The Conversion Bureau - Mirror Match

A story loosely set in Blaze’s Conversion Bureau universe, By Silvertie

Chapter 11 - Loaded Dice

"Dad!" I flung my arms out in a very belated gesture of protest, as Dice slumped to the ground, out cold. Nobody else moved.

"What is it, Duke?"

"You hit him!"

"He tricked us!" Snow spat. "I can't believe we fell for it! Hell, I'm ashamed that I know my son so poorly, that someone could impersonate my own son!"

"I thought he was your son, though," Thorn remarked, looking to me. "He's your brother, isn't he?"

"Well, I -"

"You said he was a room-mate," picked Shield, "Which is it?"

"I-it... uh, it's not that simple..." I searched for a way to break the news.

"Oh my god," Glitter breathed. "Don't tell me I've got a gay brother!"

"And what's wrong with bein' gay?" Cake interrupted hotly.

Everyone looked at the pegasus, surprised. Even Shield, to my delight.

"You... like stallions?" Shield asked. "I never had you pegged for... well. Pegging."

"O-of course!" Cake wrung his hooves. "That cowpony in Appleoosa - you know the one, Shield - made me feel a way I've never felt about mares, and it just... happened." Cake coughed, and shook his head. "Enough about me, though, aren't we grilling the human?"

“Yes, we are,” Shield turned back to me, and I saw Cake sag ever so slightly with relief. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

I frowned. “I need to explain nothing. You’re to blame for all of this, Shield!”

“Me?!” Shield put a hoof on his chest, stunned. “How do I have anything to do with this deception of yours?”

I opened my mouth to tell him just what I thought, as I poked him in the chest, when a steady thopping filled the air, and my train of thought jumped rails.

“Is that a helicopter?”

Snow’s face relaxed only slightly, from confusion to concern. “Sounds like three helicopters.”

Right on cue, a trio of choppers flew over the warehouses, dust blowing everywhere from the rotors as they started hovering over the courtyard. All around, doors crashed open and armoured ponies and humans ran out, brandishing weapons lethal and otherwise.

“This is the police! Everyone, hands and hooves in the air, get down on the ground!”

“Oh, look,” I remarked, “It’s the cavalry, a bit late.”

All around the courtyard, ponies got down and took cover; the less-intelligent Mk 1’s shambling about took no such action, setting them apart from the equines fleeing them, and making them targets for the lethally-armed human police officers.

I got down on my knees as the pop of suppressed and regular gunfire filled the air, followed by crunching of steel and plastic.

"Late," Shield nodded from his own position on the ground, "Yes. But worth the wait. Who called them?"

“My son," Snow Flake spat, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice. "The colt has the phone, I think."

"You there!" A voice rang out; a pony wearing bureau-security armour had a hoof pointed at me. "Freeze!"

I realized how it looked - one human, and a bunch of ponies around him, in a pony kidnapping case. You couldn't deny that I looked suspicious as hell. At least he wasn't shooting m-

"Officer Beepsky! Arrest!" A voice shouted behind me.

"Beepsky?" I raised an eyebrow and turned my head to see what poor person or machine earned the name 'Beepsky'... just in time to see a hulking, polished-white-shelled robot with two large chainguns for hands. How do I know they were chainguns? I was looking down the barrels.

Fortunately, for myself and the writing of this story, those big honking guns didn't turn me to swiss cheese. Instead, a smaller attachment detonated, and threw two small pins at me, fibre-thin cable playing out behind. They punched through my jacket and shirt, and I felt two pricks on my chest, like I'd stabbed myself with a safety pin twice.

There was a moment of clarity, where I knew my place in the world, and what was to come. A moment of truth and knowledge, where I comprehended the pins, cables, and their use in 'arresting' someone.

Tazer.

"Oh, fuck m-eeeheheheeeeeeeeeeeeee-" I managed to say, before getting tazed rendered me incapable of speech.

"Duke!" my family exclaimed as one, as I succumbed to ungodly voltages and fell over twitching.

Shield sniggered, and I wanted to thump him so very hard. But staying awake hurt just a little more, and darkness overtook me,

======

I woke up lying on a stretcher, a sky of dull green over me - a tent of some sort. I tried to get up, and heard a rattle as something restrained my hoof.

