Exiles (6 page)

An eyeblink after Optimus sent his message, out of the sky came Silverbolt, his alt-form flashing in Velocitron’s bright sunlight, rocketing over the fastest of the Velocitronians as they neared the finish line. Optimus Prime watched with a mixture of satisfaction and dread, knowing that for every Velocitronian impressed by the show, there would be one who saw it as showing up the Velocitronians at what they did best. He had put Silverbolt on standby, anticipating the need to make this flyover as a demonstration to Velocitron that the Autobots had strengths that Velocitronians perhaps had not yet considered. Even if Optimus Prime could not solve the problems of Velocitron’s dying sun or squandered resources, he could leave Velocitronians feeling that the Autobots were something more than refugees. They had power, as represented by Silverbolt’s flight and—lest it be forgotten—Optimus Prime’s carrying the Matrix of Leadership and the mantle of Prime itself. Optimus had long since learned that though a good leader made friends when he could, sometimes the surest way to a durable alliance was a show of strength. When the quest for the AllSpark led them away from Velocitron, as it surely would soon, they would need all the lingering admiration they could create, particularly if Megatron arrived here on their trail.

Silverbolt screamed over the finish line at the exact moment Blurr and his competitor completed the race’s hundredth and final lap. Fireworks erupted on the track infield, and for a long moment no one knew who had won. Even those whose attention had not been taken by Silverbolt’s display would have been hard pressed to pick a winner; the two leaders had crossed the finish line
so close together that the track referee was even now consulting with Override. She listened, spoke briefly back to him, then climbed up onto a podium that overhung the finish line from the infield. In the stands, anticipation built to a frenzy, and a strong countercurrent of anger rumbled as Silverbolt banked in and came to an acrobatic landing, reassuming his bot-form precisely in time for his feet to touch the ground without so much as a stumble.

“You dare?” Ransack raged at Optimus Prime. “You vagabond mechs!”

“I do dare,” Optimus Prime said. “I dare to snap you out of your obsessions and the petty rivalries you indulge while your sun dies and a threat like none of you have ever seen looms behind us.”

He turned to make sure that other nearby Velocitronians were hearing him. Some—those still not thunderstruck by Silverbolt’s appearance or his very existence—were, and on their faces were expressions of anger, confusion … of course. There was no way to make this pleasant, Optimus Prime thought. But he would see it through.

“You immerse yourselves in the Speedia because you have given up,” he said. “You believe you are going to die, and you have long since abandoned any effort to prevent that death. Well, we have perhaps come for more than assistance.” He paused.

“We have come to awaken you! Megatron will find you, and when he does, you will be destroyed if you are not ready. You are the fastest bots on the ground that any Cybertronian has ever seen. I salute your excellence in this area. But do not let it absorb you so completely that you let war come upon you in the middle of a race.”

These last words he directed back toward Ransack, though he saw Override watching him from the winner’s gantry. “We may be vagabonds now, but soon you will
be, too.
If
Megatron lets you live that long. We must join together if we are to fight both the Decepticons and your dying sun.”

Ransack glared hatred at him, pure and undisguised. Around him, his flunkies and bodyguards put on hard faces as well. But outside of this core of opposition, Optimus Prime could see that his words had taken hold among at least some of the nearer spectators. It remained to be seen how Override would react.

If you are going to have enemies
, Optimus Prime reflected,
it is good for those enemies to show themselves
. Still he regretted whatever bad feeling he might have provoked among ordinary Velocitronians. It was always unfortunate when jockeying among leaders had negative consequences for broader populations. But what could he have done differently? He had needed Ransack to show his true colors in front of other Velocitronians, not just his lackeys, who already knew him for what he was and had committed themselves to him despite that. That objective had been accomplished. The other consequences could be dealt with over the long term, but any chance that Velocitron would enter the coming war on the Autobot side depended on identifying the Decepticon sympathizers … or those who would be Decepticon sympathizers whenever Megatron arrived.

