Chapter Four: Good Times, Bad Times

"Think you've seen it all? Think again. Outside those doors, we might see anything. We could find new worlds, terrifying monsters, impossible things. And if you come with me... nothing will ever be the same again!"

There are many benefits to running.

First of all, running is said to be incredibly healthy; and, given my Time Lord expertise, I can assure you that it is. Running involves many of your muscles that are normally unused by the body. Your blood circulation is affected positively as well.

Moreover, running is undoubtfully useful. When you find yourself in a difficult situation, it is always better to run away. At least, that's what I'm used to doing. Just run - and your problems vanish behind you, unable to catch up.

Last but not least, running enhances your thought process. When you're running, your brain is running as well. It is running through all the ideas you've been dumping there, all the thoughts and issues that you've needed to think over. Your mind is cleaner, purer, it's unspoilt by routine: you are running, and your mind is focused on what is really important, delivering you the answers to all questions.

However, there is one serious drawback to running: eventually, you get tired. That was exactly what happened to me after a few kilometres of running across the desert-like surroundings. I could barely lift my legs as I crawled forward, closely followed by a not-so-exhausted Kira and a not-a-single-damn-giving Turner. I wished that there were some nice ambient music, at least, to soothe my soreness; but my radio was as good as dead. Well, it was dead, in a way.

On the other hoof, the day seemed to be coming to an end, and, maybe, it was for the better. The lack of music, I mean. That ambience they tend to broadcast on the radio usually gets creepy during evening and late-night broadcasts.

The worst thing, however, was the sand. The sand in my mane, my tail, my fur... The never-ending, never-ceasing, ever-present sand. All around me. Eww. I sighed and grumbled, letting Kira pass by as she swished her tail against my flank. At any other time, it could be rather sexy; at that exact moment, though, it only made the tiny, minute shard-like grains of sand bite deeper into my skin.

"Didn't think you were so short on stamina," Kira chuckled, trotting cheerfully, her saddlebags covering her flanks from both sides, preventing me from observing her cutie mark, a detail I had failed to see previously. (I really hoped it wasn't a penis, especially given her... erm, excitable attitude. And, well, her attraction to, um, penises.) Well, technically speaking, her cutie marks; 'cause we have two of those, you know. Wait, saddlebags? Where'd she got them from?

"First, it's short of stamina," I corrected her with the usual Time Lord righteousness. "And second, I'm good at short runs." That was the truth: I couldn't run a hundred kilometres without stopping to catch a breath, of course, but when it came down to running from a bunch of angry cyberponies... Boy, my running performance was spectacular!

"Well, you won't give me a 'short run', for some reason," the cyan mare mumbled, levitating a green pear out of her bag and munching on it. I scrunched my face, trying to avert my eyes from the feast. Pears. I hate pears. They are an evil abomination that can easily throw a Time Lord into an abyss of misery and despair.

"Where have you got those bags from?" I wondered, disregarding both Kira's remark and her pear-eating offence. "I never saw you take those."

The unicorn shrugged and tapped her horn with a hoof, still levitating the half-consumed fruit. If pears could be called "fruit", that is. "First, I'm a unicorn: I levitated those when we left." She took another juicy bite that made me flinch involuntary. "And second, it's 'gotten'," she concluded in a somewhat lecturing tone.

I slowly felt my blood boiling, my breathing quickening, and my nostrils flaring with extreme irritation. Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I put on a fake smile, suppressing a glare. "I'm British," I explained. "We don't use that word." Brevity. The soul of wit or something. Also helps to hide your disapproval when you're hissing each word through your teeth.

"What's 'British' mean?" Kira blinked dumbly, chewing on her pear. Oh, dammit. Of course she couldn't know! I mean, not everyone is a Time Lord with the ability to travel to planet Earth, among other peculiar places. Still, the cat was out of the bag, or whatever they say, so I decided to brief her briefly (Ha!) on the subject.

"It's some kind of national affiliation," I said, wondering if she knew the word "affiliation". "I'm not really a pony, you see; I'm not even from this planet. I'm a Time Lord," I struck a heroic pose, awaiting excited gasps, murmurs or maybe even fainting. None of which followed. "A time-travelling species?" I chuckled sheepishly at Kira's blank stare.

Kira blinked.

"An alien?" I supplied without dropping the weak smile.

Kira blinked again. I cast a troubled gaze towards Turner, but my pegasus companion paid no heed to our verbal exchange, simply trotting ahead. My legs wobbled, reminding me about my sheer exhaustion. As if I could ever forget about it. Seemed like Turner didn't give a damn. As usual, though. I wondered if he ever listened to what I said. Or recognised my humble existence in any way.

"Great, now I'm travelling in the company of a rock and a madpony," the cyan mare mumbled to herself with a deep sigh. Ouch. Well, at least I wasn't a "rock"! Though, being a "madpony" didn't seem like a pleasant perspective either...

Slowly walking along the path of cracked asphalt, I tried to take in the grim surroundings that seemed to have become my new home, for the time being. Not quite as cosy as my TARDIS, I had to admit, but still quite peaceful. Nothing disrupting the lonely road in the middle of the desert, with sturdy sands and pale cacti growing all around. Nothing.

Except for a ruined two-storey building in the middle of the desert. "What the..." I began, rubbing my eyes. "What the hell is a building doing in the middle of nowhere?!" I exclaimed, slightly perturbed by the sight, and moreso perturbed by my companions' lack of reaction.

"Standing," Kira replied smugly, following the path that now led us right past the strange building. Oh, look who's being a smartarse here! Thanks, the Harbinger of the Obvious.

