He snapped the lid closed and gave the box an underhand toss toward her outstretched hands. He couldn't see her face well enough to judge her reaction, and for a moment the silence unnerved him. But when she spoke, he was certain there was no insincerity in her voice.
"Rick, I don't know if I can accept this. Really..."
"I want you to have it, Minmei. It-it says what I can't say to you. Please, keep it."
She held the box to her cheek. "It's beautiful, and I love it." Rick smiled. "Happy birthday."
She blew him a kiss and waved good night.
Rick waited until the lights went out, then walked the quiet streets of Macross City. It was peaceful and pleasant. Dogs barked in the distance and laughter filtered out of open doorways. It was almost like real life.
CHAPTER NINE
There are so many wonderful things going on in my life, it's sometimes hard to believe it can continue like this. But what would the people of Macross City think of me if I announced to them that getting stuck in the fold and landing out here in deep space was one of the greatest things that ever happened to me? Aunt Lena and Uncle Max's restaurant is really happening; even the mayor comes to eat there. I have three complete songs written: "My Boyfriend's a Pilot," "Stagefright," and "To Love." My dance instructor and my voice coach tell me that I'm making excellent progress, and I'm actually even thinking of sending in an application for the Miss Macross pageant. But I know that I could never be accepted! That is just too wild a dream to come true-even for me!...The only rough spot in my life right now is Rick, and I can't figure out what to do about him. I owe him my life, for real; but he wants me to be something I can never be: a loyal girlfriend, maybe someone who would be content to live in his shadow. But I have shadows of my own to cast!
From the diary of Lynn-Minmei
As the mayor of Macross City, Tommy Luan had a lot to deal with. For a long time after the spacefold he harbored a fear that the population was one day going to wake from the collective shock of the experience and he'd have a mass riot on his hands. But that never came about. It was probably an indication of how inured the human race had become to tragedy; ten years of global war had started it, and the arrival of the SDF-1 from deep space, carrying with it evidence of extraterrestrial life forms, had sealed it. But in any case the residents of Macross City were a breed apart from the start.
Tommy Luan had been part of the second wave of newcomers to arrive on Macross Island. The first consisted mainly of scientific and military representatives from the newly formed World Unification Alliance, Dr. Lang
and his group, Gloval, Fokker, Colonel Edwards, and others from the supercarrier Kenosha. Then there followed the decision to attempt a construction of the ship- "the Visitor," as it was called-and this brought in the numerous tech teams who were really Macross City's founding fathers. Luan was one of these. His background was construction-immense projects: bridges, skyscrapers, hospitals-no job was too large. But the Global Civil War had put an end to an unprecedented period of growth in the building trades, and like far too many others Luan was on the skids and looking for a job. He applied for a position on the Macross project and was accepted. He received a security clearance and once on the island found himself placed in charge of housing construction for the tech and support groups.
As the SDF-1 began to take shape, so did Macross City. The ongoing project to decipher and apply the principles of Robotechnology became the one to try for; Macross Island became a haven for scientists from every discipline, pacifists and idealists disheartened by continued war fare, Senator Russo's military teams, and the support network that grew up to house, feed, and entertain these various groups.
Tommy Luan built Macross City, no one would have taken issue with that; so when it came time to call Macross City what it was and elect officials, Tommy Luan won hands down. And four years later, when the city had grown to a population of over 100,000, Tommy Luan would still be on top.
And now, months after the fold, here was Tommy Luan still in charge. The fact that the city and, most of its inhabitants had been rescued was miraculous; what had been done to the city since was equally so. For a time it had been like living in a giant's cellar; enormous conduits and pipes overhead, bulkheads for horizons, the eerie sounds of the ship permeating the city. There was room enough for the 50,000 survivors, but a kind of collective claustrophobia prevailed.
Then there was the disaster that befell them during the first modular transformation and the continued attacks on the SDF-1 by their unseen enemy. But Macross City had weathered it all, and the new city was a marvel to behold. Constructed on three levels that ascended to the massive starport
dome, the city had everything it had had on Earth-and then some. There were streets (even hills), shopping malls, electric cars and trucks, a monorail, tube and lift systems, several movie theaters, arcades, an amphitheater, even a radio station. The engineers who had come up with Eve-Enhanced Video Emulation-were experimenting with the blue skies, sunrises, and sunsets. And soon the Macross Broadcasting System would be inaugurated.
But there was an important something missing: There was no news.
Except, of course, what they were permitted to broadcast to the population concerning the war. Births and deaths; no crime to speak of; no traffic accidents; no corruption. There was no real life sense to the place; some fear and paranoia, but no real fun or excitement.
Which is precisely why Mayor Tommy Luan had jumped at the idea of running a Miss Macross pageant when Jan Morris's people had approached him.
