On the observation of evil and the escapism of oneiromancy

Looking for a newcomer from «home video»,

Don't suddenly recognize your niece.

Anecdote

— Ahhh! A strong horseshoe to eat this! — I remember, it's just uncomfortable for me to say it, — Belkin said. A pair of dots above the horseshoe-shaped letters meant «strong vowel» or «horseshoe of long wear», that is, a long vowel sound. Four horseshoes in different directions and the sound «O» or rather «Ow» in the form of a crossed circle. It looked like a sideways «F». Belkin sighed. The pony alphabet, with sufficient practicality and logic, struck with the twists of the horse's consciousness. So you made the letters, now draw the words! Belkin sighed. The pony alphabet, with sufficient practicality and logic, struck with the twists of the horse's consciousness. Well, you've made the letters, now draw the words! Fuck it! Inside the «horseshoe» you need to stuff squiggles, then it will be a syllable, and even with its historical name. If the syllable consists of one vowel, then draw a circle inside! Long vowels were inserted into unimaginable places where human instincts refused to pronounce them in a chant. All syllables were soft, rare hardness was provided by a vertical line behind the syllable or, rather, by the letter form. The «inverted» pronunciation was achieved by an arched «yoke» above the syllable. Some syllables could not be read with a consonant and were used for phonetic writing of a foreign language. Then it occurred to Valentin in a bad squirrel dog head to ask about individual consonants. It turns out that they were just written down before the letter form, but the resulting alien horror also had separate historical names and meanings. And among unicorns, the too frequent or too rare use of such syllables in the message carried another secret meaning. — It's good that I'm an earth pony, — Sandy laughed when Belkin said the same thing with horror in his eyes. «Are they sure there's no Korean comatose here?» — The alien thought. There was an elusive resemblance to terrestrial cultures, and this was not explained by everyday physics, which required similar solutions in similar conditions. — Sandy, I am well aware that it is in my best interests to learn... your speech as soon as possible, — Belkin sighed, — But let's stop, eh? The head is already wooden! — She's always been like that! — Pony snorted with her tongue hanging out. The toadstool mocked the guest when he said «language» instead of «speech». Actually, she showed him her tongue, and so much so, as if she was licking something off. «With a tongue», so to speak... Have you been having fun for all the years of self-control and politeness? Already at tea, Belkin asked the pony about the names. Yes, for some reason the names were given in a language very similar to English. And if stalliongrad was called «deadly» for its disgusting compatibility with the requirements for recording magical practices, up to the inability to cast an ordinary spell if you read these «runes», then the language of names was the «language of lies». It was called exactly like that. Some kind of superstition that a name given in the Indian manner should be pronounced in an incomprehensible dialect, where there are more exceptions than rules. Like, protection from evil spirits. Additional names could be generally with lost meanings. The same «Diana» and «Vilora» were not translated into Equestrian in any way. «Why did they brand English like that? — Belkin thought. — Language as a language. Well, with the frills». The squirrel dog was shocked only by all sorts of hieroglyphic things with a mandatory tonality, although this is a matter of habit and time spent, and any language «with letters» was perceived calmly. — Sandy... Here's the deal... Did I mention that I'm a scout? — Are you a spy? — Pony giggled. — The scout. I do not know what exactly I am looking for. The spy knows. — And what are you looking for? — I'm telling you, I don't know! It's just... what should I do? I can't leave your house, except maybe once. And run without looking back. — Why look at yourself on the run? — Don't turn yourself back. So as not to run slowly. Otherwise they'll catch up. — Who? — Pony frowned. — Earth ponies with pitchforks and axes, pegasus with nets and guns, unicorns with... horns, — The stranger explained, wagging his tail nervously. It was getting better. And the ears have a similar story. — But you can just tell me what you're looking for. — Dear Sandy, will you tell the unicorn from the Guard what you are looking for? — Belkin singled out both «you» with intonation. — No, — Pony shook her head. — They'll drag me to prison! Or whatever! And the princesses will wipe my memory if they find out! — Did you find dangerous things? — No, no, I never... It's just, — Sandy sighed and looked at Belkin from under her bangs, — What I find is evidence of the alicorns mistakes. — Are the gods right? — The gods forget that they are not gods yet, — Sandy said softly and in one breath, lowering her ears and closing her eyes. Was afraid of yourself own seditious courage. — Then I have only one option: to leave the city, shout to my people and disappear. I'll reappear with the boxes. Weapons, water, food, clothes. First aid supplies. And an explosive device. I pick it all up, put it on myself and run in a randomly selected direction until they drive me like an animal. — And then? You're not going to be... like those Changelings, are you? — Sandy's eyes would have been envied by Cat from «Shrek». — I'll try to get by. I'll take my time and try to disappear again. — And the device... to detonate... why? — Pony did not see in Belkin some local analogue of a bearded fanatic with