"Who would ever build a damn house in the middle of the desert?" I soliloquised idly, coming to a stop just left of the entrance, which was a rust-bitten metal door, hanging there by sheer willpower, it seemed.

"Ironclad Industries," Turner replied suddenly, stopping next to me. I jumped up in surprise a little, I won't lie. "It was common to build factories in secluded places, lest their secrets be found."

So... A factory, was it? The radio on my back didn't seem so dead anymore. "So, this Ironclad Industries company," I began, glancing at Turner, whose eyes were fixed on the building. "What do they do?"

"Were doing," Kira corrected me, standing next to me as well. "They were producing weapons during the war." I glanced at Turner for confirmation, but it seemed that my pegasus companion had already broken his limit of spoken words for the day.

All right. So, this building used to be a weapon-producing factory. What did it mean for yours faithfully? Metal. Lots and lots of metal. And cords. And, possibly, electricity. You get the idea? Batteries. Spare batteries for my radio. The Box of Many Wonders could come to life again, with a little help from a skilful Time Lord!

"Can we go inside?" I asked Turner, gazing longingly at the potential source of energy for my wonderful jingle-jangle-jingling device. "I think I may find some spare parts for the radio." I tapped the radio on my back for good measure.

"Why won't you come inside me, I wonder," Kira grumbled, glaring at me. "I think you may find it much more interesting." Damn, why was I travelling with a sex fiend again? To pay Turner back and get to the Lucky 56, I reminded myself. Anything and everything to get to meet Mr New Pegas.

"But yeah, Turner, let's take a peek," the cyan mare said, smiling at the pegasus. "May as well find some valuable loot there." Great! At least the sex fiend was on my side!

"We don't want to get sidetracked," Turner said with a frown. When I say, "with a frown", I mean, "with a deeper frown than usual".

"Well, I want to get sidetracked!" I exclaimed, on the verge of whining. (Whining: another useful skill that every Time Lord should have at their disposal.) "Come on, Turner, it'll only take half an hour!"

"I can't waste half an hour," my pegasus companion said grimly. "You two go ahead, if you want." Again, his not-giving-a-damn attitude. It actually started to irritate me, really.

"But how will we catch up with you?" I wondered. I didn't want to be left in the wasteland without protection, that's for sure! ...Speaking about protection, I didn't want to be left alone with Kira for long either. If you don't get how it is connected to protection, then you really do have a pure and unspoilt mind. Keep it that way.

"There's, like, only one road here." Kira nudged me slightly. "Come on, fatty, let's go scavenging!" With that, she ran off towards the door and vanished behind it.

"Hey! I'm no 'fatty'!" I exclaimed and ran, trying to catch up with her, noticing Turner turn round and start walking away along the cobbled path.

***

"Hmm, I thought it would be bigger," I mused idly as I inspected the spacious, yet single, room that met us with its grim darkness. But for the tiny specks of light rushing into the factory through the holes in the ceiling, the place would be pitch-black. I was honestly surprised by how empty it was. No conveyor belts, no factory equipment, nothing even slightly resembling anything that could be used for producing weaponry. Just a few broken tables, a ruined chair, and a few footlockers here and there. It seemed more like an office building, if anything.

"That's what she said!" Kira snickered, covering her muzzle with a hoof. Har har. How funny. You, ma'am, are witty. "Anyway, that's just because we haven't reached the second floor yet."

The second... floor? Oh. Of course. Two-storey building must mean there's a second floor somewhere. "I don't see any steps," I said, observing the almost-empty room once more.

Kira huffed and pointed her hoof at the dark corner, where - you guessed it - there was a nice set of steps that I had somehow failed to notice. Hey, my eyesight isn't perfect! Don't believe a word of those who claim otherwise. Even if it's me.

"Well, I'm used to open spaces, you know," I mumbled, directing my hooves towards the steps. Maybe that second floor held something valuable. Like batteries.

"You told me you lived in a box," the cyan mare countered, following me slowly as she checked the footlockers to see if any of them were open. None were, from what I could see.

"It's bigger on the inside," I retorted, regretting exchanging information with that devil of a mare. She'd just make fun of me, anyway. Not like she actually believed me.

"You are bigger on the inside," she said, poking my tummy... erm... muscle. Yes, muscle. "Fatty," she added with a grin. That didn't even make sense!

I resolved not to reply, instead opting for stepping on the cold stone staircase. It was rather dirty, so it took some effort to manoeuvre between the slime and mud. How did that even end up here? I thought with a hint of disapproval at the maintenance department of the building. If it still existed, that is.

"Though, don't worry." Kira grinned slyly, swishing her tail against my flank. "I like my stallions big." She winked. Oh Celestia. I thought my apparent 'madness' was a decent reason for her not to seek intimacy with me! Oh well.

The second floor met us with a somewhat more elaborate decor: apart from the tables and footlockers similar to the ones I could observe on the first floor - or, ground floor; but I doubt that such a building ever had a ground floor - there were also a few cupboards and what seemed to me a wardrobe. What was a wardrobe doing there? Hell if I know. But anyway. I winced at the bland grey-ness of the interior, wishing there were at least a few colourful posters on the gloomy walls.

Kira immediately started checking the footlockers and the cupboards, which, to her delight - and a squeal that pierced my ears sharply - were unlocked. What piqued my interest, however, was a table - actually, more of a desk - the corner of the room, on which a green-screened device was resting. Having no desire no listen to Kira's grunts when she opened an empty footlocker and her debilitating shrieks when she did find some rubbish, I drifted towards the desk, noticing a peculiar metal pod next to it. Since it was lidded with a matte sheet of glass, I couldn't possibly guess what was inside. Either some unnecessary rubbish or...

