EIGHT: ANOTHER SYSTEMATIC NIGHTMARE
Earth
“Slow down, Expanse. What are you trying to say—”
“We have to destroy the Timemaze!” Expanse cried, struggling against Optimus Prime as the Autobot leader held his hands to his chest. “It’s a ticking time bomb!”
“We can’t even get it to turn back on,” said Brainstorm, standing at the device itself as he and Perceptor analyzed it. “Ever since Prowl and Sari went through, it’s been as dead as Trailbreaker on a good night.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Expanse said. “So long as it remains intact, then others with quantum technology can connect to it and use it to reach our universe. Even my transwarp drive is a danger to us all for that very same reason!”
“Please, calm yourself, Expanse,” Optimus said softly. “Tell us what happened. What did Bug Bite do to you?”
“I don’t remember much,” Expanse muttered. “I just remember him activating my transwarp drive, and then that bounty hunter—Death’s Head I believe his name was—pulled me out of unspace so he could bring me back to his employers. I have no idea what happened to Bug Bite. I spent most of the time in and out of consciousness. As soon as he was distracted, I jumped back here.”
“And what about all of that led you to the conclusion that the Timemaze needed to be destroyed?” Perceptor asked.
“It’s less to do with the Timemaze itself specifically, and more to do with all of the quantum technology we have on our hands. The more we use things like my transwarp drive, the more vulnerable our universe becomes to intruders—people from other realities who wish to do us harm. If we destroy the Timemaze as well as my transwarp drive, then we can save ourselves from further catastrophe.”
“That does sound like a good idea,” said Brainstorm. “But we need to find Prowl and Sari first. Once we get the Timemaze back online, we can use it to find them and bring them back home.”
Expanse shook his head. “It’s probably already too late for them. The more time we waste, then the more time our enemies have to use the Timemaze against us!”
Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can place some Autobots around the Timemaze to make sure that no one comes throught—at least not anyone we don’t want. But we are not going to abandon our allies.”
Brainstorm looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, and also, wasn’t Sari the one to bring you back home? Surely you owe her that much….”
Expanse frowned at this, dipping his head. “You’re right. I apologize. I… I should have realized….”
“Don’t worry about,” Optimus said. “I understand that this is a stressful situation—even moreso for you given everything you’ve been through. Just have faith, my friend.”
After a moment of studying the console connected to the Timemaze, Perceptor turned around to face Optimus. “I’m afraid there is not much I can do here. This device is far too complex for me to understand.”
“Yeah, same here,” said Brainstorm. “And I’m the one who’s actually made a time machine….”
Optimus nodded. “I understand. I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, but I’m afraid there is only one bot we can turn to for help.”
“Oh, no,” Brainstorm muttered. “You’re not suggesting…?”
Optimus raised a hand to his comm. “Ironhide, bring Tarantulas out of his cell and escort him to the command center. And make sure he doesn’t pull any tricks this time….”
Functionist Cybertron
“This is just great.” Treds fired his turret at another incoming Functionary, which succeeded more in slowing them down than it did injuring them. “Seems like we just exchanged one dystopian Cybertron for another!”
The eleven of them were surrounded in the streets of Iacon on all sides by enforcers of the Functionist Council. Civilians looked on, with some even trying to ignore the commotion and carry on with their day, as if fearing that they would be punished for even paying attention to it.
Prowl hurled a shuriken at a Functionary, who obliterated it with his cannon. “Honestly, I think we had better odds back in Axiom Nexus,” he remarked. “At least then we could reason with others on a somewhat personal level.”
Maverick fired a rocket at Prowl’s opponent, which seemed to at least knock them back. “Hey, Gigawatt!” he called down to the silver mech. “Any time you could use your time machine thingy would be great!”
“And do what?” Gigawatt snapped over the firing of his gun. “I don’t know this Cybertron or this timeline. And even then, I can only transport myself. I can’t take anyone else with me!”
“I dunno, maybe go back and give the Functionists a five-finger greeting. Teach them a lesson or two.”
