Now this story took almost three years to finally complete - partly because of doing tons of research and angsting about getting things "right"; and also because of long frustrating stretches where I couldn't make any progress. Hope you like ocean imagery.
Four main chapters plus an epilogue; features Optimus Prime, Perceptor, Jazz, Bumblebee, Seaspray, Beachcomber, Hound, and Skids.
Also linked on AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31...pters/79172053
Premise: An Autobot survey team discovers an anomaly in the Oregon coast seafloor. But what is it? Who made it? Why is it there? How did it get there? Where did it come from… and when?
Chapter 1: Surfing the Waves
- May 9, 1996
Local news felt optimistic about a week after a strong earthquake shook the Pacific Northwest. Only minor injuries and property damage were reported, and the Autobots were grateful their Sky Spy satellite found no Decepticon activity in the area - not even Rumble, the usual suspect. Yet, knowing surveillance from atmospheric altitudes could miss details at lower levels, scouts were sent to look for ground-based incidents like aftershocks, and offer help if needed. And though the Autobots had very few candidates suited for the waters west of their volcano headquarters, they knew a fault line not far from the coast meant the marine factor couldn’t be ignored. Besides, with the Decepticons having established their own base on an ocean floor, such a setting could give them plenty of practice for deadly underwater operations.
Watch for everything, prepare for anything, hope for nothing. That was Seaspray’s approach to his patrol duty in the Oregon coastal waters, whether cruising the surface as a hovercraft, or diving into the depths in his somewhat rotund robot mode. Being the only sailor on the Autobots’ roster didn’t concern him, nor did he feel being one of the smaller Autobots was a detriment. He enjoyed this environment too much to care about a lack of back-up for his assignment; while he had no intent to directly engage an enemy, his laser cannons were sufficient defense before breaking for safety. Unlike Cosmos - whose space-faring alt-mode and orbital recon function kept him away from his fellow Autobots for interminably lonely stretches - he didn’t feel alone in his naval missions while having the oceans all to himself. Though Seaspray performed his job to the peak of his abilities, he couldn’t resist sneaking in a few aquatic sightseeing breaks.
Each plunge under the waves or surf past a habitat uncovered a new opportunity to witness new sights, behaviors, and interactions of the countless species unique to this borderless biome. A giant octopus with its arms spread wide and flat, soaring through the deep like a kite. The cacophonous barks of seals herding densely on rocky islets. Scallops fluttering over coral reefs, escaping sluggish sea stars in pursuit. The clicking language among a pod of dolphins hunting their meals near a bed of sea grass. Glistening shoals of sardines in desperate self-defense against a two-pronged feast by dashing marlins and dive-bombing seabirds. The sheer awe of swimming by a blue whale - the animal’s length several times his size! - swallowing gaping mouthfuls from cloud-like masses of tiny krill. Even while scanning the Axial Seamount undersea volcano, the Autobot couldn’t resist a nearby hydrothermal vent, where colonies of tubeworms fed on black mineral smoke billowing like a chimney from the rugged ocean floor.
After a week-long patrol of tracking seismic activity and spotting no Decepticons, Seaspray wanted one last scenic stop - a kelp forest - before reporting to Autobot Headquarters. He activated the twin propellers atop the assembly mount on his shoulders, and hovered at low speed among the tall, slender stipes of the tree-like algae, taking care to avoid tangling the kelp or disturbing the creatures living there. Seals and small sharks slithered through the kelp looking for meals. Crabs and shrimp clambered over rocky beds lined with clusters of sea anemones and dotted with purple spiny sea urchins. Seaspray himself was entranced by the hypnotic, undulating movements of a delicate feather star fluttering into his field of vision… until his mind snapped back to reality by a wolf eel darting out of a crevice and zipping back to its den. Though he was a smaller Autobot, he was too big to get a good look at the smaller life forms nestled in the nooks. Maybe if Perceptor came along with his magnification powers, or a human diver joined him, he could better access those details hiding in those secretive niches.
