OUT OF THE SHADOWS / ±q¼v¹³
PART 1 / ²Ä 1 ³¡¥÷
Wendy Dinsmore (chronic1@2xtreme.net) / ·Å¸¦ Dinsmore(chronic1@2xtreme.net)

Author's Note: This story takes place between the end of the first Gatchaman series and Gatchaman II, episode 1. Some Japanese vocabulary used in the story: / §@®aªºªþµù: ³o¤@­Ó¬G¨Æ¦b²Ä¤@ Gatchaman ¨t¦C©M Gatchaman 2 ¡A´¡¦± 1 ªºµ²§ô¤§¶¡µo¥Í¡C ³Q¥Î©ó¬G¨Æªº¤@¨Ç¤é¥»¦r·J:
--1 --
The light snow had stopped, leaving Cross Karakoram frosted with a layer of silver that dusted the twisted statues and the green-suited corpses that lay sprawled in the grass between them. In places where underground tunnels had surfaced, the snow had melted from the heat that vented from numerous fires and from the passageway leading to the earth's mantle. The quakes shook the mountains with increasing frequency as the "Black Hole" machine ticked off the seconds before the last bomb was launched through the passage. / »´ªº³·¤w¸g°±¤î,¯d¤U¥æ¤eªº Karakoram ©M©Ø¥h¦Ç¹Ð¤Fµ±¦b¥L­Ì¤§¶¡ªº¯ó¤¤ÂX®iªº¤Ï±`ÀJ¹³©Mºñ¦â¾A¦Xªº«ÍÅé»È¼h­áµ²¡C ¦b¦a¤UªºÀG¹D¤w¸g¤É¦Ü¤ô­±ªº¦a¤è¤¤¡A³·¤w¸g±q±q«Ü¦hªº¤õ¨a©M³q©¹¦a²yªº¦a²[ ªº³q¹Dµo¬ªªº¼ö¿Ä¤Æ¡C ·í "¶Â¦âªº¬}" ¾÷¾¹¦b³Ì«á¤@­Ó¬µ¼u³Qµo®g¸g¹L³q¹D¬í¤§«e¨«¶}µe¤Ä¸¹ªº®É­Ô¡A¦a¾_¥Î¼W¥[ÀW²v·n°Ê¤s¡C
In a clearing before the entrance to the installation, Condor Joe lay in the grass and waited to die. / ¦b³q©¹¦w¸Ëªº¤J¤f«eªº²M±½¤¤¡A¨rÆN³ì¦b©ó¯ó¦Ó¥Bµ¥­Ô¦º¡C
His teammates would take care of the machine, if anyone could. There was nothing else he could do. He didn't think about what would come next for him--he'd had plenty of opportunities during the past three years to contemplate what would happen in the afterlife, if there was one. It would just be good to get it all over with. Distantly he could hear his body laboring to breathe as the Galactor drug wore off and the full effects of his injuries came into play. Contrary to the Galactor "doctor's" prediction, he felt no pain; perhaps his body had decided it had had enough and shut down that part which felt pain. His fading consciousness was just along for the ride. It was pleasant, actually. / ¥Lªº¶¤¤Í±N·|·ÓÅU¾÷¾¹,¦pªG¥ô¦ó¤H¥i¥H¡C §_«h¥L¥i¥H°µ¡A¨S¦³ªF¦è¡C ¥L¨S¦³Ãö©óµM«á±N·|¬°¥L¨ÓªºªF¦è·Q--¥L¦b¹L¥h¤T¦~´Á¶¡¦³¦³¤F³\¦h¾÷·|ª`µø±N·|¦b¦º«áªº¥Í¬¡¤¤µo¥ÍªºªF¦è ,¦pªG¨º¸Ì¬O¤@¡C ¥¦±N·|¶È¶È¦n¨ì³B±o¨ì¥¦¥Ñ©ó¡C »·¦a¥L¥i¥HÅ¥¨ì¦p Galactor ªº¥L³Ò°Ê©I§l ªº¨­ÅéÃÄÀ¹Â÷¶}¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¨ü¶Ë§¹¥þªº®ÄªG¶i¤J¹CÀ¸¡C ©M Galactor ¬Û¤Ï "Âå¥Í" ªº¹w´ú,¥Lı±o¨S¦³µh­W; ¤]³\¥Lªº¨­Åé¤w¸g¨M©w¥¦¤w¸g³¡¥÷¦a¦³¥R¨¬¦Ó¥BÃö³¬¨º¨º¤@­Ó¤òÀÖµh­W¡C ¥L­è¦n®É©|·NÃѬOªuµÛ¹ï©ó­¼§¤¡C ¥¦¬O´r§Öªº,¹ê»Ú¤W¡C
He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. Silhouetted against the grey, puffy clouds, a hawk circled over him. It spiraled down, closer and closer, until Joe could see the patterns on its feathers, and the great talons clenched against its body--funny that his vision had chosen now to clear. Perhaps this was a sign: Native American legend had it that the Thunderbird collected men's souls when they died. How appropriate, since Joe had used a bird as a totem he would be delivered from life by one. The hawk landed on the nearest crumbling statue, cocked its head at him, and shrieked. / ¥L¥´¶}¤F¥Lªº²´·ú¦Ó¥B¬Ý¦b¤ÑªÅ¤W­±¡C ´yø¦¨°¼­±¼v¹ï§Ü¦Ç¦âªº, µÈ¤jªº¶³,¤@°¦ÆN¦b¥L¤§¤W¥]³ò¡C ¥¦ spiraled ¦V¤Uªº¡M¶V¨Ó¶V¾aªñªº,ª½¨ì³ì¥i¥H¬Ý¨£¦b¥¦ªº¦Ð¤ò¤Wªº¨å«¬¡A¦Ó¥B´Îªº¤öºò´¤¹ï§Ü¥¦ªº¨­Åé--¦n¯ºªº¨º­Ó¥Lªºµø³¥²{¦b¤w¸g¿ï¾Ü²M°£¡C ¤]³\³o¬O¤@­Ó²Å¸¹: ¥»°êªº¬ü°ê¶Ç»¡¦³¤F¥¦¡A·í¥L­Ì¦ºªº®É­Ô¡A¹p³¾¦¬¶°¤F¨k¤HªºÆF»î¡C ¦p¦ó¾A·íªº,¦]¬°³ì¤w¸g¥H¤@°¦³¾§@¬°¤@­Ó¹ÏÄË¥L±N·|³Q¤@ÂI¤§«e±q¥Í¬¡»¼°e¡C ÆN¦b³Ìªñªº±Y¼ìÀJ¹³¤Wµn³°¡MÁq¥ß¤F¦b¥Lªº¥¦ÀY¡M¦Ó¥B¦y¥s¡C
Then he heard someone approaching, footsteps rustling in the tall grass. Slowly, he turned his head to see who it was. An unfamiliar shadow appeared--a tall, broad-shouldered man with long curly hair and a beard. The wind pulled at his cape as he walked with long strides, intense grey eyes fastened eagerly, purposefully, on the battered man on the ground. / µM«á¥LÅ¥¨ì¤F¬Y¤H±µªñ,¦b°ªªº¯ó¤¤µo¥X¨F¨FÁn ªº¸}¨B¡C ºCºC¦a¡A¥LÂà¦V¤F¥LªºÀY¬Ý¨£¥¦¬O½Ö¡C ¤@­Ó¤£¼ô±xªº¼v¹³¥X²{--°ª,¤j½d³òªº-¥Îªøªº±²¦±ÀY¾v©MÄGŽªÓ­t¨k¤H¡C ·í¥L©Mªøªº¤j¨B¨«¸ôªº®É­Ô¡A­·¦b¥LªºÌa©Ô,±j¯Pªº¦Ç¦â²´·ú¼ö¤ß¦a¬Cºò,¦³¥Øªº¦a, ¦b¨º¤§¤WºV¥´¦b¦a­±¤Wªº¨k¤H¡C
Joe's euphoria vanished. Though he didn't appear armed, there was something sinister about this man. The stranger had been looking for him, had something planned for him.... / ³ìªº³³¾K®ø¥¢¡C ÁöµM¥L¨S¦³Åã±oªZ¸Ëªº,¦³Ãö©ó³o¤@­Ó¨k¤Hªº¤£¦N§QªºªF¦è¡C ­¯¥Í¤H¤w¸g§ä´M¥L, ¬Y¨Æ¤£¶Ü¬°¥L­pµe....
He remembered the boomerang that Ken had pressed into his hands. "Think of this as my heart, which I leave with you," he'd said. It was also a nasty weapon, and the only one he could reach. Ken would understand. His right hand tightened on the center, easing out the blades. / ¥L°O±o¤F¦^­¸´Î¨º¤@­ÓªÖ®¦¤w¸g¶i¤J¥Lªº¤â¤§¤ºÀ£¡C "§â³o·í°µ§Úªº¤ß, §Ú©M§AÂ÷¶}",¥L¦³»¡¡C ¥¦¤]¬O¤@­Ó¦Ã©ªºªZ¾¹, ©M°ß¤@ªº¤@­Ó¥L¥i¥H¨ì¹F¡C ªÖ®¦±N·|¤F¸Ñ¡C ¥Lªº¥k¤â¦b¤¤¤ß¤W°Çºò,½w©M¥X¤M¾W¡C
Unaware, the man approached. Joe waited until he loomed only a few feet away, then-- / ¤£ª¾¹Dªº,¨k¤H±µªñ¡C ¥u¦³¤@¨Ç¸}¤§»·Áô¬ù¥i¨£ªºµ¥­Ôª½¨ì¥Lªº³ì,µM«á--
Leave--me--ALONE! / Â÷¶}--§Ú--©t¿Wªº!
His left arm forced his body up; his right cocked the boomerang and threw it backhanded with all his remaining strength. The bearded man leaped aside, and the boomerang sank deep into a rock twenty yards away. / ¥Lªº¥ª¤âÁuÀ£­¢¤F¥Lªº¨­Åé¼W¥[; ¥LªºÅv§QÁq¥ß¤F¦^­¸´Î¦Ó¥B¥á¥¦¤Ï¤â©çÀ»ªº¥Ñ©ó¥L©Ò¦³ªº³Ñ¾l¤O¶q¡C ¦³Å½ªº¨k¤H¦b¤@Ãä¸õÅD, ©M²`¤J¦a¶i¤J¤@¶ô©¥¥Û¤§¤º¤G¤Q½X¤§»·ªº¦^­¸´Î¬~ª«¼Ñ¡C
The man's eyes followed the path of its flight, and he lifted an eyebrow. "I'm impressed," he said. He spoke in Italian, and his voice was hoarse, grating. "That almost found its mark." / ¨k¤Hªº²´·ú¸òÀH¤F¥¦ªº­¸¦æ¸ô®|¡A¦Ó¥B¥LÁ|°_¤F¤@¹D¬Ü¤ò¡C "§Ú³Q·P°Ê",¥L»¡¡C ¥L¥Î¸q¤j§Q»y»¡¡A¦Ó¥B¥LªºÁn­µ¬O¨F°×ªº,¦]´ú¶q­ì¦]©ñ¸m©ó³±·¥®g½uºÞ«eªº®Õ·Ç¹õ¡C "¨º´X¥Gµo²{¥¦ªº¼Ð»x" ¡C
Joe wasn't listening. With that last effort his heart had stopped. / ³ì¨S¦³¦bÅ¥¡C »P¨º«ùÄò¥Lªº¤ß¤w¸g°±¤îªº§V¤O¡C
The stranger wasted no time; he scooped Joe up, and carrying his body like a child's, moved away from the statues with long, rapid strides. A light flashed on the ring on his right hand, and the old man shifted his burden so he could reach the tiny radio. "Send the copter down immediately and have the gear ready," he snapped. "He's gone into total arrest." / ­¯¥Í¤H¨S®ö¶O®É¶¡; ¥L¦V¤W¨V¨ú³ì, ¦Ó¥BÄâ±a¹³«Ä¤lªº¤@¼Ë¥L¨­Åé,±q©Mªøªº, ¨³³tªº¤j¨BÀJ¹³²¾¶}¡C ¤@­Ó¥ú¦b¥Lªº¥k¤â¤Wªº§Ù«ü¤W°{²{¡A¦Ó¥B¦Ñ¤H§ïÅܤF¥Lªº­t¾á¡A¦p¦¹¥L¥i¥H¨ì¹F·¥¤pªº¦¬­µ¾÷¡C "¥ß¨è§â copter °e¤U¨Ó¦Ó¥B¦³¤u¨ã²{ª÷",¥L«rÂ_¡C "¥L¤w¸g°Q½×Á`¶e®·" ¡C
"Yes, Doctor," said a man's voice. / "¬Oªº,Âå¥Í",¨k¤HªºÁn­µ»¡¡C
The hawk trilled once, then flew from the statue and landed on the stranger's shoulder. "Stay off now," he protested. "The boy's heavy enough." The bird ignored him, digging its talons into the thick shoulder padding the man wore for just that purpose. / ¥ÎŸÁn»¡¤@¦¸ªºÆN, µM«á±qÀJ¹³­¸¦Ó¥B¦b­¯¥Í¤HªºªÓ¤Wµn³°¡C "²{¦b°±¯d»·",¥L¤Ï¹ï¡C "¨k«Äªº­«¥R¨¬". ³¾©¿²¤¤F¥L,«õ¥¦ªº¤ö¶i¨k¤H¬°¥¿ª½ªº¨º­Ó¥ØªºÀ¹ªº«pªÓ¹Ô¥R¤§¤º¡C
The old man's hair whipped back from his face as the black copter touched down before him. The door slid open, revealing shadowy figures who pulled him and his burden aboard before the copter rose and vanished into the clouds. / ¦Ñ¤HªºÀY¾v¦b¥L¤§«e¦V«á¦a±q¦p¶Â¦âªº copter ªº¥LÁyÃ@¥´±µÄ²¤U¨Ó¡C ªù slid ¥´¶}, ´¦ÅS¦³³±¼vªº¼Æ¦r½Ö¦b­¸¾÷¤W©Ô¥L©M¥Lªº­t¾á¦b copter ¶i¤J¶³¤§¤º¤W¤É¦Ó¥B®ø¥¢¤§«e¡C


As he left the conference room, Dr. Nambu pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Years of technological advances had still done nothing to make the bright lights any more comfortable, or any less hot. Behind him he could hear the television crews packing up their equipment. He had called for the press conference shortly after receiving Ken's report--which had confirmed everything picked up by ISO sources--and now news agencies were spreading the message all over the world. He had been especially lucky when the Godphoenix had flown by the window at just the right time during the broadcast--that had earned him an incredible number of publicity points. / ·í¥LÂ÷¶}¤F·|ij©Ð¶¡ªº®É­Ô,Nambu ³Õ¤h©Ô¥X¤@±ø¤â©¬¦Ó¥BÀ¿¤F¨Ó¦Û¥Lªº«eÃB¦½¡C ¼Æ¦~ªº¬ì§Þ¶i¨B¨Ï¤°»ò¤]¨S°µ¦wÀRÅܱo§óµÎªA, ©Î¥ô¦óªº¤ñ¸û¤£¼ö¡C ¦b¥L«á­±¥L¥i¥HÅ¥¨ì°±¤î¥L­Ìªº»ö¾¹ ªº¹qµø²Õ­û¡C ¥L¤w¸g¦b±µ¨üªÖ®¦ªº³ø§i¤§«á¤£¤[­n¨D°OªÌ·|-- ¤w¸g½T»{³Q°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¨Ó·½³vº¥«ì´_ªº¨C¥ó¨Æª«--¦Ó¥B²{¦b·s»D¾÷ºc¥¿¦b¥þ¥@¬É¶Ç§G°T®§¡C ·í Godphoenix Âǵ۵¡¤á¤w¸g­¸ªº®É­Ô¡A¥L¤w¸g¤×¨ä©¯¹B¦b¶È¶È¨º¥¿½Tªº®É¶¡¦b¼s¼½´Á¶¡-- ­þ¤@¤w¸gÁÈ¥L¼s§iÂIªº¤@­ÓÃø¥H¸m«Hªº¼Æ¦r¡C
He wasn't quite sure how he felt. Of course he was glad to be able to deliver the good news, but that emotion had plenty of others to battle with: relief that the Black Hole Plan had been thwarted and that Sosai X was gone, combined with the suspicion that he was dreaming. Then there were the losses: he already grieved over the deaths of Oniishi and Masaki the remaining two members of Red Impulse. And Joe... He dreaded the return of his wards, when he'd witness their pain up close, and have to face that empty space where Joe used to be. During Ken's brief report, the Gatchaman's voice had been flat, and over the viewscreen static, Nambu had seen only four pale faces. He would glean the details when the Team came in, and he was expecting them any minute. Nambu and his young charge hadn't parted on the best of terms--Joe most likely had viewed him as the jailer who retained him for useless medical tests while his only family fought and possibly died without him. The expression on Joe's face as he watched Ken and the others depart was permanently etched in the Doctor's mind. Nambu would have preferred a less painful picture to remember him by. / ¥L¤£¬O¬Û·í½T«H¥L¦p¦ó·Pı¡C ·íµM¥L°ª¿³¯à°÷»¼°e¦n®ø®§, ¦ý¬O±¡ºü¦³¤F³\¦h¨ä¥¦·i°«¥Ñ©ó: ¶Â¦âªº¬}­p¹º¤w¸g³Q¤Ï¹ï¨Ã¥B Sosai X ¤£¨£¤Fªº¦w¤ß,©M¥L¥¿¦b°µ¹Úªº²qºÃµ²¦X¡C µM«á¦³·l¥¢: ¥L¤w¸g´d¶Ë¶W¹L Oniishi ©M Masaki ªº¦º¤`¬õ¦âªº½Ä°Ê³Ñ¾lªº¤G­Ó¦¨­û¡C ¦Ó¥B³ì¡C¡C¡C ·í¥L±N·|¥ØÀ»¥L­Ìªºµh­W¦V¤Wªºµ²§ô®É­Ô¥L®£ÄߤF¥Lªº¦u½Ã¦^ªð, ¦Ó¥B¥²¶·­±¹ï³ì¹L¥h¤@ª½ªºªÅªÅ¶¡¬O¡C ¦bªÖ®¦ªºÂ²µu³ø§iªº®É­Ô¡A Gatchaman's ªºÁn­µ¤w¸g¬O¤½´J¡A¦Ó¥B¦b viewscreen ÀR¹q¤§¤W¡A Nambu ¤w¸g¬Ý¨ì¥u¦³¥|­Ó»a¥ÕªºÁy¡C ·í¤p²Õ¶i¨Ó¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¥¿¦b´Á«Ý¥L­Ì¥ô¦óªº¤ÀÄÁ®É­Ô¡A¥L±N·|¬B¸¨ÁJ²Ó¸`¡C Nambu ©M¥Lªº¦~»´¶O¥Î¨S¦³¦b³N»y¤§¤¤³Ì¦nªº¤W¤À¶}--·í¥Lªº°ß¤@®a®x¥´¥M¨Ã¥B¥i¯à¦a¨S¦³¥L¦ºªº®É­Ô¡A³ì¤w¸g«Ü¦³¥i¯àµø¥L¬°¬Ý¦uºÊº»ªº¤H¬°¨S¦³¥ÎªºÂå¥Í«O¦³¤F¥L´ú¸Õ¡C ¦b³ìªºÁy¤Wªí¹F·í¥L¬Ý¤FªÖ®¦¡A¦Ó¥B¨ä¾lªÌÂ÷¶}¤§®É¥Ã¤[¦a¦bÂå¥Íªº¤ß¤¤³Q»k¨è¡C Nambu ·|³ßÅw¤@±i¤ñ¸û¤£µh­W·Ó¤ù³Ó¹L°O±o¥L³Q¡C
He walked down the hall to his office. Just as he reached his desk, the intercom buzzed. He pressed a button. "Professor," said the quiet voice of his receptionist, "the Kagaku Ninjatai have arrived." / ¥L¨«¸ô¤U¨Ó¨ì¥Lªº¿ì¤½«ÇªºªùÆU¡C ¥¿¦p¥L¨ì¹F¤F¥Lªº®Ñ®à,¹ïÁ¿¾¹µo¥X¶ä¶äÁn¡C ¥L«ö¤F¤@­Ó«ö¶s¡C "±Ð±Â",»¡¤F¥Lªº±µ«Ý­ûªº¦wÀRÁn­µ ",Kagaku Ninjatai ¤w¸g¨ì¹F".
"I'll meet them in the lobby." Full debriefing would take place later, after they were checked over and their needs were seen to. He just wanted to assure himself that they were all right. / "§Ú±N¦b¤jÆU¤¤¹J¨£¥L­Ì" ¡C §¹¾ãªº¥ô°È³ø§iµy«á±N·|µo¥Í, ¦b¥L­Ì³QÀˬd¤§«á¦b¦Ó¥B¥L­Ìªº»Ý­n³Q¬Ý¨ì¨ì¤§¤W¡C ¥L­è­è·Q­n«OÃÒ¥L¦Û¤v¥L­Ì¬O¨SÃö«Y¡C
Ken and the others had just entered through the basement entrance. They had changed back to civilian style and moved with the stiffness of exhaustion. Jun, Jinpei and Ryu nodded to the Doctor but Ken passed with a wooden set to his expression. Without a word, Nambu fell in step beside him and they walked down the side corridor toward the infirmary. / ªÖ®¦©M¨ä¾lªÌ¸g¹L¦a¤U«Ç¤J¤f­è­è¶i¤J¡C ¥L­Ì¤w¸g¦V«á¦a§ïÅܨ쥭¥Áªº­·®æ¦Ó¥B¥H¯h¾Îªº°íµw²¾°Ê¡C ¤»¤ë,Jinpei ©M Ryu ¹ïÂå¥ÍÂIÀY¡A¦ý¬OªÖ®¦©M¤ì»sªº²Õ¹ï¥Lªºªí¹F³q¹L¡C ¨S¦³¤@­Ó¦r¡A Nambu ¦b¥L©M¥L­Ì®ÇÃ䪺¨BÆJ¤¤¶^¸¨¨«¸ô¤U¨Ó¹ï©óµê®zªº®Ç¨«´Y¡C
"Are you all right?" the Doctor asked quietly. / " §A¬O©Ò¦³ªºÅv§Q"? Âå¥Í¦wÀR¦a°Ý¡C
"Cuts and bruises. Jun and Jinpei took some shrapnel." The boy, Nambu noticed, was limping, but Jun looked only tired. "We patched them up a little on the way back." / "¤Á©M·ï¶Ë¡C ¤»¤ë©M Jinpei ±a¤F¤@¨Ç¶}ªá¼u¡C"¨k«Ä¡A³Qª`·Nªº Nambu,¥¿¦b¶_¦æ¡A¦ý¬O¤»¤ë¬Ý°_¨Ó¥u¦³¯h²Ö¡C "§Ú­Ì¦b³~¤¤¦V¤Wµy·L¸Éºó¤F¥L­Ì­I­±" ¡C
Nambu dreaded the next. "And Joe? Did you find him?" / Nambu ®£ÄߤF¤U¤@­Ó¡C " ¦Ó¥B³ì? §Aµo²{¥L¶Ü?"
"Yes." Ken stared straight ahead. "We found him. He showed us the entrance to the base. Then we lost him." / "¬Oªº". ªÖ®¦¦V«e¦aµ§ª½¦aª`µø¡C "§Ú­Ìµo²{¥L¡C ¥Lµ¹§Ú­Ì¬Ý³q©¹°ò¦ªº¤J¤f¡C µM«á§Ú­Ì¥¢¥h¤F¥L¡C"
"He's gone?" / "¥L¤£¨£¤F"?
Ken stopped, turned and faced the Doctor. There was a smile on his face, but it wasn't a happy smile. It held all the irony, grief and bewilderment he had suppressed for the past forty eight hours. "Yes, Hakase, that's exactly it. He's gone." He laughed, and when he continued, his voice shook. "When we came out of the base, he was gone, and we searched and searched, but we couldn't find him. He just disappeared--" / ªÖ®¦°±¤î, Âà¦Ó¥B­±¹ï¤FÂå¥Í¡C ¦³¦b¥LªºÁy¤W¤@­Ó·L¯º¡A¦ý¬O¥¦¤£¬O¤@­Ó§Ö¼Öªº·L¯º¡C ¥¦ºû«ù¤F¥L¤w¸gÂíÀ£¹L¥h¥|¤Q¤K¤p®Éªº©Ò¦³¤Ï¿Ø¡A¶Ëµh©M§x´b¡C "¬Oªº,Hakase,¨º§¹¥þ¥¦¡C ¥L¤£¨£¤F¡C"¥L¯º¡A¦Ó¥B·í¥LÄ~Äòªº®É­Ô,¥LªºÁn­µ·n°Ê¡C "·í§Ú­Ì±q°ò¦¥X¨Óªº®É­Ô,¥L¤£¨£¤F¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú­Ì·j´M¤F¤S·j´M¡A¦ý¬O§Ú­Ì¤£¥i¥Hµo²{¥L¡C ¥L­è­è®ø¥¢--"
"Ken." Jun put a hand on his shoulder. / "ªÖ®¦". ¤»¤ë§â¤@°¦¤â©ñ¦b¥LªºªÓ¡C
Ken reacted as if she had slapped him across the face. He froze for a moment while he fought to regain control. Then, shaking his head, he looked earnestly up at the Doctor. "I'm sorry, Hakase. I think we all need a little sleep." / ªÖ®¦¤ÏÀ³¦n¹³¦o¤w¸g¾î¹L©çÀ»¥LÁy¡C ·í¥L¥´¥M¨ú¦^±±¨îªº®É­Ô¡A¥L­áµ²¤@·|¨à¡C µM«á,·nÀY,¥L¦bÂå¥Í»{¯u¦a¦V¤W¬Ý¡C "¹ï¤£°_,Hakase¡C §Ú»{¬°§Ú­Ì¥þ³¡»Ý­n¤p¤pªººÎ¯v¡C"
Nambu sighed. "You've earned every minute. Let's all meet tomorrow evening for the debriefing, twenty hundred hours. Agreeable?" / Nambu ¼Û®§¡C "§A¤w¸gÁȨC¤@¤ÀÄÁ¡C ¬°¥ô°È³ø§i¡A¤G¤d¤p®É©ú¤Ñ±ß¤WÅý§Ú­Ì©Ò¦³ªº·|¡C ´r§Öªº?"
They all nodded. "I know it hasn't sunk in yet. What you've done. The world is indebted to you all." / ¥L­Ì¥þ³¡ÂIÀY¡C " §Úª¾¹D¥¦¨S¦³¨I¸¨¦bµM¦Ó¡C §A¤w¸g°µªº¡C ¹ï§A¥þ³¡¥@¬É¬O¨ü¤H®¦´fªº¡C"
"Just doing our jobs," Jinpei quipped--still enough energy left for a joke. Nambu clapped a gentle hand on his back and gave him a grin. / "¶È¶È°µ§Ú­Ìªº¤u§@",Jinpei »¡¿Ø¨ëªº¸Ü-- ¤´µM¥R¨¬ªº¯à·½«e©¹¤@­Ó¯º¸Ü¡C Nambu ¹ª´x¤F¦b¥Lªº­I³¡¤Wªº¤@°¦·Å©Mªº¤â¦Ó¥Bµ¹¤©¤F¥LÅS¾¦¯º¡C
"Good night, then. I'll be in my quarters if there's anything you need." / "±ß¦w,µM«á¡C ¦pªG¦³§A»Ý­nªº¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡A§Ú±N¦b§Úªº¥|¤À¤§¤@¤¤¡C"
"Good night, sir." / "±ß¦w¡A¥ý¥Í" ¡C
Nambu watched them leave and hoped they wouldn't dream. / Nambu ¬Ý¥L­ÌÂ÷¶}¦Ó¥B§Æ±æ¤F¥L­Ì±N¤£°µ¹Ú¡C
As he walked through the ISO complex to his quarters, he could hear other scientists and employees celebrating. Music blared from some of the rooms, glasses clinked, and the smell of food and liquor was strong. Several colleagues called from the rooms he passed, inviting him to join them. Smiling, Nambu declined, claiming exhaustion. The day had drained him completely, worse than the day Kentaro--Ken's father--had died. / ·í¥L¨«¸ô¹L¹ï¥Lªº¥|¤À¤§¤@ªº°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¦X¦¨ª«ªº®É­Ô,¥L¥i¥HÅ¥¨ì¨ä¥Lªº¬ì¾Ç®a©M¾­û¼y¯¬¡C ­µ¼Ö±q¤@¨Ç©Ð¶¡°ªÁn»ï¥s, ²´Ãèµo¥m¾´Án¡A¦Ó¥B­¹ª«©M°sªº¨ý¹D¬O±jªº¡C ¤@¨Ç¦P¨Æ±q¥L³q¹Lªº©Ð¶¡©I¥s, ÁܽХL°Ñ¥[¥L­Ì¡C ·L¯º,Nambu °I°h,«ÅºÙ¯h¾Î¡C ¨º¤Ñ¤w¸g§¹¥þ¦a±Æ¥X·¾¥~¥L,§ó§óÃa¦a¶W¹L¤Ñ Kentaro--ªÖ®¦ªº¤÷¿Ë--¤w¸g¦º¡C
Finally the door to his apartment closed behind him, leaving him to stand in his living room, wrapped in silence. He first went to the bar and poured himself a straight scotch, then set it on the table beside his chair and forgot it. He sat in his recliner and looked through the window at the evening sky, his mind blank. For once he didn't have to discipline himself past it. He didn't have to think about what would come next, at least until tomorrow. Tonight he could rest, and hope he didn't dream himself. / ³Ì«á¨ì¥Lªº¤½´JªùÃö³¬¦b¥L«á­±, ¯d¤U¥L¦b¥Lªº«ÈÆU¤¤¯¸,¦b¨HÀq¤è­±¥]¸Ë¡C ¥L­º¥ý¥h°s§a¦Ó¥B­Ë¤F¥L¦Û¤vª½ªºÄ¬®æÄõ¤H,µM«á¤ä¨Ï¥¦¹ï¥I¦b¥Lªº´È¤l®ÇÃ䪺®à¤l¦Ó¥B§Ñ°O¤F¥¦¡C ¥L¦b¥Lªºª×´È¤¤§¤¦Ó¥B¦b©]ªÅ·Å²ßµ¡¤á,¥Lªº¤ß¯dªÅ¥Õ¡C ¦]¬°¤@¥¹¥L¨S¦³¶·¶V¹L¥¦°V½m¥L¦Û¤v¡C ¥L¨S¦³¶·Ãö©ó¤°»òµM«á±N·|¨Ó·Q,¦Ü¤Öª½¨ì©ú¤Ñ¡C ¤µ±ß¥L¥i¥H¥ð®§, ©M§Æ±æ¥L¨S¦³°µ¹Ú¥L¦Û¤v¡C

"Now exhale." / "²{¦b©I®ð" ¡C
On his perch on the edge of the medical table, Ken let his breath out in a sigh. The doctor finished and pulled the stethoscope back around his neck. "Okay, that's it. You're looking healthy overall. As you said, some scrapes and bruises." / ¦bÂå¾Çªº®à¤lÃä½t¤Wªº¥L´Ï¤ì¤W¡AªÖ®¦¦b¤@Án¼Û®§¤¤©ñ¥X¥Lªº©I§l¡C Âå¥Í¦b¥Lªº²ä¤l©P³ò§¹¦¨¦Ó¥B§âÅ¥¶E¾¹©Ô¦^¨Ó¡C "¦n¡A¨º¬O¥¦¡C §A¬Ý°_¨Ó°·±d¾ãÅé¡C ·í§A»¡,¤@¨Ç¨í±¼©M·ï¶Ë¡C"
Ken pushed himself off the table and reached into the basket for his clothes. The medical staff had been waiting for the Team when they'd arrived, and dragged each member into a separate room for a thorough check. They had showered Ken with congratulations throughout his physical, and he had tried to accept them gracefully, but he still didn't know what they had done to save the world. The Team had killed nearly fifty soldiers outside the base before they found Joe and the main entrance. Once inside the base, they had found almost no resistance--not that the soldiers ever had a chance against four enraged ninja. Ken had taken out some of his rage on a strangely unresisting Katse before X had intervened, then mockingly left them all to their doom. Katse had committed suicide, and the Black Hole machine exploded on its own--despite the fact that it had resisted all the Team's efforts to stop it. So what had they done to deserve this hero's welcome? / ªÖ®¦¨«¶}±À°Ê¤F¥L¦Û¤v®à¤l¨Ã¥B¬°¥Lªº¦çªA¶i¤JÄx¤l¤§¤º¨ì¹F¡C ·í¥L­Ì¤w¸g¬°§¹¥þªºÀˬd¨ì¹F, ¦Ó¥B©ì©Ô¨C­Ó¦¨­û¶i¤@­Ó³æ¿Wªº©Ð¶¡®É­Ô¡AÂå¾ÇªºÂ¾­û¤w¸gµ¥­Ô¤p²Õ¡C ¥L­Ì¦b¥Lªº¨­ÅéÀˬd¦U³B¤w¸g¥Î¯¬¶P²O¯DªÖ®¦¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¤w¸g¹Á¸ÕÀu¬ü¦a±µ¨ü¥L­Ì¡A¦ý¬O¥L¤´µM¨S¦³ª¾¹D¥L­Ì¤w¸g°µ¸Ñ±Ï¥@¬Éªº¡C ¦b¥L­Ìµo²{³ì©M¥D­nªº¤J¤f¤§«e , ¤p²Õ¤w¸g¦b°ò¦¤§¥~±þ±Nªñ¤­¤Q­Ó­x¤H¡C ¤@¥¹¦b°ò¦¸Ì¡A¥L­Ì¤w¸gµo²{´X¥G¨S¦³©è§Ü-- ¤£­x¤H´¿¸g¦³¤F¤@­Ó¾÷·|¤Ï¹ï¥|¿E«ã¤F§ÔªÌ¡C ªÖ®¦¤w¸g¨ú¥X¤@¨Ç¥Lªº¼««ã¦b¤@¤§¤W©_§®¦a¤£©è§Ü Katse X ¤w¸g¤z¯A¤§«e¡AµM«á·M§Ë¦a¹ï¥L­Ìªº©R¹B¯d¤U¥L­Ì©Ò¦³¡C Katse ¤w¸g¦Û±þ¡A¦Ó¥B¶Â¦âªº¬}¾÷¾¹¾a¥¦¦Û¤vÃz¬µ--¤£¦b¥G¨Æ¹ê¥¦¤w¸g©è§Ü©Ò¦³ªº¤p²Õ§V¤O°±¤î¥¦¡C ¦p¦¹¥L­Ì°µ¤F¤°»ò¸Ó±o¨ì³o¤@­Ó­^¶¯ªºÅwªï?
