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第44部分

18_the_end_of_the_circle-第44部分

小说: 18_the_end_of_the_circle 字数: 每页4000字

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〃Who aho wha was all he got in。

〃This is so typical;〃 Karea said through clenched teeth。 〃We're stuck in newspace or wherever it is; possibly forever; and suddenly it hits you that we should be seeing more of each other。〃

〃Well; yeah; that just happens to be the case;〃 he said lamely。 Then he heard laughter and realized that there were some enlisted ratings standing back by the hatch; ordnance men and women taking a break before going back to rearming the mecha。

〃Haven't you goddamn BB stackers got anything better to do?〃 he railed at them。 When he looked back; Karen was gone。

This time he had to grab her sleeve to stop her; and he thought for a moment she was going to sock him。 At least they were out of anyone else's earshot。

〃Have it your way; Karen! Let's go back to the cats…and…dogs routine。〃

〃My way? I want you to think about that; Jack。 Remember back when we were stranded on Praxis and you got so domestic? Even though you put on a front when there was anyone else around。 You were the one who was all set to plow the north forty; lasso goats; and raise us'ns up a crop of rug runners。 Right?

〃Then we get off the planet and back into the war; and your priorities revert。 That's your pattern。 When you were laid up after Burak gored you; you were actually acting human for a while; but once you were up and around; ugh!〃

Jack had his mouth open to object; but Karen had been saving this one up for a long time; and he didn't stand a chance。 〃And now we're beached here in new…space and you're making an approach run。 Well; spare us both the thrill; Baker!〃

〃You knew I was insecure and thoughtless when you got me to fall in love with you!〃 he hollered。

Karen uttered a wordless ki…yi and tried to take his nose off with a snap kick。 Jack just managed to fall back but tripped over a stanchion and whapped the back of his head on a viewport rim; going down。

He sat there seeing stars。 〃King's X! What're you; working for the Invid?〃

She was torn between concern and the urge to do mayhem。 〃Oh; Baker; damn your eyes!〃 She knelt by him。 〃Here; let's see。〃

〃No! Ouch! You're just trying to finish the job。〃

〃Stuff it; you big baby。 You didn't even break the skin。〃 She released him and let him get up by himself。

〃You made your point; Karen。 You don't want me to talk to you unless I've already talked to you several times earlier that same day。〃

〃Stop trying to twist things; Jack。〃

〃Yeah; all right。 I bet you think that effing Sean Phillips is more considerate; right?〃

He rubbed his head gingerly; gazing out the viewport。 There were more stars than there had been a while ago。 〃D' you suppose she's bringing in biota?〃

〃What?〃

〃You heard what Dante said about the Regis。 All these stars she's making appear here in new…space…Are there lifeforms on them? Maybe even intelligent ones? Is she ripping them off from someplace else or just thinking them up?〃 

〃You're asking the wrong woman。〃

〃Mmm。 Okay; look; how about dinner a week from Friday?〃

〃I don't think they have Fridays in new…space; Jack。〃 She turned toward the officers' mess; more slowly this time。 He fell in beside her。 〃How about breakfast tomorrow? In my bunk?〃


Bowie; the Muses; Sean; and Marie had stayed well back during the meeting。 There were plenty of astonishing revelations but not really much anybody could say or do about anything梒ertainly not the ex…UEG fighters or the siren Muses。

As the meeting began to break up; Sean yanked Bowie's sleeve and pointed with a sneaky smile and half…lidded eyes。 Angelo Dante had wandered over to the hatch just about the time Gnea; her attention seemingly elsewhere; had eased back out of the crowd。

A look passed between the two。 Gnea left; and Dante hung back; scanning the partment to see if anyone had noticed them。

〃Don't let him see you watching!〃 Sean hissed。 The ATACs and Marie quickly glanced elsewhere。 Musica and Allegra gazed at them unprehendingly; then at each other; so the effect was the same。 A moment later Angie was gone。

〃Angelo Dante?〃 Bowie boggled。 〃No; must've been something that wants us to think it's Angelo Dante。〃

Musica had caught on; and she was smiling; too; slipping her arm through Bowie's。 But Allegra said slowly; 〃You mean you think he's not human?〃

Marie Crystal laughed。 〃Oh; no; he's human; all right; no matter how he tries to hide it。 I bet he and Gnea are gonna Indian wrestle to see who carries whom across the threshold。〃

Sean sighed and made lewd; fishy kissing noises at her until he realized that two senior staff officers were glaring at him。 Marie added; 〃Now that I think about it; though; there's been a lot of slap and tickle going on since we entered newspace。〃

〃If I understood it right; that's what Lang was driving at;〃 Bowie put in thoughtfully。 〃Maybe creating a newspace macroverse is like writing a song。 You can't just haul off and do it cold; you haveta draw on inspiration。〃

That had them all silent and thinking。 The loves and attractions of the SDF…3's plement were only part of the mental and emotional baggage they carried。

〃It occurs to me that maybe we all want to be real careful about what we think and say and do around here;〃 Marie pondered aloud。


Perhaps I saw this day ing all along; Lang mused; keying the armored vault module with his spoken password; DNA code; and brain scan。 Why else would I have made this shrine to it?

