OUT OF THE SHADOWS / ±q¼v¹³
PART 7 / ²Ä 7 ³¡¥÷
--12--
Dr. Rafael watched the attendants bustling about the room, inspecting
consoles, pulling printouts. Data spooled over the central screen. Rafael
moved closer to look at it, stretching the phone receiver to the end of
its tether. A cordless phone would have been so much more convenient,
but too high a security risk. / Rafael ³Õ¤hÃö©ó©Ð¶¡¬ÝÀH±qº³º³ÄcÄcªº,Àˬd±±¨îÂi¡A©Ô¦L¥X¡C ¸ê®Æ¦b¤¤¥¡ªº¿Ã¹õ¤§¤WÄñ¶¦b½u¶b¤W¡C
Rafael ²¾°Ê¤ñ¸û¾aªñªº¬Ý¥¦,¬°¥Øªº¥¦ªºÃ´Ã·¦ù®i¹q¸Ü±µ¦¬¾¹¡C ¤@¨ãµL½uªº¹q¸Ü·|¬O¦p¦¹§ó¥[¤è«K, ¦ý¬O¤Ó°ª«×¦a¦w¥þ·ÀI¡C
"I see what you mean. Ten more engineers missing. That brings the
count to twenty six. What else has your surveillance told you?" /
"§Ú²z¸Ñ§A©Ò·N¿×ªº¡C ¤£¨£ªº¥t¥~¤QÓ¤uµ{®v¡C ¨º±aµÛp¼Æ¨ì¤G¤Q¤»¡C §Oªº¦³§AºÊµøªº§i¶D§A?"
"Not much else. The Syndicate is operating from no known landform.
That's all I can say for certain." / "¤£¬O¦h§Oªº¡C ¥ø·~Áp¦X¥¿¦b±q¨S¦³¤wª¾ªº¦a§Î¾Þ§@¡C
¨º¬O¥þ³¡§Ú¯à½T¹ê»¡¡C"
"No way to narrow down a location?" / " ¨S¦³¤èªkªu¦aÂI¦V¤UÁY¤p"?
"None so far. Whoever is currently in charge is very shrewd. There
is little we can do until this commander slips." / " ¨S¦³¤H¨ì²{¦b¬°¤î¡C
¥ô¦ó¤H²{¦b¬O´xºÞ«D±`ºë©ú¡C ¨º¸Ì«Ü¤p§Ú̯వ¨ì³o¤@Ó«ü´§©x·Æ¡C"
"Or the Syndicate chooses to expose itself." / "©Î¥ø·~Áp¦X¿ï¾Ü¼ÉÅS¥¦¥»¨"
¡C
"I suspect that will be soon enough," the caller said. "What
has become of your project?" / " §ÚÃhºÃ¡A¨º±N«Ü§Ö¥R¨¬",¨Ó¹qªÌ»¡¡C §Aªºpµe«ç»ò¤F?
Dr. Rafael sighed. "He's suffered a minor setback. That is all."
Joe had disappeared early that morning with no explanation; not an encouraging
sign. / Rafael ³Õ¤h¼Û®§¡C "¥L³Q¾D¨ü¤@Ó¸û¤pªº®À§é¡C ¨º¬O©Ò¦³ªº¡C" ³ì¤w¸g¨º¤Ñ¦±áªì´Á³Q¨S¦³¸ÑÄÀ®ø¥¢;
¤£¬O¤@Ó¹ªÀy²Å¸¹¡C
"Minor? He lost control and his confidence. That's something beyond
your ability to correct. Do you still think this was a good idea?"
/ "»²×? ¥L¥¢¥h¤F±±¨î©M¥Lªº«H¤ß¡C ¨º¬O¬Y¨Æ¶W¹L§Aªº§ï¥¿¯à¤O¡C §A¤´µM»{¬°³o¬O¤@Ó¦n·Qªk¶Ü?"
"Why do you seem so determined to prove that I made the wrong decision?"
The words slipped out before the old scientist could stop them. "We
both stand to lose by this." / " §A¬°¤°»ò¦ü¥G¦p¦¹ªº°í¨MÃÒ©ú¥HP©ó§Ú§@¥X¤F¿ù»~ªº¨M©w"?
¦b¦Ñ¬ì¾Ç®a¥i¥Hªý¤î¥L̤§«e , ¦r·ÆË¥X¡C "§ÚÌdz£¯¸³Q³o¥¢¥h" ¡C
"That's why I'm so concerned. We can't afford to lose." "I
trust him." Dr. Rafael hung up the phone, scowling. / "¨º¬O§Ú¬°¤°»ò¬O¦p¦¹Ãö¤ß¡C
§Ṳ́£¯àt¾á¥¢¥h¡C""§Ú«H¿à¥L¡C"Rafael ³Õ¤h±¾Â_¹q¸Ü,½K¬ÜÀY¡C
Why was he being so defensive of Joe? Was it pride? Concern? True, he
was professionally concerned about the well-being of his project--he had
to be if he wanted to carry the mission through to its conclusion. But
was it something more? A life dedicated to his career and several ironic
twists of fate precluded Dr. Rafael's having a family of his own. He should
know better than to get emotionally involved at this point. / ¬°¤°»ò¬O¥L³ì¦p¦¹¨¾¿m?
¥¦¬O¦Û¶Æ¶Ü¡H Ãö¤ß? ¯u¹êªº,¥L±M·~¦aÃö¤ß¥Lªºpµe¦w¹çªÌ--¦pªG¥L·Qn¹ï¥¦ªºµ²½×¬ï¶VÄâ±a¥ô°È¡A¥L¥²¶·¬O¡C ¦ý¬O¥¦§ó¦hªºªF¦è? ¥Í¬¡§e²{¨ì¥Lªº¨Æ·~¡A¦Ó¥B¤@¨Ç©R¹Bªº§N¼J¤@§á¹w¥ý±Æ°£¤F¦³¥L¦Û¤vªº¤@Ó®a®x
ªº Rafael's ³Õ¤h¡C ¥LÀ³¸Ó¤£·|¶Ì¨ì¦¹®É¦b±¡ºü¤W¦³Ãö¡C
Flashbacks: Complex microcircuitry, new cerametal compounds; the dilemma
of how to place panels of heatproof polymer endodermal layers on a human
form so that the seams were least vulnerable. Wide eyes staring up at
him from the operation table, full of wonder and surprise. Joe perched
on a high counter, watching silently as he pored through sheafs of diagrams.
His hand on a taut shoulder as they stood amidst the ruins of yet another
lab room; coaching the young man out of another bout with frustration.
An expression of despair reflected in shards of shattered mirror; a boxing
bag bleeding sand and stuffing onto the floor: I didn't kill those people,
I demolished them. Because I can't control this body! / ˱Ô: ½ÆÂøªº·LÀô¸ô,·sªº
cerametal ²V¦X; §x¹Ò¸Ó¦p¦ó©ñ heatproof »E¦XÅé endodermal ªº»ö¿öªO¼h¦b¤@ºØ¤HÃþªº§Î¦¡¥H«KÁ_¦X½u¤W¬O³Ì¤Ö©ö¨ü¶Ë®`ªº¡C
ª`µø ªº¼e²´·ú¦b¥L±q¤â³N®à¤l¤W±, ¥Rº¡ªº©_ÂÝ©M·N¥~¡C ³ì¦b¤@Ó°ªªºÂd¥x¤W´Ï®§, ÀqÀq¦a¬Ý·í¥L¼ôŪ¹L¹Ïªíªº§ô¡C ¦b¤@Ó©ÔºòªºªÓ¤W¥L¤â·í°µ¥L̦b·´·À·í¤¤¯¸¥ßµM¦Ó¥t¤@Ó¹êÅç«Ç©Ð¶¡;
¥Ñ©ó©M®À§éªº¥t¦¸°V½m¦~»´ªº¨k¤H¡C µ´±æªºªí¹F¦b¥´¸HªºÃè¤l¸H¤ù¤¤¤Ï¬M; ¦b¦aªO¤§¤Wªº¤@Ó®±À»³U¤l¥X¦å¨F¤l©M¶ñ¶ëª«: §Ú¨S¦³±þ¨º¨Ç¤H,§Ú·´¤F¥LÌ¡C
¦]¬°§Ú¤£¯à±±¨î³o¤@Ó¨Åé!
How old was Joe now? Close to twenty? / ²{¦b³ì´X·³? µ²§ô¨ì¤G¤Q?
The air stirred, and Rafael braced himself as the hawk's weight impacted
with his shoulder. Absently, he stroked the bird's sleek feathers with
the back of his finger and forced his attention back to the video screens.
/ ·íÆNªº«¶q¥H¥LªºªÓ¼vÅTªº®ÉÔ¡AªÅ®ð¿E°_¡A¦Ó¥B Rafael ¤ä¼µ¤F¥L¦Û¤v¡C ¤ß¤£¦b²j¦a¡A¥L¥Î¥Lªº¤â«üI±¦E§À¼Õ³¾ªº¥ú·Æ¦Ð¤ò¦Ó¥B§â¥Lªºª`·NÀ£¢¦^¼v¹³¿Ã¹õ¡C
Back in London, Getz rented a car at the airport, not wanting to trust
a taxi. His passport, ID and credit cards all bore the name of Jack Sutherland,
an American tourist, but he knew it to be a token gesture. / ¦bÛ´°¦^,Getz
¦b¾÷³õ¯²¥Î¤@½ø¨T¨®, ¤£·Qn«H¿à¤@½øpµ{¨®¡C ¥LªºÅ@·Ó¡A¨¥÷ÃÒ©M«H¥Î¥d¤ù¥þ³¡·ÐÂZ³Ç§JÂÄ·æÄõªº¦W¦r¡A¤@Ó¬ü°êÆ[¥ú«È¡A¦ý¬O¥Lª¾¹D¤F¥¦¬O¤@Óªí¼x¤â¶Õ¡C
Is this how it's going to be from now on? he thought. / ³o¬O¥¦¦p¦ó¥¿¦b¥h±q²{¦b¶}©l¶Ü?
