“Hey, Bee,” I called when we were near the prisoners’ holding cells. Betty broke away from a crowd of soldiers and Autobots near one of the cells.
“Good evening, Captain,” she said to me, and leaned down and gave Susan a quick hug.
“What’s happening, Bee?”
“We’re trying to get near Ms. Jackson but we have not been successful. It’s critical now. She is only about half an hour from mechanical failure.”
“How about the others?”
Perceptor came over.
“Not good, RC. They aren’t as bad as Ms. Jackson, but their energy levels are getting critical as well.”
I pointed to the device in his hand.
“Is that the energon bottle?”
“Yes.” He handed it over. It was half full of the glowing liquid, but the energon was more yellow than amber, though.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, wish me luck.”
I knocked on Katherine’s door, and slowly opened it.
“Ms. Jackson, it’s me, RC.”
I peeked into the room and found her crouching in the corner.
“Hey,” I said.
When she saw me, she leaped into my arms.
“RC! It’s you!”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m so scared - I have these aches and pains all over, and I feel so cold! I think I’m dying.”
I brought her to her bed.
“Get in bed and get some rest, honey.” I gave her Perceptor’s bottle. “Here, have a drink.”
“Thanks,” she said and casually took a swig.
“Listen, the guys outside are trying to figure out what’s wrong, and see if they can find a way to help you.”
“I don’t want to see them!”
“But, honey, they just want to help.”
“Will they be able to help me back to being normal?” she asked and took another swig.
“We don’t know yet.”
Slowly, I was able to calm her down, and in about half an hour, she’d finished the contents of the energon bottle. Incredibly, she fell asleep, no doubt tired out by her panic and low energy levels.
I sighed and called the others in.
“So, Perceptor,” I said, “did it work?”
“Absolutely, RC. Her energy level is now at fifteen percent. Six more and she’ll be okay.”
I raised my hand for a high-five, and, thankfully, Perceptor knew the gesture. He didn’t leave me hanging, and we slapped palms. I didn’t count on his metal hand, though, and had to bite down on saying “ouch.”
“How about the other statues?”
“Three more of the bottles will be ready in a few minutes, and we can try again. But I think we’ve solved it, RC.”
-----
In the next few days, the other statues were on the mend. Ratchet said that they were at full saturation already, as best as their instruments could tell. Also, the reason for the faulty estimates of their energy depletion was because their forms used up energon faster than an Autobot. It was another indication of their less-than-perfect transformation. But with frequent, regular infusions of energon using Perceptor’s new energon “bottle,” they should be all right.
But other than that, there was no change in their physical status.
By that time, they’d been thoroughly checked out. They were Cybertronians, in the same way I was, but they showed no special transformation abilities nor other capabilities – they had no chameleon circuit like Betty or I did, nor any other specialized abilities. In essence, they were just sentient robots formed to look like statues. The only difference was that they were generally stronger and more resilient than the other Autobots, and their skin was a replicated version of stone or marble, but the parts where they needed to bend and stretch were slightly different, and it allowed them to move freely and easily without showing hinges or seams. Other than that, they were pretty run-of-the-mill.
These were the statues that had survived – there was Katherine, plus one other “female” robot and one “male.” The lone male was made to look like Michelangelo’s famous sculpture, “David,” while one of the females looked like a sculpture from the Archeological Museum of Rhodes. The sculpture was called “Aphrodite Bathing.”
Perceptor tried to find any ties amongst these sculptures and the names of the four ex-prisoners, and found that there was a three-month exhibit that featured copies of contemporary and classical examples of sculptures in the University of Maryland Art Gallery. All of the statues were featured in that exhibit. And the four changees had been to that exhibit one time or another.
I dispatched some people to check it out; hopefully they'd come back with some useful information.
In the meantime, the base psychiatrist had been seeing our four ex-prisoners. It was too soon to tell, he said, but he was hopeful that he could help them. What was good, though, was they had an easier time acclimatizing than me, because, though their colorization wasn’t exactly normal, their dimensions and features were very close to the normal human, and that helped people to accept them. That helped reduce their problems.
