(Chapter Seven—Hope Floats)
(Disclaimers in Chapter 1)
Ratchet ran tests on the other coffins. Jazz was gone-that made sense, because he had been killed while the All-Spark still existed. But each of the other coffins had an energy field that he couldn't explain.
Flareup asked plaintively, "Why do you think Arcee didn't come to me?"
Chromia said, "Maybe it only works with sparkmates. Ironhide and I've been together for so long, that it only makes sense I have an imprint of his spark pattern. Arcee was your twin but it isn't exactly the same kind of bond. Or maybe she's in a better place. Primus knows she's earned her rest. Are ghosts really all here in this world, or is most of them really in the Well of Sparks?"
Flareup nodded. "It's just…I miss her so much," she cried.
Chromia held her. "I know you do, sparkling, I know you do. So do I."
Sideswipe said with a very uncharacteristic hesitation, "This may be a horrible idea, or just plain impossible, but-if their sparks are still here at all, and everybody has memory backups, why can't we make them new frames?"
Ratchet said, "If we had protoforms that had never been activated, and I downloaded their backups into them-in theory, their sparks should be drawn to the new bodies. But where would we get protoforms on this planet?"
"What would we need to build them that we don't have?" Prime asked.
Ratchet thought about it. "Specialized equipment, and I'll have to build tools to make the tools. But I can do that. It will just take time. We can donate and culture protoform liquimetal. Again, that will take time. The thing that makes each of us unique from a base protoform is our own set of nanobots. They start to differentiate from the base form as soon as we come online. The major differences occur with our first transformation. Even if we return to protoforms later, we still carry a memory in our nanobots that carries over when we scan a new form. I should be able to recover them from Wheeljack, Arcee and Mirage. Chromia, you and Ironhide almost certainly carried a few of each other's nanobots. The more of his that I can extract from you, the better the match his new frame will be to the old one. But the twins...there's no way to recover any of their nanobots."
Because she knew nobot else would dare to be the first one to suggest it in front of her, Chromia said, "I think we should bring back Wheeljack first. He was always the one who did this kind of theoretical work. If anyone can figure out something for the Little Twins, Que would be the one."
For the first time, Lennox spoke up. "This can't leave this room. You tell everyone that they're brand new Autobots named after the ones who died. Maybe even admit to downloading their memories. But if anyone out there ever finds out you can bring back the dead, it will be chaos. People will be wanting their loved ones back, and it'll mean fuck-all to them that it works different for humans. Nobody can ever know."
Prime nodded slowly. People made desperate by the loss of their loved ones might be capable of anything. "This is basically the same process that would have been used to create protoforms for sparklings in the early days, except that they would have been blank slates. Then they would have been taken to the All-Spark to be granted a new spark. There are old traditions that we can put to good use."
Bumblebee carefully strung together clips of words to create a more complicated sentence than his usual. "If this is forbidden knowledge, forgive me for asking. But if the original Primes created the Allspark, where did their sparks come from in the first place?"
Optimus said, "There's no good reason for it to be forbidden knowledge anymore. You are all that remains of the Autobots, so you need to know these things. Now that Sentinel and Megatron are dead, I am the last of the Primes, so what information I don't pass on to you will die with me. The original Seven didn't create the Allspark. It was the other way around. The Allspark was created by Primus, at least if we can put any credibility in anything Sentinel ever told me."
Chromia said, "I don't think that pit-spawned glitch would have lied about anything that you could have discussed with another Prime. He couldn't afford to get caught in a lie and lose your trust."
Optimus had to agree that was logical. In his youth he had spent time with Ultra Magnus and the others as well as Sentinel, and it would not have been out of the ordinary for him to have asked them to clarify something he didn't understand. "The Allspark was discovered by the Quintessons and used to create their slave race—our ancestors—but it had its own intelligence and hated to be used for that. Unknown to them, it sparked the original Primes so that they could lead the rebellion."
Ratchet said, "We could pretend to use something like some ancient progenitive ritual to explain to the outside humans where all the new bots came from. They wouldn't know the difference." The way he said "outside" made it clear to Sam, Carly, Georgie and Will that they were part of the family, whatever bodies they wore. "The Matrix of Leadership absorbed the energy of the Allspark from Sam here. It's basic that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, so its ability to generate life should, in theory, still exist. We just don't know how to do that yet."
That started several months of intensive work, all on nothing more than hope and faith. Ratchet worked obsessively, but eventually had to admit he needed help, and there was only one person he trusted.
