The Veiled Threat (26 page)

“This meeting has been called to discuss and evaluate the possibility that there might be other terrestrial energy sources we are overlooking that could be exploited by the Decepticons.” The screen behind her dimmed but did not go out. “The floor is open for general discussion.” Her gaze flicked to her left. “Your input is of course desired, Optimus.”

The leader of the Autobots could not smile, but his eyes flickered. “Ironhide says that I do not speak as often or as forcefully as I should. If it seems so, it is only because as leader I am aware that my words
carry added weight. Therefore I consider them carefully before I speak.”

Leaning toward Lennox, Epps whispered. “Wonder if we could change the Constitution so that Autobots could run for president?”

The captain shook his head. “Wouldn’t matter. He’s not US-born.”

As the two soldiers exchanged casual banter, the others seated around the conference table were doing their best to respond thoughtfully to Ariella’s query.

“Solar,” the senior general ventured straightaway.

The notion was immediately shot down by one of NEST’s civilian specialists. “Even if they could manufacture and set up panels with a hundred percent conversion efficiency, they’d never be able to hide the facility. They would have to cover thousands of acres with such panels to come anywhere near generating the kind of power they seem to be looking for.”

“That’s right,” agreed the civilian woman seated next to him. “To acquire that amount of energy before they were exposed they’d pretty much have to access a chunk of the sun directly.” Turning in her chair, she looked over at Optimus Prime. “I’m assuming that neither you nor the Decepticons can do that.”

“Not to my knowledge,” the leader of the Autobots replied. “I should think that tapping stellar fusion directly would mean approaching a star far too close for safety.”

Lennox nodded to himself. While he didn’t know much about solar energy or fusion power, neither did he see Decepticons who could be injured by sabot rounds zooming through and around solar flares.

“Wave power.” The remaining civilian specialist looked around the table. “Unlimited energy and plenty of open, uninhabited ocean to hide in. They could build a generating plant in the middle of the Pacific or the South Indian Ocean and our satellites would probably never pick it up.”

This possibility provoked a brief burst of intense conversation among those present, until Petr finally looked up from his eReader. In the course of the preceding discussion no one had noticed that he had set aside his shell in favor of the device.

“I don’t know amount of energy the Decepticons are after, but calculations say it is possible to acquire a quantity that has been speculated upon through the utilization of wave action.” He tapped his reader.

“Then how the blazes are we going to look out for this?” The general who spoke was clearly perturbed at the prospect. “No matter how many satellites we put up we can’t maintain a continuous watch on every square mile of every ocean.”

“Not necessary to do so.” Looking past the general, the Russian eyed the leader of the Autobots. “Optimus, to accumulate and store decent amount of energy, how long you think Decepticons would have to work at it? They would need to build many stations linked together to avoid detection.”

Optimus had already considered the prospect. “Not too long.”

The second general snapped at the Autobot behind him. “How long is ‘not too long’?”

Optimus regarded the senior officer. “A thousand of your years, perhaps. Possibly two.”

“Isn’t it likely that by then we will have found and
dealt with the last of the Decepticons on Earth?” The other general struggled to mask his exasperation.

Optimus switched his attention to him. “Of course. But that is not the question that was asked.”

Several muted groans echoed around the room. In front, Ariella licked her lips and asked firmly, “Any other thoughts on this matter?” She glanced in Optimus’s direction. “Preferably those that do not involve such far-reaching, at least in human terms, time frames?”

“Just one.”

All eyes turned to Kaminari. “I grew up in a country where a kind of energy the Decepticons are apparently trying to make use of is commonplace. Where people are exposed to it every day. They don’t dwell on the forces that are represented by what they’re seeing. They take pictures of its effects and try to avoid thinking about the enormous energies that are boiling beneath their feet.” Her expression tightened. “That is, unless those forces are unleashed.”

At the far end of the table, Andronov was nodding sagely. “Part of my country is also same. The part, interestingly, that faces yours: Kamchatka. But I doubt that the Decepticons would try to carry out such work on the peninsula. There have been big military bases there for many decades. So much so that satellite surveillance of area is not even necessary because so many locations on the ground already under close military watch.”

Lennox leaned toward Epps and whispered. “What are they talking about?”

“Beats me.” Straightening in his chair, the tech
sought an explanation with his usual subtlety. “Hey! What are you eggheads blabbering about?”

Taking no offense, Kaminari turned to him. “Volcanoes, Sergeant. We’re talking about volcanoes.”

Lennox knew as much about geology as he did about numerology, but in this case detailed knowledge was unnecessary. Everyone knew the power of volcanoes. Back home, even small kids could tell you about Hawaii or Mount St. Helens.

Andronov lent emphasis to the point Kaminari was making. “Is estimated that when the Indonesian volcanic island of Krakatoa blew itself up in 1883, the energy released was equivalent to about two hundred megatons.” He glanced over at Optimus. “I am assuming that is kind of energy that would be adequate to satisfy even Decepticon needs.”

“Your units of measurement are comparatively feeble when translated into Cybertronian terms,” the leader of the Autobots responded, “but yes, that would be enough even when one is speaking in terms of hypothetically renewing a Spark. Again, finding a way to store such energy until it can be used presents a serious problem. But if such power could be accessed, stored, and then delivered elsewhere, it might be enough to revive an extinguished Spark. Or,” he added ominously, “create a great deal of destruction.”

“As did Krakatoa,” Andronov concluded somberly.

Further discussion ensued. One of the generals demanded attention.

