Of Man and Metal (Transformers Prime)

Chapter 9

"...Who would build something like this, then destroy it, and just leave it here?"  Technology was expensive and no one wasted a billion-dollar invention like this.  "It doesn't make sense."

"It's not an invention," Andrew said.  "You see that face - or at least, what's left of it?  This thing was alive."

Another distant flash of lightning lit up the sky and reflected off the demolished metal of the large robot, and a few of seconds later, a crash of thunder followed. "Yeah right.  Quit pulling my leg.  It's a robot.  It can't possibly be alive."

He just shrugged.  "I told you you wouldn't believe me."

I thought back to the dream I had the other night, of being chased through the military base by a giant robot. Surely, that was the kind of thing that belonged only to nightmares. A machine could only move at the direction of a human being or a computer program written by one.  I told myself what I was looking at was some secret government project that had gotten out of hand.  Maybe MECH had been called in to covertly pick up the pieces.  Or perhaps we were instead stealing someone else's private robot project.  Was there an entire underworld of competing engineers I didn't know about?

All of these crazy ideas somehow made more sense than a sentient robot.  Several soldiers were cutting apart the corpse into smaller, more manageable chunks.  Andrew and I were directed to help load pieces into the trucks.  The work was much easier when I imagined it as hunks of scrap metal, not parts of a giant intelligent being.  And it was easy to accept such a perception in the emerging monotony of physical labor.  My metal legs were much stronger than I had ever expected - how could they lift hunks of scrap much larger than I was?  I lifted with my legs, but it was my arms that grew sore instead.  Andrew was having no such difficulty.  His modification was along his entire spine, and I couldn't help but wonder just how big of a car he would be able to lift before he broke into a sweat.  Compared to all the strong ex-military agents working around us, he was practically a super soldier.

"Something tells me you've done this a few times."

He dropped a large servo into the covered truck bed before jumping down.  He shrugged.  "This isn't the first one I helped them bring in.  Normally, the mechs are identical, same shape and color.  They're like drones, or soldiers or something."

"Soldiers?" I laughed nervously.  "You don't think there'll be a war, do you?"  What would it mean if war broke out?  Would my parents be safe?  I didn't think I would be able warn them if something happened.  And what would happen to me?  Would I be forced to become a soldier for MECH, fighting on the front lines?

At the direction of a one of the agents, I crouched down at the side of what was once the robot's foot - I think. It was hard to identify any of it now. Andrew got on the other side, and with a grunt and a heave, we got it up off the ground while a flatbed platform was carefully being positioned beneath it.

"I think there already is a war."

His words nearly made me drop the hunk of scrap. I had to readjust my hold on it. "What?"

"It's a secret war, and I'm not sure if we're a part of it, but yeah. It seems like the best explanation for the carnage."

First giant robots, and now a war? I hoped Andrew was just being a bit dramatic.

"Okay, lower it!" My ears perked up at the voice.  Careful not to loosen my hold, I turned to look back over my shoulder. Above us, near the head of the carcass, Hillary stood on top of the robot.  A helicopter hovered some feet above, with a cable slowly lowering towards her.  When it was close enough, she secured it to a conglomeration of chains that had been hooked around the main chassis of its chest.  I watched her as she worked.  Her metal hand moved as swiftly as her real one, with the same precision that suited everything about her.  The spotlights illuminated her light blond hair, which was pulled in a tight military-style bun - I couldn't help but imagine how, of it was loose, it might waver in the cool night air.  She didn't climb down from the carnage carefully; instead she jumped and landed skillfully on the scattered gravel below in a single motion.