Well, I'll put it this way: I highly recommend NOT using Cybertronians as pillows. They're too solid, uncomfortable, and complain if you shift position too often. I know this from personal experience.
I woke up knowing I was safe (kinda hard to feel exposed with a metal T-rex, jaguar, lion, and two birds curled up around you like a litter of puppies), but something was wrong. I sat up and tried to stretch, and realized I should have broken down and done the crazy-explorer-kid thing and found a pile of leaves or something to sleep on. Anyway, back to the bad feeling that didn't have much to do with my early-morning soreness.
The Transformers were up and about in minutes, and the four tapes securely nestled in my pocket. I glanced around and noticed Perceptor seemed strangely quiet that morning. Maybe that's what was unsettling me; Perceptor wasn't the most vocal Autobots, but he sure wasn't this serious…usually.
Again I hitched a ride, but this time on Mr. Morning Person himself, Perceptor. I figured Grimlock would need a bit of a rest after carrying me AND our scientist friend all day yesterday. Surprisingly (or maybe not, I guess) I couldn't tell where we were going as the two flew through the misty morning chill. Until we reached our destination, I kept my thoughts to myself. Once on the ground, however, I just had to say something.
"Of all the places to go in this Generation, you pick the Ruby Crystal Mines as our vacation spot?" I muttered. Perceptor ignored me.
"Perceptor make warp here," my incredibly articulate Dynobot stated. I rolled my eyes.
"And I can contact Wheeljack from here, see if there's any news about the situation in Sparkworld," the red-armored Autobots added. I wasn't really paying attention, though. I was wondering how this place could exist. Weren't rubies always imported from out-of-country because there weren't any mines in our lovely US of A?
Mine closed today, Grimlock reassured me. I wanted to say something really stinging, but nothing came to mind. So, with no valid protests to prevent it, we entered the mine. It was kind of cool, I have to admit. The walls shimmered red, like they were soaked in blood, (creepy thought) but we didn't actually get that far in. Perceptor broke off some good-sized crystals, and we headed back outside.
"Okay, so, what're they for?" I demanded. Perceptor ignored me (this was becoming a habit) and handed me four of the five rocks before going off a little way with the final one. As he fiddled with it, an idea from Absolute Nowheresville began to take shape in my mind.
I placed the four translucent, glittering gems at the four cardinal directions. Surveying my work, I decided it still needed something, so I pulled out my useless phone charger and used the prongs to gouge lines in the ground, connecting the four crystals. They formed a huge square around me and Grimlock. I set the prongs in the ground and left them there, then took out the cell phone and plugged it into the cord.
"The 43s sent Cougar's Unit where? All they way to Beast Wars? But that was someone else's mission! What are the coordinates?" Perceptor was saying as he came back toward me. "03020203. Right. Thanks, Wheeljack – I guess." Luckily for me, I'd never had much for common sense, so I (of course) entered the number in my cell phone, then hit the green call button. Please do not ask why. For some reason, it made sense (please don't ask about this, either): Generation Three – Beast Wars; Season Two; Episodes Two and Three – The Coming of the Fuzors. Unluckily for me, I kind of needed that common sense right then, because the lines between the rubies flared red, and a crimson glow covered the ground at my feet. And that wasn't even the worst of it: Grimlock and I were sinking into the light.
"Perceptor!" I screamed. He (as was his custom now) ignored me, still talking to Wheeljack.
"Not now, Lynn, I'm on the phone," he called. I could have happily dented his shiny metal helmet for that. He was on the phone?
"Perceptor, I'm being swallowed by light from MY phone!" I shouted. Which, (once again) he ignored.
"That's nice, Lynn," he told me. I felt like screaming. Infact, I think I did scream – some wordlessly, some of it highly unpleasant.
"Perceptor, get you stupid aft over here or I'll sell you to a junkyard for spare parts!" I threatened. Irritated (and, naturally, not wanting to become a heap of scrap), the inventor 'bot finally looked up and saw me disappearing into the red waves of light.
"Why me?" he complained as he waded into the red window after us.