eugenesis-text

‘Is a Metallikatoan manoeuvre. It was used against me only once, in the last ever State Games.’
‘You fought Megatron.’
‘And lost.’ Prime lowered his voice and broke eye contact. ‘I lost because he cheated – he floored me
using Kospen Menti. I would have beaten him, Nightbeat. I would have taken him down, but he cheated.’
‘I watched the fight from inside Maccadam’s,’ said Nightbeat, remembering the old days of sitting
alone in public places, trying to ignore the taunts and outright hostility (as if he had A/000007 branded
across his forehead). ‘I remember Megatron’s battle slogan – all that “one will stand, one will fall” rubbish.
You were taking the lead up until the last round, when he nearly took your leg off.’
‘Kospen Menti,’ said Optimus again, deep in thought. ‘The Prime Regent, that idiot Triax, should’ve
called a foul, but he was too busy gawping at what Megatron did next to care about a direct contravention of
Rule 184, sub-paragraph seven.’
Nightbeat stared at his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. “What happened next”, as Prime so flippantly
put it, had signalled the end of the Golden Age and the beginning – in so many ways – of the War.
‘A few weeks after the final,’ continued Optimus, ‘was the first major Decepticon rally. Having won
so many supporters after the States Games final, Megatron chose this occasion to unveil the Decepticon
Manifesto.’
‘Yes!’ said Nightbeat, happy to be back on familiar ground. ‘You rushed the stage in protest. I
remember seeing the newscast on the CyberNet. It took six guards to pin you down.’
‘I did storm the stage – but it wasn’t to denounce the Decepticon Manifesto. Hell, I’d not even read
the Manifesto all the way through – I didn’t even know that Megatron wanted to turn Cybertron into a
mobile battle station. I went to Tarn with the intention of humiliating Megatron – I wanted a rematch. I
wanted an audience of billions to see the record set straight. I know, I know – you’ve every right to look
horrified. Ironically, though, it was that incident that opened my eyes to the Decepticon menace. As I was
hauled backstage and handcuffed—’
‘Handcuffed! They arrested you!’
‘Yes… I had to spend three nights in the cells. Xaaron wiped my criminal record and debugged me
after I started displaying the Signs of Affinity. You can’t have a Matrix Bearer-to-be with a crim-chip in his
wrist.’ Optimus waited for Nightbeat’s incredulity to fade. ‘Anyway, the Enforcers took me backstage,
where I listened to Megatron’s famous “Peace Through Tyranny” speech. It was then I realised the full
horror of what was happening - of what was about to happen. My eyes were opened, as they say. Being
blessed with a Primal vision or being pushed into a justice wagon – it makes no difference, the result was
the same. This was my epiphany. I often wonder what would have happened if Prowl and the others hadn’t
managed to pin me down before I could throw the first punch.’
‘Something tells me you’d have joined the army eventually.’
‘Maybe. But I tell you, Nightbeat, sometimes I wish I’d made it across that stage.’
Afterburner trained his rifle on the entrance to AMC1 and called to the others. While his voice
bounced from wall to wall (‘They’re inside! They’re inside!’), his torch beam skirted the edge of a gaping
hole, inches above water level.
Prowl was first around the corner. ‘Shut up!’ he hissed, then spun around to halt the Autobots at his
heels.
‘What are we waiting for’ Kup demanded, pushing through the crowd. ‘They’ve beaten us to our
own hospital! Come on!’
‘Wait,’ said Prowl. ‘Let me think. I can’t work out how the Quintessons were able to overtake us
without—’
‘Who cares! Rodimus is in there!’ Kup splashed towards the entrance, weapon in hand.
‘There’s an alternate route,’ said Quark. ‘A topside crater that gives access to the northern tunnels.
Red Alert was going to have it sealed…’
Prowl tested the alignment of his rifle sights and waved the barrel at the frontline. ‘You six follow me.
The rest of you take cover.’
Kup followed Prowl’s team into the medcentre. Their rifle-mounted torches sent soft red target lines
down the corridor. Far away, beyond a dozen dead doorways, a lonely exit sign switched itself on and off.