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                  Chapter Nine: The
                   Second Night 
                   
                 In the 
                 dark, in the locked and sealed Conversion Room, The red case sat. It 
                 too was armored, locked, and sealed, a sarcophagus within a room 
                 built to last Egyptian ages. 
                 Within the 
                 red case, capped by a crystalline stopper, surrounded by dark gray 
                 shock-proof foam, rested the flask. 
                 It was a 
                 single Erlenmeyer flask; clear, glassine, covered with text, 
                 measuring lines, and a symbolic representation of the Equestrian form. 
                 Inside the 
                 flask was the reason for all of the seals, the armor, the shock-proof 
                 foam. Nine ounces of thick, viscous purple fluid slowly swirled, 
                 dimly sparking with fairy lights. 
                 Submerged 
                 within the fluid, jostled and buffeted by Brownian motion, 
                 microscopic machines floated. They were the inventions of Man, made 
                 of metal, and plastic, and organic molecules, tiny clockwork demons 
                 capable of rewiring the stuff of life itself. Living inside of the 
                 machines, humming and singing through submicroscopic channels, 
                 coursing through miniscule ports and tubules, raged unearthly forces 
                 - streaks of color and wisps of etherial power; the concentrated 
                 magic of Equestria. 
                 Three 
                 ounces a serving, three servings left; the recipe that made new life 
                 by remaking old life anew, sang quiet songs to itself, music that 
                 only those touched by magic could hear. 
                 In the 
                 room, in the dark, in the case, the Erlenmeyer with nine ounces 
                 patiently waited. 
                   
                   
                 Elijah the 
                 pony sat in the dark on the large, soft, lumpen mass that more or 
                 less resembled a sofa; his legs folded under him, his tail spread out 
                 behind. Pressed close to his hindquarters, pony Logan rested, still 
                 unsure of his new body. Elijah occasionally stroked Logan's back with 
                 his tail, sweeping it gently to and fro. Logan had let his head rest 
                 halfway between Elijah's croup and back, every time Elijah swept his 
                 tail, Logan could feel it impact his long neck. Both felt warm and cozy. 
                 Logan had 
                 just finished telling his friend about his life, about how he had 
                 come to the Bureau, about what kind of pony he was. Elijah had 
                 nuzzled his head after that, reaching back to do so. Logan felt his 
                 ears being gently licked. It was an almost motherly gesture from 
                 Elijah, and it somehow made the sadness he had felt telling about his 
                 life fade away. 
                 "Hee!"
                  Elijah had let loose a soft giggle.  
                 "What?"
                  Logan opened his half-closed eyes, curious. 
                 "Who 
                 would have imagined we'd have ended up here, now?" Elijah seemed 
                 mirthful, but also a little astonished. 
                 "Yeah."
                  Logan couldn't help but feel the same way. For two weeks they had 
                 been at each others throats, arguing constantly. 
                 It had 
                 been three o'clock, earlier that day, when Logan had first awakened 
                 on the Conversion Room Table. Dr. Pastern and her PA Lynn were 
                 chatting as consciousness returned to him. They were talking about 
                 some old media which Lynn favored, but which Dr. Pastern had never 
                 heard of, and Lynn was trying to get the doctor to give it a try.  
                 Logan had 
                 quietly moved what had once been his arms, sliding them across the 
                 table where he lay on his side. His arms were now his forelegs, and 
                 he saw that they were covered in short, grey hair, his coat was the 
                 color of a comfortable old sweater, the color of a summer raincloud. 
                 It was a lovely color, he thought. Manly, yet gentle. 
                 Stallion-ly,
                  perhaps. He would have to get used to a new lexicon now. He could no 
                 longer be manly, because he was no longer a part of the species of 
                 Man.  
                 Logan 
                 didn't say anything at first. Lynn and Dr. Pastern were wrapped up in 
                 their discussion and that was fine - Logan didn't actually want them 
                 to turn their attention and begin to fuss over him yet. They were 
                 there, and that made him feel safe, but he wanted some time to just 
                 lay there and feel his new body, to say hello to it, to let it 
                 welcome him within it. 
                 Logan 
                 studied his front hooves. He was afraid to move too much, for that 
                 would draw attention. His hooves gleamed in the light, smooth and 
                 hard and shiny. Gigantic fingernails, really, but more complex. He 
                 softly clocked them together, not enough to make a sound, but enough 
                 that he could feel the impact. Hooves were more sensitive than he had 
                 imagined, they were not just dead objects to support his weight, they 
                 were living parts of him. 
