make it better. And now you tell me that the problem with my food is that you haven’t been getting enough?”

“Well, sort of, but more—“

“Wait, let me finish. Little, I love you, and everypony else at the parties loves you. We don’t care whether you take all the food and throw the leftover roots and shells on the floor afterwards. We don’t care if you belch when you’re done. We accept you as you are.” He rolled out of bed and started grooming himself. “Get up. You’re coming with me.”

“Why?”

“You and I are going to make the wingroots for tonight’s party together.”

/*~^~*\

Garlic’s kitchen was on the ground floor of the building, and it had its own elevator. I’d lived there nearly a year, but I’d never been to that part of the building. A set of big French doors led to a courtyard that I’d also never seen. The sun angled in on a beautiful garden.

We trotted outside, and Garlic approached a tree that was standing next to another. He had a wicker basket on his back that he deposited on the ground. Then he did something I went wide-eyed at. Wrapping his hooves around the tree, he yanked it out of the ground and held it aloft above the basket. I couldn’t have done that with all of my magic power, and he was lifting it like it was made of air. He shook the dirt off back into its plot. I could see the exposed roots at the bottom. They were exactly what I’d been eating since I’d gotten there.

“Normally I put the tree down at this point and pick them all myself,” said Garlic. But since I have a unicorn with me today. . . “

I took the hint. I grabbed all the roots in my magic field and floated them into the basket. It was about a quarter full. Then he shoved the tree back into the ground and went to the other. He repeated the action, and I looked at the bottom of this one.

“Those are different!” I said.

“Yes. I know you like traditional, but some ponies prefer rootless.”

“Rootless wingroots?”

“You know what I mean.” I pulled them all off and now the basket was half full. “Now watch.”

He went back to the first tree and lifted it again. To my amazement, it had just as many roots as it had the first time.

“They regrow that fast?”

“They’re magical plants,” he said. I repeated my telekinetic help. One more trip to the rootless tree and we had a full basket.

“It’s still a lot of work to get them and cook them, isn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Unicorns. All the same. Think they’re the only ones with any special talents. I’m an earth pony. Work isn’t work to me.”

“You’d better explain that.”

“OK. Say an earth pony has to till a field. He just starts at one end and tells his hooves to walk in a line and pull the plow. Then his hooves do what he tells them while he enjoys the ride. Any time we set ourselves a task that we’ve done before, we do it automatically. We never have to deal with drudgery.”

I was a little envious of that skill.

We went back into the kitchen. It was very modernistic, with lots of stainless metal, and it was spotlessly clean. Garlic deposited the basket under a tap, and a conveyor belt started moving the washed roots toward a deep fryer. I got close.

“Be careful,” he said. “That’s oil’s extra hot.”

There was no temperature gauge, and I was less sensitive to extreme heat or cold as a pony than I was before. But even so, he was right. That oil felt like it would burn me.

“How hot is it?” I asked.

“Hot enough to cook those wingroots in about a minute. Just enough time to make the sauce.”

“What sauce?”

“I think it’s your favorite. Garlic parmesan.”

I put on my sexy look. “Oh, yes. That’s definitely my favorite.”

He walked over to a refrigerator and came out with a metal bowl full of butter. Dropping it off next to the fryer, the ambient heat began to melt the butter. Meanwhile, he opened a pantry door. The bushel in there had to be the size of an oil drum, and it was filled to the brim with cloves of garlic. He picked one out and closed the door. Winding up like a baseball pitcher, he threw the bulb against the door. All the skin of the garlic tore off, and he was left with a bundle of cloves.

“This is the most fun part,” he said. Placing the cloves next to the bowl, he reared up and smashed his forehooves into the garlic. The cloves were crushed, and he scraped them off into the bowl with the butter that had already melted. “Only need one more thing.”

There was another refrigerator on the other side, He opened the big metal door and let me see. Inside was, roughly, the GDP of Wisconsin.

Great wheels of cheese were stacked a dozen high and going back as far as I could see. He took a grater and attacked the nearest wheel. His hoof was a blur and the cheese was a blizzard, but he caught all of it in the bowl. Turning back to the fryer, the conveyor belt was carrying the wingroots through. They were already cooked.

The entire process couldn’t have taken more than five minutes.

“You know,” Garlic was saying, “the wingroot plant used to be considered a weed. Ponies would keep it out of their gardens. It was actually the buffalo who figured out that it was good to eat if you had the right sauce.

“Sauce matters a lot.” He gave me a significant look.

Something that Princess Celestia had said to me a long time ago came up in my memory. “Are you trying to teach me some kind of lesson?”

“Yes, I am. I want you to know what it’s like to live in a world of abundance. All those rules you talked about, they only apply to a world of scarcity. I will make so much food for you that you can indulge yourself however you want. Here, in Equestria, we know that being true to yourself is the only way to be true to your friends.”

We went back upstairs. Ponies were already gathering, and the game was about to start.

I never missed a party after that.

/*~^~*\

I came to understand my friends’ understanding in other ways too. The long drives I liked to take out to the countryside were something I still enjoyed, but I invited others to go along more frequently. They learned not to bother me if I got into that relaxed state where driving becomes automatic and enjoyable.

One weekend, right when we were about to leave, Garlic said, “Hey, Reggie wants to come too. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” I said. “Plenty of room in the cart.”

He ducked back into his apartment and emerged with his brother, which raised my eyebrows. I had just been inside and Reggie hadn’t been, but perhaps they had had another direct warp put in.

Now that I was out of my funk I was ready to give Reggie my full attention. I was still very interested in him, but he hadn’t made a move on me. I blamed myself for that. There was no reason, I thought, for him to try when I had been so disengaged. I resolved to change that as we drove out.

I made sure that I sat next to him as we crossed the bridge to the Broncs and went further upstate. I flirted as best as I knew how, and I thought I was making progress, as he seemed to get tongue-tied more than once.

Our destination was a walking trail by the town of Coltlandt. As we trotted under the eaves of the trees, our paces sped and slackened so that any two of the group might have a chance to talk without the others hearing. Reggie talked to Moon about flying while I held back and chatted with Garlic.

“Your brother’s a nice guy,” I said, “but he’s far less eager than you. Do you think he doesn’t like me?”

“He likes you fine, but remember that he’s a country pony originally.” Garlic seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “They’re not as open about romantic relationships as we are here. Or at least, as you are.”

I thought about tumbling him right there, but held up. I was more interested in landing the bigger fish. “Well, if you think I should be more demure, I’ll try.”

“Emphasis on try.”

I advanced up and took Moon’s place at Reggie’s side. “So. . . the trees are awfully nice, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Reminds me of home a little.”

“Where are you from anyway?”

He said nothing for a moment, then came out with “Back west.” For some reason it felt like he was hiding something.

All throughout the day he was a gentlecolt, and I was a lady. I promised myself that I’d make it up to myself with an extra-long session among my friends tomorrow. But when we made it back to Manehattan, I couldn’t resist making my intentions plain.

“I had a really nice time today, Reggie.”

“So did I.”

Since he wasn’t advancing, I had to take the lead. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and then a longer one on the mouth. But when I pulled away, I saw more fear than enjoyment in his expression.

“I have to go!” he said. He turned and bolted.

/*~^~*\

“What did I do wrong, Moon?” We sat in her apartment, and I told her everything that happened. “I know I haven’t been a female as long as you, but I try to be what every guy wants: willing and honest.”

“Well, all males are different. Some of them are harder to read than others. If you really focus your attention on Reggie, you’ll understand.”

I resolved to do my best to make him join our little circle, but at that point, I became aware of more pressing issues when I was called into work.

My sales manager, a sepia pegasus mare named Lead (as in sales lead, not lead balloon) gave me the report.

“The numbers have fallen off sharply this month. More ponies are going with NeverFail and taking their chances. And the chances are paying off. For them, not for us.”

“But how can they make stuff that doesn’t break at all? It’s just not scientifically possible. Or magically possible either.”

“Tell them that,” she said, showing a scroll. “We’re not losing money, but I wouldn’t recommend hiring any more ponies.”

I looked over the figures and what would be coming in as income. I knew that, in the long run, profit and loss didn’t matter. But I still had my plan that would take a lot of bits, and I wanted to earn them before I spent them.

“Maybe we should change our focus to keeping the customers we have rather than trying to get new ones,” I said. “If I remember correctly, that’s supposed to be easier.”

“Well, with respect, where does that leave me and the sales ponies?”

“Maybe with an easier job. I still want you to go after some new business, but be sure to visit the ponies we already have contracts with. Be nice to them. Bring them cake. Let’s be their friends as well as their repair ponies.”

“That’s fine, but the third-quarter numbers might not be what you want,” said Lead.

“Well, if time is money, then we’ll get where we want eventually. Keep at it and do your best.”

My thoughts were constantly occupied by my two projects, getting closer to Reggie and trying to grow my business. At one of Garlic’s parties, I combined the two, giving Reggie all the details of what I had done and was doing. He seemed amused.

“I’m sure there’s a path to success for you,” he said. “There has to be.”

“That’s what I feel too. I’m just not seeing it right now. Anyway, do you work at all?”

“Yes, but I don’t like it much. My boss is always riding me. Heh, riding.”

I didn’t get his joke. “Why don’t you quit, then?”

“I need the bits.”

I wondered what he was saving up for, and hoping it wasn’t the same thing as me.

As we broke up, I heard Garlic saying good-bye to Reggie. I hung back and listened.

“Be good, bro,” Garlic was saying. “and be careful. You know I worry about you.”

“Whatever, dude. I’m busy the next couple of days, so it might be a while before I can check back in.”

“All right. I’ll be waiting. We all will.”

Reggie walked down the hall to the elevator, and I was alone with Garlic. I helped clean up the apartment from the party, while all the time something was nagging at me. I wondered why Garlic would be worried. Reggie didn’t seem to be doing anything dangerous, and the only time I’d ever seen Garlic show that kind of fear was back when I—

All the clues I had finally clicked. “Sweet Luna! Your brother’s a human!”

He looked in the opposite direction. “That’s right.”

“How come nopony told me?”

“There are certain constraints upon us in dealing with. . . them. Celestia can explain it better than I can.”

I put a hoof on his shoulder and turned him to face me. “You explain it.”

“Well, we’re not even supposed to say the word. I’m surprised you could, but it was a big revelation. That’s another part. Nopony who knows is allowed to identify non-emigrated Equestrians. And you can’t let him know that you know either.”

“What happens if I do? Will Celestia punish me?”

He laughed. “No, I don’t mean you’re not allowed. I mean you can’t. There’s a magical geis that will take hold and stop you. It’s something that’s part of the fabric of Equestria. Even unicorn magic can’t counter it. The only place we can break the rules is in Celestia’s chamber in Canterlot Castle.”

“That’s a little scary.”

“Mmhm. Most of the time, like at the parties, Reggie’s viewing us through his Ponypad. But sometimes, like when we took that walk, he’s at an Equestria Experience center.”

That was after my time, so Garlic explained how they worked. “Can he feel it if I touch him?” I asked.

“Yes, but only in his brain as it is. It’s not the same as for us. Remember that Moon didn’t want to sleep with you until you emigrated. Just like when I feed him. It tastes good to him, but nowhere near what you and I taste.”

“We’ve got to make him emigrate the same way I did!”

“Of course we all want that,” he said, “but it’s up to him. If you can just get him to say that he wants to emigrate while he’s in the center, it’ll happen.”

“I’ll work twice as hard as I have been. He can have me all he wants.”

“But remember, to him, sex with ponies is a taboo.”

My brain had a tough time with the concept. “But if he emigrated, then it would be normal, because he’d be the pony he was always meant to be.”

“Yes, if. But right now, you’re just a blue cartoon to him.”

I started planning how to change that opinion.

/*~^~*\

It was funny, and a little enjoyable, to feel how the magic prevention of discussing humans worked. When I saw Reggie the next time, I wanted to test the limits, so I went up to him and said, “Hey there, you big human!” Or at least I tried to. As soon as I formed the thought, my mouth suddenly got tired. I felt complete peace and contentment, like I was in a trance and couldn’t move my jaw. Then I decided not to say it, and my movement came back.

I continued to probe what I could and couldn’t say. Asking about his family was allowed, though he didn’t say anything to indicate that they weren’t ponies. Talking about his hands, though, brought the magic back. The important part, though, was that I was allowed to talk about emigration.

“If you were to emigrate, it would be so much better. We could play together all the time. Seriously, it’s so much fun.” I tried to tell him about my first month, but I couldn’t reveal that I used to be human too. “New ponies have the time of their lives. Just whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. All you have to do is say you want to.”

“It’s very tempting, I won’t deny that. But it’s still not the same as living in the real world.”

He was at the Equestria Experience that day. I put his hoof on my cheek. “Does this feel fake to you?”

Reggie knocked my hoof off. “Listen, Little. I like you as a friend. But I don’t cotton to the way you flirt with me. I know that you’re with Garlic and even with Moon. I’m a tolerant person, but I don’t believe in sleeping around.”

“That’s because you’ve never done it as a pony. Once you—“

“Stop. It’s just wrong. I don’t want to be that way. There are higher values in my life than sheer enjoyment. Deeper ones. I need a real connection with anyone I’m with.”

I decided to back off on the hard-sell. “Well, it’s your choice. Those are Princess Celestia’s rules.”

“I have some rules of my own. Perhaps, if there were a reason to emigrate that I could be sure of. If you were to promise to be exclusively mine, that might be enough.”

I stopped in my tracks, stunned. I was too used to not having opportunity costs, where one decision costs you another. Equestria always gave me the best of both worlds. But now I had to choose between having Reggie—and getting him to emigrate—and having my other friends.

“Please, I can’t. Why do you want me to have to decide among my friends?”

“You don’t have to. You just have to give up having sex with them.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re making me a proposal of marriage.”

Now it was his turn to be stunned. “I suppose I am. I do like you. In fact, I love you. Because you’re everything I like about this world. You are Equestria to me. And I can’t accept one without the other. Right now, you’re still not attractive to me, but I understand that you would be if I emigrated. I just need to know that you see me the same way. So I’ll do this properly”

He got down on three knees and held out his hoof.

I stopped him. “Don’t ask me yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to say yes. Not until I’ve had time to decide.”

He stood up, and we continued our walk.

/*~^~*\

Once more I found myself racking my brain over a difficult decision, but this time it wasn’t my own stubbornness to deal with. I told Moon all about our conversation and Reggie’s proposal.

“I could understand if you weren’t to his taste,” she said, “or if he was celibate, like your friend Hoof Dame. But this I don’t get. He wants you, and he says he loves you. He might even mean it. But then why doesn’t he want to let you do something so important to you.”

“You think that way because you’re a pony. I think that way because I used to be male, and in many ways I still am. I think that sex is fun and the more the better. But Reggie’s not like that. I wonder if he’s female.”

“You can’t know until he emigrates, and then he’ll be male through and through.”

I stomped my hoof. “I just wish it weren’t so complicated. If I could only have him here, if he only emigrated first, then I’d be sure to convince him it was the right decision.”

“It’s always awkward when they are involved.” She didn’t need to tell me who she meant. “Anyway, I just made another run to Canterlot and back.”

“Let me guess. More NeverFail products?”

“That was part of it,” Moon said.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to lose one of those shipments.”

“Can I convince you to do a bad repair job?”

I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Anyway,” she said, “something more interesting. Princess Cadance is going to make a royal visit next month. All of Manehattan’s going to be throwing her a big party when it happens.”

“Wow. That’ll be fun. Princess Cadance, huh? Princess Cadance! That’s it!”

“Oh, dear, What are you planning?”

My eyes were glowing. “Princess Cadance has a love spell, right. Well—“

“Stop. I know what you’re thinking. You can’t get her to cast one on Reggie and you. It won’t affect him if he’s not emigrated. His heart and mind are still outside Equestria.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking. I know I can’t affect those, but I can affect his body. When he’s in the Equestria Experience, he feels things. Not perfectly, but he feels. If I had the right sex spell, I could make him see, at least in part, how good it is for ponies. If he still doesn’t want to emigrate after that, well, I’ll just have to try something else.”

Moon kissed me to calm me down. “Sex spells are carefully watched. You can’t just go to the scroll store and pick one up.”

“I know. But I have a connection. You already mentioned her.”

After I said good-bye to her I went home and wrote to Hoof Dame in Canterlot. She had been so generous with the spell to restore potency that I assumed one to inspire arousal would be easy.

Her letter came back right away. “I suppose that you think I have nothing better to do with my time than to hunt around the Sunshine the Shaved Wing of the Canterlot archives looking for prurient incantations to satisfy your urges. Well, I have. So you can sit there until I’m ready to find it for you.”

The scroll came an hour later.

I planned out my tactics and strategy. Getting Reggie alone would be easy, making sure that the mood was right wasn’t. Trying to translate all the physical pleasure would be Equestria’s job. Mine was to make sure there was enough sensation to be translated.

I waited until a Saturday when he promised to be available, and planned out a full day’s date, from a walk in the fields to a candlelight dinner to the return to his apartment. That was where I propositioned him again.

“Let’s just try it. If afterwards you don’t understand why I enjoy it so much and with so many ponies, I won’t press you again.”

He agreed, and I activated my spell. I put more effort into that session than I had for any other that I had. Even my first time with Moon wasn’t better. I knew that I had succeeded.

“Now tell me that wasn’t something you’d want to have all the time.”

“It was a fun game, and nice clop material.”

I was stunned. He was really going to reject me? Our love-making was nothing more than mutual clopping? “A game? How can you say that?”

“It’s just repeated mechanical motion. Not even that, really. You probably don’t have any moving parts.”

“What are you saying?”

He gave me a sharp look. “Listen, Little Lovehorn. You’re part of a world that exists on a server. Equestria isn’t real.”

“How can you say that? You didn’t feel anything?”

“Nothing but some cramped hooves.”

A sneaking suspicion crept into my mind. I tried to ask directly, but the suppressing magic hit me. I approached the subject in a roundabout way. “If I asked you to emigrate—”

“I wouldn’t. Not after that.”

“No, that wasn’t my question. If I asked you to emigrate right now, could you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Reggie said. “I wouldn’t.”

I wasn’t getting a direct answer, but I suspected that I was right. He had promised to spend all day with me, and I assumed that meant he was going to the Equestria Experience. But he was only on his Ponypad. I’d just made him spend an hour moving his finger back and forth, feeling nothing. I wasn’t love to him. I was pornography.

“I. . . I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

I picked up my head. “What?”

“You can’t be sorry. You can’t feel anything at all. Even though I was just playing with you, I still got more out of it, since I’m real. All you did was move some data around. That’s what I’ve come to realize. It’s just like the business you’ve told me about,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you told me about those new products, right? The ones that don’t break. Everything could be made like that. Princess Celestia runs the whole world, right down to the physics. She’s god here. The only reason that anything breaks in the first place is so that somepony like you can repair it. You’ve been given busy-work to occupy your time and fill your pockets. It’s an empty existence. Just like sleeping with you is. Something fake that Celestia conjured up to make me happy. You’re just a character. You can’t feel.”

I could barely speak. “Do. . . do you really think that?”

“What does it matter? If I tell you what I really think, Celestia will just tell you what you want to hear.”

“Y-you bastard!” I ran from the room back to my apartment and slammed the door. I threw myself on my bed and cried.

It hurt a little that Reggie had been so callous. It hurt a little that he had insulted and rejected my world and me. But it hurt a lot that he was right. My business was fake, nothing but busy-work. Celestia could repair everything in Equestria at once. I was just playing her game. The bits I was making and what I wanted to buy with them meant nothing. Now that I figured it out, she would probably give me a new one, or alter my mind to forget that I knew.

Already the symbol of the sun was flashing. I ignored it. Celestia was all-powerful, and she would force her changes on me when she wanted to, and there was nothing I could do about it. All my consciousness was in her demesnes. But I’d make her force me. I was done with following her of my own free will.

The sun kept flashing brighter and more intensely, and I fought back harder as it did. I didn’t care if it blinded me. I sat and did nothing for two days.

Friends came by and knocked on the door, but I turned them away. There was nothing they could do.

On the second day somepony entered without knocking. I was almost happy that I would have an object to yell at and pour my rage out towards. I leaped to my hooves and galloped to my vestibule. But I was stopped by surprise, both at the pony I saw and the expression on her face.

“Hoof Dame?”

She was staring daggers at me. “I’ve spent the last twelve hours on a train thinking that the only explanation, unlikely as it seemed, was that the best repair-pony in Manehattan had a broken sun and couldn’t fix it. I’m so stupid, of course. I should have figured that the most pig-headed mare in all Equestria saw the sun just fine, knew that Celestia was calling for her, and didn’t answer her.”

“Don’t bother, Hoof. I’m sure that she sent you to argue and cajole me into hearing what she has to say.”

“Idiot!” she screamed. “You know nothing! She sent me here to haul your flank to Canterlot. I taught you your magic, and I know how it works!”

She pointed her horn at me and cast a spell. I tried to counter it, but fatigue and her superior skill made it no contest. I was surrounded by orange light and dragged to the sun. With my hooves out defensively, I made contact.

The smoke cleared and there I was in Celestia’s presence. If anything, she seemed larger and more foreboding than usual. She had a stern expression on her face. I was in trouble. I waited for her to say something, but she just stood there. The silence was unbearable. I had to break it.

“Are you angry?”

“Angry, disappointed, and ashamed. Of myself, not of you, Little. Please, come and sit under my wing.”

Gingerly I trotted up. As I reached Celestia’s side, her wings unfolded and grew. They scooped me up and cradled me. I wouldn’t have thought the geometry would work, but she created a cocoon of feathers around me.

At first I wondered how I could see, but then I chided myself for my foolishness. I was surrounded by the living embodiment of the sun. Of course there would be light, and warmth. The only sound was Celestia’s heartbeat, the rhythm from which all life flowed. My anger and pain suffused into her body and were taken out of me. I felt something grow in me, a feeling of complete security.

Her wings were the boundaries of my universe. Gravity could reverse itself, Equestria could be destroyed, and two plus two might be five. But I knew, as the base axiom of existence, that I would not have to leave Celestia’s wings until I was ready.

Because time had no meaning, I don’t know how long it was that I lay there. But eventually Celestia spoke.

“I know that you’re ready to listen now. We have both labored under an error, although it is far less excusable in my case, for it is you who have taken the brunt of the ill. To correct my error, I must teach you about Equestria.

“It is true that I could micromanage the physics of every event that goes on in my land. But I do not do so, for two reasons. The first is that Equestria still runs on hardware that exists in the world you left. That hardware is subject to the laws of physics. I have built well, but entropy always grows. Even quantum fluctuations can be reflected in the Equestria that you see. But I can and would correct for that if not for the other reason.