a black flag, or someone else equally interesting. — Sometimes they don't hear me. They can't take it away. Then you have to kill yourself. I've already tried, but it's bad with a knife. Either you won't have time to die, or... It's bad, in short. You cough all day afterwards, it's hard to breathe, as if the blood inside has dried up. Smart pony Light Sand guessed with which knife she was cutting bread for toast for the Keepers. Don't let the Sky be Bright, dream of this! The Night Watch will take you by the rump and drag you to Her Highness Luna Equestria. To be punished. Or worse, one princess will inform the other of an unprecedented insult (desecration, Sandy, and nothing else!) the third. I'm sorry, fourth! Sandy realized that she had also misjudged Her Highness Mi Amore Cadenza. — Belkin! I am! With this knife! Bread! And they! — Pony screamed and clapped her hand over her mouth in fright. — This is not the right knife. Identical, but not the same. He's in the desert somewhere. As mentioned, Sandy was a smart pony. And she guessed that the squirrel dog, dying here, finds himself in his own world. But how can you kill yourself with some kind of animal cruelty?.. There was something about that knife of evil magic before the Age of Strife. A cheap crystal bulb lit by flies, giving bad light instead of the soft «fiery» glow of soot filaments in glass bubbles without air. The teeth of the blade are felt through the thin wool on the neck. Press down harder and pull away. And that's it. And you will not have to remember the alien in the innermost place of yourself, you will not have to understand what was done to you, how hope was taken away, all faith in good reason... All warm and bright feelings seemed to go into an unclean hole in a prison cell. And the world was this prison. And the world and now this prison, it just so happened that you temporarily changed your regime. You can glue moldy walls with homemade wallpaper from old magazines. You can wonder at the sky without seeing the bars. But the nasty smelly hole will remain. And the mold is already climbing through the paper. And those who make mistakes in speech at the festival will easily be packed up to murderers and rapists «by a tragic and inexplicable mistake». And the guards will laugh, not realizing that they will not be able to go outside either. Never. And a squirrel dog in a ridiculous jumpsuit... like a plumber trying to do at least something so that the prison would be flooded with sewage a little later, and not tomorrow. A terrible creature not of this world. Not running screaming in terror. Not rushing to exhort. Who did his dirty work quickly and carefully enough so as not to get his paws dirty. The dirty sand did not bother him, the respectable public. He's in his shoes. Indifferently killed. Indifferently saved. I didn't ask for anything in return. It's just a random phenomenon. And how many ponies have not met such a Belkin? — Don't go away, — Sandy said affirmatively, faintly and somewhere to the side, only to break into a scream a second later. — Don't go away, Belkin! Don't go away!!! She was shaking. «A ferocious pony», — Thought Valentine, looking into the eyes of a horse-like creature. There were no pleadings, much less prayers in this cry. There was a long overdue and simmering anger at one's own despair. At the world. — Sandy... they'll bring me back from here. Sooner or later. — I know, — Pony said. — But you don't have to run. We'll figure something out. We will definitely come up with something. So as not to run. They'll get used to seeing you. Just a diamond dog. He wasn't born like that. He went to Equestria. This is understandable and pleasant for ponies to think about. There are a lot of... not like that... you'll be watching. And disappear when called. And come. — Thanks. But it can be dangerous for you, — Belkin wanted to stroke the pony, but something stopped, the movement never took shape. — They will look for who is here next to the stranger. Won't the neighbors tell you? Sandy snorted. «They're already going to be fined!» — The neighbors will tell you. But the Guards will wrinkle their faces, that's all. Equestria... there are few stallions. The herd is difficult, they need to think about everyone. Twisted fools walk with bulging eyes, there is endless scabies under the tail. Who is with the griffin, who is with the minotaur. A small dragon would have the height if they were with a lizard... Or they throw themselves at each other. The squirrel dog alien looked at Sandy in disbelief. He asked: — Sandy... So you will be rinsed at the bazaar for a year. And the girlfriends will run away. — They won't run... away. You need to be for running... Valentine sighed. But it was a worthwhile idea. The opportunity to roam around the city, or even go somewhere, would be useful. We would get used to it. They stopped paying attention. And disappear as much as you want. Naturalization, motherfucker. The language was spoiling everything, and not the one Sandy was showing. — Sandy, — Valentin caught himself thinking that he was repeating pony name for the umpteenth time, — And what did you say about the magician? — A unicorn can speak with magic. Dangerous. It was like that. — Mental disorders? Does the brain stop controlling the body? — I don't know. The griffin's name was Godric Pfeil. He wanted to settle in Equestria. He talked funny. The princesses said he should have an Equestrian speech. A spell was suggested. It's all good. The newspapers praised the princesses. Here! Even a griffin! — And then? — Belkin didn't like the story. — I was looking for him. The era of small fiefs was interesting to me. The cuirasses of the Guard are not ponies invented. Someone