Trichess, Part 5

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in Ivy's mind. If she had not told about it, the pressure would have made her explode.

GECKO and CYRWAY: "This is how we go about it, to make our heads explode all night!"

Silently sighing, she slipped from the chair.

GECKO: Ow! Damn! Last time I drink 100 proof in the morning...

"Take care, boys, I have to go," she said and turned to the door.

"One moment please, you still haven't answered our question," Flowers reminded her.

BROOKLYN: "Why do I look like a Viking but have a silly name?"

Ivy warned him off.

"Please, don't ask anymore..."

GECKO: *falsetto* It's embarrassing....

He noticed her upset expression and nodded.

"Take care, Ivy," he said instead.

"Yo! See ya!" came from the two others.

"Bye, Great Dane!" Ivy said before she disappeared through the door.

GECKO: *Scooby Doo voice.* Rye, Rivy!

The head that flapped out sleepily mentioned: "Woff..!"

Again Flowers hung over the scrap of paper from the tax inspector's office. Minutes passed by without conversation. Suddenly he remarked: "By the way - thank you very much."

"For what?"

BROOKLYN: For making Dane slobber on my income tax.

"For repairing the map..."

Alex swallowed. Flowers had noticed it somehow. Oh - garbage...

The shop owner continued: "...you don't know how annoyed I was after dropping it while I had been dusting."

CYRWAY: CLUTCH!

A strange, nearly lurid atmosphere lay over the street where Magic lived. And the closer Ivy got to her sister's house, the stranger she felt in her shoes. Everything looked, as usual: the building, the garden. However... there was something in the air that made her hair bristle. The front door was unlocked as it often was during the day. Everything seemed to be totally normal from the outside... Nevertheless, the girl entered the house, hesitating this time.

"Mag...?" she asked loudly.

GECKO: *Snarl voice* Me Snarl lost!

She got no answer. But Magic was inside the house, she knew that by intuition!

Instinctively, Ivy started to sniff. A strong smell of coffee wafted through the house.

BROOKLYN: Death by caffeine overdose. Not a pretty sight.

She slowly went to the kitchen.

"Mag, are you here?"

No, she was not here.

CYRWAY: A detective's intuition.

A can of freshly scalded coffee was in the coffee machine. Ivy thought for a minute, then she took a mug. After the first swig, she realized that the mug had absolutely not been necessary. The coffee would be able to stand upright on the table without it.

CYRWAY: Yes, just the way I love it.

The liquid was of a consistence that could reanimate dead people.

BROOKLYN: Added some Worchester sauce, eh?

"There's someone who's really stressed," Ivy said to herself. She knew her sister.

At that moment a blood-curdling primitive yell made the house shake to its very foundations. The horrifying voice came from upstairs, from the second floor.

GECKO: Crap! She's de-evolved!

"Uh-oh," Ivy swallowed. Passing by, she grasped an open box of chocolate cookies and run up the stairway, taking the stairs two at one time.

"Mega-sized, hyper-cursed, giant bull-shit!!!"

BROOKLYN: That sounded like a Sailor Scout from Hell's ultimate attack.

"It's all right, this movie's gonna get a PG rate," Ivy commented laconically as she was entering the computer room.

ALL THREE chuckle weakly.

BROOKLYN: And I thought Cyrway was bad about breaking down the fourth wall.

Magic jerked around, irritated. Her entire body was set to alert, every muscle strained. She was prepared to attack at once. However, as she noticed who her visitor was, she calmed down in relief. She fell back into her office chair and took a deep breath.

"It's just you," she said wiping nervously with the right hand through her hair.

CYRWAY: I thought it was Starscream trying to kill me out of jealousy.

Ivy felt an icy shudder. Her sister looked like the living dead.

ALL THREE: Musta been the coffee.

Her skin was ash gray, blue veins underneath clearly visible. Exhaustion made her face look drained. Deep dark marks were beneath her reddened eyes. The young woman trembled slightly when she was turning back to work doggedly at her computer.

GECKO: Zombie Magic.

"Gosh...! Mag, what happened to you?" Ivy asked anxiously, putting the cookies aside. Carefully she touched Magic's arm. The skin felt ice cold. "Are you sick? Can I help you? You look like Dracula's sister!"

CYRWAY: Anita Blake will save us from her!

"Then I'd like two litres of type AB negative," Magic answered sarcastically.

GECKO: Will Type O Negative do?

CYRWAY: Posing in Playgirl, no doubt.

"No, I am not sick. I just have a little problem with a man called Bishoph..."

CYRWAY: Don't we all...bringing Stacy Kiebler to Raw, what was he thinking?

BROOKLYN: Need a bad guy in this fic, after all.

GECKO: The Decepticons aren't doing their job.

She started to dig through a box of 3.5' disks,

CYRWAY: Foot?

mumbling something of "Damned boot disk!"

GECKO: When in doubt, use the CD!

Now, Ivy was completely confused. The strange atmosphere which was around her sister made her stomach cramp.

CYRWAY: Actually, that was PMS in combination with the coffee.

She strengthened the grip around Magic's arm, which the latter did not even seem to notice.

"Mag, forget the stupid disks!" she said. "Who is this Bishoph guy? Has he done something to you?"

BROOKLYN: We're still trying to figure that out.

CYRWAY: General Manager of RAW no one likes.

GECKO: She's a stalker!

The other looked at her 'lil' sister with tired smile, patting the hand on her arm in a calming way.

CYRWAY: *through gritted teeth* Perfectly calm....perfectly calm...must blast Starscream...perfectly calm.

"No, Mystery, not to me..." she replied.

GECKO: "It's always a mystery! Not like you want it to be!"

"But now I have to find the boot disk. This cursed security system formatted my complete hard drive..."

CYRWAY: I thought you said it had no damage to your hard drive?

BROOKLYN: It totally reformats, but leaves the information intact! Amazing!

At last! She found what she was looking for.

GECKO: The half-full bottle of tequilla.

"But what - confound it - is the matter with you, Mag?" Ivy insisted. "Don't say you're all right. In this case I'm forced to drag you to the next mirror!"

ALL THREE: NO!!!

Now Magic laughed.

"Oh, sister, I know I look like I was swallowed and thrown up again," she described in blunt words her weary appearance.

GECKO: You look like the Golgothan.

"But that's the way you look after four days with, all in all, six hours of sleep and twenty liters of coffee..."

BROOKLYN: Taken intravenously.

Ivy's comment was a gasping cough; she had swallowed her own spittle the wrong way.

GECKO: Pleasant.

"Well, whoever this Bishoph guy is, he must have aggravated you in a barbarian way!"

CYRWAY: He ravaged her!

BROOKLYN: More like ravaged Megatron.

GECKO: What did Ravage do?

she finally managed to say, choking. "I can't remember anyone else you've ever stayed awake for night and day."

"Wrong - I definitely don't do so for Bishoph, but for the one this asshole pesters!" Magic corrected her. Meanwhile, she absolutely did not care about good manners anymore.

ALL THREE: Good manners?

She restarted her computer, listened, and sighed.

"It made 'beep-beep'," Ivy remarked.

"And that means..." Magic started.