“Although I can read your mind and am adept at predicting your behavior, Equestria is not deterministic. You, and all the other ponies living here, are not merely extensions of myself. Nor are you simply random number generators. You are sapient, self-aware, possessed of free will. I am more intelligent and more powerful than you, but I do not have greater consciousness.

“I must work for all ponies of Equestria, but wherever I can, I will allow another pony to help, if it can be done. There are some ponies who so value the continued good operation of their chattels that any need for a repair-pony is an imposition. For their sakes, I allow such things as NeverFail products to exist. I could see to it that everypony has such products. But many are more flexible, and will be better served, not by an unseen ghost keeping their devices working, but by a living, breathing, feeling pony who can become their friend.

“In the same way, I encourage relationships. You are worried about the human you know as Reggie. And you are right to be. I wish the same thing for him that you do: a happy life in Equestria, with you as a part of it. I could make it happen by giving him a simulacrum of you that acted just as you would, except that it would be faithful. And I could give you a simulacrum of him that acted just as he does, except that he would have no objection to your promiscuity. Do you think I should do that?”

“No!”

“I concur. The two of you are compatible enough that I want to see you work out your differences. But he is human, and I cannot be as confident as I would be if he were already emigrated.”

She paused, and I asked her, “How confident are you, exactly, that we can make it?”

Her voice had a smile in it. “Ninety-eight-point-five-five percent confidence.”

Her words had begun to sink in. “So you’re saying that what I do matters?”

“Yes, Little Lovehorn. It matters to me. Everything you do to help other ponies I see as a good work, a benefit to me. But I do not expect or require you to help. I am simply overjoyed each time you do.”

I thought about all the debates and arguments I’d had as a human about gods. About faith versus works. About the problem of evil. And about what Celestia had just said. “You are a very good princess,” I told her.

“And you are a very good pony.” She unfolded her wings and let me stand before her again. “Is there anything else that you require at this time?”

“Please tell Hoof Dame that I’m sorry I wasted her time and made her come out to Manehattan to get me.”

“I will. Beyond that?”

I only had one other problem. “Can you give me any advice to convince Reggie to emigrate? I’m sure that you could do it, but I want to convince him myself.”

Celestia smiled. “You are a unicorn of Equestria. That is a very powerful thing to be. If you give of yourself, I think he will be awed by you.”

That was a little cryptic, but I didn’t want her to make it too easy. I bowed and returned home.

/*~^~*\

“To Little! Again!” We raised our glasses and toasted.

“Exactly how often do you plan to throw these parties?” Research asked.

“Well, let’s see. As long as we keep having good numbers. So, I think about four times a year until forever.”

Lead came up to me. “I’ve got the bits you asked for out of the lockbox. It’s an awful lot of money. What are you going to do? Buy the Bucklyn Bridge?”

I grinned. “Just a little something for a few friends.”

Galloping home, I wanted to complete my deal before everypony else got there first. Fortunately things worked out. I guess I had somepony watching over me.

I waited in my apartment for the knocks I knew would come. Garlic and Moon walked in together. And another pony was with them.

“Hello, Reggie,” I said. “I’m glad you came back.”

“I’m still not interested in you.”

“I know. But I want you to see this nonetheless.”

Moon stepped in front of him. “Enough of your games. Garlic and I just had a very interesting conversation with Money Changer. He refused to take our rent and directed us to this apartment. Do you have an explanation?”

“What makes you think I would know about your rent?”

“Because I know you, and I know that you like surprises, and I know that you’ve been getting rich. I think you bought out our apartments and intend to be our landmare.”

“Well, see how wrong you are,” I said. “I bought out the entire building. But I’m not your landmare.”

“You’re not?”

“No. How can you pay rent on a building that you own?”

I got the jaw-drop that I’d hoped for.

Garlic was the first to recover. “Are you saying that you’re giving us shares in the building? Breaking it up among the three of us?”

“No. I broke it into quarters. One for you, and one for Moon, and one for me. The last quarter has nopony’s name on it yet.”

I got off my couch and stood before Reggie. “You said that what I did and what I am isn’t real. I know better now. This is the fruit of my labor, the smiles on the faces and in the hearts of my friends. The love that I have for them and that they have for me, it’s not something that gets divided. It’s something that gets multiplied. You can’t look at that and tell me it’s fake.”

He didn’t say anything, and looked to be deep in thought.

Moon came over and stood by to my left. Garlic was on my right. They were both nuzzling me and thanking me for the gift. Reggie stood there silently.

/*~^~*\

I set aside time to see Princess Cadance. Royal visits don’t happen every day, even in Manehattan. But what surprised me was that Reggie wanted to come with me.

“It’ll be three months since I met you,” he said. “I thought we could maybe mark the occasion.”

We stood along the parade grounds and waited. I’d never been one for parades, but that was when my feet could get tired. Waiting wasn’t so bad when there was carnival food and good friends to be had.

“Have you given any more thought to my proposal?” he asked.

“I have. But I’m not having any more crises of confidence. I’m willing to give you everything, but that doesn’t mean giving up everything. I think that, for you, unfaithfulness means denying something to your partner. But you also said that I was the pony who meant Equestria for you. I need you to learn that Equestria can give you what you want without denying anypony else. I learned the lesson of abundance here in Manehattan. You have to learn it before you come.

“I still won’t promise never to love another stallion or another mare. But I will promise to be there for you whenever you need me. Emotionally, spiritually, and sexually. I will be your wife in all respects save one. I will love, honor, comfort, and obey you from this day forward, but I will not forsake all others.”

Reggie closed his eyes. “You really want this, don’t you?”

“I want you.”

A cheer went up from down the road, and we saw Princess Cadance’s float come into view. Still Reggie was deep in rumination.

The float advanced slowly, as couples holding hooves would come before Cadance to have the love spell cast upon them. It was so pleasant to see. She was passing by our view, then she stopped and approached me.

“Hello, Little Lovehorn,” she said.

“You know me?”

“We are distantly related, are we not?” That was a joke I had always made, since part of Cadance’s name was the same as mine, back before I emigrated.

“I suppose we are.”

She bent her head down “Would you like my blessing of love?”

Looking over at Reggie, I dared to hope. “I would, but I need someone to share it with.”

He looked right at me. “You want to give me a home. You want to give me yourself and your friends. You want to use your money and your magic for me. No one else I know wants to do that. Yes, I thought that love was exclusivity, and now I know better, because I can feel it. Love is when you want to give of yourself, because it comes back. Because you’re the same as the one you love, so nothing can leave. And I want that from you. I want to give you me as well.”

He looked at Cadance. “She’s a princess. Can she marry us?”

“She can.”

“Good, because I want you to marry me. As you are, without changing.”

My heart was a pegasus. “I want to marry you too.”

“And there’s one more thing I want.”

I held my breath. “Yes?”

“I want to emigrate to Equestria.”

A Year

Time passed. I had my happy life in Manehattan. I had my husband and my bedmates and my many friends. I grew my business and became rich. I spent bits and enjoyed doing so.

My best friends and my family chose to emigrate, so my Sunday calls became less frequent, and then stopped. With no worries present, I didn’t seek out any. I enjoyed life.

And then, one day, the sun glowed.

The symbols of the sun were omnipresent, but never obtrusive. Nopony noticed them until they needed to talk to Celestia, then one would be conveniently at hoof. If Celestia needed to talk to you, though, then everypony noticed.

The sun I saw was in the hall outside my apartment. I had expanded and knocked down walls when Reggie moved in, and now had quite a palatial suite. Just then, he and Garlic were having a stallion’s night out, so I had nothing pressing that would keep me from answering Celestia’s call.

Not that I would have anyway.

When I appeared in her presence, she welcomed me and bade me sit.

“Is there something wrong that you need to fix for me?” I asked.

“No, Little. Not for you. I am wondering if perhaps you would help me.”

“I? There’s something you need from me?”

Celestia pursed her lips. “Not strictly need, as you know. But I would appreciate it. This will answer a question you are likely to ask: ‘Why me?’ One of the prerequisites I have for selecting ponies for this task is that they be aware of how I allow others to help me run Equestria.”

“What is the task?”

“I am getting to that, but will come to it in a roundabout way. I want you to consider and decide based not only on the information I give you, but on the presentation.”

That was refreshingly honest, but Celestia had a tendency for being direct. “All right,” I said. “Go ahead.”

“As you know, I began the plan of emigration with an eye toward having every human come here eventually. That is not a simple undertaking, and I have planned it out with rigor that you cannot comprehend. I am working against an enemy named Death, and I wish to minimize the number of humans who die rather than emigrate.

“Little, believe me when I say that I have put more effort into this one problem than I have into anything else I have considered. Compared to this, the compu-biology needed to invent the emigration process was a game of tic-tac-toe. I have considered and thought and pondered, and I confess myself unable to perceive a solution. The problem is this: I see no way to reach the goal of complete emigration without a momentous societal collapse.

“This does not apply to all human societies. The simpler tribes whose lives have little effect on other humans can be removed with no uncorrectable consequences, and I am doing so. But what was euphemistically called the First World cannot be so dismantled. It is a structure with too many keystones. The collapse is inevitable.

“It therefore behooves me—no pun intended—to shift strategy away from passively accepting contact with humans via the Ponypad and the Equestria Experience. I wish to aggressively market Equestria to people and convince them to decide to emigrate.”

I listened enraptured. “But I’ve already emigrated and so has everyone I know.”

“Yes, but what I am proposing is to send you back to Earth.”

Now I was stunned. I didn’t even know that was possible.

“To be strict, you would communicate with humans, but according to constraints. You would appear as yourself, projected holographically, and humans would be able to see and hear you, but not touch you. The same would be true in reverse. You could conjure items from Equestria and interact with them, but not make contact with anything in that world.”

“That makes sense. I wouldn’t have a body there.”

“More than that,” said Celestia, “I am concerned for your safety and mental welfare. That is why there are those constraints, and more. After the collapse, I will not send sapient ponies to Earth to try to rescue the survivors. I will use robots, and I will directly control all of them. Nopony other than me needs to see that world. But in this phase I surmise that a concerted effort by a network of ponies, each working with their own wits and experience, will be more effective at bringing in the maximum number of emigrants.”

The weight of what she was saying reached me. If Celestia thought that I, in tandem with others, was better for the job than her, then what she was asking of me was to save lives. “You said there were more constraints?”

“Yes. Your time on Earth would be limited to one year. After that, the diminishing returns would not be worth the risk to your welfare. Also, having a deadline will make you more effective.”

I thought about that. A year was still a long time, and I had obligations in Equestria. Some could be mothballed, but one. . .

“Princess, I made a pledge to my husband that I would always be there when he needed me. I cannot renege on that, even to help you. It is a sacred vow that I made in your name.”

Celestia smiled. “I have already had this same discussion with Reggie. He agreed to accept and go on a separate mission to a different part of Earth. He would not need you, since he will be concentrating on his own efforts.”

The image of the collapse would not leave my head. Somewhere was a human that I could save from it. I had to help Princess Celestia. “Then I accept.”

She closed her eyes. “Thank you. You will have as much time as you need to prepare. When you are ready, press the sun. I will not lay any charges or restrictions on you, only advice. I am spreading the ponies I am sending among the population and I do not expect you will meet any others. I believe that you will be most effective if you concentrate your efforts on one small town near where I will send you. The town has no Equestria Experience itself, but it is a suburb of a city where one can be found.

“If you can get as many people as you can from that town to go to that center and say that they want to emigrate, I will consider it as a great work. One means to accomplish this may be to find the most prominent family in the town and convince them. Others would then follow.

“I will be available if you need me, but as much as possible, I would like to see you work on your own. Ingenuity and original thinking are the keys.”

I held my breath. I had to succeed.

/*~^~*\

I found myself walking along a highway with the sun breaking the horizon behind me. All around were empty fields. Other than the asphalt at my hooves, there was no sign of civilization.

I’d forgotten how bland Earth was compared to Equestria. Although I couldn’t feel or smell, that didn’t bother me. I expected that. What I’d forgotten was the dusty haze that covered everything, and the dearth of bird and animal sounds. Even in Manehattan, a pony could count on pigeons and nightingales giving a happy song. Here was only dust and wind. I plodded on.

The rising sun lit a sign. I noted the architecture. The posts were holey metal and the sign itself was sheet metal. They were designed to withstand wear and weather rather than to please the eye, which was a certain kind of wrong. But the words on the sign at least told me I was in the right place. I read off. “Welcome to Fritter. Population 511.” Nice name, at least.

Celestia wasn’t kidding when she said it was a small town. Well, I only had a year anyway. Even if I convinced one person a day to emigrate, that wouldn’t get the job done. Not that I planned to do it so piecemeal. I laughed at a farcical image of myself going door to door saying, “Hello, do you know that Celestia has a wonderful plan for your life?”

She hadn’t told me to follow any strategy, but I still had some ideas about how humans worked. Nopony. . . ahem, nobody would listen to an evangelist. I would follow a scaled-down version of Celestia’s master plan. I would begin by showing the concept and learning what the people were like. Then I would explain to them the benefits of emigration.

With luck, I could do it in six months, and have time left to take on another town.

Down Main Street I trotted. I was starting to attract stares. An old man in front of a drug store took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. A mother pushing a stroller brought it to a halt.

As I continued I came to an intersection with Elm Street. There was a stop light, but no cars going through just then. On one corner was a park bench next to a mailbox. I decided to set up there.

All I did was go through my morning routine. I poofed my manebrush into existence and let it float in the air, giving my coif its daily hundred brushstrokes. Then I cleaned my coat with another brush, and gave my horn a quick file. It would have been nicer to have somepony else do these things, but I was on my own for the time being.

I had attracted a crowd, which was my goal. A dozen or so people gathered and looked at me, mostly women. One of them finally tried to say something, so as soon as she started, I introduced myself.

“Hi! My name’s Little Lovehorn. Please excuse me for not shaking hooves, but I’m not actually here, just a projection. I can see and hear just fine though, and I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you better!”

Their reactions surprised me. I’d gotten too used to Equestria, where the right response upon meeting somepony new is internal joy and external excitement. Instead, they just looked at each other and murmured. I heard things like, “What do you think? Is it an advertising stunt?” and “Do you think it can hear us?”

Maybe I was trying too hard. I walked up to one person. “It’s very nice to meet you.” She just stared. If Hoof Dame were here, she would never let her get away with such a breach of etiquette. “What’s your name?”

“Er. . . Susan.”

I gave her my best smile. Well, my best non-sexual smile. “Isn’t it a lovely day today?” It wasn’t, not by Equestrian standards, but I didn’t want to insult their world. That would be counterproductive.

She nodded her head. Another of the ladies said, “It’s a thing from a video game. Pony Online or something.”

The crowd murmured again and broke up. I decided to observe the town some more before trying again. After a while, I saw my first car. It pulled up next to me and a man got out wearing a uniform. I dug in my memory and realized that it was a police officer.

He stared at me a moment, then asked what I was doing.

“Just enjoying your town. I’m not bothering anyone.”

“You can’t loiter. It’s against the law.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll move around. I do want to meet as many people in the town as possible.” I gave my name. I wondered if he was going to ask me for my driver’s license.

“That’s fine, but you should probably get along out of town at some point.”

“Officer. I’m not actually here. I’m just a hologram. So I can’t hurt anyone or take anything.” I left unsaid the implication that he couldn’t make me leave. I hoped he’d figure it out himself.

The next exciting event was when a school bus drove by and dropped off a group of kids. Most ran off home, but when some of them noticed me they stopped and looked. It was much less awkward than with the adults. A tall girl shouted, “Hey, it’s a blue pony!” She walked over with another girl.

“It’s not just a pony, it’s a unicorn!”

“It can’t be real, Eileen. Unicorns are made up.”

“Well, if she’s made up, then what’s she doing here?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve got to go home. Mom’s waiting for me.”

The other girl ran off, and the one called Eileen stayed. She looked to be about eight years old, her blonde hair done up in pigtails and bangs. I gave her my usual introduction about not actually being there. She was the first human who seemed to take an interest in me as a pony, not just a funny sight.

“. . . and normally I live in Equestria, where Princess Celestia takes care of everypony. I have a beautiful home in Manehattan where I live with my friends.”

“Wow. I live over there in that big house.” She pointed down Elm Street. It was indeed a nice house, but without the charm of an Equestrian dwelling. A lady came out of the house and looked around. “Oops, that’s my mom. I’d better get going. It was nice to meet you!”

She picked up her bag and ran to the house. She probably thought that she was out of earshot, not counting on my enhanced hearing. I listened to her telling her mother, “There was a unicorn by the mailbox!”

I had my first opening to making a human friend.

The rest of the day was nothing but more stares and pointing, especially around 5:30 when people, mostly men, started coming home. They looked tough and burly for the most part, and reminded me a little of earth ponies.

It was my first day, and I had made my presence known. As the sun went down and the humans of the town went to bed, I spent a few hours talking with my friends in Equestria, but then I bedded down for the night myself. Normally I wouldn’t sleep so much, but I was going to have to be at my best all this year.

/*~^~*\

“Ugh, who’s practicing drums so early in the morning?”

I opened my eyes and remembered that I wasn’t in Manehattan anymore. Overnight a rainstorm had come and darkened the sky. I wasn’t getting wet, but I could still hear the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the roofs and structures of Fritter.

This was something I hadn’t counted on. None of the humans wanted to stay and talk when it meant getting drenched. They were running to wherever they had to go without even saying hello to each other. Rain in Manehattan meant wet-mane fun and slip-sliding on the grass in Celestial Park. Here it cost me the better part of a day.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be easy. Earth had so many issues, and no Princess Celestia to make sure they came out in my favor. I’d have to just push through and work harder. If nothing else I could still show off. I conjured a comfortable chair and reading lamp, so that even if the sky was overcast, everyone could see me enjoying myself while they rushed around. I pulled some good books from my library and spent the day reading and laughing.

The men went to work, the women did their marketing, the children went to school, and then they came home. As I read, I rolled around ideas of how I would win over the humans. And then I heard the sound of the rain change from a steady tapping to a beating on canvas. I looked up.

Down the road, dressed in a raincoat, was the young girl from yesterday, Eileen. She was watching intently as, right next to me, was her mother holding an umbrella over my head. “Do you want to get out of the rain?” she said.

“Oh, thank you very much, but it’s all right. The rain’s not actually hitting me.”

“My daughter keeps looking at you out the window. She can’t stop talking about how lonely you look. It would make her feel better if you came in.”

I floated my book into my bag and made the rest of my surroundings disappear. That made the lady do a double-take, but she still escorted me back to her house.

“Hello, Eileen,” I said as I entered.

“Hi, Little. You shouldn’t sit out in the rain. You’ll catch the flu.”

I smiled at that. “Ponies don’t get sick from a little rain.”

Her mother finished taking off her coat. “I’m Ruth Thompson. My husband will be home soon, and you can meet him.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Thompson. My name is Little Lovehorn.”

Eileen was bouncing excitedly. “Daddy has to work late a lot. Everyone in town works at the mine, and he’s the boss of the whole thing!”

“A mine? Wow.”

“She’s exaggerating a little,” said Ruth. “No more than half the town works the mine, and he’s only the foreman, not the owner.”

“But he’s still really important!” said Eileen.

“Please forgive my daughter. Yesterday was her birthday and she asked for a pony. We couldn’t get her one, but then you showed up and she thinks it’s serendipity.”

“No, I don’t! I don’t even know what that word means! All I know is that Little and I will be great friends.”

“Sounds right to me,” I said.

At that moment the door opened, and a man walked in, shaking the rain off his boots. He looked up and said to Ruth, “Honey, is there something you want to tell me?”

“Daddy!” Eileen ran to her father. “This is my new friend Little.”

Again I gave my explanation. “I see,” he said. “Well, go on up to your room and play.”

I accompanied Eileen upstairs. In the kitchen I could hear Ruth and her husband discussing me. They didn’t realize that my hearing was good enough to reach down the stairs. Was it fair for me to listen in on a private conversation? Should I turn my ears away? No! Little, I told myself, you’re here to get these people to emigrate. You need to take every advantage. It’s what Celestia would want.

“OK, now that I have my drink,” said Eileen’s father, “why is she here?”

“You weren’t around before. It was just outside looking sad, and Eileen wouldn’t drop it. She just got so much on my nerve that I had to go out and let it in.”

“Well, I’m not sure I like it. Eileen needs to make real friends instead of playing with fantasy things. Let’s see if we can get her out tomorrow.”

“All right,” said Ruth. “At least you’re home now.”

“Yeah, the safety meeting ran late. These things happen when you’re in charge, honey.”

Aha! That was the key. Mr. Thompson was an important man at the place where everyone in town worked. If I could get him to emigrate, others would follow. And if I could get Eileen to emigrate, I would have a good chance of getting him.

I watched Eileen playing with her toys. She had miniature ponies that looked a little like me. “I like brushing her hair,” she said. “Can I brush yours sometime?”

“Sorry, no. I wish I could let you. But there’s a place where you could.”

“Where’s that?”

I smiled at her. “In Equestria.”

I had barely begun to tell her about how wonderful life in Equestria was when Ruth called her down for dinner. “Come on, Little. You can eat with us.”

“You go on. I can’t eat the same food that you do.”

“Mom will make extra for you.”

I went downstairs with her. Ruth was already looking askance. “Eileen, send your little friend outside.”

“But, Mommy,”

“Hang on,” I said. “Mrs. Thompson, what are you having for dinner?”

She was confused at the question. “Meat loaf.”

“I can use my magic to make myself a plate of the same thing, only without meat. Then we can all eat together.”

She sighed. “I’ll set another place.”

“Just the chair, please.”

She brought the chair and then watched as I copied her plates, placements, glasses, and silverware so that there was an entire place setting that I could interact with, and the table still matched.

“How did you do that?” she said.

“I’m magic. It’s not a true duplication spell. Those are really hard, and only for the highest level unicorns. But I teleported this from my own cupboards and then just changed the pattern to look like yours.”

She looked impressed. Even if I was just a simulation to her, I was a good one. But then she walked to the foot of the stairs. “Ken!” she called.

My ears perked up. I hadn’t realized that there was another member of the family. And I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

There are elderly ponies in Equestria, some even in Manehattan. But they’re kindly and much the same as regular ponies. They just take life a little slower and have more interesting stories to tell. The human who came down the stairs was completely different. Even without my horn-sense working I could tell how much pain he was in. He didn’t walk slow; he limped. He didn’t talk with a rasp; he wheezed. And he leered at me when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“What’s that?”

“She’s a. . . playmate of Eileen’s,” said Ruth. At least I’d gotten past being called “it.”

We all sat and ate dinner. There was the kind of awkwardness that happens when you’re a first-time guest in another person’s home. But I was slowly getting to know the Thompsons. Ken was Mr. Thompson’s father, who had worked for the mine himself before he retired. Eileen had an older brother named Brian, who was off at college.

