8: The Madness of Love

It was the fifth day since Silverbolt had died; Blackarachnia could not stop herself from counting. She was a little puzzled right now—she knew his death would hurt her emotionally…but physically? Lately, she had a horrible pain in her chest which had been unnoticeable the first few days because of her emotional pain. Now that she was not crying every ten minutes, she could feel the pain.

Yesterday had been terrible: it was the day Depth Charge had rescued her just for the sake of lying to her and hearing her most private thoughts. Today, however, had been a good day for her, because she had had no time to think about Silverbolt. She had spent the whole day hiding and running from the maximals which were trying to find her.

That treacherous aqua-bot Depth Charge had broken his promise and told everybody where she was. This fact, of course, did not cause as much anger in her as confusion. Depth Charge told Optimus where Blackarachnia was, but why? It was not like Depth Charge could be that worried about her! He never got close to anyone. He was afraid Rampage might end up killing anyone he dared call a friend.

Now Blackarachnia was at the promised rendezvous point to meet Knight. The disfigured wolf was punctual. Blackarachnia marveled again at Knight's similarity to Silverbolt's beast mode. Those noble, golden dog eyes were his, as was the dignified way he carried himself. These features almost made up for the fact that Knight was tail-less, had disfigured toes, and scars on his back. Blackarachnia could not help thinking that if there were big, soft wings in place of those scars, talons in place of those disfigured toes, and a tuft of eagle's tail-feathers for a tail, Knight would look exactly like Silverbolt. Was this Knight wolf a figment of her imagination, just a dream that Silverbolt might possibly be alive?

"Knight," Blackarachnia began, "you've seen how I can change form from a spider to a robot. Can, uh…can you do that?"

"Change form?" Knight asked in surprise. "I don't know; I've never tried. What do I say?"

"You say: 'maximize'," Blackarachnia instructed. "But it…it won't work without a certain other word. Why don't you say: 'Silverbolt, Maximize'?"

"Silverbolt, maximize!" Knight ordered. He was surprised with how much ease and familiarity the words rolled off his tongue. But nothing happened; he did not change. This was awfully crushing for Blackarachnia, and she made him try many more times. It was of no avail.

"Sla—" Blackarachnia began. Silverbolt wouldn't want her to lose her temper and start saying a bunch of bad words. She shut herself up. But she was not ready to give up on Knight yet. "Don't you remember anything, Knight?" she asked. "How long have you been with your wolf pack?"

"Not long," Knight answered. "Only a night and four days."

A night and four days! Silverbolt had died exactly five days ago! It was too close to be a coincidence! Blackarachnia could not stand this. Knight had told her that he had no memory at all beyond these last four days, and the suspense was driving her mad. Could this be Silverbolt? No. It was impossible!

"I have to go," the spider-lady said, keeping her cool. "Catcha later." She paused before walking off. "I will catcha later, won't I?"

"Of course! I couldn't stand it any other way!" Knight exclaimed. It seemed like he had always been next to this Blackarachnia person, and he loved being with her. Or maybe he just loved her.

Blackarachnia involuntarily sighed with relief. Knight was her mind's preoccupation now; he filled her thoughts as she walked through the woods next to a rocky cliff-side.

Suddenly she whirled around and faced the cliff; a familiar laugh had come from up there somewhere. She saw him: Quickstrike. Why was he here? Blackarachnia nearly choked when she realized: this was the cliff that had the cavern in it where they had left Silverbolt's body. He always wanted to be left on the field of battle when he died, so they had respected his wishes and lain him in a little cave close to where the rockslide had been which had killed him. Now here was Quickstrike, messing around with her love's honorable place of death? No!

Blackarachnia took out her gun and fired, without taking time to aim well, at the predacon. Quickstrike jumped aside.

"Nice try there, sugar-bot!" he hollered. "Y'know, I hoped ya would give up on those stink'n maximals while you still had a pred command code, but since you crossed the Rubicon, you've made us predacons pretty angry! We don't care much for traitors!" He fired a blast of cyber-venom towards the spider.

Blackarachnia jumped out of the way; it was too close for comfort.

"No less crafty though, are ya, femme?" he shouted down at her. "Well, let's let the records speak: every predacon traitor dies! We got rid 'o that blasted dino-butt, and we didn't have to kill your boyfriend: the rockslide did it for us! He he hee, hah ha ha!"

"You shut your scummy mouth!" Blackarachnia roared.

Quickstrike was still laughing. "Now it's your turn, traitor! In fact, I so dog-gone liked the idea of a kill'n rockslide that I think you deserve one, too! Happy Birthday!" The predacon fired numerously at a loose-lying pile of boulders. They began to fall. Quickstrike grinned and flew the coop.

A rockslide didn't bother Blackarachnia. Now, she could die. She could die alongside Silverbolt, just the way he had died—and they would be together again. She stood still as the boulders came rolling down.

