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n。
In a neat； quiet suburb of the city served by an overhead rapid…transit system sat a modest little prefab cottage； its solar panels； guided by microprocessors； swinging slowly to follow the sun。 As a senior flight officer； Rick Hunter rated off base housing even though he was single； and liked the idea of getting away from the military when he could； even if his home looked like modular luggage。 As Skull Leader； he seldom got a chance to be there。
So Lisa Hayes took it upon herself to tidy up the place when he was away。 Her own rather more spacious quarters were nearby。
Neither of them was quite sure what the bond between them meant or where their panionship was going； but she had a key to his place； and he to hers。
Now she hummed happily to herself as she put away the last of the just…washed dishes。 Maybe I ought to bill him for maid services； she thought wryly。
But she knew better； she enjoyed being in his place； touching the things he touched； seeing reminders of him all around。 She hoped that the extended patrol up north didn't last too much longer…that he would be home soon so that they could be together again。
Lisa considered the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window。 Polarizing glass was all well and good； but curtains were what that window needed。
Will you listen to me？ Curtains！ Miss Suzy Homemaker！ She smirked at the apron she was wearing。 It was doubly funny because she was due back at the base soon for more meetings and briefings on the final construction details of the SDF…2； the new successor to the battle fortress。
And she meant to have a berth on that ship； to be the First Officer if she could； and go to the stars。 Ol' Suzy Homemaker herself。
She snorted a laugh as she moved into the bedroom。 Seeing it； she sighed。 Why does this place always look like a bear's been wintering here？
She raised all the blinds； opened all the windows； and moved around the room slowly； fondly。 When she smoothed the sheets to make up the bed； her hands lingered upon them； and she touched the pillows tenderly； remembering his head on them； and her own。
Her wrist chrono toned； reminding her she had to go soon。 When she straightened； her eye fell on something she hadn't seen before。
It lay on his desk； next to his spare flight helmet： a photo album bound in creamy imitation leather。 Lisa moved toward it unwillingly； knowing she shouldn't do what she was about to do but unable to stop herself。
The album was well worn； had obviously been leafed through many times。 The first page made her heart sink； There was a snapshot of Minmei seated on a park swing back in the Macross within the SDF…1； Rick standing behind her。 The other picture was a close…up taken of Minmei back at the start of her career； a wide…eyed gamine with flowing black locks framing her face。
Lisa sighed again。 What does he see in her？ What's she got except great looks； the singing voice that won the war； and superstardom？
It was Minmei on every page； glamour poses and home snapshots； portfolio glossies and PR photos。 Lisa got angrier and angrier as she thumbed through them。
Why do I have the impulse to strangle this girl？
Along with the anger came a pain so sharp and cold； it took her off guard。 Lisa had assumed she and Rick were solidifying something； strengthening the ties between them。 But the thought of his keeping this album； taking it out when Lisa wasn't there and fantasizing over it…that was too much to bear。
Having his panionship and friendship without his declared love was something she had accepted； albeit always with a secret hope。 But the photo album made her feel she had been taken for granted； a kind of emotional consolation prize。 Her self…respect simply wouldn't allow that。
Lisa slammed the album shut； tore off the apron； and strode for the front door。 As the door rolled shut to lock； she tossed Rick's spare house key onto the living…room rug； leaving it behind。
CHAPTER TWENTY…THREE
We won？ When you hear some military moron say that to you； spit on him！ Point out the graveyard that is Earth！ When he tells you how the military's going to make all that well again too； hold up the ash that used to be your home。
They won； all right； and they'd just love to win again。 And every time； it's you and I who lose。
From Lynn…Kyle's tract； Mark of Cain
Rick Hunter sat in the cockpit of the grounded Guardian and watched white spores take to the wind like miniature parasols。 Meanwhile； he wrestled with his thoughts。
The truth was that Earth was a dead end for a pilot。 Oh； there was the problem of the rebellious Zentraedi； to be sure； and the various fractious human munities。 But the war was over； and there were no flying circuses。 Maybe it would be easier to put up with the growing boredom of peacetime life if bigger things weren't brewing out beyond Earth's atmosphere。
Breetai and Exedore seemed to be at the source of it； and Gloval； Dr。 Lang； and Dr。 Zand。 Only everything was so secret that a mere squadron mander couldn't find out a thing。 Even Lisa professed not to know anything。 But scuttlebutt and the few hints Rick could get from his intel debriefings made him believe that the SDF…2 was slated for a big； big mission。
He was pretty sure that the SDF…2； and such Zentraedi warships as Breetai could get fully functional again； were going to carry the war to the Robotech Masters。 Humans and Zentraedi would go out and end the threat forever or die trying。
How could he not go？ Only。。。that was a voyage and a military operation that might make their previous campaign look like a weekend vacation by parison。 It would probably mean he would never see Earth and Minmei again。
Not that he'd seen much of Minmei in the last two years； but signing on for a trip to far…off star systems would strip away any hope。
But what else was there for him except flying？ He wished and prayed that there could be Minmei； but Minmei was so bound up in her glittering career that he rarely saw or heard from her。 On the SDF…2 mission； at least he would be with Lisa； and he was being more and more convinced that that was where he belonged。
