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标 题: Robotech: Genesis CHAPTER TWO
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (2001年12月18日12:30:50 星期二), 转信
CHAPTER TWO
I suppose, in the back of my mind, I was aware that fate had sent my way a c
hance to be mentioned in the same breath with Einstein, Newton, and the rest
. But to tell the truth, I thought little of that. Before the lure of so muc
h new knowledge, any scientist would've made poor old Faust look like a sain
t.
Dr. Emil Lang, Technical Recordings and Notes
Roy and the others emptied their weapons to no avail. The looming weapon han
d swung to a new target as they ducked, switching their turned-and-taped dou
ble magazines around to lock and load a fresh one.
A second stream of superheated brilliance blazed, and another marine was inc
inerated.
Roy realized the radio was useless; it was in Hersch's rucksack, and he'd ju
st been fried. Roy turned, spotted the RPG rocket launcher dropped by the fi
rst victim, and made a dive for it.
The gunnery sergeant gave him a look of misgiving but kept his peace. Firing
the weapon might be suicidal for a number of reasons, including secondary e
xplosions from their attacker, but Roy saw no other options; their escape wa
s cut off, and there was no cover worthy of the name.
The RPG was already loaded. Roy peered through the sights, centering the ret
icle, and fired at the thing's midsection, where two segments met. The resul
ting explosion split the metal monster in half; it toppled, venting raging e
nergy. The secondary blast knocked Roy off his feet.
He lost consciousness for a second but came to, momentarily deafened, with t
he gunny shaking him. Roy managed to read his lips: "It's still alive!"
Blearily Roy followed the pointing finger. It was true: Segments of the shat
tered behemoth were rocking and jouncing; those that had some articulation w
ere trying to drag themselves toward the intruders. Other pieces were firing
occasional beams, most of which splashed off the faraway ceiling.
The gunny got Roy to his feet and began dragging him around the remains in w
hat seemed like the direction from which they'd come. Even though he couldn'
t hear, Roy could feel heavy vibrations in the deck. He turned and found a s
econd monster approaching. He couldn't figure out how the first one had come
upon them so silently, and he didn't wait around to find out.
The thing halted by the smoldering debris of the first as Roy staggered off
behind the gunny.
"... remember coming through here," Roy dimly heard the gunny say when they
paused after what seemed like a year of tottering along the deck. Evidently,
the gunny had covered his ears to avoid the rocket's impact; he was listeni
ng as well as looking for more enemies.
"Neither do I," Roy said wearily. "But all our other routes were blocked."
"They could've polished us all off, Lieutenant," the gunny said.
Roy shook his head, just as confused as the marine. "Maybe they're herding u
s along somewhere; I dunno."
They took up their way again. Roy's hearing was coming back, accompanied by
a painful ringing. "Maybe they don't want to kill all of us because-"
The gunny screamed a curse. Roy looked down to see that the deck plates were
rippling around their legs like a running stream, engulfing them.
Gloval gripped his automatic resolutely. "Are you getting all this on the vi
deo, Dr. Lang?"
Lang put his palm to his forehead. "Yes, but those shapes keep shifting... g
ets me dizzy just looking..."
"Kinda like... vertigo..." T.R. Edwards added.
Gloval was feeling a little queasy himself. He called a halt for a breather,
sending Edwards to peer into the next compartment. Gloval watched Lang worr
iedly; with the arrival of the alien ship, Lang became the most indispensabl
e man on the planet. Lang must be kept safe at all costs, and the fact that
Gloval couldn't raise Roy's party or the outside world on the radio had the
captain skittish.
Edwards was back in moments, face as white as his teeth. "You'd better brace
yourselves." Edwards swallowed with difficulty. "I found Murphy, but-it's a
little hard to take." He swallowed again to keep from vomiting.
One by one they went to join him at the entrance to the next compartment, fr
om which an intense fight shone. Lang caught the edge of the hatch to steady
himself when he saw what was there.
In a large translucent tank wired with various life support systems floated
the various pieces of Lance Corporal Murphy in a tiny sea of sluggish nutrie
nt fluid.
