Rainbow Dash shifted her saddlebags. They were not heavy, but they were awkward and fit poorly around her wings. She was still able to fly if she wanted to- -and, of course, she could always ditch the extra weight- -but she had no need to. As such, she instead walked along the dirty pavement of the Lower Level streets.

Five had said to avoid the Lower Levels. Ironically, though, that was now the only place they were safe. Nopony looked in the Lower Levels- -and with the look of them, Rainbow Dash doubted that anypony ever could.

The streets were busy, even crowded, but not like the ones above. In the upper levels, ponies always seemed to be going places, trudging or rushing to and from unknown places that were surely important in their individual lives. In the Lower Levels, however, that did not seem to be the case. There was instead an air of a bustling market- -but one that was somehow oddly ominous and threatening. Numerous street venders were pushing dirty carts filled with various items ranging from strange meat on sticks to machine parts to spices- -and some ponies, in the darker alleys, were selling things from their coats without a cart.

Lining each side of the street were run-down shops of all kinds. Many had bars on the windows, and almost all of them had gaudy neon signs that provided the mostly red hue that lit the street. Ponies meandered between the stores beside owls, donkeys, rams, and even an occasional diamond dog- -and one extremely large, derp-eyed bouncer whose large top hat Rainbow Dash was pretty sure disguised a pair of horns.

Most of the ponies filling the street were dirty, and many were drunk. In this particular region, there were also a large number of mares waiting outside some of the red-lit buildings, and many of them walking very close to the stallions accompanying them. They were almost invariably heavily made-up, and dressed highly suggestively, with stockings and saddles or sheer dresses that would have made even Rarity blush.

A group of them spied Rainbow Dash and waved, becoming her toward their club. Rainbow Dash immediately looked away, feeling her face and ears growing hot. She reassured herself that she was not a lespony- -even though, a tiny voice in her head told her, the only pony she had ever gone to bed with was a mare- -but those ponies were attractive. The thought of what their career was, though, made Rainbow Dash’s heard beat quickly, pounding in her chest like she had just finished a race. Worse, though, was the thought that such a career had existed in her own time, that it was not a factor of this sunless and dirty segment of this world. She wondered if any ponies in Ponyville had done that.

For a moment, she paused. Her anxiety was growing. The light and sound and smell of strange food and chemicals was causing her to start to panic, and she looked instinctively toward the sky. She was fortunate- -this particular section had a sky, or something marginally similar to one. Above them was a black sky where the buildings seemed to rise for eternity, narrowing as they got closer, their windows linked by clotheslines and illegal power cables. Slow-moving garbage transports were seen directly above, dripping fluid on unfortunate ponies below, and higher up fast-moving airships whizzed by.

A pony bumped into Rainbow Dash.

“Hey!” she cried. “Watch…” She trailed off when she found herself looking into the face of a heavyset cyborg, his lower jaw completely replaced with a number of tubes shoved down his throat. He gurgled angrily and made a rude gesture with his forelegs before pushing past Rainbow Dash toward a taco stand- -or at least something labeled as “ ‘taco’ stand”.

As Rainbow Dash contemplated purchasing one of these so-called tacos, she suddenly felt a shove from her side. She turned just in time to see a young stallion reaching into her saddlebags, taking a plastic-wrapped bag of green-colored wafers that she had just purchased.

“Hey!” she cried, turning and spreading her wings, ready to give chase as he ran away, smiling.

As he looked back, a shadow in front of him moved. It materialized into something hairy, and Brown raised his hoof, clotheslining the much larger stallion in the throat. The stallion buckled, collapsing into the street, his body folding as he reached for his neck and gasped for air. Brown bent down and picked up the bag of wafers, being careful not to unload the items perched on his back.

“Here,” he said, passing the bag back to Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow Dash snatched it away from him with her robotic arm, glaring at him. “Where did you come from?”

Brown looked at her, his blue eyes wide. “I believe you were there for that part.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Brown fell into step with Rainbow Dash. He was several inches shorter than she was, but with all his hair appeared substantially wider. Since his “birth”, his mane and tail had started to darken and his fluff to flatten slightly, making him look slightly more like a pony and less like a brown cotton ball.

Rainbow Dash looked at the objects he was carrying on his back. One was a fifty pound bag of something called bentonite, which he seemed to have no trouble moving at all; the other was a large plastic tray.

“Why do you have a box?” said Rainbow Dash, trying to ignore the injured pony they were leaving behind.

“Because the toilet accommodations of you primitives are barbaric and unsavory,” he said, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“Wait…you’re going to go…in the box? Like a cat?”

