Chapter 16
Rick stood behind a giant mess of microphones, at a podium that was nearly as tall as he was. The seal of New Macross served as his backdrop. He was in his military dress blues, fielding questions from a mob of reporters. The flash bulbs were starting to get to him.
"Commander Hunter! You've often been compared to the late Roy Fokker. What was it like, working with him?"
Rick dwelled on the question for a few seconds. "What was it like," he replied. "Well, I can tell you this. No matter how good you thought you were, Roy was better. I still haven't found a more skilled pilot. I don't think I ever will."
"How about Sterling? Or his wife, the Zentraedi? Don't they stand up?"
Rick laughed. "They're both terrific pilots in their own right. But I think Roy beats us all."
"Is it true that you were also close friends with Fokker?"
"Absolutely," nodded Rick. "We were very close."
A reporter from the Macross Enquirer muscled his way to the front. "Commander!" he shouted. " It's reported that your kill count isn't as high as your days on the SDF-1. To what do you attribute that?"
The question startled him; he struggled for an answer. I don't believe that, he thought. These guys look at me like I'm some kind of athlete!
"Uh, well..." he began. "I'm working with different people now. I'm using different Veritechs and there's a lot of situations we didn't have when we were stationed on the SDF-1. I don't think you can really compare the two."
"Is it true that you haven't had an exclusive fighter since the loss of Skull One?"
Rick perked up even more. "Yes... that's true. We alternate Veritechs, usually." He chuckled a little. "Seems like they take one from me just as I'm getting used to it."
"How long will you continue flying?" asked the reporter.
Until they kill me, thought Rick. But he restrained himself and replied, "as long as I can get into a Veritech."
A reporter from a competing gossip paper appeared from the crowd. "Rick!" he called boldly. "When do you find the time for a little fun?"
"...Excuse me?" asked Rick.
"Well, you're barely past your teenage years and you're commanding a Veritech squadron! What does a guy like you do for a good time?"
Oh no, thought Rick. This one's gonna be in the papers. He thought on the question, longer than he did the others. "Have you ever flown a VF-1?" he replied with little confidence. "I'd say that's pretty fun."
"Aw, but we know about all that! What about your time off?"
"What time off?" laughed Rick nervously. "Well, I guess I perform at airshows for New Macross..."
The press laughed, and Rick thought he was out of the woods. But the Enquirer's reporter spoke up again. "Rick, isn't it true that you're in a relationship with another SDF-1 officer? Lisa Hayes, isn't it?"
"Commander Hayes," Rick corrected him defiantly.
"So it's true then!"
Geez, who doesn't know about us?! Rick groaned. His mind raced for an answer, but he spent too much time in thought.
"Come on, boy! It's a 'yes or no' question!"
"Commander Hayes and I are fully deticated to serving the Global Defense!'
The reporter scoffed. "Yeah right, when you're not serving each other!"
Rick felt the heat rising on his face; he knew he was blushing.
The meeting room's doors burst open. Michael Joons ran into the room in his full Hawk Squadron jumpsuit, with weapons strapped to his arms and legs. The reporters formed a pathway to the stage.
"That's all for today!" he shouted. "This conference is over! Thank you for coming!"
A photographer shoved a camera in Joons' face. He grabbed it by the lens, threw it down, and smashed it under his feet. "No more pictures, please!" he called without a look back.
Joons met Rick at the podium. "This way, sir!" he said, and escorted him behind the stage to the back door. They stepped into the airport concourse and slammed the door, leaving the confused and excited reporters behind.
"What's going on?" Rick asked, fully alert.
Joons looked both ways, and laughed loudly. "Absolutely nothing! I just saw the press getting touchy and thought I'd wrap things up for ya."
Rick laughed with him, and patted Joons on the shoulder as they started down the concourse. "Thanks, Mike," he sighed. "They were sure having fun with me in there."
"Oh, my pleasure! You know, I've always wanted to do that! How'd you like that camera bit? And the voice, how was the voice!"
"Not bad. You ever consider acting?"