That Optimus Prime was increasingly certain, would be sooner rather than later. He had no empirical reason for this intuition, but neither could he shake his belief that it was correct. The war for Cybertron was about to become a war for every planet populated by Cybertronians and their far-flung cousins. Optimus Prime and the Autobots could not allow themselves to be put on the defensive the way they had been back on Cybertron.

The uproar in the speedway grew more intense. A group of bots from the stands had broken through the
trackside barrier and poured onto the infield to surround Silverbolt. Others—the less politically motivated, Optimus guessed—surged around the two leaders, who had just reassumed their bot-forms and were receiving postrace examinations from track mechanics. Elsewhere on the infield, the three victims of the earlier crash were undergoing repairs. One of them was already up and around.

Through it all, Override’s voice suddenly rang loud and clear. “Velocitronians!” she proclaimed. “In one of the closest races in our planet’s history, the winner is … Blurr!”

Optimus Prime would not have thought it possible, but the speedway tumult increased yet again. The thunder of approbation seemed like it must be cracking welds all over the grandstand. For a moment Optimus questioned his judgment in ordering Silverbolt’s flyover. He had underestimated the Velocitronians’ devotion to their racers; the Autobot cause would not be served if they were remembered for upstaging the race finish and sowing chaos in the most important event on the Velocitronian calendar.

Blurr thrust his arms skyward and threw his head back with a triumphant shout. Around him his admirers mimicked the gesture. Even some of the bots who initially had charged toward Silverbolt were distracted by their jubilation at this news. Blurr seemed to be a popular racer. His vanquished opponent shook hands and clapped him on the shoulder. Off to one side of the infield, that racer’s pit crew and mechanical support team stood in a dejected cluster. In the crowd, Optimus heard some bots talking about Silverbolt. He was relieved to note that many of them seemed to be treating the flyover as an added show, but there was also, as he had feared, an undercurrent of resentment. So far, though, the thrilling
spectacle of the race seemed to hold sway, which was exactly what Optimus wanted.

There followed the trophy presentation. Abruptly Silverbolt was all but forgotten, as were the rest of the Autobots. Even Ransack momentarily left off his glaring at Optimus Prime to observe the ceremony. From a compartment built into the track scaffolding, Override removed the trophy itself and held it up. “SPEEDIA!” shouted the assembled bots. “This trophy is our oldest artifact!” Override proclaimed. “It is the symbol of our culture, the emblem of pure velocity!”

She held it out, and Blurr put his hands on it. As they held it between them and the speedway rumbled with the crowd’s deafening roar, Optimus Prime felt a curious desire to examine it. He was too far away to get a good look, but he could tell that it was constructed of metallic alloys, with four bars forming its frame and a pyramidal shape topping it, scored with jagged lines akin to lightning. Its square base was of the same material, and within it shone another shape, gleaming brilliantly in the midday sun.

The archivist in Optimus Prime wondered who had built it and when. But he could tell that he was alone in this curiosity. For the Velocitronians, it was a winner’s trophy. Blurr raised it overhead and basked in the acclaim of his championship.

Override, having crowned the race’s winner, now worked her way slowly through the crowd that surged around Blurr, pounding him on the back and reaching out to touch the trophy itself. Optimus Prime waited as Override crossed the track and climbed the bleachers to greet him. As she approached, Ransack drew away, consulting with his confidants. Optimus had the feeling that existing divisions on Velocitron had been exacerbated by his actions, if not his initial presence. The more he
observed of this world, the more he was starting to think that he had stumbled into a precarious situation rather than creating one. Override’s next action cemented that impression.

She reached out toward Blurr, beckoning him to follow her out to the infield, where Silverbolt was murmuring over his commlink. “What do I do if things get tense, Prime?” Silverbolt was asking. “There’s some angry people out here.”

“Take off if you have to,” Optimus Prime answered, “but don’t fight no matter what happens. I think help is on the way.”

He was right. Taking one of Blurr’s hands and raising it, Override paraded with the victorious racer out onto the infield, meeting Silverbolt as the crowd around the Autobot merged with Blurr’s jubilant followers and the rest of the bots who had come down out of the crowd in the aftermath of the race’s wild finish.

