Designation, Seven

      Sam considered his life to be quite ordinary, and he was no different from other teenagers. He had a family, friends, school, his first tentative dreams, low self-esteem, and unrequited love for a popular girl. He was unlucky in sports and the sciences, although the humanities came easily to him. His family was also ordinary, with its own rules and history. Therefore, Sam believed that the future would be just as mediocre: he would finish school, go to college, and then graduate, find a job, probably even in his field. Somewhere between these points, he would meet a girl, start a family, and be happy in his small, cozy world. Perhaps this was not what Sam dreamed of, but it was what he expected from his life.       What he definitely didn’t expect was to be attacked by a huge robot, which just seconds earlier had been a normal police car. Then he found himself drawn into a battle with aliens, appeared in his underwear in front of the girl of his dreams, and not in the situation he would have liked, and then stood surrounded by a whole team of metal aliens. At this last point, he was already wearing pants, which allowed him to retain at least a shred of dignity in front of guests from another world.       There were six of them. They pulled up in cars that gleamed in the dim light of the street lamps. Sam had already seen his old yellow Camaro transform into a giant combat robot; a second, apparently more evil one, attacked him; and meanwhile, a small imp, as if he escaped from Hell, tried to cut Witwicky to pieces. At least that’s how it seemed to the guy, considering that up to that point, all the aliens he had encountered, except for the Chevrolet, wanted to get their hands on him. The ladies' man was in high demand, and he would have even been happy with this turn of events if it weren’t for the huge combat robots. And even in a sense, knowing what to expect, the teenager still stood with his mouth open in surprise and watched as the cars slowly turned into humanoid creatures. “Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendant of Archibald Witwicky?” said one of the strangers, coming up alongside the teenager.       The red-blue robot was larger than the others, taller, and, despite the absence of visible weapons, looked more powerful. His transformation from a truck was slow and smooth, without any sudden movements. He seemed afraid of frightening people and therefore tried to look as unthreatening as possible. He was the first to speak and the only one who lowered himself to the height of his interlocutors to do so. “Yeah,” Witwicky replied belatedly, looking with interest at the metallic face in front of him. “My name is Optimus Prime”, continued the alien. “We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron.” “But you can call us Autobots for short,” said another robot. “What’s cracking, little bitches?” was heard from behind, and the teenagers turned around at the new voice.       A gray Autobot appeared before them. He was the smallest among his comrades, showing off and twirling around, displaying himself in all his glory. He was also the only one who had cross-shaped claws instead of five fingers on his hands. He was introduced as Jazz, the first lieutenant of Autobot commander Optimus Prime. “This looks like a cool place to kick it!” Jazz made another feint and jumped onto a rusty car standing nearby. “How did he learn to talk like that?” Sam asked.       The realization that these Autobots, apparently, were not going to harm him was somewhat reassuring. Although a nervous smile kept appearing on the young man’s face and his palms continued to sweat, his fear gradually subsided, giving way to genuine curiosity. “We’ve learned Earth’s languages through the World Wide Web,” answered Prime.       Witwicky was distracted by the commander for just a second, and then there was a grinding sound from Jazz’s side, followed by a thud. Next to the lieutenant was a second robot, noticeably different from the others. It was a little shorter than Prime, with two movable wings visible behind its back, and unlike the other Autobots, who had blue eyes, its optics glowed bright purple. The black armor was not as angular as the others, and Sam assumed from the softness of its forms that this robot was a woman. A woman who easily lifted the car, causing Jazz to roll to the ground with a crash and a curse. “You did it!” exclaimed the lieutenant indignantly.       The woman innocently raised her hands, showing that she had nothing to do with it, but as soon as Jazz turned away, a sly smile spread across her face. “This is Eda, our pilot,” Optimus introduced her. “A pilot with wings, and you turn into a car?” Sam blurted out, unable to stop himself; with adrenaline rushing through his veins, his tongue worked faster than his brain. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t find a fighter jet in the city center,” said Eda, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned her shoulder against the building.       Meanwhile, Optimus continued his introduction and waved his hand toward the third Autobot: “My weapons specialist, Ironhide.”       