by Peter David
(“Autobots! They’re here! Alive!”)
(Megatron is staggered. He glances toward Sentinel. Has he seen, heard, what Megatron just heard?)
(“Remind me again,” Sentinel says, glowering, “what exactly your army is good for.”)
(That answered that question.)
(And Megatron sends out an electronic message to all Decepticons within range: “Decepticons! Defend the pillar!”)
(Gould just manages to clear the drawbridge before it starts rising. Within moments the Decepticons make sure the rest of the drawbridges are upright as well. The castle has raised the bridges and decided to rely on both the knights in the field and the moat to protect it.)
(The siege is on.)
VIRGINIA
It seemed to Mearing as if the Egg had become her second home. She then realized bleakly that if circumstances didn’t change and soon, it might well be her last home.
As she studied frustratingly limited satellite photos, she felt a hand patting her on the back. “I just want you to know,” Simmons told her, “whenever I imagined the end of the world, I always pictured being with you.”
She turned and looked at him. “You’re making it worse. You’re making me start to feel that the world can’t end soon enough.” Simmons wasn’t big on taking hints, but even he could handle this one, and he removed his hand from her back. She returned her attention to the photos. “We’ve got to be able to see what’s going on around that building from the ground.”
Perhaps eager to make up for being stupid enough to bring up his feelings at a time like this, Simmons immediately jumped to the task. “Get NSA to send server specs for any cameras in that area. Traffic lights, ATMs, anything. Then”—he indicated Dutch—“let the Great German Hope hack us in.”
Dutch flexed his knuckles, and the crack they made echoed in the Egg.
CHICAGO
i
The Autobot convoy, having changed into their car incarnations, barreled around the debris that littered the landscape and sped as quickly as they could toward the streets of the north side of Chicago.
Optimus was in the lead, of course, an unstoppable juggernaut, or at least Sam hoped that he was unstoppable. Sam was at the wheel of Bumblebee, Carly at his side. The Hellfire missile was secured in the back; they certainly didn’t need it rolling around randomly. The rest of the Autobots were behind them in a steady stream of cars, and Epps and the various mercenaries were hitching rides within them. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t help but smile; the Wreckers were all race cars.
Carly was studying Leadfoot, the closest behind them, in the side-view. “I just have to say, was it really the best idea for that one to have a large white target painted on him? Isn’t that kind of asking for trouble?”
He hadn’t thought of it that way. Now that she had said it, though, he couldn’t think of it any other way.
Wheeljack was bringing up the rear, and suddenly there was a violent shaking, and before anyone could react, a huge crevice split the earth, creating a chasm directly in front of Wheeljack.
He cut hard to the right, but momentum had him. Unable to regain control, he jumped the barriers and headed straight into the Chicago River. In midair he shifted back to his robot form, and then he plummeted into the water and disappeared beneath the surface.
ii
(Wheeljack feels more foolish than anything else as he sinks to the riverbed and lands, his feet kicking up a cloud of silt. He had reacted like a car instead of an Autobot disguised as a car. He had been caught off guard and has wound up looking like a right fool because of it.)
(Once he has his footing solid, he begins to move toward the shore. It should not take more than a few moments for him to—)
(Then the water begins to swirl around him.)
(He looks behind him, in front of him, and to either side.)
(Decepticons are converging upon him.)
(He unleashes fire in all directions, but in the water the blasts are slowed while the Decepticons move even more quickly, easily avoiding his attack.)
(Then they are upon him, bearing him down to the dirt. He fights back furiously, and at close range he blasts apart one of the Decepticons, but then two more are upon him to take its place.)
(His last thought before final darkness falls upon him is that he should have come up with a more efficient means for the others to carry weapons.)
iii
They drove to the shoreline, the Autobots still in their car forms, and waited for Wheeljack to emerge. When he did not do so immediately, Carly said, “Should it be taking this long?”
