09_the_final_nightmare-第42章

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〃Long　as　you　don't　destroy　yourself　at　the　same　time。　Or　me；〃　she　cautioned。　He　heard　her　concern　for　him　in　her　tone；　and　in　the　midst　of　his　killing　wrath；　he　felt　a　calm；　clear　sanity　flowing　from　her　to　himself。

But　a　hatchway　loomed　up　before　them　just　then。　〃Look　sharp；　now；〃　she　said。

They　took　it　ATAC　style；　poised　to　either　side　with　their　backs　against　it；　like　infantry　in　house…to…house　fighting；　or　SWAT　cops　going　in。　Another　red's　shots　fireballed　through　the　hatchway　past　them。

Zor　waited　for　the　right　moment；　went　through　the　hatchway　firing；　bent　low；　and　rammed　his　foe　shoulder…on。　Dana　followed；　waiting　for　a　clear　shot。


〃There　are　my　people！　Oh　no；　no。。。〃

Musica　was　nearly　collapsed　against　a　crystal　concavity　of　a　viewport　taller　than　herself；　seemingly　close　to　a　faint。　Bowie；　Angelo；　and　the　others　halted　in　some　confusion；　not　sure　what　she　meant　and　thoroughly　spooked　by　the　abandoned　residential　district　around　them。

The　Humans　had　been　forced　to　leave　their　tanks　behind；　to　pass　through　the　tight　confines　of　the　Human…scale　areas。　They　were　armed　and　armored；　though。

The　other　troopers　set　up　security　and　fingered　their　rifles；　as　Bowie　caught　Musica　just　before　she　slumped。　She　was　again　wearing　the　ceremonial　vestments　of　her　office…the　blue　tights　and　torso…wrapping；　the　cold　alloy　ring　around　her　neck　with　its　arrowheadlike　emblem。

She　had　found　the　clothes　in　an　empty　guard　mand　center　and；　for　some　reason；　insisted　on　changing　into　them　while　the　ATACs　searched　nearby。　But　there　had　been　no　sign　of　her　sisters　and　her　people。

Bowie　couldn't　help　worrying　about　the　ceremonial　clothing。　The　Masters　had　brought　it　with　them　from　their　other　flagship　and　held　it　ready。　Zor　had　been　pelled　to　turn　traitor；　must　Bowie　fear　such　a　thing　from　Musica？

Now；　though；　the　riddle　of　the　missing　clones　was　answered；　and　the　answers　made　a　horrifying　sense。　〃They　are　outside　the　ship！〃　Musica　added　in　a　small；　forlorn　voice。　She　had　sensed　it；　but　the　enormity　of　such　a　thing；　the　sheer　inprehensibility　of　it；　had　kept　her　from　considering　it　seriously。

The　troopers　gathered　around　Musica　and　saw　what　was　going　on。　There　were　many　ships；　drifting　close　by　because　the　Masters'　new　flagship　hadn't　finished　its　waste　disposal　yet；　every　viewport　and　dome　in　the　inert　bat　vessels　out　there　was　crammed　with　motionless；　seemingly　sleeping　clones。

Louie　Nichols　looked　out　at　it　all　and　thought；　as　his　stomach　turned；　of　an　animal　gnawing　its　own　leg　off　to　escape　a　trap's　iron　teeth。　What　the　Masters　had　done　was　infinitely　worse。　God；　it's　all　stripped　away！　passion。。。mercy。

The　pure　intellect　and　the　rational　organization　of　society…this　is　where　they　point。　Dana　was　right。　He　teetered　a　little；　then　caught　his　balance；　and　looked　around　to　see　if　anyone　else　had　noticed。　But　they　were　all　transfixed。

Nova　Satori　looked　out　at　the　sight；　rocked　with　surprise　at　herself　because；　until　this　awful　moment；　she　had　never　really　been　able　to　bring　herself　to　think　of　the　aliens　as　Human　beings。　She　had　never　thought　of　them　as　creatures　with　souls；　all　Zor's　appeal　and　powers　of　persuasion　aside。　But　she　gazed　upon　genocide　and　knew　she　had　been　blinding　herself。　It　hadn't　taken　so　very　much　ordi…psych　indoctrination　or　so　very　many　pep　talks　from　Supreme　mander　Leonard　and　Colonel　Fredericks　to　set　her　attitudes　in　concrete。

Now；　though；　those　were　wiped　away。　There　were　people　out　there　who　needed　rescue。

There　were　other　castaways；　set　adrift　in　spacesuits　and　smaller　craft。　Now　why　didn't　those　Masters　just　space　'em？　a　practical　side　of　Angelo　wondered。　Why　leave　'em　safe　and　sound；　as　it　were？　Maybe　the　Masters　meant　to　e　back　and　reclaim　their　slaves；　if　the　Masters　won。

But　the　ATACs　intended　to　see　to　it　that　the　Masters　didn't　win。　〃Are　they　alive？〃　Bowie　asked；　gripping　Musica　by　the　shoulders。

〃Yes；　but　doomed。　Cut　off　from　the　Protoculture　and　the　Masters'　will。〃

And　from　the　music　of　the　Cosmic　Harp；　she　admitted　to　herself。　The　Cosmic　Harp　was　nowhere　to　be　found；　perhaps　it　had　been　destroyed　in　the　first　flagship。　She　was　cut　off　from　it　forever；　a　pain　as　sharp　as　any　physical　wound。