                 He felt 
                 around with his awareness. Ears, tall and proud, stood high on his 
                 new skull. He moved them tentatively, fascinated by how the sounds of 
                 the doctor and her assistant changed as he did so. He could easily 
                 tell where the two were in the space around him, and the space 
                 itself, the room, had a presence and a shape derived from the echo of 
                 their voices. His vanished, human ears seemed poor in comparison. 
                 The feel 
                 of his body, his shape, was so different. This was to be expected, of 
                 course, but the full impact of it surprised Logan. He could feel that 
                 the basic structure of his old body was still there, roughly, but the 
                 parts had different shapes now, some longer, like the bones in his 
                 lower legs, and some much shorter, like what had once been his 
                 shoulder and forearm. The strangest thing was that nothing of his new 
                 body felt 'wrong' or 'strange' - it must be that the internal 'map' 
                 of the body within his brain had also been changed, so that his new 
                 shape would be also his new 'normal'. 
                 The women 
                 had been silent now for a while. He had been noticed, he had moved 
                 too much, so his private time to assess himself was over. That was 
                 OK. He wanted to try to stand up now, anyway. 
                 Logan 
                 didn't expect any cheers when he finally entered the cafeteria, on 
                 his way to his room, and he didn't get any. Everyone else, pony and 
                 human alike, would be busy now, taking orientation classes, or - for 
                 the converted - learning basic physical and grooming skills in the 
                 Bureau's shared training area. Logan himself could look forward to 
                 the latter, which permitted an additional week to stay at the clinic, 
                 the bill paid from the Royal coffers of Equestria. As a pony, he was 
                 now automatically a citizen of Equestria, a subject of the Princesses 
                 Celestia and Luna. At the end of that final week, he would have two 
                 choices; emigration or release.  
                 He 
                 intended emigration. Logan had no remaining interest in Earth, and no 
                 reason to walk upon it any longer than he absolutely had to. He began 
                 to imagine the wonders he would soon experience, when he rode the 
                 boat to Equestria. The Bureau provided transport from a newly 
                 constructed pier near the complex, via several ships. The ships 
                 traveled out to a floating platform that had been towed and placed by 
                 the edge of the expanding Barrier, far out at sea. The other side of 
                 the barrier was desert, apparently, so it was a simple matter to trot 
                 up a ramp from the Earth side, and hop through the shimmering wall 
                 onto the sand. The Equestrian side had set up some kind of welcoming 
                 center there, with staff to assist newfoals to find places to live, 
                 jobs and... 
                 Suddenly, 
                 Logan came muzzle to muzzle with pony Elijah. 
                 Logan, 
                 startled out of his thoughts, jumped back, or tried to, and landed in 
                 a heap of legs and hooves and mane and tail. He briefly felt 
                 disoriented; he was still trying to learn how his new body worked. 
                 Gradually he understood that he was sitting, more or less, his rear 
                 legs splayed out, his front legs crossed over each other, and his 
                 still clumsy hooves somehow blocking each other. His tail hurt, 
                 because he had landed on it. 
                 "Oh! 
                 I am so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and..." 
                 Elijah looked very embarrassed and worried too, he could see Logan 
                 struggling to figure out how to get back on his feet. 
                 "Eli-JAH!" 
                 Logan was not as much angry as he felt ridiculous; in the Conversion 
                 Room, Lynn and Dr. Pastern had helped him stand, but now his hooves 
                 felt heavy and he wasn't sure which way to move anything. He felt 
                 like a helpless child instead of an adult. 
                 "Just 
                 fall over on your side. Go on, it works, trust me!" Elijah 
                 seemed earnest enough. Logan didn't know what else to do, so he tried 
                 Elijah's advice. Laying on his side in the middle of the cafeteria 
                 floor, he felt even more ridiculous, but at least the pain in his 
                 tail was going away. 
                 "Now, 
                 roll over onto your belly. Everything will make sense then. I 
                 promise." Elijah's voice was soft, even kind. 
                 What the 
                 hell. Logan rolled over onto his belly; doing so uncrossed his legs, 
                 and just as Elijah had said, his limbs suddenly made obvious sense to 
                 him. Now he felt even more silly, because he couldn't imagine how he 
                 had been so confused but a moment ago. 
