CHAPTER 2
Although the Zentraedi and Human peoples were learning to co-exist, neither of them were growing comfortable. The Zentraedi way of life was totally incompatible with life on Earth. As much as they wanted to – and they certainly had no choice – the alien race could not become accustomed to living as Humans.
They appeared to be cold, prideful people, but in reality they were very afraid. Life on Earth, and the freedoms and emotions that came with it, were totally foreign things to them. Most of them genuinely wanted to fit in. But a small minority of rebels – the Malcontent warriors – was giving all Zentraedi a bad name.
And with good reason; the Malcontent were a terrifying threat. They were Zentraedi soldiers and war generals who suffered what the government called "Malcontent Syndrome." Unable to conform to Human life, they amassed together into armies and lay siege to the cities of Earth. The Robotech Defense Force had been keeping them at bay for nearly two years. Meanwhile, scientists labored intensely to find a cure for Malcontent Syndrome.
The human population hated the Zentraedi. The world governments were trying their best to encourage acceptance, but most people wouldn't hear it. Protestors voiced their hatred whenever possible. Most people weren't as raucous, but they held a deep resentment toward the alien race.
Perhaps the biggest sign of trouble was the growing popularity of Zentraedi slavery among humans.
Underground groups were making a considerable profit by selling Zentraedi girls as personal servants. They would round up female Zentraedi warriors, hold them in "control units," and condition them with cruel and inhuman means.
It was very illegal, but Zentraedi slaves were becoming all the rage among the rich businessmen of New Macross. The RDF was aware of the problem, but the Malcontent were keeping the military too busy. Local police were asked to deal with the situation, and rarely did anything to even investigate reports of slavery.
Doctor Melina Ferrin, one of the best-known Zentraedi conditioners, lived at a beautiful estate on the shore of New Macross. She was one of the richest people on the island.
"I'm confident in my team's abilities. So confident that my company will guarantee your Zentraedi for two years. No other establishment offers that kind of insurance."
Doctor Ferran was blunt and sharp-witted by nature. Rarely did she waste time on small-talk and pleasantries. She was a tall, slender woman with fiery red hair and a carefully-pressed business suit. Her appearance seemed to match her razor-sharp mind perfectly.
She leaned forward, pressing her hands on the hood of a stretch limousine. The infamous political activist Lynn Kyle was right before her.
Lynn was taller than she'd expected. His Chinese heritage was minimal, and Lynn was a broad-shouldered, imposing man. He spoke with determination and power. His cousin, the famous singer Lynn Minmei, was nothing like him.
He passed a photograph across the glossy hood of the car. "I want the Zentraedi girl to be identical to that photograph."
Doctor Ferran took the photo. It was Minmei, Kyle's cousin, dressed in a beautiful evening gown and smiling brightly. She was small, petite and bubbling with life.
"To look like Minmei?" asked Ferran with a smile.
"No questions asked," said Kyle.
"Of course not. I have an entire selection of girls that'll match this description."
"Perfectly," said Kyle, with stern eyes. "Or no deal."
"I understand, Mister Lynn. You won't be disappointed."
Kyle's limousine door opened and two armed soldiers stepped out. They escorted him into the car, and as it passed by her, Lynn Kyle's window rolled down.
"If you tell anyone about this," he said, "I'll have you completely ruined."
Doctor Ferran smiled. "I respect your privacy, sir. I'll be calling you in a few weeks."
Lisa Hayes leaned against a tall fence, topped with barbed wire and adorned with various warning signs. Beyond it was New Macross International Airport. The concrete flatlands used to be home to commercial jet liners that carried millions of people across the world. But the RDF had taken over the facility and made it into a Veritech airfield. Powerful VF-1 fighters flew back and forth around the airport all day long, patrolling New Macross and its surrounding cities. The citizens were beginning to hate the sights and sounds. But at least they were protected, for now, from the Malcontent.
Lisa watched the tall towers and their spinning radars, and tried to count the Veritechs flying in taxi, waiting to land. This was the last time she'd see the airport as a commander.
Admiral Lisa Hayes, she thought with a stir of excitement. Admiral Lisa Hayes.
The autumn wind blew at her long jacket. She tied it up tighter and looked at her watch. Rick was late coming in again. If he didn't show up soon, she might need to call a cab and meet him before the ceremony.
As long as he's all right, we'll work something out.
She heard a siren blare. Ground crews pulled equipment off the runways and the landing strips came to life with bright lights. A Veritech fighter, painted in green camouflage, was being pulled from its hangar. The pilot was still climbing up the ladder to the cockpit.