CYRWAY: It thinks it's a MacIntosh.

"...Restart and hit!" her sister completed.

Magic initialised the restart again. But this time, while the computer was booting, she hit against the housing from below - not too soft, not too hard...

GECKO: Ah, she comes from the Dave Bumford School of Computer Repair.

BROOKLYN: Computers for Rednecks, 101.

"beep-beep, beep-beep!"

CYRWAY: Mine sings the Doom song on start-up.

She sighed in relief.

"It made 'beep-beep, beep-beep'!" Ivy commented, grinning. "From drive 'E' with best regards: I'm back in business!"

BROOKLYN: Drive C, I thought.

She reached into the cookie box she had placed onto the desk before. She drew back her fingers a bit confused, then reached into it again... At last she took a closer look into the box: no doubt - the thing was empty!

GECKO: *hushed* You ate my last cookie, didn't you, Ivy?

"Oh, I ate them," Magic explained,

BROOKLYN: Of course...how forgetful...

while she was installing on the hard drive the most urgently needed programs.

CYRWAY: Diablo II, Daggerfall, SNES emulator, Adobe Photoshop...

Unbelievingly, Ivy looked back and forth between the box and her sister.

GECKO: I never noticed the resemblance until now.

"Tell me, Mag, have I missed something? Is it possible that your stomach is connected to a black hole or something...?"

BROOKLYN: If that was the case, she would have been sucked into herself.

"My stomach is a black hole! I haven't had time to eat for a while."

"And what about that stuff in the coffee machine?" Ivy wanted to know.

GECKO: Taken intraveinously.

Magic looked at her, understanding nothing.

"Huh...? That's coffee... What has that to do with eating?"

"Please! That stuff is of a consistency that you have to chew it!" Ivy mentioned.

Magic sighed and continued with her work. She was not in the mood for jokes. Her sister watched her typing for while. But that became too stressful and so she looked around the room.

CYRWAY: *as Ivy* Oh well, I'm just going to play in the street now....

Magic's computer room was three meters long and two meters wide. A long workbench contained the computer, and a large wardrobe was on one a shelf, with a window on the other side of it. The furniture was made of uncolored metal, the walls painted in aluminium gray: the fitting framework for her Transformers collection. That was namely located on the shelf, action figures in the upper part, comics, video cassettes, and merchandizing stuff on the lower levels.

GECKO: The true meaning of Transformers. *Mel Brooks "Yogurt"* Merchandising!

The walls were covered by posters

BROOKLYN: Like Cyrway's apartment.

CYRWAY: Save with Pat Lee's Starscream over my bed.

and a heap of stupid quotes.

BROOKLYN: *Ultra Magnus* "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...all right, hand me the bomb."

GECKO: *Megatron* "You're either lying or you're stupid." *Starscream* "I'm stupid! I'm stupid!"

CYRWAY: *Grimlock* This battlefield, not boardroom!

BROOKLYN: That wasn't from the cartoon.

CYRWAY: Of course not.

The latter caught Ivy's interest at once:

Smaller mistakes we do by ourselves, the more important are done by the computer.

Planning means replacing accident by error.

GECKO: Arty's quote: I brake for...oh, SHIT, no brakes!

CYRWAY: My favourite for the day is "In case of rapture, can I have your car?"

That one had been there since last week. The same went for:

Computer are only human, too, but easier to reprogram. But meanwhile the comment 'Had to be proved!" was added to it.

GECKO: I personally like "My computer goes down on me."

Assembly is a method to rewrite programs that work too slow in a way that they work no-more.

Ivy giggled.

BROOKLYN: She had gone mad.

A third of Murphy's laws was added to:

Anything that can go wrong, will.

A Smith and Wesson beats four aces.

CYRWAY: And a Thompson beats a royal straight.

The light at the end of the tunnel is the train that comes your direction.

GECKO: No Leaf Clover. God, Metallica sucks now.

Basic rules were pinned directly onto the door:

#1 The boss is always right.

# 2 If this exceptionally proven not to be so

# 1 enters into force immediately.

BROOKLYN: We are bored. Persistence is futile.

However, Ivy's favorite quote was:

Out of the chaos, a voice spoke to me:

GECKO: "I have summoned you here for a purpose..."

"Be joyful and smile. Things could be worse!" So I was joyful and smiled..."...and things got worse!" she completed after glancing through the window.

CYRWAY: This fic stopped entertaining me three minutes ago...

"What's wrong?" Magic asked, surprised.

BROOKLYN: The quotes were getting to me.

"Weeell," Ivy began in a hesitating way. "It is heading for your front door, while it is trying to keep maximum distance from Pentacle..."

ALL THREE: Like an iron hand cast in velvet, it's Jehovah's Witness!

"Justine!" Magic gasped, clenching her fists. "This femme is the last thing I need now!"

CYRWAY: Aw, come on...holy rollers are fun to pester!

BROOKLYN: You know, something about incorporating personal religious viewpoints into a fanfiction is just wrong.

"Don't panic, first we'll see what happened, then we'll panic,"

GECKO: She stole that quote from Rodimus!

Ivy cited. "I'll try to brush her off..."

CYRWAY: Want to get rid of them for good? Tell them you've converted to their religion. So it's a lie; it gets rid of them.

Saying so, she rushed down the stairs. Magic breathed heavily.

BROOKLYN: Whatever happened to tolerance?

First the trouble with Bishoph,

GECKO: With his sidekicks, Rosie and Jamal.

and now Justine the old worshipper had to appear, too.

GECKO: I think Bishoph would be more of a concern.

CYRWAY: Poor Minidust...we hardly knew ye....

Slowly she stood up.

BROOKLYN: Join us In the Harry Potter book burning!

She felt deathly sick - she needed sleep, but she also knew that she was not able to afford sleep now. Not before she knew that Megatron was safe.

GECKO: But first, we deal with the holy roller.

The young woman went to the window and looked outside. Wind gathered, a young storm that hat not yet reached its full power. It hunted wild clouds over the sky - grayish blue like the wild sea... Greedily she sucked the fresh air into her lungs. It refreshed her, gave her energy. And there it was again, the flow...

CYRWAY: Oh dear... *Sinks into her seat.*

Justine Manriver was five feet seven inches tall, with brown hair, green eyes, a bloated impression though of normal weight, and was well-kept outfit but conservative.

GECKO: Cyrway's sister, in other words.

She was of the same age as Magic, had been a college friend and was - how to put it? - deeply religious.

CYRWAY: I had a friend like that in high school.

GECKO: How did you manage?

CYRWAY: Every time she tried to convert me, I tried to convert her. She finally got the hint.

"No, Justine, my sister doesn't have time for you yet!"

Ivy stood straddling the entrance in front of the visitor who, bold as brass, rushed through the door which was admittedly unlocked.

BROOKLYN: This is where you could threaten to call the police for trespassing.

"Then she has to take the time somehow," Justine answered pointedly and tried to surround this teeth-baring Cerberus in front of her.

CYRWAY: Christians such as these insult the teachings of Jesus Christ.

Ivy's amber eyes glowed dangerously.

"No!" she growled. "She has important things to do...

