Ch. 8
"Haven't you managed yet?"
"We're getting there, Mr. President."
"Well, hurry up. I want that robot on the line right away!"
"I thought he was an Autobot."
"Same thing, isn't it?"
"I guess so."
Though evening had fallen, President Gilligrass had not left NASA. Far too much was at stake at the moment and he was determined to see he situation through. Arrangements were already being made for him and Ms. Tibbs to stay overnight; already, several of the vacant living quarters had been sealed off for the president's personal use, a five-star Michelin chef had been brought in to make the presidents dinner and the best cat-sitter in Washington had been dispatched to the White House to ensure President Gilligrass's beloved cat Mrs. Taubsypuss was well taken care of until Lancelot could return.
When that return would be, President Gilligrass wasn't sure. Since talking to Optimus Prime and Ratchet, no other communication had come through from Cybertron. True, NASA's doctors had managed to send over a good amount of information, but whether it had been received was anyone's guess.
"Those metallic monsters may be trying to pull a fast one on us, Mr. President," the Head of the Air Force said.
"We should surprise attack them first," the Head of the Army agreed.
"I don't know; they seemed very nice to me," Christopher Calverton replied.
"Hush, young man." Ms. Tibbs glared at Christopher. "Be silent or go stand in the corner."
"I don't work for you," Christopher muttered under his breath as he slouched away from where President Gilligrass was still seated in front of the massive screen. Lancelot ignored him, drumming his fingers against the arms of his chair as he watched the NASA employees frantically type away at keyboards.
"Well? Can any of you reach the robots? I want a word with Optimus Prime right now!"
"I... I think I've got something!" one of the workers toward the front of the room called. "Is anything coming in on the screen?"
Every head turned to look as the screen began to flicker. Silvery static swirled about like snowflakes while a low angry hum echoed through the room.
"Ugh, make that noise stop!"
"Working on it, Mr. President!"
"Well, work faster! For all we know, Shuckworth, Shanks, and Showler could be strapped to some robot operating table with their brains scooped out."
"I...I don't think that medic of theirs would do that."
"Me either. He seemed nice."
"They also don't know how to treat humans, remember?"
"Er, pardon me, Mr. President," Christopher piped up hesitantly, " but Ratchet did say he'd had some experience treating organic creatures. If so, he should have some idea of how to-"
"Probably cutting up some other alien," The Head of the Army declared.
"Huh, pity these Autobots haven't heard of Vermicious Knids. Wouldn't mind seeing one of them cut up!"
"With all due respect, sir, I don't think-"
"I didn't ask you to think, Calverton."
"But-"
"The President didn't ask you to think," Ms. Tibbs snapped. "Now be quiet and let him handle this!"
"Quite right, Nanny!" Lancelot gave a decisive nod as he stared eagerly at the screen. "I think something's coming in. Hopefully, however answers will have the sense to get Optimus Prime to me right away."
"I'm sure the robots will know how important you are," Ms. Tibbs assured him.
The screen continued to flicker, but the static was beginning to clear. President Gilligrass leaned forward eagerly, squinting as he tried to make out what was taking shape before him.
"Is... is that a robot?"
"Autobot, you mean?"
"Whatever. Hey, does whatever's coming through look kinda small to you?"
"Knock-knock."
"Er... who's there Mr. President?"
"Pecan."
"Pecan who, sir?"
"Pecan someone your own size! I don't care if whatever on that screen is big or small, those Autobots are keeping three of our men on their planet!"
"In their Med Bay, sir."
"A Med Bay we haven't seen yet!" the Head of the Army protested.
"Right. That's the oldest trick in the book," the Head of the Air Force agreed. "Bet you anything those metal monster are planning to stuff our men like prized trophies and hang 'em on their walls."
"With all due respect, Optimus Prime seemed very kind and his medic was quite professional. I doubt that-"
"Go stand in the corner!" Ms. Tibbs commanded.
