The Veiled Threat
As she ate, Kaminari amused herself by pointing at the eastern horizon and slowly working her finger westward. One by one, she began identifying stars. Given the clarity of the Outback night, she had not made much progress when an impressed Lennox finally interrupted.
“Do you know the name of every star in the sky?”
She looked at him over a forkful of food. “Certainly not. For one thing, these heavens are far less familiar to me than those of the Northern Hemisphere. Learning the names of the stars is an amusement, a diversion.”
He spooned up beef stew. “I’d think your areas of expertise would be more than sufficient to fill up your brain without the need for any additional stimulation.”
Her head went back slightly as she laughed and her hair was lost against the night. “I have a big hard drive. Plenty of unused space.” Her eyes twinkled in the truck’s lights. “How about you, Captain? What occupies your thoughts in your spare time?”
He swallowed. “My family. Ways of eliminating Decepticons. Football.” He dug into his remaining food. “Must seem pretty plebeian to someone of your accomplishments.”
Her smile vanished and she turned serious. “It’s ‘plebeian’ people like you, Captain William Lennox, who keep people like me safe from things like Decepticons.” Her playfulness returned. “Also, any career soldier who can use ‘plebeian’ in a sentence garners my undying admiration.”
He smiled through the steam rising from his spoon. “Then I’ll try to keep thinking of things you don’t think I’d think about.”
His response was punctuated by a chorus of canine yips in the distance that were simultaneously mournful and hopeful. “Dingo,” he commented. Tilting the disposable, biodegradable container to his lips, he sucked down the last of the stew. As he did so, something much nearer than the wild dogs let out a nasal bellow. Kaminari had ignored the yips, but the new sound made her jump.
“What was that?”
“Wild camel, I think. Not sure what subspecies. Can’t tell without looking at its fur.”
She stared. “How do you know so much about camels?”
He crumpled the empty food container and set it aside. “Spent some time in the Gulf States about a year ago. Too much time.” He rose. “We ought to get some rest. You take Optimus’s cab.” He nodded across the illuminated area where they had parked for the night. “I’ll get in Ironhide’s backseat.”
“That’s not nearly as comfortable,” she pointed out.
“It suits me. On the verge of a potential battlefield situation I don’t like to get too comfortable. Try to get a good night’s sleep. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow, Kami.”
She met his gaze. “Not ‘sama’ anymore?”
“I’ll decide later. This expedition is just getting started.”
Ironhide’s faux interior was more than accommodating to someone who had spent plenty of nights sleeping in a tent or on bare ground. As he let consciousness slip away while gazing out the windshield at the spray of stars overhead, a strange new sound reached him where he lay. Not dingoes or camels this time. Something far more jaunty but almost as alien: Japanese girl band pop music.
Sealing the cab while still allowing for a sufficient free flow of air to keep his guest alive, Ironhide proceeded to soundproof his interior. He also shut down his own aural receptors. Optimus could not politely do likewise since he was the one playing host to the human with the pounding music player.
One more reason why Prime was the leader, Ironhide reflected as he settled down to wait for sunrise. Had the female human’s irritatingly repetitive sound device been present in his cab, he would readily have turned one of his lesser weapons on it and blasted it out of existence.
The first light of dawn in the Outback was as brilliant and sharply defined as the southern stars had been the night before. Lennox was both surprised and relieved to see that Kaminari was already eating her breakfast when he emerged from the back of the black dually.
“I know scientists tend to be early risers, but I’m still impressed,” he told her.
“One learns nothing while sleeping.” She indicated a small lizard with a blue tongue that was sitting on a nearby rock catching the first warming rays of the rising sun. “Petr would like it here. The way I feel about it, I can sleep when I’m dead.”
As his coffee warmed he opened his laptop and amused himself by initiating a search for the word “Oobagooma.” The site had been well researched prior to their departure from Diego Garcia, of course, but he was still in waking mode and the scientist had pushed him to do something useful. Or at least to give the appearance of doing so.
Nothing new appeared on the screen. There was nothing more about their inhospitable surroundings to see on the Web than there was in person. They were in a part of the world that had no population to speak of and no developed industrial facilities. Nothing to offer except isolation and remoteness; two qualities that the region shared with the far greener southeastern Peru.
He punched in the specific coordinates where Epps was operating. Physically at least, the two regions could hardly be more disparate. One was windswept semi-desert, the other lush tropical forest. One was flat or hilly at most, the other steep and mountainous. Their present location was dry except in monsoon season, the other perpetually drenched and humid. Neither boasted much in the way of a human presence. Both featured protected natural areas. He studied the lines of information keenly, looking for something, anything, that might provide a link between the two seemingly unrelated corners of the planet. There was also … there was also …
He sat up straight, leaning forward and away from the dually’s front tire. Ironhide responded to the sudden movement.
“You react sharply.” Concern underlay the truck’s response. “A muscle spasm?”
“No, a brain spasm.” The fingers of Lennox’s right hand moved over the keyboard. “Or maybe a brain fart—I’m not sure yet.”
Kaminari noted the exchange. “What have you found, Captain?”
