Louie shrugged. "Like I said, I'll ask him directly if that's what you think's best."
Now Dana began to pace. "Why would he purposely conceal data about the REF or the Sentinels? He's already sick of being labeled a hero. If there's anything of worth in the ship's computer, he'd share it."
"Then why hasn't he told us about the voice code?"
Dana recalled his startled reaction to learning that the ship was to be surveyed. She put her hands over her mouth and shook her head.
"We have a second theory," Louie said quietly. "It's possible he's concealing that the ship is foldworthy." He raised his hands before Dana could speak. "The REF may have commanded him to return to Tirol once he had a dear picture of the situation here. He knows that he won't be allowed anywhere near that ship if the truth is revealed."
The words flattened her. Was that why Jonathan had claimed to believe so strongly in her vision—even though she hadn't mentioned anything about the ship? When they made love in his quarters on Denver Base, she had promised herself that she would have no expectations. She wasn't going to add to his confusion or further complicate his life. The physical intimacy they shared was only a prerequisite to intimacy of a
different sort. If they were to be honest with one another about the future, that threshold would have to be crossed.
If there hadn't been an attraction, things might have gone differently. But neither of them could ignore what they felt, and they had acted on those feelings. Now, however, she had a clear and frightening understanding of the position she had put herself in, and she was hopelessly torn.
She screwed her eyes shut and continued to shake her head. "I don't know if I can do this for you, Louie. Things have gotten complicated . . ."
"Then do it for the Tiroleans," he said firmly. "If The Homeward Bound is foldworthy, it's their best shot at going home."
Dana balled up her hands. "That's low, Louie," she growled. "And cruel. If I refuse to pry the code out of him, I'm condemning everyone in camp to death, is that it?"
Louie showed her a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, Dana, I shouldn't have said that. Do whatever you think is right. Maybe if you tell him about the Tiroleans, he'll admit all he knows about the ship. Maybe the two of you can work out a deal. But if he says nothing about the code . . ." Louie shrugged.
Dana sat down on a stump and raised her face to the pine-scented breeze. Years earlier she had played the spy for Rolf by investigating the Giles Academy. But she had no stomach for espionage anymore. Couldn't she simply tell Jonathan that they knew all about the code? Then it would be up to him to decide whether or not to inform the GMP. Given the opportunity, would he return to Tirol? she wondered. To Lynn-Minmei and to all that he claimed to have run from? More to the point, if he chose to remain on Earth, would she be able to leave him—given the opportunity? Or would her concerns for the clones and for her parents overwhelm what she felt for him after only a few short weeks?
"Oh, Louie," she said, finally looking at him. "I wish you hadn't told
me."
General Vincinz and his chiefs of staff were en route to the moon, aboard a twenty-year-old shuttle launched from Denver. At ALUCE, they
were to meet with General Nobutu, to oversee the transfer of nuclear weapons to The Homeward Bound in advance of the Sensor Nebula mission. Weightlessness disagreed with Vincinz, though he enjoyed sending objects like pens and wristwatches wafting through the cabin space.
"Nova Satori's nobody's fool," he was telling the others just now. "When she came to me and casually dropped that little nugget about the Starchildren's plans to launch their ship, she knew from the start that I'd expect payment from the GMP if we were going to do their dirty work."
That dirty work had been carried out by a group of alleged Southern Cross deserters, who had gone to Argentina bearing gifts in the form of two fully armed A-JACs. The group was under orders to delay the launch, without inflicting damage on the ship itself, unless absolutely necessary. The mission couldn't be judged a complete success, inasmuch as two of the saboteurs had been captured and the ship had, in fact, sustained collateral damage in the fire that had spread from the targeted fuel dump. Nevertheless, not only was the ship grounded, but Vincinz could always claim to have done everything in his power to keep the Starchildren from suffering an irredeemable loss.
"I don't like the idea of Satori coming to us," Major Stamp said with candor. "Our willingness to execute the raid makes it appear that we have some special interest in protecting Wolff's ship."
