being buried alive; there were no objections."
"Lunk was calm again. He got the cells, primed them, and lashed them in place, steady, proficient-almost cheerful. The rest of us got into our armor, while Marlene and Lunk got to cover. Scott and Lancer stood ready to fire in case Invid came swarming through the hole we were hoping we would make."
"The car's motor was long dead, of course. But Rook and I started heaving and pushing against the back. The powered armor got that crate moving in no time, rusted parts freeing up with banshee shrieks. Then we hit our jets and the car was rocketing forward, faster than it ever traveled on the Urban Transmit System, I bet."
"We couldn't see, of course, because we had our shoulders to the wheel, but Scott told me later that the rail and the canisters of Protoculture just seemed to go into the rubble like an icepick. Lunk had mounted the cells just, right, so that when they were several yards in, they went off like shaped charges."
"I never found out how Lunk rigged those cells, but suddenly there was a gap in the cave-in and the car was in it."
"The explosion rocked the car back and knocked Rook and me right on our butts, powered armor or no. We pushed the car off again with our feet, to keep the way clear.
"It turned out that Lunk had had the presence of mind to rig earplugs for himself and Marlene; none of us armored types had thought of it."
"Even before we could get up, Scott was scrambling into the car, running to the forward end with armor-heavy steps that shook it. Lancer was about a half a high hurdle behind him. I thought they were being alarmist. But as I was getting a hand up from Rook I heard Scott yell over the tac net, 'Invid!'"
"Apparently, a few personal-armor mecha had been hovering out there, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe they had been afraid to start digging because it might bring down the roof on themselves; maybe they had some sort of time frame, so that if we didn't dig ourselves out by its elapse we
would be written off as dead. We'll never know.
"Scott and Lancer got in the first eight or ten shots and some missile hits, and that set the stage for a rub-out. Rook and I followed as fast as we could, but there really wasn't much to do but mop up."
"The next part's a little anticlimactic; we had to wait a bit for the tunnel to cool off from the heat of the firefight and the Pincer Ships' thrusters, but clearing a way with the powered armor was a cinch. In less than an hour, we were back on the surface, with no sign of any patrols and no hint of that big-bruiser enemy mecha."
"We took off our armor. I kept starting to put my arm around Rook's shoulders when she was looking the other way, and then deciding that she would take offense, then starting to edge my arm up again-then pulling it back, hoping nobody had noticed. I probably looked fairly spastic."
"Here's where it gets surprising again: When we finally trudged back to where we had left the VTs, Annie was standing there."
"She was wearing her olive-drab army surplus, that pink rucksack, and an E.T. cap just like the one she had lost in the fortress-a spare, it wouldn't surprise me. She was sort of moping around, but when she saw us her face lit up like a Christmas tree."
"After some reunion time, we got the story out of her-or at least, her version. 'Can you picture me as a jungle princess? They expected me to gather fruit and nuts and stand in the background while the men held council! So I said so-long! Dumb, hmm?'"
"I suspected that there was probably also the problem that the tribe wouldn't rename itself in her honor. And that Magruder expected certain matrimonial accommodations. Annie was a lot like me: talked a better fight, in certain arenas, than she could deliver."
"It was pouring down rain by then and we were all standing under the Beta, which had been hidden in a parking garage. I had to interrupt Annie. I told her-and everyone else-that Rook and I were pulling out because we couldn't hack it anymore. Rook watched me and didn't say a word. Annie was shattered, poor kid, but then Rook spoke to back me up."
"Marlene said she would stay with Scott, and that seemed only as it should be. Lunk was in for the whole nine yards, as the ancients put it, to Reflex Point. To prove himself, he said. (Though I thought that was the wrong reason to go on a mission like that, I kept my mouth shut. I guess all motives and ideals were at least a little tainted, by then.)"
"The way it turned out was just Rook and me riding away into a curtain of icy rain, while the others prepared to go on without us. Annie was crying her heart out on Lunk's shoulder. The farewells had hurt a lot more than they had helped."