“I was thinking about coincidence last night. How the Autobots and Decepticons never do anything that’s just coincidental. It got me to wondering. Our surveillance satellites pick up two strong Gamma signals in two locations as utterly different as any two on Earth can be. According to machine logic, that can’t be coincidence. Which means that even though research didn’t come up with anything, there has to be something that links the two signal sites. Maybe they were concentrating so hard on prior Decepticon motivation they overlooked something that would otherwise have been obvious.” He tapped the reinforced screen. “I think maybe I’ve found it.”
Bending slightly forward so that the tip of the scabbard slung across her back wouldn’t dig into the ground, she crouched down beside him to stare at the laptop. “You are looking at a summary of what is known about this area. I have studied it closely. I do not see any similarity with the part of South America where Sergeant Epps has been sent.”
“Not overtly.” There was excitement in his voice—or at least as much as Lennox ever allowed himself to show. “You have to cast a wide net to make the connection.” He tapped the screen again. Two maps appeared, side by side. They displayed geological schematics accompanied by summarizations in small print.
“Look at this part of northwest South America, Kami. Not only the area where Epps, Petr, and the two Autobots are hunting Decepticons, but the regions to the north and south as well. What do you see?”
She scratched at one ear. “It’s a geology map. Surveyors’ reports. What am I looking for? Roadways and population centers show up much better on a political map.”
“Look here, and here.” He tapped the screen. “These are all exploration blocks that have been leased out to various companies. For prospecting and mining gold, silver, copper, nonmetals, and—hydrocarbons.”
She drew back slightly and shifted her gaze from the screen to the soldier. “So? Are you thinking the Decepticons are into recreational prospecting?”
“No,” Lennox replied, “but looking at these maps and this information I have the feeling that they are after something.”
She eyed him blankly. “I don’t understand.” It was the first time since making her acquaintance that he had heard her use that phrase.
“What minerals is this area, where we are now, noted for?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea. I didn’t think a knowledge of local geology was required groundwork for hunting Decepticons.”
“Neither did I. Until I started thinking about coincidences.” Closing the armored laptop, he tucked it under one arm as he stood. “Optimus!”
Starting up, the big diesel came closer. “Captain Lennox? You have found something?”
“Maybe. You Autobots are especially sensitive to radioactives. Are you aware of any around here?”
The leader of the Autobots was silent for a moment. “As a matter of fact, there are significant ore bodies scattered throughout the ground as far as I can perceive.”
“Of course there are.” Lennox turned back to the still bemused Kaminari. “That’s what Oobagooma is noted for. That’s the only thing Oobagooma is noted for. A big uranium deposit that the local government is still debating whether or not and how to exploit. But,” he concluded triumphantly, “the Decepticons wouldn’t hesitate.
“Consider what’s happened recently. First the Decepticons move on the Kariba–Cahorra Bassa dam complex in southeast Africa. A place capable of generating enormous quantities of hydroelectric power.”
“But their intent there was to destroy the two dams and cause as much damage, death, and disruption to local economies as possible,” she argued.
“Ah, that’s what we thought. That was the human interpretation. You have to think more like an autonomous robotic lifeform. Suppose that was their secondary objective, their backup? What if their initial purpose was to find a way to make use of all that energy? To accumulate power from an outside source? More power than they themselves could generate. If they have a way to store it …” He looked past her to where the big diesel sat idling. “Optimus?”
The leader of the Autobots considered. So did Ironhide and Salvage, who had moved closer to listen. “Such a thing is possible,” he finally conceded. “Ironhide?”
“It could be done,” the weapons specialist concurred. “Connection to an abundant external power source, if one could be found, could bloat an individual’s internal capacity to the point of overload. Of course, consequent discharge to another point of reception would relieve the overload and alleviate the danger.”
Lennox nodded slowly as he repeated the Autobot’s explanation. “ ‘Discharge to another point of reception.’ Like, to another Autobot?”
“Or to a Decepticon, yes. But there is no need to accumulate more energy than one of us can use. Each of us is amply powered by our individual Spark. Excess energy, like excess heat in humans, would simply be radiated away by our bodies. Yet I sense you are not engaging in idle speculation to pass the time, Captain Lennox.”
“Damn straight.” He turned a slow circle as he spoke, addressing each of the Autobots as well as Kaminari. “Consider what’s here, in this supposedly ‘empty’ part of the world. Uranium. For Decepticons, a potential source of more power than they need simply to live. Just as exists at the Kariba–Cahorra complex. Now, according to the maps and information I just pulled up, what underlies the whole eastern face of the Andes? Oil and natural gas. Another potential source of a big external energy burst.” He paused briefly to let his words sink in.
“Hydroelectric, fissionables, hydrocarbons. All vast, concentrated sources of energy. All located far from populated areas where exploitation of similar resources would draw attention from nearby human residents. Localities where Decepticons operating undercover could exploit and draw on whatever they find. And the only thing that links all three otherwise highly diverse locations with Decepticon activity.”
“But why? To what end?” Kaminari challenged him. “The Decepticons’ energy needs are no greater than those of the Autobots, and we don’t see them hoarding great stores. Just enough for emergencies. Why would they need to overload themselves, as Ironhide just pointed out, with a potentially dangerous surfeit of power?”
