THE STAKES / ½äª`
Wendy Dinsmore (chronic1@2xtreme.net) / ·Å¸¦ Dinsmore(chronic1@2xtreme.net)

Author's Note: This story takes place during the events halfway through Gatchaman Fighter, when trouble crops up with Gatchaman's newest weapon. For more on this series, click here. / §@®aªºªþµù: ·í³Â·Ð¥H Gatchaman's ³Ì·sªºªZ¾¹«_¥Xªº®É­Ô³o¤@­Ó¬G¨Æ¦b¨Æ¥ó´Á¶¡¸g¹L Gatchaman °«¤h¥b¸ô¦aµo¥Í¡C ¹ï©ó¦b³o¨t¦C¤Wªº§ó¦h,¦b³o¸Ì «ö¡C

How long has it been? Joe wondered as he drove through the tiny gate and down the gravel road that led to Ken's private airstrip. When did I last come here? A year ago? Two? Before that? Little had changed. There were more weeds poking through the gravel and the buildings were a bit run-down, perhaps. They had all been too busy lately to see to their "normal" lives, so Ken couldn't be blamed for that. / ¦h¤[¥¦¬O? ·í¥L¶}¨®¹L·¥¤pªºªù®É­Ô¡A³ìÃhºÃ©M¤U¨Ó¾É­PªÖ®¦ªº¨p¤H­¸¾÷¶]¹Dªº¸H¥Û¹D¸ô¡C §Ú¦ó®É³Ì«á¨Ó³o¸Ì? ¤@¦~¥H«e? ¤G? ¦b¨º¤§«e? ¤@ÂIÂI¤w¸g§ïÅÜ¡C ¦³¼·¶}¹L¸H¥Û©M«Ø¿vª« ªº§ó¦hÂø¯ó¬O¤@ÂIÂI¨ë±þ¥X§½,¤]³\¡C ¥L­Ì¥þ³¡¤w¸gªñ¨Ó¤Ó¦£¸Lªº³B²z¥L­Ìªº "±`ºA" ¥Í©R¡A¦]¦¹¡AªÖ®¦¤£¥i¥H¦]¬°¦Ó³Q³d³Æ¨º¡C
The sun was setting and Joe could see lights burning in the tiny shack Ken had once used as home and office--he was expected. Again Joe wondered what Ken had called him out here for. He couldn't recall any special occasions or anniversaries. Briefings were done in G-Town. And besides, the Team had routed the Syndicate barely three days ago, leaving both Egobossler and Mechandol to fume and lick their wounds back at Saturn Forhen Castle. If only the Team could break through their defenses and finish them off before they regained enough strength for the next attack. Before more bystanders had to suffer... but Joe had pursued this argument for years, and he was getting tired of it. He was more than ready to leave it to Ken, who had more energy and more clout. As a matter of fact, Ken's patience was getting as short as Joe's had been a few years ago--and Joe had several uncomfortable suspicions as to why. / ¤Ó¶§¥¿¦b¤U¨I¡A¦Ó¥B³ì¥i¥H¬Ý¨£¦b·¥¤pªº¤p«ÎªÖ®¦¤¤¿U¿N ªº¥ú´¿¸g¤w¸g¨Ï¥Î·í®a©M¿ì¤½«Ç--¥L³Q´Á±æ¡C ¦A¤@¦¸³ìÃhºÃ¤FªÖ®¦¤w¸g¥l³ê¥L³o¸Ìªº¡C ¥L¤£¥i¥H¨ú®ø¥ô¦óªº¯S§O³õ¦X©Î¶g¦~¡C ²³ø¦b G ³Q°µ-«°Âí¡C ¦Ó¥B¦¹¥~¡A¤p²Õ¤w¸g¦b¤T¤Ñ¥H«e´X¥G¨Ï¥ø·~Áp¦X¼ì±Ñ, ¯d¤U Egobossler ©M Mechandol ¦b¤g¬P Forhen «°³ùÂt¦Ó¥B§â¥L­Ìªº³Ð¶Ë»Q¦^¨Ó¡C ¦pªG¥u¦³¦b¥L­Ì¬°¤U¤@­Ó§ðÀ»¨ú¦^¤F¥R¨¬ªº¤O¶q¤§«e , ¤p²Õ¥i¥H¨«¶}¬ð¯}¥L­Ìªº¨¾½Ã©M§¹¦¨¥L­Ì¡C ¦b§ó¦hªº®ÇÆ[ªÌ¥²¶·¾D¨ü¤§«e¡C¡C¡C ¦ý¬O³ì¤w¸g°l¨D³o¤@­Óª§½×ªø¹F¼Æ¦~¤§¤[¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¥¿¦b¹½­Â¥¦¡C ¥L­n¹ïªÖ®¦¯d¤U¥¦¡A¦Ó¥B³o¤@­ÓªÖ®¦¦³¤F§ó¦hªº¯à·½©M§ó¦hªººVÀ»¡C ¨Æ¹ê¤W¡AªÖ®¦ªº­@©Ê¬O±o¨ì¹³³ì¤@¼Ëµu¤w¸g¬O¼Æ¦~¥H«e-- ¦Ó¥B³ì¦³¤F¤@¨Ç¤£µÎªAªº²qºÃÃö©ó¬°¤°»ò¡C
Whatever the reason for this meeting, it was personal. None of the others' vehicles were in evidence--only Ken's bike standing beside the hangar where he still kept a small racing plane. Joe parked his car beside the hangar and walked to the house. Keeping his expression neutral, he rapped his knuckles on the door. / ¥ô¦óªº³o¤@­Ó·|ijªº²z¥Ñ,¥¦¬O­Ó¤Hªº¡C ¨S¦³¤@½ø¨ä¥L¨®½ø¬O¦bÃÒ¾Ú¤¤--¦b¥L¤´µM«O«ù¤F¤@­Ó¤pªºÄvÁÉ­¸¾÷ªº­¸¾÷®w®ÇÃ䯸¥ß ªº°ß¤@ªÖ®¦ªº¸}½ñ¨®¡C ³ì°±¨®¤F¦b­¸¾÷®w®ÇÃ䪺¥L¨T¨®¦Ó¥B¨«¸ô¥h©Ð¤l¡C «O¦s¥Lªºªí¹F¤¤¥ßªÌ,¥L»´ºV¤F¦bªù¤Wªº¥L«ü¸`¡C
