"Jack McKinney - Robotech 03 - Homecoming" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

the humans' attitudes toward the Zentraedi, but the Zentraedi had hardly been
mentioned.
Instead, there was a lot of strange business with passing plants around-
flowers, to be precise-and a very confusing level of noise and emotion,
virtually all of the outpouring directed at Minmei.
Konda in particular felt that they were close to uncovering some important
military secret. There was no question but that the enemy was highly motivated;
perhaps some new sort of mind control technique would be revealed.
They recognized Minmei from transmissions of her that they'd intercepted
on their original signal-intelligence mission, of course. She'd abandoned the
bizarre armor the Micronians called a bathing suit, and wore a slightly less
revealing but even flimsier cover. The trio had as yet seen no demonstration of
Protoculture powers from the humans' garments, but they were still very edgy.
The crowd was still carrying on over Minmei. "Hey, what's going on? A
riot?" Bron yelled over the uproar.
They were packed in together tightly by the massed crowd, but Konda got
his hands onto Bron's shoulders. "Don't panic! I don't think it's a riot; it
seems to be something else..."
Rico was nearly at the end of his rope, sweating and shuddering a bit; a
good old fashioned anti-enemy hate rally was something anybody could understand,
but this was utter chaos! He covered his ears with his hands, squeezing his eyes
shut. "Oh, my head!"
He began to slump in a near faint. His companions managed to catch him
somehow in the press of the crowd. Just then, Minmei came to the edge of the
stage in a convergence of spotlights and the gathered residents of Macross began
applauding and cheering all over again.
"Now what's the matter?" Bron asked, refering to Rico as well as the
Minmei situation.
Chairs had appeared from somewhere, and Rick, Lisa, Max, and Ben were
sitting uncomfortably. Minmei, angelic in the spotlights, indicated them with a
sweeping gesture. "To celebrate their return, my first song this evening is
dedicated to these four heroes and all the others who guard and defend us!"
She threw kisses to the crowd as the band came up, uptempo. Streamers and
confetti rained down, and light effects blazed. As she threw her arms wide, she
seemed to be a creature of pure light, of spirit, of magic. The streamers and
confetti rained down on the crowd, too, and many joined in, joyously, knowing
the words, arms around each others' shoulders.

"Stage lights flashing,
The feeling's smashing,
My heart and soul belong to you
And I'm here now, singing,
All bells are ringing,
My dream has finally come true!"

In a time when the most adored performers were unapproachable and
inaccessible, she was somehow the exact opposite of the media sirens who reigned
elsewhere. She was, after all, one of the citizenry, another Macross Island
refugee like virtually everybody else aboard. Her success and stardom could as
easily have been theirs-was theirs in a way.