Vincinz encouraged a piece of crumpled notepaper to drift from his open hand. "But that's the beauty of it. Of course we have a special interest in the ship. As the 'militant' faction of the retooled Defense Force, we are required to view The Homeward Bound as essential to Earth's survival in the face of an Invid onslaught. I practically said as much to Fredericks in the same casually meaningful tone Satori later used on me. That's how he got it in his head to use us in the first place."
"So what exactly do we get in exchange for grounding the Starchildren?" Captain Bortuk, the chief of staff, asked.
Vincinz held up two fingers. "First, unobstructed access to the data the Shimadas have promised to provide. And second, Wolff's name is removed
from the shortlist of candidates to command the Nebula mission."
"After the briefing he gave in Denver, there's a lot of people who would love to see him disappear," someone muttered.
"Wolff's a fool, thinking he can wage a guerrilla war against a bunch of XT slugs," Vincinz agreed. "Now more than ever, we need someone like Leonard at the helm. But it's imperative—especially now that Wolff's parade is being rained on—that he be kept away from the ship."
"Tokyo wants us to consider using their robots to man Wolff's ship for the run against the Sensor Nebula," Stamp supplied.
"Which isn't a half-bad idea," Vincinz replied, to everyone's surprise. "When the time comes to commandeer The Homeward Bound, it wouldn't hurt to have the help of a couple of smart machines that have already piloted her."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She would deny it to the last, but Sterling retains vestiges of the Imperative the Robotech Masters coded into the behavior of their warrior clones, the Zentraedi. In Sterling, however, the commingling of Human and Zentraedi genetics has twisted the Imperative into a willfulness, which masqueraded as precociousness in her infancy and toddlerhood, and rebelliousness in pubescence. I predict that, as she approaches full maturity, the Imperative will present in a more overt and dramatic fashion, overwhelming whatever codes of behavior to which she has hitherto adhered. In this sense, she is likely to be exceptionally impetuous, corruptible, manipulative, and self-serving. Though I hasten to add, this does not mean she should be exempted from active duty; to the contrary, she should be considered for high-risk undertakings whenever feasible, so as to encourage the surfacing of her warrior nature.
Lazlo Zand, Event Horizon:
Perspectives on Dana Sterling and the Second Robotech War
"I'm well aware of the dangers posed by this mission," Senator Pauli told the members of the oversight committee. "But I consider it too important a mission to entrust to machines—no matter how allegedly intelligent they are." His gaze was focused on Louie Nichols. "You can tell the Shimadas, thanks, but no thanks. We've decided to go with a human crew on this one."
Louie adjusted the fit of his goggles. "I can appreciate that, Senator. But perhaps you'd be willing to allow one or two of the Shimada machines to participate as observers on the mission?"
Pauli looked to Aldershot, Grass, Fredericks, Satori, and the rest.
"I have no objections to allowing a robot to go along for the ride," Nova said. "Tokyo has been more than accommodating. There are potential military applications for some of the smart machines Shimada's people have
designed. We may even be able to circumvent some of our reliance on Protoculture, vis-à-vis mecha power supply and reconfiguration."
Aldershot's adjutant, Maj
or Sosa, was nodding in agreement. "I find it laudable that some of Tokyo's techs volunteered for the Nebula mission, even though we were constrained to reject the offers."
General Aldershot explained. "As long as Tokyo maintains its isolatory—and in some sense collaborative—stance with regard to the Invid, the Shimadas can't expect to be included in what is essentially a military operation. I will, however, tender my okay to the inclusion of a robot among the Nebula team—but only to serve as a redundant system to The Homeward Bound's on-board computer."
"Exactly how much access to the on-board system will this machine have?" Senator Grass asked—as he had been instructed to by General Vincinz.
Louie answered for the Shimadas. "We're basically interested in evaluating the Nebula, Senator. In the event the nuclear devices fail to have the desired effect."
"So you're talking about having the robot serve as an additional sensor," Aldershot said.