Thankfully for Christopher Calverton, the screen saved him from having to suffer the juvenile punishment. The droning had stopped and the picture was taking shape. There was one last flicker of vibrant colors and then an image appeared. But what was suddenly displayed for everyone in the NASA control room to see was not a robot and not a human. Truth be told, no one could tell exactly what it was they were looking at.
All they could tell was that the creature gazing back at them was downright adorable.
Sitting on a small table the size of a small house, the little creature blinked in mild surprise at the gathered group. Chocolate brown fur covered its streamlined body, cream-colored fur ran from its chin down its stomach, and shining black hair covered its head to brush its shoulders and run across its eyes. Said eyes were large and brown and shining with delight. Its velvety muzzle twitched as its mouth split open in a smile, revealing a mouthful of small sharp teeth the color of pearls. From the side of its head, two long stiff appendages arched toward its shoulders, looking almost like the horns of a ram without the curled tips. The creature waved with a webbed and clawed hand as its heavy tail thumped eagerly against the platform where it sat.
"Hello!" the creature chirped. The voice was that of a cheerful little girl. "You're humans, aren't you?"
"I... I..." President Gilligrass couldn't take his eyes off the furry little creature on the screen. "We... we're... who are you?"
"What are you?" the Head of the Air Force asked.
"Are you an alien?" the Head of the Army spluttered.
"Oh, you're just adorable!" Ms. Tibbs gushed. "Oh, what a little darling."
The creature titled her head, her smile still in place. "Thank you. Are you the humans Bud, Lenny, and Chad work for?"
"She knows about Shuckworth, Showler, and Shanks?" someone asked.
"Clearly."
"I... yes, yes we are from NASA," Christopher Calverton spoke up. "Erm, sorry, we were looking for Optimus Prime and the Autobots."
"Optimus will be back soon; a few others needed his help at the moment. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"Oh, she's so polite." Ms. Tibbs nodded at Lancelot. "Best introduce yourself as well. Make a good impression."
"Er, yes, Nanny." President Gilligrass cleared his throat. "I am President Lancelot R. Gilligrass of the United States of America. Whom am I addressing?"
"I am Miara of the Autobots." The little creature had climbed to her feet and appeared to be using her tail for balance. "It's so nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about your home from Bud and the others."
"Oh, aren't you just a dear," Ms. Tibbs cooed. "My goodness, I had no idea Autobots could be so adorable."
"Er... you said you're an Autobot?" Christopher asked.
"Oh yes. I'm a member of the Autobot faction." Miara tapped her chest and President Gilligrass realized the little creature was wearing a silver vest that was fastened with a small plaque bearing the same sigil Optimus and Ratchet sported. "I'm not a Cybertronian, though. I'm a Teron."
"What's a Teron?" the Head of the Army asked.
"I am!" Miara answered with an even wider smile.
"Obviously!" Lancelot rolled his eyes before turning back to the screen. "Miara?"
"Yes, President Gilligrass?"
"You claim to know Shuckworth, Showler, and Shanks?"
"Bud Shuckworth, Lenny Showler, and Chad Shanks." Miara nodded eagerly. "Yes, they're in the Med Bay."
"Right, well, Optimus said we could talk to them once they woke up. Why haven't we been able to see them yet?"
"Ratchet had to examine them first and he wanted to make sure they had food and water." Miara's smile faltered and her tail curled around her feet as she added,
"They're still in pain from their crash. Chad's having trouble lifting his head."
"What?"
"I told you, Mr. President," the Head of the Army hissed. "Pretty soon, our boys will be strapped down to a table and-"
"Oh no, Ratchet hasn't restrained them." The Head of the Army jumped in surprise at Miara's voice. "He should be sending over a report soon; Optimus asked that Ratchet give Bud, Lenny, and Chad another examination after they ate to see if they needed rest or if they could talk to you. Has it come over yet?"
"I... Calverton, find me that report!"
"Yes, Mr. President." Christopher sighed and went over to check a row of machines that were busy spitting out papers.
