Follows A Little Spark 03

>”Ah, there’s my little adviser.”
>Startled awake, you jolt upright in your seat. Celestia stands on the other side of your large workbench. A large rubber flap suspended in the air in front of her drops to the table.
“Oh, hey Princess. I, uh, did I miss something?”
>”Nothing you were needed for. Your requests are becoming rather specific. I thought I’d stop by and see what you were working on.”
>Behind her entered the palace quartermare, or whatever they called the pony in charge of the royal supply closet. Dragging behind her, one end held in a telekinetic grip, were two large toothed bars. The poor unicorn tried to lift the racks to the workbench, but couldn’t make the high surface. She ended up dropping them beside it instead, then left the room panting.
>Perhaps it’d be worthwhile to see the limitations of unicorns who weren’t magical prodigies. You stroke your chin in thought at the display you’d just witnessed.
>Shit, you haven’t shaved in three days.
“Are the rest of the parts coming? If you could put me through to the smith directly...”
>”Palace resources are precious, Anon. I will find time in their busy schedule to have your request fulfilled.” Celestia cocks and lowers her head, craning her neck across the table. “You look terrible, and this is the first time I’ve seen you sleeping in here. Are you getting enough rest? Taking care of yourself?”
>You wave her concern off.
“You sound like my mother.”
>”I bet she was a wise mare, and you’d have done well to listen to her.”
“It sounds weird when you refer to stuff from my world with Equestrian terms.”
>She smiles. “Ah, but how else would you adapt to your new home?” Despite the rhetorical question, her tone sounds apologetic.
>She walks around the table to where you sit, her flowing shimmering mane shifting to the other side of her body, to not blanket you. Is that something she can control consciously? Luna wasn’t able to, or at least never thought to do so, leading to a bit of embarrassment last night when she came close enough to be distracting. Apparently staring is as impolite here as back home.
>“What were you doing so boring to fall asleep?”
>A big spool of copper wire sits next to you and a collection of thick rods is scattered around this side. Several of them have plates on either end with the wire wound around the shafts. One in front of you has the same plates, but the wire’s only partially wound.
“You have no idea how boring making coils by hand is.”
>“Surely it cannot be that bad.” Celestia laughs, crystal clear. Just hearing it wakes you up a little more, brings you a new alertness and serenity.
“How do you DO that?”
>”Simple; I forego fingers.” Your desk suddenly blazes with pale golden light; a length of wire is extracted from its spool of its own accord, is bent and snapped, and drifts over to a now-floating empty rod. It twists itself into a coil, the rod floats through this coil’s center, and the wire contracts all at once around it, slithering out so its ends align perfectly with the rod’s faces.
“That’s not what I meant, but holy hell.”
>You pick up the now-wound coil and inspect it. Its spacing is impeccable, the wind flawless.
“You know, I could really use an assistant.”
>Celestia laughs again. You’re now even more awake.
>”A playmate, Anon?”
“The guards aren’t interested, the noble stallions have their own interests, and you manage to keep the mares busy enough they never have the time. Well, the mares who don’t simply gawk, or shrug me off.”
>”Your hobby is… unorthodox.”
“It’s my job, and I’m a workaholic.”
>”Your position is our adviser, Anon, and you’re quite adept.”
“At bullshitting answers? I guess. I never find out if they work or not.”
>”My sister usually handles concerns of administration like that. If she’s not informing you of your results after our meetings, perhaps she is avoiding you for some reason.”
>You look at Celestia sidelong. Her face is a perfect image of innocence.
“I guess. At any rate, it’d be nice to have someone who I could interest in this work. Isn’t Twilight Sparkle supposed to be a bookworm? You have no idea the number of equations I can drop on her head.”
>”My foremost student studies magic. This is perhaps the furthest thing from that. I’m not sure I’d be able to convince her to help you.”
>The tilt of her head, her relaxed stance, the way her wings are barely folded against her back, her whole body looks the exact opposite of guarded; open and sincere.
>You realize this is a game, perhaps the only game that matters. Celestia has had a millennium to perfect her play at the highest levels. You barely broke even in the company cafeteria.
>How do you call a sovereign a liar to her face without getting executed? You’re not going to take your chances that you’ll find a third world after your second death. You still don’t know if you got here by dying at all.
>Score: fifteen-love.
>You sigh and look back to your work, picking up the half-completed coil and starting to unkink the wire.