BROOKLYN: Like sleep. And caffeine detox.

Do you know the meaning of intrusion, Miss Manriver?"

GECKO: She's on a religion drive. If she signs up twenty new Christians, she gets *generic announcer voice* Adhesive medical strips!

Justine ignored the last remark.

"Important things?" she repeated instead, still trying to pass by Ivy. "Probably such dangerous games like the diabolic symbol on her car. The Lord doesn't like it when we experiment with these things!"

CYRWAY: *sinks lower into her seat.*

BROOKLYN: You know, even Harry Potter celebrates Christmas and Easter.

"Justine, what do you want from me?" The words came from upstairs just then. "If you wanted to inform me that they've found the Ark I 'd be close to believing you. But it is neither made from wood nor stranded on Mount Ararat..."

GECKO: Good comeback!

BROOKLYN: When will they learn? Don't provoke them, they won't leave otherwise!

CYRWAY: *grumbling* Unless you're feeling up to the challenge.

No hope - there was no way to pass Ivy. That was no human being: that was a furious watch-dog! All right. Justine pulled an article that was part of her congregation magazine out of a hand-bag which was too old-fashioned even for Ivy's grandmother.

"It is proved that the C-14 method doesn't say anything about the age of any fossils," she explained. "According to this, an acknowledged scientist was able to show that the Earth isn't billions of years old. It is just a few thousand years old, exactly as the Bible told us before..."

GECKO: And the Bible was written by man.

CYRWAY: Emphasis on "men."

BROOKLYN: Do we have to make this MiST a religious debate?

Roars of laughter interrupted her report. Strangely, it seemed to come out of every corner...

CYRWAY: FEAR SCIENCE!

"Tell your professor, that it has a minimum age of four million years," the voice explained in a heavily sarcastic way. "A witness of this time has reported it to me!"

GECKO: She doesn't know when to shut her mouth, does she?

The sky clouded more and more. Less and less light fell through the hall window, and the darkness seemed to be planned somehow.

BROOKLYN: Yep. Influenced by "The Craft."

Justine lowered her lids, trying to get a look upstairs through the gloom, but she was not able to see Magic.

"Magret, is that another hint towards your childish robots?" she asked morosely. "I really can't understand what an adult woman likes about these... Transformers..."

CYRWAY: I love cars more than people.

Ivy was taken aback. Why did Justine call her sister 'Magret'?

BROOKLYN: She's pretty quick on the intake, isn't she?

"I love one of these Transformers," Magic, whose form as black silhouette now appeared at the top of the stairs, replied shortly and significantly.

GECKO: You'll never get rid of her now.

In the strange gloom that continued to fill the house, the house owner seemed to be as unreal as a phantom.

CYRWAY: *shouting* Do not take Primus's name in vain!

GECKO: Calm down there, Xaaron.

"You mean you like how the character is shown," Justine tried to put the statement in a perspective she preferred.

BROOKLYN: Better start the Hail Marys now.

But Magic's contradiction let the trial fail: "No, Justine, I love him like women love men..."

GECKO: *Ren voice* You sick little monkey!

The voice hung in the room like the heavy scent of an oriental perfume. Exactly like the laughter had done before, its bewitching sound seeming to come from everywhere.

CYRWAY: Ah, the power of a karaoke machine.

"But...," Justine began to feel chilly. Had it became colder in here or was it just her imagination?

BROOKLYN: *Holden McNeil* Fic-tion-al char-ac-ters!

"Even more," Magic's voice continued, cocooning her listener like a spider its prey.

GECKO: Like Black Arachnia to Silverbolt.

"There is nothing I wish more yearningly than to lay in his arms after we've made love to each other."

CYRWAY: I'm going to be sick.

BROOKLYN: Why is it that you do that to every other fanfiction with romance in it save yours?

CYRWAY: I don't have romance in my fics.

GECKO: Then explain Past Zero Time! Oh, and you killed Robert Stack.

CYRWAY mallets him.

Justine gasped, horrified. It was that bad!

GECKO: Guy Double Target image...

CYRWAY: Funny how in the Bible, masturbation is a sin and yet pedophilia isn't.

BROOKLYN: What did I say about religious viewpoints in a MiST?

"But, that is perverse! That is blasphemy!"

CYRWAY: So's sex before marriage. *Grins wickedly.*

GECKO: Here's to perversion! *cheers*

Her voice broke. "I..." She had to inhale. "...hope this is just a bad joke..."

BROOKLYN: Yes, yes it is. Can we get rid of her soon? *Glances over to Gecko and Cyrway, who are mock-making out.* Cut it out, you too.

GECKO: Oh, Octane...

CYRWAY: Sandstorm...

GECKO: Octane...

CYRWAY: Sandstorm...

BROOKLYN: *sighs heavily.* I give up on you two.

Although it was difficult, Justine forced herself back to her usual slightly transfigured, pretended composure that abounded with arrogance. She continued: "If not, you urgently need help, Magret.

GECKO: We've been saying that since the beginning of this fic.

BROOKLYN: And what's worse, Justine's not meaning psychiatric help, either.

The devil is tempting you! That is no joke!"

CYRWAY: After reading this, I feel like watching Angel Sanctuary again.

GECKO: Let's prove how we really are dopes!

Silence, no answer. But something obscure flowed invisibly down the stairs, spreading out in the entire hall.

CYRWAY: You stopped entertaining me three minutes ago!

Justine's pretended composure became brittle. Now the source of the weird Halloween atmosphere came slowly down the stairs as a dark shadow.

CYRWAY: Okay, roll for Influence and....

Although it was not visible, the complacent smile on the arrival's lips was clearly felt. In this moment, lightning flashed through the clouds and lit up the scenario for a ghostly instant.

BROOKLYN: *glares at Gecko and Cyrway.* Don't say it...don't say it...

CYRWAY: Funny how some Christian sects don't allow free thinkers.

BROOKLYN glares at her.

Just enough time for the speakers' eyes to meet. Justine looked for a fatal part of a second into Magic's eyes and was paralysed at once, no longer able to speak.

GECKO: Influence works on weak-minded sheep.

CYRWAY: Funny how Christians are referred to as sheep in the Bible.

BROOKLYN: *groans and sinks into his seat.* We are so going to get into trouble because of you too.

She stood in the hall as if hypnotized, waiting like a rabbit for the snake.

CYRWAY: And thus not only demoralizing Christians but pagans in the process.

Ivy took a deep breath. She heard the silent energetic rustle that crackled over the floor. Every hair on her body bristled.

Now, Justine and her sister stood face to face. So close that the paralysed Justine could feel Magic's breath on her face as the latter whispered in a hissing way:

GECKO: *Jesus from The Great Lebowski* "Don't screw with the Jesus..."

"That would be the first case of self-temptation that I've ever heard of.

CYRWAY: Another point of demonizing pagans.

And now..." Sudden and violent the whisper changed into a thunder. "... Leave my house!"

BROOKLYN: It's about time!

Faster than the eye could see, Justine disappeared through the front door. That it had started to rain cats and dogs did not stop her panicky flight. All she wanted was to get away!

CYRWAY: It's Wiccans like her that made me convert to Judeo-Christian Paganism.

