Accidental Sunshine (12)

The secret of reading was, it turned out, very hard indeed.

There was so much more to be learned than one bug could puzzle out in a few hours, even with the help of a friendly pony who believed she was actually someone she used to know. 

There were dozens of different symbols to learn, each one with a different sound. Grey-17 learned about the various noises they each made, and how those sounds could somehow be combined together into words that might be spoken.

Part of it was simple pattern recognition, and that she grasped quickly. Different sounds, combined so they matched the way ponies spoke, simple! Even if she didn't recognize a combination of symbols, she could repeat them to herself, and figure out the word.

The real trouble was just how many more words and concepts ponies had. There were hundreds of objects in their world, and maybe even more ways to talk about how ponies felt for each other. In the end, the real impossible secret of reading was that Grey-17 didn't know how being a pony worked.

Obviously she couldn't tell Lyra that, and had to instead act as convincingly as possible as though every single lesson made perfect sense to her. Even when none of them did, and every passing second only made the ruse a little weaker.

Time was strange among the ponies, measured by the regular echoing toll of the bell coming from Ditzy's own home. They didn't care so much for how far the sun was in the sky, and she smelled no commands issued by their queen. But when the bell sounded, ponies answered.

Including Lyra, who sat up abruptly after a particular set of echoing sounds, lowering the book in front of them. "Sorry Ditzy, but I think I have to pack up for now. There's a rehearsal I'm supposed to attend, for the Grand Galloping Gala. Ponyville is sending some of us for the orchestra..." She trailed off, watching her face. "Right. You probably don't remember what any of that is."

"I wish I did!" Grey-17 told her, and she meant it. "But I can tell it's important. Thank you for teaching me." She nudged the book between them. They had already moved on to the level 2 volume, the one with an orange cover instead of red. But from the complexity it concealed, it would probably be some time before she was ready to trade it in for the pink one.

"You're welcome. Let me just... help you put some of this away." She didn't just help, she did everything herself, floating in the books and sheets and helpful cards all back into the storage box. Magic was so much faster than anything she could do with her hooves. "If you want more help, I think Twilight might be able to do even better than I can. She's the librarian... I'm not sure how well you knew her before. But ponies don't read as much as she likes. She'd probably enjoy the company."

Lyra waved, then slipped out through the street, then into Ponyville proper. She didn't break into a gallop and flee, screaming for her life—she moved slow and purposeful, obviously confident in wherever she was going.

Maybe she would tell me what a mortgage is. That was a very big word—just thinking about it made part of her start thinking about symbols again, and soon her head was aching.

The smartest, most dedicated hunters could follow one target for days or even weeks, until it was safe to pounce. But Grey-17 wasn't that dedicated, or that focused. If she tried to spend all her time focused on one thing forever, it would probably make her give up.

How could she, when Ponyville had so many other amazing things? There must be thousands of ponies living here, each one looking so differently from all the others. They all had different colors, different ways of talking, and their own little groups of ponies who wanted to spend time with them. Friends.

She had already been away from Time Turner for a good portion of the day, was that long enough for him to finish with the things he wanted to do alone? She should head back and find out, just to make sure.

She found him in the workshop when she returned, doing the same sort of work he had been when she left. There were many tiny objects on little shelves—some that needed to be combined, others hit with things, and still others taken apart. Grey-17 watched near the doorway for a while, searching for the pattern in what he was doing.

But if there was some easy way to tell what a bug was supposed to do with each piece, her only hint were the big pages he kept pinned on some of the walls. Every few minutes Time Turner walked back to one, frowned at it, maybe wrote on it, then went back to work.

He obviously had reasons for all of this. This was no accidental action, or stumbling around like a new grub who hadn't yet discovered the basics of making structures from slime. Every motion felt—maybe not confident, but purposeful. This was what he wanted.

And he was looking right at her.

Exactly how he had noticed that she entered, when she worked so hard to be as quiet as possible, she couldn't say. But now the stallion was looking up at her. He lifted his goggles in that way he often did, staring back with those strangely colorful eyes.

Weak eyes, that could look in only one direction. He should've noticed her a lot sooner than he had.

She set the bag down, taking a few nervous steps into the workshop. "If you think I should leave, I could go instead."

"Just didn't notice you there, is all. I know you were always more interested in weather than machines. This all must seem pretty dull to you."

He'd already given her the correct answer, with his words. But his feelings said something completely different. There was something strangely hopeful in that question, why? If ponies wanted something, it would be much simpler just to say so.

