Accidental Sunshine (9) (Patreon)

Grey-17 stayed at the party a long time—as late as she dared, so late that Time Turner had to pull her aside and apologize for needing to go.

"I know you haven't had a chance to see your friends in a long time," he said, once they were back out in the cool Ponyville air. "But I have to be up in the morning to make sure the clock tower keeps marking time. If I don't do that..." He shook his head once, eyes downcast. "Well, no love for a genius in his time, isn't that what ponies say?"

Grey-17 stared blankly back, trying to assemble those words into meaning in her mind. Ponies used the same language as other creatures, but many of the concepts that seemed to mean so much to them were... confusing.

"We have to leave," she said, with one last, longing glance into the party. "Because you have... obligations tomorrow. The princess will punish you if you fail."

He laughed nervously. There was no one else to hear it—the streets were all quiet, except for the music still coming from inside. That music called her back still, tempting her to the world she'd just left behind. "I wouldn't go that far. The princesses care about the important work of keeping time across Equestria, but... that doesn't mean they're directly involved in every piece of infrastructure."

He urged her forward, and she followed, setting a brisk pace through Ponyville's quiet streets.

Quiet, but undefended. Grey-17 couldn't help but search for the most important things. When she was out in the open, that meant checking every potential route of attack. Were there guards swooping in from overhead? Maybe another of those huge airships would come down, ready to lock her away in a metal box.

But she only saw stars in the sky above, along with the amber glow of streetlights along the lane. Each one pulsed and glowed, faintly brighter and then dimmer again as though the whole city had its own little heartbeat.

"How often do we go to... parties?" she asked, when they were past many of the largest houses, and onto the dirt road leading to the clock tower. "Are there a lot?"

He slowed to match pace with her, watching her face. Strange feelings swirled within that pony, more of those flavors that she had never known among the swarm. No bug ever felt such guilt for something they had done, because they always did exactly what it took to survive.

And only one had ever cared enough about Grey-17 to ask what she wanted. "I don't think it's the party you liked, Ditzy Do. It's spending time with your friends. You're remembering things... listening to the same music, eating the same foods. Albeit less than I would've liked. We may need to speak with the doctor about your waning appetite."

"No!" she exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly. "I'm not hungry! It kinda feels like the opposite. If I tried to eat anything else, I would explode!"

He sighed, then turned back to the trail. "If you say so. But we'll watch your weight to be sure, see if a pattern emerges. If you start losing, I'm taking you back to Ponyville General."

They reached the tower a few minutes later. He opened the door for her, then waved her towards the stairs. "I'll see you for breakfast tomorrow, Ditzy. But if I don't wake up in time, feel free to make something. I may need... to recover after the morning bell, after such a late night. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself today."

"I'm glad you came with me!" she said, beaming. "I hope I get to see my... friends... again soon! A whole night and there wasn't even one fight..."

She hurried up the steps, humming some of the tunes she had heard to herself as she went. She felt a little confusion from the stallion as he watched her, but it didn't last. Exhaustion overpowered him, making it difficult for him to stay awake.

But that was typical for ponies, and other prey. They needed to spend so much time asleep, laying around doing not very much of anything. Now she knew they had whole rooms for the purpose, with special furniture and everything!

Grey-17 took the steps instead of climbing. No matter how much love she had gathered during the party today, she still wasn't sure about her ability to fly with the feathered wings. She needed more practice doing that, preferably somewhere that ponies wouldn't see her. If she got hurt badly enough, she would need to change back to heal, and that would get awkward.

She finally reached the top, and even used the lock thing over the door. She had seen other ponies use them now, when they wanted a container to stay closed. It would keep the door from swinging the other way until she was ready.

But Grey-17 had little to fear from accidental discovery, not when her housemate had no wings and she would sense him coming up the steps for several minutes before he got close. She was safe up here around the gears and cogs and ticking things, at least if she didn't mind the noise.

The noise was nice, almost as much as the many voices of other bugs might be. The others in her nest would usually be saying many of the same things anyway—complaining about how hungry they were, wondering what the queen would do to feed them next.

Now, she felt the opposite: so much food that it made her sluggish and lethargic. She stretched onto the soft bed-thing, feeling more love in her chest than she had ever seen in one place before. This much could probably feed her entire generation for a week.

I am the best hunter who ever lived.

She drifted off for a while, thinking about the Queen's face, and what her name would be when she returned to the swarm. "Richharvest" could work, or maybe "Full Bellies." It had to be shorter than "The bug who saved everyone all by herself."

