09_the_final_nightmare-第3部分

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And　they　all　knew　that　the　need　to　deal　with　the　savage；　relentless　Invid　might　e　soon。　The　Flower　of　Life　had　bloomed　on　Earth；　and　where　the　Flower　bloomed；　the　Robotech　Masters'　mortal　enemies；　the　Invid；　were　bound　to　appear　in　short　order。

It　was　all　so　frustrating　to　the　Masters；　even　though　they　didn't　reveal　any　emotion。　They　had　traveled　for　nearly　fifteen　years…across　the　galaxy…in　search　of　the　last　Protoculture　Matrix　in　existence。　There　were　determined　to　find　that　source　of　power　that　could　return　them　to　their　rightful　place　as　lords　of　all　creation。　And　yet；　although　they　were　near　their　prize；　they　were　unable　to　claim　it　because　of　the　stubbornness　of　the　primitive　Humans　below。　Unbeknownst　to　the　inhabitants　of　Earth；　the　Matrix；　sealed　under　one　of　three　mounds　on　the　outskirts　of　Monument　City；　was　going　to　seed。

The　Masters'　calculations　showed　that　the　Protoculture　would　soon　shift　from　a　contained　mass；　kept　in　the　prefertilized　state　in　which　it　exuded　its　incredible　and　unique　forces；　and　convert　into　the　Flowers　of　Life　that　the　Invid　ingested　to　sustain　themselves。

But　the　Humans　weren't　the　Masters'　only　opposition；　they　weren't　the　most　formidable　enemies。　The　mounds　were　guarded　by　invisible　Protoculture　entities…three　strange；　mysterious；　and　sinister　wraiths。

The　wraiths　had　manifested　themselves　once…or　rather；　they　had　permitted　the　Masters　to　perceive　them。　They　were　cloaked　and　cowled　fire…eyed　specters…ghosts　whose　power　stymied　the　Masters'　efforts　to　find　out　exactly　where　the　Matrix　lay。　Without　that　information；　it　was　impossible　for　the　Masters　to　use　simple　brute　force　to　rip　the　Matrix　from　the　mounds；　that　would　risk　damaging　the　thing　they　had　e　so　far　to　retrieve。　The　Masters　weren't　sure　yet　what　other　powers　or　designs　the　wraiths　might　have。

And　now；　to　plicate　matters　further；　local　perturbations　were　hampering　the　performance　of　the　Masters'　cloned　slave　populace。　〃Yes；　that　might　be　our　problem　with　Zor　Prime；〃　Shaizan　was　saying。　〃We've　had　some　trouble　with　him；　almost　from　the　first　moment　when　he　was　set　down　among　the　Humans。　His　neuro…sensor　has　been　malfunctioning。〃

Not　that　Zor　Prime；　cloned　from　tissue　samples　of　the　slain　original　Zor；　greatest　genius　of　his　race　and　discoverer　of　Protoculture；　hadn't　been　of　some　use。　Divested　of　his　memories；　the　clone　had　been　dispatched　among　the　Terrans　as　an　unwitting　spy；　so　that　the　Masters　could　see　through　his　eyes　and　hear　through　his　ears。

The　Masters　were　also　hoping　that　the　trauma　of　being　among　the　local　primitives；　and　being　on　the　planet　to　which　the　original　Zor　had　dispatched　the　Protoculture　Matrix　so　long　ago；　would　spur　Zor's　memory。　Perhaps　they　could　get　Zor　Prime　to　tell　them　why　the　Matrix　had　been　sent；　precisely　where　it　was；　and　how　to　get　it　back　from　both　the　Humans　and　the　invisible　wraithlike　Protoculture　entities　who　guarded　the　mounds　that　hid　it。

Dag；　second　among　the　Masters；　had　a　slightly　more　prognathous　jaw　than　the　others。　He　said；　〃It　seems　the　Human　behavioral　dysfunction　known　as　emotions　may　be　responsible　for　this　malfunction。〃

Bowkaz；　third　of　the　Masters；　nodded；　his　brows　nearly　meeting　as　his　frown　deepened。　〃Yes。　These　emotions　destabilize　the　proper　functioning　of　the　healthy　brain　and　the　rational　mind。〃

〃What　is　your　will　then；　Masters？〃　asked　Jeddar；　leader　of　the　Clonemaster　triumvirate…their　chief　slaves…bowing　humbly　before　them。

