"It's really not difficult to determine that, " Perceptor said to me, answering Susan's question. "Do you remember Susan telling us that the shard was in her breast pocket when she leaned you against her as she checked your back for injuries? Your body was in flux then as it started its transformation. You were suffused with waves of that AllSpark energy, and Susan's shard resonated with that energy. Your body in short, absorbed it, or maybe it was the one that bored into you, or maybe both. It doesn't really matter. All that matters is that it ended up inside you, integrating itself into your changing body."
I looked at him aghast. "What will it do to me?" I asked.
"I don't know, RC."
-----
After that discovery, Perceptor couldn't concentrate and continue with his briefing. Instead, he and Ratchet did every kind of test they could think of, but they didn't reveal anything more except that, aside from its irregular shape, it seemed to function as just another energy node, and it was inescapably intimately linked to my insides via the energon strands. Perceptor thought that the best course was to take it out but Ratchet nixed that. Given how it was linked to me now, taking it out would probably kill me.
Two days later, Susan and I had come to some life decisions. We had decided to live together. There were some practical considerations, though, like work. But Susan was happy to relocate to Washington State and to find a new job in Tacoma or even Lakewood, though the best would be something in Seattle. I asked her about her plans of going national but she said she could still do that from Seattle.
As for me, I was settling in as a member of NEST’s new command staff. By this time, my being recalled to active service by the Secretary of Defense was now official, and I was again a Captain, permanently assigned to the NEST command staff in their HQ in Fort Lewis. They also set me up in my own house (actually a converted warehouse) about a twenty-minute drive from the fort, plus they modified my convertible Ford F150 pickup and brought it over. Guess they were anxious for me to settle in.
My regular day would usually be made up of training sessions with my team, called "X Flight," and the Autobots, and planning and strategy sessions with the rest of NEST. The motor pool, with help from the quartermaster's, had modified the driver and passenger's seats of my F150 so it could be adjusted to fit my now-larger frame.
From then on, my life would start to develop a routine, and I found that I was adapting to it very easily. What was difficult was trying to live life as a female. But to be of credit to Susan, I did my best to comport myself as a lady.
As for Susan, she had quickly decorated our new place in one twenty-four-hour marathon decorating session, aided and abetted by Sergeant Daryl Boone and his colleague Arlene. Betty helped, too. And at the end of the day, we now had a new, fully decorated place.
We were also told that Susan wasn’t needed full time anymore, and could return home and continue on with her life. She did take up her interrupted routine again, except that she was able to negotiate a slightly less than a five-day workweek with her station. She now commuted between work and Washington State; she'd leave our house Monday morning, and would be back at her job by around one PM. (Her actual travel time would be less than an hour because she would hitch a ride on the military ballistic courier jet NEST would regularly send to and from DC and Fort Lewis. But because of the three-hour time difference, it would be past noon when she arrived.)
On Friday, she'd leave at about 7:30, after her nightly news program, and because of the time difference, she would actually be back at around six PM, technically an hour and a half before she left.
Anyway, it worked for us. Even so, Susan had been checking around for vacancies among the Seattle network TV and cable affiliates. When they found out, all the stations made a bid for her. But her own home network made their own bid and sweetened the package by offering her a "special correspondent" network position, covering science and technology, working out of the Seattle affiliate office. Of course, Susan took the position, and she would begin the following month.
But, for now, she still had her old job, and would regularly shuttle to and from the base.
Betty was therefore unable to go with Susan, so she stayed with me. Perceptor explained to me that my place was actually Wheelie’s old place which he gave up when he moved back onto the base. As such, it was deliberately made to be Autobot-friendly - that is to say, our place was very large and was quite roomy with over-sized doors - an Autobot wouldn't have trouble moving around in it. So Betty fit just fine. Only the bigger Autobots like Ultra Magnus wouldn't be able to get in.
Betty had her own room, and she outfitted it in a very feminine way. Not surprisingly, her tastes were very similar to Susan’s in terms of the furniture and fittings, curtains and colors. She also had a closet in there, and I’ve been itching to see what she kept in there since she doesn’t really need clothes.
She had a comm system and a large entertainment center in her room, as well as a large Autobot-friendly sofa set, or what looked like a sofa set except they were actually uncushioned, over-large heavy-duty wood benches made to resemble a five-piece sofa set – each sofa able to fit three Autobots the size of Perceptor. They were artfully arranged around a large coffee table, although, for a human, the table was more the size of a dining table. In the middle was a decorative bowl filled with colored-crystal decorative apples and other fruit. I found that very cute – I guess they were the Autobot equivalent of wax fruit. Betty also kept about half a dozen human-sized stackable plastic chairs in a corner, as well as a plastic cooler full of juice boxes and snacks underneath her workbench, just for us.
