18_the_end_of_the_circle- 第40部分

As　he　caught　up　with　her　in　the　passageway；　Karen　spun　on　her　boot　heel；　tapping　her　toe；　arms　crossed；　features　posed　in　heavy　weather　warnings。　〃Make　it　brief；　Jack。〃

He　trotted　to　a　stop；　feeling　something　that　would　have　been　akin　to　deja　vu　if　he　had　not　known　exactly　where　he'd　felt　it　before：　every　time　they　had　squabbled；　disagreed；　clashed；　or　vied　for　the　upper　hand。

〃Aah；　it's　no　big　thing。　Just　thought　we　could　hit　the　mess　if　you　want　some　pany　for　dinner。〃

She　was　not　looking　any　kindlier。　〃Don't　you　want　to　find　out　what's　going　on　at　the　meeting？〃

〃You　mean　what　went　on；　I　heard　it's　just　breaking　up。　But　by　the　time　we　grab　a　bite；　there'll　probably　be　an　intel　summary　we　can　get　a　peek　at。〃

Her　eyes　narrowed。　〃Then　maybe　stop　for　one　or　two　at　the　officers'　club？　Possibly　a　dance？〃

Actually；　that　was　just　what　he　had　in　mind。　He　answered　warily；　〃Why；　is　there　something　wrong　with　that？〃

〃Hah！　Honestly；　Baker；　there're　cockpit　canopies　harder　to　see　through　than　you　are！〃

〃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。