No matter how often Seaspray visited the sea, the biodiverse mosaic never failed to stimulate his visual sensors. To his memory, nothing like this existed on his home planet of Cybertron. He would have loved to share these mesmerizing views with the other Autobots and their human friends. Though the Autobots were “alien” guests on Earth, this environment would appear just as “alien” to humans as it would to a Cybertron native. It made Seaspray wonder why human scientists were searching for “alien” life (besides the Autobots) on other worlds like Mars, while the oceans on their own planet - so little of it explored by humans - harbored an “alien” world just waiting to be discovered. He might consider helping lead some new undersea exploration missions, if he had more time... like after the war against the Decepticons ended, if it ever did.
But for now, as the tide was receding, Seaspray realized he was due to report to base. Exiting the kelp forest through a clearing, he gunned his back-mounted propellers to rise to the surface, transformed to hovercraft mode, and reluctantly skimmed for the shore. As he passed a cluster of rock formations on his way to the shallows, not far from a cliff marked by a lighthouse, he activated his detection array to run one more sweep of the coast near the beach.
Ping.
Surprise. He suddenly cut his engines and slowed to a stop, not expecting to find anything this late in the mission. He ran his array again to make sure it wasn’t a false reading.
Ping. His sonar did find something by a small rocky islet dwarfed by three much larger rocks - odd, because he had scanned that area before, but found nothing. The Autobot cautiously motored to the small island, radar and sonar on full to uncover anyone waiting in ambush. His sonar readings grew stronger as he reached the islet. No hostiles, thankfully. But he did pick up something mysterious, covering a large area - hidden inside one face of the stone base of the islet, spreading under the seafloor where the islet was anchored… and made of metal.
A metal deposit that size doesn’t occur naturally in this state, does it? But if it was buried here, why are there no signs of digging? And do the Decepticons know about it? With answers not immediately forthcoming, Seaspray’s only option was to report this finding to base right away. And to prevent his last question from being answered “yes”, it had to be in secret.
* * * * *
Back at the Ark, Skids was lost in thought during some exploration of his own, though with two main differences. Unlike the liquid seas of the physical world of Earth, his voyages were in the digital realms of cyberspace. And rather than being immersed in a marine environment, he was in a rotating seat bolted to the base’s floor, rapidly scouring page after page on one of Teletraan I’s secondary screens. In the split-second time for a human’s eyelids to blink, visual scanners and data receptors behind his blue optical lenses could register the contents of countless Web pages and store them in his expansive memory… and he could read even more within such a brief time, if the connection to the network could keep up with his clicks on the touchpad built into the computer deck. Still, he was so engrossed in his research, that he failed to notice Jazz entering the command centre.
“Hey, Skids; what’s shakin’ on the Web?”
Jazz got no reply. The only outward signs of life he could detect were the minuscule touches and taps of Skids’ finger along the touchpad, and the occasional slight nods or tilts of his head as he reacted to the pages shifting on the screen at an ephemeral pace.
“Yo, Skids. You readin’ me, man?”
Whatever busy activity buzzed in Skids’ cerebral processors remained opposite to the relative stillness of his body. With a concealed smirk, Jazz snuck his hand behind his colleague’s head, and gave him a couple quick light raps from his knuckle joints, jolting him out of his transfixed state with a startled yelp and a snap of his head toward the unexpected stimulus.
“Don’t do that, Jazz! I didn’t know you came in.”
“Sorry, professor; just checkin’ the premises to see if your mind’s gone absentee.”
The wisecrack was enough to settle Skids from his shock. “Amusing. I didn’t mean to ignore you; it’s just that I’ve been accessing so much information, that I have to give it my full attention to absorb it all. It’s amazing how easily you can jump between subject matters on this ‘Web’ the humans created. One moment, you’re reading about a comet appearing in the night sky; with a few clicks, there’s a report on an expedition on Mount Everest. And that’s not even a sliver of what I could scan in just a few astroseconds.”
“Looks like Wheeljack’s upgraded Sky Spy’s running without a hitch. I joke about his workshop accidents sometimes, but he sure got us the fastest wireless connection anyone can hope for.”
“Yes. I do feel sorry for our human friends, though; most of them are still stuck with telephone lines. At least the few who have cable don’t have to free their line if they want to make a phone call. Estimating the rate of how their online technology is developing, it may be a few decades before they even approach our level for ordinary domestic use.”
