Accidental Sunshine (13)

Grey-17 did not find out where she could acquire bits that day, or indeed the next several. When Time Turner tried to explain the subject, she found it so incredibly complex as to very quickly lose track of what he was trying to explain. There were things called “jobs,” a little like the roles assigned according to rank and age in the hive. They rewarded little pieces of metal with different numbers on them, just as drones with more or less dangerous roles received more food as a result. 

She couldn't argue the reality of the system, because it obviously did exist, and Time Turner feared it as much as a bug might fear a pack of patrolling predators just outside the hive. But he would not even acknowledge the possibility that she could do one herself, even after admitting that it would help him with the mortgage, and protect his home from dragon attack.

Grey-17 had some other things to think about over the next several days, anyway. There were more visits with her friends, lessons with the hidden secrets of words and reading, and even a few hours when no one was watching to practice flying with feathery wings.

Living with ponies had some challenges. Mostly, it meant finding excuses to avoid meals, showing up a little late. If that didn't work, she could always take smaller bites, and move her food around so it looked like somepony had eaten more. The ponies didn't actually pay very close attention, so long as it looked like she was eating their awful food.

Without more major functions, there were no new overflowing supplies of love to create jar after jar of the stuff in her bedroom. Even so, the simple presence of ponies in her life and their beliefs about her nature meant that her supply of food was always increasing, rather than the other way around.

It contradicted every hunting strategy she had ever learned—she never hurt them, never locked them up, and didn't change disguises to avoid being caught.

After her second week, she dared think something so uncomfortable that she instantly recoiled when it entered her mind. Maybe the reason bugs are always hungry is that we forgot how to hunt good.

They taught her how to fight, how to trap, and how to trick. Being a pony didn't need those things at all, really. But if she'd been able to read, things would have gone much better.

Occasionally she went out with Time Turner into Ponyville, to visit the doctor or go out to see their friends. He was always happy to be around her, yet always radiated that same sense of guilt, along with fear over the upcoming dragon attack.

Grey-17 could understand that, she would be afraid if the dragons were going to come hunting for her too. Few creatures could be as possessive of shiny metal. It was her third week before she finally resolved to do something about it.

Time Turner always tried to convince her to do something else. "Maybe you could sign up for a few more hours of physical therapy each day. I know Ponyville General has the openings."

But those visits were always a waste of time; she wasn't hurt, and pretending otherwise only got harder with each trip.

Besides, she could even read simple sentences now, and recognize lots of basic words. She had learned the names to many of the places in Ponyville, and could find them most of the time if she had to.

She had to help Time Turner, before the dragons ran out of patience and finally decided to fly out to the workshop and burn it all down.

Lucky for her, Ditzy Doo had other friends who were more willing to give her advice, one of which was even sympathetic to her desire to get out and work for herself.

Ditzy had known a lot of unicorns, apparently, and one of those was Vinyl, who played such loud and interesting music. Whenever she had nothing else to do, Grey-17 would walk by the house she shared with Octavia, and listen for the sound coming from within. If she could feel the vibrations through her hooves, she would wait for an interruption in the music long enough to knock on the door.

Vinyl was confused at first, but when she explained that she wanted to listen to her practice, well... suddenly she became much more excited.

But she didn't just practice with her strange magical instruments; sometimes they talked. It was late one afternoon where she finally dared ask the question that had been boiling in her stomach like the acid of not enough love.

"I want to help Time Turner, he's helping me so much. But I don't know how to get a... job. How do ponies convince each other to give them bits?"

Vinyl laughed at her description, patting her heavily on the shoulder. "Depends on the town. Ponyville's small and simple, so we have simple solutions. There's a board up in city hall, the one that says 'For Hire.' Ponies put up notices about what kind of work they want done, and you go find them and apply."

She nodded eagerly, rising from Vinyl's couch. Octavia wasn't there, off at that same regular rehearsal that Lyra attended three times a week. The Gala was obviously a very important night, considering how much time all the ponies devoted to preparing for it. "I guess I'll go do that now. I've been waiting long enough."

"Hold up." Vinyl stopped in front of her, holding one hoof to the side. "Do you even know what you want to do? I doubt there are any local meteorology positions hiring. You would need to find those in Cloudsdale, then work on assignment like you did last time. Are you trying to get your old job back?"

Her old job; either the design or the prediction of weather, depending on which pony was talking about it. Either way, Grey-17 couldn't even pronounce the words in Ditzy's old books on the subject, much less tell what they meant. If she tried to walk into a job like that, they'd know she was a bug for sure!