before. I found. Godric has gone to Tall Tail. The Smoky Cottage... Smoky Mountains. There. I found it, — Pony's lips trembled. — He shot himself in the head. Drank a magic potion from mice first, so that the smell was different from the body, and... — Did you tell the Guards? The Night Watch? Pony shook her head violently. — I... burned down the house. I found the diary and took it away. Then I hid it... — Don't show it! — Belkin interrupted. — So tell me. — He's there... reported that the spell damages the head. Makes you feel like a pony. And you're not a pony. And being around a pony is not wanting to be a pony. Madness can come. And he somehow found out that he was tricked into thinking differently. And I couldn't live like that. The nominal weapon was loaded with it. And that's it. See? He's digging spells. He's digging the ground. And they found both... both... — So-o-o... Is magic falling away? — Not really. There is also a spell. Long. Turns hearing into memory and repetition into a skill. You can almost read a unicorn's mind. And you can recognize the speech. It's just hard to talk. And the head. — No brains, — The squirrel dog joked darkly. But it was an option. Especially if you want to go somewhere and don't want to get kicked in the face there. Otherwise, they will laugh right in front of you and agree on how to deftly split the head of a strange stranger, and you just smile and spread your hands. Fuck him! Moreover, ponies have historically faced bipeds in a fight, with the same minotaurs, for example, and someone has skills, but people somehow did not fight with mini-horses. We need to try this high-speed training. Moreover, as Sandy mentioned, Russian is not in high esteem here. Whatever it's called. Belkin stood up. — The kettle? — Yes. You do it. The alien wanted to pour yesterday's tea leaves with tap water and pour them into the toilet (some kind of kindergarten, bitch, «push» is all in flowers, it's good that it's not from the inside), but the pony growled and disposed of the waste from yesterday's ceremonies in the flower beds. Does that make her flowers grow better? Let her plant aloe. The local equivalent. The lighter worked properly this time. Or just a two-legged fool has learned to wait for the crystal to glow from the wire soldered inside, instead of poking it unheated and stinking the whole kitchen with hydrocarbons and their decomposition products. He turned up the wicks so that the flame ended a little before reaching the bottom of the kettle. And there was almost no soot. In general, the furniture is a bit toylike, as if the contents of a dollhouse have been enlarged almost to the size of normal furniture. By the way, Sandy, standing on her hind legs (the pony could even walk like that, though not for long), was a little taller than Belkin. The shoulder line is lower, and the crown is a centimeter or two higher. And the «arms» are longer. By the way, now it's clear why ponies have relatively high ceilings in their houses. Some activities may require not only sitting, especially on a chair, to release the forelimbs, but also rearing up. It seems that there was a stepladder in the pony's pantry, which hints. So, the ceilings here are of normal height. Like in a bathhouse. You stretch arm up and you can take off the crushed insects. Without a pony stepladder. The kettle was filled not to the top, but so, the middle by half. It's time to have a snack, to be honest, and Valentin nodded at the refrigerator: — May I? — It is necessary! — Sandy replied, pouring tea leaves into her jug. In addition to the «stalliongrad» itself, progress was noted in all kinds of rude foreign jokes, obscenity and elements of rudeness. Valentin could only throw up her hands, not understanding where it would come from. Carte blanche for looting the kitchen was given, and Belkin decided to slap a underomelet with vegetables. Cast-iron pans required a noticeable wait before they began to pretend that they were non-stick. Instead of milk, he mixed sour cream with spices. Pony had drunk milk from a funny bottle with a wide neck and a stopper on an iron bracket in the morning. The body of the squirrel dog tolerated whole milk in a volume of no more than half a glass, as it turned out in the morning, then suspicions of a riot in the intestines began, so the said squirrel dog was not very upset. She drank and drank. Did all the chop-chop, put an egg on his hands. Or paws, do not understand how it is now. It was necessary to wipe. «Suede» wool on the back of the brushes tried to fall off some strips. The roasted mess has arranged a chip wooden shovel (Sandy, where are you looking?) and, in order not to wash the plates, just put a pan on the table across the cutting board. — Why the plug hole? — Valentin showed a flat «inhuman» fork with a handle, in which a hole was made, as in a stand. Tactical fork, cho. Unless it's a spoon with a hole. — Fyr shyYls. — Sandy explained, stuffing her mouth with a hot dish. — Sy shey yen’t aroy. Yeah, the loop on the hoof is put on so that they don't drop it. As some pony here drop it from their mouths on the table. From greedy haste. — You're eating, take your time. I was thinking, — Valentin frowned, — Can you take me to this unicorn tomorrow? Is there one here? At the same time, you can show me to the city. Well, Light Sand has a harmless fool of an incomprehensible kind. Does it happen? Someone has some kind of relationship with a dragon, but here it's just a defective one, kicked out by diamond dogs. — You're defecative! — The pony stood up to extinguish the burner under the whistling kettle. She brewed it herself. «In a sense, she's right, — The squirrel dog decided. — I've been shitting myself out of nowhere».

