CHAPTER NINE
XXX
"Are you sure you feel ready to move? You are more than welcome to stay on the couch," his mother furrowed her brow as he stood on shaky legs, his muscles seeming to strain and ache with a cramp in every fiber.
"I'm sure, mom," he assured her. "I could use a change of scenery. And I'll probably be more comfortable sleeping in my own bed."
For once, when he stood up he did not feel the immediate need to throw up, which he took as a sign that the Tylenol and Ibuprofen were working. He still felt dizzy, uncomfortably hot, and ached all over, but at least the headache was bearable and he did not need to throw his head in a bowl every thirty seconds. He gave his mom a smile.
"I'll be okay, promise. See you in the morning?"
Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, looking concerned, however she conceded to his dismissal.
"If you start feeling bad, take some Tylenol," she instructed him, walking with him to his bedroom door, which was closed. Jack's hand rested on the doorknob, but he did not open it quite yet. She noticed it was as if he was hiding something, though she could not fathom what it was he was embarrassed about. Maybe his room was a mess, but she could not blame him for that - the poor kid was sick.
"I will. Goodnight, mom," he said, his pale cheeks having regained a little bit of pink to them. She was glad to see he seemed a little better, bidding him good night before she too disappeared into her own bedroom.
Jack felt a little more energized as the adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind having raced as he wondered if his mother was going to enter his room with him. If Megatron was there, sitting on his bed, her freak-out would most definitely wake up the whole neighborhood, and somehow summon Arcee right to the boy's room. He was relieved when she seemed disinterested in following him inside, in too much misery to truly deal with the consequences.
He slipped into his room, closing the door and silently locking it for good measure. Turning, he saw deep red optics watching him.
"You are still unwell," Megatron stated the obvious from his perch in Jack's bed.
"Very," Jack replied, feeling as if he was dragging himself to bed. Megatron shifted, the seated tyrant giving him room to slide under the covers, his eyes never leaving him.
"Has your mother given you a diagnosis?"
"It's probably just flu," Jack did not want to know how much snooping Soundwave had done to figure out his mom was a nurse. "Body aches, chills, fever, vomiting, the works. I'll get over it within the next couple of days."
Megatron hummed in understanding, taking the information in stride. He waited for Jack to settle, noticing he still shivered on occasion. Sharp digits brushed his cheek, feeling just how warm he was. Megatron's sensors were not equipped to read temperature as accurately as a medic's, however he could tell the human was well above his normal. His body was trying to cook the pathogen, yet in doing so it also risked denaturing its own proteins.
Jack closed his eyes, letting Megatron touch, too sick to really care. "I don't suppose Amicus got sick," he mumbled.
"No, he never did," Megatron tilted his helm. "However, there were no organisms on Cybertron equipped to infiltrate the human body and wreak havoc."
That made sense, Jack supposed. He felt Megatron's digits trace down his jaw, the human almost able to feel the corresponding gaze. He had the blankets pulled up to his chin, however he briefly wondered if Megatron regularly imagined what he looked like underneath them.
Great. Now I'll never be able to sleep, knowing he's eyeing me.
"Tell me more about Amicus," he requested quietly, wanting to distract the tyrant and himself. "You said he would talk about Sentinel-Zeta's secrets. What did he know?"
There was a soft rumble, Megatron chuckling.
"He knew everything."
XXX
Megatron stood in the pleasure court, Bastet having left mere moments ago upon his request. The Decepticon was paranoid, not trusting anyone outside of Soundwave with these meetings; though Bastet had been a slave, that did not mean he had no loyalties to the Autobot cause. If he so chose, he could listen in on what Amicus shared with Megatron and then relay it to the Autobots, giving them a heads-up on what to expect. Of course, Amicus could behave the same way, however something told Megatron that the Autobots had lost any potential support from the organic long ago.
One of their own had tormented him and his fellow courtesans for years - to Amicus, this was representative of the entire cause. He would not want to be a part of that so soon after being liberated by their enemy.
His optics settled on the aforementioned organic, who lounged on a chair a few inches below his optic level. As per usual, the human looked almost bored, though Megatron had not come to entertain him.