It was Optimus who answered. “No, it should not.” He started toward the water. “It should not be at—”
Suddenly he froze, and his voice was empty as he said, “He is not responding. I am sending him a message and he … is not there … he is—”
“There!” Ratchet suddenly called out, pointing in alarm.
“Bloody hell,” said Topspin.
Large pieces of what had once been Wheeljack floated to the surface, one by one at first and then several at a time. The river’s current started to carry them away, and Sam’s heart sank as he looked on.
“Why didn’t he call us? Why didn’t he summon help!” said Sideswipe.
“Because he was a warrior and he disliked the lay of the battlefield,” said Optimus. “He didn’t like the odds of our survival and felt that he might well be summoning all of us to our deaths. It is the only answer that makes sense.”
“Then we gotta make sure his death wasn’t for nothing,” said Epps. “We gotta take down these—”
Once more the ground beneath them began to shake. The humans looked around. The Autobots looked down.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that could be natural causes?” Sam said with not much conviction.
“We need to get the humans clear of here, immediately!” said Optimus, and he immediately began to change into his robot form.
It wasn’t fast enough.
The street trembled and then ripped open, practically right under the feet of Optimus Prime. He was sent hurtling into the air in midconversion. He landed safely on his feet, but his trailer, complete with the valuable weapons and tools within, was flipped high in the air and then crashed to the ground, upside down, at least a hundred meters away.
They’re separating us from weapons! Sam thought frantically. First Wheeljack! And now Optimus’s armory! They’re trying to make sure we have no resources.
Even as Sam realized the immediate strategy of the Decepticons, the earth vomited up a mechanical nightmare. It was a gigantic metal snake of a creature, towering over the Autobots, letting out a screech that would have been at home being issued from the throat of a Jurassic-era dinosaur.
“Drillers! Why did it have to be Drillers!” Leadfoot shouted.
And it was not alone.
The cockpit upon its back opened, and Shockwave emerged from it, not as huge as his mount but no less intimidating.
We are so screwed, Sam thought.
Optimus tried to make a move toward his weapons cache. But Shockwave had the high ground and used it to maximum advantage, unleashing a series of blasts that created a virtual wall of explosions between Prime and his arsenal.
“This way!” Optimus shouted, and herding the humans in front of him, he steered them to shelter within a partly crumbled train station. The other Autobots were returning covering fire at the Driller, driving it back, but it wasn’t about to relinquish its position and let Optimus anywhere near his weapons.
They crammed into the train terminal, knowing full well that this was a temporary solution at best. Shockwave was in no rush. Time was on his side; he didn’t have to destroy them. All he had to do was keep them occupied until the pillars had been activated. After that, it was game over.
“Things just got a lot worse,” said Optimus, an assessment that Sam was hard put to argue with. “We have no weapon that can match Shockwave’s. We’ve got to outflan
k and get behind him.”
“We’ll circle around to the bent glass building. You guys can draw his fire,” said Epps.
Wheelie rolled forward and said, “Can I just maybe put in a vote for doing it the other way around? I’m not big on the whole drawing fire thing.”
“Right,” said Carly, “because if you guys go out there, the one they’re really going to shoot at is you.”
Wheelie gripped her leg firmly. “You understand me. You are my new warrior goddess.” Then he started to thrust himself repeatedly against her shin.
She kicked him away and said to Sam, “If I die in the next few minutes, at least I won’t have to live with that memory for long.”
Sam considered that the most desperate attempt to find the bright side of all this he had ever heard. But he would take whatever he could get.
LAKE MICHIGAN
i
Five V-22 Ospreys streaked through the skies above Lake Michigan, hurtling toward the smoking remains of Chicago.
Lennox’s Osprey was bringing up the rear. Counting himself, there were forty soldiers in all, eight in each plane, each of them clad head to toe in specially modified wing suits. Aerodynamic cloth stretched from their wrists to their hips and between their legs. Zimmerman, seated next to Lennox, brought his arms around himself, enveloping himself in the stretched cloth. His voice low, he whispered, “I’m Batman.”
