PART 2: Daemon


I loved it when we had hamburgers for lunch at school. It meant we got fresh tomato slices. I could always trade my french fries with my friends and get enough tomato slices to make up a whole tomato.

My sister Beatrice said I was weird because I liked tomatoes, but she was one to talk. She was seven years old and still had two imaginary friends. That was just embarrassing.

I was down to my last three french fries, but Matt was refusing to give me his tomato slices unless I added some of my dessert fruit snacks. We were just about to make the trade when our teacher, Ms. Addington, walked up. She had a very serious look and handed me a note.

I unfolded it and silently read, You are in danger, Daemon. Say nothing and come with me – NOW!

Was this about Dad and his work with the aliens? I looked up at her in surprise. She nodded and held out her hand. A little worried, I took it and we started walking toward the big field where we played soccer at recess. Behind us, Matt asked, "What about my fruit snacks?"

Ms. Addington just walked faster.

We got to the fence at the edge of the school grounds, and she scooped me up into her arms.

"Hey!" I protested, but she just hissed, "Sh!" and jumped over the fence. Then she started running forward.

That wasn't right. I tried to wriggle my way free, but she just squeezed me tighter. It didn't make any sense that she could run like that. It didn't make sense that she could jump over a fence, especially when she was carrying somebody.

She jumped over another, shorter fence and ran up to a car with its door open. She tossed me inside and slammed the door closed, shouting in a man's voice, "Go, Wildrider! Go!"

My heart leaped to my throat as the car drove off – with no one behind the wheel!

"Let me out!" I yelled, yanking on the door handle. It didn't budge, and I smacked the window. "Let me out! Let me out!"

A voice from the radio laughed and said, "If I did that, squishy, you'd go squish!"

That freaked me out in a different way, a way that made me go all quiet and scared, and I curled back into my seat.

"It'd be fun to watch," the voice said, "but it'd slag off Shockwave, and that's one mech I don't wanna frag around with."

We screeched around the corner, and the voice in the radio laughed again. "Looks like your guardian's trying to catch us. Good! He's an excuse for mayhem!"

He passed another car and swerved into it, sending it spinning, and I quickly put on my seatbelt.

Car after car, he crashed us into them, and I gripped the armrests so tightly my hands hurt.

Something heavy landed on top of us and I yelled in surprise. It was blue with a metal face and looked me in the eyes through the windshield. "Hold on, Daemon!" he said with Raja's voice, and the car jerked as the blue guy dug his hands into the road to slow us down.

For a few seconds, I thought maybe he'd rescue me but then there was an explosion that made my eyes flinch closed and made my ears ring.

"Yeah-hoo!" the radio happily yelled. "Take that, you fragging Autobot! Forget the Well, it's the Pit for you!"

The metal guy with Raja's voice had been trying to help me, and he was gone – blown up. My whole face went cold.

We screeched our way around a bunch of corners, dodging whoever was following us, until we jerked to a stop for no reason. My seatbelt came off, the door beside me opened, and my seat dumped me on the ground. Then my kidnapper of a car drove off.

I sat on the pavement blinking, trying to understand what was happening, when another metal giant appeared out of nowhere, grabbed me, and did something that made me feel like a smooshed piece of Playdough for a split second. Then we were way up in the air, the robot holding me was flying, and a jet swooped in close with its cockpit open. The guy holding me dropped me into the seat of the jet, the cockpit closed over me, and we shot straight up into the sky.

I kinda screamed, and some speakers in the jet shouted, "Buckle yourself in, fleshling! I'm not scraping you off my glass. Silence your vocalizers and, so help me, if you leak lubricant all over my interior, I'll eject you, I don't care what Shockwave says."

I didn't understand a lot of that, but I shut my mouth and started to buckle myself in. These weren't like car seatbelts, but after a few seconds, the straps kind of took care of themselves. I took a deep breath and looked around a bit. It was getting darker. "Where are we going?" I craned my neck but I couldn't see anything but up or straight ahead. "Are we in outer space?"

"We're still in the middle atmosphere," the speakers answered. "It'll be a bit before we make it to space, and that's assuming your kind value you enough to not shoot us both out of the sky."

I swallowed hard at that. I wasn't anybody important. I mean, I was Sam Witwicky's son, so I guess a few important people knew my family, but it wasn't like anybody important actually knew me.

I glanced at my fitness watch – it was a little after one o'clock. Did anyone notice yet that I was missing? Would they shoot me down? I shifted uneasily in my seat but didn't dare say anything.