"Some brilliant plan, Rand!"
"Rook was tearing along way too fast for weather and road conditions, and almost slammed me with her Cyc when I mentioned it. So we rode on, with all of it eating at us and no possibility of talking it out."
"And we were thinking the same thing: The team was going to carry on the mission. Dropouts, losses, setbacks-none of that mattered. Something greater than themselves had taken hold of them."
"The last straw was when Scott and Lancer cruised slowly overhead in VTOL mode, a slow flyby and solemn salute. Suddenly my adored Rook wasn't there anymore; she had made a bandit turn on the slick street, risking her neck, and was charging back the way she had come. Back to greet Lunk and Annie; back to board the Alpha she had left behind."
"I turned more slowly; I just didn't feel like talking to anybody for a while. I was going to have to get Scott to land, because he had my Beta mated to his Alpha."
"I watched Rook speed through the rain like a Valkyrie on two wheels, a War Stormqueen. I didn't want to talk over the tac net or hear the brave words. I was staying because Rook had stayed; I would have left if she had left."
"Something greater than myself had taken hold of me."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I suppose it's net a secret by now, though it was a long time till Pop knew it. When the team members complained about what bothered them the most, Rand agonized over how the books and films and tapes were dying-how Human history was passing away. And I guess sometimes he admitted he was trying to be a one-man databank/preservation society.
A lot of things happened after that, but if you want my opinion, that's when Mom fell in love for the first and the last time.
Naturally she didn't tell him right away.
Maria Bartley-Rand,
Flower of Life: Journey Beyond Protoculture
The evolution wasn't finished. It was just beginning.
The time had come for a form beyond that of the Enforcer. It was time for a new category of mecha-a new evolutionary step.
In the Hive Center at Reflex Point, the Regis looked down on two Enforcers. One was the one that had failed to eliminate the freedom fighters; the other had been quickened less than a week earlier. These two were the most intelligent, capable and adaptable of the Regis's children.
"You have been summoned here to assume your rightful place in the new order of our society," she told them. "First you must undergo transformation to the life form most suitable to this planet. Prepare for bio-reconstruction!"
Jagged nets of energy whirled out from the huge globe. in the center of the dome, to ensnare the two Enforcers and etch them in light. They writhed as if in torment, then froze like statues. In moments, the mecha had been stripped away, dissolved to particles. In the midst of the Protoculture fires two figures, in fetal tuck, floated-the forms of two fully developed Humans-a male and a female.
"My children, you now share a part of my own genetic code. You are a
prince and princess of our race, and shall be known hereafter as Corg and Sera."
The Regis appeared again in her almost-physical manifestation, the swirling barber-pole stripes of energy spiraling up and down around her. The Regis poured forth a purity of Protoculture power on a scale that only an Invid monarch was capable of ordaining or controlling. In moments, new mecha formed around the floating twins, Corg and Sera.
"We must soon begin the mass transformation of our people to the Human life form," the Regis went on, "
the form in which I have conceived you. The most advanced and flexible configuration for survival on this planet-this world to which the Flower of Life has led us."
Two mecha stood side by side now, bigger than Enforcers. They were more humanlike in form than any of the other alien war machines. They looked like the powered armor the Zentraedi had used long ago, but they were larger. The upper torsos were heavy with weapon pods and power nacelles, so that the things gave a strange appearance of buxomness. The head area was quite small, sunk between massively armed and powered shoulders and immensely strong arms.
The mecha of Corg, who had so recently harried the freedom fighters in their underground escape, was drab gray-green, with highlights in an orange-tan color. Sera's mecha was purple, with trim of dark pink. The great Robotech digits worked and tested themselves; the Prince and Princess of the Invid had risen above the claw, the pincer.
