Livewire: Chapter 5
The quiet hum of machinery and the crackling of electrical equipment greeted Livewire's audio receptors as her systems sluggishly onlined in the same manor she had awoken for the first time her new body, only without the mental confusion that was now replaced with a lingering tightness in her chest. Her optics onlined, glowing against the sheets wrapped around her and she relished in the calm silence until a slow tapping that only four legs walking across steel could make. The sheets fell away as her head shot into the air and her ears swiveled forwards as she stared at the crack between the half open door to the closet. The footsteps paused then started up again until a slanted, glowing blue optic stared at her through the slit. She froze and stared back at a slice of a feral looking muzzle complete with metallic fangs. After a few minutes it pulled away and walked past the door, giving her a glance of its thick golden body and trailing tail. Her ventilation systems seized and her audios strained to listen to the creatures movements until they halted and the room feel silent again.
Livewire rose from her nest of sheets to poke her head outside and was surprised to see the backs of two Autobots sitting at the monitors that were now filled with various images like a surveying security system. At their feet sat a four legged 'bot that had a striking likeness to a lion staring back at her.
"The new comer is online," the lions voice came out gruff, his optics never leaving her.
Livewire stepped all the way out and a red and yellow Autobot slung an arm over the back of his chair and turned halfway around to look at her with a broad smile on his face plates.
"Hellooo sleeping beauty," he said in a sing-song way.
The Autobot next to him jumped out of his seat and whirled to face her with intense blue optics and a panicked look. "When did it get up? I didn't hear it. I thought it was dead. Get that thing out of here!"
"Whoa, whoa, chill Red Alert. She's one of us."
"I do not chill, and it was something Wheeljack concocted. I am not going to trust that thing in the security room. I agreed it could stay until it woke up because pulling it out of its weird stasis could have triggered a violent reaction."
Livewire finally spoke up. "So? What do you have against him?" She was thought it was unfair how everyone was talking badly about Wheeljack behind his back.
"Not much," the unnamed Autobot said.
"His contraptions have a habit of blowing up or otherwise malfunctioning dangerously," the golden lion groused.
The lion creature was much smaller than her and far bulkier. There was a stern air about him that polarized the Autobot slumped casually in the chair next to him. "I haven't seen him blow anything up," she defended.
"Not yet. You haven't been around that long. Wait another day he'll probably blow up half the base leaving a gaping hole in our defenses." Red Alert's face was pinched together and he sounded like he was predicting a giant storm in the same fashion as a meteorologist. "There's a high probability you could fritz out or blow up at any minute and become a safety risk so I would appreciate it if you would leave."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was more offended by their lack of confidence in Wheeljack than Red Alert's accusation of her being a ticking time bomb. Nothing had suggested she could explode at any moment.
The other Autobot frowned and the lion piqued in before she could decide how to prove him wrong. "You don't have to worry. She smells sweet, not sour or burnt. My nose never lies."
"Um…thanks?" She thought it was a complement, but she wasn't sure.
"You can trust Steeljaw. He can smell if something is trouble a mile away." The red and yellow Autobot patted the lion on the head and Steeljaw lifted his snout into the air and his optics dimmed at the touch.
"Blaster…" Red Alert practically wined, but didn't elaborate as he shot her a worried look and turned back to his computer. "Just make sure it doesn't try to offline me when I'm not looking."
"Will do, Red."
Livewire walked over to Steeljaw and gave Blaster a nervous glance before addressing the lion. "Are you also a drone Wheeljack made?"
He scoffed. "How rude. No, I'm a cassette. I have a proper spark."
Her tail fell between her legs. "Oh. What's a cassette?"
"My pals." Blaster tapped against his glass covered chest. "Cassettes are formed when I take a small piece of my spark and insert it into a shell. That piece develops its own personality and becomes an invaluable partner. It's mostly a lost art since few are willing to take the risk it involves."
"For good reason," Red Alert interrupted. "It's incredibly dangerous to hack away parts of a spark and put them into smaller bodies that could potentially get destroyed. The pain alone of extracting spark shards could offline the strongest Autobot."
Livewire felt she was missing something important. "What exactly is a spark?"
A silence fell over the room and her ears twitched nervously. She wondered if she had said something wrong. "I hear it mentioned a lot…"
Blaster rubbed the back of his helm and chuckled. "Well, it's kind of hard to explain. I don't know if I would be the best 'bot to ask."
She glanced at Red Alert who turned around to avoid her gaze. "Don't look at me."
"You should ask your creators. It would be more appropriate if they told you." Steeljaw offered.
She looked between the three Autobots and felt the faint tightness that was becoming persistent in her chest increase. "Creators?"
