The new robot's dimensions were closer to a human's but, even though it wasn't as enormous as Ultra Magnus, the new one was still more than twelve feet high, and it had what looked like a large telescope mounted on its left shoulder.
Though it was wearing a helmet as well, it wasn't wearing a mask or goggles, and we saw its robotic face looking at us in curiosity.
The little orange car also transformed, and turned into a robot, this time, a little Autobot with a matt-silver face. And when I say "little," I meant in comparison to the others - he was over eight feet tall. He turned and smiled at us. I couldn't escape the feeling that I was looking at a kid. Maybe because he was so small.
"Hi," he said to us, in a voice that sounded like an eight-year-old. "My name Wheelie."
"Good evening, Ultra Magnus," the other new arrival said, turning to the Autobot leader. "Sorry for being away. I was observing some anomalous readings in the east coast of the country. Curiously, the electromagnetic signals are very similar to the AllSpark signature. Let me show you."
He pulled out some sort of device from somewhere and fiddled with it.
As he was about to hand it over to Ultra Magnus, Ultra Magnus sighed a long-suffering sigh of exasperation, and gestured the device away.
"Later, Perceptor. Can't you see we have guests?"
Perceptor looked down and finally acknowledged us.
"Oh! I apologize. How rude of me. How do you do? I am Perceptor."
He extended a robotic hand towards us. We didn't know how to react, but Susan decided to accept the gesture.
"Hello," Susan said and reached up to shake his hand. "I'm Susan Blu." The Autobot's hand engulfed Susan's much smaller one, and they shook hands.
Following her lead, I shook his hand as well.
"Hi, I'm Detective-Lieutenant Ron McKenzie, Metropolitan Police."
"Glad to know you," he said. He glanced at the yellow car but dismissed it as just another non-sentient human-made car, and turned to Ultra Magnus.
"I'm sorry," Susan said. "I forgot to introduce you to our friend Betty. Betty? Say hello to Perceptor."
Betty maneuvered so that she could face the new robots.
"Good evening, sir," Betty said in her sexy, German-tinged accent. "I am Betty. I am Ms. Susan's vehicle. I am a 2010-model Volkswagen hatchback New Beetle. I have a two-liter gasoline engine with a six-speed tiptronic transmission, and I am capable of..."
"Betty," Susan giggled, "I don't think Wheelie and Perceptor need to know all that." I looked up and I saw Perceptor looking shocked.
"Oh. I apologize..." Betty trailed off, sounding a little abashed.
"Magnus?" Perceptor asked.
"Perceptor," Ultra Magnus said, "these three had an encounter with a robotic entity..."
"Ultra Magnus!"
The big Autobot sighed.
"Yes, Perceptor?"
"That's a new Autobot!"
-----
It turned out to be a long night. The news about Betty spread throughout the Autobot community in the base, and every robot that didn't have any immediate duties found some excuse to drop by and take a look at their newest sibling. Somehow, it reminded me of people fawning over a newborn baby.
Initially, Betty was intimidated by the attention from the Autobots but Susan and I felt that, towards the end, Betty started liking all the attention and didn't mind Perceptor doing some tests on her.
Perceptor, the Autobots' lead scientist and, later, Rachet, their "doctor" (I would have said "mechanic" but what he did was more akin to what a doctor does), did almost the same thing as Ultra Magnus - they put their hands on Betty's roof and concentrated. But with them, they did it faster, and didn't project any images. Later on, Rachet told me they were looking through her recordings, just like Ultra Magnus did, but didn't bother to project them.
Like mechanics with built-in pockets, Rachet and Perceptor produced devices that came from inside their robotic bodies, and used them to examine Betty thoroughly. The consensus was that she was indeed one of them, although a very young one, younger even than Wheelie. Only time would tell when she would be able to transform into her humanoid form and what that form would be exactly, or if her chameleon circuits would even allow her to transform into other mechanical guises other than her default car configuration and her humanoid form. But everyone was patient with Betty and her shy demeanor, and accommodated her in her current Volkswagen Beetle configuration.
