Ep 1.5 - Vantage Points (Closed)

[Deleted]

No digging this time - finding the container was as simply as brushing back the plants. A part of Max was relieved by that. He hadn't exactly brought a shovel, and he was not sure if his holomatter generator would allow him to project one as a part of his avatar if the cache had been buried deep.

With the metal box clasped in both hands Max turned and sat awkwardly on the log. He examined it curiously. It was an ammunition box, that much he could tell. He had recognised its military design immediately. The bright green label was different however, and he took a moment to read it.

'PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB.' That was interesting. This geocaching game was more official and widespread than he had originally thought.

'Geocaching.com.' Huh. Max frowned. He'd have to look that up.

He rested the ammo box on his lap and looked for the latch. Once he found it he flipped it up and opened the lid. This cache was a lot heavier than the last one had been. He couldn't imagine what was inside it.

[Feldspar]

The metal was damp, but the inside was sealed and perfectly dry.

Inside there were similar things he'd found at the last location. A handheld flip notebook, sealed up in a plastic sandwich bag along with a pen. A logbook. Underneath that were other things, plastic trinkets - what appeared to be a tiny turtle with a wind up stem sticking out of the side of the shell. A necklace with a whistle on it. A key lanyard made of braided nylon.

The bottom of the metal box had a layer of the geocaching tokens he'd found at Vantage. Some were plain wood. Others were metal and layered with enamel in bright colors and patterns. Mountains. Cartoon characters. Whatever that thing was, a little green alien. Who knew.

This time there was a folded up piece of paper tucked in the box, tied around something with a bit of blue yarn. The string had seen better days, faded on one end. It was tied in a careful neat little bow, and... there was that that scrawl of silver pen on one corner. "Professor Freeman," it said in the courier's so neat and careful handwriting.

The little package would fit easily in the palm of his avatar's hand. It was smaller than the rock she'd placed in the last one. Oddly light, but even through the paper he could feel odd, spindly shapes.

Once he untied it though, it slipped out of the carefully folded paper into his hand. What the courier had wrapped this item in was a printed picture of the Vantage horses at sunrise. Her silver writing was neatly on the bottom this time in the white space.

It was a small toy.

Hi, Professor -

I thought you'd like this place. This always has been one of my favorite trails to hike up here. The bridge is beautiful to walk across, but it's closed off until it's fixed. That was... wow, a pretty big hole.

I remembered what you said, about landscape being architecture, and designing with it. Around it. They did that here pretty well.

Waterfalls honestly design themselves though. Come back in the winter if you can. It's beautiful. They all ice over. It's amazing.

PS: Next set. This one's just- well, you'll see.

42.95°N 122.10°W

As before there was another set of coordinates below them.

PPS: Safe space here. Might be easier though to go up earlier or after 6 PM, less folks around.

Hope things are well -
R.

[Deleted]

This time, rather than drawing out each item one by one and setting them on the ground, Max left them inside the ammo box. It was large enough to fit everything, and a drier alternative than the mist-speckled soil. Only the notebook and pen he removed, bundled together in their plastic bag. It looked like another logbook. Maybe the courier had signed this one as well.

In doing so, he spotted the package tied in paper and yard.

Max frowned. He set the ammo box at his feet and lifted the package from it. It was tiny, smaller than the last one had been. Not round and smooth either. As he turned it over between his hands he felt the odd points beneath the wrapping.

It took a while to figure out how to loosen the bow.

The loose paper fell away. Max found himself holding a tiny horse. It lay in his palm, frozen in mid-gallop. Old and worn.

A hollow rushing echoed in his ears.

Distractedly, he glanced at the note. It was easy this time to recognise the courier's tidy writing. He read it stonily, until his eyes reached the farewell written at the bottom.

More coordinates. Another friendly note. Another small gift. From a Decepticon.

The note crumpled as his fist closed around it. Max lurched to his feet, angrily readying himself to hurl it into the brush. The horse would be swift to follow. It was so small it would likely disappear into the brush and dead leaves.

He hesitated.

Max stood in silence, while the waterfall trickled and rushed through the rocks in the background. Then he smoothed out the note again and folded it. He slipped it, together with the tiny horse, into the pocket of his avatar.

Heavily, he sat down on the log again and reached for the notebook.

[Feldspar]

Tiny pink flowers brushed against the hem of the avatar's jeans. Beads of water trickled down the delicate stems and into the clover-like leaves. Angel Falls murmured and filled the air with white noise. That was the thing about Earth, it- found things to fill those empty spaces. Silence here was never really absolute silence.

It had wind and water and animals; background sounds that were so different from mechanical ones. Never constant, never exact like a turning gear or a grumble of metal.

Nothing disturbed the mech but his own thoughts.