Maybe their appearance at Cross Karakoram had been enough. / ¤]³\¥L­Ìªº¥~ªí¦b¥æ¤eªº Karakoram ¤w¸g¬O¥R¨¬¡C
"Think you'll have any difficulty sleeping?" / " ·Q§A±NÅý¥ô¦óªº§xÃøºÎµÛ"?
Ken blinked, jarred from his train of thought. "Why?" / ¯w²´ªºªÖ®¦,±q¥Lªº·Qªk¤õ¨®¾_Åå¡C "¬°¤°»ò"?
Regarding him sympathetically, the doctor sighed. "You're still wound up from the events of the day, and sleep is what you need most." Bending over his desk, he scribbled something on a sheet of paper and then handed it to Ken. "Stop by the pharmacy on your way out. Take two with water before you go to bed." / Ãö©ó¥L¼¦¼§¦a¡AÂå¥Í¼Û®§¡C " §A¤´µM¬O±q¨º¤Ñªº¨Æ¥óµ²§ô,¦Ó¥BºÎ¯v¬O§A©Ò³Ì»Ý­nªº". Ås¸y¥Lªº®Ñ®à,¥L¦b¤@±i¯È¤W¼ã¯ó¦a®Ñ¼g¬Y¨ÆµM«á¨ØªAªÖ®¦¡C "¦b¥X¥hªº³~¤¤¶¶¹D«ô³XÃĩСC ®³¤G¥Ñ©ó¤ô¦b§A¤W§ÉºÎı¤§«e¡C"
"Thanks." / "ÁÂÁÂ".
As he left the medical wing, Ken glanced at the prescription, noted it was a sedative, and stuffed the paper into his pocket. Once he was back in the silence of his small apartment, he pressed the call button on his bracelet. / ·í¥L¯d¤U¤FÂå¾Çªº¯Í»H®É­Ô,¦b³B¤èªº¿h°{ªÖ®¦,ª`·N¤F¥¦¬OÂíÀR¾¯, ¦Ó¥B¸Ë¶ñ³ø¯È¶i¥Lªº¤f³U¤§¤º¡C ¤@¥¹¥L¦b¥Lªº¤p¤½´Jªº¨HÀq¤è­±¦^¨Ó,¥L«ö¤F¦b¥Lªº¤âÅN¤Wªº©I¥s«ö¶s¡C
Jun jumped at the sudden, unexpected sound. Reflexively she lunged out of the tub and snatched the wristband from the counter beside the sink. "G-3," she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral. / ¤»¤ë¦b¬ðµM¸õÅD,·N·Q¤£¨ìªºÁn­µ¡C ¤Ï¨­¦a¦o¦³ªÍªºÂ÷¶}¯D¬Ö¦Ó¥B¹Ü¨ú¨Ó¦Û¦b¬~º°¼Ñ®ÇÃ䪺Âd¥x³S¤f¡C "G-3",¦o»¡,¨Ï¦oªºÁn­µ«O«ù¤p¤ß¤¤¥ß¡C
"It's me. Sorry to startle you. I just wanted to check on you." / "¬O§Ú¡C Ãø¹Lªº¦YÅå§A¡C §Ú­è­è·Q­n¦b§A¨­¤WÀˬd¡C"
At the sound of Ken's voice, the ice in her veins melted instantly. "I'm fine. Just in the bath. Jinpei's asleep already, and the medic says all his hurts are superficial." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "How are you?" / ¦bªÖ®¦ªºÁn­µÁn­µ¡A¦oªºÀR¯ß¦B¥ß§Y¦a¿Ä¤Æ¡C "§Ú«Ü¦n¡C ¶È¶È¦b¨N¯D¤¤¡C Jinpei's ¼ôºÎ¦a¤w¸g¡A¦Ó¥B­`½¶ÄÝ´Óª«»¡¡A¥L©Ò¦³ªº¶Ë®`¬Oªí­±¡C"¦oªºÁn­µ­°§C¨ì¦Õ»y¡C "§A¦n¶Ü"?
"Tired. I was just..." He paused, and Jun's hopes soared. "Worried, I guess. Glad you're okay. See you tomorrow." / "¯h²Öªº¡C §Ú«Ü¥¿ª½¡C¡C¡C"¥L¼È°±¡A¦Ó¥B¤»¤ëªº§Æ±æ¤É°ª¡C "¾á¼~,§Ú²q´ú¡C °ª¿³ªº§A¬O¦n¡C ©ú¤Ñ¬Ý¨£§A¡C"
"Goodnight, Ken." / "±ß¦w¡AªÖ®¦" ¡C
Jun heaved a sigh and slipped back into the tub, careful to keep her bandages dry. Almost. He almost asked me. Should I go to him? I don't want to be alone tonight either. Or ever, anymore. / ¤»¤ë¥Î¤OÁ|°_¤F¤@Án¼Û®§¦Ó¥B·Æ­Ëªð¦^¯D¬Ö, ¤p¤ßªº«O¦s¦oªºÁ^±a°®¡C ´X¥G¡C ¥L´X¥G°Ý¤F§Ú¡C §ÚÀ³¸Ó§ä¥L¶Ü? §Ú¤µ±ß¤£·Q­n¤]¬O¿W¦Û¦a¡C ©Î´¿¸g,¤£¦A¡C
Ken called Ryu, but this time used the base interphone. When he opened the channel, he heard snores. The man could sleep through a nuclear holocaust--almost had, once or twice. Right now Ken envied him. / ªÖ®¦©I¥s¤F Ryu, ¦ý¬O³o¦¸¨Ï¥Î¤F´c¦Hªº¹ïÁ¿¾÷¡C ·í¥L¥´¶}¤FÀW¹Dªº®É­Ô,¥LÅ¥¨ì¤FÂMÁn¡C ¨k¤H¥i¥HºÎı¹L¤@­Ó®Ö¤lªº¿N¥þÃ~ªº²½ªÁ¨Ñª«--´X¥G¦³, ¤@¦¸©Î¨â¦¸¡C ¥ß¨èªÖ®¦¸r¼}¤F¥L¡C
Well, that was everyone. Jinpei and Ryu asleep. Jun... he shouldn't bother her with his problems. Same for Nambu. Joe... / ¦n§a¡A¨º¬O¨C­Ó¤H¡C ¼ôºÎ¦aªº Jinpei ©M Ryu¡C ¤»¤ë¡C¡C¡C ¥L¤£À³¸Ó¥Î¥Lªº°ÝÃD·ÐÂZ¦o¡C ¹ï©ó Nambu ¬O¬Û¦Pªº¡C ³ì¡C¡C¡C
Don't think about Joe right now. Just don't. / ¥ß¨è¤£·Q³ì¡C ¥¿ª½ªº¤£¡C
Feeling very alone, Ken showered, then lay down on his bed and stared at the stars outside his window. It was nearly dawn when exhaustion claimed him and he slept. / ı±o«D±`©t¿W,²O¯DªºªÖ®¦,µM«á¦b¥Lªº§É¤W½ö¤U¦Ó¥B¦b¥Lªºµ¡¤á¤§¥~¨nµÛ¬P¬Ý¡C ·í¯h¾Î«ÅºÙ¤F¥Lªº®É­Ô¡A¥¦´X¥G¬O¯}¾å¡A¦Ó¥B¥LºÎ¡C


It wasn't difficult to bully the human body into some semblance of life. Blood could be pumped through arteries and air forced into lungs artificially. Functions of other organs could be imitated, keeping other tissues alive for whatever purpose, technical or emotional. But bringing the body's performance to something above basic functions was another matter--especially with Dr. Rafael's objectives in mind. / «Â¯Ù¤HÃþªº¨­Åé¶i¥Í¬¡ªº¤@¨Ç¥~Æ[¤§¤º¬O¤£§xÃøªº¡C ¦å¥i¯à¸g¹L¤H¤u¦a³Q­¢ªÍªº°Ê¯ß©MªÅ®ð³Q¥Î®Aµ©©â¤ô¡C ¨ä¥Lªº¾¹©x¥\¯à¥i¯à¬O­À®Äªº,¬°¥ô¦óªº¥Øªº¨Ï¨ä¥LªºÁ¡¯½Â´«~«O«ù¬¡µÛªº,§Þ³N¤Wªº©Î±¡ºüªº¡C ¦ý¬O±aµÛ¨­Å骺ªí²{¨ì¤W­zªºªF¦è°ò¥»¥\¯à¬O¥t¤@­Ó¨Æ¥ó--¤×¨ä¥H¤ßªº Rafael's ³Õ¤h¥Øªº¡C
The damage had been so extensive that if Rafael hadn't dodged Joe's attack, he wouldn't have believed the young man had been capable of moving. From the moment he set Joe's body down in the copter, the old man had fought hard to bring him back and keep him there. The young man had coded six times during the trip. Twenty-four hours after their arrival at the lab, ten of which were spent on the operating table, Joe's condition was elevated to critical. The old man had repaired what he could, replaced what he was able, and now the patient lay submerged in regen solution to speed the healing of the grafts. / °²¦p Rafael ¤£Á׶}³ìªº§ðÀ»¡A·l®`¤w¸g¬O¦p¦¹ªº¼sªx¥H­P©ó,¥L´N¤£·|¬Û«H¤F¦~»´ªº¨k¤H¤w¸g¯à°÷²¾°Ê¡C ±q¤ù¨è¥L³]©w¨­Åé¦b copter ¤¤åP¸¨ªº³ì,¦Ñ¤H§V¤O¦a¦³¥´¥M§â¥L±a¦^¨Ó¦Ó¥B§â¥L¯d¦b¨º¸Ì¡C ¦~»´ªº¨k¤H¦b®È¦æ´Á¶¡¤w¸g§â¤»¦¸½s½X¡C ¤G¤Q- ¥L­Ìªº©è¹F«á¥|¤p®É¦b¹êÅç«Ç, ¤Q¦b¾Þ§@®à¤l¤W³Qªá¶O, ³ìªº±¡ªp¬O´£°ªªº¨ì­«­nªº¡C ¦Ñ¤H¤w¸g­×²z¤°»ò¥L¥i¥H, ´À´«¥L¬O¯à°÷¤°»ò¡A¦Ó¥B²{¦b§Ô­@ªºµ±¦b¦A¤@¯ë§G§i¸Ñ¨M¤è®×¤è­±®û¤ô¥[³t±µªKªºªv¡¡C
Normally, when he found a body in such a damaged state, the old man merely made a recording of the patterns that made up the owner's "personality" and placed them into a new mechanical body. Though the exact technology for the mental coding was still beyond his understanding, the procedure was far easier than what he was attempting now. But this time his plans were different. The more organic his subject's mind remained, the less the likelihood of mechanical sabotage. / ¥¿±`¦a¡A·í¥L¦b¨º®É­Ôµo²{¤@­Ó¦p¦¹³Q·lÃaªº¦{¤@­Ó¨­Å骺®É­Ô¡A¦Ñ¤H¥u³Ð¤U¤F²Õ¦¨¾Ö¦³ªÌªº "­Ó©Ê" ¡A¦Ó¥B§â¥L­Ì©ñ¶i¤J¤@­Ó·sªº¾÷±ñ¨­Å餧¤ºªº¨å«¬¿ý­µ¡C ÁöµMºë½Tªº§Þ³N¹ï©ó¤ß´¼ªº½s½X¤´µM¬O¶W¹L¥Lªº²z¸Ñ¡Aµ{§Ç¬O»·¤ñ¥L¥¿¦b²{¦b¹Á¸Õªº®e©ö¡C ¦ý¬O³o¦¸¥Lªº­p¹º¬O¤£¦Pªº¡C §ó¦³¾÷ªº¥L¥DÃDªº¤ß«O«ù, ¤ñ¸û¤Ö¶q¾÷±ñªº¤H¬°¯}Ãaªº¥i¯à¡C
His radio shrilled out an alarm. The old man checked the display above the device and confirmed the frequency before picking up a telephone receiver. "Yes?" / ¥Lªº¦¬­µ¾÷¥Î¦y¾UªºÁn­µ»¡¥X¤@Ánĵ³ø¡C ¦Ñ¤H¦b±µ¸ü¤@­Ó¹q¸Ü±µ¦¬¾¹¤§«eÀˬd¤F¦b¸Ë¸m¤W­±ªº®iÄý¦Ó¥B½T»{¤FÀW²v¡C "¬Oªº"?
"Dr. Rafael," said the voice on the other end. "How are things proceeding?" / "Rafael ³Õ¤h", »¡¤F¦b¥t¤@ºÝ¤WªºÁn­µ¡C "¨Æª«µÛ¤â¶i¦æ¦n¶Ü"?
The old man glanced at Joe through the window looking into the lab. His body lay within a clear tube filled with fluid, and was hooked to breathing apparatus and monitors which were being watched carefully by more of the doctor's silent assistants. He looked oddly fragile, and for the first time, as young as he actually was. "As planned, though he was injured worse than I thought. There was some brain damage, though it appears to be from old scarring. Amazing that he made it so far." He shook his head, unseen by his caller. "The boy is stubborn, though, and he wants to live more than he'll care to admit. We'll begin with the first of the implants as soon as he's strong enough... I'd say in two weeks." / ¦Ñ¤H¸g¹L¦b¥Rº¡²GÅé, ¦Ó¥B³Q¹_¦í¨ì©I§l¸Ë¸m©M³Q¤p¤ß¦a³QÂå¥Íªº¨HÀq§U²zªº§ó¦h¬ÝªººÊµø¾¹ªº²M·¡ºÞ¸Ì­±½Õ¬d¹êÅç«Ç¥Lªº¨­Åéµ± ªºµ¡¤áª`µø³ì¡C ¥L¬Ý°_¨Ó©_§®©ö¸H, ©M²Ä¤@¦¸, ¹³¥L¤@¼Ë¦~»´¹ê»Ú¤W¬O¡C "¨Ì·Ó­pµe¡AÁöµM¥L¬O¨ü¶Ëªº±o¤ñ§Ú§óÃa¡C ¦³¤@¨Ç¸£·l®`,ÁöµM¥¦¦ü¥G¨Ó¦Û¦Ñªºµ²¬Í¡C ¥O¤HÅ岧ªº¨º¥L¨ì²{¦b¬°¤î»s³y¤F¥¦¡C"¥L·nÀY, ¥¼¨£¹LªºÂǵۥLªº¨Ó¹qªÌ¡C " ¦ý¬O, ¨k«Ä¬O¹x©Tªº¡A¦Ó¥B¥L·Q­n©~¦í¶W¹L¥L±NÃö¤ß©Ó»{¡C §Ú­Ì±N¥Ñ´Ó¤J¾¹ªº²Ä¤@­Ó¶}©l¤@¥¹¥L°÷±jªº¡C¡C¡C §Ú¦b¤G­Ó¬P´Á¤¤±N·|»¡¡C"
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" The other's voice sounded doubtful. "Asakura's a wild card--you don't know how he's going to react. He could ruin everything." / " §A½T©w³o¬O¤@­Ó¦n·Qªk"? ¥t¤@­Ó«Å­zÅ¥°_¨Ó¥iºÃ¡C "Asakura's ªº¤@±i³¥©Êªº¥d¤ù--§A¤£ª¾¹D¥L±N­n¦p¦ó¤ÏÀ³¡C ¥L¥i¥H·´·À¨C¥ó¨Æª«¡C"
"It's worth the risk. He has skills that I can't possibly obtain any other way--why waste them? Besides, I think I can appeal to his basic nature." / "¥¦¬O»ù­È­·ÀI¡C ¥L¦³§Ú¤£¯à¥i¯à¦aÀò±o¥ô¦ó¨ä¥Lªº¤èªk§Þ³N-- ¬°¤°»ò®ö¶O¥L­Ì? ¦¹¥~¡A§Ú»{¬°§Ú¯à¶D½Ñ¥Lªº°ò¥»¦ÛµM¡C"
"It's your choice. Keep me up to date." The transmission ended, leaving static. / "¥¦¬O§Aªº¿ï¾Ü¡C ¨Ï§Ú«O«ù³Ì·sªº¡C"¶Ç¿éµ²§ô,¯d¤UÀR¹q¡C
Not that it will be easy, the old man amended. The first few hours of consciousness would be crucial, and the most difficult. Dr. Rafael was a scientist, not a negotiator. And his colleague was right--Condor Joe was a ticking bomb. It would take all of his resources to get that bomb to go off at the right time, and in the right direction. / ¤£¨º¥¦±N¬O®e©öªº,¦Ñ¤H­×¥¿¡C ²Ä¤@­Ó´X¤p®Éªº·NÃѱN·|¬O¨M©w©Êªº, ©M³Ì§xÃøªº¡C Rafael ³Õ¤h¬O¬ì¾Ç®a¦Ó¤£¬O¤@­Ó½R°ÓªÌ¡C ¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¦P¨Æ¬O¥¿½Tªº--¨rÆN³ì¬O¤@­Ó³Q®M®Æ¬µ¼u¡C ¥¦±N·|±Ä¨ú¥Lªº¥þ³¡¸ê·½±o¨ì¬µ¼uÃz¬µ¦b¨º¥¿½Tªº®É¶¡, ©M¦b¥¿½Tªº¤è¦V¤¤¡C

-- 2 --
"There is an old Japanese saying: 'After victory, tighten the straps of your helmet,'" Dr. Nambu said as he paced the floor. The four sitting on the couch watched him. "We've done that. We've kept up defenses while we've had operatives combing every square inch of the planet and researchers scouring all of known space to the best of our abilities. And even if I were to go as far as to rely on 'gut reaction,' there's nothing we can find to worry about." He stopped pacing and faced his charges. "So I've made the decision. As of today, you are officially off duty. If there is still no change within a suitable period of time, you will be retired." / "¦³¤@­Óªº¤é¥»¤H±Ô­z: '¦b³Ó§Q¤§«á,°Çºò§Aªº¿û²¯Ã·,'"·í¥L¿â¨B¤F¦aªOªº®É­Ô¡A Nambu ³Õ¤h»¡¡C ¦bªø´È¤Wªº¥|­Ó®y¦ì¦w±Æ¬Ý¤F¥L¡C "§Ú­Ì¤w¸g°µ¨º¡C ·í§Ú­Ì¤w¸gÅý¾­û®Þ¤ò¦æ¬P©M«ø¿i¹ï§Ú­Ìªº¯à¤O³Ì¦nªº©Ò¦³¤wª¾ªºªÅ¶¡ ªº¬ã¨s¤H­ûªº¨C¤@¥¿ª½ªº¦T®É­Ô¡A§Ú­Ì¤w¸g«ùÄò¨¾½Ã¡C ¦Ó¥B§Y¨Ï§Ú­n¥h·í°µ»»»·¦a·í°µ¥õ¿à '«i®ð¤ÏÀ³ ,' ¨S¦³ªF¦è§Ú­Ì¯àµo²{·Ð´oÃö©ó¡C"¥L°±¤î¿â¨B¦Ó¥B­±¹ï¤F¥Lªº¶O¥Î¡C "¦]¦¹§Ú¤w¸g§@¥X¨M©w¡C ±q¤µ¤Ñ°_¡A§A¬O¥¿¦¡»·ªº³d¥ô¡C ¦pªG¤´µM¦³¤£§ïÅܦb¾A·íªº¤@¬q®É¶¡¤º¡A§A±N³Q°h¥ð¡C"
Ken, Jun, Jinpei and Ryu stared at each other in stunned silence. It was Ryu who finally broke it. "Jinpei, I thought you were kidding when you said we were fired." / ªÖ®¦¡A¤»¤ë¡A Jinpei ©M Ryu ¨nµÛ¨Ï·w­Ëªº¨HÀq©¼¦¹¬Ý¡C ¥¦¬O³Ì«áÂ_±¼¤F¥¦ªº Ryu ¡C "Jinpei,§Ú·Q¡A·í§A»¡¤F§Ú­Ì³QÂI¿Uªº®É­Ô¡A§A¦b¶}ª±¯º".
Nambu blinked, then began to laugh. His laughter shook his charges, who stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "No, no. Not fired. You will continue receiving a stipend from the ISO--I've made sure of that. What it means is that you will no longer have regular patrols or emergency calls. You'll be able to live normal lives now." / ³Q¯w²´ªº Nambu,µM«á¶}©l¯º¡C ¥Lªº¯º·n°Ê¤F¥Lªº¶O¥Î,¨nµÛ¥L¬Ý¦n¹³¥L¦³¥¢¥h¤F¥Lªº¤ß¡C "¤£¡A¸¹½X¤£ÂI¿U¡C §A±NÄ~Äò±µ¨ü¨Ó¦Û°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ªº¤@­ÓÁ~¤ô--§Ú¤w¸g¨º½T©w¡C ¥¦·N¿×ªº¬O§A±N¤£¦A¦³¤@¯ëªº¨µÅީκò«æªº©I¥s¡C §A±N¯à°÷²{¦b©~¦í¥¿±`ªº¥Í©R¡C"
"Until Sosai X shows up again," Ken amended. / "ª½¨ì Sosai X ¦A¤@¦¸¥X²{",ªÖ®¦­×¥¿¡C
"And that could be a year from now or hundreds of years from now," Jun said. "I--I don't know what to say." / "¦Ó¥B¨º±q²{¦b°_¥i¯à¬O©ú¦~ªº²{¦b©Î¼Æ¦Ê¦~",¤»¤ë»¡¡C "§Ú--§Ú¤£ª¾¹D¸Ó»¡¤°»ò".
"I'm not sure I want to retire," Jinpei said, frowning. "Our lifestyles were normal, for us." / "§Ú¤£½T©w§Ú·Q­n°h¥ð",Jinpei »¡,½K¬ÜÀY¡C "§Ú­Ìªº¥Í¬¡¤è¦¡¬O±`ºA,¬°§Ú­Ì".
"I know how you feel," Nambu said. "But I think you'll adjust. I was thinking that maybe we should all take one big trip together--a vacation trip this time--to finally admit to ourselves that we've won. And then we can go about setting up new lives." / "§Úª¾¹D§A¦p¦ó·Pı",Nambu »¡¡C "¦ý¬O§Ú»{¬°§A±N½Õ¾ã¡C §Ú¬O«ä¦Òªº¨º¤]³\§Ú­Ì¥þ³¡À³¸Ó¤@°_®³¤@¦¸¤jªº®È¦æ--°²´Á®È¦æ³o¦¸-- ³Ì«á©Ó»{§Ú­Ì¦Û¤v§Ú­Ì¤w¸g¾Æ±o¡C µM«á§Ú­Ì¯à³B²z«Ø¥ß·sªº¥Í©R¡C"
Ken blinked. "You'll be coming too, Hakase?" / ªÖ®¦¯w²´¡C "§A±N¤]¨Ó,Hakase"?
Nambu grinned. "Why not? I can't remember the last real vacation I took... unless you four want to go alone." / Nambu ÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C " ¬°¤°»ò¤£? §Ú¤£¯à°O±o§Ú®³ªº³Ì«á¤@¦¸¯u¥¿ªº°²´Á¡C¡C¡C °£«D§A¥|»Ý­n¿W¦Û¦a¥h¡C"
"Certainly not." Jun said, smiling. / "·íµM¤£¬O". ¤»¤ë»¡,·L¯º¡C
Both Jinpei's and Ryu's eyes lit up at the mention of a vacation. "We could kick back on some sunny island in the south," Ryu said. "Think roaring surf, palm trees and grass skirts...." / Jinpei's ©M Ryu's ªº²´·úµo«G¦b¤@´£¨ì¤@¦¸°²´Á¤W­±¡C "§Ú­Ì¥i¥H¦b«n¤èªº¤@¨Ç´¸®Ôªº®q¤W¬ðµM«á°h",Ryu »¡¡C " ·Q­·­ý«BÀzªº®ü®ö¡A´ÄÃq¾ð©M¯ó¸È...."
"Not a snowy mountain in sight," Jinpei added. Ken nodded in agreement--he'd had enough of that recently to last a long time. / "¤£¬Oµø¤Oªº¤@®y¦h³·ªº¤s",Jinpei ¸É­z¡C ªÖ®¦¦b¨óij¤¤ÂIÀY--¥L¦³³Ìªñ¨º¦³¥R¨¬«ùÄòªøªº®É¶¡¡C
Even the professor looked enthusiastic until Jun spoke up quietly. "There's something we need to do first." / ª½¨ì¤»¤ë¦wÀR¦a¤jÁn²M·¡¦a»¡¡A¬Æ¦Ü±Ð±Â¬Ý°_¨Ó¨g¼ö¡C " ¬Y¨Æ§Ú­Ì»Ý­n­º¥ý°µ".
Nambu's expression sobered. "I haven't forgotten. That is also what I want to discuss. A memorial service for the Red Impulse, and for Joe. I've insisted on privacy; no press. What will happen there is up to you." / Nambu's ªºªí¹F¨Ï¨HµÛ¡C "§Ú¨S¦³§Ñ°O¡C ¨º¤]¬O§Ú©Ò·Q­n°Q½×ªº¡C ¬°¬õ¦âªº½Ä°Ê¤@­Ó°l±¥»ö¦¡, ©M¹ï©ó³ì¡C §Ú¤w¸g°í«ùÁô¨p; ·s»D´CÅé¡C ±Nµo¥Í¨º¸Ìªº¬O¥Ñ§A¨M©w¡C"
There was a long silence. / ¦³¤@°}ªøªº¨HÀq¡C
"The memorial service for Red Impulse I agree with," Ken said. "But I don't want to hold one for Joe. Not yet." / " ¬õ¦âªº½Ä°Ê°l±¥»ö¦¡§Ú¦P·N ",ªÖ®¦»¡¡C "¦ý¬O§Ú¤£·Q­n¬°³ì¤ä¼µ¤@¡C ¤£¬O¤´µM¡C"
"Ken--" / "ªÖ®¦--"
"It's only been three weeks!" / "¥¦¥u¦³³Q¬O¤T­Ó¬P´Á"!
Jinpei and Ryu backed off. They had heard this argument before. Only Jun stood up to him now. "We've gone back and searched for two of those weeks. We've had search parties all over the mountains, and there was no sign that he'd even been there." She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. "Ken, I don't want to believe it either. I want to think that somewhere, he's alive and healing and being cared for. But he couldn't move when we left him, and there's no way he could have walked away. Not in that terrain, with the ground shaking like it was." / Jinpei ©M Ryu °h¥X¡C ¥L­Ì¥H«e¤w¸gÅ¥¨ì³o¤@­Óª§½×¡C ¥u¦³¤»¤ë²{¦b«i´±¹ï§Ü¥L¡C "§Ú­Ì¤w¸g¦^¥h¦Ó¥B´M§ä¨º¨Ç¼Æ­Ó¬P´Á¤¤ªº¤G­Ó¡C §Ú­Ì¤w¸g¦b¥þ¤sÁ|¦æ·j´MÄÒ, ¦Ó¥B¨S¦³²Å¸¹¥L¦³¬Æ¦Ü¦b¨º¸Ì¡C" ¦o½ñ¤ñ¸û¾aªñªº¦Ó¥B§â¤@°¦¤â©ñ¦b¥Lªº¤âÁu¡C "ªÖ®¦,§Ú¤£·Q­n¤]¬Û«H¥¦¡C §Ú·Q­n»{¬°¬Y³B, ¥L¦³¬¡µÛªº¦Ó¥Bªv¡©M³Q·ÓÅU¡C ¦ý¬O·í§Ú­Ì¯d¤U¤F¥L, ¦Ó¥B¨S¦³³Q¨«¶}ªº¥LÀ³¸Ó¥i¥H¨S¦³ªº¤èªk®É­Ô¡A¥L¤£¥i¥H²¾°Ê¡C ¤£¬O¦b¨º¤@­Ó¦a±a¤¤,Âǥѷn°Ê¥¦¬Oªº¦PÃþ ªº¦a­±¡C"
"Then what happened to him?" / "µM«á¥Lµo¥Í¤F¤°»ò¨Æ"?