“Y’ever worry about working too hard, or thinking too hard, for that matter? Why not take a break and go for a spin, just to unwind once in a while? Or check out a flick at a drive-in, even if only a few are still running these days.”
“I might. But there’s so much research I want to do, I’m not sure if I’d ever get around to it.”
“Hey, that’s cool. I’ll probably check out
Independence Day when it opens.”
“I’ve seen the trailer; likely another summer action blockbuster without much intellectual stimulation. If you wish to see it, suit yourself, but don’t expect me to come along.”
“No prob; I hear there’s one called
Contact being made. Maybe that’s more your thing.”
“The one based on Carl Sagan’s book? I may consider it. Though surely you’re not mentioning it to patronize me, are you?”
“Nah, man; I wanna see it, too.”
A thought came to Skids’ mind, as he slumped back in his seat. “You know, as fascinating as I find humans, they lack logic and consistency in myriad ways. Take something relatively minor as motion picture entertainment, like the films you mentioned. Both have themes of humans and extraterrestrials interacting, usually based on their old question of ‘are we alone’, correct?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“However, they
do know we exist: both us Autobots
and the Decepticons. Yet they continue to produce entertainment based on themselves meeting so-called ‘aliens’ as if we’re not here. If they want to create a work about a civilization not of their own world, why not simply ask us?”
“Remember that time a movie studio hired some of us? Ain’t nobody wanna sequel to that.”
Just then, an electronic warning sounded as Teletraan I’s giant main screen came to life with a large flashing Autobot symbol. “Alert. Alert,” the computer spoke in a mechanical tone. “Incoming transmission from naval unit Seaspray on secure frequency.”
Jazz raised his wrist-mounted communicator, knowing this message had to be highly important if it was on an encrypted channel. “Jazz calling Optimus Prime; our waterbot’s on the horn with something. Better get here fast, chief.” After deactivating his comlink, he punched a few keys on Teletraan’s main control panel, allowing a single white horizontal line to stretch across the middle of the main screen. “Patched ya in, Cap’n Nemo; Boss’s on his way here.”
“Reading you clear, Jazz,” came Seaspray’s gurgling voice; the line on Teletran’s screen reacted in a waveform with each sound from his transmission. “Prime’s got to hear about this. I think I just found a mysterious treasure.”
“Mysterious treasure, eh?” wondered Skids as he swiveled in his seat to face the main screen. “You’ve just caught my interest.”
“And mine as well,” Optimus Prime added as he strode into the command centre, joining the two Autobots already there. “Report, Seaspray.”
“I’ve completed patrolling the southern end of the Juan de Fuca Ridge; present seismic activity is moderate. But on my way back to shore, I detected something unusual in the coast seafloor.”
“You mean
on the seafloor,” Skids attempted to correct him, “like perhaps a shipwreck.”
“Negative. It’s
in the seafloor, absorbed into the rock. My sonar indicates the object - if it is an object - may be metal, very large. It doesn’t look like it fits the area’s natural geology. Weirdest of all, nothing like this was here when I scanned it before.”
Whatever it was, Optimus knew an investigation was in order. “Stay on the line, Seaspray. I’ll assemble a team to join you.” He pushed the public address control on Teletraan I’s panel and spoke again. “Perceptor, Hound, Beachcomber, Bumblebee: report to command centre at once.”
Jazz was puzzled. “A big chunk of metal buried in the ocean floor? That
is a mystery in those not-so-deep depths. What’ya think it could be?”
“First impression: it could be a deposit of valuable resources,” Optimus suggested. “Worst-case scenario, however unlikely, may be a weapon or a trap planted by the Decepticons.”
“But that doesn’t take into account the fact that Seaspray reported never seeing it there before,” Skids countered. “We would also have to consider why the Decepticons would hide something in such an impractical location. Not to mention, there would have to be signs of excavation to signify this anomalous object was deliberately buried.”
“Still, I wouldn’t put it past the Deceps to have something to do with it,” said Jazz. “They’ve hatched some truly outrageous plots before; that could be the tip of one real big alloy iceberg.”