“You’re Rocky the flying freaking squirrel, is what you are,” said Perkins, another soldier.
Lennox permitted them to engage in the lighthearted jabs because he knew what was really going through their minds. Their enthusiasm and bravery were not at all in question, but they knew what they were about to head into. Keeping it light until the go moment prevented them from dwelling too much on what they had to deal with.
But the go moment was nearly upon them, and Lennox started issuing orders through his comm unit. His words sounded in the radio sets of all the soldiers and the pilots as well. “Use Willis Tower for cover. We get altitude, we jump. Aim your descents toward the river. Follow tight. Wacker Bridge.”
“Clarification, sir,” came the voice of one of the pilots. “Willis Tower?”
“Formerly the Sears Tower.”
“Copy that.”
First it was the Sears Tower; now it’s the Willis Tower. Everything changes, Lennox thought. Then he remembered the nature of the beings they were going to be fighting and realized just how apt that thought was.
Lennox looked out the front of the Osprey, and even though they were at the back of the diamond formation, he was able to see the ruins of Chicago spread out before them. There was still a thick black cloud hanging overhead, and …
“What the hell is that?” he said to the pilot. “At two o’clock?”
“Can’t make it out, sir,” said the pilot. “Big sucker, though.”
Their flight path wasn’t going to bring them near it, but whatever it was, it was drifting closer and closer to Chicago. One thing that Lennox knew for sure: It wasn’t going to be anything good for—
“Bogeys incoming!” the pilot suddenly shouted.
Hurtling toward them were several Decepticon airships, moving with incredible speed. Certainly far faster than anything the Osprey could achieve. They darted forward, and suddenly the air was alive with the alien ships’ firepower.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Lennox called out, but the pilot was already on it. The Osprey darted hard right, just barely avoiding a diving attack by one of the Decepticons. The Osprey to their right wasn’t quite so lucky. An incoming wave of fire from the Decepticons’ attack ship ripped away its port wing. Undoubtedly the pilot within tried to compensate, but he failed utterly, and like a crippled bird the Osprey veered off course, colliding with one of its fellows. The two planes erupted upon impact, sending a fireball that cooked the air around Lennox’s ship and resulted in a ball of twisted wreckage plummeting down into the waters of Lake Michigan. It hit, sending up a huge splash of water, and then vanished from sight.
One of the Decepticons was darting downward to avoid a collision with another of the Ospreys and cut directly into the path of Lennox’s aircraft. Their onboard weapon, an M240 machine gun, cut loose at it, shredding the Decepticon, sending it spiraling out of the way and carving a path. The other two Ospreys leaped toward the gap and hurtled forward, reaching Chicago with Lennox’s own ship close behind.
“Where are the remaining Decepticon ships?” Lennox called out.
“Not picking them up, sir! Maybe they disengaged!”
Maybe. But he wasn’t buying it for a second. The Decepticons were relentless. There was no choice, though, other than to stick with as much of the plan as they could.
At least Chicago, or what remained of it, was providing them with some cover. The Ospreys hurtled with almost reckless speed through the concrete canyons, approaching the Sears Tower, which was, miraculously, still standing.
There was no more joking among the soldiers in Lennox’s ship. They were all grim-faced, determined, knowing not only what was at stake but that sixteen of their fellows had just met a horrible death without having the slightest opportunity to face the enemy in battle. They were aware that it could just as easily have been them.
And it could still be.
The Ospreys kept low, trying to stay below any tracking that the Decepticons might be doing of any incoming hostiles. Lennox watched on the array of monitor screens, looking for some sign of life on the battered streets below. He wasn’t seeing anything. “God,” he breathed.
“Not even sure God’s listening right now,” said Zimmerman. It was a rather depressing attitude to have, but Lennox couldn’t entirely blame him.