I frowned as I looked at the offending object - a set of handcuffs binding my hooves to the stretcher itself. I gave them a more vigorous tug, to no avail.

I looked at the tent itself; it was set up on the same concrete of the courtyard, so we hadn't gone far from where I'd been knocked out. By my father, punching me.

"I can't believe Dad did that," I muttered, recalling how hard he'd hit me.

"Tell me about it."

I looked to my right, and in a stretcher next to me, Duke lay. He gave me a small wave with a similarily-restrained limb, and I snorted, trying to contain my laughter.

"Yeah, yeah," Duke grunted. "Yuk it up."

My human counterpart's short hair stuck up at all angles, an impromptu and ill-advised afro. It was comical, and meant one thing.

"I take it the talk with dad went poorly?' I guessed. "He thought both of us were impostors? Hit you with a thundercloud?"

"Actually," Duke shook his head, "I didn't get a chance to talk to Dad about it. The cops and SWAT arrived, and Beepsky arrested me before I could spill the beans."

"Oh." I nodded. "We owe Unibro for that, he pulled all the strings."

He nodded. "I heard. He must have some serious pull. I don't think he's just a receptionist like he says he is."

"So," I said, "You didn't clear up the whole two-of-us thing, did you?"

Duke coughed awkwardly. "Yeah. Getting tazed tends to put a kibosh on conducting a heartfelt conversation with your parental figures."

"So, now that we're both awake, I guess we can expect an interrogation in three... two... one..."

We looked to the tent flap at the same time, and nothing happened. We both drooped in disappointment.

"I really thought he'd barge in about now," Duke muttered. "I guess luck just isn't with us today."

"Speak for yourself," I retorted. "I took down that giant robot! On my own!"

"I saw," Duke said. "It's just like one of my Japanese videogames - next thing you know, one of us is going to have a stupid hairstyle, wear an excess of belts and buckles on their clothes, and then swing a giant weapon around as they invoke the power of being the chosen one or something."

"We're halfway there," I cautioned. "Your hair counts."

"Oh, shit," Duke muttered, feeling it. "Keep me away from blades of destiny and belt-laden outfits, for the love of god. I'm not boyishly handsome enough to be bishounen, it would be a crime against humanity."

"It would be funny, though."

"For you, maybe!" Duke exclaimed, looking at me. "You're not the silly fop who has to wear it! You're lucky there hasn't been a pony hero for a Japanese videogame yet!"

I felt my face with my hooves. "I think I'd look pretty damn good as a bishounen pony, to be honest."

"Keep dreaming, brickface."

With a rustle of fabric, and swish of wind, the tent flap flew open, and my- our father, Snow Flake, stormed in; following behind, looking uncertain was our mother and our sister, along with two human police officers cradling rifles - presumably for a 'just in case' scenario.

"Hi, Dad," I waved a hoof. "Feel better after hitting me?"

"Yes!" Snow snorted, and shook his head. "No! I don't know! I've got two people telling me they're both my son, when I know I've only had one! Both of them are collaborating! I don't understand!"

"Duke, tell him," I sighed. "Since you were slow to do it earlier."

Duke grumbled at being handed the buck, and cleared his throat. "Okay, this is all true, alright? We are both your son, we are the same person."

"That's clearly wrong," one of the police officers volunteered, before realizing he shouldn't be speaking and shutting himself up. Snow nodded.

"The man's got a point," he said, nodding to Duke. "You're human. He's a unicorn. If my son was going to be a pony, wouldn't he be a pegasus like the rest of his family? Right now, I'm thinking neither of you are really my son, and this is all some sort of convoluted plot."

"Think again, Dad," I said. "More specifically, think about your old job."

"My old job? CPU design, Synthetic Design R&D Lab 283," Snow rattled off reflexively. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You guys ponified right off the bat," Duke picked up. "Left everything you had to us, which was fine."

I pointed a hoof at Snow. "You left us your work's health plan life insurance contract."

"I did?" Snow turned a sickly pale, managing to go whiter than white. "You... died?"

"That's where that Shield guy comes in," Duke said. "He's with the PER, he shot us with a potion dart."

"A dart that had an experimental serum in it," I recapped. "Unibro can testify on that one, we asked him to look it up."

"Killed us on the operating table, so to speak," Duke concluded. "Serum still worked, but technically, we went dead and never woke up as a human, so..."