It was still dark outside when she woke again. Even without the swarm to urge her into motion, without thousands more miles to fly or a judgmental bug to nip at her and knock her out of a slumbering cell, Grey-17 could only stay unconscious for so long.

Motion stirred in her again, along with the lethargy weighing down every limb. She had too much love, enough that she might have trouble controlling her transformations.

She spent some time picking out another old jar to use to hold all the love, then extracting as much as she could. Every second of regurgitation was torture, fighting instincts she had built over her brief life with the swarm.

She was a worthless bug, from a generation that the queen had already counted lost. If she got any meal at all, it might be the last one for a long time. She could go months with the love in her belly.

If another party happens and I already have that much, I'll be sick.

Her Queen could carry enough food for the whole swarm. But Grey-17 was no queen, she wasn't even a drone.

It was a little easier to change back this time. She had more of Ditzy's things to look at, pictures spread out on every shelf and surface that wasn't occupied with the tower's mechanisms.

This time there was no Time Turner climbing the steps to hurry her to action, she could go as slow as she needed.

Then she was done with all of it. Ponyville remained dark, its windows cold and only the little amber lights still lit. No ponies moved on those streets, and even the noise of thoughts and emotions quieted to a low murmur.

Now what do I do?

Grey-17 could lay on her bed and pretend to sleep, like she'd done in the hospital with those doctor ponies watching her. But there was no one to watch her up here. No bug would know if she didn't keep up a perfect disguise.

She started by dumping out the rest of Ditzy Do's things, spreading out the various books, papers, and notes onto the floor so she could see as many of them at a time as possible.

These were writing, with meaning hidden in the combination and ordering of the symbols. Some had pictures too, like one made of a softer yellow paper with little lines. Somepony had drawn things into the margins. They were pictures of ponies, places, patterns of clouds—most were meaningless to Grey-17.

You made them, Ditzy. What kind of pony were you? She knew only one thing: that this pony had been so beloved by those around her that they showered her with affection and asked for nothing in return. Every creature she met wanted to know how to help, or make her more comfortable.

Now she claimed not to even remember them, let alone do any useful work for the hive. Instead of casting her out into the desert, Time Turner found her somewhere comfortable to make a nest for herself, and brought her food in the morning.

Grey-17 had felt inadequate before. She felt it every time she'd ever practiced hunting, every time one of the bugs with important names quizzed her on the skills of survival. She might be the worst bug who had ever lived long enough to hunt for herself.

Thinking about Ditzy Do brought a whole different kind of pain. This pony would have been even worse at hunting than she was. But without even trying, she earned far more love than any bug had ever seen.

Grey-17 brought her jars with her out onto the balcony, and stared out at Ponyville, still asleep. She could look like her, she could visit her friends, and she could try to copy the things she had once done. But no matter how hard she worked, she would never be the real thing. If these ponies knew the truth about her, they wouldn't want to give her all that love. How could any bug deserve so much?

She had learned a lot about this new hunting ground, and gathered more than her fair share of love along the way. Maybe it was time to go home?

Before she could fly off, something startled her in the building below—a pony waking up, feeling the slow intoxication of sleep. That changed gradually to worry as he got closer—worry for her.

Grey-17 realized something else in that instant, no less potent a lesson than any of her time hunting. She could escape right then, she could fly away and probably make it back to the swarm with a story that would earn her a name. But if she did, she would make another creature feel... pain.

She almost felt it right there, imagining what Time Turner would do when he found the window open, and the tower empty. He wouldn't know what she was, and she could never tell him. So he'd think that the pony he loved had run away, probably to get herself hurt. He might even put himself in danger trying to save someone who didn't need help.

I don't want him to get hurt.

Grey-17 walked back inside, hid her secret jars under her mattress, then opened her door again.

Ponies didn't eat love, so giving it back would not help them. But maybe she could give something else back instead, until Time Turner wasn't sad for her anymore. Then, when he realized that Ditzy Do was healthy again and didn't need to be saved, she could say goodbye without hurting him.

And in the meantime, she could just keep storing all the extra love away, to bring back when she finally made her return to the swarm. It wasn't like any of the bugs there would miss her. Except for Thorax, they all probably thought she had died on the trip.

One day, she would make them care. But that could come after.

She found Time Turner at the base of the stairs. He wasn't trying to climb, instead dragging himself along a treadmill-thing, pulling some huge heavy block of metal around and around a track.

"Time Turner?"

"You're up?" He blinked, turning weakly towards her. "I thought... it's not even dawn yet."

She ignored the question, approaching him. "Need help? That looks really heavy."

"That might be... pretty good. If you think you're up for it."

"Sure! It's my head that hurts, not my legs. Just show me what to do."