Mikaela Banes had been his apprentice before she and Sam had broken up and she had left town. They had stayed in touch, though. When he called her one afternoon and told her he needed her, she hadn't hesitated or even asked what he needed her for. "As soon as Prime can push my travel clearances through, I'll be on a plane."
That took a few days. She left Baltimore in a snow storm an hour before the airport closed, and walked down the ramp on Christmas Eve in a torrential rain.
Ratchet was waiting in alt form, he opened his door for her and she dived in. "It's raining cats and dogs out there!"
"How was your flight?"
"Long! I spent half the flight sleeping on a pile of crates. Ratchet, you should have called me sooner! Damn it, I'd have been there in Chicago!"
"I know you would've. There wasn't a chance."
"Well, better late than never. What can I do?"
She listened, wide-eyed, as he told her.
It felt weird when they got into the commons and Sam and Carly were there. They shook hands awkwardly like old acquaintances, who had shot up a town together and lost their virginity to each other what felt like forever ago.
Wheelie was less restrained. "WARRIOR GODDESS!" He leapt up to her arms and she hugged him. "You came home!"
"I guess I did. I left you with Sam because I thought you guys would be safer there than running all over creation with me, now what's this I hear about you crashing a 'Con carrier in the fraggin' Chicago River?"
"They put us out on the balcony in a box with the dog!" Wheelie adroitly shifted the in-trouble spotlight Sam's way.
"Fuckin' hell!" She shouted. "Sam Witwicki, you son of a bitch!"
Sam grabbed Carly and dived behind Bumblebee, figuring at least Kaela still liked him. She had cried when she said goodbye to him!
Ratchet threw her duffel bag to Sam, none too gently. "Find her an empty berth. Come on, Kaela, I'll show you where you'll be working."
Wheelie and Brains went with Kaela. Ratchet pushed through a large doorway curtained off with strips of plastic sheeting. Five half-finished protoforms lay on high tables. She shuddered as it reminded her of bodies laid out on morgue slabs. "Ratchet, I'll do whatever you need, but I don't know what that is."
"Back home, protoforms were built by healers who specialized in that, and they had a lot of mods that really weren't used for anything else. A lot of it is exceptionally delicate work up inside their frames. I'd have to do it remotely. You've always had a talent for that kind of work. I'll show you what I mean."
She dropped her carry on under the tool bench and got to work. Before they knew it, six hours had passed and it was 0100 on Christmas morning. Ratchet gave her a lift down from the table.
Wheelie told her, "You'll have to go up to Ops and sign in to get your key-card."
Ratchet checked on a couple of things. "I'll walk up there with you."
"Why?"
The old medic vented a huff of hot air. "Sam's Ops team now. You're on my team. If I have to make that clear I'd rather do it now and get it over with."
"I can handle Sam."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"I won't kill him. Much."
Ratchet snorted. "Let's just get you in your quarters sometime before daylight. You need something to eat, too, your blood sugar is low."
"I wish you wouldn't do that. It wasn't like they served meals on the transport."
The rain had slacked off enough that Ratchet was able to shelter her and the minibots under an outstretched servo. They went on in to Ops and she asked Sides about the key-card.
Mearing walked over. "What's this about a fight in the commons between you and Sam?"
"What fight was that?"
"Don't get smart with me."
Kaela's eyes narrowed as she stood toe to toe with the older woman. "Don't get holier than thou with me. I asked you what fight was that because there was no fight. There were some sharp words because I didn't like the way he treated some friends of mine, then he took his little girlfriend and hid behind Bee. You got a problem with me, say so. Sam's got a problem with me, tell him to say so, or better yet tell him to stick it up his ass, do his job and let me do mine. I am not Ops team. I am Med team. Unless he's bleeding, I don't need to have anything to do with him. Now unless you do have some kind of a problem, give me my fraggin' key-card so I can get some shuteye before I go back to work in the morning."
Mearing handed it to her. "You're right next to the second-story entrance to the medbay."
"Thank you." She turned on her heel and went back to Ratchet.
Mearing glared at the minibots. "What are you two looking at?"
Brains clapped his servo over Wheelie's mouth before he could tell her, and dragged him off after Kaela. They went back to the commons.
Kaela said good night to Ratchet, then raided the kitchen. She found a large crock pot of bean soup and some cornbread, and finally located a bowl. After she cleared away her mess, she went upstairs and found her quarters. This had every indication of being fun, fun, fun for a while.
A.N.: Chapter title from Hope Floats by Heather Mac Rae. /A.N.