"Re-life." Snow bit his lip. "I get it, now, Duke. You're saying you're a re-life clone."

"It probably explains why I'm a unicorn, too," I tapped my horn. "I mean, a serum that kills most people hit with it..."

"What do you guys think?" Duke appealed to Glitter and Gold. "You've heard our story."

"I..." Gold shook her head. "This is unbelievable. I'd say impossible, but... I went from a career as a human biologist in Synthetic Design's City 01, to a pegasus printer in a city made of clouds. Anything can happen, I guess..."

"I believe you," Glitter voted. "I'm getting a strange vibe off you guys, and it's hard to tell you apart without focussing on physical differences."

"Wait, really?" I asked.

"Hmm," Glitter nodded thoughtfully. "It's like... listening to you, in stereo. You sound different, and you look different, but at your core, you both seem like the same person, you know?"

"Sound different, huh?" I smiled. "Do I sound a little horse?"

"Ha!" Duke laughed just once. "That was awful."

"It was," Gold nodded, chuckling. "But that's Duke, alright."

"Well," Snow snorted, looking at his wife and daughter. "If you guys buy it... then it doesn't matter. Whether we're right or not doesn't matter, I just want my family to be happy."

"That's great!" Duke said, brightly. "Now that we got the big pink elephant out of the way, can someone uncuff us? These handcuffs are in the way of me being happy."

======

The police officer walked through the darkened assembly building, his handgun held low and ready to shoot.

"Stay sharp, Beepsky," he said quietly, over his radio. "Gotta be in here somewhere."

[Affirmative,] Beepsky replied; the hulking policebot was moving with unexpected stealth and agility for something so big and heavily armed.

The police officer rubbed his fingers together in thought; a trail of leaking lubricant had gone from the warehouse where the ringleader, Lexicon, had supposedly been shot, all the way to here. And they'd already checked around the building for other exits, of which there were none.

The officer could smell an arrest. Perhaps he could make detective before going pony; it'd look good on his CV, that was for sure.

He brushed against a dangling chain as he came to a large packing area, flanked by Beepsky. The rattle of chains echoed through the air, and he saw something on the ground.

"Beepsky, gimme a light on that lump," he said, pointing. Beepsky responded by shining a flashlight on the shape.

A chromed mannequin lay on the ground on it's side, in a small puddle of lubricant, a once-fine suit ruined by the chemical compound. The officer walked forward and prodded it with the toe of his boot.

"Nothin'. Might be dead. But I never heard of a robot going down like this. Beepsky, roll him over?"

The policebot complied, making use of a heavy-set foot to do the job; the shirt was undone, and suit hanging open. A hollow cavity layexposed in Lexicon's torso, the chestplate resting on the ground nearby.

"A cyborg," the officer nodded. "Makes a little more sense... but not much." The officer looked closer at the torso, Beepsky's spotlight illuminating the myriad systems that had become substitutes for standard human biology. "This guy's gone full 'borg - he's basically a free-thinking robot right now... Where's his brain?"

The thrum of a generator powering up filled the air, and the officer turned around in the rapidly illuminating warehouse to see two glowing, red eyes.

“What the f-”

======

"Right," the police sergeant said, clapping his hands together. "Now that we've established who's good and who isn't, I'll give you guys an update."

I was sitting with Dice and the rest of my family in the back of a police van, drinking hot soup and listening to the debriefing that the policeman in charge was giving.

"We caught all those freaky brainbots," the Sergeant declared. "All of them are showing braindead, and it's the mechanical systems pulling all the strings, so we're pulling the plug on them. Also found logs of who got turned into those things; we're gonna be spending a few weeks pairing up brains with names, unfortunately. Thankfully, the person in charge left detailed records."

"You mean Lexicon," I pointed out. "He's in charge. He even said so himself."

"It would appear so," the Sergeant nodded. "However, we haven't found him yet, and there could easily be someone higher up than him pulling the strings, so we can't jump to conclusions."

"What can you charge him with?" Snow asked. "He's got to pay for what he's done."

"That's the problem," the Sergeant said sadly. "This all hinges on evidence. If we can find enough on him to decisively link him to this whole debacle, then he's going away for a very long time, his Equestrian citizenship'll be of no use to him in this case. Equestria's cut this guy loose. But if he's got nothing on him, then we've got no case and he'll walk. It'll be a dirty walk, but I get the feeling that won't stop him doing this all again, only smarter."