As the discussion continued, four more Autobots arrived in the command centre to meet the others already present. As expected, Bumblebee was the most eager of the squad, unable to resist a “What’s up, Prime?” as they gathered near Teletraan I.
Rather than take the floor as a second-hand reporter, Optimus chose to direct the Autobots’ attention straight to the source. “Seaspray?”
The waterlog-textured voice spoke through Teletraan’s sound outputs. “I’ve picked up something embedded in the ocean floor, right by Three Arch Rocks west of the northern Oregon Coast. According to my scanners, it’s about the size of a whale, and probably metallic.”
“Hm, that’s an ecologically sensitive area,” Beachcomber mused. “Still, I can dig a mission with biology instead of blasters. And the tide should be going out by the time we get there.”
Perceptor anticipated the call for his expertise in investigating Seaspray’s sighting. “This is a most curious scenario. Under the presumption that I am to supervise this expedition, I require assistance in ferrying the suitable equipment.”
“Shall I transmit a signal beacon to mark my location?”
“I don’t think so, Seaspray,” said Hound. “If any Decepticon scouts pick up your signal, this mission will be over before we even start. I can track your vital energy signature with my own scanners. And I’ve already mapped the Oregon Coast, so I know it well. There’s plenty of forest canopy to provide more than enough cover to get there, without the Decepticons spotting us.”
“Hey, Skids, why don’t you go along with ’em?” Jazz chimed in. “A science mission like this’d be a good time to go outside for a change."
Skids hesitated while considering the idea, since he couldn’t remember the last time he went on a survey project out in the field. But another factor compelled his choice. “Maybe, but no, thank you. I’d prefer to focus on my research here for now. There’s so much on the Web I find useful in developing new theories and future ideas. I might even find something that could be applied to whatever findings you bring back.”
“Don’t worry,” chuckled Bumblebee. “Not like you ever left the base
before we got the Web.”
“If I wasn’t trying to concentrate on my work, I’d almost resent that remark.”
As amusing as the light-hearted jab-fest was, Optimus had to cut in if the Autobots expected to accomplish anything related to the mission, before the Decepticons could have a chance to exploit Seaspray’s quarry. “That will do, everyone. Perceptor, as you presumed, you’re in charge of this assignment. Take any equipment you’ll need, and deploy your team on the double.”
* * * * *
Chapter 2: In Natural Elements
Seaspray didn't have long to wait for his support to arrive, but he did have a nice view of the shore while floating on the surface. Rocky formations of all sizes framed the wide coastal beach filling his visual feed. Some towered high like cliffs with jagged faces, topped with lush, green forest. Others sitting low to the sand blanketed far-reaching patches of the beach, carved by innumerable years of erosion from the surf into rough and irregular shapes. From this single view alone, Seaspray thought that if this mission allowed any spare time, Hound would easily want to spend it all admiring its tranquil, panoramic beauty.
With a handful of southerly blips appearing on his radar as his cue, the Autobot hovercraft quietly spun his propellers and coasted to shore. A forest green Jeep with a rear-mounted turret gun came driving down the beach, carrying a console resembling a visual monitor in its open-top passenger seat cabin. Following closely were a compact blue dune buggy bearing small gear components in its seating space, and a yellow VW Beetle with a red microscope secured to its front passenger seat with safety belt-like straps.
"We got here as soon as we could," Hound said, "and no Decepticons followed us, so we should be safe while we work."
“I’ve got Perceptor with me,” Bumblebee added. “Though I admit, this is the first time I’ve ever chauffeured a microscope.”
Beachcomber couldn’t wait to begin. “Well, let’s unload the gear and get started! I want to savor every astrosecond we got in this paradise.”
Seaspray transformed to robot mode as Bumblebee swung open his passenger side door. After the seat straps self-disengaged and retracted out of view, Seaspray reached inside to lift the microscope from the car seat. Once removed, the device quickly rose from Seaspray's hands, then transformed and rapidly grew into Perceptor's full-sized robot mode, landing effortlessly on the sand. While the science officer unloaded the console from Hound’s cabin, Beachcomber needed no such help as he shifted to robot mode, holding the gear modules in his hands. With all five Autobots now in robot mode, Perceptor found a spot on the beach to set down the console, and went to work on attaching the components Beachcomber handed to him.