They drifted lazily, here an arm, there the head-sightless eyes wide open-a
severed hand bumping gently against the stripped torso. The fluid was filled
with fine strands glowing in incandescent greens. Tiny amoebalike globules
flocked to the body parts and away from them again, feeding and providing ox
ygen and removing wastes.
Gloval turned to the marine behind him. "Establish security! Whoever did thi
s may still be around." The men shook off their paralysis and rushed to obey
.
All, that is, but one, who was about to pluck out a leg by a white, wrinkled
foot that had bobbed to the surface. "We can't leave 'im like this!" Throug
h the grinding war, the marines had maintained their honor and their high tr
aditions proudly; esprit de corps was like the air they breathed. To leave o
ne of their own on the battlefield was to leave a part of themselves.
But Lang pulled the grunt back with surprising strength. "Don't touch him! W
ho knows what the solution is? You want to end up pickled in there too? No?
Good! Then just draw a specimen with this device and be careful!"
Gloval, carefully gauging the alien topography to keep his mind-and eyes-off
Murphy's parts, determined that his suspicions were true: The internal layo
ut of the place was changing around them. There was no way back.
He quickly formed up his little command and got them moving, grimly satisfie
d that Edwards wasn't so cocky anymore.
Moments later, as the party moved through a darkened area, he felt a marine
tug at his shoulder. "Cap'n! There's a-"
And all hell broke loose as armored behemoths set upon Gloval's group from t
he rear, blasting and trying to stamp the puny humans into the deck.
One marine gave the beginning of a shriek and then blew into fragments, the
moisture in his tissues instantaneously converted to steam, the scraps of fl
esh vaporized in the alien's beam.
The humans cut loose with all weapons, including a man-portable recoilless r
ifle and a light machine gun whose drum magazine was loaded with Teflon semi
-armorpiercers. A second marine was cremated almost instantly.
They had better luck than Roy's team in that the machine gunner and the RR m
an both happened to aim for the lead monster's firing hand and were lucky en
ough to find a vulnerable point, blowing it off.
The fortress's guardian staggered and shook as the fire set off secondary ex
plosions. "Gloval! In here!" screamed Edwards, standing at the human-size ha
tch to a side compartment. The survivors dashed to it, crowding in, two of t
he marines hauling Lang between them while the doctor continued recording th
e scene as the injured machine-thing shot flame and smoke and flying shrapne
l through the air.
"We can hold 'em off from here-for now," Edwards said, throwing aside a spen
t pair of magazines and inserting a fresh one in his Ingrain MAC-35.
"Concentrate fire on anything that approaches that door," Gloval told the ma
rines, and turned to survey the rest of the compartment. It was quite tiny b
y the standards of the wreck: Perhaps eight paces on a side, with no other e
xit.
Lang was shaken but in control, willing his hands to be steady as he took wh
at videos he could of the scene in the outer compartment. Gloval was about t
o command him to get back out of the line of fire when the floor began to mo
ve.
"Hey! Who pushed the up button?" Edwards shouted, pale again.
"Security wheel!" Gloval bellowed. "Doctor Lang in the center!"
Lang was thrust into the middle of the rising elevator platform as the other
s put their backs against him, weapons pointed out before them. The ceiling
was about to crush them, but suddenly it rippled like water, letting them pa
ss through. They came up into a brighter place and heard a familiar voice.
"Well, well. 'Bout time you guys got here."
"Roy!" The lieutenant stood leaning against a stanchion in the most immense
chamber they'd seen yet, lit as bright as day.
When stories were exchanged, Gloval said, "All right, then, we've been herde
d here. But why?"
Lang pointed to a bridgelike structure enclosed by a transparent bowl, high
to the stern end of the compartment. It was big but seemingly built to human
scale.
"I'm betting that is the ship's nerve center, skipper, and that is the capta
in's station."
"It's our best shot, so we shall try it," Gloval decided, "but you stay with
the main body, my good doctor, and let Roy go first."
"What an honor." Edwards grinned at Roy.