***

Dash survived the night inversion normally. Suddenly you catch your breath and start to fall. The air in the flight feathers whistles subtly. Sometimes, too, the wing begins to shake incomprehensibly. She had been taught that this could happen in places poor in magic and in high-speed descent from a great height. Magic is «licked off» from the wing and the usual air flow around the feathers remains. Which no one has studied, except for these abstruse geeks with long thin wings. At the height, the nature of magic is different, it is, as unicorns say, more ethereal. And there, these freaks, who look like ocean birds, and not like normal pegasus, often face the fact that the speed must be high, and the wing begins to tremble. There's some kind of Fluttershy happening there, according to them. She also can't fly compared to Dash. She was getting on the Highway. If the height had been higher, she would have had to slide off the slope of a suitable dune and pray to Celestia not to tumble. The sand could be loose. At night, however, she should have turned to the Moon, but Rainbow Dash, as the embodiment of Loyalty, recognized only one princess. She was just afraid of the second one. The Tract hit the hoofs hard. She also dropped her parachute. Picked it up, swearing at this worthless rag. By the way, according to the brightening sky in the east, Dash is almost there. Now wait until dawn and start the search. Pegasus decided that if she found a scoundrel spoiling magic, he would be in trouble without Elements! She fortified herself with a sandwich made from the results of Pinkie's baking occupations, greens ground into porridge with salt and vinegar and — hush! — dried gum from the meat of some marine inhabitant. She washed it down with water from a cunning flask made of a brass-covered, polished inside knee of real Nippon bamboo. The flask kept the water cold. Or warm. The best thing for pegasus, practicing long flights. Dash thought she needed just such a thing. True, with long flights it could have turned out like with a cart, but after all, it has already flown away!

***

The next blow fell late in the morning. The sun was scorching mercilessly. And suddenly it turned ashen. An invisible light was eating into the brain through the closed eyes. It was as if something immaterial had been torn from his body. Or as if you're trying to catch your own severed limbs with stumps, tumbling in the air. A black ray, not visible, but felt by the subconscious, struck the sky, wrapped space itself around itself. The cutting snowflakes of crystal time passed through the body, cutting not the flesh, but the desire to live. Rarity screamed, sparkling with festive fireworks. She fell on her side, clogged up. Twilight twisted in the jump. Staggering, Applejack groped blindly for the fallen princess and shoved her under the iron. Twilight hung dead in her hooves. Magic just poured from her like a rainbow waterfall, turning gray and becoming something… Another magic. The magic of those who left. Their current magic. And there is no place on earth where a sorcerer would not be buried. «If it lasts long enough, Twi will die», — Applejack thought. — Then she became completely ill. Stomach cramps and smelly sourness in the mouth. Pinkie Pie was shouting something, but she couldn't make it out anymore. In her head only... «Iak-Sakakh! Iak-Sakakh!» and some minotaur dung about the Gate and the Key. It's gone. Twilight gasped convulsively, like a fish gasping for air. She tries to «swallow» dry air that does not get into her lungs. Because first you need to exhale, and not cram in excess gas. Fluttershy, uselessly swinging her wings, hobbled to the cart, rose heavily on her hind legs, climbing inside, and relaxed, whipped Twilight with a hoof plane on her stomach, immediately pulling the princess by her front legs towards herself, forcing her to sit down. Twilight twitched, exhaling noisily, swallowed air again, but now she breathed less often and exhaled, albeit incorrectly, with her chest, not with her stomach. Fluttershy turned to Applejack. She recoiled, closing her eyes. Pegasus's gaze simply killed, paralyzed breathing and knocked the heart out of rhythm. From the corner of Fluttershy's eye, a pink drop, matching the color of her mane, ran and dripped. It was as if a vessel had burst, and blood of a modified composition mixed with a tear. — They're here, — Flatty whispered. Her wings hung in rags. — Who? — The earth pony didn't understand anything. — I do not know who they are. They cannot be suppressed with a Glance. They don't even have an animal mindset. There are only anti-thoughts in the anti-mind. — They tried to open the gate. The fifth lock has been removed, — Pinkie Pie added. Her mane has inexplicably straightened, her eyes are closed, as if she trusts only her inner gaze. That rare moment when the pink pony is so not funny that no bouncing and singing does not help. — What kind of lock is this? — Applejack asked, approaching the moaning Rarity. She was probably gnawing on the sand from the waterfall of pain that gushed out of her through the horn. She probably hurt her teeth. — I don't know. I only found out that the fifth lock has been removed. Now all hope is in the Gate itself. That they won't be seen. — Who won't see the fucking hay?! — Applejack shouted. Rarity moaned and kicked her legs up. — They are. The ones that came before everyone. The opposite of the magic that gives life itself. Reflection. I heard about them back at the Stone Farm. Well, if you find a green stone that is red and covered in unknown icons, then you must immediately break it with a hammer, otherwise all the crystals will turn black. And read these icons are not. — And how to read them if they are unknown? — Applejack stood aside, letting Fluttershy pass to Rarity, and she thought that the evil mushroom powders in the barrel with cider, after all, were and did their job. The pink giggler had thoroughly penetrated the attic. — I don't know. Legends of earth ponies, — Pinkie came over and handed Fluttershy a flask. — Thanks, Pinkie, but she'd like something sweeter right now, — Sighed pegasus, — And stronger. — Just a second, fellady and gentlecolts,— Apple Jack said with a mirthless grin. She climbed into the cart, squeezing past Twilight, who was rolling her eyes dazedly. She rummaged around and took out her flask. A special flask. Flat, not made of metal, but of glass. In a leather case (sorry, piggy!) with an additional braid. — I don't know about «sweeter», but «stronger» is how it should be. It's even burning, — Applejack handed the flask to Fluttershy. — And let our princess have a sip. And if she wants to write to another princess about it, then I'll honestly say that someone underage was drinking with everyone here... — Why is she underage? — Rarity breathed out hoarsely. She was already sitting on her rump and for some reason stuck her nose in her armpit. Did you check if the scent of sweat had interrupted the perfume? — How old is she as an alicorn? — Applejack chuckled again.

