“As stipulated by the accord—and in spite of passionate pre-accord lobbying by President Wyatt Moran and others—the Robotech Expeditionary Force, under the command of Brigadier General Gunther Reinhardt and Admiral Richard Hunter, will retain full possession of the factory satellite and the starship, SDF-3. Moran has indicated, however, that he will continue to fight for the creation of a bipartisan plenipotentiary council to oversee the Tirol mission itself, and to ensure Southern Cross participation in the events. Leonard has already named former intelligence officer T. R. Edwards, now a colonel in the Earth Defense Force, as his personal choice to represent the military interests of the Southlands and the nonaligned tenitories …”
“Turn that damned thing off,” Leonard said, gesturing to the hotel suite’s flatscreen television. “Who the hell wants to hear some electronic phantom deliver the news—especially one that only knows half the story.”
Leonard’s leg was in a cast from a wound he had sustained at the Scavenger’s camp. Closest to the TV, Joseph Petrie told the screen to zero itself. Leonard was right, of course. The MBS had no inkling of the subtext of the accord that partnered the RDF and the Southern Cross. All things considered, the media’s misapprehension of the facts benefited Leonard, since his strategy called for feigning ignorance of the covert machinations of the RDF. Petrie had been concerned about the commander’s recent bouts with depression—episodes that had commenced about the time of the attack on the Scavengers’ camp—but Leonard seemed reborn since arriving in Monument City for the recognition ceremonies.
“The RDF thinks that they’ve played us for fools,” Leonard told his three guests—Patty Moran, T. R. Edwards, and Lazlo Zand. “They think everything’s falling neatly into place for them. They assume they’ve appeased us by accepting us as partners and affording us full participation in the reconstruction of Gloval and ALUCE bases. Anything to keep us occupied while they transfer more and more of their surface operations to the factory satellite. And A couple years from now, when the SDF-3 folds to Tirol with eighty percent of Earth’s mechanized defenses aboard, guess who’s supposed to be left holding the bag? Us, that’s who.” Leonard stormed around the room for a moment, then stopped and whirled on his audience.
“But wait till they get a whiff of the stink we’re going to raise when that starship is declared mission-ready. Weil let the entire world in on their little plan to leave the planet defenseless. But even then, we’ll continue to back the mission, proclaim the necessity of it. Weil kiss every member of the REF good-bye. And by the time they launch, we’ll have everyone so paranoid about a second invasion that the UEG will grant us whatever we need to act as Earth’s sole protectors. Funding, support, power …” Leonard put his hands on hips and rocked on the balls of his feet.
“To the disbanding of the UEG,” Moran said, lifting a glass of wine.
Edwards, Petrie, and Zand followed suit. “To the new order,” Edwards said.
Leonard acknowledged it with a bow. “I’m only sorry you won’t be here to see it happen, Edwards.”
Edwards made a dismissive gesture. “One of us has to be aboard the SDF-3 to make sure Hunter and the rest don’t strike any separate deals with the Masters.” He cut his eyes to Zand, whose nose was bandaged and whose arm was still in a sling. “Unless, of course, the good professor would like to sign on as a member of the plenipotentiary council?”
“No, no, thank you,” Zand said quickly, coughing up wine. “I, uh, don’t think I have the stomach for space travel.” He grinned madly. “Besides, the Shapings require me to be here.”
The room grew eerily quiet, but Leonard didn’t allow the silence to linger. “Maybe those ‘Shapings’ will have something to relate about the fate of the Zentraedi, Professor. Because I promise you this much: any aliens who remain on Earth after the SDF-3 launches will wish they hadn’t.”
“I’m not saying I don’t like it,” Rolf Emerson said, standing at the entrance to the Sterlings’ high-rise apartment. He inclined his head to one side, staring at Miriya’s severly shorn hair. Banged and layered, the new do drew attention to the planes and angles of her face, at once imparting something severe and pious to her features. “It’s just going to take some getting used to.”