They were rapidly approaching the Sears Tower. The first two Ospreys had already reached them and rotated their wings, enabling them to begin the vertical ascent up the side of the building. On reaching the top, the ships would hover within visual distance of each other and Lennox would give the order to jump.
With any luck, this mission was still going to be salvageable.
ii
(The lead Osprey reaches the top of the tower. The pilot rotates the craft ninety degrees in order to allow the men a clear jump path. And as the plane turns, he comes face to face with Starscream, standing on the roof.)
(Starscream is amused. He lets the look of shock register on the pilot’s face. He wants the human to realize that he is dead and that there is nothing he can do to prevent it. He can almost taste the deliciousness of the moment. Then he reaches out and easily breaks the propeller off the Osprey. Whirling out of control, the vehicle crashes into the side of the building, raining fire, steel, and glass on the street below.)
(The second Osprey barely manages to avoid the debris that is filling the air around it. It is a formidable bit of flying. Starscream acknowledges the talent of the human pilot by personally blowing the vessel out of the air with his arm cannon. What better way to reward such skill than by giving it the honor of being disposed of by the mighty Starscream?)
(He then turns his attention to the third vessel and sees with mild annoyance that it is already darting away, heading as quickly as it can back out toward the body of water called Lake Michigan. He scowls at the cowardice of the pilot. In contrast to the other vessel, this one is not even worth the effort of firing his arm cannon at it. Not worth it, and not worthy.)
(Then he notices something, and there is a deep growl of annoyance within him. There are eight flying humans, hurtling away with amazing speed. They are wearing some manner of flight suit with black wings stretching along the sides. Quickly he tracks and fires at them, but he is unaccustomed to such puny targets. As a result, the blast explodes near them, and the subsequent shock wave sends two of them tumbling. But instantly they recover and seconds later have sped around the corner of the building and out of sight.)
(“Thunderation!” Starscream snarls, and immediately sends out an electronic command to the nearest attack ships. Seconds later they are in pursuit
of the annoying humans.)
(Starscream remains at his station, scanning the sky to look for any further foolish intrusions on the part of the humans. He is confident that the attack ships will dispose of the remaining intruders. How difficult could it be? They are, after all, only humans.)
(The attack ships speed after the fleeing humans, trying to pick them off but running into the same problem that plagued Starscream: They are too damned small. It is difficult to lock on to them, plus they display an almost supernatural ability to get out of the way of any shots fired.)
(The humans have no way of knowing that in a strange way they are replaying a sequence of events that occurred millennia ago. Back then it was Sentinel keeping out of the way of assailants. It had all been a ruse, of course, designed for the benefit of any onlooking Autobots. They had to believe that Sentinel was truly dead, his supposed mission an utter failure. It was part of the grand scheme to both demoralize the Autobots and lay the groundwork for the eventual triumph of the Decepticons on whatever world the Ark eventually landed.)
(On that day long gone, Sentinel had performed a series of daredevil maneuvers and the Decepticons had harried him and several were actually sloppy enough to die.)
(History repeats itself. That is a truism as real for the Decepticons as it is for anyone else.)
(The men dart and weave, moving through spaces between fallen or angled buildings that become smaller and smaller, making it an increasingly greater challenge for the attack ships to keep up with them. They fly around a sharp corner, and one of the attack ships banks hard to follow and crashes into a dangling overpass, exploding upon impact. A second ship tries to avoid the explosion and fails, erupting in flame when it comes into contact with the detonated vessel. The third attack ship moves quickly past the remains of the other two vessels and angles into an increasingly narrowing space between two buildings that are leaning, tops nestled against each other like a pair of lovers. The humans hurtle through the canyon, which becomes smaller and smaller. The attack ship has to turn sideways in order to fit, and then one of the flying men fires something, some manner of weapon. It strikes a building just ahead of them, and as the men pass under it, a huge chunk of the angled building’s upper section is blasted loose and tumbles down.)