There was no better vantage for the approaching sunset than one of the high towers of Canterlot Palace. Out on the balcony, far above it all, Steve found the experience meditative, quite conducive for casting the modified realm size spell. The target of that spell, the star that Luna had been moving ever closer, was now bright enough to be barely visible in the sunlit sky.

Meg was getting antsy. “Twilight better hurry up with our special guests or they’ll miss the show.”

It’d be even more meditative if he could tune out the voices around him.

“I can delay for a few more minutes,” Celestia said, “but no more.”

“The night cools the world, revitalizing,” Luna said. “Every minute of delay impairs the balance.”

It was elementary physics, seemingly as applicable in this universe as his own. The night cools by providing a heat sink; heat radiates away as infrared radiation, while the frigid depths of space provide little in return. That’s how it worked on Earth, but what if this realm really was fixed in size? Its volume would become saturated over time with infrared radiation, diminishing the cooling effect of night.

How long would that take? If this universe’s size was truly measured in light-hours… But did that really matter? If the curvature was positive, every photon emitted by the planet would loop around and be absorbed by the opposite side. That was almost certainly an oversimplification, but the point remained: there shouldn’t be any nighttime cooling by now. Yet there indisputably was.

The Sun’s descent had slowed to a crawl, barely dipping behind the distant ridge of mountains, the source of light and heat waiting for the final “push” to end its labors for the day. Steve gazed at his target star. Feedback should be arriving any minute now. Maybe this time, it would start providing answers to these questions. If he was really lucky, it wouldn’t boil down to “it’s magic!”

“Are we too late?” Twilight raced onto the balcony. Behind her, at a considerably more sedate pace, were Agents Ruebens and Fowler.

“Not at all, Twilight. You’re just in time.” The Sun had frozen in place, an uncommon sight. Celestia’s horn glowed, and it descended the remainder of the way, dimming as it did to nothingness. A star-filled sky emerged, one star far outshining the others.

Luna completed the changeover. On the other side of the sky, the crescent Moon quickly rose above the Canterlot mountain, lighting up as it did so.

“Wow,” Jessica said. “Knowing about it is one thing, but seeing it… is something else.”

“I have to agree,” Paul said. “I wouldn’t believe my own eyes, if I didn’t know where I was. There’s no way your sun and moon could possibly be physical objects similar to our own.”

“Oh, they’re not,” Steve said. “In a way, it’s all a magical illusion.” Twilight had explained their nature to him long ago, during one of his early lessons in unicorn magic: a pair of intensely magical objects about a thousand feet across, hovering motionless approximately twelve thousand miles up. The light they magically created over the entire atmosphere had to enter the air at the exact same angle relative to the ground below to create the illusion of the sun and moon appearing in the same place in the sky regardless of longitude.

Why didn’t their magic create the illusion of a star millions of miles away, so that it worked just like back home? Why create an effect so similar, yet different? It had to have had a profound impact on weather systems, the entire planet warming up at once then cooling down—which pegasi then manage?

“But what’s with that star?” Jessica pointed a finger at it. “That can’t be normal, could it?” She noticed Steve’s glowing horn and that he was watching it. “Are you doing that?”

Princess Luna rolled her eyes. “Nay. That is my doing. I am slowly but surely bringing it to us as close as it would come.”

There were enough mysteries for now. “And I am trying to analyze it with my magic, so far with little success.”

Jessica held her forehead. “You can bring a star across light—” She dropped her hand. “Right, it’s not the same kind of star as what we have.”

“Light-hours, at most,” Steve said. “And it most certainly is not a massive ball of hydrogen undergoing thermonuclear fusion. What it is I hope to find out.”

Princess Celestia poured tea for the new arrivals. “We should attend to matters at hoof. When shall you be ready to bring Lord Tirek to your realm?”

And this is where I tune out. This meeting didn’t concern him. He remained only because Luna was here, just in case something happened that required her attention.