"I don't know. He wasn't there when we came up from the base, and the cleanup crews arrived to search before we left. So it had to have happened while we were underground. Maybe some of the locals got courageous enough to go up there, and they found him." / "§Ú¤£ª¾¹D¡C ·í§Ú­Ì±q°ò¦µo¥Í¡A¦Ó¥B¦b§Ú­ÌÂ÷¶}¤§«e , ²M°£²Õ­û¨ì¹F·j´Mªº®É­Ô¡A¥L¤£¦b¨º¸Ì¡C ¦]¦¹·í§Ú­Ì¬O¦a¤Uªº®É­Ô¡A¥¦¥²¶·¤w¸gµo¥Í¡C ¤]³\¤@¨Ç¥»¦a¤H±o¨ì¤F«i´±ªº¥R¨¬¦b¨º¸Ì¤W¤É¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­Ìµo²{¥L¡C"
"Unlikely," Nambu said, rubbing his chin. "I hate to say it, but he was probably buried in the debris when Sosai X's craft erupted from the ground." / "¤£¤Ó¥i¯à",Nambu »¡,À¿¥Lªº¤U¤Ú¡C "·í Sosai X's ªº­¸¾÷±q¦a­±Ãzµoªº®É­Ô¡A§Ú¼¨«ë»¡¥¦¡A¦ý¬O¥L¦b¸H¤ù¥i¯à³Q®I¸®" ¡C
Shaking off Jun's hand, Ken turned his back on all of them and faced the window, staring out at the mountains. Damn the mountains. "I don't believe that. Joe always comes back. He's been through worse." / ¨«¶}·n°Ê¤»¤ëªº¤â, ªÖ®¦Âà¦V¥Lªº¦V«á¦a¦b¥L­Ì¥þ³¡¤W¦Ó¥B­±¹ï¤Fµ¡¤á,¦b¤sªºª`µø¡C ¶A©G¤s¡C " §Ú¤£¬Û«H¨º¡C ³ìÁ`¬O¦^¨Ó¡C ¥L¤w¸g¬O¸g¹L§óÃaªº¨Æ¡C"
"No he hasn't, Aniki." Feeling betrayed, Ken whirled and glared at Jinpei. "I agree with Hakase," the boy continued mournfully. "There's not much of a chance anymore." / " ¨S¦³¥L¤£¦³,Aniki". ·Pı¥X½æ,ªÖ®¦¦b Jinpei ¨Ï¦Ó¥B±ÛÂàµo¯t¥ú¡C "§Ú¦P·N Hakase",¨k«Ä´dºE¦aÄ~Äò¡C "¤£¦A¨S¦³³\¦h¾÷·|" ¡C
"Someone would've contacted us if he'd been found," Ryu agreed. "There would've been news from the villages. Having a stranger appear out of the mountains, especially someone who's hurt, is big news, and one of the search teams would've picked it up. We're fooling ourselves." / " ¬Y¤H°²¦p¥L¬O¡A would've ³sµ¸¤F§Ú­Ìµo²{",Ryu ¦P·N¡C "¬O¨Ó¦Û§ø²øªº·s»D¨º¸Ì would've¡C Åý¤@­Ó­¯¥Í¤H¥X²{Â÷¤s,¤×¨ä¦³¶Ë®`ªº¬Y¤H,¬O¤jªº·s»D¡A¦Ó¥B·j´M¤§¤@Áp¦¨¤@²Õ³Q¬B°_¥¦ªº would've ¡C §Ú­Ì¥¿¦b·M§Ë§Ú­Ì¦Û¤v¡C"
"Not having some sort of service would be disrespectful, I think," Jinpei said. "Maybe he'll get mad and come back and haunt us." / " ¤£¦³ªA°Èªº¤@¨ÇÃþ«¬±N·|¬O¥¢Â§ªº,§Ú·Q",Jinpei »¡¡C "¤]³\¥L±NºÆ¨g¦Ó¥B¦^¨Ó¦Ó¥B±`¨ì§Ú­Ì" ¡C
That was the last straw. "Fine," Ken snarled. "You make the arrangements. If there's nothing else, kindly excuse me." He turned and stalked out the door. The others watched him leave. There was nothing left for them to say. / ¨º¬O³Ì«á¤@®Ú½_¯ó¡C "«Ü¦n",ªÖ®¦§q¥s¡C "§A§@¦w±Æ¡C ¦pªG¦³µL¨ä¥L¨Æ,·Å©M¦a¹ï¤£°_¡C"¥LÂà¦V¨Ã¥B®¨®¨¾aªñ¥Xªù¡C ¨ä¾lªÌ¬Ý¥LÂ÷¶}¡C ¦³³Q«e©¹¥L­Ì»¡ªº¨S¨Æ¡C


The irritation was distant at first, but as he gradually floated up toward consciousness, became more and more noticeable. First came sound: the steady beeping of monitors and the hiss of life support. Then bright light shone red through his eyelids, and though he felt no heat or pain, the awareness that he should made him try to pull away. But he couldn't move... what? His head. He couldn't turn his head away. The rest of his body was numb and unresponsive, but he felt firmly seated within, with none of the floating euphoria he had experienced when he was dying. With that, awareness surfaced. He wasn't dead. He was thinking and feeling. / ¨ë¿E°_¥ý¬O»·ªº¡A¦ý¬O·í¥L³vº¥¦aÄƯB¦b¹ï©ó·NÃѤW­±,Åܦ¨¶V¨Ó¶V¤Þ¤Hª`¥Ø¡C ­º¥ý¨ÓÁn­µ: ©wºAºÊµø¾¹©M¥Í¬¡¤ä«ùªº¼NÁn¹Í¹ÍÁn¡C µM«á©ú«Gªº¥ú·ÓÄ£¬õ¦â¬ï¶V¥Lªº²´¥Ö¡A¦Ó¥BÁöµM¥Lı±o¨S¦³¼ö©Îµh­W, ı¹î¥LÀ³¸Ó¨Ï¥L¸ÕµÛ¶}¨«¡C ¦ý¬O¥L¤£¥i¥H²¾°Ê¡C¡C¡C ¤°»ò? ¥LªºÀY¡C ¥L¤£¥i¥H©Úµ´¥LªºÀY¡C ¥Lªº¨­Åé¨ä¾lªÌ¬O³Â¤ìªº©M¤ÏÀ³¿ð¶wªº¡A¦ý¬O¥L¦b¸Ì­±·Pı°í©T³Q§¤, ÂǥѨS¦³¤@­Ó¥L¤w¸g¸g¾úªºº}¯B³³¾K·í¥L¦º¤`ªº®É­Ô¡C ¥Ñ©ó¨º¡Aı¹î¤É¦Ü¤ô­±¡C ¥L¨S¦³¦º¡C ¥L¬O«ä¦Òªº©M¦³¦P±¡¤ßªº¡C
Somebody turn off the damn light. / ¬Y¤H§â«D±`ªº¥úÃö±¼¡C
Against his will his eyes opened. The light burst in, dazzling, but still without pain. Why? / ¬Û¹ï©ó¥Lªº·N§Ó¥Lªº²´·ú¥´¶}¡C »´ªº¯}µõ¦b,²´ªá¼º¶Ãªº, ¦ý¬O¤´µM¨S¦³µh­W¡C ¬°¤°»ò?
Then someone leaned over him, blocking out the glare--a man in green surgical scrubs, cap and mask. As Joe's eyes slowly focused, he saw the scrubs were stained with brown splotches of drying blood. The man's eyes were hidden by thick optical instruments, the kind a watchmaker might use. The rest of his face was hidden by the cap and mask, but he had bushy eyebrows that looked like wings. / µM«á¬Y¤H¦b¥L¤§¤W­Ê¾a,ªýÂ_¥X°{Ä£¥ú--ºñ¦âªº¥~¬ì¥Î¤OÀ¿¬~¡AµLÃä´U©M°²­±¨ãªº¤@­Ó¨k¤H¡C ·í³ìªº²´·úºCºC¦a¶°¤¤ªº®É­Ô, ¥L¬Ý¨£¥Î¤OÀ¿¬~§Ë°®¦å»P½Å¦â¦ÃÂI¤@°_ªg¬V¡C ¨k¤Hªº²´·ú³Q«pªº¥ú¾Ç¤u¨ãÂäF, Ãþ«¬¤@­ÓÄÁ¿ö¦K¥i¯à¨Ï¥Î¡C ¥LªºÁy¨ä¾lªÌ³QµLÃä´U©M°²­±¨ãÂäF¡A¦ý¬O¥L¦³¤F¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¯Í»H¤@¼ËªºÄé¤ì¤@¼Ëªº¬Ü¤ò¡C
Joe felt a flash of panic; the last person he'd seen in surgical garb had jabbed him with a needle and poured liquid fire into his veins, just so Katse could torture him a little longer. He tried to struggle, but he was frozen in place, unresponsive as a side of beef. All he could move were his eyes. / ³ì·Pı¤F®£·Wªº°{¥ú; ¥L¤w¸g¦b¥~¬ìªº¥´§ê¤è­±¬Ý¨ìªº³Ì«á¤@­Ó¤H¤w¸g¥Î¤@®Ú°wÂW¥L¦Ó¥B­Ë¿U¿N²G¶i¥LªºÀR¯ß¤§¤º,¶È¶È¦]¦¹ Katse ¥i¥Hµy·L§ó¤[«þ°Ý¥L¡C ¥L¸ÕµÛ§V¤O¡A¦ý¬O¥L¾A·í³Q­áµ², ¤ÏÀ³¿ð¶wªº¦p¤û¦×ªºÃä¡C ¥þ³¡¥L¥i¥H²¾°Ê¬O¥Lªº²´·ú¡C
The man stopped what he was doing, lifted the goggles and waved a gloved hand toward Joe's face. Instinctively Joe's eyes followed the movement, and the surgeon grunted in satisfaction. "Good," he said. / ¨k¤H°±¤î¤F¥L¥¿¦b°µªº, Á|°_¤FÅ@¥ØÃè¦Ó¥B´§»R¤@¤â®M¹ï©ó³ìªºÁy¤â¡C ¥»¯à¦a³ìªº²´·ú¨Ì·Ó¤F¹B°Ê¡A¦Ó¥B¥~¬ìÂå¥Í¦bº¡¨¬¤è­±­ó¡C "¦nªº",¥L»¡¡C
Then he reached above the patient's head and adjusted something, and Joe plunged abruptly into oblivion. / µM«á¥L¦b¯f¤HªºÀY¤W­±¨ì¹F¨Ã¥B½Õ¾ã¤F¬Y¨Æ¡A¦Ó¥B³ì¬ðµM¦a¬ðµM¶}©l¿ò§Ñ¡C


The memorial service was held on ISO grounds beside the grave of Ken's father, on a high cliff overlooking the sea. Three more marble slabs were set into the ground. The stones were memorials rather than graves, since none of the bodies had been recovered--the Team's grenades had slagged the section of the base where Oniishi and Masaki had been killed. Dr. Nambu's eulogy was followed by a short sermon by the ISO base chaplain, which praised those who had willingly stepped across the threshold of death to uphold their duty to the world. The weather was chilly, sharp-edged and clear. A cold wind buffeted the participants, who consisted of ISO employees and those few close friends who knew the real identities of the dead. Flowers were piled high around the stones, and sticks of incense burned before each marker, the thin blue smoke carried off by the wind. The roar of the waves served counterpoint to the chaplain's soft, but powerful voice. The Team, in Bird-Style, wore black arm bands and stood with heads bowed, listening silently. Their faces were hidden beneath their visors; expressions concealed by an air of formality. They would vent their feelings in private, later. / ¦b©¿²¤®ü¬v ªº°ªÄa±V¤W°l±¥»ö¦¡³Q®³µÛ¦b°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¤W¦bªÖ®¦ªº¤÷¿Ë¹Ó¥Þ®ÇÃ䪺²z¥Ñ¡C ¥t¥~¤T­Ó¤j²z¥Û¥­ªO¶i¤J¦a­±¤§¤º³Q³]©w¡C ¥ÛÀY¬O¬ö©Àª«¨Ã«D¹Ó¥Þ,¦]¬°¨S¦³¤@­Ó¨­Åé¤w¸g³Q§ä¦^--¤p²Õªº¤âºh¼u¤w¸g¨ÏÅܦ¨º²´í Oniishi ©M Masaki ¤w¸g³Q±þªº°ò¦³¡¤À¡C Nambu's ³Õ¤hÆgµü³Q¤@­Óµu°V»|¸òÀH¤F³Q¥H°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¬°°ò¦ªºªª®v, ºÙÆg¤F¨º¨Ç¦Û°Ê¦a¤w¸g¾î¹L½ñ¦º¤`ªº¤J¤fºû«ù¨ì¥@¬Éªº¥L­Ì³d¥ôªº¤H¡C ¤Ñ®ð¬O´H§Nªº,¾U§Qªº-¨Ï¦Ó¥B¾U§Q²M°£¡C ´H§Nªº­· buffeted °Ñ¥[ªÌ, ¦³°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¾­û©M¨º¨Çª¾¹D¤F¦º¥hªº¤H¯u¥¿ªº¨­¥÷«Ü¤Öªº¿ËªñªB¤Í¡C ªá¦b¥ÛÀYªº©P³ò³Q°ï°_°ª«×¡A¦Ó¥B­»ªº¾ðªK¦b¨C­Ó§@°O¸¹ªº¤H,³Q­·Ä¹±oªº½GÂŦ⪺·Ï¤§«e¿U¿N¡C ªi®öªº§qªA¨Í¤F¹ïªª®vªº¬X³n , ¦ý¬O¦³¤OªºÁn­µ¹ï¦ìªk¡C ¤p²Õ,¦b³¾¤¤-­·®æ,¬ïµÛ¤F¶Â¦âªº¤âÁu¼Ö¹Î¨Ã¥B¥H³QÅs¸y,ÀqÀq¦aÅ¥ªºÀY¯¸¥ß¡C ¥L­ÌªºÁy³QÂæb¥L­Ìªº­±ÀU¤§¤U; ³Q§¸`ªºªÅ®ðÁôÂ꺪í¹F¡C µy«á¥L­Ì±N·|¨p©³¤Uµo¬ª¥L­Ìªº·Pı¡C
For some reason, all Jun could think of was meeting Oniishi for the final time. He'd thrown himself over Masaki's body, as if he could shield the corpse from the bullets that had rained down on them. After the Team had dragged both men into the shadows, Jun had found him still alive. His throat and tongue had been mutilated by enemy agents when he was a child, and he could only speak in sign. He had used his finger to scrawl his final words in the palm of her hand. / ¦]¬°¤@¨Ç²z¥Ñ, ¾ã¤»¤ë¥i¥H·Q¨ì¥¿¦b¬°³Ì«áªº®É¶¡¹J¨£ Oniishi¡C ¥L¤w¸g¦b Masaki's ªº¨­Å餧¤W¥á¥L¦Û¤v,¦n¹³¥L¥i¥H¾B½ª¨Ó¦Û¤w¸g¦b¥L­Ì¨­¤W¤U«B¤U¨Óªº¤l¼u«ÍÅé¡C ¦b¤p²Õ¤w¸g©ì©Ô¨â¦ì¨k¤H¶i¼v¹³¤§¤º¤§«á¡A¤»¤ë¤w¸gµo²{¥L¤´µM¬¡µÛ¡C ·í¥L¬O«Ä¤l¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¥u¥i¥H¦b²Å¸¹¤¤»¡ªº®É­Ô¡A¥Lªº«|³ï©M¦Þ¤w¸g³Q¼Ä¤H¥N²z¤H¤ÁÂ_¡C ¥L¤w¸g¨Ï¥Î¥Lªº¤â«ü¼ã¯ó¦a¼g¦oªº¤â¤â´xªº¥L³Ì«áªº¦r¡C
Finally those who could speak ran out of words, and the silence was cut by the distant drone of engines. The small assembly looked up in time to see a formation of three silver ISO jets roar overhead, dipping their wings in salute. Jinpei looked up at Jun and said, "Do you think the Red Impulse--Ken's father, Oniishi and Masaki--are flying together now, somewhere?" / ³Ì«á¨º¨Ç¥i¥H»¡ªº¤H¥ÎºÉ¦r¡A¦Ó¥B¨HÀq³Q¤ÞÀºªº»·¶¯¸Á´î§C¤F¡C ¤pªº¶°·|¬Ý¦b¤Î®É¤W­±¦b°ª³B¬Ý¨£¤TÁn»Èªº°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¼Q®g¾÷§qªº§Î¦¨,®û§¯¥ªº¥L­Ì¯Í»H¡C Jinpei ¬Ý¦b¤»¤ë¤W­±¦Ó¥B»¡," §A·Q¬õ¦âªº½Ä°Ê--ªÖ®¦ªº¤÷¿Ë,Oniishi ©M Masaki--¥¿¦b²{¦b¤@°_­¸,¬Y³B"?
Jun blinked at the hope in his voice. / ¤»¤ë¦b¥LªºÁn­µ§Æ±æ¯w²´¡C
"Maybe, neh." / "¤]³\,neh".
"But that leaves Joe alone, doesn't it?" The boy's eyes filled with tears. / " ¦ý¬O§OºÞ³ì,¥¦¤£¤£¶Ü"? ¨k«Äªº²´·ú¸Ëº¡²\ºw¡C
Jun opened her mouth to reply, and found she couldn't speak. She looked away. / ¤»¤ë¥´¶}¤F¦oªº¼LµªÂÐ, ¦Ó¥Bµo²{¤F¦o¤£¥i¥H»¡¡C ¦o¬ÝÂ÷¶}¡C
Though he'd heard the exchange, Ken didn't react. When the others turned to leave, he followed them without a single look back. / ÁöµM¥L¦³Å¥¨ì¤F¥æ´«¡A¦ý¬OªÖ®¦¨S¦³¤ÏÀ³¡C ·í¨ä¾lªÌ·Ç³ÆÂ÷¶}ªº®É­Ô,¥L¤£»Ý­n³æ¤@¯«±¡­I­±´N¸òÀH¤F¥L­Ì¡C
The sun was setting when Ken returned to walk alone among the markers. He stopped first at the grave of his father, and his finger traced the lines of the sleek jet fighter carved in the stone. He had spent plenty of time here in the past two weeks, thinking, wishing he could speak with his father, get some answers. Somehow they had won, but the sound of Katse's screams as his leader deserted him left Ken cold. There was no revenge to be had here. Only the wrenching sight of another victim staring at them, tears streaming beneath the bloody mask, before Katse leaped to his (her?) death. Ken hadn't wanted to feel pity for the one whose bizarre war machines and wicked plans had killed millions of people, including his father. Who had cackled gleefully as Oniishi and Masaki died. Who undoubtedly had been responsible for Joe's mangled condition. Who he had wanted so badly to kill with his bare hands. / ·íªÖ®¦¦^¨ìªº®É­Ô¡A¤Ó¶§¥¿¦b¤U¨I¦b§@°O¸¹ªº¤H¤§¤¤¿W¦Û¦a¨«¸ô¡C ¥L¦b¥Lªº¤÷¿Ë¹Ó¥Þ­º¥ý°±¤î¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¤â«ü°lÂܤF¦³ÀJ¨èªº¦b¥ÛÀYªº¥ú·Æ¾Ô°«¾÷ªº½u¡C ¥L¦b¹L¥h¤G­Ó¬P´Á¤º¤w¸gªá¶O³\¦h®É¶¡³o¸Ì,·Q, Ä@¡A¥L¥i¥H©M¥Lªº¤÷¿Ë»¡,±o¨ì¤@¨Çµª®×¡C ¤£ª¾¦ó¬G¥L­Ì³Q¦³Áú¹ô¡A¦ý¬O¦p¥Lªº»â³S Katse's ªº¦y¥sÁnªºÁn­µ¿ò±ó¥LÅýªÖ®¦´H§N¡C ¦b³o¸Ì¦³¨S¦³³ø¤³¡C ¥u¦³¨nµÛ¥L­Ì¬Ý ªº¥t¤@­Ó¨ü®`¤Hªº²r§áµø¤O,¦b¦å¸{ªº°²­±¨ã¤§¤U¬y²\¬y, ¦b Katse ¨ì¥Lªº¸õÅD¤§«e (¦o?) ¦º¤`¡C ªÖ®¦¨S¦³·Q­n¬°¨º¤@­Ó·Pı¿ò¾Ñ¨ä©_²§ªº§@¾Ô¾÷¾¹¦Ó¥BÃaªº­p¹º¤w¸g±þ¼Æ¥H¦Ê¸U­p¤H­Ì,¥]¬A¥Lªº¤÷¿Ë¡C ½Ö·í Oniishi ©M Masaki ¦º¡A¤w¸g´r§Ö¦a«£«£¦a¥s¡C ½Ö¤w¸gµLºÃ¦a­t³d³Q¶Ã¤Á±¡ªpªº³ì¡C ¥L¤w¸g·Q­n¦p¦¹ªºÄY­«¥H¥Lªº¨ª»r¤â±þ½Ö¡C
Sosai X had robbed them all. / Sosai X ¤w¸g¥þ³¡·m¹Ü¥L­Ì¡C
Now the stones for Oniishi and Masaki stood beside his father's. They had been brave men, and without their help he would never have made it so far. And their deaths he could accept. / ²{¦b¥ÛÀY¹ï©ó Oniishi ©M Masaki ¦b¥Lªº¤÷¿Ë®ÇÃ䯸¥ß¡C ¥L­Ì¤w¸g¬O«i´±ªº¨k¤H¡A¦Ó¥B¨S¦³¥L­ÌªºÀ°¦£¥L±N·|µLªk¨ì²{¦b¬°¤î¤w¸g°µ¥¦¡C ¦Ó¥B¥L­Ìªº¦º¤`¥L¥i¥H±µ¨ü¡C
Almost. / ´X¥G¡C
I'm sorry, he thought. I know the cause you died for was successful, and the Earth is safe for now. But why do I still feel so helpless? Why do I think it was a waste? / ¹ï¤£°_,¥L·Q¡C §Úª¾¹D¦]¯À¡A§A¦º¦]¬°¬O¦¨¥\ªº,¦Ó¥B¦a²y¬O²{¦bªº«OÀI½c¡C ¦ý¬O§Ú¬°¤°»ò¤´µMı±o¦p¦¹µL§U? §Ú¬°¤°»ò»{¬°¥¦¬O¤@­Ó¼oª«?
As always, he received no answer, and Ken finally turned his back on the graves. He dreaded making his way to the last; looking at it would confirm what he didn't want to admit. Joe's memorial stood closer to the sea, a little apart from the others. The simple, rough-hewn marble slab bore Joe's full name and the dates--an interval of just over eighteen years. There was no epitaph, for words just didn't seem to fit. / ¤@¦p©¹±`¡A¥L¨S¦¬¨ìµª®×¡A¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦³Ì«áÂà¤F¦b¹Ó¥Þ¤Wªº¥L­I³¡¡C ¥L®£Äß»s³y¥Lªº¨ì³Ì«áªÌªº¸ô; ¬Ý¥¦±N·|½T©w¥L¨S¦³·Q­n©Ó»{ªº¡C ³ìªº¬ö©Àª«¯¸µÛ¤ñ¸û¾aªñªº¨ì®ü¬v,µy·L°£¤F¨ä¾lªÌ¤§¥~¡C ²³æªº, ²ÊÁW- hewn ¤j²z¥Û¥­ªO·ÐÂZ³ìªº¥þ¦W©M¤é´Á--¥u¬O¶W¹L¤Q¤K¦~ªº¤@­Ó¶¡¹j¡C ¨S¦³¹Ó»x»Ê,¹ï©ó¦r´N¬O¦ü¥G¤£¾A¦X¡C
We won, Joe. Did you know that? Do you now? / §Ú­Ì¾Æ±o,³ì¡C §Aª¾¹D¶Ü¨º? §A²{¦b?
A cold breeze ruffled his hair. / ´H§Nªº·L­·§Ë¿¨¤F¥LªºÀY¾v¡C
There are so many things I want to tell you, so many things I want you to see, and then I remember that you're not there. I call your trailer, your room in the complex, and the damned phone just rings and rings. The team gets together for meetings and I want to delay them because you haven't arrived yet. Just a few more minutes, I think, and you'll burst through the door, breathing hard, like you'd run through the complex, and daring me to say anything about it. Of course it never happens. I remember seeing you lying there at the base of that statue, looking up at me with those glassy eyes and that damned sad smile, and I pray it had only been a nightmare. Now I have this to remind me that it was real. / ¦³§Ú·Q­n§i¶D§Aªº³o»ò¦h¨Æª«, ³o»ò¦h¨Æª«§Ú·Q­n§A¬Ý¨£,µM«á§Ú°O±o§A¤£¦b¨º¸Ì¡C §Ú¥u¬O¥´¹q¸Üµ¹§Aªº°lÂÜªÌ , ¦X¦¨ª«ªº§A©Ð¶¡ , ©M¸Ó¦ºªº¹q¸Ü§Ù«ü©M§Ù«ü¡C ¦]¬°§A¨S¦³¤´µM¨ì¹F¡A©Ò¥H¤p²Õ¬°·|ij»E¦b¤@°_¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú·Q­n©µ¿ð¥L­Ì¡C ¥u¬O¦A¹L´X¤ÀÄÁ,§Ú·Q¡A¦Ó¥B§A±NÃzµõ¹Lªù,§V¤O¦a©I§l,¹³§A±N·|¶]¹L¦X¦¨ª«, ©M¤jÁxªº§Ú»¡Ãö©ó¥¦ªº¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡C ·íµM¥¦±q¤£µo¥Í¡C §Ú°O±o¤w¸g¬Ý¨£§A¦b¨º¤@­ÓÀJ¹³ªº°ò¦¾î½ö, ¬Ý¦b§Ú¥H¨º¨Ç¬Á¼þ½èªº²´·ú©M¨º­Ó¸Ó¦ºªº¼~·T·L¯º¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú¬è륦¥u¦³¤w¸g¬O¤@­Ó¹ÚÆL¤W­±¡C ²{¦b§Ú¦³³o´£¿ô§Ú¥¦¬O¯u¥¿ªº¡C
Ken sat on the grass. His father and now his adopted brother were dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. When his father had died, he'd followed Joe's advice after a fashion, and turned his grief and rage into hate for the enemy. He'd first made the mistake of letting his hate go wild, but after some sloppy missions, some near misses and several angry arguments with his team, his better nature had come forth and tempered the runaway emotions into motivation. But now, as he hurt with this new loss, there was no enemy to vent his grief against. There was no way he could make the Galactors pay for the horrible things they'd done to Joe. There was no one left to take the blame. / ªÖ®¦§¤¦b¯ó¤W¡C ¥Lªº¤÷¿Ë¦Ó¥B²{¦b¥Lªº³Q¦¬¾iªº¥S§Ì¦º, ¦Ó¥B¦³¥L¥i¥HÃö©ó¥¦°µªº¨S¨Æ¡C ·í¥Lªº¤÷¿Ë¤w¸g¦ºªº®É­Ô,¥L¤w¸g¬°¼Ä¤H¸òÀH¦b¤@ºØ¬y¦æ«áªº³ì©¾§i, ¦Ó¥B±N¥Lªº¶Ëµh©M¼««ãÅܦ¨¼¨«ë¡C ¥L¦³­º¥ýÅý¥Lªº¼¨«ë¥Ç¿ùÅܳ¥©Ê, ¦ý¬O¦b¤@¨Ç³Q¼â¤ô§ËÀ㪺¥ô°È¤§«á, ¤@¨Ç¦b¹L¿ù©M¤@¨Ç¥Í®ðªºª§½×ªþªñ©M¥Lªº¤p²Õ¡A¥Lªº¸û¦n¦ÛµM¤w¸g©¹«e¨Ó¨Ã¥B½Õ©M°k¤`ªº±¡ºü¶i°Ê¾÷¤§¤º¡C ¦ý¬O²{¦b¡A¦p»P³o­Ó·sªº·l¥¢¤@°_¶Ë®`ªº¥L¡A¨S¦³¼Ä¤Hµo¬ª¥Lªº¶Ëµh¤Ï¹ï¡C ¨S¦³¥L¥i¥H¬°¥L­Ì¤w¸g¹ï³ì°µªº¥i©È¨Æª«¨Ï Galactors ¦¨¬°Á~¸êªº¤èªk¡C ³Ñ¤U¨S¦³¤H±Ä¨ú¹L¥¢¡C
Why did I leave you there? Why didn't I follow Ryu's advice and let him take you back to the Godphoenix? Ryu wasn't needed after we got in the second time. I could've spared him and we could've saved you. Or at least we'd know where you are now. Hindsight is so damned clear... I know you said leave you, but I should have known better than to listen. / §Ú¬°¤°»ò¯d¤U§A¦b¨º¸Ì? §Ú¦ó¤£¨Ì·Ó Ryu's ªº©¾§i¦Ó¥BÅý¥L§â§A±a¦^ Godphoenix? ¦b§Ú­Ì¶i¤J²Ä¤G¦¸¤§«á¡A Ryu ¤£³Q»Ý­n¡C §Ú could've ¼e®¤¤F¥L©M§Ú­Ì could've ¸Ñ±Ï¤F§A¡C ©Î¦Ü¤Ö§Ú­Ì±N·|ª¾¹D§A²{¦bªº¦a¤è¡C ºjªº·Óªù²M·¡¦a¬O¦p¦¹¸Ó¦º¡C¡C¡C §Úª¾¹D¡A§A»¡¤F¥ð°²§A, ¦ý¬O§ÚÀ³¸Ó­n¤£·|¶Ì¨ìªºÅ¥¡C
And why didn't I heed the signs? I knew you were sick, for all that you fought me over it. I should have told the Doctor a long time ago. You would've hated me, but maybe you would still be alive to do it. / ¦Ó¥B§Ú¬°¤°»ò¨S¦³ª`·N¨ì²Å¸¹? §Ú»{ÃÑ¡A§A¥Í¯f¤F,ÁöµM¦p¦¹§A¦b¥¦¤§¤W¥´¥M¤F§Ú¡C §ÚÀ³¸Ó«Ü¤[¥H«e¤w¸g§i¶DÂå¥Í¡C §A would've ¼¨«ë§Ú¡A¦ý¬O¤]³\§A±N·|¤´µM¬¡µÛ°µ¥¦¡C
The letters blurred before his eyes. The name, the dates... all carved deep in stone with sickening finality. Was his brother now nothing but a bunch of letters carved into a rock? Or a corpse rotting slowly somewhere in the mountains, beneath the screaming heads of statues? His imagination provided a horribly detailed picture, and he cringed. "You were eighteen. Dammit, I'm eighteen! Now you're gone and I'll never see you again. Why did you have to leave us? Why did I leave you to die so early? Our dreams only hours away? Why? Why?" / «H¦b¥Lªº²´·ú¤§«e¼Ò½k¡C ¦W¦r,¤é´Á¡C¡C¡C ©M¥O¤H§@¹Ãªº³Ì«á¥ÛÀYªº©Ò¦³¦³ÀJ¨èªº²`³B¡C ¥Lªº¥S§Ì°£¤F¤@§ô«H¤§¥~¬O²{¦b¨S¨Æ¦³ÀJ¨èªº¶i¤J¤@¶ô©¥¥Û¤§¤º? ©ÎºCºC¦a¦b¤s¤¤¬Y³B»GÄê ªº«ÍÅé,¦b¦y¥sÀYÀJ¹³¤§¤U? ¥Lªº·Q¹³´£¨Ñ¤F¤@±i¥i©È¸Ô²Óªº·Ó¤ù¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¬ÈÁY¡C "§A¬O¤Q¤K¡C ¸Ó¦º,§Ú¬O¤Q¤K! ²{¦b§A¤£¨£¤F¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú±N¤£¦A¬Ý¨£§A¡C §A¬°¤°»ò¥²¶·¯d¤U§Ú­Ì? §Ú¬°¤°»ò¯d¤U¦º¦p¦¹ªº¦­§A? §Ú­Ìªº¹Ú°ß¤@ªº¤p®É¤§¤[? ¬°¤°»ò? ¬°¤°»ò?"