“Some smart guys at NASA – remind me to explain that group to you sometime, you might get a kick out of it – said there are three categories of knowledge. You have your known knowns, your known unknowns, and your unknown unknowns. I’ve found this very useful advice for engineering.”
>You finish your work straightening the wire, and resume winding it by hand.
“Obviously, you have your pool of knowledge. Then there’s everything you’re aware you lack, the gaps in your knowledge, all the things you might need help to understand. Know what I’m saying? But after that there’s everything else. All the knowledge that you have no frame of reference for, that you can’t even know you don’t know.”
>You’ve found a rhythm with the coiling now. It’s a lot easier to slip into now that you’re not exhausted.
“In the end, it’s the unknown unknowns that get you. I need to watch out for them. Even you need to watch out for them.”
>Celestia is silent for a moment. You don’t dare meet her gaze, and simply continue winding your coil.
>Eventually, “Who taught you that wisdom?”
“Ah, who knows. Just call it a friend’s lesson.”
>You sneak a glance, finally.
>She still looks sincere, but a light has gone from her eyes, replaced by a strange flatness. At least her eyes are honest.
>Score: fifteen-all.
“It’d be a lot easier if I had someone who knew the ins and outs of magic. That would, I think, cover quite a lot of unknown, and that’s just ones I can think of. I have no idea what could possibly be lurking out there beyond the bits of it I can even contemplate, but I’m sure there are those who do.”
>”I’ll see if I can win her over to your cause.”
“Thanks. I’ll need someone to spin that obnoxious thing.”
>You jerk a thumb to the featureless wall opposite the room’s lone window, currently occupied by your half-constructed variable transmission, then resume your winding.
>”Just be careful, Anon. Many of our social customs would also be unknown unknowns to you.”
>You fail to hide a wince, but continue your work.
>Score: thirty-fifteen.
>”You’re important to me. A fresh perspective is often useful, especially when I’ve ruled for a long time. It would sadden me if you lost status due to mere ignorance.”
>Score: forty-fifteen.
>You put the coil down and think a bit.
“I may have said it before, but where I come from, it’s not unusual for guys to keep their social competitions, uh, constrained. Or, no, that’s not it. We don’t really play for stakes except in certain situations; while I can’t deny it happens, it’s not like our every conversation is moving pegs. I’m not an exception to that.”
>You look back to Celestia. Her jaw is working as if shes physically chewing on this.
>Score: forty-thirty.
“I never asked for the position you gave me. I don’t even know if my advice is any good or not. Your other advisers and functionaries totally ignore me. If some slip-up means this workshop has to be relocated from this lofty two-digit-story floor to the dungeons, so be it. At least I’d still be working in peace.”
>Her demeanor had shifted from thoughtful to apologetic understanding.
>Score: Deuce
>”Anon, I know I thrust you into a difficult position, but it was the fastest way for you to demonstrate your talents. As long as I keep you at my side, I keep you protected. Those guards you talk to, well, they talk to each other. They’re quite the rumormongers. And while it may be different in your world, here stallions will gossip about anything, all the time. This is useful, and the true reason I keep them around; my guards know far more about what goes on in this palace than I ever could because of it, and will volunteer any information I ask them for. Lately, though, a lot of that gossip has been about you, and your obsessive pursuits.”
>Ah, hell. Unknown unknowns.
>Score: Advantage in
>Celestia leans in close, then, studying your expression intimately. If you had the misfortune to sneeze now, you’d scalp yourself with her horn.
>”If anyone starts coming after you, whether rhetorically or by more serious… social maneuvering, please tell me immediately. I’m worried about you.”
>Her honest eyes show the truth of her words.
>Game
>You sigh and slump in defeat.
>The Game is bullshit
“Yeah, alright. I just… I want to get this done. If I can pull this off, that gossip will turn to awe. But I need resources, and I need time.”
>”I’ll give you everything I can, Anon. You may not believe me, but I really do value your input. Besides,” she chuckles, pulling her head away from you to a more normal posture, “nobody else has the nerve to talk to me like you do. Especially not that other subordinate who I so value. Twilight is familiar, but at the same time skittish.”
“Yeah, I, uh, heard that.”
>Celestia gave you a knowing smile. “I’ll bet you have. Is there anything else you need? Before you ask, the rest of the parts you wanted are still on order.”
>You wave a hand over your collection of coils.
“I need a lot of these. Tons.”
>”I think I have a stretch of free time."
>The sovereign ruler of this kingdom sat on her haunches beside you like a giant puppy, and once again your workbench was awash in golden fire.