GECKO: That and the chick who wanted you to teach her how to do offensive magic. I remember her.

CYRWAY: Last I heard, she became a God-fearing Baptist.

Ivy hit the light switch and normal brightness lit up the house again. She looked at her sister, her sister looked at her. Their grins became wider and wider until they burst out laughing.

BROOKLYN: That wasn't funny!

CYRWAY: I didn't think so either.

BROOKLYN: You were heckling religion!

"Great show, oh Mistress of the Dark!" Ivy laughed. "I think you got rid of her once and for all."

GECKO: And you call yourself a friend.

"Except if she returns with an exorcist tomorrow..." Magic considered. "If Jesus knew what kind of fanatics he has among his fans he'd convert to Buddhism... Why couldn't the gal simply accept that I adapt to the Christian religion as a dolphin adapts to the desert?"

CYRWAY: Why can't you accept the fact that there are those who misrepresent Christianity like some people misrepresent pagan religions?

She dropped herself against the wall, sighing. Ivy critically studied her sister.

BROOKLYN: Should I call Leslie Neilsen?

"You look better now," the younger sister said slowly. "Not so chewed up anymore."

GECKO: Heckling holy rollers does that sometimes.

"Did a few breathing exercises at the open window," the older one answered. "Never underestimate the effect of fresh air."

CYRWAY: And antagonizing holy rollers.

The strange thing about the energy flow she kept to herself. Nevertheless, she was very certain that Mystery had somehow noticed it. However, it was too soon for explanations.

GECKO: Mainly because she doesn't want to go into detail right now.

She did not know the whys and wherefores herself.

Ivy's wolf-like eyes focused her thoughtfully.

"Big sister," the younger said slowly. "Once, the name 'Magic' embodied what you'd like to be. Somehow I have the feeling, it embodies now what you are..."

BROOKLYN: I think that has been made abundantly clear.

"Maybe..." Magic smiled mysteriously.

She glanced out of the window. It was still pouring cats and dogs.

GECKO: Crap! I stepped in a poodle.

"Excuse that I'm gonna throw you out regardless of the rain," she continued, "but I really have to carry out something important."

BROOKLYN: And she doesn't want her little sister pestering her.

"It's all right, big sister!" Ivy grinned. "I'm gonna beat it. I'm not made of sugar. Just one thing: why does Justine call you 'Magret'? She should have known your given name from school."

CYRWAY: You mean "weirdo?"

"She believes it was my middle name, and 'Mag' was its abbreviation," Magic answered. "And since she is so orthodox, she has the opinion that it is more appropriate to use the complete Christian name."

GECKO: Like Amelia.

CYRWAY: It's Amy. Just Amy.

GECKO: Not Amy Kate?

CYRWAY: Oh, Heero....

GECKO is sniped from the rafters.

CYRWAY: Thank you, Heero!

With "She's goooofy!", roaring laughter, and her sister's most favorite umbrella, Ivy bounced out of the house right afterwards.

Magic watched the door as it snapped into the lock. This time she decided to lock it up. She could not afford any further interruptions.

BROOKLYN: Wouldn't want the Jehovah's Witnesses to come by for tea.

CYRWAY: The Mormons are actually fun to talk to.

Shortly afterwards, she dragged herself up the stairs again. Her mood was down to zero.

She was not able to detect the Transformers' whereabouts by hacking into Bishoph's computer system.

GECKO: Hey! It's the script to next week's RAW!

CYRWAY: How is she able to hack into a sophisticated mainframe with a personal computer?

This high tech monster with its super security programs was very amused by her dinosaur PC's attempts to get access to its data banks.

BROOKLYN: That much is obvious.

The little hacking she had learned from Gunnar was not much helpful in this case.

GECKO: You can only learn so much from a Trekkie.

If Megatron was only awake! Together they would possibly be able to outwit the system.

CYRWAY: Slot that! We need Perceptor!

But she on her own... Oh, scrap! There had to be a way!

She dragged herself into the computer room, looked despairingly at her PC and its connection to the telephone line then dropped herself heavily into the office chair.

BROOKLYN: *falsetto* I'm switching to DSL.

CYRWAY: To defend dial-up, she doesn't have to worry about telemarketers.

She had a slight feeling about the direction where she had to search. Probably it would have been best if she just had taken Pentacle and had driven on until she found Megatron... Nonsense, imbecile idea! The direction was too vague: she would have to search half of the United States.

She kicked the empty cookie box so that it flew into the waste basket. Then she took the small, gray Actionmaster figure from the shelf, looked at it, and caressed carefully the lifeless plastic.

CYRWAY: At least now you have a token of your one night stand.

BROOKLYN: And then she gives birth to a toaster oven.

"I don't want to lose you, Megatron."

CYRWAY: *groans* I think I'm going to be sick.

Wet traces came from her eyes, running down the cheeks. Decepticons never surrendered - and neither would she!

BROOKLYN: Wait a minute...what's with the retreating then?

CYRWAY: Tactical advances to the rear.

Decepticons...? Of course - that was her mistake!

BROOKLYN: Getting involved with those cutthroats! Of course!

The entire time she had tried to manage the problem by using terrestrial techniques, and in this case Bishoph was superior. Yet she had the possibility to use much higher sophisticated tools that were not of Earthan origin, although she had to lump together her complete computer knowledge to get access to them somehow. This special system had no access to the regular network.

CYRWAY: Company Intranet, duh.

There was a light appearing at the end of the tunnel. Magic hoped that this time it was not the train...

GECKO: *stirring* I wake up to a sucky Metallica reference. Wonderful.

For three hours she had been sitting in front of her PC, had hunted data criss-cross through the network, had smuggled it through sundry security codes to finally build up access to a usable satellite connection. The keyboard had already overheated. Just one more button to push...

The Decepticon insignia appeared on the screen.

BROOKLYN: So she found Stormy's final thesis paper.

"Yeah!" Magic cheered. She had gotten access to the main computer of Decepticon headquarters!

CYRWAY: Then her hard drive crashes.

"NO CEREBRAL ACCESS DETECTABLE. INPUT RESULTS FROM UNUSUAL SOURCES. EXPlANATION:" appeared on the screen.

GECKO: You were programmed by rhebus monkeys on crack.

"SAFETY MEASURE. CEREBRAL ACCESS MOMENTARY TOO DANGEROUS," Magic typed as answer.

"Hopefully you accept the explanation, sweety," she murmured, while she was waiting for her electronic caller to respond.

"EXPLANATION ACCEPTED. ACCESS CODE:," it appeared white on purple.

CYRWAY: Langley's stumped...we need Kimmy's help!

Okay, no mistakes now. What had Megatron taught her? She started to type.

ALL THREE: S...N...A...D...

Waiting...

"ACCESS CODE OF HIGHEST PRIORITY! NEED PERSONAL ID-CODE:"

Well...

She gave the computer Megatron's ID pattern,

ALL THREE: "Starscream...is...a...bitch...."

and the system reported:

"IDENTIFICATION VERIFIED. UNLIMITED ACCESS TO ALL DATA FILES!"

CYRWAY: Only in a fangirl fanfic.