A second later, the door opened to reveal Ken grinning at him. "Right on time," he said cheerfully. "Come in." The shack hadn't changed either, simple and utilitarian, with its tiny office with its lone desk and radio immaculately organized. On the small kitchen table were two glasses and a deck of cards. Ken gestured toward one of the chairs. "Have a seat." / ¤@¬í¤§«á¡Aªù¥´¶}Åã¥Ü¦b¥LÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º ªºªÖ®¦¡C " ·Ç®É¥¿½T¦a" ¡A¥L°ª°ª¿³¿³¦a»¡¡C "¶i¨Ó" ¡C ¤p«Î¤]ÁÙ¥¼§ïÅÜ, ²³æªº¦Ó¥B¥\§Q½×ªÌ,ÂǥѦ³¥¦ªº©t³æ®Ñ®à©M¦¬­µ¾÷ªº¥¦·¥¤pªº¿ì¤½«ÇµL¦Ã«¯¦a²Õ´¡C ¦b¤pªº¼p©Ð®à¤l¤W¬O¤G°Æ²´Ãè©M¥d¤ùªº¥ÒªO¡C ªÖ®¦¹ï©ó´È¤l¤§¤@§@¤â¶Õ¡C "§¤" ¡C
"What's this all about?" Joe asked. / "³o¥þ³¡¬O¤°»ò"? ³ì°Ý¡C
"In a minute." Ken closed and locked the door. "Just relax. There's no activity being reported and we can do nothing but wait for the ISO to throw the ball again." Bitterness tinged Ken's voice, but by the time he turned back to Joe, the anger had vanished. He went to the refrigerator and opened the door, and Joe blinked when he saw what was inside. Instead of the usual bare wire shelves and the lonely carton of orange juice that was usually growing some kind of fuzzy substance, Joe found the tiny fridge stocked to capacity with tall 36-ounce bottles of beer. "Black label okay?" / "¦b¤ÀÄÁ¤¤". ªÖ®¦Ãö³¬¨Ã¥BÂêªù¡C "¶È¶È©ñÃP¡C ¨S¦³³Q³ø§i ªº¬¡°Ê¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú­Ì¯à¤°»ò¤]¤£°µ¦ý¬Oµ¥­Ô°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¦A¤@¦¸¥á²y¡C"­W¨ý·L¬V¤FªÖ®¦ªºÁn­µ¡A¦ý¬O·í¥L¹ï³ì§é¦^ªº®É­Ô,©Á«ã¤w¸g®ø¥¢¡C ·í¥L¬Ý¨£¦b¸Ì­±ªºªF¦è®É­Ô¡A¥L¥h¹q¦B½c¦Ó¥B¥´¶}¤Fªù¡A¦Ó¥B³ì¯w²´¡C ¥N´À¥­±`ªº¨ª»r¹q½u¸Ë¬[©M³q±`¥¿¦b¼W¥[¼Ò½kª«½è¡A³Qµo²{·¥¤pªº¹q¦B½c¹ï©M°ªªº 36 ¯s¥q²~ªº°à°s¯à¤O¶i³fªº³ì¤@¨ÇÃþ«¬ªº¾ï¤l¥Äªº©t³æµw¯È²°¡C " ¶Â¦âªº¼ÐÅÒ¦n"?
"'S fine." Joe's eyes narrowed. It was his favorite brand, and it wasn't cheap. Ken himself wasn't finicky about what he drank, as long as he didn't have to pay for it. / "'S »@´Ú". ³ìªº²´·úÁY¤p¡C ¥¦¬O¥Lªº³ß·R°Ó¼Ð¡A¦Ó¥B¥¦¤£¬O«K©yªº¡C ªÖ®¦¥L¦Û¤v¤£¬O¬D­çÃö©ó¥L©Ò³Üªº¨Æ, ¥u­n¥L¨S¦³¶·¤ä¥I¥¦ªº¶O¥Î¡C
Ken opened a bottle and reached across the table to fill his partner's glass. When he finished, Joe filled his. Joe noted the formal Japanese style, where drinking partners see to each other's glass and make sure it's never empty. The practice encouraged drinking hard, though someone who timed it right and distracted his partner enough could get him to drink twice as much. Ken's objective couldn't be to get him drunk, could it? / ªÖ®¦¥´¶}¤F¤@¤ä²~¤l¦Ó¥B¨ì¹F¾î¹L®à¤l¸Ëº¡¥Lªº¦X¹Ù¤Hªº¬Á¼þ¡C ·í¥L§¹¦¨ªº®É­Ô, ³ì¸Ëº¡¥Lªº¡C ³ìª`·N¤F¥¿¦¡ªº¤é¥»­·®æ, ³Ü¦X¹Ù³B²z©¼¦¹¬Á¼þ¦Ó¥B½T©w¥¦±q¤£¬OªÅªº¡C ½m²ß§V¤O¦a¹ªÀy¤F³Ü,ÁöµM©w®É¤F¥¦Åv§Q¡A¦Ó¥B¤À¤ß¥Lªº¦X¹Ù¤H¥R¨¬ªº¬Y¤H¥i¥H³o»ò¦h±o¨ì¥L³Ü¨â¦¸¡C ªÖ®¦ªº¥Øªº¤£¥i¥H¬O±o¨ì¥L³Ü¾K¤F,¬O¶Ü ?