Brown sighed. “Yes. Like a cat. Is that so wrong?”

“Um…it’s a little weird.” Then Rainbow Dash realized that she was talking to a clone of an extinct race of pony that was less than ten hours old and had already murdered at least one pony. He might as well use a litter box; the strangeness it added to the situation was barely marginal.

They continued in silence for a while. Although Brown was surprisingly articulate for his age, he was not especially talkative. Having him near her, though, made Rainbow Dash irrationally angry. She did not like him especially much, and loathed having somepony around to “protect” her.

Then they passed a group of stallions, and they started jeering.

“Ooooohh!” one of them cried, looking up from what he was doing and pointing. “Browny’s gonna bet some!”

“Hairy Larry gettin Dashie Tushie!”

“Hey furry! Yeah, you! Give that sexy rainbow mane a good tug for me when you’re on her back!”

“How much she cost yah, brownie?”

They continued to call and whistle after them, and Rainbow Dash had to resist an extremely strong urge to chase each and every one of them down and pound them into an apology. Since having been sent to the shady, semi-underground wafer grocer five blocks away from Pretty Lady’s, she had been propositioned at least three times and whistled at repeatedly. Her rump had even been grabbed at one point, and she would have punched the guy into the next level if he had not been an owl in thick glasses.

Brown, however, seemed completely nonplussed. His expression did not change, nor did he seem to be stressed in any way by their comments.

“Are you deaf?” demanded Rainbow Dash.

“No. My hearing is actually somewhat better than yours.”

“And it doesn’t even bother you? Not even a little?”

“No.”

Rainbow Dash took a step back from him. “You- -you actually want to do that kind of thing to me, don’t you?”

Brown turned his eyes to her. “Aside from the fact that you are a narrow-built Pegasus and that I do not find you attractive, I would consider that a dereliction of my duty.”

“Narrow built?! Who are you calling ‘narrow built’?”

“You, Lady Dash. I assumed that was obvious from my syntax.”

“Don’t call me ‘Lady’. Rainbow Dash is fine. Or Rainbow, even. But ‘Lady’ just sounds…girly.”

“I shall therefore use the name ‘Rainbow Dash’.”

“But they don’t bother?” Rainbow Dash gestured toward the world around her. “None of this bothers you?”

“I will admit that it all new to me,” said Brown, “but it is just the world to me. I find no part of it especially interesting, or especially unpleasant.”

“Wait a second,” said Rainbow Dash, trying to fathom what was going on. “You mean…so you don’t know anything about this world? I mean, at all?”

“The Commander has implanted some basic context into my memory to facilitate my function. But otherwise, no. I was just born a few hours ago.”

“And that…that doesn’t bother you?”

“No.”

“And you’re just…what? Going to follow me?”

“That is my primary mission, my order, and the reason for which I was created. I exist to protect you, and to serve the will of the Commander.”

“I don’t need protecting!” snapped Rainbow Dash.

“According to the Commander, you are currently being pursued by assassins.”

“Yeah. I am. And if they come at me again, I’ll take them out myself.”

“Doubtful. You are not a soldier.”

Rainbow Dash stopped walking and turned toward Brown. “No. You are not a soldier. I was a Wonderbolt. Do you know what that is?”

“No.”

“I was one of Celestia’s elite flyers. I am the only one here with actual military training.”

“You…you were a soldier?”

“Yeah. I was. So you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not a weak and helpless filly- -hay, when I was a filly, I still could have beat those nubs! I don’t need the help of some fluffy pony!”

She spread her wings, and relished how Brown’s eyes were momentarily drawn to them. Although his expression did not change much, she knew what he was thinking- -even if he did have wings, there was no way he would be able to follow her in the sky.

“Please don’t fly, Rainbow Dash.”

“Do you even realize what you just said?”

“If you fly, it makes my job harder. I did not mean for my presence to imply weakness on your part- -I am only here to help you. But if you fly, I can’t do that. Please, do not force me to break your wings.”

Rainbow Dash retracted her wings, and stared coldly into Brown’s eyes. She could not believe what he had just said.

“What did you just say to me?” she whispered.

“I said, ‘If you fly, it makes my job- -’”

“I heard that part. Did you just threaten to hurt my wings?”

“The Commander said that I can use any means necessary. I really would rather not, of course, but- -”

“No,” said Rainbow Dash, stepping forward. She pressed into his shoulder with her robotic arm. He was surprisingly sturdy for his small size; it was like trying to push over Applejack. “You won’t. Because if you even think about touching my wings, I will hurt you. And not the kind of hurt that gets fixed if you know what I mean.”