"If you don't get to speak to them tonight, you'll be able to do so tomorrow, I'm sure," Miara sad. "I know they're eager to let you know they're alright. And once they're out of Med Bay, we'll be able to send them home."
"Yes, Optimus mentioned that as well. How soon do you think that will be?"
"As soon as we can, Mr. President."
Everyone in the room, President Gilligrass included, jumped as Optimus Prime himself suddenly appeared on screen. The Autobot leader nodded in deference to the startled humans as he leaned down to wrap a gentle hand around Miara. In his other hand, Optimus held out a small glowing object to the little Teron, who accepted it with delight.
"My favorite energon cake!"
"Yes. You enjoy that, Miara. After that, time for recharge."
"Yes, Optimus." Turning back to the screen, the Teron waved at the still-stunned humans. "It was very nice meeting you all. I hope we'll get to talk again soon."
"Yes." As always, President Gilligrass managed to find his voice first and speak for the others. "Yes, it was lovely meeting you as well, Miara."
Optimus held out a hand and Miara settled herself into his palm, already nibbling away at her treat. Optimus stepped briefly out of sight and then returned without the Teron, his blue eyes shining with amusement.
"I see you've met my sparkling."
"Sparkling?"
"What you would refer to as an offspring."
"Off... how?" By this point, President Gilligrass was beginning to feel his head spin with everything he had seen in the span of a few hours. "I thought she said she was a Teron."
"Indeed she is." Optimus fell silent and the soft blue light in his eyes seemed to dim somewhat. "Miara may well be the last Teron in existence."
"What?" Ms. Tibbs gasped. "What happened?"
"The Teron once resided on the planet Holtus. Unfortunately, their entire home world was decimated by a plague that affected not just the Teron people, but their native flora and fauna as well. Those who did not contract the plague faced starvation in a world that was slowly dying. My Autobots and I discovered Holtus by chance during a scouting mission and there we discovered Miara." Optimus paused, his voice heavy. "She was only an infant and we found her next to her recently deceased mother. The only other living member of her family was her grandfather Solero and it was he who begged me to take Miara back to Cybertron."
"Oh my," Mis Tibbs gasped. "Oh, the poor little dear. How awful for her."
"Thankfully, Miara has thrived with us here on Cybertron. Unexpected though it was, I have raised Miara as my own since bringing her here and believe me," Optimus said as his eyes shone once more, "I couldn't be happier nor prouder than to call Miara my sparkling."
"I can't blame you," Ms. Tibbs beamed. "She's adorable and so well-mannered."
"Indeed. Miara let us know that we should have received a report from your medic," President Gilligrass added.
"Has Ratchet sent it to you?" Optimus asked.
"It's right here, Mr. President!" Christopher Calverton came running over, a bundle of papers clutched in his hand. Behind him, two doctors and a nurse were trying their hardest to read the just-printed papers as fast as they could.
"Shanks is having trouble raising his head!"
"Showler's ribs are cracked."
"Shuckworth is bruised harder than a fallen apple." Everyone turned to stare at the nurse, who shrugged and tapped a string of words just above Christopher's thumb. "It says so right here; 'heavy bruising to the helm and chasis, what the humans refer to as their head and chest.'"
"I can confirm that," Optimus said as the President glanced down at Ratchet's report. "Your men are still in great pain and Ratchet is examining them again as we speak. I cannot speak for him, but I would ask that you wait to speak to the men tomorrow. I know." Optimus held up a hand. "Believe me, President Gilligrass, if it were me and some of my Autobots had gone missing, I would be frantic as well. But I assure you, your men are safe and I merely wish for them to recover as quickly as possible."
"Could we at least see them?" Lancelot asked. "Would that be possible?"
"That I can do for you. One astrosecond." Optimus tapped away at his keyboard and the scene on NASA's screen changed. Everyone leaned forward to see what looked like a camera's view of large spacious room with various blinking and beeping machines. Ratchet was standing in the center of the room, his massive form looming over three small beds as he tapped away at a flat device in his hands. The medic glanced down at the beds, nodding in affirmation at whatever he saw on his device. And stretched out on the three beds were-
"Shuckworth! Showler! Shanks!"