Ken lifted his glass in a toast for the first round. / ªÖ®¦¹ï©ó²Ä¤@­Ó¦^¦X¦b¤@¤ù¤g¥qÄÑ¥]¤¤Á|°_¥Lªº¬Á¼þ¡C
"So give," Joe said as he refilled Ken's glass. "What's this all about? And don't tell me it's just a friendly little get-together." / "¦p¦¹µ¹",·í¥L¦A±NªÖ®¦ªº¬Á¼þª`º¡¤Fªº®É­Ô¡A³ì»¡¡C "¥þ³¡¤j¬ù³o¬O¤°»ò? ¦Ó¥B¤£§i¶D§Ú¥¦¥u¬O¤@­Ó¤Í¦nªº¤pÁpÅw·|¡C"
Ken smiled, and a halo all but popped into view above his head. "Actually it is," he admitted. "Mostly." He picked up the pack of cards and began to shuffle them. Joe watched the cards flip smoothly through his fingers. One of Ken's few vices was that he was a card sharp. Joe had learned long ago, after long evenings at local bars or intervals in the ISO waiting for orders or results, that challenging his leader at Poker, Blackjack or Five Card Stud was a major mistake if he wanted to keep his shirt. Even Old Maid wasn't safe. "Gin okay?" Ken asked. / ªÖ®¦·L¯º¡A¦Ó¥B¤@­Ó·w½ü´X¥G¶i¤Jµø³¥¤§¤º¨ú¥X¥L©Ò¤£À´ªº¡C "¹ê»Ú¤W¥¦¬O",¥L©Ó»{¡C "¤j³¡¥÷". ¥L¬B°_¸s¥d¤ù¦Ó¥B¶}©l©ì¦²¥L­Ì¡C ³ì¥­·Æ¦a¸g¹L¥Lªº¤â«ü¬Ý¥d¤ù­»²¢¿S°s¡C ªÖ®¦ªº«Ü¤Ö´c²ß¤§¤@¬O¡A¥L¬O¤@±i¥d¤ù°ª½Õ¡C ³ì«Ü¤[¥H«e¤w¸g¾Ç²ß, ¦bªøªº±ß¤W¤§«á¦bµ¥­Ô ªº°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¤¤ªº¦a¤è°s§a©Î¶¡¹j¸Ì¬°¦¸§Ç©Îµ²ªG, ¨º¦b¼³§JµP¡A 21ÂI©Î¤­­Ó¥d¤ù¹Ï°v¬D¾Ô¥Lªº»â³S¬O¤@­Ó¥D­nªº¿ù»~¦pªG¥L·Q­n«O¦s¥LªºÅ¨­m¡C ¬Æ¦Ü¦Ñ³B¤k¤£¬O¦w¥þªº¡C " µ^°s¦n"? ªÖ®¦°Ý¡C
"You called me all the way out here to play cards?" Joe burst out. / "§AºÙ§Ú¬°©Ò¦³ªº¥X¸ô³o¸Ìª±µP"? ³ìÃzµõ¥X¡C
"Aa." Ken's expression hinted that there was more, but he'd decided to draw it out, and there was no way to force him until he was ready. "Gin okay?" / "Aa". ªÖ®¦ªºªí¹F·t¥Ü¦³§ó¦h¡A¦ý¬O¥L±N·|¨M©w¨Ï¥¦©ì©µ , ¦Ó¥B¨S¦³¤èªk±j­¢¥Lª½¨ì¥L·Ç³Æ¦n¡C " µ^°s¦n"?
Gin... Joe didn't have a snowball's chance in hell at that game, but... / µ^°s¡C¡C¡C ³ì¦b¨º¤@³õ¤ñÁɦb¦aº»¤è­±¨S¦³³·²yªº¾÷·|,¦ý¬O¡C¡C¡C
"All right." / "¦nªº" ¡C
Ken shuffled again and dealt the cards. Joe watched them hit the table, but made no move to pick them up. When Ken was done, Joe glared holes into his face until he returned the stare. / ªÖ®¦¦A¤@¦¸©ì¦²¦Ó¥B³B²z¤F¥d¤ù¡C ³ì¬Ý¥L­Ì³Q¥´®à¤l, ¦ý¬O¨S»s³y²¾°Ê±µ¸ü¥L­Ì¡C ·íªÖ®¦³Q°µªº®É­Ô,³ìµo¯t¥ú¬}¶i¥LªºÁy¤§¤ºª½¨ì¥LÂkÁÙª`µø¡C
"What are the stakes?" Joe asked. / "½äª`¬O¤°»ò"? ³ì°Ý¡C
The new smile that spread across his face was far from angelic. / ¥]¬A¥LªºÁy·s·L¯º¤@ÂI¤]¤£¤Ñ¨Ïªº¡C
"Answers. The loser has to answer any question he's asked." / "µª®×¡C ¥¢±ÑªÌ¥²¶·¦^µª¥L¤w¸g°Ýªº¥ô¦ó°ÝÃD¡C"
Joe frowned. "Such as?" / ³ì½K¬ÜÀY¡C " ¦p¦¹ªº·í°µ"?
"You remember what today is?" / " §A°O±o¤°»ò¤µ¤Ñ¬O"?
"Should I?" / " À³¸Ó§Ú"?
Ken's smile faded. "Today's the anniversary of the day you came back to us, in the desert, after two years that we spent believing you were dead," he said. "Do you remember what you told me then? You said that someday, after things had blown over and we were in a quiet bar somewhere, you would explain everything." / ¤w¿Æ¦âªºªÖ®¦·L¯º¡C " ¤µ¤Ñªº¨º¤Ñ¶g¦~§A¦^¨ì§Ú­Ì,¦b¨Fºz¤¤, ¦b¤G¦~¤§«á§Ú­Ìªá¶O¬Û«H¡A§A¦º",¥L»¡¡C "§A°O±o§AµM«á§i¶D¤F§Úªº¶Ü? §A»¡¦³¤@¤Ñ, ¦b¨Æª«¤§«á¤w¸g§j¦b¦Ó¥B§Ú­Ì¬Y³B¦b¦wÀR¤è­±¬O°s§a,§A±N·|¸ÑÄÀ¨C¥ó¨Æª«¤§¤W¡C"
"And?" / "¦Ó¥B"?