“We don’t have to put a satellite over every active or dormant volcano on the planet. A lot of them, like Vesuvius or—what’s that one in southern Italy?”

“Etna,” Andronov supplied helpfully.

“Yes, Etna.” The senior officer’s attention switched to Kaminari. “Or Fuji. Or any volcano in Japan, or the US, or anyplace where there’s a reasonable human population. They won’t require satellite surveillance.” He looked satisfied. “We just have to periodically check out those that lie in obscure places. Africa, I expect, and the Andes, and Siberia.”

Andronov took immediate, if quiet, exception. “No part of my country is obscure. Well,” he corrected himself, “maybe some parts. Is big place. But local watches can be put into effect on ground there also.”

Ariella regarded the assembled. “Anyone else? Any other obvious terrestrial energy sources we’re overlooking?”

“Probably,” Andronov declared, “but if Decepticons could do something like clap hands and generate controlled fusion on a large scale, we would not be having this discussion.”

She nodded. “That’s it, then. In addition to the areas and sources of potential and existing energy we are already monitoring, NEST will coordinate surveillance of all active and dormant volcanoes across the planet.” She looked a last time in Optimus’s direction. “I see only one possible snag. If the Decepticons were inclined to try to make use of volcanic energy, could they do so at depth? Earth has many active volcanoes located in the deep ocean.”

“Especially where continental plates are subducting,” Andronov added as a dazed Lennox could only sit and wonder what the hell the scientists were talking about.

Optimus pondered before replying. “I think it unlikely.
While our bodies are strong enough to survive the pressures encountered at considerable depths, even with the aid of artificial illumination perpetual darkness would make such complex work difficult. Not impossible, but difficult. What
would
inhibit development of such an energy source would be the constant presence of water, which would make welding and other industrial processes difficult. It could be done, but the time and resources required would tax the efforts of a considerable number of Cybertronians.”

Ariella looked satisfied. “I’ll see to it that some existing satellites are reprogrammed to check on the most likely oceanic locations first. And our patrolling submarines can monitor the most likely locations for evidence of unusual activity. Eventually we’ll have every major active volcanic area checked for suspicious activity, including those in the sea.”

Relief and confidence were evident among the conference participants as they exited the room. They felt reasonably sure that they had explored all obvious possibilities. Whether or not the theory of reviving Megatron had any merit, they simply could not allow it to be tested.

Having been built to accommodate large corporate aircraft, the hangar in the southern mountains admitted the sleek jet with ample room to spare. As its engines cooled, it taxied to a halt in the center of the building. Anyone familiar with landing procedures for advanced jet aircraft might have remarked on the complete absence of waiting mechanics, the nonpresence of a refueling tanker, the exceptional smoothness of the fighter’s metal skin, which appeared to have been melted rather than riveted together, and the ease with which the newly arrived craft pivoted inside the hangar so that it was now facing the exit.

The fact that there was no pilot was also notable.

Several minutes passed in deepening silence. Then a small door opened in one side of the hangar and a man in his middle fifties appeared. He was alone, casually but elegantly dressed, white-haired, and with enough of a bulge in the vicinity of his stomach to mark him as an epicure rather than a glutton. His eyes were deep blue and hard, and missed nothing. His fingernails were as neatly manicured as a model’s, and his shoes cost more than most of his fellow Italian citizens made in a year. In defiance of doctors and reason, he was smoking a cigarette that had been
laced with several drops of liquid narcotic. This improved his mood without affecting his perception.

His name was Bruno Carerra, and while much of his wealth was inherited, he had acquired his personal obnoxiousness all by himself.

Taking his own good time he strolled completely around the parked aircraft before returning to the spot where he had started.

“Well, you are as striking in person as the secret reports insisted.”

The fighter jet responded with a clash of virtually frictionless internal mechanisms. Twisting and turning like a ball of expanding aluminum foil, it contorted upward and outward until it had changed itself into a looming, menacing, bipedal shape.

“In order for flattery to have an effect, it must first originate from a source whose opinion is respected,” the hulking figure growled.

“
Ciao
to you, too, Starscream.” Carerra had not retreated, did not flinch. Instead he took a languorous puff on his artfully doped cigarette.

The Decepticon leader leaned closer. “You are not afraid?”

The industrialist shrugged. “What is the worst you can do? Kill me?”

“Humans die sooner than most. You are a conspicuously short-lived species.”

“All the more reason then,” Carerra replied, eyes glittering, “to make the most of what time is available to us.”

This response appeared to satisfy Starscream—at least for the moment. “You have shown exceptional persistence and skill in managing to make contact
with me. I was informed that you have offered to be of assistance in the task of cleansing this world of Autobots.”

Carerra’s head bobbed in a slight nod. “That is correct.”

“You realize,” rumbled Starscream, “that doing so would leave myself and my fellow Decepticons in full control of your planet.”

Carerra let his gaze drift to the view outside the hangar. No casual hikers would find their way to this place. No lost travelers would be allowed to pass beyond the heavily guarded outer perimeter. Any who somehow did manage to find their way in would find it far more difficult to find their way out again.

“Someone has to control it. The present governments do not seem to be doing any better than their predecessors. Perhaps it is time to”—he smiled—“bring in outside consultants.”

Starscream stood back. “You would submit willingly to Decepticon rule?”

“Why not? Much of our civilization is currently directed and controlled by machines, and they’re not even intelligent.”

“You might not care for the kind of rule we would impose.”

Carerra’s expression tightened, and he restrained himself with an effort. “I don’t care for the rule the current governments impose. Most importantly, they don’t include me.”