As for me, my changes had started to slow down. In a few days, Ratchet said I should stabilize already. Still, Ratchet was worried about some things. Three things, specifically: one – my energy stores were approaching maximum and my current level of activities would not reduce these levels appreciably, and I was in serious danger of exceeding my storage capacity, which could result in serious internal damage. And my “habit” of indulging in three meals a day wasn’t helping any. I need to find a way to siphon off the excess energy; two – the AllSpark shard embedded in my chest didn’t seem to be doing anything constructive yet it was tapped into all of my major “systems.” Ratchet was thinking of removing it, but didn’t know how; three – my chameleon circuit had remained dormant. Ratchet said I should learn to use it, otherwise it might atrophy.
I asked him what I should do, but he didn’t know. He said that Perceptor was working on something that should help and I should visit him.
I nodded and decided to visit him during lunch.
-----
“Hey, Perceptor,” I called.
“RC!” Perceptor turned around. “This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my little lair?” He smiled.
“I come bearing gifts.” I brought out a bag, and took out two energon cubes from inside.
“Excellent timing! I was feeling a little run down. Thank you so much.” He reached for one of them and sipped from it.
“Ahhh! That hit the spot,” he said, and lifted the cube towards me, like he was making a toast.
“Actually,” I hemmed and hawed, “I also came to ask your help.”
Perceptor chuckled. “I thought so. So, what is it I can help you with?”
I told him what Ratchet told me, and confirmed that he was indeed working on something. He went and reached into an overhead bin and brought out what looked like a pair of shoes, and handed them to me.
“So, this is what you’ve been working on? Shoes?”
“Not just shoes, RC.”
After everything Susan had taught me about women’s clothes, I now knew enough to know that these shoes were what are called wedge shoes. These ones were light-gray, high-heeled wedge shoes.
The middle part of the wedges was made of some translucent ruby-colored material. I looked at the bottom of the heels and the welt, and there were a couple of round holes there. I looked inside the shoes and the insole – the soft part that went against the bottoms of the feet – had little round plugs that looked to me like the electrical contacts or terminals of disposable dry-cell batteries.
“Yeah? How do shoes help me with my problem?”
“Well, I’ll show you. Meet me at the hangar near the main landing strip later, after work. Bring the shoes.”
“But…”
I wasn’t able to get anything else out of him, and left with the shoes in hand.
They had pretty high heels, something like five inches. Was that high? Since the shoes were supposed to be mine, I did some number conversions in my head. If the shoes were in Susan’s size instead, the heels would be the equivalent of four inches. Hmmm. That still seems high.
I texted Susan, and asked about high heels, and she responded with, “yes, four inches are pretty high. Is that a hint, and you’d like me to buy you a pair?”
Oh, well.
-----
Come five PM, I told my assistant that I was done for the day, and that she could go home already.
I finished off the last of my paperwork, left to find Betty, and we went to the airfield together.
At the hangar, we saw several Autobots and some of my guys waiting. Ultra Magnus and Rodimus were there, as well as Ratchet, Perceptor and Wheelie, and the Autobot tactical officers, Side Swipe and Sunstreaker. This seemed to be a big deal for something involving high heels.
I then noticed General Lennox himself was there.
I saluted. “Good evening, General. What are you doing here?”
“Good evening, RC. Actually, I don’t really know. But Perceptor called me and said I needed to be here.”
I started to feel nervous. I looked to Perceptor.
“Hey, Perceptor. So, what’s this all about?”
“Good evening, RC. We’re going to help you complete your transition.”
“With a pair of shoes?”
“They’re not just shoes, RC. They’re actually jet boots.”
“Huh? Jet boots?”
“Just put them on, please, and you’ll understand.”
I looked towards Lennox. “General?”
“Just do it, RC, and let’s get this over with.”
I shrugged and bent down to take off my shoes.
“Your socks, too, please,” Perceptor said.
I was passed being puzzled and passively took off my socks as well, and then put on the high-tech wedges.
I then stood and walked around in them. With the shoes on, I was now seven-feet eight inches tall. Wheelie and I were now almost eye-to-eye.
Surprisingly, the wedges felt really comfortable, except for the fact that they were too high. But my feet seemed to be accommodating them, and I stood easily.
I looked to Perceptor.
“Now what,” I said.
