Transformers Dark of the Moon

by Peter David

  (“Nice landing,” Soundwave says. He then addresses the other Decepticons. “Take him to the other side. Use the tunnel that the Driller carved for us so that we could pass under the lake. Take him with the others to Megatron and Sentinel.”)

  (“As what? Prisoners?” says the human. “You better teach them some respect. Especially that cuddly little yellow one who blew up my apartment.”)

  (Ah. Now Bumblebee knows. It is that Dylan Gould. He had seen him only briefly, when Gould was busy cowering in a corner.)

  (“No prisoners,” Soundwave assures Gould. “Only trophies.”)

  VIRGINIA

  Simmons surveyed the area with the variety of cameras at his disposal. “Whatever’s set to happen, with those pulses getting faster, it’s gonna happen soon. How long,” he asked Mearing, “before the SEAL team arrives?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, Agent Simmons,” she said brusquely. “They were coming in through Lake Michigan and should have made landfall fifteen minutes ago. We’re assuming there’s going to be the same communications jam across the board that we’ve been having, but Colonel Lennox is equipped with a GPS homing beacon, and the plan is that they’ll be able to lock on to him with that and rendezvous.”

  “None of which is gonna mean a damned thing if they can’t get across the lake.” He looked in annoyance at Dutch, who was silently hammering away at his computer. “C’mon, you overgrown side of kraut. Gimme some good news.”

  “I believe … I can give you exactly that.” He punched the “return” key with a flourish.

  Watching through the traffic cameras, Simmons grinned in triumph as the drawbridges began to lower.

  When Mearing didn’t comment, Simmons couldn’t let it pass. “ ‘Pleasure working with you again, Seymour,’ I believe is what you’re supposed to say.”

  She actually smiled at him.

  Then she said, “Good job, Dutch.”

  CHICAGO

  i

  Sam felt like he was dying, standing on the other side of the river, helpless to intervene.

  On the roof of the Hotchkiss Gould Building, the building on which it seemed the entirety of his life had come to be focused, a new element of torture had been added to his witnessing the impending end of the world. The anchor pillar was still firmly in place, generating energy that was linking it to all the others around the world. Megatron and Sentinel were standing there like the smug prigs that they were. And above them, looming over all of it, was what was now clearly some sort of battle cruiser. Attack ships were suspended under it, held in place in preparation for use as needed.

  But worst of all was the sight of the Wreckers, Sideswipe, Ratchet, and Bumblebee—his car, his friend—surrounded by Decepticon warriors. They were struggling in the grasp of their captors but were outnumbered, to say nothing of the fact that the Decepticon warriors towered over them. Watching over the whole proceedings was Soundwave, and he seemed to be taking particular delight in tormenting Bumblebee. He was holding some sort of long rod and was jamming it into various of Bumblebee’s joints. Every time he did so, Bumblebee would shake and shudder, all in frightful silence.

  One of the Wreckers, Leadfoot, suddenly managed to pull free, but Soundwave promptly unleashed a blast from his sonic cannon. Leadfoot screamed as his right leg was blown clean off, and he went down.

  Carly was by Sam’s side, and she could sense him living and dying with everything his friends were feeling. “They’re going to be okay. You’ll see. I mean, since the army’s gotten here …”

  She gestured toward the reinforcements who had arrived several minutes earlier.

  “Navy,” he said. “They’re navy SEALs.”

  “Whatever. They’re here, and they’re going to help.”

  From what Sam had overheard, they had crossed Lake Michigan in a boat that had gotten annihilated by Decepticon drones. But the SEALs had, miraculously, survived, although they’d managed to salvage only some of the arsenal they’d brought with them. At the moment they were conferring with Lennox, who was going over the weapons they had brought with them and planning strategy. “Okay, lose those. Keep those. Use mic-mics and frags, go full auto, vibrations jam their circuits. Snipers, hit their eyes.” He didn’t bother to point out what the target was. It was hard to miss.