¥L·Q¡C
Could he convince Mako to come with him into this self-imposed prison
of secrecy? How long would it take before she got bored? Mako preferred
high adventure to the staid, studious atmosphere of a laboratory, but
she was far from agent material. And even if he could convince her to
stay with him, could he convince Dr. Nambu to shelter her? The professor
frowned on family involvement. It seemed hopeless, and now he almost dreaded
meeting her. / ¥L¥i¥H»¡ªA Mako ¶i¤J¯µ±Kªº³o©Ò¦Û§Ú¥[±jªººÊº»¤§¤º©M¥L¨Ó¶Ü? ¦b¦oµL½ì¤F¤§«e , ¥¦±N·|ªá¦h¤[ªº®É¶¡? Mako
³ßÅw°ª«×«_ÀI³Ó¹L¹êÅç«ÇªºÃ«, ·R¦n¾Ç°Ýªº¤j®ð¡A¦ý¬O¦oÂ÷¥N²z¤H§÷®Æ«Ü»·¡C ¦Ó¥B§Y¨Ï¥L¥i¥H¨Ï¦o¬Û«H¦b¥L®a³r¯d,¥L¥i¥H¨Ï Nambu ³Õ¤h¬Û«H§ÈÅ@¦o¶Ü?
±Ð±Â¦b®a®x²o¯A¤W½K¬ÜÀY¡C ¥¦¦ü¥GµL§Æ±æ¡A¦Ó¥B²{¦b¥L´X¥G®£Äß¹J¨£¦o¡C
He tried not to make it appear as if he was constantly looking over his
shoulder. When the car pulled up, he made what looked to be a cursory
inspection for dents and scratches, but in reality searching for bombs.
Once he was left to his own devices, he pulled his tracer out and used
it before starting the engine. / ¥L¹Á¸Õ¤£n¨Ï¥¦¥X²{¦n¹³¥L¥¿¦b¤£ÅܦaÂsÄý¥LªºªÓ¡C ·í¨T¨®©Þ¥Xªº®ÉÔ,¥L»s³y¤F´Á«Ý¬O¥W²ª©MÀ¿¶Ëªº¤@¦¸¥^¥^¦£¦£ªºÀËÅçªF¦è
, ¦ý¬O¦b¨Æ¹ê°w¹ï¬µ¼uªº·j´M¤¤¡C ¤@¥¹¥L¯dµ¹¥L¦Û¤vªº¸Ë¸m,¥L¦b¥~©Ô¥Lªº°lÂܪ̦ӥB¦b¶}©l¤ÞÀº¤§«e¨Ï¥Î¤F¥¦¡C
Getz drove, eyes darting, scanning for threats. No sign of a pursuing
car; no one appeared interested in him. So far so good. He made it to
his hotel intact and checked in. All he had to do now was stay alive for
the two days until Mako arrived. / Getz ¶}¨®,§ë®g¡A¬°«Â¯Ù±½´y ªº²´·ú¡C ¨S¦³¤@½ø°l¨D¨T¨®ªº¸ñ¶H;
¨S¦³¤H¦b¥L¸Ì±¦ü¥G³Q·P¿³½ì¡C ¨ì²{¦b¬°¤î¦p¦¹¦n¡C ¥L°µ¨ì¨ì¥Lªº®ÈÀ]©|¥¼³Q¤H¸I¹L¦Ó¥B¿ìµn°O¤âÄò¡C ¥þ³¡¥L²{¦b¥²¶·°µ¬O°±¯d¬¡µÛªº¤G¤Ñª½¨ì Mako
¨ì¹F¡C
--13--
Breakfast at G-Town: the four members of the Kagaku Ninjatai shared a
table in the corner of the central mess area for a silent meal. Their
apartments were equipped with full kitchens, but no one had thought to
stock them, and they didn't care to do their own cooking. / ¦b G ªº¦À\-«°Âí:
Kagaku Ninjatai ªº¥|Ó¦¨û¹ï©ó¨HÀqªº¤@À\¦b¤¤¥¡ªºÂø¶Ã°Ï°ìªº¨¤¸¨¤¤¤À¨É¤@±i®à¤l¡C ¥L̪º¤½´J³Q¸Ë³Æ§¹¾ãªº¼p©Ð¡A¦ý¬O¨S¦³¤H¤w¸g·Q¶i³f¥LÌ¡A¦Ó¥B¥L̨S¦³Ãö¤ß°µ¥L̦ۤvªº²i¶¹¡C
Amidst the clinking of dishware and the muted conversations of other diners,
a preoccupied Ken poked at his food without eating much of it. Jun swirled
a cup of tea with a plastic stirrer, her eyes downcast. The coldness emanating
from her was almost visible. Ryu ate with his usual gusto, pausing to
look around the room. He had no idea how to deal with the stormy weather
at the table with anything but puzzled silence. Jinpei sighed and scraped
together the last of his scrambled eggs with his fork. Any attempts to
start conversation would fall flat, just as they had during previous meals.
/ ¦bºÐ©M¨ä¥Lªº¥ÎÀ\ªÌªº³Q°×¤lªº¥æ½Í¥m¾´ÅTªÌ·í¤¤¡A¤@Ó³Q¥ý¥eªºªÖ®¦¤£»Ýn¦Y³\¦hªº¥¦´N¦b¥Lªº¹ª«¼·¶}¡C ¤»¤ë¥Î¤@Ӷ콦ªºÅͩժ̷n®Ì¤@ªM¯ù, ®ð¾kªº¦o²´·ú¡C
±q¦o´²µo ªº´H§N´X¥G¬Ý±o¨£¡C Ryu ¥H¥Lªº¥±`·R¦n¦Y, ¼È°±¥|³B¬Ý¬Ý©Ð¶¡¡C ¥L¤£ª¾¹D¸Ó¦p¦ó¥H¨M¤£§x´bªº¨HÀq¦b®à¤l³B²z¼É·«Bªº¤Ñ®ð¡C Jinpei
¼Û®§¦Ó¥B¤@°_¨í±¼¦³¥Lªº¤e¤l¥LÃk½t³Jªº³Ì«áªÌ¡C n¶}©l¥æ½Íªº¥ô¦ó¹Á¸Õ±N·|¸¨¤U¥©Z,¥¿¦p¥L̦b¥ý«eªº¤@À\´Á¶¡¦³¡C
The chief problem was Ken and Jun. Two hours after Ken had told the team
they were returning to active duty. Jinpei had returned to the bar to
find broken glass all over the floor and Jun gone. She had reappeared
at dawn after a night of disco hopping, puffy-eyed and sick from drinking.
She never drank. / ¥Dnªº°ÝÃD¬OªÖ®¦©M¤»¤ë¡C ªÖ®¦«á¤G¤p®É¤w¸g§i¶D¤p²Õ¥LÌ¥¿¦b¦^¨ì¿n·¥ªº³d¥ô¡C Jinpei ¤w¸g¦^¨ì°s§a¦b¥þ¦aªOµo²{¥´¯}¬Á¼þ©M¤£¨£¤Fªº¤»¤ë¡C
¦o¤w¸g¦b¯}¾å¦A¥X²{¦b¤@Ó©]±ß¤§«á¸õ¨f´µ¥i»R³æ¸}¸õ,µÈ¤jªº- ²´ªº©M¤£µÎªA±q³Ü¡C ¦o±q¤£³Ü¡C
"Oneechan! Wha--?" / "Oneechan! Wha--?"
"We're closed today," she'd mumbled, then staggered upstairs
to her room to sleep until three in the afternoon. She had refused to
discuss it, but Jinpei suspected there had been quite an argument that
night. The bruise on Ken's face had confirmed it. / " §Ṳ́µ¤Ñ³QÃö³¬",¦o¤w¸g³ä³ä¦Ó»y,
µM«á¦b¼Ó¤WÂÚ¶\¨ì¦oªº©Ð¶¡¤È«áºÎı¨ì¤T¡C ¦o¤w¸g©Úµ´°Q½×¥¦, ¦ý¬O Jinpei ¥iºÃªº¨º¸Ì¨º©]±ß¤w¸g¬Û·í¤@Óª§½×¡C ¦bªÖ®¦ªºÁy¤W·ï¶Ë¤w¸g½T»{¥¦¡C
And Ken... Ever since that incident in the gym where he had almost run
himself to death, the Gatchaman had vanished into his own little world.
He rarely spoke outside the training sessions and looked like he was losing
weight. Jinpei wished Dr. Nambu would intervene, but the Professor remained
remote and unreachable behind a wall of appointments and official duties.
/ ¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦¡C¡C¡C ¥Ñ¦b¥L´X¥G¤w¸g¹ï¦º¤`¶]¥L¦Û¤vªº«Ø¨©Ð¤¤ªº¨º¤@Өƥó¦Ü¤µ,Gatchaman ¤w¸g¶i¤J¥L¾Ö¦³¤p¥@¬É¤§¤º®ø¥¢¡C ¥L«Ü¤Ö¦a¦b°V½m·|ij¤§¥~»¡¦Ó¥B¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¥L¤@¼Ë¥¿¦b¥¢¥h«¶q¡C
Jinpei Ä@¡A Nambu ³Õ¤h±N·|¤z¯A¡A¦ý¬O±Ð±Â«O«ù»»»·ªº©MµLªk¨ì¹F¦b¬ù·|©M©xûªº¤@±Àð¾À³d¥ô«á±¡C
Of all of them, Ryu had the least to leave behind. Just his marina--a
building and a business. With their orders to remain on base, Jun no longer
had her bar to keep her busy. Ken could no longer fly and had to settle
for the simulators. Jinpei had written letters to Eiji and Mark and Laura,
telling them he was moving, and had given them an address that would forward
to the ISO if they ever bothered to write back. / ¥þ³¡¥LÌ¡A Ryu ¦³¤F³Ì¤Ö¯d¤U¡C ¥¿ª½ªº¥L´²¨B¹D--¤@´É«Ø¿vª«©M¥Í·N¡C
ÂǥѥL̪º¦¸§Ç«O«ù¦b°ò¦¤W, ¤»¤ë¤£¦A¦³¤F¦oªº°s§a«O¦s¦oªº¦£¸L¡C ªÖ®¦¥i¥H¤£¦A¸¦Ó¥B¥²¶·¬°¼ÒÀÀ¾¹¦w¹y¡C Jinpei ¤w¸g¼g«Hµ¹ Eiji
©M°¨§J©MÅÚ©Ô, §i¶D¥L¥¿¦b²¾°Ê, ¦Ó¥B¤w¸gµ¹¥L̤@Ó±N·|Âà±H¨ì°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ªº¦í§}¥L̦pªG¥LÌ´¿¸g·ÐÂZ¦^«H¡C
You think Laura wonders where I went? Whatever happened to Brad the Bully?