                 "It's 
                 kind of like being a child again. I fell down the same way, and I 
                 felt confused. So I just gave up and fell over, and things worked 
                 out. It just takes a little time, that's all." Elijah smiled as 
                 Logan regained his hooves, and finally ended up standing again. 
                 "You look really amazing, Logan. Your mane is beautiful!"
                  The look in Elijah's face was just so happy, Logan forgot how 
                 frustrated he had been just a moment ago. 
                 "Um..."
                  Logan's neck unconsciously bowed down a little, so he found himself 
                 looking up at Elijah. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I guess I 
                 just felt angry for falling down like an idiot." 
                 "It's 
                 OK, Logan. I probably shouldn't have gotten so impatient and galloped 
                 out to see if you were awake yet. I've been waiting to greet you 
                 after your conversion." Elijah just kept smiling at him. Logan 
                 figured Elijah probably didn't like him very much, what with all the 
                 arguing and all; what was this all about? 
                 "Listen,
                  Elijah..." Logan wasn't sure how much he wanted to say, 
                 but..."I'm really sorry for how I picked on you. I kind of had 
                 way too much fun arguing with you. I wasn't trying to be mean, 
                 honestly." Logan looked down at his hooves. "I... I've kind 
                 of been dealing with a lot of stuff, and you were just there and..." 
                 "And?"
                  The pause had gone on too long for Elijah. 
                 "And..."
                  Logan's voice lowered to a faint, somewhat squeaky whisper. "...
                  and I thought you were kind of cute and I guess I just teased you by 
                 arguing with you because I couldn't say anything." Oh crap. 
                 That was stupid. It must be his new pony brain. Great, he was 
                 retarded. Just splendid. Logan became very red, and began to stumble 
                 as quickly as he could back to his room. How could he just say 
                 something like that?  
                 He felt 
                 his tail being pulled. He couldn't move forward anymore. 
                 "Waipt!" Elijah's mouth was full of tail hair. 
                 Logan 
                 turned slowly around. Elijah released Logan's tail. "Logan, 
                 wait. I knew that. I knew you were giving me a hard time 
                 because you weren't sure about me. I could tell you liked me, I saw 
                 the way you looked at me."  
                 Oh, crap. 
                 Apparently he wasn't able to get away with anything! Logan just 
                 sighed. But then he brightened. Elijah wasn't running away. 
                 "Elijah?"
                  Logan lifted his head and looked straight at Elijah's beautiful 
                 face. Those intense burgundy eyes! 
                 Elijah 
                 just walked forward, past Logan's head and neck, and placed his head 
                 over Logan's back. It felt warm and completely comforting. Logan's 
                 quick mind instantly sussed what it was; this was a pony hug. With no 
                 arms, this is what ponies did to hug. Logan followed Elijah's example 
                 and lay his own head across Elijah's back.  
                 There they 
                 stood for a long time. 
                 Logan 
                 broke the warm silence first. "I guess... you like me, too?" 
                 "I 
                 like you too, Logan."  
                 Of course 
                 he did! He had argued right back. He could have left at any time. But 
                 he stayed and kept it going. Elijah must have felt unsure about 
                 Logan, just as he felt unsure about Elijah. Their arguments were just 
                 a way of feeling the other out, seeing if any interest was being 
                 returned! Logan felt happy. Very happy. 
                 Falling 
                 down had been the best thing he had done so far in his new body. It 
                 had led to this. 
                 It was all 
                 such a happy memory, even if it was so new. 
                 The old 
                 couch was soft, it was the middle of the night, and Logan and Elijah 
                 were feeling tired. It had been a big day. A wonderful day. They had 
                 truly met each other for the first time, with no barriers, honestly 
                 and openly, though it had taken being ponified to get there. 
                 Logan snuggled into Elijah's hindquarters, his head upon his back.  
                 "Logan?"
                  Logan raised his head. Was he too close? Elijah's head was an inch 
                 from his, neck bent back to meet him. Elijah stretched just a bit 
                 more, his lips meeting Logan's. It was a sweet kiss, gentle and 
                 simple. The two stallions smiled at each other. 
                 "Would
                  it be OK just to stay like this for awhile?" Elijah's voice 
                 sounded sleepy. 
                 "I'll 
                 probably fall asleep on you." Logan had snuggled his head back 
                 into the curve of Elijah's back. 
                 "That's
                  exactly what I..." Elijah yawned. "...would like best." 
