FICTION: Here Am I, Floating In A Tin Can

[Mark_Stevenson]

HERE AM I, FLOATING IN A TIN CAN
A tale of Transformers: The Continued Generation 2
by Mark Stevenson

Not so long ago, in a galaxy pretty far away…

“Are we there yet?”
Bluestreak stared back at his interrogator from the pilot’s couch. His broad, silver-blue shoulders sagged, and he let out a long sigh. “Huffer, you’ve been asking me that question every day for six months now. Every morning at 0600 sharp you walk up to the bridge, barge in without even knocking, and ask ‘Are we there yet?’ And every morning,” he turned back to the front viewscreen, looking out into infinity. “Every morning I point to the big, black, completely empty space in front of us and say: No, Huffer. We’re not there yet.”
Huffer grunted. “Coulda just said.” He turned and stomped back towards the door. “If you need me, I’ll be down in the hold, staring at the wall.”
Bluestreak watched him go, then turned to his companion.
“And that, believe it or not, will be the highlight of my day,” he said. His companion gave no reaction, instead taking a sudden interest in a slightly greasy patch on the underside of a console, probing it with its front-mounted all-purpose cleaning appendage.

The Autobot shuttle cruised listlessly through space. The ship was, of course, not a sentient mechanical being like it’s nine occupants, but it’s core control system had a necessary amount of intelligence – necessary for, say, fire control, or the regulation of the engines, or detection of foreign bodies above a certain size which might pose a collision hazard.
Objects below a certain size, however, went undetected.
On the underside of the portside wing, hidden in shadow, there was a small rend in the metal. Inside the hole, in the dark crawlspace within the wing itself, something moved.
Something alive.

“…And that concludes my evaluation of the ongoing fuel rationing programme. As you see, we should have adequate stocks to complete our mission, and procuring further supplies for the return journey should present no significant obstacle upon the successful conclusion of negotiations with the Legion of New Cybertron. Any thoughts?”
Prowl sat back in his chair, allowing himself a faint flicker of satisfaction at a job well done. On the other side of the desk Nightbeat stroked his chin and stared expressionlessly into the middle distance. Prowl had the irritating impression that he hadn’t listened to a single word he’d just said. “Well?”
Nightbeat started as if bitten by a scraplet. He looked blankly at Prowl. “Sorry?”
Prowl frowned. “Something’s on your mind, Nightbeat, and I don’t think it’s fuel stocks.”
“All right, I’ll tell you.” Nightbeat glanced over his shoulder, checking the door to Prowl’s office was closed. “I’m . . . starting to worry about the crew, Prowl.”
The commanding officer looked perplexed. “Why?”
“Well, I don’t know whether you’ve noticed,” said Nightbeat, his words coming out more loaded than he’d intended, “but I think the isolation is starting to get to them. We’ve been cooped up in here, drifting endlessly through space, for the best part of a year. It’s been that long since we’ve had any contact with another intelligent being that even I can barely remember…”
Prowl interrupted, mimicking the sound of clearing his throat. “What about the Cl-Hkew gaseous cluster? The one we encountered three weeks ago? That displayed signs of intelligence.”
“Prowl, it attempted to liquefy and consume us, and we accidentally incinerated 22% of its mass firing our retros to escape. I hardly think that counts.”
Prowl shrugged. “All right, point conceded. Do you think there’s some danger of a mut – some danger to the ship?”
Nightbeat sighed. Much as he admired Prowl’s efficient brand of logic, it did make discussing the finer points of mechanoid management feel like talking to a titanium bulkhead. “No, no, nothing like that. Its just…” he struggled for a moment. “Two days ago, I walked onto the bridge and discovered Bluestreak having a one-sided conversation with the cleaning 'droid – an AI-driven vacuum cleaner. That’s not healthy, and it’s only the tip of the iceberg. Everyone appears to have withdrawn into his or her own little shell. Ebony has taken to stalking shadows. Hot Rod polishes his weaponry as many as five times a day. Arcee stares forlornly out of windows. Even Bumblebee looks miserable. And as for Huffer…” he shuddered. “Prognosis: the crew are bored out of their minds, Prowl. If we don’t do something to bring them back together, to keep them positive and sharp, then . . . well, I’d hate to think what would happen if we ran across another Khyaxian warship, for example.”
Prowl nodded. “What do you suggest?”
Nightbeat thought about it for a moment or two, and then grinned.

