Transformers: Retribution by David J. Williams, Mark Williams Page A

Aquatronian infirmary. With its high ceilings and flying buttresses, the medical lab looked more like a house of worship than a place of healing. It was only upon closer inspection of the rows of medical bays and transorganic medical computers that its true function became apparent. Channels of water cut through the room; through them could be seen an additional, underwater level.
    “This is really quite a facility you’ve got here,” Ratchet said with a slight twinge of envy. The Curator waved them over to a pool from which climbed a puffer fish-bot covered with spines—as they watched, it shifted into a medium-size greenish robot with an enormous black mustache. The Curator cleared his throat.
    “Allow me to introduce our planet’s senior medical physician, Doctor Xeros.”
    The doctor bowed. “Always a pleasure to meet another practitioner of the medical arts,” he said to Ratchet. “Very pleased to meet you indeed.”
    “Well,” said Ratchet, “allow me to complement you on this facility.” But as he spoke, he was scanning the equipment, trying to decide whether they could entrust Optimus to it. “Most impressive.”
    “You’re too kind,” said Doctor Xeros. “Most of what you see here is millions of years old. I daresay that most of the technological advances we’ve made over the years have been geared toward the Energon trade.”
    “Where should I put Optimus?” Bulkhead broke in impatiently.
    “Oh, yes, over here. Over here.” Xeros led him to a med-bay and gently lowered Optimus down into it while the Curator drew back, watching intently.
    “You’re conversant with Cybertronian physiology?” Perceptor asked the doctor.
    “Have no fears on that score,” Xeros said as he warmed up the med-bay. “We have a comprehensive codex of over three thousand different species. Some aren’t even robotic in nature, if you can imagine. Did you know that there are some places in the galaxy where carbon is the primary building block of life?”
    “Carbon-based life-forms?” Perceptor said. “That sounds incredible.”
    “It’s true. Purely organic beings. With life spans that don’t even last for a fraction of ours. In some cases they never actually leave their larval state and exist only for a matter of days before their spark terminates.”
    Ratchet pondered this while the robotic arms of the med-bay whirred to life, reaching out with a multitude of wires, probes, and contact sensors that slotted intoparts of Optimus’s body. “First things first,” Xeros said. “We’ll run a class-one diagnostic.”
    “I just did that a few days ago,” Ratchet admitted.
    “And the results?”
    “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
    “Well,” Xeros said, “so far it would seem that all of his systems are functioning at high capability. Curious. Let’s take a closer look.” He leaned over Optimus and began gingerly prying open a few of the chest plates, only to let out an exclamation at what was revealed.
    “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is that a Matrix of Leadership?”
    “
The
Matrix of Leadership,” Jazz said with a hint of trepidation. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is.”
    “Amazing. I heard that such a thing existed. Simply amazing. But this could be the problem. Were you able to do a diagnostic on whether it’s functioning correctly?”
    “The diagnostic said it was.”
    “Did you remove the Matrix to ensure an isolated environment without interference from the host bot?”
    “Of course not. Look, Doctor, I appreciate your efforts, but the Matrix has built-in safeguards. It’s intended to be self-diagnosing. And if there’s a problem with it, it should let Optimus or his potential successor know.”
    The doctor mulled that over. “Are you that successor?” he asked a little too casually.
    “The Matrix will make the decision when the time is right,” Jazz said curtly.
    “But how do you know that decision is right if you can’t be sure the Matrix is functioning