                   
                   
                 Dr. 
                 Pastern didn't need her Little Golden Books tonight. She was laying, 
                 still in her clothes, on the foam bed that Alexi had obtained for 
                 her, months ago. And she was happy. More than happy. 
                 She felt 
                 ecstatic! Triumphant! Today had been a special day. Two 
                 straightforward conversions, no problems, and the best part of all, 
                 she had come through for Ryan! She had, as far as she could tell, 
                 made history. She had discovered a means to assure the proper 
                 conversions of female-to-male transmen. But mostly, she had saved the 
                 patient she knew, Ryan Niequist, age twenty-six, male. It had 
                 been one hell of an incredible day.  
                 Briefly, 
                 Roselyn imagined taking the serum herself. She enjoyed the image in 
                 her mind of standing on new hooves on green pastures. It was right 
                 there in the Conversion Room. It would take all of fifteen minutes. 
                 Suddenly, 
                 a darker thought invaded her mind. If only she had known all of this 
                 seven months ago. No, there was nothing she could have done, even if. 
                 She was as much a corporate prisoner as those men, in that situation. 
                 The ones that had received a sufficient dosage had survived, for a 
                 time, as mares of course. The original, red serum was created using 
                 only female Equestrian templates.  
                 But they 
                 hadn't survived. Dissection of the specimens was needed to establish 
                 the totality of the transformation. Pastern shuddered and turned on 
                 her side. At least she hadn't had to participate in that. Not directly. 
                 But she 
                 had been forced to study the slides, cross-sections, and tissue 
                 samples. They had to know, they had said. They had to completely 
                 understand before committing the world, the entire species, to 
                 Conversion. They had to know that it worked, how well it worked, that 
                 Celestia was telling the truth. 
                 And once 
                 she was in, there was no way out again.  
                 Her work 
                 had helped to establish some of the procedures for all of the 
                 Conversion Bureaus. Hers was a tiny part, a small part of it all, but 
                 not insignificant. Dosage, efficacy, she had even contributed a tiny 
                 amount to the final programming that the nanofluid used to do its 
                 job. Not an important section of the programming, but still. 
                 No matter 
                 how she tried to see the value of it, the faces of those five men 
                 still screamed silently at her. Oh, Celestia. Oh, dear, sweet Celestia. 
                 Roselyn 
                 had come to see the regent of Equestria as what she was claimed to 
                 be; a living goddess. She hadn't deliberately chosen this view, it 
                 just gradually happened to her. Roselyn had become fascinated with 
                 the holoimages of the alicorn during her time working with the secret 
                 nanotechnomagical research program; her position allowed her access 
                 to images and information that the public never got to see. 
                 Roselyn 
                 had watched the probe's feed showing Celestia making the Equestrian 
                 sun rise into the sky. The world government had firmly censored those 
                 images. Only the highest clearance was allowed to know that those 
                 images even existed. She had used her situation to study them. 
                 After all, if the nanomachines were supposed to be powered by magic, 
                 then she needed to understand what magic was, that was her excuse. 
                 Over and 
                 over she had obsessively studied the available material on Celestia. 
                 She had memorized her face, the details of her crown, the expressions 
                 in her eyes, the ethereal rippling of the arcane energy field that 
                 stood in place of a mane. There was no deception, no mistake. 
                 Celestia was not just an ordinary creature. She was something 
                 profoundly more. Something more than flesh and blood. 
                 Celestia 
                 could literally control the fundamental forces of the universe she 
                 presided over. If that was not a deity, it was the closest thing to 
                 it that Roselyn Pastern could imagine. 
                 Roselyn 
                 had no idea if this alien goddess heard the prayers of any creature. 
                 It was Roselyn's deepest secret that she sometimes prayed to 
                 Celestia. In her imagination, in her thoughts, she told Celestia 
                 about anything good she might have done to help others, and she 
                 begged forgiveness for what she had done in the past. For those men. 
                 She was 
                 deeply embarrassed and ashamed of this quirk. It was foolish, stupid, 
                 childish. It was insultingly unscientific. Roselyn certainly would 
                 never admit to believing in any deity to anyone. There was no 
                 basis to even think that Celestia would hear her petty thoughts, or 
                 that she would even bother to if she could. Roselyn wasn't even a pony.
                  She was just another killer ape monster from the human world. Those 
                 poor men. How could she imagine any mercy for herself? 