"So where'd you say this sunken treasure was?" asked Beachcomber.
“That way,” said Seaspray as he pointed out to sea where a trio of colossal ocean rocks towered over the surface - giant stacks of erosion-worn basalt, each with an arch that gave the wondrous site its name, hewn out by natural forces over countless millennia. “It’s embedded in a smaller rock behind those big ones."
"Did you notice anything like a cloaking device in the vicinity?" Hound suggested. "You said the object suddenly appeared on your sonar; maybe the device malfunctioned, which could explain why you didn't see it before."
"I don’t think so. There were no signs of Decepticon activity since I began my marine patrol a week ago. Unless I've missed something in a remote sector, but that's not likely."
“Bumblebee, if you may hold still and look at those rocks,” Perceptor requested, standing up after assembling his console, “here’s where we make use of your exceptional visual prowess.”
Once Bumblebee turned his gaze as instructed, Perceptor carefully inserted the jack of a short, stem-shaped antenna into a tiny socket just under the left horn on the little Autobot's head. The science officer stooped down and activated the console, where a high-resolution image of the Three Arch Rocks formation appeared on the monitor screen. "Ah, the long-range visual input relay functions perfectly. Everything you observe through your optic sensors will be transmitted directly to my console here, where I shall monitor and record your progress."
"A living video camera, huh?” said Bumblebee. “I feel like that Cousteau guy Jazz talked about."
With the equipment ready, Perceptor laid out the mission. “These will be your assignments. Seaspray will lead Bumblebee and Beachcomber to dive to the area of interest. Once you have located this anomaly, you will determine and report all properties that you can measure. Hound, you will track their positions from here, and simultaneously scan our vicinity for any intruders. And Beachcomber, if we require any samples for further analysis, you will extract them."
“Actually, if you don’t mind,” said Beachcomber, “I found a tidepool nearby and I’d like to study its specimens. Just call me when the others’ve found what we’re looking for. After all, we don’t often get a chance to go into a field like this
without the Decepticons crashing the place.”
Though the key mission took priority, even Perceptor felt the geologist had a sound proposal. “Very well. Such opportunities for any scientific research should not be squandered.”
Perceptor turned his attention to his console’s visual monitor as the Autobots set out on their duties. Wanting to take advantage of his quiet study time, Beachcomber stooped down to peer into the shallow pits honed into a wide expanse of rough, low-lying rock covered in seaweed. Once submerged during high tide, these exposed pits were filled with sea water and all manner of invertebrate organisms. Hound stepped onto an empty space on the beach not far from the tidepool colony, and transformed to his Jeep mode. His rear-mounted turret gun switched to its scan setting and began rotating in place, sweeping around the horizon and the vast landscape.
"Well, how far down is it?” Bumblebee asked Seaspray, as they walked to the water.
"Not very deep, but it's only a neap tide, so we'll still be going under. We also need to be careful going there, because it’s a wildlife refuge, so water skiing is out of the question."
"Suits me fine; I remember what happened
last time I went water skiing with you. I’ll just use my hydrofoils Wheeljack installed. How do we get there without breaking the protection laws?"
"I didn’t see any enforcement officers today, but we should avoid drawing attention. We’ll go about half a mile straight from here, then dive under and swim the rest of the way."
“Sounds good to me. Lead on.”
Seaspray waded into the shallows, transformed to hovercraft mode, and skimmed ahead. Bumblebee switched to his VW Beetle form on the damp sand, and rolled into the water. With a brief burst of energy surging under each of his four fenders, his wheels suddenly retracted into his chassis, instantaneously replaced by short, narrow, ski-like hydrofoils, enabling him to coast along the surface like a motorboat. It didn’t take much effort for Bumblebee to catch up with Seaspray in his hydro-car configuration. But he sensed a benign taunt when his colleague began spinning in brisk, repeated circles around a spot on the water surface.
“Well, what took you so long?”
