03_homecoming-第22部分

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　that　he　could　afford　to　be　humble　in　all　things…already　a　Robotech　legend。　Unassuming　and　kind　unless　some　evil　threatened。　Max　the　placid　and　benign；　truer　to　what　Kyle　aspired　to　be；　in　a　way；　than　Kyle　himself。

On　the　other　hand　was　Kyle；　seemingly　apart　from　any　worldly　consideration　or　motivation；　his　incredible　martial…arts　skills　just　a　reflection　of　things　that　relentlessly　drove　him　for　spiritual　transcendence。　People　sought　him；　virtually　courted　him；　sensing　that　he'd　passed　beyond　everything　that　was　superficial；　and　wanting…what？　His　attention　and　approval？　His　friendship？　He　didn't　have　them　to　give。

But　people　wanted　it　more　than　anything。　Kyle's　gift　was　a　kind　of　cold　invulnerability　that　brought　him　close　to　being　superhuman　for　the　most　dire　and　yet　formidable　reasons；　reasons　that　bined　the　very　best　and　the　very　worst　in　him。

Those　who　knew　certain　spiritual　and　fighting　systems　could　see　the　symptoms　in　him：　all　things　lay　within　his　grasp；　excepting　only　that　which　he　wanted　most。　So　his　innermost　passions　had　been　brought　under　control　by　an　act　of　will；　the　dark　side　of　his　nature　subdued　in　a　battle　that　made　lesser　contests；　mere　physical　duels；　seem　childishly　easy。

And　that　made　for　a　powerful　fighter　who　was　without　fear　and　who　would　give　obeisance　to　the　very　best　conventional　values…while　his　inner　being　fought　an　endless　war。

Some　of　the　people　who　were　in　the　White　Dragon　that　day　later　swore　that　the　very　air　between　Max　and　Kyle　crackled　like　a　kind　of　summer　lightning　or　perhaps　the　terrifying　glow　between　two　segments　of　a　critical　mass　being　brought　too　close　together。

But　Kyle　lowered　his　eyes　to　the　floor　and　said　softly；　〃It　was　just　something　that　had　to　be　done；　I　guess。〃　His　head　came　up；　and　he　looked　about　at　the　men　he'd　bested。　〃I'm　sorry。〃　A　trickle　of　blood　ran　from　the　corner　of　his　mouth　down　to　his　chin。

Minmei　was　deciding　how　best　to　show　her　concern　for　Kyle；　when　Lisa　stepped　up　to　him；　holding　a　scented；　daintily　folded　little　handkerchief　in　her　hand。　This　was　the　woman　who'd　kept　a　rioter　from　pouncing　on　Kyle　two　minutes　earlier　by　bringing　down　a　chair　on　his　head。

〃You're　bleeding！　Maybe　this'll　help。〃

He　drew　away　from　it　as　if　it　carried　plague；　but　his　voice　was　still　soft　and　measured。　〃Please　don't　bother。　I'd　rather　not　have　help　from　any　of　you　people。　But　thank　you；　anyway。〃

She　was　shattered。　〃I　see。〃

Minmei　was　quick　to　see　her　opening　and　use　it；　snatching　the　handkerchief　from　Lisa's　upturned　palm。　〃That's　right；　Kyle　dislikes　servicemen。〃

Lisa　stared　at　the　floor　and　hoped　the　hot　red　flush　of　anger　in　her　cheeks　didn't　show　too　much。　Servicemen？

〃Let　me　help；〃　Minmei　said；　dabbing　at　the　wound　on　his　cheek。

Kyle　hissed　in　pain。　〃It　hurts　if　you　press　too…hard。〃

She　drew　a　quick　breath。　〃Oh；　Kyle；　please　forgive　me！〃

Punches　and　kicks　hadn't　seemed　to　bother　him　that　much。　〃Is　he　for　real　or　am　I　crazy？〃　Max　muttered。

Rick　shrugged；　if　he　hadn't　just　seen　Kyle　take　care　of　some　of　the　more　hard…core　rowdies　aboard　the　SDF…1；　he　would　have　said　Minmei's　cousin　was　a　plete　wimp。

If　it　was　an　act；　it　was　brilliant。　The　bridge　bunnies　were　oozing　sympathy　for　Kyle；　and　somebody　was　going　to　have　to　stick　a　stretcher　under　mander　Hayes　if　she　got　any　more　emotional　over　his　well…being；　while　Minmei　glared　at　ail　the　other　women　jealously　and　shielded　Kyle　from　them　as　much　as　she　could。　Miss　Macross　stroked　her　cousin's　arm　with　a　proprietary　air。

