Chapter XI
Rick lay back on his bunk, chuckling grimly. The last time he'd been in this position, he'd been ordered on a commando mission. Why did the war seem to go on forever? Why was it that, when peace was finally at hand, strife had to multiply?
"Peace is only realized through battle," he heard a stealthy voice behind him.
He swirled around. Lisa was standing in the doorway. "Don't you ever knock?"
"Not enough panache," she replied, grinning. "But in response to your predictable self castigation, people start battles because they have beliefs that are so deeply held that negotiation by any other means is pointless. Life is worth only what individuals make of it, or else a priest and a murderer are of similar value. Battle ends only when mankind has no deeply held beliefs of any kind, like political moderates."
"How can you say that? Fighting battles is a wasteful expenditure of energy. Peace is the only way to live. Fear for one's life is counter-productive to true peace."
"A battle is only the physical manifestation of the philosophical clash between good and evil, right and wrong. Battles are waged in the hearts and minds before they are made incarnate in flesh and iron. As long as humans are alive, conflict will exist. Do you think that preaching peace in the face of a live grenade will solve any problems?"
"If people only know fear and war, then how can they choose peace and serenity for themselves?"
"Peace is still a choice even in the middle of a war, if a soldier loses the will to fight. Battle is used as a means to achieve peace by eliminating opposition."
"Wholesale slaughter is not a justifiable means of achieving peace! How does the elimination of some life justify the preservation of others? All life is sacred."
"Yes, but if something is sacred, then destroying it becomes a sacrilege and therefore the destroyer defiles himself. All that is defiled must be destroyed, and that is not an affront to humanity."
"You saw what Maistroff plans to unleash on those Zentraedi!" he growled. "That is what wars do to people!"
"No, this is what people do to people," she replied. "A war is a series of events caused by humans. Events don't kill people, for they have no ability to physically form the intent to do that."
"But what about the desires and emotions that cause these kinds of things?"
"That is beyond our power, Rick. We can only act where we are and change what happens there, and let it ripple into the world."
He sighed. "How many people have died as a result of our actions, Lisa?"
"Do you really want an answer to that, Rick?"
"Huh?"
"As of this morning, the tally was two hundred pilots, fifteen Macross City residents, and well over three hundred nameless, faceless Zentraedi troopers. Almost five hundred recorded deaths."
"And are we any closer to peace or stability than when we started this?"
"Define stability. We started this because we wanted to protect our planet from Zentraedi destruction. They destabilized our planet, we made it right again. With the various skirmishes we've engaged in, they've made things bad, we made things right again. Stability is a relative concept, in the grand scheme of things."
"But if all we're doing is reacting to their actions, then we aren't preventing anything, are we?"
"No, we're not. But denouncing battle won't lead to peace. Remember, Massachusetts passed legislation outlawing the Vietnam War; Berkeley, CA, has made war a criminal offense. Who listened to them?"
"If people think wars and sorrow are so bad, why can't they listen to their own beliefs?"
"Because when people feel so keyed up to the point of fighting, they believe so deeply and righteously in their cause that all other considerations are lost in the fog. But the closest thing to perfect beauty in this realm of existence is a warrior with no distractions, whether engaged in political or other forms of combat. The fluidity of purpose, the confidence, the energy spent in one productive moment after another, it all adds up to near perfection."
"And what if you're afraid to die?"
"That very emotion is what prevents the vast majority of people from fighting. They have no desire to lose everything they have gained. They want the benefits and not the hard work. There is no gain without loss, and that is what most people fail to grasp. A controlled battle is one where the losses are maintained and the gains are more than able to offset the losses."
"Why can't people find a less than lethal way of fighting? Let robots duke it out, take humanity out of the line of fire?"
"Now, Rick, you should know that answer by now," Lisa chuckled indulgently. "If humanity has no stake in the battles they start, then the outcomes are meaningless. And if conflict is meaningless, then passion is meaningless, love becomes lost to the ages, and cultures fall apart. It is conflict that holds humanity together."
"I guess, since it brought us together, didn't it?"
"You've got that right, flyboy. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
Rick stared into the endless reflections that he saw deep in the recesses of her emerald eyes, and saw how full of life and love they were. But he also saw how much she had lost. Her father, her fiancé, Karl Riber, her academy friends, her friends and co-workers at Alaska Base…they were similar, Lisa and he. The only difference was how often they had to deal with death. Every time he flew, and every time the squadron engaged an enemy force, there was always at least one "friendly letter" to write to grieving family members in some normal, non-military setting. It was as if his pilots were living shields for him, and that they had paid his tab and had enabled him and Lisa to get to this point in their relationship.
She reached out with her long, supple arms, which seemed to beg for contact, and he was only too happy to oblige her. They grappled with each other with such ferocity that any observer unfamiliar with their history would have considered it a wrestling match. Their lips met with such passion and gravity that, were it a physical force, several Zentraedi divisions would have felt its wrath. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you, too," he replied.
"I'm glad we've got the same shifts off, this doesn't happen too often."
"Me, too."
Then, they collapsed on the bunk, unwilling to return to the reality on the other side of the door.