Opening the notebook up, it was like before. Names, dates, small notes scrawled in different color pen. Different handwriting, some sloppy, others neat, even a struggling hand that looked like it belonged to a child, the script very carefully printed between the blue lines of the page in block letters... along with a smiley face.

On the last page, a few entries from the top, was the courier's just so handwriting. The pen shimmered in the light.

She'd given the date, the time, and note about the rain and that the dippers were up playing in the falls, and signed it with 'Trackpony.'

A few lines below her, another geocacher had scrawled the same things and added in an 'omg dippers are adorable!'

[Deleted]

Subdued, Max studied the writing.

As he thought, it was a logbook. And like the last one he had found it was filled with different entries, written in dozens of different hands. On the last page he recognised the courier's handwriting. Her nickname as well.

With the notebook resting on his knee Max took the pen and held it beneath the last entry. He paused, struggling to find the right words. He really wasn't good at this sort of thing.

After a minute or two the pen scratched over the page.

Impressed by the falls. Too bad the bridge was out. Interesting structure. Never touching a tennis ball again.

The corner of his mouth twitched, a ghost of a smile.

– Fort.

He closed the book and sealed it and the pen back into their plastic bag. After packing up the ammo box and latching it shut he returned it to its place beneath the green ferns, behind the log. Unless you were looking closely you would never know it was there, waiting.

Max turned and walked back down the trail, his hand in his pocket. He felt the tiny horse inside it, prodding the edge of his thumb.

He had the next coordinates, to investigate if he so wished. But he had a little time to kill. Maybe he'd check out the lodge first.

[Feldspar]

The long trail loop meandered through the woods. It took Max past several more waterfalls, all of them different. Some were long drops of rushing white; others were like silver stairs, leading up into the green foliage and down into smooth basins. The trail was quiet for the most part, but along the way he'd pass other hikers. They would nod a friendly hello, pass with a smile.

A little bit later, the two bike riders he'd seen down below passed him as well with a wave, careful to slow down when they came on him. They were splattered with trail dirt and mud; but it didn't seem to bother them one bit as they cruised along and disappeared down into one of the gullies.

For the most part though, it was just Max and the woods and the trees. The sun was flickering through the overhead pines. It was warming up out here. When the broad maple leaves caught the light they would shine, lace-veined and delicate.

Coming down through a narrow, forested part of the trail, a deer stepped out of the bushes in front of him. It didn't seem afraid; aparently it saw all sorts of hikers and bikers and had realized long ago people up here didn't bother it except with cameras. The young buck paused to look at him, ears cupped forward, sniffed the air. Then it moved on down the hill and off into the trees without a backwards glance, black tail flicking.

Finally, the loop led out to where he had started from. The hike down from the top of the falls was far quicker than the one going up. Less switchbacks, maybe... or gravity being helpful.

The lodge sat in the sunshine smoke drifting from both chimneys. People were drifting in and out as well; there were more cars in the parking lot since he'd left. A family pushing a baby stroller headed for the open side doors. The white sandwich board pointed out the gift shop right ahead of him, and then the restaurant.

[Deleted]

The deer had been a surprised.

Max had stopped dead in his tracks upon spotting it, startled. But the animal had acted as if he were not even there. It had simply walked off again through the brush, unconcerned. He knew they were alerted by scent. Perhaps his avatar's lack of scent had led it to believe he was not a threat. Perhaps it was simply tame. Who knew.

By the time he reached the parking lot again the lodge was more active. Max eyed the cars in the lot, the busy humans in and out of the front doors. There was a restaurant on site - maybe it was food they were after. He'd lost track of the time.

A meal did not interest him. Neither did the thought of mingling with that many humans at once. One on one encounters were fine, but Max was leery of his ability to stand up to a small crowd of them all at once. Acting the part of another species difficult. Too many small gestures and cues to remember. Some were familiar, shared between humans and Cybertronians. Others were foreign to him.

However, the gift shop caught his eye. Max glanced around before veering in the direction the sandwich board pointed to. He had time. The courier had recommended going to the next set of coordinates before or after six pm anyway. He would stick his head into the shop, look around. Couldn't hurt.

[Feldspar]

When the glass and wood door to the gift shop was opened, an old brass bell hanging overhead jingled.

It was bigger than he might of expected. Three of the walls were covered with wood-textured slatboard. The fourth wall was the outside wall of the building and they'd left it to display the river-rock and mortar the structure was made of. Leaning up against that was a display of pamphlets.

Wide wooden beams ran the length of the ceiling, and white track lighting brightly lit up the display cases and walls. There were several free standing racks that held all sorts of trinkets, from necklaces to name-engraved keychains.

Glass cases, racks of sunglasses, postcards. Food and treats - huckleberry flavored taffy and jam. There were T-shirts and coffee mugs. Little trinkets and pins. Snow globes that said Oregon on them and had fake pine trees standing within. Jewelry and glass art, all colors and shapes; expensive platters and hand-blown ornaments, vases, bowls, paperweights. Also simple leather wristbands with one single bead. Much of the glass was marked as made from Mount St. Helens ash.

