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ut to take Zor's face off。
〃You're enjoying this； huh？〃 she seethed at him。 Then she had an image of suitable revenge。 She held up the two movie tickets。 〃Well； I guess you'll just have to escort me； big boy！〃
Angelo's face fell and he made some odd sounds before he found the words。 〃Uh； ah； thanks； Lieutenant； but I'll pass…〃
〃You ain't reading me； Sergeant！ It's an order！〃
The Clonemasters' update was even more bleak than had been anticipated。
〃My lord； our reservoirs of Protoculture power are running dry。 The effects of this are being felt throughout the fleet。 Our new clonelings are lethargic and unresponsive； the effectiveness of our weapons is limited； and our defensive shields cannot be maintained full…time。 If we do not secure a large infusion of Protoculture； we are doomed。〃
As Jeddar spoke； the humpish Protoculture cap of the Masters showed them； by mind…image； the deteriorating situation in all six of the enormous mother ships。 Where the Protoculture energies had once coursed through them like highways of incandescence or arterial systems of pure； godlike force； those flows were now reduced to unsteady rivulets。 It was like looking into one huge； dying organism。
Elsewhere in the colossal flagship； six clones…two triumvirates…faced off； five against one。
On the one side was Musica； ethereal weaver of song； Mistress of the Cosmic Harp； whose melodies gave shape and effect to the mental force with which the Clonemasters controlled their subjects。 She was pale and delicate looking； slender； with long； deep green hair。
To one side were her two clone sisters； Octavia and Allegra； both of them subdued and frightened by the very idea of discord。 And across from Musica was the triumvirate of Guard leaders： tall； fit； limber military males who were now unified in their anger as much as in their plasm。
Lieutenant Karno spoke for them。 His long hair was a fiery red； he spoke with uncharacteristic anger； for a slave of the Masters。 〃Musica； it is not your place to decide how things shall be！〃
Another； Darsis； looking like Karno's duplicate； agreed； 〃It has been decided for us and you have no say in the matter！〃
Sookol； the third； added； 〃That is our way； as it has been since the beginning of time！〃
Musica； eyes lowered to the carpeted deck； trembled at the heresy she was mitting。 And yet she said； 〃Yes； I know that。 We've been chosen for each other as mates； and we must resign ourselves to it。 But…that doesn't change the fact that we are strangers； we Muses and you Guards。〃
Karno's brows knit； as if she were speaking in some language he had never heard before。 〃But。。。what does that matter？〃
Musica gave him a pleading look； then averted her eyes again。 〃I want so much to accept the Masters' decision and believe that it is right； but something very strange within me keeps saying that the Masters cannot be right if their decision makes me feel this way。〃
〃‘Feel'？〃 Karno repeated。 Could she have contracted some awful plague from the Humans when the primitives from Earth managed to board the flagship for that brief foray？
Darsis and Sookol had gasped； as had Allegra and Octavia。 〃It's madness！〃 Sookol burst out。
Musica nodded miserably。 〃Yes； feelings！ Even though we've always been told that we're immune to them； I'm guilty of emotions。〃
Madness； indeed。
She saw the repulsed looks on their faces as they realized； she was polluted； debased。 But somehow it didn't change her determination not to surrender these new sensations…not to be cleansed of them； even if she could。
〃I know I should be punished for it；〃 she declared。 〃I know I'm guilty！ But…I cannot deny my feelings！〃 She broke down into tears。
〃What's…what's that you're doing？〃 Darsis asked； baffled。
〃I think I know；〃 Karno answered tonelessly。 〃It's a sickness of the Earthlings called ‘crying。'〃
If it was a sickness； Musica knew； there was no question about who had infected her with it。 It was Bowie Grant； the handsome young ATAC trooper who she had met when his unit staged a recon on board the flagship。
Instead of a mindless primitive in armor； he had turned out to be a sensitive creature。 Bowie was a musician and he sat down at her Cosmic Harp and played tunes of his own devising…beautiful； heart…rending positions that bound her feelings to him。 New songs…songs that wouldn't be found in the approved songlore of the Masters。 He had shown an inexplicable warmth toward her from the very start； and he quickly drew the same from her。
Now Musica found herself sitting at her Harp； playing those same airs； as the other five looked on in shock。
Bowie； do you feel this way about me？ How I wish we could be together again！
CHAPTER THREE
There was never any other child born on Earth from a union of Zentraedi and Human。 I made sure of that； with the powers at my mand。 Because； of course； I immediately knew that Dana was the One； Dana was all that was needed。 And the plan went forward。
Dr。 Lazlo Zand； notes for Event Horizon： Perspectives on Dana Sterling and the Second Robotech War
Lieutenant Nova Satori took a precise sip of wine； then consulted the heavy chronometer on her wrist。 〃Zero hour。〃
Across from her； Zor gave her a puzzled look。 〃Something important？〃
Although he was good at fighting； there were still so many things he simply didn't understand。 Was he； in the terms of this 〃date；〃 behind schedule somehow？ Was he late in initiating the curious physical interchanges the barracks braggarts always talked about？ Was there some accepted procedure for abbreviating the preliminaries？ Perhaps he should begin removing garments…but whose？
Nova stared at him。 〃Well。。。don't tell Dana or anyone else； but the relief force is just lifting off for the moon。〃
Nova couldn't for the life of her figure out why she was telling him； except that she liked one…upping Dana。 She couldn't really put a finger on why she had e along with him to the restaurant either； except that she felt drawn to him…almost against her will。
When Zor was first captured； Nova was responsible for his interrogation。 She had felt that he was an enemy then and was suspicious that that still might be the case。 But there was something singularly attractive about him。 He had an agelessness about him even though he looked young； a serenity even though he was tormented by his missing memory； as though he were a part of her。 It was as if he； as the expression went； had a very old soul。
Zor was thinking along quite different lines。 Nova's mention of Dana reminded him that he was supposed to have gone to the movie with her。 It had pletely slipped his mind； he wondered if bit by bit he was losing all memory functions。
Some curiosity…more of a pulsion； actually…had made him ask Nova to dinner。 He hoped that she could tell him more about himself； he might even be able to recover a part of his lost self。 But there was more to it than that； motivations Zor Prime couldn't fathom。
He studied Nova； an attractive young woman with a mantle of blue…black hair so long that she had to sweep it aside when she sat down。 Like Dana； she wore a techno…hairband that suggested a headphone。 Her face was heart…shaped； her eyes dark and intense；