Chapter 6

"This is penance," Knock Out said hoarsely, "for my sins."

Ultra Magnus didn't know if he was talking about their current effort in tilting the slab of metal that had supported the cot, or simply his general misery. Magnus had a processor ache, but Knock Out moved with the jerky, uncoordinated movements of one whose systems were constantly recalibrating. Such was the price of getting over-energized.

"On three," Magnus said. "One. Two. Three." They both hefted upwards, angling the slab so that the acid rain that had gathered on it poured off into the soil. The other puddles had quickly sunk into the sand once it stopped raining.

The morning sun wasn't visible from where they were, but the circle of sky they could see above them was light and free of clouds. The sandy walls were less reassuring; the erosion caused by the rainfall had undercut some of them, and occasionally causing sand to collapse in a miniature landslide. So far they had been small enough to merely be nuisances. So far.

Ultra Magnus folded up Knock Out's tarp and cot and placed them beside the supply packs as he took all the remaining energon packs out and counted them. After some thought, he put all the mid-grade in Knock Out's pack, buttressed by just a few packs of high grade. The rest of the high grade he kept for himself. Knock Out was right; one couldn't get up to much foolishness while stuck in a pit.

"Don't drink too much, Commander." Knock Out was watching him. "Too much and you'll say things you don't mean."

"Or that you do," Ultra Magnus said.

Knock Out didn't answer.

Knock Out hesitated, his pede hovering over Ultra Magnus' cupped hands. "You'll still be at the bottom of a funnel."

"Yes."

"And it may be days before I can comm base."

"I'm aware, Knock Out."

"Don't suppose you'd sign a form saying your imminent demise wasn't my doing, sir?" Knock Out said lightly.

Magnus just looked at him.

"Well," Knock Out said, finally rested his foot in the kneeling Second-in-Command's hands. "I just thought I'd ask."

Ultra Magnus braced himself, heaved upright, and catapulted the smaller mech upward. Knock Out still had to scramble to pull himself over the rim. He sat to rest for a moment, looking around.

"The rain uncovered some new metal." Knock Out rapped against ground that was just out of sight, a metallic sound accompanying the action. "Hmm . . . There's a little crevice. I wonder if I . . ." He reached over his shoulder, extended his staff, and jammed it into the ground.

"That won't hold my weight," Ultra Magnus said impatiently. "Not all of us are sports cars."

"No, you're right," Knock Out reluctantly agreed. "It would snap in half." In a quieter murmur he added, "Or into pieces."

He stared at the staff, then leaned to peer down into the pit. His optics flitted from Ultra Magnus to the large backpack resting on the cot, then back to the staff.

"I know how to get you out." Knock Out sat there a minute, waiting for a response. "Did you hear me, Commander? I know how to get you out of the pit."

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge, skeptical. "How?"

"If you go into stasis lock . . . "

Ultra Magnus' optics narrowed. He would have been plenty suspicious of a plan involving stasis lock without Knock Out's evasive tone and refusal to meet his eyes.

"Yes? If I go into stasis lock? Explain to me what, exactly, your plan consists of, soldier."

"I'm not a soldier!" His voice rose as he snapped, then lowered. "Your frame will be limp. That will make it easier to pull you up."

"First, we already know you are not strong enough to lift me. Second, if I am unconscious I will be unable to assist by climbing as you pull."

"Y-eees," Knock Out said, hunching forward a little, and again there was something not entirely forthright about his body language. "But . . . well . . . it might work. It's worth a try, isn't it?"

Ultra Magnus was silent. He was at the bottom of a pit in the middle of nowhere. Even in the best circumstances it would take days for help to arrive. What harm could a few minutes of stasis do? "I suppose there would be no harm in powering down for—"

"—about half a day," Knock Out broke in. Magnus lifted his helm sharply, his stare strong enough to make the red mech flinch. The Decepticon dug his claws into the sand where he was seated, sending a few granules skittering down.

"Trust me," he said. There was mockery in his voice, and hopelessness.

Ultra Magnus picked his cot up and set it on the slab of metal resting on the ground.

"Very well," he said, lying back. The last thing he saw, as he sank into unconsciousness, were two black and red eyes widening in shock.