He brought out something that looked like a car fob. “I’m going to manually turn the jet boots on. They’ll have to be manually activated and deactivated manually until you learn to turn them on by yourself. Here we go.”
I nodded. But after a minute, nothing happened.
“Did you turn it on?”
“I did.”
“Nothing’s happening.”
“Do you feel anything different?”
“Well, now that you ask… I do feel something.”
“Yes?”
“I feel a kind of heat coming from here.” I pointed to my chest. “And here.” I then pointed to the part below the ribs on my left side. I knew enough that my spleen was located there.
“Your chameleon circuits have been triggered.”
“Triggered by shoes?”
Perceptor chuckled. “No. They’ve been triggered because the energy taps in your heels are now being tapped for energy.”
“Explain.”
“In order to accommodate the tapping of your energy, your body needs to shift to a form that will allow that. Your current human-form doesn’t allow it.”
I felt a little dizzy. “Whoa!”
Betty came over and held me steady.
“Are you all right, Captain?”
“Just a little dizzy, Bee. Thanks.” I held on to her as the waves of dizziness went through me. And then I could feel something happening.
A few seconds later, we all heard the recognizable sound that accompanied the change when Autobots transformed to their vehicular forms.
The dizziness went away and I was able to let go of Betty. I then noticed the silence.
Looking up, I saw everyone staring at me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you all looking at me?”
Lennox cleared his throat. “Does someone have a mirror?” he said. “Can someone give RC a mirror?”
Betty reached down and handed me one. I noticed that it was actually Betty’s rearview mirror.
I nodded my thanks and looked at myself. In the mirror, what I saw was myself, except that I was now dull-chrome. My platinum-blonde hair had become more pale, and now looked like it was silver now. I raised my hand to touch my face and when I did, I noticed that it now looked like the glove of a medieval suit of armor, with pieces of metal in place of my normal skin. I marveled at my hand and, though the skin was now inflexible pieces of metal, I could still feel through them. I turned back to my face.
My face, now covered in a dull-chrome like metal, still looked like my face. I moved my lips and I didn’t have trouble. I used my hand to touch it, and found the metal of my face to be flexible. Thank goodness for that. I didn’t know if I could have taken having a seamed face covered in metal plates.
I noticed that my lips still had a bit of color – a very pale blush of pink covered them. I opened my mouth and noticed that my teeth were now of a very bright pearl-white color, and my tongue had the same pale-pink of my lips. As for my eyes - the iris was now a glowing pink while the pupil had a deeper ruby glow. My sclera, or the white part, was now a translucent kind of pearl color and was surrounded by a luscious fringe of silver eyelashes.
“Well, that’s different,” I said, and noticed that my voice had now acquired a kind of electronic reverberation similar to the voices of Betty and the other Autobots.
“Perceptor? Ratchet?” I called. “What’s happened to me?”
“Stay calm, RC,” Ratchet said. “This is all perfectly normal.”
“Normal!”
“Yes, RC,” Perceptor said. “Normal. It seems you’ve finally found how to transform into your second form. But, instead of a vehicular form, like the Autobots, your second form seems to be an augmented humanoid form. It remains to be seen what your capabilities are in your augmented form.”
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
“This is my Autobot form?”
Perceptor shrugged. “I guess so.”
I looked at myself, examining the changes that had happened to me. “Well, I guess I can live with it,” I smiled wanly. Despite my robotic form, I was still wearing my uniform. I steadied myself against Betty and lifted my leg to take a look at my “jet boots.” The ruby part of the wedge-heel was starting to glow.
“So…” Perceptor said. “Want to try them out?”
“You mean…”
“The Autobots are short of flight-capable personnel. We could sure use another one.”
“But I don’t know how…”
“Look inside yourself, RC,” Ratchet said. “I’m sure you’ll find out how.”
I looked at him, and tried to do that. By concentrating, I was able to picture my new footwear and how to control it. I also saw, in my mind’s eye, how to control my flight. It was like I knew these things instinctively.
“Your analytics systems have kicked in by now,” Ratchet explained, “and you can now read the data embedded into the jet boots. You’ll also be able to do the same things with the other components in your internals. Try it.”
