18_the_end_of_the_circle-第2部分

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r；〃　he　told　her。　〃No　need　for　apologies。〃

〃Besides；　Colonel；〃　Huxley　continued　after　a　deep　breath；　〃what　with　the　Council　trying　to　set　up　summits　with　our　planetside　counterparts　and　Jean's　medical　teams　doing　what　they　can　。　。　。　Well；　I'm　certain　you　do　understand；　Colonel　Bernard。〃

Scott　did　not　envy　either　group　but　thought　it　might　be　particularly　rough　going　for　the　Council　itself。　To　the　last　they　had　been　respected　members　of　the　United　Earth　Government。　But　that　was　before　the　ascendancy　of　the　Army　of　the　Southern　Cross；　the　arrival　of　the　Robotech　Masters　and　the　Invid；　and　the　factionalism　and　isolationalism　that　had　thrived　during　the　occupation。　Those　would…be　leaders　below　barely　trusted　their　neighbors；　let　alone　a　council　of　lawmakers　and　theoreticians　absent　for　fifteen　years。　Scott　was　not　sure　whether　Huxley；　Penn；　and　the　rest　had　grasped　the　fact　that　Earth　was　a　changed　world。

Scott　found　Vince　Grant　studying　him　when　he　looked　up。　〃I　know　the　promotion　might　not　seem　like　much；　Scott；　but　we　haven't　gotten　around　to　honoring　individual　effort　just　yet。〃

Scott　was　taken　aback。　〃Excuse　me；　sir；　but　if　you're　talking　about　medals　or　citations…〃

〃You've　certainly　earned　them；　Scott；〃　Jean　said　hurriedly；　glancing　up　at　Vince　before　showing　Scott　an　unfortable　look。　〃We　just　want　you　to　know…〃

Scott　held　up　his　hands　to　stop　her　from　saying　anything　further。　It　was　a　sham；　and　everyone　knew　it…or　at　least　they　should　have。　There　were　no　heroes　this　go…round；　Scott　said　to　himself；　as　he　had　so　often　the　past　three　months。　No　matter　who　had　done　what　at　Reflex　Point　or　anywhere　on　either　side　of　the　envelope。

There　were　only　survivors。


CHAPTER　TWO

There　isn't　a　man　or　woman　aboard　the　＇Ark　Angel＇　that　wasn't　thinking　about　the　SDF…1　when　Dr。　Penn　announced　our　intention　to　make　a　trial　jump　to　the　moon。　But　do　we　have　a　choice？　Doesn't　it　make　more　sense　to　strand　the　ship　a　safe　distance　from　Earth　rather　than　strand　her　in　Martian　orbit　as　some　have　suggested　out　of　sheer　superstitious　fear　of　repeated　misfortune？　All　this；　of　course；　presupposes　that　the　fold　generators　will　fail；　which　I　am　inclined　to　believe　will　not　be　the　case。　As　for　our　inadvertently　ending　up　near　Pluto　or　some　such　celestial　locale；　I　can　only　pray　that　doesn't　occur。　Should　it；　however；　I　might　as　well　state　now　that　I　have　always　regretted　missing　the　jump　that　landed　Claudia　and　the　rest　at　the　frozen　edge　of　our　home　system。　Perhaps　I'm　bound　by　destiny　to　follow　her　now。
General　Vincent　Grant；　ship's　log　of　the　Ark　Angel

See　you　on　the　dark　side　of　the　moon。
Late　twentieth…century　song　lyric

Jean　Grant　purposely　fell　out　of　step　with　Vince　and　the　two　senators　so　that　she　might　observe　Scott　without　setting　him　off　as　she　had　almost　done　in　the　arrival　hold。　Her　sentiments　had　been　sincere　if　awkwardly　expressed。　She　was　not　unaware　of　the　meaninglessness　of　promotions　and　medals　at　this　stage　of　things…she　had　always　held　that　battles　were　better　forgotten　than　immortalized　by　ribbons；　in　any　case…but　gestures　were　important　for　morale；　even　of　the　salute　and　handshake　variety　favored　by　armies　the　Quadrant　over。　And　God　knew　morale　was　in　short　supply　just　now。