Wouldn't they die if they could see what I'm doing now? / §A·Q§Ú¥hªºÅÚ©Ô©_ÂÝ? ¤£½×¤°»òµo¥Í¦b¥¬µÜ¼w´Ûâ®z¤pªÌ¨¤W?
¦pªG¥LÌ¥i¥H¬Ý¨£§Ú¥¿¦b²{¦b°µªº¡A¥ḺN¤£¦º?
Jinpei didn't mind being called back to duty: it was the first familiar
scenario he'd faced in a long time, and training was far less complicated
than school. Still, he missed his classes and his new friends, and had
trouble adjusting to the lack of timetable. Only yesterday he'd come out
of training and realized he was missing fourth period Geometry. / Jinpei
¨S¦³¤¶·N³Q¦^¹q¨ì³d¥ô: ¥¦¬O²Ä¤@Ó¼ô±xªº±¡¸`¥L¦bªøªº®É¶¡¤¤¦³±¹ï¡A¦Ó¥B°V½m»»»·¦a¬O¤ñ¸û¤£½ÆÂø¶W¹L¾Ç®Õ¡C ¨Ï, ¦wÀR¥L·Q©À¥Lªº¯Z¯Å©M¥Lªº·sªB¤Í,
¦Ó¥B¦³§xÂZ½Õ¾ã¨ì¯Ê¥F®É¶¡ªí¡C ¥u¦³¬Q¤Ñ¥L±N·|²æÂ÷°V½m¦Ó¥B¤F¸Ñ¡A¥L¥¿¦b¥¢¥h²Ä¥|ӮɴÁ´X¦ó¾Ç¡C
Though the Team's training was less than conventional, this current round
of training was especially strange, with less emphasis on acrobatics and
tricks and more on mechanical wizardry. Maybe Hakase thinks we can't function
as well because Joe's gone. Not that he doesn't have good reason--look
at everybody! Jinpei's gaze passed from morose face to morose face before
he snorted and downed his orange juice. / ÁöµM¤p²Õªº°V½m¬O¤@ÂI¤]¤£¶Ç²Îªº¡A¦ý¬O³o²{¦b¦^¦Xªº°V½m¤×¨ä©_©Ç,
ÂǥѦb¯S§Þ©M¸Þp¤Wªº¤ñ¸û¤Öªº±j½Õ©M§ó¦b¾÷±ñªº§Å³N¤W¡C ¤]³\ Hakase »{¬°¡A§ÚÌ®£©È³Ì¦n¤£¯à¹B§@¦]¬°¤£¨£¤Fªº³ì¡C ¤£¨º¥L¨S¦³¦n²z¥Ñ--¬Ý¨CÓ¤H!
¦b¥L¼QµÛ®ð§ËÅT»ó¤l¦Ó¥BåP¸¨¤F¥Lªº¾ï¤l¥Ä¤§«e , Jinpei's ªºª`µø±q·T¬ÜWÁyªºÁy¨ì·T¬ÜWÁyªºÁy³q¹L¡C
They no longer used the Tatsumaki Fighter maneuver; instead they generated
the same effect mechanically--when it bothered to work. Nambu was still
weeding the bugs out, hopefully enough so it didn't injure the team members
as much as its intended victims. Engineering was still working on their
new weapons with the air of children creating new toys. The Team viewed
their antics with a combination of amusement at their enthusiasm and annoyance
with the new equipment. "What's wrong with our old weapons?"
became a common refrain. Nambu insisted that the Galactors are getting
used to the old weapons, and if the Team didn't come up with something
different and unconventional, they would suffer. / ¥L̤£¦A¨Ï¥Î¤F Tatsumaki °«¤hºt²ß;
§ï¬°¥L̾÷±ñ¦a²£¥Í¤F¬Û¦Pªº®ÄªG--·í¥¦·ÐÂZ¤u§@ªº®ÉÔ¡C Nambu ¤´µM¥¿¦b¥~°£¯óÂÎ,¦³§Æ±æ¦a¨¬°÷¦]¦¹¥¦¨S¦³¦p«Ü¦h¶Ë®`¤p²Õ¦¨û¦p¥¦ªº¦³·N¨ü®`¤H¡C
¤uµ{¾Ç¤´µM¥¿¦b¥H³Ð³y·sªºª±¨ã ªº«Ä¤lªÅ®ð³B²z¥L̪º·sªZ¾¹¡C ¤p²Õ¦b©M·sªº»ö¾¹¥L̪º¨g¼ö©M·Ð´o¥Î®T¼Öªº¤@Ó²Õ¦X¬Ý¥L̪º·Æ½]°Ê§@¡C "§Ú̪ºÂªZ¾¹«ç»ò¤F
"? Åܦ¨´¶³qªº«½Æ¡C Nambu °í«ù¡A Galactors ¥¿¦b²ßºD©óªºªZ¾¹¡A¦Ó¥B¦pªG¤p²Õ¨S¦³´£¥X¤£¦PªºªF¦è©M«D¶Ç²Îªº,¥ḺN·|¾D¨ü¡C
The first time he threw it, Ken's new saucer had split into three different
projectiles and ricocheted uncontrolled all over the practice room, sending
everyone diving for cover. Jun had thought her new Aurora Ribbon was stupid
and sexist--a silly, decorative trinket used only by teenaged girls in
Gymnastics competitions--at least until it sliced through two inches of
steel wall. Jinpei was less fortunate; still unimpressed with the Rebound
Ball, he longed for his old bolos. But compared to Ryu... Ryu's weapon,
a football-sized wad of elastic chemical compound, could be used like
a cross between Silly Putty and a rolled up wet towel, but it had far
less dignity than the other weapons. The day it was introduced, Jinpei
laughed until his sides hurt. Jun joined in, and even Ken cracked a smile.
Ryu was furious. "No respect," he said. "No matter what
I do, I never get any respect around here." / ²Ä¤@¦¸¥L¥á¥¦¡A¤£¨ü§í¨îªº¦b¥þ½m²ß©Ð¶¡ªºªÖ®¦³Q¦³¼A¶}¶i¤T¤£¦Pªºµo®gÅé©M
ricocheted ¤§¤ºªº·s¯ùºÐ,¬°±»Å@°e¨CÓ¤H¼ç¤ô¡C ¤»¤ë¤w¸g·Q¡A¦oªº·s¶øù©Ô½v±a¬O·MÄøªº©M¨k©Ê¦Ü¤W¥D¸qªÌ--¥u¦³³QÅé¾ÞªºÄvª§«C¤Ö¦~ªº¤k«Ä¨Ï¥Îªº¤@Ó·MÄøªº,
¸Ë¹¢ªº¤p¹¢«~--¦Ü¤Öª½¨ì¥¦¤Á¦¨Á¡¤ù¹L¤G¦Tªº¿ûÀð¾À¡C Jinpei ¬O¤ñ¸û¤£©¯¹B; ¤´µM¤@ÂI¤]¤£¨ØªA¥Ñ©ó«¸iªº²y¡A¥L´÷±æ¥LªºÂ¤j¤M¡C ¦ý¬O»P
Ryu ¬Û¸û¡C¡C¡C Ryu's ªºªZ¾¹¡A¦³¼u©Êªº¤Æ¾Ç²V¦Xª«ªº¤@Ó¨¬²y³W¼Ò¶ñ®Æ, ¥i¯à³Q¨Ï¥Î¹³¤Q¦r¬[¦b·MÄøªºªo¦Ç¤§¶¡©M¤@±²°_À㪺¤â¤y,¦ý¬O¥¦¦³¤F´LÄY»·¤ñ¨ä¥LªZ¾¹¤Öªº¡C
¥¦³Q¤¶²Ðªº¨º¤Ñ,ª½¨ì¥Lªº¨Ãä¶Ë®`¡A Jinpei ¯º¡C ¤»¤ë¥[¤J¡A¦Ó¥B¥©ZªºªÖ®¦§Ë¸H¤@Ó·L¯º¡C Ryu ¬O¨g«ãªº¡C ¨S¦³·q·N,¥L»¡¡C "
µL½×§Ú©Ò°µªº, §Ú±q¤£±o¨ì¥ô¦óªº·q·N¦b³o¸Ì©P³ò".
"Well, of course not," Jinpei shot back. "Not when your
weapon looks like a football-sized booger." That had brought on another
laugh as Ryu chased him around the room, threatening to make him the first
to experience the weapon's effects. / "¶â, ·íµM¤£",Jinpei ¦V«á¦a®gÀ»¡C
" ¤£§AªºªZ¾¹¦ó®É¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¨¬²y³W¼Ò booger ¤@¼Ë". ·í Ryu ¦b©Ð¶¡ªº©P³ò°l®·¥Lªº®ÉÔ¡A¨º¤w¸g¦b¥t¤@Án¯º¤W±a,
®£À~¨Ï¥L¦¨¬°²Ä¤@¸g¾úªZ¾¹ªº®ÄªG¡C
The minutes crawled by. Ken continued to push his food around his plate.