...Or something useful. Like spare batteries. Knocking my hoof against the lid and receiving no reply, I sighed and looked at the green, dimly-lit screen. Judging by the keyboard, it was a simple model of some kind of computer, without the Full-HD and all the sweet stuff we have on Gallopfrey. Oh well. Maybe it had internet connection, at least?

I stood before the desk - why would they not place a chair in front of it eluded me - and poked at one of the keys. Seemed like ponies round here didn't mind wasting energy, for the device was already on. Not logged on, though. The screen erupted with a tiny flash and offered me to enter the password. Dammit, always with those passwords.

I sighed, blaming my sonic screwdriver for its absence, and tapped my hoof against the desk absent-mindedly. The password... Relying on Lady Luck, who generally wasn't on my side, I typed in, 'PASSWORD'. That was silly, to think about it, thinking that somepony would be dumb enough to...

Somepony was dumb enough. With a loud ding, the system let me log in. Damn. Never in my life would I have thought that somepony actually had 'password' as their password. Oh well. I still had some things to learn, it seemed.

"Wow, you hacked the terminal?!" Kira exclaimed from behind, making me turn round frantically. Dammit, didn't her father teach her not to creep ponies out like that? "You must be a computer genius!" she exclaimed in an amused tone.

I brushed my hair back. She wants to think of me as a computer genius? Let her think so. Besides, I learned that that particular type of computer was called a "terminal". The more you know! "Yeah, kinda," I said smugly.

"You know how hot that is?" she whispered into my ear, shifting closer to me. "I wanna fuck you right here, right-"

Oh dear. I backed down, pressing my back into the desk's surface. Time to break the impression. "The password was 'password'," I mumbled lamely, hoping that the truth would calm her down.

It didn't. "Well, the offer still stands~" she cooed, advancing towards me slowly, breaking my inner creepy-o-metre by all parameters.

"Maybe some other time." I evaded her approach, eliciting a grunt from the mare. "When pigs fly," I added under my breath.

Examining the screen of the terminal, I found, to my dismay, nothing but a single line reading, >OPEN THE POD. No information? No documents? Hell, no games, even? That was certainly one boring terminal. "Must be that one pod," I muttered, taking a glance at the matte glass of the cylindrical object in the corner.

"Didn't know those could connect to pods," Kira said, looking at the screen as she stood to my right, just between yours faithfully and the aforementioned pod.

"I thought you were knowledgeable about those 'terminals'," I said, pondering whether to enter the command or not.

"Yeah, but the one we have in our house just holds documentation," the mare replied with a frown.

"Wait." I glanced at Kira. "I didn't see a terminal in your house." Were they hiding it, for some reason? Secret documentation and all that jazz?

"It's in the backroom." Kira yawned, levitating a small number of bottle caps - which she, no doubt, had just found, while I was playing the role of a technical mastermind - into one of her saddlebags.

"You don't have a backroom," I retorted, my hoof dancing above the enter key. Should I open it? I mean, there could be some batteries there, or at least something I could make batteries of (or with), but I couldn't take that chance for granted...

"We do," Kira said simply as she opened one drawer after another, checking them for emptiness. "It's well-concealed." She shrugged at a pencil that she'd ejected from the top drawer.

I decided to avoid any comments from my side. Maybe I really hadn't noticed it: I mean, my eyesight isn't perfect, whatever anypony says! Also, wasn't I the one to be living in a blue box? Um... To have been living in a blue box, I mean. Damn, at that moment, I really did miss my TARDIS... Trying not to give in to sombre thoughts, I hit the enter key to open the pod.

Sheer curiosity came over me as I watched the lid move, painfully slowly, just like in those films where you have a mad scientist and a medical pod and what-not. Kira yawned and inspected a nearby dustbin, extracting a few caps from there. Eww. Those must be dirty, I mused, somewhat perturbed by her cheerfulness.

I had to avert my eyes as she took a dusty hairslide/maneslide/whatever suits your fancy (from the same bin) and placed it in her brown mane with an idiotic smile that mares tend to have when they think they've found something beautiful. "How do I look?" the cyan mare wondered in what seemed to me a sly tone, but I was delivered from answering her, for the lid finally opened, revealing a round metal object attached to the top of the pod, hose-like tubes adorning it from the bottom.

The mechanism clicked, and (without any dramatic white smoke, unfortunately) the object, which looked more and more like a robot, blinked with a red light and hovered out of the pod immediately upon turning on. "State your business," it beeped in a screechy tone.

"Fascinating!" I exclaimed, shifting closer to the robot at once. When I was in Equestria last, they had no robots! The progress must have been fast-moving, even with the nuclear apocalypse and all. I wished I had my glasses with me at the moment; not because I have poor eyesight (it's actually near-perfect), but simply because I look even more like a genius when I'm wearing those. Yes, I know: "Doctor, how can you be even more genius-like?!" Believe me: I can.

I touched the hoses, which were a unique blend of metal and rubber. "Flexible metal," I mumbled to myself, inspecting the robot. "Amazing." Damn, progress had been fast-moving indeed!

"State your business," the machine repeated monotonously, to which I paid no heed. Science first, talk later! I love science. And technology. Just saying.

