eugenesis-text

the corner, then remembered Hound’s history lessons – these were the Pretenders Pincher, Splashdown and
Sky High.
‘Quite a motley crew you’ve assembled, Nightbeat,’ said Siren without smiling. ‘But I’m glad you’re
all here.’
‘Seems Delphi’s the only sanctuary we have left. Do you realise what’s happening out there’
A few minutes later, the main players were comparing notes in Delphi’s only office. Wheeljack
recounted the battle for Autobot City, the activation and relocation of Metroplex and the size and nature of
the Quintesson army. Siren used Raindance’s surveillance footage to detail the Polyhex massacre, the
concentration camp in Mt Edeus and the paralysing microchips. Finally – painfully – Nightbeat described
the holistic wormhole and gave an abridged version of his mission to ‘borrow’ the Optimus Prime of 1984.
‘Where is he now’ Siren asked, once the initial incredulity had passed.
‘I don’t know. He can’t be dead. God knows what would happen if the Quintessons killed him.’
‘Are we talking rifts’
‘Yeah. Space-time Rifts. Capital R. We have to get him back.’
‘If you ask me,’ said Wheeljack, ‘the whole idea of “borrowing” Optimus was insane in the first
place. He’s not some mekanid you can take off the shelf, plug in and discard when used. He was a real
person. He was Optimus Prime, for god’s sake!’
‘Is Optimus Prime. Present tense, please.’ Nightbeat rubbed his eyes in an affectation of tiredness.
‘And don’t think I didn’t raise these questions before accepting the mission.’
‘I’m sorry, Nightbeat. It’s just… I knew him, you know I served under him for years. Seeing him
again, in whatever context, feels somewhat unnatural.’
‘If it’s any consolation, I wish I’d destroyed the wormhole.’
‘What about Prowl What about Autobase’
‘No contact for three days,’ said Siren. ‘Last we heard, they were expecting a Quintesson attack. We
were told not to intervene. I think they might be dead.’
‘So we really are the only ones left. How long before they find us’
‘Fastlane intercepted a message from a Quintesson called Quantax. He said he had Rodimus Prime’s
body and gave us the co-ordinates of the Quintessons’ Polyhex HQ.’
‘They’ve obviously murdered Rodimus,’ said Wheeljack, surprised at how casually he spoke.
‘I agree. They’re trying to draw us out. It’s a trap.’
‘For you’ Nightbeat looked up. ‘Or for someone else’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘I’m guessing that Quantax didn’t send you his ransom message direct. He doesn’t know where
you’re hiding, so the transmission was wide. It was a global call-out, available to anyone. What if we aren’t
the only ones left What if this Quintesson is trying to pinpoint a different team of Autobots Have you
tried to make contact with Prowl, Siren’
‘Obviously. But they haven’t replied.’
‘The difficulty,’ said Wheeljack, ‘would lie in calling you without Quintesson detection. All we can
do is wait for the signal.’
The klaxons took them by surprise. The three of them dashed into a corridor that was already full of
Autobots running towards the foyer, ready to meet the Quintesson threat head-on. The hologramatic
entrance dissolved and the front-liners levelled their weapons; but there was no army outside, just one
robot. He was hobbling forward, oblivious to the danger.
‘Hold fire!’ screamed Nightbeat. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing!’ He broke into the open and
grabbed the half-dead intruder. ‘This is Optimus Prime! The real Optimus Prime! Drop your weapons and
get me some medical assistance! Now!’
How long does it take to raise your hand How long does it take to say ‘For’ or ‘Against’
These questions, in various permutations, had been filtering through Prowl’s microprocessors since
the moment he’d sat down and started setting data-boards straight. He had barely glanced at the latest
paperwork (which included a disturbing report from Throwback about viral labs in the bowels of the
Institute), preferring to stare into space. Palms flat on a spotless surface, spinal strut rigidly straight, he
eyeballed the office door and waited; waited for his men to decide his fate; waited for a decision on his