Off in the corner of her room was a device that looked like an over-large soda machine which, I was told, was actually an energon station that produced Lucite cubes of energon. I saw Autobots sipping from these Lucite cubes like people drinking from juice boxes. Beside it was what looked like a water dispenser with a five-gallon water bottle full of cranberry-colored liquid, and beside it a small rollaway table with big tumbler-sized glasses. Betty told me that the liquid was actually hi-test gasoline. Well…
Naturally, there was no bed, but there was a large, cleared area where Betty can park if she wanted to rest. Right nearby was her hobby area. It seemed Betty was like Susan in her hobbies, too, and she dabbled in watercolor painting and clay sculpting. Unfortunately, her skill levels with these hobbies were the same as Susan’s. And Susan doesn’t paint or sculpt well…
-----
As for the rest of the place, Susan and I (mostly Susan, actually) have outfitted the rest of the warehouse… I mean, house, with every convenience we could think of. Our place has everything. And Susan and I had almost all of our stuff moved over, although we left most of our furniture behind. We opted to get new furniture. Our kitchen also had all the conveniences, and it allowed us to indulge our need to cook. And Susan had brought over her fabulous entertainment center, which we put in our living area. My own TV stuff wasn’t as grand, but it was good enough for our bedroom.
Susan had monopolized a big chunk of our bedroom’s closet-space, naturally, but I got one of my own (about half the size of hers) to hold all of my new duds, which had come trickling in for the past few days. I didn’t know what half of them were, much less how to wear them properly, but I’m sure Suzy will show me when she came home this Friday.
As for casual stuff, Arlene and Sergeant Boone was able to get me almost everything I needed, including my military stuff.
As for the bath, I found that Perceptor was correct – I never needed to go to the toilet anymore, but I still pretended to when Suzy was around. I didn’t want to unduly worry her. As for my seemingly bottomless appetite, it had started to peter out, as Perceptor said it would. But in its place, I felt a little restless and agitated. Perceptor said that my energy stores had started to become saturated and I would need to find out how to siphon out excess energy soon. He promised he’d help me fix that problem later.
In the meantime, I had my duties. At the moment, I was helping Rodimus with the interrogation of our five new prisoners.
-----
In terms of rank, in NEST’s combined command roster, my list showed that Rodimus had an equivalent rank of major, so I took my lead from him in our “interrogation.”
“Hello, Captain,” Rodimus said as I entered the interview room.
“Good morning, sir,” I said. “How go the, ummm, interrogations?” I came in and sat beside him. Betty, or rather, Bumblebee as the Autobots preferred to call her, followed.
I glanced at the notes he had in front of him, but I couldn’t understand the writing. Rodimus noted my difficulty and pressed a couple of buttons on his tablet.
“Here you go, Captain,” he said, and handed it to me. The writing had been translated to English, and I could understand it now.
“Thanks,” I said.
“It’s no problem. As soon as the rest of your system analytics kick in, you’ll be able to translate Cybertronian and other Quintesson-based glyphs into any other language you prefer yourself.”
“Analytics?”
“Perceptor and Ratchet told us about your… condition.”
“What do you mean?”
“That you’re a Cybertronian, or will soon be. In the meantime, we’ll help while you transition.”
I sighed. It seemed all the Autobots knew about me already. “Thanks, Rodimus. Now, what’s next?”
“Well, as you read, I haven’t been too lucky with my first interview. Let’s see how we go with this next one.”
Another of the “statues” was ushered in. This one looked like an animated version of a statue of a very pretty girl. She seemed to be made from shiny, white marble, and had a very slight figure. Her dimensions were very close to a human’s although slightly tall for a girl – she must be around six feet tall. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved button-down shirt and jeans. If she wasn’t marble, I would have assumed she was just any pretty girl.
I clicked a flashing link on Rodimus’ tablet and it showed me a profile of the girl in front of us. She used to be Katherine Jackson, a personal assistant working in DC, and disappeared while on her way to meet some friends in Gaithersburg a few weeks ago. Her form was traced to an un-named statue by an early-twentieth century Italian sculptor named Emilio Fiaschi. The statue was just called “Veiled Female Nude.” Ms. Jackson ended up looking very pretty.
Per Rodimus’ readings, she had the highest energy levels, too, and was the most reactive of the five. She stood and looked at us nervously. Around her wrists were things that looked like manacles. I was told they were handcuffs designed for Autobots.
“Sit down, Miss,” I said. “No need to be nervous. We won’t hurt you.” Rodimus reached out to her wrists and took off the cuffs.