Magnets. Small toys and stuffed animals; wolves and deer and little howling coyotes. A plush mountain goat set on curved pieces of wood with a little saddle on it.

Even rocks. Lots of rocks and minerals. A scattering of trilobite fossils.

On the walls were many framed photographs for sale taken by local artists of the falls and other places and parks in the state of Oregon. Mostly, they were of landscapes; pine trees, the Cascade mountains. There were a few wildlife photos too, some foxes and coyotes, a herd of horses in an arid landscape picking their way down a ridge.

The gift shop was empty except for the counter clerk and couple of hikers perusing the fridge of soda and bottled water. The clerk was older man in a green apron standing behind the glass counter, wiping it down with an old faded rag and a bottle of bright blue Windex.

He looked up through his round glasses to smile at Max.

"Morning, sir," he said politely. "Anything I can help you find?"

[Deleted]

Walking slowly, Max wandered the shop. He looked around warily.

It was filled with... things.

Some were things he couldn't identify. Little human things, like jars and wrapped foods. Strange decorations made of delicate glass. Small furry animals. The keychains he recognised. Miko had one of those. He picked up a snow globe and stared at it in bafflement. Fake snow whirled around the fake pine trees inside. But what the hell was this thing.

In the back of his mind he noted that this was the first time he had stepped foot in a human shop before.

When he set down the snow globe a photograph caught his eye. Frowning, Max turned and approached the place where it hung on the wall. He stopped in front of it and studied it, his hands in his pockets. More horses. Not running this time. Max glanced aside and saw other photos with other animals amidst mountainous landscapes. Pine trees. Lots of pine trees. He absently touched the little horse toy in his pocket.

The voice rang out, and Max spooked.

"Uh, no," he said as he turned to face the man. He cleared his throat and tried to speak a little less gruffly. "No, sorry, I'm just looking. First time here. Do you mind if I take one of those?"

He pointed to the rack of pamphlets.

[Feldspar]

One of the myriad of key chains had a "Max" printed on it. Along with a bunch of other common human names.

There was a radio playing softly in the background; the rise and fall of soft jazz. The low notes of the trumpet and the counterpoint of the piano were barely audible. The bikers were still trying to debate the finer points of Gatoraide versus Aquafina and laughing to themselves.

Who knew what the heck humans used the fake-snow filled globe for.

On some planets, it was probably considered a biological weapon. Here it simply appeared to be a rather ugly paperweight. It apparently cost $6.99 for this thing which seemed to have no real use. Well, in a pinch it could likely be a weapon. If thrown hard enough at someone else's head.

The picture of the herd of horses that had caught Max's attention had an identification card displayed on the wall underneath it.

Kiger Mustangs, North Slope. Photographed June 2013, Steens Mountains - M. Jannel. Framed, limited edition. $250.00. Unframed print, $75.00.

"Sorry," the man replied with an apologetic smile. His hand fell still on the rag on top of the glass cabinet. "Didn't mean to startle you there. Not a problem, look all you want."

"Hmm? Oh, the brochures? Absolutely, grab which ones you need. There's a couple of new hiking ones they reprinted recently. Painted Hills and the McKenzie River Trail leading into Tamolitch."

Max would find those ones on the left hand top row.

There were at least forty different brochures. Some were for hiking and other Oregon recreational purposes. Lakes for boating, rivers, oh look, you could go fly a small plane at this airport- a demo for only a hundred dollars. John Day fossil beds, Sea Lion caves at the Oregon Coast. Mount Hood, the Three Sisters. Crater Lake. There were other brochures for restaurants, shopping and casinos - as well as ones for the Ashland Shakespeare Festival. Oh and Tillamook cheese. OMSI. The Portland Zoo and Carousel.

Pick a place in Oregon and there was a sight to see, a thing to do. There were also a few other brochures from other states. Washington - Mount St. Helens that name was sure familiar, it was on a lot of the glass trinkets in here. Nevada. Fly to Las Vegas for only $69.00 round trip on Southwest Airlines!

[Deleted]

Max nodded at him. "Thanks."

There was nothing in the shop he could afford. No money. Not that he knew the local currency to begin with. Huh. Now that he thought of it, if he was going to walk around like this as his human avatar that was something he was going to have to put a little research into in the near future.

Max stepped over to the rack of pamphlets. These at least were free. He stood in front of the rack and scanned the rows of folded paper. Primus, there were a lot of landmarks to visit in this part of the country.

Nothing he recognised. Lakes and rivers and mountains. Scenic locations and human attractions that meant something to the hikers and tourists who came to this place to walk the trails, but were foreign to him. No, wait.

One place was familiar.