Max ushered him inside. On the way to the living room, Rolf peeked in on Dana, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in a sprite-filled video game. It was Rolf’s first visit in months. The last time he’d seen Max or Miriya was at the premission briefing for the raid on the Scavenger base. Since then, his duties as liaison officer to the Southern Cross had kept him hopelessly busy.
“What made you decide to cut it?” Rolf asked Miriya while Max was busy in the kitchen.
“It was something I had to do. An outward sign of my new identity.”
The seriousness of her tone threw him. “What new identity?”
“As executioner.”
Rolf nodded uncertainly. “I was surprised to hear that Breetai had asked you to fly with him in the Kara-Thun.”
“He didn’t ask me,” she snapped. “I asked him.”
Rolf was suddenly sorry he had brought it up.
“Marla Stenik thought she could pilot her Battlepod into Breetai’s, but I ripped her ship apart before she could reach him,” Miriya went on. “Treng crashed his Battlepod and tried to escape into the wastelands on foot, but Breetai chased him down and killed him with his hands.” She paused to reflect on something. “It’s not something I could expect you to understand, but killing Seloy and … others had a powerful effect on me, Rolf. It brought to life something I thought was dead. Something I wish was still dead.”
“Rolf understands,” Max said, interrupting. “He and Ilan Tinari—”
Miriya shot him an angry look. “Because we live together, you think you understand me?”
Max set a tray of chips and salsa on the table. “Okay, ‘understand’ is probably the wrong word. Let’s say that I don’t judge you strictly by Human standards.”
“That’s good, Max, because I’m not Human.”
Rolf glanced around uncomfortably, and Miriya picked up on it.
“Rolf, are you aware that Max and I consider you one of our closest friends?”
Rolf relaxed enough to smile. “I’m glad to hear that, Miriya, because I certainly feel that way about you two.”
“Do you think you’ll be living in Monument now that Venezuela belongs to the Southlands?” Max said, taking a seat opposite Rolf.
“It’s beginning to look that way. Especially if Leonard and Moran are going to be dividing their time between Brasília and here. Besides, I’ve met someone. Her name is Laura.” He looked at Max. “Why?”
Max and Miriya traded ambiguous looks. “We’re considering joining the REF, Rolf,” Miriya said at last.
Rolf was unsuccessful in hiding a frown. “I’m sure Rick and Lisa are thrilled.”
Miriya nodded. “They are, but the decision has nothing to do with them. I’m doing this for myself. I’ll never be free of the Imperative until I confront the Masters directly, and I think it’s important that I do that on Tirol. Something is drawing me there. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Rolf studied her, then Max. “Does this have something to do with my living in Monument City?”
Max cleared his throat meaningfully. “Rolf, we can’t take Dana with us. We want her to have as normal an upbringing as possible, and the SDF-3 isn’t the place for that.”
“We want you to think about being Dana’s guardian while we’re gone,” Miriya added.
Rolf was dumbfounded. He gestured to himself. “I don’t know anything about raising kids!”
“We know that,” Max said. “But Dana’s very comfortable around you. She thinks of you as part of the family. There’s no one else we can ask, Rolf. Maybe if Jean and Vince weren’t going …”
“What about her godfathers?”
“We said normal, Rolf,” Max said.
“Besides, they’re going to be spendin
g a lot of time at the factory.”
Rolf started to say something, but laughed instead. “Me and Dana, huh?” He shook his head in self-amusement “I guess we’ll be able to manage for a few months.”
“This can only work if you decide to make it work,” Catherine Wolfe told her husband as he was unpacking their suitcases. The Wolfes were in the bedroom of their small, on-base modular house in the outskirts of Monument City. Johnny was asleep in the second bedroom, pleased with his new surroundings after months of being moved from RDF base to base. “How many times did you ask me to give Cavern City a chance? That’s all I’m asking you to do now.”
Wolfe looked at her. “Yeah, but how long did it take for you to do that?”
“What difference does it make? I found a job, I created a home for us—even if I didn’t fit in with your friends and their families.”