"That was four years ago. I've tried to ask you about it, but you've always dodged me. Now your big secret isn't anymore, and things have blown over as much as they're going to. This is the quietest place I know of. You have no reason to back out." / "¨º¦b¥|¦~¥H«e¡C §Ú¤w¸g¹Á¸Õ¦V§A¸ß°Ý¥¦¡A¦ý¬O§AÁ`¬O¤w¸gÁ׶}§Ú¡C ²{¦b§Aªº¤j¯µ±K¤£¬O¤£¦A¡A¦Ó¥B¨Æª«¤w¸g¹³¥L­Ì¥¿¦b¥h¤@¼Ëªº¦h§j­Ë¨ì¡C ³o¬O§Úª¾¹Dªº³Ì¦wÀRªº¦a¤è¡C §A¨S¦³²z¥Ñ¥´°h°ó¹ª¡C"
Joe sipped his beer and stared at him for a moment, eyes troubled. Ken stared back, unconsciously holding his breath. In the old days Joe would have exploded at the very idea of being maneuvered into revealing personal information. He could still storm out of here and evade the whole issue. / ³ì°ã¶¼¤F¥Lªº°à°s¦Ó¥B¨nµÛ¥L¬Ý¤@·|¨à, ²V¶Ãªº²´·ú¡C ªÖ®¦¦V«á¦aª`µø,µL·NÃѦa«Ì®§¥H«Ý¡C ¦bªº¼Æ¤Ñ¤¤³ì·|¦b¶i¤J´¦ÅS­Ó¤Hªº¸ê®Æ¤§¤º§@¬° maneuvered ªº³Ì·QªkÃz¬µ¡C ¥L¥i¥H¤´µMÂ÷¶}³o¸Ì°_­·¦Ó¥B°kÁ×¾ã­ÓªºÄ³ÃD¡C
"So if I win," Joe said. "You also have to answer anything I ask." / "©Ò¥H¦pªG§Úűo",³ì»¡¡C "§A¤]¥²¶·¦^µª§Ú°Ýªº¥ô¦ó¨Æ" ¡C
"Right." / "Åv§Q".
"All right," Joe told him. "On two conditions." / "¦nªº",³ì§i¶D¤F¥L¡C "¦b¤GºØ±¡ªp¤W".
Ken let his breath out, and Joe had to grin at that. "What are they?" / ªÖ®¦©ñ¥X¥Lªº©I§l¡A¦Ó¥B³ì¥²¶·¦b¨ºÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C "¥L­Ì¬O¤°»ò"?
"That an answer can't be an evasion." / " ¨º¤@­Óµª®×¤£¥i¯à¬O¤@­Ó°kÁ×".
Ken's face lit up--surely his friend was digging his own grave. "And?" / ªÖ®¦ªºÁyµo«G¦b-¤W­±-·íµM¥LªºªB¤Í¥¿¦b«õ¥L¦Û¤vªº¹Ó¥Þ¡C "¦Ó¥B"?
"And what you hear doesn't leave this room." / "¦Ó¥B§AÅ¥¨ìªº¤£Â÷¶}³o¤@­Ó©Ð¶¡" ¡C
"Agreed." / "¦P·N" ¡C
They looked at their cards. A few draws and two glasses later, Ken won the first hand. He stacked the cards and handed them to Joe to shuffle. "What's the first question?" Joe asked. / ¥L­Ì¬Ý¥L­Ìªº¥d¤ù¡C ¤@¨Ç¥­§½©M¤G°Æ²´Ãèµy«á¡AªÖ®¦¾Æ±o¤F²Ä¤@°¦¤â¡C ¥L°ï¿n¤F¥d¤ù¦Ó¥B§â¥L­Ì¥æµ¹³ì©ì¦²¡C "²Ä¤@­Ó°ÝÃD¬O¤°»ò"? ³ì°Ý¡C
"What did you do those two years that we thought you were dead?" / " §A°µ§Ú­Ì·Q§A¦ºªº¨º¨Ç¤G¦~¤°»ò"?
Joe had been expecting this one. He shuffled, hands moving quickly and deftly with the cards, but without Ken's finesse. "I spent my time recovering mostly, getting used to the change in lifestyle. I spent six months or so building back my skills before Rafael sent me out to enjoy myself. I couldn't go back to racing, and I couldn't sit still, so I went after the remnants of the Syndicate, grinding them back into the dirt. Remember the gang wars?" Ken nodded. "Then X landed. I tried breaking into the installations, but there wasn't much I could do alone." / ³ì¤w¸g´Á«Ý³o¤@­Ó¡C ¥L©ì¦²,¶Ç»¼«Ü§Ö¦a¦Ó¥B±Ó±¶¼ô½m¦a¥H¥d¤ù²¾°Ê, ¦ý¬O¨S¦³ªÖ®¦ªººë±K§Þ¥©¡C "§Ú«×¹L§Úªº®É¶¡¤j³¡¥÷§ä¦^¡A²ßºD©ó¦b¥Í¬¡¤è¦¡¤è­±ªº§ïÅÜ¡C ¦b Rafael °e¥X§Ú¨É¨ü§Ú¦Û¤v¤§«e , §Ú«×¹L¤F¤»­Ó¤ë¥ª¥k«Ø¿vª«­I­±§Úªº§Þ³N¡C §Ú¤£¥i¥H¦^¥hÄvÁÉ¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú¤£¥i¥H§¤¦n¡A¦]¦¹¡A§Ú°l¨D¥ø·~Áp¦Xªº³Ñ¾l,¶i¤J¦Ã«¯¤§¤º§â¥L­Ì¿i¦^¨Ó¡C °O±o¶¤¾Ôª§?"ªÖ®¦ÂIÀY¡C "µM«á X µn³°¡C §Ú¹Á¸ÕÂô¤J¦w¸Ë, ¦ý¬O¨S¦³«Ü¦hªº§Ú¥i¥H¿W¦Û¦a°µ¡C"
"What were you recovering from? I thought you said that you felt fine when Rafael revived you." / "§A¥¿¦b«ì´_¤°»ò? §Ú·Q¡A§A»¡¡A·í Rafael ¨Ï§Aµd¿ô¤Fªº®É­Ô¡A§Aı±o¦n¡C"
"That's another question," Joe said, and dealt the cards. / "¨º¬O¥t¤@­Ó°ÝÃD",³ì»¡, ¦Ó¥B³B²z¤F¥d¤ù¡C