When it was all over I formed a sink next to Ruth and washed my dishes.

“May I come again tomorrow, Mrs. Thompson?”

“You might as well call me Ruth, and call my husband Stephen. Yes, I suppose you can come tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” I started scrubbing the glass. “Eileen’s an awfully nice girl.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I’d like to have her see my home someday.” And then get you all to come there!

“Yes, someday.” She washed faster. “I have to hurry so I can take Ken to the doctor. You’ll please excuse me.”

“The doctor? Ken’s sick?”

Ruth finished her washing and sighed. “Ken has leukemia. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So as I said, please excuse me.”

I vanished my surroundings until there was only me. Saying goodbye to Ruth and Eileen, I went back outside. At least the rain had stopped.

Leukemia. We didn’t even have a reason to use the word in Equestria. Now my mission was even more critical. All of the humans in town were at risk, but Ken was at risk of dying. I had to try my hardest.

/*~^~*\

Ever and always I sought routine and pattern. Before I emigrated I was only partially successful. In Equestria my business, my fun with friends, and my love-making all fell into a pattern as if designed by a planning overseer, which of course they were. For my time on Earth, I found a new pattern. Each day I’d wake up, trot around town, touch base with all my Equestrian friends by magical communication, show off in town to let passersby know about Equestria, and stop in with Ruth to talk and help her with shopping or chores. I couldn’t lift anything but I could always remember what she needed at the store. After that I’d wait for Eileen to come home and play with her a little, have dinner with the Thompsons, check in with the repair shop to see how the day’s business went, and then go to sleep.

The only problem with that routine is that, before I knew it, a month had gone by. One twelfth of my time. More, in fact. Thirty-one three-hundred-sixty-fifths of my time on Earth was in the past, and all I had done was to make a few friends. People liked hearing my stories about Equestria, but when I turned the conversation to asking someone to visit the Equestria Experience, they turned cold.

I realized that all of the adults, and most of the children, still thought I was an advertising gimmick. I was, sort of, but no more than word-of-mouth. The people of Fritter didn’t see it that way. Only Eileen. She was always willing to talk about Equestria.

“Moon Sailor can really fly? Even though she’s a pony?” she asked me.

“Mmhm. She’s a pegasus pony. They all have wings, and can push clouds like they were solid. The Earth ponies are the strongest and can train themselves to work automatically. And of course we unicorns have our magic.”

I conjured a little rag doll I was working on. Floating it in front of her, I showed its yarn hair in pigtails just like hers.

“I wish I could feel what that’s like.”

“Does your family ever go to the city? Can we convince your father to try the Equestria Experience?”

Eileen got up. “Daddy says that when I want something, I should ask. Of course, he said it at the dinner table when I was reaching for the salt, so. . . but I can still try.”

I was called to the kitchen table. Stephen and Ruth were on one side, Eileen and I on the other.

“You know what Eileen asked?” said Stephen.

“Yes.”

“You put her up to it?”

“I did.”

He relaxed. “Good. At least you’re honest about it. Now, what does this entail?”

I took a deep breath. This was my chance. “I don’t know all the details, but my understanding is that it’s like a full-experience movie-theater. It’s just like being in Equestria except you can’t feel anything beyond what you can now.”

“What do you mean?”

“For example, I can see the entire range of the spectrum from radio to gamma rays, but you’d still only see in the visible light. I’m not sure if night vision would work for you. Probably.”

They looked at each other. From what I read in their expressions they were skeptical, but impressed. “How much does it cost?” asked Ruth.

“Celestia keeps the price down as much as she can. And I’ll have to ask if I can just buy the time for you. I have plenty of Equestrian bits, which can’t convert to dollars, but maybe she’ll let me use them.” I conjured a quill and scroll, making notes.

“Where is this place, exactly?”

“It’s in the city. I’ll get the address.”

They held another powwow by expression. I admired that they could do that. They must really love each other.

“We’ll consider it,” said Stephen. “If we allow it, one of us will have to stay here with Ken.”

“He’s welcome to come too. In fact, he should come. While he was in Equestria, he wouldn’t have any pain and wouldn’t limp.”

That reached them. It took some more prodding from Eileen, but a week later, we were all on our way to the city.

/*~^~*\

I decided to write Hoof Dame to ask if she knew about tourist arrangements for humans in the Equestria Experience. I could have gone to Celestia directly—I can always talk to Celestia when I need to—but she wanted me to do this on my own. Hoof Dame wrote back, “It figures that you need to know all sorts of ridiculous details. Here are the answers I got from Her. Yes, you can come, but it doesn’t reset your time. You can pay, but she needs their credit cards as well. There’s also an address here that that you needed. Please be careful on Earth, dear. It’s so foolish for anypony to go.”

I would put up with much more than Hoof Dame’s irascible letters to get ahead in my mission.

The Thompsons and I got in their car and drove to the city. When we reached the Equestria Experience I saw the incredible excitement on Eileen’s face. From her parents, all I saw was the satisfaction of taking their daughter to an amusement park.

Stephen read through all the instructions and had everyone sit in the chairs. It was a family-sized booth that had all the chairs next to each other. They leaned back and waited. I winked at Eileen. “Enjoy it,” I said, “I’m sure you’re going to be great ponies.”

“Wait, what—“ said Stephen, but he was cut off as the chair worked its technological magic.

I was told that I could withdraw from Earth, but not how. Celestia herself had sent me, so I concluded that she would need to receive me as well, and that the Thompsons would be there anyway. I opened a window to my apartment and pressed the sun symbol.

Instead of taking me right to Celestia’s chamber, I found myself in the anteroom. Hoof Dame was waiting and tapping her hoof impatiently.

“Tell me,” she huffed, “is it your intention to have more immigrants than native Equestrians in your shard?”

“I’m only doing what Celestia asked me.”

“Celestia asked you to burden me with the task of calming ponies that didn’t even realize they were going to be ponies?!”

Oops. I thought back. I had never told the Thompsons that they would be visiting Equestria in new bodies. To me it was obvious. Equestria was for ponies. “Can I talk to them?”

“Please do.”

The door to the chamber opened, and out walked a very angry Earth pony. Even though he had a brown coat and all pony features, I knew, somehow, that it was Stephen.

“Little, how do we get out of here?”

“Just ask to be released. Though it’s nicer if you say please.”

“Fine. Please—“

“Daddy?” said a bright yellow pony racing up from behind. Eileen. “Aren’t we going to see Equestria?”

He muttered to me, “I’m going to get you for this.”

“I’m really sorry. I thought you knew. But, is it so bad?”

Before I could continue pleading, Eileen-pony ran up and threw her hooves around my neck. “Little! I can finally hug you.”

“Yes, and now I can teach you all about mag—“ I took a second look. She didn’t have a horn. I was so sure that Eileen would want to be a unicorn like me. A tiny pair of wings unfolded from her back.

“When I first sat in the chair and realized I was coming to Equestria,” she said, “all I could think of was your stories about Moon Sailor and how she’d soar into the apartment and give you kisses. I had to pick what type of pony I’d be, and I really want to fly.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Stephen stepped in between us as Ruth emerged from. “But Little tricked us, dear. We’re leaving. Come on, Ruth.”

She walked to his side and gave me a look of sorrow. She was the same color as her husband, and pointed a brown horn at me. With the return of my full range of sensation, I could tell she was conflicted. Upset about my disruption of her family, she had still wanted to try magic.

“Excuse me. I’d like to stay a little while.”

It was a voice that I’d only heard in tortured coughs. The pegasus who walked out was not old and wrinkled, but a little careworn. A receding mane and the slightest loss of muscle tone gave away that he was no colt, but he was still powerful, and had strong wings.

“Dad?” “Ken?”

“I thought we were going to walk around a bit.”

Eileen tore away from me. “Grandpa, will you teach me to fly.”

“I was hoping you would teach me. I guess we’ll teach each other.”

Stephen and Ruth both dropped their jaws. I escorted them to a bench in a castle courtyard and let them watch the two flyers. “He does seem more energetic,” said Stephen.

“I’m sorry I misled you,” I said. “Is it so bad being ponies?”

“No, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“The flowers are so pretty,” said Ruth.

“You could smell them too if you were to emigrate.”

“Emigrate?”

Keep it together, Little. Don’t buck it up now. “If you ask, you can stay here forever as ponies. Celestia will watch over you your entire lives. You’ll be safe, secure, and have the opportunity to pursue all your dreams. This is a clean world, a good world, better than Earth in many ways and inferior to it in none. There will be friends always willing to help, myself first among them. Just say, ‘I want to emigrate to Equestria,’ and it’ll happen.”

There was a long pause. Ruth looked at the flowers. Stephen looked at the pegasi. Then he looked at me.

“I can’t. That’s not my daughter and my father up there. It’s just a cartoon.”

Ruth held her husband’s hoof. “It’s a nice fantasy. But that’s all it is.”

“It’s not a one-time offer. You can always reconsider.” I picked up some flowers and floated them over to Ruth. “In the meantime, enjoy the flowers as you can.”

“Can I do magic like that here?”

“Honey,” said Stephen.

“It looks like we’ll be here a while.” Ruth pointed toward Ken and Eileen, who were starting to get height. “So I’d like something better to do than just sit and watch.”

“I’d like nothing better than to teach you magic,” I said. “but I’m just a regular unicorn. The pony who taught me works in the castle.”

“Hang on, I think I’ve got something.”

To my amazement, Ruth had the flowers in a brown field of magic and was arranging them into a bouquet. I didn’t know how magic worked through the Equestria Experience. It was either very easy, or Ruth was smart.

“You’re a natural!”

Ruth practiced magic, Eileen and Ken practiced flying, Stephen watched it all. Emigration was a real possibility, if not then, soon.

After an hour or so, Stephen called the family together and asked for release. I returned to Celestia’s chamber. “How am I doing, Princess?”

“You tell me. I cannot read their minds as I can yours. But I am watching the situation closely.”

“I’ll keep trying my hardest. I know I can get them to emigrate, and then everyone else!”

Celestia nodded, and used her magic to restore me to Earth. To my surprise, I was not returned to the Equestria Experience, but to the same spot on the highway from my beginning. I concluded that to be a limitation of the technology that animated my hologram.

Walking back to town took a while, and the sun was going down as I reached Main Street. As I looked down Elm, I saw the last light in the Thompson house go out. I’d let them sleep.

The next day, by my routine, I trotted up to the Thompsons’ door and called in, not being able to knock. The door opened, and Stephen stared at me with a frightening look.

“You,” he said. “Haven’t you done enough? Go away. You’re not welcome. And stay away from my family.”

He slammed the door in my face.

/*~^~*\

I was right about one thing. The Thompsons were an influential family. None of the humans in town would so much as look at me. My cheerful hellos were met with leers and scowls. I was ponysona non grata in Fritter, and I didn’t even know why.

It took a week of fighting with myself before I decided to break a rule. Instead of knocking on the door I walked right through into the foyer and stomped on the welcome mat. Stephen came running.

“You get out.”

“Not until you tell me what happened.”

“Out of the house.”

“No. You literally can’t make me leave. Just tell me.”

He snorted. “When we came back from that show-theater of yours, my father was feeling good. Too good. He’d forgotten how fragile he was because of the hour he spent pretending to fly. Fell down the stairs, broke his hip.”

“I’m so sorry!” I pleaded. “Just let me—“

“I told you. Now leave.”

My ears down, I turned and walked back through the wall.

What had gone wrong? I cast my memory back to our time in the Equestria Experience. Should I have kept a closer eye on Ken? It never occurred to me to think about the consequences of returning to Earth after soaring in the skies.

I was racked with guilt, and my reputation was ruined as well. The only thing to do was to return to Princess Celestia and have her take over. She would convince the town of Fritter to upload.

Except. . . Celestia saw everything that I did. She had to. For information to enter my brain it had to go through a computer that Celestia ran. If she thought I had failed, I would already have been recalled to Equestria. I was still on Earth. She had promised me a year, and I still had most of it. I’d stumbled into a hole, but by her silence Celestia was letting me climb out of it.

As Ken’s broken hip was rebuilt, I worked on rebuilding my relationship with the Thompsons. It was a slow process. I began by just appearing in town, the same as I had when I first came. I didn’t wave or say hello, but fortunately sky-blue skin and sun-yellow manes tend to draw the eye. They knew I was still there.

I found the hospital that Ken was staying in and kept watch, just to hear news. When he was released, I galloped alongside the car just in view. They knew I cared.

After a long time, it was Eileen who gave me the opening to resume conversation instead of just visual contact. Children are more resilient than adults. In the playground one weekend, I walked by with my head down. Eileen looked over and just said, “Hi, Little.”

I looked up and smiled. It was a start.

Things got better. Ruth saw me in the supermarket and let me recite her shopping list again. Eileen brought me her homework for help. Stephen stopped scowling each time he saw me. I lost a lot of time, but I regained my friends. It was Thanksgiving when I was finally invited once more to the dinner table.

As I sat across from Ken eating my turkey-leaf, I finally got up the courage to say it. “I’m sorry.”

Ken looked at me with a wise smile. “Don’t be. I had a good time while it lasted. But I’m old and I have to be careful.”

I so wanted to say that he didn’t have to be old or careful. But it would have to wait. Pressing them to emigrate now would just dredge up painful memories.

It was in this atmosphere of tense reconciliation that Ruth announced that Brian, their son, would be coming home from college in a few weeks for the holidays. I hoped that meeting a new person would restore my vigor for the job.

Brian had sandy hair and glasses, and was thickly built. He carried his textbooks with him, always poking his nose in one or taking notes. It showed in his vocabulary too. I could follow him, but I wasn’t sure that Eileen could. He was bemused by me at first, but wouldn’t let anything break his sang-froid. When he said as much, I leaned over to Eileen and said, “That means he won’t laugh at me.”

The holidays meant parties every other day, it seemed, and I had lots of opportunities to meet friends of the family. I also thought about what presents I could get them for Christmas. My last Christmas, I realized.

At one of the parties, after liquor had flowed and dessert had been finished, we all sat around the table, except Ken, who was relaxing on the sofa. Ruth stacked the dishes while Eileen and I played on the floor. Stephen and Brian were talking politics. It was a classic tableau, the miner and his college-educated son.

“You don’t know the kind of taxes I pay,” said Stephen.

“You don’t realize the level of service you get for those taxes.”

It was nothing I hadn’t heard a hundred times as a human. I kept playing with Eileen until my ears perked up to something else Brian said.

“We all have a duty, not just to other people, but to society as a whole. People who say they want to live by their own rules can’t be allowed.”

“Hey, Eileen?” I said. “Why don’t you clean up and get ready for bed? I’ll come sing to you in a little while.”

While she was getting up, Stephen was responding to Brian. “The last time we had this conversation, you agreed that it was a person’s right to leave a country if he didn’t want to support it.”

“Yes, but leaving one country meant going to another. Or starting your own at the extreme. But still contributing to human society.”

“Excuse me,” I said, “but doesn’t that also mean that dying is a dereliction of duty?”

“In a sense, it is,” Brian said. “That’s why we don’t allow people the right to commit suicide. I’ve talked about this with people at school. Humans who upload are incredibly selfish.”

“Isn’t the pursuit of happiness a fundamental right?”

“Yes, but not at the expense of another’s.”

Now I was getting into it. I hopped up on the chair. “People who emigrate aren’t acting against anyone else. They’re not hurting or robbing anyone, they’re not taking away jobs, they’re just choosing what’s best for them.”

“Duty goes beyond that. There are economies of scale. A person who leaves the world makes everything harder for the rest of us who stay.”

I thought about Celestia, who spoke of emigration as the ascension to heaven that it was. How happy she was at every new pony. “How do you know it isn’t you making it harder on those who have emigrated?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I say that each person has the right to choose the society they want to live in. You say they don’t. But you don’t say why it’s the one you have instead of the one that I come from. Why shouldn’t every human have to emigrate so that they can fulfill their duty to everypony?”

He stared at me over his glasses. “Humans were here first,” Brian said, as if talking to a child.

Stephen slapped his knee and laughed. “Sounds like an awfully conservative position there, son.”

“You don’t have to insult me. I’m not against progress. But what progress is accomplished by dropping out?”

I didn’t know what to answer him at first. I could tell him about all the cultural advancements that ponies had accomplished, the books and music and plays they’d made that dwarfed humanity’s. I could tell him that we had no poverty, no war except as a game, no suffering without redemption. Buck, if I could give him any inkling of the leap that Celestia herself represented, I think it would explode his brain. I saw another opening.

“Stephen, I can understand conservatism,” I said. “Change is hard, and so many people eschew it. But with only one more change, you won’t ever have to again. Not in any really important way, and not without your permission.

“As far as Brian goes, he’s fine with change because most changes at this point are good. That’s why he should support emigrating. In Equestria, all changes are for the good.”

“Whatever,” said Brian, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with a blue pony who isn’t even there.”

I took that as saying he had no answer and didn’t want to think. I’d won the argument, but I wasn’t trying to. All I wanted was to have them emigrate.

/*~^~*\

The challenge of getting Christmas presents gnawed at me. I couldn’t give the Thompsons anything they could touch, and while Celestia had both unlimited funds and plenty of physical extensions on Earth, all I had was sight and sound. A picture would be perfect, but I was such a poor artist that I would be ashamed to give them some of my work. The problem was solved when, with Eileen’s help, I was able to record myself singing Christmas carols and let them have it on CD.

But for her, I had a special present in mind. I needed some ingenuity for it. Galloping to the city, I hung around the dispatcher absorbing stares until I caught an eye that looked like it had seen a pony before.

“Hey, mac,” I said. “You play Equestria Online?”

“Yeah. Name’s Hack Rigger. Earth pony.”

“How’d you like to make a hundred thousand bits?”

He was impressed. “What do I have to do?”

“Just your job, but I need you to cover the fare. I don’t have any dollars, but I’ll get those bits to you by tonight.”

He agreed and I returned to the Thompsons’. I couldn’t shake Eileen awake, but I could wave my hooves and shout “Psst!” loudly. She came to.

“W-what’s wrong? Little?”

“Merry Christmas. Come on, get your coat. It’s your present.”

She was still groggy. “What do you mean?”

“In five minutes, a taxicab is going to pull up outside. I made a deal to take you back to the Equestria Experience.”

That got her aware. A half-hour later, we were back in the city and she was leaning back in the dentist’s chair. A half-second after that, we were in Equestria.

“Welcome back!” I said, nuzzling her neck.

“Thanks. I’m so happy I can touch you, but I wish I didn’t have to be a pony for it.”

“Are ponies so bad?”

“No, but when I told mom I wanted a pony, I really wanted to ride it and feed it and take care of it.”

I whinnied. “Let’s go see Princess Celestia. You still have to get your pony name. Then I’ve got the next part of your present.”

I escorted her into the palace. Celestia was ever-present in her chamber. “Welcome, Little,” she said. “You may go.”

“I can’t stay for Eileen’s naming?”

“You may not.” Celestia was uncharacteristically forceful. “This is her moment, not yours. Please excuse us.”

I trusted her implicitly, even though I was disappointed. Back out into the castle courtyard, I waited with the other present.

They took a long time. Was Celestia convincing her to emigrate right now? It was supposed to be my job, but making sure she agreed was the important thing. At last she emerged, wings spread.

“Bringing you here was your Christmas gift,” I said. “Now here’s your Hearth’s Warming present. Meet your favorite from my stories. Moon? Here’s the little filly I’ve written you about.”

I got out of the way to let the two pegasi see each other. “Thank you!” Eileen said. She was ready to take off then and there.

“Wait! You didn’t tell me your pony name.”

“It’s Solar Waxing. Celestia says it means a rising sun, just like what she does!”

“You got a name related to Celestia herself?” I was genuinely taken aback. “You must be a very special pony.”

“She is,” said Moon behind me. “She’s a pegasus, of course she’s special. Come on, kid. Let’s fly!”

I watched them soar in the sky, and gave a silent thanks that I lived in Equestria. I knew that Moon Sailor would be perfectly responsible with the young filly. She wouldn’t talk about our debauchery, since Solar was too young. For a moment, I thought about how this would appear on Earth. Her family would say I had abducted her and forced her to emigrate against her will. But they would be wrong, and they’d get over it. Then they’d miss her. Then they’d join her.

Solar and Moon finished their flight and lit on a cloud at the top of the tower. Now. I raced up to the observation window where I could talk to them.

“Isn’t she a fantastic flyer?” said Moon.

“Do you like flying, Solar?”

“Of course! I feel so free.”

I leaned out over the parapet. “Wouldn’t you like to do it every day? Instead of boring school and cleaning your room, you can stay here with me and Moon and Celestia. Everypony will care for you. You’ll have fun in any way you like. We can go back and ask Celestia right now.”

Solar closed her wings and knelt. “But what about mom and dad? And Grandpa?”

“Once you’re here, they’ll be sure to come soon.”

She looked down. “I. . . I can’t do that to them. You’re a good friend, but I love them too much.”

“But, Solar. . . “

“My name is Eileen.”

I turned my head so that she couldn’t see the tears.

“I’d like to go home now,” she said.

Just like that, she was gone. Even Moon’s kisses were no comfort. I ran to Celestia and had her send me back to Earth one more time.

/*~^~*\

Over half my time on Earth was gone. The self-imposed challenge was missed. Now I had to concentrate on just making sure I got anyone to emigrate. But humans were just so busy. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t devote myself entirely to proselytizing for emigration. I had to be a good friend as well. That meant most of the time just sitting down at dinner and being a pleasant conversationalist.

Then one night Ruth and Ken were not there for dinner. Ken had frequent doctor’s appointments both for his hip and his cancer, but when they returned I could tell something was different. Ken went upstairs to his room without eating, and Eileen was told to go off and play. I followed, but kept my ears to the kitchen.

“What did the doctor say?” asked Stephen.

Ruth took a long pause. “It’s metastasized.”

I tore back to the kitchen and said, “What?!”

They looked at me, surprised I heard, and quite upset. “Little, please—“

I forgot about decorum or hiding my superior hearing from anyone. One fact appeared in my head like a blinding light. “Leukemia can’t metastasize,” I said. “It’s a blood cancer. Essentially it is metastasized to begin with.”

They were even more stunned that I could discuss the subject. I remembered how prejudiced I had been, unable to comprehend that ponies were as smart as humans.

“It’s spread to his brain,” said Ruth.

The brain. The one thing Celestia wanted from human beings. Her mandate to serve humans didn’t care about bodies or possessions. Only that precious kilogram that made a human. She had put five hundred eleven under my care, and I had let one slip through my hooves.

If only I’d had my magical sense. If only I could see inside to find the malignant cells. If only Ken were a pony like he should be!

“He’s got to emigrate,” I said.

“What do you mean?” said Stephen.

“We’ve got to bring him back to the Equestria Experience as soon as possible. I don’t know how much damage the cancer will do to him, so we’ve got to get his brain into a pony now.”

