The Veiled Threat by Alan Dean Foster Read Free Book Online

concern for humans?” Knockout was nothing if not impulsive in his questioning. “I understand that they helped you in the fight against Megatron, but surely a few lives among their swarming billions will not be missed.”
    “You are newly come here, Knockout.” Optimus delivered the mild rebuke without rancor. “Humans—that is to say, most humans—mourn every organic life lost, sometimes even those that are not of their species. They keep smaller, less intelligent organics close to them and lament their passing with equal and sometimes greater intensity than they do their own kind.”
    Knockout sounded dubious. “A strange species with which to ally ourselves.”
    “This is a path we did not choose,” Optimus told him, “but was chosen for us. To fail to protect the humans from the likes of Starscream would be to abrogate our responsibilities as sentient beings.”
    “Pardon me if I roll out on that.” Collapsing back upon himself, Knockout once again assumed the form of the motorcycle he had chosen. With a parting rumble, he vanished down the empty access corridor that lay off to the right, the thunder of his engine echoing around the great chamber for some time after he had left.
    “A bit rebellious, for an Autobot.” Ratchet voiced the observation from where he was working. “We will need to keep an eye on that one.”
    “Knockout will be fine.” Salvage admired the medical specialist’s work. “He’s just enthusiastic, that’s all. Wants to get on with the business of winding up the war.”
    “Yes, the war.” Optimus turned thoughtful. “Always the war. I wish I were certain that it was ‘winding up.’ Nothing in this interminable conflict is assured. Not even the help of the humans.”
    “But you just said—” Salvage began.
    Optimus cut him off. “While those humans who know us regard us as friends and allies, there are those besides the suspicious who actively dislike us. They wish us gone or, failing that, rendered inoperative. Their minds are small and their hearts afraid.” He sighed heavily. “It seems it is always so with organics. But there are also those whom I am convinced would be our friends under any circumstances. You will have the opportunity to meet with them shortly.”
    “Yes,” said the smaller Autobot, Beachbreak, from nearby. “There’s one who while in the water utilizes a supplementary lens to enhance her visual acuity. It is so thick as to render her appearance at such times almost Autobot-like. Though,” he added more thoughtfully, “I am not sufficiently conversant with human mores to say whether or not she would find the comparison flattering.”
    Beachbreak often felt dwarfed by his Autobot colleagues. Standing a little over ten feet tall when in robot mode, he was neither as big nor as powerful as his companions on Diego Garcia. He missed his friendBumblebee, not only due to the fact that they were relatively the same young age and enjoyed similar personalities, but also because Bumblebee did not tower over Beachbreak quite as much as the others.
    Beachbreak had adopted a rather unique alt mode for himself: when in the open, he appeared as a personal watercraft. The Jet Ski he became resembled nothing that would be found at a resort or public beach. With its dark gray, tapered sides and severe profile it perfectly duplicated the small watercraft that had been developed for use by US Navy SEALs and UK commandos. Appropriate, he felt, because although relatively diminutive in size, he did not lack courage. All he wanted was a chance to prove his valor to his companions.
    “There are among them soldiers who take warfare as seriously as us,” Optimus continued. “They have proven to be our most steadfast supporters.”
    This was something Salvage could understand without explanation. “War strips away all suspicion among those who do the actual fighting, and leaves behind only comradeship.”
    Ratchet indicated agreement. “Under such circumstances the