Chapter 2: Broadening Horizons

"tgGt"

"Put me in my place,
Persuade me…"
"Wake Up" - High Flight Society

Grill
The neighborhood a few blocks away did not take long for me to find; smoke rose in thick black billows from demolished houses, leading me right to the source of the noise.
In the middle of the street stood a thinly built transformer; his armor gleaming a beautifully bright blue in the sun. I could just catch the last half of a sentence as I parked a good distance away (enough so that I did not attract his attention) "…-as a work of art!" he exclaimed, gleeful though the wreckage was only a few meters to his right. He turned his attention from the other end of the street (where a green SUV drove away, similar to another that was parked across from the wreckage) to the burning remains of a home. It lay center to the total number of houses which were, at least to some degree, destroyed. As the mech stared into the flames, his voice took a decidedly devious turn, "I really couldn't've thanked him enough. I'll be sure to put that knowledge to good use."
I was trying to observe rather than become part of the situation, so, unlike the blue transformer, I noticed curious humans slowly coming out of their homes. After four or five came out, however, a number of them began screaming, some running, and many staring inquisitively. The mech, finally, after hearing the screams, made some response to them. He turned his back to the flames, arms akimbo, and head held high. As he scanned the number of humans which were in his view, a wicked grin spread across his face. He seemed pleased at the attention.
That couldn't last long, however, as one human came out with a gun and fired at the imposing blue giant. The bullet ricocheted off a plate of his armor, and he growled, "I'm sorry, did you want to play?" He took the few steps over and grabbed the stunned man who had shot at him. "That toy is hardly adequate." The man dropped his gun, and stared wide-eyed into the face of the transformer, whose lower arm and hand transformed into a pistol of sorts.
How far was he willing to go? Somewhere I had to draw the line. "Cease!" I yelled, transforming. I ran over to his position, causing him to hold the man a bit further from himself as he looked up to me (this mech was about Camshaft's height).
"Ah-" he said, at first surprised, probably at my presence, then, "greetings," which was distinctly annoyed, most likely from my interruption.
"What are you doing?" I voiced my concern, gesturing to the human.
"What do you care?" he growled at me angrily.
"I care that, though the man desired to harm you, no damage was done, and you appear prepared to extinguish his life for that."
"No damage was done?" he asked scathingly. Then he suddenly stopped what he was doing, and looked me up and down quickly. I remained still, and awaited his scrutiny. "Perhaps a piece of scrap like you wouldn't mind an addition to that collection of dents and scratches you have, but to someone like myself, with a nearly flawless hide, such an act cannot be tolerated."
I did not mind the insult - I had been through a lot up to the point when I became self-aware, and they provided fond memories and experiences. "Perhaps," I retorted calmly, "you could do with a few more." Then, I thought, the memory of that might keep him in line, and he might not be so cocky.
He reacted by pointing his weapon at me, and, not a second afterward, I transformed Note: I know what this sounds like, however, I can find no way to fix it, so I will clarify here: Grill's right hand and lower arm has transformed into a cannon, very much like Bumblebee's right arm does in the 2007 movie. Not, Grill, as a whole, has a third alt-mode. :P
According to the Movie Guide this would be called the "weapon mode" and is, however, treated sort of like another alt-mode. ;) and pointed my own weapon at him - a cannon developed by the most basic self-defense program. If I was forced to use it I would not be able to sustain it's wasteful power consumption long, and so would have to make every shot count. However, the blue mech made no further move, so we stood in deadlock for a moment, with my new weapon hmming eerily.
That was brought to an end by Camshaft's arrival behind me. He had tried to pry an answer out of me through the comm's, but I ignored his questions for the time being. I was prepared to fight the blue mech, until he pulled backward at the hearing of Cam's, "What's going on?"
"Finally," I heard the blue mech mumble with a smirk, "a car with some sense." He was startled, however, after I heard Camshaft speak to Viktor - a human contact was obviously not something he was expecting.
"Back up," I said quietly, so that only the bot in front of me could hear it. I hoped to get him to back off by making Camshaft's interruption seem preplanned. It apparently worked, because Camshaft repeated his question, "What's going on here, Grill?" and the other mech replied sourly, "I was just leaving." He pulled his weapon back, as did I, and gave one final nasty look at Camshaft, then myself. Finally, he returned to the asphalt and transformed. The sapphire Pontiac GTO then drove off rather quickly, a song playing loudly inside.

