Ep 2 -- Dam Tourists (Closed)

[Dart]

There was a long moment of companionable quiet between them. The courier seemed content with silence, not to ask for more words - they weren't needed. Her avatar's hand curled loose on the steering wheel, the car rattled gently over the rough terrain. The nice thing about this section of land was that it wasn't as sharp and rising as even the canyons they had run together that night. Red Rock and the outlying areas were sharp- steep rounded lifts of stone that dropped into narrow crevasses.

If it had been that, it would have been impassable by vehicle. Even Max's mighty tank mode would have been unable to navigate that mess in places and one of his systems might have suggested he scan a mountain goat instead.

In front of them, the edge of the sharp dip in the earth loomed.

Dry tangles of twigs and spikes brittle brush crunched under the sports car's tires as she eased up closer towards it. They lined the edges of these areas where the rains collected during the storms. It could flood in a matter of seconds, going from bone dry to red-mud rushing sloughs that could drown a human in an instant (and often sadly did.)

In this country there was really no place for water to seep quietly down so that the landscape could absorb it. The weather here was not soft or gentle. It was blazing sun that baked the terrain, or sudden roaring thunderstorms that brought large amounts of water with them. Dangerous if you weren't aware of the signs.

The courier took care to avoid as many of the plants as possible; Dart was always picking trails that hid her tracks as best she could. Or maybe she simply didn't want to kill the brush that clung so tenaciously to life.

Carefully, the car's sloping nose crept up almost to the edge. Her side mirrors shifted forward, flicking back once or twice before tipping forward, focusing on the distance.

As a robot, it would have been nothing. Tuck her toes and leap easily across. Heck, Maximus could have hopped across it. As a low slung car, the idea of doing a bad 80's show and attempting to leap across it would be hilarious until she actually oh, didn't make the other side. No turbo boost in this Trans-Am, thanks.

Getting across this was all they needed. After that it was a fairly smooth stretch of land and in the distance - there it was, the twisting barren road of Kingman Wash that stretched both back into one point of the Calico hills and off towards that traffic that the mech had heard all morning.

The young woman's tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth, as if she was concentrating. Her head lowered; her eyes calculated three or more different paths down, picked the one that looked the easiest. The Trans-Am huffed out a blast of air from underneath the front bumper, and dipped in the front. The rear of the car wiggled slightly, as if gathering itself.

"Nope, nope," she said. "I can get us through this. It's just a little more and then we have the road and - from there, it's just a matter of getting to the highway. Hang on, sir."

With that, the car eased back. Carefully, she started to nose herself down over the embankment. She got hung up a bit and had to tap the gas. Underneath the tires gravel sprayed back for a few meters, kicked up by the power of the car's rear-wheel drive. Both occupants would bounce hard in their seats as she cleared the edge; there was a sharp scraping noise from her undercarriage.

Halfway down though, Dart hit a section of the slope that gave way under them.

The big car spun so fast that she had no time to react. Her hood reared upwards as the tail of the Trans-Am was now abruptly below them. Of course this was rather unfortunate to both passengers within. They were were now looking up into that bright azure sky on a very awkward angle.

With the distinct and uncomfortable feeling they were sliding backwards.

[Deleted]

As an avatar, 'Max' was virtually indestructible.

Hell, as a robot he had been through a lot. He lived through the worst of the fighting on Cybertron and taken his knocks. Crushing damage, slashing damage, heat and warp and stress damage. Once he had been hit by a heavy artillery shell that had broken his back in two places. If he had ever been leery of startling developments in an unusual situation, he had long since had that apprehension kicked out of him.

Now, one of his eyebrows shot up.

"Uh," he said.

Out of a lack of anything better to do he quickly grabbed at the dash. By the way he set his jaw and braced himself awkwardly back against the seat as the car went fishtailing down the embankment it was clear he was not that accustomed to riding as a passenger in a vehicle that wasn't some sort of personnel transport. He stared out the windshield at the blue sky above them.

"I'm not exactly an expert on Earth vehicles, like cars," he said. "I leave that to other Autobots. But are you sure you don't need some sort of, uh… traction or guidance control in off-road scenarios like this?"

[Dart]

The courier's avatar was hanging onto the wheel like her life depended on it. Her fingers were wrapped so hard that he could see them flicker blue. In front of them, the car's headlights were at full pop-up. Engine sputtering, the car's lifters rattled and chattered.

"Erk," she replied.

Underneath his grip the dashboard was secure and solid; so was the seat behind him. Over his shoulder, the seatbelt locked with the pressure of his chest against it. Maximus would be able to feel the rear tires try pushing; she lurched forward with an odd lunging hop that no Earth vehicle should have ever done. Front tires scrabbled and then they would both feel the car around them sink deeper into the rock and sand of the hill. It continued the slow slide backwards, and now the front of the car swung back, sweeping the landscape past them like a tilt-a-whirl at a county fair; a blur of red, gold, and flashing sky-blue.

"No no no, you're right, you're right-" Dart breathed. The brake pedal depressed slightly, but this only added to the speed the car slid down the embankment. The hood tipped, and the Trans-Am leaned hard to the side, pitching them both into the seatbelts again. Across the trunk, her spoiler flicked up and to the side, counterbalancing against gravity.

"Traction would be great, wonderful, uh... any time now, traction..."

You know, if you wreck right now, this is going to be one of the most embarrassing moments of your short little life, Dart. Yep. She could see it now, and at the end of this she'd totally understand if he threw open the door and said, you know what, it's a great day for a walk. Without Maximus here of course, she'd have just jumped onto her feet; wait, wait -

If she had been a robot, it would have been easier, don't fight the terrain, just--

"Right," she said out loud. She straightened her shoulders; the car huffed out a sharp snort from the vents, and then she just stopped fighting the hill. She spun, slid, but she didn't try to brake now. Instead, the courier let the weight of the rear pull the nose back level, sliding with the sand and dirt instead of fighting against it.

That's how you did it, when you mis-stepped, you let it come to a halt on its own, not shoving off with a toe; not frantically kicking off-- you just kept your feet. Once it stopped...

The car slid sideways down the rest of the embankment. After ten meters or so there was a lurch as the tires touched the hardpacked ground of the washout beneath them. Dust smoked up as the fallout slid away underneath and scattered out from under the car.

She waited and slowly, the nose drifted a few more inches and then came to a halt as well, four tires solid and steady. They were facing down the wash, and the overhanging edges stippled them in cooler shadow.

Then she looked over at the man beside her and offered up an embarrassed smile.

"You okay?" she asked automatically.

[Feldspar]

The dust gently settled. It took a moment for it to clear from the dusty front windshield, but when it did Max saw a normal horizon - the wash below and the blue sky above. The alarming slope was gone.

Beneath him the car was still. He could no longer hear the scattershot of lose rock and gravel against her undercarriage. He slowly raised his hands from the dash and held them in the air for a moment before lowering them gingerly. The seatbelt held firm. They were right-side up. That had been a disconcerting experience.

Max looked over at the girl in the driver seat.

"Can't say I'm all that used to being a passenger," he said. "Especially riding over this kind of terrain. But speaking as a - well, let's say an off-roader myself, you handled that well. Good job not fighting the slide and letting gravity do its job."

Dart's avatar sat in the seat, her fingers still tight on the wheel. Well, imaginary fingers on a not-so imaginary wheel. Surprisingly those fingers were a lovely shade of even more pale, and her face had lost a bit of color. Avatar displaying emotions right on the outside; no hiding them with the grace and dignity that giant robots were capable of....

"Thank you," she said after a moment. Which was good, those words, what she had been thinking was that it was a good thing that the avatar wasn't so perfectly made that it did something like wet the seat in terror. His matter-of-fact words to her caused her to huff out a soft puff through vents. "That is really not something I've tried to do. I off-road with feet not tires, you know?"

A pause, and then she managed a little grin again. "Aw, honest, you're a good passenger, You didn't reach over, cross yourself, and grab the wheel. Although, maybe that would have stopped us faster. I'm envying your tank mode right now, trust me."

Though he looked bemused at 'crossing yourself', Max nodded.

"It does have its uses," he said. "Until you want to inconspicuously go for a drive among the local population. Then it's not quite so enviable."

He tentatively patted the arm rest, unsure of avatar etiquette when riding within a fellow Cybertronian's alternate mode. "I'll admit, I was a little skeptical at first of how well this mode would tackle the desert given its low suspension. But that was well done. I'm going to guess though that you spend more time in your root mode than this one. You seem to handle the terrain a lot more confidently in one versus the other."

Another soft vent of air; the courier was relaxing a bit more. Her windshield wipers flicked back and forth once, trying to brush away some of the tawny dust that coated the glass. She didn't use any of the cleaner - all it would do was turn it into a muddy, streaked mess and she was already enough of that. All the time.

At the little pat, the rear-view mirror tilted even as the young woman settled back into her seat. She slowly took her foot off the brake and then gently tapped on the gas; easing herself forward down the flat area of the wash. There had to be a place where they could drive out smoother. She took it very slow though, careful to avoid the worst ruts.

"Me too," she admitted. "I mean, it's not an off-road car except in movies, and then it's only there to get blown up by the bad guys. Er, and aw, thanks..."

Across the trunk, the spoiler swished slightly from side to side before it flattened back in a careful line. "I don't- I don't drive much. Actually I bet you drive more than I do. I mean, it's great to hide or like what we're doing today but most of the time - no, I just run where I need to go."

Max considered his words.

"I think I spend most of my time in root mode too," he said. "It's more practical. Especially here on Earth."

A wry look tugged the corner of his mouth. "The humans don't question the tank mode at least. Mostly just what it's doing when they can see it. I gather it's not that common for wartime vehicles to enter civilian districts. I was rather explicitly warned against that."

He swayed when the car rolled forward, then settled back into the seat. He propped his elbow against the window sill. "Anyway, yeah, the vehicle mode works for camouflage, like you say. Did you scan yours when you got established here in Nevada, or was it selected for you due to size or weight class restrictions?"

"It is, to be honest," she agreed, as the car slipped slowly up the wash. She lost a bit of traction on her threadbare tires and kicked a spray of sand before she caught herself and steadied, driving forward. Shadows and sunshine flickered across his arm, angled in from outside through her rolled up window.

"No, no, it's not common at all," she agreed. "It would be considered totally out of the ordinary. I mean, you see transports a lot on the roads. I don't know what they're called though, they're the big ones. That hold lots of soldiers or gear, I think. I see them sometimes in convoys on the interstate."

"I think it was more selected because it blended in on the coast," she murmured. "Like California. Or maybe it was on TV that day, who knows. Not so much here, in Nevada. There's a lot of expensive cars here, lots of really expensive ones. It's because it's dry. I think. Well, money too. Lots of people here with a lot of money. Or retired."

Max nodded. He had seen plenty of sports cars during his short time in Nevada. Well, he had seen a lot of Autobots with sports car modes, anyway. He had assumed they were common to the area.

Then again, the courier didn't strike him as being all that similar to the cars found in Vegas, which he had been assured were indeed absurdly expensive. Her vehicle mode was low and sleek, and presumably built for speed, but some of the vehicle modes sported by his colleagues looked like something that could only have been designed in a wind tunnel. Perhaps hers was an older model. It did look a little boxier.

"I've heard that," he said. "That the Vegas area in particular can be pretty affluent. Have you been to the city before?"

"Once," she said, glancing away from the landscape. "Once. It was a while ago, though. I don't remember too much about it except..."

A pause. "That it was pretty at night, but- but that it was overwhelming."

It had been. Light and sound and smell. Everything from every angle, it was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time. Yet beautiful, with the colors and the lights and the people, just the solid wall of people all smelling slightly different, perfumes and sweat and breath and even their laundry detergent or whatever drink they were drinking as they walked. Time slowed to a crawl and as much as she'd wanted to get to the end of the strip she'd finally had no choice but to bolt off somewhere mid-strip and sneak out through the darkened streets of the service areas.

"Have you been?" she wondered as her tires slipped over the rocks and she nosed the long slope of the front end of the car down the gully. The terrain was more hard-pack here, she was gaining confidence again. A quick search of the area revealed that there was a section up ahead that she thought the car could easily climb up. Good, back on track.

From what Max had gleaned, a lot of people didn't tend to remember Vegas all that way. He gathered that alcohol was involved. That obviously wasn't the case here.

Max glanced at the girl beside him.

"Me?" he said. "No, not really. Not to the city itself. I suppose it's common knowledge that the other Autobots have. They seem to enjoy it. I guess it's supposed to be - well - as you put it. Overwhelming."

He lifted his hand and absently studied it. "I suppose now that I'm getting a handle on this avatar I'll have to give it a try. I'm not really sure what the point would be, but I've been told it's one of those places you need to visit at least once while in Nevada. Is that true?"

"They're lucky," she agreed wistfully before she nodded. There wasn't even the slightest bit of hesitation from her. "Yes. But- it's one of those places you should go with someone, I think. Does that make sense?"

"Honestly, I don't know if it is common knowledge, but I assumed they had. I mean, it's close and it's- well I dunno. The stories I hear about Cybertron - well the old stories, not the new stuff - make me think that Vegas lights might be the closest you'd get on Earth to that sort of moment."

"Aw, and the point would be... just to see it for you," she offered, rolling her shoulder in a little shrug as if she herself was unsure a bit. "Well that would be my point, I guess."

Max wondered who he would go with. Someone with a car, or who was otherwise good at impersonating one.

With his elbow still on the sill he closed his hand and leaned against his knuckles. "I've heard something similar myself," he said. "I think it's the lights, yeah. There was a lot of light back on Cybertron back when it was a fully functional planet, or so I've been told."

He paused. "Although I'm willing to bet there were no signs back home shaped like giant neon cowboys. I've been told I need to see those too. Maybe I'll make the trip. Something to pass the time would be welcome. There's not a whole lot to do out in the desert otherwise. I think I've seen a lot more of the badlands west of here than I probably needed to."

He was starting to almost miss the ground bridge.

The Trans-Am dipped slightly and then angled upwards. The courier had found a low, gradual slope out of the wash and was using it to her best ability. She was careful not to put on too much speed; the tip of her tongue poked out briefly from her avatar's lips as she narrowed her eyes in concentration. Slow. Take it easy. No spinning. There was a thunk as a rock smacked into her undercarriage and scraped along her air dam before she cleared it. The nose of the car rocked upwards.

She crested the edge; there was a final scrabble of dust and tires as she lurched forward into a hop to put them back on higher ground, safe and sound. The car hesitated and then the headlights lifted a tiny bit as the vehicle shifted, a tiny bit of a shake from nose to tail. Resettling herself before she caught her bearings.

Ahead of them was that sudden stretch of long red road, and the sports-car gave a happy chirp of lifter. Oh good, it may not have been a great road but it was a road and Dart was happy to see it. "Kingman Wash," she told him. "Only a few miles down that and then it leads straight onto the highway."

With that, she got back into gear and headed for it. At least this section of the area was driveable, no more big ruts. It was pretty flat actually- all she had to do was avoid as much brush and rock as possible.

"Me too. Been told that, that is," she agreed after a moment. Then she looked up at him, peering through her tangled bangs and laughing at the joke. "No, no neon cowboys, and I never saw that either, but it's on all the postcards. You should. Then you can tell me all about it, I'd love to- oh yeah. Me too. On the badlands. Nevada's... um..."

A pause. "Pretty much like this. Dry and flat and tan."

Max leaned forward at the sight of the road. He frowned. That had to lead to the dam. They had covered a good bit of ground to reach it.

He sank back again as the car accelerated towards it. The ride was a little smoother now, less jarring as they passed over hard-packed earth rather than loose dirt and rock. The odd scrubby little bush sailed past, but that was about it. He could imagine that if he were a proper human the rough drive would have bumped a few things loose.

"I had wondered," he said drily. He met her gaze and found himself returning it with a faint smile, much to his surprise. "I'd been all over the Mojave before that, and it seemed pretty uniform. Dirt, rocks, and brush. Then I ended up in the Black Rock area, and it's not much more than sand and rock and some mountain ranges. It didn't seem like there was much green vegetation out here. I think the only large body of water I can recall seeing is Lake Mead. And this river here."

He paused. "And the Canyon."

"The Mojave is beautiful," she said. "At night. You can see all the stars, it's so dark there." She looked thoughtful for a moment. It was, and part of her wanted to laugh because that was one of the places she'd sent him while she was geocaching. To this little place in the Mojave where there was this cool natural rock arch that framed that silent galaxy. If you sat in place long enough, she'd always felt like you could feel the universe move around you. Maybe she'd written that in the log book too, she couldn't remember.

"But it is pretty uniform," she agreed. "Black Rock too. It's - well, there's no humans around for the most part in those places, I guess, right?"

She wanted to ask something more but caught herself. No, not a good idea to ask what he was doing in those places. Things. Autobot things, no doubt. He could move there, though, so no wonder they sent him. All the silly sports cars like her would be creeping along, haha.

She paused. "Lake Mead is interesting," she murmured. "You can see how low it's gotten on the stones around it, and - yeah, the Canyon. It's all part of the Colorado. All of it kinda goes together. Wait until we get to the dam, looking at Lake Mead is- it's different."

"Crater Lake?" Dart asked. "You saw that, that's a big lake. You should go to- wait, You've never seen the ocean? Er, not even in Antarctica?"

Crater Lake, that's right. The volcanic mountain with the amazing view. Now that Max thought about it, he could still remember how crystal clear the water had been.

Her question brought his mind back from where it had wandered.

"The ocean?" he said. His frown deepened. "No, I don't think I have. Hm. I don't recall any of the places I've been sent to being near any bodies of water that large. When I went to the poles I was inland enough that it was mostly just ice and snow, or tundra. Not much to see all around. I liked it though. It was quiet, compared to here."

He thought. "Seen a fair bit of snow now that I think of it. I've been up in the mountains, too. I think it was the Swiss Alps. Had to pick up a pair of Autobots recently landed there. Crashed, more like it. Impressive area. Very hard terrain."

The courier flinched slightly. It was an automatic reaction and one she couldn't hide well at that word. Well maybe it was the idea, the story. "They- in the Alps?" she echoed. "I can't imagine how- I mean, I can, but- oh gosh I've seen TV about the Alps. It seems like awful terrain to do a rescue mission on..."

Please let it have been a rescue mission, she thought to herself, squishing down slightly in her seat as if that somehow might protect her from crashing into -- okay, there was nothing here to crash into. Except area 51, and well, that just would have been a laugh. Well, half a laugh anyway, erk.

"They sent you in for that?" she said, managing to give a little whistle before she cocked her head slightly. "I could see it. You climb and move well in bad terrain - better than a lot of folks I've seen."

Max chuckled.

"I think it's mostly because I'm a large build," he said. "It performs well in that kind of extreme terrain, at least. Have you seen images of the really high up, remote peaks in the Alps? Not the green slopes, the maximum elevation reaches, with sheer ravines thousands of feet down. That's where we were. It was all rock and snow, some of it as deep as my knees. That's a lot deeper when you're a robot half my size."

Oddly, despite how irritating that rescue had proven, something about the memory of it made his smile almost return. "Anyway, the two idiots I was sent to fetch were fine. Banged up, but nothing life-threatening. It was a tough spot to land in, but everyone made it out fine. Kinda liked those mountains. I'd go back if I could."

He glanced at her curiously. "You ever been to areas like that?"

A nod. "I've seen them on television," she replied. "Well, on nature shows. With Ibex and stuff, that sort of terrain. It's just- it's like..."