I tried to shift the focus of my concentration, and, like the boots, it seemed like I instinctively knew my body’s functions. Former systems that weren’t activated, I was able to activate. New senses that I never knew I had were suddenly activated.
“Wow!”
“So, RC…”
“Step back, Bee. I’m gonna fire my jets!”
Betty moved back several feet and I triggered my boots. The ruby-colored wedges started to pulsate with an internal glow, and then I was flying.
Like an F22 Raptor in full afterburner, powerful jets came out of my boots and I was kicked into the air. Instinctively, I knew how to balance on the column of fire from my jets, and to keep my arms close to my sides and kept my body rigidly straight. I made slight movements with my hands and executing a barrel roll to my right.
“Woohoo!” I yelled and flew through the air. I could see everything rushing below me, and felt the air buffeting me and threatening to make me unstable. And my long hair wasn’t helping, any. I decided to climb higher, and as the air became thinner, my flight became more stable and I was able to fly faster.
“RC?” I heard Ratchet inside my head.
“What?” I said. “Is that you, Ratchet? How are you doing this?” I didn’t use my mouth to reply but used my internal voice instead.
“Perceptor gave me your frequency. Anyway, how are you doing?”
“I am doing great!” I thought back. “This is wonderful!”
Ratchet laughed. “Rodimus wanted me to tell you that you are now travelling at Mach five-plus at around eighty thousand feet.”
“I am?”
“How are you feeling?”
“I feel fine, though come to think about it, I can feel my face and shoulders are a little hot.”
“That’s probably due to air friction. Telemetric shots of you show that you’re actually glowing red-hot from the friction.”
“Cool.”
“Anyway, Rodimus says that the test flight has gone well. He’s asking you to return home.”
“Acknowledged, Ratchet. Please tell Rodimus I’m on my way back.” I raised my left hand at the wrist and I started to turn. Pretty soon, I was on my way back.
“When you’re near the base, Rodimus is suggesting that you reduce your speed to subsonic, to cool yourself down.”
“Good idea. Will do.”
“And, ummm, RC, I suggest you land northeast of your original takeoff point. Look for Bumblebee – she’ll be waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“Well, if you didn’t notice, your clothes tore off early in your flight, and, ummm, though we Autobots don’t mind, your human friends might find it uncomfortable to see you, ummm, naked.”
“What! Omigod!”
“Bumblebee has gone back to your office and got you some spare clothes. Do you understand what I’m saying, RC?”
“Yes, Ratchet, I understand. Will comply.”
“Good. See you soon, then.” And with that, he clicked off.
When I saw I was nearing Fort Lewis, I decelerated to four hundred miles an hour, and kept on slowing down. I felt my skin cool down rapidly, and, when I looked downwards, I spotted Betty standing maybe fifty feet away from the rest of the people standing on the tarmac. I made for that spot and landed beside her.
“Hey, Bee.”
“You look like you had fun,” She chuckled. “But, before anything else, put this on.” She held out a cotton tanktop and a pair of cutoff jeans. “Sorry,” she continued to chuckle. “These were the only things I could find in your office.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers. Oh, no. Here they come. Quick, gimme those.” I took the clothes and quickly put them on.
Everyone had started walking towards us, but when they got near, I had finished putting on the tanktop and had buttoned up the shorts.
“That was quite a show, Captain,” Lennox said.
“Yes, sir,” I said and saluted. I felt like I was blushing.
He was grinning. “You’re out of uniform, Captain.”
“Ummm, sorry, sir. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Make sure you do. Anyway, that was an impressive show you put on.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Better go home and rest, then. I’ll expect your report in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted again, and watched him and most of the humans walk away.
But the Autobots stayed and crowded around me. They were all congratulating me, and I shyly told them thanks. I belatedly noticed I was still in augmented mode.
“Can I see the jet boots, RC?” Perceptor said.
I steadied myself against Betty, took off the wedges and handed them to Perceptor.
He took them and looked them over. “Seems they worked as designed.” He smiled at me. “Congratulations, RC.”
“Can you try transforming back to human mode, RC?” Ultra Magnus asked.
I thought a little bit, concentrated, and we heard the transformation sound.
I looked down and I saw I was back to my normal human form, and I sighed in relief.