"That's part of the original question," his partner protested, emptying the rest of the bottle into their glasses. / "¨º¬O³Ìªìªº°ÝÃD³¡¥÷",¥Lªº¦X¹Ù¤H¤Ï¹ï,²MªÅ²~¤lªº¨ä¥¦³¡¤À¶i¥L­Ìªº²´Ã褧¤º¡C
"It'll cost you another hand." Joe grinned nastily. / "¥¦±Nªá¶O§A¥t¤@°¦¤â" ¡C ³ì¦Ã©¦aÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C
"Okay. Gin." / "¦n¡C µ^°s¡C"
"What? Bullshit!" Ken showed him his cards, and it was the Gatchaman's turn to smile. "That was fast," Joe groaned. / "¤°»ò? ­J»¡!"ªÖ®¦µ¹¥L¬Ý¥Lªº¥d¤ù, ¦Ó¥B½ü¨ì Gatchaman's ·L¯º¡C "¨º¬OÂN§Ù",³ì©D§u¡C
"So answer the question." / "¦p¦¹¦^µª°ÝÃD" ¡C
Joe picked up the empty beer bottle in his left hand, wrapped his fingers around the middle and squeezed. Ken started as the bottle cracked, then shattered, dropping shards on the wooden floor. Joe tightened his grip and worked his fingers, and there was the sound of grinding glass. When he opened his hand, nothing remained of the bottle but the glittering brown powder in his palm. / ¬B°_ªÅªº°à°s¥Lªº¥ª¤â²~¤lªº³ì,¦b¤¤¥¡ªº©P³ò¥]¸Ë¥Lªº¤â«ü¨Ã¥Bºò´¤¡C ³Q¶}©l¦p³Q§Ë¸Hªº²~¤lªÖ®¦,µM«á¥´¸H,­°§C¦b¤ì»sªº¦aªO¤Wªº¸H¤ù¡C ³ì°Çºò¤F¥Lªººò´¤¦Ó¥B¤u§@¥Lªº¤â«ü, ¦Ó¥B¦³¿iªº¬Á¼þÁn­µ¡C ·í¥L¥´¶}¤F¥Lªº¤â®É­Ô, ¨S¨Æ²~¤l«O«ù°£¤F¨º¤§¥~ÀéÄê¥Lªº¤â´x½Å¦â¯»¡C
"I had this kind of strength," Joe said, "and no control. I could run, but I couldn't walk. I couldn't pick anything up without breaking it. I tore up the lab a lot." He got up and dumped the broken glass into a nearby trash can, then pulled a fresh bottle from the fridge. Ken's eyes followed him uneasily. Joe normally avoided any display of his unusual strength. He had adjusted to his rebirth as a cyborg with some troubled setbacks, but now usually ignored his condition. Jun and Ryu accepted it with their usual flexibility. Jinpei thought it was cool and would ask questions for hours if the others let him. But any reminder of Joe's loss of humanity made Ken uncomfortable, as if the slightest loss in familiarity had set him adrift; as if he felt he had failed his friend in some way by permitting it to happen. Joe had a point to prove with this little show--maybe it was a warning not to pry into areas that would make them both uncomfortable. / "§Ú¦³¤F³oºØ¤O¶q",³ì»¡ ", ©M¨S¦³±±¨î¡C §Ú¥i¥H¶]¡A¦ý¬O§Ú¤£¥i¥H¨«¸ô¡C §Ú¨S¦³¥´¯}¥¦¤£¥i¥H¬B°_¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡C §Ú«D±`¼¹·´¹êÅç«Ç¡C" ¥L°_§É¦Ó¥B¶É¨øÃa±¼ªº¬Á¼þ¶i¤@­Óªþªñªº©U§£±í¤§¤º,µM«á©Ô¤F¨Ó¦Û¹q¦B½cªº¤@¤ä·sÂAªº²~¤l¡C ªÖ®¦ªº²´·ú¤£¦w¦a¸òÀH¤F¥L¡C ³ì¥¿±`¦aÁקK¤F¥ô¦óªº¥L¤£´M±`ªº¤O¶q®iÄý¡C ¥L¤w¸g¥H¤@¨Ç²V¶Ãªº®À§é½Õ¾ã¨ì¥Lªº¦A¥Í¦p cyborg, ¦ý¬O²{¦b³q±`©¿²¤¤F¥Lªº±¡ªp¡C ¤»¤ë©M Ryu ¥Î¥L­Ìªº¥­±`¼u©Ê±µ¨ü¥¦¡C Jinpei ·Q¡A¦pªG¨ä¾lªÌÅý¥L¡A¥¦«Ü²D²n¦Ó¥B±N·|°Ý°ÝÃDªø¹F¼Æ¤p®É¤§¤[¡C ¦ý¬O¥ô¦óªº³ì¤H©Êªº·l¥¢´£¿ôªº¤H¨ÏªÖ®¦¤£µÎªA,¦n¹³¿Ë±Kªº³Ì·L¤pªº¥¢±Ñ¤w¸gº}¬y¦a³]©w¥L; ¦n¹³¥L·Pı¥L¤w¸gÂǥѤ¹³\¥¦µo¥Í¦b¤@¨Ç¤èªk¤¤©ß±ó¥LªºªB¤Í¡C ³ì¦³¤FÂI¥H³o³õ¤pªíºtÃÒ©ú--¤]³\¤£¶i¤J±N·|¨Ï¥L­Ì¨â­Ó¤£µÎªAªº°Ï°ì¤§¤º¥´Å¥¬O¤@­Óĵ§i¡C
"Go ahead and deal." / "¥h¦V«e¦a¦Ó¥B³B²z" ¡C
Ken dealt, studied his hand and drew a card. Joe did the same, scowled at it and drew again. This game lasted slightly longer than the previous two, but came to its inevitable conclusion. / ªÖ®¦³B²z, ¾Ç²ß¤F¥Lªº¤â¦Ó¥B©Ô¤@±i¥d¤ù¡C ³ì°µ¤F¤@¼Ëªº,¦b¥¦½K¬ÜÀY¦Ó¥B¦A¤@¦¸©Ô¡C ³o¤@³õ¤ñÁɸò¥ý«e¤H¤ñ°_¨Ó¨Ç·L¦a¤ñ¸û¤[«ùÄò¤G, ¦ý¬O±o¨ì¥¦ªº¤£¥iÁקKªºµ²½×¡C
"Gin." / "µ^°s".