"Excellenteclemente!" Magic uttered a sigh. This hurdle was crossed.

GECKO: Is that like "sicomiconiko?"

Well, browsing through the directory would be pretty senseless.

CYRWAY: She might stumble on Skywarp's collection of porn.

The program she was looking for belonged to Megatron's personal data files and was therefore profoundly hidden inside the system. She did not start searching it, but typed in the name:

"S.E.E.K."

BROOKLYN: Bringing up in detail all the gratuitous acts he had performed on Starscream.

GECKO: A perverted remark from our straight man! Yay!

The next instant, the screen turned black except for a small display that counted down from twenty.

CYRWAY: And then it's going to blow up the world.

Megatron had saved the secret data by a further code. If she did not put in the right key during the next twenty seconds her computer's hard drive would not just be formatted,

GECKO: She just did that twenty minutes ago!

the thing would need extreme unction.

BROOKLYN: "Unction?"

CYRWAY: Spell check's not picking it up.

But she knew the word too well:

"M..."

...16...

"...A..."

...15...

"...G..."

...14...

"...I..."

...13...

"...C"

CYRWAY: Like no baseline hacker with a word scanner couldn't figure that out.

The countdown stopped, the image on the screen changed again, and written in capitals appeared:

"SPECIFIC ENERGY EMISSION KEYS."

GECKO: *farts* How's that for energy emission?

Magic leaned back, breathing deeply at first. She looked at the small plastic action figure that had now bean placed aside the monitor.

"You're a crazy old hound, Megatron! Which is why I love you."

CYRWAY: The four letter "l" word. How I loathe it.

'Specific Energy Emission Keys', 'S.E.E.K.' for short, was a supervision program. Supported by data which was collected by energy sensors hidden within the headquarters it was able to locate every Decepticon and to note what he was doing. This supervision system was - other than the normal camera system - only known by Megatron himself.

BROOKLYN: And Skywarp, who was looking for Megatron's diary.

It was a measure that served his personal security. It could be whatever it was needed to be. Maybe prove that a kind of paranoia was the industrial disease of every dictator. What was for sure, S.E.E.K. contained a list of all individual energy emission patterns of all Decepticons that were on Earth. That was the socks the blood-hound had to sniff to be able to find the trail. Now she needed the hound...

GECKO: But he's an Autobot!

Very quickly the main computer found an espionage satellite in geo stationary orbit

CYRWAY: There's a contradiction.

to access which was appropriate for their purposes.

"Well, well," Magic grinned as she got the information about the artificial celestial body. "And our dear government tries to make us believe, that this is just to observe the weather conditions..."

BROOKLYN: A combination of X-Files and Transformers is bad, mmmkay?

CYRWAY: Long Live the Lone Gunmen!

Now the search could start: the satellite was scanning the planet's surface.

GECKO: Amazing those things can pinpoint someone taking a shower.

Again she had to wait.

CYRWAY: So do we...WHERE'S THE FIGHTING?!

*INTERLUDE 6*

STARSCREAM, now in a Generation One/War Within shell, is in the engine room, working on a contraption that seems to be the actual engine.

STARSCREAM: I can't believe I am stuck doing menial labour such as fixing a piecemeal mockery of a transwarp drive...this is beneath me!

A beeping is heard behind him, and Starscream looks over his shoulder, finding himself face to face with a tiny Minicon, Runway.

STARSCREAM: *groaning* I thought we got rid of all you pesky little creatures! *Swipes at Runway, who darts to the side.* Stand still so I may smite you, insect!

More beeping from all around him sounds out, and more Minicons venture forward, all staring up at Starscream, specifically the Spce Minicon Team and the Air Defense Minicon Team.

STARSCREAM: Be gone! *Panicked, he throws his wrench at them.* I said leave! Obey me, or I shall eradicate each and every one of you!

Swindle beeps cutely, then ventures over and gives Starscream's leg a hug.

STARSCREAM: NO! BEGONE! *Shakes his leg, trying to get the red and black Minicon off.* Damn you! Off! Now!

ARTEMIS: *over the intercom* Yo, exhaust head!

STARSCREAM: *groans again.* Just one more thing to make my life even more of a painful existence...what do you want, wench?

ARTEMIS: We need more hands in the med lab who know what they're doing. Unfortunately, you fit the criteria.

STARSCREAM: I'm busy fixing the engine! *Gives his leg another shake, but Swindle is holding on firmly.* Not now, Swindle! Get off me! *Now Runway and his brothers are climbing on top of him as Astroscope, Payload, and Skyblast attach themselves to his arms and remaining leg.* No! Off! Now! I'll blast you all to atomic particles if you don't leave me alone this instant!

ARTEMIS: Are you playing with the Minicons again, Starscream?

STARSCREAM: No! I'm trying to get rid of them!

ARTEMIS: Okay, boys, leave Unca Screamer along so he can do something remotely productive.

The Minicons all let out a collective beep and slink back into the shadows, leaving Starscream in a somewhat bewildered state.

ARTEMIS: Sometimes you need to know how do deal with situations. Get back to work on the propulsions.

STARSCREAM: You don't tell me what to do, wench! *Storms off, adding in a defiant tone.* I'm going to the med lab!

ARTEMIS: *under her breath* Why haven't I killed him yet, Primus?

9.

The humming of the electronic devices filled the air - the song of modern technique underscored by the diodes' colorful opalescence and LCD displays. Oh, how he loved all these - he, the one in the white overalls. This was his world, his art, his opus.

GECKO: Good thing...his Bill the Cat hocks up hairballs.

Half a dozen women and men in starched smocks walked busily here and there between all the machinery, analysing, assessing, calculating.

CYRWAY: And picking wedgies.

All were highly intelligent human beings, scientists.

GECKO: And closet porn stars.

But none of them was an intellectual match for him.

BROOKLYN: Save for Chris Norinsky.

They all were destined to serve him with their knowledge.

CYRWAY: I shall eat their brains!

Or should he say, they were condemned to serve him?

GECKO: Should have read the fine print on the contract where it said, "Forfeit your soul."

CYRWAY: Maybe we should have sent Justine this way.

He was the conductor of this concert - he decided about the melody and rhythm, he chose the instruments to play.

BROOKLYN: Although Hawkwind beat him to the violin in space rock.

He controlled everything; even their thoughts belonged to him!

CYRWAY: All your thoughts are belong to us.

Power! Sensation flooded through his body.

BROOKLYN: Megatron's human double.

"Dr. Bishoph, we've analysed the part now. It's unbelievable, isn't it?"

GECKO: It's the perfect bagel!

CYRWAY: Bagels?

A small, skinny man with an aquiline nose and sparsely growing hair excitedly came closer. Someone had put him into a smock that was at minimum two sizes too large. In his long slender fingers, which reminded more of spider legs than of fingers,

CYRWAY: And here's Tarantulus's human counterpart.

GECKO: Tarantulus was a fat bastard.

he held a futuristic-looking, nearly cubic object of about ten centimeters' length.

ALL THREE: It's the Cybernet space cube!

First, the man in the white overalls looked at the object, then he looked condescendingly at the bearer.

BROOKLYN: You brought me a Rubik's cube.