Jun stared into her teacup. Jinpei started in on his toast, trying to
ignore the others. Something had to break the ice soon. / ³Qª¦¦æªº¼Æ¤ÀÄÁ³Q¡C ªÖ®¦Ä~Äò¦b¥LªººÐ¤l©P³ò±À°Ê¥Lªº¹ª«¡C
¤»¤ë¶i¤J¦oªº¯ùªM¤§¤ºª`µø¡C Jinpei ¶}©l¦b¥Lªº¤g¥qÄÑ¥]¤W, ¹Á¸Õ¤£²z¸B¨ä¾lªÌ¡C ¬Y¨Æ¥²¶·«Ü§Ö¥´¯}¦B¡C
Ken's wristband chirped. All four jumped as Ken brought the transmitter
close to his face. "G-1. Go ahead." / ªÖ®¦ªº³S¤f§s³å¦Ó»ï¡C ©Ò¦³ªº¥|·íªÖ®¦±µªñ¦a¥¿¹ïµÛ±a¤Fµo®g¾¹¡A¸õÅD¡C
"G-1. ¥h¦V«e¦a¡C"
"Good morning." It wasn't Nambu, but another chief tech. "This
is Takahara speaking. I have good news. Your vehicles are completed and
the paint's dry." / " ¦¦w". ¥¦¤£¬O Nambu, ¦ý¬O¥t¥~¥Dnªº¬ì§Þ¡C "³o¬O
Takahara »¡¡C §Ú¦³¦n®ø®§¡C §Aªº¨®½ø³Q§¹¦¨©Mªoº£ªº°®¡C"
"When can we take them out?" Ken said. / "§Ú̦ó®É¯à±a¥LÌ¥X¥h"?
ªÖ®¦»¡¡C
"Anytime you're ready." / "ÀH®É§A·Ç³Æ¦n " ¡C
"I see. Thank you." Ken tapped the wristcom off, and for the
first time, the four members of the Kagaku Ninjatai stared each other
in the face. As one, they bolted from the table, leaving the remains of
their food behind. / "§Úª¾¹D¤F¡C ÁÂÁ§A¡C"ªÖ®¦¨«¶}»´¥´¤F wristcom ¡A¦Ó¥B²Ä¤@¦¸¡A Kagaku
Ninjatai ªº¥|Ó¦¨ûª`µø¤FÁyªº©¼¦¹¡C ·í°µ¤@¡A¥Ḻq®à¤l¬¦í,§Ñ°O¥L̪º¹ª«¿òÀe¡C
Professor Takahara was waiting for them at the airlock, and he smiled
at the sight of the four youngsters in Birdstyle, ready to go. "I
thought you'd show up right away. The vehicles are assembled within the
mothership. I'd like to run you through the docking procedures a few times,
then you're free to take them outside. Shall we start?" / ±Ð±Â Takahara
¥¿¦b airlock µ¥Ô¥LÌ¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¤@¬Ý¨£ Birdstyle ªº¥|Ó¦~«C¤H·L¯º,¹w³Æ¥h¡C "§Ú·Q¤F§A±N·|¥ß¨è¥X²{¡C ¨®½ø¦b mothership
¸Ì±³Q¸Ë°t¡C §Ú·Qn¸g¹L³s±µµ{§Ç¶]§A¼Æ®É¥N,µM«á§A¦³ªÅ¥~±±a¥LÌ¡C §Ú̱N¶}©l¶Ü?"
He stepped aside, leaving the door open, and the four surged through...
/ ¥L¯¸¶} ,¯d¤Uªù¤½¶}, ©M¨º¥|¼Éº¦¹L¡C¡C¡C
And skidded to a stop, gaping at the craft that was to be the New Godphoenix.
/ ¦Ó¥B«b¨®¨ì¤@Ó°±¤î, ¦b¸¾÷Á_»Ø¬O·sªº Godphoenix¡C
Ryu was the first to say, "What in the hell is this?" / Ryu
¬O»¡ªº²Ä¤@," ¤°»ò¦b¦aº»¤è±¬O³o"?
Slowly, his face blank, Ken turned to the professor and said in a low,
calm, reasonable voice, "Why is there a face on this warship?"
/ ºCºC¦a, ¥LªºÁyªÅ®æ¡A¦b¤@ºØ§Cªº¡M¥ÀRªº¡M©M¦X²zªºÁnµ¤¤³Q¨D§U©ó±Ð±Â¦Ó¥B»¡ªºªÖ®¦," ¬°¤°»ò¦³¦b³o¤@¿´xÄ¥¤Wªº¤@ÓÁy"?
Takahara didn't blink. "It was the designer's new theme. All of the
vehicles are painted this way to match the bird motif." / Takahara
¨S¦³¯w²´¡C "¥¦¬O³]pªÌªº·s¥DÃD¡C ©Ò¦³ªº¨®½ø³£³o¼Ë³Qµe»P³¾¥DÃD¬Û°t¡C"
"Oh. Great," Jinpei muttered. / "®@¡C ¤j®v,"Jinpei ³ä³ä¦Û»y¡C
"I want it changed. Take the face off the New Godphoenix. Immediately."
/ "§Ú·Qn¥¦³Q§ïÅÜ¡C ¦b·sªº Godphoenix ¥~±aÁy¡C ¥ß¨è¡C"
"But--" / "¦ý¬O--"
"It looks like a giant goddamned chicken!" Ryu bellowed. "Bad
enough it's designed like a--" / "¥¦¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤@Ó³Q°Q¹½ªº¤pÂû¥¨¤H¤@¼Ë"! Ryu
«ã§q¡C " Ãaªº¥R¨¬¥¦³Q³]p¦PÃþ¤@--"
"Ryu!" Jun grabbed his arm and gave it a little shake. / "Ryu"!
¤»¤ë§ì¨ú¤F¥Lªº¤âÁu¦Ó¥Bµ¹¤©¤F¥¦¤p¤pªº·n°Ê¡C
He pulled away. "This is the last straw! I'm not flying that!"
/ ¥L¶}¨«¡C "³o¬O³Ì«á¤@®Ú½_¯ó! §Ú¨S¦³¦b¸¨º!"
"Repaint the ship," Ken said grimly. / "«µe²î",ªÖ®¦ÄY®æ¦a»¡¡C
"But we can't--the expense... the special paint--" / "
°£¤F§Ṳ́§¥~ can't--¶O¥Î¡C¡C¡C ¯S§Oªºªoº£--"
"Repaint it." / "«µe¥¦" ¡C
"We'll have to get clearance from Dr. Nambu." / "§Ú̱N¥²¶·¥Ñ
Nambu ³Õ¤h¦³²M°£" ¡C
"Call him down here, then, " Ken said. The rest of the Team
turned to the professor. / "¦b³o¸Ì³d³Æ¥L,µM«á ",ªÖ®¦»¡¡C ¤p²Õªº¨ä¥¦³¡¤À¨D§U©ó±Ð±Â¡C
Takahara spluttered for a moment before he saw the futility in arguing.
The Kagaku Ninjatai stood glaring at him as one solid front. He turned
and hurried for the nearest phone. / Takahara spluttered ¤@·|¨à¦b¥L¤§«e¦bª§½×¤è±¬Ý¨£µL¥Î¡C
Kagaku Ninjatai ¯¸µÛ°{Ä£ªº¦b¥L¦p¤@ºØ©TÅé«e±¡C ¥L¬°³Ìªñªº¹q¸ÜÂà¦V¦Ó¥B¶Ê«P¡C
"Ken, I understand how you feel. I share your concerns. But we just
don't have the money to repaint the hull. Not after all the construction
we've just completed." / "ªÖ®¦,§Ú¤F¸Ñ§A¦p¦ó·Pı¡C §Ú¤À¨É§AªºÃö¤ß¡C ¦ý¬O§ÚÌ´N¬O¨S¦³¿ú«µe´ß¡C
¤£¬O¦b§ÚÌè觹¦¨ªº©Ò¦³«Ø¿v¤§«á¡C"
Ken glared at him, immovable. "We're not flying it the way it is.
We're the Kagaku Ninjatai, not the Rungling Brothers Circus." "I
can just see our enemies, quaking in fear." Jinpei looked at Ryu
and forced a smile. "Maybe it will help us out in battle. Galactor
will be laughing so hard, we'll be able to just pick 'em off!" When
nobody laughed, the boy stared at the floor. / ªÖ®¦¦b¥Lµo¯t¥ú,©T©wªº¡C "§Ų́S¦³¦b¸¥¦¤è¦¡¥¦¬O¡C
§Ú̬O Kagaku Ninjatai ¦Ó¤£¬O Rungling ¥S§Ì°¨À¸¹Î¡C""§Ú¯à¶È¶È¬Ý¨£§Ú̪º¼Ä¤H,¦b®£Äߤ¤¦a¾_¡C"Jinpei
¬Ý Ryu ¦Ó¥BÀ£¢¤F¤@Ó·L¯º¡C "¤]³\¥¦±N¦b¾Ôª§¤¤À°§U§ÚÌ¡C Galactor ±N¯º¦p¦¹ªº§V¤O, §Ú̱N¹ï¥¿ª½ªººë¿ï¬O¯à°÷ '
em ¨«¶}!"·í¨S¦³¤H¯ºªº®ÉÔ,¨k«Ä¨nµÛ¦aªO¬Ý¡C
"You can either fly it," Nambu said, "Or not fly at all.