"Doctor..." Kira tapped me on the shoulder, but I shrugged her off, enveloped in my research. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the mare back down a little, her eyes wide and lips trembling. Those mares... Why would she-

"State your business or be exterminated." The hose that I was holding pushed me back with formidable force, and, to my shock, I saw rotating razor blades extend from the hoses, pointed at a certain Time Lord. That is, me.

Dammit, the moment I heard the word 'exterminate', I knew I was in big trouble. As in, really big trouble. I'd had unpleasant encounters with some robot-ish beings that tend to overuse that word. And guess what? Nothing good ever came out of those "encounters". I backed down, while the robot hovered in the air in place, and turned to Kira, who seemed stuck in place.

All right. Time to turn to the greatest Time Lord battle technique. That is, running away. "Run," I whispered to Kira, my legs ready for a sprint. The cyan mare only trembled in fear.

"You haven't stated your business," the machine spoke calmly, making me gulp and freeze in place. In retrospect, I should have come up with something to talk it out of fighting, or, well, "exterminating" us. But... fear, you know? "You will be exterminated, zebra scum!" Oh great, the robot was a racist too. Kira must have a lot to talk about with it.

Speaking of Kira, she just trembled harder, as if intense tremor had taken over her whole body. The robot charged at us, and I had to act quickly: seeing as the unicorn mare had no intention of running, I dashed into her, knocking her off her hooves, just as the razor blades cut the air at the place we'd been standing a second ago.

"You can get your hooves off my butt now," Kira whispered meekly as I lay on top of her in the corner of the room. Embarrassed, I noticed that, during my successful attempt at saving her life, I'd accidentally grabbed her posterior. Such things happen, all right?!

"There's no time for stupidity!" I yelled, somewhat outraged by that mare's ability to find sexual even at a near-death state. "We need to get out!" Thankfully, Kira understood me, turning serious all of a sudden (thanks Celestia), and, thankfully again, the robot seemed to be on slow side.

It charged at us at the speed of a tortoise (turtle, whatever), but a tortoise with razor blades attached to its body. Which was a little scary. Well, maybe more than a little. The tin can's (hehe, get it?) slow reaction allowed me to grab Kira by the waist and prop her up, just as I jumped up, landing straight on my hooves. Looks amazing, right? Years of training, what can I say?

We rushed towards the staircase, evading the razor blades with remarkable efficiency, if I may say so. I chuckled to myself, gleeful at the ease with which we dealt with the hard situation. On one hoof, I didn't find any spare batteries, but on the other hoof, I didn't die! Yay!

A searing pain struck my left thigh, accompanied by a whoosh sound rushing through the air. I fell onto the floor, grunting and cursing my very existence. Another bolt of pain, lower this time. The robot couldn't have reached us so fast! I managed to turn my head, only to see one of the hoses wildly firing red beams at me and Kira, who had managed to avoid them, but was held back from reaching the stairs.

"It has fucking lasers!" Kira yelled to me, dodging another bolt. Celestia rut me till it's not funny anymore! It had lasers?! My opinion of pre-wasteland Equestrian technology lowered significantly. Who the hell would put damn lasers on a damn robot at a damn factory?!

"I've noticed!" I yelled back, grunting in pain. You know, all those books and films where the protagonist gets shot a gazillion times and trots on like it's nothing? They lie. In fact, even a smallest wound leaves you cowering in pain, not to mention two laser shots! So, I could do nothing but lie there and watch the robot shoot at Kira, shamefully thankful that those bolts weren't being directed at me.

"Then get your flank up and run!" Kira hissed, taking a leap towards my fallen lump of a body, trying to nudge me towards the exit.

"I can't!" I roared as another beam hit me on the shoulder. That's gonna leave a scar, I thought off-hoofedly, watching Kira mutter something under her breath and throw her saddlebag off her back. Which gave me a nice scenery of her flank, by the way. Erm... Her cutie mark, I mean. Which, if I squinted my eyes (bad eyesight, you know it), was... a long, oval-ish object... No. Please, no. Don't let it be a penis, Celestia. Please.

I let out a sigh of relief when Kira picked me up with her telekinesis, and I saw her cutie mark to be not a penis, but a syringe half-filled with some green liquid. Probably the Wasteland version of heroin. Or something. "Dammit, you're heavy!" she exclaimed as she magically placed (well, dropped, to be exact) me on her back. It was kinda soft. And warm, I had to admit. Very, very cosy. In fact, if it weren't for a killer robot chasing us across the room as Kira dragged her hooves towards the stairs desperately, followed by the steadfastly advancing tin can with razor blades and lasers, it would be quite peaceful.

The robot advanced slowly, halting the lasers and instead extending all its hoses, the razors almost touching Kira's fur as she limped, groaning, her legs wobbling. Calculating the possible outcome (Time Lords can stay calm even during drastic situations), I assumed that it was impossible for Kira to get out while carrying me; so, I said what I had to say. "Drop me, Kira." I smiled at the mare knowingly. "I'll deal with it somehow. Run away."

"You're an idiot," the cyan mare hissed, still crawling towards the steps that were getting closer and closer with each second. "I won't leave you here. Besides-" What she wanted to say remained a mystery to me, for her legs gave out and she collapsed on the floor with a shriek. Involuntary, I rolled over and ended up half a metre away from Kira, wincing from pain.

The robot reached us, hovering right above the cyan mare. "Dammit, stupid machine! Come at me!" I yelled in a desperate attempt to redirect the dumb tin can's potential attack. I mean, I still had a regeneration left. Sure, I didn't like to waste those, but still... The benefits of being a Time Lord!

