Chapter Thirty Seven
24th December
0100hrs
Regarding humans, it is said that when waking from a coma or other traumatic form of unconsciousness, hearing is the first sense to be regained, and when venturing towards death it is the last sense to leave. The red twin was unsure if it was generally the same for Autobots, but the first thing he became aware of was the stench.
It brushed across his olfactory sensors and forced the converted impulses up into his CPU where it associated that stench with a musty damp odour, and the odour of death long since undiscovered in such a place.
Then his awareness of what he returned, or he at least acknowledged it.
Now if you load your rifle right…
"What?"
And if you fix your bayonet so
Music…
And if you kill that man, my friend, the one we call the foe
Human music…
And if you do it often lad
Its words, while sung pleasantly enough, stung him.
And if you do it right
It drifted on the foul air around him.
You'll be a hero overnight
Strangely, perhaps eerily poignant.
You'll save your country from her plight
He and his brother had heard those words many times.
Remember God is always right
He pulled himself from the sludge at that.
If you survive to see the sight, friend now greeting foe
No, he didn't expect he would. Didn't think he really wanted to.
No, you won't believe in If anymore
"I guess not".
Its an illusion
Likewise, the music's origins.
Its an illusion
He decided to locate the source. Maybe find someone down here.
No, you won't believe in If anymore
Some one alive.
If is for children
Was that what he was?
If is for children
Were the lyrics written in the past by a human who had foresight…
Building daydreams
With the sole intent of mocking him?
If I knew then what I know now
He'd certainly said that enough times…
I thought I did you know somehow
He began the walk through the sludge towards it.
If I could have the time again
No, he definitely did NOT want to go through this again.
I'd take the sunshine and leave the rain
Went without saying…
If only time would trickle slow
The tunnel was black, the sludge under his feet cold, but the music was getting louder, clearer.
Like rain that melts the fallen snow
A dim light up ahead broke out from the pitch.
If only Lord, if only
Please, let this be the end of this debacle.
If only Lord, if only
I will go to service every week, Primus, I swear!
Oh I don't believe in If anymore
The music came from a small room type structure off the main tunnel.
Its an illusion
There was a human.
Its an illusion
He was sitting with his back to the Autobot.
Oh I don't believe in If anymore
There was an old device on the rickety table; humans called it a "radio".
If is for children
The man was wearing heavy, worn clothing. Strong boots. A hard hat.
If is for children
The light came from a small oil fuelled lamp.
Building daydreams
He was whittling something.
No I don't believe in if anymore
"Hello".
Its an illusion
The man didn't respond.
Its an illusion
"Hey! Human, how do I get out of here?"
No I don't believe in if anymore
The man stopped whittling, his head slowly lifted, but he remained facing the away.
If is for children
"I'm talking to you human, its rude not to respond".
If is for children
Sideswipe wished he hadn't bothered the man as he watched him slowly turn to face him.
Building daydreams
Only there was no face. Only blackness or rather, emptiness.
The music stopped abruptly, and the man stood, the knife in his right hand and the piece of wood in his left dropping simultaneously until they disappeared into the sludge.
"Ah… I'm sorry for disturbing you, I'll… I'll just be going now… hehe".
The man took a step towards the Autobot.
"They… are… here…"
"What? Who?"
"They… are… here…"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand".
"No… you… don't… they… are… here…"
"Okay… what do I do about them?"
"Into… swine…"
"What?"
"Into… swine…"
"Who?"
"They… are… here…"
"Yes, yes, I gathered that! But who? Who are they?"
"Legion".
"What? That makes no sense".
"They… are… here…."
Sideswipe was more frustrated than frightened at this point, and he face palmed if only to express to himself that irritation.
"You've said that many times, but who is…"
He looked up and noticed the man, his radio, his table, his knife, his whittling… all gone.
"Well! Of course!"
He threw his arms up in annoyance.
"Okay, get it together Sides, you can do this, you can sort this slag out, I'll go find Sunny, he'll know what to do".
Its an illusion.
The words suddenly past through his CPU, it was rather disembodied; there was no physical source around him that it came from. It sent a chill down his linkage as he reaslised just how messed up this whole situation was. But he had to push all of that aside and find his brother, find the way out, find… well… an answer.
The muck was ankle deep in parts, and it bothered him, he wondered how his brother would be faring in this sludge pit. There was a shrill eeriness to the environment he traversed, deep within the underground world the humans had crafted to satisfy their need for shiny metals or was it coal they dug from these bowels? It was hard to tell. They were like a virus, really, moving from place to place, taking what they needed and leaving nothing and caring little about the native life that lived in balance with the place they claimed.
It had been one of Optimus' concerns when debating whether to share that tech with the humans or even if it was right to take them on their own Autobot shuttles. Spike was one thing, he alone couldn't destroy an entire planet's eco-system, and from what Sideswipe understood, it took two humans to create more humans.
The inane chatter in his CPU kept him company as he trotted through the swill that lay about his feet. The stink was still there, but it still wasn't offensive enough to warrant shutting down his olfactory's. Up ahead there was a light, just a small flicker, he went towards it.
--
Author's NB: I like Roger Whittaker. I'm not ashamed to admit it. But the creepiest thing happened to me once involved his music. I saw this horror movie where a person woke to hear his music and found the entire town empty. Well, one morning I woke up in the student hostel I lived in, to hear his words wafting through the window, there was a slight breeze and of the 104 people who were supposed to be in that hostel, I couldn't find anyone!! It was a Sunday morning, and it was 8am so they were probably all past out somewhere, but I couldn't find out where the music was coming from!!
Anyway, I hand wrote this chapter last night on shift during the only quiet time we had before the horrors of a 6 bed women's room kicked in at about 3am.