"I just don't know why... it's so important to you."

Time Turner settled onto his haunches, looking thoughtful. "Well, it's... each of these inventions offers potential—a way to improve the lives of ponies. Each one offers a new challenge, but with incredible rewards if they can be achieved."

He took a few steps towards the largest one, a complex machine with several different gears, and an opening for something to be attached at the bottom. "This here—this will wind the clock tower each morning. Using Ponyville's electrical supply, rather than manual labor. Simple, yet—it would enable considerable freedom on its own. No regular obligation to wake at exactly the same time every day, and never to leave town without locating a trustworthy substitute. A simple device, really—it is in the redundancy and the reliability that I delay installing it."

He stepped aside, over to another machine. "This one here—it's a navigational aid for airships. Using an internal gyroscope, it would maintain a level heading no matter the storm. So long as the gas or float-crystal had sufficient lift, the vessel would be able to navigate on an even keel. It could save lives, preventing accidents like..."

He looked away from her, eyes downcast. "Let me guess. You're back for lunch? I suppose I didn't remind you to bring bits with you for the afternoon. Come to think of it, that may've been for the best. I’m not sure if we reviewed our currency since your accident. The... various denominations and such."

"Lunch? I already ate while I was out, with Lyra. Isn't it a little late to be eating?" Technically not a lie, though of course she wouldn't get specific with him. The pony's concern and investment into her teaching was more than enough to sustain her for the day, albeit not as overwhelming as the party before.

"Right. I suppose it is." He pulled something out of his vest, glanced at it, then snapped it closed just as quickly. "I best be pulling a long shift anyhow. There's so much to do, and so little time until the next funding round. I'll have to have one of these sorry projects complete before the innovation display at this year's Gala."

He could hide the truth from his face, but not the pain from underneath. She felt it instantly—this pony was hungry, and wasn't excited about spending hours more laboring in this room. Despite the lack of sweat or stink, this was obviously difficult for him. Even the most skilled hunters needed a chance to catch their breath before going out after new prey.

"I could make you something," she said. "Then you could keep working, and—"

"No!" He winced as he said it, lowering his voice a little. "I mean—no thank you, Ditzy. I've already had enough frightening encounters with the flames today. Perhaps after we can go over a kitchen safety course."

She shrugged both wings, taking a few steps towards the kitchen. "You better go eat something, then. Otherwise I'll have no choice..."

That got him moving. They slipped out of the workshop, then down the hall into the kitchen.

There was plenty of food inside, though slightly less since Grey-17's failed first attempt with cooking. She only pretended to eat anything, but she remained close to make sure that Time Turner did. Apparently he noticed that too.

"You were with Lyra? I guess you were being productive out there."

She nodded eagerly. "Going to learn how to read. Harder than I thought it would be. I checked out a... something, from the library. It has reading things inside, and Lyra showed me some of them. I figured out letters!"

"Oh! That's... great news. I'm sure you'll be back to organizing the weather over eastern Canterlot before the year is out. Goodness knows those pegasi are clueless without you."

Grey-17 didn't know what most of those things meant, so she just nodded along until he started looking at something else. That usually worked to get ponies to lose interest, so long as they thought she agreed with them.

"There was one thing I couldn't figure out," she went on. "Well, a lot of things. There are eight books in that box, and most of them are really confusing! But mostly one thing. What's a mortgage?"

Time Turner stiffened instantly in his seat, rising from his half-eaten plate. Those words alone brought fear, as though he were thinking about his own least favorite teacher, or another grueling training climb through the old burrows. "Something scary? If you don't think I'm brave enough, it's okay. You can tell me about it. I've seen lots of scary things before."

He laughed nervously. "No, no. It's… okay, perhaps it is a little intimidating to think about. It's a… document, that says I have to pay a certain number of bits each month, in order to keep living here. The… workshop, that is. I don't own the tower, that's my royal assignment. It's Equestria's. The workshop is mine, everything I ever wanted. But if I don't have enough bits, the bank will roll in and build something else. But as I said, that's nothing you should concern yourself with. My success or failure has nothing to do with your presence here. Besides—I owe you far more than those dragons down at the Canterlot Safety Society."

Suddenly his fear made perfect sense. Somehow, Time Turner owed bits to dragons. If he couldn't make them happy, the result would be as grim for him as it was for poor Ditzy Doo. Maybe they were the ones who crashed her airship?

"I want to help. Where can I find some bits?"