〃Hmm；〃　Shaizan　said；　gazing　down　on　him。　〃You　would　like　our　permission　to　carry　out　this　plan　of　yours；　no　doubt。〃

The　Clonemaster　kowtowed。　〃Yes；　my　lord。　We　believe　it　will　be　our　key　to　a　quick；　decisive　victory。　We　only　need　your　approval。〃

The　Masters　touched　hands　to　their　Protoculture　cap。　Wherever　one　of　the　nailless；　spiderlike　hands　touched　a　mottled　area　of　the　mushroom…shaped　cap；　the　mottled　area　came　alight　with　the　power　of　Protoculture。　The　Masters　swiftly　and　silently　came　to　a　consensus。


The　barracks　housing　the　15th　squad；　Alpha　Tactical　Armored　Corps…ATAC…was　a　truncated　cone　a　dozen　stories　high；　of　smoky　blue　glass　and　gleaming　blue　tile　（the　most　modern　of　polymers）　set　on　a　framework　of　blued　alloy。　It　was　a　large　plex　even　though　it　only　served　as　housing　and　operational　facility　to　a　few　people；　much　of　the　aboveground　area　was　filled　with　parts　and　equipment　storage　and　repair　areas；　armory；　kitchen　and　dining　and　lavatory　space；　and　so　on。　In　many　ways　it　was　a　self…contained　world。

At　the　ground　and　basement　levels　were　the　mecha　servicing　and　repair　stations；　and　the　motor　stables　filled　with　parked　Hovercycles　and　other　conventional　vehicles；　along　with　the　giant　Hovertanks…the　15th's　primary　mecha。

Up　in　her　quarters；　Dana　wasn't　thinking　about　any　kind　of　machinery　just　then。　Agonizing　over　what　to　wear　for　her　date　with　Zor；　she　flung　every　skirt；　dress；　and　blouse　in　her　closet　in　different　directions；　draping　them　with　lingerie。

There　was；　no　doubt；　something　in　the　regs　about　officers　dating　privates；　but　Zor　was　a　different　case。　He　had　been　placed　with　the　15th　in　the　hope　that　military　service　would　help　him　recover　his　missing　memory；　and　that　exposure　to　Earth…style　social　interaction　and　bonding　would　sway　him　against　his　former　Masters。

When　it　came　to　social　interaction；　Dana　was　more　than　ready。　It　wasn't　just　that　Zor　was　dreamy　looking　and　a　little　disoriented。　There　was　also　the　fact　that　he　was　alien；　as　was　Dana's　mother。　She　sometimes　wondered　if　it　was　blood　calling　to　blood。

Long　before　she　had　actually　seen　him；　Dana　had　felt　inexplicable　emotions　and　experienced　strange　Visions　bearing　on　the　red　Bioroid　Zor　piloted。　Something　within　drew　her　to　Zor。

Now；　as　she　hurried　into　the　unit　ready…room；　which　doubled　as　a　rec　room　during　off…duty　hours；　she　tried　to　set　all　that　aside　and　concentrate　on　having　a　good　time。

Decked　out　in　a　frilly　skirt　and　silk　blouse；　she　was　all　set　to　yell　Hi　Zor！　I'm　here！　Only…it　wasn't　Zor　she　found　there。

Squad　Sergeant　Angelo　Dante　stepped　away　from　the　autobar　（it　was　after　duty　hours；　and　the　cybernetic　mixologist　would　dispense　alcohol　to　troopers　who　were　certified　offduty）　and　strolled　over　toward　her。　〃Well；　well！　Aren't　we　looking　awfully　chic　tonight？〃

She　tried　to　act　nonchalant；　she　wanted　to　enjoy　herself　with　Zor　and　not　start　off　the　evening　with　another　row　with　Angelo。　〃Have　you　seen　Zor　around？〃

In　the　days　before　the　First　Robotech　War　（after　which　an　almost　medieval　cluster　of　city…states　had　banded　in　a　loose　hegemony　to　fill　the　vacuum　of　world　rule　and　form　the　United　Earth　Government…the　UEG）　soldiers　had　had　less　autonomy　and　more　discipline；　so　the　old　salts　liked　to　say。　If　so；　she　would　have　weled　a　reversion　to　those　old　days。

If　she　kicked　Angelo's　feet　out　from　under　him　and　mashed　a　coffee　table　over　his　head；　Southern　Cross　mand　might　not　consider　the　act　a　necessary　disciplinary　measure　and　it　could　cause　sociodynamic　strains。　Besides；　Angelo　was　awfully　tough。