However, it seemed that the tin can wasn't in the mood for hunting Time Lords. Instead, it pointed one of its razor-adorned hoses at the cyan mare, who could do nothing but cower in fear and exhaustion, closing her eyes instinctively. All right, now, I wouldn't mind a miracle. Please? Celestia? Luna? A miracle? A little one?

The razors were a few centimetres from Kira's neck now. I grunted and tried to stand up, but failed miserably, sharp pain from my wounds preventing any kind of action. Idly, I noticed that my flank was turning red from blood, and so was my shoulder. Dammit, Celestia, Luna, what the hell are you doing there in Canterlot?! (If they were still in Canterlot, that is. ...Were they even alive at the time?) I need a miracle! Right now!

A blur of brown and silver grey rocketed up the stairs, colliding with the robot and pushing it away from the cyan mare. Wow. Now that's what I call a miracle! An A-film-tier tension breaker! Turner (because it was him, if you still haven't guessed) placed a couple well-estimated kicks on the tin can, eliciting a weak cheer from yours faithfully. Great! Seemed like my saviour was here to save my sorry flank again and-

"Where the hell are you going?!" I yelled, watching the pegasus approach the green-screened terminal casually, even leisurely. The robot whizzled and resumed its hovering, albeit a few steps away from me. Two of its hoses were broken, but one was still rotating its oh-so-sharpy razors at a very scared and wounded Time Lord. (Read: me.)

Turner didn't reply, tapping at the keys with the fervent speed of hackers from cheap flicks, completely disregarding two ponies, one of whom was at the near-faint point. I don't mean myself, of course. The robot crept towards me slowly, ever-so-slowly. I gulped and closed my eyes. What the hell was Turner doing out there?! I mean, sure, it was for the better (somewhat) that the murderous tin can (which, by the way, had gone silent; a pleasant diversion from Daleks' never-ceasing "EX-TER-MI-NATE") chose me as its target, and not Kira, but hell, I could use some help here!

"No time to check your mail!" I shouted at the brown pegasus, trying to crawl away from the Tin Can of Assassination (remind me to trademark that one) to no avail. As usual, Turner just disregarded me. Oh well. Time to regenerate, I guess. I opened my eyes. Look straight into Death's eyes and whatever they say all the cool people do. The razors almost touched my neck. I felt the tiny rivulets of wind created by the rotation. The odour of rusty steel pierced the air. My throat went sore and the ungulped saliva froze in my mouth. My tongue was weak and sour.

They say your whole life rolls right before your eyes before you die. Well, I guess that either they lie or that Time Lords' life span is too huge for such a thing to happen. The only thing I felt at the moment was an urgent need to visit the bathroom and a silly phrase rolling around in my head, Too young to die, really, way too young to die.

The blade pressed into my neck and... stopped. I opened my eyes, looking, not without a certain amount of surprise in my gaze, at the metal sphere, ex-killer-robot, now lying at my hooves. I glanced at Turner, who now stood by the terminal, looking at me indifferently. "You... disabled it?"

"This model has remote control," the pegasus said simply. "I know a bit about terminals." If he'd adopted a smug grin, I would have labelled him classy and over-powered, but he just trotted up to us, touching Kira on the shoulder gently. "Can you move?" he asked with a faint touch of sympathy. Must be just my imagination. Turner plus sympathy equals impossible.

"Barely," the mare grunted. "I'm kinda tired. Can I just sleep here?" She yawned genuinely. "Thanks for saving us, by the way." Wait, that's all? No offering a "special" reward? Damn, Turner sure got less attention from that perverted mare! I really wasn't sure whether to be glad or offended.

"Come on, Kira, get up," Turner urged. "I need you to heal him." Him? Oh, right. Me. 'Cause I was bleeding out. Funny how the wounds began to hurt again just as I remembered about them. Psychology, what?

"Can't you heal me?" I grumbled, shifting uneasily. I could bet Kira would try something funny while tending to me. And I really didn't want it, for reasons stated somewhere above. Take me on a date first, learn to read, and then we'll see.

"I'm no expert in medicine," my pegasus twice-saviour replied, taking Kira's saddlebags in his mouth (eww) and placing them before her. "Here."

The mare nodded and, digging through some stuff that I had no name for, extracted a vial with some purple liquid. It didn't look like any alcoholic beverage I'd previously consumed, so I assumed it was some kind of medicine. With an exhausted grunt, the mare levitated the vial (lucky unicorns), crawling a couple steps closer to me. My assumption was proved as Kira poured the purple liquid onto my wounds: I could really feel them get better. I got better too, and my mood rose significantly. The pain was dull and fading. Yay, I was alive and kicking!  I started feeling happier already. Hell, I could kiss Turner right now! ...Which wouldn't be a good idea. And could lead to my immediate death. Yeah. Better avoid that.

"Now, a Med-X to keep you safe," Kira mumbled, taking out a syringe. Sweet Celestia indulging in anal pleasure! Now syringes weren't something I took to. I mean, each time I regenerate, I get some new quirk, or a few. This time, it was syringes. So... scary... and... hurtful...

"No!" I yelped, jumping to my hooves, my wounds crying out loud for my unthoughtful action. "See, I'm good! Good as-" With that, I fell down on the floor, groaning as blood started dripping from my shoulder. Huh. Seemed like the wound was still fresh.

"Lie still, you idiot," Turner chastised me sourly. "Now we have to spend two healing potions on you." He sighed and shook his head in utter disapproval. Well, at least now I knew what the purple medicine was called. But... Turner couldn't actually be that indifferent. I mean, he'd come up to save us, right? That must equal to something!

