The Veiled Threat (14 page)

“You were right, Captain! They’re trying to bust the dam.”

“Bust the …?” Horrified realization flushed the Zambian soldier’s face. “Catastrophe! Thousands will die. If the flood of water reaches Cahorra Bassa, the entire Zambezi basin will be washed into the Indian Ocean!”

Andronov was hefting his singular rifle. “If I can get down there I can—”

He was interrupted by a tremendous crash. All eyes went to the crest of the dam.

Racing along the top, Optimus had smashed into the two parked trucks, knocking Macerator sideways and sending the lighter Dropkick spinning. As the latter howled in fury and began to change shape, so did the pickup that had followed the diesel out onto the top of the dam. The smaller Decepticon barely had time to rise on two legs before the black dually assumed the form of Ironhide and slammed into him. As the two skidded down the dam-topping road toward the far gate, the soldiers there scattered in all directions.

Behind the humans, Ratchet had also shifted shape. Stunned by the sight, the soldiers nearby had stopped shooting. There was nothing they could contribute anyway to the battle now raging atop the dam, and their light weapons would do no harm to Payload even if they could shoot with accuracy that deep into the gorge. Having recognized the danger, the Zambian officer had retreated and was trying to regroup his men.

Lennox saw them piling into their vehicles. He shook his head regretfully. “They’ll never get down there in time. And Payload’s on the other side of the river.”

Ratchet had moved up alongside the captain. “I will climb down and engage him.”

Lennox knew he could not stop the Autobot from doing as he pleased, but he felt he had to try. “I’ve seen you in combat, Ratchet. You’re a good fighter—but it’s not your specialty. I don’t think you can take Payload, and I’d hate to lose you.” Having already singled out the largest freestanding structure in the dam administration complex, he started toward it. “Stay here and back up Optimus and Ironhide. Sergeant, Petr, come with me!” As the three men headed for the building, a frowning Kaminari called after them.

“Hey, what about me?”

Lennox half shouted back to her, “Stay with Rachet and Salvage. If any Decepticons try to escape—you know what to do!”

A heavy shell slammed into Optimus’s shoulder. Shrugging it off, he fired repeatedly at Macerator, knocking the now altered enemy backward and over the side of the dam. As the Decepticon grabbed hold of the edge and prepared to pull himself back up, Optimus loomed over him. The Autobot’s right arm transformed into a weapon as ancient and traditional as it was lethal: an enormous shining sword.

“Your time is done, Macerator. You’ve caused enough harm on this innocent world.”

Clinging to the inner dam wall, his body dangling over the sheer four-hundred-foot drop, the Decepticon glared up at his foe. “Not as much as you, Optimus.”

The leader of the Autobots was momentarily taken
aback. “Your cognitive circuitry has been damaged. What you say makes no sense.”

“Megatron and the others came here for the Allspark. Had we been allowed to recover it, we would not be fighting you now and therefore these creatures would not be involved in our battle.”

Sword raised high to catch the sun, Optimus hesitated. What Macerator said was true enough—as far as it went. Megatron had come for the Allspark. Other Decepticons had followed, and likewise the Autobots to prevent them from regaining it. Because of them, this world now found itself unwillingly involved in the ancient war. Much as Optimus wished to ignore them, Macerator’s words resonated.

He stared down at the Decepticon. “I know Megatron. I know all of you. You would not have taken the Allspark and left this world in peace. You would have subdued it and made slaves of its people. Even in the absence of the Allspark, my conscience and that of my friends could not have allowed that.” The great sword descended.

It pierced Macerator’s chest armor, plunging directly into his Spark. The lights in his eyes flashed, then went out. Maintaining its grip even in the absence of direction, one hand of the Decepticon’s decapitated body continued to cling to the edge of the dam. Using his foot, Optimus pried up the metal fingers. They left deep grooves in the concrete as they were snapped backward. Falling free, the body of the dead Decepticon struck the lower curve of the dam once, twice, before sending a geyser of water upward as it struck the calm surface of the lake. The metal
corpse appeared to float there for a moment before sinking swiftly beneath the surface and out of sight.