-o-

V
I felt rather put out; despite Cam's expression of wanting to bring me along, he blandly told me to wait while he spoke to Grill when we arrived at the scene.
Before Cam had talked me into waiting, though, the blue Pontiac looked ready to fight my dad's old Ford. I thought that maybe the blue guy destroyed the houses, but it didn't really look like he was capable of that. Especially not in an explosion, like we had heard.
"Hey kid!" someone waved to me from their doorstep. Cam was heading over to the Pontiac and Grill, so I chose to ignore the yelling man. "Hey, I wanna talk to you!" The person was persistent enough to come to me, so I turned to him as he jogged over.
"Yea?" I answered.
"Did you not just see your car turn into an alien?" he asked a little wide-eyed.
"No, I saw it. He's been doing that a lot lately," I said with a hint of sarcasm. "But, he's NOT an alien. That IS my car."
"The news is saying that robots are fighting each other in the middle of the city. They said they're alien." He replied with a bit of arrogance that came from knowing something another does not.
"Well, it wouldn't be the first time they'd be wrong," I said, a tad annoyed. "That IS my car, whether or not Channel 3 says it is."
"Whatever," he said, shrugging his shoulders and risking a quick glimpse at the automatons. "Did it, like, threaten you into going with it or something?"
"What?" This guy was getting odder by the minute, but I had little time to consider this, since Cam and Grill began coming our way.
"Oh, dude, suit yourself," he mumbled before he was off on his way back to his house.
"What was his problem?" Cam asked as the man went back inside.
"Nothing. You know, giant alien robots tearing up the city," I replied, ruffling my hair. Very little of the styling gel remained, so my hair must've been pretty flat. "Same old, same old."
It took Cam a second, but then I saw him brighten up and say, "Ohh." He looked to the house the man had disappeared into, where a gap in the curtains immediately closed. Then Cam looked back at me and asked, "Was he afraid?"
I shrugged; probably, but I thought a change of tact was in order. "What about the Pontiac?"
Grill entered the conversation by answering me first. "One human who came out of his home fired a weapon at the GTO. The Pontiac then threatened the man's life, and I intervened. I didn't see any lasting damage, but apparently he was very upset at the 'assault'."
"Really?" The Ford spoke so vaguely I had a hard time imagining the situation. "What do you mean, no 'lasting damage'?"
"The bullet left a scratch, but that's not something that he couldn't easily deal with, I think," Grill rumbled.
"Apparently not," Cam muttered, "he seemed pretty testy. But I guess he could just always be that way."
In the silence thereafter I took a few moments to appreciate the red car and truck in their taller forms. Grill gave off a low humming noise, and I saw Cam sort of blink. It was sort of odd, but it was also fun to see how they compared to humans. It seemed like a lot of things had similar principles, such as the opposable thumb on their hands (and in Cam's case, opposable pinkies as well), but some features, like the whole transforming deal, seemed nothing but alien. Also the fact that they appeared to be made of metal, and probably controlled by the vehicle's computer; yet they had personality, and, apparently, free will. They certainly had a lot of spirit.
The ring of fire truck sirens slowly drew the silence to an end, however, causing Grill to look in the direction it was coming from. "Perhaps we should leave," he suggested.
Cam, who had now contented himself with observing the surrounding area and people, asked, "Why?"
"I feel as if the varied reactions we are receiving may not be without due cause," replied Grill solemnly. "It would stand to reason that many more transformers are, in nature, like that GTO, and I think some humans may try to react in self defense - even if we provide no provocation."
"So?" Cam asked arrogantly, "if that guy with the gun was as good as 'self-defense' gets, then-"
"Have you so quickly forgotten what we saw at Viktor's residence?"
Cam recoiled.
"The jets," I murmured. "I think Grill's right. If you catch too much attention they might send jets, or tanks, or something. And those sirens are pretty high on the list of 'The Best Ways to Grab Attention' list."
"We can't get any more publicity than whatever's going on with the skyscrapers," Cam said quietly.
"Oh, yea, that guy," I pointed to the house where the man had retreated to, "said the news is reporting aliens in the center of the city; I guess they're robots like you guys, and they're fighting each other."
"You know, Viktor," Grill began, "We don't exactly fit the definition of 'robot'."
"You look like robots."
"Definition: Robot: A mechanical device operating automatically, in a seemingly human way." His tone was even as he recited.
"Got any better nouns?" I asked, unimpressed.
"Transformer: One who transforms," he replied.
"That's not obvious," Cam laughed.
"Well then, why are the other "transformers" fighting each other I wonder?" I thought aloud.
"The confrontation with that Pontiac might very well have evolved into a brawl if he hadn't left," Grill ruminated. "It could just as well be that several transformers have had some misunderstanding in the center of the city."
"If that's the case, we should help them!" Cam offered enthusiastically.
"Should we really?" queried Grill. "We don't have a clue as to what's going on. If we rush headlong into a battle that we know neither the motives nor the possible long-term repercussions of, then we might as well sign off our individual thought. We may be in over our heads already, by coming into existence."
"Well, I'm not going to keel over for the sake of convenience," Cam replied mulishly.
"I'm not asking you to. I just want to offer that we lay low until we have a better handle on the situation."
"Fine," conceded Cam.
"So then," continued Grill, "the next question is where do we seek shelter until such a time as we deem necessary as to reveal ourselves to them?"
Grill looked at me after this, so I stammered, "Home?"
"I think it would be best," he replied.

End Chapter Two