The robot in black armor was large, though much shorter than Optimus and Eda. His impressive size was not due to his height, but rather to the variety of weapons visible all over his body, ranging from small grenades to large cannons on his arms. Sam found him to be gloomy and menacing, and the scar on his face only reinforced that impression. The Autobot menacingly swung his cannons and pointed them at the teenagers: “You feeling lucky, punk?”              Witwicky felt a certain weakness in his body, a fear bordering on horror at the sight of a large-caliber weapon being loaded at his face. However, Ironhide quickly softened, looked at the people good-naturedly, and, satisfied with the effect he had produced, put the weapon away: “Just kidding. I just wanted to show him my cannons.”       Sam sighed in relief, noticed a hint of childlike joy in the bass voice, and turned his gaze to the next robot, whom Optimus had already introduced as Ratchet, the medical officer. The medic had a yellow and black body because of his alternative form as a rescue vehicle, which perfectly reflected the skills of this particular Autobot. Sam didn’t see any weapons on him, although he had no doubts that he had some, and as soon as Ratchet spoke, the boy guessed at his straightforwardness: “The boy’s pheromone level suggests he wants to mate with the female.”       Witwicky summoned all his composure to ignore the awkward silence that hung in the air, Mikaela’s embarrassed cough, and Eda’s astonished exclamation of genuine amusement. Optimus saved him from the uncomfortable silence by waving his hand toward the yellow robot, introducing the last member of his team: “You already know your guardian, Bumblebee.”       Despite the spectrum of the alien team, Sam was most excited to meet Bumblebee. Now his manipulations with the radio in Mikaela’s presence became clear, as did the trick with the explosion of glass in the parking lot of a strange car dealer, his escape from home, followed by an equally magical return, and rescue from angry dogs and a vicious robot cop. Witwicky found it strange that, unlike his comrades, Bumblebee only spoke in isolated phrases over the radio, but everything fell into place when Ratchet reported that the scout’s voice processor was broken.       Sam was so engrossed in examining the Autobots that he missed Mikaela’s question. He only came to his senses when Optimus Prime began his story about the Allspark lost among the stars, Megatron, and his betrayal. The ground beneath the teenagers opened up, causing them to recoil in fear. And although it was just a projection created by the leader of the Autobots, it looked so real that it made Sam’s heart sink into his stomach. Prime’s words reached him as if through a veil, and the boy struggled to process the new information. The story mentioned the familiar name of his great-grandfather, which snapped him out of his trance. A brief smile of pride flashed across his face. So Archibald Witwicky wasn’t just an old man who had gone mad with strange hieroglyphics at the end of his life? Instead, he turned out to be not just a pioneer of new lands, but the first human to find an alien race on their small, distant planet. He left Sam not only his well-worn glasses and maps, but also a chance, allowing his great-grandson to become part of something so important.       Prime’s story ended with a request that Witwicky couldn’t ignore. The Autobots needed a little help; they wanted to get great-grandfather’s glasses, which had a map of Allspark’s location on Earth imprinted on them. Not only does the success of the aliens' mission depend on this, but also, possibly, the future of the entire human race. The Autobots feared that their old enemies, the Decepticons, could use the Allspark to transform Earth’s technology to create a new army and ultimately enslave humanity. With so much at stake, how could Sam refuse? “Please, tell me that you have those glasses,” Mikaela appealed to him. “Yes, they should be at home. I can bring them, easily, yes, definitely.” “We’ll go with you,” Optimus said, standing up to his full height.       Sam hesitated, unsure whether he should allow alien robots to be in proximity to his home and family, but he didn’t argue. Despite his stubbornness, he wouldn’t be able to stop them from following him anyway. He could only hope that he would give the Autobots the glasses as quickly as possible, and then they would leave him alone. One battle between two giant robots was enough for Sam to realize that he had no desire to get involved in someone else’s war. “Optimus, for a few words,” Eda suddenly said, whose existence Witwicky had forgotten about.       Except for one casual remark, she had been standing silently in the shadows of the building. Despite her restrained smile, something in the alien woman’s face made Sam think that she was not happy with the situation. “I don’t wanna argue with you,” Eda began quietly when she and Prime moved away from the team, but Optimus interrupted her wearily: “All you do is argue with me.” “That’s not true!” Eda protested, but as soon as she encountered a skeptical gaze on the face of her companion, she pursed her lips in dissatisfaction, holding back the curses that were bursting out, and humbly exhaled, “Okay, maybe. Anyway, we don’t have to go to Sam together. Let Bumblebee and me pick up the glasses, and you wait for us here.” “We shouldn’t split up, especially now.” “Optimus, we don’t know this planet or its people. Just because Earthlings are intelligent doesn’t mean they can be trusted. What if something goes wrong?” “That’s exactly why we won’t split up,” the commander replied emphatically, making it clear that the discussion was over. “Your opinion is noted, but we’ll do as I said. