Retribution

by David J. Williams

  That was when he noticed something.

  The Curator’s wand. Mere feet from him. The Quintesson leader must have dropped it when Tyrannicon had seized him. Gathering what strength remained to him, Optimus reached out and grabbed it. He could feel the whole room shaking now as though it were in the throes of an earthquake. Chunks of rock were tumbling from the ceiling. The Hydratron was almost upon them. Optimus had no idea how the wand worked, but he knew he couldn’t simply turn off the bridge. That wouldn’t be enough. He had to destroy it, had to stop that thing from reaching Cybertron at any cost.

  Including his own life.

  The Energon stockpiles that were fueling the bridge … that was the key. Optimus set all the controls for maximum and watched as the wand began flashing bright red and the bridge started to pulsate. Out in the water, Megatron hauled Tyrannicon to his feet, grabbing him with one claw while a buzz saw protruded from his other. The saw roared to life as Megatron shoved it toward Tyrannicon’s face. It was mere feet from those cold fish eyes. Now it was inches …

  But at the last moment, Tyrannicon kicked out with one clawed boot, knocking Megatron backward toward the cave wall, just far enough to swing the trident around and fire the triple blades off like a missile. They struck Megatron right in the chest, pinning him against the cave wall.

  “You were saying something about your expertise in the pits?” Tyrannicon asked as he put his giant hand around Megatron’s throat.

  “It isn’t possible,” Megatron murmured. He was struggling desperately, but the energy-powered trident blades had him stuck fast. “I’m supposed to be the chosen one.”

  “Then I guess I shouldn’t be able to do this,” Tyrannicon said. He punched straight through Megatron’s chest plate and seized the Quintesson-made matrix. Blue lightning erupted from Megatron’s body and arced into Tyrannicon as Megatron convulsed, reverting to his normal form. The vast room was shaking as though it was about to collapse. Tyrannicon shuddered as though he was being torn apart. But then he held the blazing object in the air above him—

  “The power is mine!” he screamed.

  —and plunged it into his own chest. Blue-green energy enveloped him as he looked at his trapped opponent.

  “Foolish Cybertronian. What misbegotten notion made you think this power belonged to you? This was mine by birthright.” As he spoke, Tyrannicon grew taller, the fins on his arms and legs larger. His squid helm turned black, and his scales started glowing a translucent blue. The war trident sprouted new blades that glowed with fresh energy. He was too caught up in the rush of his transformation to notice the rocks falling all around him.

  “Welcome to the reign of Tyrannicon the First,” he said. “Any final words, gladiator?”

  “I’ve got two,” Megatron snarled. “Scrap you.”

  Tyrannicon raised his trident to deliver the killing blow, and the ceiling blasted open to reveal the hideous countenance of the Hydratron. Dozens of tentacles swarmed down, enveloping the tallest target in the room, pulling Tyrannicon up toward all too many maws; he bellowed furiously, swinging his war trident desperately, but for every tentacle he sliced, two more grabbed him as the monstrosity inexorably drew him up and into one of its mammoth gullets. The concentrated acid must have been potent indeed; there was a blue flash so bright that it was dimly visible through the semitranslucent flesh. Lightning flickered through the creature’s body and erupted from the tips of myriad tentacles, bouncing around the cave, shearing off slices of the cave walls. For a moment, Optimus hoped that the blast had killed the creature, but it didn’t seem to be affected in the slightest; instead, it kept trying to force its way down into the chamber. With sickening clarity, Optimus realized that he and Megatron were both helpless, about to be eaten alive.

  “Optimus,” a voice whispered.

  Optimus looked up to see the Leviacon peeking above the surface, mere feet from his face.

  “I thought you were dead,” he said.

  “I’ve had better days,” the Leviacon whispered. “Now get on.” Optimus crawled desperately toward the whale; it seemed like an eternity while Megatron roared and struggled against the far wall, and the glowing on the bridge intensified and the Hydratron forced its way ever farther into the chamber. Its terrible bulk seemed to writhe with excitement as it spotted the bridge, an entire portion of its body extending out toward the portal like a gigantic pseudopod. Optimus reached the Leviacon at last and rolled onto its burned back. The Leviacon began swimming desperately for the exit; half the chamber was now filled with the Hydratron’s mass. Tentacles draped down toward Megatron. He and Optimus locked eyes.

  Optimus knew he couldn’t let him die like this.

