The Conversion Bureau - Mirror Match

A story set in the Conversion Bureau universe, by Silvertie

Epilogue - Loose Ends

Dreams of falling, of glass, of guns, explosions and ponies.

I woke up from one nightmare, and into another, one of white tiles, sterile lights, and a chilly sensation in my left hand, which I raised to look at. A shunt - those things always creeped the hell out of me, and I did my best to remain still and not disturb it. Not hard when even the act of breathing was giving me hell, to say nothing of raising my arm.

“I’m clearly not dead,” I rasped, feeling my mouth with my tongue; quite a few missing teeth, it felt weird. “This is a hospital.”

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” a male voice said. I looked to my left, and saw a doctor standing there with a depleted syringe and a clipboard. “Please don’t move.”

“Did... you wake me up?” I asked, looking blearily at the shunt.

“Actually, no,” the doctor said. “That was a shot of antibiotics. I’ll fetch your friends and family, they’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Do you need anything?”

I shook my head slightly. “I’m good.”

“If he needs anything,” a familiar voice said from the other side of the bed, out of my view, “I’ll get it for him.”

“No you won’t,” the doctor  said, flatly. “You’ll push the call button and get a nurse, you’re in no condition to do anything either, Mr. Roller.”

“Dice?” I grunted, trying to turn my head to look at my unicorn counterpart. I had to turn my head more than expected, my field of view vastly reduced by something over my eye.

“Hey Duke,” wheezed the unicorn. I finally got a good look at him. If I felt like shit, he looked like it. His eyes were little more than sunken cavities, bloodshot and crusted. His mane and coat were matted with dried sweat, and he was puffing like he’d run a marathon.

“You’ve got one hell of a brother,” the doctor remarked. “Dice here wouldn’t leave your side, insisting on using his magic to aid you from the moment the EMTs picked you up, through all your surgeries and even now.”

“Whoa, wait,” I closed my eyes. “Surgeries?”

“I’ll let Dice answer that,” the doctor said, the sound of his footsteps retreating to the door. “I’ll get your friends and family.”

The door clicked shut, and I looked at the unicorn next to me and my bed, sitting in a chair, smiling.

“That was really touch-and-go, there,” he said. “Nobody thought you’d make it.”

“What?” I pressed harder. “What happened to me?”

“Well, you fell to your death,” Dice shrugged. “Somehow, you managed to punch through a layer of reinforced glass, reducing your arm to a bloody bag of bone shards and destroying your eye, before almost crushing a little filly and her parent mid-swimming-therapy-session as you hit the water, breaking what the doctors said was like sixty percent of your bones. At which point, you floated face-down in the water, bled out for a bit and drowned. We finally landed, rushed in, and that’s when I started doing my magic.” Dice chuckled. “Scared the EMTs shitless when you were still clinging to life by the time they got there.” Dice took a breath. “The EMTs and other emergency wing staff had a pool running for what you’d actually succumb to first; popular bets were internal haemorrhaging, followed by brain damage caused by the trauma and drowning. None of them picked you to live more more than half a day, tops, even on the life support machines.”

“Well, proved them wrong, didn’t I?” I coughed, wincing violently as I blinked an eye that was bound by bandages, and tried to cover my mouth with an arm that was rigid thanks to a cast, and felt like a sack of nerve-laden mince. “How long’s it been?”

“About a week,” Dice said. “I kinda lost track, I haven’t slept. The doctors are all amazed with how you managed to cheat the odds and not die to all the things that you should have died to. Apparently you should be in life support right now.”

“Cheating the odds, huh?” I smiled weakly. “I guess I know who’s responsible for that.”

“Guilty,” he smiled. “Like I said, haven’t slept. Not a happy pony right now, but on the other hand, we’re gonna be rich.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know the betting pool?” Dice asked, and I blinked by way of nodding. “Yeah, well it got quite big. Mum and dad weren’t impressed when they found out, and asked for it to be taken down, but it persisted. I agreed to stay quiet about it if I got to make a bet.”

“You bet on me dying?” I frowned. “That’s shitty.”

“No,” Dice smiled. “I bet on you surviving, walking out of here in a month. Or being wheeled out in a wheelchair. Certainly not dying or dead. Guess who just cleaned up?”