The two Secret Service agents sat in the two chairs that had been provided for them, and two teacups floated over to them. “At least another week,” Reubens said, taking hold of his teacup. “His security will need to be provided for—we’ll handle that, treating him as a foreign dignitary—and we figure he’ll need assistance to adapt to the modern world. How best to accomplish that is the main sticking point.”

“Will your media be present when he’s released from Tartarus?” Twilight asked.

“I guess that’s mostly up to you,” Fowler said, “but they certainly want to cover it. The ratings on his press conference broke records.”

“We do want them there, but not for the reason you might think.” Twilight looked at the pegasus in attendance. “We want Meg to be present and on camera, both as a human and as a pegasus.”

Meg looked towards Steve, who nodded in return. They had spent most of last night debating—and arguing—what to do. It was time to commit or bail. “That’s right,” she said.

The two agents were speechless. “Uh,” Fowler said, “forgive me for asking a stupid question, but how are you supposed to be standing next to yourself?”

Twilight looked them straight in the eyes. “A changeling will assume the form of Common Ground the pegasus.”

“Okay…” Fowler’s eyes wandered about as she digested that. “That would obviously work, and I’ll assume you know what you’re doing when it comes to changelings.”

“This particular changeling is not associated with any hive, much less Chrysalis’.”

The agent digested that fact as well. “I’ll also assume this changeling will not be coming back with us to our world?”

“That is correct. I expect Meg will return with you, however. We just need to justify her presence.”

Reubens cradled his teacup. “The point of this exercise, I take it, is to provide ‘proof’ that Meg doesn’t moonlight as a pegasus.” He got a surprised look from Twilight. “It’s a common enough ploy in superhero comics and TV shows when a secret identity has been revealed.”

“Uh… right. I’ll have to ask Spike if the same is true in our comics.”

“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.” He got serious. “But that just raises the question: why is this necessary? The Section operatives have kept their silence, as per our ‘understanding.’” He waved a hand. “Not that some insurance wouldn’t be a bad idea, mind you.”

All eyes were on Meg.

“There’s an individual I’ve told—worse, shown—and that has proven to be a… mistake.”

It was just as much about Tirek, of course, but Steve knew Meg wasn’t going to mention that to the agents. That would be admitting to time travel, something everyone agreed would be best to keep from the authorities. Even the video evidence of Susie’s kidnapping had been explained as being “magically” acquired.

“Is it someone we should be aware of?” Reubens asked.

Meg hesitated. “It’s outside your jurisdiction?”

“What if this person would have contact with Tirek?” Twilight sighed. “Sorry, Meg, but I really don’t understand your reluctance here.”

You and me both, Steven thought.

Agent Reubens choose his words carefully. “Protecting Tirek falls under our jurisdiction. Beyond that, I cannot say without further information.”

“It doesn’t hurt to tell us,” Agent Fowler said. “The worst we could say is that you’re right: it doesn’t fall under our jurisdiction. Maybe we could recommend someone whose jurisdiction it does fall under?”

Meg stood up and started to wander about the balcony. “It’s Andrew Malley, the president of SILICon—that’s the brony convention I’m a volunteer at. He’s—how shall I put it?—extremely ‘enthusiastic’ about booking Tirek at the next convention in a few weeks.”

“And what does ‘enthusiastic’ mean?” Reubens asked.

“Book him, or else.” She tossed her head in pent-up frustration. “Oh, he immediately walked that back, talked about making it worth my while—without getting specific—but he had to mention that someone like me, a human who has been transformed into a pony, would be big news too. Not that he would do that, oh no, since he wasn’t the villain.”

“Hence the changeling deception,” Fowler said. “May I ask how he learned about this?”

“I brought several of the senior staff to my castle for a quick meeting,” Twilight said. “Meg came along, knowing what that would reveal.”

Meg was at the railing, looking down at the distant lights of Ponyville. “It seemed a good idea at the time. I was overthinking the meaning of my cutie mark.”

“Did you book Tirek?” Reubens asked. “That’s certainly something we need to prepare for.”

“Not officially. Rarity did present the opportunity to him during one the fitting sessions for his robes. He’s interested, for what it’s worth.”