Amicus had done the favor of wearing more clothing, covering up the skin that disgusted Megatron so. It was still done in a rather distasteful manner, with thin and flowing fabrics that appeared to engulf him more than anything, still leaving little room for the imagination as it clung to his frame. Cybertronians who wore clear or less opaque armor were considered risqué; a human should be thought of as no different.
This time when Amicus spoke Megatron could understand him. Soundwave had downloaded Bastet's files from his processor, copied them, enhanced them, then provided them to his leader to file away in his own CPU. The language was an odd one, for sure, though Megatron had to admit he had not heard enough organic languages to make an adequate comparison.
"So, where would you like to begin?" Amicus asked, almost lazily.
Megatron paused. Where did he want to begin?
"Iacon," he said, finally. "We have taken over most of the city, stomping out what resistances might still be present. But I doubt the Autobots would leave their most treasured city without defenses."
"You assume correctly," Amicus said casually. "How far have your Decepticons infiltrated the city? As far as I am aware, this palace rests more on the outskirts."
"We near its center, at the Hall of Records," Megatron informed him, however he made no effort to give crucial details. Regardless where his loyalties lie, he was not going to trust the human just yet. "A fortress in and of itself, guarded by Autobot Elite Guardsmen."
"Yes, that will be your most difficult operation," Amicus admitted, not at all shy about sharing. "The Hall holds important records and relics that the Autobots will not let go of so easily. However, I believe your sacking of Iacon will not be successful without first taking the city of Kalis."
"Kalis?" Megatron frowned, wondering what kind of game he was playing at. "And what would that city-state have to offer me?"
"You don't know what it's about, do you?" The human sounded infuriatingly amused. "Kalis is the entire reason this city runs. Without it, Iacon goes dark. If you allow the Autobots to maintain control of Kalis, it won't be long before they cut of the Iacon power supply, making this city essentially useless to you."
Of course. He realized. Megatron had assumed that Iacon merely powered itself. Why would it not? After all, it already housed powerful constructions such as the Hall of Records, High Council Tower, and the Observatory. His sources were already aware of the presence of Teletraan-1 below the Tower, of which housed the Power Chamber he assumed had been used for the city. But if the true source was in Kalis . . .?
"So then, the Plasma Energy Chamber is merely a reservoir, something yet to be tapped into," he mused aloud.
"If you speak of what is in Teletraan-1, then yes," he supposed he should not have been surprised Amicus knew about that, but it made him wonder what he didn't know. "Its purpose remains a mystery to me, however I've come to suspect the involvement of what you might call a . . . Titan."
"We have one of our own," Megatron replied. "It is of no concern to us."
Amicus cocked an eyebrow. "If that is the case, I would highly suggest you focus your assets on Kalis, if you truly wish to maintain control of this city."
"You will suggest nothing to me," the tyrant snapped at him, though the human did not even flinch. "I will decide what is best for the next stage of our takeover of Cybertron."
"If that is what you wish," Amicus said smoothly, readjusting his position in the chair to regain comfort. "I will warn you, however, of the anti-aircraft turrets. You were lucky enough to come this far, I suspect, due to them falling into disrepair. However, the Autobots will eventually have them running again, and then your Seekers will be at risk, as well as any other of your flying types you may have."
"I am aware," Megatron growled. "I have already begun receiving reports of some coming into play."
Amicus tilted his head. "How unfortunate," he sighed. He looked at Megatron. "When it comes to defense and military strategies, I can only help so much. I don't know the exact locations of these turrets, or other artillery, only that they exist. And if they are in a decrepit state, or not."
The dictator tilted his helm. "Why would a Prime share any of this information with you?" He questioned, increasingly suspicious. It was strange, how he knew so much.
There was a pause, Amicus's fingers playing with a bracelet he wore around his wrist, the gold metal flashing in the light.
"Sentinel-Zeta found great pleasure in telling me things he could say to no one else," he said, his voice casual and yet he did not make eye contact with Megatron. "It was one of the many ways he would . . . seek release. If I told anyone, I would die, and he found it pleasant to think that I held every private thought he had. It was a means of control he had over me, outside of the obvious."
Megatron did not bother hiding the disgust on his face, denta baring at the mere thought of the Cybertronian finding intimate pleasure in something as abhorrent as the organic. Especially in a way that made Megatron's energon boil; he resented the idea of the loss of autonomy, even if it was in an insignificant creature such as Amicus.