Jan Morris's people-her agent, her manager, her publicity agent, the whole lot of them along with the noted Hollywood star-had become overnight residents of Macross City since the spacefold. She had been part of a variety show organized in the States and newly arrived on Macross Island to take part in the Launching Day celebration. Now Macross City had the whole show on a permanent basis; in addition to Jan Morris, there was an entire show band, two rock groups, two stand-up comics, and three singers. The Morris group presented the idea of the beauty pageant with real humanitarian zeal: Macross City needed a little excitement, and what better way to inaugurate the new television station than with a knock-'em-dead show with plenty of beautiful women and production numbers. Macross Island had been gearing up for just such an event, but what Morris's people were proposing was not a beauty pageant in the traditional sense of the term-Jan's people knew better than to put their star up against seventeen-year-olds in a swimsuit competition-but more of a Miss Popularity contest based on each individual's contributions to the spirit and growth of the transplanted city. The way they had it figured, Jan
would be crowned with the title at the end of the show and everyone would walk away happy.
The mayor had listened patiently to their plan, all the while formulating some thoughts of his own. It was a terrific idea-Macross City could use the boost, any excuse to gather behind an issue that wasn't war-related-but he saw through their motives: It was true that Jan, like so many others, had done her share to keep up the morale in the city, but as an actress (and only a fair one at that) in a world without movies, what else could she do but play on her past? But now with the SDF-1 through the launch window and the actual final leg of the ship's homeward journey a real possibility, it was time to think about the future of Jan Morris as a marketable property. After all, her audiences on Earth had surely regretted her loss, and just as surely they had moved on by now. So unless Jan Morris could return to Earth singled out by a title like Miss Macross from the other 50,000 returnees, her future as a star would be bleak. She would have missed her personal launch window.
With the right publicity, Jan Morris would certainly be a shoe-in for the title. But Mayor Tommy Luan didn't want to see that happen. Jan Morris was deserving enough, but her image was all wrong; she represented the past, and moreover, she was not really a voluntary resident of the city. No, what Macross City needed was someone whom they could call their own; not just a figurehead but some youn
g woman who would embody the spirit of adventure and survival, of victory and hope.
The Morris group continued to lay out their plans, but unknown to them, the mayor had already chosen the winner. She would be perfect! he told himself. Not only was she of mixed background and ancestry, lovely to look at, personable, and talented, but she was already a minor celebrity in her own right. For two weeks she and her young lieutenant friend had faced an ordeal in the bowels of the ship; it was her family that had reopened the first restaurant in the resurrected city, the White Dragon; and the flyboys all adored her. Yes, she would be perfect, the mayor decided:
Lynn-Minmei, Miss Macross!
Rick was having lunch with Minmei at Variations, a popular eatery on the upper tier of Macross City, when she told him about her entry in the Miss Macross pageant. They had been seeing each other frequently during the past two months. The enemy had pulled back for some reason, and the ship was on a course that would return them to Earth in six months or so. In general, things had been going well, but this was the first definite news Rick heard of the resuscitated contest, and he was speechless; it was hard enough sharing her with half the Robotech Defense Force, and now she was on the brink of becoming the communal property of the entire SDF-1!
"Rick, please don't get like that," she responded to his silence. "The mayor went ahead and entered me without even asking. And besides, you know how much this means to me."
"What are you, his secret weapon or something? I mean, what about us, Minmei? I mean...oh, forget it, I don't know what I mean."
She reached across the table for his hand. "Listen, Rick, will you be there for me-you and Roy and the guys? I'm going to need all the help I can get."
He looked into her blue eyes and began to feel the anger leaving him.
His smile brought one to her face.
"Of course we'll be there. We're on standby patrol that night, but Roy will able to pull some strings. Anyway, you're going to win that contest hands down."
"You really think I have a chance?"
"You're a sure thing," he told her. "You are our secret weapon, don't you know that?"
After Rick left the restaurant, Minmei ordered more tea for herself and stared out at Macross City's experimental blue skies. A sure thing, she mused. If only that were true, if only she could have the confidence that others had in her. The mayor, for one; he was treating her like she'd already won the contest, building up her chances, seeing to it that she had enough money for a new outfit. But what chance did she stand against girls like
Hilary Rockwell and Shawn Blackstone? Let alone Jan Morris! Hey, Jan Morris was her idol!
Minmei's hands fell to her lap. She looked down at her plaid school skirt, the blazer and tie. She thought she saw herself as she really was: just a kid with big dreams. A kid who needed constant attention and encouragement, even when she hated herself for bringing that about. At war with herself: one half weak and scared and full of self-doubts, against a constantly charming, vivacious, confident other half. The former could not for an instant sustain the dream that she would win, while the latter self seemed to embrace that dream as if it was something meant to lie-destined.
Well, wasn't it enough, she asked herself, just to be a part of the pageant, among those others she looked up to?
The answer was a resounding no!
The Macross amphitheater (the Star Bowl, as it was affectionately known) was located at the extreme edge of the enormous hold that housed the city. When planning the amphitheater, Robotech architects and engineers had taken full advantage of a preexisting bowl-shaped depression in the ship's floor and a large spacelight in the ceiling above the building site. The result was about as close to an open-air theater as one could hope for aboard a spaceship. The Star Bowl could seat 30,000, and there wasn't an empty place to be found on the night of the pageant.