  Unable to stand watching Bumblebee’s suffering anymore and feeling the need to take his anger out on someone, no matter how undeserving, Sam broke away from Carly and stormed toward Lennox, who looked startled. “Why the hell are they over there and we’re stuck over here?”

  “Maybe one of them turned into a submarine, Sam,” Lennox said. “I don’t know for sure.”

  “Then let’s find out for sure so we can do it, too!” he said in frustration. “I mean, these guys are navy SEALs, and no one thought to bring a few rafts to get across the water?”

  One of the SEALs looked at Sam with great irritation. “Colonel Lennox, what purpose is served by having this civilian here?”

  Lennox gestured for the irritated navy man to step back, and then he said placatingly, “They were destroyed, Sam, but don’t worry, I’m working on a plan.”

  “A plan! Great!” Sam said, not placated in the least. “Why not just wave your arms”—he demonstrated—“and shout, ‘Close, Sesame!’ ”

  At the exact moment he did that, seven hundred miles away, Dutch hit the “return” key on his computer keyboard.

  The bridges promptly started lowering.

  Sam stood there with his hands still in the air, looking bewildered. So did the navy SEALs. Even Carly seemed impressed.

  Only Lennox took it in stride. “That, Lieutenant, is the purpose in keeping the civilian around. He makes things fall our way. People!” he said, raising his voice, “we’re moving out! Two by two!”

  Seconds later the navy SEALs, the NEST soldiers, and Epps’s crew of mercenaries were hustling over the bridge, determined to make it across before the damned thing opened once more. Following behind them were Sam and Carly. Neither of them had the faintest idea how they could be of any help, but both were determined to manage it somehow.

  ii

  (On the bridge of the battle cruiser, towering Decepticons watch the lights in the skies, enraptured, sharing in the impending triumph of their race and knowing that nothing—absolutely nothing—can stop it.)

  (Meanwhile, two former Decepticons, so small that no one notices them, are apparently unaware that nothing can stop the impending triumph and are going about the business of trying to see just who is correct.)

  (Wheelie reads a control array very carefully. “Do not use in flight,” he says aloud.)

  (“Better not use those. We’re in flight.”)

  (Wheelie rolls his eyes counterclockwise. For someone with the name “Brains,” his associate can be somewhat dense at times. “Exactly, idiot,” he says, and reaches for the controls.)

  (On the rooftop far below, even as Wheelie deliberately violates the explicit instructions on the array, Soundwave is saying to Bumblebee, “I’ve brought something along. I thought you would want to see it.” He gestures toward one of the Decepticons, who hurriedly brings forward an object immediately recognizable: the remains of Mirage. They dump his body to one side. Soundwave takes the head and then starts waving it around like a puppet. “Look at me. My name is Mirage. I am a cowardly Autobot who would much rather hide than fight, and my death was a small, pathetic, meaningless thing, which matches the way I lived.”)

  (Bumblebee, noiseless, tears free from the Decepticons holding him. Except he doesn’t really; they release him for the entertainment value. Even though his arms are pinioned behind him, even though he saw what happened to Leadfoot, even though he knows that he cannot possibly succeed, still he charges.)

  (It plays out exactly as one might expect.)

  (Soundwave swings a roundhouse kick that takes Bumblebee in the side. Bee goes down, falling among the wreckage that was his friend.)

  (“I’m saving you for last, Autobot,” S
oundwave tells him. “You’ve earned special treatment.” He pauses to look at the vast wall of attack ships nestled beneath the battle cruisers. With firepower such as this, any remaining resistance from the Autobots, from humanity—from anyone or anything—would be brief. “Better have our fun while it lasts.”)

  (He steps forward and kicks Bumblebee viciously several more times, and still Bumblebee does not cry out. Then Soundwave looks toward Megatron to see if his lord is entertained by his actions.)

  (Megatron gives him a pitying glance and then looks away.)

  (Suddenly the enjoyment of his actions ends for Soundwave.)

