10_invid_invasion-第5部分

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And　there　were　just　too　many　places　for　an　enemy　to　hide。

〃Give　me　a　scorched　Martian　desert　any　day；〃　Scott　muttered。

He　heard　a　rustling　sound　in　the　brush　nearby　and　reached　out　for　the　blaster…a　discette…shaped　weapon　developed　on　Tirol　that　was　a　scaled…down　version　of　the　one　carried　by　the　Masters'　Bioroids　during　the　Second　Robotech　War。

〃Is　there　somebody　out　there？〃　he　asked　of　the　dark。

When　the　movement　suddenly　increased；　he　fired　off　a　charge；　it　impacted　with　a　blinding　orange　flash　against　a　tree；　flushing　two　small　long…eared　creatures　from　the　undergrowth。　Scott　mistook　them　for　Optera　cha…chas　at　first…the　Flower　of　Life　Pollinators…then　realized　that　they　were　rabbits。

What's　happening　to　me？　he　asked　himself；　shaken　by　the　cold　fear　that　coursed　through　him。　Marlene　and　everything　I　loved　destroyed；　and　now　I'm　losing　my　nerve。　He　set　the　blaster　aside　and　put　his　gloved　hands　to　his　face。　It　was　possible　he　had　sustained　a　concussion　during　the　crash。　A　delayed　onset　of　shock。。。

Lifting　his　head；　he　found　that　Earth　had　another　surprise　in　store　for　him。　The　sky　was　dumping　droplets　of　water　on　him…it　was　raining！　Scott　got　up　and　walked　to　a　clearing　in　the　woods。　He　had　heard　about　this　phenomenon　from　old…timers　but　hadn't　expected　to　encounter　it。　Scott　could　see　that　rain　might　not　be　a　bad　thing　under　certain　conditions；　but　right　now　it　was　only　adding　to　his　disfort。　Besides；　there　was　something　else　in　the　air　that　had　e　in　with　the　rain：　periods　of　a　short…lived；　rolling；　explosive　roar。

Clouds　backlit　by　flashes　of　electrical　charge　were　moving　swiftly；　obscuring　the　Moon　and　plunging　the　world　into　an　impenetrable　dark。　Soon　the　angry　bolts　responsible　for　that　stroboscopic　light　were　overhead；　launched　like　fiery　spears　toward　the　land　itself；　earsplitting　claps　of　thunder　in　their　wake。

Scott　found　himself　overwhelmed　by　a　novel　form　of　terror；　so　unlike　the　fear　he　was　accustomed　to　that　he　stood　screaming　into　the　face　of　it；　his　feet　seemingly　rooted　to　the　ground。　This　had　nothing　to　do　with　enemy　laser　fire　or　plasma　annihilation　discs；　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　bat　or　close　calls。　This　was　a　larger　terror；　a　deeper　one；　springing　from　an　archaic　part　of　himself　he　had　never　met　face　to　face。

Unnerved；　he　ran　for　the　safety　of　the　Veritech　cockpit　as　lightning　struck　and　ignited　one　of　the　trees；　toppling　it　with　a　second　bolt　that　split　the　forest　giant　along　its　length。　He　lowered　the　canopy　and　hunkered　down　in　the　VT　seat；　hugging　himself　for　warmth　and　security。　Eyes　tightly　shut；　ears　filled　with　crackling　noise；　he　shouted　to　himself：　What　am　I　doing　on　this　horrible　planet？

As　if　answering　him；　his　mind　reran　images　of　the　mand　ship's　fiery　demise；　that　slow　and　silent　fatality。

〃Marlene；〃　he　said　through　tears。

His　hand　had　found　the　holo…locket　she　had　given　him　on　the　bridge。　But　his　forefinger　was　frozen　on　the　activation　button；　his　mind　fearful　of　confronting　the　ghosts　the　device　was　meant　to　summon　up。　Still；　he　knew　that　he　had　to　force　himself　to　see　and　hear　her　again。。。before　he　could　let　the　past　die。

The　metallic　green　heart　opened　at　his　touch；　unfolding　like　a　triptych；　from　its　blood…red　holo…bead　center　wafted　a　phantom　image　of　Marlene。