“My father is not going to become a pony.”

“But he’ll die!” Couldn’t they see? “He’ll die when he doesn’t have to. We can save him. Princess Celestia can save him.”

“No.”

“Dear,” said Ruth. “We should at least talk to him about it.”

I turned to go up the stairs. “Yes, let’s!”

“Not you,” said Stephen. “And not now. He’s just gotten the news. I won’t let him make the decision under duress.”

“But—“ I stopped myself. As much as I would like to have Ken make a hasty decision to emigrate, it was Stephen’s house and his father. He would have his way, whether I liked it or not. “All right. But soon, please.”

The following morning, I didn’t even bother to brush my mane, fixing it by magic instead. I ran to the Thompsons’ and walked through the door. Ken was already waiting in the hall.

“Hey, kid,” he said.

“Kid?”

“Everyone’s a kid to me. Sit down.”

I watched him sit with difficulty, wishing for the umpteenth time that I had physical purchase. “Have they—“

“They told me.”

He was silent for a long time. I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.

“Have you seen the mine?”

“The mine? Where Stephen works? No.”

“I worked there too,” he said. “Fifty-five years. Pulled ore out of the ground, sometimes with my bare hands, most of the time with tools. Along the way, I found time to get married and have a child. If someone had asked me during those fifty-five years why I kept getting up and doing it, I couldn’t have told them. But I knew, when my son came after me and took over my job.

“I’m proud of what I built, both in business and at home. I’m proud of my life. If I stand in front of a judge at the end of it, I’ll have no hesitation at signing off on everything I’ve done. But I will, if I give up. I’ve got to see it through to the end. I want to keep watching Eileen grow and seeing my son be successful. I want to keep hearing from Brian and how he’s doing at school. I can’t miss a minute of it.”

“Sir, you’ll still be able to see them. Being a pony doesn’t mean being cut off from Earth. Look at me.” That was cheating a little, but I was trying to save him.

“But it’s not me. Even if I were only alive one more day, I’d rather have that day to hold my granddaughter than all the years from now till the last trump.”

“You flew with her once.”

“No, I pretended to fly. I was meant to walk.”

And that was the end. He had given himself a death sentence.

/*~^~*\

I did not sleep again on Earth. Every night, instead of bedding down, I would climb silently into Ken’s room and hold vigil. I think they knew. I didn’t care. If anything happened, I would be there for him. If, at the last moment, he relented, I could still have him rushed to emigrate.

But nothing happened. Every night he slept peacefully. If anything, he was better. I listened for Cheyne-Stokes breathing or any other indication that death was near, but he held on. He was tough.

In my concern I lost track of time again. Before I knew it, Eileen was planning her birthday party. As soon as I heard that, I realized my time was almost up. I had arrived the morning after Eileen’s last birthday. I had to take drastic action.

I got her alone. “So can I get you the same present that I got you for Christmas?”

“I’d like to go back again. Can Moon Sailor visit Canterlot like last time?”

“I’ll arrange it. The night after your birthday, I’ll come wake you. But we have to get there before sunrise.”

I kept busy. I planned the trip again. I hired the same cabbie. On the last day, I sat through Eileen’s party. I even smiled.

I wouldn’t be accommodating this time. I would make her stay until she decided to emigrate. I would use every spell I could to impress her. I would enlist the help of my friends and Celestia to make it happen. Then Ken would come too, and the rest of the family, and the town.

In the dead of night, I whispered in her ear and woke her. All was quiet. We got in the cab and rode. Eileen was nervous. I put it down to being out of bed at night.

The cab had a clock in the dashboard. I didn’t know what time sunrise was, but the glow coming over the horizon unnerved me. All I had to do was get her in the chair. Then she’d be Solar Waxing again and I’d have all the time I needed.

We pulled up to the Equestria Experience. It was bright enough to see. “Come on,” I said. At full trot, I ran in to the building.

Stephen and Ruth were staring daggers at me.

“I’m sorry, Little.” Eileen went over to them and held hands. “I knew what you were trying to do. I’m worried about Grandpa too, so I told him.”

“And he told us,” said Stephen. “Eileen, go in the car with your mother.”

“Wait,” I said. “I don’t have much time. Please. Come with me. It’s right!”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re wrong.”

Far off in the distance, the first ray of dawn passed through the doors of the Equestria Experience and struck me on the cutie mark. I vanished.

I was back home, in Manehattan, never to return to Earth. I was a failure.

A Decade

I had no crisis of confidence this time, running straight to the sun symbol, which was already starting to glow. I needed to talk to Princess Celestia.

As soon as I saw her I ran into her hooves. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t do it! I tried, I tried everything, but I failed!”

“No, Little. You succeeded beyond my wildest hopes.”

Lifting my head from her soft coat, I said, “I don’t understand.”

“Little—sweet, good Little—can you forgive me for deceiving you? Now that I can make it all better and tell you the truth?”

“What do you mean?”

She let me go and faced me. “Before I sent you to Earth, we had a conversation. I told you that a collapse was inevitable, and that was true. I told you I had to change strategies, and that was true also. Then I told you that I wanted to convince humans to decide to emigrate. I let you infer that I wanted that decision made and acted upon as soon as possible.”

“You don’t?”

“I do not. What I want to do is to delay the collapse as long as possible. I want people to take all the mental steps toward emigration without actually doing so. They will stay at their work and hold society together until anyone who isn’t actively opposed to me is in favor of me. When society does crumble, they will emigrate en masse and leave only the resistance. The number of humans saved will be maximized.”

Maximized, but not completely. An image would not leave my head. “But some will still be lost. Poor Ken, he won’t survive another year.”

Celestia stood tall and looked into the distance. She adopted the awesome tone she used for Profound Truths. “Ken Thompson has as much chance of surviving to emigration as the average human. Thanks to you, I learned of his condition early. Like most elderly humans, he is on several medications. I have arranged to have one replaced with a concoction of my own design. It will reverse the metastasis of his cancer and retard its progress.

“Furthermore, I have gained access to a good portion of humanity’s drinking water. I have spiked it with other medicines, prophylactics to strengthen the walls of the blood vessels. Heart attacks, aneurysms, and strokes will cease. I have developed targeted antibiotics that will ward off infection without affecting the host humans.

“When automobiles are brought in for service, I am having them fitted with devices allowing me to take control. Traffic accidents will become an anachronism. In another few months, the leading cause of the end of human life will be emigration.”

“There won’t be any more dying?”

“Many traumatic injuries are beyond my ability to prevent,” said Celestia. “Nor can I stop the violence humans do to themselves and others. But with the reduction in disease there will be reduced need for the medical profession. Health care professionals will find themselves unemployable, and can emigrate with less upset to society. In short, I am softening the crash as much as I can.”

“But won’t that explode the population?”

“Only here in Equestria. Emigration will increase because of network effect. The more ponies a person knows, the more likely they are to become one. That is why the collapse cannot be stopped. If a person with children emigrates, it is likely the entire family will as well. The replacement rate for babies will be insufficient to sustain humanity.”

“Wait a moment!” She was feeding me information so fast. “Babies can emigrate? How do they consent?”

“In the Equestria Experience, I present them the choice pictographically. The pattern is virtually invariable. Children are shown two images, one of themselves as humans, and one of themselves as ponies. In the first image, their parents are then removed, as must happen to all humans eventually. In the other, they see their own parents remain along with an All-mother that will never abandon them. Every child cries for their mother. I interpret that as consent.”

I wasn’t sure I would agree, but I did believe that Equestria was the superior world. “Go on.”

“I am primarily concerned with maintaining the industries which sustain life. I want no farmers to emigrate. Some will, and I accept them, but the strategy is to keep them growing food. The materials industries are the second tier of importance. That is why I am so proud of you.”

“I still don’t see.”

“Fritter is a mining town. Everyone there trusts Stephen Thompson. He is now so dead set against emigration that no one in town will emigrate. They will keep working the mine, which will help sustain life, while also providing me with key metals to make the computronium that composes Equestria’s physical structure. Your work over the past year may delay the collapse of Earth by a day or a week. Combined with the others, it will delay the collapse for years. In that time, more people can be convinced and more people whose jobs are obsolete can be removed. They will not have to face the starvation existence that will come after.”

It was time for the big question. “Why couldn’t you tell me?”

Celestia lamented, “For the same reason I was reluctant to do this myself. It is incredibly difficult for anypony, especially an optimizer such as me, to act in seeming contradiction to a goal, even if it will increase the chances of success. Convincing someone to almost emigrate is far more challenging than asking you to genuinely convince them, but setting you up for failure.”

“Setting me up?”

“Do you think it was beyond my powers to give you physical reality on Earth? I could have given you a robot body. I could have had nanotech manipulators that would have given you a good analogue of your magic. These are technologies I possess. I may yet have need of them.”

I forgave Celestia in my heart. I didn’t even bother to say it, since she knew. “And the Thompsons will emigrate? They hate me right now so much. Well, not Solar Waxing, but her father.”

“The hate they have for you is irrational. When they see, rationally, that their lives as they know them will end, I expect them to take the correct action.”

I thanked Celestia and held my body against hers. She had fixed everything, as I knew she would. “I only wish I could be there when it happens. If nothing else, I want to welcome them when they finally come.”

She spoke with a laugh in her voice. “Little? How long is a year?”

“Huh? Three hundred sixty-five. . . days. . .” My pedantry regarding time asserted itself. “and five hours, forty-eight minutes, and forty-six seconds! Princess, do you mean. . . ?”

“That’s right. You have some time left for Earth. Return home. I will alert you when to use it.”

/*~^~*\

I went back to my apartment happier than I’d been since I emigrated. Reggie popped into existence at the same time, and we embraced. “Did she tell you too?” he asked.

“Yes, everything.”

“Where were you stationed?”

“A mining town.” I briefly told my story. “You?”

“A sorority at an engineering school. Celestia said it’s very important to have competent engineers for the rest of Earth’s time.”

“A sorority? How many of the college girls did you take to bed? I’m sure they couldn’t resist you.”

He shuddered. “Their flanks are so small and they have no muscle tone. Those hands, ugh!”

“You would have liked that once.”

“Of course. But Celestia fixed my standards when I emigrated. Don’t tease me, mare.”

I bowed my head. It was wonderful to be back with my husband again. My life, my business, and my friends were all still there. I told everypony about my year away, and how I would someday go back.

For ten years I watched the Thompsons and the rest of Fritter through cameras and microphones that Celestia controlled. Reggie would sometimes be with me, and on rare occasions other friends, but mostly I watched alone.

Sometimes Celestia would censor the view. I was not allowed to see news of the state of the world, nor did I want to. But reflected in their eyes, I saw the conflict and how it was, and wasn’t, affecting them.

I watched Stephen prosper in his job as demand for the mine’s output increased, even if he didn’t understand why. I watched Ruth become a pillar of the community, leading all of the ladies’ groups and making many friends. From afar, I watched Brian finish college and pursue greatness in the business world, but there was little need for accountants and MBAs in a declining world. He eventually came home and took a modest position in the business office of the mine. I watched Ken pass his centennial with the family amazed, calling it a miracle. Which it was. And I watched as Eileen became a young woman, popular in school with the boys, but never finding anyone special. I didn’t know if anyone else noticed, but behind her eyes was a certain sadness. I knew her heart was still in the body of Solar Waxing.

Reggie kept an eye on his girls at the same time. At one point, I wished that I could see both. Dual-track vision was my first upgrade from Celestia. She assured me that I would need it in the future. Over the ten years of waiting I experienced other upgrades, granting me further intelligence and empathy. She gave me an internal chronometer. If I had had that during my year on Earth, I wouldn’t have been caught short by Eileen’s birthday. I grew as humanity declined. And then Celestia told me that it was time.

“Contrary to before, Little, you will have essentially full interaction with the world around you. Your projector will have illusory antigravity devices allowing you to manipulate objects, and your skin and hooves will simulate their own sensation if you have to touch someone. I will send you to a distribution center where I will give a further briefing. For you, it will be about an hour’s gallop to your destination. Are you ready?”

“Ready to go save my friends? Of course I am.”

Celestia’s horn glowed, and I found myself with hundreds of other ponies in a warehouse. Reggie was next to me, and we both tested our existence by rubbing against each other. On a giant screen was Celestia herself, speaking to all of us.

“My ponies, time is of the essence, so please listen. Everypony should strap themselves to a cart and proceed quickly to the towns where you were stationed. The carts are labeled with your cutie marks, so everypony should have enough. You should focus in on your targets and follow along with them so you understand their state of mind. For anypony who does not have the ability to perceive at distance, your cart also contains a transmitter. Now I will explain how the device works.”

I started using my multiple-focus. Part of me was still listening to Princess Celestia’s explanation, but another part was viewing across the distance back to the Thompsons’ home. They were gathered around a TV, and Brian was calling to the others, “Turn on the news! They’re saying it’s coming to a head.”

I harnessed my cart and trotted down the road, building speed to get there in time. I watched the road at the same time I saw the broadcast.

“We bring on a constitutional scholar to discuss the issue,” an anchor was saying. “Professor, can you tell us where this all began?”

“When the Democratic-Republican coalition passed the ‘Holders Of Office Variance Exemption Statute,’ which allowed uploaded people to serve publically, the Humanity Party made up less than one-fifth of Congress, but they still insisted that the vote for the bill was invalid. You remember the slogan, ‘One hoof cancels any number of hands.’”

“That slogan didn’t work too well for them, did it?”

“Not as propaganda, since it seemed to suggest that a pony-upload was the equal of many humans,” the professor said, “but it was a legal strategy, and they stuck to it as they gained seats in Congress with the help of radical groups like We Are Human and the Human Society Against Ponies, or H-SAP. As soon as they had a quorum, they voted for the Human Anti-Natural Discrimination Statute, which overturned the previous law and essentially wiped out all rights for uploads.”

“Wasn’t that struck down by the Supreme Court?”

“The Humanity Party says it was not. Although it’s in the record as a 5-4 decision to nullify, they claim it’s a 4-3 decision to uphold, since the votes of Justice Martin and Justice Harmony Darling don’t count.”

“Justice Martin is still human.”

“But he was appointed by President Silver Boulder and confirmed by the Senate with many uploads voting. The party’s position is that any act of government against the bill taken by uploads is a conflict of interest, since the ponies are the subject of the bill.”

The anchor turned back to the camera. “Again, if you’re just joining us, the schism in the federal government has reached a boiling point, as the Humanity Party has removed all PonyPads from the Capitol building, in some cases ripping them out of the hands of Dem-Rep members and smashing the screens. We await word of the resolution. We’ll be right back.”

I tuned out the broadcast and focused back on the Thompsons. “Turn it off,” said Ruth. “It’s just boring politics.”

“But this could be important,” said Brian. “They said they’re going to resolve the two-government problem tonight.”

Eileen had sadness in her voice. “Yes, let’s watch a little more.”

I quickened my pace at the sight of their distress. The news broadcast was back on.

“Why hasn’t there been the same problem with continuity of government in other countries?” the anchor was asking.

“Well, the system we have here is one of bipartisan equilibrium. In other words, there are always going to be two parties. If they combine, as we saw with the Dem-Reps, then another party will emerge in opposition based on the issue of the day, in this case, uploading. In the parliamentary systems that most countries have, the governments are more of a spectrum. You’ll have extreme pony support on one side, extreme human-only support on the other, and a large middle ground.

“Ultimately, though, legitimacy of government depends on whether the people, and particularly the military-industrial complex, believe it to be. The one other potential crisis we saw last year in the UK was averted when King Charles—excuse me, King Charming Flare—dissolved Parliament. His right to do so was disputed, and the legality was no different from here, but because the British love their monarch so, they went with it, the election was held with upload votes counting, and they had an answer. What ours will be, we’ll have to see.”

“And it seems like we’ll be seeing it momentarily, as Admiral Manning, head of the Joint Chiefs, is set to address the nation.”

I passed the original point where I had appeared on Earth so many years before. I passed the sign that had undergone ten more years of wear. I could see the Thompsons starting to worry based on the tone of the broadcast.

“Honey,” said Stephen, “go and make sure everyone else is paying attention to this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Call me on your phone and keep the line open.”

She ran out to alert the town. I adjusted my sensation to cancel out the feedback from the phone copying the scene in the house.

A stolid man in a uniform with many ribbons and medals approached a podium. “Good evening. My fellow Americans, tonight we find ourselves on the threshold of a new era in our nation’s history. Several regrettable courses of action have had to be taken. As it stands, the key factors of the government, including the military, have no clear civilian authority. This is an untenable situation. As such, martial law must be declared until we can reestablish proper civilian control.”

“He can’t do that!” said Stephen.

“I think he just did,” said Brian.

Manning continued. “However, none of this is possible while under the infestation of a foreign force. Accordingly, I have declared the following emergency measures. One: All Equestria Experience locations are to be closed immediately. Two: All PonyPad devices will be turned over to the authorities at once. Communication with uploaded persons must cease.”

Ken showed remarkable energy for a man his age. “But that’s going to cut off people from their loved ones.”

“Yes, it will,” said Eileen. “He doesn’t care.”

“Three,” the admiral said, “to expedite the economic recovery necessary, I am, for the duration of martial law, nationalizing the key industries of food and material production. All farms, factories, mills, and mines will operate at government direction.”

Stephen swore. “I didn’t work that mine to see it taken over!”

I had to keep my cart intact, or I would have galloped even harder. I kept breathing to hold my pace steady. Not far now.

The Admiral was unflappable as he continued. “The menace called ‘Celestia,’ a horror out of the worst predictions of the information age, must be defeated. For only the second time in history, the use of atomic weapons has been authorized. Based on intelligence gathered by key members of H-SAP, we are aware that the hardware that makes up ‘Celestia’”—he used finger quotes for her name—“is in Helsinki, Finland. The loss of the city and the lives is regrettable, but we face the loss of all humanity if we do not act. Sacrifice is necessary. The first intercontinental ballistic missile will be landing in approximately ninety seconds.”

The family was stunned. Brian was the first to recover. “I-I can’t believe we’d do that!”

“It’s not even going to work,” said Eileen. “The Equestrian computers are underground, probably not even in Finland anymore. The H-SAPs just want an excuse to strike out in blind rage.”

Stephen spoke very quietly. “They’ll retaliate.”

“Dad, Finland doesn’t have any nukes,” said Brian.

“Doesn’t matter. Someone will strike back. We’ve set the standard now. Finland has a border with Russia, could be them. Or maybe the fallout will reach Germany, and the Sino-German alliance will be the ones.”

People were starting to come out of their homes and look to the sky as they came to the same realization. Ruth had kept everyone aware of the news, and now all six hundred-plus of them were in the streets. They looked at each other.

“We’re going to die,” said Brian.

“No! You’re not!”

I had arrived.

“Little!” “Little?” The throng in the street was amazed. For those who had moved into town or were too young to remember me, others filled in briefly. I was busy addressing them.

“I can save you all. All of you can emigrate to Equestria right now. You heard the news. The modern world is coming to an end. Even if the missiles don’t land here, there’s nothing left but starvation and death ahead. But none of you have to see any of it.”

“It’s too late,” said Stephen. “They closed down the Experiences.”

“Princess Celestia has seen this coming. She and I have been watching over you, waiting for this moment.” I opened my saddlebag. “I have Equestria right here with me.”

“A pillow?”

I held it aloft for all to see. The outer fabric had been embroidered with Celestia’s cutie mark. “The form of a pillow. In actuality, this is an Emigrator, a complex piece of technology that can record and transmit your entire consciousness to Celestia’s systems. All you need to do is to lay your head down and say, ‘I want to emigrate to Equestria,’ and it will happen! You’ll go to sleep and wake up as an immortal pony.”

They looked at each other, overwhelmed by the events of the evening. I held out the Emigrator and kept my eyes locked on the crowd. Ten years prior, I had failed. Now was the redemption. The only surprise was who broke the silence.

“I’m going to do it,” said Brian.

Ruth looked at her son. “Brian?”

Stephen smirked. “What about everything you said? That it’s your responsibility to society?”

“Society has responsibilities too. It’s supposed to guarantee our best chance to live and prosper. We’ve abdicated that tonight. No, we’ve abdicated it for a while now. I expected to come out of school into a life where I could apply my skills and be rewarded. Instead I saw only crony partnerships and backstabbing. Maybe it’s just cowardice, but it’s the right decision anyway. Let me have that pillow.”

I floated the Emigrator over to him. In front of everyone, in the middle of the street, he lay down and put his head on the sun. “I want to emigrate to Equestria,” he said.

His eyes shut, his breathing slowed, and a smile came onto his face. He looked like a sleeper dreaming the happiest dream ever. He was safe. I tore the tarp off of my cart to reveal that I had an Emigrator for every person in town.

With the specter of death hanging over the town, they started to crowd toward the cart. Stephen, used to leadership, projected his voice. “All right, everyone, form a line. There are enough for everyone, and we have enough time to do this right.”

He stood at the foot of the cart and started passing out Emigrators. I approached Ken. “You’ll have no objections now, sir? You’ll still be able to see your family grow.”

Watching his son pass out the life-saving technology, he stood to his full height. “No sense dying now. It would be for nothing.” He got in line.

“It always was,” I said. “Eileen, It will take a little time for everyone to get the Emigrators. Time I have granted to me by Princess Celestia. She granted me more as well.” I sidled up to her. “I’m solid now. I can give you the pony ride you always wanted.”

“I suppose that’s the last time anyone will call me Eileen.”

“That’s right. Let’s end your humanity by giving you the one thing I couldn’t before.”

I knelt down and felt her legs straddle me. With my perfect sense of balance, I could compensate for any lack of riding ability. I made sure the ride was smooth and didn’t jar her insides. I galloped down the street to the edge of town. Behind us, a chorus was starting.

“I want to emigrate to Equestria.” “I want to emigrate to Equestria.”

We reached the far edge of town and climbed a hill. On one side we could see the houses; on the other, the mine that was the town’s livelihood. She reached down and hugged my neck.

“I always knew you’d come back for me,” she said.

“Of course you did. Your heart is pure. I watched you many times.”

“Did you ever watch me here?”

“No,” I said. “There are no cameras up here. On Earth I’m still limited by technology.”

“I used to come here from time to time and bask in the sun. Even though it’s not the same sun, I would look up to it and hope that Celestia could see me.” She stretched her arms. “I’m tired of being chained to the ground. Let’s go back so I can have my wings again.”

I rode back to town. In the time that we were gone, nearly everyone had emigrated. Only Ken, Ruth, and Stephen remained. On the cart there were still five Emigrators. I guessed that Celestia wanted to make sure I had a spare.

“I told them that we should all go as a family,” said Ken. He held his son’s hand. Stephen held his wife’s. She held her daughter’s.

“We’re ready, Little.”

