"Redemption"  Part 4
by Ivy Bohnlein


     The door slid back and he looked up, hope leaping into his throat.
But instead of Arcee, Whiz stepped into the office.  As hard as he
tried to hide his disappointment, it must have showed.
     "I came to check on you," she said flatly, "I guess I wasn't what
you expected."
     "I'm sorry, Whiz."  He sighed.  "I just... things didn't go the way I
had hoped."
     Her face softened immediately, an expression that most of the other
Cybertronians wouldn't recognize.  "So I'd guessed."
     He looked at her curiously.  "What do you mean?"
     "I saw her in the hallway."  There was no need to ask who she meant.
"She stopped me; asked me some questions.  She didn't look happy, so I
figured you might feel worse.  That's why I'm here."  Whiz took a hesitant
step closer.  "What happened?"
     "I don't know," he said, his voice threatening to break on the words.
He looked down at the desk, optics alighting on snapshots of the past.
"Things started out fine, but she just wouldn't listen to me.  She
couldn't understand all of the choices I've had to make."
     Whiz's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.  "How could she?"
     Rodimus looked up, surprised by the emotion in her voice.  His face
reflected the question on his mind.
     Her optics burned back into his intensely.  "How could she understand
us?  How could any of them imagine what we've been through?  They've never
had to put aside dreams just so they can stand to live one more day.  And
then they look at me like some kind of monster, because they can't even
comprehend the forces that shaped me.  We can't give them the easy answers
that they want, because there are none.  They'll never know what we've
been through."
     He looked down again.  "Maybe we lost too much, Whiz.  Maybe she was
right."  He sighed heavily.  "Maybe I lost my caring, and told myself that
it was for the greater good."
     "Did she say that?" Whiz asked gently.  "Rodimus, you still care more
than any of the rest of us.  If you didn't, you wouldn't be here.  And
that question wouldn't even bother you."
     "Should I be here, though?" he wondered aloud.  "While everyone else
stayed behind to die?"
     She released a deep breath.  "You were the most logical choice to
lead us here and to gain the support we needed to succeed.  You know
that."
     "Maybe."  He looked back up into her face.  "But I feel like I asked
them to do something that I wasn't willing to do myself."
     "If you had thought that you could do more good in our time than this
one, you would have tried to stay," she reassured him.
     "Tried to stay?" he asked pointedly, studying her face.
     Her mouth twitched, as if attempting to smile after centuries out of
practice.  "I would have dragged you along, just like I had to this time."
     He chuckled softly.  "Saving me from myself?"
     "It wouldn't be the first time," she told him.
     "Careful, Whiz, you're starting to smile," he warned her.
     She shifted her stance uncomfortably and was silent.  Arcee's
accusation rang in his ears as he watched Whiz fold in upon herself, as
she had so many times before.
     He got up and took a step toward her.  "Whiz..." he began
uncertainly.
     A wall of ice sealed her off immediately.  "Don't."
     He sighed in exasperation.  "What *did* happen to you?"
     "The same thing that happened to all of us," she snapped, stepping
away from him.  "All those years of betrayal, disappointment, and loss."
     "Not everyone changed the way you did."  He swept his arm in a broad
arc, indicating the office, the city, this whole time.  "Look around you!
We used to talk in this place.  We used to be able to relax together.  And
now you won't even tell me what I *did* to you!"
     Her cold blue optics pierced him.  "As much as you would like to
believe that everything centers around you in the end, my problems have
nothing to do with you."
     He held out his hands in a gesture of supplication.  "If it had
nothing to do with me, you would have talked to me about it a long time
ago."
     "Aww," she said bitingly, "The poor little leader has found someone
who doesn't need him to solve her problems."
     "That has nothing to do with this!" he shouted, unable to take the
heat from his voice.  "We used to be *friends*!"
     "We used to be a lot of things!" she snapped back.
     He dropped his hands and lowered his voice.  "I just wish I knew what
had changed."
     "I stopped being naive," she told him coldly.
     He stared at her for a moment, stung by her tone.  "We did lose too
much."
     "What I have 'lost' is no concern of yours.  In fact, this whole
conversation has been entirely irrelevant to the mission we came here to
accomplish," she informed him.
     "Fine.  That's how you want it."  He clenched and unclenched his
fists, then switched to a less painful topic.  "What have you picked up
from the Decepticon frequencies?"