She shook her head. Strands of her blonde ponytail stuck to her neck. Surprisingly, her hair wasn't all one solid color on the avatar, it had shades of pale and dark intermingled, like the way things faded in the sun. "I don't think we have anything like that here. Well not in the Pacific Northwest, I think..." A frown and she studied the terrain in front of them for a moment. "The Alps are orogens. Like the Rocky Mountains. Canada. Not like Crater Lake or St. Helens. It's a totally different thing when you see them in person."

"No wonder they sent you in," she said, with a bit of awe. Snow up to his knees. A lighter mech might have moved faster but in this case it sounded like they needed power. "You were big enough to get over it and not get mired, right, and-- aw, I'm glad they were okay."

She hadn't wanted to ask, but the Trans-Am's vents breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Even if they were idiots," Dart offered helpfully, with a laugh and a little lift and wave of her hand. "I bet they're amazing mountains. That would be just- a neat thing to see too. Totally different animals and plants and terrain."

"I've been in Canada. Alaska more though. Alaska has that sort of terrain, I think. A little of it. Kichatna Mountains, maybe that's the closest I've been."

"Kichatna Mountains." Max furrowed his brow as he thought. "I don't think I know them. They're in Alaska, aren't they? That's about the extent of my knowledge."

He scratched his jaw. "I don't think I've been to Alaska, come to think of it. Got sent to retrieve another crashed shuttle in Canada, and took a trip up to the Arctic to see what it was like, but that's about the closest I've gotten. The terrain up that way is interesting. Gets pretty flat, but that didn't bother me. It was easy to move through."

A pained look came over his face. "The exact opposite was one of the worst places I've been. Another crashed shuttle, this time somewhere in South America. I never did find out where I was sent. It was dense brush, huge trees. Very damp and humid. A jungle?"

Dart blinked for a second.

"Wow. That's... that's a lot of crashes," she mumbled. It was. Well, maybe that was why Starscream always sneered about how Autobots couldn't fly. Apparently they weren't good at landing either.

The courier leaned back in the bucket seat, as if she was crunching away from the very idea of it. Then she nodded. "That sounds a lot like jungle terrain. Super humid, hard to move through - the plants and the mud and stuff make it tough. It's great for dropping down and hiding in- it'll break up your outline, but it's tough to find anything in it. Was it really that bad? What happened?"

Then she caught herself. She'd been so drawn in by his voice, by the down to earth way he described the places he'd been, that she just- forgot about those careful spaces for a again. The ones that didn't ask questions. "If you can't tell me that's okay, honest. I've never been through much of South America."

Max sighed. It WAS a lot of crashes.

"It won't hurt to tell," he said. "Without elaborating too much, the Autobot stole a shuttle and managed to bring it down rough in that jungle. I'm not sure if it was damaged before he got to it, or after, and that's why it went down, or if he knew how to fly but not how to land - I couldn't tell you. The wreckage was up in flames when I arrived - post-impact fire - but the little ass inside it was all right."

He snorted. "Well, he was once we got the post-impact misunderstanding sorted out. That's a long story short, but you get the gist of how it. I won't forget trying to run through that dense forest anytime soon. I was no good in that kind of brush. Not my favourite place on the planet."

Dart had been carefully feeling her way down the road. It wasn't much of one under her tires - well, okay it was a road. The edges were soft and sandy, but the road itself was hard packed gravel and dry dust that flicked out from under her threadbare tires and smoked the air behind them. The courier moved at a good pace, but was watching carefully- there were rocks embedded into the ground, jagged teeth ready to take a nip at her undercarriage.



The mech's sigh carried through the cab and she glanced over. There was a quick sympathetic smile. Oh boy, yep, that was the sound of a fellow who'd been picking up after way too many other mechs. She knew, she was a Decepticon and asking about Autobot movements wasn't... polite. However he seemed to have taken it in the spirit she meant of, no, not really caring about them, I want to hear about your part of it.

"Oh wow," she said, and then couldn't help but laugh a little. "I take it he wasn't um, friendly or contrite about stealing it or uh, having it land without style." Dart was careful to avoid saying crash for some reason. Okay, a lot of reason. "Misunderstanding, gosh... um, I dunno, if you're saving someone from themselves how does it become... well, okay, no I know how it might, and-- oh brush. Brush like that is horrible for anything. It just - I know. It's hard. I can't blame you. I'd have a problem with it for sure. It cuts down speed and the way you can move and if something is smaller, it has an advantage."

"I just kind of wonder how - how no one ever notices those things. Like- like people. How do they not notice crashing UFO's."

"I wonder that sometimes myself," said Max. "For now I just tell myself that it's fortunate the shuttles that do arrive tend to make landfall in inhospitable areas."

He paused. "Well, inhospitable for humans anyway. And if they are detected by satellite or radar on arrival, then perhaps our human allies go out of their way to suppress that information. I couldn't tell you for certain."

It was no secret that the Autobots had friends in the military. Max felt safe saying that much. He leaned his chin back on his knuckles and relaxed. "Anyway, I just thank Primus that that particular Autobot crashed in the middle of nowhere, outside of civilization. I'm not sure exactly what my thoughts are on the idea of introducing him into human society. Or just society in general. I think you might have actually encountered him."

He frowned. "Yeah. Back in the city? The what - the subway?"

"I could see that," Dart replied after a moment. "They - I mean the humans, they wouldn't want the panic it would cause. I mean, it could get really ugly, not because humans want to arbitrarily kill Cybertronians..."

She trailed off for a moment and then the Trans-Am pulled air over the engine in a very concerned sound. "Well some of them do, I guess, but honest, most of them would just... be scared. Or- or amazed. Which makes sense, we're pretty amazing, like we stepped out of a giant monster movie in Japan."

A smile, and then she inclined her head. "Met him in the Subway-- oh, in Portland! The light rail tunnels, yes, um- oh, he was - well I'm guessing not the one with Miko, right, so it---"

A faint wince. "Has to be the one that shot me that day."

Maximus was still vague on what had exactly happened that night in the city. Ratchet had given him a curt and reluctant briefing, and the gist of it had been for him to provide backup to whomever needed it. Details afterwards had been slim as well.

But he did remember that the courier had been injured. His frown deepened.

"He did?" he said. "I'd wondered. The one who was with Miko... yeah, I know the Autobot you mean. He's not a marksman. I guess it makes sense that it was the red menace that shot you."

He hesitated again. Normally an Autobot shooting a Decepticon was something he took grim satisfaction in. But this time-

Max's brain caught up to his audials.

"Wait." He stared. "You know Miko? Know her by name?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He did. I just- I missed him. He was good at hiding, honestly, just totally missed him." She rolled her shoulder, as if in memory of that ache. Really the shot hadn't been that bad, it had hurt, sure. She'd had worse though. Like when Pyrotech shoved his finger into it. A thousand times worse.

The young woman's avatar blinked. "I - oh! No, I'm sorry. Uh, I- I---"

"I guessed," the courier offered. "I mean back at the canyon, your daughter's name was Miko. You- totally didn't have to make it up, if that made sense. I believed you. I mean, if you didn't know a Miko personally, how do you throw out a human name, and especially one that's-- it's kind of not a common one among humans of Arizona. That- that and she was totally comfortable around Autobots. I dunno, I just- I guessed."

A little bit of a fidget, but not at him. Just a nervous twitch - Dart was desperately trying to sense if she'd crossed some line she wasn't supposed to have. "I know maybe I'm not supposed to say her name but..."

"She looked like a Miko to me," Dart finished honestly and then wished she could take that back just as soon as she said it. Great, was that speciest? Was it worse, on some level? Hi little Asian girl, gosh gee, your name has to be some anime thing like off TV, oh boy. Knowing her luck that young lady was named Susan or Katy. Gosh, yep, you'd feel dumb. Dumber than you already feel, Decepticon. Good job. Gold sticker for you.

"I don't- I dunno. Calling her 'that human' doesn't quite sit ok with me. Or any other of those terms, you know the ones I'm sort of talking about. No more than they call us 'that robot thing.'"

"I picked up her guitar," she mumbled. "She left it behind. I felt bad."

Max had forgotten - he HAD used Miko's name in the canyon, just as Dart said. He had assumed it was a common human name. Only much later had he learned it was unique to the area.

And it was true that Miko did not go out of her way to downplay her connection to the Autobots. As he gathered, the exact opposite was usually the case.

"I see," he said.

Max fell silent, thinking. It was odd to hear a Decepticon voice their reluctance to talk down to a human. Then again, perhaps not this Decepticon. As he mused over that he said aloud, absently, "She seems to carry that instrument everywhere. I'm guessing she had it with her when she stowed away with her Autobot friend. I didn't know you returned it to her. Some of the others might not be so glad to know you did that. It's… loud. Especially the way Miko plays it."

Dart looked over at him. The blue of her eyes was the same shade as the glass of her optics. She visibly relaxed as she realized she hadn't committed any terrible sins (well, except the ones in her own head) and found a smile again. It was a shy one once more. "Yeah. And then she hit me in the face with it," she said. "The guitar. It- it was broken, but-"

"I didn't return it yet," she said. "I- it's in the repair shop. They couldn't fix it, like - it won't play again, but he thought he could put it back together a little. I thought she might want that. I mean, things like that, those are important, you know? They're yours, and they're special. She wouldn't have hit me with it, if she hadn't been trying to protect Bulk, and I know that. It was a big thing to sacrifice. Those are expensive."

A little shake of her head. "I haven't figured out how I'm going to get it back to her," she said. "I don't want to endanger her or anyone else. Also me, haha. I just get it. I mean, I could give it to you, but I don't want you getting in trouble either, so..."

The road clattered underneath them as the Trans Am hit a hard dip. "I'll figure out something."

Max looked around in amazement. Miko had struck the courier in the face with her guitar? For an instant he thought she meant her avatar. Then it occurred to him: no, Miko had struck the robot herself.

Incredulous, he said, "She hit you? With her guitar? Incredible." He shook his head. "The kid has guts, I'll give her that. I'm not surprised she did it to protect Bulkhead. Those two are close.""

Max laughed then, short and amused. "And you still have the guitar. That explains why I hadn't seen it in a while. If you're really stuck on a way to get it back to her, just give it to me. I'll find a way. Or the other humans will. I can pass it along to them. Shouldn't be too much trouble."

There was another pause as he looked sidelong at the blond avatar in wonder. "You actually went and got it fixed for her at a repair shop?"

"She totally hit me," Dart replied with a laugh. "It was a good hit, too... aw, yeah. I still have it. I just didn't want to leave it behind, and I didn't want a crew picking it up and throwing it away." Or tracing it back to Miko, the chances of that had been low but Dart always was careful about things like that. It was an expensive guitar.

"Yeah," she offered. His look of surprise made her incline her head, and then she simply remembered. It was easy to forget in his company that - she was supposed to be.... yeah. That too. "I tried fixing it, I looked up where they might and I went there, and the guy said he could glue it. He was super nice about it too. I mean it won't play, I guess it's not really fixed."

"Yes sir," she replied, the words bubbling out of her in a rush. "I mean I'm totally stuck. I just have to go get it when it's done but- can I give it to you?" There was a look of relief, and even delight as she eyed the man next to her. His worn flannel shirt caught the sun, the patches softly colored by the tint of her window. "That would work. That would be great, I promise."

It wouldn't be difficult to pass the guitar on to Agent Fowler. Undoubtedly the man would know who it belonged to, and how to return it to its owner. He saw the children frequently, unlike Max. The other Autobots on base might not be as happy to see the guitar again, but that was their problem.

Max caught sight of her glance and was taken back by the open relief in her gaze. He straightened a little and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"No problem," he said. "Just give it to me whenever it's ready and you've retrieved it from the shop. I'm not sure what the best way to contact me would be. We seem to come across one another mostly by accident."

Or by messages tucked in geocaches. That probably wasn't going to work this time. Max frowned, and said slowly, "There's the commline. Just send me a private message over comms. I'll get it. Can't really think of another way to get a message across reliably."

Dart sat still, astounded. Not over the getting the guitar, not over his offer to take it to humans. Just-- that he was offering her a comm line. A contact point, something you had to trust someone with. Yes, he was driving with her to a dam. He'd met her. He'd followed her geocaches with the patience of someone who just enjoyed seeing the sights. He'd admired her silly steel horses and understood why she loved them and didn't give her a bad time about picking up trash. He liked humans, and from what she could see- er, smell, he was working among them. A lot more than he ever had been.

"Really?" she asked, and then there was a smile. "Really? I'd- I'd love that. I mean, a commline. I promise, I'd be careful with it. I mean, I like the geocache thing but notes are a little slow."

Max nodded.

"Yeah, that's my thought as well," he said. "Geocaches work, but not when you're in a hurry. I'm sure Miko would be glad to get her guitar back as soon as it's repaired. If I see her before then I'll let her know it will be returned to her soon. Bet she'd like to know it."

He lapsed into silence and watched the rough terrain whir beneath the hood of the black car. For a moment he grappled with the idea of telling the courier that he was no longer with the Autobots. Perhaps it was because she only seemed peripherally attached to the Decepticons himself. Instead he rubbed a finger across the bridge of his nose and said, "Thanks for fixing that guitar. Miko will be surprised to find out who was responsible for it. Unless you'd prefer me not to tell her?"

"I'll give you mine too," the courier said. "I mean a private comm line. I haven't really used it since Australia. It usually works ok- well my comm usually does. Sometimes it's a bit glitchy, but promise, I don't mean to miss a call. I usually am by myself a lot, so it's okay."

Which was true. She was and while she preferred it like that to dealing with Pyrotech's moments... ah well. No one really noticed out in the boonies if she looked up and got the 'hey, incoming call' look. She shifted her fingers on the wheel as the car's tires picked their way around another spot. A sign passed them as car patiently threaded its way up a hill through the cactus studded countryside; it stated that the wash was "4 by 4 recommended".

They'd gone miles like that, on this rough road. It felt like it had been this odd cross of a long time and not much time at all though, since the landscape around them didn't seem to change much. Tan and grey and dry, the big hills were fading in the distance. The car had kept a steady pace, picking up when she could, careful not to speed too fast around the corners in case they ran into a car coming the other direction. So far, they hadn't seen a soul.

"Aw, it's okay," she said. "I mean if it's not safe for her, you don't have to bring up who did it. Heck, I don't mind if you say you did it. I'm just glad it's going to get back to her, that's the important thing.

Max shook his head.

"I don't think she'd believe me if I said I did it," he said. His voice was dry, but his expression was one of amusement. "I'll tell her it was you. You deserve the credit. And it sounds as if you two have already, ah, made a connection anyway."

Hit a Decepticon in the face. That did sound like something Miko would do. She had been lucky it had been the courier she had encountered in the subway and not another 'Con. Very lucky.

He lounged against the door and glanced out the window. This was a different part of the desert than what he had become accustomed to. It was odd to see the dusty road, and the glint of blue water in the distance. This was a hilly region. He was at home with with the area around Lake Mead, though usually he visited it at night. He had not wandered this far up the river yet, and now he surveyed the unfamiliar terrain with interest.

Curious, he said, "How far out from the dam are we from here?"

"Hahah, connection. I think my word was, 'ow'," Dart admitted with a shake of her head. "Honest. Just wanted to get her out of there before he fell on her or something, ugh, but aw. Thanks. Tell her I'm sorry, too. I know the guitar's important to her, honest." She did. She had things like that herself, tucked away in her pockets - er, hip carriers.

"Maybe 20 minutes once we reach the end of Kingman Wash," Dart replied with no hesitation. "We go to US 93 and drive that a bit of a ways and then go back onto the access road that takes us right to the dam."

"The worst part is me having to go slow here," she admitted, and as if in answer her tires spat a bit of gravel. "Soon as we hit pavement, I can pick it up. I think we're pretty close though, just over that next little bit. I did this on foot but not by car to check it out the other day."

Max grunted. It was a fair drive still, but it didn't sound all that bad. The view from the car window was good, and the company was pleasant.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he was enjoying it so far.

"Don't worry about slow," he said. "This is fast compared to what I'm used to. No point in risking a spin-out. Not that it would hurt either one of us, but I don't think we're in a rush to get anywhere anyway."

He resisted the absurd urge to roll down a window, just to rest his arm on the sill against the wind. Instead he glanced at the girl and said, "You know this area and the roadways pretty well, it sounds like. I don’t even hear the Autobots give precise directions like that all that often. Well, not all of them, anyway."

The courier chuckled a bit and nodded. "Yeah. No rush. I know, funny from me. I mapped it out before when I was trying to figure out how we could do this safely," she replied.

"I just wanted to make sure if we did it, we'd be okay and not attract attention and not bother anyone. That said, I don't- I spend all my time here. I understand the ways the humans laid it out better than if someone was to give me directions like -- go here, to these coordinates."

She looked thoughtful. "I get it in miles and places and crossroads, because that's what the humans have. Mostly I- I use landmarks, you know? I know how much time it takes to go from the horses to the next zone. I could tell you how to use I-90 to get there, but I couldn't explain to you how to um, groundbridge you there."

Max nodded. Coordinates were familiar to him, but of course the humans handled them differently here. It made sense that someone as hands-on as the courier seemed to be would do better with visual directions. Like landmarks.

"The ground bridge is convenient," he said. "Though I'll admit I don't know the engineering behind it. You do have to put a lot of blind faith in it to get you where you need to go. Driving may take longer, but it's guaranteed not to scatter your atoms across the continent if it gets it wrong."

Not that he didn't miss being able to travel across the countryside at will. That was one thing he did regret leaving behind at the Autobot base. Max shifted in his seat. "I suppose being able to travel anywhere by foot or by wheel is more or less required of a courier as well?"

The girl's nose wrinkled slightly with her concern. Dart could admit that she hated ground bridges. There, she said it. She thought it. Something. Whatever they were keyed into, whatever little pause they did ripping apart space and distance (and maybe time, she never was sure about any of that) made her head hurt and the rest of her feel like she was going to hurl back whatever was still unprocessed in the tank. Not exactly the sort of thing you wanted to do.

Of course that left the question - if you lost your breakfast inside of a ground bridge, did it go away like some science and math problem, or would it be there every time. Or when it closed did some poor soul get something disgusting they didn't bargain for on some place somewhere. Why was she even thinking about this, who knew. Kind of a nice thing though, to feel relaxed enough to think of anything except, oh boy, what to avoid today.

"That's a lot of faith," she agreed. "I'd rather hold onto it and save it for when I really need it instead of traveling on it or something, haha. Did you use the ground bridges a lot when you were off Earth too?"

"Yeah, it is," she nodded. "It's kind of what it is, you have to go by foot a lot of places on this planet no one else wants to travel through. Car's a little harder but it's easier to drive down the road and not get bothered during daylight."

There wasn't a lot that Max could say to that. He hummed.

"Suppose it's fortunate that human vehicles are more or less compatible with our basic design," he said. "Don't think this is a planet we'd want to stand out in. I'm surprised that the Decepticons bother with that kind of camouflage here on Earth, but I suppose it doesn't benefit them either to stand out. That giant ship has got to be hard enough to hide.

He was able to keep his voice neutral as he said it. "Off Earth? Actually, no, I didn't use them a lot. Most of the time they burned too much power to be practical. Sheer necessity makes one invaluable on this planet, but elsewhere I was mostly travelling by shuttle. I can't really say if I preferred it that way or not. I think maybe I did."

The courier focused on the road in front of her for a moment, deftly avoiding a pretty large rut where a four-by-four had been mired and then the ground had re-dried after a rainstorm a few weeks ago. "No," Dart agreed. "I don't think it is. I have no idea how it's worked on other planets though, I just- humans are a bit more than folks give them credit for. I worry about..."