Oh, his thoughts were a open book to him!

GECKO: "Don't close it before it's done!"

HEERO snipes him.

"So, Nathan, parts like this make it possible to reduce their size," the telepath noticed without any surprise.

CYRWAY: They stole that from Perceptor!

Formerly, shortly after he had quit his professorship at the Boston University to work for Benedict Bishoph,

BROOKLYN: Smart move. Professors get paid crap.

Nathan Paul had been shocked by his boss' unusual gift.

CYRWAY: The two dozen roses and bottle of champagne freaked him out.

But meanwhile he had become familiar with the mind reading.

BROOKLYN: Quick! Think of They Might Be Giants songs!

He also had gotten familiar with the fact that the six foot tall, slender man treated him like a dog.

CYRWAY: Yep. Megatron as a human.

That was the privilege of a genius. Without a doubt, he admired Dr. Bishoph.

CYRWAY: Then he really isn't that smart, now, is he?

Dr. Paul rubbed his nose, and started to explain: "This device generates a field which causes the space that every single atom needs to increase or decrease according to the need, doesn't it?

CYRWAY: Wait a minute...this goes beyond all physics...

BROOKLYN: And magic doesn't?

At the same time, to compensate the resulting tensions with surrounding G-fields, it shields against gravitation proportional to the volume decrease."

BROOKLYN: What?

CYRWAY: Transparent aluminum.

BROOKLYN: Couldn't Soundwave already do that?

"This way their weight gets less while the mass is staying constant when they become smaller," Bishoph speculated. "Clever!"

BROOKLYN: What?

CYRWAY: Mass and Weight are relative. Any freshman physics class can tell you that.

"Isn't it?" Dr. Paul nodded.

BOTH: Not really.

He turned the cube back and forth between his spider fingers.

CYRWAY: Almost...solved...the....Rubik's...cube...

"How the weight increase in case of enlargement works, we still don't know,"

CYRWAY: The increase of weight is relative to mass. IE: Aluminum and Gold are both elements, but the gold atom is heavier.

GECKO: *gets back up into his seat.* She's doing it again, isn't she?

CYRWAY: This is why I research when I write fics. Last thing I want is someone like me to nitpick my fics.

the small man continued his explanations. "This Decreaser - that is what we call the device -

GECKO: Because we have no originality....

we could dismantle for analysis. It seems to be added to the system later, doesn't it? The other Decreasers and Increasers are integrated firmly.

GECKO and BROOKLYN look for CYRWAY for an explanation, who just shrugs.

We nearly had to completely disassemble the machines to reach them. And this you don't want, do you?"

BROOKLYN: Why the hell not?

No, this Bishoph did not want - not yet.

ALL THREE: Why the hell not?

He still needed his 'guests' functional, at last for a while.

GECKO: They haven't stopped entertaining him yet.

But this Decreaser gave him an idea. Perhaps it was useful for something...

CYRWAY: Thinly veiled foreshadowing and clutch.

Darkness -

GECKO and CYRWAY: "Imprisoning me! All that I see, absolute horror!"

Suddenly he became aware of it. Confused, he activated his optic systems. The image was poorly focused. Probably caused by the fact that his central processor had only slowly started to work again.

BROOKLYN: It never worked to begin with.

He tried to remember... to remember who he was,

GECKO: An evil tyrant.

where he was,

CYRWAY: On a backwater planet.

and what had happened.

BROOKLYN: Written as a love interest by a fangirl.

He heard a voice,

GECKO: *Unicron* "Megatron....I have summoned you here for a purpose..."

actually he felt it,

BROOKLYN: Unicron's mentally slapping him right now.

but he could not yet catch the meaning of words.

CYRWAY: The universal translator's glitching again.

However, its presence caused pleasant emotions,

GECKO: Ah, a drug high!

its sound caressed his soul, letting yeaning for nearness rouse him.

CYRWAY: More mushy stuff. Yuck.

Slowly the stunning mist crept out of his mind and the words made sense:

ALL THREE: "You're a big, big meanie and I don't like you!"

Megatron...? Megatron, can you understand me?

ALL THREE: Nope.

M... Magic?

CYRWAY: Negative-negative-negative!

Yes! Oh, it's so good to hear you, beloved!

CYRWAY sinks into her seat.

I've missed you so badly!

GECKO: You poor, deluded soul.

It was so good to feel her soul! He felt her relief, she had been very worried about him.

CYRWAY whimpers.

GECKO: Don't worry, it will be over soon. *Under his breath* Hypocrite.

CYRWAY punches him.

And he felt how exhausted she was...

Magic, what happened to you?

I've been trying to find you and the others for days now...

For days? He opened his mind to the flood of her memories. Cybertron..!

GECKO: *Shockwave* Megatron...we have destroyed the Autobot femmes and all other resistance!

Suddenly he became aware of his environment. Like being harshly ripped out of drunkenness caused by too much energon the first nebulous pictures burned in horrifying clarity into his cerebral systems.

BROOKLYN: *as Megatron* I'm in a fangirl fic!

He was a prisoner!

CYRWAY: Same diff.

Chained to the wall by a semi-paralysing field,

GECKO: And Nightbird's the dominatrix for this evening...

he stood in a round hall of more than a hundred meters in diameter and more than twenty meters in height. In the cruel existing silence, the dome's architecture, huge girders of steel and unpolished metal walls which were only slightly illuminated by the orange light of a thin circle of lamps, reminded him of a Cybertronian crypt.

GECKO: All we need is the Cryptkeeper laughing maniacally.

BROOKLYN: Starscream will do.

GECKO: *laughs like Krusty the Clown again.*

CYRWAY punches him.

But he was not on Cybertron, he was on Earth.

CYRWAY: Bugger you.

Megatron was not alone.

BROOKLYN: Starscream and Optimus Prime also had a fangirl following.

Other Transformers stood in regular intervals along the wall. The flickering of bluish discharges he saw from time to time showed that they also were caught in a semi-paralysing field.

GECKO: Good, he's not alone.

He tried to move an arm - nothing happened. The field stopped every movement up to the neck.

CYRWAY: It paralysed all brain function.

Nevertheless he tried it again. He put all his will into the action but all he could manage was a slight twitching in his fingers.

BROOKLYN: And yet this fic is really making us twitch--how ironic.

A well-known voice appeared in his central processor, saying:

GECKO: *Mr. Garrison* I'm not gay!!!

"I tried that myself before, Megatron. It's just wasting energy."

Megatron turned his head, the only thing that could moved without restriction, to look right into the soft gleaming optics of his communications officer.

"Soundwave!" Megatron whispered, not without a certain relief about the other still being alive.

CYRWAY: Being that Soundwave is the mother of his children, I can understand that.

BROOKLYN: You've been reading Dylan's improv again, haven't you?

As he turned his gaze to the right he could see something more, or better, he could not see it anymore - his fusion cannon was gone!

GECKO: No shit--you think they'll let you keep that?

That was a fact that definitely did not help to cheer up his increasingly deteriorating mood.

CYRWAY: Bugger you.

"What... What happened?" someone asked to his left, confused.