                 Damn, this 
                 had been a great day. Why did she have to think about that? 
                 Why did that old memory have to come back now, right after she had 
                 finally done some real good? 
                 Sleep. She 
                 just needed some sleep. Roselyn began her nightly routine, 
                 undressing, brushing her teeth.  
                 The room 
                 was dark now. She curled up around her pillow, holding it across her 
                 chest as if it were a doll in her arms. She hugged it tight. She had 
                 done good today. She had helped Ryan. She had been useful. She had 
                 been compassionate. Why was it never enough? Oh, Celestia, I did good 
                 today. I helped a man become his true pony self. My work will help 
                 others in the future. I will never stop trying to help. Please, 
                 someday, someday... can you let someone like me go home too? 
                   
                   
                 Alexi 
                 could not sleep. He wanted to sleep. But he had gone too far, and he 
                 knew it. The Unpleasant Man would not negotiate. He never negotiated. 
                 There was no way to get a red case. He knew that, why did he say that 
                 he could? How could he have been so stupid? 
                 He had 
                 just wanted to help Dr. Pastern. She had said that it was really, 
                 really important. The most important thing, a man's life. How could 
                 Alexi fail that? Never let it be said that Alexi Venäläinen 
                 would stand by and let an innocent die. His mother, god rest her 
                 soul, would never forgive him. It had just happened so fast, over the 
                 terminal. That unpleasant man, he scared Alexi. 
                 And now he 
                 had gotten Caprice mixed up in it. He never should have told her. He 
                 could have protected her if he had just answered her "I will lie 
                 to you any time I want!" or "Go away you stupid pony!" 
                 but he had not. Why hadn't he? Stupid, stupid Alexi. You think you 
                 will have a relationship with this girl. But she is not a girl. She 
                 is a mare, and you are a foolish human man. Alexi buried his head in 
                 his pillow. 
                 Alexi's 
                 bed did not seem grand tonight. It seemed far too large for such a 
                 small man, and far too good for such a stupid man.  
                 But mostly 
                 it just seemed empty. So terribly lonely and empty. 
                 Caprice 
                 deserved someone better than him. He knew that. She would find some 
                 good and kind stallion in Equestria. Some strong pony that could keep 
                 her safe and protect her. If protection was even needed in Equestria, 
                 of course.  
                 He should 
                 break it off. Alexi thought about it. Yes, he should tell her to 
                 leave him alone. Then she would be safe. Somehow, he must find a way 
                 to make her dislike him. Then, when the inevitable happened, she 
                 would not be hurt. It was the only loving thing to do. 
                 Not that 
                 he loved her, of course. No. It was the... responsible 
                 thing to do. That was it. Alexi would do the right thing. 
                 He turned 
                 over again in his bed. The thought of telling Caprice to go away cut 
                 him like a sword.  
                 Alexi was 
                 not getting any rest tonight. 
                   
                   
                 Pumpkin 
                 Licorice snuggled close to Caprice in the dark. That was her new 
                 name, her pony name, much better than 'Sharon'. They had kept their 
                 mattresses together, it was just so nice. Caprice had said it was 
                 natural, too. "We are ponies, now, not humans. It is natural for 
                 little animals to cuddle together, and are we not little 
                 animals?" All Pumpkin knew for sure was that she felt safe and 
                 warm with Caprice. Caprice was so nice! 
                 Somewhere 
                 inside her, Pumpkin imagined her growing foal. Lynn had offered to 
                 scan her and tell her whether it was a colt or a filly, but she had 
                 asked her not to. She just wanted to do this like any other pony, and 
                 somehow using technology just seemed... wrong somehow. Whatever her 
                 foal was, she would love it.  
                 Pumpkin 
                 liked to daydream about playing with her foal. Mostly she imagined 
                 having a filly, and they would run across wide green fields, and 
                 nibble flowers together. Her favorite image was having her little 
                 filly curled up beside her, sleeping. Just like her and Caprice, now. 
                 It was such a sweet image, it made her heart skip. 
                 She really 
                 liked being a pony, she decided. It was the best thing that had ever 
                 happened to her. She pressed in a little tighter to Caprice; she 
                 could hear her heart beating now. It was so warm. So soft, the smell 
                 of her beautiful peach coat. 
                 Dreams of 
                 running with her foal began behind Pumpkin's eyelids. In the dark, 
                 the little pregnant filly softly smiled. 
                   
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