Jessica smirked. “I knew that was a Rarity design,” she muttered.

Her partner ignored that. “Assuming that booking becomes official, provisions for his security at the convention would need to be arranged.” He raised an eyebrow at Meg. “I’d say that calls for a meeting. Could you arrange one?”

Meg turned around. “Uh, sure? But what about my situation? Yeah, sure, he’s getting what he wants, this time. But there’s always a next time, and I want out.”

He sipped his tea. “As you suspected, it’s not under our jurisdiction. But I think you’ll find that being our official point of contact might… influence Andrew’s future decisions.”

Meg blinked. “I am? Your official contact, that is.”

“Someone has to be,” Fowler said. “Might as well be you, don’t you think?”

“You might also wish to mention that the President will be keeping a close eye on everything Tirek for the foreseeable future,” Reubens added. “And he certainly knows of your involvement in this undertaking.”

The pegasus once more stared at faraway town. “Yeah. I’m so involved, I’ll be there on international television when he walks through the Gates of Tartarus. Just need to figure out how I’m involved.”

Steve’s head snapped up. Feedback from the spell had arrived. This time, it was different.

It had not escaped Princess Luna’s attention. “It is finally close enough?”

He closed his eyes and focused. “Maybe… Something’s coming in, but I’m not sure what yet.” Whatever it was, it was tickling his special talent. “Just ignore me for now.”

“Consider yourself ignored,” Celestia said with a smile. “I believe the best way for you to be involved, Meg, is for you to assist with Tirek’s habituation to your world. You would be introduced to him in that role once Twilight has restored his human form.”

Meg’s head slumped against the railings. “Serrell has already expressed the same idea to me, more or less.”

“I understand your concerns,” Celestia said, hinting at the true reason, “but do not forget that to Tirek you are just another human.”

Meg sighed. “Point taken. Heh. Who knows? Maybe he’ll come to trust me enough to blab about how he’d escaped from Tartarus before.”

“That would be nice,” Twilight said. She lit up. “Perhaps it was destined to happen?”

Meg gave her the stink eye. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Twilight returned a sheepish look. “Sorry?”

The pegasus shook her head, sighing. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Approaching the agents, she said, “Let’s change the subject. Maybe there’s something else you can help me with.”

Fowler shrugged. “We’re listening.”

“It concerns a birthday party for Dinky. She wants to have it in our world, but… I just don’t see how to make it happen without putting them in danger. I mean, sure, we could hold it at my place, but that would hardly be different from holding it in Equestria. Yet hold it at some restaurant…”

“And it would be instantly tweeted to the world with pictures,” Jessica said, “attracting a crowd—and probably some nutcases.”

“Yeah. That.”

“I don’t see how we can help with that.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Here’s the thing. You’re going to provide security for Tirek at the convention. Guess when Dinky’s birthday is.”

The two agents looked at each other. “During the convention?” Reubens guessed.

Meg nodded. “Right. So what if it was held there? We wouldn’t publicize it. It would come as a complete surprise to the attendees. Maybe we’d have a lottery to select who gets to attend, but we’d keep that a secret from the winners until the last minute. You’ll already be keeping the crazies out because of Tirek; that’ll be a big help. Perhaps have a few ponies to provide security for the party itself.” She looked at Twilight. “Maybe an unannounced appearance by a princess, for example?”

Twilight tilted her head in thought.

“We’ll get back to you on that,” Reubens said. “But I can say right now there’s a non-negotiable condition: should there be any trouble, you must contact us immediately. You’re allowed to keep everyone safe until one of us arrives, but no more.”

“I agree to that condition,” Twilight said. “I also see no reason why an agent couldn’t attend the party under the guise of being one of the convention staff.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing that,” Fowler said, “but we’ll have to see. If your appearance was limited to this party and it wasn’t pre-announced, I don’t think there’d be any problems. The same applies to the rest of the Mane Six, I’d think.”

“Like I said, we’ll get back to you.” Reubens finished off his tea. “First order of business, I believe, is to have a chat with the convention senior staff.”