  “We need to take a detour,” he told the Leviacon.

  “We don’t have time!”

  “We’ll make it,” Optimus said as he guided the Leviacon to the side wall where Megatron was. The colossal gelatinous sack strained against the rocks above them. The pseudopod had almost touched the bridge’s blazing energies. The entire portal was going critical. Optimus reached up and tried to pull the trident blades from the wall, but he was too weak.

  “Nice try, librarian,” Megatron muttered. “Save yourself while you still can.”

  “I can’t leave you.”

  “Sure you can.”

  Optimus stared at him. The Leviacon slapped the trident from the wall with his wounded tail; Megatron fell forward onto the back of the whale. The Leviacon dived and swam desperately for all their lives. The last Optimus saw of the bridge chamber was through dark shimmering water, a circular glow slowly being eclipsed by a titanic bulk. Tentacles unfurled through the water toward them, but the Leviacon plunged farther, ever deeper, through a maze of passageways that Optimus was certain wasn’t the way they’d come in.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Deep as we can go,” said the Leviacon. “We’ve got a minute at most.”

  It turned out they had a lot less.

  THE ARK AND THE NEMESIS HAD JUST REACHED ORBIT when they picked up the explosion on their scanners. It was a force ten blast, wiping Aquatron’s only continent clean off the map, sending up a mushroom cloud that reached to the very edge of space.

  The Autobots, stubborn beings that they were, detached the Ark and proceeded to reenter the atmosphere, running low-level search and rescue passes for their missing leader, hoping against hope. Nor were they alone in their quest. Starscream had announced that he would remain in orbit supervising repairs on the Nemesis, but most of his Seekers flew alongside the Ark, scanning the ocean. The sight of bots such as Skywarp and Dirge cruising in formation next to the Ark made for an unusual sight from the Ark’s bridge, which was packed to capacity with many of the day’s combatants. Jazz and Prowl stood right behind Sideswipe’s command chair, scouring the readouts for any sign of Optimus. Sunstreaker and Bulkhead paced up and down while Ratchet and Perceptor ran every possible scan and then some. Ironhide sat at the back of the room with his massive arms crossed, insisting that if Optimus was gone, they would all have felt his passing, that it couldn’t be any other way with a Prime, that it just couldn’t … But he was in denial, and they all knew it. Kup consoled him with the last cy-gar he had stashed in his quarters before they’d left Cybertron. For once Rodimus and Bumblebee were silent; they just looked on as Hubcap went over his maps again and again, trying not to look at the pillar of smoke rising from the horizon. Was there something he had missed? Anything …?

  But all at once an elated scream from Sideswipe pierced the air.

  “There! Down there!”

  He magnified the image and put it on the main screen. It was a giant battle-scarred whale shark, and riding on its back like a knight of old Cybertron was Optimus Prime. The bridge erupted in shouts of elation and joy, a jubilation that barely wavered when they saw Megatron holding on to the whale’s tail. The Seekers whooped and streaked down toward their leader, the Ark moving down with them. With a feather touch, Sideswipe set the craft to hover
mere meters from the Leviacon. A ramp lowered toward the huge whale. Optimus watched it descend toward him and felt strength return to his limbs. Since the destruction of the bridge and all the Curator’s foul works, the Matrix had surged back to life within him, burning with rejuvenated insight. Optimus had never felt better. Especially now that he knew his soldiers were alive, too. He patted his new friend on the back.

  “Thank you for all your help, Leviacon.”

  “Thank you, Optimus Prime. If it had not been for your efforts, Aquatron would still be a slave world.”

  “And now it’s practically been depopulated,” said a weary Megatron as Ramjet and Slipstream moved in to assist him. But he shook them off, clearly meaning to travel under his own power in spite of the pain he was in.

  “That is not true,” the Leviacon said. “Most of my people dwell near the seabed. We rarely venture to the surface. It was only under Quintesson compulsion that we did so.”

  “Well, welcome to freedom and thanks for the lift,” Megatron said sarcastically. He turned to Optimus. “I’ll be seeing you again shortly, librarian.” And with that, he changed into his spacecraft mode and roared off into the sky, his Seekers following him, leaving fiery trails behind them. The Ark’s ramp reached Optimus. Naturally, Jazz was right there at the forefront with a hearty handshake for his old friend.

  “Glad to see you, boss. You really had us worried there for a second.”