Your choice." / " §A¯à©Î¸¥¦",Nambu »¡ ",¥þµM¸¡C §Aªº¿ï¾Ü¡C"
"We can pull the old Godphoenix out of mothballs." / "§Ú̯à§âªº
Godphoenix ±q¼Ì¸£¤Y©Ô¥X¨Ó" ¡C
"And be blown out of the sky on your first mission. Two years have
passed, Ken. Two years that our enemies have spent studying our old battle
patterns and weapons. They'll be ready this time, with new technology
and a thorough knowledge of our weak points. You have already had several
close calls in the past, don't you recall?" / " ¦Ó¥B³Q§jÂ÷¦b§Aªº²Ä¤@Ó¥ô°È¤Wªº¤ÑªÅ¡C
¤G¦~¤w¸g³q¹L,ªÖ®¦¡C §Ú̪º¼Ä¤H¤w¸gªá¶O¾Ç²ß§Ú̪ºÂ¾Ԫ§¨å«¬©MªZ¾¹ªº¤G¦~¡C ¥L̳o¦¸±N·Ç³Æ¦n , ÂǥѧÚ̪º®zÂI·s§Þ³N©M§¹¥þªºª¾ÃÑ¡C §A¹L¥h¤w¸g¦³¤@¨Ç±µªñªº©I¥s¤F,§A¤£¨ú®ø¶Ü?"
"Then refit the old Godphoenix with new weapons," Ken said flatly.
/ "µM«á¥Î·sªºªZ¾¹§ï¸Ëªº Godphoenix",ªÖ®¦¥¥¦a»¡¡C
"If we had the money and space, we could. But our budget is already
stretched to its limit, and the old design wouldn't support the new changes
anyway." He sighed. "Try to cope with it for now. Nothing is
permanent. If the craft doesn't perform to spec, we'll have to change
it anyway. I make you no promises other than we'll see. Take it out, test
it, get accustomed to the new systems. We will work together on this from
now on." / "¦pªG§Ú̦³¤F¿ú©MªÅ¶¡, §ÚÌ¥i¥H¡C ¦ý¬O§Ú̪º¹wºâ¤w¸g³Q¦ù®i¨ì¥¦ªº¨î¡A¦Ó¥Bªº³]p±N¤£µL½×¦p¦ó¤ä«ù·sªº§ïÅÜ¡C"¥L¼Û®§¡C
"¸ÕµÛ¬°²{¦bÀ³¥I¥¦¡C ¨S¨Æ¬O¥Ã¤[ªº¡C ¦pªG¸¾÷¤£ªí²{¨ì§ë¾÷,§Ú̱N¥²¶·µL½×¦p¦ó§ïÅÜ¥¦¡C §Ú¨Ï§A¦¨¬°¨S¦³©Ó¿Õ°£¤F§Ú̱N¬Ý¨£¤§¥~¡C ¨ú¥X¥¦,´ú¸Õ¥¦,¹ï·sªº¨t²ÎÅܲߺD¤F¡C
§Ú̱N±q²{¦b¶}©l¦b³o¤§¤W¤@°_¤u§@¡C"
"That's not enough," Ken snapped. / " ¨º¤£¬O¥R¨¬",ªÖ®¦«rÂ_¡C
"That's all I have to offer you. Take it for what it's worth."
/ "¨º¬O§Ú¥²¶·´£¨Ñ§Aªº¥þ³¡¡C ¬°¥¦¬O»ùȪº±a¥¦¡C"
The two men stood facing each other, eyes locked. It reminded Jinpei much
of the old days, when Ken and Nambu matched wills. Only this time Jun
made no move to intervene, Joe wasn't here, and Jinpei certainly wasn't
going to step into the line of fire. / ¤G¦ì¨k¤H¯¸µÛ¤F¸Ë¹¢±©¼¦¹,²´·úÂê¡C ·íªÖ®¦©M Nambu ¦b¨º®ÉÔ»P·N§Ó¬Û°t¤Fªº®ÉÔ¥¦´£¿ô¤Fªº¼Æ¤Ñ
Jinpei «Ü¦h¡C ¥u¦³³o¦¸¤»¤ë¨S»s³y²¾°Ê¤z¯A, ³ì¤£¦b³o¸Ì¡A¦Ó¥B Jinpei ½T©w¦a¤£±N¶i¤J¤õ½u¤§¤º¦æ¨«¡C
At last the impasse was realized. Nambu indeed had nothing else to offer,
and the Team had no choice if they wanted to fly back into battle. Ken
turned. His cape swept behind him as he headed for the door, motioning
silently for the others to follow. Professor Takahara, who had tried to
make himself as unobtrusive as possible during the confrontation, glanced
up at Dr. Nambu with admiration before he followed the youngsters out.
/ ³Ì«á»ø§½³Q¤F¸Ñ¡C ¦pªG¥LÌ·Qn¸ªð¦^¾Ôª§¡A Nambu ªº½T§O¤°»ò¤]¤£¦³´£¨Ñ¡A¦Ó¥B¤p²Õ¨S¦³¿ï¾Ü¡C ªÖ®¦Âà¦V¡C ·í¥L¥hªùªº®ÉÔ¡A¥LªºÌa¦b¥L«á±²M±½,
¬°¨ä¾lªÌÀqÀq¦a¹B°Ê¸òÀH¡C ¤w¸g¹Á¸Õ¦b¼Ä¹ï´Á¶¡¾¨¥i¯à¤£¦h¼Lªº»s³y¥L¦Û¤vªº±Ð±Â Takahara ¿h°{¦b Nambu ³Õ¤h¤W±¥HÆg½à¦b¥L³e¹ý¦~«C¤H¤§«e¡C
Briefing on docking procedures was made amidst a stony silence, and Takahara
was relieved when the Team left him and boarded the New Godphoenix. The
mothership's hatches opened and shut for a test run, then the engines
fired and Ryu ran through the checklist. At last the hangar doors opened
and the craft rolled forward into the airlock. / ·í¤p²Õ¯d¤U¤F¥L¦Ó¥B·f¼¤F·sªº Godphoenix
ªº®ÉÔ¡A¦b¤J¶õªºµ{§Ç¤W§@²³ø¦b¤@°}±µLªí±¡¨HÀq·í¤¤³Q°µ¡A¦Ó¥B Takahara ³Q´î»´¡C mothership's ªº¿µ¤f¬°¤@Ó³Q¶]ªº´ú¸Õ¥´¶}¦Ó¥BÃö¤W,µM«á¤ÞÀºÂI¿U¡A¦Ó¥B
Ryu ¶]¹LÀˬdªí¡C ³Ì«á¸¾÷®wªù¥´¶}¡A¦Ó¥B¸¾÷¦V«e¦a¶i¤J airlock ¤§¤º±²¡C
The New Godphoenix didn't look so bad from the inside, Ryu had to admit,
but not out loud. There had been a few outbursts when he and the others
had first caught sight of their new vehicles, but now everyone was down
to business. At cruising speed two thousand feet above the Mojave Desert,
they practiced docking and splitting up repeatedly, and after two hours,
began flying attack patterns over the dunes. / ·sªº Godphoenix ±q¤º³¡¨S¦³¬Ý°_¨Ó¦p¦¹Ãa,Ryu
¥²¶·©Ó»{, ¦ý¬O¤£¦b¥~¤jÁnªº¡C ·í¥L©M¨ä¾lªÌº¥ý¤w¸g¿h¨£¥L̪º·s¨®½øªº®ÉÔ¡A¤w¸g¦³¤@¨ÇÃzµo¡A¦ý¬O²{¦b¨CÓ¤H¬O¤U¨Ó¹ï¥Í·N¡C ¦b¨µ¯è¦b Mojave
¨Fºz¤W±ªº³t«×¤G¤d§`¡A¥L̽m²ß¾p¤J²î¶õ©M¤ÀÂ÷¦b«½Æ¦a¤W±, ©M¦b¤G¤p®É¤§«á,¶}©l¸¦b¨F¥C¤Wªº§ðÀ»¨å«¬¡C
The G-forces tore at Ken as he brought the Eagle Sharp into a steep power
climb, scorching toward the stratosphere. The ungainly little craft withstood
his anger well and granted him far more access to the open sky than his
old G-1 jet. Gradually his temper eased. By the time they had docked and
headed home to G-Town, his attitude was that of grudging surrender. /
G- ·í¥L±aÆN°ª½Õ¶iÀI®mªº¤O¶q¤§¤ºªº®ÉÔ¡Ax¶¤¦bªÖ®¦¼¹¯}Ãkµn,¹ï©ó¦P·Å¼hªº§ËµJ¡C Ãø¬Ýªº¤p¸¾÷ withstood ¥Lªº©Á«ã¶W¹L¥LªºÂ G-1
¼Q®g¾÷´é¥X¦Ó¥B¤¹³\¤F¥L¹ï¶}©ñªº¤ÑªÅ§ó¦hªº³q¸ô¡C ³vº¥¦a¥LªºµÊ®ð½w©M¡C ·í¥L̤w¸g¦b®a°±ªy¦Ó¥B«e¶i¨ì G ªº®ÉÔ-«°Âí,¤£±¡Ä@ªº©ñ±ó¥LªººA«×¬O¨º¡C
We'll settle for this... for now. / §Ú̱N¬°³o¦w¹y¡C¡C¡C ²{¦b¡C
Despite the obvious expense of the furnishings, the chamber carried the
atmosphere of a cheap Hollywood boudoir. Velvet curtains concealed the
metal seams in the walls. A giant crystal chandelier swung gently as the
craft encountered turbulence. A glass of merlot sat beside cut crystal
bottles of perfume on a large antique dressing table. A pale-skinned woman
sat before the mirror. Strange, catlike eyes regarded her reflection as
she worked a brush through her unruly mane of blonde hair. / ¤£¦b¥G®a¨ãªº©úÅã¶O¥Î¡A·|ij«Ç¶Ç¹F¤F«K©yªº¦nµÜ¶õ»Ó©Ðªº¤j®ð¡C
¤ÑÃZµ³ªº±bÁôÂäFÀð¾Àªºª÷ÄÝ»sªºÁ_¦X½u¡C ·í¸¾÷¹J¨ì¤F³ÙÄÛªº®ÉÔ¡A¤@ÓÃe¤jªº¤ô´¹¦Q¿O³vº¥¦a·nÂ\¡C ¤@ªM merlot ¦b¤Á®ÇÃ䧤¤ô´¹¦b¤@±i¤jªºÂ¦¡¬ï¦ç®à¤l¤Wªº»¤ô²~¤l¡C
¤@Ó¬]Äæé¥Öªº¤k¤H¦bÃè¤l¤§«e§¤¡C ©_©Çªº, ¹³¿ßªº²´·ú§â¦oªº¤Ï¬Mµø¬°¦o¸g¹L¦oªº¥Õ¦âÀY¾vªºÃø±±¨îªºÃO¤ò¾Þ§@¤F¨ê¤l¡C
A knock sounded at the door before it slid open to reveal a Galactor guard
in his traditional green uniform. / ¤@¦¸¦b¥¦«eªºªù³QÅ¥ slid ªººV¥´¶}Åã¥Ü¥Lªº¶Ç²Îºñ¦âªº¨îªA¤@Ó Galactor
¦u½Ã¡C
"What is it?" the woman said. Her voice was too deep to be feminine.
