Accidental Sunshine (6) (Patreon)

Time Turner helped her get settled into her new nest. There were a few large boxes on the ground near the wall now, which he told her were “from her old cloud house,” whatever that meant. But they smelled like Ditzy Do, so she knew who they belonged to.

"I'm usually... not the best at cooking, I'll admit. But I try to keep fresh fruit in the kitchen all the time. I think there are some bits in those boxes if you'd like to buy anything. If they run out, I can... help you cover the difference. I intend to make up for this."

She tilted her head to the side, following him to the indicated box. He opened the lid, showing her a cloth bag with metal inside. "Not sure how many. Less than a thousand. You may have more with the bank, I'm not sure. We never discussed your finances before."

She nudged the bag, and of course found it uninteresting. Metal things were in there, but all the same size and shape. At least the downstairs lab had plenty of variety! Who knew what kinds of exciting things she could find downstairs? "What's 'buy'?" she asked, pushing the lid closed. "Is that something I wanted to do before?"

Time Turner's ears folded flat again, and he looked away from her. "Most ponies do. Food, clothes, tools, trips. Anything you could want. But perhaps..." He reached into the box, lifting the pouch out from inside. "There aren't many here, and there's no telling when you'll get more. Would it be alright if I held onto these for you? If you want to buy something, we could go do it together."

"Oh, okay." That was better anyway—if Time Turner was there, it meant a pony who could protect her if something happened, and make sure she had enough love to survive. "That's okay. I don't think I need anything now."

"Perhaps not." He balanced the bag on his back, before reaching out to pat her shoulder again. "I've got some things to do downstairs. But if you need anything, come and find me, alright? Just stay away from the lab if I'm not around. There are some very dangerous experiments in there, some of them could really hurt you."

"I will," she said. "I won't go in without you. Who would tell me what it was all for if you weren't around?"

He hesitated, then a faint smile formed on his lips. "I suppose nopony would. Does this mean you're interested in taking another stint in the lab? When you're feeling better, I mean."

"Maybe." She circled around the room, lingering by the balcony. "Where can I find out how to read? You put words on everything here! But I can't tell what they mean!"

"Somewhere else to begin before we think about assistant work," he said, with another long sigh. He turned to go, lingering in the doorway. "I'll see if I can find anything in the library for... adult literacy training. But most of my collection is more technical—we should probably ask the new librarian about it."

She nodded. "Sounds great! Do librarians teach ponies to read?"

He didn't answer, easing the door shut behind him. She felt his guilt and pain following him every step down the stairs, until he got to the bottom and got distracted by his work. But even in this huge burrow, they were close enough for her to feel his presence all the time. If Time Turner felt mad or afraid or suspicious, she would taste it long before he could climb back up the steps.

She waited a while by the door, in case the stallion came back. But he didn't, and eventually she could relax.

As much as any bug could without the rest of her swarm, anyway. There would be no sleeping cells here, kept warm by the bug next to her. She couldn't talk to other members of the brood and ask for their advice. Otic and Thorax were too far away to reach. 

Grey-17 had her own room at the top of a pony's tower. Plenty of space to use for her hunting activities, whatever those ended up being. All she had to do was figure out how to use her new position, and she'd save every hungry bug in the swarm.

She sat on the balcony for a very long time, watching ponies move back and forth about their lives. She smelled nothing to tell them where to go or what to do. Whatever pheromones they used to organize, they must be extremely faint, even when she copied their body perfectly.

Her mind drifted between memory and sensation. At one moment she was on the balcony, the next—she was back underground, at the end of a long line of young bugs. Each sister here wanted to go on to earn a name. There were only so many spots, only so much food to be shared—so every second was fierce competition. 

That day's drill was a test of navigation, dropping them deep into the empty parts of the burrow with cloth over their face soaked in something stinky, so they couldn't smell their way back.

"Wherever you end up, it won't be a burrow like this," Otic said. She was some distance away, at the front with the more promising bugs. But that didn't mean Grey-17 couldn't still hear her. "That means you have to adapt quickly. Learn your surroundings and master them. There are always other hunters, and they want the same food you do." She stopped in front of one bug at random, nudging their dark blue fin with one hoof. "If they're from another hive, you can expect no mercy from them. You have two choices—win or die. Now find your way to the surface. Imagine you've just been revealed, and you need to escape a group of dangerous creatures. If they catch you, you die."

As she said it, several other bugs emerged from the shadows—wearing masks over their faces and holding sharp sticks. Dried blue blood stained them, strong enough that Grey-17 could smell it through the cloth. "Surface, now. If you are not there by sunrise, you'll be cleaning shells in the nursing chamber for a week."