The rest of the conversation faded away as it became increasingly clear to Steve that the nearest star in the night sky was doing something to the space-time surrounding it—if only he could make out what.

The mailmare’s face lit up with a smile. “You’ve found a place?”

“Absolutelitutely!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Dinky will have the bestest, most humanist birthday party ever!”

“Now don’t get too excited,” Meg said. “A room is still a room. If not for the humans who’ll be invited, you wouldn’t really be able to tell you weren’t in Equestria.” She looked around the room. It was hard to miss the pervasive gingerbread house theme of Sugarcube Corner’s party room. So maybe you could tell.

Fortunately, she could offer more than just that one room. “It should be possible to have a tour of the convention before it opens for the day—or after it closes—or maybe during, but you’ll have to be invisible and preferably well off the ground, which means a pegasus will have to carry her.”

Derpy’s smile faltered. “Guess it can’t be me, then. I can’t do invisibility.”

“Not a problem,” Pinkie said, beaming. “Those plaid pills can make you invisible. Though wouldn’t it be super fun for you to go visible for like a few seconds here and there? We could have “where’s Derpy” prizes. The bronies will love it!”

They probably would, too. Whether it was fair to put Derpy through that was a different matter. “I wouldn’t go that far. Anyway, there won’t be many magic generators present, so just avoid those areas and you’ll be fine.”

The mailmare’s smile had turned to confusion. “Huh? Wouldn’t invisibility need magic?”

“Yes, but those plaid pills provide their own magic, and they won’t do that in the presence of a magical field. The invisibility spell only works when the pill is supplying the magic.”

Her muzzle scrunched. “Even I can see that doesn’t make sense.”

It’s Discord. What do you expect? Not that she could mention that. And it was hard to say if that limitation was due to some perfectly reasonable limitation of chaos magic—or just his capriciousness. “It is what it is, unfortunately.”

The party pony, thankfully, changed the subject. “I’ll have to come up with room decorations, of course.” She hummed to herself. “Something human themed, I would think.”

Whatever that meant, but that was Pinkie’s problem. “You shouldn’t rely on your party cannon working there.” She’d certainly have to bring it across like any other sensible object. “At least test it there first.”

A sudden thought struck terror into Meg’s heart. That cannon was a physical object, right? It might be a useless, physical object when deprived of an Equestrian magical field, but it was still just a plain, old, run-of-the-mill physical object made up of boringly ordinary atoms. Not some form of crystalized magic that would destroy a universe unable to reconcile itself with that magic’s existence.

Of course, one could say the same about Pinkie Pie herself, and the universe had coped with her presence just fine. Regardless, better to have Twilight check that cannon out first. She’s probably been looking for an excuse to do that anyway, if she hadn’t done so already.

“What kind of presents would humans give my little muffin for her birthday?”

Meg grimaced. This might be awkward to explain. “Actually… they won’t know they’ll be attending a birthday party. For security reasons, it’ll be kept a secret until it’s over. We’ll hold a lottery to determine who attends your party. All anyone will be told is that those selected will have an experience to remember.” Phrased better than that, hopefully. “I’ll see about buying something as a present from the dealer room. Or maybe take a lot of pictures of items for sale and let her decide what she wants.”

“It is what it is?” Derpy asked, repeating that phrase back to Meg. “How many humans will be attending?”

“We haven’t decided yet. We’d be looking for children around Dinky’s age, naturally, but their parents couldn’t reasonably be excluded. There’ll be ponies present as well, and we’ll want to keep the numbers manageable.”

Derpy frowned. “I can’t help but worry about what might go wrong.”

You and me both. “Twilight will be there—”

“And me!”

“—and Pinkie,” Meg obligingly added, “almost certainly Applejack, and maybe Rainbow Dash, and you can trust them to keep Dinky and the other foals safe.”

Meg led the way through the cafe brewery to the now familiar table. This time, the loud background noise did little to provide a sense of privacy—but perhaps that could work to her advantage as well. It was better to just get it over with.