She trailed off. "About a lot of things lately," she murmured. MECH. She guessed they knew, the Autobots HAD to know, but that was skirting a bit of work moment and she didn't want to put a damper on the day. Not that she expected Maximus to find it an annoying thing to speak of, it was more - well, who knows what it was. It was something.

"I don't get it," she said finally. "I mean the camoflauge thing. Trust me. I don't understand why they have flashy alt modes either. I mean I get the planes, sure, but even those are hard to hide in some situations, and sooner or later yeah someone's going to spot that ship, figure out how to, especially if there's ever a major confrontation."

Dart sighed. "I have to admit though to you - I'd take the shuttle, and I don't like flying. Ground bridges spook me a bit."

Max almost smiled.

"I can't say I blame you for that," he said. "I don't mind the ground bridges, but I prefer the hands-on approach in most cases as well. You can equip and outfit a shuttle to whatever situation or environment you're going to be landing in, and then use it as a mobile on-site base of operations of sorts. A ground bridge drops you in the thick of it, and then strands you there. You can call it back, but you can't utilize it while it's open."

He spoke frankly, with the grave tone of someone who took what they said seriously. He gestured with both hands to underscore his points. "Unfortunately, shuttles are no good here on Earth, unless you can keep one well-hidden. And refrain from crashing it every other day. Which suggests that they will likely never being a practical part of Autobot field operations."

Max sighed with a touch of exasperation. Then, he looked over at her. "And… you don't like flying?"

The courier smiled. "Yeah, I think that's it. You- you have some control over some transportation. Well you think you do, even if you don't. Ground bridge, it's who is on the other side and if they feel like opening it for you."

Because sometimes they didn't, no doubt.

"Plus you can go back and keep dry or warm in a shuttle, I guess," she mused and then focused on his hands, the gestures of his fingers and shoulder. There was a confidence to his motions. It was something she liked a lot; the motions, his body language when he came to a subject he knew well. It nudged distance away from him; carried to each word.

Honestly, Dart loved hearing folks talk about things they understood. This mech doing it freely was perhaps rare; she knew he was the sort that didn't explain unless he truly knew a subject.

"I don't know anyone who has one. A shuttle, I mean. I've heard of a ship or two but not shuttles," she told him.

"No, I don't fly," she told him quietly, and eyed out the window as she eased around a corner of the dirt road. "I'm totally terrified of it."

She winced. "Good thing I'm a grounder. Kinda silly if they'd put me into a plane, I'd roll everywhere."

Max could think of at least one Autobot on Earth who had a shuttle - and to that mech's credit it was still in once piece. But other than that they were rare. Mostly it was dropships and escape pods that breached the atmosphere and streaked planet-side, and those were meant to be one-way trips. It was a shame. Even a small ship would be an asset.

The courier's words drew his attention.

"Wait, what?" he said.

He stared at her avatar. "You're afraid of flying? Accident?"

It was the first thing that sprang to his mind. Decepticons that didn't fly were out there, but not all that common so far as he knew. He had be under the impression they tended to be looked down upon by their comrades.

The courier stared down at the center of her wheel. The low-slung car thunked over a stone; there was a soft scraping noise, but she didn't seem to notice.

Then she shifted her hands on the smooth steering wheel. "Yeah. I- I don't fly," Dart mumbled, still unable to look up for a second. In the center there should have been a retro 80's spread wing Firebird. Instead, there was the Decepticon sigil. Another thing she never understood, about it - at least some of the Autobots were subtle. Nope, not Decepticons sometimes. Well or they want to make sure you know who you work for. I'm amazed they didn't stick it in neon.

"As for why," she said, and this time she looked over at him with an unsure little smile. "I don't know. I mean, I think maybe that's it, an accident, but I can't remember it. Hope that makes sense to you. Sometimes it doesn't to me."

Immediately, Max regretted asking it. He hated it when people asked him uncomfortable questions, particularly about subjects he was not inclined to talk about. Judging by the courier's awkward response this was one for her.

She didn't remember it?

He shifted uneasily.

"Yeah, I suppose it does," he said. "If you were ever looking for an easier answer, it might just be because you were designed to be a grounder. I've known plenty of Autobots who hated flying because it wasn't what they were built to do. I suppose it's not the greatest feeling knowing you can't just turn on a pair of thrusters or anti-grav if you ever fell from a dangerous height. I haven't asked an Autobot flier if they ever felt similarly about being trapped on the ground."

The courier ducked her chin slightly and her blue eyes looked through her scruffy bangs. It was as if she was peeking out from under the dark brim of her robot mode's helm.

"It's okay," she said, and lifted her fingers in a tiny, quiet gesture of apology as she felt him shifting in the seat. It was. No laughter, no incredulous look, not a scoff. "That's actually a really good answer. If I get stuck with someone being a jerk again, I'll try that one and just leave it at that and see if it helps."

She nodded. "No, but I know more about terrain then a lot of them do, and I know how to use it to move pretty safely. I mean, I guess it's no worse than a lot of the Autobots who can't either, but I- I dunno. I know some fliers get really stressed here, on Earth. They want back up into the air as quick as possible."

Max grimaced.

"I only know one flier here on Earth," he admitted. "There could be more, and I just haven't met them. This one is a blowhard and an idiot. I can't imagine him being smart enough to recognise when having his feet planted on the ground could be dangerous. I don't think fear enters his mind a lot. But I don't doubt what you say."

He looked irritable for a moment, then grudgingly relaxed. He cast her another sidelong look, this time with a touch of wry humour. "I don't suppose you've come across him: big mech, nearly my height, grey and blue? A loudmouth. Hard to miss."

Dart took a moment to think about it. "No," she said. "I'd remember that. It's rare to see an Autobot flier." Which was true, the last ones she really had spent time around were in Australia. Cricket. Dustoff. They flew, but weirdly they were both Helicopters, not planes. In fact, she wasn't sure any of them had been planes.

"Especially one like you're describing," she admitted with a smile. "I'd remember a loudmouth nearly your size, grey and blue. That bad, huh?"

"Yep," said Max.

A little of his irritation faded, though he scowled. He leaned his head on his hand again. "I don't know where the Autobots dug him up- wait, no, yes I do. A prison. Because of course they did. I don't know what they were thinking. He is dangerous though, and I don't think he'd hesitate to abuse or kill any 'Con he came across, or else torture them with a lot of obnoxious backtalk. And he picks fights. So if you spy a flier of his description, I would suggest veering away."

Max fell silent. The heavy irony of what he had said had just hit him, and he winced. "Anyway, yeah. Not many Autobot fliers out there. I suppose that's common knowledge. You're one of the few ground Decepticons I've met."

Actually, he had met hundreds, if not thousands of Decepticon ground units. It was just that he had, well, fought and killed them.

Dart listened quietly. As he leaned his head into his hand, a tiny whine came from the big car's engine. The courier's tires spun slightly; they were going up a long rising slope.

"Understood," she replied, and she did. He just sounded frustrated right now. "That seems like a tough situation. Er, where they dug him up at. A prison...?"

Memory flicked at the back of her thoughts. Starscream's optics, bright red in that dark husk of a crashed ship. The Warden.

Ugh, and knowing what she had been told, she knew. That was not a safe prison at all. That the mech that Maximus was referring to was not a healthy mech, not in the slightest. Why the Autobots would pull a prisoner from a place like that-

"I think maybe you start getting desperate for troops the less people you have," she said after a moment. "That's the only guess on my part, but... I dunno. Maybe it's not the right one. However, all I can say is I'll take your warning, and thank you so much for it. It helps. Promise, I usually veer as fast as I can in the other direction from all Autobots."

A little chuckle, then she grew solemn again. "I don't meet many either. More that I've been stationed with. Like... well, like my Commander now."

Dust kicked back behind the dark, low slung car.

Her nose crested the top and then she paused. Her engine rumbled softly; Maximus would hear the soft huff of air being pulled into the low front of the car's hood. Her mirrors pricked forward and the girl leaned slightly in her seat.

"Car coming," she said. From here they could both see what it was, a big off road truck, motoring slowly towards them.

Max hummed again noncommittally. She had a point. Desperation had made both sides do a lot of terrible things.

"Your commander?" he said. "Who, Starscream?"

At the warning he sat up a little straighter in his seat. He leaned forward and laid one hand on the dash and frowned out the windshield. Sure enough he could see the dust at first, and then the shape of the truck itself driving through the haze. It was a big one, ruggedly built. It looked like it had been designed with these kinds of roads in mind. He tried to think of an Autobot with such a vehicle mode and came up short. Bulkhead came closest, maybe.

"Huh," he said. "I have to admit, even given the road we're driving on, I hadn't really expected to see anyone else out here. Just someone out for a drive?"

"Probably going the lake. Or hiking." The front end of the Trans-Am lifted a bit, her tires turned under her as she sniffed. In the seat, her avatar echoed the gesture, pushing her nose forward. The avatar's nostrils flared slightly as if the girl was breathing. "It's touristy. I'm surprised we've not seen anyone before this."

"I mean I think so. It's not a vehicle I recognize dangerously," she offered. "We're not far from where the end of the road, actually. Lots of folks up here going to Lake Mead to go boating, fishing, that kind of stuff."

The courier's spoiler flicked across the back of her trunk and then steadied. "There's enough space, we can pass by each other carefully."

"Oh. No. Not Starscream, I mean he is my commander but ugh, I get rank and file all mixed up sometimes- they just use them all over the place, er... no. I guess he's a sub-commander. He was- er, the red mech, in the tunnel, the one with that stuff that shot Miko's friend."

Touristy. That wasn't a concept that Max was all that familiar with.

Then again, he had run across a number of 'tourists' during the geocache hunt. Just ordinary humans doing ordinary things as they explored their world. Boating and fishing, huh.

He settled back and watched the truck as it drew near. "A red mech? I don't think I arrived in time to see him. By the time I got there only you and Bulkhead and Z- another red menace were still left behind. Must have missed him."

Max smiled grimly. "So, he's the one who shot that superheated slag at Bulkhead? I was around when Ratchet cleaned it off him and repaired the damage. He had a lot of choice words to say about such a chemical being used in combat. I don't think it would be appropriate to repeat them here."

"I've probably heard them," Dart laughed as they approached the other car. She was careful to ease over to one side of the rough road, creeping a bit on the edge. Her tires sunk in the soft substrate, and she had to correct to make sure she didn't fishtail out to one side or the other. "No. You didn't. I just- I was really concerned he'd come back. I mean I didn't expect it, but I was concerned."

"It's dangerous stuff," she murmured. "Yeah. He's a fire fighting vehicle. Grounder. Stay- just be careful. He's dangerous, and he has no qualms against killing anyone. If he'd found the girl..."

Fighting Decepticons was one thing. It was nothing. Maximus had killed tens of thousands of them in the past, and wouldn't blink if he needed to kill a thousand more in the future. Hell, he'd walk out of it with a sense of satisfaction. There was no 'Con on Earth that he feared.

But he got the impression that Dart wasn't talking about that.

"You're suggesting he'd deliberately set out to kill the little girl," he said. It wasn't a question; his voice was flat. He glanced over. "Miko. I take it if he got his hands on a kid like her he'd kill them without a second thought."

"He didn't know she was there," the courier replied. "If he had, and thought no one could see or stop him and she was with the Autobots? Yes."

The courier turned her head. Underneath them both, the car shuddered. She'd known. She'd known that if Pyrotech had found Miko, it would have been over. He would have killed Bulkhead without a second thought. If Miko had had the audacity to stand up to him - and she would have, and Dart knew it. Brave as brass, wasn't that the saying? Braver than me.

It wasn't a light conversation. It wasn't where she'd planned to drift it. But they were stepping into ground that maybe wasn't... the safest, but it was good ground. He'd trusted her with his concerns about the mech, she gave him her concerns freely now, because it was something she'd wanted to say for a while now. It just had never come up.

Max fell silent for a moment.

"I'll pass on the warning," he said. "I know the humans are well aware the Decepticons intend them harm in every sense of the word, but it doesn't hurt for them to know what specific 'Cons to watch out for. I'll spread the word around."

Through Agent Fowler. The chance of him seeing the children again were slim, but these days he saw Fowler almost every day. The man seemed to have taken the kids under his protection as surely as the Autobots had. Neither he nor Maximus wanted to see them in the line of fire.

He nodded once, slowly. "Thanks for the heads up on this commander of yours. I'm aware that - information like this doesn't exactly flow freely between sides. So I appreciate you saying it."

Dart's avatar glanced down at the long hood of the Trans-Am in front of them. Deep scars under the dust and the road grime. She knew, he'd pass on the warning. Some of the other Decepticons wouldn't do it. They'd use the kids as a bargaining tool, a whatever, sure, they might kill them, given the chance, but... even Starscream might have a moment's small pause on a human for whatever reason he chose to give that day.

Pyrotech wouldn't. If he'd known, she'd be dead, and it was as simple and straightforward and ugly as that. The avatar gritted its teeth, and the car growled softly, under the heavy tones of her engine.

"You gave it to me," she said with a smile. "No. It doesn't, but then again, lots of both sides wouldn't have given either of us a chance. I think we're good. I kinda like it."

"Also, I figure you trusted my driving," she laughed. "Which is good, because I'm not so sure I do on this road. Ow."

"But yeah. You're welcome. I just- I don't want to see anyone lose their kids. Or- or their parents. Or anyone they care about just because they're in the wrong place at the wrong time. It needed to be said. But- I couldn't say anything there. I was afraid he'd come back and..."

"You know. Just not good."

Max's gaze clouded.

"No, it isn't," he said. "I agree. Wrong place, wrong time. Nothing more needs to be said about that, I think."

He stared out the windshield and watched the flying dust. The question that came to him next was one he had been deliberately avoiding for as long as he could - she hadn't asked him any awkward questions this far into things, and he'd grown to realize he was deeply thankful for that - but now he grappled with it. It seemed unworthy to not return the favour. But some things had to be said.

"I have to ask," he said. He looked over at the avatar squarely, his brow furrowed. "How the hell are you a Decepticon? I haven't run into one inclined to show concern for the welfare of other races like humans before, and frankly I wasn't expecting to here. I didn't think they existed. Given their past history I didn't think it was even possible."

The courier rested her fingers on the steering wheel, but didn't draw back or flinch. In fact, the outer mirrors tweaked slightly. "You know, you're the only the second mech in all these years to ask me that," she said, and there was a tiny, sloping smile.

"I dunno. Damaged component, picked me up, fixed me up. I don't remember anything before Earth, like I said," she admitted. "But- I owed him my life, and then it just- I dunno. Lots of things."

[Dart]

In the back of his mind, Max wondered who the first had been. But he did not voice the question aloud.

Instead he frowned. For a moment he sat in silence and watched the dirt road ahead. Damaged component, fixed up. A few words pieced together enough of a picture for him to grasp what had happened. Perhaps she had crashed here on Earth, like so many of the others had, and had been recovered by the Decepticons. The fact that she seemed to owe him - her commander? - her life seemed to suggest it.

Damaged and repaired. He understood gratitude, at least.

"I see," he said. He spoke slowly, reluctantly. "Yeah. I suppose I owe some people my life as well. I guess I get where you're coming from. But…"

Max glanced over. "Have you ever thought of- no, I won't say switching sides. That's hard on anyone, Bot or Con. Going Neutral?"

Dart looked up over at him. There was a bit of startled apprehension in the courier's eyes. Automatically, her gaze dropped to that spot on his chest, where his sigil might have been had he been a robot. As it was, it was just soft red flannel, faded with wear and washings, broken in with imaginary dust and time.

Her shoulders quirked. Across her trunk, the tips of her spoiler drooped and rattled once, but the sound was swallowed by all the noises that the Trans-Am made clattering along the dirt road.

It was a question. It was a big question. It was one she'd asked herself a lot since Australia. She'd asked herself it over and over on that ship ride back to the States. She just didn't expect it from anyone else. Especially this mech, who she knew had been so careful about what he discussed, what he talked about.

But.. things were different now. Maybe he was also asking himself those questions.

Dart knew. They were hard ones to have no one but your own mind to talk about it with.

Come with me. It had been an astounding offer. Unexpected, and something she held close, like the datapad tucked in her hip-carrier. She'd turned it over and over and over again, and wanted it so bad and yet... she was so stupidly afraid about so many things that could happen but unable to shake it. She'd said no because she was afraid for what would happen. Not to her. To him. To others. No, it wasn't stupid. It was just- part of this life.

Since Australia, things had changed. What had happened was that before that she'd just been surviving day to day. Nothing more. Nothing to focus on but life and she hadn't been lonely because there'd been no reason to be. Living in the moment, and all that moment knew was how to struggle forward and not look back.

Now there was a reason to look back, and Dart had found herself terribly lonely. The holo helped. Walking along the humans helped. She kind of got the feeling the mech next to her understood that. Even if you couldn't be human, you could just be around them and their lives were amazing, fascinating, full of freedoms that you couldn't fathom existed on some level. They just got to get up, and go to work. They could quit if they hated their boss. They may not have realized it but so much freedom. Was pretty neat.

The courier sat up a bit in her seat. She squared her shoulders as if she was facing down some unseen thing, lurking in front of them, and debating if she should turn and spook, avoid it like the rust plague...

Then she nodded. "Yes," she admitted.

"I didn't even know we could be," she said honestly. "My whole life, I never knew that there was something other than Autobots or Decepticons, and I was like- well, I knew. Switching sides... well, no. It's - well, I guess we both kind of know, it's harder to switch to the Autobots, and with good reason. I mean in the end, if you decide to change the other way, the Decepticons will simply use you as cannon fodder. They can always use that, right? I mean yeah sure, they wouldn't trust you, but they'd use you."

Dart lifted her hands off the wheel. Of course the car stayed perfectly steady without her help. Her shoulders moved, fingers moved- she spoke with her body language as well as that sudden rush of words.

"I just didn't know there was something else," she said. "I never even knew that anyone existed that wasn't on one side or another, but once I did- I admit it. I've thought about it. A lot."

Max's mouth twisted.

"I suppose you don't hear as much about Neutrals when you're with the Decepticons," he said. "They're pretty well known within the Autobots. Not always on the best of terms."

He hesitated. Then, turning slightly, he elaborated, his hands raised in an uncertain gesture. "There's a strong tendency among plenty of Autobots to see them as fence-sitters, in the worst connotation of the word. Deserters and contentious objectors. There's a word for it: Non-Aligned Indigenous Lifeforms. NAILS. You don't tend to hear it used in a friendly way. More often than not it's a slur.

But we DO know of their existence. For a time, the Autobots extended their protection to Neutrals. As the war dragged on that altruistic gesture began to diminish as more and more cynical 'Bots asked why they were spending time and resources and lives protecting people who wouldn't or couldn't return the favour."

Max fell back in his seat with a scowl. "I'll admit, I don't know what to make of Neutrals myself. But I can understand why you hadn't realised the possibility of existing outside the conflict existed, as a Cybertronian. I had always just assumed that Decepticons just dealt harshly with deserters or anyone with Neutral sympathies and that was the end of it. I don't exactly know many Cons, not on speaking terms."

He looked over at her again. "But there do seem to be a handful of Neuts here on Earth. They're pretty organized. Ever encounter them?"

The big truck drew level with them. The two men inside looked down at the sports car, at the driver, at the man in the seat across from her. There was a bit of an incredulous grin from the driver of the bigger vehicle as if he couldn't believe that some sports car was out here roughing it on the roads.

His hand thrust out his window, and he gave a bit of a wave at them both. "I'm impressed! You're not stuck!" he yelled loud enough to be heard over the engines of the two cars.