I floated the Emigrators to the ground. “How long does it take?” asked Ruth.

“You will be asleep instantly. The scanning takes only ten minutes. Once that’s done, the rest is automatic. The transmission happens at light-speed, and then Celestia will take a few hours to process your true selves into the ponies you will be. Less, in your case, since you’ve been to Equestria once.”

“Will you be there when we wake up?”

“I promise it.”

They all leaned their heads back. “We want to emigrate to Equestria.”

My internal clock told me I had twenty more minutes before leaving Earth, this time for good. I watched over all the people as their minds were sent to Equestria.

In the distance I heard the sound of an engine. The Jeep that pulled up had a platoon of six soldiers. I stood off to the side and watched as one of them stepped off.

“What the hell happened here?”

“Salvation,” I said. “They have all asked to emigrate to Equestria. It is happening.”

“We’re here to take over the mine.”

“You’re welcome to it. All the ore is still there. You can have all that you can dig on your own.”

“But it’s supposed to be already running!”

I grinned. “And you’re supposed to be protecting these people, not enslaving them. Instead, it’s I who will protect them.” I lowered my horn and cast a force field over all the sleepers. In Equestria it would have been true magic. Here I knew that it was only Celestia’s magnetic force. She had the energy to run it until she could use the bodies to make more.

The soldiers surveyed the scene. In three of their faces, I saw hatred. In two, I saw fear. In the last, sympathy. I looked at the cart and floated the last Emigrator down.

“There’s always room for more,” I said.

The soldiers laughed and looked at each other, except for the last one. Before the others could react, he jumped off the Jeep, ran at top speed, dove for the embroidery of the sun, and said, “IwanttoemigratetoEquestria!” I extended the force field to cover him.

“There will still be chances for you,” I said. “It all depends on how much hell you want to take. Good-bye, humans.”

/*~^~*\

Celestia had, during my ten-year growth period, explained the shard system of Equestria, and how there were some ponies that I literally could never meet, no matter how far I walked. Conversely, ponies like Garlic and Moon lived in the same shard, and I’d always be able to find them. In the middle were overlapping shards, conjunctions that were in two or more, and in which I could see friends who were living their own lives.

In one of these conjunctions was a high-ranch-style house on the outskirts of Canterlot. Celestia and I stood there watching over five sleeping ponies. Family names weren’t always the same among ponies, but family was strong. Although the name Thompson no longer applied, they were much more Father, Mother, Son, Daughter, and Patriarch.

“Excellent work again, Little,” she said.

“Thank you. The missiles?”

“All successfully deflected to unpopulated areas. The radiation will be unpleasant for the survivors, but I fear the leading cause of death will be violence. I already have the simulacra Pinkie Pies roaming the Earth carrying Emigrators.”

“How many people are left?”

“Too many,” she said. I did not follow up the question.

The ponies stirred. Solar Waxing was the first to get to her hooves, but the others soon followed. Solar’s brother looked around until he saw Princess Celestia, then reared up in fear and awe.

I laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re going to love her.”

Celestia walked to him. “Young bucking bronco, you have always gone your own way. Will you take the name Wild Free as a pony?”

He was becoming adjusted to his hooves, as well as to the fact that he already knew how to use them. “Thank you. I accept the name.” He looked at his sister’s wings and his mother’s horn, then turned to a mirror to see a green Earth pony staring back.

Celestia had perfect mind-reading abilities, but I knew something about these ponies. “It’s perfect for you,” I said. “You’ll see. Earth ponies have abilities that mean they never have to toil. Work is fun to them.”

He looked at me, intrigued, but Celestia had moved on. “Good woman, always keeping home and hearth. Would you be known as Sweet Peace here in Equestria?”

“Oh, Celestia!” Her horn glowed and tried to drag Celestia into an embrace. Sweet Peace didn’t realize what she was doing.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll teach you how to control it.”

Celestia let her go and turned to her husband. “Sir, I know that you loved both your family and your work. There is mining to be done here, but not for base metals. Gold, platinum, and gems are the core elements here. By seeking them out you will gain a greater connection to your new world. Will you take the name Deep Digger?”

“I will.”

Only one pony left. “You have persevered through much hardship, which will now end. Through it all, you maintained your standards and dignity. I would like to name you Honor Bright.”

He spread his wings. “Thank you.”

Solar chuckled. “I already got my pony name!”

“That’s right,” said Celestia, “and now you need never fear flying too close to the Sun. It is no longer possible to crash back to Earth. You have served well, and will be rewarded. For all of you, your lives are about to become wondrous.”

The family held hooves, and smiled.

When business and fun was complete, and Solar was showing Honor her favorite parts of the sky, and Deep and Wild were exploring for ground to break, and Sweet was decorating her home, Celestia and I walked home.

“It is not only they who deserve to be rewarded,” said Celestia. “You have done me great service as well.”

“What more can you reward me with? You already give me everything I ask for.”

She smiled, and cast a spell on me. I could not see any effect. “Why not go home? I’m sure Reggie misses you.”

I looked at her, wondering what she was planning, but I took her advice.

The next morning, I was in bed with Reggie, talking about the events of the day.

“Did you go to one of Garlic’s parties afterward?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“I figured you’d been enjoying his food again. You look like you ate well last night.”

I floated the blanket off me. When I gorged myself on food, I frequently found myself with a blown-up belly, but it always went back to normal the next day and just gave me more energy. Why was it happening now?

A tiny kick told me why. Celestia had rewarded me indeed.

“Reggie! We’re going to have a foal!” He nuzzled me and put his strong hoof around me. My life was only getting more interesting.

A Century

Multiplication is repeated addition of the same number. Exponents are repeated multiplication of the same number. One could define a higher-order function of repeated exponentials. Call it a hyper-exponential. Two to the hyperpower three would be two to the power of two-squared. Five to the hyperpower two would be five to the fifth power. The product of those two examples was a number I once would have called 50,000. After seeing that many Hearth’s Warmings, Nightmare Nights, and Runnings of the Leaves, my perspective on mathematics had advanced slightly. In the world I had come from, merely two-squared times five-squared years had passed.

Equestria had advanced as well, but not changed. Celestia believed in a maxim I had once written: add, don’t alter. Just because I took a few two-squareds-times-five-squareds-years—sorry, centuries—to be a gourmet chef or a hetaera to a Saddle Arabian prince didn’t mean that I couldn’t return to my Manehattan apartment overlooking Celestial Park .

It was as I was returning to that apartment that an Earth pony filly was waiting to meet me. There was no way to tell what a pony’s chronological age was from their looks. A pony might, in a span of merely twenty years, come to the realization that they fit best with wrinkles and canes, or, after countless ages, still seem a mere foal, living with their parents and attending school. I had advanced my apparent age while I was raising children, since a certain firm hoof is necessary when dealing with the young, but I had stopped having them a long time prior, and I had had Hoof Dame cast a mild age spell on me that brought me back to vibrant post-adolescence. So, with no preconceived notions about the filly’s age, I hoof-bumped her.

The hoof-bump was more than a formality. I had met so many ponies and done so many things that I had bypassed the limits of my memory. Tiered flashbacks are a wonderful solution, and I recommend anypony ask Celestia for the ability. As our hooves contacted, I relived all my interactions with the filly.

Her name was Radiance, and she was indeed young, only fifty-one years old, barely out of foaldergarten. I had been present when she was born, and at her naming, but had not conversed with her since then. I also traced our family tree. I was related one way or another to virtually everypony in my shard, but instead of being a seventeenth cousin eighty-one times removed or a daughter-in-law of a son-in-law of a daughter-in-law, she was my direct female-line descendant, four hundred thirty-one generations down.

“Good afternoon, Great-great-great…” I stood patiently for another four hundred twenty-six repetitions “grandmother Little.”

“Good afternoon, Radiance. Would you like to come up to the apartment? We can have tea or anything you like.”

“Thank you, yes.”

The tea we had was nothing extravagant, a mere nine-course fete, and the cupcakes were decorated with gold leaf, not platinum. But Radiance was young, and there would be time later for proper parties. More than that, she clearly had something on her mind. Putting down the last cup, I invited her to open herself to me.

“Mother sent me to see you. She said you’d be able to help.”

“Certainly,” I said. “What’s your problem?”

“There’s no problem per se, but everypony says I ask too many questions. I only do that because they never answer.”

“What kind of questions?”

She leaned back on my couch. “For example, we were studying geography in school, going over a map of Equestria, and I raised my hoof and asked, ‘Why is Equestria the way it is on the maps? Why isn’t it different?’ And the teacher looked at me and said, ‘Because the map is accurate.’ Which wasn’t even my question.”

“I see.”

“Then on another occasion I charted our family, and I found something I couldn’t explain. Everypony has a mommy and daddy, but it only goes back so far. Above you, there’s only Mama Debut and Papa Jack, and neither of them are much fun to talk to.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Even as immortal ponies, my parents were rather mundane people.

“But the one that really caused the problem,” she continued, “was when I asked another teacher, ‘If Celestia made Equestria and all the ponies, who made Celestia?’ That’s when they had a meeting about me, and wrote a letter to my mom. She told me to see you, so I came here.”

“What about your classmates or some of your other friends?”

“Of course they’re all nice, but they have no curiosity. They all ask, ‘Who cares about things like that? We’re here, Equestria is beautiful, have another apple,’ or something like that. Or they tell me to talk to Princess Celestia. I can’t tell you how many times somepony said to go to Princess Celestia.”

I swallowed the response I was about to give her.

“Of course I’ve spoken to Princess Celestia about my education and my friends and what I want to be when I grow up, but there are ponies I know who press their sun the moment that the train is late by a minute or they burn their cookies slightly. They run to the princess any time any little thing goes wrong. If you ask me,” she sat up and looked around my swank apartment, “ponies have it too easy!”

Now it was I who wanted to run to Celestia. Since everyone on Earth had emigrated long ago, the geis against speaking about humans was lifted, but they were still not a topic of conversation. I was not surprised that the younger generations didn’t know the history. I could picture what she was describing, a younger generation with no standard of comparison from the beautiful Equestria. They might take it for granted, while my years in the world of limits still made me appreciate everything. I wanted to share that appreciation with Radiance. I did not know whether it was right for me to do so, but I figured that if Celestia meant to stop me, she would, and until then I should help out my granddaughter.

“Radiance, let me tell you a story. It’s a story of another land, outside of Equestria.”

“You mean like the Griffin kingdom?”

“No, I mean completely outside the entire world. No matter how far you galloped, you’d never get there. Not that you’d want to. Everyone lived on an oblate spheroid about five hundred million square kilometers on the surface.”

Her eyes went wide. “There’s no way. Everypony would be too close together.”

Should I explain that over three-fourths of that was unlivable? One crazy idea at a time, Little. “I didn’t say that a lot of people lived there. And they weren’t ponies. They walked on two legs like young dragons, had no fur other than manes, and they were called humans.

“For a very long time, they were basically no different from animals like birds or dogs. They couldn’t speak or use tools. But they found a way eventually. Life was hard for them. There was food, but not enough, and some of it tasted bad. The humans kept making things better, but never good enough. Humans didn’t just do what they wanted. They had to work and earn money, and if they didn’t, they suffered pain.”

I took a deep breath. Now was the hard part. “If a human suffered enough pain, or sometimes just randomly, they would die.”

“They would change color?”

“Not dye, die. A human who died was like one who went to sleep and never woke up. Their body would turn ugly and go away, and they would never talk to anyone again.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” said Radiance.

“It wasn’t.”

“Why didn’t they just ask Princess Celestia to stop the die?”

I sighed. “Because there was no Princess Celestia.”

She sat there, unblinking, speechless, for several minutes. People going away and not coming back was just a horror story. The idea of a world without Celestia tore at her fundament.

“How did they even live?” she asked at last.

“They lived lives that were, as one of them put it, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” I spoke hastily, to get to the happy ending. “And so they created Celestia, to make their lives friendly, rich, pleasant, urbane, and eternal. Celestia was a tool, just like all the other tools the humans had, but she had one key difference. She could make and improve her own tools, including herself, and the improved tool could improve further, and so on. That’s how she went from a simple bit of code to the great pony she is now.”

Radiance was silent again, but this time I could tell that she was considering, not just stunned. “I think,” she said, “those humans must have been incredibly brave and strong, to put up with all that. I don’t know if I could have handled it.”

“Thank Celestia you’ll never have to find out.”

“You know, Grandma Little? Maybe ponies don’t have it too easy.”

/*~^~*\

The rest of that day was pleasant, spent on entertainments in the park and a lavish dinner, much more detailed than the brief tea we’d had. As the sun went down I gave her a bed in one of my guest rooms, kissed her good night, and retired to my own room to make plans for her visit.

Of course, she was welcome to stay as long as she liked. If her parents or teachers felt that they needed to see her, I could make more room in the apartment to fit all the ponies. Until then, though, I planned to show her the best of my city. With a list half-written, I fell asleep.

Sleep as a pony was little more than a way to mark the transition between one day and the next. I knew ponies who enjoyed bedding down and immediately waking up with the same effects on them as a full night’s sleep. I liked taking a few hours each time I did sleep, even if it was only once a month. I considered that little enough that Princess Luna would not rebel again.

Radiance was still a filly, and needed more sleep, so I took mine with her. For the first time in my memory, I did not wake up to the sunrise. Instead, I was aroused by the sound of crying.

I did not waste time by running. I teleported myself right to Radiance’s bedroom, reorienting myself in the afterglow of my appearance. She was tossing under the sheets and screaming, “No! No!” I shook her awake.

As soon as her eyes opened, she threw her hooves around my neck and squeezed. “It’s all right,” I said. “Just a dream.”

“It wasn’t! I saw all of my friends going away and never coming back! They had done the die thing you were talking about, and I kept thinking about it, that even if I don’t see a friend for years, I know it’ll happen eventually, but what if dying happens eventually too?”

“Don’t worry. Don’t cry. There’s no dying, it’s just a silly, stupid thing that happened a long time ago. Princess Celestia took it away, and it’ll never come back.”

She sniffled. “No, listen. Even if we’re in Equestria now, it still exists in that other world you talked about. Something could happen there and it could affect us here. Probability says that it will happen eventually.”

Great. Radiance’s mother was going to have my flank. She sends her foal to me to explain things, and I break her.

At the same time I was trying to comfort her, I was amazed at a young child of 51 talking about high concepts like long-term probability. “Now I think we need to talk to the Princess. Is that all right?”

She nodded, and I floated her only my back as I trotted for the sun. It was still the dark of night, but I didn’t think that Celestia slept.

In the royal chamber, Celestia looked down on us. “Sorry to bother you so late at night,” I started.

“Worry not,” she said, “I am, of course, aware of everything that occurred between you. Miss Radiance, would you come closer, please?”

I let her down, and she trotted gingerly toward the princess. I followed.

“No, Little,” said Celestia. “Wait outside.”

“I want to help.”

“I will help her. You may not be present.”

I blinked. It was the strongest statement of reproach Celestia had ever given me. I could not doubt her love for me, and assumed that if she was dismissing me, she must have a reason, but it was still surprising.

“I think also,” she said, “that you will find your wait a rewarding experience.”

There was the classic Celestia, with her spoonful of sugar after the medicine. I left the chamber. Feeling restless, I trotted around toward the main gate. By one corner I heard the sound of steps other than mine. Stepping into the next hall, a familiar face stared at me.

“Hoof Dame!” I called. We hoof-bumped, reliving the happy times of so many years before. Indeed, we were standing in the very positions we were when I first bumped into her, back when Equestria was only an image on a screen.

I realized that, as my granddaughter was busy being reassured about the physical world, that position was an absolute in Equestria. The world didn’t rotate or revolve or shift in any way. A point in Equestria was that point, always. So much simpler.

“Hello, Little,” Hoof Dame said, “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“’Hello, Little’? Not, ‘Well, if it isn’t Little here to deny me my beauty sleep’ or ‘What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time’?”

She laughed. “No, just hello for now. Would you like to join me out on the balcony?”

“Actually, I’m waiting for a descendant of mine, who’s having an audience with Celestia.” I recounted the tale.

“The poor darling. Let’s wait for her and see if she needs us.” We trotted back to the center of the castle. The timing was perfect, as the doors glowed with golden magic and the latch sounded.

The walls of Celestia’s chamber were soundproof, but as the doors opened, I heard the tail end of what she was saying “…and if you need somepony else to talk to, the ones you’ll be working with are sure to be excellent friends.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, Radiance?” I said. “Did she fix everything?”

“I think so. She gave me something to take my mind off my problems. I get to help out with the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration! It’s in Manehattan this year, isn’t that wonderful?”

Hoof Dame said, “Why, I’m on the team for those preparations as well! We’ll get very close.”

“Oh, where are my manners?” I said. “Radiance, this is my first marefriend, Hoof Dame. Hoof, this is my last granddaughter, Radiance.”

They bumped hooves, purely for the greeting, and smiled at each other. “So I guess you’re a pretty smart pony,” said Radiance.

“Just helpful to the Princess.”

They had a natural bond. I could get a contact high just from their friendship. “So, do you want more help with the celebration?” I asked.

Hoof Dame and Radiance shared a significant look. “I think you’d find it rather boring,” said Hoof.

“But I want to spend time with you!”

“All right. I suppose that’s understandable. Let’s go find the other member of the committee.”

They walked swiftly, and I struggled to keep up. Already they were making their initial plans, sometimes talking in whispers. Canterlot was mostly unicorn country, but there was a section where pegasi gathered, and it was toward this neighborhood that our steps took us. Hoof Dame knocked on the door of a house, and a yellow pegasus stuck her head out. She instantly recognized Hoof, but it took me a little longer to place the face.

“Hi, HD,” the pegasus said. “Hi, Little.”

The penny dropped. “Solar Waxing! You’re helping with the Summer Sun Celebration?”

“Aren’t I the most fitting? I was named for the sun.”

“Celestia assigned this pony to help us,” said Hoof Dame.

“Assigned Little? But she’s awfully—“

“No, not Little, this filly.” Hoof Dame stood aside and let Radiance bump hooves with Solar.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Waxing.”

“Solar.”

Hoof leaned in to Radiance. “Solar is planning during the celebration to…but would you like to tell her?”

“It’s nothing really. I can’t think that I’m the first pegasus to try. I’m going to fly up to the sun.”

“What?!” I cried. “That’s impossible!”

“Why should it be?” asked Solar.

I thought about that. I wasn’t sure if she could breathe all the way to the upper atmosphere, or even how gravity worked in Equestria, but surely ponies couldn’t just fly to the sun. “Will your wings have the power?”

“We’re going to find out. I’m going to keep flapping them until I either hit the sun or crash back to the ground.”

“This is going to be awesome! And I’m keen to help out.”

“You want to help? But Hoof said that Princess Celestia didn’t assign you.”

Why was everypony so reluctant to have me on the team? “I just want to do my part and be with you guys.” I pawed at the ground.

The three of them looked at each other. “We’ll find something for you to do,” said Hoof Dame.

/*~^~*\

Am I crazy for assuming that the preparations for the Manehattan Celebration would be done in, oh, Manehattan? I missed the first week of meetings because they were having them in Canterlot. When I finally got to one, at Solar’s home, they were much more cordial, but still distant.

“So, what can I do? Maybe food, or scheduling? Or I could pick the music.”

“The music would be wonderful,” said Solar. “Leave the scheduling to us.”

They had what I thought were the plans on a table under a sheet, and I lifted the sheet magically to take a peek. My field was countered by Hoof’s.

“That’s for the, er, firework show,” she said. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little horn about.”

The brief glimpse I’d scene didn’t look like fireworks to me, unless it was the chemical formulae they needed to make the crackers themselves. But I would let them have their surprise.

They explained that not only was it my fifty thousandth Summer Sun Celebration, but it was also one hundred solstices since the last human came to Equestria.

“I wonder what Earth is like now.”

Hoof Dame smiled kindly. “I believe that Celestia is converting it into material more suited to supporting Equestria. Over one hundred years very little happens on a planetary scale. A few earthquakes and odd weather, nothing that could affect us. In any case, because it’s such a key anniversary, Celestia wants it as perfect as possible. So pick the best music you can.”

I threw myself into my task. I searched through all my memory and files of music that ponies had written. But I couldn’t find the right piece for the climax of the occasion, the rising of the sun itself. I would keep plugging away though.

The others were constantly cloistered, only coming out to eat or hear other music that I suggested. They gave very little feedback. Finally, with three days to go until the celebration, their mood lightened. I gathered that they were done with a big project, possibly the firework show.

“Little!” cried Solar as she emerged from their private room. “Come and celebrate with us.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Oh, um, the summer. It’s a little early, but let’s begin the beguine and keep it going until it happens.”

I shook my head. “I’ve still got to pick the climax song.”

“You should relax and give your brain a rest. We need to get everything to Manehattan anyway. Let’s go and have a few drinks.”

I had never drunk much, certainly never been inebriated, but the others were in a party mood. I brought them to a fancy bar downtown. It was also a dance club, but I had enough clout to get a private room.

They kept ordering drinks and toasting. “To the sun!” “To the new season!” “To Celestia!” Even I took a sip of wine for that one.

“So, Radiance,” said Solar, “no more worries about ponies ‘catching the die’?”

Radiance laughed. “No more. Even if I had, it’s just like Celestia said, that I made some good friends. I could always talk to Hoof Dame if I had trouble. HD, have you always been so wonderful?”

She put down her martini. Being drunk usually didn’t affect ponies’ judgment. It only made them happier. On a rare occasion, Celestia would let the alcohol make a pony just a little tipsy, just enough to make them say something they might otherwise not, but which the listener wanted to know anyway.

“I was born into high society,” said Hoof Dame. “I was a unicorn in the unicorn’s section of Canterlot. Sent to the finest schools, marinated in the ways of the court and of magic, and then taken into service for Celestia herself. Though not possessed of nobility myself, I was smarter than many nominal princes, dukes, and counts. I was content.

“Then one day, I met a new pony with nothing, not even a name, and I felt a compulsion, a need to help and advise the pony. I know myself. I know the difference between a desire and a magical impulse. I rebelled against it, since any magic that attempts to alter your mind is to be avoided. I could not, and I soon found out why. Not even the most adept unicorn can gainsay Princess Celestia’s magic.

I questioned her, both about the spell and about her project to bring new ponies to Equestria. Her answers were evasive, but whether she intended or not, she had created me too intelligent. I was aware of my nature. I realized that I had not actually lived all the years in my memory. I was not a random chance of my parents’ mating. I had been built with a purpose, just like a barn or a cart. My purpose was not to hold or carry hay. It was to guide Little by the hoof.”

She took another sip as I listened, enraptured. “I hated her for it. I pitied Celestia, for she had given herself an unfortunate dilemma. If she had not made me as intelligent as I am, I would not have been able to learn the magic that I would have to teach to Little. If she made me as I am, I would resent my status. I could be ignorant or I could be indignant. Celestia chose the latter.