Zor's quarters were as he had left them, so long ago and far away. The sleep
module, the work station, and the rest were built to human scale and functi
on. Lang stared around himself as if in a dream.
Despite the many objects and installations that were impossible to identify,
there was a certain comprehensibility to the place: here, a desk unit, ther
e, a screen of some kind.
Roy, Gloval, and the others were so fascinated that they didn't notice what
Lang was doing until they heard the pop and crisp of static.
"Lang, you fool! Get away from there!"
But before Gloval could tear him away from the console, Lang had somehow dis
covered how to activate it. Waves of distortion chased each other across the
screen, then a face appeared among the wavering lines.
Gloval's grip on Lang's jacket became limp. "Good God... it's human!"
"Not quite, perhaps, but close, I would say," Lang conceded calmly.
Zor's face stared out of the screen. The wide, almond eyes seemed to look at
each man in the compartment, and the mouth spoke in a melodious, chiming la
nguage unlike anything the humans had ever heard before.
"It's a `greetings' recording," Lang said matter-of-factly.
"Like those plates and records on the old Voyagers," Roy murmured.
The alien's voice took on a different tone, and another image flashed on the
screen. The humans found themselves looking at an Invid shock trooper in ac
tion, firing and rending.
"Some kind of war machine. Nasty," Lang interpreted.
As the others watched the image, Roy touched Gloval's shoulder and said, "Ca
ptain, I think we'd better get out of here."
"But how? This blasted ship keeps rearranging itself."
"Look!" cried Edwards, pointing. The deck rippled as a newcomer rose up thro
ugh it. All weapons came to bear on it except Lang's; the doctor was dividin
g his attention between what was going on and the continuing message on the
screen.
A familiar form stood before them. "It's the drone robot, the one that broke
down," the gunny said.
Edwards's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, but how could it have followed us?"
"It appears to be functioning again," Gloval said. "Maybe we can use it to c
ontact the base."
Lang crossed to the robot, which waited patiently. He opened a rear access c
owling and went to inspect the internal parts there, then snatched his hands
back as if he'd been bitten.
They all crowded around warily, ready to blast the machine to bits. "This is
n't the original circuitry," Lang said, sounding interested but not frighten
ed. "The components are reshaping themselves."
As they stared, wires writhed and microchips changed like a miniaturized urb
an renewal project seen from above by time-lapse photography. Things slid, f
olded, altered shape and position. It reminded Roy of an unlikely cross betw
een a blossoming flower and those kids' games where the player slides alphan
umeric tiles around into new sequences.
"Perhaps it's been sent here to lead us out," Gloval suggested.
"But why'd the other gizmos attack?" Edwards objected.
Lang shrugged. "Who knows what damage the systems have suffered? Perhaps the
attacks are a result of a malfunction. Certainly, the message we just saw w
as intended as a warning, which implies good intentions."
"But what's it all mean, Doc?" Roy burst out.
Lang looked to him. "It means Earth may be in for more visitors, I think. Lo
ts more."
"All right, all of you: Get ready," Gloval said. "If we can get the drone to
lead us, we'll take a chance on it. We've no alternative."
While the others readied themselves, dividing up the remaining ammunition, r
eloading the last two rocket launchers, and listening to Gloval direct their
order of march, Lang went back to the screen console.
He had been right; this was the ship's nerve center, and the console and its
peripherals were the nucleus of it all. Lang began form-function analysis,
fearing that he would never get another chance to study it.
Certainly, the ship used no source of power that he could conceive of. Some
uncanny alien force coursed through the fallen ship and through the console.
Perhaps if he could get some data on it or get access to it...
At Lang's cry they all turned with guns raised, as strobing light threw thei
r shadows tall against the bulkheads. The command center flashed and flowed
with power like an unearthly network of electronic blood vessels.
The console was surrounded by a blinding aurora of harsh radiance that pulse
d through the spectrum. Lang, body convulsed in agony, holding fast to the c
onsole, shone with those same colors as the enigmatic forces flooding into h
im.
