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Authors: Alan Dean Foster

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BOOK: The Veiled Threat
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He was not so preoccupied with such thoughts that he failed to chide the scientific member of the team for engaging in unnecessarily dangerous extracurricular activities before the search had even begun.

“This is not a vacation jaunt, Dr. Ishihara. That extended free fall you just took was unwarranted.”

Removing her drop helmet, she shook out her long black hair. “Why, Captain, how thoughtful of you to be concerned for little me,” she replied tightly.

He grunted. “Got nothing to do with the kind of concern you’re talking about. You’re here because of your skills and I’d be disappointed to lose them.”

“Ah. So if I were to die your regret would be wholly professional?”

Optimus interrupted the conversation. “If it would not constitute too much of an imposition, might I remind both of you that we are here to look for Decepticons whose signal has been lost and who may be moving farther away from this location with every minute that you both stand here jockeying for individual social dominance?”

Lennox let it lie as he climbed up onto the running board on the driver’s side of the cab. “Never mind. Let’s move.” Peering across the truck’s hood, he gestured at the expedition’s other human. “If you’re ready, Kami-sama?”

She looked startled, started to say something, then nodded and headed for the door on her side of the truck. As soon as she had settled herself into the seat beside him, three engines revved as one and the trio of vehicles started off in the direction where the last confirmed Gamma signal had been detected. Once under way, the scientist double-checked to make certain all of her gear was present in the cab. Satisfied that nothing had been overlooked, she sat back down beside him.

They were heading for a line of low, heavily eroded hills and gullies that dominated the horizon off to the northwest. This part of Australia was home to some of the oldest rocks on Earth. Also to some of its more peculiar plants and animals, all of which had been forced to adapt to an unrelentingly harsh environment. More than anything, the terrain reminded him of the American Southwest. That thought in turn brought back memories of the battle at Mission City.
Peering out the window, he surveyed the austere countryside. If that kind of clash was fated to be repeated here, at least no innocent civilians would be put at risk.

Eyeing their stark surroundings, the red rock and sandy ground interrupted only intermittently by clumps of struggling brush and the isolated gum tree, he found himself wondering yet again what a Decepticon would seek here other than isolation. If the latter, the planet boasted locations even more remote that would be better suited to concealment. It didn’t make sense. Starscream and his ilk had to be after more than just seclusion.

Halfway around the world, Epps was probably wondering the same thing. The Decepticons had to be searching for something besides solitude. Unless of course their presence in the jungles of Peru and the Outback of Australia was just a coincidence involving their quest for something as yet undetermined.

No, he corrected himself. That didn’t stand to reason, either. Nothing they did involved coincidence. Like all machines, sentient or not, Autobots and Decepticons always operated with a set purpose in mind. Based on what he had learned and the knowledge he had acquired from a year of living and working among the Autobots, it was impossible to imagine someone like Ironhide, for example, engaging in a previously unresearched activity on the spur of the moment, or Starscream doing anything that smacked of the spontaneous.

The team advanced northward all the rest of that day and on into early evening. The Autobots, of course, could have continued searching operations
around the clock, but in deference to their human allies chose to rest during times of darkness. There was no need for a campfire or, for that matter, a lantern. Soldier and scientist consumed their self-heating, ready-to-eat meals while illuminated by the soft yellow glow of Optimus’s fog lights.

As she ate, Kaminari amused herself by pointing at the eastern horizon and slowly working her finger westward. One by one, she began identifying stars. Given the clarity of the Outback night, she had not made much progress when an impressed Lennox finally interrupted.

“Do you know the name of
every
star in the sky?”

She looked at him over a forkful of food. “Certainly not. For one thing, these heavens are far less familiar to me than those of the Northern Hemisphere. Learning the names of the stars is an amusement, a diversion.”

He spooned up beef stew. “I’d think your areas of expertise would be more than sufficient to fill up your brain without the need for any additional stimulation.”