“Can you try shifting back?”
I concentrated again, and I was able to shift back to my augmented mode.
“Great. It seems you have full control of your transformation now.”
I grinned, feeling proud of myself.
Perceptor handed the jet boots back. I smiled my thanks and, rather than go barefoot, I put the wedges back on.
Everyone asked me how I felt when I flew, and I had to tell them how great it felt. I could tell a lot of them were looking at me a little enviously, and I guess they weren’t flight-capable.
I had to ask Perceptor why hasn’t he made jet boots or something similar for everyone. He explained that the energy needed to get them off the ground was a little too much, and would exhaust their energy reserves very quickly. The difference between the typical Autobot and myself was that I was so much lower in mass than everyone, but had a lot of energy stored.
I had to ask why this was important, and he explained that the “purpose-built” flight-capable Cybertronian had larger energy reserves than the average Autobot because they needed it to be able to fly.
“My examination of you showed you had about twice the reserves of a typical Autobot,” he explained, “and it had made me think you were flight-capable, but I couldn’t find any kind of system or mechanism that would allow you to take flight. It was a design mismatch. I suppose that’s part of your unusual birth. I thought, by providing you the jet boots, it was a convenient way to drain your energy and, at the same time, give you the ability to take flight.”
“Well, it worked,” I said. “Thank you, Perceptor.”
“All in a day’s work, my dear,” he smiled.
After a while, the crowd broke up, and Betty and I went home. That night, after my regular call to Susan, I fell into an exhausted, but pleasant, sleep.
I started my day with writing up my report and submitting it to General Lennox’s office, CC’ing Ultra Magnus, Perceptor and Ratchet. After that, I checked the latest reports and noted the increased number of Decepticon sightings in Europe. I sent several of my people over to confirm the sightings. After that, if they were confirmed, I'd contact the necessary authorities and then turn it over to Rodimus and Ultra Magnus.
At lunchtime, Betty and I went over to Perceptor’s and talked over my “test flight” the night before.
Perceptor had me on his examination table again, and he reported that all of the systems he could detect were all activated. Even my comms systems were working as well. The only thing that he wasn’t sure of was the AllSpark fragment in my chest. It seemed to still be dormant. But it was useless to worry about it. As Perceptor says, we'd “cross that bridge when we get there.”
I then brought up another topic, this one was something that I couldn’t speak about without blushing.
Perceptor was smiling. “So, let me get this straight, RC,” he said. “You want me to design some clothes you can wear that won’t burn up or rip apart when you’re flying, so you don’t end up without clothes again.” He was all but laughing.
“That’s right.” I knew I was blushing now.
“Well… It’s easily done, actually, except for the material.”
“How about the armor suits?”
“Those are designed for short-impact resistance. Though they might survive the high thermal levels, they wouldn’t be able to survive the sustained pressures and vibration you’ll experience. They would probably shred five minutes into supersonic flight.
“But I have this fabric I’ve designed. It has extremely high tensile strength so it won’t tear or shred, resistance to temperatures of up to three thousand degrees centigrade and a high enough coefficient of elasticity that it won’t stretch beyond a certain point, so it will remain in place even in high-velocity winds.”
“That sounds great. Can I see?”
Perceptor held out a small piece of pink cloth. It was hardly bigger than two square feet.
“Ummm, that’s it?”
“Yes, it is. This piece is a product of a year and a half of synthesizing, nano-construction, molecular bonding and chemical processing.”
“A year and a half! And all you got was that?”
“Well, it’s a complicated process, and the materials are not easy to synthesize.”
“And why pink?”
“I wasn’t really intending for it to come out as pink. It just came out that way. Besides, does the color matter?”
“Well… okay. But is that enough?”
“I’ll see what I can do with this little material. Come back tomorrow and I’ll have something.”
“Well… okay. Let’s go, Bee.”
We left and started walking back to my office. As we walked down the hall, Betty said, under her breath, “pink.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said, and she giggled.
-----
The following day, I went over to Perceptor’s.
“Here you go,” he said, and handed me a small pink bundle, but before I could take it and see what he made, I got paged through the PA.
