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But why； then； did the clothes all look different？ The spies somehow knew what they'd just seen weren't uniforms。 But how could the Micronians bear to lose their identity by not wearing their uniforms？ It was all too unsettling for words。
Not to mention the fact that the three Micronian females looked and sounded； well； somehow delightful。 Beguiling。 It was very puzzling。 The three looked at one another。
〃Incredible；〃 Bron summarized。
〃Uh； but what does it all mean？〃 Rico said with troubled brow。
Konda rubbed his jaw in thought。 〃They changed their clothes in that partment down there。 So that means。。。we can get disguises！〃
〃Good thinking！〃 Bron cried。
〃Let's go！〃 Rico exploded。
They dashed down the passageway； bare feet slapping the deck。 After first making sure nobody was still inside； they piled through the hatch together； anxious to blend in with the Micronians。 And though none of them admitted it to the others； they were all thinking of those three intriguing Micronian females but trying not to。
They'd had a previous close encounter with the human enemy； monitoring SDF…1 transmissions that were confusing and puzzling but ever so fascinating。 What they'd seen was the swimsuit petition of the ship's Miss Macross pageant。 Though they hadn't been able to make head or tail of it； and neither had Zentraedi intelligence analysts； the experience had made Rico； Bron； and Konda eager to sign up for the spying mission。
Inside； various small subpartments opened off a narrow central passageway。 The spies began searching through them； looking for garments that might fit。
They approached the clothes tentatively； timidly。 The human fabric constructions seemed unthreatening enough； hanging there docilely； but if they somehow incorporated Protoculture forces； there might be no limit to what they could do。 The threesome moved as carefully as if they were in the midst of a pack of sleeping Dobermans。
When at last they worked up the nerve to actually touch a dangling cuff and nothing catastrophic happened； the Zentraedi proceeded with more confidence。
A pattern emerged： The lockers in those quarters on the forward side of the passageway tended to have rather recognizable clothing suited to normal activities； even if the cut was a little strange。 The ones on the aft side； however； had frilly things； as well as trousers and the skirt…type uniforms the females had worn； as well as more elaborate designs of the same undivided lower garments。
After a lot of rummaging and trying on； Konda and Rico； now in human attire； stepped back into the main passageway。 Konda wore dark slacks and a yellow turtleneck； settling the collar unfortably。 Rico had found blue trousers and a red pullover。
〃Hey； Bron； let's get moving！〃 Rico called。
〃This uniform is very unusual；〃 Bron said； lumbering to catch up。 〃But it's all I can find that fits me。 I dressed to conform with a two…dimensional image I saw in that partment。 What d' you think？〃
Bron held out the hem of his pleated skirt； standing awkwardly in the large pumps he'd found。 His white silk blouse was arranged correctly； its fluffy bow tie and the tasteful string of pearls exactly corresponding to the fashion photo he'd seen。
〃Y' look fine； Bron！ Now； let's get started；〃 Rico snapped。 Bron looked wounded。
Rico was edgy； he and the others had e aboard unarmed； since all Zentraedi weapons were now far too big for them to handle or hide。 They'd found no Micronian weapons at all in the humans' personal quarters except those of a makeshift and unsuitable sort。 How could these creatures feel any peace of mind without at least a few small arms close at hand？ It all made less and less sense。
Bron glowered； and Rico subsided； it was unwise to get the big fellow irritated。 Bron gave his skirt a final hitch and said； 〃Ready。〃
They fell in together and trooped off in the direction the Terrible Trio had gone； ready to bring triumph and glory to the mighty Zentraedi race。
CHAPTER THREE
We had met the enemy； and he wasn't us。 Then we wound up in front of some of 〃us；〃 and they were the enemy。
Lisa Hayes； Recollections
〃Please continue your report； mander Hayes；〃 the captain bade her。
They sat in high…back chairs along the gleaming conference room table； all in a row。 A short time ago they'd been greeted as heroes； but now…despite Captain Gloval's forting presence…Lisa felt very much as if she were sitting before a board of inquiry。
Lisa； Rick； Ben； and Max looked across the long； wide table at the row of four member officers of the evaluation team。 Only one of them held rank in one of the bat arms； Colonel Maistroff； an Air Group officer with a reputation as a martinet and stuffed shirt。
The others were intelligence and operations staffers； though the bearded and balding Major Aldershot was supposed to be something of a mainstay over at G3 Operations and had earned a bat Infantry Star in his youth。 The team studied the escapees as if they were something on a microscope slide。
Gloval； presiding at the head of the table； was encouraging Lisa。 〃You are certain that what you've made is a fair estimate？ At this Zentraedi central base there are really that many more ships than we've already seen？〃 The link handset next to him began beeping softly； he ignored it。
Lisa thought carefully。 So many things about their captivity in the planetoid…size enemy base； a spacefold jump away…somewhere else in the universe…were astounding and unnerving that she rechecked her recollections again； minutely。
Rick looked over to her； and their eyes met。 He didn't nod； that might have tainted her testimony。 But she saw that he was ready to back her up。
〃Yes； sir； at least that many。 And quite possibly millions more。 I made a conservative estimate。〃
Gloval； hand on the phone； looked to Rick。 〃Truly？〃
Rick nodded。 〃Yes； sir。 That many。〃
Gloval listened to the handset for a moment； then replaced it in its cradle without responding。 〃Based on all bined reports；〃 he resumed； 〃our puters place the total enemy resources at somewhere between four and five million ships。〃
〃Sir； forgive me； but that's ridiculous；〃 one team member said。 From the security branch； he was the officer who'd been all for destroying the escapees' pod。 〃Our projections are based on the most accurate data and statistical techniques known。
〃No species could accumulate that sort of power！ And even if they could； they couldn't possibly remain at the primitive social and psychological level of these aliens！〃
〃Now； granted； we're seeing a great deal of military display here；〃 the Intel man； a portly fellow in his early thirties； added。 〃But how many of those ships have actually proved themselves to be bat…ready？ A parative handful！ No； Captain； I think what we're seeing is just a bluff。 And I think your people here have been taken in by it。 My analysis is that mander Hayes and her party were permitted to escape so that they could bring us this。。。hysterical report and demoralize us。〃
〃Permitted？〃 Ben Dixon was halfway out of his chair； the big hands clenched into fists； about to leap across the table and pummel the intel officer。 〃D' you know how many times we almost got killed？ How