“You mean forever-sleep.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, horrified that she had just threatened to kill a pony but refusing to step back. “You do not say something like that. Not to anypony, and especially not to me. You got that?”

“I highly doubt that a wing-bearing pony such as yourself could kill me,” said Brown, “but seeing as we will be working together, I want our relationship to be at least neutral. I see that suggesting a threat to your wings has been taken as an offense, and that I may have overstepped a boundary. I therefore apologize.”

Rainbow Dash groaned. In her own way, she had actually wanted to fight. Five trusted this strange, fluffy pony as though he actually was a soldier, and had the audacity to assign this clone as “protection”. It was as though Brown was a challenge to her, and she wanted to prove that she could take him. Instead, he had simply apologized. “Come on,” she cried. “You are- -I don’t even think you realize how infuriating you are!”

She stomped off, pushing several ponies out of her way. Brown watched her go, and then followed her like a shadow.

Pretty Lady’s was busier than it had been before. Even though it was a Tuesday night, when Rainbow Dash walked in she saw that a number of ponies inside. A great number of them were in various stages of drunkenness, and some had already slumped over tables, their bottles still in their hooves. Many others were attended by Pretty Lady’s employees- -some of which were serving food and drinks to the shabby tables, but most of whom were well-dressed mares sitting close to their clients, and sometimes leading them off to the back rooms. Some of them Rainbow Dash distantly recognized as the ones that had been with Gell earlier, both as the attending mares and, more often, as the customers being attended.

“Where am I?” said Brown, sounding mildly disgusted as he stared up at a makeshift stage on which a sweater and sock clad mare was gyrating around a metal pole. Rainbow Dash did not even dignify him with a response.

Rainbow Dash crossed to the left side and unhooked her saddlebags with her mouth. She set them down and took a seat on one of the barstools. Pretty Lady, who was standing behind it, crossed over to her and leaned on the bar. She was larger than most mares, and abnormally muscular beneath her dress, which was a dull neutral color that made her almost painful to view pink coat stand out even more than it already did.

Rainbow Dash had initially been skeptical of Pretty Lady, as she was of most ponies in the future, but she had actually come to like the mare. She was tough and strong, two qualities that Rainbow Dash admired greatly, but not the point of being especially mean. In other words, the opposite of Five.

“You get the supplies?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, taking out a bag with her teeth and passing it to Pretty Lady. It contained mostly vegetables and various fruits, as well as a large can of industrial-strength beer nuts. Rainbow Dash set the bag on the bar.

“Gracias,” said Pretty Lady, passing the bag to a stallion in a greasy, soot-stained white apron. “Get to work,” she told the stallion. “And make it extra salty- -remember, the more thirsty they are, the more drinks they buy.”

The stallion nodded, and then turned to Rainbow Dash and gave a small awkward bow.

“You got the bat’s stuff too?”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Did you remember the green wafers?”

“Of course. You mentioned them like seventeen times. What’s so important about the green ones?”

“They’re made of ponies,” whispered the grinning unicorn bartender beside Lady.

“You,” said Pretty Lady. “Less talking more maky pony drunky!”

“Well, it’s a slow night,” said the bartender, setting down the glass he had been polishing. “They’re pretty well set. I’m going for a smoke.”

He stepped past Lady.

“Fine,” said Pretty Lady. “But if you come back hyped-up on E-metal again, I will shove it so far in your plot that you can’t tell your rising action from your climax for a week!”

The unicorn bartender waved and stepped into the kitchen.

“What is E-metal?” asked Rainbow Dash.

Pretty Lady pointed. Rainbow Dash looked behind her, to where several unicorns were sitting around a circular table. In the center was a golden setting, like the setting from some kind of giant ring, with a tiny shard of black and red metal in the center. They would each occasionally reach out and touch it, only to shudder and collapse, babbling incoherently to each other.

“Unicorn drug,” said Pretty Lady. “Most of it down here is road-apple quality, though. Which is better. The stuff those dome-class get can…well, it’ll mess you up.”

“I had a friend who was on that,” said Rainbow Dash, recalling what she had seen about Rarity in the Equestria History Museum.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Pretty Lady.

“No. She got better.”

“Really?” said Pretty Lady, raising one eyebrow. “Well. That’s not common. Usually it kills them. She must have been a strong mare. Or had somepony really important to her to get her through it.”

“She did,” said Rainbow Dash, feeling both happy and sad at the same time.