As instructed, I rushed to the Encounter Arena and found General Lennox and Ultra Magnus there, with Betty helping them. Betty explained that, apparently, they got a report about a disturbance in a small suburban town in Maryland involving the Venus de Milo statue.
I immediately had one of our reconnaissance satellites take some video of the area and we saw it was indeed our missing nemesis. She was in the town plaza or something, with a streetlight pole in her hands, swinging it around and hitting people and cars indiscriminately. There were already several people lying prone on the ground, but most of the others had moved away out of her range.
The other three robot statues at large weren’t in evidence, however.
“There she is,” one of my guys said. “What’s she doing?”
“She seems to be tearing up the downtown area,” someone responded.
“I can see that…”
On the big screen, we could see that she had dropped the big pole and picked up a small car. In a few moments, she threw it at a bus station, but the people there had scrambled away just in time.
“She’s saying something,” I said. “Is there a way to hear what she’s saying?”
“No, sir, I’m sorry.”
“I can read her lips, Captain,” Betty said. “She is saying, ‘go away, little insects, and get me my treasure. I need it. If you don’t, I’ll kill you all. Where’s that bitch that stole it? Where’s my cube?’”
Lennox slammed his fist on the conference table.
“Dammit.”
Someone tapped into the closed circuit security cameras in the area and we got better footage of the berserker robot picking up more vehicles and throwing them into storefronts and buildings.
“Clearly, that thing is in the middle of a psychotic break,” I said. “What could have caused it?”
“I can assume,” Ratchet said, “that she is in the final stages of energy depletion. Her cognitive functions are being impaired and she is not in full control of herself. If she follows the norm, she’ll continue on her rampage until her energy levels can’t sustain her anymore. After that, it will be mechanical disarticulation.”
“She isn’t exactly an Autobot, Ratchet,” Ultra Magnus said.
“Mechanical failure, then.”
“What can we do?” I asked.
“We can ask the local authorities to evacuate the area, and then we need to get there, hold her at bay and wait until her energy levels are low enough until she becomes manageable.”
Ratchet looked at a console on the conference table. “Given the energy readings we’re getting,” he said, “the way her energy levels are going down, that should be in an hour or so.”
“One hour is a long time,” I said. “She can do a lot of damage in an hour.”
“Okay,” Lennox said. “Ultra Magnus, you need to get your people there right now.”
Magnus sadly shook his head.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, General,” he said. “We won’t be able to get there in time. Sky Lynx and his team are busy on the moon, and it will take him at least twelve hours to get back here to shuttle us there in time to do anything about it. As for the other flight-capable Autobots remaining in the base, they are all subsonic. They’ll take a couple of hours at best to get there. And that includes Kup, Powerglide, Skyhammer, Topspin, Whirl, Springer, Sandstorm and even Swoop of the Dinobots.”
“I thought there were a lot of Autobots that can go supersonic.”
“Unfortunately, Sky Lynx has co-opted most of them to be part of his lunar project team.”
“We can use a couple of the ballistic jets and ferry your guys over.”
“I’m afraid, General, even your ballistic planes won’t be able to get there any faster than three hours. By then, it will be all over.”
“Dammit!”
“There is one other Autobot that can get there in time,” Ratchet said.
“There is?” Ultra Magnus said. “I don’t have any other hypersonic fliers on my list…”
“Who is it, Ratchet,” Lennox asked.
Ratchet turned and pointed to me. “Her,” he said.
“That’s right! RC!”
“Whoa, wait a second,” I said. “Let’s think about this first…”
“Captain, we have no choice. Look at that.” On the screen we saw the statue. Apparently she was able to get to a motorcycle dealership or something because she was now throwing motorcycles and scooters at anything that moved.
I sighed. “Okay…”
-----
So there I was, standing on the tarmac again, wearing the jet boots and Perceptor’s latest sartorial creation.
“Of all the things to make, Perceptor…”
“I’m sorry, RC,” Perceptor said. “There wasn’t enough material to make anything else. I went through some fashion magazines, looking for some article of clothing that would fit the amount of material I had and would stay in place at hypersonic speeds.”
“I understand, Perceptor. But a swimsuit?”
“It’s a one-piece, RC. You can get in and out of it without the need of any buttons, clips or zippers. And it will stay in place no matter how fast you fly.”