The intruder moved silently through the sub-flooring, thick ribbons of viscous drool seeping from its mandibles. It was aware of the sounds of the occupants of this vessel moving around on the levels above it, but the time was not yet right to strike. Its hunger was great, but an eternity scavenging electron residue from asteroids and floating through the cold vacuum of space in a state of semi-hibernation had instilled the creature with an incredible sense of patience. It would rest, it would grow strong, and then it would feast.
Reaching out with a slender, clawed forelimb, it located an access port that led to a lower section of the ship’s bowels. Squeezing its black, chitinous form through an impossibly narrow gap, it slunk away in search of a warm place to nest.

The klaxon reverberated through the shuttle, snapping each member of the crew from whatever little reverie they’d lost themselves in and sending them sprinting, confused and alarmed, towards the bridge. Upon arrival, they were surprised to see Prowl and Nightbeat there, patiently waiting for them.
“What’s going on here?” barked Ebony. “What’s the emergency?”
Nightbeat looked at her and smiled. “There isn’t one,” he said.
Kup frowned, folding his arms. “Then what-”
Prowl stepped forward, looking decidedly less-than-comfortable. “Listen. We’ve been out here for a long time now. I think, uh, that is… What I’m trying to say, is, I think the esprit des corps has become, uh, somewhat compromised…” Prowl’s usually cast-iron certainly melted under the heat of seven perplexed stares. He shrugged helplessly. “Help me out here, Nightbeat…”
Nightbeat stepped forward, grinning so wide it looked like the top of his head might drop off at any second. “Guys, there’s something missing from our lives right now. Something so basic and fundamental that all sentient, social life-forms require in order to hone their reflexes, improve inter-group bonds and develop new skills. That special something-” he let his eyes sweep across the crew, “-is fun.”
A bemused titter arose from the crew, but it quickly subsided to deferential shrugs and curiosity. “So what do you suggest we do to have some ‘fun’?” asked Ebony, a half-smirk on her face. “There ain’t exactly a lot to do around here.”
“Well, that’s true – I’ve had to improvise a little.” Nightbeat looked at Bluestreak. “I hope you don’t mind ‘Streak, but I took the liberty of borrowing your little friend, the Automatic Cleaning Unit.” Another titter ran through the crew. Bluestreak took a defensive stance.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about…” he muttered, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
“We’re going to conduct a little team-building exercise,” Nightbeat announced, practically rubbing his hands together with glee. “We’ll divide into small groups, and you’ll all go in search of the ACU. I’ve programmed it to move in a random manner around the ship, and before you try, it’s shielded for scanners. You’ll have to use each of your individual skills, recognise your own weaknesses, and most important of all work as a team to succeed. The first team to find the ACU wins; it’s as simple as that.”
“Nightbeat,” grumbled Kup, “other than total insanity – what the frag is this?”
“Amongst human children I believe it is referred to as ‘hide and seek’,” he replied. “Kup, you’re with Bumblebee and me. Arcee, Huffer and Bluestreak will be the second team, and Prowl, Hot Rod and Ebony the third. Now,” he clapped his hands, “seek ‘em!”

“Seriously, ‘seek ‘em’?” said Kup, grunting slightly as with exertion as he knelt to look under a grav-couch in the Rec Room.
“It was the best I could come up with at short notice,” said Nightbeat. “You could show a little more enthusiasm.”
“Yeah, Kup!” called Bumblebee from the other end of the room. “A sense of adventure wouldn’t go amiss, either!”
“Enthusiasm? Sense of adventure? I’ll give you – OWW!”
Nightbeat looked quizzically at the aged Autobot. “How’s your head?”
Kup stood up straight, grimacing. “Fine, thank you,” he mumbled. “Well, I can only hope that the other teams are having more luck than we are…”