I never even knew a statue could have facial expressions. She looked at us, rubbing her wrists. “You could have fooled me,” she responded in a high, melodious voice. Her voice didn’t match the image I had in my mind. After all, she was a sculpture, or at least looked like one. I had assumed she’d have rough voice. Her voice sounded like a young girl’s, nervous and scared. “You guys were trying to kill me.”
“Listen, you,” Rodimus grated. “You and your friends had been going berserk and killing people. What did you want us to do?”
“My friends?”
“The other statues!”
“Statues?”
Rodimus sighed in frustration. “Have you tried looking in the mirror?”
She looked at us confusedly. “What?”
-----
Rodimus and I reported to General Lennox and Ultra Magnus.
“Sir,” I said, as I saluted the general and Magnus.
“At ease, Ron, I mean RC. Sit down. So, have you had better luck?”
“Afraid not, sir. Although we’ve uncovered the fact that the prisoners have no recollection of what happened. Or rather, their recollection of past events are a little confused. And incomplete.”
“In what way?”
“They recall being captured by us, but they don’t recall anything about how they were transformed and what they’ve been doing since then. It’s like they just recovered their memory.”
“So they remember who they were?”
“Yes, now they do. They just seem to be average people that were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they seem to have forgotten everything since they were zapped. They’re very, very confused at how they were turned into their current forms.”
“How were they able to operate the way they did, then, if they had amnesia?”
I shrugged. “Rodimus and I have a theory, and Perceptor concurs that our theory’s plausible.”
“What theory is that?”
“That the Venus de Milo entity had been exercising control over them since she transformed them. But with her absence, it seems that they have reverted back to their old human personas.”
Rodimus nodded. “We’ve also been having Perceptor and Ratchet do some periodic scans of the prisoners,” he said. “As far as Perceptor can tell, they are in the same state as RC was a few days ago, in a transitional state between a biological and a cybernetic entity. But, instead of a continuing transformation until completion, their transformation seemed to have stopped midway.”
“They haven’t completed their transformation?”
“No, sir - that’s the problem. They haven’t.”
“What are the implications if the transition is incomplete?”
“Perceptor says their present forms are not viable. Their forms should degrade in a few days.”
“But, as far as we can tell, they’ve been in these forms for at least two weeks…”
Rodimus nodded at that. “I know, sir. Ratchet thinks that the Venus de Milo entity was channeling the energy from her mini-cube to constantly re-energize their forms and prevent mechanical disarticulation. But when she left them…”
“What is ‘mechanical disarticulation, anyway?’” Lennox asked.
I answered that. “I was told, General, that mechanical disarticulation is the Autobot equivalent of starvation for humans. For humans, the severe deficiency in caloric intake will eventually result in the cessation of life. For Cybertronians, without energon, it’s the same. However, for Autobots, they literally fall apart. What allows them to transform is that they can control the interlocking of the various components of their bodies. But, without energy, they wouldn’t be able to anymore, and literally fall apart prior to ceasing to live. I am told it’s a very painful and horrible kind of death for an Autobot.
“For these, ummm, ‘in-between’ forms, they have no means of absorbing energon or any other forms of energy. Their bodies are incomplete. It’s like they were born without stomachs or intestinal tracts, and need regular blood transfusions.”
Lennox looked at me with an inscrutable expression.
“Are you saying these people will die soon without the Venus creature?”
“Yes, sir, unless…”
“Unless we can somehow use the mini-cube and re-energize them ourselves,” Rodimus continued.
“Have Perceptor and Ratchet found out how the mini-cube works?” Ultra Magnus asked.
Rodimus shook his head no.
“What could go wrong if we try this out?”
“Overload. The subject can detonate like a bomb. Or she could just burn up.”
“But we have to try, sir,” I said, “otherwise, these people will still die. Better to try.”
“How much time do they have?”
“Ratchet says five days at best,” Rodimus said, “but it’s closer to four. Except for Ms. Jackson. She has about two weeks’ worth of energy. We suspect she was transformed more recently, and therefore has more energy remaining.”
Ultra Magnus looked at Lennox. Lennox nodded.
“All right,” Magnus said, “you are cleared to try. Explain the situation to these people, and ask for one volunteer. If it works, then you try with the others.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rodimus and I left and went to Perceptor’s lab. We explained what we intended to do and they agreed. While they got the mini-cube from isolation storage and prepared a testing chamber, we went to the holding area for the prisoners.
We found them in their individual cells, confused and very scared.
We went to the one I first talked to – Ms. Jackson.
When we went into her cell, she nervously stood up. I gestured for her to relax.
“Relax, Ms. Jackson. Sit down,” I said. “Sorry to bother you. We just wanted give you some more information.”
She sat down by the table. The chair squeaked ominously with her weight, but it held.
The girl sighed. “Thanks… Well… so you have more information, I hope, that can explain how I ended up this way?” She gestured down at her body.