She　took　note　of　the　slight　limp　in　Scott's　long…legged　stride　as　Vince　led　everyone　to　his　personal　quarters　aft　of　the　Ark　Angel's　bridge。　Up　close；　when　she　had　felt　Scott　stiffen　in　her　short…lived　embrace；　she　had　seen　the　scars　on　his　still　youthful　face　and　graceful　hands。　Nineteen　now…or　twenty…ix　in　Earth…relative　years　（a　system　she　readily　dismissed　because　of　the　havoc　it　wreaked　on　her　own　age）…he　was　growing　to　resemble　his　father　more　and　more。　But　from　beneath　the　broad　forehead　and　slick　black　hair　peered　the　dreamy　eyes　of　his　mother。　He　had　her　prominent　ears　as　well；　but　the　limp　and　the　stoop　in　his　formerly　erect　carriage　were　gifts　of　a　war　that　refused　to　go　away。

REF　staffers　and　administrative　officers　stared　openly　as　they　hurried　through　the　ship's　corridors；　trying　no　doubt　to　puzzle　out　the　identity　of　the　stranger　who　had　been　admitted　into　their　midst；　the　undernourished　apparition　in　rust…red　knee　boots　and　tattered　mauve　and　purple　flightsuit　adorned　with　Mars　Division　unit　patches。　The　scarred　warrior　wearing　an　archaic　Badger　on　his　hip。

Jean　listened　closely　to　Scott's　words　as　everyone　settled　themselves　behind　drinks　in　Vince's　quarters。　And　she　heard　the　strange　accent　he　had　acquired　during　his　time　on　Earth；　the　bitterness　in　his　breaking　voice　when　he　recounted　the　Mars　Division's　assault　against　Invid…occupied　Earthflow　the　ships　had　literally　e　apart　in　space；　defeated　long　before　the　Regis's　Shock　Troopers　and　Pincers　had　moved　in　to　loose　their　hyphenstorms；　their　fiery　coup　de　grace。

Scott　told　them　about　the　long　road　to　Reflex　Point；　a　journey　that　seemed　to　have　bee　something　of　a　personal　odyssey　to　despair　and　disillusionment。　Of　the　rogues；　traitors；　and　cowards　who　populated　that　war…torn　landscape。　Of　his　encounters　with　Jonathan　Wolff　（Scott's　template　for　cynicism；　Jean　thought）；　with　the　geriatric　star…struck　mechamorphs　who　had　returned　with　Major　Carpenter；　and　with　Sue　Graham　of　the　Jupiter　Division's　36th。　Jean　remembered　the　photojournalist　well　and　the　agony；　real　or　imagined；　she　had　put　Lisa　Hayes　Hunter　through。

Her　ears　pricked　up　when　Scott　mentioned　Reflex　Point　itself　and　spoke　of　some　of　the　things　he　had　described　to　neurometric　analysts　planetside。　She　saw　no　reason　to　doubt　the　veracity　of　Scott's　claims…that　he　had　actually　conversed　with　the　Invid　hivequeen…but　she　also　sensed　that　Scott　was　leaving　something　unsaid。　G2　had　tried　to　put　a　trace　on　the　freedom　fighters　Scott　claimed　had　acpanied　him　inside　the　plex；　but　a　search　had　proved　impossible　among　the　population　displacements　and　shifting　conditions　below。

In　turn；　Vince　caught　Scott　up　on　the　incredible　events　that　had　transpired　on　Optera　shortly　after　Mars　Division　had　folded　for　home　space。　Scott　was　attentive；　but　it　was　apparent　that　he　had　already…heard　most　of　it　from　REF　mecha　pilots。　Nevertheless；　he　had　questions　about　Dana　Sterling's　nearly　miraculous　appearance　and　the　so…called　Nichols　drive　that　powered　the　Shadow　fighters　and　retrofitted　Ark　Angel。