“Aw, this is pointless…”
Arcee and Bluestreak exchanged glances. Being in Huffer’s presence was like lunching with Kafka at the best of times; right now he was radiating so much gloom that the striplights seemed to dim as he passed beneath them.
“Cheer up, little guy,” ventured Bluestreak, and was met with a stare that could have drilled concrete.
“Kiss my fender, ‘Streak,” Huffer said. “Let’s just find your little blue friend and get the hell out of here.”
“Shut up guys,” Arcee said, quietly, stepping ahead of them. “I thought I heard something…”
The engineering level always made her a little uneasy. The ship pretty much ran itself (save a little tinkering from Huffer) and so they rarely came down here. It was dark and, for no good reason, rust-inducingly humid.
In fact, it suddenly seemed a lot darker.
Collectively, they looked up as the lights overhead dimmed, sputtered, and then died. There was a moment of vertiginous claustrophobia, the soft background hum of the ship’s engines suddenly seeming to ramp up to a howling din. Bluestreak flicked on his chest-mounted headlamps. Shadows danced, throwing confused and unsettling shapes.
“I thought you fixed 12 module?” said Arcee with an edge to her voice.
“We did,” replied Huffer.
“Circuits must have burned out.” Bluestreak pulled open a panel in the wall, the light spinning as he moved. “Here, give me a hand with this…”
As the two of them struggled with a sparking circuit board, Arcee took a few ginger steps further down the corridor. Even with her optics in light-enhancement mode, she struggled to see more than a few feet ahead. Trickles of condensation ran down her faceplate. She had an uncertain sensation that that there was something up ahead, waiting in the darkness.
“What the..?”

The invader uncurled from its resting place, sensing movement nearby. Viscous drool oozed from it’s maw as it tensed, ready to attack. Through multi-faceted eyes, it watched the robotic creature pass below it. The intruder was unfamiliar with the physiology of its prey, but it scented the metallic elements that it hungered for. Predatory instinct took over. It dropped softly to the floor, and, as the victim turned slowly to face it, it sprang, fangs bared and talons extended.
The battle was short and brutal.

Nightbeat looked away sheepishly as Prowl, Ebony and Hot Rod stalked onto the bridge, glaring at him. Kup and Bumblebee were on the other side of the room, giving him the silent treatment.
Ebony rested her hands on her hips. “Well, that was… Hmm, what’s the word?”
“Rubbish.”
She nodded. “That’s the one. Thanks, Bumblebee. Spending my spare time traipsing around the ship, rooting through lockers with Huey and Dewey here, is not my idea of fun.”
“We’ve wasted the whole day,” said Prowl, ignoring the comment. “Between the members of this crew, there is enough stealthproofing and on-board sensory equipment to pick up Ravage scratching himself three planets away, and yet we can’t find the vacuum cleaner!”
Nightbeat shrugged. “Perhaps I programmed it a little too well,” he said. “It is, after all, an AI extension of the ship itself. There are access ports and sub-flooring routes all over the place. If it were told to disappear… I guess there are a hundred places it could go that we couldn’t reach.”
“Would’ve been handy if you’d had that moment of insight ten hours ago,” grumbled Kup. “Just issue the recall command, would ya?”
Nightbeat sighed, defeated. He typed a short sequence on a nearly keypad. They stood in awkward silence for seven whole minutes before a small grille in the wall slid quietly open and the ACU trundled in.
“And where are the other three?” asked Prowl, eager to put the whole sorry affair behind him and get back to something a bit more logical.
Bumblebee flicked a switch, opening the ship comm system. “Yo, ‘Streak, where are you guys?”
There was nothing but static hiss. The others glanced at each other.
“Bluestreak, please respond.” Nothing. “Arcee? Huffer?”
Prowl patched into the system. “Bluestreak, please respond. The game is over.”
“Damn right,” said Huffer as the three missing Autobots stomped into the room.
“Where did you guys get to?”
Arcee flopped down, grim-faced. “There was an electrical fault on the engineering level. The lights fused, and whilst these two bozos were trying to fix it, they tripped the pressure bulkheads and sealed us in. I’ve spent all day locked in the dark with a manic depressive and someone who talks so much that the only words that don’t appear to be in his vocabulary are ‘shut’ and ‘up’. Frankly, I’ve had enough.”
Huffer snorted. “Wasn’t that much fun for us, either.”
“I think,” Prowl said, slowly, “that we should all chalk this one down to experience and, er, try to forget it happened. Being bored individually is clearly preferable to being annoyed collectively.”
Nightbeat walked off the bridge, mumbling. A weight seemed to lift from the others as the doors slid shut behind him.
“Think he’ll be okay?” asked Hot Rod.
“Give him time, kid,” said Kup. “We all have bad idea days.”
Bluestreak knelt down in front of the ACU. “So where did you get to, eh?” he asked, ignoring the amused looks he could feel burrowing into the back of his head. The little blue box on wheels made a spluttering noise. Bluestreak looked concerned. “Hey, he looks a bit peaky…”
Ebony chuckled behind him. “Peaky? Are you for real?”
“No, I’m serious, look…”
Ebony squatted beside him. “Hmm, you’re right; it does look like it’s having trouble with something.”
“I think there’s something stuck in his suction tube – hold on a sec.” Bluestreak pressed a concealed button in the smaller robot’s side, and the ACU went from suck to blow.
“I’m very concerned that you know how to do that,” said Ebony, regarding him levelly. There was a soft, wet popping sound.
“Look!”
“What’s that?”
“Let me see!”
“Eww.”
The crushed remains of some kind of bizarre insect had dropped out of the tube, and now lay on the floor in a small puddle of greenish pus. It was utterly unlike anything any of them had ever seen before and could only be described as Cthulhu-esque in its nightmarish ugliness.
It was also less than half the length of one of Bumblebee’s fingers.