"Don't touch him-!" Gloval barked at Roy, who'd been about to attempt a body
check to knock Lang clear. Edwards moved to one side, well out of range of
the discharges, to get a line of fire on the console that wouldn't risk hitt
ing Lang. Edwards made sure his selector was on full auto and prepared to em
pty the magazine into the console.
But before he could, the alien lightning died away. Lang slumped slowly to t
he deck.
"Captain, the robby's leaving!" The gunny pointed to where the deck was star
ting to ripple around the drone's feet.
There was no time for caution. Roy slung Lang over his shoulder, hoping the
man wasn't radioactive or something else contagious. In another moment they
were all ranged around the robot, sinking through the floor.
Air and matter and space seemed to shift around them. Lang was stirring on R
oy's shoulder, and Roy was getting a better grip on him, distracted, when on
e of the marines hollered, "Tell me I'm not seein' this!"
The ship had changed again, or they were in a different place. And they were
gazing at the remains of a giant.
It was something straight out of legend. The skeleton was still wearing a un
iform that was obviously immune to decay. It also wore a belt and harness af
fair fitted with various devices and pouches. But for the fact that it would
've stood some fifty feet tall, it could have been human.
The jaw was frozen open in an eternal rictus of agony and death; an area the
size and shape of a poker table was burned through the back of its uniform,
fringed by blackened fabric. Much of the skeletal structure in the wound's
line of fire was gone.
"Musta been some scrap," a marine said quietly, knowingly.
Lang was struggling, so Roy let him down. "Are you all right, Doc-"
Roy gaped at him. Lang's eyes had changed, become all dark, deep pupil with
no iris and no white at all. He had the look of a man in rapture, gazing aro
und himself with measureless approval.
"Yes, yes," Lang said, nodding in comprehension. "I see!"
There was no time to find out just what it was he saw, because the robot was
in motion again. Roy took Lang in tow, and they moved out, only to round a
corner and come face to face with two more of the armored guardians.
The gunny, walking point right behind the robby with one of the RPG launcher
s, let fly instantly, and the machine gunner and the other RPG man cut loose
too as the red lines of tracers arced and rebounded of the bright armor.
INTERLUDE
Listen, take the Bill of Rights, the Boy Scout oath, and the Three Laws of R
obotics and stick 'em where there's no direct dialing, jerk! "Good" is anyth
ing that helps me stay at the top; "bad" is whatever doesn't, got it?
Senator Russo to his reelection committee treasurer
"And, in brief," Admiral Hayes finished, "Captain Gloval's party made it bac
k out of the ship with no further casualties, although they encountered extr
emely heavy resistance."
Senator Russo puffed on his cigar, considering the report. "And Doctor Lang?
"
"Seems to be all right," Hayes said. "They wanted to keep him under observat
ion for a while, but he's absolutely determined to resume research on the al
ien vessel. And you know Lang."
Indeed. Earth's foremost genius, the man to whom they would all have to look
now for crucial answers, made his own rules.
"I should add one more part of the after-mission report that I still find it
difficult to credit," Hayes grudged. "Captain Gloval estimates, and his and
the others' watches corroborate this, that they were inside the ship for so
me six hours."
Russo blew a smoke ring. "So?"
Hayes scratched his cheek reflectively. "According to the guards posted outs
ide the ship and their watches, Gloval and the others were only gone for app
roximately fifteen minutes." He sat down again at the conference table.
Russo, at the head of the table, thought that over. He knew Hayes was too me
thodical an officer to include a claim like that in his report without havin
g checked it thoroughly.
Senator Russo was a florid-faced, obese little man with a gratingly false-he
arty manner and a pencil mustache. He had fat jowls and soft white hands bea
ring pinkie rings. He also had a brilliant tailor, a marvelous barber, and e
nough political clout to make him perhaps the most important figure in the e
merging world government.
Now, he looked around the top-secret conference room aboard the Kenosha. "Wh
oever sent this vessel may come to retrieve it. Or someone else might."
He broke into an unctuous smile. "If something like this hadn't come along,
we'd've had to invent it! It's perfect!"