“Of course,” said Pretty Lady, reaching under the bar and removing a bottle of bluish, vaguely luminescent fluid, “E-metal doesn’t do a thing to earthies like me or wingbacks like you.” She set a pair of glasses on the counter. “We’ve got to do it the old fashioned way.”

She poured out the alchohol, and passed one of the glasses to Rainbow Dash.

“Thanks,” said Rainbow Dash. “Um…how exactly to I pay for this?”

Pretty Lady held up her hoof. “Nah. Bluntforce speaks highly of you. And from what you’ve told me, you need it pretty bad.”

Rainbow Dash took a large sip from the fluid, and found, much to her surprise, that it was some kind of cider. She took another swig.

“Look at you go,” said Pretty Lady, taking a sip from her own glass. “We’ll make an alcoholic out of you yet.” Her gaze turned to the edge of the bar, into a the shadows where Brown was standing, staring off into space at nothing in particular. “Hey you,” she said, causing Brown’s eyes to suddenly shift toward her. “You Rainbow’s coltfriend or something?”

“No,” said Rainbow Dash. “Eew. No. He’s the ‘security’ that Five got for me.”

“A bit hairy, isn’t he? What is your name, fluffy?”

“I am Brown.”

“I can see that. But what is your name?”

“His name is Brown,” said Rainbow Dash, taking another sip of her glowing cider.

“No fooling. Rainbow and Brown. Well, I’ve heard weirder. Hey Brown, come over here and have a seat. You’re scaring the customers.”

“Really?” said Brown, actually looking somewhat surprised.

“Yeah.” Pretty Lady, much to Rainbow Dash’s chagrin, pointed toward the seat next to her. Brown hesitated for a moment, and then clumsily climbed onto the barstool.

“By Celestia that’s a lot of hair,” said Pretty Lady. “You want something to drink, hairy?”

“Hab miwkie?” said Brown. Both Rainbow Dash and Pretty Lady stared at him in silence for a moment, and Brown cleared his throat. “My apologies. To rephrase: do you have milk?”

“No. Nopony goes to a bar and orders milk.”

“Oh,” said Brown, looking disappointed.

“Why are you so hairy?” said Pretty Lady, leaning on the bar. “I mean, that fluff…”

“I am Exmoori,” said Brown. “We’re all like this.”

“Well,” said Pretty Lady. “You’re about fifty years too late. Back then, hair on a stallion was just about the sexiest thing possible. Everypony had a beard, wore v-neck shirts, that sort of stuff. Celestia, I was just a little colt back then. How time flies.”

“V-neck?” said Brown, looking mildly confused.

“Wait a second…colt?” said Rainbow Dash.

“Yeah. I was a darn cute one, too. Probably have pictures somewhere.” She smiled. “I was even a cutie mark crusader, back in the day, down at the chapter over on Lyra Street. You know, before it was turned into a liquor store.”

“I- -I didn’t know you were a stallion,” said Rainbow Dash, confused and feeling incredibly awkward.

“I’m not,” said Pretty Lady, not amused. “Not anymore, anyway.”

“What- -how did that even happen?”

“Bluntforce Gelding happened. Those teeth she has? Yeah. They’re sharp. Very sharp.”

“She…she…”

“Bit off my penis and nards, yes. Looked me in the eyes and swallowed them. There wasn’t enough left for the doctors to give me a new one, not with how much money I had back then- -but they still managed to turn what was left inside-out. They couldn’t make me a stallion, but they could make me a mare.” She looked into her glass. “It’s funny. My last thought as a stallion was ‘oh, I’m about to get blown’. Yeah right.”

Brown seemed disturbed by this, and was holding his hoof near his crotch, as if trying to protect his own “speciw wumps”.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Sorry?” This time, Pretty Lady actually laughed. “Sorry is the last thing you need to be! See, back then, I wasn’t exactly what you’d call a ‘model citizen’. Ran with a bad crowd. Angry all the time. They’d make fun of my color, or my cutie mark- - ” she lifted the slit in her dress, revealing that her mark was of a bottle of alcohol, labeled “XXX”, with a trio of daisies protruding from the top “- -and I’d beat them to a pulp. Then I met Bluntforce. And you know, I think maybe somehow she could smell it.”

“Smell what?”

“The reason I was so angry. I didn’t even realize it until after the surgery. I never fit into my body. I was born a mare. I think she might have known. I hope she knew. I wasn’t comfortable with myself, or with my life- -but after, I was. For once I could hold my head up proudly. I got this place, built a business. Bluntforce and I have been friends now for almost forty years.”