[Andy Turnbull]

I think you might need to edit this, any apostrophes and quotation marks appear to be garbled. If you are copying and pasting the best format to use to make sure it appears okay on the forum is an rtf file.

Aside from that it's grand to see some new work from you Mark and something fun and whimsical to boot featuring some old favourites.

I loved it to bits, Huffer is such a great character to have in a group situation and he shined through in this one.

Andy

[Mark_Stevenson]

That's odd, it looks fine on my screen. Hmmm.

Glad you enjoyed Andy. This is something I started a looooong time ago and had pretty much forgotten all about. It was fun to dust down and finish off. I've always been very fond of the CG2 shuttle arc and it was nice to play with those characters.

Mx

[grahamthomson]

Wonderful, wonderful, Mark!

And a welcome visitation to the CG2 storyline. (Here's hoping to a
conclusion of Mr Roberts' scripts!)

The interplay between the characters was simply luminous!

Do another one.

[karla]

hope it isn't a Mi-go. YaY, another femme!

[legios]

I think there is something that has gone awry with your quote marks in the posting of it - they have turned into ascii strings for some reason.

Apart from that though, very good stuff Mark. Nice to see a return to the shuttle arc, and you make good use of the confined quarters and the small cast. I love your characterisation of the principles - especially Huffer, he is always a delight to read about even if he wouldn't be quite so delightful to be around.

Great little story.

Karl

[Grand Moff Muffin]

Excellent story!

The apostrophes look fine to me, except for the few that don't belong grammatically, such as the two in this sentence:

The ship was, of course, not a sentient mechanical being like it’s nine occupants, but it’s core control system had a necessary amount of intelligence

Poor Nightbeat. But he deserved what he got. Fun imposed by authority figures is no fun.

Martin

[Mark_Stevenson]

Oops

It is inspired by being forced to have fun.

[andrewbcalculating]

It seems the garbled apostrophes and quotation marks come about when using Firefox but the text seems fine when using Internet Explorer.

|<o>|

[The Doctor]

Ah, that explains it. Switching to IE briefly allowed me to read it properly. Splendid stuff. Extra bonus point for using the word 'chitinous'. Huffer is very well done.

It would be nice to see this turn up in printed form.

-Ralph