“We think we do. We’re still gathering more information to come out with a more complete picture. Anyway, how are you feeling, Ms. Jackson?”
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“Well, I feel weird. I’m a fucking statue, you know!”
“Other than that.”
“Well, I feel very hungry. But I don’t know if I can eat given how I am now.”
“Let me see what I can get you. Anything you’re in the mood for?”
“Hell, anything will do. Burger and fries? And maybe a Pepsi?”
“Coming up.” I brought out my phone, called Betty and asked her to bring in a large cheeseburger, fries and a soda, as well as a one-unit energon cube. These were one of the things we wanted to try as an alternative to the cube, after all. Might as well.
I clicked off. “It’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Miss. I’m starving. So what’s a pretty girl like you doing, hanging around with the Autobots?” She smiled at me in that way that I have come to recognize now. I guess I’ll never really get used to being a girl.
I shrugged. “Just trying to lend a hand.”
Betty came in and left several burgers and fries on the table, as well as a can of diet Pepsi and one shimmering cube full of a glowing, golden-amber liquid.
“Great,” the girl said, and reached for the burgers and fries. “Thanks.”
She unwrapped a burger and ate it in seconds flat. She reminded me of myself after I woke up from my own transformation. She finished everything in less than five minutes, opened the Pepsi and drained the can quickly. She belched.
“Excuse me,” she giggled.
“No problem. Are you feeling any better?”
“Not really,” she said. “It’s like I didn’t eat anything.”
Rodimus and I looked at each other. He nodded to me and gestured to the energon cube.
“Well, how about you try this,” I said, and handed her the cube.
She took the cube and looked at it.
“What do I do with this?” she asked.
“Put one of the corners to your lips and drink from it like a glass of juice.”
“What is it? Why is it glowing?”
“It’s something called ‘energon.’ It’s like, ummm, an energy drink for Autobots.”
She lifted it to her lips and drank. I saw her throat working, so she was clearly swallowing. In moments the little Lucite cube was drained and she put it down.
“That tasted pretty good,” she said. “Better than the burgers, actually.”
“Feel any better?”
“Actually, yes. It’s like it took the edge off my hunger. But it’s still there.”
I brought up Rodimus’ tablet and looked at the screen.
“You’re right – your energy level has gone up by two thirds of a percent.”
“But she drank one whole cube,” Rodimus said. That’s usually enough energy for about a week.”
I nodded. “You’re right. What could that mean?”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure Ratchet and Perceptor will know.”
The girl reached out and pulled on my sleeve. “So, you said you guys have information?”
I nodded, and looked to Rodimus, and he explained what we knew. As he explained, the girl in marble started to look more and more scared. I reached out and held her hand. It felt very heavy and smooth, but didn’t feel quite like marble. Somehow I could feel, through the touch of her hand, that she was a person, not a statue. A very scared person.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson,” I said. “This shouldn’t have happened. We’re doing our best to fix this.”
She started sobbing. I leaned over and gave her a hug.
“Can anything even be done?” she sobbed.
“We took the mini-cube from that thing that made you this way. We can try, ummm, recharging you, and that would give us time to change you back.”
“How will you do that?”
“Like I said, we have that cube from that statue that transformed you. We will shoot electricity into the cube and cause it to discharge. We can let that discharge course through you, and hopefully that will charge you back up.”
“Will that even work?”
“We don’t know. But, frankly, Ms. Jackson, this is our only choice at the moment.”
She let out a sigh.
“All right. Let’s do it.” She wearily stood up.
“Wait,” I said, and pulled her back down.
“We’re going to try it on someone else first,” I said. “The reason we picked someone else was because you still had a few more days’ worth of energy. We picked the one that had the least amount of energy left. It’s a risk, after all, so we picked the one with the least to lose.”
“But…”
“If it doesn’t work, we could actually cause an explosion.”
She paled. Even through the marble, I could see her fear.
“Explosion?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Okay…”
-----
We explained the same thing to the other four, and explained to the one that looked like that statue of Rodin called “The Thinker,” and said that we selected him as our guinea pig.
We explained to him the reasons why, and the possible things that could happen. He listened patiently, and agreed.
His name was Alex Smith. He was a retired high school principal, and was used to making decisions. All he asked was that we contact his wife, in case what we’re going to do wasn’t successful.
We walked out with him and went to a big pickup truck parked outside. The two of us got onboard and Rodimus transformed into a black and purple hotrod right beside our truck while Betty transformed into her car form. We then drove to a big warehouse-sized building, and we escorted him inside.
In there was a big empty space, almost as big as the Encounter Arena. In the middle was a small metal stand surrounded by small chrome spheres that looked exactly like the spherical terminals of a Tesla coil spark gap transformer.