"However," the Regis told them, "there may be hidden dangers in this physical form. An earlier experiment with Human reconstruction appears to be malfunctioning. Our spy, Ariel, whom the Humans call Marlene, has failed to establish communications with me. You must seek out Ariel and determine the cause of her dysfunction, before we commit our race to a complete metamorphosis. You must prepare the way for the final phase of our domination of this planet! Go now, and prove yourselves worthy of your heritage!"
As the morning sun rose, the team stood on a cliff looking out at the Pacific. Scott was calculating the variables and the absolutes involved in a run for Baja California, but the others were just enjoying themselves. They were watching the crashing waves and the plaintive gulls, and enjoying the sight of the blue water and the broad beach.
From here on, according to fragmentary reports, the Invid watchposts and strongholds grew thicker and thicker. In order to avoid them, a sea-cruise seemed the only hope. The mecha were low on Protoculture again, and the ordnance was practically gone. But they had made it to the sea.
From here, anything was possible. Scott was thinking along the lines of a low, slow swing out over the ocean by night, leaving Lunk's truck and most of their other baggage behind-perhaps even abandoning one of the VTs.
That was when Annie pointed to her discovery. The team just stood there staring, while Annie asked them what in the world it was. Lancer answered.
"Abandoned Southern Cross base, Annie. Combination Navy Division/Jungle Forces installation, I'd say."
The place was a cluster of piers, radio towers, hangars, domes and quonset huts, barracks and operations center structures. Everything was decayed and overgrown with jungle plant life, and several of the roofs had collapsed. It was nothing new to the team; a gleaming town in good repair would have surprised them, but this was just one more pocket of earthly decline.
They were instantly thinking about food, weapons, maps, and charts, perhaps even equipment or a boat. in another second they were racing back to their mecha, eager to explore.
What pieces of mecha there were in the base were useless, but all other news was good. There was a fair amount of Protoculture, ordnance that was compatible with their VTs, sealed ration containers that had withstood the test of time, and a desalination plant that was still up to supplying a trickle of fresh water. But best of all, there were three boats.
Two of the boats were missile PTs, heavily armed for their size and extremely quick and maneuverable. The third was a cutter mounting missiles and a large pumpedlaser battery. Finding the boats confirmed Scott's decision: The best way to make the run to Baja was by sea. It would save Protoculture and they would be able to stay below the Invid sky sensors. The VTs could take turns hitching a ride on the cutter, and the boats could carry a wealth of supplies and materiel.
Whatever had made the Southern Cross troops abandon their base, it had left them time to put their boats and other equipment in mothballs before they went. In no time, the team was getting everything in working order again. Aerosol cans' spray peeled off the sealant layers over the boats' engines and a lot of the other gear; special treatments had kept the hulls free of barnacles and such growth. They were immune to rot, and as ready to go as when they had been laid down.
Lancer, standing his turn at watch in the tower, a binocular raised to his eyes, couldn't help but feel that chill he got whenever things were going a little too well. It wasn't very many minutes later that he found himself staring through his binocular at a Shock Trooper whose optical sensor was looking right back at him.
"What I figure is," he was telling the others a minute later, "it's not sure yet that there's anything going on here. But I'd be shocked if the Invid don't come looking around very soon. If we want the element of surprise, we'd better get hopping."
Scott would have liked another two days to reconnoiter, double-check the boats from stem to stern, rest up, and perhaps even do a short sea-trial. But he didn't even have two minutes.
Lunk had some experience with a Resistance quickboat outfit, and he was the logical one to take command of the missile cutter. He put out to sea with Annie and Marlene joining him on the bridge. The two PTs were towed by hawsers.
The VTs lifted off to rendezvous with the tiny flotilla, but the minute they activated their Protoculture engines, Shock Troopers came shooting up
out of the trees. Annihilation discs hatched infernos all around them.
"This always happens, very time I go up!" Rand complained. "Don't those guys have anything better to do?"