Velocitronian tradition demanded a planetwide celebration after the race, particularly, as Optimus had learned, if no political outcome was at stake. On the infield, apparently the party was already starting. Cans of various intoxicating beverages were visible in many hands, and Silverbolt was being treated as a curiosity. The mass of spectators still in the grandstand headed off to the hangar, where the main celebration would happen, and all seemed well. The only sour note was that Ransack had disappeared with his cadre of hangers-on. Once he had gone, Optimus and the other Autobots met Override, Silverbolt, and Blurr in the middle of the postrace chaos on the infield. From there Override led them to the hangar, where Blurr began going through his own set of postrace diagnostics. Once that was done, Blurr broke away from the repair bots and came right up to Silverbolt.

“I remember you said I was fast,” he said. “I am. But there’s wheel fast and then there’s wing fast.”

“Air has a lot less friction than ground, that’s for sure,” Silverbolt agreed.

“We’ve heard of the Seekers,” Blurr said. “But you’re the first one we’ve ever seen. Isn’t that right, Override?”

She nodded. “They have always been just stories here. I don’t believe there were ever any Seekers here. We believe in the wheel and the road.”

“I am not a Seeker,” Silverbolt said. “Megatron turned them, with Starscream, to the Decepticon cause.”

“I don’t know those names, either,” Override said.

Optimus Prime hated to worsen the mood, but he had Ransack very much on his mind. “You will soon enough,” he said, but nobody appeared to hear him. It was a strange sensation for Optimus Prime not to be listened to. He was glad in a way; having every bot within auditory range hanging on his every word was a burden. Here, in the middle of a large and noisy gathering of bots for whom Cybertron and the war were just stories, he had a fleeting chance to blend in and let go of the strain of leadership.

One of Blurr’s team, hanging around the edge of the group, said, “You, Silverbolt. Are you the fastest flier where you come from?”

Silverbolt thought about it. “Never seen one faster,” he said. “But on the other hand, we never had a straight-up race.”

“Mainspring here is obsessed with who’s the fastest and the best and the biggest. He likes to measure everything.” Blurr laughed.

“Well, maybe I’ll get a chance to race Starscream next time I see him,” Silverbolt said, full of bravado. Optimus wondered what the outcome of such a race would be in noncombat circumstances.

The mention of Starscream reminded him that he
could not avoid his responsibilities any longer, that the moment for being anonymous was long past for Optimus Prime. Time was short. “Override,” he said. “May I speak with you?”

She nodded, and they broke away from the group to consult in a quiet corner of the hangar.

“I should apologize,” he said.

“Yes, you should,” she agreed. “You had no idea what you were doing.”

“I did, in fact. But it is true that I did not anticipate all of the consequences. Such as,” Optimus said, watching Override closely, “Ransack’s desire to take over Velocitron for himself.”

Override was silent for some time. “I could have managed him if you had not arrived,” she said.

“I’m sure you still can,” Optimus said. “You seem stronger than he is.”

Looking him in the eye, Override said, “Do you think you are stronger than Megatron?”

Optimus Prime had no answer for this.

“We must leave soon to continue our search for the AllSpark,” he said. “If Megatron comes, will you fight him?”

“What you’re really asking is if Ransack will,” Override said. Optimus nodded. “Then the answer is, I don’t know. We are desperate, Prime. Desperate bots turn to strong leaders, and they mistake tyranny for strength. I have feared this turn on our planet for some time. The race can only preoccupy us for so many cycles before we must confront the problem that we cannot live here much longer without aid.”

“This is one reason why I wanted Velocitronians to know the strength of the Autobots. You may rely on us.”

“Until you leave,” Override said.

“Before we leave, I believe we can get your Space Bridge working again,” Optimus Prime said.

Taken aback, Override paused as if replaying his words in her head. “You can?”

“I do not wish to make promises, but yes. I think we can.”

Override nodded thoughtfully, looking at the array of her citizens going about their business in the vast hangar. “If that’s true, you’ll leave a better impression than you could ever have anticipated,” she said. “But I still can’t promise what will happen if Megatron comes.”

Optimus Prime thought he could. Wherever Megatron went, there was only one outcome.