"The ones who built you."
A small light bulb went on her head. Steeljaw meant Wheejack and Perceptor.
"Perceptor was looking for you earlier. I told him you were crashed out here and not to worry. You could go and ask him now. Last time I checked he was in his lab." Blaster pointed to one of the screens that had what looked like a layout of the base and dozens of moving dots and he traced their position to Perceptor's.
She couldn't help but feel unsettled. "Do you spy on everyone all of the time?"
"I wish. If it were possible to keep visual tabs on everyone at all times I would be able to spot something going wrong at a seconds notice. The only cameras I'm allowed survey the main halls and communal rooms plus some of the outside. The rest of the crew are traced through their signatures so I know where they are at all times." Red Alert scolded an unseen entity for ruining his dream.
"Do you have a tracer on me?" Livewire was afraid to hear the answer.
"You know what? No! I need to. Come here and I'll register your sig-wait, that won't work. Primus, why me."
She started to back slowly away from the Autobot. "It was nice chatting with you guys. I think I'll go and find Perceptor now." She left the room at a fast pace, wanting to put as much distance between her and Red Alert's tracking systems as possible. He was probably staring at her right now through his monitor plotting a way to put at tracker on her. Over her dead body. There was a reason she had always set program securities to max and regularly deleted cookies on her old computer.
The map she had seen on the monitor was at her fingertips in vivid detail like a photographic memory, something she wasn't used to having. She followed its instructions in her mind's eye and found Perceptor's lab. Her first thought was it was just going to be the same workshop she lived in with Wheeljack. It turned out Perceptor had his own space. She walked into the spectacularly clean room full of alien instruments, computers, and a ridiculously giant red telescope aimed at a petri dish.
There wasn't any sight of Perceptor so she called out, "Hello?"
She was about to see if there was an offshoot room when the telescope broke apart and unfolded into Perceptor himself. "Ah, there you are."
Livewire was stunned into silence. It was becoming clear that the Autobots didn't just turn into cars, but all sorts of unusual things. It made her feel a little less out of place even if she couldn't transform herself.
"I'm analyzing a sample of alcanivorax borkumensis to see if it can naturally convert oil into energon. Want to take a look?"
"Sure…" Livewire's head went blank half way through whatever he was talking about.
Perceptor transformed back into a telescope and zoomed into the tiny petri dish. Livewire curiously approached and had to jump onto her hind legs and brace against Perceptor to peer through the scope. What she saw were intensely magnified rod shaped microbes floating around by their flagella. They surrounded tiny orbs of a black substances Livewire guessed was oil and she could see the faintest glow of pink emitting from the oil that had been surrounded. She jumped down and backed away for Perceptor to transform.
"So far they haven't been able to do much on their own. I've manipulated the bacteria's internal coding, but all it does is degrade the alkaline in the oil faster. I also tried adding a rapidly multiplying synthetic bacteria and that seemed to work until it did start producing miniscule amounts of energon, but the caustic nature of the energon started eating through the thin walls of the organic bacteria because of its gram-negative properties. I'm afraid I'm back to square one."
He cradled his chin in his hand thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling. Livewire felt like her head was going to explode. She knew human computer programing, not organic chemistry or biotechnology.
"That's neat…"
"Isn't it? I've seen all kinds of bacteria, but never one quite like this. Well, I might have, but I've never had to use fossil fuels to create energon until coming to this planet. It's quite interesting."
"I was told you wanted to see me?"
Perceptor easily switched to her train of thought. "Yes, I asked Blaster to send you my way when you finished your recharge cycle. He was quite surprised to find you in the supply closet of the security room. I would advise you find a different place next time, Red Alert doesn't take kindly to surprises."
"I hadn't noticed." She mumbled.
"I would very much like to run a diagnostic of your EMP generator since the time you used it in the training room was the first time it had been officially tested. I need to make sure nothing melted from the superheated electricity."
Livewire resigned herself to being poked and prodded by the curious scientist. He had her hooked up to a machine that supposedly checked her body for internal damage while he peeled away armor to check the delicate vents and machinery underneath. They were both quiet as he meticulously worked, checking over each wire that was connected to the EMP generator and sweeping a sort of instant X-ray machine over them.
Eventually, Livewire worked up the courage to speak. "What is a spark?"
Perceptor paused and her fuel pump accelerated. What if he got all quiet and ominous like the others? Would she be in trouble for asking?
"This is quite sudden, but it's something you should know about."
He placed his X-Ray down and unhooked her from the machine. "What brought this up?"