Dart laughed and waved quickly. "Oh that was luck!" she started to laugh but then remembered her window was rolled up, that he couldn't hear her and-- oh shoot the car had said it out loud. Oops.

Luckily the driver didn't seem to have noticed the window either. He grinned wider, gave them a thumbs up, and then the two cars passed smoothly and Dart settled herself back into the safer part of the road.

As soon as they passed the courier immediately became solemn again. It was obvious she'd been listening to every word.

"No, you don't. I guess they just consider them not even worth talking about," she said finally.

"That just- ugh, it seems awfully unfriendly," she agreed as his voice rumbled through the cab of the car. "The NAILS thing. I mean, just feels like they're talking about other Cybertronians like - like it makes them seem less because they just chose not to agree with either side over points that they have a legit reason to avoid wanting to be involved in."

"Yeah- that's- that's a good reason why I- I can't leave. I'd be dead. There's no support system. I mean I can scrounge, I'm good at scrounging but if something really happened to me, I'd be- well, I'd be dead. And who trusts a Decepticon anyway. That's the other part. It doesn't matter. If I have the sigil on or off or on, doesn't matter. It's just- what I was, not who I might be."

The courier's intakes whuffled softly, in a sigh.

"I dunno. If I had to say anything, I'd say neutrals- well, they're just like all of us," she offered. "Like they have their good days and bad days too. We're soldiers, but we're- we're individuals. There's Autobots you know are dangerous to anyone and anything and Decepticons who'd rather talk their way out than fight."

A smile. "I'm glad we're on speaking terms," she told him with a sincere laugh. "It's a lot of stuff I never would dare to talk about. Sometimes even to myself."

"As for encountering..." she said. "Yeah. I have. Not here, though. Australia."

The courier's expression softened. "Pretty neat guy," she murmured. "Incredibly smart."

Nonplussed, Max turned to watch the truck speed off. He had tensed slightly when it drew up beside them, but the men inside had been friendly and the courier's response natural. She was good at interacting with humans, he noticed.

When it was gone he relaxed. His expression was serious as he listened.

"Australia?" he said. "Can't say I've ever been there. I didn't know the Neutrals had scattered that far and wide here on Earth. Though I'm not surprised."

He sat back and mulled over her words. "I suppose it's true that going Neutral would be hard on this planet. It's a small world. Hard enough for the Autobots to keep hidden from the 'Con warship and all those Vehicons. I can't imagine it's any easier for a Neutral - or a deserter from the Decepticon side. And you're right. The Autobots would never trust you. Not all of them. I wouldn't ask you to trust them either. That would be putting your life in their hands. You shouldn't have to do that just to get by."

It occurred to him that he was starting to ramble. Max coughed into his fist. "Anyway, uh. Yeah. It's not bad, talking about this stuff. I think about it a lot, I guess. Didn't think I'd run into someone who thought about it as well."

"I was there for a while before I came back here," she replied. "Lots of Autobots and Decepticons there. Things were odd though. I mean, not as cut-throat as here. I can't explain it or describe it. It was just super different then the States. Maybe it's proximity to L- I mean to the leaders. Both of them."

"I think that's the hardest part," she murmured. "Lack of support system, you know? I mean, maybe humans but what happens if something breaks? Like something serious. There's nothing to repair, can't fix it, they can't even start to fix it. Or what happens if - if someone finds out and then takes it out on humans that help? I can't have that either. I just- I dunno."

"And yeah, I know the Autobots wouldn't," she said quietly. "That's okay. They have good reasons not to and I can respect that. I really do. Also there's been a few things the Autobots have done that--"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "Isn't okay. Not that I have anywhere to talk, but... I totally get what you mean about taking my life into my hands and getting by. It's okay. You understand. Thanks."

"No. I- I just... it's nice. Talking about it. It makes me feel a whole lot less alone," she admitted. "Like it's good to hear from someone else who thinks about it too."

She settled into the seat, and looked up at him. "Is thinking about it newer to you too?"

Max opened his mouth, then shut it.

"I suppose you could say that," he said grudgingly. "Like I said, I've been aware of Neutrals for a long time. I encountered them often back when the war was still on Cybertron. I was stationed all across the planet when I was in the thick of the fighting. I didn't really think about them all that much back then. I had bigger issues to concern myself with."

He turned his gaze to the window. His reflection glowered back at him. "Millions of years and a foreign planet later, and now I find myself thinking about them more and more. Hm. The concerns you brought up have occurred to me as well. The maintenance issue, for example."

Ratchet had assured him that any repairs were only a commline away, but Max was well aware that the medic was needed at the base, from which he ventured only in the case of an emergency. Aloud, he said absently, "Humans can help, if you know the right ones, I guess. There's the energon problem too."

Dart listened, leaning her arm on her windowsill. The dirt road in front of them was sloping down, and now both of them could see the turnout. A pale grey road stretched east and west in a ribbon. Still no cars on it though. The courier's nose dipped slightly, she was ready for pavement. Oh, so ready for pavement. She could kiss it.

She understood. Her own system was well, spit and bailing wire. She was pretty basic. No guns, no rifles. No targeting. No need for it. He on the other hand had all these other things to contend with, all these minute things she would never need.

"Surviving is a lot bigger issue," she said softly. "That and keeping those around you that you have to care for safe. Hard to think about someone on the peripherals. I just- I dunno, it's amazing to me to think that there were enough folks non faction to even encounter often."

"It's a big thing, that maintenance," Dart said. "Fuel too. Then what happens when everyone leaves? Humans are wonderful, but..."

She trailed off.

The courier's voice had become thoughtful for a moment, even wistful. Then she seemed to shake it off.

"They're not as long lived as we are. Even with bad maintenance. Everyone would just keep dying around you. Aging and dying and you're left behind."

"Can you process uh, Earth fuels at all?" she asked with some curiosity. "I can. I scrounge all the time, but I don't know if that works for you."

That, at least, was something that Max didn't need to worry about. There was no one he needed to keep safe. He was cut off and free. It was a strange feeling.

"I can," he said. He grimaced. "If I have to. I don't run as well on the raw fuels here, but I can process them at least. But my systems don't function nearly as efficiently on them as they do energon. And I burn through a lot of energon. That comes with being a warframe, unfortunately."

He almost added that he at least had a reliable source of Earth fuels, but refrained at the last minute. Black Rock was a human secret, and not his to share. At best he only served as a consultant there.

Ahead was the highway. Max studied it with a sense of satisfaction. "You have to scrounge a lot? I'd have thought you'd be well-supplied, given the Decepticon control over the energon mines of this planet. But I suppose most of that gets shipped up to the Nemesis, and you did say you spend most of your time down here planet-side. How much scrounging for fuel do you need to do?"

"I would think it does," she mused, looking thoughtful. "You have a lot more to power up and keep going. I mean my running does need a lot of fuel, but yeah, you're a lot heavier than I am too."

"My commander gets assigned places where we have to pretty much be on our own," she said. "He can't take unrefined fuel. I could, so... I'm kind of the bottom of the supply run I guess. I was built to use mostly Earth fuel anyway. I don't function well on the really high-powered refined stuff, funny, but true."

A faint memory turned her internals. "When we were in Alaska we had almost nothing," she admitted. "So he got most of it. The rest of us just dug up anything we could to keep going. It was pretty nasty. I liked Alaska, it's beautiful."

Dart attempted a smile. "But to steal a human phrase, the food was awful."

There was the issue of his spark as well, but that was something Max was not going to bring up.

Instead he settled in comfortably, one foot resting on the opposite knee. It was odd how natural the gesture felt for his human avatar. "It sounds like you take what you can get, and make it work for you," he said approvingly. "That sounds like you learned to be resourceful. I haven't been to Alaska, but if it's anything like the high Arctic I can imagine the pickings are sparse.

Mostly just fuel caches, I'm guessing."

He nodded. "I know a lot of the Autobots are used to running on slim energon rations, but it sounds like you had it worse. At least you're built for it. That's got to give you a bit of an edge down here on the planet. I don't know what I'd end up doing if I were stranded somewhere without a reliable fuel source. Hopefully it won't ever come to that. Recharging only does so much."

The Trans-Am rounded that final corner among the grey and red stones. The road gently sloped down, and then her tires touched pavement with a satisfying thump. For a second the long sloping hood totally bent and may have kissed that road in a way that- well, no one saw Dart's little thank you to whatever robot gods might be watching. She owed them her undercarriage.

As she turned carefully on the pavement and aligned her nose with the road, Max would see that the brown sign behind them stated to travel only on routes designated by a little star symbol. That all vehicles must be street legal. No target shooting.

Underneath him the car shook itself a bit, rocking itself from side to side, nose to bumper as she was shaking off the trail dust from her finish. Not that it helped. The courier was a lovely shade of dust.

"Okay okay," she mused thoughtfully, and her blinker went on, even though there was no one in the lot or on the road when she pulled out onto it. "Left onto the wash road, cross the highway, and then we're not far from the dam, twenty minutes maybe."

Her tires caught and he would feel the big car under him gain confidence she hadn't had on the back road. Hey, he was a tank, tanks could run over things. Sorry, Trans-Am's barely ran over large curbs at times.

She was right, they soon came on a guidance sign. Humans seemed to be excellent at pointing, 'that way."


A three second stop, a quick left and then she was able to pick up speed on the paved road. She was a careful driver, staying within the lines and watching around them, even though there was only one car up on ahead of them, nothing more.

"Like I said before, Alaska's really pretty," she said after they were comfortably cruising. The big engine of the Trans-Am rumbled, and the pavement hummmed under her tires. There was a bit of wind noise, but not as much as one might have expected in an old car. She was actually pretty sleek.

"But it's hard country for everyone. Humans. Animals. Us," she told him. "We had a few fuel caches that were supposed to last us, but things didn't turn out that way. So we ended up siphoning off the pipeline but they shut parts of it down in the winter."

"Sniffed out old oil tanks. Did you know oil rots? I didn't. I do now."

"It was tough, but I at least I was built for it. It was worse for some of the others by far. Honest, if you're stranded I hate to say this and I feel guilty but-- steal. You have to. I learned to. I still feel bad about it."

"That said, no, I hope you don't have to either." She did. It was not something she'd wish on anyone at all. "I mean I know Energon for you is tough, isn't it."

A slight frown. "I know what some of it smells like," she said. "I can sniff it out, but I have no idea how to refine it."

[Deleted]

Max swayed with the bump as they turned onto the highway. The jolting vanished behind them with the dust. All that could be heard was the smooth rumble of the Trans Am's engine, the hum of her tires on the asphalt and the faint roar of the wind, muffled by glass and steel.

Now that there was no need to brace himself against the bumpy terrain, he leaned back into the seat. He adjusted the belt back across his chest.

"To be honest, I'm not familiar with the process either," he said. "I leave it to smarter bots than me to figure that out. I'm surprised there's as much of it hidden on this planet as there is. I'd heard that caches of it were established here millions of years ago, but that was done long before my time. I just report it if I find it. That's about it."

He paused. "And wait. It has a smell? Really?"

A thoughtful nod. There was the softest sound that he heard now - her radio was on, tuned to some station, like background noise she'd forgotten to shut off.

"It does," she said, as the big car sprang down the highway, delighted with how it had open spaces to run the same way the courier loved the flatlands and speed. Dry highways thrilled her, this one was straight, and the traffic was quiet and low, the cars spread out. The courier stayed in her lane, between the lines, not drifting.

"I mean, if I had something to focus on, some scrap, I can find it again. People say rocks don't have a smell and they're right but..."

"Energon is something different. Can't explain. Maybe it's so foreign on the world."

Max nodded slowly.

"I never thought of it as having a smell before," he admitted. "I suppose there's a tendency to consider it as little more than a rock or crystal, at least until it's processed. I've stood in the middle of several big energon mines since arriving on this planet, and never once noticed details like that. You're observant."

He laid his elbow on the sill of the window and watched the desert streak past. Now that the courier could open up on the highway the arid land outside her window swept past in a blur, save for the distant, near motionless hills. The sense of speed was odd; he never travelled at these velocities on his own, and it was different when you were insulated within a shuttle or rail.

"Of course, I also don't have your olfactory sensors," he said. "I remember that. Yours are enhanced, aren't they?"

"Yes sir-" Dart said and then caught herself. The formalities had been slipping away and she didn't want them back right now. It was effort on her part- she'd been asked a direct question. You answered it, and Max's quiet presence was solid and sturdy, unlike Pyrotech's. With her Commander, sir was because he wanted to hear it. With Maximus, it was because she felt he deserved it.

"Yah, they are," Dart replied. "Can hear a lot more too. I'm keyed into certain levels of sound, I guess, but it's mostly my nose more than anything." She brought up a hand and tapped it. "As long as I know what I'm sniffing for, or who I'm sniffing, I can do it."

"It's taken a while, though," she offered. "It's not as easy as just- having a library of smells to pick from. I have to be able to sniff it, correlate it, and then I can understand it. I mean like - okay, let's say you were in a room full of other mechs - like even a thousand, right? I would know you, sure. I could pick you out. I could get right to you."

"But- those thousand others, I wouldn't know about. I might have passed them on the street or a in a car lot or even run like heck away from them- er, and I'd know that, I don't forget those smells. But I wouldn't be able to say who they were until we met, just that it's familiar. And that's the way the world is to me here. I smell so many things all the time that I just don't know what the heck it is, so I uh, guess I shut it off."

"Like those scents, I mean, I tune them out unless they're out of place, like one of us in the middle of the woods."

Max mulled it over. It was not often that he encountered a bot with so precise a specialization - typically he dealt with those built strictly for combat or support roles, and to a lesser degree special operations. Sensory enhancement was a valued suite but not necessarily a common one in such builds. And never had he run into a bot modified to operate on planets other than Cybertron. Space, yes. Organic worlds, no. Her description of a world of scent was as alien to him as Earth.

"I think I get it," he said slowly. "It sounds a bit like - hm. Radar, I suppose. In its simplest form, it's just a passive scan that uses radio or microwaves to detect reflective sources. It is designed with a display that shows them as blips. Until you identify and tag each blip, you don't know about the nature of its originating body. It's simply a dot on a screen."

He shook his head wryly. "That's how I deconstruct it anyway. Maybe I'm wrong. Just how far can you detect a scent? If it is a process designed for scouting or tracking, I'm guessing it's pretty far."

The courier's returning smile was bright. "Yes, yes, that's it," she agreed, delighted that he'd managed to understand. Well, or that he'd cared to. Most folks went that's nice and promptly set her on detecting landmines. Which frankly, was the worse job ever when you knew that if you stepped on one, better luck next time, they'd leave you where you dropped.

"You're not wrong, that's exactly it," she replied. "That's a perfect description and... well depends on the wind and the weather and rain and humidity and terrain. Air scenting? Quarter mile or more if the weather's perfect. Ground lasts longer in most cases, like days in certain places."

Max whistled.

"A quarter mile is respectable," he said. "Most mechs with sensor suites equipped can't even detect other EM fields that far. And they get blocked by terrain. That distance in good conditions is nothing to scoff at."

He casually leaned on his knuckles. "When you say ground lasts longer… do you mean, it takes longer for the scent to fade? If that's the case, could you detect a scent trail that's a couple days old? What is the duration for something like that?"

The courier nodded. "Thing is, it's great for here, organic things hold scent, but metal on metal would be really tough," she murmured. "Earth's climate is- well, it's good for it, too. I mean not all places are, too wet, too dry, too cold, too hot, it doesn't work. You can hide scent too - stay mid-stream on rivers and keep to as much rock as possible."

"Some terrain blocks. A quarter mile in perfect conditions, honest," she offered. "But yes, it does last longer on the ground. Air moves, it moves scent, it falls to the ground but it such small amounts it's not detectable, swear. Days old, yes, but usually... a day or less is the best. After that it gets muddied by well everything and anything."

"Depends though," she said and her avatar wrinkled her nose. "Underground, it can last a long time."

It could. That reek of MECH and what they'd done to Breakdown had to be one of the most horrifying things she'd ever smelled. Nowhere for it to go after. It just lingered, like the confined stink of a slaughterhouse.

That made sense.

Max nodded. "I can see that. No air currents or moisture to displace or degrade them, I suppose. But a day is impressive. It's like seeing back in time, in a way. Radar can't do that."

Tracking was not his forte. Following that kind of trail was not what he had been designed for. Aloud, he said pensively, "It does sound like you were modified to operate on these kinds of worlds. It must have made adapting to Earth a lot easier for you. Though you did say that this planet is the only one you've know. Did you find it difficult to acclimatize to these organic environments when you came online?"

"Kinda, I guess... it was super disorientating," she murmured. "It was really hard at first. Everything was overwhelming, like-- a misfire. Like I had a sense but it changed into a whole other direction, and had to relearn the way it worked. I got the hang of it somehow. I'm still learning too. Different but the same."

"Was it hard to come down here and learn this for you too?" she asked, tipping her head slightly. "Like everything had to be new."

"It was," said Max. He looked away from the window. "I wasn't familiar with organic worlds before this, so - yes. Everything was new."

He frowned. After a pause he elaborated.

"The weather and atmospheric conditions took some getting used to," he said. He made a vague wave at the passing desert, the blue sky. "There are conditions here that didn't remotely exist on Cybertron. The lack of compatible technology was the other big adjustment. Human technology isn't as developed as ours, of course. And then there's the need for secrecy."

He shook his head. "Back home, transforming was for the purpose of your function, for war, or for convenience, not to stay hidden. Discretion didn't factor into it. So that's been strange."

Dart listened quietly, her fingers loose on the wheel. She was resting her avatar's foot on the gas pedal but there was no motion as the car sped up and eased down to get around an old Toyota station wagon with a family of tourists in it.

She could understand it on some level. The distaste of rain, of snow, by many of the Decepticons. Weather bothered them, it - it threw them. They didn't like extremes. Things like the seasons made them chafe- they didn't like the change of Earth's weather, the light, the cold, the heat. The desert was oddly as stable as it could be, so she could understand why they stayed in it. It wasn't just maybe the spaces or that's where they'd ended up. Perhaps it was closer to home than anywhere else on Earth in how it managed to lay itself out, or... well, maybe not. It was drier though. That might have been it. Rain was not Cybertronian, or it was rare, and unpleasant.

At least that's what Dart thought.

"I can see that, all the information on this world isn't as easily accessible, maybe?" she ventured, wanting to hear more, to know more. "I didn't know that though. About transforming back on Cybertron. I would have thought it -was- to be discreet at times, but that's only because I guess I only think in today's standards. It wasn't?"

Suddenly knowing that made her understand something from a whole other point of view. It must be really hard, because of your alt mode. Everyone else can drive, they can just be even the Prime himself - but he has to constantly keep out of sight, hidden, his function on a bit of a chokehold. Like if I couldn't run- it's the same thing, I guess. If I couldn't run here...

Not something to dwell on, she decided with a soft whuffle of her vents.

"So this is really hard for everyone to hide from the humans," Dart said thoughtfully. "It's just- not something that anyone ever did. Is it hard to cope with sometimes?"

"Sometimes," said Max.

He thought about it. "Like I said, the need to disguise or conceal yourself wasn't a common issue back home - well not unless your it was a part of your function. Form served function there for a long time. You had a purpose, your alternate mode allowed you to serve it. Or perhaps it's more accurate it say it was the other way around. Your form defined your purpose."

Max gave her a sidelong up and down glance. "For example: this vehicle you transform into - it's fast, correct? You'd have been given a function that requires speed. You probably would have ended up a courier on pre-war Cybertron as well. I'm a warbuild. Everything about me was designed from the ground up for combat, including my alternate mode. So obviously I didn't wind up a librarian."