Her head went back slightly as she laughed and her hair was lost against the night. “I have a big hard drive. Plenty of unused space.” Her eyes twinkled in the truck’s lights. “How about you, Captain? What occupies your thoughts in your spare time?”

He swallowed. “My family. Ways of eliminating Decepticons. Football.” He dug into his remaining food. “Must seem pretty plebeian to someone of your accomplishments.”

Her smile vanished and she turned serious. “It’s ‘plebeian’ people like you, Captain William Lennox,
who keep people like me safe from things like Decepticons.” Her playfulness returned. “Also, any career soldier who can use ‘plebeian’ in a sentence garners my undying admiration.”

He smiled through the steam rising from his spoon. “Then I’ll try to keep thinking of things you don’t think I’d think about.”

His response was punctuated by a chorus of canine yips in the distance that were simultaneously mournful and hopeful. “Dingo,” he commented. Tilting the disposable, biodegradable container to his lips, he sucked down the last of the stew. As he did so, something much nearer than the wild dogs let out a nasal bellow. Kaminari had ignored the yips, but the new sound made her jump.

“What was that?”

“Wild camel, I think. Not sure what subspecies. Can’t tell without looking at its fur.”

She stared. “How do you know so much about camels?”

He crumpled the empty food container and set it aside. “Spent some time in the Gulf States about a year ago. Too much time.” He rose. “We ought to get some rest. You take Optimus’s cab.” He nodded across the illuminated area where they had parked for the night. “I’ll get in Ironhide’s backseat.”

“That’s not nearly as comfortable,” she pointed out.

“It suits me. On the verge of a potential battlefield situation I don’t like to get too comfortable. Try to get a good night’s sleep. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow, Kami.”

She met his gaze. “Not ‘sama’ anymore?”

“I’ll decide later. This expedition is just getting started.”

Ironhide’s faux interior was more than accommodating to someone who had spent plenty of nights sleeping in a tent or on bare ground. As he let consciousness slip away while gazing out the windshield at the spray of stars overhead, a strange new sound reached him where he lay. Not dingoes or camels this time. Something far more jaunty but almost as alien: Japanese girl band pop music.

Sealing the cab while still allowing for a sufficient free flow of air to keep his guest alive, Ironhide proceeded to soundproof his interior. He also shut down his own aural receptors. Optimus could not politely do likewise since he was the one playing host to the human with the pounding music player.

One more reason why Prime was the leader, Ironhide reflected as he settled down to wait for sunrise. Had the female human’s irritatingly repetitive sound device been present in his cab, he would readily have turned one of his lesser weapons on it and blasted it out of existence.

The first light of dawn in the Outback was as brilliant and sharply defined as the southern stars had been the night before. Lennox was both surprised and relieved to see that Kaminari was already eating her breakfast when he emerged from the back of the black dually.

“I know scientists tend to be early risers, but I’m still impressed,” he told her.

“One learns nothing while sleeping.” She indicated a small lizard with a blue tongue that was sitting on a
nearby rock catching the first warming rays of the rising sun. “Petr would like it here. The way I feel about it, I can sleep when I’m dead.”

As his coffee warmed he opened his laptop and amused himself by initiating a search for the word “Oobagooma.” The site had been well researched prior to their departure from Diego Garcia, of course, but he was still in waking mode and the scientist had pushed him to do something useful. Or at least to give the appearance of doing so.

Nothing new appeared on the screen. There was nothing more about their inhospitable surroundings to see on the Web than there was in person. They were in a part of the world that had no population to speak of and no developed industrial facilities. Nothing to offer except isolation and remoteness; two qualities that the region shared with the far greener southeastern Peru.

He punched in the specific coordinates where Epps was operating. Physically at least, the two regions could hardly be more disparate. One was windswept semi-desert, the other lush tropical forest. One was flat or hilly at most, the other steep and mountainous. Their present location was dry except in monsoon season, the other perpetually drenched and humid. Neither boasted much in the way of a human presence. Both featured protected natural areas. He studied the lines of information keenly, looking for something, anything, that might provide a link between the two seemingly unrelated corners of the planet. There was also … there was also …

He sat up straight, leaning forward and away from
the dually’s front tire. Ironhide responded to the sudden movement.