Several military people also came over to debrief us, so we left Betty with the Autobots, and Susan and I went with the soldiers and went through our story again. It was hard for them to believe us, to say the least, so, to provide some corroborative evidence, we asked Ultra Magnus to provide a recording of the video he showed us. After a short wait, Perceptor came over and handed us a conventional computer memory stick/thumb drive.
The captain in charge got out a computer and they scanned through the videos and, in the end, they believed.
They called in more science-types, and the both of us went through very thorough examinations which included x-rays, ECGs, EKGs, skin samples, hair samples, tissue samples, blood samples, saliva samples, pee and poop samples and so many other samples I couldn't recall them taking. A stethoscope wasn't even used.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Eventually, they quit, and said that they will be back with the results of the tests, and will be doing more tests in the morning. I chuckled a little - it sounded like some kind of threat. Doctors are the same everywhere.
It was near four in the morning. Susan and I were too tired to keep awake and we decided to turn in. But before we did, we got a report back - we were a hundred percent okay, and though they couldn't explain why I was a girl now, they at least said that I was a completely normal and healthy female version of myself.
We went and searched out Betty, which wasn't too hard to do. We just followed the trail of Autobots. Eventually, we found her back in the encounter arena surrounded by a lot of robotic admirers and well-wishers.
We said our good nights to Betty and the others, and as we were about to be led into some hastily prepared rooms in another building, Betty insisted on accompanying us.
Since there were no accommodations in the transients' wing of the camp big enough for Betty, Susan and myself, Perceptor offered to put us up in one of his seldom-used labs. Sergeant Boone was able to get some foldable beds, pillows and other stuff, and a few soldiers set them up in Perceptor's hastily-cleared lab. Boone was even able to get us some clothes and toiletries. Susan kept on smiling and winking at me the whole time, and I couldn't understand why.
Susan and I thanked him and the other soldiers, said our goodnights and they and the Autobots left us.
As Boone and the others left and we were all alone, I turned to Susan.
"Okay," I said. "Tell me."
"Tell you what?" Susan giggled, sitting down on her foldout bed.
"Tell me why you kept winking at me."
"Moi? Winking at you? Whatever made you think I was winking at you?"
"Dammit, Susan!"
She laughed her beautiful laugh. "Okay, okay - keep your panties on."
I thought it ironic that she would say that, since I wasn't wearing any. Actually, all I had on was Susan's jacket, Susan's too-small stretchy running shorts which I had put on after the first hasty medical exam, flip-flops that someone found for me earlier, and the barrettes that Susan clipped to my temples earlier to keep my hair out of my eyes. Good thing Sergeant Boone left us all the clothes.
Hands on hips, I glared at her.
"It's just that someone has a crush on someone," Susan said in sing-song.
"Indeed," Betty said.
"What!"
"Honey, Sergeant Boone has it bad for you!"
"Indeed," Betty repeated.
"Stop saying 'indeed,' Betty!"
"Oho, but it's true," Susan chortled.
Seeing my angry, disbelieving face, she got up and steered me towards a long mirror attached to the side of the metal closet Sergeant Boone had wheeled in for us.
I looked at this statuesque Norse goddess reflected in the floor-length mirror in a kind of shock. I was beyond beautiful.
The first thing you noticed about the new me was that I was so tall. Later on, I would find that I was six feet-nine - three inches taller than my height when I was still a normal man. Though tall, my old height was still within the range of the normal human male. Now imagine some supermodel who was taller, and you can imagine the impact the new me had. True, my... dimensions were still within the realm of what was normal, but very, very, very rare for a girl. And, though I was tall, my dimensions still put me in the classic, sexy hourglass-supermodel-bombshell dimensions - only on a taller scale. From now on, the moment I walk in a room, I would be sure to get everyone's attention.
The next thing you would notice was my platinum, almost silver, hair, which was currently down to the top of my ass-cheeks. I moved my head from side to side and my hair seemed to wave like sparkling water on a beach, like each strand was chrome-plated. It looked artificial but you just knew it wasn't. My borrowed red barrettes highlighted my hair's color perfectly.
