A Pony For Her Birthday, Iteration 3

Confused? Iteration One is here.


"Max, what have you done?"

She could hear his surprise through the phone. "What do you mean, what have I done? I created a pony that is completely safe for Stacy to ride."

"Max, that's... not a pony. I don't know what it is, but it's not a pony."

"What? Of course it's a pony. A full seventy percent of its genetic base is--"

"I don't care about its genetic base, Max. It has wings."

"She wanted a pony with wings. That's also why it has a horn. It's not like it actually flies."

"That's true, it doesn't fly." Samantha took a deep breath, then let it out. "Okay, fine. It was meant to be a winged pony with a horn."

"...Which will not crash into things, and which our daughter will not fall off of. The tentacles were a very effective addition, were they not?"

"Well..." Samantha hesitated. "I'll grant you, I don't think there's any way Stacy can fall off her... present."

"So what's the problem?"

"Max, she has sucker-marks all up and down her legs. How I'm going to explain that to her teacher, I can't begin to imagine."

There was a momentary hesitation. "Well, yes, I suppose that could be a difficulty. Still, a proper set of riding pants should fix that. Is Stacy, at least, happy with her new pony?"

Samantha hesitated. "Yes," she admitted at last. "Stacy's happy with it, even if it isn't a pony."

"Why do you keep saying that? I've explained the wings. I've explained the horn. I've explained the tentacles. Why do you keep insisting that Stacy's new pony isn't a pony?"

"Because ponies don't slither, Max." Samantha took another breath, and waited to hear his response.

"Well," said Maximilian Savage in his most dignified tone of voice, "this one does."

I give up, Samantha thought. I'm never going to get him to see this my way. Relenting, she said, "I guess it doesn't matter. Stacy loves it, and that's what counts, right?"

"I would think so," Max replied stiffly. There was a long pause, and then he added: "Has she spoken to you about Christmas?"

"...What about Christmas?" Samantha asked warily.

"She's asked for a gene sequencer of her own, with a two-ton growth tank."

Samantha Woodman cradled the phone and let that thought sink in. There was, she thought, no way to escape. Finally, she shook her head. "Send me the specs. Maybe we can set it up in the barn or something."

"Thank you, Samantha." Max's voice was warm. "It means a lot to me. And it will mean more to Stacy."

"Yeah." Samantha chuckled. "I don't know if I can survive having two of you doing this stuff, but I guess I'd better start figuring out how."

A Pony For Her Birthday, Iteration 2

Confused? Iteration One is here.


Four hours later, Samantha was back in her parents' kitchen, listening to the phone ring again. Max picked up himself this time: "Hello again, Samantha."

"Hello, Max."

"What went wrong this time? ...I presume that's why you're calling."

"Well, we found the second pony -- I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you to air-drop Stacy's present, but it worked. And we got Stacy all suited up, and took her out to the pasture, and put her on the pony."

"...And?"

"And the pony took off at about Mach Two. Stacy tumbled right off the back, but she's okay -- just a little bruised."

"The armor did its job, then." Max sounded relieved.

"Yes, yes it did. But the pony took off so fast that it couldn't turn, so it crashed into the woodlot and exploded. Which, again, is not exactly what Stacy was hoping for from her present. Not to mention that if she hadn't fallen, she might have exploded along with it."

"Yes," Max answered slowly. "That is disappointing. Though the armor would have--"

"I'm sure. Look, the Cowans have an ordinary, natural pony that they might be willing to part with. I could arrange to have them bring it over this afternoon, and--"

"No," said Max. "I'll take care of it. Ask Stacy to be patient, and tell her I'll have a new pony -- one that won't crash, and one that she can't fall off -- ready for her in the morning."

"Are you sure, Max?"

"I'm sure. Today's project requires a bit more work, so this will be a nice break from it."

Samantha repressed a sigh. "Okay. I'll tell her."

"Thank you, Sam."

Proceed to Iteration 3...

A Pony For Her Birthday, Iteration 1

Samantha Woodman held the phone to her ear and listened to it ring. It picked up on the fourth ring, and the familiar voice of her ex-husband's lab assistant said, "Savage Inventions, what can we make possible for you?"

Sam shook her head. It wasn't even dawn yet, and they were already at work. "Hi, Pete," she said. "Can you put Max on for me?"

"Oh, hi Mrs-- Miss Samantha. Sure, I'll get him. Hang on a sec."

There was a brief pause, and then her husband picked up the phone. "Samantha," he said by way of greeting. "May I assume that Stacy's present has arrived?"

Samantha paused, her suspicions confirmed. "Why don't I tell you about my morning, and you can tell me what happened?"

"Sam--" Maximilian Savage paused, then apparently reconsidered whatever protest he had been about to make. "Go ahead."

"To start with, there was this godawful shrieking right outside my window. That was what woke me up. By the time I fought my way out from under the covers, it was fading back down to nothing -- but by then I could hear Stacy, crying and screaming outside my window."

"Is she...?"

"She's fine, Max. Just upset. So I ran outside, and found her sitting on the ground beside a giant wooden crate. I tried to ask her what was wrong, and she just says that her pony flew away. Any of this sound familiar?"

"It does."

"Humor me and explain."

"Well..." Max's voice turned distant as he considered. "Stacy asked for a pony for her birthday. I arranged to have it delivered last night, as a surprise."

"...And she woke up very early, and went outside and found it." Samantha took a deep breath, and reminded herself to be patient. "I got that part. How did a pony manage to fly away from my parents' ranch?"

"Jet engines, of course." Max sounded impatient, as if he thought this should be perfectly obvious. He probably did. "The wings are cybernetic, but even so it takes more than wingspan to get something size of a pony off the ground."

"Wings," repeated Samantha. She shouldn't be surprised; she'd known what Maximilian was when she divorced him. "You gave our daughter a pony with jet engines and wings."

"Impressive, isn't it?" He sounded pleased. "Actually, getting the horn to shoot rainbows was more of a challenge."

"Rainbows?" Samantha echoed dubiously.

"Don't worry. The default setting is non-destructive."

Samantha decided to ignore that. "Our daughter just finished first grade. She isn't ready for a driver's license, let alone a pilot's license. And even if she were, I am not ready to have our daughter flying around on her own."

There was a long silence.

"...Very well," Max said stiffly. "I have an earlier iteration, non-flying, that I can send in its place. And I'll dispatch... something... to make certain that the original pony does not return on her own. Will that satisfy you?"

"Yes, Max. Thank you, Max." Samantha took a deep breath. "That will do very nicely."

Then she hung up the phone, knowing full well that the day's excitement wasn't over yet.

Proceed to Iteration 2...