"02 - Battle Cry" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)
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-"
"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."
Colonel Maistroff followed up: "Do you find it difficult having male friends?"
Minmei laughed. "Not at all! In fact, I have one really good friend who's just like a brother to me."
Rick slapped himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. A brother?! A BROTHER?!! And just then, while Minmei was taking in the applause, his pager went off. He raised his eyes to the starlight, wondering who was calling him out this time.
CHAPTER TEN
"Rome wasn't built in a day-Macross City was!"
Mayor Tommy Luan
Had it not been for the Miss Macross pageant, I might never have undertaken the journey which led me to enlightenment-a journey I hope to guide you through in the pages that follow. It was only after I had opened my heart to the First Truth-that beauty and fame were not only transitory but illusory-that my soul was sufficiently prepared to accept the profound wisdom of the heavens: the knowledge that we are but seeds in the cosmic garden, potential given form and the will to evolve, true children of the starsbeings of noble light!
Jan Morris, Solar Seeds, Galactic Guardians
When accounts of The First Robotech War were finally written, not one of that war's many chroniclers failed to point out the curious turn of events precipitated by the Miss Macross pageant. The word "irony" appears often in those accounts, but irony is a judgment rendered after the fact and, in the case of Lynn-Minmei and the part she would come to play in the hostilities, much too simple and soft a term.
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