Of course, Grey-17 hadn't made it out by dawn. Even if she could somehow find her way around, the other bugs always took advantage of her. Even members of her own brood used her, calling her towards a promising path only to send pursuit following her instead.

The trainers caught her a lot and poked her so hard she bled. But they didn't kill her, no matter what Otic said.

She found herself in the nursery, crushing up shells to push into the trash tunnel. The fungi that grew on them would help light the burrows of the swarm, but only in the right conditions. It couldn't be left lying around the Queen's chamber.

"Here again," Thorax said, appearing from another passage. Not strange to see him there—he was a male. The Queen would always want one close, for reasons only queens and males could understand. "Almost think you like it in here. Sweeping up after the grubs is safer than hunting."

She shrugged. "Safer, maybe. But workers don't have names."

"But you have a name already. Grey-17, right? Is that one so bad?"

She nodded confidently. "It's okay. But I didn't earn it. One day I'm gonna fly out there and earn my own. And every bug in the swarm will remember it."

"Sure thing, Grey-17. I can't wait for that to happen. Be the best hunter you can be." He touched her shoulder, then left her there, feeling almost like she had just eaten something.

Of course, she hadn't—there could be no love shared between bugs. Thorax was just weird, that was all. Even weirder than she was.

"Ditzy!" Someone's voice interrupted her, loud enough that the vision of memory faded back to reality. She blinked, scanning the space around her, but the sound wasn't coming from inside. 

"Ditzy Do!" the shout came again, louder. Finally, she looked out, and down over the balcony. There were two ponies there, a green one and a creamy yellow one, stopped on the road looking up. They had visited her at the hospital, though that was all she knew. There were so many ponies here that their names and faces were still a blur. 

"You can hear us!" said the other pony. Her voice carried better than the first. "Good! Worried you went deaf in the crash!"

"Come down!" the first one yelled, gesturing. "Time Turner said you would be here! I don't wanna climb all those steps to say hi!"

These ponies were unknown to her—but she could taste their feelings. More sweetness, like Time Turner, just not as strong. But these came without all those other complex things like “guilt.”

"Sure!" Grey-17 didn't think, she just acted, flinging herself sideways over the balcony. She opened both wings, so at least that part was right. But that was about where the similarities ended. 

Her new muscles didn't respond the way they should. Instead of buzzing rapidly, she could only flap a few times, each one a powerful stroke that lifted her and changed her direction. 

She didn't fall exactly, because that would imply going in one direction. Instead, she wobbled side to side, up one second and down the next, spiraling around one building and over the heads of the two newcomers. Beyond them was a garden of flowers and plants surrounded by a low wall, and she couldn't change direction in time!

She managed to get her legs up over the wall, narrowly avoiding a painful faceplant. Instead, she slid through the garden, tearing up a few flowers and patches of grass before smacking into a shrub.

She moaned, squirming free before dropping backward onto the floor. She lay sideways there, breathing heavily. If she took any serious wounds, they would put holes in the transformation and force her to change back. But no, there was only a little dirt, and bits of plants stuck in her mane.

Hooves pounded up the path nearby, and the cream-colored mare who had been waiting downstairs reached her side. "Are you alright?" She touched her spine, then her wings. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Grey-17 moaned, covering her face with a foreleg. "Just the usual. Barely know how to fly, smacking into things. You can start laughing now."

The greenish unicorn appeared another second later, panting from the speed of her sprint. "Is she..."

"Looks good. Daisy won't be happy about tearing up her new flowers, though. She was planting those most of yesterday."

There was no laughter. The two ponies didn't even look privately to each other, suppressing humor at her expense. 

"We would've waited for you to take the stairs," said the unicorn. A wave of unseen force washed over her, brushing away much of the dirt. "Looks like you shouldn't be... flying right now."

"Guess your memory is still out?" asked the earth pony. She held out a hoof, helping Grey-17 roll back into a standing position. "Lyra and I weren't sure you would be released so soon."

She nodded. "Yeah. Hospital said there wasn't very much they could do for me." She stood up, shaking out her wings. "Apparently there's no cure for... brain damage." She tapped her forehead with her hoof, demonstratively. "I just gotta learn it all. No matter how long it takes."

Like the name of the earth pony. The unicorn was called Lyra, that much was clear. And from their concern and affection for her, they obviously knew each other. "Are we..." She struggled for the word, ears folding backward. The concept was new to her, something like “allies” but without the implications that came with it. 

"Friends?" the earth pony supplied. "Of course, Ditzy. Some of the best."