Symphony of Light

by Jack McKinney

  "Northlands" History of The Third Robotech War, Vol. LXXXVI

  The team swung north, then east, leaving the desert behind and entering the foothills of the Northlands central range. The Rockies, they were told. They chose to avoid southern routes across the continental divide in favor of the less traveled northern passes, even though this made for more difficult ascents. But there were numerous satellite hives in the warmer valleys to the south, and since the team's reserves of Protoculture were low, they couldn't afford to risk all-out engagement. They had managed to procure a few canisters of fuel, but Scott had insisted they be used for the red Alpha, which Rand and Rook had retrieved.

  The weather was against the team, however, and although a week went by without an enemy encounter, their progress was slow. When at last they crossed the spine, they began to sense the nearness of the prairielands beyond. But tectonic upheavals brought about by the Zentraedi Rain of Death had so altered the terrain here that they often felt off the map; and given their precataclysm charts, indeed they were.

  It was snowing now in this final pass that had no right being there. Fearful of calling attention to themselves and careful to conserve what little fuel remained, they had decided to keep the Veritechs grounded. Lunk had secured chains for the APC and fashioned skids and tow bars for the fighters using plate and barstock he had scavenged from what had been a recreational ski area. They had the APC rigged as a kind of tow vehicle, but

  most of the real propulsion was derived from battery-driven thrusters in the VTs' raptorlike legs. Annie and Marlene were riding up front with Lunk; the rest of the team was currently on foot.

  "It's so cold," Annie whimpered to Marlene, shivering and clutching the hooded poncho to her neck. "It feels like my nose is going to fall off or something."

  Marlene pressed herself closer to Annie and brought some of her own poncho around Annie's shoulders.

  Scott, Lancer, and Rook, similarly attired in coldweather ponchos, were alongside the red Alpha at the middle of the caravan. "Soup," said Rook, daydreaming. "Nice, hot soup. A cup of thick soup, a bathtubful of piping hot, steaming soup..." She felt Lancer's hand on her shoulder.

  "Don't. It only makes it worse."

  Then she heard Rand: "Hold up a minute, guys!"

  He was behind them at the Beta's wingtip, preoccupied with his latest acquisition-the thermograph Jesse had given him shortly before the assault on the broadcast tower. It was about the size of a small chain saw, with a muzzlelike sensor and top-mounted carrying handle. Rook saw that he was kneeling down, sweeping the instrument across the snow.

  "Lunk! Stop the sleds!" Scott called out over the wind.

  "It's amazing...There's something underneath us!" Rand was saying as Scott, Lancer, and Rook approached.

  "Yeah, we know. It's called ice," Rook told him.

  Scott motioned her to lighten up. "What are you picking up?"

  Rand double-checked the indicator readings. "A large heat source.

  Massive, way off the meter." "Volcanic?"

  Rand shook his head, loosing wet snow from the poncho. "Definitely not."

  "Then the thermograph is on the fritz," Rook said through chattering teeth. "Either that or it's your brain."

  Rand ignored the comment and began pushing snow aside, as if to get

  a glimpse of something beneath the ice. "It's gotta be a generator of some kind...just below this layer of snow..."

  Rook made an impatient sound. "Come on, man, you're wasting our time."

  He looked up knowingly and got to his feet. "Wasting our time, huh?" All at once he was beside her, pushing her toward the window he had excavated.

  "Quit your shoving!" she protested.

  "Well, Miss Know-it-all, why don't you take a look for yourself?"

  She glared at him for a moment, then went down on her knees, wiping away flakes of new snow and peering in. The ice was virtually transparent, as clear as Caribbean water. But her mind refused to accept what her eyes were telling her: she seemed to be looking down on a turn-of-the-century building bathed in artificial light-one of those twenty-story milk cartons she had seen pictures of. There was steam or something issuing from exhaust elbows on the roof, and below that she could discern other buildings and lit streets.

  Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of vertigo, she had to turn away. "It's a city!"

  "Told you," said Rand.

  Scott looked at both of them and frowned. "Sorry, guys, but it's no time to play archaeologist."

