09_the_final_nightmare-第34部分

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prehensibility　of　it；　had　kept　her　from　considering　it　seriously。

The　troopers　gathered　around　Musica　and　saw　what　was　going　on。　There　were　many　ships；　drifting　close　by　because　the　Masters'　new　flagship　hadn't　finished　its　waste　disposal　yet；　every　viewport　and　dome　in　the　inert　bat　vessels　out　there　was　crammed　with　motionless；　seemingly　sleeping　clones。

Louie　Nichols　looked　out　at　it　all　and　thought；　as　his　stomach　turned；　of　an　animal　gnawing　its　own　leg　off　to　escape　a　trap's　iron　teeth。　What　the　Masters　had　done　was　infinitely　worse。　God；　it's　all　stripped　away！　passion。。。mercy。

The　pure　intellect　and　the　rational　organization　of　society…this　is　where　they　point。　Dana　was　right。　He　teetered　a　little；　then　caught　his　balance；　and　looked　around　to　see　if　anyone　else　had　noticed。　But　they　were　all　transfixed。

Nova　Satori　looked　out　at　the　sight；　rocked　with　surprise　at　herself　because；　until　this　awful　moment；　she　had　never　really　been　able　to　bring　herself　to　think　of　the　aliens　as　Human　beings。　She　had　never　thought　of　them　as　creatures　with　souls；　all　Zor's　appeal　and　powers　of　persuasion　aside。　But　she　gazed　upon　genocide　and　knew　she　had　been　blinding　herself。　It　hadn't　taken　so　very　much　ordi…psych　indoctrination　or　so　very　many　pep　talks　from　Supreme　mander　Leonard　and　Colonel　Fredericks　to　set　her　attitudes　in　concrete。

Now；　though；　those　were　wiped　away。　There　were　people　out　there　who　needed　rescue。

There　were　other　castaways；　set　adrift　in　spacesuits　and　smaller　craft。　Now　why　didn't　those　Masters　just　space　'em？　a　practical　side　of　Angelo　wondered。　Why　leave　'em　safe　and　sound；　as　it　were？　Maybe　the　Masters　meant　to　e　back　and　reclaim　their　slaves；　if　the　Masters　won。

But　the　ATACs　intended　to　see　to　it　that　the　Masters　didn't　win。　〃Are　they　alive？〃　Bowie　asked；　gripping　Musica　by　the　shoulders。

〃Yes；　but　doomed。　Cut　off　from　the　Protoculture　and　the　Masters'　will。〃

And　from　the　music　of　the　Cosmic　Harp；　she　admitted　to　herself。　The　Cosmic　Harp　was　nowhere　to　be　found；　perhaps　it　had　been　destroyed　in　the　first　flagship。　She　was　cut　off　from　it　forever；　a　pain　as　sharp　as　any　physical　wound。

〃A　rescue　mission　would　be　just　about　impossible；〃　Louie　said　in　his　best　mechie；　nonmittal　voice。　But　within；　he　was　plotting　his　own　personal　vector　along　new　grids；　and　changing　parallax。　There　were　more　spacecraft　in　the　mother　ship。　Maybe；　sometimes；　trying　the　impossible　is　the　whole　point。　〃Maybe　we　can〃

Musica　cut　him　off。　〃Allegra！　Octavia！　My　sisters　are　nearby！〃　Her　eyes　rolled　up　so　that　only　the　whites　showed；　and　Bowie　had　to　bear　her　up。

He　held　her　close；　so　that　he　breathed　her　sweet　breath；　almost　tasted　it。　〃Are　they　alive？〃


Blue…haired　Allegra；　sundered　from　the　harmonies　upon　which　she　and　her　Muse　sisters　had　lived　as　upon　food；　drink；　and　the　air　they　breathed；　found　a　troubling　and　yet　forting　new　orchestration　in　ministering　to　those　around　her　who　were　suffering。　She　hadn't　known　she　knew　how　to　do　it；　and　yet　the　harmonies　assured　her；　conducted　her　through　every　movement。

Now　she　was　cooling　the　brow　of　a　feverish　stonemason　clone　with　a　damp　cloth；　feeling　Octavia's　gaze　upon　her。