"Hey, Turner," I called out with a smile. "You do care about me."

The stallion raised his eyebrow in disbelief. Good, at least it was a nice change to the usual emotionless expression. "What gives you the impression?" he wondered finally.

"You came here to save us," I said, letting my tone become thankful. 'Cause I was thankful, you know? You usually are grateful towards whomever saved your life, especially on more than one occasion. "And you did," I added. "Thanks."

"I came here to save Kira," Turner said off-hoofedly as the cyan mare got up, her knees wobbling, and leaned against the stallion, who, to my surprise, didn't protest.

"Then you could have disabled the robot after it killed me, you know?" Dammit. Confound this Turner, he drives me to doubt.

"I saw no point in that." Turner cast an estimating glance at me. "Besides, you still owe me those caps." Oh well. Using me like there's no tomorrow. I guess some things just never change.

"Come on, Turner, is it so hard to accept that you saved us because you're kind, deep inside?" Kira whispered into the pegasus's ear, yet loud enough for me to hear. Turner's facial expression didn't change in the slightest, but I could make out a faint hint of... a blush? He was blushing, if only for a moment! Point proved! He did care!

"You're blushing!" I grinned. "I knew you cared about us." Suddenly, the world seemed a little brighter, even though we were in a dark building, and the sky outside was thickly covered with clouds.

"Shut up before I lose my temper," Turner warned me, softly guiding Kira towards the steps. "Come down to the ground floor and we'll rest a bit. She can use some sleep." I nodded, and got up gradually, not to bring myself more pain.

"Wait." Kira limped off the pegasus, walking towards me with another vial in her telekinetic field. "Here. You need this." With that, she applied the healing potion to my shoulder, much to my pleasure, and just as much to Turner's chagrin, as it seemed. Maybe this mare wasn't really as bad as I had initially assumed. Besides, she was a doctor (a real doctor, as it seemed), and her cutie mark made perfect sense now. Still, needles... *shudder*

"Thanks." I smiled at the cyan mare warmly. "You know," I called out, just as she leaned onto Turner again, making the mare turn her head towards me. "Your cutie mark."

"What about it?" Kira raised a brow, Turner stomping against the floor impatiently.

I grinned. "I'm glad it's not a penis."

***

On second thoughts, I shouldn't have said that. As we walked through the desert-like surroundings, my cheek still hurt from the impact of Kira's hoof. Still, a few hours of rest did wonders for my laser-inflicted wounds. Oh well, I guess. You win some, you lose some. Which, by the way, made me wonder if Kira's mean slap was more powerful than a killer robot's laser. Hmm... Welp, it only made sense that she got all the stallions she wanted in her hometown! (Presumably.) The fact that she was the mayor's/dictator's/whatever's daughter certainly helped as well, I suppose.

I sighed, frowning at the monotonous surroundings. Those certainly didn't qualify as something that would make a good lyrical narration. How can professional writers describe deserts? It's plainly impossible, unless you're planning on using the word "sand" at least a thousand times per chapter. "Damn, this wasteland of yours is really boring," I mumbled, trotting at Turner's right, the pegasus being the barrier between me and the offended mare. Who would have thought Kira would take offence to such an innocent observation of mine? That mare held surprises, I tell you.

"It's not boring," Turner dropped without paying me so much as a single glance. "It's what it needs to be."

Huh? Why had he got so philosophical all of a sudden? One way or another, he was actually talking, so I had to seize the opportunity. "In what way?" I wondered, adding, "All I can see is a barren desert with few ponies and settlements. A post-apocalyptic wasteland that holds nothing but a quest for survival." I shuddered, remembering how I had almost been killed by a malprogrammed robot. (If killing ponies hadn't been its programme, of course.)

"It's more than that," the pegasus rapped out, looking straight ahead. If the horizon were visible at the moment, I would have assumed he was looking at it, and beyond it, at something concealed far, far away. But it was covered with clouds. Oh well. "It's more than a quest for survival. It's a society." He held a pause, and I let the information sink in. "Since there are few inhabitants, and the civilisation has all but ceased, it is a fresh, new start for the equine race. And other races." I cast a look at Kira, who didn't even flinch. That sneaky racist mare. "We have no laws, no universal government. All we have is our morals, which are flexible. Homophobia, racism, sexism - only a small percent of the wasteland dwellers embraces those concepts. We have more freedom, and we are more moral than the ponies of the pre-war Equestria. Our morals aren't preserved or supported by the government. They are protected by us, by sheer force. We are free..." The pegasus chuckled, slowing his pace for a moment. "But we are also damned. There's no future in the Wasteland. We are, in some way, damned to be free." With that, he fell silent and resumed walking.

Hm. That certainly sounded smart, and had a nice ring to it - philosophical and sombre; but I couldn't really agree. We passed an out-of-place bus stop in the middle of the desert. Wait, I don't remember any buses in Equestria... Note to self: think about the possibility of this being a parallel universe (which I hoped it was, 'cause then my friends wouldn't have died, and so on) and refresh information about vehicles. Looking at the lonely object, I realised that it did indeed possess some unspoken beauty, like a painting of a cliff, or a lonely mountain, like a photograph of a well in the middle of the forest. Something out of place.

Speaking about places, I still didn't like the Wasteland's appeal. I would prefer homophobia, racism and what-not to being in constant danger of getting killed. But... Anarchist-like as they were (Turner didn't look like an anarchist to me, though), those thoughts held some wisdom. So, instead of arguing aloud, I mentally soliloquised to myself that I would have time to think it over later, when we get some real rest, and not just a few hours of lying on the floor of an abandoned building. Wait...