Rick　turned　to　Max；　feeling　the　swelling　on　his　own　forehead　and　the　throbbing　of　assorted　contusions　suffered　in　the　riot。　〃Max；　if　you're　asking　me；　the　answer　is　yes！〃　Rick　told　him。


Azonia；　mistress　and　overlord　of　the　Zentraedi；　surveyed　the　strategic　situation　from　the　mand　post　of　her　nine…mile…long　flagship。

Matters　were　ing　to　a　head。　She　was　determined　that　this　would　be　the　proof　of　her　abilities。　A　stellar　chance！　Once　she　defeated　these　Micronian　upstarts；　the　universe　would　be　hers。　Supreme　mander？　That　would　lie　well　within　her　grasp；　and　farewell；　Dolza！

Or　perhaps　she　would　bee　the　new　Robotech　Mistress。　Others　had　played　that　dangerous　game；　only　to　lose。　But　none　played　it　as　well　as　she；　Azonia　was　confident。

She　was　less　than　happy　at　the　moment；　however；　having　just　been　informed　that　Khyron；　the　mad　genius　of　war；　had　again　disobeyed　her　orders。

Azonia　rose　to　her　feet　from　the　thronelike　mand　chair　on　the　bridge　of　her　own　vaunted；　bat…tested　battleship；　fury　striking　from　her　like　lightning　as　though　she　were　a　goddess　who　could　smash　worlds。

And；　in　fact；　Azonia　was。

〃What？　Are　you　saying　Khyron　left　the　fleet's　holding　formation　in　violation　of　my　orders？〃

The　munications　officer　knew　that　tone　of　voice　and　was　quick　to　genuflect　before　her；　then　touch　her　forehead　in　abasement。　〃Yes；　mander。〃

She　was　tall　even　for　a　Zentraedi　woman；　some　fifty…five　feet　and　more。　Her　mannishly　short　hair　had　been　dyed　blue；　not　because　she　cared　for　meaningless　fads　but　rather　so　she　would　not　be　thought　unaware。

She　had　exotic；　oblique　eyes　that　were　piercing　beam　weapons　of　intellect　that　had　served　Azonia's　rise　beyond　her　contemporaries　to　the　very　pinnacle　of　Zentraedi　mand。　〃That　is　all；〃　she　said　coldly。

〃Yes；　mander。〃　The　messenger　withdrew　quickly　and　very　gratefully；　beheading　the　bearer　of　bad　news　was　a　not…unmon　Zentraedi　custom；　which　among　other　things　served　to　keep　the　lower　orders　in　their　place。　She　was　glad…and　lucky…to　have　her　life。

But　Azonia　had　dismissed　the　messenger　from　her　mind　pletely；　her　concentration　was　all　for　the　problem　at　hand。　Technical　readouts　and　displays　told　her　all　the　details　she　needed　to　know：　The　Backstabber；　with　a　strike　force　from　his　infamous　Seventh　Mechanized　Division　had；　by　Robotech　fission；　detached　a　major　vessel…form　from　his　own　flagship　and　was　proceeding　at　flank　speed　toward　the　spot　where　the　Micronians　had　landed　their　stolen　starship。

Azonia　touched　a　control　almost　languidly。　Close…up　details　showed　streamers　of　fire　and　ionization　trailing　from　Khyron's　craft；　its　outermost　skin　glowing　red…hot；　he　was　making　his　entry　into　the　Earth's　atmosphere　at　a　madly　acute　angle；　risking　severe　friction　damage。

Azonia　had　sufficient　experience　to　know　that　Khyron　and　his　attack　troops　were　sitting　out　a　roller　coaster　ride　in　an　oven；　all　in　the　name　of　a　possible　extra　few　minutes　of　surprise。

It　was　so　audacious。　It　was　so　willful；　so　disdainful　of　anyone's　criticism　or　interference。　So　Zentraedi。　Azonia　resumed　her　throne；　chin　on　fist。　〃Khyron；　what　have　you　e　up　with　this　time；　eh？〃

She　was　in　some　small　part　envious；　sorry　that　she　wouldn't　be　there　for　the　fight。　With　Khyron　in　charge；　there　was　sure　to　be　a　splendid　battle；　bloodshed…that　highest　glory　that　was　conquest。