The human adjusted his clothing, still not looking at Megatron. "It was one of many ways he found pleasure with me."
"I don't care," the statement was harsh, Megatron speaking truthfully yet he was not angry at Amicus. No, he was even more hateful towards the Prime. "Sentinel-Zeta was pathetic. Only a weak spark would find pleasure in something as trivial as a secret."
Finally, Amicus looked up at him, the corner of his lip upturned. "If that is the case, perhaps you would not mind sharing one in turn, then. It is only fair, after all, that I learn a bit about you, as you have learned a bit about me."
"You have no business prying into my private life," Megatron growled at him, red optics pulsating angrily. "Nor is it of any concern if I share information with you. You are to do one thing, and one thing only: answer the questions I ask of you, truthfully."
Amicus blinked slowly, considering his options. Eventually, he conceded, though he was fully transparent: "If that is how it will be. However, I will remain quite curious about you. You are legendary among your people, Set. I would eventually like to know what makes you so great."
The dictator almost took his last sentence as an insult, however his internal translator failed to compute the name given to him. "Set?"
"God of chaos, of the desert, fire, deception, who fought and destroyed his brother Osiris for the throne of our land," Amicus described to him. "You remind me much of him."
The Decepticon narrowed his optics. "I doubt it is in a positive context."
"He was the one who accompanied Ra, our sun, to defeat the serpent of Chaos and annihilation, Apophis," the human was keeping his description brief, but that was all Megatron truly needed. "You defeated Sentinel-Zeta, my Apophis. And for that, you are my Set."
He realized the strange organic was complimenting him. The more he thought about it, the more he understood why the associations were made. Yes, one would initially believe that chaos, destruction, and deception were evil, however without them there would be no change - there could be no new life. Furthermore, it sounded like this Set was a liberator, a protector. He had not defeated Sentinel-Zeta for the sake of the Prime's slaves, however regardless of his intent, that was how Amicus saw him.
"A fitting description, then," he said, conceding to the idea that it was a flattering title. He regarded Amicus with dangerous amusement. "Tell me, then, do you consider me a god?"
The human showed no surprise at the question, instead thinking over his words carefully.
"Initially, I would have believed you were," he admitted, then continued, "but my time with Sentinel-Zeta has shown me you are all mortal, though perhaps not in comparison to our meager lifespans."
Megtron could accept that answer. Yes, they lived immortal lives compared to organics, yet they had their flaws. Some more corrupt than others.
"Is there anything else you wish to know?" Amicus switched the topic away with some clumsiness, as if he no longer wanted to linger on the subject. Megatron gazed at him for a long time, deciding he had what he needed for now.
"No," he shifted, straightening his spinal strut just a little more, "but expect that I will return. And should you share any of the details with Bastet . . ."
"I would trust him with my life," Amicus rebuttaled. "However, if you command that this remains between you and I, I will honor it."
"I do not trust him," Megatron snipped, "therefore, he will know nothing."
"As you wish," Amicus stood, then gave the tyrant a bow. "Lord Megatron."
Something pulsed across the tyrant's frame, like some sort of chill, however he was unsure what to make of it. Instead he turned around silently, making his way towards the court doors, leaving Amicus in his lonesome, trapped within the gilded cage.
XXX
Jack had long ago slipped into exhausted sleep, however Megatron continued to whisper the story into his ear. It had taken him some time, however eventually he realized that Amicus was right: it was most satisfactory, and most thrilling, to murmur secrets to another.
His digits caressed bare cheeks, touching the abnormally warm skin with a gentleness no one would ever accuse him of. Back then, Megatron still did not care for the organic, dismissing his tragedies and observing his bare skin with utter disdain. Eventually, though, he would come to pity Amicus, see that they were not much different from one another.
Both of them had suffered at the hands of those who deserved the worst eternal punishment imaginable, able to relate to each other's pain in a way no one else could. And in doing so, they found a way to take it away.
Unconventional, for sure, but Megatron had found long ago that conventional was not suited for him. Jack had his own hang-ups, but if he was anything like his predecessor, and perhaps even like Megatron, he would pass them by soon enough.
Then, nothing would stand between the tyrant and his prize.