Gigawatt shook his head. “It’s no use. The conditions aren’t right for me to travel anywhere in time. Face it, we’re doomed.”
“Not with that attitude, my friend!”
From out of nowhere, a blue tank came barreling out of the crowd. Much larger then Treds, its turret was armed with a larger cannon as well as missile pod carrying six rockets. Taking aimed, it unleashed its arsenal on the Functionaries, taking them down one by one. Before long, a path was cleared, presenting a way out of Iacon.
“Follow me to Kalis!” their rescuer said as he began to roll forward. “We will find refuge there!”
Seeing no reason to argue, Prowl and his companions transformed to their alternate modes and followed the stranger through the path he had cleared for them.
It was a long drive, and few words were exchanged for fear of being found again by the Functionists. Fortunately, they faced no further resistance and eventually reached the city-state of Kalis. While it bore some resemblance to the Kalis that Prowl was familiar with on his Cybertron, it was distinguished by a giant gold statue of Adaptus overseeing the rest of the city. Prowl idly wondered whether or not the Adaptus of this universe was still around and up to the same schemes he had been back in his home reality….
At the foot of the statue was the entrance to a turbolift, which the eleven bots and Sari all took to the very top of the monolith. Within the head of the statue was a wide meeting room, occupied by various bots of different types.
Their rescuer transformed again, taking on the form of a wide-chested bot with a head evocative of Optimus Prime. “Welcome to Adaptica,” he said. “You will be safe here.”
“Thanks for the save,” Prowl said. “I don’t think I caught your name.”
“These days, I go by Reverse Convoy. I am the leader of the Anti-Vocationist League.”
“The AVL? I didn’t realize they were still around….”
“The Functionists may try to act like we are non-existent, but our movement is still going strong.” Reverse Convoy extended a hand. “And you would be?”
“Prowl. And I know it’s going to be hard to believe, but… my friends and I aren’t from around here.”
“What do you mean?”
“We come from another universe. A universe where the Functionists aren’t in charge of Cybertron.”
“Hm.” Reverse Convoy tilted his head. “Believe it or not, I do actually believe you. It’s long been rumored that the Functionists have made major advancements in transwarp technology. It would not surprise me if interdimensional travel is indeed possible.”
“So there is a chance we can find a way back home?” Prowl asked. “Back to our home universe?”
“Perhaps. I would have to bring this knowledge to Nine-of-Twelve to see if—”
“Nine-of-Twelve?” Road Ranger exclaimed. “You’re in league with a Functionist?!”
“I understand that it may be hard to believe.” Everyone turned to see a bronze-colored bot enter the room. He was similar in design to Twelve-of-Twelve, with a cape draping his body as well. “However, my… colleagues and I no longer see eye-to-eye these days. It is because of me that the AVL is able to function here safely, away from their wrath.”
“Yeah?” said Knightride. “And what’s stopping them from just blasting you?”
“Because they need me,” Nine-of-Twelve said simply. “Now then, how may I be of assistance?”
Hesitating only briefly, still wary of the councilor, Prowl explained to him their story; starting from when Sari had been abducted through the Timemaze all the way to their betrayal by Alpha Trion in Axiom Nexus. When he was done, Nine-of-Twelve simply stood there, holding his chin in his hand.
After a moment, the councilor spoke. “I am… aware of a device similar to this Timemaze.”
“You are?” Prowl asked, surprised.
“Yes. Some time ago, our Enactor—Six-of-Twelve—ordered our scientists to begin developing a device that would allow for interdimensional travel. He claimed that this would allow us to reach Primus and bring enlightenment to Cybertron and her people.”
“The religious sort, is he?”
“You could say most of us are,” Nine-of-Twelve said. “But Six-of-Twelve has always been the most… devoted one of us all, especially after he claimed the Matrix of Leadership.”
“I suppose it’s only fair that I ask for your story then…?”
Nine-of-Twelve bowed his head. “I suppose it is….”