As Jun and Ryu reached the edge of the cemetery, they heard a scream; a raw, tortured shriek that built in volume and intensity until it chilled them through. Jun stopped, and signaled Ryu to do the same. / ·í¤»¤ë©M Ryu ¨ì¹F¤F¹Ó¦aªºÃä½t®É­Ô,¥L­ÌÅ¥¨ì¤F¤@Án¦y¥sÁn; ¥Íªº¦×, «þ°Ý¤F¦bÅé¿n©M±j¯P¤¤«Ø³yª½¨ì¥¦ªº¦y¾UÅTÁn¤w§Nªº¥L­Ì¬ï¶V¡C ¤»¤ë°±¤î, ¦Ó¥B¦V Ryu µo°e°T¸¹¤F°µ¤@¼Ëªº¡C
"We'd better leave him alone for a bit," she whispered. / "§Ú­Ì³Ì¦n¬°¤@ÂIÂI§OºÞ¥L",¦o¦Õ»y¡C
Ryu stopped, but showed no sign of leaving. Jun's eyes met his, and as the awful sounds continued, tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Ryu held out his arms to her, and she accepted the embrace, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the sounds of her own grief. Ryu hugged her tightly and his eyes spilled over in silence. / Ryu °±¤î, ¦ý¬OÂ÷¶}Åã¥Ü¨S¦³¸ñ¶H¡C ¤»¤ëªº²´·ú¸I¨ì¥Lªº,¦Ó¥B·í¥i©ÈªºÁn­µÄ~Äòªº®É­Ô,²\ºw¶}©lºw¬y¤U¨Ó¦oªºÀU¡C Ryu ¹ï¦o´£¨Ñ¥Lªº¤âÁu¡A¦Ó¥B¦o±µ¨ü¤F¾Ö©ê, ®I¥LªºªÓ¦oÁy³ò»q¦o¦Û¤vªº¶ËµhÁn­µ¡C Ryu ºòºò¦a¾Ö©ê¤F¦o¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªº²´·úµ²§ô¦b¨HÀq¤è­±·¸¥X¡C
The sun sank beyond the sea, and as the stars came out, the sounds finally died away. Jun and Ryu found Ken huddled on the ground, surrounded by a carpet of trampled petals and mangled leaves, his head and shoulders sagging in exhaustion. / ¤Ó¶§¨I¸¨¶W¹L®ü¬v¡A¦Ó¥B·í¬P¥X¨Óªº®É­Ô,Án­µ³Ì«á³vº¥®ø¥¢¡C ¤»¤ë©M Ryu µo²{¦b¦a­±¤W³Q±ÀÀ½ªºªÖ®¦,³Q½î½ñªºªáä¤@±i¦a´à¥]³ò¦Ó¥B¶Ã¤Á¾ð¸­, ¥LªºÀY¦Ó¥BªÓ­t¦b¯h¾Î¤è­±¤U««¡C
"Ken?" / "ªÖ®¦"?
When he didn't respond, Jun knelt beside him, put a hand beneath his chin and gently lifted his head. He didn't resist. Ken's fists were swollen and bloody. His face was smeared with blood and dirt, and tracked with tears. Ryu produced a handkerchief which Jun used to dab at Ken's face, and to her relief she found the blood had come from his hands. / ·í¥L¨S¦³¦^À³ªº®É­Ô,¦b¥L®ÇÃ䪺¤»¤ë knelt,©ñ¤@°¦¤â¥Lªº¤U¤Ú¤§¤U¨Ã¥B³vº¥¦aÁ|°_¤F¥LªºÀY¡C ¥L¨S¦³©è§Ü¡C ªÖ®¦ªº®±ÀY¬O¿±µÈªº©M¦å¸{ªº¡C ¥LªºÁy»P¦å©M¦Ã«¯¤@°_¶î, ¦Ó¥B¥H²\ºw°lÂÜ¡C Ryu ¥Í²£¤F¤@±ø¤»¤ë¹L¥h¤@ª½¦bªÖ®¦ªºÁy»´©çªº¤â©¬¡A¦Ó¥B¹ï¦oªº¦w¤ß¦oµo²{¦å¤w¸g¨Ó¦Û¥Lªº¤â¡C
Without a word, Jun took one arm and Ryu the other, and they hoisted him to his feet. Ken was too exhausted to protest as he was half-carried up the path to the complex. "I think," he said hoarsely, "I think I feel better now." / ¨S¦³¤@­Ó¦r¡A¤»¤ë±a¤F¤@°¦¤âÁu©M Ryu ¥t¤@­Ó¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­Ì¤É°_¤F¥L¨ì¥Lªº¸}¡C ·í¥L¬O¤@¥bªº®É­Ô¡AªÖ®¦¬O¤Ó¥ÎºÉ¦ÓµLªk¤Ï¹ï-¦b¹ï¦X¦¨ª«ªº¸ô®|¤W­±Äâ±a¡C "§Ú·Q",¥L¨F°×¦a»¡ ",§Ú»{¬°§Ú²{¦bı±oµÎªA¦h¤F".


Awareness came quickly the second time around. / ı¹î¦bªþªñ«Ü§Ö¦a³Q´£¥X²Ä¤G¦¸¡C
He could hear the quiet hum of machinery, and was aware that he was lying on his back. Unlike before, he could feel things--the surface beneath his body, the sheet draped over him--though the sensations were strangely dull. He flexed his fingers and toes, then the muscles in his legs, and everything responded. Nothing hurt, but he felt weak, as if he had pushed himself far beyond his reserves. / ¥L¥i¥HÅ¥¨ì¾÷¾¹ªº¦wÀR¶ä¶äÁn, ¦Ó¥B¬Oª¾¹Dªº¥L¥¿¦b¥Lªº­I³¡¤W»¡ÁÀ¡C ¤£¹³¥H«e¡A¥L¥i¥H·Pı¨Æª«-- ªí­±¦b¥Lªº¨­Å餧¤U¡A±i¦b¥L¤§¤W¥Î¥¬Ã®Âл\--ÁöµM·Pı©_§®¿ð¶w¡C ¥LÅs¦±¤F¥Lªº¤â«ü©M¨¬³k, µM«á¦^À³ªº¥L»L¦Ù¦× , ©M¨C¥ó¨Æª«¡C ¨S¨Æ¶Ë®`¡A¦ý¬O¥Lı±o®z,¦n¹³¥L¤w¸g±À°Ê¥L¦Û¤v¥H¬O»·ªº¶W¹L¥Lªº«O¯d¡C
Of course you did, you idiot. You were dead. / ·íµM§A°µ, §A¥Õè¡C §A¦º¡C
Then why am I not dead now? / µM«á²{¦b§Ú¬°¤°»ò¤£¬O¦º?
Instinct told him to move very carefully, to try not to upset whatever might be fragile. Joe tried to move his head, and it moved a little, supported by a soft cushion that conformed to his neck and shoulders. / ¥»¯à§i¶D¤F¥L«D±`¤p¤ß¦a²¾°Ê, ¸Õ¤£­nÄAÂФ£½×¤°»ò¥i¯à¬O©ö¸Hªº¡C ³ì¸ÕµÛ²¾°Ê¥LªºÀY¡A¦Ó¥B¥¦µy·L²¾°Ê, ³Q¤@­Ó¿í·Ó¥Lªº²ä¤l©MªÓªº³n¹Ô¤l¤ä«ù¡C
Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes. / ºCºC¦a¡A·V­«¦a¡A¥L¥´¶}¤F¥Lªº²´·ú¡C
There was no dazzling light this time. Everything was fuzzy, and he blinked until his eyes adjusted. He was lying on something like a cross between an examination table and a dentist's chair, in the middle of a vast laboratory room. The ceiling was high and glowed a dim gold. The walls were lined with machinery and glittered with lights. / ³o¦¸¨S¦³²´ªá¼º¶Ãªº¥ú¡C ª½¨ì¥Lªº²´·ú½Õ¾ã¡A¨C¥ó¨Æª«¬O¼Ò½k¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¯w²´¡C ¦b¥¨¤jªº¹êÅç«Ç©Ð¶¡ªº¤¤¥¡¤¤¥L¥¿¦b¹³¦b¤@±i¦Ò¸Õ®à¤l©M¤ú¬ìÂå¥Íªº´È¤l¤§¶¡ªº¤Q¦r¬[¦b¬Y¨Æ¤§¤W»¡ÁÀ¡C ¤ÑªáªO¬O°ªªº¨Ã¥Bµo¬õ¥ú·t²Hªº¶Àª÷¡C Àð¾À¥H¥ú»P¾÷¾¹¤@°_±Æ¦¨¤@¦æ¦Ó¥BÀéÄê¡C
What is this place? / ³o¤@­Ó¦a¤è¬O¤°»ò?
There was a sound off to the left, and Joe turned his head to see an old man standing over him. Instead of the standard laboratory white, he was shrouded in a smoke-colored cape that tied at the collar. He had long, curly hair, a beard, and weird, piercing eyes, like some of the crazier scientists at the ISO... or like the man who'd been Nambu's friend until he joined the wrong side... The memory clicked: this was the man who had come for him in the mountains, the surgeon blocking the bright lights-- / ³Ñ¤U¤@ºØÁn­µ¨«¶}¨ì¨º¡A¦Ó¥B³ìÂà¦V¤F¥LªºÀY¨£¤@­Ó¦b¥L¤§¤W¯¸¥ß ªº¦Ñ¤H¡C ¥N´À¼Ð·Çªº¹êÅç«Ç¥Õ¦â¡A¥L¦b¤@­Ó¦b¦ç»âôªº·Ï- ±m¦âªºÌa¤¤³Q¾B½ª¡C ¥L¤[¦³,±²¦±ªºÀY¾v¡AÄGŽ©M©Ç²§ªº, ¨ë°©ªº²´·ú, ¹³¦b°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ªº¤@¨Ç¸ûµo¨gªº¬ì¾Ç®a¡C¡C¡C ©Î¹³¬O Nambu's ªºªB¤Íª½¨ì¥Lªº¨k¤H who'd °Ñ¥[¤F¿ù»~ªºÃä¡C¡C¡C °O¾Ð«ö: ³o¬O¤w¸g¦b¤s¤¤¬°¥L¨Óªº¨k¤H¡AªýÂ_©ú«Gªº¥ú ¥~¬ìÂå¥Í--
Joe sat up, too fast. The room spun, and he shut his eyes and steadied himself until the spinning stopped. This was no time to faint. / ³ì¼õ©],¤Ó§Ö¡C ª½¨ì¯¼Â´°±¤î¡A©Ð¶¡§Ö³t±ÛÂà¡A¦Ó¥B¥LÃö¤W¤F¥Lªº²´·ú¦Ó¥B¨Ï¥L¦Û¤ví©w¤F¡C ³o¤£¬O®É­Ô©ü­Ë¡C
When he opened his eyes again, he saw the old man grinning at him. "Welcome back, Joe," he said in his harsh, gravelly voice. Joe tensed at the sound of his own name. / ·í¥L¦A¤@¦¸¥´¶}¤F¥Lªº²´·ú®É­Ô,¥L¬Ý¨£¦b¥LÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º ªº¦Ñ¤H¡C "¦V«á¦aÅwªï,³ì",¥L¦b¥Lªº²ÊÁW, ¦h¸H¥ÛªºÁn­µ¤¤»¡¡C ³ì¦b¥L¦Û¤vªº¦W¦rÁn­µ©Ôºò¡C
"Who're you?" Joe's voice wasn't hoarse or weak, but there was something about it that felt wrong to him. / " Who're §A"? ¹ï¥Lı±o¿ù»~¡A³ìªºÁn­µ¤£¬O¨F°×ªº©Î®z, ¦ý¬O¦³Ãö©ó¥¦ªº¬Y¨Æ¡C
"My name is Doctor Rafael," the old man said. "You're in my lab. How do you feel?" / "§Úªº¦W¦r¬OÂå¥Í Rafael",¦Ñ¤H»¡¡C "§A¬O¦b§Úªº¹êÅç«Ç¤¤§A·Pı¦p¦ó"?
"Suspicious," Joe said. "You're not with the ISO, are you? And your name sounds familiar. What do you want from me?" / "¥iºÃªº",³ì»¡¡C "§A¤£¥H°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´,¬O¶Ü ? ¦Ó¥B§Aªº¦W¦rÅ¥°_¨Ó¼ô±x¡C §A±q§Ú·Q­n¤°»ò?"
Rafael shook his head. "You're not one to waste time, are you? First I want to know how you are feeling. We'll talk about semantics and loyalties later." / Rafael ·nÀY¡C "§A¤£¬O¤@®ö¶O®É¶¡,¬O¶Ü ? ­º¥ý§Ú·Q­nª¾¹D§A¦p¦ó¥¿¦b·Pı¡C §Ú­Ìµy«á±N½Í½×»y·N¾Ç©M©¾¸Û¡C"
"We'll talk about them now," Joe snarled. "I should've been dead--yet somebody's gone through great pains to keep me from being dead. Nobody does that kind of work without an incentive. What do you want from me?" / "§Ú­Ì²{¦b±N½Í½×¥L­Ì",³ì§q¥s¡C " §Ú should've ¦ºªº-- ¤´µM¬Y¤H¸g¹L´Îªºµh­W¨Ï§Ú¤£¦º¡C ¨S¦³¤H°µ¨S¦³¿EÀyªº¨ººØ¤u§@¡C §A±q§Ú·Q­n¤°»ò?"
The old man bristled, then caught himself. "I want your help," he said evenly. / ­è¤òªº¦Ñ¤H,µM«á®·®»¤F¥L¦Û¤v¡C "§Ú·Q­n§AªºÀ°¦£",¥L¥­§¡¦a»¡¡C
"How is it you know so much about me?" / " ¥¦¦n¶Ü§Aª¾¹D³o»ò¦hÃö©ó§Ú"?
"I had spies working in the Syndicate. Remember the Mechaziner?" Rafael stroked his beard with one hand and grinned. "Your identity was pretty much public at that point." / "§Ú¦³¤F¦b¥ø·~Áp¦X¤¤¤u§@ ªº¶¡¿Ò¡C °O±o Mechaziner?"Rafael ¥Î¤@°¦¤â¦E§À¼Õ¥LªºÄGŽ¦Ó¥BÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C " §Aªº¨­¥÷¨º®É«D±`¤½²³" ¡C
"What else? How much else do you know?" / " ¤°»ò§Oªº? ¦h¤Ö§Oªº§Aª¾¹D¶Ü?"
"That you have four working partners, all young people. And of course there are the news reports. At the moment, your friends are fine. They issued a statement shortly after the battle, and they're upsetting the media because they won't come into the open for interviews. They've also been very closed-mouthed about you. Rumor has it that they've held a private memorial service for you and the last two members of Red Impulse." / " §A¦³¥|­Ó¤u§@ªº¦X¹Ù¤H¡A©Ò¦³ªº¦~»´¤H¡C ¦Ó¥B·íµM¦³·s»D³ø§i¡C ¦¹¨è¡A§AªºªB¤Í«Ü¦n¡C ¦]¬°¥L­Ì±N¤£¬°­±½Í¶i¤J¤½¶}¡A©Ò¥H¥L­Ì¦b¾Ôª§¤§«á¤£¤[µo¦æ¤F¤@¥÷³¯­z¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­Ì¥¿¦bÄAÂдCÅé¡C ¥L­Ì¤]¤w¸g«D±`Ãö³¬-Ãö©ó§A¸ËµÄ§@¶Õ»¡¸Ü¡C ÁÁ¨¥¦³¥¦¥L­Ì¤w¸g¬°§A©M¬õ¦âªº½Ä°Ê³Ì«á¤G­Ó¦¨­û®³µÛ¤@­Ó¨p¤Hªº°l±¥»ö¦¡¡C"
"Red Impulse?" / "¬õ¦âªº½Ä°Ê"?
"Killed at Cross Karakoram." / "¦b¥æ¤eªº Karakoram ±þ" ¡C
The shock at Oniishi's and Masaki's deaths gave way to another, more frightening realization: So they think I'm dead. That means they don't know I'm here. / ÅåÀ~¦b Oniishi's ©M Masaki's ªº¦º¤`´£¨Ñ¤F¨ì¥t¥~¤@ªº¸ô¡AÅåÀ~¹ê²{ ªº§ó¦h: ¦]¦¹¥L­Ì»{¬°§Ú¦º¡C ¨º·N¿×¥L­Ì¤£ª¾¹D§Ú¦b³o¸Ì¡C
"I'll explain everything in detail later. First, though, I want to check on how you're recovering, and I can only do that if you tell me how you are feeling. Other than suspicious." / "§Ú±Nµy«á¸Ô²Ó¦a¸ÑÄÀ¨C¥ó¨Æª«¡C ­º¥ý¡AÁöµM¡A§Ú·Q­nÀˬd¦b§A¦p¦ó¥¿¦b§ä¦^¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú¤~¯à°µ¤§¤W¦pªG§A§i¶D§Ú§A¦p¦ó¥¿¦b·Pı¡C °£¤F¥iºÃªº¤§¥~¡C"
He didn't sound like a Galactor. Between his stance, his slow way of speaking and his calm, commanding tone that was soothingly similar to Nambu's, Joe gave a little ground. "Strange. I feel strange, like everything's happening a long way off. A little shaky. Nothing hurts." / ¥L¨S¦³Å¥°_¨Ó¹³ Galactor ¤@¼Ë¡C ¦b¥LªººA«×¤§¶¡,¥L»¡ªººC¤èªk©M¥Lªº¥­Ã­¡A¹ï Nambu's ¬O¼¾¼¢¬Û¦üªº«ü´§©ú·t,³ì´£¨Ñ¤F¤p¤pªº¦a­±¡C "©_©Çªº¡C §Úı±o©_©Ç, ¹³¨C¥ó¨Æª«µo¥Í¨«¶}ªº¤@­Óªøªº¤èªk¡C µy·L°Ê·n¡C ¨S¨Æ¶Ë®`¡C"
The doctor nodded. "The weakness is only natural--regeneration like you went through takes an incredible amount of energy. If you hadn't been in excellent physical condition before your... accidents, you would still be unconscious now. Sensation should adjust in a little while." / Âå¥ÍÂIÀY¡C "®zÂI¬O°ß¤@ªº¥Õ·ö-- ¹³§A¤@¼Ëªº¦A¥Í¬ï¹L±aÃø¥H¸m«H¶qªº¯à·½¡C ¦bÀu¨}ªº¹ê»Ú±¡ªp¤¤°²¦p§A¤£¬O¥H«e§Aªº¡C¡C¡C ·N¥~¨Æ¥ó,§A±N·|¤´µM²{¦b¬OµL·NÃѪº¡C ·Pı¦b¤p¤pªº¤@·|¨à¤¤À³¸Ó½Õ¾ã¡C"
"How long have I been... regenerating?" / " ¦h¤[§Ú¬O¡C¡C¡C ¦A²£¥Í?"
"Six weeks." / "¤»­Ó¬P´Á".
"Huh. I don't feel like I'm recovering from anything." But something was different, wrong. Joe swung his legs over the side of the table, and the sheet slipped off. / "­ó!¡C §Ú¨S·Pı¹³§Ú¥¿¦b«ì´_¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡C"¦ý¬O¬Y¨Æ¬O¤£¦Pªº,¿ù»~ªº¡C ³ì·nÂ\¤F¦b®à¤lªºÃä¤W¥L»L¡A¦Ó¥B±i¨«¶}·Æ­Ë¡C
He was naked. That was to be expected, and didn't bother him. But the second thing he noticed shook him: the body that he saw beneath him wasn't his. The build was similar--lean and tightly corded with muscles and veins--but the skin was too smooth, too perfect. There were no freckles or marks, no tan lines, and no scars. / ¥L¬O¨ª»rªº¡C ¨º¬O³Q´Á±æ, ¦Ó¥B¨S¦³·ÐÂZ¥L¡C ¦ý¬O²Ä¤G¥ó¨Æª«¥Lª`·N·n°Ê¤F¥L: ¥L¬Ý¨£ªº¨­Åé¦b¥L¤§¤U¤£¬O¥Lªº¡C ¨º«Ø¥ß¬O¬Û¦üªº-- ½G¦×©Mºòºò¥Î¯Á¤l±î²Ï¥Ñ©ó¦Ù¦×©MÀR¯ß--¦ý¬O¥Ö½§¤Ó¥­·Æªº,¤Ó§¹¬ü¡C ¨S¦³³¶´³©Î¼Ð»x , ¨S¦³¶À½Å¦âªº½u , ©M¨S¦³¬Í²ª¡C
Throughout his adventures Joe had picked up plenty of scars. Souvenirs from knife fights, bullet grazes and shrapnel wounds had left a fine network of tiny white marks across his arms, legs and chest. And events at Cross Karakoram should have left some impressive bullet scars. Joe checked his left arm, then his right. The old bullet wounds from BC Island; the cut where Katse had once stabbed a scalpel into his arm; the scars on his hands from shattered glass... they were all gone. / ¦b¥Lªº«_ÀI³ì¦U³B¤w¸g¬B°_³\¦h¬Í²ª¡C ¨Ó¦Û¤Mªº¬ö©À«~¹ï§Ü,¤l¼u¨Ï¦Y¯ó¡A¦Ó¥B¶}ªá¼u³Ð¶Ë¤w¸g¯d¤U¾î¹L¥Lªº¤â¡A»L©M¯Ýªº·¥¤p¥Õ¦âªº¼Ð»x¤@­Ó¦nªººô¸ô¡C ¦Ó¥B¦b¥æ¤eªº Karakoram ªº¨Æ¥óÀ³¸Ó­n¯d¤U¤@¨Ç¥O¤H¦L¶H²`¨èªº¤l¼u¬Í²ªªº¡C ³ìÀˬd¤F¥Lªº¥ª¤âÁu, µM«á¥LªºÅv§Q¡C ¨Ó¦Û¦è¤¸«e®qªºÂ¤l¼u³Ð¶Ë; Katse ´¿¸g¤w¸g¨ë¤@­Ó¤p¤M¶i¥Lªº¤âÁu¤§¤ºªº¤Á; ¨Ó¦Û¥´¸Hªº¬Á¼þ¦b¥Lªº¤â¤W¬Í²ª¡C¡C¡C ¥L­Ì¥þ³¡¤£¨£¤F¡C
There was no way to remove scars like that. Not without replacing the skin. / ¨S¦³¤èªk°£¥h¹³¨º¤@¼Ëªº¬Í²ª¡C ¤£¬O¤£§ó´«¥Ö½§¡C
Joe's breath came faster and the room began spinning again. He grabbed the table beneath him and held on tightly. There was an awful creaking, popping sound, and he looked down, to find that his fingers had dug through the plastic covering of the table. The exposed metal frame was bent, and the stuffing oozed between his fingers like blood. / ³ìªº©I§l³Q´£¥X§ó§Ö³t¦a¦Ó¥B©Ð¶¡¶}©l¦A¤@¦¸¯¼Â´¡C ¥L¦b§ì¨ú®à¤l¤§¤U¥L¨Ã¥B®³µÛ¦bºòºò¦a¤§¤W¡C ¦³¥i©Èªº§@ÁÓªîÁn, ¨ú¥XÁn­µ,¦Ó¥B¥L¬Ý¤U¨Ó, µo²{¥Lªº¤â«ü¤w¸g¸g¹L®à¤lªº¶ì½¦Âл\«õ¡C ¼ÉÅSªºª÷ÄÝ»sªºÅé®æ³QÅs¦±¡A¦Ó¥B¶ñ¶ëª«¦b¹³¦å¤@¼Ëªº¥L¤â«ü¤§¶¡º¯¥X¡C
"What did you do to me?" His voice came out strangled with horror. / "§A¹ï§Ú°µ¤°»ò"? ¥LªºÁn­µ¥HÅåÀb¥X¨Ó°Ç¦º¡C
"Joe, sit back. You're not ready to--" / "³ì,³S¤â®ÇÆ[¡C §AÁÙ¨S·Ç³Æ¦n¨ì--"
"What have you DONE?" Joe's feet found the floor, and after a moment's fight for balance, he took a step forward. Rafael backed up. / "§A°µ¤F¤°»ò"? ³ìªº¸}µo²{¦aªO, ©M¦b¤ù¨èªº¾Ô°«¤§«á¹ï©ó¥­¿Å¡A¥L¦V«e¦a±Ä¨ú¤F¤@­Ó¨BÆJ¡C Rafael ¤ä«ù¡C
Joe lunged after him--only his body responded far more quickly than he had intended. Rafael threw himself to the floor and rolled, just in time to prevent Joe's hands from contacting with his chest. Joe hurtled past and hit the opposite wall with an impact that smashed several panels and sent up a shower of sparks. Stunned, he slid down, then staggered awkwardly to his feet and braced himself for another try. / ¦b¥L¤§«á¦³ªÍªº³ì--°ß¤@ªº¥L¨­Åé¦^À³¤ñ¥L§ó§Ö¡C Rafael ¥á¥L¦Û¤v¨ì¦aªO¦Ó¥B±², ¶È¶È¤Î®Éªý¤î³ìªº¤â¥H¥Lªº¯Ý³sµ¸¡C ³ì¸I¼²¤F¹L¥h¦Ó¥B¥Î¤@ºØ¯»¸H¤F¤@¨Ç»ö¿öªO¡A¦Ó¥B°e¤W¤õªáªº¤@¦¸°}«Bªº½ÄÀ»À»¤¤¬Û¤ÏªºÀð¾À¡C ¨Ï·w­Ë, ¥L slid åP¸¨, µM«á²Â©å¦aÂÚ¶\¨ì¥Lªº¸}¦Ó¥B·Ç³Æªï±µ¥t¤@­Ó¹Á¸Õ¡C
"Calm down!" the doctor snapped, still in control even though he was lying in a vulnerable position, with no way to regain his feet before the next attack. "Your cybernetics aren't calibrated yet, and you'll tear the whole lab down!" / "§NÀR"! Âå¥Í«rÂ_,µM¦Ó¦b±±¨î¤¤§Y¨Ï¥L¥¿¦b©ó¤@­Ó©ö¨ü¶Ë®`ªº¦ì¸m, ÂǥѨS¦³¤èªk¨ú¦^¦b¤U¤@­Ó§ðÀ»«eªº¥L¸}¡C "§Aªº´«±±¾Ç¤´µM¤£³Q®Õ·Ç¨è«×¡A¦Ó¥B§A±N©î·´¾ã­Óªº¹êÅç«Ç"!
Joe froze, his face white. The only sounds in the room were of Rafael's harsh breathing. / ³ì­áµ², ¥Õ¦âªº¥LÁy¡C °ß¤@ªºÁn­µ¦b©Ð¶¡¤¤¬O Rafael's ªº²ÊÁW©I§l¡C
"Cybernetics?" he whispered finally. "You made me a cyborg?" / "´«±±¾Ç"? ¥L³Ì«á¦Õ»y¡C "§A¨Ï§Ú¦¨¬° cyborg"?
Rafael got up from the floor, dusted himself off and looked Joe in the eyes. "Yes. It was the best way to save you, make you stronger and better than you were--" / ±q¦aªO°_§Éªº Rafael,¨«¶}©Ø¥h¦Ç¹Ð¤F¥L¦Û¤v¦Ó¥B¬Ý¤F²´·úªº³ì¡C "¬Oªº¡C ¥¦¬O³Ì¦nªº¤èªk¸Ñ±Ï§A, ¨Ï¤ñ§A§ó±j§§©M¦nªº§A¬O--"
This was too much. Joe could have coped with awakening in a cell or torture room with some Galactor commander gloating over his pain. But not this; not lying in a clean, cold laboratory with a rational, dignified stranger trying to gently explain how his body had been changed, transformed into something alien and uncontrollable. A rush of panic formed deep in Joe's chest, swelled and burst, enveloping him. He's lying--he has to be lying. I'll kill him. This is a trap. I have to get out of here. / ³o¬O¤Ó¦h¡C ³ìÀ³¸Ó¥i¥HÀ³¥I²Ó­M©Î«þ°Ýªº³ê¿ô©M¦b¥Lªºµh­W¤§¤Wº¡¨¬¦a¬Ý ªº¤@¨Ç Galactor «ü´§©xªº©Ð¶¡¡C ¦ý¬O¤£³o; ¤£¦b©ó¤@¶¡°®²bªº, ´H§Nªº¹êÅç«Ç¥Ñ©ó¤@­Ó¹Á¸Õ³vº¥¦a¸ÑÄÀ¥Lªº¨­Åé¦p¦ó¤w¸g³Q§ïÅÜ ªº²z©Ê, ¦³«ÂÄYªº­¯¥Í¤H, ¶i¤J¥~°êªºªF¦è¤§¤ºÂà´«©MµLªk±±¨îªº¡C ³Q§Î¦¨³ìªº¯Ý²`³Bªº®£·W¥^«P,¼W¤j¦Ó¥BÃzµõ,¥]«Ê¥L¡C ¥L¥¿¦b»¡ÁÀ--¥L¥²¶·»¡ÁÀ¡C §Ú±N±þ¥L¡C ³o¬O¤@­Ó°é®M¡C §Ú¦³¦b³o¸ÌÂ÷¶}¡C
Frantically he cast around for an exit, found one, and bolted for it. The door rushed toward his face. Joe braced for the impact, but it opened automatically just in time to prevent a head-on collision. But not fast enough to clear. Joe's shoulders slammed into the edges of the doors, denting them outward. The pain barely registered as he pulled past. / ¨g¼É¦a¥L¹ï©ó¤@­Ó¥X¤f¦bªþªñ§ë, µo²{¤@, ¦Ó¥B¬°¥¦­¬¦í¡C ªù¹ï©ó¥LªºÁy¶Ê«P¡C ³ì·Ç³Æªï±µ½ÄÀ»¡A¦ý¬O¥¦¤Î®É¦Û°Ê¦a¶È¶È¥´¶}ÁקK¥¿­±ªº¸I¼²¡C ¦ý¬O¤£¬O°÷§Ö³t²M°£¡C ³ìªºªÓ²rµM¦a¼²¶iªùªºÃä½t,¦V¥~¨Ï¥L­Ì¥W¤U¡C ·í¥L©Ô¤F¹L¥hªº®É­Ô¡Aµh­W´X¥Gµn°O¡C
"Joe," Rafael yelled. "Wait!" / "³ì", Rafael ¤j¥s¡C "µ¥­Ô"!