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”       Eda gave the Autobot a long, narrow-eyed look with her purple optics: “Just a couple of expletives directed at you.” “Just a couple? Then we’re done,” Prime said curtly, then addressed the scout more loudly: “Bumblebee, you know where to go. Lead us.”       A quarter of an hour later, six brand-new cars were already parked next to the Witwicky’s family home. Midnight was fast approaching, and Sam was on the verge of hysteria. Driven by stress, he ordered Mikaela to watch over the Autobots while he rushed off to find the glasses. Banes didn’t understand what exactly she was supposed to do, but she agreed without even thinking about the context. After all, what could such a fragile little woman do with six huge alien robots if they suddenly decided to cause trouble?       Mikaela nervously bit her thumbnail, pacing back and forth, and casting impatient glances at the house behind the fence. Her life had never been easy, but this was beyond anything she could have imagined. What was happening seemed like a crazy dream or hallucination. The girl might have really thought she was going insane if her body hadn’t been aching from bruises and contusions at this very moment, her skin hadn’t been burning from abrasions covered in sticky sweat, and her stomach hadn’t been twisting from the stress she was experiencing. Despite the surreal nature of what was happening, the sensations and pain seemed all too real.       Lost in her gloomy thoughts, Mikaela didn’t notice one of the cars start to move. The black GMC let out a puff of steam, causing the girl to flinch in surprise, and with the grinding of moving gears and shifting plates, it transformed into a winged creature. Eda folded her wings behind her back like a bird and knelt in front of the teenager, hiding from prying eyes in the shadows of the surrounding trees. “What’s your name?” The woman’s voice was soft and friendly, but that did nothing to calm Banes. “Mikaela,” the girl replied, trying to sound confident.       Although her legs were shaking and her gaze was involuntarily fixed on the robots, Banes did not allow fear to completely paralyze her mind. Unlike the police car and the little robot that had attacked them earlier, the Autobots were not so frightening. Of course, their existence itself was scary, but more like anything new and unknown, than something dangerous to life. It gave her a tingling thrill, sent a jolt through her nerves, but also made her stay alert, because no one knew what to expect from these aliens who seemed friendly at first glance. “You have a beautiful name, Mikaela,” Eda continued. “I’m sorry if we’re scaring you. You must be in shock from what’s happening?” “No, no,” Banes shook her head, trying not to sound rude, but then she thought about it and decided that a certain amount of fear in this situation would be quite natural. “Well, maybe just a little. It’s not something that happens every day.”       Mikaela turned at a strange noise, losing her train of thought, but finding no one there, she returned to her conversation partner. “Listen, no offense, but could you turn back into a car? I mean, someone might see us… Oh no, no, no, you too?!”       The girl covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle a short cry of fear as the red-blue truck standing next to her screeched and began its hasty transformation, though it still tried to be careful not to hit anyone. “He’s taking a long time,” Optimus interjected, copying his partner’s posture. “It’s only been a couple of minutes,” Eda replied calmly. “Shrink back, you’re scaring the girl.” “Bumblebee, go check it out,” Prime ordered.       The scout transformed and, signaling affirmatively, followed Witwicky. Behind him, the other Autobots returned to their usual robot forms, tired of waiting, while Mikaela could only bite her nails and hope that no one would notice their unusual company. “I suggest an assault,” Ironhide said, threateningly spinning his cannon. “It’ll be quicker.” “We don’t harm humans, Ironhide,” Optimus rejected the suggestion without hesitation, staring intently at the building decorated with flowers and lights. “I’m not suggesting harming the people. I’m suggesting harming their house.” Not believing her ears, Eda turned to the Autobot in surprise: “What? No!” “Well, maybe half of the street as well.” “We won’t destroy anyone’s house or streets!” “All right,” Ironhide lowered his guns, which had already begun to charge. “But I’m not doing this because you said so, but because I changed my mind.”       