Allegra；　kneeling　there　by　the　stone　bench　that　had　been　made　a　sickbed；　said；　〃His　bio…index　has　fallen　too　low；　and　his　own　reserves　are　gone。　I'm　afraid　there　is　no　hope　for　him。〃　The　clone　was　pale　white；　sweat　slick　along　his　face　and　neck；　long　hair　damp　and　clinging；　and　yet　his　skin　was　cold。

But　Octavia　told　Allegra；　〃There　is　always　hope！〃　and　wondered　where　the　certainty；　the　rightness　of　the　words　that　made　them　a　new　harmony；　had　e　from。　All　the　old　certainties　had　been　burnt　away；　but　in　the　ashes　she　was　finding　bright；　warming　determination　that　had　yet　to　find　its　form。

Allegra　looked　at　her　dubiously。　〃I　wish　Musica　would　e。〃　They　sensed　that　she　was　near；　ever　the　centerpiece　and　the　wellspring　of　their　power。

〃Without　the　eternal　Song　of　Musica's　Harp；〃　the　stonemason　clone　who　rested　under　Octavia's　dove…gentle　hand　said；　〃I　have　no　will　left　to　live。〃

How　much　harder　do　you　think　it　is　for　me？　she　thought。

〃You　must　not　say　that！〃　Octavia　found　that　her　voice　had　bee　harsh；　a　manding　note　a　Clonemaster　might　use；　or　even　a　Robotech　Master。　〃We　must　learn　to　live　on　our　own。〃

The　words　and　the　very　wisdom　of　them　had　e　unbidden。　Suddenly　there　was　a　current　of　awareness　in　the　big　holding　chamber；　which　lifted　the　clones'　lassitude　and　fed　power　back　to　her。　Some　shackle　she　had　never　felt；　even　though　it　had　confined　her　life　and　her　art；　had　been　broken。　But　the　rightness　of　what　she　had　said　was　a　clarity　that　she　couldn't　deny　or　stifle；　a　pureness　of　a　profound　inner　music　she　had　never　heard　before。

A　tech　clone　stood　up　next　to　his　pallet；　nearby。　Weaving　as　he　stood；　he　got　out；　〃We　know　nothing　of　the　Dead　Life；　the　Life　of　the　One。　We　only　know　the　triumvirates；　and　now　the　triumvirates　are　no　more。〃

Octavia　didn't　realize　she　was　moving；　as　she　stood　up　and　gathered　her　half…shawl；　the　words　flowing　to　her　as　notes　from　same　new；　unsuspected　song。　〃Then　it's　time　for　us　all　to　learn　a　new　way　to　live。　Musica　is　willing　to　stand　on　her　own　two　feet　and　survive。〃

Whence　e　these　thoughts？　she　belabored　herself；　brain　roiling。　Perhaps　some　had　been　transferred　to　her　by　the　link　with　Musica；　and　there　was　the　breakdown　of　the　Masters'　power；　the　depletion　of　the　Protoculture；　and　the　silence　of　the　Cosmic　Harp。　The　suspect　sources　were　many。

But　the　central　melody　of　it；　Octavia　somehow　knew；　came　from　within：　a　music　long　subsumed　by　the；　narrow；　repetitive　themes　the　Masters　had　forced　the　Muses　to　play。

〃We　still　may　be　rescued；　or　save　ourselves；〃　Allegra　added。　Octavia　was　shocked　at　first；　but　then　felt　more　sisterly　to　her　than　she　ever　had。

But　Allegra's　patient　hiked　himself　up　on　his　elbows；　feverish；　to　say　as　if　in　some　fortune…telling　trance；　〃Even　if　we　are　rescued；　who　among　us　could　live　a　life　so　forlorn？　A　life　where　the　triumvirates　are　broken　apart？　We　are　parts；　we　are　not　whole！〃

Octavia　didn't　know　how　to　answer　that；　exactly；　she　hadn't　the　right　words　in　her　vocabulary；　or　the　right　notes　in　her　music。

And　yet；　bringing　all　her　will　to　bear；　she　knew　in　a　revelation　as　bright　as　a　mountain　sunrise　that　he　was　wrong。


From　Earth　rose　every　remnant　of　its　military　striking　power。　Nothing　that　could　conceivably　reach　the　approaching　Masters　was　left　behind；　men　and　women　readied　for　battle　and　took　strength　from　a　source　greater　than　the　Protoculture。

They　were　willing　to　die　for　their　families　and　children　and　planet；　if　that　be　the　price；　so　long　as　the　Masters　died　as　well。　And　if　the　Masters　meant　to　end　life　on　the　planet；　then　all；　invader　and　defender；　would　die　alike。