After a while, the sky got even darker and the stars shone brighter than they did even on Diego Garcia. I fidgeted in the silent cockpit.

Eventually, the voice in the speakers said, "We're clear of those satellites. Guess you're useful enough to 'em to be worth my life. By your feet there's a survival suit. Take off that worthless fabric armor you call clothes and put that on instead."

"All my clothes?" I asked, feeling pretty shy about it.

"Only if you want to survive," the speaker answered, sounding like he really didn't care one way or the other.

I wanted to survive, I was sure of that. The thought sank in and became the most-important thing right now. Survive. I changed as quickly as I could. It wasn't like any clothing I'd ever seen before – I had to crawl in through the top, but it was really stretchy, so I was able to make it work even though it had a big, round, stiff collar. It also had built-in boots, gloves that were attached to the sleeve-cuffs, and no zipper at all. Something thumped onto the floor when I pulled on the suit, and once I had it on, I fumbled around for whatever I'd dropped. By the light of the stars, I could see it was a padded lap desk, a thick Tonka Trucks coloring book, and a big package of Crayons.

"Seriously?" I demanded.

"Yeah, Shockwave wanted you to see that he's a reasonable mech who will do nice things for you if you cooperate."

This was supposed to be a nice thing? Like I should be so grateful for a toddler's coloring book? But it was weirdly kind, considering they'd freaking kidnapped me and taken me all the way into outer space. I mean, they didn't have to get me anything. Or it could have been My Little Pony.

Up until now I'd just been trying to keep up with what was happening around me. I needed to start using my head, as Uncle Optimus would say. On the inside cover of the coloring book, I wrote in a column, "Who? What? When? Where? Why? How?"

Then I began with the first question. "Who's… what did you call him? Shockwave?" I asked.

"He's the third-in-command of the Decepticons, so you'd better be polite to him, got it? None of the back-talk you've given me or Wildrider. He won't be so tolerant."

Decepticons? "Are you guys the aliens who are trying to create a new country on Earth?"

The speakers barked out a laugh. "Seriously? Optimus is trying to get the Autobots to join you squishies?"

He knew Uncle Optimus? I mean, there couldn't be too many guys with that name.

Laughing a few more times, he said, "Naw, we're not here to join you. We're here to crush the Autobots."

I thought about that hard and wrote "Autobots = aliens on Earth" and then asked, "So what did you say your group is called?"

"Decepticons. Megatron's in charge, then Starscream, then Shockwave. Got it?"

I hurriedly wrote that all down. "Got it." Looking over my list of questions, I realized "where" was probably the one I needed an answer to next. But first… "What about you? What's your name?"

"Dirge. I'm Shockwave's Air Commander."

I jotted his name under Shockwave's. "So where are we going, Mr. Dirge?"

"Mars. We've got a job for you to do there for us, Daemon. Treat us right, and we'll treat you right."

"A job…for me?" What would aliens who could fly all the way to Mars need me to do?

"That's right. Shockwave says you're the son of a Prime and that it stands to reason you'll be one, too, and so Shockwave's going to have you perform a Prime's function. If you're a real Prime, you'll do it because that's what Primes do."

I blinked for a second and next to "What?" I wrote "Prime's function." To Dirge, I asked, "What's a Prime's function?"

He made a disgusted sound. "Shockwave will tell you what he needs when we get there."

I looked over my list again. "When will we get there?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?"

"I'm a kid, so yeah, pretty much."

He huffed. "Two more days. Now shut up and apply that pigment."

Did he just tell me to start coloring? I sighed and, with nothing better to do, pulled out a blue Crayon.

The drawings were easy to color, even in the dim lighting. (Besides the stars, there was light from all the buttons on the consoles.) It wasn't until I'd done most of the first page that it really started to sink in for me. I'd been kidnapped by aliens. It should have sounded cool, but after seeing the guy with Raja's voice get blown up, I knew this wasn't a game or a story with a guaranteed happy ending.

I was coloring pictures of trucks because I literally had nothing else I could do. I didn't know how to fight back, and even if I did, I was in freaking outer space. Anything I did would probably get me killed. I couldn't even write a note in the hopes that Mom and Dad would find it someday because – Hello! Outer space! Like these… I flipped the page so I could read the front cover again. Decepticons. Like these Decepticons would give a note to my parents for me.

I colored two drawings and, when I flipped the page, the next one showed a truck pulling a motorboat out of a lake. I suddenly realized how long it had been since I'd gone to the bathroom. No way could I hold it, and it wasn't like we could pull over behind a convenient bush or anything.