〃Scott；　my　darling；　I　know　it　isn't　much；　but　I　thought　you'd　get　a　kick　out　of　this　trinket。　I'm　looking　forward　to　living　the　rest　of　my　life　with　you。　I　can't　wait　till　this　conflict　is　all　behind　us。　Till　we　meet　again；　my　love。。。〃


The　voice　that　had　been　Marlene's　trailed　off；　and　the　shimmering　message　returned　to　its　place　of　captivity。　Scott　closed　the　heart　and　clutched　it　tightly　in　his　fist；　wishing　desperately　that　he　could　so　easily　de…rezz　the　images　held　fast　in　his　own　heart。　Outside；　the　storm　continued　unabated；　echoing　the　dark　night　of　his　soul。　Lighting　fractured　the　alien　sky；　and　rainwater　ran　in　a　steady　stream　across　the　protective　curve　of　the　VT's　canopy。


In　the　morning　Earth's　skies　seemed　as　blue　as　the　seas　Scott　had　seen　from　space；　the　air　smelled　sweet；　washed　clean　of　last　night's　violence。　But　this　was　little　consolation。　Fear　and　sorrow　had　lulled　him　into　a　fitful　sleep；　and　the　stark　images　of　Marlene's　death　were　with　him　when　he　awoke。

At　a　clear　stream　near　the　crash　site；　he　filled　his　canteens　with　water。　Taking　in　morning's　soft　light；　the　spectacle　of　the　forest　itself；　the　profusion　of　bird　life；　he　suspected　that　Earth　could　be　a　tolerable　place；　after　all；　but　doubted　that　he　would　ever　feel　at　home　here。　He　promised　himself　that　he　would　turn　his　thoughts　to　the　mission　and　only　the　mission　from　this　point　on。　Insanity　was　the　only　alternative。

He　returned　to　the　Veritech　and　stowed　the　canteens　with　the　survival　gear　he　had　already　retrieved　from　the　mecha。　He　had　enough　emergency　rations　to　last　him　the　better　part　of　an　Earth　week；　if　he　didn't　e　across　a　settlement　or　city　by　then；　he　would　be　forced　to　forage　for　food。　And　given　what　little　information　he　had　about　edible　plants　and　such；　the　thought　was　hardly　an　appetizing　one。

He　turned　his　attention　now　to　the　one　item　that　was　likely　to　rescue　him　from　edible　plants　or　privation：　the　Cyclone　vehicle　stored　away　in　the　fighter's　small　cargo　partment。　A　well…concealed　sensor　panel　in　the　fuselage　gave　him　access　to　this；　and　in　a　moment　he　was　lifting　the　self…contained　Cyclone　free　of　the　cargo　hold。　In　its　present　collapsed　state　the　would…be　two…wheeled　transport　was　no　larger　than　a　foot　locker；　but　reconfigured　it　was　equivalent　to　a　1；000…cc　twentieth…century　motorcycle。　Which　in　fact　it　was；　after　a　fashion。

Originally　one　of　Robotechnology's　first　creations；　it　had　undergone　some　radical　modifications　under　Lang's　SDF…3　teams。　The　Expeditionary　Force　had　e　to　rely　upon　the　vehicle　as　much　as　it　had　on　the　Veritech　fighters；　even　though　its　design　was　still　a　basic　one：　a　hybrid　piston　and　Protoculture…powered　transformable　motorcycle　that　was　a　far　cry　from　the　Hovercycles　developed　on　Earth　during　the　same　time　period。　Unlike　that　Southern　Cross　marvel；　the　Cyclone　required　the　full　interaction　of　its　pilot；　whose　〃thinking　cap〃　and　specially　designed　armor　were　essential　to　the　functioning　of　the　vehicle's　Protoculture…based　mechamorphic　systems。　In　addition；　it　was　light　enough　to　carry；　and　wondrously　fuel…efficient。

Scott　carried　the　Cyclone　several　feet　from　the　fighter　and　set　about　reconfiguring　it；　which　entailed　little　more　than　flipping　the　appropriate　switches。　That　much　acplished；　he　transferred　his　survival　gear　to　the　cycle's　rear　deck　and　began　to　struggle　into　the　mecha's　modular　battle　armor…not　unlike　the　shoulder　pads；　hip　harnesses；　and　leg　and　forearm　protectors　worn　by　turn…of…the…century　athletes；　except　for　the　fact　that　the　armor　had　been　fashioned　from　lightweight　alloys。

