He sat down; Justine Huxley spoke. "It comes down to this, ladies and gentlemen: shall we let these people fight for their freedom unaided? And shall we simply wait here, with the SDF-3 barely mobile, for the Invid to bring the battle to us?"
There wasn't much arguing after that; the motion was carried seven to three, with two abstentions. A G-l personnel officer explained that records were being reviewed by computers, to pick the most appropriate people for the contingent to be assigned to the Sentinels.
"Along with the obvious criteria of combat performance and so forth," he went on, "will be such things as adaptability and mental/emotional profile-especially the capacity to work with non-Human life-forms."
Edwards hid his smile. His own aversion to aliens was well known; there was little likelihood that he would be selected.
The meeting broke up quickly, with people hurrying off on assignments, burdened by a tremendous workload and a ridiculously close deadline. Only Edwards, shadowed by his aide, Major Benson, seemed to feel no urgency. But on his way out of the Royal Hall, he spied Colonel Wolff.
Wolff was trying to start a conversation with Lynn-Minmei, who in turn was doing her best to listen for news of what had happened at the meeting.
Edwards frowned at his rival. He murmured to himself, "Yes, Colonel. I think 'The Sentinels Need You!'"
Adams, his aide, heard, and said in a low voice, "But sir, what if Wolff doesn't volunteer?"
Edwards turned to the man, one arched brow going up, the other hidden behind his mirror-bright half mask. "Major, everyone in the SDF-3 is already a volunteer."
CHAPTER SIX
One of the Karbarran scientists was named Obit, and I posed to him some questions about the amazing Ur-Flower-powered starship they had arrived in. I asked him why the ursinoids had to actually handle the stuff for the process to work.
His answer, even with help from a translating chip, was, "The Sekitons [] likes our [] and then fondly yields up the conversion that permits the [] to take place and delights in energy being bestowed."
Fortunately, scientists don't live or die according to their ability to figure things out, they just want to try.
Exedore, SDF-3 and Me
Twenty-four hours were not enough, but the Sentinels would only push back their departure time on an hour-by-hour basis.
Preparations for the Sentinels' campaign had people working around the clock. The first lists of personnel assigned to the Sentinels appeared only two hours after the end of the council meeting Anyone on the list had the option of applying for a deferment; fewer then twenty percent did so.
Lang was one of those who knew his name wouldn't appear on the list. Despite his vast curiosity about the things that lay ahead for the liberators, he knew he could not go along.
At his request, Janice Em interrupted her labors as a computer operator and gofer for the Council Advisory Staff, and joined him in his office. He was alone, sipping tea, when she got there. She refused the offer of some orange mandarin, but accepted a chair.
Janice felt an undercurrent-not fear, but a reaction to Lang that she could never pin down. She knew he had been her friend for a long time, and that she trusted him implicitly. Still, she always felt things crowding on the edge of her consciousness, things she couldn't name, when he looked at her like this.
After a little small talk Lang put down his cup and saucer and leaned very close to her. Janice wanted to move away, or tell Dr. Lang to, but found that she couldn't speak, and somehow hated the unfairness of it…
"Janice," he said evenly. "Retinal scan."
The part of her that was the conscious Janice Em slipped away, even as her eyes took on an inner glow that grew quite bright for a moment, then faded.
When it was gone, her eyes and face had lost all animation, and her skin its color and tautness.
"ID confirmed, Dr. Lang. Your request."
Lang blinked a bit from the dazzle of her ID scan. "Janice, I have arranged for you to be selected to accompany the Sentinels' mission. You will accept the assignment."
"Yes, Doctor."
"Bring back all relevant data, with particular attention to Protoculture, the Flower of Life, Zor, the Invid Regis and Regent, and the nature and activities of the Robotech Masters."
"Of course, sir."
Lang rubbed his eyes. What else? "Oh yes: I am also extremely interested in matters pertaining to the life-form, being, or mythical figure known as 'Haydon.' Gather all pertinent data."
"I will, Dr. Lang."
"Good. Now hold still a moment…"
Lang reached behind her neck to remove the dermal plug concealed by her thick fall of pale lavender hair. He inserted a jack into the access port there, and began a highspeed transferral of information.
Janice was the most sophisticated android ever created, the crowning achievement of decades of work. She was programmed with a wealth of skills and abilities, but she was going forth now as part of a military expedition. Lang was giving her as much combat programming as he could, and he regretted that he would be forced to break up the formidable weapon of Janice and Minmei, and the tremendous effect of their harmonies.
But it couldn't be helped; Minmei simply wouldn't be permitted to go along on the liberation campaign, and Lang had to have an absolutely trustworthy agent on the scene.
He had detached the jack and replaced the dermal plug when there was a knock at his door.
With a word, he transformed the android back into a woman. He was stroking her hair back into place when the door opened.
Apparently, it wasn't a Praxian custom to wait for permission to enter a private chamber. Bela stood there, with a large Terran book in her sinewy right hand. She was looking strangely at Lang and Janice, as Janice blinked and resumed coherent thought. Bela was wearing a two-handed short sword with a well-worn grip, and a basket-hilted knife with a foot-long blade.
"Is this some sexual rite?" she asked, her hawk eyes moving from one to the other, with no sign of embarrassment. "Should I leave?"
"No, no, er," Lang hastened to hand Janice a packet of notes he had prepared. "Miss Em was simply picking up some receipted documents for the Council Advisory Staff."
Janice seemed a little dazed, but recovered in moments. "Yes. I'll hand-deliver them and bring back your receipt, Doctor."
"That would be fine, my dear."
Bela's gull-wing brows furrowed, and when Janice had left, she scrutinized Lang with a certain distant attention.
Lang considered her: a magnificent specimen, wasp-waisted, full-hipped and high-breasted, dressed, if that was what one would call it, in an ensemble of leather and metal that left her more naked than clothed.
So far, Rick Hunter had kept the Praxians separated from the SDF-3's self-appointed Romeos, but Lang assumed that some very interesting, and perhaps robust, social dynamics would come into play somewhere down the line on the Sentinel mission. Of course, Lang assured himself, he was above all that sort of thing. However, he couldn't help but admire Bela's amazing length of leg, her incredible abdominal definition…
He shook himself just a bit, blinking, just as Janice Em had only moments before. "How may I help you, er, Bela?"
She put her book down on one of his lab tables, handling it reverently. "I found this in one of your lore-houses. You know this creature?"
She had opened the mythology textbook to a series of photos and lithos of Pegasus, and similar winged horses. Bela tapped one photoplate with a spatulate fingernail that wasn't altogether clean.