Louie nodded. "I also think it couldn't hurt to have the machine evaluate the performance of the ship's Reflex furnaces. The more data we amass, the easier it's going to be to work toward revitalizing the Protoculture fold generators."
Aldershot considered it, then nodded in understanding. Louie was excused from the meeting. A vote was taken and the proposal was accepted.
"Have the fission bombs been transferred to the ship?" Pauli asked a moment later.
"General Vincinz confirms from ALUCE that we're a go," Nova told the table.
Pauli nodded approvingly. "Well, then, I suppose we need only arrive at a consensus as to our mission commander."
Grass cleared his throat. "I trust that by now we're all in agreement
that Colonel Wolff and his officers and crew should be excluded?"
Fredericks and Nova traded covert glances. Payback time for Vincinz's actions in Argentina, Nova told herself.
"It makes good sense to keep Wolff out of it," Aldershot was saying. "The ship is similar enough in design to our existing frigates and destroyers to be piloted by any Southern Cross commander. And what with Wolff's experience in fighting the Invid, he's critical to our strategic posture."
"How's Wolff taking this?" Pauli put to Alan Fredericks.
Fredericks cleared his throat. "He hasn't been told. But his reaction shouldn't be a factor in our decision. Lang and Reinhardt sent him to help us, not contend with us."
"Then I agree with Senator Grass and General Aldershot that he be excluded," Pauli said, to a chorus of assenting voices.
Fredericks got to his feet with purposeful slowness. "The GMP submits that Dana Sterling is the best choice to oversee the mission."
"Sterling?" Pauli exclaimed. "She isn't even military personnel."
Fredericks inclined his head to one side. "It's true that her recent duties have had more to do with diplomacy than defense, but may I remind the committee that she has handled each assignment with competence and dedication to our common cause. She facilitated our growing rapport with Tokyo, she met with the Zentraedi—when we thought we had need of them—and she has already sat on the bridge of Wolff's ship. More importantly, Lieutenant Satori and I are in agreement that Sterling would meet with near universal approval. As former Southern Cross, she'll satisfy generals Vincinz and Nobutu; the Shimadas seem to have taken a liking to her; and we have reason to believe that even Wolff will support her."
Fredericks didn't need to look at Nova to guess what she was thinking. GMP operatives assigned to Wolff had reported that while Wolff may have encountered rough seas with his estranged wife and son, it had been nothing but smooth sailing with Dana Sterling.
"You make Sterling seem unassailable as a candidate, Colonel," Grass opined when Fredericks had finished. "But her actions during the War were
often as reckless as they were heroic."
"That 'recklessness' has always paid off, Senator," Nova remarked. "Besides, there's one overriding reason for sending her."
Grass and the others waited.
"She's half Zentraedi," Nova said. "For all we know, the Sensor Nebula may respond differently to her than it would to any of us. Perhaps, in addition to seeking out Flower of Life worlds, the Nebula also scans for the presence of enemies of the Invid."
The committee members spent a moment considering it.
"Yes, but based on the very reasons Colonel Fredericks gave for excluding Wolff," Pauli said at last, "can the Defense Force afford to lose Sterling?"
"We can't afford to lose anyone, Senator," Fredericks said, almost offhandedly. "But suffice it to say that we can afford to risk her."
Dana allowed herself to be swept into his embrace, and she returned the kisses he scattered across her lips, cheeks, and neck. But she broke it off when she felt her own passion begin to build. She couldn't make love to him now and do what she had to do. She refused to betray their intimacy in that way. She needed to confront him as honestly as possible and see what course he took.
"I've missed you," he whispered, reluctant to release her.
"I've missed you," she said, and slipped skillfully out of his arms.
His eyes were on her as she entered his quarters on Denver Base. "Have conditions improved at the cabin?" he asked after a moment.
She told him that there hadn't been any deaths since Bowie's alterations to the synthesizer, though neither Dana nor Musica expected their luck to hold. Then, sensing that it was as good a time as any to begin, she added, "A trip home is the only thing that can save them—a return to Tirol."