He motioned with his hand. "I can't speak for every Cybertronian out there, but I think using your alternate mode to serve a purpose other than your designated function throws off a lot of people. You turn into a mobile weapons platform? Well, you'd better not do your job in public, or you're going to draw unwanted notice from the humans. You're a fighter jet? Stay out of aerial combat over a settled region, for the same reason. Half of your existence has suddenly been co-opted into a new role, and not by your own choice. Maybe that's why you get bots who act out and blow their cover doing stupid things," he added with a hint of sour humour.

The courier was listening to every word. So much information, so different, about them themselves. These were the pieces she did not have. They were pieces that were so much a part of all of those around her. Then she frowned. "I think, hearing this, I- I have it really good," she admitted. "I never thought that, either. But I can do what I'm built to do, day in and day out here, and that part, you're right- I do love."

"But you built things. Monuments, right?" the courier wondered, as she swept into the other lane to pass a lumbering truck beside them. "So there was something that- wasn't designed in that from the ground up to be a a fighter."

"Artist," she said after a moment. "Have that eye, still, in that you see what I show in a way that most Cybertronians don't."

"Do they really blow cover?" she asked, with a blink. "Ah, we'd get in so much trouble for that, you'd get--"

The courier's avatar seemed to take a sudden breath. "Really... really hurt. If not dead."

"There have been close calls," said Max. "Luckily it was nothing that couldn't be covered up."

He supposed the Autobots at least had Agent Fowler and Raf to thank for that. He absently flexed his hand and watched the tendons flex beneath the weathered skin before resting his arm back on the window sill. "The rest can be attributed to luck. But yeah. I can imagine you'd be in worse trouble if you were to go against orders and break your disguise like that. Autobots get lectured, maybe imprisoned in serious cases. I can't picture Megatron being satisfied with that sort of punishment."

He scowled, but only briefly. "Anyway. Yeah. I suppose it's true that some people do side-step their function at times. I wasn't big on a combat role, not at first. But I wore into it. There's no need for architects on Cybertron anymore."

Max shrugged. "But the Autobots here do need fighters."

Dart looked at him. For a second, something flashed in her eyes, unsure, that expression that her human avatar couldn't hide. The robot had learned to, over the years, to tuck emotion away, to click her hands at her back and stare at the ground. Avoid contact.

The avatar did not. The girl's teeth chewed slightly on her lower lip as she mulled over a question that she'd held close. The scent of men on him back where they met, not the smell of children.

Then she simply nodded.

"Wore into it," she echoed. "Yea. I understand that, honest, but... I dunno. Maybe not on Cybertron. Maybe somewhere else. Or maybe- when it's all over we get to go back to what we want to be, and not what we've needed to be along the way to get there."

"And yeah, they do," she nodded, quietly sidestepping those thoughts of punishment. She'd made exactly that mistake. Sidestepped her orders- for all the right reasons she'd thought at the time. Some of them were still the right reasons. "Not easy to try and keep folks safe."

Max frowned. He had no idea where he wanted to wind up at the end of the war. What did he want to be, if he had the choice? His skill set was impressive, but limited. He didn't particularly like the idea of finding himself obsolete once the conflict was over.

The thought abruptly struck him as being a discomforting one, and he hurriedly pushed it aside.

"No, it isn't," he said heavily. "Not always. It's not as straightforward as simply pointing a gun at an enemy and pulling the trigger on this planet. Cybertron was so burnt out at the end there was little left to ruin. Everything here is - living. Breakable, in a way. You see a lot more collateral damage in places like this. And when you're trying to maintain a cover on top of that..."

He shrugged one shoulder. "It's different. Very different."

At that deep note in his voice, the courier's avatar shifted gently in her seat. The seatbelt stretched gently over the avatar's shoulder, pale grey. Like the rest of her interior, it appeared old but as to be expected, it didn't have much if any of the wear that was on her exterior. None of the scuffs and scratches. Unlike most of the Autobot sports cars, the sunshine dulled off her finish.

"Absolutely different," she replied. She may not have had memory, but the pieces she'd learned kept solidifying this fact over and over. So different. "You work hard to keep folks safe, but- it's thankless, too. Most humans won't know how many times you've helped. I mean- if they knew, I think they would."

"At least I think so," she said slowly. "But yes. That's it. Everything's alive, and it's too easy to end with collateral damage that everyone gets in deep for."

"I'm lucky, I guess. I've never had to look at a world I love and see just a burnt out battleground. That- that's got to really, really hurt."

"Hm," said Max.

He thought about it for a moment, staring out the window. Then he looked around to the courier.

"I guess you wouldn't have seen Cybertron when it was at its worst, being activated here on Earth," he said. "I didn't see it at the end either, to be honest with you. I was stationed elsewhere by then, on another planet. I hear that once the Exodus happened Cybertron was more or less dead, just greyed-out wreckage. But I was there for a particularly large battle before that - if you could even call it a battle - and after it was over the whole southern hemisphere glowed hot for years afterwards."

He grimaced. "It was ugly. Half the population was wiped out. It ruined a lot of Autobot survivors and nearly won the Decepticons the war. Things just got worse after that. I hope nothing like it ever happens here. I don't think we're capable of creating that kind of widespread devastation again, but even a fraction of it would be bad."

Dart listened. There was the warm hum of the pavement under her tires as she banked gently through a long, sweeping corner. The big car was built to run on this sort of rode. Her alt mode swept forward, smooth and powerful, settling into a rhythm of engine that rose and fell, a mechanical lope that ate up the mile markers by the sides of the road. Out the window there was red stone, and beside them the smooth hills were beginning to rise more jagged by the sides of the road.

Max would be able to see tiny patterns of marks in some of those sheer faces; old blasting marks- diamond shaped clusters of holes about the size of a human fist that went a hundred feet up.

"Was that the last battle there?" she asked quietly. "Was that the one that just started to get things off planet? They wouldn't be capable of it though? Why- what..."

She caught herself and offered up a bit of a smile. "I guess I just can't fathom all of that," the courier told him. "At least you were stationed somewhere else. Not that it makes that any better, but I can't- I mean the humans always fear nuclear war, and how much damage it could do. I can't imagine that sort of destruction."

Even space lasers were confined to a path.

Max turned back from where he was studying the marks in the rock.

"It wasn't the last battle, but it was one of the biggest," he said. "You could call it a turning point in the war. The Autobot retaliation to it was brutal, but it reversed our losses and helped us win back some ground before we were wiped out. Things got more pitched after that. You saw more destruction, more skirmishes. I suppose you could call it the last decline down to the Exodus."

He raised a hand and wobbled it back and forth. "I can't tell you much about what happened after the massacre. But if you ever see any images of Cybertron now - vids, holos - what you'll be looking at is mostly a result of those last vicious battles. I don't know what nuclear war looks like, but I can't imagine anything looking much worse that Cybertron did when I left it. It was dying when I did."

Max caught sight of her tiny smile and trailed off. He lowered his hand and gruffly cleared his throat. "Anyway. Maybe you shouldn't try to imagine it. You've got a good planet here. Enjoy it."

"No no, it's- it's okay. I mean- it's not okay and I hate to ask you to talk about it - but it's okay to hear it or think of it," she hastened to reassure him. "It sounds awful but I don't have any frame of reference." A faint note of frustration crept into her words. "Haven't heard about any of this. I don't -know- any of this. I mean, I've heard about it in passing, kind of. Little bits and pieces. But nothing about any of this. Nothing about half a world destroyed in one battle. Nothing about what happened to send folks off into the galaxy."

"I've maybe seen a holo," she admitted to him. "My commander keeps a holo cube on his desk but it's not-- what you describe. So I'm assuming it's before all of this."

"But the word massacre... yeah, that explains a lot. They had those types of things here on Earth, too. I just can't fathom the scale of fighting like that. Even Earth scales."

"Were you reassigned? Was that why you left?"

Probably a lot before. It was a millions of years in the past by Maximus' memory that Cybertron looked like anything beyond a grey and ashen wasteland. That holo cube had to be a memento itself.

"Reassigned?" he said absently. "I was- oh. Yeah."

All at once Max sobered. He leaned off the door. "Yeah, that's why I left. By that point I was a ranking officer, and had been for some time. I walked out of the massacre alive and with some notches to my name. So the Autobots deemed me in fit to take over a difficult assignment off Cybertron, on a planet called Elba. There was an Autobot outpost there, that, uh…"

Max trailed off again. He gave her an askance look, one eye narrowed. "Wait. You hadn't heard about this part of the narrative yet? I thought it was common knowledge by this point."

Dart shifted in her seat. She took her left hand off the wheel but kept the right one on it, wrapping her fingers a little tighter around it.

"Honestly? I know enough to get by so that someone doesn't look at me like I'm completely messed up. I mean, I listen to everything I can, and I have, but I've not been stationed around a lot of the crew, and it's not something they talk about. I hear bits and pieces," the courier replied. "It's like a puzzle sometimes. And they're one side of things. No one's really talked to me about it, but then again, maybe that's because I'm always a little afraid to ask."

At his narrowed eye, she immediately shook her head and straightened up, shoulders level. "No sir. Don't know about Elba, or anything else. It's okay, though. I don't need to know, promise. I just... "

A sheepish smile. "Was listening to you. I got caught up in that."

Though Max grunted, he also relaxed somewhat.

"I believe you," he said. "You listen better than most Autobots I know. That's a valuable skill. I wish more people had it."

He was silent for a moment, his brow creased in thought as he studied the dash. "Anyway. Bits and pieces are enough. Good to know it's only that. Maybe I can fill in a few of the gaps. I was reassigned to a somewhat infamous penitentiary to serve as its warden. That's why I missed the end of the war and the Exodus. The war found us eventually however, and things went poorly. I made it out in the end. Eventually I came here to Earth. There wasn't really anyone to tell me not to, least of all the medics."

A small nod of assent in her direction. "I know the Decepticons still have Megatron and the flagship, but Autobot High command is mostly gone by this point. That's fairly common knowledge as well. Save for Optimus there's no one to tell us where to go and what to do anymore. Maybe I'll return to Cybertron eventually. Haven't decided yet."

Max eyed her again. "Would you go to see it? Cybertron, I mean."

Dart relaxed a little too; for a moment she'd been terribly concerned she'd crossed over a line and that was one thing she simply didn't want to do. His company was thoughtful, interesting, and the words he spoke were there in that quiet way she herself understood. There was more to this discussion in how restrained he was, in the words he chose to describe. A lot of retrospection.

It took her a moment to process it. When she did, it came with a hiss and a sibilant voice. The Warden.

Sunlight streamed through the windows. Outside the sky was brilliant blue. Around them the tawny dirt and sage had shifted into craggy, tall, steep inclines of grey and red stones. Powerlines stretched along them in massive steel structures.

www.stonelight-cardigans.com/vegas15/roadwaydam.jpg

Dart remembered the conversation. Phase sixer. Something even Starscream had in his own way been wary of. His discussion about what had happened to the mech beside her, nothing specific. That his prison he watched over had turned into an abattoir. Every Autobot guard and prisoner dead...

Except for the mech next to her.

Went poorly. That was familiar, his quiet understatement. She'd done it herself a lot since Australia.

"They must have really known you could do the job, then to assign you to something like that. That's where the Autobot you were talking about earlier was from, wasn't it?" she asked quietly. "No wonder you were wary about that situation."

A little pause. "It sounds rough. Well... hey, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're here."

She smiled. "Yeah. They do. They have that flagship. I've been on it a few times. Once since I got back but I hate it. It smells like recycled air and oil and too many things for me to process without going into a bit of a panic," the courier admitted. "Plus it moves, ugh."

"You know-- I don't know. About Cybertron. I think so. Just- just to say I'd seen it. I don't have to set foot on it," she told him, with a lift of her shoulder. The sleeve of her T-shirt rippled, the edges slightly threadbare. "I don't know if I want to do that."

"Then I worry," she admitted to him. "That if I was to see it, will I remember things I don't want to remember after all? Sometimes, I remember little flashes of things. Or I think I do. And I think it's Cybertron but for all I know it could be some part of a Star Wars movie."

Max couldn't think of a thing to add to that.

So instead he sat in silence and stared at the great steel powerlines that ran along the blasted rock and hills at the side of the road. It took him a minute to overcome his surprise at her open, friendly humbleness, and the ease with which she had continued on with the conversation. It wasn't often he was spoken to in such a down-to-earth fashion. It was a little refreshing, if he was going to be honest with himself.

Out of a lack of anything better to say, he cleared his throat. "I can't say anything about it being like a movie, but it seems likely that whatever you do - remember? - is part of Cybertron. Those flashes, I mean. Unless you were stationed on another planet for a long time before that. It happens. The Decepticons conquered many different planets. None of us were confined to Cybertron alone. Maybe there was another place before Earth."

"I will say, if you're worried about what you might remember, then don't push it," he added with a slightly warning look. "Take it from me. Sometimes things are better left forgotten. You seem like you have a good life here on Earth. I will say, it doesn't sound like you spent a lot of time stationed aboard a warship before this. "A trace of humour entered his voice, and the corner of his mouth tugged up. "You usually get used to the smell when you are. And the moving."

The courier had settled into quiet the moment he had. She rested her hands on the wheel and gently kept them in the lane. Underneath the rumble of the car's engine, there was that soft, faint sound of the radio. A few strains of music came through - guitar but nothing like Miko's style of play. Much softer, more twang - not electric.

"Yeah, I think it might be too," she nodded. "Nothing to base it on, but- it's nothing from here, pretty sure."

"I won't," she replied solemnly. "Promise. I don't push on that stuff. Someone once told me it was easier to keep going forward than looking back, and I have to say I totally agree. Past is past, can't change that, you know?"

Then again that might have been from the Lion King, but Dart was pretty sure it wasn't. Those rare moments where she actually got to sit and watch a whole movie? Priceless. Raiders of the Lost Ark? Best movie ever. Better with company.

When he smiled though the courier couldn't help it, she laughed. "Nope, not used to the smell or the moving," she offered with a grin. "Knowing my luck, if a memory decides to come back about a ship, it would be of someone peeling me out from under a chair or out of the overhead luggage bins while I babble on about flotation devices."

"I don't think space cruisers have seat cushions in water landings," she chuckled.

[Dart]

For his part Max looked relaxed in his seat, his arm on the door. All he needed to complete the picture was a rolled down window, and the warm desert wind in his hair.

"Past is past," he agreed grimly. "And... wait. Seat cushions. I think I get this reference. That's an airline thing, isn't it."

He glanced at her in amusement, his previous gravity fading away. "I don't get a lot of those jokes, but that one I do know. You really have been on this planet a while. Can't think of too many Decepticons that came down on the Nemesis who would talk like you do. Like the humans. That's a compliment. And no. I can't say I've ever been aboard a flagship like the Ark or the Nemesis for any extended tours, but I feel confident saying that the seats probably don't float. Along with ninety-nine percent of the crew."

Dart looked up at him and then absolutely laughed. It was one of those rare, open laughs from the courier because the thought was utterly hilarious. What made it even more so was coming from the oh so serious mech next to her. Well, he wasn't entirely serious all the time. She'd caught that sense of humor more than a few times. It was kept close, shared carefully, but she found it even more wonderful because of it. "Ninety nine percent," she chortled. "Hee, you wonder what the one percent of crew has that they do? Maybe they turn into canoes. Or boats."

The young woman leaned back in the grey fabric seat, her fingers relaxed on her wheel as they sped down the highway. The red and tan rocks were rising high above them; getting more and more rugged and jagged as the road sloped downwards in a series of curves.

"You got it perfectly," she told him with a delighted smile. "Absolutely perfectly, yes. Aw, no one really ever get those references, so I'm glad you laughed. Yes, it's totally an airline thing, and aw, thanks. I- I mean the talking like a human. That means a lot. I try. No, I don't think the others do. I think there's a few, kind of like I've met some Autobots that did..."

"Once you start really dealing with humans, you pick it up pretty fluently," she admitted. "Well the language. Some of the weird nuances are tough."

She wasn't kidding about that. Maximus had grasped a little over half of the incomprehensible lingo of the children. The jargon of the military base was much easier to follow. He understood that language.

"Agreed," he said. "The human vocabulary can get strange at times. I had a hell of a time just understanding what was being said over the local radio stations when I first arrived. Too much slang. It was… weird is the right word to use. It was weird."

He spent a moment reflecting on that humorously. "I got used to it though. Most of it. Sometimes. I think most of the other Autobots picked it up faster than I did. Half of them speak like natives of the planet now. Too much television maybe. Some of them really get into human entertainment. I'll admit I don't see the appeal of a lot of it. Think I'll stick with the news."

"Oh gosh, radio is tough," she nodded and shifted her weight in the seat. "It's depends on where in the country and the difference between rock stations and news, and yeah... so much is very different from day to day."

"I think it's interesting how much they do," she agreed. "It's true. I think maybe the difference is that most Autobots seem open-minded enough to find other cultures fascinating. Decepticons only look on them as something they're forced to deal with. No more than that. Aw, I dunno, you picked up the hot dog thing, that's not something most folks even know about."

"Do you like any of it?" she asked. "Human entertainment? Songs? Movies?"

Max frowned, but in thought.

"Not really," he admitted. "I don't dislike it. It's just difficult to relate to for the most part. It's hard to follow a narration when you're only familiar with a fraction of its historic or cultural background. Even with music - it might sound good, but I'm sure I'm missing a significant part of its message when the lyrics describe human experiences you can't entirely share. Maybe that’s just Miko's music though. Ha."

He smiled. Then he immediately made a pained face. "Don't get me started on television though. That I really don't see the entertainment in. Tried it one night and gave up. Not really my thing."

Max rubbed his jaw in contemplation and looked over at the courier. "I do read, though. At the- well, in my spare time."

A nod. It made total sense. Dart could understand a lot of it, a lot of the nuances, but some of it went right over her head as well. Especially some of the new songs out there. Justin Beiber was okay, but he wasn't high on her listening list - well, maybe his Christmas music. Dart just loved Christmas music, she could admit it. "I dunno what Miko listens to," she contemplated. "You might like some stuff that's more -I dunno. Lyrics that are more down to earth."

The courier laughed and shook her head. "Down to earth, there's a phrase."

"Television can be good and it can be really bad," Dart agreed "It's got a lot of just-- junk programs. I can't get into a lot of it either, not that I get much of a chance to watch it now. I like documentaries though, like nature ones, but I'd rather go out and see it for myself when I can."

"What do you read?" she asked, incredibly interested.

"Newspapers. I began with newspapers anyway," said Max. He scratched his chin and looked out the window contemplatively. "They were the easiest at first. And they seemed a good place to start getting a grip on the situation and recent events of the local area. I still read them when I can. Luckily there are always copies around somewhere."

He squinted. "These days I read a lot of technical manuals. They're interesting. And useful, given that the Autobots as a whole tend to end up interacting with a lot of human systems and machinery. They're a straightforward read, no knowledge of prior history or culture or beliefs required. A little dry, but that's fine. I'd rather have the facts and data than be entertained. Other than that…"

Max hesitated. When he spoke again it was a trace of reluctance, as if he were admitting something. "Only recently I've tried reading books. You know. Fiction. Someone is always recommending something. If I've got nothing better to do I'll read it. Speculative fiction isn't bad. Gets a bit outlandish sometimes, but it's all right. What do they call it?

Science fiction. The rest doesn't interest me. Well, the books on history are good."