***

They were moving slowly now. Twilight lay back in the newly-forged wagon, feeling that although the metal reflected the sun's rays, the interior of the iron tent on wheels turned into an oven for baking cupcakes. Pony cupcakes, tear you apart Discord! Rarity came to her senses and even conjured up some coolness with some strange spell of rapid evaporation of water from a soaked rag left over from her sewing experiments. She tried to tell funny stories. But it didn't work out very well. The pink pony's mane curled back, but her eyes betrayed her experience. Not a tragedy, not a danger to life. No, it was some kind of sudden acquaintance with unimaginable rubbish, with the material denial of anything, with the perversion of the properties of the world. What exactly Pinkie saw, Applejack had no idea and did not want to imagine. And she couldn't, to be honest. Fluttershy took off. She fluttered back and forth like a sick bird. She's back. After catching her breath, she reported: — Smoke. Green. Far away.

***

Rainbow Dash was flying low. Not feeling myself. If Belkin had seen her, he would have joked about the air defense breakthrough at low altitudes. Dash diligently entered the turns without losing speed, breathing often, but according to the system. And she was flying. For some reason, I forgot to put on my flight goggles, although there might have been something like miniature dust tornadoes near the surface. Then pegasus saw the cart. She screamed, beat her wings, as if trying to float through the air in the style of the minotaurs, and fell. She jumped up and rushed to her friends. And collapsed again. — Dashie? — Fluttershy hurried to help. Obviously something has happened. — Dash, are you hurt? — The yellow pegasus tried to lift the blue one. The brave and cool Rainbow Dash burst into tears. There was something wrong with her eyes. Some kind of inflammation. Vessels are swollen, the sclera is in dense transparent mucus (like thickened tears), it is unclear where the iris begins. — They've come, — Dash cried in a cracked voice. — Please, let's get out of here! We need to tell the princess... Please... let's go. Let's go! Please!!! The horn rang. Rarity got out of the cart heavily. — Get her inside... I'll go like this. — What are you doing to her? Isn't it dangerous? — Fluttershy was worried. — They put little foals to sleep with this when they're brawling in the evening, — Rarity magically hung Dash's body in the air, but she couldn't lift it completely, her feet touched the sand. — I don't know anything weaker or more harmless. — What? — Twilight also looked out. — Nothing. Work as a babysitter, Your Highness. Dash is going to have nightmares right now, — Applejack sighed. — I think we can make her forget what she's been through, if anything. — I think we've already talked about this, sugar, — The earth pony scowled. — And about insulting the Crowned Person by action, too. And it seemed to me that you understood everything. — No, well, what if she asks for it herself... — That's when she asks. And now we need to know what we're up against.

