Right as I walk into the nearly empty room, four pairs of eyes quickly turn to me. Great, just what I need. Tons of attention.

I meekly sit in the only empty chair left in the room, which is facing a big, black screen. Almost right as I sit down, the door opens, and two guys dressed in white lab coats walk in and to the front, right by the screen.

“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” the first one says in a heavy German accent. He’s pretty fat and old, with a bush of hair on his upper lip that would put a weed garden to shame. “I am Doctor Heisler, and I am a professor of physics at the University of Berlin.”

The second man is smaller, younger, and clean-shaven. “And I am Doctor Ketner.," he says, "Professor of genetics at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.” I decide I like him better, seeing as I can actually understand what he’s saying.

“Now,” Dr. Heisler says, “I bet you are all wondering why you are here, no?”

We all just nod our heads slightly. For the first time, I get a good look at who else is here; a teenage guy, a tan guy probably a year or two older than me, a middle-aged woman who looks incredibly pale, and an older man, probably in his 70s.

The screen lights up, and a chart containing what look like a ton of little tubes appears. Each tube has a partner that looks pretty similar to it, and each pair is numbered 1 through 22. There is a single tube by itself labeled X, and another one labeled y. Dr. Ketner replaces Dr. Heisler’s position at the screen.

“As some of you might know,” he starts, pointing at the screen, “This is called a karyotype. Karyotypes are used to pick out the chromosomes in an individual and arrange them to make sure everything’s okay. A normal human, for example, has 46 chromosomes in each of their cells. Does anybody know why you’ve all been called here today?”

Nobody speaks up.

“Well, you’re all here because you have an abnormal number of chromosomes in your body. Instead of the normal 46, all of you have 48.”

“Wait,” the tan guy speaks up, “Isn’t that what Down’s Syndrome is? Having too many chromosomes? If I have too many, how come I don’t have any health problems?”

The doctor’s eyes glistened at this, almost as if he prepared himself the whole night before for someone to ask that. “I’m glad you asked that question, sir. You see, syndromes dealing with chromosome number mean that you have too many of one kind. Naturally, you’re supposed to have two of each type. Syndromes occur when someone is born with three or one of a certain type. Not you five. You see, you all have two completely new chromosomes. Ergo, your genetic makeup is not altered.”

There’s murmuring amongst the other people here. Could I really be some freak of nature? Every time I’ve been to the doctor, they’ve never found anything wrong with me.

“On a side note, have any of you ever heard of something called a ‘brony’?”

My mind pops at the word. I recognize it somewhere from my 21st century history class. “Weren’t they like…” I try to remember, “Some sort of cult or something?”

“Not quite,” he replies, still smiling at my attempt. “The term referred to adult men who watched a franchise called ‘My Little Pony’.” Ponies? That seems pretty unmanly, really. “They quickly grew, and established a great culture of music, literature, and art on the Internet. All the works they made were influenced by the show, and some very talented people had a hand in contributing to their wonderful and rich culture. Sadly, though, the entirety of the Internet crashed in the year 2097, and we haven’t been able to access it since. Many of the great works produced by them are lost, possibly forever.”

“Okay,” the older man asks, “But what does a bunch of men 400 years ago have to do with us?”

“You see, soon after men started becoming more and more engrossed into the culture of the program, their bodies started…changing, on the genetic level. They grew two completely new chromosomes, but they remained the same, physically and mentally. It perplexed doctors for a while, but since the individuals weren’t in any danger, they flat out stopped researching the cases. But the extra two chromosomes remained, inherited from paternity. Even up to today. You’re all descendants of bronies.”

Oh, god. As if being an Indian with a European last name isn’t bad enough, now I find out I’m the heir of some dude that passed his free time being captivated by ponies. How humiliating. Maybe they’re even the same person. The thought of such makes me shudder.

Dr. Heisler walks up to the screen, and it changes to some scientific stuff I don’t even know where to begin. “Recently, some of the top scientists around the globe managed to discover a way to make portals to other planes of existence. Whether these lie in the same universe as ours or not, we do not know. We only have limited knowledge of the portals or what lies beyond them. But, what we have figured out is that there is one portal in particular that leads to an area very similar to that of Earth. This means it has the ability to support life, and upon further testing, we calculated that there is a 99.9999997% chance there is life beyond the portal.”

I’m still lost. They seem to be lecturing us on two different topics; one about weird genetic mutations stemmed from fictional horses, and the other about inter-dimensional portals. Did I just walk into a bad sci-fi movie?