"I read a lot of papers too," she admitted. He was right, it was a good way to sort of understand things. "I used to be able to get them anywhere, tossed out and stuff. Now that everything's gone to electronic media, it's a lot harder.

Hotels are good though. They give free papers and they just get tossed in the recycle bins."

Dart was not good at reading technical manuals. That sort of information was difficult for her to process. Maximus could though, and she admired that- he was right. It was good to have an understanding of base systems and they were straightforward. Like car repair manuals. This here, that there, fix like this. Made sense."

The courier nodded and then inclined her head towards her backseat where she'd tossed the books when he'd sat down earlier. "I love books. There's this used book store in Portland. That's where I get most of mine now. It's just huge. Like three stories of used books. I love natural history, but I adore a lot science fiction," she told him. "I guess I did that
to you too, recommended Asimov."

She glanced back out the window. "Hey, getting close to the checkpoint," she told him. "Check it out. Helicopter rides."


A lift of her hand as she indicated the vehicle up on that craggy edge overlooking the highway. "They fly out over Lake Mead and the dam. I think some of them go as far as Black Canyon."

Max unconsciously glanced at the backseat when she did. He studied the books lying there. Asimov, that was it. That was the name of the author in particular he had started looking into with more interest. He had the courier to thank for that, and the book she had given him. He was still reading it now, when he was alone at the base. Had to use his human avatar to do so, which had been a little disorienting at first. He was getting used to it by now though.

At the mention of the checkpoint he looked back out the window again. He spied the helicopter right away; its bright blue and white paint stood out against the dull rocks and dirt. He leaned forward a little to watch it as they drove past.

"They go that far?" he said. "Huh. I've spotted aircraft flying over the desert before, but never stopped to note what they were." Now that his targeting systems no longer reflexively tried to auto-lock any aerial vehicle that passed overhead anyway. "I suppose the desert would be interesting to tourists. I'll have to watch out for them. Makes sense that this tour company would be operating near the dam. Bet a lot of people want to go up to take a look at it."

Max fell silent for a moment, contemplating that.

Vertebrate Paleontology and Evolution was the largest book that had ended up on the far corner of the back seat. It was a thick, hardcover volume, with a sensible grey cover. Several soft-bounds as well; she'd given him that copy of the third Asimov book, but she herself had bought a few cheap ones, a couple of fiction novels. One had a ship on the cover but the way Max was sitting, he likely couldn't quite make out the title.

There was a steady stream of humans milling up around that road to the copter. A parking lot full of cars that looked too new to be anything but rentals. "Yeah, they do," she said. "I've seen them a few times, and..."

Dart glanced over. "There's going to be people," she told him. "I tried to pick a time that was a little slower, though. It really starts filling up around noon. It'll be okay though. They're all tourists, we don't look out of place."

She glanced down at herself. "We look like people," she reassured him. "Like ordinary folks. Our avatars aren't flashy or silly."

Despite himself, Max winced. He knew his avatar was solid, but he was honest enough to admit to himself that his people skills were lacking. Human people skills, anyway.

He held out his hands and examined them. He absently brushed one sleeve. Yeah, solid. He had a good holo generator. Simple, but good. He knew he could physically pass for a human, and that his avatar was unremarkable enough that most humans would accept and overlook him. That was what he wanted. But the nuances of behaviour and manner that came so easily to the courier came off as stiff and stilted when he attempted to mimic them. That, and he had been told he had a tendency to glower.

Max lowered his hands. He attempted a wry smile. "We do," he said. "And... let's put it this way: I trust you to take the lead when it comes to crowds. Of tourists. I'll just... follow your lead."

Dart watched him examine his hands for a moment. "You'll do fine," she assured him, and then smiled. She lifted a hand and crooked a finger. "Trust me. Here's a secret. Well it's not much of a secret, but it's the truth. You're more human than a lot of folks I've met. That's all it takes out there. A little humanity goes a long way."

"I've got the lead, though," she agreed with a solemn nod. "I'm a good lead pony, haha."

Max had unconsciously leaned towards the crooked finger with a frown; when she revealed her secret he fell back again with a quiet chuckle.

"Well," he said, and looked back at the window. He was still smiling faintly, his face turned to hide it. "I'm not sure how true that is, but I also trust you have better insight into the matter than I do. Thank you."

He cleared his throat gruffly, then shuffled upright. "And, uh. Speaking of the lead. What should I know before we get there? I'm sure there's some sort of admittance process. A big hydroelectric dam like that, it can't be a straightforward walk to get into. Can it? I've not exactly visited many large attractions."

"Cross my heart, totally true," she told him. "You're welcome. Um, as for the situation - actually, it is," Dart said and wrapped her fingers around the wheel again, resetting her gaze on the road. "Kind of, according to the internet. I've never gone this way either, so I'm hoping I've got it right. There's a checkpoint we have to go through, but it's just pretty much visual. I don't think we'll set off any weird stuff, neither of us fit the sort of profiles they'd pull over for. I'm a car, not a truck; they don't allow trailers on the dam."

"After that it's just a parking garage and you can walk right down and across the dam, according to the net. It's open to the public during the day."

Max drummed his fingers on his knees at the mention of a checkpoint, though outwardly he remained stoic. 

"That does sound straightforward," he said. "I'm sure neither one of us is unusual enough for them to flag us, especially with the volume of people they must admit at a place like this regularly. Glad to hear it's not a big deal."

If he could handle admittance into a military base, he could handle this. Max nodded. "You can actually walk across the top of the dam? I wouldn't have expected that. Bet the view is a good one."

Around them, crags of grey rock rose. The road was beginning to slope downwards sharply. Next to Max the guardrail flickered silver in the sun. It was a low rail, about even with the courier's wheelwell, and right on the other side was a low wash with brittle green brush. High tension wires strung across the miles, anchored by big metallic posts.

"Totally straightforward," she agreed. "It's not military. They just got a bit more nervous after 9-11 down here, and they man it with a sniffer dog sometimes. No, we're not. Not even my car form is, and I don't have any thing that would trigger on ordinance or anything explosive. Promise, I don't even know how to use a gun."

"Yep, right across," she nodded. "I saw it in a brochure when I was in the Canyon."

"It looked like a good one," she agreed. "Like a great view. There's also a bridge you can walk up to and walk on, way up in the air. Crazy, but that might be a bit too high for me to process. I don't want to have you have to laugh and carry me off in front of a bunch of tourists."

A light sniff came from the car's vents. "I'm kidding," she said, and the avatar winked a little. "I'd just run like heck off the bridge."

Traffic had picked up and was steadily flicking past them. Practical sedans full of couples and families, in a steady line. The road had narrowed down to two lanes, and the bright stripe of the yellow lines warned- no, this was no place to pass another car.

Dart looked and then pointed her nose towards a bright yellow sign on Max's side of the car. "Hey, we're only half a mile-- checkpoint's not far."

Max regarded her in amusement, and opened his mouth to speak. But then the yellow warning sign caught his attention.

"Security check station," he read. "Half mile ahead. Guess they do take security here seriously. As they should.

Good on them. This seems like an important installation. Given its importance to the power distribution system of the state of Nevada, Arizona, and California it presents a viable target to those who might seek to destabilize the infrastructure of those areas. And I'm sure it makes for a good tourist attraction as well," he added hastily, when he realised he was falling back into his old military demeanour.

He coughed and, finally giving way to an urge that had struck him ever since they turned onto the highway, he hesitantly rolled down the side window. A fresh burst of warm desert air blew against his face and through his shirt, making him squint. He leaned his elbow on the sill. "So… do you think there will be a lineup of cars at this checkpoint?

And… wait, would a sniffer dog be able to detect that we're not human?"

"Yeah, there's probably a small lineup, we're early," she explained. "Later on in the day it would be a mess but also it's a weekday and not a weekend, we're fine. Tourists usually flock to areas on a weekend. Anywhere you go on a weekday, it's usually at least half to a quarter of weekend traffic. Even places like Vegas."

"That's the best time to see things," she told him. It was - Dart knew all those places were quiet during the weekdays. Except maybe downtown Portland or other cities like it - those weren't so great during the week. So busy with working people and traffic.

"During the week," she reiterated. "And oh! Dogs? Yes, they can. But right now we have all the smells of everything we're with, like - like walking to the car, we smell like dirt and even driving we've picked up scents from outside. What they're more focused on is- well, not us. But hmm, if you handled a ton of ordinance with your avatar - or if I was carrying a missile or something, it certainly might set them off."

She shook her head. "But each time we reset the avatar, scent's gone," Dart mused. "Like - if you need to ever get through somewhere and you're concerned about a dog maybe keying in on you? Roll on someone's dirty clothes or something."

"Well, um, or maybe just see if someone will let you borrow their cologne," she said. "Honestly, the dog might think we're weird but they have nothing to relate it to. Like - we're weird but we're not dangerous, the dog hasn't been trained to alert at a lack of smell, but for a smell."

A laugh. "Unlike Terminator," Dart offered as they smoothly navigated three turns in a row. The nose of the Trans-Am was now sharply downward. Max would see the landscape around them changing even more into rugged, sharp terrain, and what had been a gentle edge to his side of the guard rail suddenly was yawning away into deep ruts and chasms, interspersed with large chunks of weathered stone.

That was a bit of a relief. Max didn't know how busy the weekend crowds got, but he was sure he didn't want to deal with them. Large groups of people still made him uncomfortable.

Her assurance gave him pause.

"I don't handle a lot of ordinance, no," he said slowly. "But I have been - in the vicinity of people who have recently. I hope that isn't a problem."

Max didn't know how to admit he had been on a military base recently without actually saying it. His brow furrowed, he added, "But… I've also reset the avatar since then, so that scent should be gone, correct? Yeah. I'm good, then. And roll on clothing, really? That works."

He looked sceptical. "I'll have to try it. Maybe without the rolling. Age- the humans I associate with should have clothing I could use. Luckily the need to throw off a tracking dog hasn't arisen lately. At least the two of us won't appear strange to any that might be manning this checkpoint ahead. And wait. Who is Terminator?"

He gave her a perplexed look. "I don't recognise the name. That's not a Decepticon, is it."

"No, it's a movie," she offered. "A human movie about a robot from the future who comes to kill the only human that can stop the rise of the robots."

"Sure sounds like some name a Decepticon would give himself, doesn't it?" she agreed, with a wrinkle of her nose. "Or like something they'd name a ship. It's really a movie though, promise. It's pretty good, if you like Sci-Fi."

"Hmm? Oh, no, no, shouldn't be a problem," Dart replied and glanced over at him. "It just is one of those scents that clings. I notice it a lot too, and I didn't smell it, we're okay. Someone else working with it that's been around you, no. You're fine unless you're touching them a lot or uh..."

"Touching a lot," she decided. There, much safer way to say things. No potholes there, honest.

Dart inclined her head slightly. She'd caught both little skips and wasn't sure how to say things. She knew the Autobots had human allies, and it was one of the things she seriously... well- she appreciated it on some level. On a lot of levels.

"If you have human friends," Dart said carefully. "Ask them, if you ever need to go into some place where you might be concerned of someone - or something tracking you by scent. It may not work perfect, but it just might get you by someone who is looking for an avatar like that. Especially if you can use some soap or cologne."

The sharp curves of the slope were smoothing out now into a flattened area. In front of them was a highway overpass. There were signs up everywhere now, warning of this and that; big trucks needed to be wary , and that vehicles were subject to inspection. The natural craggy area here had been smoothed and the median covered with pale rock and planted with bushes. A drainage ditch was on both sides, covered with buff concrete.

The lines by the side of the road had become a jumble overhead, criss-crosses of power on tall steel lattices that rose against the bright blue sky.

Max almost laughed. No, not a lot of touching.

"I will ask them," he said. "It's a good suggestion. No point in trying to act human if you leave gaps in your disguise. And with human enemies out there we don't know who might be trying to track us. So… good suggestion. I'll keep it in mind."

He spoke in satisfaction, with an air of finality.

Ahead of them was an overpass. Max took advantage of the distraction it prevented to study the signs nearby. There were close now, if the rock and the warnings were any indication. And there were even more wires and poles now, a steel lattice of them. He looked up and through the windshield at the towers as they drew near.

"This place produces a tremendous amount of electricity," he noted. "I read about it. Three states draw power from here. I'm surprised. I wouldn't have thought hydroelectric generation could supply that kind of demand. Then again I suppose it wasn't exactly common back home. How long has this dam been in use?"

The courier eased down her speed. "Okay..." she said, even as she glanced over at the bright blue sign that was in front of them. For the first time, she sounded a bit unsure.

Dart was. It was- one thing to lose yourself on a busy Portland street. Another to walk into a guitar shop and ask about repairing a guitar. Heck, it was even mellow to go into a bookstore for a few hours and pretend to eat a muffin. It was another thing to see that sign. It was bold and it was blue and it basically stated that there were people here who were looking to see if you were a terrorist.

Which-- uh, she supposed that Decepticons fully counted, and then she wondered if she should have grabbed some duct tape and covered up that sigil in the middle of her hood even more. Dirt helped, so did the road grime and dust on her dull black paint. It wasn't standing out too noticeably. Well, the world wasn't supposed to know about giant alien robots, so hopefully it would pass off as an odd decal. College students these days. Maybe she could say it was from some band.

Great. The only bands she knew were from the eighties. So not helpful right now.

"It does," she said, trying to force her brain back on track. "You did? Neat. Yeah. It does. It's amazing, and ummm... since the late 30's. I think. I don't remember the exact date. I remember they started it in 1931."

"It also supplies water," she told him. "Thing is, they've got serious problems with drought and then the fact that California takes a lot of water, and when they divided the water was like nearly a hundred years ago, when the area was going through a wet period."

She shifted in her seat. "It's just - there's not enough water in the river to meet demands downstream, and California doesn't make businesses like orchards pay more in water costs. Agriculture there produces like fifteen percent of what people in the States eat."

"But it takes three quarters of this river to do it," she said. "They're worried that if things keep going like they are, there's going to be a time when the dam can't produce electricity."

"Where'd you read on the dam?" she asked, even as she carefully came to a stop behind the line of cars waiting to get through the checkpoint.

A large concrete border, with several khaki uniformed officers was right in front of them. There was a makeshift tent for shade, but on her side of the car loomed a little kiosk. There was an officer out front holding up his hand for each car to stop, and he briefly peered into the car each time before waving them on their way.

Max nodded solemnly.

Her interest in the dam was evident in the details; she had clearly looked into its history for herself at some point. Perhaps it was a favourite sight of hers. He thought of the knowledge in geology she had displayed in glimpses in the past, and then wondered if it was perhaps more than that. Either way, it was interesting to listen to. He knew little of geology, but it was a good practical subject he could get into.

"Mostly through online databases," he admitted. He absently held one hand into the slight airflow outside the window. "A bit from books. Online is easier to access for the most part, but it's not always reliable. Thankfully the databases I do have access to tend to be accurate. But I've only skimmed the Dam. I didn't think I'd ever get to see it up close."

The admission was frank rather than regretful. Max eyed the uniformed officer at the border as they rolled to a halt behind the other cars. "I'd heard California was a dry state. Hadn't realised it was as energy-hungry as all that. So is the flow of water through the dam receding? Or is it just that the power demands from downstream are increasing sharply?"

"Yes and yes to both," the courier replied. She frowned slightly. "It's just - a different world from when they drew up those agreements. No one ever expected the amount of water consumption, I think. California also offers flat rates for water in many areas so- uh, a lot of agricultural groups have been fighting them to put in meters. Same with apartments. One person pays as much as a farm. Makes no sense."

She shook her head. "I know," she said suddenly. "Just things I've heard. I have a lot of time to think out there on my own."

The car in front of them was waved through. The courier's engine revved slightly, the vehicle shifted over her tires. It was obvious she was nervous as she looked over at Max, and then the vents snuffled again, breathing deep of the air and the pavement and the smell of humans.

So instead she concentrated on rolling down her window, since the sign there next to her told her to, and then let her avatar sit up straight. There was the slightest flicker from her fingers; the edge of her shirtsleeve turned grey and static before it solidified once more.

The officer in the kiosk eyed the car. Max would see the man's eyes go to her front plate, and then a second later there was that telltale shift of the officer's shoulders. As someone who no doubt knew a soldier watching a checkpoint, Max would see that exact moment where he looked into the car as a cursory gesture - saw the two there, and dismissed them as simply one more set of tourists. A lift of the man's hand, he waved them on, and underneath the two occupants of the vehicle, the Trans-Am
shuddered in silent and obvious relief. It was hidden by the rumble of her engine as she smoothly accelerated away from the checkpoint and headed under another overpass, following the rest of the traffic.

It took her a long moment to settle. Dart fidgeted and then she glanced over at the mech's avatar.

Then she simply laughed. "I admit it," she told him. "I was kinda scared they'd know."

[Dart]

Even Max sat uncomfortably upright as they rolled beneath the eyes of the officer. He knew his avatar was solid, but knowing it never did still the niggling thought that a real human could see straight through him and recognise his mannerisms as alien. As alike as the two species might be, the differences were real enough that he often had difficulty trusting the similarities.

But the man was quick and efficient in his job, and a moment later they were driving away from the border. Max let out the breath that he shouldn't have been capable of holding. It had been as easy as that. He relaxed back into the seat.

"I won't lie to you," he said. He met her gaze and the corner of his lip lifted wryly. "I was a little worried they'd know as well. Every time. Still haven't gotten used to being around humans yet. I thought you looked pretty calm about it. You always seem to be."

The Trans-Am's side mirror twitched and angled to look behind them. Her left headlight popped up slightly as well, as if the car was keeping a sharp eye on the men. Just in case someone came running, jumped into a police vehicle, and chased them down with with the lights flashing.

Then the inspection station was left behind them, and they were just cruising to keep up with traffic. Wind rumbled through Max's open window and fluttered the covers of the softbound books she'd dumped on the back seat.

"Me, calm?" she echoed. "Aw, thanks. You know, to be honest, I don't think many folks I know call me calm. Jittery, sure. Fidgety. Sniffy. But not calm."

"But here," she told him, with a gentle nudge of her hand towards his open window. "It's just that I guess it feels pretty safe. Ordinary, like no one really notices another human go through day to day things as long as they're not standing out. Heck, they sometimes try to avoid noticing the ones that do. This is a normal, every day thing- tourists going here. The last thing they're looking for is alien life."

"It really is- just... I can't remember the term. There's a term for it among humans that well the thing that's the most obvious is probably what it is. We're just people. Ordinary folks in an old sports car."

The avatar's lashes closed in a quick wink, a silent laugh at that secret between them.

"It was easier having someone with me too," she told him. "You didn't flinch, so I just- I dunno, you trusted that we'd be okay, so I could too. Personally, I'd rather trot around through a downtown crowd of Vegas humans than any of the mechs I- uh..."

Dart trailed off and glanced around them at the rising crags of stone. The roadway was sloping downwards rapidly into sharper curves. "Work with," she said after a moment. "The humans won't hurt you. I don't think most of them would honestly really want to, even if they knew what we are."

Max unconsciously lifted his arm from the window when she gestured. But when he realised what she was motioning to he lowered it again.

"Work with," he said. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right about the humans. Well, most of them, anyway, like you said. There are some out there who wish us harm. But it's pretty safe to say that they're a very small minority."

He frowned, but shook off the dark cloud as quickly as it had lowered over him. He studied the courier again a little more closely.

"You, jittery?" he said. "Huh. I'll be honest: you seem wary at times, but you also seem to have it more together than a lot of other people I know. There's a lot out there to be wary of. You're a lot more down to earth than others I could name. I think that's the phrase I'm looking for. Like going through that checkpoint just now."