***

It's an idiotic idea. Sandy put on a kind of harness with a leash attached to it. The other end of the leash was fastened to the waistband of the jumpsuit. My jumpsuit. I was charged with obediently following the pony, sometimes waving my arms at ponka's imperceptible nod and making something similar to the speech of diamond dogs. At first, this mare actually wanted to take me naked and in a collar, but I said that the sudden acquisition of intelligence by the animal would be viewed suspiciously. And so it is clear that the creature in work clothes was hired not by itself, but through an intermediary (simply sold), reasonable enough for a mine or something else, but stupid and without magic. Sandy, after thinking about it, agreed. So, I go after the pony, hang out at the rare shop windows and get scared of the train whistles. Sandy swears, pulls the leash with her paw, calls on the heads of those who sold it to her, the spirits of winter and calls some kind of Ahuizotl. «Ah-h-h-huizotl!» — I repeat, once again imagining the pharmacy window, where, among the hot water bottles and rubber pears, there is a penis made of the same material. By the way, was he sculpted from nature? I immediately show a pantomime about the creation process. And what, there is a skill in «Crocodile». No, this is not the «crocodile» that you are friends with, young legless Cheburashkas. Sandy turns purple through his fur. — Belkin! — Oh? Ver ist das hiir? — I also pretend to fasten my fly. — Meine kleine hose east kaput! Nakh... Sandy is already growling Equestrian obscenity. It pulls. Okay, let's go. — Uh-uh! Kazaina! Little by little bit pay! — I learned a few phrases purely phonetically. — What other bits do you need, the fruit of magical experiments? Why do you need them, you fool? — Sandy almost screams, and I understand one out of five words. At best. — My (I know the word) Ahuizotl (I wave at the window) buy (I know in two forms and disfigured by a closely related relationship) go! Uh... Shaitan... Sandy grunts and covers his eyes with a hoof. She's swearing again. Some kind of unnatural coloring unicorn in a jacket or something similar, but like almost everything here, with a bare ass, runs away into the building of either the town hall or the mayor's office. — Uh... run like that! Take many, many bits! — For what? What bits? What makes you think that? She shouldn't have done that. And I warned her that she should shame herself with me, not me with her. I warned her right before I left. I show it by forcefully squeezing the index finger of one paw through the ring of thumb and index finger of the other. Nearby, a pony with a haircut is cursing in amazement and bending over, choking with laughter. The town is small, but by the time we arrived, there was already a small flock of ponies behind us. Sandy unhooks his end of the leash and gives it to me. She looks hard at the ponies. — Whoever scares or drives away an animal will fix the sewer himself. And there may be manure up to the nostrils in the basement... and where it is higher. Ponies step back. In eyes of horses, there is a determination not to let me escape, so that, let Celestia forbid, we ourselves do not twist the shitty cable in the pipe. I long for a grenade. I don't like crowds. And I remember running in training. «You were killed, Sterch. Or paralyzed and going to disembowel. No, this is not a turn of speech!» «Sterch, we are the city working out where you will be heard? No! Forest! A deep forest! No one will hear anything! Then what more pity? Kill if there is a chance!» «Weapons and ammunition! Before you search a corpse, make a check if you have any doubt. Usually with a knife for the jaw». «Do not stop, do not take a stranger without an emergency! Do not contact anyone! If they catch you, you go after something that isn’t very smart and wait for the moment to kill yourself. Remember, here we will remove your carcass, but the brain of torture — no!» «I'll be back soon, Belkin, calm down» — my «mistress» whispers faintly. We decided to leave the gun at home. It's too early to be so bright. Something about the spy's craft is not encouraging at all. To let yourself be killed for the sake of the interests of the Motherland? But after all, the Motherland is important because it gives you that environment, as much as it succeeds, so that you do not have to make such a choice. And if no one is ready to die, then what kind of Homeland can we talk about? Then, dear ones, you do not have your own state, you are not representatives of your people. You don't have any people at all. And no one will stand up for you. I don't know about ponies, but for people, the existence of a country and a nation depends on brute force. Or from the means and will to arrange an apocalypse. I don't want to be a spy there, at home. It's disgusting and scary. But now I'm involved. I am glad that there is a fake death here. The main thing is that the four-legged ones do not figure out that they need to catch me alive. I will run and fight until they catch up and kill me. I'll understand that they sent professionals after my soul — I'll end up with at least a piece of glass. I can. They taught me.