“So that means…” Rainbow Dash tried to do the math in her head. “You’re almost as old as Five.”

“Yeah. I hate to admit it, of course. The fact that she and Bluntforce don’t age, but I do. To be honest, its torment for Bluntforce, but she doesn’t ever show it- -but the bat doesn’t care. She never did. She freaks me the hay out. My advice: you can trust Bluntforce, if she likes you- -but never trust the bat. She will hurt you.”

“Kind of hard in my circumstance,” admitted Rainbow Dash.

“Who is Bluntforce?” asked Brown, genuinely confused.

Rainbow Dash dropped her head against the bar. Pretty Lady may have had some kind of moral in her story, but all of it had gone over Brown’s head. Rainbow Dash recalled that he had never met Gell. Gell had returned to the Pocket and was sleeping. Five, likewise, had gone out to gather supplies- -something that Rainbow Dash imagined involved theft or extortion. Proctor, meanwhile- -at least according to a rapidfire and nonsensical story that he had told them- -had somehow acquired a large quantity of mints from a passerby and- -through unknown means- -invested them in spiced figs. Through several further and equally strange steps, he had acquired a warehouse full of tungsten, which he was now in the process of liquidating. At least, that was what Rainbow Dash had understood.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” said Pretty Lady. She looked around at her bar, which was now mostly quiet, aside from the sound of a few conversations between the ponies or the giggling of the mares. Most of them seemed interested in drinking, though. Lady sighed. “Well…what do I expect. Taco Tuesday is stealing all the business again.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, Rainbow. If you don’t want to get backstabbed, you could work here.”

“What?!” cried Rainbow Dash, nearly spilling the dregs of her drink. “No- -I- -that’s not what I- -I don’t want to- -”

“Relax,” said Pretty Lady. “Chill. I’m not saying that you should start out as one of the main girls. Besides, stallions don’t usually pay well for cyborgs. Some mares do, but not usually the kind that come here. Buy from what Buntforce tells me, you’re flighted.”

“Yeah. I can fly,” said Rainbow Dash, with equal parts pride in herself and shame in her species.

“A Pegasus who can fly. I always wondered why they can’t, what with the wings. But a Pegasus that can fly as a dancer- -you could pack the house. Easily.”

“Ha,” said Rainbow Dash, still blushing but feeling slightly flattered. “I’ll have to drink a lot more before you can get me on that stage.”

“Well, then,” she said, refilling Rainbow Dash’s glass. “Let’s see if we can’t get you on the pole.”

“You’re on,” said Rainbow Dash, drowning half the glass.

“Brown boy,” said Pretty Lady. “You sure you don’t want any? Food or something, even? Kitchens not at all busy right now.”

“Food?” said Brown. He seemed to consider for a moment. “I…I am hungry, but, I…”

“You what?”

“I…I don’t know how to eat.”

“You don’t know how to eat?” said Pretty Lady. Her eyes narrowed. “Brown. How old are you?”

“About seven hours,” he said.

“Oh. Okay.”

“That doesn’t bother you?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“I’ve known Five my whole life- -nothing she does surprises me anymore. The bigger question is,” she pointed at Brown. “Does he have a cutie mark under there?”

Brown looked at his fluffy flank. “You know…I actually don’t know,” he said.

“Hold on a second. I’ll see if we have leftovers.”

Pretty Lady walked through the door to the kitchen. Rainbow Dash turned to Brown.

“So you can kill a pony but can’t eat?” she said.

“I was just born,” said Brown. “I can eat milk. Solid food is…confusing.”

Pretty Lady returned quickly, expertly holding to plates. She dropped them on the bar in front of Rainbow Dash and Brown. Each one contained a mass of steaming noodles covered in sauce and bits of green material.

“Cool,” said Rainbow Dash. “I was kind of hungry.”

“Yeah, it was close to expiring. Figured we should probably give it to you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Brown looked carefully at the plate, lowering his face near it. He momentarily pawed at a stray noodle. “What is this?” he asked. “It smells grotesque.”

“Spaghetti,” said Pretty Lady. “House favorite. Mostly ‘cause this one guy likes to roll his mares in it before getting down to business.”

An extremely drunk pony looked up from behind them. “Hey!” he cried. “Just cause I - -hic- -like a saucy lass doesn’t mean I’m some kind of- -” he then slumped on the table, fully unconscious.

“Anyway…it’s okay to eat, too. Usually.”

“And it is called…sketti?”

Rainbow Dash snorted. “Um, no. ‘Spagetti’.”