They reached the table. As had become her routine, Meg took a seat some distance from the president of the convention, but not before pointing him out to the unexpected and uninvited guests. Agent Reubens took the closest available seat to Andrew, right across the table from him; he smiled disarmingly at the president of the convention. Agent Fowler sat next to Meg.

Andrew raised an eyebrow at Meg. “I trust there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this?”

All heads turned to Meg. She countered the raised eyebrow with a smug smile. “As a matter of fact, there is. You want Tirek to appear? You’ll have to deal with these two.”

He faced the man across from him. “Are you his agent, or something? You know there’s no money involved, right?”

“Agent,” Reubens repeated. “You could say that.” He took out his badge and presented it. “Secret Service. I’m Agent Reubens, and that’s Agent Fowler. We’re providing security for Lord Tirek, as directed by President Serrell.”

Andrew stared wordlessly at the badge. He looked up. “This isn’t some prank, right? I honestly have no idea if that’s a real badge.”

“It’s real,” Meg said, surprised at the satisfaction she felt saying it. “They’re the real deal.”

Andrew looked her, not sure what to make of it. “So you say.”

“If it’s proof you want, that can be supplied later.” Reubens pocketed his badge. “But for now, allow me to talk. As an honorary foreign dignitary, his security falls under our jurisdiction. We’ll be overseeing security at the convention during his public appearance. Meg Coleman is to be our point of contact with your organization.” His eyes bore into Andrew’s. “The President will be keeping a close eye on this event.”

Andrew glanced at Meg. “Why her?”

Reubens leaned back. “She was recommended by Princess Twilight Sparkle. The President accepted the recommendation.”

Meg grabbed a handful of tortilla chips. “You know about the Chinese Curses, right? Everyone’s heard of ‘May you live in interesting times,’ and right now they sure are interesting. But there are two others. ‘May you be recognized by people in high places’ is one of them; that’s my curse. That last one is ‘May you find what you’re looking for.’” She dipped a chip in some salsa. “You wanted Tirek; you’ve got Tirek. Well, probably. I’ve heard he’s interested, but as I’ve said I can’t ask him myself until he’s released.”

She bit into the salsa-coated chip.

“Are you going to ask him right after Twilight changes him back?” Fowler conveniently asked.

“In front of all those cameras? I dunno.” She shrugged. “It’d look awfully bad if he said no.”

“You could ask him once we ditch the media.”

“Wait just a minute,” Joe the vice-president said. “Are you saying you’ll actually be there, at the entrance to Tartarus, when he’s released?”

“That’s the current plan,” Reubens said. “We’ll be there too, by the way, if you consider that proof enough.”

Meg waved around a chip. “And yes, that is what I’m saying. I’ll be standing next to the orchid pegasus with a cutie mark of two intersecting rings.” She looked at Andrew. “On international television.”

It was so good to see him thrown off balance by that.

“Standing on two feet?” he finally asked.

She gave him a big smile. “I’m certainly not getting down on my hands and knees and make a fool out of myself on international television.”

“How… how is that possible?” Joe asked.

“Maybe I did not accompany you on your visit to Twilight’s castle, and that pegasus wasn’t me?”

Elaine curiously considered her, but said nothing. The others uneasily looked back and forth from one to the other, wondering what was really going on.

Andrew was regaining his balance. “Or you’ll have a changeling impersonate you?”

Reubens leaned forward. “Should you have evidence of that, Mr. Malley, the President would be quite interested in seeing it. It would be deeply troubling if Meg was conspiring with Chrysalis’ hive.”

He should get an Oscar for that performance. Meg leaned forward herself to give her own prepared answer to that accusation. “Fortunately for me, I have never encountered Chrysalis’ hive, much less conspired with them.” It was so convenient that the cartoon had implied there was but one hive, and all changelings belonged to it. “I’d probably just wind up in a pod anyway if I tried—you know, so that one of their infiltrators could take my place.”

If infiltrators were even a thing—but why let facts get in the way of a good narrative?

To give him credit, Andrew was smart enough to know when to change the subject. “Naturally we’d be happy to cooperate with the Secret Service. Anything else we should be aware of?”