〃A　rescue　mission　would　be　just　about　impossible；〃　Louie　said　in　his　best　mechie；　nonmittal　voice。　But　within；　he　was　plotting　his　own　personal　vector　along　new　grids；　and　changing　parallax。　There　were　more　spacecraft　in　the　mother　ship。　Maybe；　sometimes；　trying　the　impossible　is　the　whole　point。　〃Maybe　we　can〃

Musica　cut　him　off。　〃Allegra！　Octavia！　My　sisters　are　nearby！〃　Her　eyes　rolled　up　so　that　only　the　whites　showed；　and　Bowie　had　to　bear　her　up。

He　held　her　close；　so　that　he　breathed　her　sweet　breath；　almost　tasted　it。　〃Are　they　alive？〃


Blue…haired　Allegra；　sundered　from　the　harmonies　upon　which　she　and　her　Muse　sisters　had　lived　as　upon　food；　drink；　and　the　air　they　breathed；　found　a　troubling　and　yet　forting　new　orchestration　in　ministering　to　those　around　her　who　were　suffering。　She　hadn't　known　she　knew　how　to　do　it；　and　yet　the　harmonies　assured　her；　conducted　her　through　every　movement。

Now　she　was　cooling　the　brow　of　a　feverish　stonemason　clone　with　a　damp　cloth；　feeling　Octavia's　gaze　upon　her。

Allegra；　kneeling　there　by　the　stone　bench　that　had　been　made　a　sickbed；　said；　〃His　bio…index　has　fallen　too　low；　and　his　own　reserves　are　gone。　I'm　afraid　there　is　no　hope　for　him。〃　The　clone　was　pale　white；　sweat　slick　along　his　face　and　neck；　long　hair　damp　and　clinging；　and　yet　his　skin　was　cold。

But　Octavia　told　Allegra；　〃There　is　always　hope！〃　and　wondered　where　the　certainty；　the　rightness　of　the　words　that　made　them　a　new　harmony；　had　e　from。　All　the　old　certainties　had　been　burnt　away；　but　in　the　ashes　she　was　finding　bright；　warming　determination　that　had　yet　to　find　its　form。

Allegra　looked　at　her　dubiously。　〃I　wish　Musica　would　e。〃　They　sensed　that　she　was　near；　ever　the　centerpiece　and　the　wellspring　of　their　power。

〃Without　the　eternal　Song　of　Musica's　Harp；〃　the　stonemason　clone　who　rested　under　Octavia's　dove…gentle　hand　said；　〃I　have　no　will　left　to　live。〃

How　much　harder　do　you　think　it　is　for　me？　she　thought。

〃You　must　not　say　that！〃　Octavia　found　that　her　voice　had　bee　harsh；　a　manding　note　a　Clonemaster　might　use；　or　even　a　Robotech　Master。　〃We　must　learn　to　live　on　our　own。〃

The　words　and　the　very　wisdom　of　them　had　e　unbidden。　Suddenly　there　was　a　current　of　awareness　in　the　big　holding　chamber；　which　lifted　the　clones'　lassitude　and　fed　power　back　to　her。　Some　shackle　she　had　never　felt；　even　though　it　had　confined　her　life　and　her　art；　had　been　broken。　But　the　rightness　of　what　she　had　said　was　a　clarity　that　she　couldn't　deny　or　stifle；　a　pureness　of　a　profound　inner　music　she　had　never　heard　before。

A　tech　clone　stood　up　next　to　his　pallet；　nearby。　Weaving　as　he　stood；　he　got　out；　〃We　know　nothing　of　the　Dead　Life；　the　Life　of　the　One。　We　only　know　the　triumvirates；　and　now　the　triumvirates　are　no　more。〃

Octavia　didn't　realize　she　was　moving；　as　she　stood　up　and　gathered　her　half…shawl；　the　words　flowing　to　her　as　notes　from　same　new；　unsuspected　song。　〃Then　it's　time　for　us　all　to　learn　a　new　way　to　live。　Musica　is　willing　to　stand　on　her　own　two　feet　and　survive。〃

Whence　e　these　thoughts？　she　belabored　herself；　brain　roiling。　Perhaps　some　had　been　transferred　to　her　by　the　link　with　Musica；　and　there　was　the　breakdown　of　the　Masters'　power；　the　depletion　of　the　Protoculture；　and　the　silence　of　the　Cosmic　Harp。　The　suspect　sources　were　many。

But　the　central　melody　of　it；　Octavia　somehow　knew；　came　from　within：　a　music　long　subsumed　by　the；　narrow；　repetitive　themes　the　Masters　had　forced　the　Muses　to　play。

〃We　still　may　be　rescued；　or　save　ourselves；〃　Allegra　added。　Octavia　was　shocked　at　first；　but　then　felt　more　sisterly　to　her　than　she　ever　had。

But　Allegra's　patient　hiked　himself　up　on　his　elbows；　feverish；　to　say　as　if　in　some　fortune…telling　trance；　〃Even　if　we　are　rescued；　who　among　us　could　live　a　life　so　forlorn？　A　life　where　the　triumvirates　are　broken　apart？　We　are　parts；　we　are　not　whole！〃

Octavia　didn't　know　how　to　answer　that；　exactly；　she　hadn't　the　right　words　in　her