“However,” he continues, “It appears that not just anyone is able to travel between Earth and whatever lies on the other side of the portal. Inanimate objects have no problems, but living beings do. There is only one specie that is able to travel through them; humans that are descendents of a brony.”

I swear, the science here just keeps getting worse and worse.

“You see,” Dr. Ketner says, “For whatever reason, only humans with the extra two chromosomes are able to go through the portals. The two chromosomes appear not to be functional, but rather act as some sort of…tag, deciding who is and isn’t able to pass. There are only twelve cases of the mysterious ‘Brony Chromosomes’, if you will, left in the world. You are the only five that volunteered for the task of going beyond that portal and becoming the first humans ever to see extraterrestrial life. If we’re lucky, there might even be another sentient race out there! How fascinating would that be?”

Even though he’s getting pretty over-the-top in excitement, I do have to admit that being the first human to ever meet aliens would be pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll get a Nobel Prize for it! Well, probably not. Dr. Ketner or Heisler probably would, instead. But still, I’d be proof that the experiment worked, so that’s like winning one, right?

“Okay,” he says, moving with Dr. Heisler to the door, “We’ll be back soon enough. We have to go get some things, and then we’ll brief all of you on what it is we’ll have you do. Why don’t you five get to know each other? You’re all one big team, now.”

We all take his advice, getting up and going to some of the other members. I find myself first talking with the teenager, whose name is Will and lives in some town in Illinois I’ve never heard of. He’s fifteen, but surprisingly mature and well spoken for his age.

Next, I go to the old guy. His name’s Dick and is a retired pharmacist that lives in Phoenix. When I find out he’s also originally from the Mitten, we exchange some friendly small talk.

The next person I meet is the pale woman, who doesn’t speak a lot of English. What I do manage to get out of her is that her name is Nadiya, lives in Moscow and is a stay-at-home mom to three sons. Even though we can’t communicate a ton, she certainly does seem nice enough to be around.

Finally, the tan guy. Even though I don’t want to, I guess I have to be amicable to him. He just seems too…fake, and having a tan in the dead of winter isn’t helping his case at all.

“Hey there,” he says, “My name’s Jay Morrison. Who are you?”

“I’m Keerthana,” I reply, trying hard not to smack him for no clear reason.

“Keerthana What?” he asks me back.

“What?”

“I’m trying to find out your last name,” he clarifies. Okay, that’s a bit creepy. I didn’t ask anyone else what theirs was. I guess I just thought it was unimportant.

Instead, I decide to see where I can go with this. “Why?” I ask.

“Come on!” he says jovially, “We’re a team now! We’re going to some alien world, how cool will that be? If we’re going to be the first five people to ever see aliens, I want to know who I’m doing it with!”

Jay almost seems to be trying too hard at this. Still, I apparently slip up and say it to him.

“Griffis?” he asks dramatically. “What sort of a surname is that for an Indian woman?”

This guy just really does not know when to quit, does he? Still, I should explain it to him. We’re going to be stuck together for god knows how long, no need to be an ass to him. Well, not to his face, at least. “It’s not that great of a story,” I say. “I’m like, 1/512th Caucasian. Guess the name has just stuck throughout multiple generations. It’s supposedly been something of a taboo, but I don’t mind it al all. It’s a nice name.”

Wait, did I say that last part or think it? Please tell me I thought that.

“So anyways,” he continues, “Where are you from?”

“Michigan,” I say flatly, “And you?”

“Queensland.” Well, I guess that might explain the tan. Still, I feel as though my clothes would become a sickly shade of orange if I get too close.

The doctors come back in, each holding a small tablet computer. Dr. Heisler comes to me and says something I can hardly understand. I stare at him blankly for a few moments, then realize he wants me to put my hand on the tablet. When I do, it gives me a tiny electrical shock. It’s not painful or anything, but my first reaction is to pull my hand away. It seems to be stuck. Watch, with my luck, all this trouble is actually some elaborate prank for a dude to glue me to a computer.

When he presses a button on the screen, my hand is released and I can see what’s there. A perfect imprint of my hand. They’re probably scanning it for some reason. Sure enough, I see Dr. Ketner with Dick’s hand on his tablet. When they finish and get everyone’s handprint, they walk back over to the screen.

“Okay,” Dr. Ketner says, “We will now be taking you to the facility where you’ll be trained to go on the mission. You’ll all be briefed on exactly what they’ll teach you when you get there.” He walks to the door and opens it, signaling us to go out. We all walk to the elevator and wait inside. The doctors follow us, and we soon find ourselves on the main floor of the UN.