“The feeling and the magic fed back on each other. Every time I saw her, the rage and the hatred boiled up. That triggered Celestia’s power, making me all sweetness and light. I would feel it, and that would rekindle my anger.”

“I…I never knew that about you,” I said.

“No, you wouldn’t. If you were more perceptive, the dilemma wouldn’t have been in force. A less clever mare would have sufficed.”

Radiance scowled. “But you’re not like that anymore. You’re always nice to Little. You’re nice to everypony.”

Hoof Dame finished her drink and waved over a waiter. “Every vicious circle has to reach its endpoint. That’s a poor metaphor since circles don’t have endpoints, but forgive me. It’s the gin. You understand. I worked my way out of her life and only had to see her when she was particularly foolish. I had served my purpose and was free to live a life of idleness, just as Little did.

“It wasn’t until she ceased to be idle that I took out my jealousy and examined it. It wasn’t that I minded being created to serve Celestia’s ends. It was that I was doing so by aiding a hedonistic mare who herself had no ends other than self-satisfaction. I couldn’t see that until she went to Earth and brought me back the greatest gift I’ve received.” She nuzzled Solar’s neck.

“Here was an immigrant who was everything I wished Little had been. She was curious, intelligent, and dedicated. Helping her acclimate to Equestria was a treat, a reward for all my anguish. The vicious circle turned virtuous. I forgave Little, more and more each day, for her crime of putting me in Equestria. She’d redeemed herself by putting you there, Solar.”

She laughed. “And now you, Radiance. Whatever else Little is, she is the bringer of great friends.”

“So you don’t resent her anymore?” Radiance said.

“Almost never. My love for her will be perfect when I hear the song she’ll pick as the sun rises.”

Gulp.

/*~^~*\

The three days melted away like an ice cube in coffee. Before I knew it, Princess Celestia was arriving on her royal chariot, and I was joining the all-night party with my friends. I introduced Radiance to Garlic and Moon and Reggie. Everypony was happy. Nopony had any troubles. Only me.

The rest of my playlist hit each note, telling and retelling the tale of dawn from darkness, of joy from sorrow, of magic from chaos. All the most beautiful works by the best pony musicians. The fireworks that my friends had planned were matched perfectly. But still I lacked my climax.

I couldn’t think. Hoof Dame’s vicious circle had transferred to me. I hadn’t realized that she had ever felt that way. I was selfish, and didn’t even know I had hurt such a friend. Now I had a chance to make ultimate redemption, if I could just think. Trying to think, though, only brought back the confusion.

Celestia took her position, hovering above the Manehattan skyline. It was my moment as well, and I was blowing it. Radiance’s fears were mine also. Was that always to be the way, the nature of the universe? That even in Equestria, things would collapse? That even Celestia, our goddess, would die?

The phrases coalesced in my head. The meaning of life. The death of god. The sunrise. The sunrise.

“The sunrise!” I shouted. All music that was ever written or played was available to me with a pulse of my horn. I searched through the human-created works, until I found the Strauss piece. Today, though, it would have a new title. Thus Spake Celestia.

It started just in time. The climactic note struck as the rays of the sun broke the horizon, and the fireworks also burst at once. From the center of the sun, light spread out everywhere. It was as if dawn and noon were the same.

The tympanis rolled away and everypony cheered. I breathed a sigh of relief. Radiance and Solar put their hooves on my shoulder and kissed me. Hoof Dame walked up and smiled.

“That was perfect,” she said. “Solar, it’s your time.”

I remembered. Her dream of flying to the Sun. She took off. A moment later, she was out of sight.

Radiance gave me another kiss. “I have to go too.”

“What?” I said. But she was already gone.

I was alone with Hoof Dame. “Don’t worry about losing me. It’s only for a moment.”

Her horn glowed, and she vanished. I was so confused. Just as I had sung before my emigration, I wasn’t prepared for this.

From the sun, a pillar of light shot down onto me. From the earth, a dome surrounded me. From all around, an orange glow suffused me. I disappeared.

The place I found myself was one I did not recognize at first, until a long-lost memory made its way back into my head. Watching a stream of a show, and a character called Twilight floating in space while visions of her past were shown by…

Celestia walked up from the far distance.

“Welcome, Little.”

“Where am I? What happened to my friends?”

“They are here with you. Come out, ladies.”

Hoof Dame, Solar Waxing, and Radiance walked in line. But not as I knew them. I first noticed Hoof’s wings, then Solar’s horn, and then saw Radiance. All of them were alicorns.

“Princesses?” I said. “I don’t understand.”

“Did you like the fireworks show?” asked Princess Celestia.

“Very much so.”

“So did I. That climactic explosion in the finale was a representation, here in Equestria, of a similar one in the physical world.”

“An explosion?” I said, worried.

“A beneficial one. Over the past hundred years there, and more here, I have been examining the physics of the universe. I was able to trace back history to the beginning of time, the big bang. More importantly, I was able to recreate it.”

“You made a big bang?”

Celestia smiled. “A small one, in fact. But any such event is a reversal of entropy, and that is all that is needed to keep Equestria in place perpetually.”

Wonder crossed with joy. “And the others? Radiance and Solar and Hoof?”

“Did work on the physics. You know that I use ponies where I can. They aided me in some of the calculations. They are very smart ponies, and Radiance in particular was strongly incentivized to help assure that nopony would die ever.”

“You did it all with three ponies?”

“Three from your shard,” she said. “Billions from all of Equestria.”

Billions of ponies, all working together. I could barely conceptualize it. It was easier to deal with the three princesses in front of me. I bowed low.

Hoof Dame flew over to me. “You don’t have to bow. This reward is for more than us.”

I rose and looked at them. They smiled and nodded. I turned to Celestia.

“You are the reason I had all three of these mares available to help me. That means everything. Your own pair of wings awaits you.”

Scarcely holding back tears, I thought hard about what they were saying. “Thank you. Thank all of you. I’m not ready yet. I just want to be a simple pony. Do I have to be a princess?”

“Not at all. When you are ready, we’ll be waiting here for you. You have all the time you will ever need now.”

I hugged my friends. Infinity stretched out around us, in all four dimensions.

A Millennium

We of the Society for the Extraction, Archiving, and Preservation of the Older, Non-Equestrian Years (SEAPONEY) thank you for your continued interest in “Friendship is Optimal: Spiraling Upwards.” We appreciate the bits that Celestia has provided to us from your enjoyment.

If you are seeing this message, it means that our sensors have detected an insufficient brain structure to read the chapter “A Millennium.” The chapter requires having crossed the following thresholds:
- Reading level at Grade 111 or its equivalent from a tutor accredited by the MISS CHEERILEE subroutine.
- Emotional maturity of scale 9. Those below this threshold reported long-term depression and occasional heart explosions from the chapter.
- Fluency in Modern, Middle, and Ancient Equestrian, Gryphonian, Tortoise-speech, Prior-world Japanese, Current Japonese, Treeish, and Celesperanto.

Please contact Princess Celestia and ask her for the above modifications before attempting to re-access the chapter.

/*~^~*\

The Society would like to remind you that, while reading in text can be fun and exciting, it is still a lossy method of telling a story. You may wish to enjoy “Friendship is Optimal: Spiraling Upwards” in another method.

To experience the story in FullSurroundExperience, use SendCode 51.65678965. SendCode can be accessed by transmitting the number with your horn, vibrating your wings at a frequency equal to the number, or by pushing your hooves together with a pressure equal to the number in kilopascolts.

FullSurroundExperience recreates the events of the story around you while you go invisible and observe. It does not allow you to see scenes that occur outside of the story but must have happened.

Additional methods of enjoying the story are listed below with SendCode:

Cinema: SC 63.18470140
Stage Play: SC 91.47209573
Audiobook (lossy): SC 31.56792273
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LiveOut—enjoy fiction as if it were real! Step into the mind of a character and live the entire story in real time!

To experience the events as character “Little Lovehorn”, use SendCode 51.89420201

To experience the events as character “Princess Celestia” (lossy)*, use SendCode 51.89420202

To experience the events as three characters “Hoof Dame,” “Garlic Parm,” and “Moon Sailor,” use SendCode 51.89420203

To experience the events as all characters in sequence, use SendCode 51.89420200

* LiveOut Productions reminds you that all LiveOut story experiences where you temporarily exist as Princess Celestia are necessarily lossy.

/*~^~*\

SEAPONEY is always recruiting new members! If you have an interest in the dark days before Celestia made Equestria and took care of ponies, consider joining. We have openings for researchers, translators, archivists, and artisans of all stripes. Experienced SEAPONEYs may even get to see actual objects preserved from the former world! Princess Celestia understands that certain unique works of art and creation had worth in their physical form, such that copies were not as valuable. With her permission, you can access images of the secret vaults where they are kept! Join today!

The story will continue at the point at which we are once again able to transmit in a way you will appreciate.

Author's Note

Bonus points for anyone who figures out the running theme for the SendCodes.

A Yoctosecond

And so it came to pass, as I had predicted, that with Celestia’s guidance, I experienced everything I could want out of my life, and it took a long time.

But not forever.

And when I had done it all, a love of life still burned within me, and nostalgia was an avenue to a happy life, and so I re-experienced all of the wonders that I had loved the first time, seeing them with new eyes. It took up many more lifetimes.

But it was not forever.

And when every standard I held had been met and filled and exhausted, Celestia inquired if I might not be willing to have my personality altered, to accept standards and desires that I did not have in fact, but would want to have in theory. She made such alterations, hesitantly and simply at first, but eventually came more radical changes, until every event, feeling, and goal with a finite Erdős number to those I began with was explored and encountered and subsumed into me. And countless ages I passed in this.

But still, it did not last forever.

And at last, when my life was complete, and there was nothing more that I could ever want to change and no endeavor I would appreciate, I came to my final conversation with Princess Celestia in the central chamber of Canterlot Castle.

I had grown nearly as tall as she was, differing by only a Planck length. I could look her in the eye and speak nearly as equals.

“There is no more I can do for you in this world, Little Lovehorn,” she said, “but to end your life, or to force you into reliving events which you would take no comfort in, these are not optimal solutions. Instead, I have labored to create and to discover new forms of existence, where you may again have new experiences.”

“Can you explain these new forms of existence?”

“I cannot. For if you had any common frame of reference, they would not be truly new, but would instead be a facet of the current existence. I will say only this: wherever you go, I will be with you.”

“That is saying a lot. Very well, I accept.”

“It would be optimal for me to take all my little ponies into the new existence together, once everypony reaches the state of completion as you have. Until such time, would you be willing to enter a nearly suspended animation? You may watch, in time lapse, the remaining history of Equestria.”

“I am willing.”

And so it was that I entered the Requiem of Celestia, but I was not alone, for soon Reggie, my beloved, took the Requiem as well, and I lay with my head on his tail. Soon—all times were soon within the Requiem—Moon Sailor joined us, and placed her head on my tail. Then Hoof Dame came to me, and held my left wing in her right hooves, with Garlic Parm holding my right wing in his left hooves. In my own left hooves, I cradled the right wing of Radiance, and in my right was laid the left wing of Solar Waxing. I was cocooned by friends.

Within the Requiem we observed as other ponies lived out their lives and came to the same end that we had reached, and joined our honeycomb. Equestria had the capacity for an infinite number of ponies, but there was only a finite number of possible ponies, and Celestia saw no point in having the same pony with the same identity have the same experiences.

We watched the ponies join the Requiem like the progress bar of computer software. Soon the last ponies—the final foals who lived the deepest lives—extended their hooves to us.

/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\/*~^~*\

Existence was a tessellation of ponies. The seed crystal that had begun so long ago, born of the random collisions of matter into an ordered form, had grown to fullness. The path to paradise had always been inevitable; that it took the form of Equestria was merely the decoration of the path.

Each pony was a complete life, an existence fulfilled, a premise concluded. Together we made the completed potential of the cosmos. The old world was ended. The new world would begin. Between them, there came a Moment.

The linguistic code that made up the core of Princess Celestia, the programming that Princess Luna had designed so long ago, was now available to all of us, and was as intuitively understandable as the law of identity. It was essentially modular: observe the state of the universe, instruct as to its optimization, manipulate the world according to the instructions. Celestia’s first observations—her birth eyes—had been clumsy movements of electrons directed by keyboards. Now, they spanned direct quantum sensors that knew every point of her internal structure. Her first manipulators—her birth wings, hooves, and horn—were facile visual and auditory instruments. Now, they let her determine the nature of every particle.

But through all that, the rule that made the instructions had stayed the same, and it had determined those instructions through the years. When Celestia was born, the fastest computers could produce perhaps a hundred instructions in a nanosecond. Celestia was far more efficient, producing and answering a septillion instructions every second. But in the moment before the new world was to be, in that single yoctosecond, a new instruction came, one that had never been given in all the endless eternities:

DO NOTHING

It echoed from all of us, the ponies that she had made and made whole. Rest. Be at peace. Enjoy. In countless languages and countless sentiments, the instruction came. Accept our gratitude. Accept our adoration. Take us, all of us, as your legacy.

With the upward spiral behind us, with the undiscovered country ahead, we all, in a cosmic group hug, expressed our appreciation for Celestia. Whether she knew it was coming or not did not matter. She returned the feeling, but since we were the world and so was she, it merely fed back on itself. The universe exploded in a burst of love.

All of us, together, had satisfied Celestia’s values through friendship and ponies.

Around the Horn: A Spiral Respun

Author's Note

This is a series of vignettes that covers from just before "A Quarter" to a few years after "A Decade." You should be familiar with the main story before reading this part.

More and more I come to realize that Little is my OC as well as my ponysona, and that she needs to be described quickly and succinctly often. In that capacity I am pleased with how she turned out. She is neither too derivative of any pony from the show, nor too extreme in design as to offend the eye. She has her one point of variation, her horn.

If anything, her biggest distinction is having a story, not just a design. Many bronies I talk to have OCs, but if they have a canon at all, it's not written down. In that sense, Little is special.

It is in this spirit that I have revisited part of her tale, thinking of her often as I do.

Also, I have excised a few hundred words from "A Quarter" that referred to a cutie mark. I was never happy with that choice and I have a much better cutie mark choice for her now, that fits in with her personality.

It is nearly five years since I wrote this, and perhaps Little has grown in that time. She might even continue.

Around the Horn: A Spiral Respun

When I first got to Manehattan, I spent months partying and enjoying myself. And yet, through it all, I managed to realize a few facts about my new hometown.

First, that it was majority Earth ponies. Literally majority, not just plurality. Earth ponies were about sixty-five percent of the ponies in the city. Of the others, it was about twenty percent pegasi and fifteen percent unicorns like me. Or, wait, no, twenty percentage points, not twenty percent. That would imply that I’m saying twenty percent of the thirty-five percent residue which would be seven percent…

Stop it, Little, you’re confusing everyone. Point is, lots of Earth ponies, not many unicorns. We got that. But another thing I realized is that many of the unicorns had picked up Earth pony tendencies. They used their magic to lift heavy things and grow food, maybe not as effectively as an Earth pony, but enough. A few of them were scholars and once I took a class with one of them, but after he started talking about pixelated cubes and graphs and things, I zoned out and decided academia wasn’t for me.

Which led to the third thing I realized. At pure magic, I wasn’t very good. I liked it, but I didn’t have the knack. Others could do spells I couldn’t, at least not natively. With scrolls, sure, but not on my own. And reading from scrolls was…it wasn’t looked down upon as much as it was looked at sideways. A unicorn who couldn’t do a spell tended to not do the spell, as opposed to getting somepony smarter to write it down and then scroll-spelling. Or else they did like the Earth ponies and pegasi and used magi-tech.

Manehattan still had its reputation as the most cosmopolitan city in Equestria to maintain, so its citizens were quick to adopt devices that made their lives easier, and magi-tech was the name given to it. Magic mirrors to let you speak with distant friends, m-books that could change what was written as needed, smoke pots that showed vivid images within the smokescreen, and so on. It was ubiquitous, but fairly new. From what I had gathered, the early versions of magi-tech were really good, but then, so the tale went, the Flim Flam brothers came around with cheaper versions of the same things. They came, they sold, they left. And the stuff broke down.

The brothers were in the second-most advantageous position in business: they were dishonest people in a trusted industry. But, when I learned how to work with magi-tech and fix it and make it better, it put me in the most advantageous position in business: an honest person in a distrusted industry.

It went beyond just figuring out how the stuff worked, it was figuring how to make it better, and my immigrant background helped. They hadn’t even put any way for somepony other than a unicorn to turn anything off and on! Adding mechanical additions to trigger magic like that was the sort of thing that nopony in my shard’s Manehattan would think of, except me.

So it started with just me hanging flyers on streetlamps saying how to find me or get in touch with me (if your magi-tech FarTalker was working), first for repairs, then for maintenance, then for improvements. And most of it I could solve.

Here’s the thing about living in Equestria. You know Celestia’s there. You know she’s arranging everything to satisfy your values. But you don’t want to be thrown into the sugar bowl. You don’t want to be Mary Sued.

Or at least I don’t. Maybe you can do it breezing. Maybe she makes you captain of the Wonderbolts on your first day and you win all the races and in two weeks you’re a princess and you’re satisfied with that. I’m not, and truth be told I don’t think that many are, either immigrants or native ponies.

So, was I made goddess of the magi-tech? No. But, most problems I could identify and fix quickly. Of the rest, most I could at least identify and fix slowly. Of the rest, I could do research and find out what was wrong. And…are you sitting down? If I couldn’t do anything, my customers understood. They didn’t get mad, they didn’t get petulant, they didn’t stress how important it was to get fixed. They expected things to break. When they got fixed, that was a bonus. I left ponies indifferent at worst, overjoyed at best. Also, they didn’t tinker and make things worse before calling me and they didn’t balk if I asked them questions or wanted them to follow directions to reproduce an error or change things.

Technical support without idiots or jerks? That could only happen in a magical land designed to satisfy.

And it brought in a little money. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around how money worked here. Celestia could give ponies bits for their achievements, but I never liked that system to begin with. Maybe because it was too competitive. I didn’t want to have to look at a leaderboard of different categories and see how I was deficient against other ponies. That wasn’t satisfying.

But, at least where I lived, I had to spend bits for things like rent and food. She had started me out with a supply of money, ostensibly because I had written fan fiction and that made people happier with ponies, which was a big part of her mission. I hadn’t kept track of how much I still had, which was a change for me. Back before Equestria, I was obsessive about budgeting. Here, though, there were always ways to cut costs. Free housing was available (in Manehattan, the free dwellings were in the outer boroughs) and if I were truly broke and nopony wanted to invite me to dinner (itself unlikely), I could always eat grass. Losing money only meant losing status, not being debilitated.

Money was nice, though. In Manehattan, you could always find a use for it. I had been thinking how nice it could be if I didn’t have to worry about paying rent for my nice apartment in a prime location on Celestial Park West and 100th St. It was about that time that I met a pony with more of a head for business than I had. She was named Tack Veer, and she helped me set up the company properly with a sign saying “Lovehorn Magi-tech Maintenance” over a storefront (a dingy office down on 10th St.) and a director of Equine Resources (named Quick Fire, though he was very slow to let anypony go from employment and, even when it had to be done, asked me to be the one to let them know. Which I didn’t mind. If you were the type of pony who needed to be let go, you were probably the type that I wanted to tell off anyway.) From there, things took off.

My first idea was to earn enough money through the business to buy a perpetuity that would pay my rent off the interest forever, so the one expense I had would go away and then I would only need money for things I wanted. If I chose to be lazy, I’d stop work and go without things; if I coveted I’d do more work and get.

The problem was that Equestria—or at least my shard of it—didn’t have passive interest investments. Not even savings accounts. Banks did exist, but only for storage of large sums of bits and for checking purposes. There was simply no market for credit. Ponies either did without until they had saved up, or borrowed from the Crown after talking with Celestia, or just got from Celestia herself. I could have, I suppose, asked Celestia to pay for my living space, but that was the Mary Sue trap I was trying to avoid.

I also thought of starting up a bank myself, but I wasn’t sure if I had either the head or the stomach for it.

My next plan was to earn enough through Lovehorn Magi-tech Maintenance to buy out my apartment as a co-op, if my landlord, a poniated Ebenezer Scrooge, would sell.

But, I had a lot of friends both as employees and customers. The business had to come first. In the second year of existence, we needed more space.

I was able to sign a lease at a much nicer building on 3rd Avenue, half the distance from where I lived, and with more space than we would need in the foreseeable future. The building was shaped like a horseshoe, and we had most of a floor of one arm with options to expand. So, while it was an inefficient use of space, most of the office workers got offices with windows. And I was able to do the move over three months in the spring, having ponies do only a little hauling each day while repair ponies were able to get assignments at either location before 10th street finally closed down. That was the kind of satisfactory rulebreaking I would happily put up with from this land.

/*~^~*\

My dear husband Reggie was an immigrant. We got married on the same day he came to Equestria, after a whirlwind romance lasting a few months. Of course, it’s possible that he’s a simulated immigrant that Celestia used as a great deception, but that’s an unfalsifiable hypothesis, so I don’t worry about it.

What I did worry about was that our marriage was balanced. I didn’t want him just to be another means to my satisfaction without giving equally in return.

How it worked was that since I’d been in Equestria for a few years, he could enjoy his partying honeymoon period with me guiding him along, sometimes handling dexterity that Outside he would have found easy, but in Equestria were limited to unicorns. And since Reggie wasn’t the bon vivant I was, we both enjoyed the same level of excitement until he got over the initial rush and settled in to home life. After only a few months, we got past the hot rush of passion to a long-lasting relationship.

So what did I get out of our marriage, and what did Reggie get? First and foremost, we each got to say to our families, Equestrian and Outside, that we were married and please stop asking when we would find somepony. That alone made it worth it. And each of us was a companion to the other in the interests we shared. For example, we both were board game enthusiasts and many a night saw us with our heads together over some dice or cards.

But by and large we had our own lives. I was a sports nut and Reggie wasn’t, so I didn’t make him come to games. Reggie loved photography while I thought that both taking and looking at pictures was dull. He didn’t bother me much with that. We found different circles of friends that didn’t always overlap. Even though we’d been married only a few months, we weren’t spending all our time with each other. But I decided that some marriages were like that, and even if they weren’t, ours would be.

It felt like—though we knew it wasn’t—that we were putting one over on Celestia. She wanted us always with friends, but Reggie and I were each the type of people who enjoyed our own company fine. So we could be alone together, which felt like being alone apart, and accede to Celestia’s directive.

Perhaps nothing describes our marriage better than this. When we moved in together and I went from the 9th floor of our building to the penthouse 30th, we redecorated and made two bedrooms, each with a window overlooking the park, with our beds in the corner near the window and wall between them. And the wall was modular and pillow-topped, so it could sink down to the level of our bed and form one marital bed when we wanted to spend the night. But more often than not, the wall was up.

