CHAPTER TWO
--Detroit--
Until today, Isaac Sumdac had never quite known what it felt like to be betrayed.
In hindsight, he knew he shouldn't have been so stupid. But the stress of declining sales and profit had gotten to him so much that when his chairman had suggested he take a three-week vacation, he was more than happy to seize the opportunity for some much needed relaxation.
Had his daughter not been in another state taking summer courses at university, perhaps she would have been able to make him see what Powell was planning. But now his three weeks were up and there was no reversing the damage that had been done.
Where Sumdac Tower had once stood for many years now existed a tall black building with a giant electric sign proudly displayed on its front. Only four letters were built into the sign but they nonetheless sent Sumdac's heart sinking into dread and despair.
Onyx.
His hands wet with perspiration, his suitcase slipped from his grip and its contents spilled onto the sidewalk. He didn't care about that however as he stormed up to the front doors of the imposing building. As a short, plump man in his sixties, he probably did not at all look intimidating... but that wasn't going to stop him from giving Powell a piece of his mind.
Barging past the revolving doors, Sumdac did not have much further to walk as Powell was standing right there at the front desk, chatting with people who were most certainly not employees of his. Upon noticing Sumdac, Powell broke out that trademark "charming" grin of his. Sumdac would not fall for it this time.
"Isaac! You're back!" Powell spread his arms open in greeting. "How was--"
"Porter Cyprus Powell!" Sumdac's outburst caught everyone present off-guard, including Powell himself. "What in God's name have you done to my business?"
"Huh? Oh." Powell hid his initial shock behind a smirk, if barely. "Yes, we've made some... renovations while you were away. Didn't want to throw it onto the stress you were already going through, so we thought maybe--"
"I should've known you'd sell out to Blackrock," Sumdac said darkly. "What with all of your other ventures with the likes of Biotech and Epsilon."
"Isaac, relax! Ever since our merger with Onyx, our profits have gone through the roof! Besides, I thought you were open to making a deal with Blackrock."
"On my own terms!" Sumdac snapped. "You had no right to go behind my back and--"
The rest of his rant was drowned out by the roar of an engine. Sumdac turned around to see a black semi truck pull up outside the building, its red tinted windows obscuring its occupants. The shotgun door opened to allow a sharply-dressed man to step out, making sure strides towards the entrance.
Powell smirked as Garrison Blackrock walked in. "Well, Isaac, you're welcome to voice your misgivings to him in person."
"Ah! Mr. Sumdac, I presume?" Blackrock stepped up to a gobsmacked Sumdac, extending a hand. "Garrison Blackrock, at your service. It's an honor to finally meet you in person."
Without thinking, Sumdac shook the proffered hand, his anger washed away by confusion. "I'm... I'm terribly sorry," he murmured, wiping a hand over his forehead. "I'm afraid I don't know what's going on."
"Not to worry," Blackrock said, slipping a hand over Sumdac's shoulders as he guided the shorter man to the elevators. "We can discuss things in your office."
"Yes, yes, of course," Sumdac said, not at all concerned that he was starting to feel drowsy for some inexplicable reason. "That sounds like a very good idea...."
--Autobot Base--
"Okay, what say we get this perfectly straight, yeah? I'm Bumblebee."
"No," said the yellow Autobot standing across from him. "I'm Bumblebee."
"No." The other yellow Autobot wagged his finger. "No, no. You can't be. Because I am."
"You can keep saying it, but that doesn't make it true."
Arcee banged her head against the railing she was standing at. "This was a mistake."
Autobots and human allies alike watched with varying expressions as the two Bumblebees argued back and forth. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker happily munched on energon sticks as they watched, while Agent Fowler massaged his temples in exasperation. The other humans whom the Autobots had made friends with -- Sari, Jack, Raf, Miko, and Charlie -- stood nearby looking utterly baffled by what they were witnessing.
"Does this remind anyone else of that Mark Twain story?" Raf whispered. "The Prince and the Pauper? Anyone?"
"Raf," Jack hissed. "Time and place."
"Okay, okay." The first Bumblebee raised his hands as he took a moment to collect himself. "Let's try something else. Do you happen to know anyone by the name Zizza?"
The other Bumblebee shook his head. "No, I don't."
"Oh? Then where did you come from?"
"I... I don't know." Bumblebee-2 rubbed his helm. "I don't remember much before waking up on Earth."
"How did you get your name then?"
"Charlie gave it to me. She said I sounded like a bumblebee."
At this, Sideswipe laughed loudly. Both Bumblebees glared at him but the red Autobot simply continued to snicker. The original Bumblebee sighed as he rolled his optics.
"Well, that's not quite how I go mine, but... whatever." He thought for a moment before saying, "Hang on. You met Charlie thirty years ago, right?"
"Yeah?"
"But you were active for many years before that. What did people call you back then?"
"Well, my operating number was B-127," said the other Bumblebee. "Most called me 'Bee' for short."
"B-127? And who gave you that name?"
Bumblebee-2 shrugged. "Optimus Prime, I guess. He was my commanding officer."
"Where's your Optimus now?" Arcee asked, looking up.
"He fell in battle, roughly a century ago. In fact, as far as I know, I'm the last of my crew here on Earth."
Mulling over this, Bumblebee looked over to Fowler. "Does Sector Seven have any files on Cybertronian activity before we -- my crew and I -- awakened on Earth?"
"As a matter of fact, yeah," said Fowler. "Heck, that's why Sector Seven formed in the first place; to keep extraterrestrial threats like you out of the public eye."
"Yeah, Sector Seven and I have a bit of a history," muttered Bumblebee-2. "Not all of it good."
"What kind of Cybertronian activity are we talking about?" Arcee asked Fowler.
"We'd be here all day if I went through everything," Fowler replied. "Besides, most of it stopped after the Eighties. We'd thought we'd seen the last of you guys until 2013 came around."
"Even so, I think it would be handy in figuring out what this Bumblebee's deal is."
Fowler sighed. "I'll give the Director a call. You know he's still not quite happy with having you guys around again."
"I don't think he's ever been...."
While Fowler walked away, Bumblebee turned back to his doppelganger. "Listen... I hate to break this to you -- and I know this is a lot to take in -- but we need to call you something other than 'Bumblebee.' 'Cos otherwise this'll just get confusing."
"As if it wasn't already," the other Bumblebee said wryly. "That said... there is another name I used to go by; a codename I operated under during my spy days."
"All right, let's hear it."
"Goldwheels. ...Or maybe it was Goldbug. Either way, I prefer Goldwheels."
Bumblebee smiled. "Goldwheels it is then. And while we're at it... maybe we could make a few cosmetic tweaks? Again, just to avoid confusion."
Goldwheels chuckled. "Way ahead of you." He twisted a dial on his arm and his body was instantly coated in gold. His helmet shifted to a blue hue while a mouthplate fell over his face.
Bumblebee nodded approvingly. "That'll do it, I think."
"Man," Raf breathed. "Twain's got nothing on this."
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