"We need to go back!" I yelled, and was damn ready to not just go, but run back at full speed! "I forgot to take out the batteries from that robot so I can fix my radio! (My trusty box of wonders. Never leaving my back, except when I fell down. Never caught any laser beams, that little radio, too!)  

Turner silently reached for his saddlebags with a hoof and took out a set of wires. "It was powered with these. You may have those, if you want, but we are sure as hell not going back." Oh well. At least that was something.

I caught the wires. "Thanks, Turner. You're great," I praised my pegasus companion, who didn't even bother to nod in appreciation. Oh well. To work something out, I would need to stop for a while and toy with the radio a little. Where were those settlements when you needed them?!

Oh. There they were. Off in the distance, I saw a few buildings placed on the sides of the road we were trotting along. Cheerful smoke was erupting from the chimneys, giving me the warmth of a thriving community. "Can we go there?" I asked Turner, who, no doubt, seemed to be the legitimate leader of our little group.

"We don't have a choice." Oh come on, what's this deal about cryptic stuff? On a second thought, it wasn't that cryptic. The only road round here (the one we were traversing) led through the settlement ahead. We really didn't have a choice.

As we came closer, the smoke seemed more black than it used to seem, and now I could make out the red of flame. (My eyesight isn't perfect, remember?) Wait... The place was burning?! An array of thoughts rushed through my head, from "My fucking Celestia, we have to help them!" to "Run, Doctor, run away before it gets ugly!"

However, it had already got ugly by the time we approached the little settlement. The five buildings that formed the whole town were burning, the flames already licking the walls, having consumed the roof; and something gave me the impression that the reason for the fire wasn't a short circuit. The town was empty, abandoned, even. Well, no wonder the inhabitants ran away at the sight of the fire! Though, they may have wanted to put it out first...

My thoughts were interrupted as something (or, presumably, somepony) collided with yours faithfully, up-front. "Hey, watch where you're going, mate!" I called out, trying to sound both friendly and slightly irritated at the same time. The green blur (that turned out to be a green pony, of the earth pony variety; didn't look like there were any pegasi down here, apart from Turner) stopped dead in his tracks, looking at me in bewilderment.

"I won!" he shrieked, making me back down. Easy, Doctor. Easy there. Looks like we found a psycho. "I won the lottery!" He muttered something under his breath, giggling madly. Okay, Doctor, it would be for the better just to let the insane pony pass by.

"What lottery?" Dammit, Doctor! Fuck me and my natural curiosity. No matter how many times I remind myself that curiosity killed the Time Lord, it's always the hope of satisfaction bringing him back that makes me ask question after question.

"The lottery!" The green stallion roared with laughter. I glanced at his flank cautiously, expecting to find something connected to chronical gambling. However, it depicted a plough, so I could only assume that the pony was some farmer turned gambler. Or something.

The stranger galloped away, past us, along the road we'd came. Kira raised a brow. Turner didn't seem amused. We walked on, past the burning buildings. Both left and right, there were... crosses. Wooden crosses, with violently abused bodies of ponies crucified, huge nails penetrating their limbs. I felt a rising urge to vomit. Kira did just so. Turner was still not amused. Damn, it seemed that the inhabitants hadn't got away. They had been murdered, and mercilessly at that. One of the victims seemed to twitch in her dying agony. Kira noticed it as well, and rushed to the cross, levitating an array of different medicines from her saddlebags.

"Don't," a masculine voice reached my ears from the left. I immediately looked up, only to see four stallions who seemed to have materialised from nowhere. It was hard to make out their colour, for all of them wore red leather barding adorned with metal plates, and skirts. No, not skirts... Those looked more like battle kilts. However, it was obvious that all of them were earth ponies, since their heads were covered with light helmets, feathers crowning the sides, and I already knew pegasi weren't common round here. "You can't help her."

"Who are you?" Kira hissed, jumping away from the group and taking a defensive stance. "Did you do that?"

One of the stallions, the one in the middle, nodded and stepped forth. "Per procurationem the mighty Caesar, we have punished the wicked ponies of this town." Damn, those were legionnaires! Of course! I remembered Mr New Pegas talking about some Caesar, and these were, presumably, his Legion. Or a part of his Legion. Despite these ponies' desire to look all Roman-like, they still failed to pronounce their ruler's name correctly. "Kay-zar"? Really? Had nopony told them that that pronunciation was a barbarised Western variant, and not the way true Romans used to speak? The correct, Byzantine way of saying that is, "Tse-zar". Not "Kay-zar". Oh well, I guess not everyone can travel between multiverses and study different cultures.

Kira growled and was ready to charge, but Turner placed his hoof on her shoulder, and the cyan mare calmed down, exhaling loudly. Wow. Turner the mare-tamer. Hehe. Sounds like a title. My cheerfulness faded somewhat in the wake of standing in front of four ruthless killers. "And why would the mighty Caesar order a whole town destroyed?" Turner widened, without any sarcasm in his voice. And dammit, he pronounced it "Kay-zar" too.

"The ponies of this town were wicked. They indulged in drug abuse, homosexuality, and laziness," the legionnaire stallion said calmly. Oh, here we go: a legion of fanatics. Just what I needed. Not.

"Oh, so it's a valid reason to fucking burn the whole town and crucify them?!" Kira shouted in anger, but none of the legionnaires seemed to pay her any heed. Which was good, because getting killed due to that mare's lack of tact wasn't among my plans for the day.