/ "¥¦¬O¤°»ò"? ¤k¤H»¡¡C ¦oªºÁnµ¬O¤Ó²`¦ÓµLªk¬O¤k©Êªº¡C
"GelSadora-sama," he said, "Eric Getz's replacement has
been prepared." / "GelSadora-sama",¥L»¡ ",¦ã¤O§J Getz's
ªº´À´«¤w¸g³Q·Ç³Æ".
The woman kept her back to the guard, but regarded him through the mirror,
her face expressionless. "What about the missile?" / ¤k¤H§â¦o«O«ù¦^¦u½Ã,
¦ý¬O«µøªº¥L¸g¹LÃè¤l, µLªí±¡ªº¦oÁy¡C "¸¼u«ç»ò¼Ë"?
"It will be ready in four days." / "¥¦¦b¥|¤Ñ¤¤±N·Ç³Æ¦n " ¡C
"Hmm." She lifted the wine glass, sipped thoughtfully. The guard
at the door tensed as if ready to bolt at the first sign of her displeasure.
But she wasn't displeased now; they had plenty of time. She liked that
kind of nervousness in her troops. / "Hmm". ¦oÁ|°_¤F°sªM,²`«ä¦a°ã¶¼¡C ¦u½Ã¦bªù©Ôºò¦n¹³¹w³Æ¦b¦oªº¤£§Ö¼Öªº²Ä¤@ӲŸ¹¬¦í¡C
¦ý¬O¦o¤£³Q²{¦b±o¸o; ¥L̦³¤F³\¦h®É¶¡¡C ¦o³ßÅw¦oªºx¶¤¨ººØ¯«¸gºò±i¡C
"Shall we eliminate Getz now?" he asked. / "§Ú̱N²{¦b°£¥h Getz
¶Ü"? ¥L°Ý¡C
"Not yet. The ISO has not yet responded to our actions and Getz might
contact them at any time." Her lip curled before she took another
sip. "We don't want them to suspect." / "¤£¬O¤´µM¡C °ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¨S¦³¦^À³§Ú̪º¦æ°Ê¡A¦Ó¥B
Getz ÀH®É¥i¯à³sµ¸¥LÌ¡C"¦b¦o±a¤F¥t°ã¶¼¤§«e , ¦oªº®B§Ë±²¡C "§Ṳ́£·Qn¥LÌÃhºÃ" ¡C
"As you wish." The guard bowed and the door closed behind him.
/ " ·í§AÄ@". ¦u½ÃÅs¸y¡A¦Ó¥BªùÃö³¬¦b¥L«á±¡C
The new general of Galactor chuckled lowly. Things were proceeding perfectly.
The ISO had grown complacent and sloppy in their two years of peace, and
now it was time for them to pay. Once her agent led the Kagaku Ninjatai
to their demise, she would personally count down the rocket that would
take out ISO headquarters, then follow up with the destruction of the
ISO's undersea fortress. The rest of Galactor's takeover would be child's
play. / Galactor ªº·s¤W±N¦ì¸m§C¤Uªº¦Y¦Y¯º¡C ¨Æª«¥¿¦b§¹¥þ¦aµÛ¤â¶i¦æ¡C °ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¤w¸g¦b¥L̪º¤G¦~©M¥¤è±Åܺ¡¨¬ªº©M³Q¼â¤ô§ËÀã¡A¦Ó¥B²{¦b¥L̤ä¥Iªº®É¶¡¨ì¤F¡C
¤@¥¹¦oªº¥N²z¤H¤Þ¾É Kagaku Ninjatai ¨«¦V¥L̪º²×¤î,¦o±N·|¿Ë¦Û¦apºâ¤U¨Ó±N·|®³°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´Á`³¡ªº¤õ½b,µM«á¥H°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ªº®ü±¤Uªº«°³ù¯}Ãa°lÂÜ¡C
Galactor's ªº±µºÞ¨ä¾lªÌ±N·|¬OµL¿×ªº¤p¨Æ¡C
Finished with her hair, she reached for the mask and headpiece sitting
on the dresser. Time for a bit of fun. / ¥Î§¹¦oªºÀY¾v,¦o¤Î©ó¦b¤Æ§©¥x¤Wªº°²±¨ã©M²¯®y¦ì¦w±Æ¡C ¤@ÂI¼Ö½ì®É¶¡¨ì¤F¡C
Joe noticed the tension the moment he arrived in London. An air of apprehension
lay heavy in the air like an electrical charge, and everybody felt it.
Pedestrians moved quickly down the sidewalks, eyes shifting constantly.
Drivers fidgeted at traffic lights. No one spoke or lingered in one place
for more than they could help; all were eager to finish their business
and get out of the line of fire. It reminded him of the years when political
factions held the city hostage with an endless barrage of bombings. Only
now, with the two years of peace, there was no reason to feel this way.
/ ³ìª`·Nºò±i¤ù¨è¥L©è¹FÛ´°¡C ²z¸ÑªºªÅ®ð©ñ¸m«ªº¦bªÅ®ð¤¤³ßÅw¤@¶µ¹qªº¶O¥Î,¦Ó¥B¨CÓ¤H³£·Pı¤F¥¦¡C «Ü§Ö¦a³Q²¾°Êªº¦æ¤HåP¸¨¤H¦æ¹D¡A¤£Åܦa§ïÅÜ
ªº²´·ú¡C ¦b¥æ³q¸¹»x¿Oªº¾r¾pû fidgeted¡C ¨S¦³¤H¦b¤@Ó¦a¤è¤¤»¡©Î³r¯d¬°¶W¹L¥LÌ¥i¥HÀ°§U; ¥þ³¡¼ö¤Á©ó§¹¦¨¥L̪º¥Í·N¦Ó¥BÂ÷¶}¤õ½u¡C
¥¦¨Ï¥L·Q°_¬Fªv¹Î¬£¥ÎÃz¬µªº¤@ӥõL¤î¹Òªº¼u¹õ®³µÛ«°¥«¤H½èªº¼Æ¦~¡C ¥u¦³²{¦b¡AÂǥѤG¦~ªº©M¥¡A¨S¦³²z¥Ñ³o¼Ë·Pı¡C
Joe could feel the eyes on him as he moved down the streets toward the
university, hunched in a raincoat and under an umbrella. There was no
reason to think anyone would recognize him, but the back of his neck prickled
insistently. Joe kept his eyes straight ahead and his pace rapid, and
tried to look like he knew where he was going. All the while he stretched
his senses to their limits searching for signs of trouble. / ·í¥L¹ï©ó¤j¾Çªuµó¹D¦V¤U²¾°Êªº®ÉÔ¡A³ì¥i¥H·Pı¦b¥L¤Wªº²´·ú,¦b¤@Ó«B¦ç¤¤©M¦b¤@¤ä³Ê¤§¤UÅs¸y¾mI¡C
¨S¦³²z¥Ñ»{¬°¡A¥ô¦ó¤H±N·|»{ÃÑ¥L¡A¦ý¬O¥Lªº²ä¤lI±°í«ù¦a¨ë¡C ³ì¦V«e¦aµ§ª½¦a«O«ù¤F¥Lªº²´·ú©M¥Lªº³t«×¨³³tªº, ¦Ó¥B¸ÕµÛ¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¥L¤@¼Ëª¾¹D¤F¥Ln¥hþ¸Ì¡C
©Ò¦³ªº¤@·|¨à¥L¦ù®i¤F¹ï¥L̪º¨î°w¹ï³Â·Ðªº²Å¸¹·j´Mªº¥L·Pı¡C
London was familiar enough. Joe had studied the maps on the flight over,
memorized the addresses he needed, and he had been here once or twice
with the Team years ago. As long as he kept his mouth shut, he could pass
for a native. He projected that image hard as he passed through the campus,
surrounded by students on their way to class. Getz's apartment was on
the other side of the campus, just outside the boundaries and two blocks
down. Not that Joe expected to find him there, but maybe there would be
some clues about his situation. / Û´°°÷¼ô±xªº¡C ³ì¤w¸gµ²§ô¾Ç²ß¦b¸¦æ¤Wªº¦a¹Ï,°O¦í¤F¥L»Ýnªº¦í§}, ¦Ó¥B¥L¤w¸g¦b³o¸Ì¤@¦¸©Î¨â¦¸©M¤p²Õ¼Æ¦~¥H«e¡C
¥un¥L«O«ù¤F¥LªºÃö¤W¼L,¥L¥i¥H³Q¬Ý§@¬O¤@Ó¥»¦a¤H¡C ·í¥L³q¹L®Õ¶éªº®ÉÔ¡A¥L§V¤O¦apµe¤F¨º¤@Ó¼v¹³,¦b«e©¹¯Z¯Åªº³~¤¤³Q¾Ç¥Í¥]³ò¡C Getz's
ªº¤½´J¦b®Õ¶éªº¥t¤@Ã䤺,¥u¬O¥~±ªºÃä¬É©M¤GӰϬqåP¸¨¡C ¤£¬O¨º³ì´Á±æ¦b¨º¸Ìµo²{¥L, ¦ý¬O¤]³\±N·|¦³Ãö©ó¥Lªº±¡§Î¤@¨Ç½u¯Á¡C
The neighborhood was old, a little shabby, but with the chic, artsy air
of a place the cognoscenti had made their own. Joe stopped at a coffee
shop, ordered a cup of Colombian and sat in a corner not far from a window
that looked out on Getz's building. The windows in his old apartment were
dark, which Joe expected. There were shadows lurking in the stairwells,
which Joe also expected. It was a good sign: Getz was still alive. / ¾Fªñ¦a°Ï¬Oªº¡Mµy·L¯}Äê,
¦ý¬O¥Ñ©ó§O½oªº´Ú¦¡,cognoscenti ¤w¸g°µ¥L̦ۤvªº¤@Ó¦a¤èªº artsy ªÅ®ð¡C ¦b¤@®a©@°Ø©±³Q°±¤îªº³ì, ¦b¤@ÓÂ÷¤@®°¦b Getz's
ªº«Ø¿vª«¤W¤p¤ßªºµ¡¤á¤£«Ü»·ªº¨¤¸¨¤¤©R¥O¤F¤@ªMôÛ¤ñ¨È¤H¦Ó¥B§¤¡C µ¡¤á¦b¥LªºÂ¤½´J¤¤«Ü¶Â·t,¨º¤@Ó³ì´Á±æ¡C ¦³¦b¼Ó±è¤«¤¤¼çÂà ªº¼v¹³,³ì¤]´Á±æ¡C
¥¦¬O¤@Ó¦n²Å¸¹: Getz ¤´µM¬¡µÛ¡C
Dr. Kaga grumbled as he climbed into the back of his car--three in the
morning was not the most favorable time to travel. But he needed to be
cautious, and this was the only time he could determine he wasn't being
watched and followed. In the space of the past two months, twenty noted
researchers and ninety two military experts had disappeared without a
trace, and Kaga was frightened enough by the news reports and the sensation
of being watched, that he was willing to leave his work behind and take
cover in an ISO-sponsored safe haven until this weird phase blew over.