     She straightened and reported dispassionately, "Very little.  It
appears that Decepticon command is attempting to keep the situation quiet.
No word yet from Cyclonus or Flamediver."
     "Did you turn up anything in the reports?" he asked, distracted by
his concerns for his Second in Darkmount.
     "Nothing concrete.  Although there have been a few reports of the
Dinobots lashing out, that could be explained by their usual temper.
However, the frequency of these incidents seems to be on the rise.  I
suspect that Flamediver is finding the same results in regard to the
Predacons and Terrorcons."
     Rodimus digested this information.  "So they're coming together in
their packs."
     "Affirmative.  It could be the beginning of their anti-Cybertronian
paranoia, manifesting itself in isolationist tendencies," she concurred.
     "Then it's already started.  We need to warn the others to be on
their guard here, while we try to find Sky Lynx as quickly as possible,"
Rodimus mused.
     "Find him?" Whiz echoed.
     He nodded.  "Sky Lynx has already taken to space.  Somehow, he must
have learned that we were here to stop him."
     "Scrap," she cursed.  "Then we're wasting time."
     "The other... Autobots are gathering their forces to help us,"
Rodimus assured her, "and the humans are also going to offer aid.  I just
have to meet with the Bryants to explain what happened to Earth."  He
watched her impassive face, then added, "I'm sure you'd be welcome."
     A dark shadow passed over her optics.  "I don't think so."
     He was as puzzled by Whiz's reaction to the Bryants as he was by her
hostility toward him.  What on Cybertron had she turned into?  "I'll pass
on your regrets," he told her dryly.
     She ignored him.  "I'll meet with the others and analyze their
reports."
     "All right," he agreed wearily.
     The intercom crackled, then came to life with the baritone voice of
the Secretary-General.  "Rodimus?"
     "Come in," Rodimus invited, straightening up and advancing toward the
door.
     The human walked in, smiling at both of the Cybertronians.  "Whiz!  I
suppose I should have guessed.  I'm sure Rodimus has told you about our
arrangement."
     "He has," Whiz said stiffly, uncomfortable in the wake of Edward's
exuberance.
     "Well then.  I've just finished negotiations with the EDC, and
they've agreed to supply four shuttles, fully manned, to aid the search
effort.  Now it's time to fulfill your part of the bargain."  He looked up
at Rodimus.
     "It will be a pleasure," Rodimus said diplomatically, casting a quick
glance at Whiz.
     Edward followed his gaze and misinterpreted it.  "Of course, we'd be
happy to have you join us, Whiz."
     "I'd rather not," Whiz said stoically, not looking at the human
directly.  "I have important matters to attend to.  In fact, I was just
leaving."  Before either of her companions could protest, she was out the
door.
     "What's with her?" the Secretary-General wondered.
     Rodimus shook his head.  "I wish I knew."
     Edward gave him an assessing look, then shrugged slightly. "Well, you
two have had plenty of time for changes.  And besides, anything that you
explain now, you'll just have to explain again for Krystal.  She wants to
hear everything."
     Rodimus smiled.  "I'll do my best to oblige.  Lead the way."
     Edward led him to the EDC Annex, nestled into the heart of Iacon,
where Krystal awaited them.  She and Edward had food prepared, but they
waited for Rodimus to take his place before they began to eat.
     "I'd offer you some, Rodimus, but I don't think you'll appreciate it
as much as you did while you were human," Krystal smiled.
     He chuckled, shaking his head.  "The offer's still appreciated."
     "So," Edward began, "Tell us all about it.  I take it that Earth got
in the middle of your conflict?"
     Rodimus nodded, folding his hands loosely.  "Earth became a second
battleground, especially after the Primitives sent Trypticon there to act
as their base.  Fortunately, Metroplex was able to destroy him, but we
lost Metroplex and caused a lot of collateral damage in the process.
Everyone had to team up -- Autobots, Decepticons, Terrans, Militants, you
name it.  We may not always have liked working together, but we had to."
     "It's too bad it took a catastrophe like that to cement an alliance,"
Krystal said thoughtfully.
     "Your efforts made it possible.  Both of you, and Chikome-Ollin,"
Rodimus told them.
     Edward beamed at Krystal.  "I told you I'd be good for something
someday."