Perceptor and Ratchet were inside.
Solemnly, they shook hands with Mr. Smith and escorted him to a chair facing the stand.
The man that looked like a statue sat down and patiently waited for the Autobots to finish strapping his arms and legs to the chair.
“Good luck, Mr. Smith,” I called.
He smiled his thanks and sat calmly as he watched the Autobots work.
Ratchet brought out the mini-cube and mounted it on the stand. Next, he turned off the safeties for the chrome emitters. The safeties looked like old-style power breakers, and Ratchet had to use both his hands to close the large switches.
He then walked back with us to an observation room, where we stood behind a glass window at least two feet thick, and looked into the testing chamber. Behind us were several humans and Autobots, including Lennox and Magnus.
Perceptor leaned over a microphone on the console.
“We’re about to start the test. Are you ready in there, Mr. Smith?”
“Yes,” he said. “I sincerely hope this works.”
“Good luck, sir. Here we go.”
Perceptor nodded to Ratchet, and Ratchet pushed a button.
Blue-white spiderwebs of electricity started coming out of the electrodes and hit the cube. A deafening sound filled the chamber and all of us covered our ears. As more and more electricity hit the cube, tiny golden spiderweb-like writing and symbols start to glow on the cube.
As soon as this happened, Ratchet and Perceptor shook hands. I am told later that, when these appeared, it meant that the cube has been “primed.” The intact AllSpark would do the same so, to Ratchet and Perceptor, like the intact AllSpark, this meant the mini-cube was ready to be triggered, too.
Ratchet turned off the electrical generators and signaled Perceptor.
Perceptor pulled down a lever and an energy blaster mounted on the wall in the chamber fired into the cube.
That final kick of energy triggered what felt like a bomb going off inside the chamber. We all reflexively ducked but, after a moment, we peeked into the chamber. We saw Mr. Smith still sitting in the metal chair, but he was slumped to the side.
I rushed forward and put a hand against the glass. The glass was very warm but was still intact – no cracks or anything like that. I looked in and couldn’t see much – all I could see was the guy sitting in the chair, and he wasn’t moving.
I rushed to the airlock door, spun the pressure lock and opened it.
I rushed through and ran to Mr. Smith.
When I saw him, I was sure he was dead. Parts of him were glowing red, like pieces of coal in a barbecue pit. His face was frozen in a grimace of pain, and his hands were curled into fists. I couldn’t believe he was gone.
The others rushed after me, and they saw me standing in front of the poor Mr. Smith.
Perceptor came and knelt by the chair. He waved a device over him and the machine made a warbling kind of sound. Perceptor looked down at me and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, RC. He’s gone.”
I nodded sadly, and watched as they worked on Mr. Smith while Ratchet went to check the cube.
They gently lifted Mr. Smith’s body, perhaps to do an autopsy or something, and I stayed in the chamber, looking down.
“What will we do now, Perceptor?”
“I don’t know, RC.” He looked down at me sadly, turned and followed the others as they brought poor Mr. Smith out.
Betty stood by me.
“We should go, RC,” Betty gently said to me. “It’s time to pick up Ms. Susan.”
I knew that Betty was reminding me more to break me out of my mood rather than anything else.
“Okay, Bee,” I said.
I turned to Lennox. “Sir,” I saluted, and made to leave.
“Where are you going, Captain?”
“I think I’ll knock off for the day, sir. Bumblebee and I will be going over to the landing strip. We’re picking up Ms. Blu.”
“Okay, Captain. Carry on.”
-----
I stood by the side of the runway, leaning against Betty in her car form and watched the high-speed ballistic shuttle land.
A few minutes later, Susan came out of the rear loading ramp, pushing yet another pallet full of stuff in front of her. She waved back to the crew of the plane and, when she saw me, she hurried.
“RC!” she said happily and jumped into my arms.
I easily lifted her off her feet and hugged her, making sure not to hug her too strongly.
“I missed you,” she whispered into my ear, and peppered my face with butterfly kisses.
I kissed her back, and pretty soon, I had her breathless. I let her up in a while, grinning.
“Whew! I needed that,” she said. “Hello, my love.”
“Hi, Suzy. Welcome home.” I gestured to the pallet. “So what’s this?”
“This? Well, this is the last of my stuff. With this, I have officially moved out of my old place. That means that I will be staying in a hotel for the next two weeks until my new job starts.”
“Okay.”
I put her down and started loading stuff inside Betty’s trunk and backseat. While I was doing so, she went over to Betty and hugged her on her hood. They'd been away from each other for five days now. Guess she missed Betty.
After I was done and had pushed the empty cart to the side, Susan was still on Betty’s hood, and it appeared they were chatting.