"Dammit again!" / " Dammit ¦A¤@¦¸"!
Ken pulled out a third bottle before he asked his question. Joe was still rock steady, but Ken was starting to feel the effects of the beer. There was a strange gleam in his eyes as he spoke. / ¦b¥L°Ý¤F¥Lªº°ÝÃD¤§«e , ªÖ®¦©Ô¥X¤@¤ä²Ä¤T¤ä²~¤l¡C ³ì¤´µM¬O©¥¥Û©wºA¡A¦ý¬OªÖ®¦¶}©l·Pı°à°sªº®ÄªG¡C ·í¥L»¡ªº®É­Ô¡A¦³¥Lªº²´·ú©_©Çªº·L®z°{¥ú¡C
"You told me about Getz and what happened at Easton Island. But what about the info drop on the old San Frangelis prison and then the gunfight in New Jork?" They had discussed this shortly after Joe's return--the mysterious informant that had dropped news tapes on the ISO and later turned up to pull the Team out of an exploding enemy base; and the gunman who had strafed an attacking squad of Gallactors from a mini-copter in a New Jork street. Joe had never given him or Dr. Nambu a clear answer. / " §A§i¶D§ÚÃö©ó Getz ©M¤°»ò¦b Easton ®qµo¥Í¡C ¦ý¬O¸ê°T«ç»ò¼Ë¦bªº®áªe Frangelis ºÊº»¤W­°§CµM«á·sªº Jork ªººj¾Ô?"¥L­Ì¤w¸g¦b³ìªº¦^ªð¤§«á¤£¤[°Q½×³o--¤w¸g­°§C¦b°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´¤Wªº·s»D¿ý­µ±a¦Ó¥Bµy«á¥X²{§â¤p²Õ±q¤@­ÓÃz¬µ¼Ä¤H©Ô¥X¨Ó°ò¦ªº¯«¯µ³qª¾ªÌ; ¦Ó¥B¦³¤F strafed Gallactors ªº¤@­Ó§ðÀ»¤p¶¤ªººj¤â±q¤@°g§A-¦b¤@±ø·sªº Jork µó¹D¤¤ªº copter¡C ³ì±q¥¼µ¹¥L©Î Nambu ³Õ¤h¤@­Ó²M·¡ªºµª®×¡C
"That was all my doing," he admitted. "Rafael provided the information, though I did lift some from the ISO. Jun taught me some of the access codes and tricks a few years ago, but I think Dr. Nambu was starting to suspect at the time, and was letting me tap into the files." / "¨º¬O§Ú©Ò¦³°µ",¥L©Ó»{¡C "Rafael ´£¨Ñ¤F¸ê®Æ,ÁöµM§Ú±q°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´°µ¤F¤@¨ÇªºÁ|°_¡C ¤»¤ë±Ð§Ú¤@¨Ç³q¸ô±K½X¨Ã¥B¼Æ¦~¥H«eÀ¸§Ë¡A¦ý¬O§Ú»{¬° Nambu ³Õ¤h¦b¨º®É¶}©lÃhºÃ, ¦Ó¥B¥¿¦b¶i¤JÀɮפ§¤º¨Ï§Ú»´¥´¡C"
Ken shook his head, smiling. "Thought it had to be you. Thought it wasn't my mind playing tricks on me." / ªÖ®¦·nÀY,·L¯º¡C " ·Q¥¦¥²¶·¬O§A¡C ·Q¥¦¤£¬O§Úªº¶}§Úª±¯º ªº¤ß¡C"
"Well, somebody had to save your butt. You pulled some really stupid stunts." Joe's words came out more belligerently than he had intended, and Ken bristled. / "¶â¡A¬Y¤H¥²¶·¸Ñ±Ï§Aªº·ÏÀY¡C §A©Ô¤F¤@¨Ç¯uªº·MÄø¯S§Þ¡C"³ì©Ò»¡ªº¸Ü¥X¨Ó¤ñ¥L§ó¦n¾Ô¡A¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦­è¤ò¡C
"What do you mean?" / " §A·N¿×¤°»ò"?
"Easton Island. I was in the control bubble when you flew your plane through the skylight. I got the hell out. Going in once I could understand, but when you went in there a second time as they were closing the blast shields... I thought you knew better than to fire a missile in an enclosed, shielded area." / "Easton ®q¡C ·í§A¸g¹L¤Ñµ¡­¸¤F§Aªº­¸¾÷®É­Ô¡A§Ú¬O¦b±±¨î¤¤ªwªj¡C §Ú¨Ï¦aº»¥~­±ªº¡C ¶i¤J¡A¤@¥¹§Ú¥i¥H¤F¸Ñ, ¦ý¬O·í·í¥L­Ì¥¿¦bÃö³¬¯e­·¨¾¿mª«ªº®É­Ô , §A¶i¤J¦b¨º¸Ì²Ä¤G­Ó¦¸ªº®É­Ô¡C¡C¡C §Ú·Q§A¤£·|¶Ì¨ìµo®g¤@­Ó­¸¼u¦b¤@³Qªþ¤W,¾B½ª°Ï°ì¡C"
Ken's cheeks went pink and he looked away. "Guess my timing was off." / ªÖ®¦ªºÀUÅܯ»¬õ¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¬ÝÂ÷¶}¡C " ²q´ú§Úªº®É¶¡ÂI¬O¨«¶}".