/ ·í¥L«æ¦£¦a¬ï¤W¥Lªº¨T¨®I±ªº®ÉÔ¡A Kaga ³Õ¤h©D§u-- ¤T¦b¦±á¤£¬O³Ì¦³§Qªº®É¶¡®È¦æ¡C ¦ý¬O¥L»Ýn¬OÂÔ·Vªº¡A¦Ó¥B³o¬O°ß¤@ªº¤@¦¸¥L¥i¥H¨M©w¥L¨S¦³¦b³Q¬Ý¦Ó¥B¸òÀH¡C
¦b¹L¥h¤GӤ몺ªÅ¶¡¤¤¡A¤G¤QÓµÛ¦Wªº¬ã¨s¤Hû©M¤E¤Q¤GÓx¨Æ±M®a¤£»Ýn²ª¸ñ´N¤w¸g®ø¥¢¡A¦Ó¥B Kaga ³Q·s»D³ø§i©M³Q¬Ýªº·PıÅåÀ~¥R¨¬¤F,ª½¨ì©Ç²§ªº¶¥¬q§jË¡A¥L¼Ö·N¦b¤@Ó°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ÃÙ§Uªº¦w¥þ´ä¤f¤¤§Ñ°O¥Lªº¤u§@¦Ó¥B®³±»Å@¡C
The highway rushed by, and with no traffic to dodge and very little by
way of scenery, the steady movement and drone of the engine lulled the
professor into a doze. He missed the odd red light on the horizon, missed
the distant rumble of engines until it was too late. / ¤½¸ô¶Ê«P³Q, ©M¥Ñ©ó¨S¦³¥æ³qÁ׶}¦Ó¥B«D±`¤ÖÂǵ۷´ºªº¤è¦¡¡Aéwªº¹B°Ê©M¤ÞÀºªº¶¯¸Á¥®§¤F±Ð±Â¶i¤J¤@¤§¤º¥´½OºÎ¡C
¥L¿ù¹L¤F©_¼Æªº¬õ¿O§Y±N , ¿ù¹L¤F¤ÞÀºªº»·¶©¶©Ánª½¨ì¥¦¤Ó±ß¡C
A flash of bright light nearly blinded the driver, and he hit the brakes
hard, but managed to keep the car from skidding over the nearest guardrail.
The light subsided, and the driver stared dumbfounded through the front
windshield. / °{¥ú©ú«Gªº»´¸Ë¦a´X¥Gª¼¤H¤F¾r¾pû,¦Ó¥B¥L¨Ï·Ù¨®¤j¨ü¥´À», ¦ý¬O³]ªk¦b³ÌªñªºÅ@Ä椧¤W¨Ï¨T¨®¤£«b¨®¡C ¥ú¥®§¡A¦Ó¥B¾r¾pû¸g¹L«e±ªº¾×·¬Á¼þª`µøÀ~¡C
Seeing the tall and strangely robed figure that stood in the center of
the road before them, Kaga immediately thought they were the victim of
a prank. Angrily he yanked the door latch, shoved the back door open and
climbed out. "Just what in the hell do you--" / ¬Ý¨£¨º°ªªº¦Ó¥B©_§®¦a¬ïµÛªø³T¦b¥LÌ«eªº¦b¹D¸ôªº¤¤¤ß¤¤¯¸¥ßªº¼Æ¦r,Kaga
¥ß¨è·Q¤F¥L̬O´c§@¼@ªº¨ü®`¤H¡C ¼««ã¦a¥L±j©Ô¤Fªùªù¬,±ÀÀ½¤F«áªù¤½¶}¨Ã¥Bª¦¥X¡C " ¨s³º¤°»ò¦b¦aº»¤è±°µ§A--"
"Dr. Kaga." The voice was deep and oddly inflected. "Step
away from the car." / "Kaga ³Õ¤h". Ánµ¬O²`ªº¨Ã¥B©_§®¦aÅs¦±¡C "¦æ¨«»·Â÷¨T¨®"
¡C
"What?" / "¤°»ò"?
"Get away!" The voice raised in pitch so that it was almost
feminine. Kaga saw the gun and leaped back just as the strange figure
fired. The car was enveloped in light, and briefly he heard the driver
scream before both driver and car evaporated. The air filled with the
stink of burning metal. / "°kÂ÷"! Ánµ¦b³»ÂI¤¤¤É°_¡A¥H«K¥¦´X¥G¤k©Ê¡C ·í©_©Çªº¼Æ¦rÂI¿Uªº®ÉÔ¡A
Kaga ¦V«á¦a¥¿¦p¬Ý¨£¤Fºj¦Ó¥B¸õÅD¡C ¨T¨®¦b¥ú¤¤³Q«H«Ê¡A¦Ó¥B²µu¦a¦b¾r¾pû©M¨T¨®»]µo¤§«e , ¥LÅ¥¨ì¾r¾pû¦y¥sÁn¡C ªÅ®ð¸Ëº¡¿U¿Nªºª÷Äݯä¨ý¡C
Chuckling, the bizarre woman-thing pointed toward the night sky. The last
thing Kaga saw was a red shape that grew into a great revolving disk and
blasted him with a beam of white light. Then his consciousness left him.
As the saucer vanished into the night sky, all that remained of the car
and driver blew from the highway in a cloud of dust. / ¦Y¦Yªº¯º,©_²§ªº¤k¤H-¨Æª«±µªñ©]±ß¤ÑªÅ«ü¡C
³Ì«á¨Æª« Kaga ¬Ý¨£¬O¶i¤J¤@ӴΪº°jÂàºÏºÐ¤ù¤§¤º¦¨ªøªº¬õ¦â§Îª¬¡A¦Ó¥B¥Î¥Õ¦âªº¥ú¥ú½u³d½|¥L¡C µM«á¥Lªº·NÃѯd¤U¤F¥L¡C ·í¯ùºÐ¶i¤J©]±ß¤ÑªÅ¤§¤º®ø¥¢ªº®ÉÔ,¨T¨®©M¾r¾pû«O«ùªº¥þ³¡±q¤@¤j°ï¦Ç¹Ðªº¤½¸ô§j¡C
His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears as he listened to the phone ring
on the other end. Then the receiver was picked up and a woman's voice
said, "Hello?" / ·í¥LÅ¥¨ì¹q¸Ü¦b¥t¤@ºÝ¤Wªº§Ù«ü®ÉÔ¡A¥Lªº¤ß¸õ¤jÁn¦a¦b¥Lªº¦Õ¦·¤¤«¥´¡C µM«á±µ¦¬¾¹³Q³vº¥«ì´_¡A¦Ó¥B¤k¤HªºÁnµ»¡,"«¢Åo"?
"Mako," he said. / "Mako",¥L»¡¡C
"Getz! I was just leaving." In the distance he could hear keys
jingling. "Can't wait to see you." / "Getz! §Ú¥¿¦b¶È¶ÈÂ÷¶}¡C"
¦b»»»·¤§³B¥L¥i¥HÅ¥¨ì½Õµ§@¥m¾´Án¡C "µ¥¤£¤În¨£§A" ¡C
"Me neither." / "§Ú¤]¬O".
"You really meant what you said last time?" Her voice turned
sly. "I wasn't just imagining things, right?" / " §A¯uªº·N¿×§A¤W¦¸»¡ªº"?
¦oªºÁnµÅܬ¾·âªº¡C "§Ú¤£¥¿¦b¶È¶È·Q¹³¨Æª«,¹ï¤£¹ï"?
"Would I do that to you?" / "§Ú±N·|°µ¨ºµ¹§A¶Ü"?
"You might. Listen, the more time I spend on the phone, the later
I get there." "I know. I just wanted to confirm when we meet."