The　beings　who　had　ruled　galaxies；　and　meant　to　rule　all　the　Universe；　wouldn't　have　understood　that　sense　of　fatalism　no　matter　how　it　was　phrased。

Again；　that　terrible　Human　advantage　had　e　into　play。　The　Masters　proceeded；　as　they　always　had；　upon　logical　conclusions；　the　creatures　Earth　had　bred　rose　up；　in　a　manner　that　swept　those　calculations　away；　to　stand　and　fight。

Just　then　a　minor　subentity；　an　artificial　intelligence　construct　of　the　Protoculture　cap；　reported　to　the　Masters　that　there　was　no　rational　explanation　as　to　why　these　creatures　had　not　either　totally　destroyed　themselves；　or　bee　a　slave　culture　（a　stagnant　one；　the　subentity　would　have　pointed　out；　if　the　Masters　had　created　it　to　be　more　candid）　like　the　Robotech　Masters'　clones。　The　concept　of　a　third　alternative　had　simply　never　been　considered　before。

Zor；　Zor。。。you　sent　your　dimensional　fortress　to　no　random　world！　Earth　was　a　deliberate　choice　for　the　centerpiece　of　this　great　War；　wasn't　it？　Some　least…constrained　part　of　the　Masters'　unified　consciousness　whispered　the　insight；　a　death…dry　croak　that　sent　panic　all　through　them　and　made　the　cap　pulse　like　an　alarm　beacon。

Then　they　had　it　back　under　control　again；　and　themselves　as　well。　〃The　Micronian　fleet　is　advancing；　m'lords；〃　Jeddar　said；　head　bowed　low；　frightened　by　his　own　boldness　in　interrupting　them　but　frightened　even　more　by　the　long　barracuda　shapes　of　the　Terran　warships。

Then　Shaizan；　Dag；　and　Bowkaz　were　alert　once　more；　eyes　so　bright　that　it　seemed　rays　of　divine　wrath　might　shoot　forth。　The　Masters　had　shaken　off　or　put　down　every　misgiving。　If　there　was　some　small　voice　within　their　munal　mind　that　persisted　in　faint；　tormented　murmurs　of　mortality；　it　was　altogether　drowned　out　in　their　drumming　mental　din　of　conquest。

Or　at　least；　almost　altogether；　none　of　the　three　would　dare　admit　he　heard　it。

Shaizan　sent　out　the　mand；　〃Let　half　of　our　remaining　attack　forces　go　forth　to　engage　this　enemy　fleet。　The　remainder　will　descend　to　the　planet　and　retrieve　the　Protoculture　Matrix。〃

The　other　mother　ships　were　all　but　useless；　as　were　the　bat　craft　arid　clones　aria　mecha　remaining　to　them。　But　the　Protoculture　cap　told　them　the　resources　still　available　to　the　Masters　in　their　flagship　would　more　than　suffice。

As　long　as　the　Matrix　was　recovered；　any　and　all　losses　suffered　would　be　negligible。　But　if　the　mission　failed；　such　sacrifices　would　be　immaterial：　the　Robotech　Masters　themselves　would　have　no　hope　of　survival。

Shaizan　touched　the　Protoculture　cap　again；　so　that　the　Masters　were　gazing　down　on　a　scene　of　the　three　mounds　near　Monument　City。　Sensors　indicated　that　the　aura　of　protection　generated　by　the　guardian　wraiths　below　was　weakening。　As　the　energy　of　the　last　Matrix　began　to　fail；　the　powers　of　the　wraiths　diminished。　There　was　yet　a　tiny；　unique　window　of　opportunity。　The　Protoculture　cap　had　already　gotten　a　precise　fix　on　the　Matrix's　location；　like　seeking　out　like；　across　the　negligible　distance　between　planet　and　space。

Shaizan　had　activated　another　mechanism。　Like　magic；　a　circular　gap　appeared　in　the　deck　behind　them；　and　from　it　rose　a　glassy　sphere　a　yard　in　diameter。　They　turned　to　regard　it。

Within　it　was　the　last　major　Protoculture　mass　left　to　them；　not　a　Matrix　that　could　perpetuate　itself　and　spawn　other　Matrices；　but　still　a　power　source　of　vast　potency。　It　was　a　tangled　collection　of　vegetable…lookin