“Sketti.” Brown appeared to, for the first time, become distressed and confused at his inability to pronounce the word.

“No,” said Pretty Lady. “Spa. Get. Ty.”

“Sk. Et. Ee.” Brown frowned. “It seems that I have an inability to pronounce this world. I would simply refer to it as ‘noodles’, but for some reason that term causes my entire lower body to clench. I believe there may be an error in my genetic pre-programming. However…”

He suddenly dropped his face directly into the plate of spaghetti. Pretty Lady and Rainbow Dash just watched in disbelief for a moment- -and then Rainbow Dash noticed the noodles being pulled away with a sucking sound. After a few moments- -for some reason, she could not look away- -the noodles were gone.

Brown sighed. “By the Fluffle…I’ve become a stereotype.”

Five shifted the bolt on the rifle, feeling the tightness and weight of the action. It felt good in her hooves, but the complexity of the required actions indicated that it had been designed for a unicorn.

“No,” she said. “No. Not this one.” She sighed. “I need something that can be hoof-fired. Earth pony type. Large caliber. Accurate and automatic.”

“With your budget?” said the ram behind the counter. “Nahhh.”

“Fine,” said Five. Although she had not checked her inventory in several years, she was sure she had an appropriate firearm somewhere. In her mind, she had a vision of what was correct- -a partial memory of what the ancient Exmoori rifles had once looked like. They were strange, almost spear-like, with rounded edges and long barrels. She doubted that she had anything like that, but if even if she did not, she could probably build one.

Five crossed the low-ceilinged room through the greenish light of the florescent bulbs overhead. “Then the ammo, the parts, and a pair of pliers. Also, nutrocubes, if you have them.”

“Nutrocubes?” said the ram, raising an eybrow. “Nopony eats those.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re baaaaaahd.” He clapped his hoof over his mouth, embarrassed by the outburst.

Five hardly noticed. Behind her, she felt the characteristic electrical ionization of a pentagonal portal opening.

“I thought you sent Rainbow Dash to get those,” said Gell, seeming to materialize from behind a rusty shelving unit- -and causing the ram to nearly jump out of his chair. “Hello, Fleecing,” she said, smiling.

“No. You can’t be in here,” said Fleecing. “You’re like a bull in my beautiful china shop- -”

“Did you just call me a bull?” said Gell, frowning.

“I- -I can report you, you know!” said Fleecing, suddenly nervous. “You two- -you two are wanted criminals! I could get a big reward!”

“The only reward mercenaries give is a free bullet,” said Five. “And…considering that virtually all of your customers are criminals anyway…well, you would lose your reputation for security and friendly service.”

“Buck you,” he said, although he did not get off his chair. He just went back his work- -which consisted of a child-difficulty crossword puzzle.
“As for Ms. Dash,” said Five, picking up a clip of inferior quality gold bullets. “But there is a risk that she has poisoned them.”

“Poisoned? By Rainbow Dash. Really? And you can’t even be poisoned!”

“Yes I can. It can’t kill me, but I still feel the effects. It hurts, Gell. And I do not trust her. Why do you think I created an absolutely loyal soldier to watch her?”

“About that,” said Gell, leading Five behind a shelf filled with a combination of homemade suppressors and snow globes. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“Is that why you woke up and came to bother me?”

“Yes. Which you know means that it’s important. Proctor told me what you did- -and An? An Exmoori?”

“I worked with what I had,” said Five, shrugging.

“No. You don’t understand. Do you even know what those are?”

“I was there, Gell. I watched their species evolve. And I watched Celestia wipe them out.”

“No. Blackest Night was there. You’ve never actually seen one. I have. My dad is a prison guard in Tartarus. I grew up around prisoners. Serial killers, mass murderers, monsters, abominations. Tirac, the Carcosan, There, even that cyborg that does nothing but scream- -but the Pink One was the worst. The way it stared…those blue eyes…” Gell shivered, something that was not at all common for her.

“The Beast of Exmoor is hardly exemplary of the race,” said Five.

“And if the thing goes postal?”

“Then I drop it on a city I don’t like and see what happens.”

“And if it kills Rainbow Dash?”

“Then it saves me the trouble. But it won’t. It sees me as its ‘Commander’, at least for now. It will do everything I say. Without getting paid.”

“Speaking of getting paid,” said Pinkie_Proctor, suddenly stepping out from beside Gell. Gell jumped substantially, nearly knocking over a shelf of canned spleens.

“What the- -how did you get here?” she demanded, clutching her abdomen- -which was where her primary heart was located.

