The Veiled Threat by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8041-8051-1
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2014-06-11T04:00:00+00:00

While Technical Sergeant Epps’s head bobbed slightly and steadily to the beat of the music that was blasting from the docked music player sitting on the shelf in front of him, it had no apparent effect on the enormous Autobot who was crouched close behind and peering over his shoulder. Like the rest of the Autobots, Ironhide had done his best to try to comprehend how humans derived pleasure from listening to the sharply modulated soundwaves generated by such devices. It sounded nothing at all like the music he enjoyed back on Cybertron. Periodic exposure had bred, if not familiarity, at least a modicum of understanding.

For him, however, it could not compete with the unleashing of a suitably devastating explosion or the pleasure to be had from admiring a weapon well designed.

The human’s passion for oddly mutating sound waves notwithstanding, Ironhide had discovered a common bond with the human named Epps. Flaunting a build similar to that of the Autobot, though on a much smaller scale and with weaponry externalized instead of integrated, Epps shared Ironhide’s fascination with advanced ordnance. The pair had spent many a pleasant hour by themselves secluded in NEST’s weapons facility discussing the efficacy of an assortment of volatile elements while debating such military arcana as line-of-sight versus guided-arc delivery. On numerous such occasions Epps had also insisted on showing off pictures of his mate and three offspring.

Leaning away from the workbench, Epps admired the short-barreled, large-magazine weapon he had been working on. “She’s finished,” he declared proudly. “What do you think? I started with a Protecta, which is an upgraded model of the old Striker Street-Sweeper, reinforced the barrel and other components, and enlarged the magazine to hold the smallest sabot rounds currently in production.”

Ironhide examined the lethal-looking device. “May I?” One immense metal hand reached forward.

“Please do. I’d be interested in your expert opinion.”

With two fingers, the Autobot carefully picked up the weapon and brought it close to his face. After a moment’s inspection, he held it alongside his right hand. A series of loud metallic clicks and whirs filled the room as the hand melded into an enormous multibarreled missile launcher. Next to it, Epps’s project was dwarfed.

“What d’you think?” The tech sergeant gazed expectantly at the Autobot weapons specialist.

What is it that Optimus keeps telling us to keep in mind when dealing with humans? Ironhide mused. Oh yes—tact and diplomacy. Unfortunately, tact and diplomacy were not among Ironhide’s specialties, his mind being more fort- than forte-oriented. His replies tended to be as straightforward and unvarying as his aim.

“Very nice toy,” he ventured hesitantly.

Extending a hand, Epps uttered a word the Autobot had not yet assimilated into his English vocabulary. “Thanks,” he muttered. “Give it back, man.”

“I am not a man. I am an Autobot. We are autonomous robotic lifeforms from the planet …” He broke off, seeing that his human friend was not listening. “Oh, I remember now. A linguistic colloquialism.”

“Yeah.” Epps clamped the weapon back onto its workstand mount. “You know what you can do with your colloquialism.

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