The corridors rushed past as Joe half stumbled, half ran through them, away from the lab and Rafael. Out. The corridors twisted around and around, with rows of faceless storage room doors and no sign of an exit--not even an air duct or serviceway. An L-junction came up, and before he could turn he slammed into it, wrenching his shoulder and denting the wall. That slowed him down, and he decided to try and walk fast instead of run. He could barely walk. The muscles in his legs felt like water. / ¨«´Y¶Ê«P¤F¦p³Q²Ì­Ëªº³ì¤@¥bªº¹L¥h,¤@¥b¶]¹L¥L­Ì,»·Â÷¹êÅç«Ç©M Rafael ¡C ¦b¥~¡C ¨«´YÀ¾¦b©M©P³ò¦bªþªñ,ÂǥѱƪºµL­±ÀxÂéж¡ªù©M¨S¦³¤@­Ó¥X¤fªº¸ñ¶H--¤£¨ÏªÅ®ðºÞ©Î serviceway ¬Ûµ¥¡C L-Áp±µµo¥Í ,¦b¥L¥i¥H±N¥L²rµMÃö¤WÅܦ¨¥¦,²r§á¥LªºªÓ¦Ó¥B¨ÏÀð¾À¥W¤U¤§«e¦Ó¥B¡C ¨º¨Ï¥L´îºC¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¨M©w¸Õ¦Ó¥B¨«¸ôÂN§Ù¥N´À©b¶]¡C ¥LµLªk¨«¸ô¡C ¥Lªº»L¦Ù¦×·Pı¹³¤ô¡C
There was a dark, empty room off to the right that looked safe. Joe staggered inside, and, remembering what he had done to the wall, reached very carefully for the close button. The door shut and locked. / ¨«¶}¹ï¬Ý°_¨Ó¦w¥þªºÅv§Q¦³¶Â·t¡AªÅªº©Ð¶¡¡C ³ìÂÚ¶\¤F¤º³¡,©M,°O±o¥L¤w¸g¹ïÀð¾À°µªº,«D±`¤p¤ß¦a¬°±µªñªº¶s¦©¨ì¹F¡C ªùÃö¤W¦Ó¥BÂê¡C
The lights were off, but Joe had no trouble seeing in the near-dark--not now. After the past few months of blurry vision, his sight was too clear, almost painfully sharp. He could hear--as a matter of fact, he could now feel--the whine of the fluorescent lights in the hall, and somehow realized without trying that a power line lay under the floor directly beneath his feet. He went to the desk and tore out the drawers. Office supplies--no directory, nothing he could use. The room looked like an office or lab reserved for a temporary worker, empty and impersonal. There was a phone, but when he picked it up, he found the line was dead. As he stared at the receiver in his hand, the plastic cracked and crumpled in his grip. / ¥ú¬O»·ªº¡A¦ý¬O³ì¦b¬Ý¨£¤è­±¨S¦³³Â·Ð¦b¨º±µªñ-¶Â·t-- ¤£²{¦b¡C ¦b¹L¥h´X­Ó¤ëªº¼Ò½kµø³¥¤§«á¡A¥Lªºµø¤O¤Ó²M·¡,´X¥Gµh­W¦a¾ã¡C ¥L¥i¥HÅ¥¨ì--¨Æ¹ê¤W¡A¥L²{¦b¥i¥H·Pı--ªùÆUªº¿Ã¥ú¥ú©ê«è, ¦Ó¥B¤£»Ý­n¹Á¸Õ´N¤£ª¾¦ó¬G¤F¸Ñª½±µ¦a¦b¥Lªº¸}¤§¤Uªº¦b¦aªO¤U­±ªº°ªÀ£¹q½uµ±¡C ¥L¥h®Ñ®à¦Ó¥B¼¹¯}¤F©â±P¡C ¿ì¤½¥Î«~--¨S¦³¥Ø¿ý,²@¤£¥L¥i¥H¨Ï¥Î¡C ©Ð¶¡¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤@­Ó¿ì¤½«Ç¤@¼Ë¡A§_«h¹êÅç«Ç¬°¤@­Ó¼È®Éªº¤u¤H«O¯d,ªÅªº©M«ÈÆ[ªº¡C ¦³¤@¨ã¹q¸Ü¡A¦ý¬O·í¥L¬B°_¥¦ªº®É­Ô, ¥Lµo²{½u¨S¹q¡C ·í¥L¨nµÛ¥Lªº¤â±µ¦¬¾¹¬Ýªº®É­Ô,¶ì½¦¦b¥Lªººò´¤¤¤§Ë¸H¦Ó¥B§Ë½K¡C
In his past three years of "official" battle with the Galactors, Joe had come across plenty of cyborgs; ingeniously built, singleminded, cold and deadly in a way that went beyond evil. Except for Lucy. All too vividly, he remembered his old racing partner turned Galactor cyborg--her rebellion, her burning drive to win above all odds. The horror he'd felt at her transformation. The way she'd bitterly fought her own body, finally bursting through a wall and exploding on the street five stories below. / ¦b©M Galactors ªº¥L¹L¥h¤T¦~ªº "©x­û" ¾Ôª§¤¤¡A³ì¤w¸g°¸µMµo²{³\¦h cyborgs; ÆF±Ó¦a«Ø³y,singleminded, ´H§Nªº©M­P©Rªº¦b¤@­Ó¥h¶W¹L¨¸´cªº¤èªk¤¤¡C °£¤FÅS¦è¥H¥~¡C ¥þ³¡¤Ó¥Í°Ê¦a¡A¥L°O±o¡A¥Lªº¦ÑÄvÁɦX¹Ù¤HÂà¦V¤F Galactor cyborg--¦oªº¿Ñ¤Ï, ¦oªº¿U¿N¾r¨®³Ì­«­nªÌűo¾÷·|¡C ¥L¦³¦b¦oªºÂà§Î·PıªºÅåÀb¡C ¦o¦³«è«ë¦a¥´¥M¤F¦o¦Û¤vªº¨­Åé¤èªk,³Ì«áÃzµõ¹L¤@­±Àð¾À¦Ó¥B¦b¤U­±ªºµó¹D¤­­Ó¬G¨Æ¤WÃz¬µ¡C
Is that what I've become? / ¬O¨º¤°»ò§Ú¤w¸gÅܦ¨?
There was a glass screen behind the desk, and in it Joe could just see his own reflection. The thin, pale face that stared back at him with haunted eyes still looked human--still looked like himself. / ¦³¦b®Ñ®à«á­±ªº¤@­Ó¬Á¼þ¿Ã¹õ¡A¦Ó¥B¦b¥¦¸Ì­±³ì¥i¥H¶È¶È¬Ý¨£¥L¦Û¤vªº¤Ï¬M¡C ½GªÌ¡Aª`µø¦V«á¦a¦b¥L¥Ñ©ó±`¨ìªº²´·ú¤´µM¬Ý°_¨Ó¤HÃþ -- ¤´µM³Q¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¥L¦Û¤v¤@¼Ëªº»a¥ÕÁy¡C
I can escape from here, go to the ISO, he thought desperately. Maybe Dr. Nambu can get me out of this. / §Ú¯à±q³o¸Ì°k²æ,¥h°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´,¥Lµ´±æ¦a·Q¡C ¤]³\ Nambu ³Õ¤h¯à§â§Ú»°¥X³o¡C
But what if that's what Rafael wants? I don't even know what he's done to me. I get past ISO security, get into the same room with him, then a bomb inside me goes off, or some unknown program kicks in and makes me start attacking. I'd kill him before anyone could stop me. / ¦ý¬O¤°»ò¦pªG¨º¬O Rafael ©Ò­nªº? §Ú¤£¬Æ¦Üª¾¹D¥L¤w¸g¹ï§Ú°µªº¡C §Ú±o¨ì¹L¥hªº°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¦w¥þ,©M¥L¶i¤J¬Û¦Pªº©Ð¶¡, µM«á¤@­Ó¬µ¼u¦b§Ú¤§¤ºÃz¬µ, ©Î¤@¨Ç¥¼ª¾ªº­pµe½ð¦b¦Ó¥B¨Ï§Ú¶}©l§ðÀ»¡C ¦b¥ô¦ó¤H¥i¥Hªý¤î§Ú¤§«e , §Ú±N·|±þ¥L¡C
For the first time ever, he felt completely alone and out of control. Even when captured in the past, he'd always had an option. He could wait for his teammates to bail him out, or he could fight, run or die. Now he couldn't turn to his friends for help, and he didn't even have death as an option--Dr. Rafael had brought him back before, and he could do it again. He probably had a black box somewhere that could control Joe's every move. / ´¿¸g²Ä¤@¦¸¡A¥Lı±o§¹¥þ©t¿W©M¥¢¥h±±¨î¡C §Y¨Ï·í¹L¥h®·Àò,¥L¦³Á`¬O¦³¤F¿ï¶µ¡C ¥L¥i¥Hµ¥­Ô¥Lªº¶¤¤Í«OÄÀ¥L,©Î¥L¥i¥H¹ï§Ü,©b¶]©Î»ë¤l¡C ²{¦b¥L¤£¥i¥H½Ð¨D¥LªºªB¤ÍÀ°¦£¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¤£¬Æ¦Ü¦³¦p¿ï¶µªº¦º¤`--Rafael ³Õ¤h¥H«e¤w¸g§â¥L±a¦^¨Ó¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¦A¤@¦¸¥i¥H°µ¥¦¡C ¥L¥i¯à¬Y³B¦³¤F¤@­Ó¶Â²°¤l¨º¥i¥H±±¨î³ìªº¨C¦¸²¾°Ê¡C
He could make me fight against my family. Destroy them while they trusted me! / ¥L¥i¥H¨Ï§Ú¹ï§Ü§Úªº®a®x¡C ·í¥L­Ì«H¿à¤F§Úªº®É­Ô¡A¯}Ãa¥L­Ì!
Joe's fist slammed into the screen, and his reflection exploded in a cloud of shattered glass. The desk splintered and the chair flew across the room and smashed against the opposite wall. He screamed, a long, incoherent cry that reverberated in the close confines of the room and scared him even more. Each move--the inhuman strength in it--hammered home the reality of what he'd become and what he could do, and his panic escalated until he could no longer feel anything at all. / ³ìªº®±ÀY²rµM¦a¼²¶i¿Ã¹õ¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¤Ï¬M¦b¤@¤j°ï¥´¸H¬Á¼þ¤¤Ãz¬µ¡C ®Ñ®à¼A¶}¡A¦Ó¥B´È¤l­¸¹L©Ð¶¡¨Ã¥B¯»¸H¹ï§Ü¬Û¤ÏªºÀð¾À¡C ¥L¦y¥s,ªø,¦b©Ð¶¡ªº±µªñæ¬É¤¤¦^ÅT¨Ã¥BÅåÀ~¤F¥L¬Ûµ¥§ó¦hªº¤£³s³eªº­úÁn¡C ¨C¦¸²¾°Ê--¦b¥¦¸Ì­±ªº´Ý§Ô¤O¶q-- ¥L¤w¸gÅܱoÂñ¥´¦b®a¨Æ¹ê©M¥L¥i¥H°µ¤°»ò, ©M¥Lªº³QÂX¤jªº®£·Wª½¨ì¥L¥i¥H¤£¦A¥þµM·Pı¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡C
Joe awoke in the lab, feeling bruised, sore and tired. Looking around, he noticed the damage he had done to the room had been repaired. Or perhaps it hadn't happened at all.... That hope vanished when he spotted Dr. Rafael sitting in a chair nearby. Instantly Joe leaped off the lab table, overturned the doctor's chair and pinned Rafael to the floor. One hand was pressed lightly over the doctor's throat. Bright blue eyes bored into Rafael's own, pupils dilated like a hunting cat's. / ³ì¦b¹êÅç«Ç¤¤³ê¿ô,·Pı¥´¶Ë,¯kµhªº©M¯h²Öªº¡C ¥|³B¬Ý¬Ý,¥Lª`·N¡A¥L¤w¸g°µ¨ì©Ð¶¡ªº·l®`¤w¸g³Q­×²z¡C ©Î¤]³\¥¦¤@ÂI¤]¤£µo¥Í.... ·í¥L¦bªþªñªº¤@±i´È¤l¤¤¬Ý¨£ Rafael ³Õ¤h®y¦ì¦w±Æªº®É­Ô¡A¨º¤@­Ó§Æ±æ®ø¥¢¡C ¥ß§Y¦a¨«¶}³Q¸õÅDªº³ì¹êÅç«Ç®à¤l,±À½¤FÂå¥Íªº´È¤l¦Ó¥B¥Î°w§O¦í¤F¨ì¦aªOªº Rafael ¡C ¤@°¦¤â³Q¦bÂå¥Íªº«|³ï¤§¤W»´»´ªºÀ£¡C ¦Û¤vªº¶i¤J Rafael's ¤§¤º·P¨ìµL²áªº©ú«GÂŦ⪺²´·ú,³QÂX¤jªº¾Ç¥Í³ßÅw¬¼Ây¿ßªº¡C
"You learn fast," the doctor rasped. / " §A¾Ç²ßÂN§Ù",Âå¥Í¥Î²Ê¾V¤M¾V¡C
"One of the job requirements," Joe hissed through his teeth. / "¤u§@»Ý¨D¤§¤@",³ìµo¥X¼NÁn¹L¥Lªº¤ú¾¦¡C
Rafael took a slow, constricted breath. Joe was being careful, which meant he was rational, wanted to talk and knew that Rafael was the only one who could get him out of his predicament. That was a good sign. Show him your authority. Stay in charge. / Rafael ®³¤FºC,À£ÁY©I§l¡C ³ì¬O¤p¤ß, ·N¿×¥L¬O²z©Êªº,·Q­n»¡¸Ü¦Ó¥Bª¾¹D¤F Rafael ¬O¥i¥H§â¥L»°¥X¥Lªºª¬ºA°ß¤@ªº¡C ¨º¬O¤@­Ó¦n²Å¸¹¡C µ¹¥L¬Ý§AªºÅv«Â¡C °±¯d´xºÞ¡C
"Don't be a fool, Joe. You've hurt yourself enough for one day, even if it hasn't come to your attention yet." "I won't work for Galactor," Joe snarled. "You won't use me." / "¤£­n¬O·M¤H¡A³ì¡C §A¤w¸g¬°¤@¤Ñ¶Ë®`§A¦Û¤v¥R¨¬,§Y¨Ï¥¦¨S¦³¤´µM±o¨ì§Aªºª`·N¡C""§Ú±N¤£¬° Galactor ¤u§@",³ì§q¥s¡C "§A±N¤£¨Ï¥Î§Ú" ¡C
The doctor snorted. "Nobody's trying to get you to work for Galactor. The Syndicate was trying to kill you, if I remember. And if I was Galactor and wanted to control you like you believe I do, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Especially not in this position. Let me up, and we'll discuss things like gentlemen. Or are you afraid I'll rot your ears?" / Âå¥Í¼QµÛ®ð§ËÅT»ó¤l¡C "¤£­«­n¤§¤H¹Á¸Õ±o¨ì§A¬° Galactor ¤u§@¡C ¦pªG§Ú°O±o¡A¥ø·~Áp¦X¥¿¦b¹Á¸Õ±þ§A¡C ¦Ó¥B¦pªG§Ú¬O Galactor ¨Ã¥B·Q­n±±¨î§A³ßÅw¡A§A¬Û«H¡A§Ú°µ,§Ú­Ì±N·|¤£¦b¦³³o¥æ½Í¡C ¤×¨ä¤£¦b³o¤@­Ó¦ì¸m¤¤¡C Åý§Ú´£°ª¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú­Ì±N°Q½×¹³²Ô¤h¤@¼Ëªº¨Æª«¡C ©Î§A«Ü®`©È§Ú±N»GÄê§Aªº¦Õ¦·?"
Joe glared at him for a timeless interval, then released him and slowly backed away. Already he felt drained; all his reserves used up in the attack. / ³ì¬°¤@­Ó¥Ã¤[ªº¶¡¹j¦b¥Lµo¯t¥ú, µM«áÄÀ©ñ¥L¦Ó¥BºCºC¦a°hÁY¡C ¤w¸g¥L·Pı±Æ¥X·¾¥~; ¥L©Ò¦³ªº«O¯d¦b§ðÀ»¤¤¥Î¥ú¡C
Rafael didn't feel much better; his ears rang and his body shook with delayed reaction. With as much dignity as he could muster, the old man stood up, brushed himself off, then set his chair upright again and sat down. "Thank you. I want your help, and I'm asking you to give it to me of your own free will. It's the only way we'll achieve our goal." / Rafael ¨S¦³¦n¦h¤F·Pı; ¥Lªº¦Õ¦·»ïÅT¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¨­Åé¥H©µ¿ðªº¤ÏÀ³·n°Ê¡C ¥Ñ©ó·í°µ¥L¥i¥H¥l¶°ªº«Ü¦h´LÄY¡A³Q¯¸°_¨Óªº¦Ñ¤H,¨«¶}²¨¨ê¤F¥L¦Û¤v, µM«á¦A¤@¦¸ª½¥ß¦a³]©w¥Lªº´È¤l¦Ó¥B§¤¤U¡C "ÁÂÁ§A¡C §Ú·Q­n§AªºÀ°¦£¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú¥¿¦b­n¨D§A§A¦Û¤vªº¦Û¥Ñ·N§Ó§â¥¦µ¹§Ú¡C ¥¦¬O§Ú­Ì±N¹F¦¨§Ú­Ìªº¥Ø¼Ð°ß¤@ªº¤èªk¡C"
"Well, you're off to a great start." / "¶â¡A§A¥h¤@­Ó´Îªº¶}©l" ¡C
"Just listen. I made you a cyborg because it was the only way to revive you, and the only way to return you to active combat. You and I both know how badly hurt you were, and I dare say that had you been taken back to the ISO and revived--in itself a very slim possibility--you would have spent the rest of your life in a wheelchair, half-blind and paralyzed. You don't strike me as the kind who would enjoy that, especially a few years from now." / "¶È¶ÈÅ¥¡C ¦]¬°¥¦¬O°ß¤@ªº¤èªk¨Ï§Aµd¿ô¡A©Ò¥H§Ú¨Ï§A¦¨¬° cyborg, ©M°ß¤@ªº¤èªkÂkÁÙ§Aµ¹¿n·¥ªº¾Ô°«¡C §A©M§Ú­Ç³£ª¾¹D¦p¦óÄY­«¦a¶Ë®`§A¬O¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú´±µo¨¥Åv§A¤w¸g³Q°eÁÙ¨ì°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´­þ¤@¦Ó¥B¨Ï-µd¿ô- ¥»¨Ó¤@ºØ«D±`½Gªº¥i¯à©Ê--§A·|´ç¹L¤@­Ó½ü´Èªº§A¥Í¬¡ªº¨ä¾lªÌ,¤@¥b- ª¼¤H¦Ó¥B³Â·ô¡C §A¤£¦p±N·|¨É¨üªºÃþ«¬§ðÀ»§Ú, ¤×¨ä±q²{¦b°_ªº¼Æ¦~¡C"
He's baiting me, Joe thought. "Being made a machine has its drawbacks too." / ¥L¥¿¦b¥H»ç¤Þ»¤§Ú,³ì·Q¡C " ³Q¨Ï¤@³¡¾÷¾¹¦³¥¦ªº¤£§QÂI¡A¤]".
Dr. Rafael leaned forward in his chair. "But you're not a machine. Not in the sense of a cold metal contraption. I've enhanced your body, not replaced it. Cut you, and you still bleed." He pointed, and Joe only then noticed the blood that was running down his arm. The IV bag still hung on its hook above his chair, and its contents were spilling through the broken tube and pooling on the floor. He'd ripped the line loose when he'd attacked. "And those bandages aren't for decoration. May I?" / Rafael ³Õ¤h¦b¥Lªº´È¤l¤¤¦V«e¦a­Ê¾a¡C "¦ý¬O§A¤£¬O¤@³¡¾÷¾¹¡C ¤£¬O¦b¬YºØ·N¸q¤W¤@­Ó´H§Nªºª÷ÄÝ»sªº·sµo©úª«¡C §Ú¤w¸g´£°ª§Aªº¨­Åé,¤£´À´«¤F¥¦¡C ´î¤Ö§A¡A¦Ó¥B§A¤´µM¬y¦å¡C"¥L³Q«ü¥X¡A¦Ó¥B³ì¥u¦³µM«áª`·N¤F¥¿¦b¶]¤U¨Ó¥Lªº¤âÁu¦å¡C 4 ³U¤l¤´µM¦b¥Lªº´È¤l¤W­±ªº¥¦¹_¤W¦Q¡A¦Ó¥B¥¦ªº¤º®e¬O·¸¥X¹LÃa±¼ªººÞ¦Ó¥B¦b¦aªO¤W§iµo¡C ·í¥L¦³§ðÀ»ªº®É­Ô¡A¥L¦³¼¹¶}¤F½u¸Ñ©ñ¡C " ¦Ó¥B¨º¨ÇÁ^±a¬O¤£¸Ë¹¢¡C ¥i¯à§Ú?"
Joe didn't move from where he stood, and he looked into the doctor's eyes with another of his long, appraising looks. The blood continued to drip from his arm and patter audibly onto the stone floor. Rafael frowned in concern, but forced himself to wait. / ³ì¨S¦³²¾°Ê±q¦b¥L¯¸µÛªº¦a¤è¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¥Lªº©M¥t¥~¤@½Õ¬dÂå¥Íªº²´·ú«Üªø,µû»ù®e»ª¡C ¦åÄ~Äò±q¥Lªº¤âÁu¦Ó¥B¥iÅ¥¨£¦aºw¤U¦b¥ÛÀY¦aªO¤§¤W«æ³t¦a°á¡C Rafael ¦bÃö¤ß¤¤½K¬ÜÀY, ¦ý¬O³Q­¢ªº¥L¦Û¤vµ¥­Ô¡C
"All right," Joe said finally. / "¦nªº",³ì³Ì«á»¡¡C
Rafael vanished into the next room and reappeared with a new IV setup, and gently took Joe's right arm. He wiped the blood off, then pressed at a spot in the crook of his elbow. Joe stared, half in horror, as Rafael pushed back a tiny flap of skin to reveal a duct where the old needle remained. Quickly he exchanged the needles and wrapped a bandage over Joe's arm to hold everything in place. "You still require food and sleep and a chance to heal. And if you stay in control of yourself, there won't be anything wrong with your sex life." Joe's expression turned venomous at that. / Rafael ¶i¤J¤U¤@­Ó©Ð¶¡¤§¤º®ø¥¢¦Ó¥B¥H¤@ºØ·sªº 4ºØ¸Ë¸m¦A¥X²{, ¦Ó¥B³vº¥¦a±a¤F³ìªº¥k¤âÁu¡C ¥L¨«¶}À¿¤F¦å, µM«á¦b¥Lªº¤â¨y¹_¤@­Ó¦aÂIÀ£¡C ³ìª`µø,ÅåÀbªº¤@¥b,¦p¦P Rafael ±À¦V«á­±¥Ö½§ªº·¥¤p©ç¥´Åã¥Ü¤@­Óªº°w«O«ùªººÞ¤@¼Ë¡C «Ü§Ö¦a¥L¥æ´«¤F°w¦Ó¥B¥]¸Ë¤F¦b³ìªº¤âÁu¤Wªº¤@±øÁ^±a¾A·í¤ä¼µ¨C¥ó¨Æª«¡C " §A¤´µM»Ý­n­¹ª«¦Ó¥BºÎı©M¤@­Ó¾÷·|ªv¡¡C ¦Ó¥B¦pªG§A°±¯d¦b§A¦Û¤vªº±±¨î¤¤,¿ù»~¨ã¦³§Aªº©Ê§O¥Í¬¡±N¨S¦³¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡C"³ìªºªí¹F¦b¨ºÅܦ³¬rªº¡C
"What have you put in my head?" / "§A´£¥X§ÚªºÀY¤F¤°»ò"?
The old man grinned, then thought better of his reply. "I had to add an implant that regulated motor functions--to compensate for the old injury that almost killed you. There's another implant that increases sensory input and speeds your reflexes. There's nothing that modifies your behavior, if that's what you're worried about. If I could control you that way, it means someone else could find a way to do so. That's why I need your voluntary cooperation." / ¦Ñ¤HÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º, µM«á§ó¥LªºµªÂзQ¡C " §Ú¥²¶·¼W¥[¤@­Ó´Ó¤J¾¹ºÞ²z°¨¹Fªº¥\¯à-- ¬°´X¥G±þ¤F§AªºÂ¨ü¶ËÀvÁÙ¡C ¦³¼W¥[ª¾Ä±ªº¿é¤J©M³t«×§Aªº¤Ï®g¥t¤@­Ó´Ó¤J¾¹¡C ¦pªG¨º¬O§A©Ò¾á¼~ªº¡A¦³­×¥¿§Aªº¦æ¬°¨S¨Æ¡C ¦pªG§Ú¥i¥H¨º¼Ë±±¨î§A,¥¦·N¿×¨ä¥L¤H¥i¥Hµo²{¤@­Ó¤èªk³o»ò°µ¡C ¨º¬O§Ú¬°¤°»ò»Ý­n§Aªº¦Û°Ê¦X§@¡C"
Rafael produced a remote control and pressed a button. A screen rolled down near the chair, and the enclosed projector displayed rows of schematics, crowded around a human outline that Joe recognized as his own. "Now look here. Most of the additions I made consist of external armor," the doctor explained. "You can withstand extreme temperatures and harden your skin to deflect injuries--however, that's something you must learn to do, and that's why you injured yourself." He looked back from the screen to Joe, who for some reason felt embarrassed and looked away. "Your extra strength comes from implants placed here, here, here and here." He pointed to parts of the schematic. "Which kick in whenever your natural system is overstressed. That is why, right now, you can run, but you can't walk. You're so weak that the boost happens constantly, giving you too much, too fast. You'll adjust, and I'll help you." / Rafael ¥Í²£¤F»»»·ªº±±¨î¦Ó¥B«ö¤F¤@­Ó«ö¶s¡C ¤@­Ó¿Ã¹õ¦b´È¤lªºªþªñ±²¤U¨Ó¡A¦Ó¥B©Òªþªº§ë¼v¾÷Åã¥Ü¤F±Æªº¹Ïªí,¸Á´é³ò¶³ì¿ë»{¥X¦p¥L¦Û¤vªº¤@­Ó¤HÃþªº¤jºõ¡C "²{¦b¦b³o¸Ì¬Ý¡C ¤j³¡¥÷ªºªþ¥[§Ú°µ¦³¥~³¡ªº²¯¥Ò,"Âå¥Í¸ÑÄÀ¡C "§A¯à©è§Ü·¥ºÝªº·Å«×¦Ó¥BÅܵw§Aªº¥Ö½§¨Ï¨ü¶Ë°¾±×-- µM¦Ó¡A¨º¬O¬Y¨Æ§A¤@©w­n¾Ç²ß°µ¡A¦Ó¥B¨º¬O§A¬°¤°»ò¶Ë®`¤F§A¦Û¤v". ¥L¦V«á¦a±q¿Ã¹õ¨ì³ì¬Ý,³ì¹ï©ó¤@¨Ç²z¥Ñ¤òÀ֨ϦӥB§xµ~¬ÝÂ÷¶}¡C "§AªºÃB¥~¤O¶q¨Ó¦Û³Q©ñ¸m¦b³o¸Ìªº´Ó¤J¾¹¡A³o¸Ì,¦b³o¸Ì©M¦b³o¸Ì". ¥L«ü¦V·§­nªÌªº³¡¥÷¡C " ½ð¦bµL½×¦ó®É§Aªº¦ÛµM¨t²Î³Q¹L¤À±j½Õ¡C ¨º¬O¬°¤°»ò,¥ß¨è¡A§A¯à¶]¡A¦ý¬O§A¤£¯à¨«¸ô¡C §A¬O¦p¦¹ªº®z¥H­P©ó±À¶i¤£Åܦaµo¥Í,µ¹§A¤Ó¦h,¤Ó§Ö³tªº¡C §A±N½Õ¾ã¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú±NÀ°§U§A¡C"
"Huh." / "­ó!".
"Your senses are enhanced; vision and hearing sharpened. You can also pick up certain electrical fields, good for detecting bugs and tracers, and making it easier to home in on enemy craft." He was talking eagerly now, like a salesman extolling the virtues of an expensive new sports car. The comparison made Joe shudder. / "§Aªº·Pı³Q´£°ª; µø³¥©MÅ¥ÃÒ·|¦y¾U¡C §A¤]¯à¬B°_¯S©wªº¹q»â°ì,µo²{ÂΩM°lÂܪ̪º¦n³B, ¦Ó¥B¨Ï¥¦§ó®e©ö¨ì®a¦b¼Ä¤H­¸¾÷¤W¡C"¥L¥¿¦b²{¦b¼ö¤ß¦aÁ¿¸Ü,¹³¤@­Ó¹|·¨¶Qªº·s¹B°Ê¨T¨®ªº¼w¦æ ªº°â³f­û¡C ¤ñ¸û¨Ï³ì¾Ô·X¡C
"What's wrong?" / "«ç»ò¦^¨Æ"?
"Nothing. No, one thing. You're not telling me why. Who am I supposed to be fighting?" / "¨S¨Æ¡C ¤£,¤@¥ó¨Æª«¡C §A¨S¦³¦b§i¶D§Ú¬°¤°»ò¡C §Ú³Q±À·Q¨ì½Ö¹ï§Ü?"
"Sosai X." / "Sosai X".
"What?" / "¤°»ò"?
"Not right away, of course. He hasn't realized he's failed yet, so we still have some time." / " ¤£¬O¥ß¨è , ·íµM¡C ¥L¨S¦³¤F¸Ñ¥L¤´µM¤w¸g¥¢±Ñ¡A¦]¦¹¡A§Ú­Ì¤´µM¦³¼Æ®É¶¡¡C"
"What do you mean?" / " §A·N¿×¤°»ò"?
"Oh that's right. You haven't seen the news." Dr. Rafael walked to a console and pressed a call button. A few minutes later, the door beeped and two assistants entered. A woman in a white coat brought in a video tape and a bundle of newspapers, then left. A young man cleaned up the spilled blood and broken equipment. When he left, Rafael continued. "You won this battle. Berg Katse is dead and Sosai X is fleeing. There are forensics teams crawling all over Cross Karakoram, and now there's a permanent ISO facility set up to study the Mantle System through the hole that the Galactors opened up. The Syndicate itself is falling apart, fighting among themselves with no leader to solidify them. At their current rate, they won't last long." / " ®@­þ¤@¬OÅv§Q¡C §A¨S¦³¬Ý¨ì·s»D¡C"Rafael ³Õ¤h¨«¸ô¥h±±¨îÂi¦Ó¥B«ö¤F¤@­Ó©I¥s«ö¶s¡C ¤@¨Ç¤ÀÄÁ¤§«á¡Aªù¹Í¹ÍÁn¡A¦Ó¥B¤G­Ó§U²z¶i¤J¡C ³Q¤Þ¶i¿ý¼v±a©M³ø¯Èªº®¹¤@¥ó¥Õ¦âªº¥~®M¤@­Ó¤k¤H,µM«áÂ÷¶}¡C ¤@­Ó¦~»´ªº¨k¤H²M±½³Q·¸¥Xªº¦å©MÃa±¼ªº»ö¾¹¡C ·í¥LÂ÷¶}ªº®É­Ô,Rafael Ä~Äò¡C "§A¾Æ±o¤F³o¤@³õ¾Ôª§¡C ¦B¤s Katse ¦º¡A¦Ó¥B Sosai X ¥¿¦b°k¨«¡C ¦³ªkÂå¤p²Õ¨ì³Bª¦¦æ¥æ¤eªº Karakoram ¡A¦Ó¥B²{¦b¦³³Q«Ø¥ß¸g¹L Galactors ¦³¸Üª½»¡ªº¬}¾Ç²ß¦a²[¨t²Îªº¥Ã¤[°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´³]³Æ¡C ¥ø·~Áp¦X¥»¨­¥¿¦b¤À§O¦a¸¨¤U, ©M¨S¦³»â³S¦b¥L­Ì¦Û¤v¤§¤¤¹ï§Ü¾®©T¥L­Ì¡C ¥H¥L­Ìªº²{¦b¤ñ²v¡A¥L­Ì¤£±N³Ì«á´÷±æ¡C"
"So X is gone and Galactor's disbanding--" / " ¦]¦¹ X ¤£¨£¤F©M Galactor's ¸Ñ´²--"
"And I expect the reprieve to last a little over a year," Rafael finished for him. / "¦Ó¥B§Ú´Á«Ý½w¦D¦b¤@¦~¥H¨Óµy·L«ùÄò",Rafael ¬°¥L§¹¦¨¡C
"Why?" / "¬°¤°»ò"?
"Because once he discovers that his plan didn't work, X will return. He's like a stubborn, spoiled child with a four-digit IQ, and he doesn't like being defied by anything or anyone. When he comes back, it will be to destroy." Rafael punched another button and a new display appeared on screen--this time a map of space, marked with a red line that curved back toward the earth. "This is the estimated trajectory for X's craft. From these calculations, I estimate he'll be back in fourteen months." / "¦]¬°¤@¥¹¥Lµo²{¡A¥Lªº­p¹º¨S¦³¤u§@,X ±NÂkÁÙ¡C ¥L¦³¥Î¥|­Ó¼Æ¦rªº IQ ³ßÅw¤@­Ó¹x©Tªº, ¨ü¯}Ãaªº«Ä¤l¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¤£³ßÅw³Q¥ô¦ó¨Æ©Î¥ô¦ó¤HÂƵø¡C ·í¥L¦^¨Óªº®É­Ô,¥¦±N¬O¯}Ãa¡C"Rafael ¥H®±­«À»¤F¥t¤@­Ó¶s¦©¡A¦Ó¥B¤@­Ó·sªº®iÄý¦b¿Ã¹õ¤W¥X²{--³o¦¸ªÅ¶¡ªº¤@±i¦a¹Ï,¥H¤@±ø¹ï©ó¦a²y¦V«á¦aÅsªº¬õ¦â½u¼Ð¥Ü¡C "³o¬O X's ªº­¸¾÷³Q¦ô­pªº­y¹D¡C ±q³o¨Ç­pºâ¡A§Ú¦ô­p¥L±N¦^¨ì¤Q¥|­Ó¤ë¡C"
"Where did you get the map?" Joe was no astronomer, but he could tell that this map was more elaborate than any used at the ISO. "And how is it you know Sosai X so well?" / " §A¦b­þùرo¨ì©O¦a¹Ï"? ³ì¤£¬O¤Ñ¤å¾Ç®a¡A¦ý¬O¥L¥i¥H§i¶D³o±i¦a¹Ï§óºë²Ó¥ô¦óªº¦b°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¨Ï¥Î¡C " ¦Ó¥B¥¦¦n¶Ü§Aª¾¹D Sosai X ¦p¦¹´é¥X"?