Well, I can only guess we’re on the first floor; I can’t see anything outside the elevator except a huge mass of soldiers. “Follow me,” one of them says.

Almost as soon as we step out, the rest of the troops move fluidly to make a thick circle around us. If this is what being on their good side is like, I’d hate to see what having them pissed at you is.

After a few minutes of walking and having tourists point at us confusedly, we arrive at our destination, which is a small maglev train car that looks like it could only fit a few people.

The soldiers fan out and make some sort of tunnel that leads us right to the open door. The inside’s actually not that notable. There’s a small bench on the wall with three cushions, and two single ones on the opposite wall. Outside of that, there’s nothing else but the lights in the car. They don’t even have windows.

I take one of the solitary cushions, and Nadiya takes the other. The doors close, and we start moving. I finally decide to break the awkward silence.

“Okay,” I ask, putting my hand up, “Who else here finds this whole story to be a little hard to believe?”

Everyone’s right hand darts up, save Nadiya’s. But I imagine that's because she can’t understand what I just asked.

Will is the first to speak. “I don’t know. It all just seems too…futuristic.”

“I had to take a genetics class in med school,” Dick says, “And I’ve never heard of those extra chromosomes they were talking about.”

“And portals, really?” Jay almost yells, trying to comprehend the idea of such. “That’s something straight out of science fiction. I doubt we even have the technology to figure out whether or not we even have the technology to see if they’re even possible! What’s next, this alien world is inhabited by talking dragons?” We all laugh a little at the possibility of dragons, let alone talking ones.

The train jerks to a stop, making me almost fall out of my seat. Jay actually does. Even though everyone’s laughing at him (I tone it down after I realize I sound more spiteful than the others), he’s joining in on it too. Great, now he’s also one of those guys who likes to mess around? I just hope he doesn’t laugh at his own jokes.

The doors open again, but this time it’s different. Instead of a whole platoon of heavily armored guards, it’s just one, but he doesn’t even look armed. He’s wearing some uniform that looks similar to the normal armor, but less protective and more aesthetic. Probably some commander or other higher-up.

“Hello!” he says brightly, “I am General Kochan, and I have been placed in charge of preparing you five for the mission you will face. And let me say, I am thoroughly excited to be working with you all!”

We all plainly respond with greetings of our own, and then he leads us out of the windowless platform and into the main hall of the facility.

I get sort of a sickly feeling as I see what’s outside the building, but nevertheless, it’s gorgeous. The entire station is underwater.

“Now,” he says, pointing at the wall of glass about 100 yards ahead of us, “As you can see, the station is completely underwater. The only conventional way in our out is the train station, making this one of the most secure locations on the globe.”

Judging by the small amount of light flickering far up, I’d say we’re only a couple hundred feet down or so. Still, the water pressure would be enough to squish us if it broke. Wait, that’s kind of a morbid way of putting it. It doesn’t make it any less true though, does it? I try not to think about it.

He leads us through the entrance chamber, which looks somewhat like a fancy hotel lobby. There’s a pretty long counter to our right, and to the left, a carpeted area with some couches and chairs. A giant version of the UN logo is built into the ground we’re walking on.

General Kochan leads us to what I assume to be the elevators. However, when he pushes the button for where to go, I hear a noise like a vacuum being sealed. This isn’t an elevator; this is a submarine.

Sure enough, it is. Through the glass back, I can see a bay door open and water rush in. When it’s completely filled, the sub detaches and starts floating through the middle of the ocean.

General Kochan starts explaining to us the history of the base, but none of us are really paying too much attention. I got the gist of it, though. It started as a base for top-secret military technology, with only a lab, barracks, and small apartment complex for scientists. Now though, it has lots of other stuff. There’s even a mock neighborhood for people that are stationed here and have families. How cool would it be to live here?

When we reach our destination, the bay door closes and all the seawater drains. The building we’ve entered is a small hallway with only a few doors. Strangely, there are a few people here wearing doctor’s scrubs, almost seeming as though they're anticipating our arrival.

“Well, that’s all I need you for today,” the general calls to us from inside the sub, “Tomorrow’s when we actually start training. For the rest of today, I want all of you to get acquainted with the facilities. You may stay here if you like, or check out some of the other buildings we have. All expenses will be paid for you while you are here. Have fun!”

The doctors all start walking toward us. “Give me your left arm,” the one that comes to me says.

Instead of asking why, I decide to instead just give it to him. He pulls out something that looks like a syringe, but…different. And I can’t exactly explain how. Still, it stings like one when he puts it in and injects me with something.