Another tense minute passed, during which Mikaela made another attempt to convince the Autobots to accept their alternate forms, but they stubbornly ignored her pleas. “Now Bumblebee is stuck there too,” sighed Prime, standing up to his full height. “I’ll go see what’s going on.” “Oh, I wanna see too!” Eda rushed after the commander, and the tips of her wings fluttered with anticipation. “No, no, no!” Mikaela hissed, trying not to get under the giants' feet. “God, can you guys just sit still for like five minutes?”       But the pleading eyes of the human did not stop the two largest aliens of their team. They carefully, trying not to make too much noise, climbed over the fence made of trees and a small adjacent building, and found themselves on a green lawn. There, they found Bumblebee hiding around the corner of the house, who, upon seeing his teammates, began to gesticulate wildly, waving his arms from side to side. Optimus and Eda stopped, synchronously bowing their heads in incomprehension. The scout waved his hand down several times, and the Autobots crouched down, following by non-verbal order. Bumblebee waved more vigorously, forcing them to crouch lower and lower until they were finally on the ground. The next wave of his hand indicated which direction they should both go. “Come with us, Eda,” a woman whispered sarcastically, crawling on her knees along the bushes. “You’ll visit other planets and encounter new life forms. And almost all of them will try to eat you! And even that doesn’t suck that much as hiding here in the bushes on our knees!” “I’m not going to apologize for that,” Prime retorted, shuffling his feet after his partner, then tugging on her wing, forcing her to stop. “Sam’s back. We can come out now.”       As soon as all the Autobots appeared on the green lawn in front of the house, Sam, like a wind-up toy, began to clutch his head in despair at the destruction that had been wrought. He ran nervously from side to side, waving his arms in frustration and hissing at the Autobot leader for destroying the fountain.       As if the teenager didn’t have enough problems with the impatient alien race, a loud bark rang out in the yard. The Chihuahua ran up to its owner, clumsily waving its injured paw, and quickly attached itself to the first object it could find for relief. Sam didn’t have time to react, Mikaela just gasped, and Ironhide was already shaking his leg in disgust. “You have a rodent infestation,” the robot growled, pointing his weapon at the dog. “Shall I terminate?”       Eda jumped out like a jack-in-the-box, pushed the militant Autobot’s guns aside, and approached the teenager with a sigh of delight: “It’s a small puppy! You, people, lo-o-ove dogs! You have so many videos and pictures with dogs, the whole internet!” The alien woman reached out her finger to the pet, but the animal bared its teeth and tried to bite the metal. “Oh, you’re so mean,” she cooed, not the least bit frightened by the sharp fangs. “May I hold it?” “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sam fussed, pressing the pet close to him. “Next time!”       Ignoring the disappointed look and faded smile on the alien’s metallic face, Witwicky rushed off to his house. The Autobots found themselves with Mikaela again, which could be considered alone, and scattered to scout the area. The street remained clear as far as the eye could see, with not even pedestrians or passing cars at such a late hour. And although this suited everyone present, it did not reassure them in the slightest.       After a minute, then two, then three, Sam still had not returned. It was hard to say who was more nervous: Witwicky, who couldn’t find his glasses in the bedlam of his room; Mikaela, who was left alone with the aliens, who completely ignored her requests not to stick their neck out; or Optimus, who wanted to get off this planet as quickly as possible and preferably do so with the Allspark in his arms. “Sam needs help,” Prime said, holding out his open palm to Mikaela, and softening when he saw the fear in her eyes. “Get on. I’ll drop you off at Sam’s room. The two of you might find the glasses faster together.”       Banes swallowed hard, staring uncertainly at the hand at her feet, but finally clenched her jaw and climbed on. The touch of alien metal against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. It was pleasantly warm, rough from millions of scratches, and slightly vibrating from the internal systems at work. Mikaela tried not to look down as Prime carried her to the window, and breathed in relief when her feet touched the wooden floor of Sam’s room.       Eda leaned conspiratorially to Ratchet and nodded toward Prime, who had his back to the team.“Is it just me, or is smoke about to come out of his ears?” “You know, I can hear you both,” Optimus replied discontentedly, moving away from the window. “She’s right,” the medic agreed. “I think it would be better if we let the boy look for his glasses in peace.”       Eda could have sworn she heard the sound of clenched jaws, but outside, Prime just sighed wearily and nodded in agreement. He transformed into a truck, stopping gloomily in the center of the yard, and everyone else followed him.              