"What about Jeeves?" Dice asked, pointing towards the titanic-sized wreck. "Isn't that proof enough?"

"Jeeves is an AI," the Sergeant said, shaking his head. "Even if we managed to find traces of that AI's influence on that robot body, Lexicon could easily claim his AI was subverted and as much as a jury or judge might like to dismiss that claim, there's no way to say it wasn't. He'll walk even cleaner."

"Oh, for the love of god," I snorted, sitting back, and taking a long drink of my soup. "I officially hate this guy, now. First he sells us soaps, then he hits Dice with a car, then he kidnaps and attempts to 'borg my entire family."

"He hit you with a car?" The Sergeant asked Dice, quickly.

"Yeah," Dice nodded. "Seemed like an accident at the time, although now, I'm not too sure."

"Hmm... Yes!" The Sergeant snapped his fingers. "We got him. If you'll testify in court, Dice, we can nail him on  trumped-up hit-and-run charge."

"You're telling us it'll be trumped-up?" Gold asked. "Isn't that a bit dishonest and unethical?"

"Probably," the Sergeant said. "But what matters is that justice is dealt. We can arrest him on charges of that hit-and-run, then I'll make a few calls and have some evidence planted."

"He'll claim that he got framed!" I exclaimed. "This'd be worse than just pressing charges as-is!"

"Hey - we still got the testimony of at least twenty other ponies that they saw Lexicon order the start of the attack, and tell Dice here his plans," the Sergeant said. "We're not fabricating a charge, we're just nailing it down. Justice might be blind, but we're not."

"Good enough for me," Snow nodded. "Have you found Lexicon yet?"

"Officers have been reporting in for the last five minutes," the Sergeant said. "Nothing yet. Just waiting on Ricketts and Beepsky."

"Fucking Beepsky," I muttered, rubbing my chest. I'd since managed to get my hair back to normal, but I'd always feel that one.

"He's just doin' his job," the Sergeant defended. "It's not personal."

"I know."

"I pity Lexicon if Beepsky finds him first, though," the Sergeant chuckled. "Beepsky's hostility circuit's rated a little higher than most SK-7's, and Lexicon is officially a 'borg, and so warrants a more... aggressive arrest policy."

The way the Sergeant said 'aggressive', I wondered if he was really suited to the job of police officer - he seemed far too inclined to brutality and falsified evidence to be a truly upstanding officer.

"Throw in the fact that Beepsky's a two-ton, law-enforcing machine,” the Sergeant continued, “and I think we can safely say that if he spots Lexicon, Lexicon's getting arrested."

The sounds of a titanic, mechanical roar split the air, and the rapid rattle of chaingun fire filled that split as quickly as it started. We looked around, and spotted a warehouse

"That's Beepsky's chainguns at work now," the Sergeant said, proudly. "Any minute now..."

The heavy impact of steel on steel echoed out of the warehouse, and with a tearing of sheet metal, a large, white body flew through the door at speeds that would rival a speeding car. With a clang, it hit the supports of a crane, bounced to the ground, and went still, sparking and fizzing. The barrels of it's chaingun-hands were still spinning and smoking.

A police officer stumbled out of the warehouse, and ran towards us, shouting in alarm.

"Lexicon! We found Lexicon!"  Ricketts screamed. "He's fucking- Beepsky! Like a ragdoll!"

"Slow down, Ricketts," the Sergeant said, ignoring the sounds of continuing mechanical mayhem from the warehouse and grabbing the panicking officer. "Where is Lexicon?"

"He's in the warehouse! He's a fucking d- dra-"

The roof of the warehouse exploded in a gout of flame and smoke, and the warehouse shook as a massive metal claw planted itself firmly on the edges. With a whine of pistons and motors, something emerged. Metal wings the size of houses unfurled. A neck craned out, extending the length of the creature to at least fifty feet, not counting anything that might still be in the warehouse itself. A head that was long, angular, and very, very dangerous looking.

And naturally, it was chrome. Always with the chrome.

"It's a dragon," I breathed. "A fucking robot dragon. A fucking cybernetic, villainous, robotic dragon!"

"They don't pay me enough," the Sergeant muttered.