  (“I thought I would have some fun with you,” he says, “but now that it comes to it, I feel bored. Time to die.”)

  (And then he hears a whistling through the air, as if something not unlike a bomb is heading his way.)

  (He looks up.)

  (Battle cruisers are falling from on high, released from their supports by two small former Decepticons who are busy pushing controls on the bridge that they shouldn’t be touching. With no one aboard controlling the ships, they are plummeting like rocks.)

  (Megatron and Sentinel immediately take up protective positions around the anchor and start opening fire, picking off any cruisers that look as if their trajectory might bring them down upon the anchor pillar. Their heavy-duty weaponry is more than up to the task.)

  (But there is chaos all around, including Decepticons on the ground who are scrambling to get clear of the ships that are raining down upon them like a meteor storm. The attention of the Decepticons on the roof is distracted, and the Autobots seize the opportunity to strike back at their captors. They tear free from the Decepticons and then, moving as one, reverse themselves and slam directly into them. Autobots and Decepticons go tumbling off the roof, spiraling toward street level.)

  (The Decepticons bear the brunt of the impact, and the violence of the landing jars loose the bonds that are imprisoning the Autobots’ arms and suppressing their weapons systems. They tear loose froom their restraints and come straight at the Decepticons who had only moments earlier been lording it over them.)

  (Bumblebee brings his arms around as Soundwave aims his sonic cannon. It is an old-fashioned cowboy showdown, and Bumblebee wins the draw as he fires into Soundwave’s torso, cutting him in half. Soundwave’s top half, lying on its back like a flipped-over turtle, continues to struggle, determined to fight back. Bumblebee places his cannon to Soundwave’s head.)

  (“Time … to … die,” Bumblebee manages to say, and fires at point-blank range.)

  (There is no less chaos on the bridge of the battle cruiser. The Decepticons onboard are having a maddening time with Wheelie. They chase him around, trying to grab him, trying to shoot him, trying to do something, anything, to stop him. He moves so quickly that they appear to be standing still. They do not realize that there is a second small former Decepticon there, and he has taken over both helm and navigation. By the time they do, it is too late. The battle cruiser is spiraling down, down, and moments later crashes into Lake Michigan.)

  (All the large Decepticons are crushed upon impact.)

  (Two small former Decepticons swim away.)

  (Throughout all of this and more to follow, Sentinel remains calm. He is waiting for the light beams to peak, to come together, and he knows exactly what he will say. He will say: “It’s our world now. Commence transport.” And it will be glorious.)

  iii

  The light beams that will form the space bridge are about to converge upon each other. They will wrap themselves around the earth in its entirety, and then Cybertron will be brought here, and the abominable fantasy of the Decepticons will be made reality.

  I cannot allow this to happen.

  I have been struggling to free myself from this mass of crossbars and metal for what seems an interminable amount of time. And then, as pilotless attack ships plummet from the sky for no reason that I can discern, several of them strike the building in which I am inextricably entwined, jarring loose the rebar that has been restraining me. It is not by much, but it is all I require. I tear loose from them and drop to the ground, darting to the right to avoid an attack ship that smashes down to the street.

  Within moments, the energy beams will come together. At that point, the transportation will commence.

  I draw near and see soldiers, human soldiers, displaying that determination of spirit that so impresses me about these small beings. They are fighting Decepticons.

  No. Not just any Decepticon. They are assaulting Shockwave. One soldier has draped a parachute over his head to block his view while others are firing upon him, trying to slow him, hurt him, kill him.

  For a moment I am back on Cybertron, thinking that he has destroyed my mentor, unaware of the vast charade that must have been staged for our benefit.

  Then I am back in Chicago, back in the world that is my home now, and just as Shockwave pulls aside the obscuring cloth, just as he is about to annihilate these humans who have dared to hamper him, I am upon him and punch him so hard that I break off his jaw. He staggers, tries to speak, obviously fails. Shockwave lunges at me, trying to bring his laser cannon to bear upon me. I sidestep him and bring around my Energon sword, driving it into him up to the hilt. He glares at me, shuddering. His eye offends me. I pluck it out, throw it down, and crush it beneath my foot.