Livewire took a deep breath of cool air. It didn't have the same calming effect it used it, but it helped. "Blaster was talking about how he tore out chunks of his spark to create mini-me's and I've heard it mentioned several other times. I asked him what it was and he told me to ask you."
Perceptor looked puzzled for a moment. "I'm not sure why he didn't just tell you. Creating cassettes requires an immense knowledge of how the spark works. Ah well. Sit down and I shall tell you."
Livewire sat on her haunches had a sneaking suspicion this was going to be a lot to swallow.
"A spark is what gives a Cybertronian life," Perceptor began. "It consist of our personality and is in essence our soul and physical heart in one. Without it we are nothing but hollow shells of machinery. When a spark dies, so does the 'bot. To protect itself the spark grows a glass like casing that is harder than steel, yet still fragile to cannon fire. This is the reason there is so much armor placed around the midsection."
Livewire looked where he was pointing at his chest and had to agree that everyone she had seen were equipped with rather large chests that looked painful to run into. He traced an invisible circle around an area at the lower part of his chest to indicate his spark's placement.
"Now, sparks are mysterious things. There have been many scientific studies on his its workings, but much of it is still unexplained and up for interpretation. Their source, Vector Sigma, is where they originate. When a new spark is wanted a shell is presented to the sacred relic and it may or may not grant a spark. It's a wonder how it decides which ones to spark. When it does decide to create one it clones a miniscule part from one or more Cybertronians presenting the shell and fuses it into one new spark and gives the shell life."
Livewire wanted to make sure she was getting this right. "So this thing magically makes babies?"
"I wouldn't say magic. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation behind it, we just haven't figured it out yet, and may never get the chance. Vector Sigma was lost at the beginning of the war."
So that meant they were sterile, or something close to that. It sounded like there were different methods like Blaster's spark splitting, but she suspected it was frowned upon due to Red Alert's reaction.
"Something equally as baffling to scientists for millennia's is the workings of bonds which is when certain sparks have a special connection to other sparks. There are different kinds: guardian, the most common; twin, the rarest; siblings from the same person or persons making more than one spark; and bonding, the most sacred and intimate kind.
"I'm only scratching the surface of the intricacies of the spark. A mech can spend millions of years studying them and still not fully understand how they work, but those are the bases. If you wish to know more I can provide scientific readings."
Livewire understood a little of what he was explaining. "Do I have a spark?"
Perceptor's smile fell and he went quiet. "No. like I said, Vector Sigma was lost long ago and you weren't built with a synthetic spark. You are classified as a drone driven by pure programing."
Livewire looked off to the side and a rush of something close to adrenaline coursed through her lines.
"That doesn't mean you would be treated as a lesser being, but you won't be expected to understand certain things. Drones used to be considered beneath Cybertronians until the ruling of Hexus versus Penlatch gave them nearly all of the same rights of natural citizens."
Livewire went still and she looked him directly in the optic. "What if I told you I used to be human?"
His mouth hung open. "That's impossible. Did you download something off the internet and accidentally add it to your core memories?"
She frowned at him. "I haven't been able to get on the internet since I woke up. Like this."
"Woke up?"
"I remember dying. I was hit by a semi-truck running a red light on my way home from work. It hurt like fuck and it was lights out before I knew what was going on. The next thing I know I'm waking up on a lab table in this body and staring at both of you and Wheeljack poking at me like a lab rat."
Perceptor chuckled uncertainly. "That can't happen. You're saying you were a different species that came back to life in a drone?"
Livewire nodded and was disturbed by the contorted emotions playing out on Perceptor's face.
"I think-I think."
A loud pop sounded through the room, Perceptor's optics went fuzzy before completely offlining, and he fell over into a dead heap. Livewire sprung to her paws and nudged his hand, helm, and anything she could. "What just happened? Did you die? I'm not taking responsibility for this. Wake up!"
"Hey, I was thinking about the radiator part you mentioned when-"
"I didn't do it, I swear. He just flopped over and died or something!"
Wheeljack looked at her like she had grown two heads then saw Perceptor lying comatose on the ground. He walked over and curiously examined the downed scientist while Livewire watched on, balancing on her toes.
"I didn't do it. I don't know what happened. He just-I don't know-went kaput, fell over like the giant from jack in the bean stalk or the Iron Giant."
Wheeljack waved his hand at her. "Calm down. His logic processor just glitched. What in Primus did you say to him? I haven't seen this happen since…well, I can't even remember. He never glitches."
Livewire felt only partially relieved that she hadn't somehow killed him. "The truth."
"Of?"
She repeated the same thing she told Perceptor and braced for the worst.
"Interesting. Why didn't you mention this before?"