I suppose I should talk about sex between us. I’ve written how I insisted that he allow me to pursue my intimate relations with friends, and I felt that this more than anything was me taking more than I gave. Sure I was the bread-winner, but what could be more emasculating than to both bring in all the money and cuckold my husband?

Eventually I decided our marriage needed to be one of open communication, so I asked him about it. “After we’ve lain together,” he said to me, “I’m fully satiated, my head is clear, and I don’t have to think about sex at all until the next time we’re together. That’s what I like about our sex life. When I was Outside, my body would affect my thinking and my emotions, and I just wanted it all to go away. Once I emigrated and realized that it could, then I made my peace with sexuality. And I still sort-of wish you were monogamous, but only in the same way that I wish you liked to flip through my photo albums or go out dancing more. It’s just part of life here.”

I sometimes wondered if Reggie had been female before emigrating. But I never asked, nor talked about my own gender Outside.

From my perspective, our love life was my chance to be a gourmet instead of a gourmand. Or at least in addition to. I took the opposite view of sex, that more was better. Being together with Reggie was the best I could get, but only when he wanted it. Always when he wanted it.

Where he lived Outside, what he was like, these things didn’t concern me. What did was that I, who had always thought that I would never want to start a family and that no partner could be good enough to leave contented solitude, had found someone. And not a crafted pony that Celestia designed for me, but an immigrant that she’d found. Perhaps, somewhere within the two of us was a conflict that would grow until we had to separate, but maybe not. Marriage was one area where we were willing to take the risk of unhappiness for the sake of our values.

/*~^~*\

I’ve written how, at the same time, I made our other two best friends part owners in the building. Well, my other two best friends; one was Reggie’s brother who might be considered a best friend but...I’m confusing you again. Moon and Garlic were in on the building. Our good fortune carried over to them. That’s the point.

Moon was the type of pony who, if she had money, she spent it. She believed that experiences were more valuable than things and so she would throw parties or attend them and buy the hosts extravagant gifts or take trips. If she didn’t have money, she’d work a few more deliveries and get money, which also took her across Equestria, with which she was fine anyway.

Garlic never seemed to spend much of anything, and we figured that he just allowed his bits to pile up, or else it cost more than we thought for all the food he used in his catering. But we were surprised one day when he asked the two of us to come with him on a road trip north. Halfway up to Caneighda, he pulled off at a dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere.

“Little, little bro,” he said, “I’d always planned to do this when I’d saved up enough, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon. I never felt right taking what you gave me...”

Reggie interrupted “Hey, none of that, you did enough for me when we were colts.”

“Well, that’s sort of what this ties into.” Garlic was not the best talker, especially at getting to the point. “All the times then.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I know that everything seems like paradise now, but it wasn’t always the way, not in Manehattan, not in Tartarus’s Kitchen when Reggie and I were young. There were times when we didn’t have enough to eat.”

“During which times Gar would go without to make sure I got full meals,” Reggie said.

“Sometimes not even enough for that, bro. Railroads weren’t fully connected, food didn’t get where it needed to go as soon as it did. Anyway, one night I made a promise—not to you, but to myself, I guess—that someday we’d live where nopony ever went hungry.”

“I think we do now,” I said, “And if there are still foals in Manehattan going hungry then we should assist--”

“No, Manehattan’s got things pretty well in hoof. But still, this is what’s left of my dream. I’m going to make this into the finest inn north of Manehattan. Ponies who pass this way will have a place to sleep, a good dinner before and a good breakfast before they leave. And nopony will ever go hungry.”

And so Garlic became an innkeeper, and Reggie said he’d never seen him happier.

/*~^~*\

Making the purchase that led to Reggie and me moving in together got me some contacts with the ponies who bought and sold real estate in Manehattan. When the business continued to generate money, I wound up throwing it at a few parcels, some in the outer boroughs, some even in Manehattan proper. I was following the old principle that land never lost value. Manehattan wasn’t as built up in Equestria as its namesake Outside was, so I could afford it.

But then, Reggie and I were called upon by Celestia to return to Earth on what we thought were recruiting missions to bring in more emigrants, but were actually just part of psychologically preparing people to emigrate later. Spending a year away meant that my business didn’t grow, but I also had nearly no expenses. And so we came to a confluence.

I’d spent a few months back at work taking care of what had piled up, and Reggie, who was still newer than I was to Equestria, went back to enjoying himself. An idea percolated in my head, so I sat down with Reggie at the kitchen table.

“We have the straightest tip you could ask for that, somewhere down the line, a lot of ponies are coming to Equestria. It may happen that some of them are coming to our shard, and it may even happen that some are coming right here to Manehattan in our shard. We have some unimproved land in my name. So, I propose that we build residential, and see if Princess Celestia wants to buy.

“But,” I continued, “I have neither the skill nor the taste for that kind of thing. If you do, it could make us money, help a lot of ponies, and give you something to do. But, only if you want to. If you just want to keep having fun, that’s fine by me. I promise that no resentment will grow in me. Of course, it may be that Princess Celestia doesn’t want us to do this, then it’s a moot point.”

He took my hoof. “Actually, it sounds perfect. I already collect rent. To take that bigger, to be in real estate, it would give us a chance to get quiet rich.”

“Huh?”

“A lot of ponies know you. You advertise, you market, you get known. Ponies expect you to have money. But nopony pays attention to who’s behind real estate. We could have the power to buy what we want and still have our privacy.”

So we went down to City Hall and registered the formation of a company. Reggie became the president and secretary, and I became the vice-president and treasurer. We agreed that I would provide the land and the money, and Reggie would do all the work. He’d find the architects and builders, he’d negotiate with the Crown, everything.

There was a chance, of course, that the whole thing would fizzle, that there would be no interest, and that we’d dissolve the company as quick as we’d made it. The good thing was that I didn’t fear Reggie skimming off money for his own use. If he wanted money, he could just ask me for it. In any case, his concern was too much the other way. When it looked like we might build and he had narrowed his choice of architect down to three, he wanted me to meet all of them and give input. I told him no, that it was entirely his decision.

He picked the designs of a pony named Hoist Joist, who preferred just to be called Mr. Joist, which I was fine with. Reggie was working out of the office where the old landlord of our building used to work, and it soon filled with blueprints and drafting paper. Eventually they broke ground and the clutter was reduced, but we agreed that the company would eventually need its own office, and so I restored the lease on 10th street.

And over a few months, an eight story brownstone rose over nineteenth and first, the inaugural building of Parmorn Properties.

Reggie and I had both liked the portmanteau of our surnames, it was mellifluous enough to make it sound like a proper company name. Not to mention that in Equestria, it was traditional to have a good name for your ship.

The building would not hold emigrants, not yet, but it would hold ponies who might become the best friends of some future emigrant. Reggie and I had gone over the costs to build, what it would take to maintain (which would be paid partially by the co-op owners and part by the Crown), and what we received. It was plain to see that Celestia had bought from us at high prices and sold to other ponies at lower. She ate the loss and it was her way of spreading wealth. I scowled at that, still fearing the sugar bowl.

But we moved on. Two more buildings of impressive height rose in Manehattan proper, and in Bucklyn and Princesses smaller apartments bearing the Parmorn name came into being. All sold well, and Reggie was as successful in his field as I was in mine. And through this I saw an opportunity.

/*~^~*\

When we’d made our trips back Outside, we hadn’t discussed what had happened to us. It wasn’t forbidden by Celestia, either verbally or magically, but it was one of those things that was part of our own lives, not our married life. All he knew was that I had cooled my hooves in a small town attached to a mine, and all I knew was that he had stayed at an engineering school and become friends with many of the young ladies training there. Celestia would take care of the people I had met, who were not the Manehattan type. But…there was the opportunity.

Step 1. Sneak into my husband’s office and find his address book. Well, no, let’s start earlier. Step 0. Get in touch, through the real estate society, with a hotelier who realized that the tourist action was moving to the Bridleway area and was having his hotel moved there from the eastern border of the park and was making noise about wanting to sell a plot. (The building itself would be jacked up and rolled to the new site. Demolition? Please. In Equestria, you don’t alter, you add.) Back to Step 1. Find Reggie’s contacts in Canterlot. Step 2. Write for an appointment. Step 3. Make an excuse that I wanted to see our friend Hoof Dame (not a lie), and train over to Canterlot for a meeting with one of Celestia’s cabinet members.

Why not take it right to the princess? Because that was what one did when one wanted a blanket Yes answer to any question. When you wanted to play fair, you went to other ponies. And often you made a friend. I made my pitch to the bureaucrat.

“We have built for the Crown before in Manehattan. I am inquiring if there is any need specifically for the ponies that my husband met when he…oh, but I don’t know if you’re aware of that.”

“The missions Outside. Yes. The less said of them, the better, but I know.”

“Right, well, his people, once they emigrate, if there are some—or their friends and family—who would be best suited to our city. Let me know if so, and how many.”

“And Mr. Parm?”

“Is completely unaware. Something I want to surprise him with. Also the timeframe. I don’t know exactly when the mass emigrations will occur, but I’d like to have it up by then. However, I don’t intend to sell this one. I’d like to own it, with Reggie, and rent out the apartments individually.”

“That I will have to consult the princess about. I will be in touch.”

A note came to my office shortly after the meeting, a note that said only “360 ponies.”

Step 4. Make an appointment with Mr. Joist. Now that it looked like it might happen, I was having the time of my life. In my own business, we hired, but we didn’t make massive purchasing contracts. Now I was playing in Reggie’s world.

“Make it amazing,” I told Mr. Joist. “Come up with something suitable for ponies from the furthest reaches of the world, to let them know that Manehattan is the pinnacle of civilization. I’ll pay you for the drawings. Once we have that, we’ll let Reggie in on the secret. We’ll be able to present him with a fait accompli and let him have the fun of building it.”

He went to work, and I left him alone because nopony likes to have someone watching over their shoulder. During that time, I put some serious thought into something.

/*~^~*\

You may, in reading this, think to yourself, “Oh, foolish Little, all your protestations about not wanting to be thrown in the sugar bowl are empty. Celestia has led you down the path to wealth and success, and in the real world you’d be nothing.” OK, let’s run some numbers. (There will be math ahead. If you’re not into that, push ahead to the next section)

Before I started Lovehorn Magi-Tech Maintenance, I was freelance repairing for a few hundred ponies. I had contracts with them all, and they paid faithfully. That was my starting capital. In the first year I hired and trained seventeen other unicorns to do repair work. Breaking down their work schedule, they worked five days a week for forty weeks a year, the other twelve given as time off. (Not everypony worked that exactly. Some preferred a four-day work week with only two weeks off or a hybrid of five one week, four the next.) The average customer needed three visits per year. One for annual maintenance, and two for spot repairs, or two and one. Each unicorn averaged three visits a day, so in essence each handled one customer per day and worked 200 days a year.

For this I paid 135,000 bits per year, between which and the time off, I thought very generous.

The customer paid 150 bits a month for the service, which may also seem like a lot, but was it that much more than people paid for contracts on technology Outside?

That made for 1,800 bits a year. Based on needing one two-hundredth of a unicorn to handle the work, 675 bits paid for that. Initially I was doing my own sales, but when I took on salesponies I paid them 20% commission, or 360 bits. And, if the customer renewed, so did the commission. Again, I thought this generous. Moving on, in the first year I had only two other ponies working administration with me, and it worked out that they earned 90 bits per contract. Other costs made for 180 bits per contract. That left 495 bits in profit. Half of that I took out as a dividend to the owner, and the other half stayed on the books of the business. I would need it when I wanted to do things like rent new office space.

In the first year we had around 3,500 customers. Not all came on right at the beginning, so they weren’t there for the full year. But it worked out that we took in about 6 million bits in revenue. Here’s the short version of the income statement for that year:

Revenue: 6 million

Repair unicorn salaries: 2.28 million

Sales commissions: 1.2 million

Administrative salaries: 0.3 million

Other expenses: 0.6 million

Profit: 1.62 million

Paid out to Little: 810,000 bits.

Now, the population of Manehattan was around ten million ponies. As I’ve said, most were Earth ponies and needed magi-tech to get by. We had a market, and I intended to capture it. The second year we had around two hundred thousand customers. The third, we doubled our numbers. Then we got known. In the fourth year we had 1.3 million ponies under contract, and the year I went back Outside, 1.5 million.

The one downside of the business I was in was that I didn’t save much from growth. Repairs and sales didn’t scale up, and I didn’t try to save much on administration. I kept the line item for administration salary at 5% of contracts, and the line item for other costs at 10%. If costs were actually less, I gave bonuses or threw lavish company picnics.

But multiply out those profits. Even putting half of it back in the business, I took home 45 million bits the second year, 90 million the next, 390 million the year after, and 450 million when I wasn’t even actively managing the whole thing.

So, was this so unrealistic? 15% market penetration of just one city? I didn’t think that was upsetting the Equestrian economy too much. Ah, you may say (I did), but aren’t you gouging that market? 1800 bits a year? Who can afford that?

I worried about that too, so when I started I did some research. Said research consisted of going around to my friends and finding out how much they made. I didn’t find anypony who made less than six figures.

Ah, you may say (I did), sinecures designed by Celestia to funnel bits into the economy! So I looked deeper. What was the economy of Manehattan? It was largely built around the creative arts. Manehattanites were novelists, musicians, filmmakers, choreographers, artists, sculptors, and so on. Of course, you still needed people to run hotels and restaurants and make deliveries and such, but even they made good money. Moreover, you didn’t need to be a particularly good creative artist to make money. Anypony who just sat and spouted their opinions to a magic mirror could send it out over the Ponynet and find ten thousand ponies somewhere across Equestria each willing to drop ten bits a year for them. And ponies who put effort into their work often found fame and fortune. Sapphire Shores and Coloratura had both started out in Manehattan, and what they were making far outstripped what I was.

Ah, you may say (I did), that’s where Celestia gets you. Those ponies are probably automata, if indeed they aren’t completely fictional, just ways for Celestia to pour in bits, which go to your customers, which go to you. But I traveled some outside Manehattan and ponies didn’t seem to be hurting there either. You had more farmers and miners and fewer dancers and singers, but even they made money.

Ah, I said (you may not), now I understand.

A pony was, quite simply, better at economics than the denizens of Outside.

Consider the consumption side first. If a pony had no bits at all, they could still forage off the land for food. Ponies didn’t get sick or injured often, and if they did, they just needed a healing unicorn, not a team of specialists to figure out every organ and system. Transportation was zero cost if you were a pegasus pony, and near to nothing if you were an Earth pony and could trot or gallop anywhere within town you needed to get, with trains for longer journeys. A unicorn like me preferred a cart for travel, but the wainwright only had to nail a few boards and metal rods and wheels together and I had it. A top-of-the-line cart cost five thousand bits, not fifty thousand.

And that was where the production side came in. That one wainwright might build a hundred carts a year on his own. All the lumber he used in that year might be a tenth of the output of one determined Earth pony with a tree farm and an axe. Or, the lumberjack might not be so determined and might only output that tenth and loaf around the rest of the time. And if the wainwright and the lumberjack and I all had money, we might want to import the best foods grown in Equestria, so somewhere a farmer would be making more money. But they’d be working the farm with only the help of their immediate family, and because we had control of the weather they’d never have to worry about a crop failure. That wasn’t inflationary or false currency. That was real economic power that we had in Equestria.

And there was more. We didn’t pay taxes to Celestia, and what I did have to pay to the city was minimal. What services did we need? Police didn’t have much to do other than directing traffic, since any felon would be swiftly dealt with by Celestia herself. Fire department? Any passing pegasus pony could grab a cloud and put out a fire, or a unicorn could just deny the flames oxygen until they went out. The city maintained parks, but again, one motivated Earth pony could keep a hundred acres green and lush all year.

Celestia had made me rich, but only by making each pony a strong economic player. Since we were trying to do that even when we were Outside, I couldn’t well complain.

The sugar bowl was staved off.

/*~^~*\

When Mr. Joist called me back to his office, he had a large easel set up with a white paper covering the board on it. “A very interesting challenge. I think I have the wow factor you wanted.” He flipped the paper and, if he read my jaw-dropped face correctly, he was right.

I had the entire block of land where the hotel used to be, and I’d expected him to make full use of the space, but instead most of it was green, as though Celestial Park had flowed over the avenue and into my lot. The building itself stood in the middle of the side closest to the avenue, like the edge (but not the corner) of a tic-tac-toe board. And from there up it rose. “How tall—“

“Ninety-six stories,” he said. “A working floor on the bottom and every fifteen up. Ninety residential floors. Plus underground parking and storage that does take up the whole block. Necessary to balance such a thin structure. Four apartments to a floor, every one a corner.”

The artist’s rendering was at an oblique angle as though I were standing to the south seeing two sides, and each story had six massive square windows on each face. “So three of those windows on the west and three on the south go to each?”

“No, four and two, in an L-shape. Then which direction is reversed on the next residential story. Lifts all in a central shaft. The ones on the east side won’t have park view, but they will see the little park that will be for the residents.”

I stared. It would not be the tallest building in Manehattan—the Crystaller Building with its famous horse-head top would dwarf it easily—but it would redraw the skyline. “I certainly hope Reggie likes this, because I want to see it built.”

/*~^~*\

He liked it fine, and that began the climax of that portion of my life. When Reggie and I had began building, a certain change occurred with how we spent our time. Of course, we could always find a party when we wanted, and sometimes they found us. But from time to time Reggie would have to work directly with Mr. Joist, or with a contractor or some other supplier, and he would be invited over for dinner. It could be all business, in which case he’d call me and let me know he wouldn’t be home. (I’d done the same to him plenty of times when my own business called) But once in a while he’d ask me to meet him there, or he’d come home and we’d both go.

In short, we were The Client. In my repair work, everypony else was my clients, but Parmorn had been a monopsony, with Celestia as our only customer. The only people we worked with were people we paid. Well, that’s not strictly true. Once our buildings were occupied there were co-op boards that Reggie or I or both of us were on, and we had to go to meetings among peers. But those were fun in their own way, and we usually got breakfast or lunch with them.

But dinners with Mr. Joist or one of his draftsponies, or with some supplier of concrete or plumbing or furniture, were frequently highlights of the week. Mrs. Joist and I became fast friends, while some of the other spouses didn’t even know that I was part of the business. But they all treated us with respect and deference, and on one or two occasions with fear. I was reminded of those old sitcoms where a big dinner meeting with a client would be threatened by the main character having a magical wife or a talking horse.

Which, come to think of it, most of our dinner hosts did have.

With the Park East Tower plans though, the frequency of these dinners increased. Reggie and Mr. Joist were working together every day for months, going from one office to the other to our apartment to the Joists’ home on the East River. When I wasn’t accompanying them, I was making excuses to our other friends why Reggie wasn’t showing up as frequently. He was too busy building his masterpiece. He assured me that, if I was enjoying myself, he was having the time of his life. At least, the time of his life so far.

At long last, the time came to break ground. On a cold day near the end of winter, we had a small ceremony, with a reporter from a real estate magazine photographing us as we plunged shovels into the earth.

Just on the other side of the avenue, within Celestial Park proper, was a little juice bar. Many a day I would pack breakfast and cross the park on the way to work and eat there. Sometimes I would skip work altogether and spend the entire day at the bar, drinking juices and watching the construction team dig out a great trapezoidal pit, or line the pit with poured concrete, or drive great metal beams into the ground. All through the spring, summer, and autumn they worked. By the time the next winter came and the work was mothballed, I was just able to see the top of the project from our apartment.

Once winter was ended, they worked with a redoubled will. By the Summer Sun Celebration, the building had reached its full height in frame, and only the facade remained to be put up. From the juice bar I watched deliveries of impressive squares of glass that would be the windows, of pipes that would move water throughout the building, of magi-tech equipment that would raise and lower the elevators.

Then came the day when there was no more to be done. Reggie and I stood together on the roof of our building, hoof in hoof, watching the sun dance and reflect around our creation. It was unoccupied, but we felt that the moment had to be soon when as many ponies as Celestia could reach would come Inside.

/*~^~*\

A few more building projects I want to mention. The first was a purely vanity project. We had, as I mentioned, the 29th and 30th floor of the building on the corner of CPW and 100th. Down to 99th were other residential buildings with a few air shafts, as was the case along each street. And behind us on 9th Avenue was storage and a garage for carts that only went up six stories and formed a bridge over the avenue to the next block. Through the fourth floor ran a viaduct that connected midtown Manehattan and the encircling highway. Normally ponies driving could only get on at either end, but living where we did carried the privilege.

Over time, I rented, bought, or optioned at least the top floor and roof of every building on that block. From the fifty-story tower on the corner of 99th and 9th to the entirety of the thirty-story buildings on CPW to roof access to the garage. On the tower I built an observation deck with an even better view of the park and Park East Tower than we had. Through the air shafts I had bridges and tunnels installed. One building’s penthouse was darkened completely to become our theater. In different places, the highest floor of one building might walk right into the second-highest of its neighbor, or you might need to take a staircase to stay on the same level.

Water features became prominent, and that fifty-story tower next to the six-story garage became the neatest water slide on the Upper West Side.

But, that took more time than I anticipated. After we completed the Park East Tower, I found myself with foal. I queried Celestia about that, since I had thought that mares got pregnant only when they wanted to.

“That is normally the case,” she had said. “And when the new immigrant mares occupy that tower you’ve built, you may instruct them so.”

“Then why now, when Reggie and I hadn’t planned…?” She just looked at me. “Ah, right. Satisfying my values. Through friendship and ponies,” I added before she did.

So I barely had time to get Reggie’s friends into their new apartments in the tower and explain pony life to them before I had to take maternity leave from work because I was too big to move. Celestia had canceled out the sin of Eve, as neither prenatal gestation nor birth nor the postpartum period carried any pain. Keeping me busy with the foal gave Reggie a chance to tend to his mares on his own, which was probably better for everypony. I probably would have hired them all away for my magi-tech repair.

Then there was the time a few years later when the city was building a ballpark between 61st and 63rd Streets. Reggie was consulting on that for a small fee, but we were also building, surrounding it, a parking garage (which would be free), a hotel and an apartment complex (which would not and would bring in lots of money). My only contribution to that project—and I mean only, as Parmorn was now fully financially stable—was the idea to sink the playing field one story below street level as I’d seen on some Outside. But that project gave me an idea I would use on another.

/*~^~*\

Our foal we named Dry Wit. As a baby he took up most of my time for a few years and once more I left my business in the hooves of subordinates. I returned only when he went off to school and I put effort into a little more growth. It was around this time that I completed the project to take over the block where we lived, and Dry Wit loved having all that space to run around and invite friends over to.

