The Veiled Threat by Alan Dean Foster Page B

simulations, however. Trying it against something as powerful and alien as a Transformer was not like testing it in a lab.
    Payload reacted as the pulse hit his right leg. Though the contact impacted no vital circuits or components, it was powerful enough to generate the mechanical equivalent of a brief muscle spasm. This proved irritating enough that despite the orders he had been given he broke off the fight. Twitching and jerking from the effects of Petr’s rifle and Kami’s blast, and having to make a conscious effort to maintain his balance, he turned and tottered off in Dropkick’s wake.
    Once again free of restraining Decepticon arms, Ironhide prepared to unlimber his heavy weapons. He would have a clear shot at the retreating Payload’s back. But before he could ready himself, much less take aim, he was confronted by Beachbreak and the smaller Autobot’s two human passengers.
    “Get back, get back to shore!” Kaminari was yelling at him.
    “Why?” The big Autobot looked longingly at Payload’s unsteady flight. “I can follow and finish him.”
    “If you don’t get out of this current you’ll be finishedyourself!” Kaminari gestured into the mist that had already swallowed Optimus and Macerator.
    “She is telling you the truth. We must get clear of this place.” Having divested himself of that warning, Petr regarded his small rifle with satisfaction. “My colleagues will be pleased. This really does disrupt Decepticon internal current flow.”
    The Autobot weapons specialist hesitated a moment longer. Then, with a last reluctant look at the stumbling, fleeing Payload, he turned and started toward the shore where the humans Lennox and Epps were jumping up and down and waving at him frantically. What was upsetting them so? Even if they had not destroyed the opposing Decepticons, at least two of them had been seriously damaged and before the fight was over Optimus would surely put an end to Macerator. Ironhide looked into the mist but in his haste could not see either his leader or the clinging Decepticon.
    It was indeed difficult to advance against the current. More so than he had anticipated. How many Earthly rivers commanded such an imposing flow? One that seemed to increase with every step. Startled, he discovered that he could not make any progress against the current. He was holding his ground, but he was not moving forward.
    “Here!” A metal cable appeared, unreeling from the back of Beachbreak.
    Divining his comrade’s intent, Ironhide grasped it with both hands. The smaller Autobot was noted for his agility, not for his strength, but despite his unpretentious size he boasted a powerful internal engine. It roared full-out now.
    Slowly, progressively, and with Beachbreak’s help, Ironhide was able to raise a leg and put one foot forward. Then another, and another. The closer they came to the riverbank, the lighter the current became, until at last Ironhide was able to let go of the cable and proceed the rest of the way through the water on his own. As the bigger Autobot emerged from the river, Beachbreak spun around to allow first Kaminari and then Petr to jump off onto the bank.
    Eyeing the peculiar rifle the man was holding, Epps immediately confronted his Russian colleague. “What the hell does that thing shoot, anyway? I didn’t see any explosions.”
    “It’s a battery-powered gun that fires—batteries. More or less.” Petr proceeded to explain. “Coated in special adhesive, they attach themselves to a Decepticon and instantly deliver a full discharge. You would be astonished at the amount of energy that can be crammed into a battery pack these days. Enough to at least momentarily disrupt a Decepticon’s internal flow.” Turning, he squinted across the river. “The discharge is not enough to kill one, but rendering it unstable allows other, more lethal weapons to more easily be brought to bear. Not to mention those mounted by an Autobot.”
    “I could have finished Payload.”