     She chuckled and looked at him lovingly.  "Did I ever question that?"
     Rodimus felt a cold twist deep inside him.  If only Arcee could have
used the same understanding...
     Krystal felt the same twist, though muted by emotional distance, and
looked at Rodimus carefully.  As he continued to discuss alliances and
battles with Edward, Krystal opened herself up to the Cybertronian's
emotions.  She found that the picture was much as she had expected:
sadness about the events of the tale he was relating, apprehension about
the mission, and a greater confidence in himself than she had ever sensed
from him before.  She had also expected some hurt and guilt, but she
hadn't expected it to be so close to the surface.  He'd had some kind of
emotional crisis in the short time he had been in Iacon.  
     She delved just a fraction deeper and found that the hurt was mostly
attached to Arcee somehow, while a heavy dose of guilt and confusion was
centered around Whiz.  Not that she could blame him for that.  After all,
she had felt the same way earlier when she'd been summarily dismissed just
for asking to talk.  Maybe together, they could puzzle out some answers.
If nothing else, she should be able to help him smooth out some of his
emotional wrinkles.
     An incredulous note in Edward's voice caught her attention.  "A
forcefield?"
     "Impenetrable," Rodimus nodded.  "Not even biological agents could
get to the surface.  Once it was activated, nothing could get in or out of
Earth's orbit.  It removed the planet from the war and looked like it had
saved mankind.  At first."
     Rodimus frowned, his face tightening with regret.  "There probably
should have been more research on the effects, but we had no time.  It had
already taken so long just to complete the project.  But gradually, it
became apparent that the forcefield had an unexpected side-effect.  Heat
began to get trapped within the forcefield instead of radiating out into
space.  The Earth's climate was already so unbalanced by the loss of so
much vegetation that the added heat just sped up a gradual process of
climate change.  Weather patterns started to go crazy, and the ice caps
started to melt..."
     Rodimus trailed off, feeling the ache that he had felt so long ago as
the Cybertronians had watched helplessly from beyond the forcefield. "And
as the effects got worse, the humans moved underground and built cities
under the rising oceans.  They disappeared from the surface, and we lost
contact with them."
     "They just... disappeared?" Krystal asked.
     Rodimus nodded.  "After a while, we couldn't even penetrate the
constant cloud cover to observe anything.  But the forcefield eventually
failed, and we were able to land on the surface to investigate.  We didn't
see any signs of humans -- only a semi-intelligent species of aquatic
mammal.  Some of our scientists thought they might be the descendants of
humans, and others thought they were probably a new evolution from orcas
or dolphins.  There was enough time for either, so we still don't know."
     Edward thought for a moment.  "Who controls it?"
     Rodimus shrugged slightly.  "Everyone seemed to tacitly agree to
leave it alone.  There wasn't much to be gained, since the waters had
risen to cover most of the surface."
     Krystal closed her eyes, envisioning so many people, so many of
humanity's accomplishments, all drowning underneath the ruffled surface of
a giant ocean.  "I can't believe it."
     "At least it won't happen again.  Now we know better," Edward told
her comfortingly.
     "And we're going to make sure that the Primitives never have the
opportunity to bring the war to Earth," Rodimus assured them with iron
certainty.  "We're not going to allow that mistake to be repeated."
     Krystal mused.  "But all of that took place generations after Edward
and I were gone.  What happened to the two of us?"
     Rodimus immediately looked uncomfortable, clasping his hands in his
lap.  "We decided not to share details about the future.  It could cause
too many problems or harsh feelings."
     "Come on, you can tell us," Edward pressed.  "You've said plenty so
far, and I don't see the universe crashing around our ears."
     Rodimus looked between the two of them, unsure.  If he told them what
had happened in his timeline, they could avoid the tragedy that he was
all-too-familiar with.  But maybe he would just worry them without cause,
or even cement that awful event into history.  Maybe he could tell them
just enough to satisfy their curiosity without letting anything major
escape.
     "Well, the most interesting news is that you two had a daughter.  She
was a few days premature, so she ended up being born on Cybertron.  You
named her Gwen Audrey, because Whiz helped to deliver her in Autobot HQ.
She was a beautiful baby, and Whiz sort of adopted her, the way I adopted
Daniel.  They were always together, and Whiz took responsibility for
keeping Gwen safe.  Everyone was very close, which only made it harder
when..."  Rodimus stopped, biting off the words that tried to come next.