Far below on the face of the dam a damp stain had appeared at the point where Payload was keeping up a steady fire. A trickle of water appeared, then another.

Having located a service elevator and descended into the depths of the complex, Lennox and his companions were searching frantically for a technician. Their location rendered them unaware of the expanding leak—which was just as well.

“Where the hell did everyone run to?” Clutching his rifle, Lennox scanned the empty rooms. “
Somebody
had to stay behind.”

Those standing on the lookout high above and to one side of the access road finally saw what was going on. It was Kaminari who noticed it first. Her assessment was harsh.

“They’re taking too much time.” A glance over at the dam roadway showed that while Optimus was in the process of finishing off Macerator, Ironhide was still fully entangled with the less robust but more agile Dropkick. “They’re going to be too late. The dam’s going to go, and everyone is
inside
it.”

Ratchet foresaw the impending tragedy at the same time as the human. Turning, he confronted Salvage. The pickup truck had also changed into its robot form.

“Can you throw me?”

Salvage regarded the older Autobot uncertainly. “What?”

“Can you throw me? I am used to patching lesions, though this will be on a somewhat different scale.”

“I don’t underst—yes, I can throw you. But throw you where, and at what?” By way of reply Ratchet raised an arm and pointed. Salvage blinked at him. “You want me to throw you at Payload? I don’t know if I can …”

“Not that far.” Pivoting, Ratchet indicated the expanding weak spot in the dam. “There. Throw me there. If your aim is a little high I can slide down. A little low and I will climb up. Quickly now, before the holes become too large to fix. We must stanch the—bleeding.”

“What is ‘bleeding’?” Salvage was visibly confused.

“A human medical term.” Ratchet extended both arms toward his fellow Autobot. “Just get me as close as you can.”

Kaminari ran up beside him. “You can’t do this, Ratchet. If you stay in one place on the face of the dam you’ll be completely exposed to Payload’s weapons! He’ll be able to concentrate all his fire on you.”

Looking down at her, Ratchet’s voice softened. “Repair is my strong suit, Kaminari. My armor should sustain me against Payload’s fire—for a little while, at least.”

“And then?” she pressed him.

“ ‘Then’ is a relative term, for Autobots as well as humans. Events will determine what happens. But there is no more time. I must act to prevent a greater misfortune than my possible death. As a healer, I cannot stand by and let thousands of humans die.” He
turned back to the waiting, staring Salvage. “Compute carefully, my friend. Mass, angle, and distance.”

Nodding gravely, Salvage took a firm grip on the other Autobot’s wrists. Then he began to spin. Faster and faster. Kaminari hastily retreated. As the increasing centrifugal force lifted Ratchet off the ground, the wind generated by his whirling mass forced her to turn away.

Spinning a fully extended Ratchet around him, Salvage had become a blur. A human athlete would have collapsed in a nauseated heap long before the Autobot had achieved anything close to his current velocity. Shielding her eyes, Kaminari could not imagine how Salvage could even maintain his stance, much less determine the exact moment when to release his compatriot. Like a Greek god heaving an Olympian discus, Salvage let go at the precisely optimum moment and angle.

Flung outward in a soaring arc over the four-hundred-foot-deep gorge, Ratchet seemed to hang in the air for a moment. Then he began to fall, steeling himself for the impact. His entire internal system sustained a shock as he slammed up against the curving face of the dam. A check ran instantly and automatically. To his relief nothing was broken and all his parts remained in working order. Digging feet and fingers into the concrete a hundred feet above the river below, he leaned his head back as far as he could in order to assess his immediate surroundings. The result of Salvage’s throw could not have been better. It stood as a perfect tribute to Autobot ability.

Ratchet had landed directly beside the damaged portion of the dam.

Internal generators went into overdrive. The Autobot’s hand began to glow softly, then more intensely. On contact with him, the leaking water turned to steam, hissing as it rose upward. Straining internally, Ratchet continued to put out more and more excess heat. The outside of his metal body now blazed white hot.

Around him, cracked concrete and the rebar within began to melt and flow, forming a sealed whole that was stronger than the material it replaced. The now molten metal and re-forming building material also sealed the small cracks that had appeared in the dam face. The ominous trickles of water dried up; puffs of steam faded away. Always the healer, Ratchet had halted the nascent structure failure by using internally generated heat to reseal the concrete and metal area beneath him.