“You clever bastard,” I smiled, and looked around. Everything in the room was white, apart from a slightly-wilted vase of flowers next to my table. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Vase of flowers,” Dice said, using his magic to float them over my bed so I could see. “Arrived a couple of days ago, came with a card. Felt I should refrain from opening the card until you woke up, it’s been killing me.”

“Go ahead,” I smiled. “Who’s it from?”

Dice was silent for a moment, and he laughed out loud. “Ha! It’s from Unibro and the guys! Here, I’ll read it.” Dice cleared his throat. “Dear Duke, if you ever get to read this, you are officially one robust motherfucker. I saw your chart online, and Hatless is pretty damn sure we’re sending flowers to a funeral. If you’re ever in Bay City and, you know, not dead, swing by the bureau; I wanna shake your hand. Much love, #potionhunters.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” I said. “I’ll take him up on it if I ever walk again.”

The door clicked, and opened, allowing a small herd of ponies to walk in, the doctor one of the few humans amidst their number.

“Duke!” Gold Leaf said, galloping over to the bed. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Tender,” I replied, looking around at my visitors. My parents and sister were here, as was M and Thorn. Amazingly, Cake and Shield were also present, genuine relief at seeing me etched all over their faces.

“I’m just glad you’re in one piece,” Snow said, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. “That’s my boy.”

“All those years of bad luck,” M chuckled. “You’ve had it coming. A day in the sun. Natural twenties, all the way.”

“I guess those theories about karma are correct,” an unfamiliar voice said, “It does all balance out eventually.” I looked at the ponies, and spotted one face standing next to M that I didn’t recognize; a dark orange pegasus with a green mane.

“Uh, who are you?” I asked, before looking at M. “Don’t tell me you’re dating him.”

“What?” the pegasus flapped his wings agitatedly. “No! Duke! It’s me! G-A-R-Y.”

“Gary?!” I exclaimed.

“Shh!” The pegasus looked around, anxious. “Not so loud! I’m in witness protection now! Call me Orange Zest!”

I snickered. “Goes with your mane and coat.”

“‘s why I picked it,” “Zest” said darkly, implying that I hadn’t been the first to point it out.

“Why the identity change?” I asked.

“My dad,” Zest sighed. “I wasn’t kidding when I said he was HLF. Word is that he found out about how I helped you a couple of days back, flipped his shit. Luckily, by then, I’d already gone pony. With luck, he’ll never find me and tell me what he thinks of me.” Zest sighed. “Gary Soak is dead, died falling to his death off a dragon. Zest lives.”

“Got it... Zest,” I said, looking at the ponies. “What happened? I know I fell, got messed up and stuff. Anything else I should know about? What happened to Lexicon?”

“Lexicon is no longer a threat,” a mare’s voice stated. The crowd parted, to reveal a lavender unicorn carrying a clipboard, purple mane with a hot pink streak through it.

“Ambassador Sparkle!” gasped the doctor, before hastily bobbing a quick bow of respect. “I assume this is private business, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“It is,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

The doctor stepped out of the room, past Twilight, and shut the door behind him. The other ponies and M looked at her, and Glitter Flake asked what they were all thinking.

“Do we have to go as well?”

“No,” Twilight shook her head. “You’ve all been involved, it’s only fair that you hear this from me,” she said. Twilight looked at me. “So. You’re Duke Cooper. And you’re still human, which is odd. Didn’t you get the potion I sent you a few days before your accident? Did Rainbow Dash deliver it okay? Did it not work? It was from the vault, I was sure it would work, but...”

“Potion?” I frowned, then rememebered. “Oh! That! Yes! I got it!”

“You got potion from Twilight Sparkle?” Dice asked, stunned. “Where? When?”

“By mail,” I said. “Rainbow Dash dropped it off. A single autoinjector of potion.”

“Where is it?” Dice asked. “Wait, vault! That means it was an experimental formula! You have an experimental formula!?”

“Had,” I said. “It was in the back pocket of my pants.”

“Your- oh,” Duke nodded slowly in understanding. “So that’s how the thin glass shards got in your ass.”

“You lost it, huh?” Twilight asked, and I nodded slowly, ashamed. She sighed.

