fully justified. On a galactic time scale, Velocitron did not have long to live.
Already they were taking action. Jazz had assembled a team of Velocitronians, led by Blurr’s crew chief, Mainspring, who had agreed to direct their engineering expertise toward the reconstruction of Velocitron’s Space Bridge. Since it was just after Speedia, there was nothing for them to do right away, and as one of them said, “Gets a little monotonous making bots go faster all the time.” Ratchet, Jazz and the Velocitronian team were spending a lot of time at the Space Bridge or consulting the Ark’s archives about it, and according to Jazz, they were making progress.
Word of that progress spread, and the Velocitronians began to understand that the Autobots would not be staying. Soon after Jazz had given his most recent report on the Space Bridge, one of the Velocitronians approached Optimus Prime and said something that took him completely by surprise.
“I want to come with you,” Mainspring said. “I might not be Cybertronian, but I’ve sure never fit in here.”
“Have you asked Override if you can leave?”
Mainspring laughed. “This isn’t that kind of place. I can leave if I want to, and Override won’t care. Only problem is, until you came along there was never any place to go.”
“There still might not be,” Optimus Prime told him. “If you come with us, you might never come back.”
“Fine with me,” Mainspring said. “I don’t know if you noticed this, but if you’re not interested in racing, there’s not much here for you.”
“What are you interested in?” Jazz cut in.
Mainspring shrugged. “Other kinds of machines. Building them, taking them apart. I like to measure things. Especially time. I like to measure time.”
“Then I guess the Ark will have lots of clocks,” Jazz joked. Nobody laughed. “Fine,” he said. “I’m just going to …”
“Right,” said Optimus. “Keep working on that Space Bridge.”
“What are you going to do?”
Optimus Prime tapped the center of his torso, where the Matrix of Leadership was calling him to move. Where, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t know why, either, but the Matrix would reveal its reasons to him in due time. “Before we go, I have a little exploring to do,” he said. “Mainspring, I will talk to Override. And Clocker,if you have no other obligations, I would appreciate a local guide.”
“Let’s go,” Clocker said. Optimus Prime nodded and shifted to alt-form. Clocker did the same, and together they rolled out from Delta, heading south across equatorial Velocitron’s flat expanse of desert plain.
The Matrix was talking to him. Not in words or even in any identifiable pattern of electric impulses along his motor pathways, but communicating somehow, via the medium—thought Optimus Prime, though he had never told anyone this—of the Energon that gave Cybertronians life. He reached the south magnetic pole of Velocitron, a region of jumbled hills and narrow slot canyons. It was one of the few areas on the planet that the Velocitronians had not reconfigured to suit their racing obsession. Optimus wondered why. Surely there had been time to pave and tame this part of the world as well. Had they shied away from it out of some superstition? If so, he wanted to know the story. When he returned to the great tangle of roads at the equator, he would ask. But now he would search.
The search did not last long. At the pole itself Optimus discovered a monolith, pentangular in cross section and towering five times his height. At its base was a group of sigils he recognized from the cover of the Covenant of Primus, though he did not know what they meant. Perhaps only Alpha Trion did. He had no idea why the Matrix had brought him here, and save for the sigils at its base, the monolith’s surface was blank. It was an artifact of the Thirteen, its mystery ageless and impenetrable.Optimus Prime stood before it and waited for a sign.
“Don’t
Already they were taking action. Jazz had assembled a team of Velocitronians, led by Blurr’s crew chief, Mainspring, who had agreed to direct their engineering expertise toward the reconstruction of Velocitron’s Space Bridge. Since it was just after Speedia, there was nothing for them to do right away, and as one of them said, “Gets a little monotonous making bots go faster all the time.” Ratchet, Jazz and the Velocitronian team were spending a lot of time at the Space Bridge or consulting the Ark’s archives about it, and according to Jazz, they were making progress.
Word of that progress spread, and the Velocitronians began to understand that the Autobots would not be staying. Soon after Jazz had given his most recent report on the Space Bridge, one of the Velocitronians approached Optimus Prime and said something that took him completely by surprise.
“I want to come with you,” Mainspring said. “I might not be Cybertronian, but I’ve sure never fit in here.”
“Have you asked Override if you can leave?”
Mainspring laughed. “This isn’t that kind of place. I can leave if I want to, and Override won’t care. Only problem is, until you came along there was never any place to go.”
“There still might not be,” Optimus Prime told him. “If you come with us, you might never come back.”
“Fine with me,” Mainspring said. “I don’t know if you noticed this, but if you’re not interested in racing, there’s not much here for you.”
“What are you interested in?” Jazz cut in.
Mainspring shrugged. “Other kinds of machines. Building them, taking them apart. I like to measure things. Especially time. I like to measure time.”
“Then I guess the Ark will have lots of clocks,” Jazz joked. Nobody laughed. “Fine,” he said. “I’m just going to …”
“Right,” said Optimus. “Keep working on that Space Bridge.”
“What are you going to do?”
Optimus Prime tapped the center of his torso, where the Matrix of Leadership was calling him to move. Where, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t know why, either, but the Matrix would reveal its reasons to him in due time. “Before we go, I have a little exploring to do,” he said. “Mainspring, I will talk to Override. And Clocker,if you have no other obligations, I would appreciate a local guide.”
“Let’s go,” Clocker said. Optimus Prime nodded and shifted to alt-form. Clocker did the same, and together they rolled out from Delta, heading south across equatorial Velocitron’s flat expanse of desert plain.
The Matrix was talking to him. Not in words or even in any identifiable pattern of electric impulses along his motor pathways, but communicating somehow, via the medium—thought Optimus Prime, though he had never told anyone this—of the Energon that gave Cybertronians life. He reached the south magnetic pole of Velocitron, a region of jumbled hills and narrow slot canyons. It was one of the few areas on the planet that the Velocitronians had not reconfigured to suit their racing obsession. Optimus wondered why. Surely there had been time to pave and tame this part of the world as well. Had they shied away from it out of some superstition? If so, he wanted to know the story. When he returned to the great tangle of roads at the equator, he would ask. But now he would search.
The search did not last long. At the pole itself Optimus discovered a monolith, pentangular in cross section and towering five times his height. At its base was a group of sigils he recognized from the cover of the Covenant of Primus, though he did not know what they meant. Perhaps only Alpha Trion did. He had no idea why the Matrix had brought him here, and save for the sigils at its base, the monolith’s surface was blank. It was an artifact of the Thirteen, its mystery ageless and impenetrable.Optimus Prime stood before it and waited for a sign.
“Don’t
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