Maybe they didn't plan for this? I mean, if they were the robot aliens we learned about a few weeks back, they probably didn't even know what a bathroom was for. What about food? Oxygen?

I glanced at my watch, and it said it was after three o'clock.

"Why aren't you making art?" Dirge demanded.

"I, um, well… I need to use the bathroom, sir." I added on that last bit trying to sound polite.

"Oh," he said, like it was no big deal, "that's what your suit is for."

"What?"

"It's a survival suit. We figured out pretty quick that it'd be a pain in the aft to haul all the water you would need, so Shockwave had Soundwave help him design it. It recycles your fluids and it'll keep you safe and warm. It'll recycle some of your air and even has some on-board oxygen you could use in a pinch. Shockwave thought of everything. He's like your Batman."

"You know who Batman is?"

"Just...never mind. If you need to leak something, then leak it. The suit will take care of everything, now that you're wearing it."

Curious and a little grossed out, I asked, "What about...number two?"

"Solid waste?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"The suit's designed for that, too. You carry too many pathogens around in your gut for convenient recycling, but it's so easy to clean out the waste tanks that even you can do it. See? He's thought of everything. You're getting the royal treatment. You owe it to Shockwave to cooperate, with all the trouble he's going to for you."

"What about food?" I asked.

"In ten minutes, I'm authorized to give you an after-school snack. You'll get three meals and three snacks every day."

"I'm not hungry," I said, and it was true. They had thought of everything. I wasn't going home.

They'd planned this.

They'd planned for me to never see my parents again.

Holy crap – I was never going to see my family again!

Why were they doing this to me? Was I going to be some kind of pet to them? Would they hurt me? They hadn't so far, but…

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I flipped back to the inside cover of the coloring book. Prime's function. Dirge was willing to answer a lot of questions, but that wasn't one of them. What did a Prime even do? Something awful, if this Shockwave was trying so hard to be nice about asking me to do it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowed down the weird strangeness of the whole day, and like Dirge said, leaked what needed to leak. Surprisingly, the suit stayed dry.

I was kind of panicking, and I knew it wouldn't do me any good to panic. I tried breathing through my nose like they taught us during the meditation part of P.E. and it helped enough that I could go back to coloring the drawing of the truck by the lake. I started to make the truck green like Hound's Jeep, but that made my eyes sting and a tightness squeeze my heart, so I made it red instead. And I tried to not think about how there aren't any lakes on Mars.

Before I finished coloring that page, there was a mechanical sound beside me, and a control panel slid aside like a door. Behind it was a package of trail mix. "Time for your snack," Dirge said.

I wasn't hungry, but I didn't want to upset him, so I opened the trail mix and started picking out the raisins and peanuts. Then I ate the sunflower seeds and then finally the M&M's. Chocolate was always a little too sweet for me (I agreed with Mom that dark chocolate was way better), and I needed something to wash it down. "Um…Mr. Dirge, sir?" I asked.

"What?"

"Could I have a drink of water?"

"Sure. The reusable water pouch is on the right side of your survival suit."

I felt around a bit but couldn't find what he meant. With something between a groan and a whine, Dirge made one of his buttons extra bright. "See that? No, look at the suit, I'm pointing with the light. THAT!" he exclaimed when I touched what looked like a stuffed-full pocket. "Pull it out – you won't won't need to disconnect the line, the retractable tube's more than a meter long – and you just twist the nozzle to separate it from the rest of the suit."

The gloves on the suit made it harder, and Dirge finally growled, "Just take the fragging gauntlets off!"

I quickly pulled them off and twisted the metal doohickey on the tubing. It disconnected, and I pulled my water pouch free. By that point, my mouth was really dry and I took a drink but almost spit it right back out.

"Don't do it!" Dirge snapped, probably seeing me react.

With effort I swallowed it down and then said, "It's warm."

"What did you expect? It only left your body a little bit ago."

"I'M DRINKING MY OWN PEE?!"

"Well yeah," he said, "that's how water works on your world. I saw the report from Soundwave. In hundreds of millions of years of you organics being on Earth, the water has probably been ingested and expelled lots of times. Especially water that's not in the oceans. Recycling water is natural, as far as Earth goes."

Really not. At least, not this way. I shuddered and reconnected the water pouch to my suit. If this really was all I had to drink, I'd better hang on to it, even though the thought of drinking more of it made me a little sick to my stomach.