Below and on the opposite riverbank, an enraged Payload continued firing steadily. Frustrated in his efforts to crack the dam, he concentrated on trying to hit the hardworking Autobot. First he would terminate the interloper. Then he would resume his assault on the human edifice whose structural integrity Ratchet had managed to temporarily preserve. A surge of satisfaction washed through the Decepticon. Not only would it not take long to conclude the task at hand, but he would have the added pleasure of finishing off one of the hated Autobots as well.

One shell after another slammed into the area around Ratchet. Even as he continued the work of repairing the dam face, he managed to dodge most of them. But not all. He winced when the occasional heavy round detonated against his back. His armor
could only take so much. Nevertheless, he would hold out as long as he could. If he could repair the dam while occupying Payload’s attention, it would give Optimus or Ironhide time enough to intervene.

Someone finally did, but it was not one of the other Autobots.

Deep within the dam control center Lennox, Epps, and Andronov finally encountered a senior technician. Panting hard, Lennox challenged him.

“How come you didn’t flee with the others?”

The white-haired tech adjusted his glasses. “This dam is my pride and the pride of my country. If it goes, so do I.”

Epps was peering out the heavy glass window that ran the length of the room and looked out over the gorge below. Payload had not moved and was continuing to pump shell after shell into the dam face. “He’s still there!”

“Good.” Lennox’s attention had shifted from the technician to the wide, complex console in front of him. “I’ve been in a place like this before but I don’t know how to operate anything here.” He looked over at the elderly tech. “Do you have an emergency release?”

“Emergency …? Yes, certainly, but I cannot even think of triggering such a thing without authorization from Lusaka.”

Standing nearby, Petr raised his rifle. It did not fire bullets and in any case he had no intention of using it on the old man—but the technician didn’t know that.

“Here is authorization, Russian-style. Activate emergency release.”

“Do it now,” Epps added. “As one tech to another,
I’m telling you that it’s the best thing. You gotta do this—fast.”

The senior technician hesitated, his gaze darting between Epps and Lennox. “I take no responsibility for the consequences. There will be damage downriver.”

“There’ll be nothing at all downriver if you don’t,” Lennox told him. “
Do it
.”

Andronov gestured with his weapon. Lips tight, the tech reached for the console and flipped several switches. Green telltales above each switch went to red. The hip-hop bleat of an alarm filled the control room. There followed a moment of further hesitation. The technician raised a protective, transparent plastic cover to expose two red buttons beneath. He pressed one. Lennox knew enough from the time he had spent at Hoover to encourage the tech.

“Both of ’em,” he ordered. With a regretful sigh, the man complied.

His movements restricted by the need to complete his repair efforts, Ratchet felt himself steadily weakening. Another direct hit from Payload’s multiple guns might penetrate his deteriorating armor and split his back. A follow-up shot would tear into his vitals, destroying essential components and interdicting critical circuitry. Nevertheless, he was determined to keep working as long as possible. With the repairs complete, it would force Payload to begin the process of destruction all over again somewhere else.

A rising rumble filled his aural pickups. Had he already suffered a fatal blow, one that was distorting perception of his surroundings? His vision must be going as well, he decided. The blue sky before him, visions of river below flanked by steep hillsides and
green forest, had also disappeared. Now he could see nothing but whiteness.

This is wrong
, he told himself. If his senses were failing, everything should go to black, not white. Nor should the white be in motion. It was then that he recognized what he was seeing. There was nothing wrong with his senses, auditory or visual. What he was seeing above him, in front of him, and all around him, was water. An immense, unrestrained rush of water. And it did not spring from a massive leak or a failure of the dam.

The emergency floodgates had been opened.

Released by the override, thousands of tons of water burst from Kariba’s two floodgates directly above the Autobot. Under pressure from the enormous lake behind them, the twin discharges shot an incredible volume of liquid into the narrow canyon below. Sweeping up trees and sand and huge boulders before it, the man-made flood thundered down the gorge.