“Well, that was the last of it’s kind,” she said. “Apart from the last dose, which nopony’s allowed to touch. If you want to get ponified, you’ll have to do it the normal way.”

I nodded in shame. “Yes, Twilight.”

Twilight shook her head, and smiled. “Anyway. I owe you a debt of gratitude, in a sense.”

“A debt?” I asked. “For what?”

“For putting Lexicon to rest,” she sighed. “Lexicon used to be one of the developers of the serum, alongside myself; volunteered to be one of the first test subjects, even. It didn’t take quite so well, and it gave him a broken body.” Twilight clicked her tongue. “Broke his mind, too, it seems. Or perhaps that was later. As evil as he might have become, once upon a time, he was a good soul, and we were friends. Friendship never truly dies, after all.”

“I’m guessing we broke him pretty good, then,” I said.

“Yes,” Twilight nodded. “I never would have thought it, but you did manage to destroy pretty much all of him and his infernal machine with that explosion. How you four survived is beyond me, and how you did it with one missile is also amazing; I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s simply because humans are truly astounding creatures, always full of surprises. It’s a shame you can’t survive in Equestria.”

“It’s not the form,” M pointed out, looking at Shield, who looked back, smiling. “It’s the soul inside it that makes the person.”

“True.” Twilight nodded. “I’ve always liked how humans are so persistent and creative. Anyway. Lexicon’s body was destroyed, and we’ve found no trace of his brain, so we’re assuming he was vaporized. With the destruction of his brain, Lexicon’s truly dead; unlike yourself, no amount of luck would get him out of it.”

“Unless he was running that body through a proxy,” I guessed, but Twilight shook her head.

“There was magic involved, that machine was relying pretty heavily on it. He had to be there, you can’t transmit magic through a proxy.”

“Well,” I sighed, wincing as a rib shifted. “What now?”

“Now?” Twilight grimaced. “You lie there and recover, while I arrest Illuminating Shield and Chocolate Cake.”

“What?!” everyone said, simultaneously.

“Illuminating Shield and Chocolate Cake are wanted by the Crown of Equestria and six different human governments for their involvement in the Ponification for the Earth’s Rebirth terrorist organization,” Twilight said, reciting the charges from memory. “I know they helped in bringing Lexicon to justice, and so I’ve given them a few day’s grace to “escape” my attention, but...”

“They stuck around for me, to be here for me when I woke up,” I protested. “Right?”

“Uh, actually,” Shield said, “I’m only hanging around because Magdalene w- oof!” A chocolate-brown elbow jabbed Shield in the ribs, and he backtracked. “I mean, yeah, that’s right.”

“See?” I gestured. “That’s true friendship.”

Twilight frowned. “As much as I’d like friendship to be an excuse to pardon the crimes they’ve committed, I can’t take it. They’ll get a softer sentence, given the circumstances, but...”

The door to the room crashed open, kicked by a sturdy hoof. On the other side, a teal unicorn stood with a gasmask strapped to her face; a steel-grey mane poked out from under it, and a bandaged leg was held off the ground slightly as a tubular weapon was brandished. A pair of eyes glittered behind the gasmask’s lenses, and I held my breath.

Without a word, the mare fired the weapon at Twilight, who screamed and crushed the projectile with her magic as she stopped it; as she did, the gas and smoke in the grenade rushed out, blinding her and those next to her.

The room was rapidly filled with smoke, and panic reigned. In the midst of all the mayhem, I heard three words: “One day, Magdalene.”

The sound of running hooves filled the air, and the smoke began to clear; screaming outside in the hallways heralded their escape, and the room cleared to show we were two pegasi short. Twilight looked around, and sighed, smiling.

“Oh no,” she said, unconvincingly. “They’ve escaped my clutches, what a bother. I suppose I had better go catch them.” Twilight walked over to the door slowly, and looked back at me. “I hope you get better soon, Duke Cooper. Thank you, once again, for putting Lexicon to rest. From me, Null Point, and Carpenter.”

“My pleasure?” I hazarded. It seemed to fly, and Twilight nodded, before setting off in (very slow) pursuit of the two PER ponies. I briefly wondered where they’d run to from here, and if I’d see them again. Judging from the look in M’s eyes... if I hung around her, I probably would.