Max pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "No big deal. I think you have a better grasp on what's 'normal' for this planet than most other Cybertronians living here right now. Another mech could have turned that into a joke, or a big production."

"Jittery," she repeated. "Trust me, when we first went nose to nose back at the Canyon trust me I was about jumping out of my skin," she admitted to him. "You'll probably laugh, but once we started walking, I was okay. We were moving and I needed to get you out of there, so- I had a task. A job. Made it way easier."

Dart leaned back in the chair. "Saying I'm down to Earth is perfect though," she said, looking rather cheerful. "I'll take it. Earth is a good place to be down to. Huh, that doesn't sound right. Well, it's still a great place, but-"

A slight frown. "Oh heck no," she told him, and looked serious. As serious as a young woman with tangled bangs and a dusty shirt with a horse on it could be. "No. Nothing to joke about. They're doing their job to keep people safe, and the less of a production, the better I like it. I want to be normal, you know? Like- I'm jealous sometimes. I admit it. Of the people. They just have amazing lives and get to be themselves. They may not think so, but trust me, it's pretty special."

A faint huff escaped the car's vents. "But yeah, the bad humans. MECH. They wish us a lot of harm. Actually, they just look at us like something to take apart because well... we're not human." The avatar wrinkled her nose. "I don't think they consider us sentient. Just- programmed to have responses. Like dishwashers and DVR's."

"Makes me nervous," Dart said. "Only because well, they're the sort of humans that are looking for power. Money. That's the goal, to take over something. To use the bits of us as things to develop and sell off to the highest bidder. Gut feeling, anyway."

Max nodded.

"Yeah," he said heavily. "As my understanding goes, that's their intent towards us. We represent a source of significantly advanced technology they want to get their hands on in order to reverse-engineer it and then distribute it - to the highest bidder, of course. All underground. They don't represent any legitimate power. Blackmarket, private militia. That's what I've heard, anyway."

He cleared his throat awkwardly. Who he had heard it from was Agent Fowler - a fact he was certain he was meant to keep quiet. Fowler knew more about MECH than possibly anyone else in the country, but that was not common knowledge. If the man wished for it to be kept quiet, then Max was not about to discuss his secrets. Or reveal his own connection to the military.

He glanced out the window. "Your gut feeling is bang on. Good insight. I'm no expert on humans, but even I can see that MECH doesn't represent humanity as a whole - or even a fraction of it. But I also wonder sometimes what normal humans would think about us if they knew we existed. Would they see us as living entities? Or as machines with particularly sophisticated artificial intelligences? I hadn't really considered the concept of AIs as being that controversial a subject until I started reading some of the fiction on this planet."

Max gave the courier a quick, good humored look at that.

Dart listened quietly. His voice rose and fell- the way the air flowed over her vehicle mode, she was surprisingly hushed, even with the window open. More noise came from her tires, humming over the hot pavement. Heat ripples curled up and made the sides of the road waver; mirages shone like water before they drove through them and they instantly vanished.

He voiced what she had thought. The only other mech she knew who seriously eyed the humans as a threat was Starscream. Out of all of those she knew well, Dart thought he understood exactly how dangerous this situation could be. Yes, he was arrogant about it, sure. He scoffed at them on some levels, but she supposed in a way he had a good grasp on the way schemers thought about things. Mech or human. Plus, in a way, she supposed he understood humans better than most. Well, maybe he thought he did. Who knew.

She did know humans though. What Maximus was saying ticked all the boxes. They were simply looked at as living weapons of mass destruction. The technology to make more drone fighters, to learn the weird technology that some of them carried. Imagine the amount of damage they could do with a teleporter. That was a horrifying thought.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I think you have it right. What we have they want. They want that and their goal is to sell it to other people, and pocket the profits. They'll hold onto some of the technology - can't give away everything. Have to protect yourself, they're not dumb. But there are people on this planet who would pay amazing amounts to get their hands on technology that can't be stopped by any normal military means. Also, no. There's no way they are legit, absolutely not, honest."

"Yeah. They don't represent anyone like this," she said, tipping her head to indicate the tourists in cars in front of them. The road had become narrower, and the curves long and sweeping. The big sports car just seemed to be enjoying it; her systems were built for this kind of road. Dry and down.

"Those people in the canyon who helped us so willingly, no questions asked? Those are the ones that show you what humanity really is made of."

The courier stretched in the seat- an automatic, smooth gesture. The avatar didn't need to stretch or move. That was just her, even though she was loving the drive and the road and the speed. Whirring gently along without even a worry, content in the drive and the company. The headlights lifted and fell back once again, and she appeared thoughtful.

"I think they'd figure out we aren't AI's," she said finally. "We all have different personalities, different ways of responding, we have accents, behaviors, and little things that are our own quirks and it shows. Maybe I'm making this too simple, but I like to think that they would realize we were more like them then most of us realize they're like us."

"If I had to make a guess, most of them would think we were pretty amazing. Sure. Some of them would be scared. Some of them would hate us and want to kill us out of fear. Thinking a few of them would probably develop a new religion around us."

"Hahah, yeah, the fiction is... pretty spot on," she agreed and smiled over at him. "Sorry. I know. I'm rambling. Just- no one talks to me about this stuff. I like it."

A yellow sign flashed past them. It warned of sheep on the roadway; an outline of a ram with big horns making his way down crags. Max would notice that the area on her side up the hill was actually strung with barbed wire. More power towers passed them, massive and steel.

"It's fine," said Max. "You're not rambling. All things worth considering."

He was honest enough to admit to himself that even though he was not much of a talker, he was enjoying the conversation. He shifted his weight in his seat and watched the towers sweep past them, glinting in the desert sun. Aloud, he said, "All in all, I understand the necessity in remaining a secret presence on this planet. You're probably right, and the majority of the human population would come to acknowledge our similarities in time. Maybe if we had come here without conflict following us it would have been easier. As it stands, the risks associated with exposure and discovery are too great. But..."

Max trailed off for a moment. Then he said, slowly, "But, I won't deny I've occasionally wondered what it would be like to exist freely among the native species here. Feels strange to stay hidden. Not what I'm personally used to. I can't speak for the other Autobots. Coming from a position of authority among your own kind to living in concealment out of a fear of discovery is... jarring, to say the least."

There was a shift of the avatar's shoulders as the car's spoiler moved. A tiny, barely recognizable pivot; quick motion, back and forth.

In front of them the road sloped harder and the courier touched a tap of the brakes to slow herself slightly to keep to the speed limits. Well, mostly. Shame on her she was at least five over, whoops. Everyone else was though, so she didn't think it would be a problem.

On Max's side was a large pullout and a bunch of cars gathered there in a group. Dart paused and gestured. "That's the bridge pullout. For the big bridge I was talking about. You can walk across it and look down at the dam."

True to her word, a steady line of tourists was zig-zagging up a rather steep hill. There seemed to be concrete ramps cutting back and forth to turn it into less of a harsh wall in the hot morning sun.

"Not far now, almost there," she said with a bit of obvious excitement. Her fingers shifted on the wheel and her toes tapped against the floor of the car in a delighted motion. Now that she'd stopped worrying that they were going to be pulled over by the police department, whew.

"Yeah I do too," she agreed. "I think it's too much of a risk myself, for everyone. On one hand, it would be wonderful if things were better but... yeah. Too dangerous. For everyone."

She inclined her head. "It has to be," she said quietly. "You're honest and open about a lot of things. You'd rather just face it head on, take care of it. A frontliner of any sort, heck, even an architect? You'd rather be right there, getting the job done as correctly and quickly as possible. Taking care of it up front, yourself."

"Just what I've kind of noticed," she admitted. "You're straightforward, I mean."

The courier rubbed her thumb across the wheel in front of her, as if she was cleaning off a smudge of dust. "Well, I think you'd enjoy it. I would too."

Max leaned over and peered at the distant line of tourists. The glare of the bright sun was enough that even his avatar had to squint to make anything out.

"I like straightforward," he said. "It cuts through a lot of nonsense, which is what some of the Autobot experiences here on Earth have felt like at times, frankly. You've been similarly straight with me from what I can tell as well. Don't think I don't appreciate that."

He regarded her soberly before leaning back into his seat. He averted his eyes with a faintly embarrassed air. "Anyway. Yeah. I think I'd enjoy it too. I don't know if that's the right word, but I'd appreciate it anyway. Maybe someday it'll happen. Probably not anytime soon, but since it looks like we're here to stay for a while, well… I suppose it can't hurt to entertain the notion now and then. Until then, there's Miko and her guitar."

And the air base, although Max was not about to mention that aloud. He nodded to the gathering of cars in the distance. "That bridge pullout. Do we cross it at all to get where we're going? I'd like to go walk out on it if we can."

At his sober look, she nodded once, a quick bob of her head. She agreed, wholeheartedly. Much better to be just upfront. She preferred mechs with obvious body language; who told who they were with words so much as stance. Pyrotech was not like that. At all. She'd learned that he could be totally focused and still and then lash out before you even knew it was coming. He was a master at hiding his thoughts.

"I'd rather just have folks be upfront, to be honest. Even if they want to kill me. I can get that and react to it fine. I'm terrible though at all the nuances of politics, ugh, and that's going on all the time. I respect folks who can understand it though."

When he glanced away she immediately looked back out the front window and gave him that space to recover. However she couldn't help but laugh at his mention of Miko. "Well, she's a good place to start. Maybe she can teach you some power chords."

The idea of him playing a guitar was just funny. Who knew, maybe he'd like it. Things like that often caught you out of nowhere and suprised you.

"No, we don't," she told him. "Well we don't cross the bridge on the way in. That was that exit back a ways I think. I know the bridge goes across the state border. We could stop though, absolutely, I'd love to- er, I think I'd love to - well, maybe, it's awful high up. But I'd sure like the hike up! It's a bit of a walk though. Want to do it on the way back out? That way we can get to the bridge and out of there before the afternoon crowds come."

Only then did Max remember her fear of heights. He flashed her a brief amused look but did not comment on it. She did sound game to take the hike all the way up to the bridge, and he could appreciate the gesture.

"Let's do it, then," he said. "On the way back out, I mean. It would be better to avoid the afternoon crowds. Not that they concern me all that much, but it'd be better to see the view without a group of people in the way."

It was easier to enjoy a view alone as well. He'd grown to learn that. "Speaking of people… do they charge admission to see the dam? It just occurred to me that I'm without funds. No human money. How do you get in?"

"Done deal," Dart agreed, as she swept by the rutted dirt road that led to the pullout parking lot.

It was out of her mouth before she thought about it. The hike did look fun and she was always up for anything that she could trot up. Then she thought about the fact that bridge was really high up there. Really high. She'd seen pictures.

Oh boy. This might not go well. Well, if worst came down to worst she could step onto it and then spend the rest of the time with her avatar hugging the nearest informational sign while a Trans Am splayed flat in the parking lot. Yeah, how would you explain that, except to say she was a Pontiac skin rug.

"Oh. I've got money, it's okay," she told him, gesturing to the back seat area. "I checked online. It's seven dollars to park. I have more than enough. Kinda put some aside for this. The dam is free, but if we wanted to do the visitors center, it was fifteen a person."

A sigh and her shoulders slumped a tiny bit. "I don't think I have enough for that though," Dart admitted. "Down payment on repairing that guitar was a bit of a sticker shock. Plus I bought books after that. I admit it. I kinda splurged at the bookstore."

A whole five dollars. Well, nine with a muffin and coffee. Yay for used bookstores.

[Dart]

That was a bit of a relief. Max had no idea what to do about money. He was hardly getting paid at Black Rock.

He laid his hand on the dash and braced himself as they drove. Although that raised the question: just how had the courier come by the money herself? She had to have earned it as a human avatar, though how she had managed that mystified him. Holding a job as a holo-avatar couldn't be an easy thing, though if any one among them could pass as a human, it would be Dart.

"Thank you," he said solemnly. "It didn't even occur to me until now that we might need money to see certain features of the dam. It's not something I've thought about that often. I appreciate it. How did you save the money?"

"Aw, you're welcome. It's okay. I figured you wouldn't have money, and I invited you, so my treat. Not many of us really use it, why would we?"

This was the truth. Very few of them used it. She'd met a few who understood it and knew it, but really, most of them never had to even think about it.

"All those pop cans for starters,"she replied, motioning to the back seat where the plastic bag still sat, tied off. "I can sniff them out and the avatar makes it easy to pick them up. That and people drop change and and things all over the place. It just gets lost. Like the pin I gave you.

Human scent sticks to stuff - especially States money. It's got cloth fibers. Roadsides, you find a lot of money, weirdly so. I've found wallets and stuff, people leave them on their cars. I try to get them back now. I didn't realize that if you drop them in public mailboxes, they try and track down the owners. Unfortunately, sometimes there's no identification."

"Plus, hey, I find things that are neat out there in the woods."

She chuckled. "Found a mattress out there once. With pillows and blankets and everything. Like - way in the middle of nowhere. I still can't figure out how they hiked it that far back. Was like a full-sized mattress too. Not even a twin."

Max did a double take at the backseat. He had noticed the books, but had overlooked the plastic bag.

"I wonder what the humans were doing all the way out in the woods with a mattress," he said. "That's strange. I suppose they had their reason for being out there. I wouldn't have guessed you would find things out in the middle of a forest like that. Human things, I mean."

He shook his head a little and settled back into the seat. "I can understand the change. So those cans are worth something to the humans? I suppose they reuse the metals again for other products. That would make sense. I see them thrown on the side of the road, in ditches. That's clever, collecting them. Is that how you found that pin?"

Max regarded her curiously. He still had the pin, carefully tucked away.

"I have my suspicions,"Dart replied. She did. About the mattress anyway. Humans were weird sometimes. Dedicated certainly to their private moments, she had to give them that.

Not that she faulted them. Private moments were private and all that. "They probably had a good reason. Stargazing or something."Sure. She'd go with that, just because uh, sure, they'd talked a lot about all sorts of odd things but Dart thought an explanation on that might just tip into rather uncomfortable country. Why yes, I do know a bit about the mating habits of the Pacific Coast Human, was just not a conversation she really felt Maximus wanted to hear. Heck, it wasn't a conversation she even knew where to begin on, thank you.

"In Oregon,"she replied quickly. "They're worth money in Oregon. Only Oregon cans though. You have to look for the stamp on the top. They're not worth too much, only five cents. But it adds up..."

"The pin? No. Kinda, but not the same way. I mean, it wasn't random like cans or the mattress. Actually, not much I've come across in the backcountry is as random as that mattress. Er, I remembered the place they were digging years ago, so I was just sort of poking around when I found it. The pin, I mean."

Max frowned. Oregon cans being worth money only in Oregon didn't make sense to him, but he also saw no reason to expect he knew better than courier about these sorts of human things.

Now, the pin…

"You found a pin that small in a dig site?" he said, startled. He stared at her. "It must have sat there for a long time if the original dig took place years ago. Was it buried at all? If you could smell that out and uncover it, that's impressive. I would have thought you'd found it in a shop or collection. It's a good pin."

"Yeah," she replied. "Copper smells very specific,"she told him. "It was buried but there's no copper out there, so it was just - kind of out of place. I just remembered seeing them there, before we left for Australia."

She sighed, and eyed the road in front of them. "I liked listening to him. Good professor. Learned a lot."

"All about rocks,"Dart chuckled. "Just a lot of rocks, I guess. Came in handy, though, at least I could sound like I knew something back in the Canyon. I was afraid they'd ask me some question though and I'd be totally caught out."

Max recalled the people they had encountered in the Canyon. The courier had convinced them they were geologists.

"I remember that," he said. "You sounded convincing about the subject. I'm not surprised they accepted what you told them about us without question."

A lot of the trip down the Canyon was hazy to him, but a few parts stood out clearly in his memory. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Those humans were satisfied with your explanation, anyway. Didn't you tell them I was a professor? Were you thinking of this other professor at the time?"

He gave her an amused glance at that.

"Yup,"she admitted. "I totally was. You reminded me of him a little."

Her fingers shifted on the wheel. "Not the whole giant robot tank Autobot part," Dart laughed. "The other part. He could make those students jump with just a look. Like someone would start goofing off, and he'd walk by and there'd be this... look."

The courier did her best to imitate that look. That one where you did that rather quiet, level stare. The one that all students dread, because it usually comes with, "and now, you'll be writing a ten thousand word essay on the strata surrounding Fern Lake and have it on the desk in the morning before I even get my coffee."

"He was quiet too. Super thoughtful. Formal, even. Believed in- I dunno, teachers and students, rank and file. Until you found what he liked to talk about, and then- he was just amazing to listen to."

"I enjoyed it anyway," she chuckled. "But I was never going to have to write a paper."

Then she inclined her head. "Check it out, what's coming up on the left hand side. It's one of the main transfer stations, super close now."

"Those things are huge," Dart murmured. "Wow. I have no idea how much power they run through them. A lot, I guess."

For a moment Max sat in silence. He was a little taken aback by her answer. Maybe it was the look she had given him. Or maybe it was the fact that she had summed him up rather neatly, just by describing the unknown professor. Had she pegged him that easily? Perhaps he wasn't surprised if she had.

He recovered, and looked out the window at the transfer station she was nodding at.

"That's a lot of transformers," he murmured. He turned to look at them as they drove past. Steel and wire gleamed beneath the sun, organized rows of it. He could all but hear the hum of electricity in the air. "It'd have to be a lot of power. It's a big station. I suppose they need to convert whatever power comes from the dam before it gets distributed. That's my guess anyway. I'll admit that electrical engineering is not a subject I know a lot about."

He pointed to it with his thumb. "Are there more of them than just that?"

A nod. "Yes, I think there's like - two or three more. Not sure. There might be more, but I don't think they're close to the roadside like this one is." She tilted her head, a look of awe in her avatar's bright blue eyes. "It's huge though. Google maps didn't show how -big- it was, I guess."

"I don't know anything about it," Dart offered. "I know some pipeline stuff, but that's because I was around it for a while. This though, I've seen other dams. I've stood on some, too. Er, in Australia. No one was around. But nothing like that."

"Yeah, it's different than building engineering, right?"

Dart was pretty sure it was. Building a wall was not like building something like this. As they drove past it, it loomed. Her intakes huffed; as if she was smelling something that she couldn't place, and then the road went sharply downwards. It narrowed abruptly. Old stone walls were built on Max's side of things- they were high but certainly not as high as one might have expected. Especially when a human could climb over it only to meet an abrupt dropoff. A very, very high one.


As they eased into the corner - the signs said the limit was 25 and with apparently very good reason, Maximus would be able to see something at a totally different angle. The enormous foundation of that bridge that spanned across the canyon; the one that they'd agreed to visit on the way back. You couldn't see it from the road until now.

It was a massive thing. Maybe not to a Cybertronian, but certainly here on Earth.

They did pass a sign though, warning people not to get out of their cars or climb on the wall. Probably very good advice. 

"Very different," said Max.

He spoke absently, his attention fixed on the scenery outside. The road had become quite winding, and he swayed with the motion of the car. Outside the stone walls were intimidating, although their purpose was obvious to him. Anyone who tried to park their car on the side of the road to take a picture of the drop on the other side would surely be putting themselves in danger if the walls weren't there.

He stared at the bridge as they drew near it. It was odd to think of something like this as large. Were he really here - as a robot, not an avatar - it would be much less imposing. But now, with this different human perspective, it seemed to loom over them both, huge and solid. The dam was somewhere beneath it. The view from the span of that bridge had to be spectacular.

