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But for what reason? The towering Zentraedi warlord, master of a cloned
race that didn't know love, family, or sex, tried to imagine what the purpose
could be, why male and female might conceivably desire such intimacy. But when
he tried, he was assailed by waves of distaste and confusion, by nameless
half-seen visions that made him physically ill. He shunted the images aside.
Breetai lowered himself into his enormous command chair, still
considering the import of the wedding. "It seems she's taking this spying
mission of hers very seriously. Perhaps more seriously than she should."
His first conclusion was that Miriya the dedicated fighter was simply
undergoing the tremendous torment of such behavior to infiltrate the enemy and
learn the perverse secrets of their obscene social practices. But Breetai saw
something in Miriya's face, something that made the towering commander doubt
this analysis.
It was like the three spies, Konda, Rico, and Bron, all over again.
Breetai felt a certain dread. "Unless my senses deceive me, it would seem
she's enjoying herself in some peculiar fashion. Could it be that she too has
found the Micronian way of life too enjoyable to resist?"
Exedore answered, "It would appear, sir, that she cannot resist the
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charm of that Micronian pilot."
Breetai had seen kissing demonstrated when he captured Rick Hunter and
Lisa Hayes. He shuddered, recalling the disgusting display, and wondered how
any intelligent creature could bring itself to indulge in such baseness.
But the lure of the humans was undeniable; scores of Zentraedi soldiers
had secretly conspired to undergo micronization and had gone to live among
their former foes. It was the first such mutiny ever to have taken place in
the history of the warrior race. Part of the madness had to do with the young
human female Minmei and the oddly hypnotic power called "singing" that she
exercised.
"Our forces may be in more jeopardy than we believed," Exedore said.
"What if the traitors who went over to the human side were not merely mental
defectives, as we thought, but rather the first wave in a sea of such
deserters?"
Breetai rubbed his huge jaw, the one giant black eyebrow lowering. "It
appears this `love' business is a very powerful thing."
Exedore replied, "I'm afraid I agree with you, sir. It's an emotional
factor against which we Zentraedi have no defense. This `love' could be used
as a powerful weapon against us."
Breetai scowled at the image of laughing, joyous humans, of the
radiantly happy Miriya and proud, smiling Max. "Weapon, eh?"
"Yes. We must beware."
The intercepted coverage of the wedding showed them flashbulbs popping
and people applauding as Max and Miriya cut their cake. The wedding cake was a
tenfoot-high model of the SDF-1 in its knightlike Attack mode.
Breetai, growling in his rumbling bass, watched the proceedings angrily.
What was there about the blissful looks of Miriya and the Micronian that
exerted such a fascination, such a deep pull, on him? He told himself that it
was only a commander's need to study a dangerous enemy, refusing to believe
that he could feel such a thing as envy for the puny foe.
At the reception, the master of ceremonies was calling for quiet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today is a very special day. It's more than just
a wedding celebration; it's the bonding of two souls dedicated to the
protection of our Robotech colony. I'd like to introduce the man who's done so
much to make this a unique occasion, the commander of the SDF-1, Captain Henry
Gloval!"
There was plenty of applause even though people were still passing
around cake and freshening up their champagne after the several toasts that
had been drunk.
Gloval stood up, decked out in his dress uniform, laden with medals,
braid, and campaign ribbons galore. Rick, who knew the captain a little better
than most people there, got the impression that they were going to find out
why he had spared nothing to turn the wedding into a major occasion.
Gloval spoke. "Well, to begin with, I extend heartfelt congratulations
to Max and Miriya. This wedding carries with it a great historical
significance.
"As you all know, Miriya was a Zentraedi warrior who destroyed many of
our ships. She comes from a culture that we have grown to fear and hate."
Oh, no! Rick thought. What could Gloval be thinking of? Miriya sat rigid
as a statue, staring down at her plate. Max was white. The gathered guests
were listening in stunned silence.
"It is the Zentraedi who have caused our present situation," Gloval
pressed on. "They alone prevent our return to Earth-our homes and our beloved
families." One hand was balled into a fist now. "It is they who have caused
injury, destruction, and endless suffering!"
"Captain, please!" Max burst out, just at the same moment that Rick
yelled, "Captain!"
Gloval forged ahead. "Now, I know what you're thinking: `Why is he
choosing this time to remind us of these terrible things?' I remind you of
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them, ladies and gentlemen, because we must learn to forgive our enemies."
His image and his voice went out over screens throughout the fortress-in
the barracks, the lounges, the giant monitors in the public squares of Macross
City. "Not blindly, not out of ignorance, but because we are a strong and
willing nation. We cannot blame the Zentraedi for their inexplicable lust for
war. They have never known another way of life, and it has been their only
means of survival."
All through the battle fortress, people gazed up at the screens in
amazement-some with burgeoning hope, others with growing antagonism.
"Nor can we condemn individuals of that society for the mass insanity of
their leaders. Instead, we must look to their good nature. As you may know,
dozens of Zentraedi defectors are now aboard the SDF-1, having been reduced to
human size. They have made a request to stop the fighting, and I believe it is
a genuine request."
He turned to indicate the newlyweds. "The blood of these young people
was tested before the ceremony. Zentraedi blood was found to be the same as
human blood."
That started murmurs and whispers in the reception hall; in the ship and
the city at large, it ignited a thousand arguments and marked a turning point
in human thinking.
In the White Dragon, the Chinese restaurant belonging to Minmei's uncle
Max and aunt Lena, Mayor Tommy Luan and some others had come over to watch the
ceremonies on television. They heard Gloval say, "There is no reason why we
cannot coexist in peace. Let this occasion represent a future where all people
live in harmony."
Cheers and applause were rising, evidence of the general hunger for an
end to war. Gloval held his hands up to silence it. "Please, let me speak a
moment longer."
Voices in the background were heard, saluting Gloval for his leadership,
courage, and convictions. In the restaurant, Mayor Tommy Luan nodded his head
and wiped at a tear. "Captain Gloval is truly a man of peace. A great man."
There were others in the ship who didn't feel the same way, others who
smashed bottles in the street or shook a fist at Gloval's image. There had
been so many losses, so many deaths, and so much suffering since the aliens'
first attack that the hunger for revenge would not die easily.
Gloval had anticipated that, of course. "All of us have lost loved ones,
and it will be difficult not to harbor ill feelings toward the Zentraedi. But
somehow we must overcome these feelings! We must stop this senseless
destruction."
Far beneath the surface of the bleak Alaskan tundra, in the lowest
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