They found a miniature restaurant and bar, next to a departing gate. The travelers ushered out quickly and left the place empty. Rick and Joons had a seat and ordered some drinks.
"You know," said Rick. "I can look a crazed Zentraedi square in the face, but I can't stand up to a reporter."
"Neither could the crazed Zentraedi," chuckled Joons, taking a sip of his drink. "At least it wasn't televised."
Rick nodded wearily and rubbed his face. "Hey, aren't you and Dan supposed to be in the air?"
"Yeah," said Joons. "We can't find Dan anywhere. I went up for about an hour to test my Valk, that's about it."
"I don't believe this," said Rick. "Where does he keep going?"
Joons tipped up his glass. "Probably spending the day at this airhead city girl's apartment," he replied. "He hasn't been focusing that much since he hooked up with her."
"You know this girl?" asked Rick.
"Met her once. She was running to a cab with her shirt on backwards." He signaled for another drink. "It was magical."
Rick laughed and picked up his glass. "He'll grow up sooner or later. I flew with someone like Dan once. It takes a little time, but he'll calm down."
"Here's to that," said Joons, and they raised their glasses. "Here's to Dan Martinez shutting up."
Two glasses of cheap champagne met with a delicate ring. Dan Martinez raised the drink to his lips, winked at his companion, and took a healthy sip. "You sure can have a good time," he said.
A young, blonde haired woman sat across from him at the restaurant table. The napkin across her lap covered about as much flesh as her seductive gown. She returned a smile, but set her glass down. "I think I've had enough for tonight."
Dan shrugged loosely. "Just as long as you're comfortable. Maybe tonight you'll finally tell me your name, hm?"
She smiled again. "Maybe my name isn't so important. And maybe it's a name you wouldn't like."
"I guess I won't know until I hear it," said Dan.
"But what if it was ugly?" she batted her eyes. "You wouldn't use my name anyway!"
He laughed. "Oh, you don't know that! I'm sure you have a beautiful name."
The young lady's eyes grew a little less playful. "But... if it wasn't," she said, "would you regret it?"
Dan's clouded eyes stared back at hers, and he placed his hand clumsily on her arm. "Of course not," he said firmly.
She blinked her bright hazel eyes, and reached out, and kissed him on the cheek. Her fingers ran gently across his chin. "Thank you, Dan," she whispered.
Dan sighed bashfully away, and he turned his eyes down to the wineglasses on the table. His vision began to blur; he was surprised. He hadn't been drinking much, he thought. Maybe the champagne was better than he'd thought.
He reached for his glass. His hand could not seem to find it. Focusing harder, he tried to feel for the blurring object before him. And his heart skipped, when he noticed the second wineglass beside it. Dan's drink was a different color.
He felt a dull lethargy spreading through his head, smearing his thoughts and fears together. The wineglasses divided, multiplied, disappeared in a haze of light. He felt himself falling, and then felt nothing at all.
"Hey you! Wait a second!"
Lisa stopped at the base of the stairs leading to her apartment. The building around her was less than standard living, especially for a guest of New Macross' mayor. Though none of the buildings in the city, this one was so ill-maintained that it appeared to show decades of age. Wallpaper was peeling, carpet was stained, and lightbulbs were burned out.
She had picked out the apartment herself. It wasn't necessary; Mayor Saul would have given her a presidential suite at the fanciest hotel in town if she had only asked. But Lisa was never one to accept a blind favor. She refused to take the mayor's gifts simply because she was Rick's companion. Lisa had been forced to learn self-sufficience, and she hoped that being alone for so long had made her good at it.
But still, there were times when she returned to her old self. The young Lisa Hayes, lighthearted and carefree, before the war forever changed her life. The Lisa who only heard of the war from her father's stories. Whose only concern was how she should behave in the presence of her beloved. Nowadays, she only feel this way when Rick was with her. And the feelings were painful and strangely beautiful at the same time. She hated herself afterward for her pathetic displays of affection. But it panged her heat with sweet nostalgia for a childhood she had barely experienced.