  "We just need a pickax and some ropes!" Rand said excitedly. He was already up and running toward the APC. "Think of the food and supplies that are down there!" He threw off his poncho and made a mad leap for the vehicle's shotgun seat, mindless of Lunk's bewildered cries. He was rummaging around in the storage compartment beneath the seat when the ground started to give way.

  It was too late for the warnings Scott and the others were shouting out; the APC fell through, almost dragging the VT caravan with it. Instinctively, Scott grabbed hold of the Beta's skids, but momentarily the fighter train came to a halt of its own accord, with the blue Alpha perched precariously at

  the edge of the hole, its radome dropped, like the beak of a bird searching for worms in a hole.

  Down below, Annie felt herself for broken bones. She looked around and saw that Rand, Marlene, and Lunk were performing similar self-examinations. She had no idea what they had fallen into or onto, but it seemed to be some sort of roof. The APC was upright nearby, the chains that had connected it to the lead Veritech snapped. Overhead, Scott and the others were leaning in to inquire if everyone was all right. Annie got to her feet and felt a strong uprush of heated air.

  "Hey, I think we can get down to street level!" Rand was shouting. He had thrown open the door to a boxlike structure that housed the building's stairway. Atop it were the jetting exhausts Rook had seen from above.

  Rand disappeared through the door, and Annie followed him without a thought.

  The rest of the team had lowered themselves to the roof by now and had discarded their ponchos. Above the jagged rend in the ice the snowstorm was still howling. Scott moved to the edge of the roof and looked around in amazement: It was indeed an underground city, intact and apparently deserted. He turned to gaze up at the hole and realized that the city was not only subterranean but fully enclosed by a protective dome of what appeared to be fabriplex. Somehow the place had been spared destruction by both the Zentraedi fleet and subsequent geological shifts. Over the years it had become buried by earth and snow. He wanted to run this by Lunk and Lancer, but Lunk had other concerns on his mind.

  "The landing gear's been damaged," he told Scott, indicating the undercarriage of the still suspended blue Alpha.

  "I guess that means we're stuck here for a while," said Rook, not exactly unhappy about it.

  Scott scowled. "Another delay," he muttered under his breath.

  Rand and Annie, meanwhile, had hit the streets. They had taken the

  forty flights warily, and Rand had his blaster out even now, but there was no sign of activity. The ground-floor levels of many of the buildings were illuminated, as were numerous signs and street lights. Still, there were indications that the place had been abandoned in haste, and it was an eerie feeling to walk through it all. There were no vehicles, and the only sound was that of the city's self-contained atmosphere being sucked toward the breach they had opened in its protective umbrella.

  Annie wasn't quite as put off by the emptiness as Rand. "It's magical," she enthused. "I've never seen a city this big in my whole life."

  Rand holstered his weapon.

  "I wonder what keeps it running. It looks like it dates back to the prewars period." He caught a glimpse of Annie's look of enchantment and laughed. "And to think, it's been buried here just waiting for you and me to come along."

  "Like out of a fairy tale!"

  Rand took hold of her hand, and they ran off to explore.

  Scott sent Marlene and Rook off to locate Rand
while he, Lunk, and Lancer carefully disengaged the caravan and piloted each of the Veritechs to the roof of the building. A search for tools brought them down into the lowermost of the building's subbasements, where Lunk discovered the source of the city's power: a generator that tapped thermal power deep within the Earth itself. Lancer also came up with something that explained where they were: it was a teletype evacuation notice addressed to the residents of "Denver," issued on the eve of Dolza's devastating barrage of death.

  "They were in such a big hurry, they forgot to turn out the lights," Lunk smirked. "They're gonna get stuck with some utility bill."

  Rook had managed to find Rand. It wasn't difficult: she simply started with the toy stores, then worked her way through the supermarkets and delis.

  She was off gathering supplies now, while Rand, Annie, and Marlene were sampling foodstuffs from the plastic wrapped; bottled, and canned goods smorgasbord they had spread out on the floor around them. They had found bags of marshmallows and jars of peanut butter, cookies, dried fruits and frozen pies, cans of soda and bars of chocolate, cereals, beans, soups, and assorted sweets.