“Very funny, Mister ‘Avoid-Drawing-Attention’. Let’s just get to wherever we gotta go.”
Though Seaspray was clearly in his domain, Bumblebee’s own aquatic adaptability wouldn’t leave him outclassed. As they transformed to robot mode, a narrow translucent visor and an angular mouthguard slid over Bumblebee’s faceplate, before they plunged below the surface. Seaspray pressed a switch on his wrist, activating small lights in the twin propeller cowlings atop his shoulder mount. Aided by the twin spotlights guiding their path, Seaspray spun his propellers to push himself through the water, while Bumblebee swam right behind him.
As they travelled through the tide, a steady pinging pulsated in Seaspray’s sonar receptors like a slow heartbeat, growing louder until they reached the rocky face of a small rocky islet. Sea urchins, anemones, and plant-like algae were anchored to the submerged surface, with small fish nibbling away on the algae. The naval Autobot followed his sonar signals down to where the base of the islet joined the seafloor. “Sonar’s picking it up strongest here. This is it.”
Despite his reputed visual acuity, Bumblebee could not see anything except the aquatic habitat right in front of him. “But... how can there be anything down here? There’s a bunch of weird little creatures, but this rock doesn’t look like it was ever dug up.”
“Well, however it got here, sonar says it’s under this rock. We’ll have to map it out. I’ll alert Perceptor; you follow my lights with your optics, so he can get a good look at this.”
As Seaspray opened a radio channel, Bumblebee kept his watch on the undersea slope, with the sea urchins and anemones along the rocky surface….
* * * * *
The sea urchins and anemones along the rocky surface were not the only specimens in the tidepool that captured Beachcomber’s attention. As a smaller Autobot, though still much larger than an average human, he could still appreciate the wonder of the interactivity of the creatures in this transient habitat. A quiet yet spectacular color palette framed the isolated scene for him, with light browns from seaweed fronds tipped with air bladders, and scattered white patches from colonies of barnacles, contrasting starkly with the blacks and midnight blues from crowded sessile mussels, all occasionally dotted with a limpet or a chiton among them.
The geologist gingerly traced a fingertip with the slightest contact along the floral-like tentacles of a green sea anemone - an unwise move if he were human, but perfectly safe for a living robot immune to organic venom. As he gazed at the sea stars crawling along the rocky basin, he felt lulled into a sense of calm from following their lazy movement… which was broken by a snail shell ambling more quickly than it should. His confusion faded when he realized the shell was carried by the scuttling motion of little jointed limbs belonging to a hermit crab.
“Enjoying the sights?”
Beachcomber briefly looked to the source of the voice - the forest green Jeep nearby on the beach, its turret gun still rotating like a radar scanner - before peering back into the tidepool. “Like you wouldn’t believe, Hound. It’s so rare we get the chance to completely get away from the chaos of the war, and simply enjoy the beauty this planet has to offer. My science forte may be all minerals great and small, but the staggering diversity of this world’s species and their interaction with it never fails to amaze me.”
“You said it, Beachcomber. At least sometimes when I’m on a recon mission, I can sneak in a little sightseeing of my own. If not for the Decepticons, I could comb this entire world so many times over, just to scope out every landscape I could find. And I’d still never get tired of it.”
“So many places on Earth I wish I could visit. Just lose myself in a deep patch of the wild and fully immerse myself in it, take in every detail, nook, and cranny. Such a shame that some of those spots are so hard to reach ’cause the paths are so small for us Autobots. And I’d really hate to scare away the animals living there just by showing up.”
“It makes me wonder, you know? How much easier would it be to move around in some of those places if we were human? I’d certainly have an easier time visiting museums without hitting my head against the ceiling. And you’d have no trouble going wherever you wanted. You’d be in what I believe the humans call your ‘happy place.’”
“Happy place, huh? I can dig that. Yep, landscapes and habitats, Autobots and humans. Like I said, great and small. All comes together.”
“Yeah, and maybe - hold it….” The scanning gun on Hound’s rear mount stopped still, pointing to an upward angle to the high tree-topped cliff far to his right. “I’m picking up a small airborne object, incoming northwest from our position. My radar says it’s on the other side of that cliff.”