This was not one of those times. Lisa gripped the handrail of the stairs, and turned around. The cheap wood crumbled and broke under her light grasp.
The building's landlord was leaning against the front door. He was a short and burly man who took to wearing a bulletproof vest everywhere he went. Lisa had not learned his name.
"Can I help you?" she asked tiredly.
"I'm gonna make this clear right away," he said. "I've had RDF living here before, and I know what to expect. I want my rent weekly, you got it?"
She sighed. "We've already had this conversation."
"Just making sure you were listening," he replied. "And if I find out you're even thinking of skipping town, I'll have the police on you."
"How about you let me settle in before you start harassing me?" Lisa groaned. She tossed the broken chunk of wood into his face. "You'll get your money on Saturday."
She reached the top of the stairs, found her room, and worked at the many locks to open the door. Stepping inside, she thought about slamming it but decided not to. With my luck, she thought, it'll break.
Her apartment was surprisingly nice. She spent most of her freetime lately cleaning the place up, in some hope that she might get to stay longer than a few weeks. The furniture in the main room was covered with cotton throws, and decorative rugs lay on the hardwood floors. The kitchen counter had Rick and Lisa's newest picture in a small frame. More photographs and pictures were neatly hung on the walls, although must of her things were still boxed up in her bedroom.
She sat down on the couch and switched on her small television. A special edition of the evening news was already in progress. The anchor sat properly behind his desk. Behind him, an image of Lynn Minmei's smiling face appeared, and then shrank down beside him.
"On tonight's edition of Newsline, we bring you 'Minmei, Wings of an Angel.' Our correspondent Tanya Steele sat down with Lynn Minmei for an interview exclusive to this program."
The screen dissolved into an excerpt of the upcoming interview. Minmei sat across from the newswoman, in a formal black dress. But her personality barely fit the bill; she was jumpy and excited, and looked as though she was wearing too much makeup.
"We've heard that this show is particularly special to you," said the correspondent. "Can you tell us why?"
"Oh, sure!" nodded Minmei emphatically. "It'll be the debut of my newest song! It's called 'On Wings of Steel,' and I'm proud to say that I've written the whole thing myself!"
"We've heard that you're taking a new approach at your music. Do you think people will enjoy this 'new Minmei' as much as the old one?"
"I sure hope so!" she giggled. "I really do think this record is different, though. I think... well, I think everybody's been through so much lately. We can't look at things the same way, you know? It doesn't have to be bad, it's just not familiar to us. So we've all had to, sort of, accept these changes. I guess what I'm trying to say is...the world's growing up. I think I should do some growing up too."
Lisa watched the television with shallow eyes and a shaking heart. She picked up the remote, turned off the show and reached for her phone receiver. Rick's number was in the memory dial.
He answered the phone, happy to hear her voice. "Hi Lisa! What's going on?"
She dried her eyes as she spoke nervously. "Oh... nothing, I guess. What're you up to?"
"Eh, you know me, nothing special. I was just about to turn on the news," he laughed, "just in case they did videotape me this morning."
Lisa gasped. "No! Uh...I mean...mmh," she trailed off, embarrassed.
"Something the matter?" he asked.
"Uh, no, I just... well, I just had a long day. I was sort of hoping to chat with you for a little while...do you mind?"
"Of course not!" he replied.
Lisa sighed and sat back in relief. She spent the next two hours on the phone with Rick, laughing with him as he recounted the morning's embarassing press conference. Her worries soon left her, but she avoided looking back at the television for the rest of the night.
a/n: A lot going on for one chapter, wouldn't you say? :) I had fun writing this one and I think it brings things closer into perspective. Not fully, of course. But if you knew everything, you'd be reading something else. :D
Ah, the continuity of it all! There's been some reviews lately bringing up certain aspects of this fic that don't seem to jive with the original story. To this I say: you might be right, but hang in there! I've still got a lot of explaining to do. Things might seem a little disjointed right now, but it will all make sense in the near future.