Scene 8:

Csirac sat silently in his chamber, staring at three blank Protoforms in Stasis Pods.

“We better get started”, said a female voice. Csirac kept staring.

After a long pause, Csirac finally said “Well, I’m dead.”

“We have a lot of work to do, but you’re not dead yet”, replied the voice.

“Three bodies isn’t enough! Devastator, Superion, Menasor… All had five or more. It just doesn’t work!” Csirac got up and began to pace the room.

“It’ll need to be an intricate combination, with some creativity in its design”, the voice said, optimistically. Csirac remained silent as he paced. “Let me worry about that”, the voice said. “You should do what you’re good at.”

Csirac laughed. “At the moment, that’s passing information on to the enemy”, he said bitterly.

“How did you first identify the hole in Space-Time?” the voice asked, changing the topic. It threw Csirac, who was still stuck between combiners and court-marshalling.

“Wha… Er, Ions, charged Ions left a trail to the hole. Why?” said Csirac in his confusion.

“With a positive or negative charge?” she continued.

“What’s this got to do with…” Csirac stopped, his face fell blank with realisation. “Negative.” Csirac’s mind was now racing - could the voice actually be onto something? “By riding a wave of negatively charged ions into the hole, somehow inverting their polarity, then riding the current out, leaving a trail behind for your Spark to follow.” Csirac stared wide-eyed at the floor but not seeing it. “By Primus, that might actually work.”

“I always loved watching you work”, said the voice.

Csirac carried on thinking the problem through, oblivious to the voice. “Manipulating the ions mid-stream will be the tricky bit - and then the question of what to send through on the wave…”

“Only one thing can exist in the Allspark”, the voice said softly. “You have to come and find me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“No, this is crazy!” said Csirac, suddenly losing all positivity.

“You know it will work”, the voice pleaded.

“Theoretically, maybe. But I’ll only get one shot, and if I get it wrong my Spark could drift anywhere!”

“Then I’ll come and find you. Don’t think about the risks, start with the obvious problem: getting the ions to transition between charges.”

Csirac slumped back into the chair. A force pulled him back up to standing.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work!” the voice commanded. Venus had always had a hard edge when she needed to. It came with the job of training flight recruits. Csirac lent over the small desk in the room and began to scribble equations, unsure as to what had just pulled him up.