The Macross Broadcasting System had labored long and hard to position their cameras for maximum coverage of the event. If all went as planned, the other 20,000 residents would be able to view the pageant from their shops, homes, or any of the curbside monitors that had recently been installed throughout the city.
The host for the show was Ron Trance, a veteran of countless benefit and rear-line shows for the troops during the Global Civil War. Trance had been slated to run the SDF-1 launch celebration and had been caught up in the fold. The seven judges included Colonel Maistroff and Captain Gloval, the editor of the newspaper, a former advertising executive, and three
officials from the mayor's office; but these seven were a mere formality-they would handle the contestants' questions and choose the semifinalists but would cast no final votes. That voting would be left to the people of Macross City. Each seat in the arena had been equipped with a sensor that would transmit a vote during balloting, and those in the city could cast their votes by phone or at any of several dozen voting booths.
Minmei's cheering section was seated to the left of the central runway, along the midsection of the amphitheater. Roy and his Skull Team were there, along with the members of Rick's newly formed Vermilion. Other squads were scattered throughout the area. The young lieutenant himself had yet to arrive.
The mayor opened the show, and after a few technical glitches the pageant got under way. The orchestra performed a piece written especially for the pageant, lasers crisscrossed overhead through colored smoke, spotlights played across the stage, and a series of holoprojected letters assembled themselves above to spell out "Miss Macross!" To thunderous applause Ron Trance made his entry, hoofing and singing. The curtains parted, and the twenty-eight contestants strutted on stage in a simple choreographed parade. The grand prizes were announced: a recording contract, a screen test, and a new fanliner, "the latest thing in sports mecha...featuring the powerful new VA hydro-turbine engine, designed by Ikkii Takemi himself..."
Minmei was comfortable with this part of the show. She hadn't realized that the bright lights at the front of the stage would make it impossible for her to see the audience, but it was probably just as well: It was more dreamlike this way, and she felt that she possessed more control over fantasy than real life. But backstage later on, the frights began to take hold of her. All week long she had been coached by her chaperons and support group on how to act during the next portions of the event, but just now she couldn't recall one bit of their advice. So she relied instead on Uncle Max's words: "Just be yourself."
It was while everyone was running around making costume changes for
the upcoming poise and question portions of the show that she spotted Jan Morris.
Minmei had been trying to meet her all week long, but Jan's agents had kept her inaccessible. She was the real star of the show, Minmei supposed, and here she was, just one of the contestants, a few seats away talking to her manager. She certainly was pretty, though-blond curls piled by a black and white striped headband, long legs, gorgeous blue dress with red horizontal bands, and that million-dollar smile. But as Minmei overcame her shyness and drew nearer, pen and memo book in hand, to ask for an autograph, she couldn't help but notice that Jan was a lot older than most of the girls and a lot shorter than she appeared to be in her films.
She was also upset about something.
Jan's manager was saying, "I guess they put you at the head of the list because you're the only star. But I've talked them into calling you last."
"Oh, thanks a bunch, Mary." Jan's voice dripped sarcasm. "Listen, Jan, it's only right that you-"
"Will you stop it, please!" the actress snapped. "This isn't Hollywood. I didn't ask to go to the...planets! Or get stuck in this oversized sardine can."
"So why are we doing this? We don't have to participate in this thing, Jan."
Jan just stared at her. "It goes with the territory, sweetheart. You should know that. I mean, someday we're going to get back home, and I'm not about to play the forgotten star-"
She glanced up at that moment and saw Minmei standing there. "Now what?" Jan muttered.
"
Excuse me, Miss Morris, I'm really one of your biggest fans, and so I was wondering if you'd be kind enough to give me your autograph." Minmei pushed the memo book forward. "I'm afraid this is all I have to write on, though. Would it be all right?"
Jan Morris gave her a cold once-over and, suddenly on the verge of tears, declined. Mary interceded before Minmei could apologize. "If you want an autograph from a real star, get yourself a real autograph book." Jan
Morns stood up, and the two of them walked away.
Minmei was stunned by the encounter, but she didn't have a moment to think about it: Center stage was calling.
Rick arrived at the amphitheater just in time to catch Minmei's grand entrance. Macross City's mass transit system was so jammed, he'd had to bicycle over from his quarters. He took a seat in the balcony, his binoculars zeroed in on the runway.
Minmei wore a hand-woven lavender mandarin gown of clinging silk, a dress that had belonged to her grandmother and had been altered to suit the girl's slim figure and long legs. The tunic had a simple round collar, flawless embroidery over the left shoulder, and revealing slits. She wore matching pumps and had strands of pink cultured pearls in her braided and bunned hair. Rick thought she looked fantastic as she stepped forward into the bright spot to wait for the judges' questions.
"Could we have your thoughts about the war and the needs of Macross City, your hopes for the future, your ambitions..."
Rick was simply too taken with the sight of her to pay much attention to Minmei's responses, but just then Captain Gloval asked a relevant question: "Do you have a steady boyfriend among all the fighter pilots you count as your friends?"
Rick hung on her every word.
"I don't believe I'm ready for that at this point. I mean, I think it's best to have a lot of different friends."
Battle Cry Page 10