Jean　waited　for　a　lull　in　the　shop　talk　before　attempting　to　return　the　conversation　to　personal　concerns。　She　had　risen　from　her　chair　to　gaze　out　the　viewport；　mesmerized　by　the　scintillating　dance　of　Earth's　orbiting　debris。　Of　late；　every　viewport　in　the　ship　seemed　to　be　a　window　into　her　private　torment。　She　could　not　regard　Earth　or　stars　without　recalling　the　phoenix　vision　she　had　beheld　when　the　Tokugawa　had　met　its　terrible　end　above　Optera　or　the　real…time　manifestation　of　that　phoenix　as　it　had　scorched　its　way　through　the　expeditionary　fleet。

Nor　could　she　help　thinking　of　Gardner　and　Ackerman　and　Gunther　Rheinhardt；　all　dead。　And　Rolf　Emerson…dear　Rolf；　who　had　died　in　Bowie's　arms。　The　news　of　his　death　had　seemed　unreal　on　Tirol；　but　now；　so　close　。。。

〃We　were　so　sorry　to　hear　about　Marlene；　Scott；〃　she　said　at　last。

By　sheer　reflex；　Scott's　hand　went　to　his　breast　to　feel　for　the　heart…shaped　holo…locket　he　wore　under　his　flightsuit。　〃Her　parents　are　onboard；〃　Jean　added。

Scott　nodded　grimly。　〃And　I'm　sorry　to　hear　about　Bowie；〃　he　said；　meeting　her　eyes。

Jean　saw　concern　and　hatred　in　those　eyes…hatred　for　Musica；　the　Tiresian　clone　Bowie　was　in　love　with。　Jean　saw　little　purpose　in　going　into　it　now　that　Scott　was　exhibiting　signs　of　outright　xenophobia。　She　wondered　whether　Dana；　too；　would　fall　prey　to　his　distrust。　Dana；　who　had　remained　with　her　parents　on　Haydon　IV。

〃We'll　find　them；〃　Scott　said　suddenly；　watching　as　meaningful　glances　were　exchanged。　Then：　〃All　right；　what　aren't　you　people　telling　me？　You　said　you　received　transmissions　from　Tirol。〃

〃From　Cabell；〃　Vince　answered；　setting　aside　his　drink。　〃But　it's　only　what　we've　told　you；　Scott。　The　SDF…3　executed　its　fold　shortly　after　Rheinhardt's　Neptune　and　Saturn　groups　were　away。　Rheinhardt's　final　munique　with　Admiral　Hunter…〃

〃Rick；〃　Jean　thought　to　point　out。

〃…involved　decisions　on　deployment　of　the　Cyclones　and　Shadow　fighters。〃　Vince　paused。　〃And　the　use　of　the　neutron　‘S'　missiles　if　all　else　failed。〃

Scott's　eyes　widened。　Then　the　rumors　were　true：　Rheinhardt　had　been　prepared　to　render　the　planet　uninhabitable　rather　than　surrender　it　to　the　Invid。　〃Madness；　〃　he　said　through　clenched　teeth。

Vince　looked　to　his　wife　and　let　out　a　long　breath。

〃It　wasn't　an　easy　decision　to　arrive　at；　Colonel；〃　Senator　Huxley　said。　〃There　was　a　high　probability　that　most　of　the　Southern　hemisphere　would　survive　the　saturation。〃

Scott　stared　at　her；　then　ran　his　hands　down　his　face。　〃So　where　the　hell's　the　ship　if　they　pleted　their　fold？　It's　been　three　months　now！〃

〃Easy；　Scott；〃　Vince　said；　straightening　in　his　chair。　〃We're　doing　all　we　can。〃

Scott　glared　at　him。　〃By　sitting　here？　No；　I　don't　think　so。　Hasn't　anybody　thought　of　returning　to　Tirol？　There　has　to　be　some　trace　of　them。〃