“Because you never tried to. And you bitched for two years before you took that job.”
“Fine. So you have my permission to bitch for two years.”
He started to say something but changed his mind. “I just don’t know if I can get used to this place.”
Catherine folded her arms and frowned “You’d rather be in what’s left of Cavern City?”
“I like Cavern. This place is too cold and crowded.”
“Do you like it enough to resign from the RDF and enlist in the Southern Cross?”
“I know there’s no going back—all I’m saying is that I miss it.”
“What you miss is hunting malcontents, Jonathan. And sooner or later you’re going to have to accept that that part of your life is also finished.”
“That’s not so easy, Cath.”
She softened somewhat and walked over to him. “I know that. But don’t you think you’ve earned a rest? Haven’t Johnny and I earned a rest? You can’t live on the edge forever, and a desk job isn’t going to kill you. If you can take some of the energy you brought to the field and apply that to your new position, you’ll be a colonel in a year. Then you can start to think about retiring, and we can start a new life for ourselves.”
Wolfe snorted a laugh. “I won’t make colonel for ten years, Cath. Not without a war, and definitely not anchored to a desk or teaching tank tactics to a bunch of recruits.”
Catherine blinked. “I’m sorry we can’t provide you with a war, Major. I’m afraid you’ll just have to make the best of peace.”
Wolfe moved to the window and pressed his face against the cool glass. The night was clear and strewn with stars. Reconciliations were a tricky business, but he knew Catherine was right when she said that any benefits to be gained from their new circumstances would depend on his willingness to embrace change. And that held for their marriage as well: it wouldn’t survive unless he wanted it to. But what was he supposed to do about his need for new horizons, action, the camaraderie of combat? Where was he going to find that in Monument City?
He spent a long moment staring at the stars before the truth of his dilemma struck him like ice-cold lightning. By accepting the transfer to Monument—primarily for Catherine’s sake—he had bought into a lie. He would never be content here. What he wanted was upside, removed from the petty concerns of the planet, to which it owed nothing more than gravitational allegiance. The SDF-3 was where he wanted to be. And if Catherine couldn’t understand that, then they didn’t belong together. Eight years earlier he’d been left behind by the SDF-1, but this time he wouldn’t give fate the chance to cheat him.
“We’ll be launch-capable by no later than June 2022,” Lang was happy to announce on entering the command bubble of the SDF-3.
Rick, Lisa, and Exedore had arrived only minutes earlier, by tug from level nine of the factory satellite. Outside the eye of the bridge, three hundred feet above the techno-carpeted deck, Breetai sat cross-legged on a retrofitted platform that enabled him to share in briefings held in the command bubble.
“I’m also confident that the fold generators will deliver us to the Valivarre system in a single jump. The ship will manifest three million miles from Fantoma, in its shadow. Tirol will be just emerging from its long night.”
Rick and Lisa smiled and hugged. Exedore cast an unreadable, arched-eyebrow look at Breetai. “It still doesn’t seem real,” Lisa said, looking around the bubble. “Sometimes I’ll sit in the command chair, put my hands on the controls, and try to imagine us millions of light-years from Earth, and my mind seems to shut down.”
“Soon you won’t have to rely on imaginings, Commander,” Lang said in a paternal voice. He glanced at Exedore. “How will it feel to be returning home?”
“My mind is also stubbornly silent on that issue, Doctor. I should point out, however, that the Zentraedi have never, and probably will never, associate Tirol with pleasant images. To you, home by and large connotes acceptance and warmth of feeling. But as you will see for yourselves, Tirol is neither warm nor accepting. I will be surprised if the Masters so much as deign to recognize us, let alone entertain our entreaties for peace.”
“Don’t worry, Exedore, we’re not exactly going to show them our belly,” Rick said.
Breetai loosed one of his signature growls. “The Masters will find our soft spot, regardless.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Rick argued, “even if it means a fight. But you won’t hear me issuing any fire orders until we’ve stated our case for peace.”