The other power mongers gathered there nodded, sharing the sly smile, their
eyes alight with ambition.
The timing of the crash was indeed astounding. Not a month before, these sam
e men had been part of a group that had met to lay the groundwork for one of
the most treacherous plots in history. It's true they were confronting the
ultimate crisis-the likelihood that the human race would destroy itself. But
their solution was not the most benign, just the one that would be most pro
fitable for them.
They'd been intent on creating an artificial crisis, something that would st
op the war and unite humanity under their leadership. A number of promising
scenarios had been developed, including epidemics, worldwide crop failure, a
nd a much less spectacular version of the very thing that had taken place in
Earth's atmosphere and on Macross Island.
Russo's smile was close to a leer. "Gentlemen, I don't believe I'm being pre
sumptuous when I say this is destiny at work! The blindest fool can see that
mankind must band together."
Under our rule, was the unstated subtext. Russo saw that the true power brok
ers there understood, while Hayes and a few other idealistic dupes were almo
st teary-eyed with dedication and courage. Suckers...
It had never really mattered to the power brokers what side they served, of
course; the ideologies and historical causes of the Global Civil War meant l
ittle or nothing to them. Russo and others like him had given those mere lip
service.
The important thing was to use the opportunity, to gain prestige and power.
Russo had joined the Internationalists-the world peace and disarmament movem
ent-because they offered personal opportunity. If they hadn't, he'd have thr
own in with the factionalists without a qualm, so long as they promised him
a route to power.
Hayes was saying, "We must act with all possible speed, throw every availabl
e resource into understanding the science behind that ship, into rebuilding
it, and using this amazing `Robotechnology,' as Doctor Lang insists on calli
ng it."
Absolutely beautiful! Russo thought. An enormous tax-supported defense proje
ct, more expensive and more massive than anything in human history! The oppo
rtunities for profit would be incalculable. In the meantime, the military co
uld be kept distracted and obedient, and all political power would be consol
idated. More, this incredible Robotechnology business would ensure that the
new world government would be absolutely unchallengeable.
Russo frowned for a moment, considering Hayes again: good soldier, obedient
and conscientious, but a plodding sort of fellow (which was Russo's personal
shorthand for someone prone to be honest).
Yes, Hayes might present a problem somewhere down the road-say, once Earth w
as rebuilt and unified and ready to be brought to heel, when it was time to
make sure that those in power stayed there for good.
But there would be ways to deal with that. For example, didn't Hayes have a
teenage daughter? Ah, yes. Russo recalled her now: a rather plain, withdrawn
little thing, as the senator remembered. Lisa.
In any case, there'd be plenty of time to neutralize Hayes and those like hi
m once they'd served their purpose. Have to keep an eye on that Lang, too.
But this Colonel Edwards, now; he seemed to be a bright young fellow-knew wh
ich side his bread was buttered on. He was already passing secret informatio
n to Russo and keeping tabs on Gloval and the others. Edwards would definite
ly have his uses.
"Let's have Doctor Lang, eh?" Senator Russo proposed.
Lang came in, lean and pale, emitting an almost tangible energy and purpose.
The strange, whiteless eyes were unsettling to look at.
"Well, Doctor," Russo said heartily. "We've had a miracle dropped from heave
n, eh? But we want you to give us the straight gospel: Can that ship be rebu
ilt?"
Lang looked at him as if he were seeing Russo for the first time-as if Russo
had interrupted Lang during some higher contemplation, as, of course, he ha
d.
"Rebuild it? But of course we will; what else did you think we would do?" It
sounded as though he had doubts about Russo's sanity, which was mutual.
Before Russo could say anything, Lang continued. "But you used the word `mir
acle.' I suppose that may be true, but I want to tell all of you something t
hat Captain Gloval said to me when we finally fought our way out of the ship
."
He waited a dramatic moment, as his whiteless eyes seemed to take in the who
le conference room and look beyond.
"Gloval said, `This will save the human race from destroying itself, Doctor,
and that makes it a kind of miracle. But history and legend tell us that mi
racles bear a heavy price."'
--
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