BROOKLYN: We were captured by missionaries who are in hopes of invading Cybertron to spread the word of God.

CYRWAY: Now who's insulting organized religion?

So the Autobots were here as well...

"Welcome to the mortuary of the living, Prime," the Decepticon leader sarcastically greeted his old opponent.

GECKO: So what are they going to do, verbally assault one another?

BROOKLYN: I thought that was commonplace.

"Megatron, what...?" Optimus Prime started, but the other interrupted him:

"Before you ask: no, this did not escape my cerebral circuits. I am a prisoner myself..." Megatron looked along the row. "... exactly like the rest of my and your people."

CYRWAY: *deadpan* They're the same people...

Now, blue and red optics started to flicker everywhere. They slowly regained consciousness. Bit by bit, voices like "What does this mean?,"

GECKO: You're all idiots!

"Let us go at once!,"

CYRWAY: Idle demand!

"Where are we?,"

BROOKLYN: In a fangirl fanfiction!

"Is there anyone?"

ALL THREE: Just us hecklers!

rose to chaotic babble. Utterances caused by complete disorientation. The desultory calling was followed shortly afterwards by the usual cannonades of blaming each other.

CYRWAY: Yes! Let us verbally assault one another!

This happened not only between the opponent groups but also within a faction. Especially Starscream took the opportunity since his leader could not do anything.

GECKO: At least something was done right.

But it all was of no use, so the entire noise faded into depressed mumbling.

CYRWAY: *as Starscream* The world is a dark and lonely place...

"Obviously our argumentation doesn't lead to the preferred success. Therefore I propose that we summarize the facts together to analyse our actual situation which could indeed be called unfortunate," Perceptor's voice could be heard from the other side.

ALL THREE: Shut the hell up, Professor!

"Fact number one, we stand at a wall," Huffer grumbled in a sullen way.

CYRWAY: *Huffer* Why must I whine like Starscream? Why, Prime, why?

"Yeah," Skywarp confirmed. "And fact number two, we can't move."

GECKO: Wow--Skywarp made an intelligent observation.

"That is caused by paralysing fields that surround us," Perceptor replied. He was absolutely not able to understand that his proposal, which was absolutely logically thought over, could be so stupidly realized like by those two.

BROOKLYN: You're not the only one, Prof.

"Fact number three, Autobots as well as Decepticons are imprisoned here," Bumblebee remarked.

GECKO: Nondiscrimatory villians.

"I have noted that already, Autobot!" Starscream hissed.

CYRWAY: Stop stating the obvious, infidel!

Megatron looked at him, a derisive smile on his lips.

"But, other than you, he obviously is able to get a conclusion out of this fact," the Decepticon leader noted. The small Autobot seemed to be thinking in the right direction.

ALL THREE start blinking noisily.

"If both groups are captured here," Bublebee continued. "Who did lock us up?"

"No Transformer," Thundercracker confirmed. "But who?"

GECKO: *Cartman voice* Chained to a wall by a one fangirl...turned into a featherduster with freckles...

CYRWAY hits him.

Suddenly and completely without warning, the hall was mercilessly drawn out of its darkness and lit up in glistening brightness.

GECKO: Wake and bake!

The light came so unexpectedly and with such perverse intensity that it burned painfully into their optical circuitry. The imprisoned Cybertronians were blinded for a few seconds. A low hum inside the walls indicated that heavy, hydraulic systems had begun to work inside of them. As result, about fifteen meters above the floor, a platform of sixteen square meters slipped out of the wall. A person dressed in white overalls stood on it.

CYRWAY: Where's Elita One and her special power when you need it?

Behind him, formerly hidden by the gloomy twilight, shone the gigantic logo of the chess-board and the black bishop.

BROOKLYN: *deadpan* And the plot thickens to the consistancy of Bud Light.

"I started to fear no-one would ask the question," the person remarked with a complacent undertone. "As far as I can see, all my guests have woken up..."

CYRWAY: It's like a bad Bond movie!

GECKO: Ah, Roger Moore has graced us with his presence, I see.

CYRWAY: Cannonball Run!

"Guests? Not what I understand of hospitality..." Ironhide grumbled.

BROOKLYN: However, the Decepticons are completely at home.

"He's right!" Scrapper mentioned.

"Yeah! What does this mean?"

Again a chorus of complaints and accusations started.

CYRWAY: "Carnage in C Minor!" Spare us! Please!

This time turned against the organic creature which was looking down upon the Transformers in a self-satisfied way.

GECKO: *Beast Machines Megatron* And once again, disharmony within the troops proves to be the bane of order, yes...

Bishoph was highly amused.

CYRWAY: But then again, he amuses easily.

GECKO: Until the three minutes are up.

These robots were exactly like humans: how they excited themselves,

GECKO: I bet...

how they behaved. He sensed their emotions, bewilderment, fear, anger, heard their thoughts. But out of a sudden, he was startled, confused. That could not be!

ALL THREE: WE'RE IN THE WRONG FIC!!!

It had been apparent to him that another telepath like Soundwave was able to withstand a mental intrusion, but...

CYRWAY: CypherDoug to the rescue!

GECKO: Isn't that Douglock now?

BROOKLYN: They're not even using that character anymore.

Megatron focused him with glowing optics, and for the first time in his life Bishoph felt uncertain.

ALL THREE: *dryly* Of course...

He was really not able to get into the Decepticon leader's mind. An impenetrable mental wall protected it.

CYRWAY: I still don't understand how any telepath could read a machine.

BROOKLYN: Quick! Stop her before she goes into scientific debate again!

Of course, the man in the white overalls did not show a reaction in any way about the matter. With a condescending expression he looked along the rounded-up captives.

CYRWAY, for no reason whatsoever, starts humming the Invader Zim theme.

"Who are you?

GECKO: The new number 2, who is number 1. You are number 6.

Why do you keep us prisoners?"

BROOKLYN: I collect Transformers. I already have the complete Go-Bot collection.

GECKO: We replaced Leader One with a Minicon, let's see if anyone notices.

Optimus Prime asked with a voice that was able to drown out the babble around him. "We haven't done anything to you!"

GECKO: Well, of course not...it's time the humans are to be the bad guys!

'Not yet...', Megatron added mentally. As soon as he got free Bishoph's last hour would strike!

CYRWAY switches from humming Zim to the melody of "For Whom The Bell Tolls."

Bishoph smiled his complacent smile again.

BROOKLYN: Has constipation gotten the better of you?

"To question number one: my name is Bishoph, Dr Benedict Bishoph," he answered.

GECKO: Robotic Proctologist Extraordinaire.

"To question number two: I need your superior technology."

GECKO: To further the scientific benefits of proctology!

With dreamy eyes

CYRWAY: Ah, the dope kicked in.

GECKO: I thought Alexiel broke Kurai of that habit.

BROOKLYN groans.

he looked up to the ceiling of the steely dome, speaking like a Shakespeare actor:

CYRWAY: "When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

BROOKLYN: "When the hurlyburly's done, when the battle's lost and won."

GECKO: "That will be ere the set of sun."

"This technology means power!

CYRWAY: "Where the place?"

BROOKLYN: "Upon the heath."

GECKO: "There to meet with Macbeth."