I sighed.
“Looking great, RC,” Lennox laughed.
“Shut up… sir.”
He made a calming gesture.
“Sorry, RC. Okay. Time to go. Remember – we want to capture the statue entity alive if possible, yet prevent it from hurting or killing any civilians.”
I nodded.
“Bee,” I called. Betty came over and handed me an Autobot handgun, utility knife and belt.
Normally, I would have used a regular knife and rifle but at the speeds I’d be flying, they wouldn’t have stood up against the wind and the high thermal levels. So I had no choice but to use Autobot equipment.
To me, what was a handgun for the Autobots was as large as a fifty-caliber Hecate rifle. As for the knife, it was as large as a machete in my hand, and as for the knife belt - the kind that an Autobot would use to secure the knife to his thigh or forearm - to me, it was large enough to go around my waist.
I snapped the belt around my waist and secured the knife and gun to it.
“The belt will disrupt your airflow, RC,” Betty warned, “So be prepared for that, especially at supersonic speeds.”
“Thanks, RC,” I said. I reached up and gave her a hug.
I gestured for everyone to back to give me room. I transformed to my augmented mode and swept the bright-chrome hair back.
“So how do I look?” I vamped, and all my guys wolf-whistled.
“Okay, here I go!”
Switching on my jets, I flew upwards in a cloud of fire and smoke and I was rapidly climbing up into the sky. Betty was right – I noticed the drag coming from the belt, but I added more thrust despite this and flew higher and higher.
“This is Fort Lewis Air Traffic Control, Captain McKenzie. You have flight clearance all the way to angels forty and up. We will inform local air traffic when you’re over Maryland airspace, so keep on your current flight trajectory. Copy?”
“Copy, Fort Lewis,” I responded on my new Autobot comms. “Wish me luck.”
“Good hunting, Captain. Fort Lewis, out.”
I continued upwards and could start feeling the vibrations coming from the belt. I lifted my arms about thirty degrees away from my sides and used my flattened palms like flaps at the end of wings and was able to make the changes necessary to keep my flight stable.
I must have been flying at Mach three by then, and could start feeling the heat on my shoulders, face and outer arms, but as I got higher and higher, and the air got thinner and thinner, that lessened and lessened, and the vibrations all but disappeared.
When I flew past the Karman Line, I relied on instructions from Perceptor to adjust my trajectory. I half-wished that I would see the international space station or something but, unfortunately, I didn’t. In a matter of minutes, I found myself re-entering atmosphere again. When Perceptor warned that I was nearing my landing target, I started to slow down. Since there was not enough friction, the air started to cool me down.
Seconds before I touched down, I flipped over and crashed on the ground on my jet boot. My impact was strong enough that it broke the pavement.
“Coolness,” I grinned.
I looked up and saw that I had landed in the middle of the plaza where the Venus de Milo statue was raising havoc.
I then noticed that everyone had stopped and were staring at me. I sighed. I don’t think I’d get used to this.
Lifting my “rifle,” I gestured to the bystanders.
“Move away, everyone!” I called. “Take cover! Clear the area!”
“Well, well, well…” I heard that voice again, and I turned to face the statue.
She was about fifty feet away, and she was looking at me.
“So you’re back, little girl. And you’ve had a make-over, I see.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You’re still as ugly as before.”
“How dare you!” She picked up a small scooter and threw it at me.
Lifting my rifle, I fired at the scooter and it exploded in the air thirty feet from me. I then ran forward and took cover behind an abandoned van. Motorcycles and scooters started raining around me, and I stayed put until it stopped.
I peeked around the van and saw the statue walking towards me. It had what looked like a street sign post in each hand, which allowed me to get a bead on her.
I fired and hit her point blank, throwing her backwards and knocking her down.
I rushed forward and I saw her staggering up. When she was standing, I saw that my shot had damaged her. Her torso was full of cracks and missing sections, and a lot of viscous, reddish fluid leaking from them.
“You better have my cube, you bitch!”
I was about to fire into her again but, looking at her, I knew that another hit would finish her so I holstered my rifle.
“Sorry, sister, I didn’t bring it with me.”
