The Protoculture Wars
Aubry Thonon
Robotech:
Alternate Points
Of View
Thallin
Braywater
This book is dedicated to the following people:
K. Wiley kkwiley@uccs.edu Lieutenant Kay Landers
Alex profnut@nyongwa.montreal.qc.ca Warlord Agar
Derek MondoMage@aol.com Sergeant David Marshall
Steve epustay@aol.com Augustine Rassimus
Kirstin adathono@cc.uq.edu.au Sergeant Tamara Sam'di
This work is c 1994-1996 Aubry Thonon, except for those names,
songs and concepts copyrighted to the appropriate owners (how
do *I* know who they are? They know, that's good enough).
Feel free to copy this book and distribute it as long as:
A) The copyright notices are left in;
B) If it is printed in a fanzine or any other free,
non-profit publication, could you mail me a copy
please?
C) It may *not* be printed in a commercial publication
without the prior assent of *all* the copyright
owners, myself included.
[Reality Check - Sunday Jul. 12 2009, 0438 hours, Storage Area 5d]
"Wait now, you can't be called Izi", Thallin said,
sounding desperate as what had just happened filtered
through to his brain, "You're Christina..." His spiel
wound down into silence as he realised the implications
of `Christina' suddenly coming back to life <Ooohh.. not
pretty.> He carried on, "Well, maybe not `Christina',
but not `Izi', for crying out loud!"
"Why?"
"Because *no-one* has a name like `Izi', that's why!"
"Irrelevant."
"Folks will laugh."
"Immaterial."
"I don't like it."
"..." For the first time since she had woken,
expressions played over Izi's face. "But you gave me that
callsi-... name. You say things you do not like?"
"Sometimes."
"You do things you do not like?"
"Sometimes." <More often than I like to think about,
but it keeps me out of trouble.>
"You did me. You did not like doing me?"
<groan> Thallin shook his head in frustration. He
knew better than to argue with a woman, even one who was
only a few minutes old. He would have to attend to her
grammar though, whatever her name was going to be.
Pacing the room, he realised that she was still waiting
for his answer. She had moved and was sitting on the edge
of the tub, closer than he remembered. <Funny how
breasts never look quite as full when a woman is laying
down.> He took a deep breath and began. "Izi, you're a
*very* special person. And I've enjoyed doin..." Pause.
"Working on..." <groan> "When people find out how
special you are, they are going to be jealous and then
they are going to be nasty, mostly to me. It's just the
way that people are. If we can let them believe that you
aren't special, then we can stop them being nasty. If I
name you Izi, they are going to know that you're special
right away because it is such an unusual name... Am I
getting through?"
"But if Izi is *not* Izi then what *is* Izi called?"
Thallin thought for a moment, snapped his fingers and
said "I've got it: `Izabelle'."
The young woman frowned at this. "I liked Izi
better."
[Reality Check - Saturday Jul. 18 2009, 1044 hours, Meeting Room 6]
Thallin sat in one of the innumerable meeting rooms
with the committee of scientists directed to fix the
conduits. The cat's cradle entwining his fingers gave
evidence to his attention span. The scientists were all
trying to speak over each other, trying to get their
ideas heard. Thallin focused his eyes on the cradle, and
let his mind roam.
He was younger, much younger, and running through the
grass. It was soft on his feet, and just the right
colour green. He was running into the sunset, into the
wind, and he thought his heart would burst for the shear
joy of being alive. But his feet began to hurt, and they
felt wet. Looking down he saw they were the wrong
colour; red - blood then, green blood, transparent blood.
The grass had changed too; ivory, sharp and splintered,
bones. He continued to run and on the outside nothing
appeared to change. Time stood still. But on the inside
he was old, dying, helpless, a killer, screaming. And
while he screamed the wind changed, blowing North by
North-West.
Thallin looked up from the string between his fingers
and pushed his seat back away from the table, the feet of
the chair screeching against the metal of the decking.
He walked around the table towards the giant screen at
the end of the room, not realising that all present had
gone quiet at his unusual behaviour. Thallin studied the
diagrams for a moment, measured the distance between the
two conduit ends using the cat's cradle as a guide and
compared this to the scale at the bottom of the screen.
"You know," he murmured into the expecting silence,
"there just might be a way to bridge that gap *without*
any new conduits." All faces turned towards him and
waited for him while he thought the matter through. "If
you look at the diagram carefully and visualise the way
the Macross is constructed, the answer becomes painfully
obvious." Again, a pause. "All we need to do," said
Thallin, breaking into a satisfied grin, "is have twenty-
five Veritech holding hands to conduct the power
through." Thallin pondered for a second. "Of course, we
might then need twenty-five new pilots..."
He tapped at the screen pensively.
"Look. I'm telling you I feel perfectly fine. It'll
work. OK, I'll admit that the Veritech idea was flawed."
Thallin struggled against the two orderlies as they
carried him out of the conference room. Some of the
committee members shook their head as his voice sounded
from the corridor. "Trust me. Women's hair-pins have
been used since time immemorial. All we need is thirty-
thousand of them. Easy." His voice faded as the
orderlies dragged him away. "How about bras? It worked
for the pink submarine!"
Thallin paced around his quarters - a hard thing to do
when the room you are in is only slightly more than two
meters in length. He had been placed in confinement ever
since his break-down in the conference room. Thallin
reflexively rubbed his left shoulder at the spot used by
the doctor to inject him with half a dozen different
tranquillisers - the poor man was not quite certain from
Thallin's dossier which might actually work on him, if
any at all. So far, Thallin felt no different.