She watched him out of the corner of her eye, alert to every nuance in his expression. And indeed she identified a subtle rearrangement of his
handsome features. It was as though a shadow had passed over his face. The light went out of his dark eyes. He exited the moment and went into himself. He was weighing something, gauging its import.
"I sympathize with what you're going through, Dana. I only wish there was something I could do." He followed her into the room, but walked past her, mumbling to himself. "Maybe, maybe there's a way . . ."
"What way, Jonathan? We both know the outcome. The clones will die, just as the Zentraedi did."
"If the ship could be retasked . . . I mean, if Louie or the Shimada team were to discover something about the fold generators."
Oh, but they have, she told herself, though she couldn't bring herself to give voice to the thought. So instead she said, "There's something I need to tell you, Jonathan. I wanted you to hear it from me first."
His fine brows beetled as he regarded her. "What, Dana?"
She straightened to her full height. "I've been asked to command the Nebula mission."
Wolff's eyes widened. "What?"
"That's why I'm back in Denver so soon," she said quickly. "Not that my heart has been anywhere but here. But command contacted me this morning, and ordered me to report."
Wolff couldn't control his consternation. When he turned to her, there was something new in his eye: a devilish ruefulness. "So they've taken my ship away from me."
She shook her head. "They haven't taken your ship. It's just that you're too valuable—"
"And you're not?" he snapped. "Earth's foremost celebrity? The half-XT soldier who practically ended the war single-handedly?"
"Jonathan—"
"I'm so valuable they don't even want me to waste my breath talking about the Invid." A sardonic laugh escaped him. "Don't you see what's behind this, Dana? They're worried I'm going to leave."
She swallowed hard. "But how could they think that? You've said all
along that the ship isn't fold capable."
"No, no, of course it isn't," he answered in a distracted voice. "And here's the funny thing: I would have rejected the mission anyway. And you know why, Dana? Because I am too valuable. Or maybe I should say that my work comes first—ahead of anything the GMP or the Southern Cross can concoct."
"Your work?" she asked.
"My personal work." He put his hands in his pockets. "Actually, it's good they don't want to listen to me
. Maybe they'll grant me a discharge. That way I'll be able to concentrate on what's important—getting over Lynn- Minmei and reconciling with my wife and son."
She stared at him. What was going on? It wasn't as if he was saying anything new, but he was saying it in a tone she hadn't heard him use before. An emphatic, almost accusative tone. Was he angry with her? Through with her? Or was he trying to tell her something? . . .
"I haven't accepted the mission," she started to tell him.
He whirled on her with such fury that it startled her. "But you have to accept it! You have to, do you understand me?"
She looked hard at him. "I have something else to tell you—something I haven't told anyone. When I met with the Zentraedi on the factory satellite, they informed me that our mission was a waste of time. There's no way to destroy the Sensor Nebula, Jonathan. And even if we manage to disrupt or disperse the cloud, it'll be too late. The Nebula has communicated with the Invid. They'll come, no matter what we do."
"It's not too late," he countered. "You're going to take the word of a group of dying Zentraedi? You have to accept the mission."
She exhaled in weary confusion. "Why couldn't Lang have surprised us by making the ship foldworthy—despite what he told you." Deliberately, she locked eyes with him.
He held her gaze for a protracted moment: uncertain, then angry, then sad. Finally he breathed deeply and smiled wanly, at once disappointed and relieved. "Imagine what a fool I'd look like," he said elaborately, "after
insisting to everyone that The Homeward Bound was here to stay." Dana tried hard to decipher his look and his words.
"But you're right," he went on, turning his back to her. "Lang shouldn't have sent me home with an imperfect ship. It's crucial that we communicate with the SDF-3. All of our efforts should be directed to that end. Vincinz and Aldershot have their minds made up about how to deal with the Regis, and it'll be the death of all of us."
Before the Invid Storm Page 14