Dr。　Penn　cleared　his　throat。　〃The　truth　is；　son；　we're　not　sure　we　can　return。　We　are；　however；　planning　to　execute　a　trial　jump　to　lay　all　doubts　to　rest。〃

Scott　nodded　in　prehension。　〃The　Protoculture。　The　one　thing　that's　plaguing　most　of　the　mecha　downside。　The　reason　I　had　to　ride　a　damn　chemical　shuttle　up　here。　Nothing's　working；　is　that　it？〃

〃Yes　and　no；〃　Penn　said　quickly。　〃Some　of　the　Veritechs　are　functional　and　fully　capable　of　mechamorphosis。　Others　have　limited　capacity　for　flight　or　bat　maneuvering。　Now　it　this　last　is　something　I　find　disturbing。〃

Scott　glanced　at　Vince　before　responding；　if　the　general　was　willing　to　let　Penn's　ment　slide；　so　would　he。　〃I　heard　some　talk：　there's　something　different　about　the　Flowers　you　harvested　from　Optera…〃

〃New　Praxis；〃　Justine　Huxley　amended。

〃New　Praxis；　then。　But　why　would　the　older　models　suddenly　shut　down　now？〃

At　the　viewport；　Jean　folded　her　arms。　〃We　were　hoping　you　might　be　able　to　tell　us；　Scott。〃

Scott　touched　his　fingertips　to　his　chest。　〃Me？　What　could　I…〃　Then　it　occurred　to　him。　〃The　Regis；〃　he　snorted。　〃We've　read　your　debriefing　reports；　Colonel；〃　Huxley　said。　〃You　claim　you　were　inside　the　central　hive　just　before　the　end；　that　you　actually　spoke　with　the　Regis。〃

Scott　swallowed　and　found　his　voice。　〃Yeah；　it's　true；　but　e　on；　it's　not　like　she　explained　herself　to　me。〃

〃Then　what　did　she　say？〃　Jean　asked。

Scott　smoothed　back　an　undisciplined　ma　of　hair。　〃What　did　she　say？〃　He　laughed　nervously。　〃I'm　still　not　sure　what　I　heard　and　what　I　imagined。　But　I　think　we　were；　well；　arguing。〃

〃Arguing？〃　Huxley　said　dubiously。

〃Yeah。　About　。。。　ethics。　About　whether　the　Invid　had　a　right　to　Earth　after　what　the　Masters　had　done　to　Optera。〃　Scott　searched　the　faces　appraising　him。　〃It　sounds　crazy；　I　know；　but　she　was　just　raving　about　what　warlike　beings　we　are；　about　how　the　universe　would　be　better　off　without　us。〃　No　one　said　anything　for　a　moment。

〃Anyway；　I　still　don't　see　what　all　this　has　to　do　with　the　SDF…3。　The　Invid　are　history；　aren't　they？〃

Jean　turned　to　the　viewport　and　thought　of　the　phoenix　once　more；　the　transubstantiation　of　an　entire　race。　〃Maybe　the　ship　went　where　she　went；〃　she　suggested　softly。　Vince　sent　her　a　questioning　look　as　she　swung　around。　〃The　Regis；　I　mean。〃

Penn　made　a　knowing　sound。　〃It's　a　pity　there　are　no　Invid　left　to　quiz　as　to　just　where　she　might　have　gone。〃

Scott　put　a　hand　over　his　mouth　as　though　to　bite　back　his　words。　Somewhere　below；　in　one　of　the　burgeoning　cities　of　the　Southlands　or　wandering　the　waste　of　the　Northlands；　were　two　of　the　three　children　the　Regis　had　conjugated　in　human　form。　Sera　and　Marlene…clone…close　in　appearance　to　the　Marlene　lost　to　him　over　a　year　ago。　

Could　he　face　them　again？　he　asked　himself。　Could　he　enlist　the　enemy's　help　in　finding　his　friends？

〃What　is　it；　Scott？〃　Jean　said；　watching　him。

Scott　clamped　his　jaws　shut；　then　relented。　〃Not　all　the　Invid　have　left；〃　he　told　them　at　last。