His pacing getting him nowhere, literally and
figuratively, Thallin sat down at his console and tapped
a number on the com-vid's panel. The screen flashed to
life after a few seconds, showing him an internal view of
his workroom.
"Izabelle? You there?"
Izabelle's lithe body walked into the com-vid's
pickup. "Present and fully functional."
<I'm not even going to respond to *that* one.> "How
are things going down there?"
"As per instructions, I have started reading the
Encyclopaedia Mundia and am almost finished. Direct
download from the ship's library has made the task much
faster than anticipated."
"Good. Did anyone notice the download?"
"No. I have taken great cares to erase all records of
my request."
"Good, good. Listen, Izi... Izabelle, I have a small
task for you. Call up the VX-001's schematics from my
files and study them. When you are done, I'd like you to
go to bay 5B and catalogue the damage done to the VX and
make a list of parts that will be required to repair it.
Got that?"
"Memorise schematics, move to bay 5B, catalogue
damage, estimate repair needs. Understood." Izabelle
gave the screen a little salute.
<Oh great, now she's picking up my mannerisms.> "I'm
currently, er.., detained by other matters, so I'll have
to join you later when I can get away. Oh, and
Izabelle... Make sure you're not seen."
"Affirmative." Izabelle suddenly dropped out of sight
as Thallin heard her scramble away from the com-vid's
screen.
<I have got to get her to stop taking everything so
literally.>
Two days later, Thallin was finally released from his
confinement, with orders to report to the infirmary for
daily check-ups. Still fuming from having lost so much
time, Thallin entered a nearby lift and pushed his
destination without thinking. The control panel gave a
sickening crunch as his finger broke through the plastic.
<Oh great. Another repair bill.> The lift gave a lurch
and started its downward movement.
Bay 5B was littered with various components as Thallin
entered. On the left wall, the VX was resting on
supports, most of its access panels opened to reveal
missing circuitry. On the far wall, next to the giant
airlock, was another Veritech Thallin had not noticed
before. Maybe Izabelle had requisitioned it for spare
parts. Looking about, he noticed her sitting at the
console, a cyber-plug inserted in the access port behind
her left ear.
"Izabelle!" Thallin called out.
Hearing her name, Izabelle unplugged herself from the
deck and turned around to great him. "Hello Thallin. I
have made progress since I talked to you yesterday." She
got up from the seat, her red hair falling around her
bare shoulders. Thallin looked appreciatively at her
legs as she approached him with a computer listing in her
hands. "I have finished the list of materials required
to bring the VX back to operational status."
Thallin accepted the pages she was offering and
started to scan the list of parts. After a few moments,
he looked up with a quizzical look on his face. "The
list of parts on page three... What are they for?"
Izabelle paused for a fraction of a second, recalling
the information. "The list reflects the parts required
to rebuild the VX's combat computer and automatic
targeting system."
"We can use a stock-standard set, can't we?" asked
Thallin.
"Yes. There are only minimal differences between the
units we require and the units used in a standard
Veritech fighter."
"Oh, good." Thallin pointed to the Veritech on the
far wall. "In that case, we can salvage the units from
the spare VF over there."
Izabelle and Thallin were busy re-aligning the
controls of the deck's console with the new targeting
unit in the VX when the lights flashed red for a few
seconds. Lighting quickly returned to normal, but a
warning klaxon sounded at regular intervals. Thallin
looked up in surprise.
"An attack? How did they ever find us here?"
In the console's seat, Izabelle looked up from the
diagrams she was holding. "Is this something we should
worry about?"
"Not really. There's not really much we can do until
the VX is back to normal. I'm not even back to active
duty until the doctors say so." He leant across her to
grab the electronic probe from the console when the door
to the corridor outside the bay opened and someone rushed
in, then stopped abruptly.
Thallin looked up in surprise at the interruption.
"Kay, what are *you* doing here?"
"There's a full alert on, or hadn't you noticed?" she
replied with a grin. The grin faded as Izabelle rose
from the console's seat. "And exactly *who* is *that*?"
she asked abruptly.
Thallin stammered, trying to think as he replied.
"Oh, *her*... Well, that's... er..."
Izabelle stepped forward, hand extended to her brow in
a small salute. "Hello. I'm Izi."
"I'll bet you are." Kay said in an icy tone. She
turned around and walked towards the Veritech at the far
end of the bay muttering something under her breath.
"Er... Kay?" exclaimed Thallin. "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking my Veritech out as ordered!" she shouted
back without turning around. She opened the cockpit and
jumped into the seat, switching the reactors on in the
same motion.
"I don't think this is such a good idea," continued
Thallin. "We've just..." The rest of his sentence was
lost in the whine of the engines as the Veritech taxied
to the giant airlock. The inner doors closed, bringing
silence back to the bay. Thallin scratched his head in
wonder. "Hope she'll be okay without her combat
computer. Still, I wonder what got the wind up *her*
tail." He reflected.
Thallin turned around and his gaze fell upon
Izabelle's still-naked form. "Oh boy."
Neoculture (Crash-Test Dummy On The Information SuperHighway)
-------------------------------------+------------------------------------
Dans le froid glace de l'Olympe noir | Dans le vide de l'espace infernal -
Les Dieux malins ont en vain | Fatigue, lasse, vainqueur -
Use de leur puissance, leurs pouvoirs| Ulysse pres d'une Aurore Boreale
Contre Ulysse 31. | Rechauffe un peu son coeur.
-------------------------------------+-------- Aubry.Thonon@qed.qld.gov.au