Nine-of-Twelve’s Tale
Eons ago, in Cycle 7814, both Sentinel Prime and Trannis fell in combat during the final battle of the Great War. No one knows what it was that killed them, but all that remained of them were a few scattered pieces… and the Matrix of Leadership.
Naturally, many fought over each other to claim it. Sentinel Prime had never named a successor, and the Decepticons saw an opportunity to rob the Autobots of their so-called “bauble.” After a bloody fight, the Autobots managed to recover the Matrix and bring down the Decepticons, whose empire had quickly collapsed with the loss of their leader.
It was decided by the High Council that Ultra Magnus would hold stewardship over the Matrix until a true successor could be determined, just as Delta Magnus had held the Matrix for Nova Prime in his absence. However, Six-of-Twelve saw a weakness in the High Council’s leadership and decided to exploit it. At his command, we made our move against the Autobots and quickly usurped command, invoking ancient Cybertronian doctrine in order to justify our actions. We disbanded the High Council, took stewardship of the Matrix of Leadership, and assumed full control of Cybertron.
The Decepticons were the first to react, but their resistance was quickly vanquished. The Autobots fell in line, having long recognized the authority of the Matrix, although dissent remained. Their voices were silenced as well.
Over the next several thousand years, we solidified our rule, with increasingly more authoritarian acts. Obsolescence chips, rewriting of the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy… I had played along with it at first, because I had genuinely believed that what we were doing was the right thing to do. We were bringing unity to Cybertron; order to a planet that had long known nothing but chaos.
But everything changed… when we discovered the Useless One’s purpose.
You may know of him as Rung in your reality. But the Useless One, as his supporters called him, posed a threat to our rule. How could we make the claim that every Cybertronian served a purpose, when this one had none? We kept him in chains, away from public eye, until we could figure out what his purpose was. This only further fueled dissent, as the people slowly began to realize that they were being lied to.
Then, two years ago, a hapless sanitation bot made a discovery that led us to determine Rung’s true purpose: that he was the source of those constructed cold—whom we had long since decommissioned—and that of the Matrix of Leadership itself.
Upon learning this, One-of-Twelve made the decision of executing Rung, not wanting this knowledge to be made public. Many on the Council were upset with him for not convening with the rest of us as was his function, but the point quickly became moot. Before long, word of Rung’s execution got out and the resistance only grew stronger. Before long, the AVL wasn’t the only resistance cell operating on Cybertron; it was only the largest.
While the rest of the Council absolved One-of-Twelve of his actions so we could focus on crushing the resistance, I remained the lone voice of dissent. I called out the blasphemy and hypocrisy of my colleague’s actions. If Rung was indeed the source of the Matrix of Leadership, then it meant he had a purpose—a pious purpose at that. We had become closer to Primus than we had ever dreamed. But Six-of-Twelve insisted that the real Primus was still out there, and that Rung had merely been a ruse. A distraction.
I had had enough of the hypocrisy. I stepped down from the Council and retreated here to Kalis, where I joined the Anti-Vocationist League after proving to them that my change of heart was genuine. The others do not dare harm me, for they need me in order to unlock their—our true purpose. We are the Key to Vector Sigma.
* * *
“Hold up.” Prowl raised his hands, interrupting Nine-of-Twelve’s tale. “Did you say the Key to Vector Sigma?”
“Yes. When combined, the twelve of us can activate the ancient computer that lies at the heart of Cybertron. Are you aware of such a thing in your universe?”
“I am,” Prowl said. “The key is just that. A key. A simple device that you or I can hold. We don’t need a bunch of bots to combine to activate Vector Sigma; we certainly didn’t it when we restored Cybertron.”
The light of Nine-of-Twelve’s optic dimmed slightly. “Well… perhaps things are certainly different in your universe.”
“Maybe. Except for the fact that you guys exist—well, existed—in our universe as well. So if you combined to form the key there as you do here… then why have another one that does the same thing?”
