eugenesis-text

‘They said you died on Junk.’
‘Evidently not. I have a proposition for you, yes’
‘You’re here to make a deal!’
‘Drop the gun and we’ll negotiate.’
Ultra Magnus looked at him, weighing up the coincidences and the betrayals. ‘I haven’t got time for
this,’ he sighed, and walked away.
‘Don’t turn your back on me, Magnus! I can give you valuable information! I can help you win this
battle!’
Ultra Magnus froze. ‘Well’
‘Make me an offer, yes’
Quark tiptoed down blinding white corridors, a Fullstasis games-board under his arm. The medcentre
felt like an enamel maze, all minty molars and winking wisdoms. He paused at the main terminus
and peered down the only darkened passageway; it looked out of place, as if a root canal had withered and
died. This was where the new intensive care ward would have been, had work not ground to a halt after
the assassination attempt. Discarded hand-drills and portable path-blasters leant against metal walls still
smudged with shadow. Fences made from spare recharge slabs gave the tunnel an alluring, out-of-bounds
ambience.
First Aid had asked for the drilling to be postponed until Rodimus was ‘out of the woods’, a human
expression that Quark, who had only ever read about Earth (oh, and seen a bootleg of Huffer’s homemade
vid-reel, Mudball), did not understand. Rev-Tone had joined the more morbid patients in nicknaming the
extension ‘Rodimus Ward’, pre-empting what many saw as the inevitable.
Quark walked on, trying not to think of his leader’s condition in case, in some small, unexplainable
way, it made things worse. Up ahead, however, was the maximum-security medi-vault, a spherical, superdense
containment unit built into AMC1: an air bubble in concrete. Rodimus was inside. He sidled up to
the vault ‘door’ – more of a vaguely circular outline etched into the ten-metre thick titanium wall.
The two guards, Boss and Sprocket, ignored him as he confronted the rectangle of nuke-strength
plexi, just above eye level, and peered inside. Prime looked hyper-real: too bright, too sharply defined. Kup
perched on a chair by his side, a casebook study of rage and tension.
He backed away, ashamed at his voyeurism, and felt something sharp tap his thigh. Throwback smiled
up at him from a stretcher. ‘Hey, Quark. You wouldn’t kick a robot when he’s down, would you’
Quark shrugged apologetically as Search and Rescue carried the patient into the nearby ward. ‘Are
you alright’ he called, catching up.
‘The tests make me weak. I need time to recuperate before the next lot.’
‘Why do you need so many You seemed okay before…’
‘Perceptor’s looking into the side effects of pan-dimensional travel. Apparently there are a lot of
things even he can’t figure out.’
Throwback was loaded onto his circuit slab and seemed to fall off-line instantly.
‘Perceptor’s going to kill him one of these days,’ said Rev-Tone from the other side of the ward.
Quark set the Fullstasis board on Rev-Tone’s slab-side table. ‘I’m sure Perceptor knows what he’s
doing.’
Rev-Tone’s condition had improved. For one thing, there were markedly less energon feeds
burrowing under his skin. As Quark slid into the visitor’s seat he nudged an empty Hypergrade vial that had
been stashed from sight.
‘I just saw Rodimus Prime,’ Quark whispered. ‘He looks awful – just lying there as if he’s been dead
for days. And Kup’s sitting beside him like he’s wondering when it’s polite to leave or something, and—’
‘Calm down, Quark. You’re twitching again.’ Rev-Tone waited until Quark had clicked his head
back into place. ‘Any news from above’
‘Everything’s ground to a halt. The squad’s been inactive since the troop inspection; all orders have
been frozen until further notice. It’s the same with every team. Nothing’s moving anymore.’
‘Hasn’t anyone spoken to Prowl’
‘Yes. Hoist, Vroom, Sideswipe, Scattershot. All of the squad leaders, in fact. He keeps telling them to
wait. Still, it can’t be easy being commander.’