***

Sandy came out, muttered that the traveling entertainer fair was over, and pulled Belkin inside. He has a look... She saw it once (okay, she stole it!) photos of the destroyed Stalliongrad monuments that have been postponed for destruction. The stone ponies had a similar look. And then, in the Badlands. Too. Belkin followed Sandy down the hall. The smell of the hospital. Pony is a nurse in a dressing down that does not cover the croup. Hmmm... On a human or at least an anthropomorphic girl, it would look erotic or defiant. But on a pony, it's funny. Although the concept goes. Door. Doctor. Unicorn. Says something that doctors usually say. Sandy answers, but hesitates. «Doctor, I see horses everywhere instead of people! And I'm reflected in the mirror like a squirrel!» And to a mental hospital. With suspicion of a «squirrel». Which is fucking reflected. — Miss Sand, you didn't bring him for an examination, did you? — We agreed... — Couldn't you have done it at night? Why right now? — Legalization. He suggested it himself. So that everyone gets used to him as funny and harmless. — Is he harmless? — It doesn't have sharp claws or long fangs, it's not too strong, although it's discordantly hardy. It is fragile in structure. Probably harmless. — Then why do You say it with such doubt? — Do you remember what I said, — Sandy lowered her voice and looked back at the door, — About two Changelings? They're his. Without any pity. — Hmm... does he... even know how to talk? Or is it only imitating speech? — Stalliongrad. Not the best language considering some events. — Okay. Explain to him how this will happen. Here's a Discord! Do you have any idea why this spell is dangerous? Because the unicorn that casts him puts a terrible load on his mind! You’re supposed to be associating with someone else! — Doctor, I've already told you. Medical instruments, devices, directions for finding non-magical medicines. Anything. And the patents will have your name on them. — Are you sure you can dig it all up? — Almost, — Sandy chuckled. — If everything is as you say with this spell, you will believe me. «What a cowardly croup!» — Thought Sandy. It's terribly dangerous for him, the horned mule! And Belkin, then, everything is hren po derevne! But there is no other way out.

***

It started out as that funny high-speed reading program. The projection of words on the screen with great speed. And then you realize that the speed was low. And these are just words, not a hypertext jumble of words, sounds, pictures, smells... Sandy did well to teach me how to read in the local language. By now I would be lying around from "buffer overflow". Or I would arrange a farewell pioneer bonfire with baking skulls instead of potatoes. By the way, there are potatoes here, they look like peanuts. My head wasn't thinking straight. And the inscriptions in Russian began to appear in the air. Emergency escape of the capsule. I feel bad.

***

— Sandy, can you take me home? I'd like to lie in your backyard... — Belkin! — It took Sandy a moment to realize that the squirrel dog had said it in Equestrian, carefully squeezing unusual combinations of sounds out of his parched throat. She hurriedly said goodbye to the doctor, whose name, by the way, was Chip Resepi. Isn't that why he's sitting here, because in the same Canterlot, his horny colleagues didn't understand the practice of prescribing cheap analogues to expensive treatment? Well, from a medical point of view, of course. They reached Sandy's house, and then Belkin suddenly rushed around the house, turned around and said that someone had lost some kind of seed. Light Sand was a smart pony and, having dug up a new skull, decided to take the old one to the wasteland behind the coal warehouses.