     Krystal felt his wave of concern and sadness roll slowly across the
room.  A faint stirring of panic welled up inside her as she asked, "When
what?"
     Rodimus looked at her with pain behind his optics.  "When Gwen was
about nine years old, she and Edward were in an airplane accident.  The
plane had a systems failure of some kind and crashed, killing everyone
aboard."
     Edward's face went slack with shock, while Krystal gasped, "Why
wasn't I with them?"
     "You had flown out ahead of them.  When the news came... Whiz went to
collect you.  She felt just as bad, as if they might have lived if she had
flown them herself.  And after that, the two of you were always together.
She focused on protecting you, since she couldn't be there for Edward and
Gwen.  You two did your healing together."  Rodimus shook himself from his
memories and looked guiltily at the stunned couple.
     Too much, dammit, he thought to himself.  So much for just telling
them enough to satisfy their curiosity.
     "I don't know what to say," Edward stammered.  "I'm never taking an
airplane again."
     Krystal shook off her temporary paralysis, shelving her horror
somewhere in the back of her mind.  "But.. what could I have done to make
her hate me so much *now*?"
     Rodimus looked at her helplessly.  "I still have no idea.  I didn't
realize how strongly she felt until she saw you again.  But if it's any
consolation, I don't know why she hates *me*, either."
     "I know I'm no psychoanalyst or anything," Edward said hesitantly,
"But maybe, if you two were so close, she felt abandoned once you were
separated?"
     Krystal said thoughtfully, "I guess it's possible."
     "After all, she..." Edward was interrupted by an insistent tone from
his communicator.  He looked relieved to have something to distract him
from thoughts of his own mortality, and he stood quickly.  "I'd better
answer that.  Excuse me."  He turned and disappeared into an enclosed
office.
     Krystal and Rodimus looked at each other for a long moment, then
Krystal smiled bravely.  "I know that it must not be easy to talk about
some of these things."
     "At least I can tell myself that they'll change now.  Especially now
that you know what to watch for and have been warned to be careful,"
Rodimus said gently.
     Krystal softened and nodded.  "We can save.. Gwen."
     Rodimus smiled wistfully.  "Yeah."
     With a quiet sigh, Krystal sat forward, leaning closer to Rodimus.
"But now that all of that is out of the way, let's talk about you for a
bit.  I can tell that you're hurting."
     He released a deep breath and looked away.  "Can't hide a thing from
you."
     "You should know better than to try.  Now come on, if Whiz won't talk
to me, at least you can."
     He sat back in resignation.  "It's been a strain to be back here.
I'm seeing people I thought were lost forever, and noticing how much
others have really changed.  You'd think I'd gain some insight, but it
seems that everything just confuses me more."
     "Like Whiz?" Krystal asked gently.  
     He nodded.  "I hadn't realized how different she'd become until I saw
all the evidence of what she used to be like.  But when I try to ask, she
*still* refuses to talk to me about it."
     I guess we both must have done something to her," Krystal observed
quietly, then shook her head.  "It seems so strange to use the past tense
to talk about things that haven't even happened yet."
     Rodimus smiled ruefully.  "You two got me to say too much."
     Krystal shrugged.  "We'll get past it.  Accidents do happen, but
being prepared goes a long way toward having a longer life."
     "I hope so," Rodimus said earnestly.  "You two deserve better."
     She looked at him tenderly.  "Well, thank you. And trying to shift
the subject isn't working."
     He groaned.  "It's not?"
     "Not by a long shot," she chuckled.  "What else is bothering you?"
     Rodimus looked down at the ground uncomfortably.  "I had some
expectations for what would happen when we got here, and things didn't
exactly go as I'd hoped."
     Krystal nodded sympathetically.  "Sometimes, we change people in our
memories without even knowing it.  Then, confronted with the reality
again, we can't understand the difference."
     The Cybertronian commander was quiet.  "Maybe that's the problem."
     "Why don't you talk to me about it?" she prodded.
     He sighed.  "When the Primitives rebelled, the first casualty of the
Uprising was Arcee.  I didn't realize how much I'd depended on her until
suddenly she was gone.  I've spent eight million years wishing that I'd
done something differently to try to save her.  But when I tried to talk
to her..."
     "She wasn't what you had expected," Krystal observed.