Beachcomber got up from leaning by the tidepool and hurried over to the military vehicle, anticipating impending trouble. “Is it Laserbeak? Buzzsaw?”
“Let me try my infrared… no, false alarm. The signature looks like it’s only a seabird. The readings register only the organic motion of flapping wings, no heat signature of jet thrusters.”
Relieved yet saddened, Beachcomber sat down on the sand beside Hound, staring out into the distance, feeling defocused with the nigh-infinite view of the tide and its rolling surf beyond the damp shore before him. “Almost got yanked back to
our reality,” he sighed. “Much as I love Earth, I feel guilty about our war with the ’Cons spilling here. Who knows how much damage could be recklessly inflicted on it the longer it goes? I can’t even think of the tragedies this world’s primeval realms could suffer.”
Hound’s turret gun resumed its rotational vigil. “It’s funny in a way, though. Not that the war is a good thing, but if the Decepticons hadn’t ambushed us when we left Cybertron, we might have never known about Earth at all.”
“Hm. Hate to admit to that logic, but you might be right. What one strange twist of cosmic fate beyond our understanding could - ”
“Beachcomber! Over here!”
Perceptor’s command snapped the geologist out of his introspective melancholy. He pulled himself up with an amicable tap on Hound’s hood. “Looks like it’s my turn to go into the field.”
“Have fun down there. And good luck.”
Beachcomber left Hound and the tidepools, and met Perceptor who was sitting on the beach as he observed the undersea images on his video console. “What’cha got, Perce?”
Perceptor showed Beachcomber the display of the islet’s underwater slope on the monitor. “Seaspray has charted the precise location of our objective. By his report, it’s enormous.”
Beachcomber watched the image on the screen. “And he said it’s buried under that rock, huh? Guess there’s no way to know for sure but get up close. The tide may come back in pretty soon, I hope that won’t slow down our work.”
“Seaspray will meet you mid-way in the water, then guide you to the target zone.”
“Right on it,” said Beachcomber with a smooth thumbs-up. Rather than transform to his vehicle mode, he walked out along the shore and waded into the water until it reached his chest. Away from the giant arch-like rocks, Seaspray rose to the surface, transformed to hovercraft mode, and coasted to rendez-vous with his comrade.
From his surveillance post on the beach, Hound watched the two Autobots dive under the sea; after a few more minutes with no Decepticons on the horizon, he felt this might be a good, safe time for a break. Returning to his robot shape, he met Perceptor at his own work area on the beach, his attention locked on the visuals on the monitor.
“How’s everything going? Looking good so far?”
“It is early to presume success at this stage. But so long as we remain uninterrupted by the Decepticons, my sentiments are hopeful.”
“So far, so good, then. Hope you don’t mind me taking a break; it’s all clear and I’ve been curious to know what’s down there. But I’ll get back to my security detail pretty soon.”
“That will be satisfactory.”
“You know, while we’ve been out here, I’ve been thinking about the Earth. Being such a different world from our home, from its geographic features to its inhabitants... so many possibilities we haven’t had the chance to explore yet, because of the war.”
“I am aware. I overheard your discussion with Beachcomber. No intentional eavesdropping, mind you, but it was difficult to ignore.”
“So I take it you heard us talk about what it’d be like to be human.”
“Yes. I mean no disrespect to our human allies who have been notably helpful to our cause. But in my objective analysis, the notion would be a severe evolutionary step backward for our kind.”
“But you must admit, it could be an interesting scientific breakthrough, and not completely without precedent. Once, we transferred Spike’s mind to a robot body for a short time. So with the right equipment, what’s to prevent transferring an Autobot’s mind to a human body?”
“I recall that incident well. And it reinforces my skepticism on the procedure’s safety in either direction, unless it is rigorously perfected. Furthermore, I have also extensively studied this world’s organic biology, and however fascinating it is in some respects, I must note that, besides its composition being dramatically fragile compared to Cybertron physiology, there are some aspects that I find - to express in less technical terminology - ‘messy.’”
* * * * *
{Second half in next post...}