With a roar, she rushed me and swung one of the signposts around and hit me on the shoulder. Her blow was strong enough that I was knocked to the ground. Surprisingly, the blow didn’t hurt as much as I expected it would.
She reached down, held me by the throat and lifted me off my feet. She was strong, I have to give her that.
I would have expected to be choking by this time, but apparently, in my robotic form, I wasn’t something to sneeze at, and I didn’t need to breathe as well.
I steadied myself against her arm and slugged her across the face.
That staggered her and she let me go. When I dropped to the ground, I kicked her in the shins and she fell on top of me. She shook her head, trying to shake it off. I took advantage of that. I hit her on her side and pushed her off, giving me a chance to get up.
She stood up as well and reached for my arm. Using brute force, she was able to lift me and throw into a storefront window. When I started picking my way through the debris, I noticed that I had lost my gun.
When I got out of the store and onto the street, something exploded to my right. I ducked and looked to where the statue was. She was standing there holding my gun and pointing it towards me.
I switched on my internal comms.
“McKenzie to General Lennox. Come in.”
“This is Lennox,” the General responded. “What is it RC?”
“The statue got her hands on my weapon, sir.”
“Yes, Captain, we can see it from here.”
“Request permission to…”
“Permission granted, Captain. Take the bitch out.”
“Yes, sir.”
I stayed down and tried to think of a way to get to her. There were plenty of rocks and other debris around me, so I took a page out of her own strategy book and hefted a couple of the larger pieces. I then took aim and threw them at the statue.
The rocks hit her dead-on and she had to raise her arm to stop the rocks from hitting her head. I kept it up and she had to move behind a car for protection.
But I didn’t care. I kept it up and the rocks I threw exploded against the car.
She screamed in frustration and stood up, firing the gun in my general direction, but wasn’t too particular about her aim. The charges exploded all around me and I had to duck down.
The rocks were not good enough. I had to think of another way. And then I remembered my pocket rocket. I looked at my right hand, wondering if I could trigger it this time.
I extended my index and middle fingers like they were the barrel of a gun, and felt something click. Great.
I stood as her bullets exploded all around me, ignoring the noise and the flying debris, and concentrated on my aim.
The statue saw me and stopped firing.
“I got your gun, little girl,” she laughed.
“That’s okay,” I called. “I got a spare.”
She laughed again. “What? That? What are we doing – playing cops and robbers now?”
“You hurt a lot of people. If you don’t stop, I’m going to put you down.”
“No you won’t.”
“Why don’t you stop already. You’re dying. Don’t you feel it? Why don’t you stop and allow me to help you?”
“Help me? It’s your fault that I’m dying! It’s your fault that I lost my cube! If you left everything alone…”
“Listen - all that doesn’t matter. You’re dying. Stop this and I can help you.”
She screamed and brought up the gun.
Before she could fire, I fired a couple of shots into her torso. The bullets I fired flew at Mach one. The sonic booms were amazing to hear, and their kinetic energy threw the statue twenty feet back.
“That should make her consider her options,” I thought.
But it looked like I spoke too soon.
The statue stood up again. Beside the damage I caused earlier, I saw a fist-sized hole right through her right shoulder, with the viscous red fluid pouring out of it. She wasn’t able to move her right arm so she transferred the gun to her left hand. She screamed again and took aim.
I couldn’t let this go any further. I took aim again, but this time, I aimed differently.
Before she fired again, I fired off rounds in quick succession. This time I walked it down. I knew they were killing shots, but I had no choice.
I would find out later that first bullet went though her right eye, and the next one right below her neck and through her chest, while the other two went into her abdomen. Like before, the sonic booms were deafening and the impact so strong that she flew back in the air.
This time, I knew it was fatal. I put down my hand and saw her hit the ground. She didn’t move after that.
After a minute, I started walking towards her. If only she had stopped, I wouldn’t have had to do it.
I saw my rifle, picked it up and clipped it to my belt. I continued walking towards the statue and finally saw her.
I couldn’t believe I had killed her. I knew I'd had no choice, and had terminated her on orders. Still.
I'd killed before, and always for a good reason. I didn't understand why this one was affecting me this way.
I kneeled and looked at the sad statue.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You didn’t ask for this. So it’s not really your fault.”