"That's - impressive," he managed to say. His gaze remained pinned. "It's big. Bigger up close. Bigger than I thought it was going to be. How deep a drop is it from the top of that bridge?"

Dart glanced off the road just long enough to stare upward.

"A long way," she squeaked.

The courier's avatar seemed a bit pale. Must have been the angle of the sunlight. The car underneath them made a rather low gurgling noise as if there was water in the radiator boiling. "A really, really, really long way. I dunno."

Chewing her lip, it took Dart a moment before she shook herself and focused on the road again. She had slowed down to match the car in front of them and was practically creeping around the corner. "A mile maybe?"

It was safe to say she was not a good judge of heights.

Max nodded absently. A mile sounded very far down. But he had heard that the dam itself was massive.

Then his brain caught up to his ears. He glanced over sharply at the courier. It might have been his imagination, but her human avatar looked a little pale and unea-oh. The reason why clicked, and he felt like an idiot.

"Oh," he said. He slowly leaned back in his seat again. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I forgot. Heights, right? Sorry, I didn't think about that."

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "A mile, huh? That's a long way down to the river. I didn't know it was that big. Well. At least we won't be standing at the top of it looking down. And the guard wall here looks - secure. Yeah. Sturdy. It's not like we're at risk of falling any time soon."

Max paused. "Actually, our avatars wouldn't take damage even if we did fall from that height. Huh. Never thought of that."

"Oh, it's- um, it's okay, it's just a long, long way down," Dart admitted, keeping her eyes bravely focused forward. Because that's how you did these things, you thanked your lucky stars that you were a low riding sports car. Close to the road. "It didn't seem so bad from the other angle and uh... yeah, um, that's the bridge with the walkway. That we passed earlier."

"It didn't seem so high from the other side,"she offered. "The walking up side. S'okay. If I look out on it and I can't do it, I'll just-- let you walk out to the middle and I will simply hug the nearest signpost until you get back---"

A blink. "Wait, what? We wouldn't. We have to take damage like that, wouldn't we? Like... why not?"

"I can't believe I'm asking that, "she mumbled. "But now I have to know why."

"Wait, how do you know? Did you try it?"

Max shook his head.

"No, I haven't tried it," he admitted. "But the avatars themselves are simply hard-light projections. The holo generator can be damaged, yeah, but the projections can't be."

Ge held up one hand, hesitated, then thought better of it. "Well, maybe I can't demonstrate it here. The avatars can show damage and reflect it, but not actually sustain it. I suppose if you were to put one through duress - like if you jumped it off the bridge - it would possibly dissolve upon impact with the water. But you could re-project it if you needed to. Theoretically. Like I said, I haven't tried it myself."

Max frowned thoughtfully. His avatar in the Canyon had reflected his own real damage state, now that he thought about it. Huh.

Dart tilted her chin. She stopped chewing her lip and fidgeting in her seat and looked at him. "Keep seat-belted in the vehicle at all times," she chuckled, a little of her humor sneaking back in now that she had something else to focus on. Besides that really big bridge way up there. "Huh. Like- like Inception or something. Kinda. Not really. I never- huh. So they just project our injuries but- aren't actually injured, wow. But what about..."

She trailed off and then tapped her head lightly with a finger. "What about here. Like they said if you got killed in your avatar, there was a good chance of backlash and you'd be down, right?"

"So- you'd just have to time it really, really well," she said. "Not to let your avatar hit?"

Max's frown deepened.

"I've never thought of it," he said. "I haven't used the avatar enough to test what the backlash might be like. I suppose it's possible that a bad stress or shock like that could reverse along the neural net and impact higher brain module functions in a harmful way. I've never damaged my avatar badly enough to experience even a mild form of it. Hm."

He thought about it, absent-mindedly. "Hm. I wonder if a more advanced holo generator would have buffers installed for anything like that. I'm afraid I can't answer your question, not properly. I should ask someone with more knowledge about the subject sometime. Or else a medic. It would - probably be wise to be cautious in the meantime."

Dart listened to every word. It made sense. She'd been warned not to do anything like that when it had been first installed, and she'd taken it very seriously. To her it made sense it would mess up your mind; after all, it was your mind, just in two places at once. Like - like it had to be connected, and in which case it was a danger if it suddenly snapped.

Her avatar wasn't advanced- and she certainly couldn't control it with the power Maximus was mentioning it perhaps being capable of. She had one holo, the one she wore. It was a good one, and she was getting better at thinking of clothes and things like that, but... it was just one. Like his, nothing fancy, nothing amazing. One avatar, and that was perfectly fine with her.

"I'd like to know," she said finally. "Trust me though, I'm way cautious. I'm sure your medic would know. He's probably installed a lot of them."

She tapped the brake- traffic had slowed down suddenly in front of them to a soft crawl. Through the car's windshield, they would see that the road in front of was now a gentle curve that led right down to Hoover Dam.

Off to the left loomed a structure that was built into the stone; the parking garage the courier had mentioned. A low stone wall along Max's side of the car was now built from actual old quarried stones; most were bigger than his avatar's head, some were around the size of his torso. Tan mortar held them together. It was very different than just the bare, buff colored concrete that had protected them from the edge most of the way down.

The gridded power towers were everywhere. Long thick cables stretched across the red rock. In front of them was a gold-windowed building, reflecting the bright blue sky, and...


There were people. Everywhere. Tourists, wearing short-sleeved shirts and shorts in the morning, cameras banging against their chests. It was a steady stream of color and motion, and it moved up both sides of the dam and all over the pavilion that Max could just see the corner of.

There was the click of the courier's blinker as she finally got to the point where she could pull off up the ramp and into the parking garage.

Ratchet probably had. If any of them had experience in the matter, Max trusted it would be the old medic.

His attention was distracted by the tap on the brakes. He lurched, then peered out through the windshield in puzzlement. It was easy to see what they had arrived at. It would be hard to miss it; the parking garage was a striking bit of construction tucked in between the rock walls of the canyon. Everywhere he looked he saw a hydro tower, some of them even jutting at odd angles from the rock. And around the garage: tourists, of all sorts and sizes, in summer clothes and cameras. Even at that time of day the crowds were modest in size.

Max stared openly as they pulled up to the lot. He twisted to take it all in and self-consciously reached for his seat belt. It seemed like they had arrived at their destination.

"Are we here?" he said uncertainly. "This parking lot is remarkable. They've built it right into the rock. Good design. What is that?"

He pointed to the glimpse of the pavilion in the near distance.

"Yeah,"Dart answered. "They did, wow. Is that because it would have been more work to blast it completely flat?"She was eyeing it. Architecture was not her thing not in the slightest, but his honest assessment of the human structure made her smile. Remarkable. She agreed wholeheartedly, this whole area was remarkable for the age and the sheer amount of work involved by humans.

Her avatar was shifting her weight in the chair, foot lightly on the brake as if it really mattered. The cars had slowed down; in front of them was a shadowed ramp that turned sharply into the red concrete garage. 

The courier glanced over to where he was pointing. Her intakes whuffled as if she was trying to scent it first, understand it through smell. There was a soft huff of air as her tires twisted under her. "I don't know," the courier offered. "It's big though. Main building? Museum?"

A sigh. "I wish I had more money, I totally would have taken us to the museum." Underneath them the big car crept forward up the line and the shadows suddenly darkened the whole cab, warm and dark. It was hot though, and a bit stuffy. In front of them a big SUV's tires squealed on the slick concrete, completely by accident as they lurched forward on the ramp. Dart stayed way back; she'd been nearly rolled into a few times over the years by other drivers and respected the car length space rule.

In front of them was a roped off area, and a woman dressed in a day glo yellow vest. As each car rolled up, she collected the money and then waved them up the ramp.

Dart hesitated and then twisted in her seat. She attempted to grab something behind her, ungracefully groping down on the floorboards. Of course right then the cars moved forward and she had to creep up. "Um... could you grab my purse?" she asked him. "I think I tossed it in the back and it might be under my seat. I can't get the strap."

A museum did sound interesting. But Max did understand the limitations that the cost of admission would place upon them.

A click undid his belt. Absently he pulled it off his shoulder as he looked up at the parking garage. It was airy and bright, until they rolled up the ramp and inside the main parking space. He could register the increase in heat even as an avatar, which was interesting. More interesting was the odd roped off area that they were approaching, and the woman watching over it.

He studied her vest and watched as she took a fee from the cars in line ahead of them. "I suppose that's where we pay. Your purse?"

Max stared at her blankly for a moment until it clicked. "Oh. Yes, that thing you carry over your shoulder. Hang on, I'll look."

It was a bit of an awkward motion, but he turned in his seat and peered behind the driver's seat. "It's on the floor, you think?"

"Yes sir,"Dart replied automatically, before she caught herself. "I mean, yeah, I tossed it back there when I was cleaning off the seat."

True to her words, he would spy at least something that looked like a little black strap on the floor next to that book on Paleontology. During the ride across the desert, all of her books had slid onto the floorboards and off the back seat. Trans Am's were not meant as offroad vehicles, no matter what movies told you with clever camera angles.

Dart rested her hands back on the wheel as the car in front of them moved up the line. Then she glanced over at him. "Okay, I have to ask..."

"I just realized- so sorry- that uh, you might not know what that was," she chuckled. "I just assumed you would, you're so observant, but - um, where does a guy like you know about women's purses?"

"Er," said Max.

There was the bag, lying on the floor amidst a handful of books. He hesitated, then reached down and groped for the strap. The angle was awkward, but he managed to catch it and drag the whole thing into the front seat, where he set it on his lap.

"Well," he said. How to explain this. He drummed his fingers against the purse. "I know a human woman. Just the one. She carries a bag - a purse - with her, inside which she keeps valuable items such as money, among other things. She gets concerned whenever she misplaces it."

To be fair, June worked at a hospital. She had to carry important items inside it.

Dart cocked her head. As he set the purse on his lap, she eyed the fact that his avatar's hands, scarred and tanned were resting on that little strappy black purse. It was a bit worn; scuffed in the corners, and one of the straps was rubbed bare in spots as if it had been used quite a bit.

"Oh, that makes sense," she nodded. "That's exactly how it goes, yeah. Men worry about their wallets and phones, women carry around a whole mess of stuff all the time, but it's important, and no, you don't want to misplace a purse."

Her hand went to her hip, and then she looked at him with a lopsided grin. "I keep doing it though, I'm so used to the panniers, I guess. I forget it's not attached."

A pause, then she smiled. "I thought it might have been from Miko. I guess she's not the purse sort. Can you grab my wallet?"

Dart asked, even as she went to roll down her window. The car in front of them was stopping at the woman, who was taking their money. There was a signboard in brown and white that declared parking costs and the rules of the garage. No firearms. No animals in the car. "It's in there. It's- uh, it's the thing with the cat on it."

Max was a tall, gruff looking man as well. Now he held the purse on his lap as if it were made of glass.

"Wallets," he said, before his brain made the connection. "Oh, yeah. I've seen them. Carriers for money. And cell phones, I've seen those too. Everyone has a communicator, it seems. Even Miko."

The children certainly did. Miko seemed to love her own phone. The photos she had taken of her Cybertronian friends would give Agent Fowler a fit, if the man knew about them. Perhaps he already did. He did look haggard often.

"Your wallet." Max obediently studied the purse to determine how it opened, and rummaged inside once he figured it out. "It has a... cat on it. A cat? Okay. Searching. Oh. Yes. What sort of things do you carry in here?"

Well, the wallet wasn't hard to find. At least it was the only thing that could remotely be a wallet. And there was a cat on it, the same cheerful cute cartoon kitty that was on the bandaid on her knee. It was an adorable, girly hot pink; a zip-up wallet. The gold zipper was tarnished and worn. So were the edges of the wallet, rubbed to the dull grey that fake leather turned into after a while.

He would sort through loose change (several pennies, quarters, and even a gold colored dollar coin) a handful of register receipts- more than one Shorey's books in Portland Oregon, a Starbucks card, and weirdly, a little metal cylinder that strangely sloshed a little bit when he moved it. Silver gel pen and also a blue one. A postcard that she'd started to write on but hadn't finished; the picture on the front was downtown Portland from the air - he could see that it was addressed to Sarah, but couldn't make out the last name at the angle it was at.

"Um, this and that," she said. "It works when I go in places. No pockets that work in the avatar..."

Well, she wasn't kidding. There really was a cat.

Max gingerly picked out the wallet and turned it back and forth in his hand. It was very pink, but it looked worn. He wondered where she had found it.

The rest of the purse's contents were more obscure to him; he recognised the change, though the receipts were mystifying. One was from a book store. Starbucks… that was a name he recognised from discarded coffee cups. He started at the sight of the gel pens. Those he had seen before, elsewhere.

He twisted his head to examine the postcard, then belatedly realised that was rude. Instead he carefully shut the purse.

"Found it," he said. "You were right about the cat. It's… cute. Good idea to carry this purse. You're right. Pockets don't work with avatars. Well, not permanently, anyway."

"Thank you," the courier said and reached a hand over politely to get it from him just as the car in front of them finished paying. Surprisingly, it was these moments that always made her most nervous; handing or giving anything sometimes caused the avatar to decide to glitch and drop things. So far she'd been okay. The closest she'd come lately to making a total twit out of herself was maybe with the nice man in the wheelchair at the bookstore. Or maybe that was his friend who had been busy making them both feel awkward, who knew.

"I can't get them to work very well regardless,"she admitted. "I didn't think they were supposed to. Maybe I'm just doing it wrong, there's a lot about avatars I don't know."

The Trans Am pulled up politely alongside the woman in the bright vest. "Seven dollars," the middle aged woman droned, with that bored air of a person who'd been doing the same job day in and day out in this sort of heat for a very long time.

Dart fiddled open the wallet, and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Thank you," she nodded politely.

"No pets in the car?" the woman asked, peering in at them through the open window.

"No ma'am," Dart replied, and the woman took her money.

Quickly she counted back out the change in rumpled bills and the courier reached for them with a tiny bit of trepidation. The avatar didn't blink or flicker though as she held onto them, and then she dropped it quickly into her lap before setting her hand back on the wheel. "Lock up, we're not responsible for any valuables on site. Garage closes at 5."

"Thank you,"the courier said with a smile. A glance over at Max, and then she couldn't help but grin as she carefully pulled away and headed up the tight ramp into the parking garage. It was a bit awkward; her vehicle mode had a long nose, and the curves were far, far tighter than she might have expected. But if an SUV could get up here (and there were lots of them parked) so could she.

They had to go for four floors before they found some empty spaces; Dart finally made a quick left and gently nudged into a space between a rented sedan with a California plate and a larger truck. Her intakes did an automatic quick sniff; just checking to make sure there was no smell of Cybertronian here. Not that she expected it, but she was always wary. Once they had parked though, her engine rumbled softly into silence, and then the only noise from the big car was the tick-tick-tick of her cooling systems trying to keep up with the heat.

Quickly, she stuffed her wallet back into the little purse. "Ready?"she asked him, even as she reached for her seatbelt before she remembered- yes, you can open it with a thought, Dart. Oops. No pushing needed. Click.

Max resisted the urge to tighten his hands over the purse as the woman leaned in and spoke. Humans still made him uncomfortable in his own borrowed skin, so to speak. He said nothing as Dart negotiated the admission. She seemed to have everything well in hand anyway. A part of him envied her easy confidence with humans.

The human woman was all business too, but friendly. He nodded when she finished her summary and gave a straight-faced wave as they drove away.

"That was straightforward enough," he declared. Satisfied, he settled back into his seat with a glance at the truck. "You handled that well. That woman seemed well trained in her duties. Does this mean we have been admitted onto the site?"

"Yep, we're clear," she said, even as she reached for her door. It swung wide, and she had to scramble to to stop it from hitting the car next to her, whew. "All clear, and we're - I guess we're free to just- be tourists."The thought obviously thrilled her even as the car gave a long sigh of relief and settled down over all four tires. Her mirrors twitched back, then forward, then back again to focus on him as she sniffed at the ground underneath her. Old oil. Cars. So much human scent it was nearly overwhelming in the confines of the garage.

Dart slid out of her seat and stood back up. Hot air was blowing through the garage, funneled by the high stone crops on either side. It was hot enough in here that the concrete gave off wavers of heat. People's voices bounced around; in front of them other tourists were getting out of their cars and following the signs to the walkway to the elevator. 

One of the young men who had just gotten out of his truck parked a few spaces up was throwing a water bottle up into the air, laughing at his friend as he tried to get it back. Another family hovered by the trunk of their rented van, kids all standing in a line from youngest to oldest as the parents wrestled with a stroller. The littlest girl had a juice box that was dribbling on the pavement; the drops of liquid didn't even stay for more than a second before they evaporated.

Dart was smoothing out the edges of her t-shirt, as if she was brushing dirt off. Or maybe she was just nervous and finding something to do with her hands. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other; yes, nervous, but- honestly excited. They were here. At the dam. Parked in a parking garage, paid for, even, not even one of those places she'd snuck to keep the rain off during long Portland nights. The sun blazing outside the darkened pillars reflected off the sheer walls of stone, and she couldn't help but gawk a bit at the people.


It took Max a moment to figure out how to open the passenger door, though he had the impression that Dart would have done it anyway had he hesitated. It was even warmer outside the car; he could all but see the waves of heat in the air. It would be even hotter under the sun.

He climbed out and stood, his hand on the door. Absently he swung it shut as he looked around himself. Other humans were getting out of their vehicles too in readiness for a day of exploring the day. He frowned at the family with the stroller until he identified what the object was. The presence of another child with them made it easier.

Max slowly turned in place.

"Lots of people here," he remarked. He watched the young men joke with the water bottle. "Where do we go from here? I see there's an elevator."

He pointed to the walkway. "Do we need to follow those signs?"

The courier was busy  looking here and there, taking it all in. Different angle, from down here - well, not that being a car wasn't a low angle. As a human though, everything felt huge, massive, even the parking facility seemed gigantic. It was one of those odd things of switching your senses mostly to the avatar. Line of sight changed, what was merely a hop as a robot became a hard climb on tiny little legs. Not that the avatar got tired- it was more that you got mentally tired because you had to make sure that you didn't mess it up, forget, wink in and out of existence to get to somewhere else. Strangely it was a lot of work.

The moment he spoke, she immediately swung her head and aligned her nose on where his hand was pointing. The car sniffed - a whuffle of warm air against the smooth floor of the garage - but so did the girl, echoing the reaction of her mechanical self.

Then she realized she'd forgotten to open the door for him. The car twisted a tire in a tiny, pawing gesture of apology- but focusing on the signs overhead distracted her once again. "Yeah, I think so," she replied. "That's the way everyone else appears to be going."

Her shoulders straightened, and with an obviously practiced gesture she slid her purse over her shoulder. The little bag banged against her hip, her fingers slid down to curl over it, as if she might need to catch it. Her thumb flicked at the little latch as she eyed the people; shorts and t-shirts and light clothes, lots of sunglasses. Well that certainly wasn't going to happen; the sunglasses bit anyway. Well, or the shorts bit, she had enough to concentrate on right now. She'd have to try that later so that in case she messed up that she wasn't standing there with no pants or something. So not good for public places. Well, maybe certain beaches in Oregon.

"Lots of people," she agreed. "Even more down below, but that's good. No one will even notice two more."

Dart stepped around the car and waited for him before she started to head towards the walkway. It was on the other side of the parking garage - straightest distance was between all the parked cars, just like all the other people were doing. Shortcutting through until they could see a ramp. It consisted of thick concrete and huge beams driven into the sheer side of the stone. Netting was strung over the rock in places; it was as heavy as chain link fence.