"I was forced to work with him for two years." That wasn't the whole story, but it was all the young man needed to know for now. / "§Ú¤£±o¤£»P¥L¦X§@¤G¦~" ¡C ¨º¤£¬O¾ã­Óªº¬G¨Æ¡A¦ý¬O¥¦¥þ³£¬O¦~»´ªº¨k¤H»Ý­n¬°²{¦bª¾¹D¡C
It was too much. Instantly Joe was back on the defensive, hackles raised and muscles tensed to leap off the table. "Goddammit, I knew it--" / ¥¦¬O¤Ó¦h¡C ¥ß§Y¦a³ì¦b¦u¶Õ¤W¦^¨Ó,ÀV³¡ªø¦Ð¤ò¤É°_¡A¦Ó¥B¦Ù¦×©Ôºò¨«¶}¸õÅD®à¤l¡C "Goddammit,§Úª¾¹D¤F¥¦--"
For the first time Rafael's patience gave out. "That's why I know he must be stopped!" he shouted. "Before, you swore to destroy Galactor at all costs. Do you still?" / ²Ä¤@¦¸ Rafael's ªº­@©Ê¯ÓºÉ¡C "¨º¬O§Ú¬°¤°»òª¾¹D¥L¤@©w­n³Q°±¤î"! ¥L©I³Û¡C " ¥H«e¡A§A«OÃÒ¤£±¤¥ô¦ó¥N»ù¯}Ãa Galactor¡C §A? ¦wÀR¶Ü"
"Of course. I--" / " ·íµM¡C §Ú--"
"Then listen to me, Joe! I know how X can be eliminated." He stabbed a finger at the young man. "And you must do it! I have the knowledge. You have the skills, the drive and the connections. You want revenge for what Galactor did to you, to your family? Sosai X is the source of it all! You want satisfaction? You can end this threat for good, but you need my help to do it! Now do you understand?" / "µM«áÅ¥§Úªº¸Ü,³ì! §Úª¾¹D X ¯à¦p¦ó³Q°£¥h¡C"¥L¨ë¤F¦b¦~»´ªº¨k¤H¤@®Ú¤â«ü¡C "¦Ó¥B§A¤@©w­n°µ¥¦! §Ú¦³ª¾ÃÑ¡C §A¦³§Þ³N¡A¾r¨®©M³s±µ¡C §A·Q­n³ø¤³¬°¤°»ò Galactor ¹ï§A°µ,¹ï§Aªº®a®x? Sosai X ¥þ³¡¬O¥¦ªº¨Ó·½! §A·Q­nº¡¨¬? §A¯à¥Ã¤[µ²§ô³o¤@ºØ«Â¯Ù¡A¦ý¬O§A»Ý­n§ÚªºÀ°¦£°µ¥¦! ²{¦b§A¤F¸Ñ¶Ü?"
Joe seemed to withdraw, pulling back pensively in his chair as he regarded the doctor. He recognized the obsession. He'd seen it many times, in others and in himself. / ³ì¦ü¥GºM¦^, ¦b¥Lªº´È¤l¤¤¨H«ä¦a©Ô­I­±·í¥Lµø¬°¤FÂå¥Í¡C ¥L¿ë»{¥X¤F¼ö°J¡C ¦b¨ä¥¦©M¥L¦Û¤v¤¤¥L¤w¸g³\¦h¦¸¬Ý¨ì¥¦¡C
"I think I do," he said softly. / "§Ú»{¬°¡A§Ú°µ",¥L¬X©M¦a»¡¡C
The old man's big shoulders relaxed, and he sighed. "Good." He placed the newspapers and remote control beside Joe's chair. "Here's what the media's had to say for the past several weeks. You have some catching up to do. Take a look at these, then get some rest. Use the remote to call if you need anything. Be as careful as you can. We'll begin your adjustments in the morning." / ¦Ñ¤Hªº¤jªÓ©ñÃP¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¼Û®§¡C "¦nªº". ¥L©ñ¸m¤F¦b³ìªº´È¤l®ÇÃ䪺³ø¯È©M»»»·ªº±±¨î¡C "´CÅ骺©Ò¥²¶·»¡¹L¥h¤@¨Ç­Ó¬P´Áªº¦b³o¸Ì¡C §A¦³¤@¨Ç®·®»¦b¤W­±°µ¡C ¬Ý¤@¬Ý³o¨Ç,µM«á±o¨ì¤@¨Ç¥ð®§¡C ¦pªG§A»Ý­n¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡A¨Ï¥Î»»»·ªÌ©I¥s¡C ¾¨¥i¯à¤p¤ßªº¬O¡C §Ú­Ì¦b¦­±á±N¶}©l§Aªº½Õ¾ã¡C"
"Aa." / "Aa".
The doctor turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, Joe stopped him. "Doctor Rafael." / Âå¥Í·Ç³ÆÂ÷¶}¡C ¥¿¦p¥L¨ì¹F¤Fªù,³ìªý¤î¤F¥L¡C "Âå¥Í Rafael".
"Yes?" / "¬Oªº"?
"If destroying Sosai X is your only goal, as you say, then I'll do all I can to help you. But--" Though he spoke quietly, Joe's voice carried more menace than anything Rafael had heard from any man. "If I find you're lying to me, you'll wish you'd left me for dead." / " ¦pªG¯}Ãa Sosai X ¬O§Aªº°ß¤@¥Ø¼Ð, ·í§A»¡ªº®É­Ô, µM«á§Ú±N°µ¥þ³¡§Ú¯àÀ°§U§A¡C ¦ý¬O--"ÁöµM¥L¦wÀR¦a»¡¡A¦ý¬O³ìªºÁn­µÄâ±aªº«Â¯Ù¤ñ¥ô¦ó¨Æ¦h Rafael ¤w¸g¦¬¨ì¥ô¦óªº¨k¤H«H¡C "¦pªG§Úµo²{ , §A¥¿¦b¹ï§Ú»¡ÁÀ,§A±NÄ@§A¦³¬°¦º¯d¤U¤F§Ú" ¡C
Rafael left. Once the laboratory door closed behind him, he stopped and leaned against the wall for support. / Rafael Â÷¶}¡C ¤@¥¹¹êÅç«ÇªùÃö³¬¦b¥L«á­±,¥L¬°¤ä«ù°±¤î¦Ó¥B­Ê¾aÀð¾À¡C
Ticking bomb indeed. / ³Q®M®Æªº½TÅF¬µ¡C
Joe tore apart the first newpaper without meaning to, and had to piece together the shreds in order to read it. The process was maddening because he had to slowly, delicately control hands that shook with the effort. Using the remote was easier--he found he could work the controls by letting the weight of his hand rest on the buttons. / ³ì¤£»Ý­n·N¿×´N¤À§O¦a¼¹¯}²Ä¤@ newpaper ¨ì, ¦Ó¥B¥²¶·¬°¤F­nŪ¥¦ , ºî¦X¸H¤ù¡C ¦]¬°¥L¦³¡A©Ò¥Hµ{§Ç¬O¥O¤Hµo¨gªº¨ìºCºC¦a,²Ó½oÀu¶®¦a±±¨î¥H§V¤O·n°Êªº¤â¡C ¨Ï¥Î»»»·ªÌ¬O¤ñ¸û®e©öªº--¥Lµo²{¥L¥i¥HÂÇ¥ÑÅý¦b¶s¦©¤Wªº¥L¤â­«¶q¥ð®§¾Þ§@±±¨î¡C
Some time during the fourth broadcast he fell asleep. / ¦b²Ä¥|¼s¼½ªº®É­Ô¼Æ®É¶¡¥LºÎµÛ¤F¡C

-- 3 --
In a scene straight out of a picture postcard, the ocean rolled steadily onto a smooth expanse of snow-white sand, interrupted only by a stand of palm trees and a lone sunbather sprawled beside a green beach umbrella. Fluffy clouds dotted a sky that was a shade of blue usually found only in a developer's laboratory. In the distance, the bright red, orange and white of Ryu's rented sailboat dipped among turquoise waves. The air was filled with the roar of the surf and the cries of seabirds. / ¦b²{³õ¤¤µ§ª½¦a±q¤@±i­·´º©ú«H¤ù¡A¤j®üí©w¦a¦b³·¥Õªº¨F¤l¤@¤ù¥­·Æªº¼eÁï°Ï°ì¤§¤W±², ¥u¦³³Q¤â´xªº¤@­Ó»O¤l¥´Â_¾ð¦Ó¥B©t³æªº sunbather ¦b¤@§âºñ¦âªº®üÅy³Ê®ÇÃäÂX®i¡C ¦³ÂIªº¤òµ³µ³ªº¶³³q±`¬OÂŦ⪺¤@­Ó½®²D³Bªº¤ÑªÅ¥u¦b¶}µoªÌªº¹êÅç«Ç¤¤µo²{¡C ¦b»»»·¤§³B¡A³Q¯²¥Î¦|²îªº Ryu's ªº¤j¬õ¦â¡A¬a¾ï©M¥Õ¦â¦b¤g¦Õ¨ä¥Éªi®ö¤§¤¤®û¡C ªÅ®ð¥Rº¡®ü®öªº§q©M®ü³¾ªº­úÁn¡C
At the sound of a stranger's footsteps approaching, Ken turned lazily over on his stomach and propped himself up on one elbow to see who it was. First he saw a shapely pair of tanned legs, and as he looked up, shading his eyes, he found they belonged to a curvy brunette in a pink string bikini. She was openly looking him over, noting the wide shoulders and the powerful rolls of muscle in his arms and back. When she finished her appraisal, she met his eyes and smiled. "Hi," she said. / ¦b±µªñ ªº­¯¥Í¤Hªº¸}¨BÁn­µ¡AªÖ®¦¦b¥Lªº­G¨­¤WÃi¬v¬v¦aµ²§ôÂà¦V¦Ó¥B¦b¤@­Ó¤â¨y¤W¤ä«ù¥L¦Û¤v¬Ý¨£¥¦¬O½Ö¡C ­º¥ý¥L¬Ý¨£¤@Âù¹³¼Ë¤lªºÅζ»L¡A¦Ó¥B·í¥L¬Ý¦b,¤W­±¯d¤U³±¼v¥Lªº²´·ú,¥Lµo²{¥L­ÌÄÝ©ó¤@®M¯»¬õªº½u¤ñ°ò¥§ªa¸Ëªº¤@­ÓÅs¦±ªº²`¦â¾v½§ªº¤H¡C ¦o¥¿¦b¤½¶}¦aµ²§ô¬Ý¥L¡Aª`·N¥Lªº¤âÁu©M­I­±ªº¼eªÓ©M¦Ù¦×ªº¦³¤O±²ª«¡C ·í¦o§¹¦¨¤F¦oªºµû»ù®É­Ô,¦o¹J¨£¤F¥Lªº²´·ú¦Ó¥B·L¯º¡C "¶Ù",¦o»¡¡C
"Hi," he returned. / "¶Ù",¥LÂkÁÙ¡C
"Hi, I'm back," said a third voice. The brunette jumped and turned startled eyes on Jun, who settled herself on the towel next to Ken's and placed a can of Coke in front of him. The brunette looked from Jun back to Ken. They both regarded her with polite but inquiring expressions. Her expression changed quickly from embarrassment to anger, and she turned on her heel and continued down the beach. / "¶Ù,§Ú¦^¨Ó",¤@ºØ²Ä¤TºØÁn­µ»¡¡C ¸õÅD¦Ó¥BÂ઺²`¦â¾v½§ªº¤H¦b¤»¤ë¾_Åå¤F²´·ú,¦bºò¾FªÖ®¦ªº¤â¤y¤W¦w¹y¦o¦Û¤v¦Ó¥B¦b¥L¤§«e©ñ¸m¤F¥i¼Öªº¤@­ÓÅø¤l¡C ²`¦â¾v½§ªº¤H±q¤»¤ë­I­±¨ìªÖ®¦¬Ý¡C ¥L­Ì­Ç³£¥Î¦³Â§»ªªº¦ý¬O´M°Ýªºªí¹Fµø¬°¦o¡C ¦oªºªí¹F«Ü§Ö¦a±q§xµ~¨ì©Á«ã§ïÅÜ¡A¦Ó¥B¦oªu®üÅy¦V¤U¥´¶}¦oªº¸}«á¸ò¦Ó¥BÄ~Äò¡C
"What was all that about?" Jun asked. / " ¤°»ò¨ì³B¬O©Ò¦³ªº¨º"? ¤»¤ë°Ý¡C
Ken opened his can and took a pull from it. "She just walked up here." / ªÖ®¦¥´¶}¤F¥LªºÅø¤l¦Ó¥B®³¤@±q¥¦©Ô¡C "¦o­è­è¦b³o¸Ì¨«¤W" ¡C
"Not your type, trust me," Jun said drily. "I saw her last night at the bar with three different men." / "¤£¬O§AªºÃþ«¬,«H¿à§Ú",¤»¤ë°®¦a»¡¡C " §Ú¬Q±ß¦b©M¤T¦ì¤£¦Pªº¨k¤H°s§a¬Ý¨£¦o" ¡C
"Hm," said Ken, watching the waves rolling in and hoping she would change the subject. / "Hm", ªÖ®¦»¡, ¬Ýªi®öºu°Ê¦b¦Ó¥B§Æ±æ¦o±N·|§ïÅÜ¥DÃD¡C
Jun was already rummaging in her beach bag and produced a bottle of sunscreen. "Want some of this on your back? You're turning pink." / ¤»¤ë¤w¸g¥¿¦b¦oªº®üÅy¤¤Â½¹M³U¤l¨Ã¥B¥Í²£¤F¤@²~¤Ó¶§ªo¡C "·Q­n¤@¨Ç¦b§Aªº­I³¡¤Wªº³o? §A¥¿¦bÂ௻¬õ¦â¡C"
"Aa." / "Aa".
Jun rubbed the lotion in with long, firm strokes, starting with Ken's back, then moving to his arms and legs, kneading the muscles as she went along. It felt wonderful, and with only a little guilt, Ken let himself enjoy it. / ¤»¤ëÀ¿¤F¥~¥ÎÃĤô¦b¥Ñ©óªøªº, °í©wªºµ§¹º,¥HªÖ®¦ªº­I­±¶}©l, µM«á²¾¨ì¥Lªº¤â©M»L, ´|¦Ù¦×·í¦o¦V«e¥h¡C ¥¦Ä±±o¥O¤HÅå©_¡A¦Ó¥B¥Ñ©ó¥u¦³¤@ÂI¸o¦æ¡AªÖ®¦Åý¥L¦Û¤v¨É¨ü¥¦¡C
All during their training and work together, they had felt a mutual attraction that Ken knew he had to ignore for the sake of the Team. Still, there were the little things; the arm slipped around the shoulders or waist, the times when Jun's hand found its way into his, the tight embrace after a close call; the longing he was so accustomed to shutting down. Jun was all that he wanted in a woman: strong, self-sufficient, smart enough to humble the lot of them, sensitive to another's needs... and willing to love him. Despite Jinpei's childish jokes, the others encouraged the relationship, and hadn't Joe's last words to Jun been something about she and Ken spending their lives together? / ¦b¥L­Ìªº°V½m©M¤u§@´Á¶¡¥þ³¡¤@°_¡A¥L­Ì¤w¸g·PıªÖ®¦»{ÃѤF¥L¥²¶·¬°¤F¤p²Õ¤£²z¸Bªº¬Û¤¬§l¤Þ¡C ¤´µM,¦³¤p¨Æª«; ¤âÁu¦bªÓ©Î¸y³¡¡A¤»¤ëªº¤â¶i¤J¥Lªº¤§¤ºµo²{¥¦ªº¤èªk®É¥Nªº©P³ò·Æ­Ë, ¦b¤@­Ó¤d¶v¤@¾v«áªººò¾Ö©ê; ´÷±æ¥L¹ïÃö³¬¬O¦p¦¹²ßºD¤F¡C ¤»¤ë¬O©Ò¦³ªº¥L¦b¤@­Ó¤k¤H¤¤·Q­n: ±jªº¡M¥i¥H¦Ûµ¹ªº¡M©MÁo©úªº¥R¨¬¶S§í¥L­Ìªº¹B®ð,¨ì¨ä¥L¤Hªº¬O±Ó·Pªº»Ý­n¡C¡C¡C ¦Ó¥B¼Ö·Nªº·R¥L¡C ¤£¦b¥G Jinpei's ªº¤Ñ¯u¯º¸Ü¡A¨ä¾lªÌ¹ªÀy¤FÃö«Y, ©M¹ï¤»¤ëªº³ì³Ì«áªº¦rÁÙ¨S¬OÃö©óªº¬Y¨Æ¦o©M¤@°_ªá¶O¥L­Ìªº¥Í©R ªºªÖ®¦?
Then there was the incident in Paris. Somehow, by accident or design, they had wound up alone together in a place where the atmosphere crackled with romance. Jun had turned to look at him, and the way the lights from the fountain reflected from those soulful green eyes had awakened a powerful, irresistable urge. On impulse he'd kissed her for the first time--a long, personal kiss which, in Joe's terms, "means something." Since then, instead of his usual aloofness, he'd turned shy, almost ticklish with her and she delighted in it. Remembering their first encounter made him blush, and when he turned to her, he saw a serene, knowing smile that told him she remembered as well, and that there was more to come. Maybe, with this peace, they truly could make something of a life together.... / µM«á¦b¤Ú¾¤¦³¨Æ¥ó¡C ¤£ª¾¦ó¬G¡AÂǵ۷N¥~¨Æ¥ó©Î³]­p¡A¥L­Ìµ²§ô©t¿Wªº¤@°_¦b¤j®ð¥H®öº©¥vµo¥X°ÔÁnªº¤@­Ó¦a¤è¤¤¡C ¤»¤ë¤w¸g·Ç³Æ¬Ý¥L¡A¦Ó¥B¨Ó¦Û¬uªº¥ú±q¨º¨Ç¥Rº¡ºë¯«ªººñ¦â²´·ú¤Ï¬Mªº¤è¦¡¤w¸g³ê¿ô¦³¤O,irresistable ©IÆ~¡C ¦b½Ä°Ê¤W¥L²Ä¤@¦¸¦³§k¤F¦o--ªø,¡A¥H³ì¨Ó»¡¡A "·N¿×¬Y¨Æ" ªº­Ó¤H§k. ¦Û±q¨º®É¥H«á¡A¨ú¦Ó¥N¤§ªº¬O¥L¥­±`ªº²¨»·¡A¥L¦³ÅÜ®`²Ûªº, ´X¥G©ö­Ë¥Ñ©ó¦o©M¦o¦b¥¦¸Ì­±´r§Ö¡C °O±o¥L­Ìªº²Ä¤@¦¸¬Û·|¨Ï¥LÁy¬õ¡A¦Ó¥B·í¥L¨D§U©ó¦oªº®É­Ô,¥L¬Ý¨£¹çÀR¡A§i¶D¤F¥L¦o¤]°O±o , ¦Ó¥B¨º¸Ì§ó¦h¨Óªº³Õ¾Ç·L¯º¡C ¤]³\¡AÂǥѳo©M¥­¡A¥L­Ì¯u¹ê¦a¥i¥H¤@°_¥Î¥Í¬¡°µ¦¨¬Y¨Æ....
Between the rhythmic pounding of the ocean, the warmth of the sun and the feel of Jun's hands as they massaged his neck, Ken started to drift off. Jun's voice brought him back. "Feels like you're finally starting to relax." / ¦b¤j®üªº±Û«ßºV¤§¶¡, ¤Ó¶§ªº·Å·x©M¨º¤»¤ëªº¤â·Pı·í¥L­Ì«ö¼¯¤F¥Lªº²ä¤l®É­Ô,ªÖ®¦¶}©l¨«¶}º}¬y¡C ¤»¤ëªºÁn­µ§â¥L±a¦^¨Ó¡C " ·Pı¹³§A¥¿¦b³Ì«á¶}©l©ñÃP".
"If I get any more relaxed," he mumbled into his towel, "I'll melt into the sand." / "¦pªG§ÚÅÜ¥ô¦ó§ó¦h©ñÃP",¥L¶i¤J¥Lªº¤â¤y¤§¤º³ä³ä¦Ó»y ",§Ú±N¶i¤J¨F¤l¤§¤º¿Ä¤Æ".
Doctor Nambu had collected his funds, picked up his charges and taken off for parts unknown. His colleagues at the ISO had nearly gone into cardiac arrest at the news, but the Doctor pointed out that he had gone for three years without a break, and when it came to security, he couldn't imagine who he'd feel safer with than the Kagaku Ninjatai. As it was, few recognized him. Even the Team had trouble picking him out when he wore casual clothes. / Âå¥Í Nambu ¤w¸g¦¬¶°¥Lªº°òª÷,¬°³¡¥÷¬B°_¥Lªº¶O¥Î¦Ó¥B°_­¸¥¼ª¾¼Æ¡C ¥Lªº¦P¨Æ¦b°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´´X¥G¤w¸g¦b·s»D°Q½×¤ßŦªº¶e®·¡A¦ý¬OÂå¥Í«ü¥X¡A¥L¤£»Ý­n¥ð®§´N¤w¸g¥h¹F¤T¦~¤§¤[¡A¦Ó¥B·í¥¦±o¨ì¦w¥þªº®É­Ô,¥L¤£¥i¥H·Q¹³¥L±N·|¹ï Kagaku Ninjatai ·P¨ì¦w¥þ³Ó©ó½Ö¡C ·í¥¦¬Oªº®É­Ô,¤Ö¼Æªº¿ë»{¥X¤F¥L¡C ·í¥L¬ïµÛ¤F°¸µMªº¦çªA®É­Ô¡A¬Æ¦Ü¤p²Õ¦b¬D¿ï¥L¤è­±¦³¤F³Â·Ð¡C
They traveled without obligations, plans or concerns. Someone would come up with a destination, and if they all liked the idea, they made a few phone calls and off they went. Supplies were purchased along the way, and discarded if they became too bulky to carry. They toured all the major cultural centers, learning more about places they had only passed through on missions; filling in the gaps. / ¥L­Ì¤£»Ý­n¸q°È¡A­p¹º©ÎÃö¤ß´N®È¦æ¡C ¬Y¤H±N·|´£¥X¥Øªº¦a¡A¦Ó¥B¦pªG¥L­Ì¥þ³¡³ßÅw·Qªk,¥L­Ì¥´¤F¤@¨Ç¹q¸Ü¡A¦Ó¥B¨«¶}¥L­Ì¥h¡C ¸Éµ¹¦V«e³QÁʶR¤è¦¡, ¦Ó¥B¥á±ó¬O§_¥L­ÌÅܦ¨¤ÓÃe¤j¦ÓµLªkÄâ±a¡C ¥L­Ì®È¦æ¤F©Ò¦³ªº¥D­n¤å¤Æªº¤¤¤ß¡A§ó¦hªº¾Ç°ÝÃö©ó¥L­Ì¥u¦b¥ô°È¤W¦³³q¹Lªº¦a¤è¨Æ; ¦bÁ_»Ø¤¤¶ñ¥R¡C
As the weeks passed, Ken's soul slowly healed, as did the cuts on his hands. His appetite came back, and he filled out again, regaining the weight he had lost after their return from Cross Karakoram. The only rough spot of the tour had been through Spain and Italy, when Joe's memory haunted them in the cities. Ken constantly expected to see him arguing with the men in the pubs, terrorizing the streets on something with wheels, or pointing out items of interest in the markets. Over and over he wished Joe was there to share the peace with them. No doubt the others felt the same way, but no one mentioned it. The subject was unofficially declared taboo. / ·í¼Æ­Ó¬P´Á³q¹Lªº®É­Ô,ªÖ®¦ªºÆF»îºCºC¦aªv¡, ¦p¦P¦b¥Lªº¤â¤W¤Á¡C ¥Lªº­¹¼¤¦^¨Ó¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¦A¤@¦¸¶ñ¼g , ¨ú¦^¥L¦b¨Ó¦Û¥æ¤eªº Karakoram ªº¥L­Ì¦^ªð¤§«á¤w¸g´îªº­«¶q¡C ®È¹Cªº°ß¤@²ÊÁWªº¦aÂI¬O¸g¹L¦è¯Z¤ú©M¸q¤j§Q,·í³ìªº°O¾Ð¦b«°¥«¤¤±`¨ì¥L­Ìªº®É­Ô¡C ªÖ®¦¤£Åܦa´Á±æ¨£¥L¦b°sÀ]¤¤©M¨k¤Hª§½×,¥Î½ü¤l¥O¤H®£©Æ¦b¬Y¨Æ¤Wªºµó¹D, ©Î«ü¥X¹ï¶µ¥Øªº¿³½ì¥«³õ¡C ¤@¦A¦a¥LÄ@¡A³ì¦b¨º¸Ì»P¥L­Ì¤À¨É©M¥­¡C µLºÃ¦a¨ä¾lªÌ·Pı¤F¬Û¦Pªº¤èªk¡A¦ý¬O¨S¦³¤H´£¨ì¤F¥¦¡C ¥DÃD«D¥¿¦¡¦a¬O¤½§iªº¸T§Ò¡C
When their energy wore down they took refuge in the south Pacific, winding down in a small resort on the island of Tonga. And it was here that Ken was finally starting to relax. / ·í¥L­Ìªººë¤O¬ïµÛ¤U¨Óªº®É­Ô¥L­Ì¦û¾Ú¤F¦b¤Ó¥­¬v«n³¡ªºÁ×Ãø©Ò,¦bªF¥[ªº®q¤W¤@­Ó¤pªº´ç°²³Ó¦a¤¤±²Â¶¤U¨Ó¡C ¦Ó¥B¥¦¦b³o¸Ì¨º¤@­ÓªÖ®¦¥¿¦b³Ì«á¶}©l©ñÃP¡C
Somewhere along his digression, Jun had stopped and was now sprawled on her towel beside him. Ken opened one eye, debated getting up, then let that eye rove over the smooth lines of her bare back and the curves of her hips. That made up his mind. "Jun. Want me to return the favor?" he asked. / ¬Y³BªuµÛ¥LªºÂ÷ÃD³¡¤À¡A¤»¤ë¤w¸g°±¤î¦Ó¥B²{¦b¦b¦b¥L®ÇÃ䪺¦o¤â¤y¤W³QÂX®i¡C ³Q¥´¶}¤@­Ó²´·úªºªÖ®¦,ÅG½×°_§É, µM«áÅý¨º¤@­Ó²´·ú¦b¦oªº¨ª»r­I­±ªº¥­·Æ½u©M¦oªºÁv³¡¦±½u¤§¤Wº}ªy©ó¡C ¨º¨M©w¡C "¤»¤ë¡C ·Q­n§ÚÂkÁÙ¦n·N?"¥L°Ý¡C
"If you want to." That meant yes. Ken hauled himself up to a sitting position and picked up the sunscreen. / " ¦pªG§A·Q­n¨ì". ¨º·N¿×¬Oªº¡C ªÖ®¦©ì¤F¥L¦Û¤v¨M©w©ó¤@­Ó®y¦ì¦w±Æ¦ì¸m¨Ã¥B¬B°_¤Ó¶§ªo¡C
He was getting involved in his task when they both heard footsteps pounding toward them and looked up. Jinpei skidded to a stop in front of them, showering them with sand. / ·í¥L­Ì­Ç³£¹ï©ó¥L­ÌÅ¥¨ì¤F¸}¨BºV¦Ó¥B¬Ýªº®É­Ô¡A¥L¥¿¦b°Ñ»P¥Lªº¤u§@¦b¤W­±¡C Jinpei ¦b¥L­Ì¤§«e«b¨®¨ì¤@­Ó°±¤î,¥Î¨F¤l²O¯D¥L­Ì¡C
"Aagh," Jun said. They were now covered with a gritty white layer that the lotion plastered to their skin. Ken spat sand. / "Aagh",¤»¤ë»¡¡C ¥L­Ì¬O§Gº¡§t¨Fªº¥Õ¦â¼h²{¦b¥~¥ÎÃĤôÄê¾K¦pªd¨ì¥L­Ìªº¥Ö½§¡C ªÖ®¦¨©§Z¨F¤l¡C
"You won't believe this." The boy was bouncing, excited. "Have I got something to show you! C'mon!" / " §A±N¤£¬Û«H³o". ¨k«Ä¥¿¦b¤Ï¼u,¨ë¿Eªº¡C " §Ú±o¨ì¬Y¨Æ¤FÅã¥Ü§A! C'mon!"
"It better be good," Jun growled, brushing futilely at the sand. "Or I know someone who's going to be breathing seawater." / " ¥¦³Ì¦n«Ü¦n",¤»¤ë«ã§p,¦b¨F¤lµL¥Î¦a²¨¨ê¡C " ©Î§Ú»{ÃѬY¤H½Ö¥¿¦b¥h©I§l®ü¤ô".
"Oh, it will be. C'mon!" / "®@,¥¦±N¬O¡C C'mon!"
His enthusiasm was infectious. Leaving their belongings behind, Ken and Jun ran behind him, up the beach toward the end of a peninsula that lead to rougher sea. There they stopped. Jun's mouth dropped open. Ken grabbed the binoculars from Jinpei's hand and focused, frowning behind the lenses. / ¥Lªº¨g¼ö¬O¦³¶Ç¬V©Êªº¡C ¦b¹ï©ó³q©¹¸û²ÊÁWªº®ü¬v¥b®qªºµ²§ô®üÅy¤W­±¯d¤U¥L­Ìªº©Ò¦³ª««á­±ªº³¡¤À¡AªÖ®¦©M¤»¤ë¦b¥L«á­±¶]¡C ¦b¨º¸Ì¥L­Ì°±¤î¡C ¤»¤ëªº¼L­°§C¶}©ñªº¡C ªÖ®¦§ì¨ú¤F¨Ó¦Û Jinpei's ªº¤âÂù²´±æ»·Ãè¦Ó¥B¶°¤¤,¦b³zÃè«á­±½K¬ÜÀY¡C
"You're right," he said. "I don't believe it." / " §A¬O¥¿½Tªº",¥L»¡¡C "§Ú¤£¬Û«H¥¦" ¡C
They'd had a hard enough time getting used to seeing Dr. Nambu in anything other than suits and lab smocks. The first shock was that the squarish, businesslike clothing concealed the body of a much younger, fitter man. He was broad-shouldered and stocky, and his build was as tightly packed and powerful as Ken's. Of course he had trained them when they were children, but that seemed so long ago. And now.... / ¥L­Ì¦³¦³¤FÃøªº¥R¨¬®É¶¡²ßºD©ó°£¤F¶D³^©M¹êÅç«Ç¤u§@ªA¤§¥~¦b¥ô¦ó¨Æ¸Ì­±¬Ý Nambu ³Õ¤h¡C ²Ä¤@­ÓÅåÀ~¬O©ëÂÔªº, ¨Æ°È©Êªº¦çªAÁôÂäF«D±`¦~»´ªº, ¤ñ¸û¾A·íªº¨k¤H¨­Åé¡C ¥L¬O¤j½d³òªº- ªÓ­t©M¸G­Dªº, ¦Ó¥B¥Lªº«Ø¥ß¬O·í°µºòºò¦a¥]¸Ë©M¦³¤Oªº¦pªÖ®¦¡C ·í¥L­Ì¬O«Ä¤l, ¦ý¬O¥H«e¦ü¥G¦p¦¹ªøªº®É­Ô¡A·íµM¥L¤w¸g°V½m¥L­Ì¡C ¦Ó¥B²{¦b....