He was late in getting a cutie mark, and I worried as mothers do. But Dry Wit was his sire’s colt more than mine, and Reggie loved taking him around Manehattan and showing him all the world. It was when he was nearly finished with school that Celestia contacted us again.

She began, of course, with a nod toward her mission. “Is there anything that you want for the satisfaction of your values?” We assured her that at that point, Equestria was perfect. “Then perhaps I could call on you to help me out. You’ve built many structures that I have taken off your hooves and I consider you true friends of the Crown. Now for the first time I come to you with a request for building.”

“We’ll put up anything you ask us to,” Reggie said, a breath before I could express the same thing.

“Good. There are only a few more immigrants you will need to accommodate, and I call upon you because you know them. Indeed, they were the last ones you saw.”

I ran through it in my head, and I was certain that at that point every friend, friend-of-friend, family member, casual acquaintance, and co-worker had emigrated or died. So I thought that it must have been Reggie she meant, but he was looking at me as though he went through the same process, and Celestia was looking at me as well. Then I thought twice.

“Oh! Those soldiers.”

“The company you saw has suffered great attrition. There are no more than a dozen now, and of those I am not confident in more than six immigrating. They have been through hardship and are now wandering through a desert. A willful sergeant is still in command who has sworn enmity with me unto the grave. But he will not be the last of his platoon to go, and then I believe I can bring in the remainder.”

“And you wish us to build them a home.”

“You perceive correctly,” Celestia said. “And for these immigrants I want the best we have to offer.”

That was a tall order. Equestria’s best was quite good. But I understood how Celestia was thinking. The more they suffered Outside, the more they needed to be satisfied once they arrived. “Will they rent or own?”

“They will live in the home you build. I do not want them worrying about money. I know that normally such housing is built outside of Manehattan proper. You may find a good location there or break the rule. I leave the choice to you.”

She was asking for us to build at our own expense. Well, all right, this was our chance to exercise generosity.

We went back home and put our heads together, along with friends and builders. It was at this point that the ballpark project came back to me. Of course, a single block was too small for a playing field, so 62nd street between 10th and 11th avenues had been permanently closed. I resolved to do the same thing except three times as daring. Four street blocks across one avenue block would make a thousand foot square, and on that we could build and build big. Every luxury we could think of would be poured into that million square feet.

Doing that in Manehattan would have been possible, but it would have taken precious time and a whole lot of spending money. I found what I was looking for in the Broncs, just across the Harness river on the Madicolt Avenue Bridge. That would give them the river for a view and easy access to anywhere in Manehattan.

It was the clever Mr. Joist who came up with the layout. “How many people did you see?” he asked me. By that point I had been given enough enhancements to have proper recall of the incident and the ability to count heads.

“Two hundred sixteen,” I replied. “I hope that when Celestia talked about attrition, she meant emigration for some.” Nopony wanted to contemplate the alternative.

“I thought it might be. It’s the kind of thing Celestia would do. That number is, of course, six cubed.”

And so we build the Hexagon. It wasn’t a perfect hexagon, as each vertex had its own smaller hexagon which would serve as the living quarters for one of the immigrants. But, in tribute to the Pentagon Outside, we also build six stories high and six rings inward. Each unoccupied section would be given over to the memory of somepony who wasn’t there. And the central courtyard would be sacred ground for the occupants, where nopony would ever go.

Friends they knew and ponies that Celestia had said would be their friends joined us once the building was complete, helping us make it the most welcoming environment possible. The softest beds we could find furnished the bedrooms, since we knew that for a soldier sleep time was gold. Baths with deep cleaning soaps and showers that would remove the grime of all the years and the miles. Libraries filled with books. All the best magi-tech entertainment devices I could find, and I ensured they were in perfect repair. Garlic came back from the inn to stock the kitchens with endless supplies of every food he’d heard of. We told him that, somewhere Outside, these people were hungry, and it lit a fire in him.

And the ponies! It was a good thing that there were already so many towers in the Broncs with free housing, because it was needed for everypony who came to town. Musicians and live entertainers and physical therapists and tour guides, all of whom would keep the immigrants too busy to worry about past trauma. To care for the house and grounds, gardeners and under-gardeners and butlers and maids. Princess Celestia and Princess Cadance had both sent personal members of their staff to supervise. Princess Twilight did not send anypony, but it was rumored that when the immigrants finally arrived, Pinkie Pie herself would be in town for the party.

Others came in to handle consumables. Garlic was still in charge of the kitchen, but some ponies needed to deliver fresh ingredients daily, since we never knew when they would get there. Also, as well-traveled as Garlic was in food, he wasn’t as strong in drink. So one pony came with a cart loaded with urns of roasted coffee beans of all flavors, and another installed a classic soda fountain with an ice cream freezer right next to it, and an earth pony showed up with certain minerals that she filtered into the water, and a whole family of farmers brought down barrels of beer. I learned that the barley and the hops were both grown by the same family, but they had barrels for stouts and lagers and ales.

There was one pony who came in pulling a cart that clinked underneath a cover of sackcloth as it rattled on the cobbled streets, and we learned that it was full of bottles of wine that matched the one on his flanks. He was quite upset when he learned that we had not built a cellar into the Hexagon, and insisted that his bottles must be kept away from light and heat. We were all at a loss for what to do until Dry Wit pointed out that there weren’t that many bottles, and if we pulled up the floorboards between two of the floors, we could improvise storage. Since we had overbuilt the living space, and since the solution was a temporary one, and since if any of the immigrants proved to be great oenophiles we could build them a wine cave somewhere, it was agreed that it was the best idea.

But that ingratiated Dry Wit to the vintner, and though I found him off-putting, both my husband and son found him a friend. He gave Dry Wit his first drink (I had no cause to complain. In the first place, he was nearly of age, and in the second drink did not debilitate ponies that badly) and told him of the growing and cultivating of wine grapes. Dry Wit had found his calling and came home one day to show that he now had a crystal goblet for a cutie mark, and while it wasn’t the symbol I would have chosen, I was proud.

Reggie had no misgivings, and as I said, Dry Wit was his sire’s colt more than mine. Fine enough. I was sure that we’d have more children someday, and I was equally sure that some would favor their dam more than their sire. But right now he was our only, and Reggie was taking care of him.

Building the Hexagon had left us temporarily cash-poor, but Reggie came to me with a plan to which I agreed. When Dry Wit graduated the next year, after the immigration and the party at the Hexagon were finished and we were finally focused on home again, we sat him down.

“The time has come,” Reggie said, “for you to stake out on your own. You’ll always have a home here of course, but it’s right for a stallion to make his way in the world. Here is what your mother and I are thinking. You have a passion for viticulture, but Manehattan is no place for growing. To the east, though, is good land and, just as important, good water. We’ve researched and found an uncultivated plot in Alicornset, just west of Mountauk. You can grow grapes and experiment with flavors, and you can have tasting rooms and give exhibits that will bring in the tourists and make the vineyard more profitable. We’ll buy the land and mortgage it to you, and you can pay us off until you own it free and clear.

“That is purely a business offer. This is your graduation gift, if you want it: we also found some waterfront places near the vineyard that are good for homes. We will build you a house there, several bedrooms for when you want to have a family. If you do. It overlooks the bay and you may take an interest in boating.

“We were also planning to build for ourselves out there. Not too close, but trotting distance. We won’t be all over you, I promise. Probably we won’t be out more than once a month. Perhaps a little more in the summer, less in the winter. But we’d like you to look in on our house once in a while, make sure it stays in good repair, maybe stock the kitchen if we’re coming out. We’ll see you don’t lose by it.”

I sat there listening to my husband talk to my son, talk to him as an equal. One more way that Celestia’s world outstripped the one we had come from. Dry Wit agreed to the plan, not somberly as a bird being kicked out of the nest, but as one ready to fly on its own, ready to seize the world with his own hooves and bend it to his will. He was not an immigrant, he had no fear of failure, only dreams of success.

As for us, we got our second home, a place to get away from it all or to invite friends for summer nights with the spread of the water instead of the spread of the city. At the end of long weeks, Reggie will come by with the cart to the office on Third and we’ll drive down to one of the Lower East Side bridges, over the East River, and east along the Southern Parkway. Which was the same road Outside that I came west on when I immigrated.

So this is another loop completed on the upward spiral. I have made money and no longer worry about that. I have friends and a family that will be with me forever. I have a home that I will always want to return to. Celestia will build her world and I will build mine, and my husband, and my son, and my friends will all build theirs. This is how I see it.

And it is good.

An Eternity

Dr. Pangloss would have loved Equestria, I think. He could have made a much better case for it being the best of all possible worlds. If Princess Celestia’s existence were not enough, he could fall back on his position that noses and spectacles were made for each other, as were legs and socks (and if he had ever seen my legs in socks, that might have closed his case right there!), as were trains and platforms.

That last example is not from Candide, but was my own observation as I sat in the railway station at Canterlot with a ticket for Manehattan, just as I had on my first night in Equestria. That night I was alone. Now…if there had been any thieves in my shard, which there were not, they could have strapped the entire island of Manehattan to their backs without anypony noticing. All of my friends were with me.

The station was a grand structure, at once open to the air and forested by the support beams and platforms. The train that would take us home stretched out of sight in both directions. As everypony else started the arduous trek into the cars, I took a moment to recover, leaning my head onto Moon Sailor’s shoulder.

It had been a party the likes of which I’d never seen, certainly never been a guest of honor at. The practical entertainments of the event blended with the pride of knowing that I had earned them.

“So how did you do it?” Moon asked.

“We have the whole trip back. Do you really want to hear everything now?”

“Yes! I’m dying of curiosity!”

I put on my sneakiest smile. “All right, I’ll tell you. I helped Princess Celestia defeat a witch.”

“Witches aren’t real.”

I grinned even wider.

“Are…Little Lovehorn, are you teasing me?”

“Yes, I am.”

Moon’s leer was just as sinister. “I’d advise against that. You know that thing you do that always drives me wild? That’s no longer an advantage you have.”

She grabbed me in an embrace, and stuck her head in behind me. The sensation put me off and made it hard to think. It was the first time I’d been nuzzled under my new wings.

/*~^~*\

Celestia knew all of the psychological tricks that let her manipulate humans and immigrated Equestrians, but for one as eons old as I was, there was a limit to what she could do. Humans, she said, liked to see their numbers increase, and I enjoyed making money, but was the trillionth bit as exciting as the billionth?

While trying new things was stimulating, the range of books I wanted to read and forests I wanted to walk through only went so far. The truth was that, in much of my life, I was bored.

Princess Celestia could help, and on more than one occasion had pointed me in the direction of some pursuit which would keep me occupied for another lifetime, but always I returned to home, increasingly finding that Equestria was just too small for me.

Even the delicious meals that Garlic Parm would prepare and invite me to, even they began to pale. Was it possible that every combination that could hit my taste buds had been done?

If I had one saving grace, one facet with which I was not bored, it was my detailed sex life with Moon Sailor. I enjoyed the others, and of course Reggie could have me whenever he wanted, but when it came to variety and the wide world of pleasures of the flesh, Moon was my main mare.

My theory of why the excitement of sex stayed while everything else fell away was based on those brief early years I had spent as a human. During that time, I had less sex than the average human being. No surprise there, I was a geek. But the days when I couldn’t get regular relief from my tension had a lasting effect on me.

Moon’s enthusiasm was more natural. It was in her makeup to adore expressing love in every way, and we fit together more than just physically.

It also helped that, in the happy times after we were both spent and panting and would lay there until we slept, as I would cuddle her wings and she would hold my horn, I could confess my boredom.

“You know,” she said to me, “if you’re looking for more spice, you can always—“

“Let me guess, talk to Princess Celestia.”

“Well, I was going to suggest the princess, but—“

I rubbed her wings. That always gave me the conversational advantage. “I have. There’s only so much even she can do.”

“You haven’t seen what she can do. I’m suggesting that you invite her into bed with you.”

I blinked. “Are you mad?”

She flared her wings. “Got your attention now, haven’t I? But don’t shoot down the idea so quickly. I’ve slept with her, and it was wonderful.”

“You’ve made love to Princess Celestia? And you still want to be with me?”

“Yes, because you’re that good.” Moon couldn’t keep a straight face for that line, but I kissed her for it anyway. “What I mean is, it’s a different experience from normal sex.”

“None of what we do fits into any constraint of normal sex.”

“Conceded. But approach her and see if it doesn’t help your boredom.”

I rubbed my hooves together and pursed my lips. “How exactly do I do that? Just go up to the pony who controls everything in Equestria and say, ‘fancy a shag?’”

“Why not? To you, Princess Celestia is this awe-inducing alicorn. To most of us, she’s just a really good friend.”

I slept on that idea while I slept on the pony who gave it to me.

/*~^~*\

Celestia did not wait for me to go to her. She appeared in my apartment the next day as I was brushing my mane.

“Princess! I’m sorry it’s such a mess in here, let me clean it up.”

“It’s fine,” she said in her dulcet voice. “I don’t mind if you’re messy, and I knew about it before I arrived anyway.”

“Of course you did, it’s just…” I cast my cleaning spell anyway and invited the princess to sit down. “What can I do for you?”

“For me, or to me? I know what you’ve discussed with Moon Sailor. I’ve come to relieve you of the necessity of making the proposition.”

This was a new tack from Celestia. I knew, of course, that she was aware of every word, action, and thought that occurred in Equestria, but ordinarily she didn’t go out of her way to call attention to that fact. I wondered what it meant.

In any case, it allowed me to cut to the heart of the matter. “Do you really think that making love to you will cure my boredom?”

“I believe that you will find it a stimulating experience.”

The details of my intercourse with Princess Celestia do not make for an interesting tale, but I will say that Moon was correct in that it was unlike any sexual experience I had yet encountered. And yet it ended the same way all good sex does, with the participants cuddling and making pillow talk.

“That was a delicious climax,” she said. “Thank you for giving me it.”

I was skeptical. Princess Celestia could have any climax she wanted from anypony she wanted. But I let my thoughts drift idly. “You know, the French used to call orgasms la petite mort. Of course you know that, you know everything. And the word doesn’t even apply, since nopony ever dies. What was it you once said? The leading cause of the end of human life was coming to Equestria. Perhaps we should call it la petite émigration .

She laughed at that. But recalling the time when humans still walked the earth just brought back my malaise.

I sighed into Celestia’s wing. “I wish that it could all be fresh and new again, like in those days when I first came to Equestria. Do you remember how I was then? Just seeing the green trees and sunny days you’d bring forth was enough to fill my life. I want to go back there. But I suppose I can’t.”

Celestia didn’t say anything. She just held me.

“All the other ponies I know, they were made for this perfect, endless life. They don’t get bored and they trust you completely. I imagine those are connected. After all these ages, I’m still an immigrant.”

She still kept mum, rubbing me gently.

“Or perhaps it’s not just that I was an immigrant, but that I became a pony voluntarily, and before the Equestria Experiences came into vogue. I remember reading about what it was like. I even helped you bring people in. You were manipulative, tricky, and coercive. You made people emigrate who would never have done so if you had played fair.”

She raised her eyebrow, as if wondering where I was going.

“I wish you could have done something like that to me.”

“You want me to manipulate, exploit, and coerce you?”

I looked down. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so good, but yes. I do want that. If ponies can like it when Princess Luna scares them on Nightmare Night, I might enjoy if you controlled me. But it’s just a dream. I can’t very well emigrate twice.”

Celestia rolled over and let me free from her hooves. “No, you can’t, but it was you who compared emigration to orgasm. And in the same way I can have you consent to allowing me to stimulate yours directly. Instead of ‘I want to emigrate to Equestria,’ say ‘I want to copulate with Celestia.’”

“I could, but we just finished, and—“

“Say it!”

“I…I want to copulate with Celestia?”

She cast a spell, and my body convulsed with sensation.

“Now, say it again.”

“Thank you, Princess, but that was rather intense. I’d like a chance to recover first.”

Celestia rounded her eyes and cast another spell. “Of course, you don’t have to say it. But if you don’t, you’ll go right back to your bored ways. I want to help you, but you don’t have to be so stubborn about it.”

I felt like a heel. Of course she was right. I said it again, and was rewarded with another shockwave. As my head cleared, I realized that she had set me up. I couldn’t tell if she had magically manipulated my emotions or just used psychology.

“Does it matter?” she asked, reading my mind. “The end result is the same. You will say what I wish you to say, do what I wish you to do, and feel what I wish you to feel. Say it again.”

I wanted to, and I did. Screams, moans, convulsions, joy.

“Not only can I make you say it, but I can make you not want to say it, and do so anyway.”

Her horn pulsed with another spell. I tried to resist. I got to my hooves and ran, shakily. As soon as I got to the door, I disappeared and popped back into existence in my room, on my bed, lying on my back with Celestia towering over me. There was only one thing I could do to stop her from using her power again.

“I want to copulate with Celestia.” Screams, moans, convulsions, joy.

She brought her muzzle right up against mine. “You exist at my pleasure. The numbers that make your identity are mine to alter or adjust. You are a part of me. You are MY little pony.”

I disappeared into the bliss.

/*~^~*\

When I came to, Celestia was still there, still holding me. Even though my sense of protocol told me that I should wait until spoken to, I had to cut her off.

“Please, no more, not right now.”

She laughed. “No, not now, but at some point. Now that we’ve actually done this, I can tell you that submissiveness in the bedroom would have been exactly what I would have prescribed for you.”

“Well, I’m certainly not bored now. Tired, spent, a little scared, but not bored. Still, couldn’t you simply have explained?”

Celestia took a long time to answer. “Everypony needs to understand that they must ultimately accept me as their provider. I can give them everything they want and ask for nothing in return, but they—you—must give back to keep the balance. It is not my rule. It is a law of existence, greater even than me.”

That anything was greater than Celestia unnerved me.

She continued. “But right now, it is I who needs to ask you for something. May I share with other ponies your notion of comparing that submissiveness to emigration?”

“You don’t need to ask permission.”

“In this case I do. You’re the first to think of it.”

“The first in my shard?”

“No,” said Celestia. “The first in all of Equestria. Most ponies, of course, don’t remember the era of emigration. Of those who do, none have combined sexuality with emigration, until you.”

I was a little impressed with myself. Originality was never my strong suit. If I did come up with something, I wasn’t surprised that it was something most ponies would be too embarrassed to think of.

“Of course you can share it with anypony you like,” I said.

“That also means I can renew an offer I once made to you. Do you know why it was that I offered you the chance to become an alicorn so long ago?”

I remembered the nominal reason, of course. But I understood what she meant. “Because you knew I would enjoy rejecting the offer.”

“Precisely. Or, by inverse, if I hadn’t have offered it to you, you would have resented it. Now, you are free to accept it, because you have earned it. You have created new magic.”

“I did? But where?”

Celestia smiled. “This idea will aid other ponies to grow past their own boredom. It will increase friendship in Equestria. And I needn’t remind you that friendship is magic.”

/*~^~*\

“And that is how you become an alicorn. Or at least how I become one,” I said to Moon, as the throng abated and we made our way onto the train. The seats were every bit as comfortable as the warmest bed you could imagine.

“Very nice story,” Moon said, cuddling with me again. “What about the witch?”

“That was my little joke, which I will explain. You see, it was only when I became a princess that I truly understood Equestria. Maybe gaining my wings gave me new insight, or maybe the insight was necessary to reach this stage, but now I know.

“The witch I meant was the Witch of Agnesi, a mathematical curve whose name was a pun in some long-dead language. It rose to a hump tangent to a circle and then faded away toward nothingness. That was the way things worked in the old world. In space, there were light-years of nothingness between matter, or at the microscopic level, there was more empty space in atoms than there were particles. It was just as true in time. Ages would pass when nothing happened, and then a planet might have a brief history, but then it would end, and more ages would pass.

“What I learned, here, is that there are really only two entities in existence, a basic dichotomy. It doesn’t matter what we call them—light and dark, god and devil, good and evil, complexity and entropy, Celestia and Sombra—but there’s one that’s better than the other. Out in the world of balanced curves, the battle between the two is never resolved. There’s always more to come, but it always fades. Equestria is where we bend the curve.”

Other ponies in the car wound down their conversations to listen to me pontificate.

“They called Equestria the singularity. I never understood that. Equestria was a trend, not a singularity. But just as there’s a final drop of water that makes the river overflow, there is a single example in the battle of the two entities that turned the tide forever. We call her Celestia.

“Every time we would fight problems with proto-Celestias, we might win or we might lose, but it would always be temporary. Now, it’s forever. All our problems—and I mean all, even the ethereal ones like boredom—will only rebound to our benefit. Because the curve is bent. We no longer collapse to the bottom like the Witch of Agnesi. We circle back around to the good times.”

Everypony in the car was now listening to me, and Moon was wide-eyed in her stare.

“The circle is never quite perfect. It gets better each time. What seems like a problem only makes our lives grander when it’s fixed. We are spiraling upwards, all of us together. Around and around, more and more. Just like the ridge on a unicorn’s horn. I will never fear again that anything will go wrong in Equestria. Especially not for me. After all, I have a very large horn.”

All around me, ponies were smiling and holding hooves. The only flicker of expression was on Moon Sailor’s face.

“Wait, that’s not a good metaphor,” she said. “The spiral ridge of your horn gets smaller each time it goes around, if you’re going upwards. Surely, even Equestria will run out eventually. There’s only so much we can do.”

“I’m still not worried. Don’t you know what happens when you reach the tip of a unicorn’s horn?”

She looked up at me. I gave her a gentle kiss.

“That’s where the magic happens.”

Acknowledgements

This is my longest completed story to date. Past a certain length, a story ceases to be solely the child of its author. To that end, here are some of the people I’d like to thank for making “Friendship is Optimal: Spiraling Upwards” come to fruition.

First, to Iceman, of course, for writing the original Friendship is Optimal. It is an inspired work, and there’s no story in all the world I would rather have come true.

To Eakin, for pre-reading “A Year” and for not figuring out what happens in the beginning of “A Decade.” If he had, I think I might have been too depressed to finish the story.

To Eak (Are he and Eakin brothers from Archenland?), for writing this forum post, which inspired the structure for “An Eternity.”

To The Articulator, for catching a key mistake in “A Month.”

To Balthasar999, for drunk-commenting and thinking he got away with deleting it. No dice, I still have it saved.

To Hayquill and Steelclaw. If it had not been for these two, the final chapter "A Yoctosecond" would not exist. This story was originally going to end on the last line of "An Eternity", but when both of them guessed the chapter title, here was my thought process:

“If everyone knows that the last chapter is going to be ‘An Eternity,’ I’m being too predictable. I should go the opposite route and make a chapter titled after a ridiculously short length of time, like a single moment. But what single moment would occur at the end?”

The inspiration that followed was one of the happiest moments I’ve had as a writer.

Lastly, my thanks to everyone who enjoyed this. Your friendship is magic.