  He sags against me, but still he tries to twist his laser cannon around to aim it at me. I grab it and aim it upward, toward the anchor pillar, just as I hear Sentinel declare that the transportation should begin. I look up. The light beams have come together, the connection finalized.

  I fire Shockwave’s laser cannon for him.

  It strikes the anchor pillar on the roof above just as Megatron is reaching forward to trigger it and send the final pulse of energy through. The blast knocks the pillar off the roof. Sentinel grabs for it, but it is too late as it tumbles away from his grasp and to the streets below. He looks down to see the source and spots me just as I yank out my Energon sword, reverse the direction, and bisect Shockwave vertically. The two halves of him fall to either side, and I turn and point at Sentinel.

  “Face me!” I shout, and my voice thunders up and down the streets. “Face me, traitor! Face me and pay the ultimate penalty for your betrayal!”

  iv

  (“How dare he!” says Megatron. “Let us destroy him together, Sentinel! Together we can—”)

  (“I do not need you to annihilate Optimus Prime. I will dispose of him myself.”)

  (“No! I will not sit by again! Not this time!” Megatron becomes even more insistent. “This is Optimus Prime, and I must be at your side—”)

  (“You useless piece of scrap! You weren’t even able to prevent him from shooting the pillar! You will never stand by my side. Never. And this,” he says as he slams Megatron in the face, sending him stumbling backward, “is for your presumptuousness, you nothing! Be grateful I do not melt you into a puddle!”)

  (Unable to catch himself in time, Megatron hits the edge of the roof and falls.)

  (Sentinel gives him no more thought as he leaps to the ground to confront his wayward student.)

  v

  “My God!” Carly said. She and Sam were hiding behind a pile of rubble, and there was so much noise and so many explosions, and from the other side of the building, they were sure that they had just heard Optimus shouting some sort of challenge to Sentinel. But this particular exclamation from her was prompted by what she had spotted lying amid one of the many piles of rubble all around them. “Sam! That’s it! The control pillar, the anchor thing!”

  “Are you sure? It’s not just one of a hundred others?”

  “I was ten feet away from it! That’s definitely it!”

  He saw that she was right, and not only that, it was still generating the energy that was connecting all the others. It was down but not out.

  He nodded and said, “Stay here. I have to do this.” He kissed her quickly and dashed out into the open, runni
ng for the pillar.

  She stood, about to follow him, because she saw no point in remaining where she was. What good was that going to do for anyone?

  But once on her feet, she spotted something off to the side: a huge and yet familiar shadow in an alleyway.

  “It can’t be,” she murmured.

  She left Sam to deal with the pillar, a plan already forming in her head to address what she thought she might encounter less than a hundred feet away.

  vi

  He lands in front of me in a crouch and then slowly stands, uncoiling to his full height. “Decepticons!” he calls out, and I have no doubt that he is broadcasting his command in addition to giving it voice. “Trigger the pillar!”

  We circle each other warily. “You were the one who taught me that freedom is everyone’s right,” I say.

  “And survival is the right of the fittest.”

  He telegraphs his move before he makes it, producing his devastating weapon of acid rust. The instinct of self-protection would prompt most to back off, to flinch, to hesitate for just long enough that he would unleash a blast of the same devastating formula that destroyed Ironhide and the Twins.

  But he has trained me too well, Sentinel has. Rather than retreat, I immediately move forward, stepping inside the sweep of his arm before he can take proper aim. With the flat of my sword I slap the blaster from his grasp, sending it bounding away.

  When we met in battle on the National Mall, I was still in denial. I refused to believe that the Autobot I revered above all others could be in his right mind. There is no denial within me anymore. I look upon him as if for the first time and see only an enemy.

  For a moment we are pushing against each other, weight against weight, strength against strength. With incredulity in his voice, he says, “When only one world can survive, you would choose their race over ours?”