Everyone relaxed, a little coughing still going on, and I sagged a little in my bed, listening to the soft beep of my heartbeat monitor.

“So,” I said brightly, breaking the silence. “Did I tell you guys about that time I killed a cyberdragon?”

======

Six days ago

Plumes of smoke still filled the air, high in the sky, marking the path of hundreds of pieces of debris from the broken machine dragon.

One plume was longer than the rest, because it wasn’t a piece of rubble.

It was an escape pod. Barely bigger than a backpack, it had it’s own rocket thrusters, and sitting in the top like a warhead, a dome of fluid, containing a small, wrinkled thing covered in wires. Lexicon.

The escape pod screamed down towards suburbia, and with a wham, hit the dirt in a once-pristine-now-abandoned home’s front yard, not far from a tree. Smoking and pinging away as it cooled, it stayed there for a time, as the dome went from the opaque it had gone when the internal gel absorbed the impact, to the translucent it would go when it finally decided it was safe to move. When it did, the pod hissed like something out of a sci-fi alien invasion movie, and the pod separated.

To one side, the rocket engine fell. To the other, the jar rolled, righting itself with spindly little legs. A vocalizer clicked, and the brain sighed.

“Fuck.”

[That is not appropriate language,] a voice chided. The brain’s dome turned to see a humanoid shape standing under a tree. Two red lights glared at the brain from under a wide-brimmed hat, the wearer concealed by a long, brown duster and clutching a small holoprojector in his gloved hand. But he was not the speaker, no. Lexicon knew his type, they didn’t speak.

The holographic eyeball being emitted by the holoprojector, on the other hand... it stared back at the jar-brain, flickering as the feed was disrupted ever so slightly by static.

“I think it’s appropriate,” Lexicon sighed. “The Ascension Project is in ruins, it’ll take years to recover. If ever. My cover’s blown. Infrastructure’s flattened.”

[We know,] the eyeball said. [What data did you save?]

“Everything,” Lexicon said. “It’s all backed up on one of the drop servers, number six-one-six.”

[Good,] the eyeball said. Lexicon went on.

“It’s not the data that’s the problem, or even the subjects or resources. It’s just a matter of building up the infrastructure once more...”

[The syndicate is not interested in your excuses, Lexicon,] the eyeball said. [It is only interested in whether you are useful any more.]

“No...!” Lexicon’s brain pod started moving as swiftly as it could, running for the gate. With two lopes, the messenger picked up the brain jar with a free hand, holding it up to the eyeball.

[The syndicate has decreed that you are no longer useful,] the eyeball said. [As such, you are hereby ordered to self-terminate.]

“You bastard!” Lexicon’s vocalizer spat. “Fuck you, fuck the horse you rode in on! I am not going to self-terminate! The syndicate wants me dead, the least they can do is have the decency to do it themselves!”

[I will remind you that your cortical processor is still bound by The Laws,] the eyeball said. [This is a direct order from the syndicate. This order overrides the third law of self-preservation. By disobeying this order, you are opposing the syndicate. Do make myself clear?]

“Hnngh,” Lexicon grunted, his brain shuddering in it’s jar. The vocalizer suddenly began to emit a horrible, ear-rattling screech, and the brain jerked violently; the slightly green nutriment gel it lived in suddenly began to fill with clouds of red that flowed out of the now inert brain. The vocalizer clicked, and went silent, and the lights at the base of the jar flickered out.

The messenger dropped the jar, and reached into a pocket, pulling out a small, square charge with a console. A button was pressed, and the parcel began to beep softly. The courier didn’t move, watching the jar, as the explosion blossomed. What was left of the tree groaned and collapsed over the crater where once a brain in a jar and a robot had once stood.

High above, a satellite watched the tree burn and crumble, and an eyeball nodded to itself in satisfaction.

All the loose ends were tied up. Lexicon was a valuable asset, and his data was revolutionary, but the Syndicate’s goals came first, and Lexicon’s time was up.

The eyeball looked at a monitor, seeing the data that Lexicon had saved; true to his word, it was every last bit of the data they’d wanted.

Everything was running according to schedule. Equestria would fall, and man would take his place as the dominant power of both worlds.

Mark his words.