Scott　was　wearing　Marlene's　holo…heart　around　his　neck　now　and　gave　a　last　look　at　it　before　snapping　the　armor's　pectorals　in　place。　It's　time；　my　love；　he　said　to　the　heart。

Again　he　told　himself　to　concentrate　on　the　mission。　He　recalled　mander　Gardner's　words：　If　only　one　of　you　survive　the　invasion；　you　must　locate　the　Invid　Reflex　Point　and　destroy　it　along　with　their　queen；　the　Regis。　Scott　had　no　idea　how　many　people　from　Mars　Division　had　survived　atmospheric　entry；　but　it　was　unlikely　that　any　of　them　had　touched　down　near　his　crash　site。　He　had　been　so　caught　up　in　the　destruction　of　the　mand　ship　that　he　had　failed　to　lock　the　proper　coordinates　into　the　VT's　autopilot。　As　a　consequence；　the　mecha　had　surely　delivered　him　far　from　any　of　the　dozen　preassigned　rendezvous　points　and　who　knew　how　far　from　the　Reflex　Point　itself。　The　stars　told　Scott　that　he　had　e　down　somewhere　in　the　southern　hemisphere；　which　put　thousands　of　miles　between　him　and　the　Regis　if　he　was　lucky；　oceans　between　them　if　not。　In　any　case；　north　was　the　direction　of　choice。

Scott　donned　his　helmet　and　mounted　the　Cyclone。　A　thumb　switch　brought　the　mecha　to　life；　he　found　his　confidence　somewhat　restored　by　the　throaty；　synchronous　firing　of　the　cycle's　systems。

Now　let's　get　on　with　evening　the　score　with　the　Regis　and　her　Invid　horde；　Scott　said　to　himself　as　he　set　off。

The　worst　thing　about　being　a　lone　survivor　were　the　memories　that　survived　with　you；　Scott　decided。　If　only　one　could　erase　them；　switch　them　off　somehow。　But　Scott　knew　that　he　couldn't；　the　people　one　loved　were　more　frightening　ghosts　than　anything　imagination　could　conjure　up。　And　they　couldn't　be　outrun。。。

Less　than　an　hour　from　his　crash　site；　Scott　was　surprised　to　find　himself　on　what　appeared　to　be　a　trail　or　an　ancient　roadway　lined　with　trees。　But　an　even　greater　shock　awaited　him　over　the　rise：　a　veritable　desert　at　the　foot　of　the　wooded　foothills　that　witnessed　his　crash；　stretching　out　toward　distant　barren　mountains。　Scott　slid　the　Cyclone　to　a　halt　and　stared　homesick　at　the　sight。

Who　said　there　were　no　Fantoma　landscapes　on　Earth？

Scott　had　never　heard　Wolff；　Edwards；　or　any　of　the　old…timers　brag　about　this。　It　was　almost　as　vast　as　Spheris！

Now　reassured　as　well　as　renewed；　Scott　twisted　the　Cyclone's　throttle　and　streaked　down　into　the　wastes。


Elsewhere　in　the　wastes　rode　a　survivor　of　a　different　campaign；　but　his　cycle　was　of　a　different　sort；　（twenty　years　old　if　it　was　a　day；　and　running　desperately　short　of　fuel　pellets）。

A　clear…eyed；　short；　sinewy　teenager　with　a　shaggy　mop　of　red　hair　and　an　unwashed　look　about　him…both　by　necessity　and　by　design…he　called　himself　Rand；　his　inherited　names　long　abandoned。　He　was　born　about　the　time　the　SDF…3　had　been　launched　from　Little　Luna；　and　he　had　seen　the　rise　and　fall　of　Chairman　Moran's　government；　the　invasion　of　the　Robotech　Masters；　and　humankind's　subsequent　regression　to　barbarism；　a　turn　of　events　that　had　culminated　with　the　arrival　of　the　Invid　and　their　easily　won　conquest。

Just　now　Rand　was　doing　what　he　did　best：　keeping　himself　alive。　His　old　bike　was　closing　in　on　the　object　he　had　seen　plummet　from　the　night　sky　two　days　ago；　something　too　slow　and　controlled　to　have　been　a　meteor；　too　massive　for　an　Alpha。　He　had　made　up　his　mind　to　track　its　fall；　abandoning　his　earlier　plans　to　try　f