Lennox eyed her fixedly. “I’m sure Ironhide’s right. They wouldn’t need the supply of excess power for themselves. They’d store it up for something else. Something incapable of renewing its depleted spark without an external boost, without a kick-start, from outside. Like a human needing a shot from a defibrillator. You’d need a helluva lot of power to do the same kind of thing for a Decepticon or an Autobot.” He looked expectantly at the leader of the Autobots. “Wouldn’t you, Optimus?”
The big truck revved its engine loudly before offering a single-word reply.
“Megatron.”
For a moment, silence returned to a particularly isolated corner of the Outback. It was broken by an intensely thoughtful Ironhide.
“Restoring a Spark by delivering a precisely focused burst of external power is theoretically possible. One way would be via a combined, simultaneous discharge from a number of heavily over-energized Decepticons. But I am not sure the kind of concentrated energy required could be derived from human-based resources. Only your Large Hadron Collider might generate sufficient power, and it is being carefully monitored by NEST. No matter how clever the camouflage it might adopt, not even a single Decepticon could get near it, especially when it is in operation.
“I suppose a concentrated burst of stored power might be capable of reactivating a spark. But I calculate that even in a best-case scenario the revived individual would not be fully responsive. The need to conserve the transferred energy would result in a revivification that was incomplete at most.”
Lennox and Kaminari pondered the Autobot’s assessment, but it was Optimus who commented. “We have been operating under a false assumption. We have proceeded from the incorrect belief that Starscream holds complete control over all the Decepticons here on Earth. Therefore we have been seeking connections where none exist. The dam was just a trap; this is something different.
“Starscream is de facto leader of the Decepticons, but only because of Megatron’s death. He succeeded to the throne; he did not earn it. Due to the ambitious nature of the Decepticons as a whole, it will not be long before one or more rise to challenge him. His skills are formidable, but he would not be able to withstand a coup. It has happened before, as we Autobots well remember.
“He will need to prove his ability to hold that position. He needs to establish unquestionable primacy for the Decepticons to continue following him. He can only do this by destroying me and the remaining Autobots here on Earth. That would be sufficient to uphold his claim among most of his kind. But failing in that, and happily so far he has, he will be tested.
“We must now anticipate that there are potentially two Decepticon factions here on Earth. Those loyal to Starscream, such as we found at the dam in Africa, and a rogue element seeking some way, however tenuous, to restore their rightful leader. Given his arrogance, I doubt Starscream even realizes the plot that is unfolding beneath his feet. He has always felt that leadership was his birthright; he does not even conceive that others do not share this lofty view of his vaunted self. While we can, we must exploit this lack of enthusiasm for Starscream’s new role.
“In the meantime, we must prevent the others from accessing the uranium deposits here, and we must then try to anticipate where they will seek it next.”
While the need for some kind of road to accommodate Optimus restricted their searching somewhat, the big diesel proved adept at negotiating even the narrowest cattle-driving tracks. A surprising number of the latter crisscrossed the area they were exploring.
It was not until several days after learning of the ferocious confrontation in the Peruvian cloud forest led by Sergeant Epps that they came upon the excavation. While Autobot engines raced quietly as the three trucks pulled over onto the side of the
road, Lennox and Kaminari climbed out to examine the odd dark splotch that marred the slope of the hill off to the west.
Lowering his binoculars, Lennox found himself unable to pronounce judgment. “What do you think, Kami?”
She let fall the monocular she was using. “I don’t know what to say, Lennox. Previously I would have been all for charging in with weapons raised. Of course, that’s what we did at the suspicious site we encountered two days ago and I’m still not certain the innocent rockhounds we found camped there have wholly forgiven us, despite the hush money you were authorized to pay out.” She shook her head at the memory. “That one elderly gentleman would still be chasing you with his pickaxe had not Salvage intervened.”
“I felt I had no choice,” declared the pickup from behind them.
Lennox hastened to reassure the Autobot. “I don’t think the old boy could have caught me, Salvage, but you did what you thought was best. Fortunately, since in your excitement you forgot to rez up a driver, he bought my explanation that you accidentally shifted out of neutral. And you barely bumped him. Thank goodness for NEST’s discretionary field fund.”
Kaminari nodded. “His anger level fell considerably when you handed him that money.” Once again she raised the monocular to peer through its precision eyepiece.
“It was my fault.” Ironhide’s deep voice echoed across the open plain. “Sensing the presence of radioactives and seeing vehicles on the site, I jumped to conclusions.”
“Any one of us could have made the same mistake,” Optimus reminded him.
“That is so. But any one of you did not make the same mistake. I did.”
“The important thing,” insisted Lennox, “is that no one was hurt. And that none of the weekenders noticed there were no drivers in any of you until you realized they were harmless and rezzed some up.”
“Hai,” agreed Kaminari. “Also that they did not notice that the ‘drivers’ in all three of you looked exactly alike.”
“Salvage’s creation appeared suitable.” Optimus sounded nonplussed. “Given the need to generate an image of a human driver quickly, neither Ironhide nor I saw any harm in copying his projection.”