"The mighty Caesar allowed us to make a lottery, in the name of the Goddess of Luck, with the winner remaining alive so that he or she can go and spread the word of the Legion's ferocity." Oh. So that was the deal with the "lottery". "You, too, should do so." The stallion hit the metal plate on his chest with a hoof. "Ave Caesar." With that, he passed us and motioned for his comrades (subordinates?) to follow.

I really wanted to ask who he was, but then again, I was fine with not getting killed because of a stupid slip. So, I just dropped, "Vale," sombrely.

The stranger stopped for a moment, shook his head, and resumed walking. Just as the legionnaires disappeared, Kira snapped, "What the fuck was that? 'Vale'? Are you speaking their crazy language?" She growled, "Are you with them?!"

"Hey, hey, easy there!" I backed down. "That's not their language, per se. And I'm not a Roman; I'm a Time Lord!" Sheesh, that mad mare. Couldn't she understand that I just so happened to have received proper education which included Latin studies?

Kira sat down on her flank with a sigh. "Can't believe such psychos exist. That 'Kay-zar', and their bigotry, and what the hell is up with that 'Goddess of Luck'? Everypony knows there are only two goddesses - Celestia and Luna." Hmm, I'd grown accustomed to thinking of them as princesses, not goddesses... Apart from a mental prayer to Celestia from time to time, ponies didn't use to worship the Princesses back in my day.

"You know that Celestia and Luna died," Turner remarked, placing himself next to the unicorn mare. Wait. What?!

"Tia died?!" I yelled, making my pegasus companion flinch a little. "I thought she was immortal!" I can't believe it. Celestia, dead? Luna, dead? No. It can't be. It just can't be.

"That's 'Princess Celestia' for you!" Kira yelled back, making Turner flinch again as his ears were assaulted from both sides.

"Well, I knew her personally, you know?!" I shouted, partly because I was irritated with the mare, and partly because I couldn't come to terms with Celestia, the powerful and magnificent ruler, having died. And little Lulu! I admit, we had never been close, but Luna still occupied a very special place in my heart. Oh well. Everything must cease. I know, I know. It would be foolish to think that there could be true, absolute immortality.

"Shut up, both of you!" Turner growled, making me spring away in fear. Kira sprang away as well. If Turner was raising his voice, then it really was high time to shut up. "We have a five minute rest, and then go on. The sun's setting." How he'd managed to deduce that the setting was setting down was a mystery for me, given the cloud curtain and all. But I knew better than to argue with Turner, so I placed myself on my rump, letting my legs enjoy the rest.

Now, I could finally fix my radio. Taking the wires (I made a mental note to buy saddlebags as soon as I had enough money; it was no easy task carrying all the stuff on my back), I glanced at the radio. All right. This should be easy, I mused, inspecting the Box of Many Wonders. All I had to do was to connect the relay to the oscillator, and get some zinc... Where'd I find zinc round here... Well, first things first.

"Doe anypony have a screwdriver?" I asked, pondering over my next actions. First of all, I had to open the radio; and, since I didn't have my sonic screwdriver, an ordinary screwdriver would do. Kira frowned and turned away from me (that mare!), but Turner reached for his saddlebags and took out a rusty screwdriver, tossing it to me afterwards.

"Thank you." I caught the instrument and nodded. I'll save you the elaborate description of the radio-opening and wire-attaching process, so, let's just say that I opened the radio and attached the wires correctly. Now, I needed some zinc... I played with the screwdriver, tossing it from hoof to hoof. The brass handle was certainly unusual, and... Wait. Brass handle. Brass. I could feel a light bulb light up above my head.

"Turner, may I take it?" I wondered. "Like, for ever?" Please say yes please say yes please say yes-

"Yes," the brown pegasus replied. Yes! A victory for the Time Lord theme! "Also, you owe me eight more caps," he added casually. Oh come on! I wasn't going to ever get out of debt, was I?..

With a grunt, I fiddled with the radio, searching for a piece of space to put the handle in. Okay. Once again, I'll save you the details, so let's just say that I worked my Time Lord magic for a while and, finally, the magical box came to life, first hissing for a few moments, and then blaring with music!

Heartaches by the number~

Troubles by the  score~

Every day you love me less~

Each day I love you more~

I sighed in content and looked at Kira with a smile. "It's working!" I boasted, tapping the newly-fixed radio. The mare looked away, not without casting me a sombre glance. I looked at Turner, but the stallion seemed to be lost in thought, gazing at the clouds covering the sky.

I glanced at the radio. My little victory faded in the wake of the situation we found ourselves in. It seemed that the Wasteland held its surprises, and they didn't seem to be pleasant. We all had our stories, our past that haunted us; but at the same time, we had our common future ahead. What did it hold? Raiders? Killer robots? This "Legion"? The corpses of the crucified ponies swung in the wind. Soon, they would be devoured by stray birds; or worse. I could be one of those corpses, I realised. So could Kira. And Turner. Every minute, every second could be our last.

I sighed and lay down next to the radio. The upbeat song ended, replaced by a slower and calmer song. I closed my eyes and listened to music, trying to wash every single thought away from my head, if only for a moment. The radio sang, accompanied by the howling wind.

Into each life, some rain must fall~

But too much has fallen in mine~

***

Footnote:

Level up!

Skills note: Repair has reached 50%

New Perk: Mechanic - You sure do know your technology! All robots deal 20% less damage to you, and you, in return, deal 20% more damage to them. Also, all Repair skill caps are 5 points lower for you. Ain't that a package deal?