"Your goddamn brain was off. If I hadn't pulled you out of that plane, you would've fried." Joe had said some other things at the time of the rescue. Fortunately, Ken hadn't been awake to hear them. / "§Aªº°Q¹½¸£¬O¨«¶}¡C ¦pªG§Ú¤£¦³§â§A±q¨º¤@­Ó­¸¾÷©Ô¥X¨Ó, §A would've ªo¬µ¡C"³ì¤w¸g¦b´©±Ïªº®É­Ô»¡¤@¨Ç¨ä¥Lªº¨Æª«¡C ©¯¹B¦a¡AªÖ®¦¤£¤w¸g¬O¿ôªºÅ¥¨ì¥L­Ì¡C
"Well, I don't have exclusive license for pulling damnfool stunts," Ken growled, then tossed back more beer. Joe refilled his glass, then shuffled and dealt the cards, leaving his own drink untouched. "I remember a certain incident on a mountain in the Himalayas, and you nearly took Jun with you." / "¶â¡A§Ú¬°©Ô damnfool ¯S§Þ¨S¦³¿W®aªº°õ·Ó",ªÖ®¦«ã§p,µM«á¦V«á¦a§ëÂY§ó¦hªº°à°s¡C ³Q¦A±N¥Lªº¬Á¼þª`º¡ªº³ì,µM«á©ì¦²¦Ó¥B³B²z¤F¥d¤ù,Åý¥L¦Û¤vªº¶¼®Æ¥¼Ä²¤Îªº¡C "§Ú°O±o³ß°¨©Ô¶®¤sªº¦b¤@®y¤s¤Wªº¤@­Ó¯S©wªº¨Æ¥ó¡A¦Ó¥B§A´X¥G©M§Aªá¤»¤ë" ¡C
It was Joe's turn to look away. "Touche," he murmured. / ½ü¨ì³ì¬ÝÂ÷¶}¡C "»¡±o¹ï",¥L§C»y¡C
"Gin." / "µ^°s".
"Shit--already? What the hell is your system?" / "©Ô«Ë--¤w¸g? §Aªº¨t²Î¬O¤°»ò?"
"It's a secret," Ken smiled, any upset over their argument gone. "Ready for the next question?" / "¥¦¬O¤@­Ó¯µ±K",ªÖ®¦·L¯º,¦b¥L­Ìªº¤£¨£¤Fªºª§½×¤Wªº¥ô¦ó¥[²`®Ø¡C "¬°¤U¤@­Ó°ÝÃD¹w³Æ"?
No, Joe thought. All the easy questions had been asked. / ¤£¡A³ì·Q¡C ©Ò¦³ªº®e©ö°ÝÃD¤w¸g³Q°Ý¡C
"Why did you take two years to come back to us? Why did you run and hide?" / "§A¬°¤°»òªá¤G¦~¦^¨ì§Ú­Ì? §A¬°¤°»ò¶]¦Ó¥BÂÃ?"
Carefully Joe stacked the cards and laid them aside. "I didn't run away." / ¤p¤ß¦a³ì°ï¿n¤F¥d¤ù¦Ó¥B«O¯d¥L­Ì¡C "§Ú¨S¦³°k¨«" ¡C
"The hell you didn't. You lurked in the shadows, afraid to show your face even though we knew you were there, and we called to you." / " ¦aº»§A¨S¦³¡C §A¦b¼v¹³¤¤¼çÂÃ, ®`©ÈÅã¥Ü§AªºÁy§Y¨Ï§Ú­Ì»{ÃÑ¡A§A¦b¨º¸Ì¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú­Ì¹ï§A©I¥s¡C"
The Condor's expression went dark at the accusation. "If I'd just suddenly appeared, popped up here or in the Snack Jun or at Nambu's mansion, would you have taken me back?" he snarled. "After all the spies that had tried to convince you they were your father, even though we watched him take off in that missile to stop the V-2 Plan? Would you have taken me back?" / ¨rÆNªºªí¹F¦b«ü±±Åܶ·t¡C " ¦pªG§Ú¶È¶È¬ðµM¤w¸g¥X²{, ¦b³o¸Ì©Î¦b¤p¦Y¤¤¥X²{¤»¤ë¡A§_«h¦b Nambu's ªº¤j·H¡A¤£¬O¶Ü¤w¸g§â§Ú±a¦^¨Ó"? ¥L§q¥s¡C " ¦b©Ò¦³ªº¤w¸g¹Á¸Õ¨Ï§A¬Û«Hªº¶¡¿Ò¤§«á¥L­Ì¬O§Aªº¤÷¿Ë,§Y¨Ï§Ú­Ì¬Ý¥L¦b¨º¤@­Ó­¸¼u¤¤°_­¸°±¤î V-2 ­p¹º? §A±N·|¤w¸g§â§Ú±a¦^¨Ó¶Ü?"