On　a　previous　venture；　Khyron　had　been　yanked　from　his　objective　at　the　last　moment　by　Breetai's　manual　override　return　mand；　which　had　caused　the　Backstabber's　war　machines　to　return　to　the　fleet　despite　his　countermanding　orders。　Khyron　had　apparently　taken　steps　to　ensure　that　it　couldn't　happen　to　him　again。

By　now　the　Earthlings　would　be　hearing　the　peal　of　Khyron's　thunder。　Azonia；　eyes　slitted　like　a　cat's；　savored　the　moment；　knowing　she　couldn't　lose　either　way。　If　the　Backstabber　won；　the　credit　would　go　to　her　as　armada　mander；　she　would　make　sure　of　that；　if　he　lost　and　was　unfortunate　or　unwise　enough　to　return　to　the　fleet；　she　would　have　the　pleasure　of　executing　him　herself。

Azonia　savored　the　thought。　Violence　and　death　and　a　certain　sensual　cruelty　were　things　to　mand　any　Zentraedi's　emotions。　Khyron　was　being　quite　intriguing。

Azonia　watched　the　displays　with　feline　glee。　Decorate　him；　kill　him；　she　was　equally　eager　to　do　either　one。


CHAPTER　SIXTEEN

There　before　him　were　the　Micronians；　doing　everything　that　was　anathema　to　the　Zentraedi。　But　the　lure　of　the　forbidden　was　always　strong　in　Khyron；　and　so　there　were　certain　things　about　Micronian　behavior　that；　I　think；　he　found　tremendously　seductive…not　the　weakling　things；　of　course；　but　rather　the　sensual。
Is　it　any　wonder　he　loathed　and　hated　them；　could　not　bear　to　have　them　even　exist？
Grel；　aide　to　Khyron

She'd　been　through　this　drill　before；　but　it　didn't　make　it　any　easier。　Donna　Wilhelm；　an　enlisted…rating　tech　who　was　relief…watch　fill…in　for　Sammie；　tried　not　to　lose　her　posure　and　let　her　voice　quaver。

Her　fingers　clenched　at　the　edges　of　the　console；　so　hard　that　it　felt　like　she　might　crease　it。　〃Captain　Gloval；　unidentified　cruiser…class　spacecraft　closing　on　our　position　at　Mach　seven。〃

She　was　the　one　Claudia　had　chewed　out　for　daydreaming；　Donna　was　exacting　now；　more　practiced。　She'd　learned　the　lessons　anybody　under　Gloval　learned；　and　as　a　result　she　was　capable　of　manning　her　station　through　hell's　own　flames。　Which　looked　like　it　was　about　to　bee　a　job　requirement。

Donna　hadn't　heard　footsteps；　but　Gloval　was　suddenly　at　her　shoulder；　massive　and　calm；　whacking　his　briar　pipe　against　the　heel　of　his　shoe　to　knock　out　a　bit　of　dottle。　〃Punch　it　up；　please。〃

〃Yes；　sir。　Altitude　twelve　thousand。〃　Donna　lit　up　her　part　of　the　bridge　with　tactical　displays。　It　was　a　given　that　this　could　be　the　minute　in　which　every　soul　aboard　died。

But　that　couldn't　excuse　sloppiness　in　the　discharge　of　one's　obligations。　There　was　a　pure；　white…hot　kind　of　bushido；　an　ultimate　calmness　in　matters　of　overwhelming　importance；　a　very　privileged　eye…of…the…storm　serenity；　that　the　people　on　the　bridge　of　SDF…1　were　expected　to　have。

Once　you'd　been　a　part　of　it；　it　was　just　impossible　to　settle　for　anything　less。　Donna　had　learned　it　in　a　school　that　permitted　very　few　errors　and　no　inattention；　under　Gloval；　Lisa　Hayes；　Claudia　Grant；　and　the　others。

So　now　Donna　did　her　duty；　up　to　SDF…1　standards；　which　is　to　say　without　flaw　and　with　the　guts　of　a　cat　burglar。　〃Eleven　thousand；〃　she　updated。　〃If　it　maintains　present　course；　it'll　touch　down　approx　ten　miles　from　the　SDF…1　magnetic　bearing　three…two…five。〃

It　couldn't　be　anything　but　trouble；　the　war　was　on　again；　and　if　peace　had　seemed　too　good　to　be　true；　that　was　because　it　was。　But　Gloval's　broad　hand　p