“Hey, you two. Enough of that. Let’s get outa here and you girls can chat some more at home.”
Susan gave Betty a kiss on the hood and went over to the driver’s door. I got in the other side and we left for our new place.
-----
Over dinner, I told Suzy what had happened. She could see how I felt, and gave me a hug. Betty gave me a sympathetic look, and told me no one could have done anything.
I knew that, but it didn’t really help.
We silently ate our Chinese take-out dinner while Betty finished off her hi-test. But Suzy wanted to change the mood and started talking about her week, filling it with a lot of anecdotes and funny stories about the goings-on in a TV station.
The way she talked about her work made it seem like it would be fun working in a TV station. I guess it could be – I’ve seen her with her staff.
I had to smile and wonder how lucky I was to have her in my life.
-----
I couldn’t sleep that night, and looked at Susan as she slept. I loved her so much it hurt, but in a good kind of way. I gave her a kiss and slipped out of bed. I still couldn’t take my mind off what had happened.
The nightie that Suzy insisted that we both wear to bed was a little flimsy for me, so I decided to put on the little gossamer robe that Suzy says is called a bed jacket, and walked downstairs to the living room. I got a bottle of bourbon from our little bar, filled a bowl with ice, got a drinking glass and parked myself on the living room couch. I sat in the dark, nursed my drink and thought of what had happened today.
As a soldier or a cop, one has to get used to the inevitability of having to kill someone. I guess I’ve made my peace with that, but what I haven’t gotten a handle on yet is when you have to helplessly stand by and watch someone die. I didn’t know Alex Smith, and only knew what I read in his bio. Still, I found myself tearing up.
“Such a stupid waste,” I thought to myself as I sipped my bourbon. I suppose if he was a complete stranger, I probably wouldn’t feel as bad, but I'd talked to him just before he died. I'd held his hand.
I wondered what his family was doing right now – probably sleeping, like I should be, too. I wondered if his wife already knew. Probably not. They’ll probably be telling her tomorrow, or maybe on Monday.
There was a tissue dispenser on the coffee table and I took a couple of tissues to wipe my eyes. If only there was something we could have done.
“Good evening, Captain McKenzie,” someone behind me spoke. I knew who it was so I didn’t need to turn.
“Hi, Bee,” I said. “What are you doing up?” I hastily wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
“I don’t exactly sleep, Captain. Autobots don’t need it.”
“Ahhh.”
She walked to the front of the couch I was on. I gestured for her to sit down, and she sat on the floor in front and to the right of me. I noticed she was carrying her own drink – her favorite sports bottle full of what undoubtedly was gasoline.
“I was actually wondering about that,” she said. “Do you even need sleep, Captain?”
“Oh, Bee. I told you before - I’d prefer if you don’t call me Captain.”
“But I find it… awkward to call you RC. You are, after all, Ms. Susan’s spouse and my commanding officer.”
I smiled at that. “I’m fine you calling me Captain when there are Autobots or military folks around. I meant that, when we’re not at work, you can call me RC.”
“Thank you, RC. I will do so from now on.”
You’re welcome. Did you and Suzy have a good visit?”
“Very much so. I missed Ms. Susan. It is very pleasant to talk with her again.”
I nodded and sipped my drink. Betty copied me and sipped her hi-test, too. That made me smile. She was acting like a little sister or something.
“You didn’t answer my question, though, RC. Do you need sleep?”
“Well, yes, although not as much as before. I guess my changes are still happening. So, yes, I still do need sleep.”
“So why are you awake now?”
I kept silent.
“Were you thinking of Herr Smith?”
I looked out the picture window on my right, which looked out to the little copse of trees beside our place.
“You could not have done anything, RC,” she continued. “And, if Perceptor and Ratchet did not try, he would surely have died tonight. At least they were able to preserve his dignity instead of allowing him to pass away via mechanical disarticulation.”
“I know that, but, still…”
She went to me, and gave me a hug. And that broke my control. My tears flowed freely and cried on Betty’s shoulder.
“I shouldn’t do this on you,” I said, and giggled. “You might rust.”
Betty chuckled at that – the first time I heard her laugh. It was a tinkling kind of giggle – very close to Suzy’s bell-like laughter.
We stayed like that for a while, and Betty was patient to let me work out my grief myself. When I felt better, I gave her a squeeze around her neck one last time, and let go.
“Thank you, Bee,” I whispered.
“You are always welcome, RC.”
We stayed in the living room the rest of the night, sipping on our drinks and just chatting pleasantly. Betty had a lot of questions, and I couldn’t help but think of a curious little girl asking things. I did my best and tried to answer her questions as completely and objectively as I could.
And as we talked, my mind was still thinking of the problem. And an idea came to me.