/ " §A¥i¯à¡C Å¥, §ó¦hªº®É¶¡§Ú¥´¹q¸Üªá¶O, ¤ñ¸û¿ð¤H§Ú¨ì¨ºùØ¡C""§Úª¾¹D¡C ·í§Ú̹J¨£ªº®ÉÔ¡A§Úèè·Qn½T©w¡C"
"The Prince Hotel, two o' clock, right? Why aren't we meeting at
your place?" / "¤ý¤l®ÈÀ],¤G o'®ÉÄÁ,Åv§Q? ¬°¤°»ò¦b§Aªº¦a¤è¤£¬O§ÚÌ·|ij?"
He smiled fiendishly, his mouth quirking in a perfect imitation of Eric
Getz's. "That's a surprise." / ¥L·L¯º¤F fiendishly ¡A¥Lªº¦b¦ã¤O§J Getz's
ªº¤@Ó§¹¬üªº¼Ò¥é¤¤©_¨Æ ªº¼L¡C "¨º¬O·N¥~" ¡C
"Looking forward to it, mister." / "´Á±æ¥¦,¥ý¥Í".
"Me too. Ride safely." / " §Ú¡A¤]¡C ¦w¥þ¦aÃM¡C"
"Love you." / "·R§A" ¡C
"You too." / " §A¡A¤]".
She hung up. / ¦o±¾Â_¡C
Richard Gant set down the receiver, took a deep breath and sighed. The
agent sitting across the table shut off the tape recorder. "Nice
job." / ²z¬d Gant ©ñ¤U±µ¦¬¾¹, §@¤F²`ªº©I§l¦Ó¥B¼Û®§¡C ¾î¹L§¤®à¤lªº¥N²z¤HÃö³¬¿ýµ¾÷¡C "¬ü¦nªº¤u§@".
"It was a good thing she was in a hurry." Gant touched his throat.
"The cutters did good work, but she would have twigged in a few more
minutes." It still spooked him to look in a mirror and see another
man's face, but Galactor's compensation was excellent, and the opportunity
couldn't be missed. / " ¤@¥ó¦n¨Æª«ªº¬O¦o¥^¦£" ¡C Gant ¸IIJ¤F¥Lªº«|³ï¡C " µô°ÅªÌ°µ¤F¦n¤u§@¡A¦ý¬O¦o±N·|¦b¦A¹L´X¤ÀÄÁ¤º¤w¸gª`·N"
¡C ¥¦¤´µMÅåÀ~¤F¥L¶¶«K±´³X¤@±Ãè¤l¦Ó¥B¬Ý¨£¥t¤@Ó¨k¤HªºÁy¡A¦ý¬O Galactor's ªº¹S³Ò¬OÀu¨}ªº¡A¦Ó¥B¾÷·|¤£¥i¥H³Q¿ù¹L¡C
"We got what we need. The little bastard can't ditch us forever."
/ "§Ú̱o¨ì¤F§ÚÌ»Ýnªº¡C ¤p¨p¥Í¤l¥Ã»·¦a¤£¯à©ß±ó§ÚÌ¡C"
Gant smirked. "Sounds personal." / Gant ¼H¼H°µ¯º¡C "Å¥°_¨ÓÓ¤H"
¡C
"I don't like being made to look like a fool. He's been running my
men around the city for days, but we don't know where he's staying. This
way we get a positive sighting and keep it until the orders come."
/ "§Ú¤£³ßÅw³Q°µ¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤@Ó·M¤H¤@¼Ë¡C ¥L¤w¸g¦b«°¥«ªº©P³ò¶]§Úªº¨k¤Hªø¹F¼Æ¤Ñ¤§¤[¡A¦ý¬O§Ṳ́£ª¾¹D¥L¥¿¦b°±¯dªº¦a¤è¡C ª½¨ì¦¸§Ç¨Ó¡A³o¼Ë§Ú̱o¨ì¤@Ó¿n·¥ªº¿h¨£¨Ã¥B«O¦s¥¦¡C"
"And Headquarters never knew." / "¦Ó¥BÁ`³¡±q¤£ª¾¹D" ¡C
"And never will." The other man's eyes met Gant's and narrowed
menacingly. Gant's smirk widened. / " ¦Ó¥B±q¤£¨M·N". ¥t¤@Ó¨k¤Hªº²´·ú«Â¯Ù¦a¸I¨ì¤F
Gant's ¦Ó¥BÁY¤p¡C Gant's ªº¼H¼H¯ºÂX¤j¡C
"So when do we get rid of him?" / " ©Ò¥H§Ú̦ó®É§K°£¥L"?
"Depends on when the ISO wants you back. Til then I suggest you watch
your step. Lots of sharks out here." / "·í°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´§â§A·Qn¦^¨Óªº®ÉÔ¡A¥õ¿à¡C
J³ÂµM«á§Ú«Øij§A¬Ý§Aªº¨BÆJ¡C ³\¦hÃT³½¥X¦Û¦b³o¸Ì¡C"
Gant deliberately turned his back on the other man, moved to the window
and lit a cigarette. Perhaps later, once he had gotten what he wanted
out of the ISO stronghold and his accolades ran down, those threats would
mean something. / ¬G·N¦aÂà¦b¥t¤@Ó¤Wªº¥LI³¡ªº Gant ¬°, °t³Æ¤H¤â²¾¨ìµ¡¤á¦Ó¥BÂI¿U¤F¤@®Ú»·Ï¡C µy«á¤]³\¡A¤@¥¹¥L¤w¸g±o¨ì¥L©Ò·QnÂ÷ªº¡A°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´n¶ë©M¥LªºªZ¤hÀï¦ìªº±Â¤©¶]¤U¨Ó,¨º¨Ç«Â¯Ù±N·|·N¿×¬Y¨Æ¡C
The intercom buzzed and a red light came on: top priority. Nambu picked
up the telephone receiver and punched a combination into the keypad to
complete the connection. "This is Nambu." / ¹ïÁ¿¾¹µo¥X¶ä¶äÁn¡A¦Ó¥B¤@Ó¬õ¿Oµo¥Í
: ¶W¶VÀu¥ýÅv¡C Nambu ±µ¸ü¹q¸Ü±µ¦¬¾¹¦Ó¥B¥H®±«À»¤@Ó²Õ¦X¶i«öÁä°Ï¤§¤º§¹¦¨³s±µ¡C "³o¬O Nambu" ¡C
"Professor." Chief Anderson's voice sounded old and very tired.
/ "±Ð±Â". ¥Dnªº¦w¼w»¹ªºÁnµÅ¥°_¨Ó«Üªº©M«D±`¯h²Ö¡C
"Chokan. It's starting again." / "Chokan¡C ¥¦¦A¤@¦¸¶}©l¡C"
"Yes. The UN Security Council will convene at noon tomorrow. I would
like you to attend." / "¬Oªº¡C Áp¦X°ê¦w¥þ²z¨Æ·|©ú¤Ñ¦b¤¤¤È±N¥l¶°¡C §Ú·Qn§A°Ñ¥[¡C"
"Yes. I'll be there." / "¬Oªº¡C §Ú±N¦b¨º¸Ì¡C"
"Good. We need your advice now, more than ever." / "¦nªº¡C
§Ú̲{¦b»Ýn§Aªº©¾§i, ¶W¹L´¿¸g¡C"
Anderson hung up. Nambu pressed the hook button, then pressed a red hotline
button. "Julia, call back Eric Getz. If he arrives, watch him closely."
He pressed the hook, then another button. "Chief Kamo." / ¦w¼w»¹±¾Â_¡C
À£¹_«ö¶sªº Nambu,µM«á«ö¤F¤@Ó¬õ¦âªº¼ö½u«ö¶s¡C "¯ü²ú¨È , ©I¥s¦^¦ã¤O§J Getz ¡C ¦pªG¥L¨ì¹F,ÄY±K¦a¬Ý¥L¡C"¥L«ö¤F¹_,
µM«á¥t¤@Ó«ö¶s¡C "¥Dnªº Kamo".
"Hakase." / "Hakase".
"What's the latest on Easton Island?" / "¦b Easton ®q¤Wªº³Ìªñ¬O¤°»ò"?
"Best contact we've had yet. Confirmed sightings of both the wreckage
and Galactor soldiers on the beaches. Sir, I'm concerned that it might
be a little too obvious." "I understand. Stand by on this."
Nambu hung up and folded his hands on his desk, staring at the bank of
viewscreens on the opposite wall of his office. He shared Kamo's concerns.
After months of maddening secrecy, the enemy operation could be intended
as a snare. But the UN would leave him no choice. / "§Ṳ́w¸g¤´µM¦³ªº³Ì¦n³sµ¸¡C
½T»{¤F¦b®üÅy¤Wªº´Ý¾l©M Galactor x¤H¨âªÌªº¿h¨£¡C ¥ý¥Í,§Ú³Q±¾¼{¥¦¥i¯à¦³ÂI¨à©úÅã¡C""§Ú¤F¸Ñ¡C ¦b³o¤§¤W¯¸¦b®Ç¡C"Nambu
±¾Â_¨Ã¥BºPÅ|¦b¥Lªº®Ñ®à¤Wªº¥L¤â,¨nµÛ¦b¥Lªº¿ì¤½«Çªº¬Û¤ÏÀð¾À¤Wªº viewscreens ªº»È¦æ¬Ý¡C ¥L¤À¨É¤F Kamo's ªºÃö¤ß¡C ¦b¼ÆӤ몺¥O¤Hµo¨gªº¯µ±K¤§«á¡A¼Ä¤H¤â³N¥i¯à¬O¦³·Nªº¦p¤@Ó³´¨À¡C
¦ý¬OÁp¦X°ê±N·|¯d¤U¥L¨S¦³¿ï¾Ü¡C
To Be Continued / ¬OÄ~Äòªº
¡m¦^¤W¤@¶¡n
|