Of course； the odds against surviving would be very high； but that was a bat pilot's lot。 And what better cause was there to serve； and die for； if it came to that？ He had a sudden vivid recollection of something Roy Fokker had told him。
An American president once said that the price of liberty is eternal vigilance； Rick。
It was on a 〃day〃 in SDF…1； out someplace by Pluto's orbit； when Rick joined the RDF There's no more flying for fun； Roy told him； stern and grave。 From now on you fly for the sake of your home and loved ones； Rick。
〃My home and loved ones； huh？〃 Rick muttered to himself。 He flicked a switch； and the canopy descended on whining servos。
〃All right； time to go flying； then。〃 He eased the throttle forward。 The Guardian's foot thrusters blew soil away and lifted it。 Rick was careful to skirt the patch of dandelions as he rose。 But the backwash sent hundreds of thousands of spores wafting into the air in hopes of finding some other kind plot of ground。
Rick tucked a single dandelion blossom into a seam of his instrument panel； mechamorphosed his ship to Fighter mode； and went ballistic； climbing toward the sun。 He set the mo rig to search for local traffic； part of the recon mission。 The equipment scanned the band and stopped at a transmission that carried a female human voice。
…here by my side；
Here by my side。
He jolted against his safety harness； reaching to get a stronger signal。 〃Minmei！〃
There was applause in the background。 Another voice he knew well came up。 〃You're listening to the beautiful Lynn…Minmei； broadcasting live and direct from Granite City！ This area is slowly rebuilding through the bined efforts of many wonderful people who are ceaselessly devoting their time and labor to a project that many considered hopeless。〃
Lynn…Kyle。 He sounded more like a pitchman than a costar now； but he still had that same hostility in his tone。
Granite！ Rick realized。 Not far away！ He was already checking his nav puters。
〃People Helping People is the theme of our tour；〃 Kyle went on。 〃And we don't consider the project hopeless at all！ How do you people feel about it？〃
Clapclapclapclap； from the audience； and a few yays。 Those shill questions always worked。 Rick's expression hardened； and he brought his stick over for a bank。
Granite City lay in the shadow of a Zentraedi flagship rammed like a Jovian bolt into the red dirt。 The outskirts of the place were still haphazard rubble from the war； but a few square blocks in the center had been made livable。
There were weakened foundations and angled slabs of paving and fractured concrete everywhere； but at least the streets were clear。
This most recent stop in what was to have been the triumphant Minmei People Helping People tour had attracted something under three hundred people in Granite； plus several Zentraedi who loomed over the crowd even when sitting and squatting。
The crowd was posed of sad…eyed people doing their best to believe they had a future。 Most were ragged； all were thin； and there were signs of deficiency diseases and other medical problems among them。
But at the urging of Lynn…Kyle and others in the loose…knit network of antigovernmentalists； Granite persisted in refusing to drop its status as an independent city…state or allow military relief teams in。
The Zentraedi were in better shape than the humans； the rations in the spiked ship could sustain them； though for some reason those seemed to have no nutritive value for Homo sapiens。 There had been a fine cordiality and hopefulness among the people of Granite at first； but now there was growing despair in this dissident model program。 Thus； this morale appearance by Minmei。
〃Yeah！ Let's hear it！〃 Lynn…Kyle yelled； working the mike at center stage； making beckoning motions with his free hand。 The crowd clapped again； a little tiredly。
〃And Granite doesn't need any outside interference； either！〃 he yelled。 He had spent fewer than four hours there in his entire life。
〃The good people here will take care of themselves and make Granite the great metropolis she once was！〃
The applause was even weaker this time around； and the more theatrically knowledgeable in the front rows could detect beads of flop…sweat on Kyle's brow。
〃But let's forget； for now； what the military warmongers have brought us to；〃 he said； almost scowling； then catching himself and flashing a bright smile。 〃As we listen to the song stylings of the marvelous； the inparable Lynn…Minmei！〃
Recorded music came up； and Minmei hit her mark right on cue； mike in hand。 She sang her latest hit。
I've made the right move at the right time！
We're on our way to something new！
Just point the way and I will follow！
Love feels so beautiful with you！
Rick followed the song； entranced； until a transmission cut through Minmei's singing。 〃mander Hunter； e in； please。〃
It was Ransom。 Rick switched to the tac net。 〃What is it？〃
〃You all right； skipper？ I've been trying to reach you for some time； thought you might've run into trouble。〃
Rick let a little impatience slip into his tone。 〃Is anything wrong？〃
Ransom looked at him out of a display screen next to the yellow dandelion； speaking precisely。 〃Nothing specific； boss。 Just wish you'd take your rover radio with you when you leave your ship to look around。 I worry； y' know？〃
Rick bit back the rebuke he had been putting together。 Of course he knew； he would have chewed out a subordinate for doing the same。
He sounded contrite； and it was real。 〃Sorry； Lieutenant。 But I came across something miraculous today。〃
Ransom stared。 〃Trouble with renegade Zentraedi？ Boss； what is it？〃
Rick took the dandelion from its place and held it close to the optical pickup。 〃Look what I found。 An entire field of them。〃
Ransom considered the flower。 〃Wait a minute。 Your zone wasn't inside the natural recovery planning zone。〃
Rick was ecstatic。 〃That's right！ But lemme tell ya； there are flowers in the northwest quadrant！〃
The usually morbid Ransom cracked a very slight smile。 〃I suppose we should have known the Earth would be starting her own recovery program。 Great news； huh；