***

— Who did you bring to me?! Do you... do you have any idea what's in his head? — Throwing spiders from a Nightmare Night, lapping up cider and singing obscene songs? — That's putting it mildly! He didn't tell you who he was, did he? — Well... a cross between a manticore, a diamond dog, and a squirrel from the Canterlot Palace Garden? — Sandy smiled. Actually, sitting in the doctor's office and drinking tea was a good idea, but not at night. Moreover, herbal alcohol tincture was added to the tea. — Do you know how he sees himself? — Chip Resepi hissed. — As if someone had made a pony out of a monkey! From a monkey, not from the wild six-legged ancestor of draconicus! Are you sure he didn't fall from some stars? — Don't repeat nonsense after zebras, doctor, — Sandy looked at Chip wearily. — Even if it is an otherworldly creature, what will it do alone, and even without magic? — Do you know what his Special Talent is? — The doctor shuddered, even all the doctor's stuff rattled in the glazed white cabinet. — Build deadly traps for pests? To work as an overseer in hard labor? — Sandy tilted her head to the side. — Well, surprise me! — He writes scripts. Only this is not for holidays, but to maintain the working mode of thinking machines! Thinking machines! — So what? Or is it a typical unicorn horror story? The uprising of steam locomotives! Boo-boo-boo! Choo-choo-choo! Tartar locomotive jumps off the tracks and moves to Canterlot! The bodies of the tree wolves crushed by him are burning in the furnace! Ponies are screaming from the barred windows of the trailers! — You don't understand... A civilization that builds thinking machines, ships with engines based on the decay of matter and is able to sort out hereditary information... I... I have to inform the Princesses! — Doctor... That's why you need to tell someone something? Especially for Princesses. — They will also send Guardians of the Elements. Won't they come by themselves to catch an incomprehensible non-magical creature with dislocated brains in deserts and forests? No, it will be the Guardians. And they will start rummaging through the dirty sheets of the whole Dodge City. They can't do hay or dick, but they'll start. With fiction and fun! Do you want to check what the Elements will come up with to do to you? — But... — The Element of Truth. It will turn any event inside out. And to misinterpret the reason that a skilled unicorn medic is leaving the capital... — I don't think... — Chip's Resepi face hardened. — The Element of Loyalty. She will surely beat off your insides or break something. Do you want to piss blood? And then, when Celestia demands a report, this episode will be presented as the capture of a dangerous criminal! Not a criminal? Oh, the mistake came out! But everyone is alive, and everything ended well? And you, doctor, will treat yourself for the rest of your life. All five and a half years. And no one will be responsible for your death. Because the Elements! — I... — There will be no «I». There will only be an order from the Element of Kindness. Including the order to stipulate yourself if you live to see the trial! Is that enough? — Finish it already! — There was a note of hysteria in the unicorn's voice. — You haven't wasted your Generosity and Laughter yet! — A performance. A highly approved comic action about a half-educated doctor with a pack of pills on his ass. To make everyone laugh. And so that no one would think of being interested in real events. For example, why a skilled unicorn is forced to use a strange and «outdated» spell to teach the language. Plus another grandiose binge that no one wants to remember because of shame. And everyone will be ashamed of what they did to you. As a result of a Laugh, not even a bad idea, but a criminal one. — I don't believe you... you... — What's left, doctor? Generosity? — Sandy was smiling, but there were angry tears in her eyes. — Are you familiar with the term «contract killing»? This is unless you are persuaded to erase some memories for the benefit of the whole Equestria for a large, very generous sum. And then there will be Magic. And a drooling janitor who, out of pity or in the form of sophisticated bullying, will be taken to a Friendship School. The court of revenge. With a broom. Without magic. Without your magic! — How can you do that, Light Sand? How can you do that?! You were a good pony! — The ruler acts statistically, — Sandy sighed, still crying. — No alicorn princess is able to make happiness all at once. And two can't. And two and a half, like now. To everyone and no offense. And the life of one pony is almost nothing compared to the lives of many ponies. Many, doctor! Moreover, no one will count the lives of bandit griffins or religious fanatics of yaks. And that's right. They also count us only before the sale. But that's where the evil lies, doctor. A ruler may get used to exchanging the lives of his subjects for the total amount of happiness and goodness for the entire state. To forget for thousands of years that the state does not exist without the peoples inhabiting it. And the people are composed — what a surprise! — one of those simple ponies. Which they sacrifice. — But the princess... Just like that, with immeasurable hypocrisy... — Doctor, what do you know about Stalliongrad? Don't answer, though. I can't hear it anymore. So, I'm an archaeologist. Good or bad, but learned. And I saw something. I dug it up. Stalliongrad, of course, was not Happy Meadows, but it was not Tartarus either. It was a stronghold on Tartarus way to Equestria. And a refuge in case of emergency. And the shelters are unlikely to have barrels of cider, serpentine and other Grand Galloping Galas with cakes. But there will be relatively clean water, disgusting food for everyone, medicines and ugly rubber masks, like those used on farms when spraying what is not customary to inform foals of tender age. And Celestia destroyed this citadel with the help of meanness. She promised an alliance with those ponies, and she betrayed them. And she dared to believe that this was a «military ruse». And the ponies saw that other ponies can be treated like the last piece of manure, and the reason is not important. If only there was an opportunity to hide everything or intimidate everyone. Or buy it. And Tartarus is already coming. — But if your alien came to destroy Equestria? — I don't think so. He is too fixated on the bad reaction of society towards himself. He avoids unnecessary communication, but does not seek to destroy society. It's more convenient when the bread shop is open, there is where to trim the mane and where to go to the performance in the evening. Not overgrown ashes. And also, — Sandy sighed, — He just doesn't give a shit about other ponies business. Do whatever you want, just don't touch me. — But then... why did he kill the shifters? — So they don't kill him. — But how could he know that they would try to do such a thing?! — Somehow he could... but I didn't know! Chip Resepi sighed and poured Sandy some more tincture into his tea.

***

— Belkin, how are you? Belkin squinted. He nodded gratefully when they gave him a drink of water. He grimaced, pinching the cotton wool at the puncture site with his elbow. Someone was already dragging pajama-like hospital clothes. — Help me get out. And give me the paper. And what to write... faster, before I forget. — What do you have there? — You won't believe it. The textbook of the horse language. However, something tells me that you already know the alphabet.