The next thing was my face. My gorgeous, ultra-feminine face, and the sultry, almond-shaped eyes just oozed sensuousness. Any expression I could make just couldn't take that away. I smiled experimentally, frowned, stuck my tongue out, raised my eyebrows and did everything else I could think of, and I looked sexy no matter what expression I tried. Just for the heck of it, I tried looking deliberately sexy, and the smoldering sex-charged expression I made just multiplied the sexy-factor a hundredfold. With just one glance, I had the power to weaken the knees of any red-blooded man (I’m exaggerating, of course... well, at least I think I’m exaggerating...).
Thing was, my face looked familiar. I just couldn't place it, and it really bothered me that I couldn't.
And then the rest of it: Like I said - supermodel. Susan's fitted designer jacket fit me like a tight glove, and followed the spectacular curves of my torso and what must be at least double-D bra-less boobies. I could just see the abbreviated shorts peeking below the jacket's hem, putting my smooth, sexy legs on display, my flawless strawberries-and-cream complexion just highlighting their shapeliness. The only wrong note was the pair of flip-flops I was wearing. If I should happen to have been wearing some heels or something like that, I'm sure I would have just been right at home on the cover of some fashion magazine.
Susan was right. Sergeant Boone didn't have a chance.
I looked back to Susan. She was grinning.
"I know, right?" she said. "I've been having a hard time trying not to jump your bones since I first saw you as a girl. You're unbelievable, Ronnie."
"Ronnie," I thought. "Guess that fits now... Guess I should get used to it."
Susan thought I was sexy. I was glad that she finally thought of me in that way now, but I was angry that I had to be turned into a girl for that to happen. I wasn't angry with Susan - I couldn't imagine myself being angry with her. I was angry in general - angry at fate, perhaps, but mostly angry with the walking Venus De Milo that turned me into this... female.
I turned back to my reflection and continued to examine myself more closely. I leaned forward and looked at my face a little closer. My new face looked very familiar but I felt so frustrated that I still couldn't place from where. I wracked my brain but I really couldn't. I then suddenly had another question. If this face I was wearing was indeed of someone I had met before, then why did I look like her anyway?
I took a peek at Susan and saw she was busy rooting around in Betty's storage compartment. While she was preoccupied, I decided to get a full view - I unzipped the jacket, took it off and dropped it on the floor, and kicked away my flip-flops. And, except for the too-tight short shorts, there was the new me in the mirror, in my full feminine glory. Even I was gob smacked.
My curves were perfection, but that was just my own personal opinion. And, looking at me in full frontal, I looked even more familiar.
I only realized that Susan was beside me when I felt her arm slip around my waist.
"Ohmigod, Ronnie," she whispered reverently. "You're incredible."
"I can't believe it, Susan."
Susan started rubbing her hands along my flanks and I couldn't stop from shivering.
"Susan," I said hoarsely.
"Yes?"
"Please, Susan. Let's not do this. I'm not ready..."
Susan looked a bit perplexed. My need for some kind of sexual release was probably very obvious.
"But..."
"Please," I repeated hoarsely, on the verge of tears.
Susan met my gaze in the mirror. She relented.
"All right, honey," she said. "I won't rush things. I can wait until you're more comfortable as the new you." She reached up, pulled my head down gently, gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, and used a tissue to wipe my face. I only fully realized then that I was indeed crying.
She then walked away from me and went to her cot. On it was a large overnighter, which I'm sure she got from Betty's storage compartment.
She started rummaging through it, got out a fresh, slightly crushed box of tissues and handed it to me. She then got some fresh clothes for herself, walked to my cot, which was next to hers, and went thought the articles of clothing that Sergeant Boone had left.
She walked back to me and handed me some clothes - a plain, short-sleeved cotton crew tee, gray sweatpants, a bra, cotton panties, white socks and brand-new tennis sneakers. She also included two large terrycloth towels and some toiletries.
"Let's go take a shower and then let's get some sleep," she said. "There's still all of tomorrow."
I nodded mutely, still crying.
"Oh, Ronnie," she said, and touched my face. "Don't cry. I promise you we'll figure this out."
She took my hand and we went in search of a shower.