Well, it's been a really long time since I posted
something. I was gonna put some explanatory notes
here, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise. Enjoy.
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Ajax Presents...
MATRIX +
A Macross Plus Fic
Prologue
The windows shattered as the YF-19 crashed through them. All
systems shut down as Isamu manoeuvred the fighter right into the main
computer frame of Macross. He managed to jump out a few seconds
before the YF-19 hit and exploded, rolling away to avoid getting burnt.
"Aw hell! Now I'm really in trouble, those bastard generals are
really gonna give it to me this time," he muttered, watching the
wreckage of his fighter as it burned. With a sigh, he turned and
started running, calling out for Myung.
Sharon's voice turned into an agonizing shriek.
Somewhere, someone smiled.
The screens of the main intelligence frame computers lit up
again, is if the crash had never occurred. Silently, without a fire
alarm, the water sprinklers on the ceiling were turned on and the
burning remains of the YF-19 were put out.
The high-pitched scream that Sharon's voice had become
gradually softened, but didn't die, launching instead into a hypnotic
song. The melody wrapped itself like pieces of string around the
people in the giant fortress, lulling them into blank-eyed trances.
A few stories below, the engines whirred back to life. The
SDF-1 Macross started rising.
And didn't stop until it was in orbit around the Earth.
* * * *
The smooth tones of the saxophone washed over the patrons of
the club, leaning back in the comfortable plush seats of their booths.
Cigarette smoke and red light hung in the air, but the stage was
illuminated with a bright white fluorescent lamp. The musicians played
the blues, soulful notes almost tangible in the air. One young woman,
however, gently moving around her glass of martini, didn't seem
interested in the music. There was a low beep, and she pulled a cell
phone out of her bag, turning her head away from the stage to hear
better.
"So, what do you think?"
"Well, she's sure made the place pretty."
"Where are you?"
"In a jazz club."
"Couldn't resist the music, eh? I should have known."
A chuckle. The sudden, loud whine of a harmonica.
"I should have come myself. It might become dangerous, you
know."
"Worried about me? You know I'm the only one immune to the
music."
"Yeah, right. You're no good. I tell you to look around and
you go jammin' in a club."
"I'm not *jamming*. And I am looking around. At the handsome
man at the bar, for instance."
"Jeez. You should have stayed here."
"Let you come and leave you alone with the like of those girls
that hang out outside this place? I don't think so."
"Do I detect a note of jealousy?"
"You wish. Listen, I'll take a walk as soon as I finish my drink,
okay? Call you back then."
"A drink? Man, what happened to no drinking on the job? What is
it, anyway?"
"A martini."
"Sheesh. You wanna bring me back some? I mean, I could sure use
a drink, I'm so sick of plain old water."
"Poor baby. Listen, I'm hanging up now. Call you in a few."
"Bye."
"Bye."
The young woman clicked the phone shut and sipped her drink,
closing her eyes as it went down her throat.
It didn't have any taste at all.
Sighing, she left some money on the table and walked out of the
club. Outside, the night was clear, the air fresh and free of any sort
of pollution. Too bad the area couldn't exactly be described the same
way. The street the club was awash with neon lights, a sea of bright
greens and pinks and yellows that were reflected wavily in the puddles
of water on the ground. However, she was plunged into darkness as soon
as she turned onto a side street. The narrow road was lit only by a
single lamp post. There were a bunch of gangsters who were trying to
look sinister and menacing by swinging around chains or playing with
switch blades as they talked. She cringed, but they took no notice of
her, even as she passed right by them.
"Just what do these people dream of?" she muttered to herself,
with a tone of incredulity in her voice. Just then, her cell phone rang.
She nearly dropped her bag in horror, afraid that the noise had attracted
the attention of the leather-clad flea bags with the nice sharp knives,
but they weren't turning around to look at her as she had feared.
Intrigued, she let the phone ring and approached them. Still no reaction.
She continued to advance until she was standing right behind them. By
then, the pounding of her heart sounded as loud as the ringing of her
cell phone to her.
But they still paid no attention as she came close enough to
nearly touch them. A few were looking in her direction, but none
directly at her.
She took the phone from her bag and answered.
"Finally! Why weren't you answering?"
"Well, uhm... You see, I'm standing in an alley that looks like
it served as a film noir set, with these wonderful gentlemen that are
wielding very sharp knives and-"
"What?!"
"They don't seem to be noticing me."
"You're saying that you're somewhere with a bunch of gangsters
who haven't realised you're there."
"But it's weird! I'm standing and talking right next to them and
some of them are looking in this direction, but they act as if I'm not
here."
"Forget that you idiot, get outta there! I'm bringing you back
right now! What are you thinking?"
"Wait! I-"
Before she could finish her sentence, she suddenly vanished.
The gangsters carried on with their conversation.
Somewhere else, the young woman opened her eyes.
"Honestly, Myung! What the hell were you doing? You call me
reckless, at least I have more sense than to go walking around a
bunch of no goods! I mean, come on."
"Isamu, you exasperate me."
"What?"
"Take out those earplugs. Let's go."
Still arguing, the pair went back into the house.