A loud and vehement wolf-howl broke out, and suddenly Blackarachnia found herself knocked down by someone. The "someone" forced her onto his back and took off running. It was a wild ride; boulders and rocks were flying in every direction, whizzing sometimes only inches from their heads, and dust blinding them. Blackarachnia then felt a change of light as they entered a dark, shady cavern, out of the reach of the rockslide.

Knight was carrying her on his back. Panting, the silver wolf dropped her gently onto the ground. "Why didn't you move?" Knight asked, flabbergasted.

Blackarachnia did not answer the question. "You—you saved me!" she screamed, utterly incensed. "You idiot! You ruined it! I was supposed to die! Why did you have to come?!"

"It is my duty ma'am," the wolf replied, "as a knight, and as a heroic character."

Blackarachnia's jaw dropped. Impossible! That was Silverbolt's voice; it was almost his exact line! She realized suddenly that she was in a cavern—the cavern where they had left Silverbolt's body! She looked around, but Silverbolt was not there.

There was a long silence.

"You're Silverbolt," Blackarachnia exclaimed, trying not to cry. "You are—you have to be Silverbolt! It doesn't make any sense, but it's true! If you're not him, then his body would still be here. You're a transformer named Silverbolt!!! And now you can come back to the maximals with me and it'll be heaven!"

"Me? Silverbolt? A Transformer?" Knight asked incredulously. "I told you, my name is Knight, and I'm a wolf. I can't transform and I have no memory. And I can't leave my pack."

Blackarachnia stayed her joy. Of course. How could she convince Knight of his true identity? Maybe if she brought him to see all the maximals…yes, she would show him the maximals one by one, and then his memory would come back. But now she had to go; she had to tell Depth Charge that she had found Silverbolt, and that, ironically, the manta-ray's lie had come true!

"I'm sorry," said Blackarachnia. "You can be Knight if that's who you think you are. Will you meet me tonight, and see my friend Depth Charge?"

Still confused, Knight nodded.

Blackarachnia turned to go, but changed her mind. She had to know one more thing. "You may not accept your true identity yet, and I understand that. I took a long time in accepting mine. You don't remember yourself, but do you remember me?"

"I think I have always remembered you," Knight answered, surprising even himself by the words. "Blackarachnia—you're one of the only memories I have left to hold on to. I feel so…so complete when I'm with you. I just—I just want to be with you."

He laughed. "I know this feeling well. It's the feeling that binds all hearts and holds all memory—the connector. But I've forgotten its name."

"Its name is love," said Blackarachnia, and left.

***

Knight and Darkstar were on sentry duty, watching the land from on top of a hill while the rest of the pack got some sleep. The sun was setting and it painted the whole sky a wonderful orange color. Knight appreciated Darkstar's friendship with him; it was true, the black wolf's temper could get out of hand sometimes, but then, couldn't everybody's?

Darkstar began to talk. "Knight, you know that spider? The one that you insisted on rescuing? It's true; she was defenseless—but she was not innocent. There's a balance between honor and duty—for instance, it is not honorable to strike a creature when it is helpless, but it is your duty to destroy the evil. That spider came here to kill us. She is one of many strange creatures called Transformers. They came to this planet and caused ruin."

"Ruin?" Knight asked. "The spider seemed irreproachable." He subconsciously sighed, thinking of her.

"No!" Darkstar snapped. "All robots…they only mean to do us wolves harm! They came to our planet and poisoned us with the foul air from their ships, killed us with their wars, burned our forests to ashes with their careless gunfire. You must never ever mingle with them; you must never, ever go back to them."

"I must never go back to them?" Knight repeated.

"Yes," Darkstar smiled; "You were once one of them. You were hurt; somebody damaged you badly, as you can see from your disfiguration, and they also made it so you cannot transform. I do not know who did this—I know only that you were helpless. Brent wanted to kill you, but I insisted that you stay alive."

That was inconsistent, Knight thought. If Darkstar was allowed to spare his life, then why was it wrong for Knight to spare Blackarachnia's? He thought this was conspicuous, but was too overwhelmed with other thoughts to take it completely in. If Knight himself was a Transformer, then Blackarachnia was right: he belonged with the Transformers. But if Darkstar was right, the robots were threatening evil-doers. Knight should consider himself lucky to be alive—Darkstar should have killed him for his unremembered wrongs. It was all too confusing!

"Say—" Darkstar said, "let me ask you some things. You are in pain. Whenever I see you, you are fighting physical pain. Why? I made sure you were well."

"I don't know," Knight replied. "I think it's—heartache."

"Physical heartache?" Darkstar pondered. "Hmm. Well, you have no memory of your past life. Yet, you seem to have a good deal of noblese obligue. Where do you get the obligation to be so noble?"

Knight thought. These two feelings had to have a root. But what was that root, that connector? Knight felt if once he remembered that foundation, he would be free of pain and loss. He could not, however, remember it. "I don't know!" he repeated, exasperated.

"Never mind," Darkstar smiled. "Just keep this in your memory: you are indebted to me. So when I need your help with things, you help me. Okay?"

"I guess so…" Knight had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being used.