A hundred yards out to sea, the professor was standing on a surfboard, riding high on top of a twelve foot wave and making it look easy. He wore only a pair of bright blue swim trunks. His glasses were gone. His wet hair was slicked back, and the expression on his face was that of an exuberant teenager who lived for the sport. He deftly swung the board in a graceful slalom, keeping his balance long after Ken or Ryu would have wiped out. Defeated, the wave died peacefully. The professor dropped off the board, then surfaced, shaking the water from his hair. Catching sight of his audience, he grinned widely and waved. / ¦b¥~ªº¦Ê½X¨ì®ü¬v¡A±Ð±Â¯¸¦b¤@­Ó½Ä®öªO¤W, ½Ä®ö¦Ó¥B¨Ï¥¦¬Ý®e©öªº¡C ¥L¥u¬ïµÛ¤F¤@Âù©ú«GªºÂŦâ´åªa¾ð·F¡C ¥Lªº²´Ã褣¨£¤F¡C ¥LªºÀãÀY¾v¦V«á¦a³Q¥ú·Æªº¡A¦Ó¥B¦b¥LªºÁy¤Wªí¹F¬O¬°¹B°Ê©~¦íªºÁc­Z«C¤Ö¦~ªº¡C ¥L±Ó±¶¼ô½m¦a·nÂ\¤F¤@­ÓÀu¬üªº»Ùê·Æ³·Áɪº¸³¨Æ·|,¦bªÖ®¦©Î Ryu ·|®ø°£¤§«á¡A«O¦s¥Lªº¥­¿Å´÷±æ¡C À»±Ñ,ªi®ö©M¥­¦a¦º¡C ³Q´î¤Ö¸³¨Æ·|ªº±Ð±Â,µM«á¤É¦Ü¤ô­±,·n°Ê¨Ó¦Û¥LªºÀY¾v¤ô¡C ¿h¨£¥LªºÅ¥²³,¥L¼sªx¦aÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¦Ó¥B´§»R¡C
Weakly, Ken and Jun waved back. / ·L®z¦a¡AªÖ®¦©M¤»¤ë¦V«á¦a´§»R¡C
"I didn't know you could surf," Jinpei said as they all walked back to their beach house. / "§Ú¨S¦³ª¾¹D¡A§A¥i¥Hº©¹C",·í¥L­Ì¥þ³¡¦V«á¦a¨«¸ô¨ì¥L­Ìªº®üÅy©Ð¤lªº®É­Ô¡A Jinpei »¡¡C
"It's been a long time. You don't think I spent my entire life behind a desk, did you?" / "¥¦³Q¬Oªøªº®É¶¡¡C §A¤£»{¬°§Ú´ç¹L¤F¦b¤@±i®Ñ®à«á­±ªº§Ú¾ã­Óªº¥Í¬¡,¬O¶Ü?"
"Actually, yes," Ken said. The Doctor gave him a surprised look, then snorted good-naturedly at the joke. / "¹ê»Ú¤W,¬Oªº",ªÖ®¦»¡¡C Âå¥Íµ¹¤©¤F¥L·P¨ìÅå³Yªº¯«±¡,µM«á¼QµÛ®ð§ËÅT»ó¤l¤F¦n³B-¦b¯º¸Üªº naturedly¡C
"Well, it's been long enough," Jun exclaimed, prodding his bare shoulder with a finger. The pressure left a white mark on skin that was turning crimson. "Look at you! You'll be hurting in a little while." "I already am," Nambu said ruefully. / " ¶â¡A¥¦¬O¤[¨¬°÷",¤»¤ë¤j¥s,¥Î¤@®Ú¤â«üÂW¥Lªº¨ª»rªÓ¡C À£¤O¯d¤U¤F¦b¥¿¦bÂà²`¬õ¦âªº¥Ö½§¤Wªº¤@­Ó¥Õ¦âªº¼Ð»x¡C "¬Ý§A! §A±N¦b¤p¤pªº¤@·|¨à¤è­±¶Ë®`¡C"" §Ú¤w¸g¬O",Nambu ´d¶Ë¦a»¡¡C
Another week passed before they all began thinking of the work that awaited them. There was rebuilding to do, new plans to make. It was time to go home. / ¦b¥L­Ì¥þ³¡¶}©l·Q¨ìµ¥­Ô¤F¥L­Ìªº¤u§@¤§«e , ¦b¥t¤@­Ó¬P´Á³q¹L¡C ¨º¸Ì¥¿¦b¦A«Ø°µ, ·sªº­p¹º­q©w¡C ¥¦¬O¸Ó¦^®aªº®É­Ô¡C
Two days after returning to Utoland, the Team turned in their vehicles and equipment. Ken took one long, last flight in G-1 before docking it into the back of the Godphoenix. Then he spent some time walking about the mother ship, looking and remembering. Ryu had said once that all ships--whether they sail or fly--have souls. Not only had this ship a soul, but had picked up part of those who flew it. The service passages and vehicle compartments echoed with voices and the sounds of combat, and Ken listened for awhile before moving to the cockpit. / ¦b¦^¨ì Utoland ¤G¤Ñ¤§«á¡A¤p²Õ¦b¥L­Ìªº¨®½ø©M»ö¾¹¤¤Âà¦V¡C ªÖ®¦¦b¾p¤J²î¶õ¥¦¶i Godphoenix ªº­I­±¤§¤º¤§«e¦b G-1 ¤¤·f­¼¤@¦¸ªøªº, ³Ì«áªº­¸¦æ¡C µM«á¥L«×¹L¼Æ®É¶¡¨B¦æÃö©ó¥À¿Ë²îªº¨Æ¡A¬Ý©M°O±o¡C Ryu ¤w¸g»¡¤@¦¸©Ò¦³ªº²î--¬O§_¥L­Ì¯è¦æ©Î­¸--¦³ÆF»î¡C ¤£¦ý¦³³o¸Ë²î¹B°e¤@­ÓÆF»î , ¦Ó¥B¤w¸g¬B°_¨º¨Ç­¸¤F¥¦ªº¤H³¡¥÷¡C ªA°È³q¹D©M¨®½ø°Ï¹º¥HÁn­µ©M¾Ô°«ªºÁn­µÀHÁnªþ©M¡A¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦Å¥¬°¤@·|¨à¦b²¾¨ì¾r¾p­û®y¿µ¤§«e¡C
All over the control center were reminders of past missions: the lines Jinpei had etched to mark victories... The frayed surface around the missile control, where countless protective panels had been shattered as fists slammed onto the fire button... The good luck talisman from Ryu's hometown that dangled over the pilot's seat... The dents on the sides of the headrests from where Joe had constantly leaned on the seats.... / ¦b¥þ±±¨î¤¤¤ß¬O¹L¥hªº¥ô°È´£¿ôªº¤H: ½u Jinpei ¤w¸g»k¨è¼Ð¥Ü³Ó§Q¡C¡C¡C ¨º¦b­¸¼u±±¨îªº©P³ò¿i·lªí­±, ·í®±ÀY¦b¤õ¶s¦©¤§¤W²rµMÃö¤Wªº®É­Ô¡A¼Æ¤£ºÉªº«OÅ@»ö¿öªO¤w¸g³Q¥´¸H¡C¡C¡C ¨Ó¦Û Ryu's ªº¹M¤Î­¸¦æ­ûªº®y¦ì¦Q°Êªº®a¶m¦n¹B®ðÅ@¨­²Å¡C¡C¡C ¦b¾aÀY¤§ª«ªºÃä¤W¥W²ª±q³ì¤£Åܦa¤w¸g­Ê¾a®y¦ì­þ¸Ì....
They'd spent three hard years in there; three years of monotonous patrols interspersed with white-knuckle dogfights and near-misses. The Godphoenix had been good to them, kept them safe as best she could, despite the fact that they constantly pushed her past her limits--and sometimes into the wall. / ¥L­Ì¦³«×¹L¤F¤TÃøªº¼Æ¦~¦b¨º¸Ì; ¤T¦~ªº³æ½Õ¨µÅÞ¥H¥Õ¦â- «ü¸`²V¾Ô©M near miss ´²§G¡C Godphoenix ¹ï¥L­Ì¤w¸g¬O¦nªº, «O«ù¤F¥L­Ì«OÀI½c¦p³Ì¦n¦o¥i¥H, ¤£¦b¥G¨Æ¹ê¥L­Ì¤£Åܦa±À°Ê¤F¦oªº¹L¥h¦oªº­­¨î-- ©M¦³®É¶i¤JÀð¾À¤§¤º¡C
Ken sat in his old command seat and turned on the viewscreen. Though the forward view showed little more than the inside of the hangar, he could imagine the white, puffy clouds and the blue sea below. / ªÖ®¦¦b¥LªºÂ«ü¥O¤è­±§¤®y¦ì¦Ó¥B¥´¶} viewscreen ¡C ÁöµM¦V«eªºµø³¥¥X¥Ü¤F¤p©ó­¸¾÷®wªº¤º³¡¡A¦ý¬O¥L¥i¥H¦b¤U­±·Q¹³¥Õ¦âªº, µÈ¤jªº¶³©MÂŦ⪺®ü¬v¡C
Ken folded his hands and bowed his head, and prayed, thanking the fighting ship for her service. From now on, she would sit here in storage, save for the possible honorary flight or two. Perhaps in a few years she'd wind up in the Smithsonian or a special ISO exhibit. Unless the need ever came.... / ªÖ®¦ºPÅ|¤F¥Lªº¤â¦Ó¥BÅs¸y¤F¥LªºÀY, ¦Ó¥B¬èë,ÁÂÁ¾԰«¨ì¦oªºªA°È¹B°e¡C ±q²{¦b¶}©l¡A¦o±N·|¦bÀxÂ䤧¤,¬°¥i¯àªººaÅA­¸¦æ©Î¤G¸`¬Ù¡C ¦b´X¦~¤§¤º¤]³\¦o±N·|¦b Smithsonian ©Î¯S§Oªº°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´®iÄý«~¤¤µ²§ô¡C °£«D»Ý­n´¿¸g¨Ó....
Will we ever fly you again? / §Ú­Ì±N´¿¸g¦A¤@¦¸­¸§A¶Ü?
He left the usual way, leaping from the top bubble to the floor of the hangar. He was startled to find Ryu waiting there. "Saying goodbye?" Ryu asked. His eyes were red and had deep circles under them. / ¥L¯d¤U¤F¥­±`ªº¤èªk,±q³»¦yªºªwªj¨ì­¸¾÷®wªº¦aªO¸õÅD¡C ¥L³Q¾_Ååµo²{¦b¨º¸Ìµ¥­Ô ªº Ryu ¡C " ±Ô­z¦A¨£"? Ryu °Ý¡C ¥Lªº²´·ú¬O¬õ¦âªº¨Ã¥B¦³¤F¦b¥L­Ì¤U­±ªº²`¶ê°é¡C
"Yes. You?" / "¬Oªº¡C §A?"
"Already did, all of last night. It was rough. I'll miss her." / "¤w¸g°µ, ©Ò¦³ªº¬Q±ß¡C ¥¦¬O²ÊÁW¡C §Ú±N·Q©À¦o¡C"
"Aa." Ken switched out of Bird-style, and the two walked together toward the exit. Ken glanced back at the Godphoenix, which loomed over them like a shadow. She looked lonely. Putting a hand on Ryu's shoulder, he turned away and the men left the hangar. / "Aa". ªÖ®¦ÂàÅÜÂ÷³¾-­·®æ, ©M¨º¤G¹ï©ó¥X¤f¤@°_¨«¸ô¡C ªÖ®¦¦V«á¦a¦b Godphoenix ¿h°{, ¦b¥L­Ì¤§¤WÁô¬ù¥i¨£³ßÅw¤@­Ó¼v¹³¡C ¦o¬Ý°_¨Ó©t³æ¡C §â¤@°¦¤â©ñ¦b Ryu's ªºªÓ,¥LÂà¦VÂ÷¶}¡A¦Ó¥B¨k¤HÂ÷¶}¤F­¸¾÷®w¡C
"So what do you plan to do from here?" he asked Ryu. / " ¦p¦¹§A±q¦b³o¸Ì­p¹º°µ¤°»ò"? ¥L°Ý¤F Ryu ¡C
The large man scratched his head. "Cleanup, I guess. My marina was trashed by a tidal wave a few weeks back--the whole bay was. It'll take some months to clean up the mess." / ¤jªº¨k¤HÀ¿¤F¥LªºÀY¡C "²M°£,§Ú²q´ú¡C §Úªº´²¨B¹D³Q¤@­Ó®ü¼S¼Æ­Ó¬P´Á­I­±§ËÃa¤F--¾ã­Óªº®üÆW¬O¡C ¥¦±N±Ä¨ú¼Æ­Ó¤ë²M±½¤@¹Î¶Ã¡C"
"Need some help?" / "»Ý­n¤@¨ÇÀ°¦£"?
"You offering?" / " §A´£¨Ñ"?
Ken shrugged. "Yeah. I don't have anything planned myself." Not with no money and now nothing to fly, he added silently. / ªÖ®¦ÁqªÓ¡C "¬Oªº¡C §Ú¨S¦³­p¹º¤¤ªºªF¦è§Ú¦Û¤v¡C" ¤£¥H¨S¦³¿ú©M²{¦b¨S¨Æ­¸,¥LÀqÀq¦a¼W¥[¡C
"What about Jun and the Snack J?" / "¤»¤ë©M¤p¦Y J «ç»ò¼Ë"?
"They're hiring a contractor to rebuild the place--somebody owed Jun a favor. I'll just be in the way." Ryu wiggled his eyebrows doubtfully. "No, really. Besides, have you heard the latest plans for the bar? I'd be stuck playing referee all the time." / "¥L­Ì¥¿¦b¹µ½Ð¤@­Ó©Ó¥]°Ó¦A«Ø¦a¤è--¬Y¤HÁ«¤í¤F¤»¤ë¦n·N¡C §Ú±N¶È¶È¬O¥H¨º¤è¦¡¡C"Ryu ¥iºÃ¦aÅCÃܤF¥Lªº¬Ü¤ò¡C "¤£,¯uªº¡C ¦¹¥~¡A§A¤£¶ÜÅ¥¨ìÃö©ó°s§aªº³Ì·s­p¹º? §Ú±N·|³Q´ÛÄF©l²×ª±¥òµô¤H¡C"
Ryu grinned. He'd heard Jinpei's 'we'll do karaoke over my dead body' speech more than once, and at top volume. "Well then, yeah." / Ryu ÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C ¥L¦³Å¥¨ì¤F Jinpei's'§Ú­Ì±Nµ´¤£¥i¥H°µ¥d©Ô OK' ºtÁ¿¶W¹L¤@¦¸, ©M¦b³»¦yªºÅé¿n¡C "µM«á´é¥X,¬Oªº".
The Team gathered in the Doctor's office to return their bracelets and to hear the terms of their retirement. Each member would receive a monthly check of more than they had made when they were active ("The paperwork for raises finally got through," said Nambu drily) and full medical, care of the ISO. There was still a test pilot spot open for Ken if he wanted it, as soon as the ISO finished rebuilding and went back into full operation. Ken was looking forward to that. Now if he could only hang in there until he could afford to replace his plane.... / ¤p²Õ¦bÂå¥Íªº¿ì¤½«Ç¤¤»E¶°ÂkÁÙ¥L­Ìªº¤âÅN¨Ã¥BÅ¥¨ì¥L­Ìªº°h¥ð³N»y¡C ¨C­Ó¦¨­û±N·|±µ¨ü¨C¤ëªºÀˬd¶W¹L·í¥L­Ì¬O¿n·¥ªº ("Á|°_ªº¤å®Ñ¤u§@³Ì«á³q¹L ",°®¦a»¡¤F Nambu) ©M§¹¾ãªºÂå¥Í¡A°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ªº·Ó®Æ®É­Ô¡A¥L­Ì¤w¸g°µ¡C ¦pªG¥L·Q­n¥¦,¹³³Q¦A«Ø§¹¨Ã¥B¶i¤J§¹¥þªº¤â³N¤§¤º¦^¥hªº°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¤@¼Ëªº«Ü§Ö¡A¬°ªÖ®¦¤´µM¦³´ú¸Õ­¸¦æ­û¦aÂI¤½¶}¡C ªÖ®¦¥¿¦b´Á±æ¨º¡C ²{¦b¦pªG¥L¥u¥i¥HÄa±¾¦b¨º¸Ìª½¨ì¥L¥i¥H­t¾á´À´«¥Lªº­¸¾÷....
Four white bands with very worn straps lay on Nambu's desk. For a long moment the four members of the Kagaku Ninjatai stared down at them, unbelieving. It was really over. / ©M«D±`¿i·lªºÃ·¥|±ø¥Õ¦âªº¼Ö¹Î¦b Nambu's ªº®Ñ®à¤W©ñ¸m¡C Kagaku Ninjatai ªº¥|­Ó¦¨­û¦b¥L­Ìª`µø¤U¨Óªøªº¤ù¨è,¨S«H¤ßªº¡C ¥¦¯uªºµ²§ô¡C
"Gokuroo," said Nambu. A standard Japanese phrase used when a person's duty had been fulfilled, he'd said it at the end of each successful mission, but this time it sounded like the toll of a funeral bell. / "Gokuroo",Nambu »¡¡C ·í¤Hªº³d¥ô¤w¸g³Q¹ê²{ªº®É­Ô¡A¤@­Ó¼Ð·Çªº¤é¥»¤ù»y¨Ï¥Î, ¥L¦³»¡¥¦¦b¨C­Ó¦¨¥\ªº¥ô°Èµ²§ôªº®É­Ô¡A¦ý¬O³o¦¸¥¦Å¥°_¨Ó¹³¸®Â§¹aªº³q¦æ¶O¤@¼Ë¡C
The four stared at each other, looking lost, then Jun burst into tears. Ken held her until they subsided. "I'm sorry," she sniffed. "I can't help but think our little family is breaking up." / ¨º¥|¨nµÛ©¼¦¹¬Ý,¬Ý°_¨Ó¥¢¥h,µM«á¤»¤ë¬ðµM¤j­ú¡C ª½¨ì¥L­Ì¥­®§¡AªÖ®¦®»¦í¤F¦o¡C "¹ï¤£°_",¦o¶å¡C "§ÚµLªk¤£»{¬°¡A§Ú­Ìªº¤p®a®x¥Ë¸Ñ " ¡C
"Not at all," Ken said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "We all live close enough to each other. And there's always the phone. You'll see." / "¨M¤£" ¡AªÖ®¦»¡,µ¹¦oªºªÓÀ½À£¡C "§Ú­Ì¥þ³¡¹ï©¼¦¹©~¦í±µªñªº¥R¨¬¡C ¦Ó¥BÁ`¬O¦³¹q¸Ü¡C §A±N¬Ý¨£¡C"
Then they piled together in a five-way hug that included the startled professor. When they finally broke the clinch, they closed the meeting and their jobs, Japanese style, with a shout and a single clap of their hands. / µM«á¥L­Ì¦b¤@­Ó¤­¤èªkªº¥]¬A¤F³Q¾_Å媺±Ð±Â¾Ö©ê¤¤¤@°_°ï°_¡C ·í¥L­Ì³Ì«áÂ_±¼¤F°v¨cªº®É­Ô,¥L­ÌÃö³¬¤F·|ij©M¥L­Ìªº¤u§@¡A¤é¥»­·®æ,ÂǥѥL­Ìªº¤â¤@Án©I³Û©M³æ¤@©ç¤â¡C
Dr. Nambu watched his wards turn to leave. They moved hesitantly and looked subdued, almost terrified at the idea of lives as civilians. His little ninja squad who charged eagerly into battle--who had trained for it since they were old enough to wield weapons--now hung onto their weapons for security. But then, he thought with a pang of guilt, that was all he'd been able to give them. / Nambu ³Õ¤h¬Ý¤F¥Lªº¦u½Ã±ÛÂàÂ÷¶}¡C ¥L­Ì¿ðºÃ¦a²¾°Ê¦Ó¥B¬Ý°_¨Ó§í¨î, ´X¥G¦b¥Í©Rªº·QªkÅåÀ~¦p¥­¥Á¡C ¥Lªº¤p¾Õªø¤é¥»ªZ¤hÁô¨­³Nªº¤p¶¤½Ö¶i¤J¾Ôª§¤§¤º¼ö¤ß¦a«ü±±-- ½Ö¤w¸g¬°¥¦°V½m¦Û±q¥L­Ì°÷¦Ñ¨Ó¨Ï¥ÎªZ¾¹¤§«á--²{¦b¬°¦w¥þÄ~Äò«O¯d¥L­ÌªºªZ¾¹¡C ¦ý¬OµM«á¡A¥L¥H¸o¦æªº¤@°}¼@µh·Q, ¨º¬O¥þ³¡¥L¦³¯à°÷µ¹¥L­Ì¡C
The time they had spent traveling together had been remarkable to Nambu. For the past four years, he'd seen little more of the Team than five tense faces in the briefing room. During the trip he'd seen the little quirks; the marks of maturity and the way their personalities interacted. They mourned the loss of their families, but the relationship they had put together was stronger than most family bonds. / ·í¥L­Ì¤w¸gªá¶O¤@°_®È¦æªº®É­Ô¤w¸g¬O¥O¤Hª`¥Øªº¨ì Nambu¡C ¹L¥h¥|¦~¡A¥L¤w¸g¦b²³ø©Ð¶¡¤¤¶W¹L¤­­Óºò±iªºÁy¬Ý¨ì¤pªº¤p²Õ§ó¦h¡C ¦b®È¦æªº®É­Ô¥L¤w¸g¬Ý¨ì¤p©_¨Æ; ¦¨¼ôªº¼Ð»x©M¤èªk¥L­Ìªº­Ó©Ê¤¬¬Û¼vÅT¡C ¥L­Ì«s±¥¤F¥L­Ìªº®a®x·l¥¢, ¦ý¬OÃö«Y¥L­Ì¤w¸g¶°¦X¬O¤ñ¤j¦h¼Æ±j§§ªº®a®x§ô¿£¡C
It was too bad there were only four of them now. Nambu wondered how Joe would have reacted to the victory. What would he have been like, with the weight of his vendetta off his shoulders? / ¥¦¤ÓÃa²{¦b¥u¦³¥L­Ì¤¤ªº¥|­Ó¡C Nambu ÃhºÃ¤F³ì¦p¦ó·|¹ï³Ó§Q²£¥Í¤ÏÀ³¡C ¤°»ò¥L±N·|¤w¸g¬O¬Û¦üªº¶Ü, ÂǥѥLªº¤³±þ­«¶q¦b¥LªºªÓ¥~?
Nambu snapped out of his reverie just as the Team reached the door. He called out to them. "Wait. There is one more thing." He gestured. "Come with me." / ¥¿¦p¤p²Õ¨ì¹F¤Fªù¡A Nambu «rÂ_Â÷¥LªºªÅ·Q¡C ¥L¹ï¥L­Ì¤j¥s¡C "µ¥­Ô¡C ¦³¥t¥~¤@­Ó¨Æª«¡C"¥L§@¤â¶Õ¡C "©M§Ú¨Ó" ¡C
With quick glances at one another, they followed. / Âǥѧ֪º¤@¿h¦b©¼¦¹¡A¥L­Ì¸òÀH¡C
The Doctor led his wards down the hall to the block where spare weapons and equipment were usually stored. The room they entered was the size of a medium-sized aircraft hangar, and was almost empty. Four vehicles were parked in the center. / Âå¥Í§â¥Lªº¦u½Ã¤Þ¾É¤U¨Ó¹ï³Ñ¾lªZ¾¹©M»ö¾¹³q±`³QÀx¦sªº°Ï¬qªùÆU¡C ©Ð¶¡¥L­Ì¶i¤J¬O¤¤«¬ªº­¸¾÷­¸¾÷®wªº¤j¤p, ¦Ó¥B´X¥GªÅ¡C ¥|½ø¨®½ø³Q°±©ñ¦b¤¤¤ß¤¤¡C
"These are gifts from the staff of the complex. I finagled the funds and the staff made the selections. I hope they suit you." The Doctor smiled. The funds had been "finagled" out of his own pocket, and would put him in debt for years to come, but they didn't need to know that. "You didn't think we'd leave you stranded, did you?" / "³o¨Ç¬O¨Ó¦Û¦X¦¨ª«ªºÂ¾­û§ª«¡C §Ú´ÛÄF¤F°òª÷¡A¦Ó¥B¾­û§@¥X¤F¿ï¾Ü¡C §Ú§Æ±æ¥L­Ì¾A¦X§A¡C"Âå¥Í·L¯º¡C °òª÷¤w¸g³Q´ÛÄFÂ÷¥L¦Û¤vªº¤f³U, ¦Ó¥B±N·|§â¥L¸m©ó¶Å°Èªø¹F¼Æ¦~¤§¤[¨Ó, ¦ý¬O¥L­Ì¨S¦³»Ý­nª¾¹D¨º¡C "§A¨S¦³»{¬°§Ú­Ì±N·|¯d¤U§A³QÀÁ²L,¬O¶Ü"?
There were two planes, a car and a motorcycle. The bright yellow Cessna 185 went to Ryu. The car, a white sports convertible, was Jun's. The motorcycle was Jinpei's. And then there was the plane meant for Ken: a single-passenger aerobatic plane, candy-apple red. / ¦³¤G­Ó­¸¾÷¡A¤@½ø¨T¨®©M¤@½ø¼¯¦«¨®¡C ©ú«Gªº¶À¦â Cessna 185 ¥h Ryu ¡C ¨T¨®¡A¥Õ¦âªº¹B°Ê¥iÅÜ´«¤§ª«,¬O¤»¤ëªº¡C ¼¯¦«¨®¬O Jinpei's ªº¡C µM«á¦³³Q¬°ªÖ®¦·N¿×ªº­¸¾÷: ¤@­Ó³æ¤@­¼«È aerobatic ­¸¾÷,¿}-Ä«ªG¬õ¦â¡C
With a loud whoop, Ken led the way into the hangar, circled his new acquisition once, then climbed up, pulled back the canopy and hopped into the pilot's seat. The craft had that coveted new plane smell, and a closer look showed some extra equipment had been installed. He flipped switches and inspected the controls carefully, unable to suppress a very wide grin. He couldn't wait to try it out. / ÂǥѤ@Án¤jÁnªº¤j¥s¡AªÖ®¦¤Þ¾É¤è¦¡¶i­¸¾÷®w¥]³ò¥Lªº·s¨ú±o³Q¥]³ò¥Lªº·s¨ú±o´¿¸gµM«áª¦¤W,¶i¤J­¸¦æ­ûªº®y¦ì¤§¤º¦V«á¦a©Ô¤ÑÁO¦Ó¥B³æ¸}¸õ¡C ­¸¾÷¦³¨º¦k·Q¤F·sªº¥­¨ý¹D,¦Ó¥B¸û¾aªñªº¯«±¡Åã¥Ü¤F¤@¨ÇÃB¥~ªº»ö¾¹¤w¸g³Q¦w¸Ë¡C ¥L¤p¤ß¦a¥Î«üÀY¼u¤F¶}Ãö¦Ó¥BÀˬd¤F±±¨î, ¤£¯àÂíÀ£«D±`¼eªºÅS¾¦¯º¡C ¥Lµ¥¤£¤Î­n¸Õ¥X¥¦¡C
The others were laughing and exclaiming over their new toys. "Oh this thing is gorgeous," Jun breathed. "How did you manage?" / ¨ä¾lªÌ¥¿¦b¥L­Ìªº·sª±¨ã¤§¤W¯º©M¤j¥s¡C " ®@³o¤@¥ó¨Æª«¬OµØÄRªº",¤»¤ë©I§l¡C "§A¦p¦ó³B²z"?
"A bike!" Jinpei crowed. "This is great! I can get away with this better than a car!" Racing back to the Doctor, the boy hugged him again, then ran back to the motorcycle. / "¤@½ø¸}½ñ¨®"! Jinpei ³Ú¥s¡C "³o¬O¤j®v! §Ú¯à¥H¤ñ¤@½ø¨T¨®¦nªº³o¤H°kÂ÷!"¦V«á¦a¹ïÂå¥ÍÁɶ],¨k«Ä¦A¤@¦¸¾Ö©ê¤F¥L,µM«á¦V«á¦a¶]¨ì¼¯¦«¨®¡C
"She's not the Godphoenix," Ryu was saying as he ran a gentle hand over the body of his new Skywagon. "But I think I can handle this. Na, Ken?" / "¦o¤£¬O Godphoenix",·í¥LÁÓ¹L¤@°¦·Å©Mªº¤â¥L·s Skywagon ªº¨­Åé®É­Ô¡A Ryu ¥¿¦b»¡¡C "¦ý¬O§Ú»{¬°§Ú¯à³B²z³o¡C Na?ªÖ®¦"
There was no answer. Puzzled, they looked around and found no sign of him. "Oi, KEN!" Ryu bellowed. / ¨S¦³µª®×¡C §x´b,¥L­Ì¥|³B¬Ý¬Ý¦Ó¥B¨Sµo²{¥Lªº¸ñ¶H¡C "Oi,ªÖ®¦"! Ryu «ã§q¡C
"Huh?" A head popped up from within the cockpit of the red plane and a preoccupied Ken blinked down at him. "What?" Ryu roared with laughter and the others joined in. / "­ó!"? ¤@­ÓÀY¦b¥L±q¬õ¦âªº­¸¾÷©M¤@³Q¥ý¥eªºªÖ®¦¾r¾p­û®y¿µ¤§¤º¥X²{¯w²´¤U¨Ó¡C "¤°»ò"? Ryu ¥H¯º©M¨ä¾lªÌ§q¥[¤J¡C
From his spot beside the door, Dr. Nambu watched them with a smile on his face. This kind of sendoff was much better. / ±q¦bªù®ÇÃ䪺¥L¦aÂI¡A Nambu ³Õ¤h¥Î¦b¥LªºÁy¤W¤@­Ó·L¯º¬Ý¥L­Ì¡C ³oºØ sendoff §ó¦n¡C
A few hours later, Ken followed Ryu to the small airstrip twenty five miles from his marina. It was nearly dark when they arrived, but Ken could see the bay was indeed a mess, and there wasn't much left of Ryu's business. Only half of his little boathouse was standing, and all his belongings were gone. / ¤@¨Ç¤p®É¤§«á¡AªÖ®¦¦b¶ZÂ÷¥Lªº´²¨B¹D¤G¤Q¤­­ù³B¸òÀH¹ï¤pªº­¸¾÷¶]¹Dªº Ryu ¡C ·í¥L­Ì¨ì¹Fªº®É­Ô¡A¥¦´X¥G¶Â·t¡A¦ý¬OªÖ®¦¥i¥Hªº½T¬Ý¨£®üÆW¬O¤@¹Î¶Ã,¦Ó¥B Ryu's ªº¥Í·N³Ñ¤U¤£¦h¡C ¥u¦³¤@¥bªº¥L¤p²î®w¯¸µÛ¡A¦Ó¥B¥L©Ò¦³ªº©Ò¦³ª«¤£¨£¤F¡C
"Who could that be?" Ken asked, pointing to a large travel trailer parked in the middle of the wreckage. There were lights burning inside. / " ½Ö¥i¥H¬O"? ªÖ®¦°Ý,«ü¦V¤@­Ó¤jªº®È¦æ°lÂܪ̦b´Ý¾lªº¤¤¥¡¤¤°±¨®¡C ¦³¸Ì­±ªº¿U¿N ªº¥ú¡C
"Dunno what's going on, but I'll find out." Ryu growled. He shoved the door open and climbed out of the taxi, leaving Ken to pay the fare. He walked up to the door and pounded it with his fist, making the entire trailer shake. As Ken caught up, he heard footsteps creaking inside, then the door was flung open wide. / "¤£ª¾¹D¥¿¦bÄ~ÄòªºªF¦è¡A¦ý¬O§Ú±Nµo²{" ¡C Ryu «ã§p¡C ¥L±ÀÀ½¤Fªù¤½¶}¨Ã¥B«æ¦£¦a²æ¤U­pµ{¨®, ¯d¤UªÖ®¦¤ä¥I¶O¥Î¡C ¥L¨«¤W¨ìªù¦Ó¥B¥Î¥Lªº®±ÀY±j¯P¥´À»¥¦,§@¾ã­Óªº°lÂܪ̷n°Ê¡C ·íªÖ®¦°l»°ªº®É­Ô,¥LÅ¥¨ì¤F§@ÁÓªîÁn¤º³¡ ªº¸}¨B, µM«áªù³Q§ë¶}©ñªº¼e¡C
"Ryu! Where on Earth have you been?" / "Ryu! ¦b­þ¸Ì¦b¦a²y¤W§A¬O?"