Above　them　rose　crystal　palaces　and　translucent　spires；　mansions　of　white…frost　gingerbread　and　platforms　of　smoky　blue　glass；　elfin　halls　and　minarets；　stately　columns；　onion　domes；　and　ethereal　towers。

Above　them　were　alloy　plains　three　hundred　miles　wide　and　burnished　smooth　as　a　looking　glass；　idyllic　landscapes　dotted　with　sea…green　lakes；　and　skies　of　gold　filled　with　conediers；　hovercraft；　and　outsize　magical　carpets。　A　dreamy　world　of　perfect　days　and　tranquil　nights；　of　exotic　biota　and　Eliding　beings　in　high…collared　robes　whose　silent　speech　was　a　gentle　thought　carried　on　the　wind。

And　below　them　。　。_　。　below　them　was　that　which　had　given　shape　to　the　illusion　above：　the　ultratech　plexities　of　a　planet…sized　artifact；　birthed　in　the　mind　of　an　alien　genius　who　had　left　his　mark　on　half　the　far…flung　worlds　of　the　Fourth　Quadrant。　A　genius　met　in　lore　and　legend　or　encountered　in　towering　shrines　that　masked　the　being　himself。

He　had　perhaps　imparted　his　name　to　the　artifact　or　left　that　for　others　to　do；　but　that　his　very　essence　was　there　erected…in　those　spires　and　domes　and　artificial　lakes…was　not　to　be　denied。

And　suspended　between…in　the　boundless　chamber　that　confined　them…was　this　place　of　instrumentality　nodes　and　info…networks；　the　material　interface　with　the　Awareness…Haydon　had　set　in　place　to　mind　his　clever　works。　So　this　place　was　neither　one　nor　the　other　but　a　middle　ground　from　which　to　know　creator　and　created；　sacrosanct；　then；　truly　suspended。　For　from；　where　else　could　one　take　the　proper　measure　of　things？

Exedore　ceased　his　mystical　musings　even　before　he　sensed　the　soft　intrusion　of　Veidt's　sendings。　This　was　what　mingling　with　humans　and　Garudans　had　wrought；　he　told　himself；　a　penchant　for　the　metaphysical。　Questions　mencing　with　why。

How　far　he　had　e　from　the　directed；　purposeful　nature　of　the　Imperative！　he　would　catch　himself　thinking。　Feeling　as　remote　from　that　now　as　his　recontoured　physical　self　was　from　the　genetic　vats　that　had　conceived　him。　Normalized　in　both　size　and　aspect　and　drained　of　the　conquering　urge；　the　pulsion　to　obey　without　question。　Given　to　metaphysical　ponderings。　How　un…Zentraedi；　indeed！　And　how　Great　Breetai　would　have　mocked　him！

〃A　moment　more　and　the　requested　correlations　will　be　available；〃　Veidt　sent　from　the　data　column。

Exedore　swiveled　in　his　chair　to　regard　the　limbless　Haydonite…his　partner　these　past　years。　A　response　formed　on　the　tip　of　his　tongue；　though　there　was　little　need　of　it。　An　old　habit；　difficult　to　break。　〃I；　um　。　。　。〃

Veidt　hovered　through　a　quarter　turn　to　face　him　with　what　nearly　approximated　a　smile。

〃I　am　well　aware　that　my　workings　please　you；　Lord　Exedore。　Your　words　are　an　echo；　you　understand…an　unnecessary　redundancy。〃

Exedore　favored　him　with　a　genuine　grin；　as　difficult　to　suppress　as　the　habit　itself。　This　was　as　close　as　they　came　to　jesting　or　arguing；　he　still　was　not　sure　which。　Veidt's　face　had　already　resumed　its　normal　configuration；　which　was　to　say；　blank。　As　featureless　as　an　unfinished　mannequin's；　a　tech　aboard　the　SDF…3　had　once　mented　in　Exedore's　presence。

〃Featureless；　yes；〃　Veidt　sent；　〃but　hardly