“Well, when a mommy robot and a daddy robot love each other very much- -they cover themselves in motor oil and grind transmissions all. Night. Long.”

Five was equally disturbed by how well Proctor could sneak- -but did not show it. Proctor, meanwhile, looked as innocent-ish as always. Some parts of his body seemed slightly different, from modifications he was starting to make. The most noticeable was the pair of LCD screens in his flank, which now displayed one of six cutie marks at any given time. That vaguely amused Five- -she had never actually seen an equidroid with a cutie mark before.

“Here,” said Proctor, passing set of universal ammunition clips held together with a rubber band to her. “For you.”

“What is it?” said Five, taking it and expelling one red-colored bullet.

“When I sold out the warehouse,” said Proctor_Dash, “I had the unicorns make some of this. It’s wolfram ammo- -except it’s also incendiary.”

“Armor-piercing incendiary ammo? What in Equestria would I use this on?”

“No idea- -but it would be awesome!”

“Yes,” said Five. “I suppose it would.” She paused. “Gell, what would happen if I shot you with this?”

“I would smash in your face,” said Gell. “Actually. Just for saying that…”

Five suddenly felt a burst and saw a flash of light as she was struck in the face. Then she was moving, flying backward, a trail of blood following her. She struck a shelf and a number of sharp objects pierced her back.

“Ah. Yes. Of course,” she said, standing up, her face rapidly regenerating. The shelf itself, she saw, was being supported by Proctor’s “magic”, which he promptly used to restore the contents to their original positions.

“Hey hey hey!” cried Fleecing. “You break it, you buy it! No fighting in here, or out!” Proctor caught his eye. “And hye- -what do you want for the equidroid?”

“Yo mamma’s virginity,” said Pinkie_Proctor.

“That is not something Pinkie would say,” said Five.

“Well, I’m sure she would have if it weren’t for that dirty FCC.”

Five stood up and pulled several of the items in her back out of it. Luckily, they had missed her spine and hit her kidneys instead. “Well. Proctor, what is your opinion of our new pet?”

“He’s so very fluffy,” said Proctor_Shy.

“That’s…that’s it?”

“Sorry…I’m devoting a huge amount of processing power to stock-market manipulation right now. Fluffy. Fluffy Fluffy Fluffy. But…” Twilight_Proctor paused. “Organics…organics will always betray you…”

“This thing,” said Gell, “freaks me out.” Gell reached down and pulled out a bayonet that Five was having trouble reaching. “I’m just surprised that they managed that they just sold you a fully adult clone like that. I mean, how long it must have taken them to make that thing…”

“Well,” said Five, glaring at Proctor. “The science of cloning has been improved in recent decades. They had several adults in stock. The brown one was cheapest. Speaking of money. Proctor?”

“Yeah,” he said, moving toward the counter. “Cause a robot needs cash lahke an eel needs ah boot.”

“Eel?” said Gell, her eyes lighting up. “Can we have eel tonight? Ooh ooh! Eel stuffed with pony eyes!”

“Sure,” said Five, internally breathing a sigh of relief. “Why not?”

The situation seemed to be diffused. On some level, though, Five was actually starting to doubt her decision. She did what needed to be done. Unlike Gell, she was not disturbed by Brown’s existence- -but rather his nature. The very feature that made him loyal and obedient was also abhorrent to Five. She knew that she could not allow it to last. She had long ago decided that no creature must be allowed to believe the lie- -and no creature must be allowed to love her. Eventually, she would not be able to avoid what doing what was right. She would make Brown hate her. They would all hate her- -or rather, the lie that had been forced upon her.

She smiled at the thought of it. Then her smile collapsed. She would realize her goals- -but only if she had enough time. As Gell crossed the room to join Proctor, Five passed behind a set of shelves. Her eyes scanned the labels on the bottles, and she pocketed a small bottle of pills.

Rainbow Dash smiled, and looked out at the land before her. Through the wisps of clouds and the cold high air, she could see the land that was hers: the green moss that grew over the rock of the mountaintop, and the precisely spaced ferns beneath her trees, laden with golden fruit.

Below that, she knew, was the city. She could see the tops of the nearest of the buildings, the minarets and steeples of her people’s palaces, built with technology and knowlage that the other races could only dream of. Looking out at it made her happy, but that happiness was tinged with an ever-present ennui.

So she leaned back, and put her arms around the mares leaning against her. As she did, her head hurt- -something was wrong. She could not remember why the mares were so much larger than ponies, and how their bodies and wings were not made of flesh but out of mechanical, golden metal- -or how her own arms matched their material.