  "Mmmm, mint chocolate," Annie said with her mouth full. She tore open a second package and broke off a piece for Marlene. "Try it, you'll love it. I could live off this stuff."

  Marlene nibbled at it and raised her eyebrows. "It is good." "Peppermint!" Annie exclaimed, picking another item from the floor.

  "This is my most favorite thing in the whole world!" She pillowed her head against the bag and closed her eyes lovingly.

  Nearby, Rand popped open a Coke. "You got mints on the brain, kid." He gulped some down and took a bite from the hero he had defrosted.

  "I don't care what the Invid do as long as they don't take away our peppermint."

  "Nice attitude, Annie. But I gotta agree with you: this is the life.

  Somebody pinch me so I know I haven't died and gone to heaven."

  Rook, pushing a cartful of supplies, came by just then to remind him. "How about a kick in the teeth instead?" She gave the three of them her best disapproving look. "What a mess. We're supposed to be foraging supplies, not packing them away in our stomachs. Ever think that Scott and Lancer might be hungry, too?" She shook her head at Rand. "Sometimes you make me wonder."

  He showed a roguish grin in response and tossed a can over to her. "Ever seen these before?"

  Rook read the label. "Vienna sausages? What's a 'vienna'?"

  Rand saw Annie and Marlene's puzzled looks. "You mean none of you have tried these?"

  "Are they peppermints?" Annie said, getting to her feet.

  Rook made a face and tossed the can over her shoulder to Rand. "What

  a disgusting thought."

  Rand shared a wink with Annie and said, "Let's find out."

  She kneeled down and pulled on the can's ring-seal. "Oh, they're cute!" she laughed, fishing out sausages for Rand and Marlene. She popped one into her mouth. "Ter-ri-fic...Not peppermints, but pretty good anyway."

  Rook was watching them all munching away, her forefinger to her lower lip. "Lemme try one," she said, kneeling down, hands between her knees.

  Rand dangled a sausage between his fingers. "I don't know... You think you should?"

  "Just gimme it," she barked, snatching it from his grip. She chewed the thing up and swallowed: salty and too soft, but it tasted better than anything she had had in weeks.

  Annie saw the look of delight on her face, laughed, and pointed her finger accusingly. "Now our food supply's really gonna be in trouble!"

  Scott had left the VT repairs to Lancer and Lunk and had gone off to look for Rand and Rook. He couldn't blame them for wanting to explore the city; it was like some museum of prewar life, the life some of the oldest members of the Pioneer Mission had spoken of.

  He was standing in front of a bridal shop now, staring at a lovely white dress in the display window. The dress reminded him of a picture he had once seen that was taken on his mother's wedding day. There was even something about the mannequin that reminded him of her, the short upswept brown hair adorned with a red flower...He was so caught up in the memory that he wasn't aware of his teammates' presence until Annie spoke.

  "Jeepers, look at that dress! What I'd give to be married in that!"

  Embarrassed, Scott swung around, certain they had read his thoughts somehow. Marlene and Rook were nodding in agreement. They had three shopping carts loaded with supplies.

  "Hey, Scott, who's the lucky girl gonna be?" Rand joked.

  But Scott saw his friend's smile quickly collapse after Rook nudged him

  on the arm. Now it was Rand who was embarrassed for having forgotten about Marlene-Scott's Marlene, who had died during the Mars Division assault.

  The foursome began to move off. Scott returned to his musings for a moment more, then called out for them to stop.

  "Where do you think you're going? I want to get these supplies to the ships. Maybe you've forgotten, but we have an appointment to keep at Reflex Point."

  Rand made a dismissive gesture. "Ah, give it a rest, Scott. What's an hour or two gonna matter?" Then he softened his tone somewhat. "Look, I know this place might not be very important to you..."

  "But we were born right here on Earth," Annie filled in. "And leaving this place now would be like turning our backs on our heritage."