“Bee, let me confirm something.”
“Yes, RC?”
“Do you remember when that girl in marble – Katherine Jackson – drank the energon?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Didn’t her energy levels increased?”
“Yes, but only by a miniscule amount. Two thirds of a percent.”
“Well, that’s nothing to sneeze at, especially if we have no other alternative. Do you think it would be all right to give Perceptor a call?”
“Why would it not be all right?”
“Well, it’s the middle of… oh, right. Okay, give me a minute to change and leave a note for Suzy.”
I rushed upstairs and changed into shorts, sneakers, a tanktop and a bomber jacket. I left a little note on the bedside table explaining that Betty and I were on our way to meet Perceptor, but would be right back. I rushed down, but stopped myself, remembering to put on a bra. I went back up, hurriedly put on a t-shirt and bra, grabbed my forgotten purse, gave Suzy a kiss and rushed back down.
The MPs at the gate passed us through without any questions as they recognized Betty. We then walked to the NEST main building and continued on to Perceptor’s lab. The few MPs patrolling recognized both Betty and me and just saluted and allowed us to pass. One of them wolf-whistled at me, which got him thumped on the head by his buddy.
“What’re you doing, man!” he said. “That’s a captain!”
“But she’s a hottie, dude! Smokin’ hot!”
“She can get your ass court-martialed for insubordination and disrespecting an officer.”
“But, man!”
“She’s also the personal friend of the general.”
“That doesn’t change the facts, man!”
“Oh, I give up!”
Betty and I didn’t hear the rest of their discussion when we turned the next corridor.
I looked at Betty and, after a second, we simultaneously burst out laughing.
In a few minutes, we were in Perceptor’s lab.
“Perceptor?” I called. “Are you here?”
“Captain McKenzie?” Perceptor answered. “What are you doing here at this time of night?” He came out from behind a bank of computers. Apparently, he was working.
“Sorry to bother you, but Bumblebee and I were chatting, and we came up with an idea.” (I remembered to use Betty’s Autobot-preferred name.) “We wanted to tell you and see what you thought about it.”
Betty shook her head.
“Don’t believe her, sir,” Betty said. “The captain thought of this idea herself.”
Perceptor smiled at that and turned to me.
“So what’s your idea, Captain?”
“Well, remember when that girl, Ms. Jackson, took the energon?”
“Yes?”
“After she did, her energy level went up, right?”
“But only by an infinitesimal amount. Hardly enough to matter.”
“Two-thirds of a percent, right?”
“Yes.”
“In terms of actual time, how much extra time did that give Ms. Jackson?”
“Well, it’s impossible to calculate that. It depends on the individual.”
“Can’t you take an educated guess?”
Perceptor nodded, pressed a few buttons on the console beside him and some numbers came up on the big screen. The figures were in Cybertronian glyphs. I shook my head. It felt like I should be able to read it – it was like when you’re trying to recall the name of a person you haven’t seen in a long time. Colloquially, the meaning of the words was “on the tip of my tongue.” It was a weird feeling, to say the least.
“On the top are Ms. Jackson’s stats from yesterday - her height, specific mass, that kind of thing. The next set of figures is the typical number of distribution nodes of an Autobot of her size and mass, and the amount of energy that an Autobot of that configuration consumes. The next set is the projected number of joules Ms. Jackson has been expending given her incarceration and the minimum amount of activities she’s been doing.”
“Ahhh. Sort of like her height and weight, her BMI, and then the calories that she’s been using.”
“Huh?”
Betty leaned forward and they had a high-speed conversation that sounded like twittering birds. I had another “on the tip of my tongue” moment – a feeling that I should understand them.
“Ahhh.” Perceptor said to Betty, nodding, and then turned back to me. “You’re absolutely correct, Captain. Anyway, using these figures…” he gestured at the screen. “These give us the following.” He pressed a button and a new set of glyphs came up.
“The computer estimates that the zero point six-six-six percent energy top-up has given her an extra two hours.”
“So it did help.”
“But, Captain, that’s practically a useless amount of energy.”
“Not if you’re trying to stave off death. Even that’s worth something. Anyway, does that mean, if we give her one energon cube every two hours, she’d be fine?”
“Well, probably not. Clearly, she isn’t able to absorb the bulk of the energon. And any un-absorbed energon would be detrimental to her internals in time. Something analogous to a human drinking something that is too hot. But…”
From his expression, we could see that he was on to something.
“Yes?” I said.
“But, what if we’re able to dilute the energon somehow so it’s less… ‘dense,’ and allow her to more readily absorb it?”
“’Dense?’” Betty asked.
“A figure of speech, Bumblebee.”
“What kind of liquid can you even use to dilute the energon?” I asked.