The VTs went darting off on evasive maneuvers, the pilots punching up weapons and targeting displays. The Troopers folded their ladybug-shaped forearms close to them and blasted after the VTs, firing from their shoulder-mounted cannon. The fighters led the Invid on a long swing out to sea, to keep them away from the boats. The humans were breathing heavily from the g-forces, legs locked, stomach muscles tightened to keep the blood up in their heads where it was needed the most. The tac net sounded like a wrestling tournament.
One Shock Trooper got a glancing hit at Rook's ship. Rand heard her groan of pain over the tac net, and his heart went cold. He turned around, thumbed the trigger on his stick, and flamed a Shock Trooper that never even knew what hit it. A second Trooper broke off its pursuit, diving and sliding to avoid meeting a similar fate.
"Serves ya right for fooling around with the big kids!" Rand cut in full military power and caught up with his teammates.
Two more Troopers showed up but fell in with the surviving one, and turned back toward the coast. Invid patrol patterns were a little inflexible, Scott saw.
Rand slid in until his wingtip was under Rook's and nearly touching her fuselage. "Hey, Rook? Are you hurt?"
Her answer had a clenched-teeth sound to it. "Nothing I can't live with, farmer." He didn't press her about it; it would only have brought on another spitting match over the tac net.
"But I owe you one," she grated, taking him completely by surprise.
In her cockpit, Rook looked down at the fizzling avionics, so badly shot up, and at the left thigh and bicep sections of her armor, which had been split open by flying shrapnel and Invid force ricochet. Blood seeped from her wounds.
Lancer scouted ahead, and in less than ten minutes the VTs had located
a place to rest. They stopped in the midst of a tiny chain of islands not too far off shore. While Rand coached Rook in for a landing, Lancer went back to help Scott provide air cover and guidance, and convoy the boats in.
Their rest stop had been a resort only a generation before. A place where people came to worship the sun to the point of melanoma; pay for drinks with plastic beads; coo and woo under the coconut trees; surf; scuba.
To make love, Scott thought, looking around at the place. The bay was translucent blue and the sand powder-white. Eat, drink, gamble. The team was doing all those things now, he assumed, although he might be projecting a little on the trysting part. And the freedom fighters were gambling with and for things a lot more precious than plastic beads or casino plaques.
Annie had been reading manua
ls and instruction pamphlets, and decided to play nurse on Rook. The onetime biker queen gritted her teeth but sat still for it. Annie wound her upper arm and thigh in enough bandage to restrain a small moose. Rand watched interestedly without seeming to; Rook had certain soft spots, like the one for Annie, and he was determined to learn them. Then Rook scowled at him, and he turned his attention elsewhere.
Stripping to his shorts, Rand took the swim he had been thinking about since he had listened to the chorus of the gulls that morning. Lunk had promised Scott that he could patch up Rook's Alpha and the other damage the VTs had suffered, with minimum delay. But meanwhile, all they could do was wait. Rook rested her chin on her fist and squinted balefully at Annie and Rand, who were frolicking in the surf.
Marlene, in a white mini bikini made of knotted lengths of parachute silk, went running and yelling into the water. The wet silk made Rand gape, and then he looked away, swallowing with a loud noise.
Scott appeared to say that everything would be ready when Lunk was done. Rand came out of the water sniffling and laughing and dripping-and happy. Rook's jaw muscles jumped a bit, but she held back her temper.
Then Rand was holding his hand out to her, more serious than she was
used to seeing him. "I'm sorry you were injured, but-c'mon down to the water and enjoy yourself. Otherwise I can't be happy."
It shocked her so much that she didn't quite know what to say, but she saw that Rand suddenly wasn't smiling; he was just watching her.
She practically stuck the back of her hand in his eye. "I guess it can't hurt. Well? Aren't you gonna help me up?"
Marlene and Annie stopped splashing each other and shouted happily for Rook's recovery as Rand gallantly helped her up and led her down to where the waves were foaming. Rand called triumphantly, "Hey, look who finally gave in and decided to have some fun!"
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