To this, Nine-of-Twelve had no answer. He kept his head bowed, as if deep in thought. His lack of facial features made his expression unreadable—nonexistent, rather.
Cutting through the silence, Reverse Convoy said, “Now might be a good time to introduce us to the rest of your crew. I’m especially intrigued by that flying Mini-Con of yours.”
“Her name is Sari,” Prowl said. He chose not to elaborate further on her nature. “The rest are Gigawatt, Knightride, Ectotron, Maverick, Small Foot, Path Finder, Road Ranger, Treds, Bad Boy, and….”
He paused as he counted the heads of all those that were gathered. There was someone missing. Shouldn’t there have been one more…?
A frown crossed his face. “Where is Bug Bite?”
* * *
“How could you have let them get away?! The more we let these insurgents slip through our fingers, the more we lose our hold over the population!”
“Calm yourself, Ten-of-Twelve,” intoned Four-of-Twelve, the Moderator of the Functionist Council. “Heightened emotions will not provide results—”
“Stow it, Four-of-Twelve,” Ten-of-Twelve snapped. “I am sick of slipping standards. We need to hold our own accountable.”
The eleven members of the Functionist Council were gathered in their meeting chamber within the Cog, their floating headquarters which oversaw Cybertron. Bug Bite watched the meeting unfold through the eye of Twelve-of-Twelve, who still had his cerebro-shell drilled firmly in place. Bug Bite noticed that there was a vacant chair but chose not to dwell on it, instead focusing on the Functionists’ conversation.
“If we are going to bring up the topic of accountability,” said Two-of-Twelve, “then we need to keep in mind that this all started due to One-of-Twelve’s actions.”
“Reopening old wounds serves no purpose,” said Seven-of-Twelve. “I thought we had agreed to not mention that incident ever again.”
“It is hard to ignore when it is the catalyst of our present situation.”
“Enough,” Six-of-Twelve spoke up. He sat directly across from Twelve-of-Twelve, and Bug Bite saw that his head was shaped like the Matrix of Leadership. He wondered if it was just for show, or if he had literally built the Matrix into his head. “Twelve-of-Twelve, I trust that you will correct your mistake and increase your efforts to locate and apprehend these insurgents.”
“Of course,” Twelve-of-Twelve replied at Bug Bite’s whim.
“Good. It is clear that these insurgents do not have obsolescence chips, for whatever reason. It is possible they have already been surgically removed. In that case, we will need to rely on the Functionaries using lethal force in order to eliminate them.”
“If I may make a suggestion,” said Ten-of-Twelve. “I believe it might be time to rearm and deploy the Primal Vanguard.”
Six-of-Twelve steepled his fingers. “The Primal Vanguard has already been reassigned for surveillance. We no longer have need for a military force.”
“Don’t we? The worsening situation with the Anti-Vocationist League and the other resistance cells suggest otherwise. This may require force that the Functionaries are currently unable to provide. Besides, with their current modifications made for surveillance, they will be even more efficient in tracking down and locating the insurgents.”
“I concur with this idea,” said Eight-of-Twelve, the Disseminator. “I can have the Convoy and their units primed and ready for battle within the next cycle.”
The others joined in with their agreement and Six-of-Twelve bowed his head. “Very well. It is decided. We shall ready the Primal Vanguard and have them strike the AVL’s location in Kalis by nightfall.”
“What of Nine-of-Twelve?” asked Two-of-Twelve. “Is he not still with the insurgents?”
“We will inform the Vanguard to bring him in alive. If he refuses to comply….” Six-of-Twelve’s optic dimmed. “Then Primus have mercy on all of Cybertron.”
One-of-Twelve recited the minutes and the meeting was adjourned. Bug Bite willed Twelve-of-Twelve to rise from his seat and exit the room. He knew that there was more to this reality that he had yet to uncover, and he intended on getting to the bottom of it. So long as he still had control over the councilor, he would get his answers.
And then, perhaps, he would finally be able to find the perfect world he had sought for so long…
No comments:
Post a Comment