"Toochan!" / "Toochan"!
Father and son collided, pounding each other on the back in a bearhug that looked painful to Ken. "I got your letter, and I figured I'd come and help." / ¤÷¿Ë©M¨à¤l¸I¼²,¹ïªÖ®¦¬Ý°_¨Óµh­Wªº bearhug ªº¦b­I­±¤WªººV©¼¦¹¡C "§Ú¦¬¨ì¤F§Aªº«H¡A¦Ó¥B§Úºtºâ§Ú¤w¸g¨Ó¦Ó¥BÀ°§U" ¡C
"But what about your business?" Ryu asked. / "¦ý¬O§Aªº¥Í·N«ç»ò¼Ë"? Ryu °Ý¡C
"The boys can handle it. One good thing about those earthquakes was they dredged up a lot of fish. We'll be way in the black this season." Then he noticed Ken. "Your friend--Ken, is it? He'll be staying with you?" / "¨k«Ä¯à³B²z¥¦¡C Ãö©ó¨º¨Ç¦a¾_ªº¦n¨Æª«¬O¥L­Ì¦b³\¦h³½¤W­±¥Î«õªd¾÷²¨¯C¡C §Ú­Ì±N³o©u¸`¬O¶Â¦âªº¤èªk¡C"µM«á¥Lª`·N¤FªÖ®¦¡C "§AªºªB¤Í--ªÖ®¦,¬O¶Ü ? ¥L±N¦b§A®a³r¯d?"
"Hi, Mr. Nakanishi," Ken said sheepishly, feeling very in the way. / "¶Ù¡A Nakanishi ¥ý¥Í",ªÖ®¦²Û©Ä¦a»¡,«D±`¥H¨º¤è¦¡·Pı¡C
Ryu's father reached over and slapped a friendly hand on his back. "Hey, there's plenty of room." He indicated the trailer. "Not much of these left to rent, so I couldn't be choosy. But boy, is it nice. You'd almost expect a swimming pool! C'mon. Let's get you settled in." He ushered the young men inside. / Ryu's ªº¤÷¿Ë¦ù¹L¤â¥h¦Ó¥B©çÀ»¤F¦b¥Lªº­I³¡¤Wªº¤@°¦¤Í¦nªº¤â¡C "¶Ù,¦³³\¦h©Ð¶¡". ¥L«ü¥X¤F°lÂܪ̡C " ¤£¬O³Q¯d¤U¯²¥Îªº³\¦h³o¨Ç,¦]¦¹§Ú¤£¥i¯à¬O·V­«¿ï¾Üªº¡C ¦ý¬O¨k«Ä, ¬O¥¦¬ü¦nªº¡C §A±N·|´X¥G´Á«Ý¤@­Ó´åªa¦À! C'mon¡C Åý§Ú­ÌÅý§A³Q¦w¹y¦b¡C"¥L¤Þ¾É¤F¸Ì­±ªº¦~»´¨k¤H¡C
The next two months were spent out in the sun and wind, reconstructing the piers, hammering the boathouse together and hauling garbage off the beaches. Those residents whose homes had survived the onslaught pitched in and helped. Ken was surprised at Ryu's skill with woodworking--yet another of his teammates' talents that he had known nothing about. The days were pleasant, the winter weather surprisingly mild, and it only snowed twice. The nights left them too tired to do much other than eat and sleep, though Ken did find the time to occasionally lock himself into one of the tiny rooms with the phone. / ¥¼¨Óªº¤G­Ó¤ë¦b¤Ó¶§¤U³Qªá¶O¥X©M­·,­««Ø½XÀY¡A¤@°_Âñ¥´²î®w©M¦b®üÅy¥~©ì©U§£¡C ¨º¨Ç¤w¸g¥­¦w´ç¹L³Q¶}©l§V¤O¤u§@¦Ó¥BÀ°§Uªº¬ðÀ»©~¥Á¡C ªÖ®¦¥H¤ì¤uÃÀ¦b Ryu's ªº§Þ³N·P¨ìÅå³Y-- ¤´µM¥t¥~¤@¥Lªº¶¤¤Í¤~¯à¥L¦³ª¾¹DÃö©óªº¨S¨Æ¡C ¼Æ¤Ñ¬O´r§Öªº, ¥O¤HÅå³Y·Å©Mªº¥V¤Ñ¤Ñ®ð,¦Ó¥B¥¦¥u¤U³·¤ô©ó¨â¦¸¡C ©]±ß¯d¤U¤F¥L­Ì¤Ó¯h²Ö¦ÓµLªk°µ¦h¥t¥~¦a¶W¹L¦Y¦Ó¥BºÎı,ÁöµMªÖ®¦½T¹êµo²{®É­Ô¦³®É­Ô¶i¤J©M¹q¸Üªº·¥¤p©Ð¶¡¤§¤@¤§¤ºÂê¥L¦Û¤v¡C
Just as the January winds turned harsh, the marina was finished--smelling of new wood and fresh paint--and the customers were already coming in to store their boats for the season. Ken said his farewells, paid the storage fee on his plane, and headed for home. / ¥¿¦p¤@¤ë­·ÅܲÊÁWªº,´²¨B¹D³Q§¹¦¨--·sªº¤ì§÷©M·sÂAªºªoº£»D--¦Ó¥B®ø¶OªÌ¤w¸g¥¿¦b¶i¨Ó¬°©u¸`Àx¦s¥L­Ìªº²î¡C ªÖ®¦»¡¤F¥LªºÃã§O¡M¤ä¥I¤F¦b¥Lªº­¸¾÷¤WªºÀxÂöO¥Î¡M¦Ó¥B¥h®a¡C


Weight work, isotonics, katas, aerobics and endurance work running up and down the mountains of the island that housed Dr. Rafael's complex--it all became Joe's routine, twice a day. Exercise had long been part of the Team's existence, as keeping fit was essential to their survival. The daily routine was comforting as well, since it was one of the few constants in their lives. No doubt Ken and the others were still working out, trying to get accustomed to peace and not willing to give up the level of fitness so hard won. / ­«¶q¤u§@,µ¥º¯ªº,katas, ¦n®ñ©Êªº¦Ó¥B§Ô­@¤W¤U¦a¤u§@¶]¦¬®e¤F Rafael's ³Õ¤h¦X¦¨ª«ªº®q¤s--¤@¤Ñ¨â¦¸¥¦¥þ³¡Åܦ¨³ìªº¨Ò¦æ¤½¨Æ¡C ¬O¤p²Õªº¦s¦b³¡¥÷ªº¤[³Q¦³ªº½m²ß,·í°µ«O¦s¾A©y¹ï¥L­Ìªº¥Í¦s¬O«Ü­«­nªº¡C ¨C¤éªº¨Ò¦æ¤½¨Æ¥¿¦b¤]¦w¼¢,¦]¬°¥¦¬O¥L­Ìªº¥Í©R«Ü¤Öªº±`¼Æ¤§¤@¡C µLºÃ¦aªÖ®¦©M¨ä¾lªÌ¤´µM¥¿¦b¸Õºâ , ¹Á¸Õ¹ï©M¥­ÅܲߺD¤F©M¤£¬O¼Ö·N³o»ò©ñ±ó°·¨­ªºµ{«×ÃøªºÁú¹ô¡C
Joe found himself struggling for it again, with a difficulty he had never experienced before--not even when he was first training for Dr. Nambu. The therapy he underwent was more than pain, more than struggling to find and extend his limits: it was patience. Trying not to lose his temper while dealing with a condition as unique and frustrating as adjusting to a new and unfamiliar body. / ³ìµo²{¥L¦Û¤v¦A¤@¦¸¬°¥¦¾Ä°«,ÂǥѥL¥H«e±q¤£¦³¸g¾úªº¤@ºØ§xÃø--¤£§Y¨Ï·í¥L¥¿¦b­º¥ý¬° Nambu ³Õ¤h±Ð¨|¡C ¥L¾ú¸gªºªvÀø¤£¥u¬Oµh­W,¶W¹L¾Ä°«µo²{¨Ã¥B©µ¦ù¥Lªº­­¨î: ¥¦¬O­@©Ê¡C ·í½Õ¾ã¨ì¤@­Ó·sªº©M¤£¼ô±xªº¨­Åé®É­Ô¡A·í³B²z¤@ºØ±¡ªp¦p¿W¯Sªº¦Ó¥B®À±Ñªº®É­Ô¡A¹Á¸Õ¤£­nµoµÊ®ð¡C
There were new functions he had to learn to control, such as changing the density of his armor, regulating respiratory and circulatory functions and activating special blood filters that in the future could make him almost immune to blood toxins or poison gas. It was awkward at first, as if he'd been given two extra arms to coordinate and control, but after a few weeks of intense practice, the functions became second nature. / ¦³¥L¥²¶·¾Ç²ß±±¨îªº·s¥\¯à,¹³¬O§ïÅÜ¥Lªº²¯¥Ò±K«×¡AºÞ²z©I§l¾¹©xªº©M´`Àôªº¥\¯à¦Ó¥B±Ò°Ê¯S§Oªº¦å¥¼¨Ó¥i¥H¨Ï¥L´X¥G§K¬Ì¨ì¦å¬r¯À©Î¬rÃĥ˴µªº¹LÂo¾¹¡C ¥¦°_¥ý¬O²Â©åªº,¦n¹³¥L¤w¸g³Qµ¹¤GÃB¥~¤§ª«¤âÁu¨ó½Õ¦Ó¥B±±¨î¡A¦ý¬O¦b¼Æ­Ó¬P´Áªº±j¯P½m²ß¤§«á¡A¥\¯àÅܦ¨²Ä¤Gªº¦ÛµM¡C
He had more difficulty controlling the boosters. Before he had worked to be stronger, faster, more accurate. But now the astonishing speed and strength the implants gave him confused his senses and destroyed his accuracy. In the beginning Joe blundered through everyday tasks that a child could do. Things shattered, crumpled or shredded in his hands. A feat as simple as catching a rubber ball was maddening, as he watched his fingers close over empty air, seconds before the ball reached his hand. Sometimes the frustration was too much for him to keep contained, but Dr. Rafael oversaw the repairs of the complex without complaint. Joe suspected that the doctor was proud of the destructive power of his creation. / ¥L¦³¤F±±¨î«á±Àªº¤H §ó¦hªº§xÃø¡C ¦b¥L¤w¸g¤u§@¬O¤ñ¸û±j§§ªº¡M¤ñ¸û§Ö³tªº¡M©M§ó¥¿½Tªº¤§«e¡C ¦ý¬O²{¦b¥iÅ岧ªº³t«×©M¤O¶q´Ó¤J¾¹µ¹¤©¥L²V¶Ã¥Lªº·Pı¦Ó¥B¯}Ãa¤F¥Lªº·Ç½T©Ê¡C ³Ìªì³ì¥¢µ¦¹L¨C¤Ñªº¤u§@¤@­Ó«Ä¤l¥i¥H°µ¡C ¨Æª«¦b¥Lªº¤â¤¤¥´¸H, §Ë½K©Î¼¹¦¨¸H¤ù¡C ¤@­Ó§§Á|¦p²³æªº¦P¼Ë¦a®·®»¤@­Ó¾ó¥Ö²y¬O¥O¤Hµo¨gªº,¦p¦P¦b²y¨ì¹F¤F¥Lªº¤â¬í¤§«e¥L¦bªÅªºªÅ®ð¤§¤W¬Ý¥Lªº¤â«ü±µªñªº¤@¼Ë¡C ¦³®É®À§é¬O¤Ó«Ü¦hªº¥L¦ÓµLªk«O¦s¥]§t¡A¦ý¬O Rafael ³Õ¤hºÊ·þ¤F¨S¦³©ê«èªº¦X¦¨ª«ªº­×²z¡C ³ì²q·Q¤FÂå¥Í¥H¥Lªº³Ð³y·´·À©Êªº¤O¶q¬°¶Æ¡C
Now he worked on the bench press, trying for fifteen reps at his old working weight. With the cybernetics Joe could lift the entire machine one-handed, but he was trying to push himself to the limit of his natural endurance. He wanted to see how far he could go before the cybernetics sensed the strain and kicked in. He also wanted to get the feel of how the boost kicked in, so he could avoid it if necessary. Above all, he wanted complete familiarity and control. It was the only way to alleviate his fear; the fear he had felt ever since his vision had first started to blur and his hands cease to respond in those months before his death. / ²{¦b¥L³B²zªø´È¤l¥Zª«,¦b¥LªºÂ¤u§@­«¶q¬°¤Q¤­ reps ¹Á¸Õ¡C »P´«±±¾Ç³ì¦b¤@°_¥i¥H½Õ°ª¨º¾ã­Óªº¾÷¾¹¤@¶Ç»¼ªº,¦ý¬O¥L¥¿¦b¹Á¸Õ¹G­¢¥L¦Û¤v¨ì¥Lªº¦ÛµM§Ô­@ªº­­¨î¡C ¦b´«±±¾Ç·Pı¤Fºò±i¦Ó¥B½ð¤§«e , ¥L·Q­n¬Ý¨£¥L¥i¥H¥h¦h»·¦b¡C ¥L¤]·Q­n±o¨ì¨º·Pı±À¶i¦p¦ó½ð¦b,¦]¦¹¥L¦pªG¦³»Ý­nªº¸Ü·|ÁקK¥¦¡C ³Ì­«­nªÌ¡A¥L·Q­n§¹¥þªº¿Ë±K©M±±¨î¡C ¥¦¬O°ß¤@ªº¤èªk´î»´¥Lªº®£Äß; ¥L¥Ñ¤w¸g·Pı¥Lªºµø³¥¦Ü¤µªº®£Äß­º¥ý¤w¸g¶}©l¼Ò½k¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¤â¦b¨º¨Ç¼Æ­Ó¤ë¤º¦b¥Lªº¦º¤`¤§«e°±¤î¦^À³¡C
He was straining hard on the last rep, gritting his teeth, when he felt the now-familiar snap, then all effort vanished. Joe let the weight down, then sat up, ending the session. The muscles in his chest ached, the familiar burn a good sign. His hair and clothes were soaked with sweat--the new armor was porous and acted just like skin. The only differences were that he'd learned to control its density, and that his sense of touch was still a little dull--as if he was wearing an indestructible shell that he couldn't take off. The feeling was more of confinement than comfort, but he was slowly getting used to it. / ¥L¥¿¦b³Ì«á rep ¤W§V¤O¦a³Ò²Ö,ÂÐ¥H¬âÄt¥Lªº¤ú¾¦, ·í¥L·Pıªº®É­Ô¨º²{¦b-¼ô±xªº¤jÁn¥w½|,µM«á©Ò¦³ªº§V¤O®ø¥¢¡C ³ìÅý­«¶q¥¢±æ, µM«á¼õ©],µ²§ô·|ij¡C ¥Lªº³Qµh¯Ý¦Ù¦×, ¼ô±xªº¿N¶Ë¤@­Ó¦n²Å¸¹¡C ¥LªºÀY¾v©M¦çªA¬O¥H¦½®ûÀã--·sªº²¯¥Ò¬O¦h¤Õªº¨Ã¥Bªí²{¤F¥¿ª½ªº¬Û¦ü¥Ö½§¡C °ß¤@ªº¤£¦P¬O¡A¥L¦³¾Ç²ß±±¨î¥¦ªº±K«×¡A¦Ó¥B¥LªºÄ²Ä±·P¤´µMµy·L¿ð¶w--¦n¹³¥L¥¿¦bÀ¹¤@­Ó¥L¤£¥i¥H°_­¸ªº¤£¯à¯}Ãaªº¨©´ß¡C ·Pı¬O¤ñ¦w¼¢­­¨îªº§ó¦h¡A¦ý¬O¥LºCºC¦a¥¿¦b²ßºD©ó¥¦¡C
Joe went back to his rooms, showered, changed into jeans and T shirt and lay back on the bed to watch the news. Other than the exercise, he had no other schedule. Rafael noticed he was getting restless--"A sure sign of recovery." / ³ì¦^¥h¥Lªº©Ð¶¡, ²O¯D, ´«¦¨¤û¥J¿Ç©M T Ũ­m¦Ó¥B¦b§É¤W¦V«á¦a©ñ¸m¬Ý·s»D¡C °£¤F½m²ß¤§¥~¡A¥L¨S¦³¨ä¥Lªº®É¶¡ªí¡C Rafael ª`·N¤F¥L¥¿¦b¤£¦wÀR--"«ì´_ªº¤@­Ó½T«H²Å¸¹".
Rafael gave Joe free run of the area; even though the doctor didn't like it, he felt it essential in gaining the young man's trust. Rafael's laboratory complex consisted of a warren of underground tunnels and rooms that had evidently been there for hundreds of years. The rooms were either modified with insulation and metal paneling, or left with their original walls of brick and stone. The island itself was only three square miles, and appeared to be somewhere on the Mediterranean. It was uncharted, as both the ISO and the Syndicate had taken advantage of the chaos created by the last world war to make certain records disappear. The only sign of habitation were the crumbling stone buildings of small fishing village, deserted after a tidal wave had devastated the area. / Rafael µ¹¤©¤F³ì°Ï°ìªº¦Û¥Ñ©b¶]; §Y¨ÏÂå¥Í¨S¦³³ßÅw¥¦,¥L¦b±o¨ì¦~»´ªº¨k¤H«H¿à¤è­±·Pı¥¦¥²­nªº¡C ½ÆÂøªº Rafael's ªº¹êÅç«Ç¦³¦a¤UªºÀG¹D©M©úÅã¦a¤w¸g¦b¨º¸Ì¼Æ¦Ê¦~ªº©Ð¶¡¤@­Ó¾i¨ß³õ¡C ©Ð¶¡¬O©Î¥Hµ´½t©Mª÷ÄÝ»sªº´OÆ^ªO­×¥¿, ©Î¥H¥L­Ìªº¿j¶ô©M¥ÛÀYªº³ÌªìÀð¾ÀÂ÷¶}¡C ®q¥»¨­¥u¬O¤T¥­¤è­ù, ¦Ó¥B¬Ý°_¨Ó¬Y³B¦b¦a¤¤®ü¤W¡C ¥¦¬O®ü¹Ï¥¼¸üªº,¦p¦P°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´©M¥ø·~Áp¦X¤w¸g§Q¥Î³Q³Ì¤£¥i¯à½T©w¬ö¿ý®ø¥¢ªº¥@¬É¾Ôª§³Ð³yªº¤j²V¶Ã¤@¼Ë¡C ©~¦íªº°ß¤@²Å¸¹¬O¤pªº³¨³½±Y¼ì¥ÛÀY«Ø¿vª«§ø²ø,¦b¤@­Ó®ü¼S¤w¸g·´Ãa°Ï°ì¤§«á¿ò±ó¡C
Rafael didn't work alone. He had a number of assistants who did related research and maintained the complex. Some were cyborgs, though most were not. They reminded Joe of worker ants; silent, colorless and professional in their duties. Joe rarely spoke to them--they were so different from the young, vital crowd that he was accustomed to being part of, and they kept a respectful distance, as if he were some sort of sensitive and dangerous weapon. Though he considered himself a loner, Joe didn't care for this kind of forced loneliness. His only alternative was talking to Dr. Rafael, so he occasionally spent his time in the lab, asking questions or simply watching the goings-on. The old man was in many ways like the scientists at the ISO, but his dignified and slightly eccentric demeanor also accompanied a wicked sense of humor. Joe suspected that he had been a hell-raiser in his youth, not unlike himself, and that age and experience hadn't quite worn away a fondness for mayhem. / Rafael ¨S¦³¿W¦Û¦a¤u§@¡C ¥L¦³¤F³\¦hªº°µ¤F¬ÛÃöªº¬ã¨s¡A¦Ó¥BºûÅ@¦X¦¨ª«ªº§U²z¡C ¤@¨Ç¬O cyborgs,ÁöµM¤j³¡¤À¤£¬O¡C ¥L­Ì¨Ï³ì·Q°_¤u¤H¿ÂÃÆ; ¨HÀqªº, µL¦âªº©M¥L­Ìªº³d¥ô±M·~¤H¤h¡C ³ì«Ü¤Ö¦a¸ò¥L­Ì»¡¸Ü--¥L­Ì¦~»´ªÌ¬O¦p¦¹¤£¦P, ­«­nªº¸s²³¥L²ßºD§@¬°³¡¥÷,¦Ó¥B¥L­Ìºû«ù¤Fªí¥Ü´L·qªº¶ZÂ÷,¦n¹³¥L¬O¤@¨ÇºØ±Ó·Pªº©M¦MÀIªºªZ¾¹¡C ÁöµM¥L¦Ò¼{¤F¥L¦Û¤v¤@­Ó³ß©t¿WªÌ,³ì¨S¦³·ÓÅU³Q­¢ªº±I¹æ³o¤@­ÓÃþ«¬¡C ¥Lªº°ß¤@´À¥N¿ï¾Ü¥¿¦b©M Rafael ³Õ¤h»¡¸Ü¡A¦]¦¹¡A¥L¦³®É­Ô¦b¹êÅç«Ç¤¤«×¹L¥Lªº®É¶¡,°Ý°ÝÃD©Î¥u¬O¬Ý goings-¦b¤§¤W¡C ¦Ñ¤H¦b°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¦b³\¦h¤è­±¹³¬ì¾Ç®a, ¦ý¬O¥Lªº¦³«ÂÄYªº©M¤]³Q³­¦ñÃaªº«ÕÀq·Pªº¨Ç·L¥j©ÇªººA«×¡C ³ì²q·Q¡A¥L¤w¸g¬O¦aº»-¥Lªº«C¦~®É´Áªº´£°ªªÌ,¤£¤£¹³¥L¦Û¤v¡A¦Ó¥B¨º¤@­Ó¦~ÄÖ©M¸gÅç¨S¦³¬Û·íÀ¹Â÷¶}¹ï¶Ë®`¸oªº³ß·R¡C
He was prowling the north wing when he came across a dark storeroom filled with strange shadows. He found the light switch, and a few low-wattage bulbs came on, barely enough to illuminate the room. At first he thought they were statues, but as he ventured further into the gloom, he saw animals of every shape, size and species. He walked silently between shelves of dragonflies and spiders and along display platforms of rats, dogs, cats, birds, deer, monkeys, wolves, lions, seals and elephants. All looked real, and all were frozen in various poses. Joe touched the flank of a crouching tiger and felt hard metal beneath the fur. Then he grasped his forearm, feeling the muscles slide beneath his armored skin--reassuring. / ·í¥L°¸µMµo²{¤@­Ó¥Rº¡©_©Çªº¼v¹³¶Â·tªºÀxÂëǪº®É­Ô¡A¥L¥¿¦b¼ç¦æ¥H³V­¹¥_¤è¯Í»H¡C ¥Lµo²{»´ªº¶}Ãö¡A¦Ó¥B¤@¨Ç§C¥Ë¯S¼Æ²y²ôµo¥Í , ´X¥G¥R¨¬·Ó©ú©Ð¶¡¡C °_¥ý¥L·Q¡A¥L­Ì¬OÀJ¹³¡A¦ý¬O·í¥L§ó¶i¤@¨B¶i¤J®ø¨I¤§¤º«_ÀI¤@¸Õªº®É­Ô,¥L¬Ý¨£¨C§Îª¬¡A¤j¤p©M«~ºØªº°Êª«¡C ¥LÀqÀq¦a¦b»f¸»©M»jµïªº¬[¤§¶¡©MªuµÛ¦Ñ¹«¡Aª¯¡A¿ß¡A³¾¡A³À¡AµU¤l¡A¯T¡A·à¤l¡A¦L³¹©M¶Hªº®iÄý¤ë¥x¨«¸ô¡C ¥þ³¡¬Ý°_¨Ó¯u¥¿¡A¦Ó¥B¥þ³¡¦b¦UºØ¤£¦Pªº«º¶Õ¤¤³Q­áµ²¡C ³ì¦b¤ò¥Ö¤§¤U¸IIJ¤FÃÛ¤U¦Ñªêªº°¼­±¦Ó¥B·Pı¤FÃøªºª÷ÄÝ¡C µM«á¥L§ì¦í¤F¥Lªº«eÁu,·Pı¦Ù¦×¦b¥LªºªZ¸Ë¥Ö½§¤§¤U·Æ°Ê--¦w¤ßªº¡C
He walked around to the animal's head. The tiger's jaws were slack, exposing a rough pink tongue and canines like daggers. Its golden eyes stared blankly ahead. / ¥L¦bªþªñ¨«¸ô¨ì°Êª«ªºÀY¡C ¦Ñªêªº¤f¬OÃP¦¢ªº,¼ÉÅS¹³¤P­º¤@¼Ëªº¤@­Ó²ÊÁWªº¯»¬õ¦Þ©M¤ü¾¦¡C ¥¦ªºª÷²´·ú¦V«e¦a¯íµM¦aª`µø¡C
Then they blinked. / µM«á¥L­Ì¯w²´¡C
Joe froze. All around him, he could sense the high-pitched whine of circuits coming on line. / ³ì­áµ²¡C ¦b¥Lªº©P³ò¥|³B¡A¥L¥i¥H·Pı¦b½u¤Wªº½u¸ô¦y¾Uªº©ê«è¨ÓÁ{¡C
Oh shit. / ®@ÁT¡C
The cat looked directly at Joe; the head snapped up, the jaws closed, and the ears pricked forward in interest. Joe eased back into a ready crouch, hands up, and waited for it to spring. / ¿ßª½±µ¦a¦b³ì¬Ý; ÀY·m¥ý§Ë¨ì¤â ,¤fÃö³¬¡A¦Ó¥B¦Õ¦·¦b¿³½ì¤¤¦V«e¦a¨ë¡C ³Q½w©Mªð¦^·Ç³Æ¦nªºÃÛ¥ñ³ì, ¶Ç»¼¦b,¤W­±¦Ó¥Bµ¥­Ô¥¦¸õ¡C
The tiger lifted its muzzle high and sniffed in his direction. Then apparently satisfied, it turned its back on him, shook itself, and walked away. / ¦ÑªêÁ|°_¤F¥¦ªº°Êª«¤§»ó¤f°ª«×¨Ã¥B¦b¥Lªº¤è¦V¤¤¶å¡C µM«áÅãµM¦aº¡·N,¥¦Âà¤F¦b¥L¤Wªº¥¦­I³¡¡M·n°Ê¤F¥¦¥»¨­¡M¦Ó¥B¨«¶}¡C
All around him, the rest of the animals were becoming active, and the room was filled with sounds and movement. A toucan flew over his head, landed on a shelf not far away, and squawked. / ¦b¥Lªº©P³ò¥|³B¡A°Êª«ªº¨ä¥¦³¡¤À¥¿¦bÅܦ¨¿n·¥¡A¦Ó¥B©Ð¶¡¥Rº¡Án­µ©M¹B°Ê¡C ¤@­Ó¥¨¼L³¾­¸¹L¥LªºÀY¡M¦b¤£»·³Bªº¤@­Ó¬[¤Wµn³°¡M¦Ó¥B¥Ê¥Ê¦a¥s»ï¡C
The door opened and Dr. Rafael walked in. As usual, the hawk was riding on his shoulder, and didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the open menagerie. Joe wondered yet again if the bird was a cyborg as well. / ªù¥´¶}¡A¦Ó¥B Rafael ³Õ¤h¨«¤J¡C ¹³©¹±`¤@¼Ë¡AÆN¥¿¦b·f­¼¥LªºªÓ, ¦Ó¥B¨S¦³¦ü¥G³Q¶}©ñªº°Êª«¶éÂZ¶Ãªº³Ì¤Ö¤@ÂIÂI¡C ¦pªG³¾¤]¬O cyborg ¡A³ì¦A¤@¦¸¤´µMÃhºÃ¡C
Rafael noticed his stance. "They won't attack you," he said. "I have no desire to see them destroyed." / Rafael ª`·N¤F¥LªººA«×¡C "¥L­Ì±N¤£§ðÀ»§A",¥L»¡¡C "§Ú¨S¦³±ý±æ¨£¥L­Ì¯}Ãa" ¡C
Thanks for the confidence, Joe thought as he straightened up. Something ran past his foot, and he turned to see a white rat scurry around the corner. / ·í¥L§Ëª½ªº®É­Ô¡AÁÂÁ«H¤ß³ì·Qªk¦b¤W­±¡C ¬Y¨Æ¶]¹L¥h¥Lªº¸}¡A¦Ó¥B¥L·Ç³Æ¨£¤@°¦¥Õ¦âªº¦Ñ¹«¥^¦£¦a¶]§Y±N¨ÓÁ{¡C
"What do you think?" Rafael asked. / " §A·Q¤°»ò"? Rafael °Ý¡C
"You'd think they were real." / " §A±N·|»{¬°¥L­Ì¬O¯u¥¿ªº" ¡C
"I can duplicate them right down to their scents. Not that I'd want to do that in here." He grinned in satisfaction. "These are some of my best pieces, though they are old. The smaller ones I've used for years." / "§Ú¯à¥¿½T¦a¹ï¥L­Ìªº®ð¨ý½Æ»s¥L­Ì¤U¨Ó¡C ¤£¨º§Ú±N·|·Q­n°µ¨º¦b³o¸Ì¡C"¥L¦bº¡¨¬¤è­±ÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C " ³o¨Ç¬O¤@¨Ç§Úªº³Ì¦n¦a­×¸É,ÁöµM¥L­Ì«Ü¦Ñ¡C ¸û¤pªº¤@¨Ç§Ú¤w¸g¨Ï¥Îªø¹F¼Æ¦~¤§¤[¡C"
"Yeah, I may have run into them once or twice," Joe muttered. / "¬Oªº, §Ú¥i¯à¤w¸g°¸¹J¥L­Ì¤@¦¸©Î¨â¦¸",³ì³ä³ä¦Û»y¡C
"Those weren't mine. Too clumsy," Rafael said, and when Joe fixed him with a piercing stare, shrugged. "And that was the past. Not like now. How are you progressing?" / "¨º¨Ç¤£¬O§Úªº¡C ¤Ó²Â©åªº,"Rafael »¡, ¦Ó¥B·í³ì¥Î¤@­Ó¨ë°©ªºª`µø­×²z¥Lªº®É­Ô,ÁqªÓ¡C "¦Ó¥B¨º¬O¹L¥h¡C ¤£¬Û¦üªº²{¦b¡C §A¦p¦ó«P¶i?"
"Steadily." Joe looked away. / "í©w¦a". ³ì¬ÝÂ÷¶}¡C
"Really? Catch." / "¯uªº¶Ü? ®·®»¡C"
Joe's hand snapped up instantly and the object slapped gently into his palm. He regarded Rafael with a grin as he closed his hand and brought it down, then slowly opened the fingers for the doctor to see. / ³ìªº¤â¥ß§Y¦a·m¥ý§Ë¨ì¤â¡A¦Ó¥Bª«Åé³vº¥¦a¶i¤J¥Lªº¤â´x¤§¤º©çÀ»¡C ·í¥LÃö³¬¤F¥Lªº¤â¦Ó¥B§â¥¦±a¤U¨Óªº®É­Ô¡A¥L¥ÎÅS¾¦¯ºµø¬° Rafael,ºCºC¦aµM«á¬°Âå¥Í¥´¶}¤â«ü¬Ý¨£¡C
The egg he held was undamaged. / ³J¥L®³µÛ³Q¤£·l®`¡C
Dr. Rafael's expression spread into a grin of delight. "I think it's time to turn you loose on the world," he said. / Rafael's ³Õ¤hªí¹F¶i¤J°ª¿³ªºÅS¾¦¯º¤§¤º¶Ç§G¡C " §Ú»{¬°¡A²{¦b¬O¸ÓÂà§Aªº®É­Ô¼eÃPªº¦b¥@¬É¤W",¥L»¡¡C

To Be Continued / ¬OÄ~Äòªº

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