She shook her head weakly. "Probably not. My memory hasn't come back about any of that stuff. But there has to be something I could do! I'll just look for which one has the biggest number and pick that one!"

Vinyl laughed nervously, nudging her back into the seat. "See, that's what I was afraid of. Not every job is created equal, Ditzy. That's why some of them pay so well—they have to convince ponies to be willing to work. Jobs that pay more usually mean that the work is harder, or maybe less safe. Maybe you need more skills."

She gestured at the equipment arranged on her side of the room. "I make a lot of bits when I DJ a nice venue. One night's work, and I might walk home with a few months' worth. But those bits have to go a long way, until the next time I get hired. And the pony who brings me, they expect me to have all my own gear, to have my music already picked out and probably to try a few new things. You couldn't do that job."

Ditzy nodded her agreement, ears folding flat in shame. There were probably a lot of things she couldn't do, maybe even most of them! Ponies knew so much more than she did, they had so many rules that they all somehow agreed to without anypony mentioning them. If she wasn't copying, she would already be caught for sure.

"So how do I..." She looked up again, nervous. "How do I know what I can do? Will there be special jobs for ponies who don't remember things?"

"Probably not." Vinyl turned away, pacing back and forth in her living room. After a few seconds, she lowered her glasses over her eyes with a sudden, decisive gesture. "I'm guessing you don't want Time Turner to help with this?"

She stood up, nodding hastily. "He always tells me not to. He doesn't think I can do it. I don't wanna ask his permission. I'll just bring the bits home, and help. He can't tell me I'm wrong if I already did it!"

"Right. Well if you think you're up to it... we could go down there together. I can tell you if any of them sound good."

"Would you?" She grinned, excitement returning almost as quickly as her fear. "I know you're supposed to be practicing. If it's too hard, I could maybe find somepony else."

"Nope, I've made up my mind!" She wrapped one foreleg around Ditzy's shoulder in a brief but familiar hug. Ponies did that kind of thing a lot. Usually they only offered a few sips of love. Even so, those small amounts added to a great sum over time. "That doesn't mean we'll find anything you like. Might have to come back every few weeks and see if there are any new options. But right now..."

She let go, looking Ditzy up and down. "Yeah, I see it. You're going stir-crazy in that tower. Ponies can't sit around and wait for life to happen to them. Everything we want is out there, waiting for us to take it. Who's gonna hunt for it, if not us?" She levitated the door open, and the two set off.

Grey-17 thought about those words the entire trip over, silent. Everything they wanted was out there. But what did she even want? She had more food than a bug could ever eat, she had a stable hunting ground without violence or creatures trying to find her. But if all the food in the world made her happy, she wouldn't be outside trying to do more.

She must not want the glory of the swarm either, or she would've already flown home by then. Her jars of love were enough to secure a name for herself, even if she wasn't also revealing the location of an incredible new hunting ground. With that, she would probably earn the praise of the Queen herself. She would have a place in court, with her choice of hunting assignments and bugs all looking to her to teach them.

But each night after the ponies went to sleep, she looked out her balcony and decided to stay in Ponyville. She hadn't dug her jars out from under the bed in a long time—why bother, if she never seriously considered leaving?

City Hall was a building she knew by sight, but never entered. There were lots of papers inside, along with two of the only guards in Ponyville. They wore metal armor and carried spears. Granted, they didn't patrol very much, or even look like they had sharpened those spears in a long time. Mostly they stood by the doors, chatting about life with the ponies who passed and occasionally giving directions.

They didn't even look at Grey-17 as she hurried past, much less chase after her to finally end her intrusion into Equestrian territory.

They found the board, with a sparse collection of little cards on its surface covered with writing in many styles. Some were easy to read, others so small that she would have to fly up to their level and squint to be sure.

Vinyl walked right up to the board, lifting up her sunglasses and reading over what it contained in a few intense seconds.

Grey-17 said nothing, sitting pensively a short distance away while the other pony read. Having her help would make the task much easier in at least one other way: it would probably take her hours to read all those words on her own, and she still wouldn't know what half of them meant.

She would've felt better about waiting if Vinyl herself didn't go from hopeful to nervous as she read, her fear getting a little stronger with each passing second.

Finally she grinned, removing the pin from one card and floating it towards her. "What about this one, Ditzy?"

She leaned forward, focusing on the title. Even with large letters, it took a second of sounding out in her head to decipher the meaning. "What is a... deliverymare?"