The men didn't respond to the president's call. All three of them appeared to be fast asleep with wires attached to their bodies that were connected to three of the beeping machines. Though their bodies were covered, Lancelot could see Shuckworth's head was bandaged as well as the ugly blotches on his face. Showler seemed fine enough, but Shanks's head was propped up on several pillows and his cheek was pressed against the soft material as he slept. Ratchet leaned over him, holding the device over Shanks's head and watching the man closely.
"If he has a concussion, he shouldn't be sleeping," one of the doctors said.
"Does he have a concussion?"
"I'm not sure. We won't know until we examine him."
"I'm pretty sure that robot's got it covered." Indeed, Ratchet looked somewhat relived as he straightened up from Shanks's bedside. The medic was still tapping at his device when the screen flickered back to Optimus Prime.
"Did that alleviate your concerns somewhat, President Gilligrass?"
"Somewhat," Lancelot agreed. "But if Shanks has a concussion, he needs to be woken up."
"Don't worry; Ratchet is monitoring all three of your men very carefully. He has been concerned with the state of their processing units and will alert me if anything raises his concern. I, in turn, will alert you."
"Yes, you do that. And of course, we will need to speak to them tomorrow."
"Of course. I will let you know once they have awakened. In the meantime, is there anything else I can assist you with tonight, President Gilligrass?"
"I think that concludes our business, Optimus Prime." Lancelot made sure he sat straight and tall and kept his voice calm as he addressed the Autobot leader.
"Very well," Optimus inclined his head slightly. "Get some rest, my friends, and I will speak with you tomorrow. Good night."
The picture cut out, leaving only a blank screen on NASA's end. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as everyone traded glances.
"Er... your orders, sir?" Christopher Calvertron asked warily.
"You heard Mr. Prime!" Ms. Tibbs snapped. "It's bedtime. Everyone off to bed this instant!"
"But Miss Vice President, some of us have to work the night shift!"
"Those not working the night shift off to bed this instant! Come on now." Ms. Tibbs patted Lancelot's shoulder. "We have a big day tomorrow!"
Lancelot sighed as he gave the order to retire for the evening. Pity he wasn't on Cybertron; he doubted Autobots were ordered to bed like this!
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"Finished, Little Sandstorm?"
"Yes. Thanks again." Miara grinned at Optimus. "I love those cakes."
"I know you do. And quite frankly, you deserved one for all of your hard work today." Optimus sighed as he made his way over to his recharge berth. "And we could both use a good recharge."
Miara, perched on the side of the berth, watched as the Autobot leader stretched out on the massive slab. Optimus sighed as the berth began to hum beneath him, sending soothing vibrations throughout his metal body. One by one, he began to shut down each of his internal programs, setting the time for all of them to come back online simultaneously. Through half-closed optics, Optimus watched as Miara climbed onto his shoulder and slid down his chasis, coming to a halt right over his spark. Optimus smiled as he felt his little Teron curl up contentedly atop him and he gently cupped his hands over her, giving Miara enough room to move in her sleep, but holding her close enough for her to feel reassured.
"Optimus?"
"Hmmm?"
"I think some of the humans are afraid we're going to hurt our new friends."
"I know. They have a reason to be wary, though."
"Those Vermicious Knids can't hurt them, right?"
"No, Miara." Optimus stroked the top of Miara's head. "Apparently, they can't enter Earth's atmosphere and the Knids have no ships in which to travel in. The humans are safe from them and I plan to organize a mission to ensure they remain safe."
"Okay." Miara yawned and nestled against Optimus's chest. "That's good. I want to help."
"As do I. But now it's time for rest."
"Good night, Optimus."
"Sleep well, my little sandstorm."
Optimus Prime slipped into a state of recharge, pleased with his work that day and content that he and his sparkling were safe and happy together.