She quickly forgot. They smiled up at her, and rubbed closer, their metallic golden bodies clicking against hers as they giggled.

A colt approached her and bowed deeply. His body was made of metal as well, but his color was gray, and his wings smaller. His mechanical eyes never met Rainbow Dash’s. Instead, he held out a tray with a single glass of the finest crystal.

Rainbow Dash took the goblet in her golden hoof and swirled the red liquid within it. She then took a sip- -and realized that it was not wine.

She looked out down the staircase, and realized that something was approaching her. Its body was metal, but it was not a pony. It had no wings. It’s metal skin was blackened and strange, and it stood on two legs, its arms swinging slowly at its sides as though it were controlled by some unseen external force. Its white, glowing eyes stared forward- -staring at Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow Dash realized that she was alone. She was afraid- -and that was enough to drive away the boredom. She took another sip from the glass, and dropped it onto the ground. It shattered, and she ground the bits underneath her hoof.

Then she turned back to the creature, which was now standing directly over her, its white eyes staring into her golden ones. Rainbow Dash smiled.

“Hello, Father,” she said.

Rainbow Dash jerked awake. She looked around at the cramped, dark room she had been sleeping in and pushed back the threadbare sheets. She ran her hoof across her brow, and found that she was covered in sweat.

She held her left foreleg in front of her, and concentrated. A hologram appeared over it, displaying the time. It was morning.

“Ohh my head,” said Rainbow Dash, realizing that she was highly hung over. She vaguely recalled the events of last night- -something about blue cider, and about dancing on a pole. She could not remember exactly how much alcohol she had swallowed, but that blue cider had packed a mighty punch.

Rainbow Dash slid out of bed into the storage closet. Despite having eaten several plates of spaghetti, she was still incredibly hungry- -even though the thought of food made her sick.

As she looked around the room, however, she realized that there was something unusual amongst the boxes and crates. At the base of the foot of her bed was a large furry lump. Brown, it seemed, had snuck in during the night and was now sleeping on the floor.

Rainbow Dash was suddenly angry, and was about to kick Brown sharply and throw him out- -after all, she was disheveled and needed to preen herself- -but then blurry memories surfaced of what a hard time he had had last night. Apparently, he was completely incapable of digesting solid food. He had spent most of the night vomiting his “skettis” into a toilet.

That, and he looked oddly innocent sleeping. Rainbow Dash was reminded of the tiny, chirping foal that she had seen in a pool of incubation fluid and glass shards, raising its tiny legs to the sky, not even able to open his eyes.

Brown stirred, kicking slightly. Rainbow Dash could not actually see where his head was, because of the way he was curled, but she distantly heard him talking in his sleep.

“Nuuu,” he whispered, kicking. “Wewe is mummah?...babbeh need…need miwkies…need wuv…why mummuh leave babbeh?...am bad babbeh?....babbeh so awone…so cowd…”

Rainbow Dash felt a twinge of something in her chest. She was not sure what, but it made her sad. She pulled the blanket off her bed and dropped it on Brown. He moved slightly, and Rainbow Dash saw the blanket get pulled inward in the center, as if Brown were trying to hug it.

As she did, a card dropped out of her mane. Confused, Rainbow Dash picked it up. She wondered how it had gotten there- -but then recalled the derp-eyed unicorn that had saved her life. In all the commotion, she had forgotten that she had been given it.

Rainbow dash looked at the card. It was something like a business card, or perhaps a playing card. On the back was a symbol that looked something like a threatening eye with a red pupil. She turned it over in her hoof. On the back was a series of coordinates, and a hoof written note.

“Dear rainbow mare,” she said, reading it quietly as not to wake Brown. “Princess Vale beckons.” That was all it said, but for some reason Rainbow Dash felt cold. The way it was written, in a language that she could read, was strange enough, but she remembered that she had seen that word before, painted on walls. Even stranger, though, was that it had no residence with her- -Five had never mentioned a Princess other than Thebe.

Worse, though, was that when Rainbow Dash read the word aloud, a face came to her mind. She had only ever seen the pony it belonged to once, with Twilight: a yellow mare with a red mane and blood-red, pupiless eyes, and a cutie mark of a wide, staring eye.

Rainbow Dash shivered. She put the card away. Her mind was cloudy and mixed. She was sleeping in a storage room over a bar with a cat-like fluffy pony under a blanket next to her. She was hung over, and her feathers looked like she could start a pillow factory. There were more immediate concerns to her than a mysterious princess wanting to meet her.