Frowning, he picked up a Crater Lake brochure and flipped it open. He read it intently, his brow furrowed.

Crater Lake. The next set of coordinates.

At least he had an idea now of where he was going next.

"Excuse me," he said. Max held up the brochure in his hand and waved it. "Sorry to bother you. Do you have one of these for the Wahkeena Trailhead?"

[Feldspar]

The pamphlet detailed all the things about Crater Lake. It talked about the hiking trails. The lake itself; one of the seven wonders of Oregon, ninth deepest lake in the world. It apparently had no creeks or rivers feeding it; it was completely replenished by rain and melt-water, and that caused a clarity unheard of in most waters.

Oregon Pika and the Whitebark pine. It detailed a few hikes up to the rim, and some of the sightseeing points- and it was full of pictures. Deep caldera; waters a glossy blue that rivaled some of the metallic paints that Max's fellow Autobots wore.

The other customers finally decided on something bright red to drink. The fridge opened with a click - the compressor whirred. They'd apparently changed their mind in the two seconds between deciding and door opening, and now were debating orange.

"I do!" the clerk replied at his request, bobbing his head in a helpful nod. He put aside his bottle of cleaning solution and his damp rag before he reached for a pamphlet that was leaning up against the register. He slipped it out of the metal holder and set it down on the counter for Max. "Have one for Wahkeena and one for Larch Mountain and Bridal Veil, too."

He fished out a second pamphlet from behind the first and held them both out towards Max. "Here you go, sir. If you haven't been up Larch Mountain, it's a fantastic trail. Long day though. Pretty much an all day hike if you choose to take the whole thing. Sherrard Point's one of the best views in Oregon on a clear day."

[Deleted]

Max accepted the pamphlets. He picked out one at random and held it up for closer examination. Larch Mountain. He studied it without saying a word.

“Thank you,” he said. He waved the pamphlets and gave the clerk a tight–lipped smile. “Appreciate the assistance. I’ll keep that in mind about Larch Mountain. Maybe I’ll be back out this way again sometime.”

With a nod Max stepped back from the counter, towards the door. “Nice shop. I’ll try to stop by again next time.”

As he exited the shop he had to admit that the chance of him returning was slim. Then again, he never would have expected to find himself in a place like this in the first place. So who knew.

Outside, Max took a moment to get his bearings. Once he recognised the trail leading back to the place where his tank form lay hidden he set out down it. The pamphlets swung from one hand. Crater Lake. Maybe he had something to leave at the next cache now.

The tiny horse was a slight weight in his pocket.

[Feldspar]

"Welcome!" the man replied, and went to pick up his rag again. His fingers curled around the Windex; the bright blue fluid sloshed up inside the bottle and left foaming bubbles climbing up the inside of the plastic. "It's a grand hike. Most folks drive up to the summit nowadays since the road's only open from June to maybe October. Snowfall hits and there's no one going up there except on their own two feet. Well, or a snowmobile."

He chuckled, nodded in return, and then lifted his hand in a wave. "Thanks. You have a good rest of the one today."

As Max left, the brass bell jingled and then silenced as the door shut behind him.

Hiking back down was definitely faster than clambering up. The switchbacks were easy, the old wooden rails guiding him down the well-worn path. Behind him, the sound of the roaring falls drifted back into the sound of the trees. The trail back down was quiet; no other humans, just birds twittering and chirping to accompany him. The air was clean and cool. Overhead, the dull grey sky had become broken blue, peeking between the overhead branches.

Pale sunshine dappled the forest floor. Max's tread was silenced by seasons of pine needles and soft soil.

Nothing had disturbed where the mech had hidden himself. In fact, nestled in that hole among the greys and dull greens it was truly difficult to make his mechanical shape out. The woods did a grand job of breaking up the casual eye with vertical trunks and patches of deep shadow surrounded with various textures of undergrowth.

Also helping conceal his large outline were a few wet Vine Maple leaves that had dropped on him during the time he'd been gone.

[Deleted]

The woods were so thick and the trunks so close that he was surprised by how difficult it was to spot his tank form where it lay concealed in the low ground and brush. Even his dull blue and grey urban camouflage scheme seemed to fade in amongst the foliage.

Driving out of the pines an into a ground bridge was going to be difficult, though. Hm.

Max absently flicked off a maple leaf as he climbed the tank and wrenched open the top hatch. He let the pamphlets drop into it like leaves before his avatar climbed down inside as well.

All right. That was two caches down. And he had found the coordinates for the third.

His engine fired with a rumble. As he transmitted his request for another ground bridge Max couldn't help but notice the wary curiosity in Ratchet's voice as the medic complied. He was going to get asked about this venture of his at some point or another, he just knew it.

The portal spiralled open behind him. With effort, Maximus reversed out of the earthy depression in the ground in which he had been sitting and backed awkwardly through the bridge.

Crater Lake next.