Lang was nodding his head in agreement. “We mustn’t lose sight of the fact that we are emissaries first, warriors last. Everyone on Earth expects us to demonstrate restraint.”
“Everyone but Anatole Leonard,” Lisa commented.
Rick cut his eyes to her. “We’ll deal with him when we return. He seems to think we’ve elected him steward of the planet, but the authority we’ve given him can just as easily be revoked.”
“The RDF has encouraged him to think of himself as Earth’s protector,” Lang said. “And that may prove our greatest failing to date. In fact, I sometimes feel we have more to fear from Leonard than we do the Masters or the Invid.”
“Then let’s promise ourselves something here and now,” Lisa said. “That we keep our first meeting with the Masters as brief as possible, and that when we refold to Earth, we dedicate ourselves to completing the work we began six years ago: restoring our world. Before Leonard or any of his kind succeed in further dividing us against ourselves.”
For Michael Riccardelli—Zor Prime—faithful correspondent and provider of anime, comics, and rousing ideas for Robotech
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Since its inception, when Carl Macek restructured three Japanese animes to create the television series, Robotech has been an interactive enterprise. Comico Comics adapted the eighty-five original episodes, and Palladium Books provided additional details on characters, mecha, and chronology for the role-playing game. In adapting Robotech and the Sentinels for Del Rey Books, I incorporated material from the original scripts and the role-playing game; and in writing The End of the Circle, I tried to be faithful to Macek’s vision. Eternity Comics has been doing the same in their adaptation of the Sentinels and in several spin-off series, incorporating material from the scripts, the role-playing game, and the novels.
For several years now I have wanted to chronicle the events that led to the launch of the SDF-3—to fill in the gap between book six of the original series and book one of the Sentinels. However, some of that story has since been detailed by Bill Spangler in “The Malcontent Uprisings,” a series he wrote for Eternity Comics. In the interest of consistency and continuity, I have included some of Bill’s plot elements in the present work (chiefly, the events of 2018—with all apologies to Bill for the changes I made). Several key Zentraedi characters sprang from his imagination, as did many of the Zentraedi terms. I am also indebted once again to Kevin Siembieda for his detailed descriptions of mecha and of the factory satellite, and to everyone at Protoculture Addicts, not only for keeping Robotech vital, but for publishing a magazine line devoted to mecha.
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Continuity is what distinguishes Robotech from similar (though admittedly more widespread) sagas like Star Wars and Star Trek. It has always been my belief that only one version of the Robotech story exists, and that we writers are mere chroniclers of that tale.
By Jack McKinney
Published by Ballantine Books:
THE ROBOTECHTM SERIES:
GENESIS #1
BATTLE CRY #2
HOMECOMING #3
BATTLEHYMN #4
FORCE OF ARMS #5
DOOMSDAY #6
SOUTHERN CROSS #7
METAL FIRE #8
THE FINAL NIGHTMARE #9
INVID INVASION #10
METAMORPHOSIS #11
SYMPHONY OF LIGHT #12
THE SENTINELSTM SERIES:
THE DEVIL’S HAND #1
DARK POWERS #2
DEATH DANCE #3
WORLD KILLERS #4
RUBICON #5
ROBOTECH: THE END OF THE CIRCLE #18
ROBOTECH: THE ZENTRAEDI REBELLION #19
KADUNA MEMORIES
THE BLACK HOLE TRAVEL AGENCY:
Book One: Event Horizon
Book Two: Artifact of the System
Book Three: Free Radicals
Book Four: Hostile Takeover
APPENDIX
Thanks to the magic of electronic publishing, it has become practical to update the classic Robotech novelizations. Many of these changes are simple spelling and grammar corrections while others are minor continuity corrections which were made to more closely match the events of the television episodes. Such continuity updates were made where we felt it could be done without too much disruption to the original prose, and left alone in other instances where we felt the disruption would outweigh the benefit. For those of you curious about the specific changes made, we offer the following list of updates and errata:
The Zentraedi Rebellion Page 38