Cult-ivar - 2


                                            >You knew that the average Equestrian was quite childlike, but you've just had your nose rubbed in it.

                                            >The Princesses had pulled together a group of the finest scholars and scientists their nation had to offer, and you were tasked with evaluating the feasibility of teaching them as much of your "advanced Human knowledge" as you could.

                                            >At first it sounded like a great assignment.

                                            >Unlimited budget, full access to the government archives, and the promise of kicking off the renaissance to end all renaissances.

                                            >The first day of class, you watched allegedly world-class experts fail to grasp the concept of physics.

                                            >Not specific concepts like quantum superposition or particle-wave duality, but the idea that you could model reality with mathematics in the first place.

                                            >You stepped it back a notch for the second day when half the original cohort ditched, trying to gauge where the group stood on their fundamentals and hoping to leapfrog up to their state of the art in mathematics.

                                            >Your goal that day was creating a Rosetta stone of sorts to bridge the two mathematical systems.

                                            >Instead, nobody knew what an integral was, and not because it had a different name or anything like that.

                                            >Today you went as far back as you could think of, and finally come to a... retrospectively unsurprising conclusion.

                                            >It's not that they're using a different numerical base, or that they veered off into a different set of axioms two thousand years ago, or even anything as simple as having a mutually incompatible representation of equations to trip both sides up whenever muscle memory took over.

                                            >Ponies just don't get math.

                                            >Well, almost all ponies.

                                            >Cheerilee was just as clueless as the rest of the class was the first few days, but after literally starting from "multiplication is repeated addition" she seems to have been following along fine.

                                            >She may as well be one of a kind though, even Celestia's vaunted "personal student" couldn't grok the idea of area.

                                            >To be fair, if you excluded Cheerilee as an outlier Twilight was far more engaged and better behaved than the rest of the class.

                                            >You have spitballs in your hair courtesy of Manehatten's premier structural engineer.

                                            >As you speak with the mare, you're becoming more and more convinced that the only remaining path forward would be to take a clue from Celestia and get your own "personal student" in the form of Cheerilee.

                                            >Sure, it's not the cultural revolution the Princesses've been hoping for, but even a semi-competent apprentice would be an incredible time saver if you end up having to personally blitz the entire global tech tree.

                                            >As a twenty-first century human you're starting to crave some climate control, and although Celestia would be happy to oblige, a personal pegasus mareservant simply won't cut it.

                                            >Disengaging your social autopilot, you return your full attention to Cheerilee.

                                            "I have a proposal I want to run by Celestia, but first, how long are you staying in Canterlot?"

                                            >"Well, I really only had a substitute lined up until the end of the week. I could try to find somepony else to cover for me for a little while longer, but I'll need at least a day of warning for the mail, and probably another day before I know whether they'll accept."

                                            "Alright, I'm going to go have a quick chat with the Princess about something then. Is there any way I can speak with you later tonight?"

                                            >"I'm staying in the castle, so you could just ask one of the guards to show you to my room."

                                            "Sounds good, thanks again for the help Cheers."

                                            >"You're very welcome!"

                                            >You exit the room, locking the door behind the two of you and ask a guard patrolling the hallway what the quickest way to the Princess is.

                                            >Understandably he doesn't know where she is right now, but he leaves to go ask someone who does.

                                            >Cheerilee's long since trotted off by the time a guard with a much fancier broom on his helmet introduces himself as the captain of the guard, and offers to lead you to the Princess' quarters.

                                            >Strangely, making your way through the maze of hallways, you keep seeing flashes of purple as you round each corner.