  Even Rook chimed in. "We deserve a little R&R, don't we?"

  The three of them didn't wait for his answer and started off down the street. But he didn't try to stop them; there was no denying the truth of their arguments.

  "You're such an old stick-in-the-mud sometimes," Annie said over her shoulder.

  Scott regarded the mannequin once again, only now it was Marlene, his fianc 閑's face, that he saw there. Oh, come on, Scott, he fantasized her saying. Loosen up a little. It's a beautiful dress. And who knows, maybe

  they'll give us a break on the price...It is our wedding, after all... "Marlene," he said softly.

  "I'm right here, Scott," the other Marlene said behind him. "What are you thinking about?"

  He turned to her and stammered: "Uh...about another dress a long time ago that was similar to this one." She had a sympathetic look on her face. "Do you think they're right about me being a stick-in-the-mud?"

  She was about to reply that she had no idea what that meant, when Scott's face brightened suddenly and he put his hand on her shoulder.

  "Marlene, how about an unguided tour of the city-just you and me?"

  She smiled and let him take her hand but an instant later was down in the street on her butt.

  "Whoa, are you all right?" Scott was asking her. He was kneeling beside her on the pavement, regarding her ankle boots and frowning. "We're going to have to find you some better shoes and some warmer clothes."

  She took Scott's hand between hers and pressed it to her cheek. "Mmmm...You're not cold?"

  Scott nuzzled her hair. "No. All of a sudden, I feel very warm."

  They walked the deserted streets arm in arm, content to say little and enjoying their closeness. Marlene spied a display of lingerie in a shop window and ran to it, fingertips to the plate glass. Here was a pair of yellow bikini briefs with a matching spaghetti-strapped bra, a lavender, camisole, a rose-colored teddy.

  "Aren't they beautiful, Scott?"

  "Uh, that's not quite what I had in mind," he said from a safe distance, blushing all the while. He put his arm around her shoulders to move her away. "Believe me, you'd freeze in those things," he told her.

  In a shoe store, he feigned a foreign accent and tried to interest her in a pair of low-impact approach boots, but she playfully demanded to be shown something more feminine.

  "But these things will keep you from churning in the snow." "Feminine, I said."

  He round a pair of white pumps in her size and squatted down to place them on her feet. "They're not very practical," he started to say, but she was already up and twirling around on one foot, laughing.

  "There," she told him.
"Much better for dancing."

  Scott smiled up at her. Dancing, he thought. But the more he watched her, the more her face began to blend with memories of his lost love, and ultimately he had to look away. She saw the sadness in his eyes and asked him to talk about it.

  "I was just dreaming of a better time, Marlene. Of dancing..."

  Then all at once he was on his feet, the excitement back in his eyes, putting his hands atop her shoulders.

  "And now to complete the picture..."

  He led her off at a run to a dress shop and rummaged through the racks until he had found what he was after: a strapless gown cut like a mermaid's tail, pale lavender above a kind of pleated base of white skirt.

  "It was made for you."

  She held it up to herself, flattered by his choice. "Go ahead, try it on," he urged her.

  And she was about to, but there was something vague in her memory that prevented her. Scott picked up on it immediately, even though she hadn't a clue as to why she had stopped.

  "Stupid of me," he said, smacking the heel of his hand against his head. He scanned the shop for a dressing room and when he had located it, rushed over to station himself like a guard by its curtained entrance.

  "If you'll just step this way, mademoiselle..." he suggested with a theatrical bow.

  She disappeared inside and cautioned him about peeking, recalling the way Rand had looked at her when she had innocently stripped off her clothes to swim...

  Scott jumped back as though scalded. She's reading my thoughts, he told himself. He swallowed hard as he watched her discarded clothes pile up on the floor below the curtains. And when the curtains parted, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

  She stood still, her hands crossed at her neck, allowing him to take her in; then she gathered her hair in one hand and turned her back to him.

  "Would you zip me up, Scott?"

  He regarded the open zipper and took halting steps toward the dressing room, his eyes fixed on the graceful curve of her back, the pale perfection of her skin.