     "Yes... no... well, not exactly.  She didn't understand what had
happened.  I tried to explain what I'd been through and the choices I'd
had to make, but she just didn't want to *listen*.  It was as if she was
blaming *me* for what happened."
     "I'm sure she was just frightened, Rodimus," Krystal said tenderly.
"You've changed a great deal, but she hasn't.  She doesn't have the same
perspective as you, anymore.  I'm sure she *wanted* to understand, but it
must be very hard for her to look at someone she thought that she knew,
possibly better than anyone, and then to find that he has become a
stranger to her."
     Rodimus spread his hands.  "But I was trying to change that.  I
always thought that she'd understand.  Or that she would at least try to
support me."
     "You've created an Arcee in your mind, but the problem is, that Arcee
has grown along with you.  She's an Arcee that might have been.  But you
can't expect this Arcee to fill that role for you," Krystal explained as
gently as possible.
     "I didn't think that I'd changed her," Rodimus said disappointedly.  
     Krystal put her hand gently on one of Rodimus' fingers.  "It's only
natural.  But nobody can be the Arcee that you want.  On the other hand,
you can't go back to being the Rodimus that she knows, either.  We can all
just be who we are."
     "Arcee hasn't changed, and Whiz has changed too much," he said
distantly.  "I don't seem to be having much luck with my friends lately."
     Krystal chuckled softly.  "You've always got me."
     He looked at her face and smiled faintly.  "I wouldn't want that to
change a bit."
     "It's going to be okay, Rodimus.  You're just having trouble
adjusting, and with all that's different in this time, you can't blame
yourself for having problems."
     "Krystal, do you think I changed too much? Am I just trying to play a
role that I can't fill without the Matrix?" he asked, gazing intently into
her eyes.
     She could feel his sincere concern wash over her, and answered
directly, "Rodimus, you know that's not the case."
     "I used to, but now I wonder.  Arcee knows what I was like with the
Matrix, and she's the one who's so disappointed in me.  Maybe I took a
wrong turn somewhere without realizing it," he mused.
     "You've done more than anyone ever expected of you, though -- more
than you ever expected of yourself.  And you did it all without the
Matrix.  You stopped relying on *its* inner voice and started to rely on
*yours*.  Just managing to survive and get back to the past --  that's an
incredible accomplishment."
     "Maybe if I'd made other choices along the way, this wouldn't have
been necessary," he thought aloud.
     She studied his face for a moment.  "If you had made other choices,
you wouldn't have been you.  You never gave in to hatred or despair; you
never gave up the fight.  And more importantly, you didn't allow the fight
to rule you.  You still want to help them and to *avoid* the rebellion,
rather than destroying them just to stop it."
     He nodded thoughtfully.  "Yeah, I want the killing to stop."
     She sensed his gloom lifting.  "Are you sure that most of this
doesn't just come from being around your old self again?  Looking at the
road not taken always seems to make people second-guess themselves."
     "I don't know if it's being near *me*.  It's more like being near...
it."  He frowned, looking off toward the medbay.
     He didn't need to tell her what 'it' was.  "You can feel it?" she
asked softly.
     "Every moment," he told her distantly.  "I feel like it's calling to
me.  As if it already knows the whole story."
     "Why aren't you answering?" She tried to keep her voice as gentle and
detached as possible.
     His voice broke painfully as he wrenched his gaze back to her.  "I
can't.  It's not mine."
     "Maybe it's trying to convince you otherwise."
     "No."  He shook his head.  "Not until I change my past.  Not until I
prevent the loss.  I have to earn that right again.  Maybe not for the
Matrix, but for myself."
     "I understand," she reassured him.  "And I have faith in you."
     A slow smile crept over his face.  "Thank you, Krystal."
     "No need to thank me for telling the truth," she smiled, then stifled
a yawn.
     "You must be tired," Rodimus said quickly.  "I shouldn't be keeping
you."
     "No, no," she protested, suddenly feeling the weight of the day's
events.
     "If I can't lie to you," he admonished, unfolding his legs, "You
can't lie to me.  I'll see you again soon."
     "Okay," She agreed, watching him approach the door.  "Thanks for
telling me about the future."
     He smiled back at her with sincere affection.  "Thanks for
listening."  Then he ducked out of the door and was gone. 

[cont.]


 
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