With nothing better to do, I started coloring again.

I was about a third of the way through the coloring book when I just couldn't do it anymore. It was boring. But thinking about where I was and why was terrifying and trying to think about anything else was just not going to happen.

I wanted to stretch my legs and walk around, but there wasn't any room. I stretched as best I could sitting down instead. It helped distract me for a little bit, but only for a few minutes.

I was thirsty still, but the thought of drinking my own pee was just…gross. Though now that I'd had some time to calm down, I realized it didn't taste bad. It didn't taste like anything, really, which I guess is what water is supposed to taste like. I wouldn't have guessed there was anything wrong with it except it was so warm. Maybe I could solve that problem. After all, it wasn't exactly warm in Dirge's cockpit. To keep my fingers warm enough to use the crayons, I had to wear my gloves most of the time. I felt around until I found the water pouch again. Pulling it away from my body, I set it on the console beside me.

"What are you doing?" Dirge demanded.

"The water temperature is too gross to drink," I said. "I pulled the pouch out to cool it down."

"Put it back. I don't want it touching me."

"Do you want me to get dehydrated and pass out?" I said, suddenly frustrated with being kidnapped, with coloring for hours on end, with only being given disgusting water. "It's so warm it's gross!"

The front of the cockpit lifted a smidge, and a helmet built into my suit snapped closed, making me jump. He was going to eject me! I grabbed at the seat belts and clung to them. After just a few seconds, though, he closed it again. Still I held onto the seat belts so tightly my hands were starting to ache. After a minute or so, my helmet opened again, retracting into my collar.

"There," he said, sounding grouchy still. "It's cold now."

I poked at the pouch where it sat on the console, and it made a cracking sound as it gave, like there was a layer of ice inside that I just broke.

"Now get it off me," he growled.

It took a second for me to convince both my hands to let go of the seat belts, but I picked up the water pouch and shook it. I could hear the ice sloshing around inside, which was both terrifying and kind of awesome. I mean, this was space-cooled water now!

"Thank you?" I shakily said.

Dirge grunted in answer but somehow it didn't seem like an angry grunt.

Pulling off my gloves, I opened the pouch and took another swig from it. This time it was cold enough to almost give me a brain freeze, and it in no way reminded me of pee. I also suddenly realized just how good this survival suit was. I had cooled down a little, but I wasn't chilled after being exposed to outer space, even though the water had already started to form ice.

"Thank you, sir," I quietly repeated, connecting the pouch to my suit again. Then I pulled on my gloves, and picked up the coloring book from where it had blown halfway up the console.

"If you're expecting me to say 'you're welcome,' it ain't gonna happen."

"That's okay," I said, still a little shaken by the whole thing. "I just wanted you to know I'm grateful for real."

He grunted again and then got quiet.

I picked up my Crayon and again pretended like the coloring book was interesting. My life might depend on it, and I was determined to survive this.

Neither of us said anything else for a long time. Another weird sound came from the console beside me and the panel opened up again. This time it was a little drink can, a snack-box of raisins, and a granola bar. I picked up the can and squinted at it in the dim light. It wasn't soda or juice. Instead it said something about "complete nutrition" on it. "What's this?" I asked, adding, "Sir?" to make sure I sounded respectful.

"It's a meal replacement shake," Dirge answered, sounding almost like he was proud. "It wasn't on Soundwave's shopping list, but Wildrider discovered it in the pharmacy area while looking for vitamins for you."

"Wait. You guys actually went shopping? Like in an actual store?"

"That's where you humans get your food, isn't it?" Dirge said. "Where else would we go? A farm?"

"No, I meant…" Then I remembered that cockpit dome lifting and decided it wasn't worth getting him angry by pointing out he could have used curbside service like Hound and Breaker did all the time. "Never mind. I was just kind of surprised you guys would do that for me."

"Like I said, we planned this all out. That single can is optimal nutrition. It even says so on the label."

"That's not what Mom would say," I muttered, suddenly remembering her and Annabelle happily cooking in the kitchen.

Sounding grouchy again, Dirge said, "Yeah, well, your mom's not here."

I couldn't help it then. I got a lump in my throat and my eyes started swimming with tears and I gulped air like someone had punched me in the gut.

"If you start leaking lubricant everywhere, I will eject you!" Dirge threatened.

Grabbing my shirt from the floor, I held it over my eyes and sobbed. What were Mom and Dad doing right now? What about 'Trice and Annabelle? Were they eating dinner? Were they trying to find me? Did they know I wasn't on Earth anymore? Would they try to get me back? Could they even try to get me back?