“Well, energon is a kind of plasma, Captain. It’s not an actual liquid. The little plastic cubes that we use to contain them are actually impregnated with a special ferromagnetic material that reflects the plasma’s energy upon itself, almost like an electromagnetic bottle. Otherwise, the plastic would have been consumed in less than a nanosecond, and the energon would have melted everything around it. But, wait…”
He went back to his keyboard and started to furiously type on it. Betty and I remained quiet in order not to break his chain of thought.
In a few minutes, on the screen, we could see a picture of an elongated energon cube with a black cap on it that had a spout with a removable stopper. Beside it was a picture of a regular energon cube, and we could compare Perceptor’s modified cube with a regular cube. Beside the cap, it was as though it had been stretched so it wasn’t a cube anymore. In terms of height, it was stretched to about three times as tall. The best way I could describe it was that it looked like an energon equivalent of Betty’s sports bottle.
“There’s a regulator in the cap,” Perceptor explained, “powered by the energon, too, of course. And it would allow the energon to flow in a certain way – a ‘density’ that Ms. Jackson can readily absorb.”
“That’s great, Perceptor. When do you think you can have a prototype ready?”
“Maybe in a few hours.” He turned to me.
“Let’s change the subject. How are you doing, RC?” he asked.
“Pretty good. Though I’ve been feeling some things lately.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been very restless lately, and have been having trouble sleeping.”
“Are you feeling tired?”
“No. I just can’t seem to fall asleep.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, lately, I’ve been having moments of déjà vu. Mostly when I’m around Autobots.”
“Anything specific that triggers this?”
“Anything Autobot-related, I think.”
“Would it be when you’re trying to read Autobot, or listening to Autobot conversations?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “I think I understand. Care to get your daily checkup out of the way while you’re here?”
“Sure.”
He gestured to the examination table. I doffed my jacket but didn’t bother to take off anything else since I knew Perceptor’s equipment didn’t require me to, and jumped on top of the table.
The routine was familiar so I just relaxed while Perceptor’s equipment did its thing. After a while, Perceptor turned off the scanners.
“All done, RC.”
I jumped off and gave RC a friendly guy-hug. It was a little awkward since he was a little too tall.
“Thanks, Perceptor. I’ll see you later, then. Let me know about that new energon bottle.”
“Will do.”
Betty and I walked out of the building. I could have ridden in Betty in her car form but I preferred to walk to give me time to think.
I got the usual looks from the people around me again, and Betty, I mean Bumblebee, was getting her share of looks from the Autobots as well. We just shrugged them off and continued out.
We decided to go and get some takeout bagels and fixings, like cream cheese (of course), crumbed smoked salmon, bacon and prosciutto. I also got a couple of sliced fruit snow ices.
We were soon back home. The first thing I did was to put the ices and fixings in the fridge, and park the bagels near the toaster. Giving Betty a hug, I then went back upstairs and had a quick shower.
Suzy didn’t stir the whole time, and I was able to put on a fresh negligee. I slipped back into bed and was able to sleep.
I woke up with Suzy kissing me, and it was the best kind of alarm.
Sunlight was just coming through our bedroom window, so I knew it was about six or seven in the morning.
“Good morning, my love,” Suzy said, and I just had to kiss her back.
“Good morning,” I said. “Slept well, darling?”
“Like a log. I woke up earlier and you weren’t in bed. I saw your note, though. Everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I just had a thought about Ms. Jackson and the other statue people.”
I then explained that there was some hope now but it required Perceptor to finish his energon sports bottle quickly and test it.
We had a leisurely breakfast of bagels, coffee and juice while we made plans for the weekend. But in a while, we had a call from Wheelie who said that Ultra Magnus needed Bumblebee back at the camp. For what, he wasn’t too specific. Suzy and I looked at each other and smiled. Wheelie was into Betty big time, and Betty was trying to avoid him.
Suzy looked at Betty and shrugged helplessly.
“Sorry, honey,” she said. “Looks like we can’t spend the day together.”
Betty sighed. “All right. I better go, then.” She got up and turned to go.
We walked her out and watched her zoom away.
“Well…” I said.
“Well…” Suzy responded.
“Looks like we’re alone.”
She giggled. “Yes.”
“The kid will probably be busy the whole day, and you and I don’t need to be at work or anything...”
“Yes…”
“I’m sure you’re still tired from your flight? Maybe you need to rest up some more?”
“Maybe…”
“So, should I, ummm, bring you back to bed? And make sure you, ummm, relax?”
Suzy giggled, and reached out her arms to me.
“Carry me to bed then,” she said.
I grinned, stood up, effortlessly lifted her in my arms, walked back upstairs, and had a leisurely sensuous and beautiful morning in bed.