"I don't know. Maybe I thought you would think I was crazy, throw me at the government, or go all mad scientist and dissect me like one of those aliens from District 9."
Wheeljack looked offended. "I wouldn't do any of that, though it might be an idea to figure out how it happened - without the dissecting part, or a little dissecting."
Livewire gave him an unappreciative eye, but felt like an enormous load had been lifted off her shoulders. "I think I've been dead for over a year. The last time I remember anything as a human it was 2012."
"What was your human designation? Maybe I can look into your records and see if there are any clues there."
She felt the panic returning. "I would rather not alert other people to my coming back from the dead."
Perceptor groaned and put a hand over his helm. "What hit me? Are we under attack?"
Wheeljack gave him a hand to help him up and said to her, "That won't be necessary, but if it turns out to be true I will have to tell Prime about it."
"Alert Prime about what?" Perceptor asked again.
"That Livewire used to be a human." Wheeljack replied cheerily.
Perceptor's optics went white and disappeared to black in a burst of static and he sagged back to the floor.
"Whoops," Wheeljack chuckled and lowered the unconscious Autobot back to the ground.
"Why do you have to tell anyone?" It was enough that just he and Perceptor knew. She decided they were smart enough to figure something out without Optimus Prime getting involved.
"Because he is my Prime and I can't hide important things from him." She didn't understand, but if he was going to take her seriously then she wasn't about to argue.
He stood and walked over to one of the computers in the room. "Perceptor can work on repairing his logic circuits. Let's see what we can dig up from the human internet."
Livewire joined him and entrusted him with her personal information as he hovered his fingers over a strange looking panel that responded to his touch like a keyboard. Different websites flashed onto the screen and Wheeljack's fingers flew across the board.
"There's some encryption, but nothing too complicated." A screen popped up with her human face on it. "There we go…Carrie…deceased in a motor vehicle accident on October twenty fourth. Age twenty three." A few more pages popped onto the screen that had documented photographs of the crash site. An over turned eighteen-wheeler and numerous photos of her vehicle smashed in so many places it must have rolled over several times. There was blood seeping from the shattered windows and staining the pavement below. The next shot was an autopsy picture and she had to look away. Gore didn't usually bother her, except when she was looking at her own dead body.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
Wheeljack quickly closed the pages and gave her retreating form a concerned look. She paced as her fuel tank did little flips. She had died. It was finally starting to sink in. She was dead, a ghost or something else. Her original body was shredded, cold and decaying in a grave now. There would be no going back to normal. She would be stuck like this for the rest of her life.
Perceptor rose for a second time, less disoriented and watching her with critical optics.
"Hey," Wheeljack said softly. "Look what I've got." She saw the energon stick in his hand and felt sick all over again. She would never get the chance to eat a hamburger or eat ice cream. She would never feel the itchy feeling of grass when it rubbed against her skin or how soft her bed was.
"Come here." Wheeljack knelt down next and hugged her face to his chest.
"I'm dead," her voice shook with her rattling frame. "I died and there's no way to change back. I'm stuck like this forever." She wanted so badly to cry, but her optics didn't have tear ducts.
"Shh. I believe you. Your human body might be dead, but you're still alive so it's not all bad. We'll figure out something." He looked up at Perceptor who looked decidedly uncomfortable, but he nodded at the engineer's questioning optics.
Perceptor ghosted about the room as Wheeljack held Livewire while she grieved. Images of her short life flashed before her eyes, memories that only someone who lived could remember. Like the first time she made friends, the first time she slipped on the stairs and nearly broke her arm, the day she graduated from High School, the day she decided to get a fish instead of a dog or cat when she took an aquatic class. Her life was over, all of it. She would never be able to do the same things she used to, nor would she experience a future like she had imagined.
Eventually she had nothing left. Her mind and body were exhausted. She didn't need tears and a puffy face to tire herself out. Her chest felt heavy and constricted like an elephant was sitting on it, squeezing the life out of her. The uncontrollable shaking that had overtaken her frame quelled and she weakly tried to back away from Wheeljack. He let go without protest took in her dimmed optics.
"I don't know what to do," she admitted solemnly. There was nowhere to go, her life was in shambles, and she had nothing.
"Sure you do. You pick up the pieces and start over. It's tough, but it can be done."
Livewire shook her head. "I'm not even human anymore. How am I supposed to start over? Where?"
Perceptor appeared next to Wheeljack. "Here." He said simply and laid a hand on her helm. "We brought you here, somehow. I'm not sure if I entirely believe it being possible, but we'll help you find a new path."
She looked up into his soft blue optics and tried to smile or say thank you, but all she could manage was looking back down at the floor and nudging her head further into his palm.