eugenesis-text

Siren raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘I am at your mercy, Nightbeat. My soul is laid bare.’ He
removed his helmet. ‘I don’t know what to say. I mean, you’re right – I don’t mind travelling to Aquaria,
not even if it means bunking up with Galvatron and the bounty hunter. I guess I’m just conscious that
we’re not coming back.’
‘What makes you say that’
‘You’re the detective; you work it out. We’re using the Trident to access the underwater base, yeah
So how the hell are we going to get to the surface again’
‘Siren!’ It was the third time Galvatron had bellowed, and he could no longer be ignored.
Siren backed away, into the hangar. ‘That’s why I don’t want to go, Nightbeat: I don’t want to die.’
‘Don’t talk like that.’ Nightbeat gave chase, ignoring the well wishers, mostly Autobots, who were
slapping Siren on the shoulder and jostling him on. ‘You’ll find a way to get back here, or I’ll—’ His words
were trampled by the belligerent crowd as Siren climbed into the cockpit, but he remained talking until
Fastlane and his runway team ring-fenced the onlookers and pushed them to the sidelines.
‘Everyone initiate audio dampeners,’ ordered Fastlane, and the message was Chinese whispered down
the line. The hangar doors opened, sickly blue superheat ringed the Trident’s thrusters and, with an
almighty crack of sound, the Quintesson ship took off. The echo reverberated through the Canyons,
pushing audio receptors to fadeout levels.
Optimus caught Nightbeat watching the hangar doors close. ‘They’ll be back, you know. All of
them.’
‘Let’s get this over with,’ said Nightbeat. He opened a comms-channel and ordered Hound,
Bluestreak, Centurion and Frenzy to board the Autoshuttle. ‘And this is the part where we say goodbye,
Optimus. I expect to see you within 24 hours, preferably in one piece, victorious, and guiding the Alliance
towards post-occupation peace.’
‘That’s a tall order, Nightbeat.’
‘You’re right. I guess I’ll just settle for just seeing you in one piece.’
Ultra Magnus was not happy with the cockpit arrangement.
It wasn’t so much the four-seat layout, which was all that could be expected given the size of a
standard Trident, but the fact that he was stuck in the back row, relegated to passenger status. Galvatron was
piloting, having somehow mastered the sinuous alien navipads and semi-organic geodiscs.
The ship’s only Decepticon was pushing the Trident onwards and upwards, barrelling towards orbit as
if Cybertron were about to explode. The ascent put pressure on the transwarp drive, which was sending
heavy tremors through the ship’s superstructure. The walls quivered like a weak and airless lung. Magnus
rubbed a grimy porthole on the windscreen’s nicotine sheen and realised that his instincts had deceived him.
They weren’t travelling vertically: they were travelling horizontally. ‘What the hell are you playing at,
Galvatron Why aren’t we heading for orbit’
‘A slight but essential detour,’ said Galvatron, ducking to avoid Ultra Magnus’s clumsy hand. ‘Touch
me and I’ll crash this thing, Magnus. I mean it.’
Death’s Head pulled Ultra Magnus back into his seat. ‘Let’s not do anything rash, eh’
‘Where are we going’ demanded Siren. ‘Polyhex’
‘Polyhex Are you mad, Autobot We’d be slaughtered.’
‘Galvatron, I order you to change course!’ Ultra Magnus clenched his fists. ‘Set us down
immediately.’
‘Shut up and be patient. We’re almost there.’
The gnarled Vosian cityscape rose up to catch the falling Trident. Landslides, graffiti and chopped-up
dark blue ruins sat and shimmered in the sun. Galvatron touched down, disembarked, and ran into the
ashcan jungle.
‘Coward!’ called Siren (but not too loudly). He looked at the others. ‘What now’
‘We need him, yes’
‘Although my every instinct suggests I do otherwise,’ said Ultra Magnus, ‘I’m going to bring him
back. You two stay put.’