The vault module had been aboard the SDF…3 all along; transferred there from storage on Earth。 The Robotech equipment it held had been removed from the just…crashed SDF…1 within days of Lang's first encounter with it in '99。 The equipment sat before him now; silent and patient; looking little different from the way it had in the instant when Lang had first seen Zor's face on its screen。

He ran his hand along it; the console that had been the nucleus of the SDF…l's living Robotechnology。 It had been replaced by human interface equipment; which had then been set up in a conventional bridge arrangement where Henry Gloval set his strong hand on the tiller of galactic history。

But the original systemry was here; preserved; inert。 Touching it; Lang felt his skin tingle; recalling the unspeakable shock when pure Protoculture; amassed and controlled by Zor's least prehensible devices; had flooded through him。 It was an event that belonged if not on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel; then perhaps on a matrix containment casing; Lang thought ruefully。

He had kept to himself as much as possible the profound changes the Protoculture had worked in him and his new affinity for it。 He was absolutely indispensable to the new Robotech Age; and so his strangeness was overlooked。 People hailed him as genius; as savior; yet he'd been confronted every day; from the first crash exploration in '99 to this moment; with his own shortings and fear。

By long habit he glanced back to make sure the vault module was totally secure。 He reached out and tapped a code into a touchpad。

Zor's master console came to life。

Not to full power; of course; there was little Protoculture now; and it all had the unavoidable Second Generation impurities and unsuitability。 But the infusion let the alien indicators and displays show that they still waited。 He could flood the devices with Second Gen power whenever he chose。

Up until a short while before; he could have taken a second boost…could have done that at almost any moment over the decades。 His powers would quite probably be increased geometrically; the math and research data were promising on that point; just as they led to the inescapable fact that he would die very shortly thereafter。

Zand had been willing to risk it after that first voluntary exposure to the Protoculture he had taken against Lang's orders and behind his back。 Though neither of them mentioned it later; Lang had been quite prepared to shoot his colleague down in cold blood rather than see him take that next step toward the godhead。

Most of that stemmed from fear of what the second boost might make of Zand; who was none too stable as it was; of course。 But wasn't there more to it? Jealousy and a refusal to let Zand have something that he; Lang; feared to claim as his?

No matter。 Zand had had his transcendence; all right。 And to hear Dana Sterling tell it; it was all in line with the fear of the Shapings that was almost a religious fervor within Lang sow。

Here in newspace; though; the Shapings had gone awry or petered out or 。。。 Lang was not sure what。

His polestar faith; the Shapings; led him no more。 The politicians and the military would go on pretending there was something they could do; but he knew differently。 There was only one possible way to save the lives onboard the SDF…3 and; more important; the universe threatened by newspace。

That route lay in a direct encounter with the Shapings。 And the only way anyone would do that would be to raise oneself beyond the limits of mortal power; at least for a single moment。

Only no one was going to do that with Zor's equipment; not with Second Gen Protoculture at any rate。

At least 。。。 not as the console was configured now。 Lang drew his stool closer and sat absorbed in the console。 After long minutes he reached for a sensor and hooked it into one of the system's peripherals。 He took up a touchpad and began keying equations into his mainframe; scarcely aware he was doing it。

He paused to run his hand along the console in thought; recalling its Protoculture thunderbolt; and almost threw down the touchpad。 It was madness!

There was a sudden flux in the equipment…not unusual; he'd had to jury…rig a lot of the modifications that let it use Second Gen Protoculture。 He forgot his frustration and fear; watching rainbow waves of distortion chasing each other across the ten…foot screen。

Lang did not even need to wonder what he'd see next; he had viewed the recording so many times that he knew the pattern of the static that preceded it。

He was staring at the ageless; elfin face again; with its wide; almond eyes; framed by a mane of bright; starlight hair。 He'd long since memorized the sounds of Zor's speech of greeting and warning。

Zor's recording。 Kicked up at random by a meaningless Protoculture hiccup; some might say。

But

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