“What was that?” I ask. “Some sort of underwater vaccination?”

“No,” he laughs, “It’s a chip that will change the way you sleep somewhat. It will automatically wake you up when we need you to. It also amplifies your R.E.M. sleep cycle, making you feel more rested for getting the same amount of sleep.”

More rested? Where was this thing when I was in college? After I start thinking of how I could smuggle this back to school, the doctors all stand at the door, obviously waiting for a sub to come. I find the room with my name on a plaque over it, put my hand on the scanner, and walk through the newly opened doorway.

The room’s decent size and fairly open. There’s a bed with my bags on it facing an entertainment center that has a TV there. On the far side of the room is a desk facing the wall, with a clock above it. It’s only about 8 in the morning. This time yesterday, I was moaning in history class. That seems like eons ago.

I go to the nightstand by the bed, and see there’s an interface built into the top of it. Curious, I turn it on. There are some normal things on it, like a clock or map of the base, but what catches my eye is the “room modifier”. What could it modify? I click on the icon, and a huge list pops up with all sorts of themes I can supposedly choose to use. There are settings for scenery, season, and even the weather. Even though the view of the ocean is nice, I decide to go with a sunny, summer forest.

Right in front of my eyes, the room transforms itself into a warm, lush forest. If there weren’t still the bed, nightstand, entertainment center, my stuff, and the desk, I actually would believe I’m in the middle of the wilderness. I run my hand down the trunk of one of the trees near me. It’s rough and uneven, and its texture is just like real bark. The grass feels completely normal, and the ground’s the slightest bit uneven. I restore the settings to default, and just as easily as it had come, the forest vanishes back into nothing.

I promise to myself that I’ll play around with the settings a little more later. First, I probably really should check out what they have to offer down here. I bring my stolen toiletries to the bathroom, which is plain enough. Then, I change out of my formal clothes and settle instead into my senior class t-shirt from high school and some jeans. Realizing I now look silly, I head back into the bathroom to wash all the makeup off my face. Now the formality level of my head matches the rest of my body.

I head into the hallway, which now is empty. I press the button for a submarine, and it comes pretty quickly. Now, where to go? The park catches my attention, as do the movie theater and football fields, although I’m not sure which kind of football they mean. Instead of going to one of those, I opt instead for the library.

After a short ride, I get there and am instantly dazzled. They have shelves upon shelves of books, and I don’t even know where to begin. Well, I actually do. The English section. But after that, what to do? They’ve even got the English section split into American, British, Irish, Australian, and Canadian authors. I decide to go into the British section, where I’m met with even more categories. Let’s try…classics.

Unfortunately, I can say I recognize a lot of the authors down here. Shakespeare, Tolkein, Dickens, Carroll, the list just goes on. I decide on Casino Royale, A Study in Scarlet, and Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Even though I had to read all three for my Brit Lit class in junior year, none of them are really that bad. I unplug the tablets they’re on and try to find my way out.

When I bring them to checkout, I realize something. How will I get these? Is there some sort of library card I need to get first? Or will my handprint do? I guess there’s one way to find out. I put them into the slot, and they appear on the screen, all ready to go. When I’ve got them all there, I put my hand on the very conveniently placed and (I'm sure) totally coincidental scanner by the monitor’s right. I pick up my new books and head to the sub. Realizing I haven’t had anything to eat yet, I go to the food court, where I get some amazing beef stroganoff to completely fill myself. Now, laden with food, I head back to my room, set the summer forest again, and climb into bed.

I read all day, which I know is probably a day wasted, but I had fun. Besides, I found out that the lighting in an altered room even changes over time to reflect the time of day. It’s directly above me at noon, and when I look up again at 7, the sun’s a lot lower in the sky and the light’s more evening-y. I know that’s not really a word, but it’s the only way I can describe what the light’s like a few hours before it sets.

I finish The Philosopher’s Stone around 10 and quickly discover that I am wiped. I flip the book off, toss it a bit more carelessly onto the floor than I should, and pull the covers over me. Tomorrow we start training, and it will be a whole new world after that. Literally.

Author's Note

My goodness! I never expected so much of an influx of traffic to this story! Thank you all so much for reading, liking, favoriting, commenting, and following! Unfortunately, don't get your hopes up for chapters as close as 1 and 2 were - I still have another story to finish up, and as taxing as it is, I am still required to have a life. I found out I am not able to constantly write about ponies all day and night for eternity. =/

But, for being such great fans, if you'll all look under your seats, you all get...

A prize!