  “It’s good to see you all,” Optimus said with heartfelt relief. He looked out across their jubilant faces, felt sweet relief flood through him. He barely heard Ironhide’s question and had to ask him to repeat it.

  “So you and Megatron were working together? Is that how you got out? You and him, you were a team?”

  Optimus stepped onto the ramp. “We had a common foe,” he said.

  “And now?” Jazz asked.

  “Now it’s up to Megatron,” Optimus replied as he led his men back up the ramp. “Perhaps one day he will realize how much stronger we are united.”

  “That’ll be the day,” said Ironhide.

  “It may yet be,” Optimus said. “But right now we’ve got a mission to complete. Autobots, roll out!”

  The Ark fired its engines and soared back toward the black of space.

  Epilogue: Alpha Trion

  AND SO IT COMES FULL CIRCLE.

  Yet so much remains untold. The AllSpark remains un-found. The conflict that tears our people asunder continues. And Cybertron remains a blighted land. Even as I write this, smoke still rises from the shattered ruins of Iacon. I am in a place of safety, for now at least. Ultra Magnus will not leave my side, will not risk my becoming a tool in the hands of those who would play dice with the fortunes of our people. For he knows that Shockwave is reasserting control across our planet, that he is rebuilding his tower, that soon the days of guerrilla fighting will begin once more, only burdened with new complications. Devastator was successfully recovered from Iacon’s wreckage, and Wheeljack is busy making repairs to Omega Supreme. There are reports that some of the invaders remain, scattered here and there, fighting all the harder now that chaos has gripped their minds. I do not know whether to believe this.

  But this much I do know: The enemy that set this invasion in motion is still out there. My time within the mind of Vector Sigma opened up broader vistas within me. I saw our galaxy spread before me, saw the duel between Optimus Prime and Megatron the gladiator swept aside for the briefest of moments as they battled a foe that history itself had forgotten. No longer; the Quintessons will be a factor in everybody’s calculations now. As assuredly we are a factor in theirs—somewhere out there, on a faraway planet drifting around an alien sun, the masters of that race are setting in motion plans to harvest the seeds they sowed so many eons ago. Theirs is a people who combine the cunning of the lowest beasts with the remorselessness of a machine that thinks a million moves ahead. I cannot tell you how much I fear them.

  Yes, fear. Primes can know that, too. Or at least I can. I cannot speak for my brethren of the Thirteen lost among the stars … except to wish that those who gave way to malice will never return and those who still seek the good will also seek the home that needs them so desperately. Yet I know better than to expect them. For now, legend will remain just that. Perhaps it is better that way. The heroes of yesteryear will not save us; only those of today can. Optimus Prime has become every inch the leader I hoped he would. He has learned that he is more than just the sum of the Matrix, and that is a lesson he will surely need in the days ahead. For just before I was cut loose from Vector Sigma, I glimpsed something.

  A blue-green world.

  Out on the fringes of the Orion Arm. I have seen it before. I sent the contents of the vault there, after all. Wreathed in atmosphere, orbiting a yellow dwarf star, the third of eight major planets and countless minor ones; I cannot say if Optimus goes there next, but go there one day soon he surely will. For this planet is somehow bound up in his quest in some way I had not at first anticipated. Nor do I know precisely what this planet means—cannot tell what evil or good it might portend. Only the pages of the Covenant of Primus to which I have yet to turn can do that.

  So turn to them now I shall.

  For Bob Budiansky

  Acknowledgments

  Mark would like to thank: my family, Dr. Luther S. Williams and Constance M. Williams, Dr. Monique M. Williams, and Franklin Stephenson, for all their support. Also much gratitude to Andrew Crown, Mitch Engle, Tony Halasohoris, Pak Mhojadee, Ed Wong, and Gabrielle Kern for always believing.

  Dave would like to thank: Sabrina Lloyd, Brian De Groodt, Erin Sheley, Christopher Goddard, Rob Cunningham, Elizabeth Dell, Paul Ruskay, Adam Green, Marc Haimes, Jerry Ellis, Rich Dent, Tom Doyle, James Wang, Frank Parisi, David Pomerico, Howard Morhaim, and most of all the Beasts.

  ALSO BY DAVID J. WILLIAMS

  The Mirrored Heavens

  The Burning Skies

  The Machinery of Light

  The Pillars of Hercules (as David Constantine)