“You react sharply.” Concern underlay the truck’s response. “A muscle spasm?”

“No, a brain spasm.” The fingers of Lennox’s right hand moved over the keyboard. “Or maybe a brain fart—I’m not sure yet.”

Kaminari noted the exchange. “What have you found, Captain?”

“I was thinking about coincidence last night. How the Autobots and Decepticons never do anything that’s just coincidental. It got me to wondering. Our surveillance satellites pick up two strong Gamma signals in two locations as utterly different as any two on Earth can be. According to machine logic, that can’t be coincidence. Which means that even though research didn’t come up with anything, there
has
to be something that links the two signal sites. Maybe they were concentrating so hard on prior Decepticon motivation they overlooked something that would otherwise have been obvious.” He tapped the reinforced screen. “I think maybe I’ve found it.”

Bending slightly forward so that the tip of the scabbard slung across her back wouldn’t dig into the ground, she crouched down beside him to stare at the laptop. “You are looking at a summary of what is known about this area. I have studied it closely. I do not see any similarity with the part of South America where Sergeant Epps has been sent.”

“Not overtly.” There was excitement in his voice—or at least as much as Lennox ever allowed himself to show. “You have to cast a wide net to make
the connection.” He tapped the screen again. Two maps appeared, side by side. They displayed geological schematics accompanied by summarizations in small print.

“Look at this part of northwest South America, Kami. Not only the area where Epps, Petr, and the two Autobots are hunting Decepticons, but the regions to the north and south as well. What do you see?”

She scratched at one ear. “It’s a geology map. Surveyors’ reports. What am I looking for? Roadways and population centers show up much better on a political map.”

“Look here, and here.” He tapped the screen. “These are all exploration blocks that have been leased out to various companies. For prospecting and mining gold, silver, copper, nonmetals, and—hydrocarbons.”

She drew back slightly and shifted her gaze from the screen to the soldier. “So? Are you thinking the Decepticons are into recreational prospecting?”

“No,” Lennox replied, “but looking at these maps and this information I have the feeling that they are after something.”

She eyed him blankly. “I don’t understand.” It was the first time since making her acquaintance that he had heard her use that phrase.

“What minerals is this area, where we are now, noted for?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. I didn’t think a knowledge of local geology was required groundwork for hunting Decepticons.”

“Neither did I. Until I started thinking about coincidences.”
Closing the armored laptop, he tucked it under one arm as he stood. “Optimus!”

Starting up, the big diesel came closer. “Captain Lennox? You have found something?”

“Maybe. You Autobots are especially sensitive to radioactives. Are you aware of any around here?”

The leader of the Autobots was silent for a moment. “As a matter of fact, there are significant ore bodies scattered throughout the ground as far as I can perceive.”

“Of course there are.” Lennox turned back to the still bemused Kaminari. “
That’s
what Oobagooma is noted for. That’s the
only
thing Oobagooma is noted for. A big uranium deposit that the local government is still debating whether or not and how to exploit. But,” he concluded triumphantly, “the Decepticons wouldn’t hesitate.

“Consider what’s happened recently. First the Decepticons move on the Kariba–Cahorra Bassa dam complex in southeast Africa. A place capable of generating enormous quantities of hydroelectric power.”

“But their intent there was to destroy the two dams and cause as much damage, death, and disruption to local economies as possible,” she argued.

“Ah, that’s what
we
thought. That was the human interpretation. You have to think more like an autonomous robotic lifeform. Suppose that was their secondary objective, their backup? What if their
initial
purpose was to find a way to make use of all that energy? To accumulate power from an outside source? More power than they themselves could generate. If they have a way to store it …” He looked past her to where the big diesel sat idling. “Optimus?”

The leader of the Autobots considered. So did Ironhide and Salvage, who had moved closer to listen. “Such a thing is possible,” he finally conceded. “Ironhide?”

BOOK: The Veiled Threat
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