I cried until my shirt was wet and I was completely worn out. Then I blew my nose on my shirt because apparently my kidnappers thought about super space suits that recycled water but forgot to pack Kleenex.

"You done?" Dirge asked, grumpy still.

"Yeah." I couldn't even bring myself to add 'sir.'

"Eat your dinner."

I grabbed the granola bar and ate it, but I didn't really taste it. My heart hurt too much. Then I ate the raisins and washed them down with the shake (though it was way too nasty to deserve the name 'shake') and curled up in the seat as best I could with my knees against my chest.

"You're not supposed to go to sleep for another two hours," Dirge said.

"I'm tired," I answered.

"Fine by me," he said, like he didn't care at all.

And when I got right down to it, I realized he probably didn't.

I jumped awake and looked around me in confusion. Was this the dream or the reality? I stretched a little, and my muscles were sore, so I figured it was reality. I'd been reliving in my dreams the whole part where the Ms. Addison look-alike kidnapped me.

"You're not supposed to be awake," Dirge said.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Depends. At that Autobot tower in Washington, DC, it's a little after 2:00 AM. But your parents made it to New Archon despite Starscream's best efforts, and it's 6:00 PM there." Dirge chuckled. "Starscream's still smarting from that, and he will be for a while. Serves him right. He was trying to one-up Shockwave by taking your male creator captive but there's a reason I chose to serve under Shockwave. He's canny, that one. Smart. Starscream doesn't stand a chance if Shockwave decides he wants to be Megatron's second-in-command. It's almost spooky how fragging accurate he is in his predictions and he knew you'd be the easier one to catch."

Well, this Shockwave guy was right about that, as much as I hated to admit it. "What about 'Trice?"

"Who?"

"My sister. You said my parents made it to that one place. Do you know if my sister was with them? Or Annabelle?"

"No idea. Optimus, Bumblebee, Tracks, Trailbreaker, and Bluestreak were all sighted during Starscream's pathetic attack, so what do you think?"

Wherever Breaker went, Hound was close by. And Tracks and Annabelle were always together. But Uncle Optimus was with them, too?

"Well?" Dirge demanded. "I gave you some juicy intel. Now it's your turn."

"Oh. Um, yeah, I think Annabelle and 'Trice were probably with them, too. Breaker and Hound are bodyguards for me and 'Trice. And Annabelle and Tracks are boyfriend and girlfriend."

"WHAT?!"

I grabbed for the seatbelts in case he tried to eject me again. I didn't know what I'd said that made him angry, but I couldn't shake the horrible mental image of me tumbling forever through space.

"Calm down, human, and answer the question."

Swallowing hard once, I asked, "Um…what's the question exactly? Sir?"

"Is Tracks really allowing himself to be courted by a human?"

"I guess? I mean, she introduces him as her boyfriend to everybody and he doesn't deny it, so…maybe?"

Dirge's laughter filled the cockpit, and it was more than a little creepy. Eventually he settled down and asked, "Track's girlfriend – what was her name again?"

"Annabelle. Annabelle Lennox."

"Lennox?" he said, almost like he was choking. "Is she kin to the Will Lennox?"

I didn't know what "kin" meant, but I guessed he was asking if they were related, so I admitted, "Her dad's name is Will Lennox, yeah."

That made him laugh even harder, and this time when he quieted down, he started making some weird beeps and other sounds.

"Shockwave's fragged off that you're not sleeping," Dirge eventually said.

"Um…okay. I'll try to fall asleep again," I said.

But I kept thinking about what Dirge had said, about how Mom and Dad (and probably 'Trice and Annabelle and everyone else) had gotten to someplace safe. As hard as it was for me to be away from them like this, at least I knew they were safe. I clung to that idea, that they were in a deep bunker or something where no one could ever hurt them or take them away like Dirge and the other Decepti-somethings did to me.

I tried to imagine myself with them, but I knew this whole kidnapping was too real. I might never see them again. But at least I knew they were safe.

Unexpectedly, I wondered how 'Trice was handling it all. This Starscream guy attacked them on their way to the safe place? Did she freak out? Did she get hurt along the way? Did she miss me?

Because I really missed her.

If you had told me this morning that I'd cry over being away from my sister, I'd have said you were crazy. But I cried then, curled up on that pilot seat. I again held my shirt to my face, and it still smelled a little like laundry detergent – like home. I breathed in that scent over and over until I could finally fall asleep.