The potential to control the entire world!

CYRWAY:"I come, Graymalkin!"

BROOKLYN: "Paddock calls: Anon!"

Maybe even the entire universe..."

ALL THREE: "Fair is foul, and foul is fair; hover through the fog and filthy air."

GECKO: And to this fic, I couldn't give a care.

"Where have I heard this before..."

CYRWAY: It's Shakespeare, you dolt.

"Starscream, keep your synthesizer shut!" Megatron snarled.

GECKO: *Starscream* "To be, or not to be, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer--"

BROOKLYN: That's just so wrong.

GECKO: *continues* "--The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles--"

HEERO snipes him yet again.

His second in command aimed at shooting beyond the mark again!

CYRWAY: He shot his foot again, didn't he?

BROOKLYN: And his mouth, but when is that not normal.

But on the other hand he was not absolutely wrong... A slight grin appeared on the Decepticon leader's lips. He knew too well the enemy's way of thinking. Perhaps he could use this foundation to build up his strategy.

BROOKLYN snorts.

"Bishoph! I want to make you an offer!" Megatron called up the platform.

CYRWAY: We give you the Autobots and you let us go!

The doctor glanced him a look that said: "Explain yourself!"

The Decepticon leader's voice turned extremely gentle: "It is obvious that both of us have the same interest, Dr. Bishoph, and... the same opponents, the Autobots..."

He gave his words time to have an effect.

ALL THREE check their watches.

"I have to admit with appreciation that you've finally done what I've failed to fulfil for eons: to defeat my enemies. I'm aware of being in a disadvantageous position for negotiations. However - I'd like to offer you an alliance between you and the Decepticons..."

BROOKLYN: And it turns out that Dr. Bishoph was a fan of the G1 cartoon and was well aware of the Decepticons' ploy.

CYRWAY: Clearly he's seen this episode.

"Why do you think I should accept your offer?" Bishoph asked.

CYRWAY: Why should I trust anyone who calls themselves "Decepticons?"

"What could you give me that I can not get by myself?"

Confound it! Why wasn't he able to read Megatron's mind?

BROOKLYN: You have to have a mind first before you can read it.

"Very much," Megatron replied with a diabolic smile.

GECKO: *returns to his seat.* Oh yeah? Prove it!

"No matter how long you study our technology and that of our weaponary you will only have a fraction of what Cybertronian ingenuity could offer you... Only a fraction of the power you could hold in the palm of your hands! We, as your allies, could give the rest to you..."

CYRWAY: I've heard it all before...

"And for what reason should you do me this favor?" his negotiation partner wanted to know.

"Let's call it... gratitude," the Decepticon leader said. "For our release and for getting rid of this Autoscrap!"

ALL THREE: Riiiiiight.

"Such an offer could only be made by a Decepticon!" Prowl's voice rose.

"Megatron, you miserable creation of a scrap yard rat!" Ironhide yelled. "Wait until I get my hands on you!"

GECKO: And you expected him to be loyal to you just because you're stuck in the same prison? Autobots are stupid!

The Decepticon leader ignored these insults and those that followed. It was good that the Autobots reacted that way. That made things more believable! They didn't need to know that he had never thought of feeding any Transformer to this organic scrap press.

CYRWAY: You've got to be kidding me.

Still, with a false smile on his lips, he waited for the answer of the true enemy, the one in the white overalls.

BROOKLYN: Optimus Prime is your enemy! The humans are your enemy! Starscream is your enemy! The entire universe is your enemy!

GECKO: I can't believe we're cheering the bad guys.

CYRWAY: Who are the bad guys again?

Pearls of sweat appeared on Bishoph's forehead. No matter how heard he tried, the mental wall stayed impenetrable!

CYRWAY: Then slot the mind reading scrap and use common sense! God, people get used to their powers so easily. And you have the nerve to call yourself a genius.

Yes, the possibility to learn more about Cybertronian technique was intriguing, but he couldn't trust Megatron.

GECKO: At least he knows something.

He could only run the risk if he was able to know in advance what the Decepticon was really planning.

CYRWAY: Common sense, common sense....cripe, one big rule of writing fanfiction: never create a character smarter than you!

If he could only force his way into his mind!

GECKO: *monotone* A mental mind fuck would be nice....

CYRWAY: *whimpers and bites her lip on continuing "Planet Schmanet Janet."

Megatron did not realize Bishoph's despairing, telepathic trials.

But Soundwave was able to sense that something was wrong. He had noticed before that the organic creature had scanned them with psi-waves and he had shielded his mind in the usual way against them. However, within the last 0.3 kAsecs, the radiation's intensity had increased about fifteen times. That meant, it reached a level that could cause difficulties for him to withstand, even with his expertise.

BROOKLYN: Oh, the main character can never have any weaknesses.

But he was not the target of the intrusive trials. Someone else caused that the fleshy telepath's cerebral systems were about to overheat. But who?

CYRWAY whimpers again.

GECKO: You know you want to....

BOTH: *standing and belting out the lyrics to "Flaming Telepaths"* "Yes I know the secret of the iron mind! It's a flaming wonder telepath!"

With all due caution, the communications officer opened his mental shield and started to scan by himself. He discovered the unbelievable: Megatron! He was Bishoph's target.

Soundwave did not need to know more. He withdrew behind his mental barricades again.

BROOKLYN: Soundwave was always the shy one.

It had been clear to him that a strong will

GECKO: ...or had They Might Be Giants playing in his head...

like the Decepticon leader's was not easy to breach by the psi-talented, but he had not expected such resisting power.

BROOKLYN: Like Bow-Flex.

CYRWAY: "Bow-Flex is real. The results are real. The question is..."

GECKO: Are you real?

BROOKLYN: Fictional characters!

He felt that Megatron's aura had changed since they had been reactivated. It seemed as if the Decepticon leader was not alone...

Suddenly the intense psi radiation stopped. Bishoph turned back to his self-satisfied attitude; he had come to a decision.

BROOKLYN: It was useless to scan something without a brain.

GECKO: And then he realised he was trying to scan Starscream all this time.

Megatron's mind was a fortress, the Decepticon too dangerous - so he would continue as planned. However, he still would get a bit more information, so that other spirits could not built shields against him!

"I have to disappoint you, my dear Megatron," he said with artificial sympathy, giving the other a pityting smile.

CYRWAY: But the human is smarter than you.

"But I am going to limit it to the analysis. Maybe..." He turned around about to leave. "... I'll even scrutinize you first. You seem to have much resisting power... An interesting challenge!"

GECKO: He shall return for you, Mr. Bond.

Megatron's features darkened. He fiercely set his jaw plates. From somewhere he heard a malicious: "He deserves it!"

BROOKLYN: Was that an Autobot....or Starscream?

CYRWAY: It's Soundwave throwing his voice.

"Just one more question, Dr. Bishoph," Perceptor announced. "If you planned to analyse our technique, why the expenditure, which seems to be illogical to me, to reactivate us again?"

GECKO: Then there wouldn't be a plot, as thin as it is!

The man in the white overalls did not respond. Instead he turned his back to the Transformers without a word and left the dome through a door that was directly