And then she saw the strangest looking airplane descend from the clouds…
"Base, this is Skull One. Has our Phantom friend touched down?"
Rick slowly brought the Skull One down from the clouds. As he banked left, he could see the airport far below him. The blue Vermillion fighter descended beside him. The pilot, ace lieutenant Max Sterling, looked to Rick and gave him a thumbs-up. Rick returned the gesture.
"Roger that," said the radio voice from below. "Phantom has just landed. Skull and Vermillion, start your descent and land on runways Three and Five, respectively."
"Roger base, Skull ready," said Rick.
Vermillion ready, said Max's calm voice. Let's bring 'em in, sir. We've got a ceremony to attend.
"We sure do... oh no!" Rick pulled back the sleeve of his flight suit and checked his watch. "We're running a little late, Max. Let's make this a quick one."
The fighters dove together and fell fast. Rick was amazed at how synchronized he and Max still were after all this time. They flew side by side, but Rick still had the lead, and Max was able to mimic his movements perfectly.
The rocky landscape of New Macross grew dangerously close. Rick and Max were at landing height and the airstrips were fast approaching. Both pilots dropped their landing gear and slowly raised their air brakes. Streams of vapor ran off the surface of the wings as the Veritechs came down for landing.
We'll make it in time, said Max.
"I hope so. I can't miss this."
Lisa's really looking forward to it.
"So am I…it's a little hard to believe she'll be an Admiral."
Your little Lisa is growing up!
Rick laughed. He felt the tarmac of the landing strip bumping his wheels. The blinking runway lights were blurring past him and the control tower was fast approaching. He could have pulled off a ten-point landing in his sleep.
"Feels like just the other day she was yelling orders at me," said Rick.
You know, you'd make Admiral too, if you didn't insist on staying in the air.
Max's fighter came down on the runway adjacent to Rick's. He touched down just as effortlessly.
"This is all I'm good at," said Rick. "I'd make a terrible Admiral."
I dunno, boss…there's been talk…
"I don't want to hear it. I'm finally getting comfortable here. I'll stick with what I know."
Rick buttoned up a dress shirt as quickly as he could. A cell phone was balanced between his shoulder and his ear. He was fumbling through his locker with one hand, trying to find the belt he'd thrown in there. Lisa's going to kill me, he thought.
Max waved from a few lockers down. "Here! Got an extra one." He tossed a belt across the locker room.
"Thanks Max," said Rick. He looked down at the phone and interrupted the garbled voice coming through. "Listen, General Reave…I mean…sir! I respect your decisions…but this isn't a good idea! You can't keep separating me from Lieutenant Joons like this."
As he listened to the general's reply, he noticed that his shirt was buttoned wrong. He growled under his breath and pulled it apart again.
"Yeah…I know he's a good pilot! But he's young, sir. He needs to stick with me a little longer. He isn't ready to…"
Rick dropped the phone. It crashed on the hard ground and broke.
"Oh well," said Max from across the locker room. "That conversation was about over anyway."
Rick kicked the phone into his locker. "Great," he sighed. "I've gotta call Lisa! How am I…"
Max tossed his own cell phone to Rick. "Catch!"
"Heh, thanks Max. Guess we're still on the same page after all this time."
"Yeah, I know," nodded Max. He straightened his bright blue hair with a comb. "It felt like we were still flying together, didn't it?"
"Yeah."
The mood grew somber for a moment. Rick buttoned his shirt for the second time; Max neatly organized his locker and slammed it shut. Not much had changed over the years. Max still knew how to back up his old leader.
With a crash and a mess of laundry flying through the air, Michael Joons stumbled into the hall. He kicked away a dented laundry cart.
"Commander Hunter, sir!" he called, and tried to salute as he zipped up his Veritech flight suit. He looked exhausted.
Rick told him to calm down. "What's going on?"
"They're calling me back up, sir."
Joons opened his locker with a jolt. It almost hit Rick in the face.
"Up where?" asked Rick. "You just finished your run for the day."
"No sir! A military UAV was caught in a firefight with some Malcontent…down in the New Macross Warehouse District. I guess the crew is okay, but the truck is damaged. I've gotta escort it back before they run into more trouble."
Rick shook his head. From inside the locker room, he could hear the loud screams of Valkyrie fighters, constantly taking off and landing at the base.
"They're wearing us out," Rick sighed.
Max nodded. "They're trying…I wonder how much longer we can hold them off."