During the tense wait, Sam looked out the window only once, lamented in astonishment about the robots' inability to disguise themselves properly, and then disappeared back into his room. Less than ten minutes later, Prime’s patience cracked again, forcing him to check on the guy in the house, only to receive another dose of discontent and nitpicking. For a second, Witwicky even thought that the Autobots' leader personally had something against all the decorations around the house, considering that his feet alone had trampled a good half of the yard, crushed the fountain, the stone path, and Mrs. Witwicky’s lovingly grown flowers. “What’s the matter with you? Can you be quiet? He wants us to be quiet,” the leader said to his team, leaving the nervous teenager alone. “You’re the one making the most noise here!” Eda hissed and, backing away, bumped into Ratchet, who had unfortunately been standing in her way. She tried to grab the falling medic, but he slipped away and, trying to keep his balance, stumbled onto the power lines. The wires sparked, a loud beep sounded, and Ratchet, electrocuted, fell to the ground with a crash, knocking down the fragile gazebo and collapsing in the middle of the lawn. The street lit up for a moment, then the space was plunged into darkness, and everything around fell silent. Optimus crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his partner with silent disapproval. “Alright, that’s on me,” Eda smiled guiltily and winced as another power line behind her flashed with a shower of sparks. “Oh my God, what have you done?!” Sam leaned out of the window and looked around the ransacked yard in bewilderment. Then the boy looked back at the door, started fussing again, and the new voices were heard in the room.       His parents were dangerously close to the intruders, and Prime ordered a retreat. Bumblebee managed to slip away, but a man with a flashlight appeared at the next window, and Optimus jerked backward, bumping into Eda, who was following him. They collided and fell to the ground with a crash, knocking over another flower pot. “Autobots, hide!” Prime growled, pushing Eda’s wing away from his face and hurriedly shoving her around the corner. There wasn’t enough room for two, and there was no time to look for another hiding place — Witwicky Sr. was already appearing at the window. The Autobots barely managed to hide wherever they could: Ratchet and Ironhide disappeared around the corner, peeking out at the people with curiosity and their guns at the ready; Bumblebee climbed onto the porch, getting tangled up in the lanterns and flowers; Jazz, due to his small size, was able to hide under the balcony; Optimus had to summon all his skills to blend in with the roof of the building and avoid being seen by humans, while Eda hid around the corner, covering herself with her wings like a cocoon. “The parents are very irritating,” Ironhide growled discontentedly as Sam’s father disappeared into the house after a frustrated tirade about the ruined yard. “Can I take them out?” “Ironhide, you know we don’t harm humans,” Optimus said threateningly. “What is with you?” “Well, I’m just saying we could,” the weaponsmith said with a hint of disappointment. “It’s an option.” “Optimus, someone’s coming,” Eda stared intently at the horizon.       In the distance, flashing red and blue lights were already visible, and tires rustled on the asphalt. The commander ordered a retreat, to take the form of cars and lie low for a while. As soon as the Autobots drove away from the house, the courtyard was flooded with people in black suits and white robes. They searched the area with measuring devices in their hands, collected samples, and took photographs. Soon, the Witwicky family appeared, who were handcuffed and roughly pushed into black cars. Even the little dog was taken away, as if it were not a harmless Chihuahua, but a dangerous alien from another planet. The cars disappeared into the night as quickly as they had appeared, and the street was once again plunged into silence. “Do you think it’s because of us?” Eda said, and her voice was clearly tinged with guilt.       Autobots resumed their true forms. Ironhide, either jokingly or in all seriousness, argued with Jazz about trying to break into the house to search for the glasses; Ratchet actively agreed with his comrade on all the proposed options, which in one way or another involved explosions and destruction; Bumblebee, honking sadly, sat down on the destroyed stone path and hung his wing doors. “The Decepticons were already hunting the boy today,” Eda continued quietly, “then we destroyed his yard, and now these people have taken him away. What are the chances that if we go after him, we’ll make things even worse?”       Prime didn’t answer, continuing to stare pensively into the dark distance, although Eda knew that despite his silence, he was listening to her attentively. “But also, we can’t not to go after him,” she sighed, “because we still need those glasses. Besides, if we try to save him, someone might get hurt. I have a very bad feeling about this.” “Intuition?” Prime finally spoke. “Experience.”       Eda was the first to transform and rush after the people. The Autobots left the street one by one, and Prime, taking one last look at the house, brought up the rear.