Dana　restrained　herself；　but　resolved　to　mand　his　loyalty…even　if　it　meant　inviting　the　very　big；　very　strong；　and　quick　NCO　to　step　downstairs　to　the　motor　stables　and　have　it　out…before　another　day　passed。　There　was　no　way　two　people　could　run　a　Hovertank　squad；　or　any　other　unit。

Angelo　smiled　spitefully。　〃Yeah。　I　bet　if　he　had　seen　you　in　your　prom　queen　rig；　he　would　have　never　asked　Nova　out　tonight。〃

〃Nova？　Nova　Satori？〃

Angelo　buffed　his　nails　on　his　torso　harness。　Dana　considered　decking　him；　he　was　large；　but　she　was　used　to　fighting　for　everything　she　had　ever　gotten；　and　if　she　could　get　in　the　first　shot。。。

〃Uh…huh；〃　he　said。　〃Let's　see　now：　something　about　dinner；　and　the　theater　afterwards。〃

He　backed　away　suddenly　as　she　came　at　him　with　clenched　fists；　ready　to　spit　brimstone　and；　he　could　see　from　the　way　she　held　herself；　do　some　damage。

She　was　raving。　〃That　no…good　two…timer！　That　sneaking　alien！　He's　getting　more　Human　every　day！〃

Angelo　was　fending　her　off。　〃Well　now；　ma'am；　maybe　all　he　needs　is　a　bit　of　passion；　remember？〃　That　was　what　she　had　said　to　him；　back　when　Angelo　was　about　to　take　Zor's　face　off。

〃You're　enjoying　this；　huh？〃　she　seethed　at　him。　Then　she　had　an　image　of　suitable　revenge。　She　held　up　the　two　movie　tickets。　〃Well；　I　guess　you'll　just　have　to　escort　me；　big　boy！〃

Angelo's　face　fell　and　he　made　some　odd　sounds　before　he　found　the　words。　〃Uh；　ah；　thanks；　Lieutenant；　but　I'll　pass…〃

〃You　ain't　reading　me；　Sergeant！　It's　an　order！〃


The　Clonemasters'　update　was　even　more　bleak　than　had　been　anticipated。

〃My　lord；　our　reservoirs　of　Protoculture　power　are　running　dry。　The　effects　of　this　are　being　felt　throughout　the　fleet。　Our　new　clonelings　are　lethargic　and　unresponsive；　the　effectiveness　of　our　weapons　is　limited；　and　our　defensive　shields　cannot　be　maintained　full…time。　If　we　do　not　secure　a　large　infusion　of　Protoculture；　we　are　doomed。〃

As　Jeddar　spoke；　the　humpish　Protoculture　cap　of　the　Masters　showed　them；　by　mind…image；　the　deteriorating　situation　in　all　six　of　the　enormous　mother　ships。　Where　the　Protoculture　energies　had　once　coursed　through　them　like　highways　of　incandescence　or　arterial　systems　of　pure；　godlike　force；　those　flows　were　now　reduced　to　unsteady　rivulets。　It　was　like　looking　into　one　huge；　dying　organism。


Elsewhere　in　the　colossal　flagship；　six　clones…two　triumvirates…faced　off；　five　against　one。

On　the　one　side　was　Musica；　ethereal　weaver　of　song；　Mistress　of　the　Cosmic　Harp；　whose　melodies　gave　shape　and　effect　to　the　mental　force　with　which　the　Clonemasters　controlled　their　subjects。　She　was　pale　and　delicate　looking；　slender；　with　long；　deep　green　hair。

To　one　side　were　her　two　clone　sisters；　Octavia　and　Allegra；　both　of　them　subdued　and　frightened　by　the　very　idea　of　discord。　And　across　from　Musica　was　the　triumvirate　of　Guard　leaders：　tall；　fit；　limber　military　males　who　were　now　unified　in　their　anger　as　much　as　in　their　plasm。

Lieutenant　Karno　spoke　for　them。　His　long　hair　was　a　fiery　red；　he　spoke　with　uncharacteristic　anger；　for　a　slave　of　the　Masters。　〃Musica；　it　is　not　your　place　to　decide　how　things　shall　be！〃

Another；　Darsis；　looking　like　Karno's　duplicate；　agreed；