The old F-4 Phantom was dormant atop a giant steel pedestal, in front of the tower at Macross Base airfield. As soon as the Phantom had landed, a crew had de-commissioned it, and a Destroid had placed it on its new resting place – as a monument to times past.
The venerable old jet was almost a legend. It was the perfect backdrop for Lynn Kyle's latest political rally.
"What has the Robotech Defense Force done for you?" he shouted into a microphone. "What service have they performed for you – the people of this new world? And let me pose another question…who elected them?"
A mass of people had gathered at the steps of the control tower. They watched the charismatic Lynn Kyle as he stepped up higher, raising his voice as he went further up the steps.
He pointed at a husband and wife. "Did you elect the RDF?"
The whole crowd replied in unison – No!
"That's right!" said Kyle. "They were not elected! The RDF is a washed-up, suffering military faction that doesn't work for anyone. When the Zentraedi came, the RDF took it upon themselves to engage in warfare. But it wasn't war that solved our disputes, was it?"
No! screamed the crowd.
"It was kindness, understanding, and love. Our wonderful Miss Minmei taught us that!"
They cheered, at the mention of Minmei's name.
"New Macross doesn't need a bunch of washed-up soldiers bullying it around, and pretending to be a government! New Macross needs a true democracy – one that will care for the people, provide for the people, and protect the people!"
His words were met with roaring applause. The crowd chanted his name – Lynn Kyle, Lynn Kyle. They held up posters and signs – Down with Death. Zentraedi Are People Too. No More War.
And the most prolific sign of them all: SDF-Waste!
Lisa watched the demonstration from across the street. She was burning with emotion. Part of her wanted to storm into the mob of people and beat them senseless. A bigger part of her wanted to choke the life out of Lynn Kyle.
And most of all, she was deeply and personally hurt.
She found Rick at last; he'd come out of the base through a different exit than usual. He was probably trying to avoid the rally altogether. She didn't blame him.
He waved to her excitedly as he stepped onto the curb. Lisa laughed; Rick was as boyish as ever. He had such an energy about him – it was contagious, even in such depressing times.
"Hey Admiral – whoa!"
Rick tried to step into the street, but a car nearly ran him over. Lisa gasped.
"Pay attention, silly!"
"Sorry!" said Rick. Another car passed by.
"Ace fighter pilot," Lisa giggled, "killed by jaywalking!"
Three more cars whizzed by. It was getting late, but the streets were still busy. Rick looked back and forth anxiously.
"Yeah…this is awkward!" he grinned.
"Yes, very much!"
He saw his chance. A city bus was stopping to let off its riders. Rick jumped into the street and bolted across. He made it to the other side with time to spare.
"My hero!" Lisa cried, and gave him a playful kiss.
"Ah, but for you, Miss Hayes, I'd cross a New Macross freeway…in rush hour."
"Oh, how romantic!"
There was an even more difficult task at hand – calling a taxi. Both Rick and Lisa tried hailing, but none of the cabs would stop. They were stranded at the street corner, staring at Lynn Kyle's anti-RDF demonstration.
Lisa gave a sigh. She leaned against a lightpole and shook her head, watching Lynn throw his fist in the air, and hearing the cheers from the crowd.
Rick came back from the curb. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I…I dunno. I just…oh Rick, doesn't that drive you crazy?"
"Hmm?"
"You know…over there." Lisa waved her hand flippantly at the demonstration. "All that garbage. The protests…Lynn Kyle and the whole Freedom movement…"
He gave the protesters a passing glance, but nothing more. "No," he said. "Not really."
"Not even a little?"
Rick smiled as another taxi cab passed them by. "We're doing something important…something that has to be done. Not everybody understands it. But I guess…there's nothing we can really do about that."
Another cab flew by them, and they silently decided to just walk to Lisa's place. Veritech fighters roared overhead and busy traffic whizzed past the sidewalk. After a short while, Lisa looked back at the demonstration in front of the base.
She sighed and shook her head. "It just seems so…disrespectful," she said. "After everything we've done…everything we've given up…"
"I know," said Rick. He kicked an empty can of Petite Cola out of his path.
"Rick…this might sound weird…but sometimes…doesn't it feel like we've lost something? Something really…significant."
He nodded and looked up to her. "Yeah…I think I know what you mean."
"Sometimes I feel like I'm so caught up in this war…that I just…missed out on so many things. It's almost like I gave something up, and I can never get it back."
He wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled. "There's still time," he said.