Ken said nothing, and his calm blue eyes didn't waver as he stared into his second's face. For a moment, the Gatchaman surfaced, forcing his second to stand down and reconsider. Joe suddenly realized that he was leaning across the table with his fists clenched. Easing back to his chair, Joe lowered his voice and answered for him. / ·í¥L¶i¤J¥Lªº¬íÁy¤§¤ºª`µøªº®É­Ô¡AªÖ®¦¤°»ò¤]¤£»¡¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªº¥­ÀRÂŦ⪺²´·ú¨S¦³°Ê·n¡C ¤@·|¨à¡A Gatchaman ¤É¦Ü¤ô­±, À£­¢¥Lªº¬íÃ㾦ӥB¦A¦Ò¼{¡C ³ì¬ðµM¤F¸Ñ¥L¥¿¦b¶V¹L©M¥Lªº³Qºò´¤ªº®±ÀY®à¤l¶É±×¡C ¦V«á¦a½w©M¨ì¥Lªº´È¤l,³ì­°§C¤F¥LªºÁn­µ¦Ó¥B¬°¥L­t³d¡C
"Not if you're smart. You would've hung back. Dr. Nambu would've insisted on tests, DNA check, the whole routine, and he would've found all the hardware. Then what? I would've been grounded, placed under suspicion by all of you, and there would've been further tests to go under while the rest of you went on your missions alone. Hell, at the time, I didn't know all of what Rafael had put in here." Joe thumped his chest. "I was suspicious of myself!" / "¤£¦pªG§A¬OÁo©úªº¡C §A would've ¦V«á¦a¦Q¡C Nambu ³Õ¤h would've °í«ù´ú¸Õ¡A DNA Àˬd¡A¾ã­Óªº¨Ò¦æ¤½¨Æ, ©M¥L would've µo²{©Ò¦³ªºµwÅé¡C µM«á¤°»ò? §Ú³Q¸m©ó¦a­±ªº would've,§A¦b¥þ³¡ªº²qºÃ¤§¤U©ñ¸m, ©M¬O¶i¤@¨Bªº´ú¸Õ¨º¸Ì would've ¥h¦b·í§Aªº¨ä¾lªÌ¿W¦Û¦aÄ~Äò¶i¦æ§Aªº¥ô°È®É­Ô¤§¤U¡C ¦aº», ¦b¨º®É¡A§Ú¨S¦³ª¾¹D¥þ³¡¤°»ò Rafael ¤w¸g¦b³o¸Ì´£¥X¡C"³ì­«¥´¤F¥Lªº¯Ý¡C "§ÚÃhºÃ§Ú¦Û¤v"!
For a long time, the only sound in the room was of crickets chirping in the summer heat outside. Neither man moved. / ¦³«Üªøªº¤@¬q®É¶¡¡A°ß¤@ªºÁn­µ¦b©Ð¶¡¤¤¬O¦b®L¤Ñ¼ö¥~­±§s³å¦Ó»ï ªºÁµÁ¬¡C ¨S¦³¤@­Ó¨k¤H²¾°Ê¡C
"Then why did you come back?" Ken asked finally. / "µM«á§A¬°¤°»ò¦^¨Ó"? ªÖ®¦³Ì«á°Ý¡C
"Hah," Joe said. "You gotta win that out of me. Deal." / "Hah",³ì»¡¡C "§A¥²¶·±q§Úűo¨º¡C ¥æ©ö¡C"
Another ten minutes, then: / ¥t¥~¤Q¤ÀÄÁ,µM«á:
"Gin." / "µ^°s".
"Sonuvabitch! I don't know why I bother!" "I don't know why you bother either," Ken said smugly. "Tell me why you came back." / "Sonuvabitch! §Ú¤£ª¾¹D§Ú¬°¤°»ò·ÐÂZ!""§Ú¤£ª¾¹D§A¬°¤°»ò¤]·ÐÂZ",ªÖ®¦¦Û¥H¬°¬O¦a»¡¡C " §i¶D§Ú§A¬°¤°»ò¦^¨Ó".
Joe growled something foul at him, then stopped to consider what he was going to say. Because we have a common enemy. Because using the ISO's resources would make my job easier. Because I still owed Dr. Nambu for saving my life the first time. Because we work best as a team of five. Because Nambu needed me to launch that Fire Targeter underground, and I was the only one who could have survived what we both knew would happen next. Because I couldn't stand to see the pain on the faces of the only people who really matter. Because the sound of Jun screaming my name ripped my insides out worse than actual bullets could. Because... / ³ì«ã§p¤F¦b¥Lªº¦Ã©¥Ë»\¤WªF¦è, µM«á¶}©l¦Ò¼{¥L±N­n»¡ªº¡C ¦]¬°§Ú­Ì¦³¤@­Ó´¶³qªº¼Ä¤H¡C ¦]¬°¨Ï¥Î°ê»Ú¼Ð·Ç²Õ´ªº¸ê·½±N·|¨Ï§Úªº¤u§@§ó®e©ö¡C ¦]¬°§Ú¤´µM¬°¸`¬Ù§Úªº¥Í¬¡²Ä¤@¦¸Á«¤í¤F Nambu ³Õ¤h¡C ¦]¬°§Ú­Ì¤u§@±o³Ì¦n·í°µ¤@¶¤¤­¡C ¦]¬° Nambu »Ý­n¤F§Úµo®g¡A¤õºË·Ç¦a¤U¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú¬O°ß¤@ªºÀ³¸Ó¥i¥HÄ~Äò¥Í¦s¤°»ò§Ú­Ì­Ç³£ª¾¹DµM«á±N·|µo¥Í¡C ¦]¬°§Ú¤£¥i¥H¯¸¬Ý¨£¦b¯uªº¦³­«¤jÃö«Yªº°ß¤@¤HÁy¤Wªºµh­W¡C ¦]¬°¦y¥s§Úªº³Q§ó§óÃa¦a¶W¹L¯u¹êªº¤l¼u½¹L¨Ó¼¹¶}§Úªº¦W¦r¤»¤ëªºÁn­µ¥i¥H¡C ¦]¬°¡C¡C¡C
"Because I couldn't stay away," Joe said softly. / "¦]¬°§Ú¤£¥i¥HÂ÷¶} ",³ì¬X©M¦a»¡¡C
"Why not?" Ken prompted. / " ¬°¤°»ò¤£"? ªÖ®¦¿EÀy¡C
The thoughtful expression snapped instantly into his old sarcastic glare. "Make a wild guess." / ²`«äªºªí¹F¥ß§Y¦a¶i¤J¥LªºÂ¿ب몺°{Ä£¥ú¤§¤º«rÂ_¡C "»s³y¤@­Ó³¥©Êªº²q´ú" ¡C
"Evasion," Ken declared. "Why not?" / "°kÁ×",ªÖ®¦«Å§G¡C " ¬°¤°»ò¤£"?
Flustered, Joe stuttered for a moment, then recovered with a grin. "How could I stay away with the four of you tripping over everything in sight?" / ¨Ï¹U¾K,³ì¤f¦Y¤@·|¨à, µM«á¥HÅS¾¦¯º§ä¦^¡C "¦bµø¤O¤¤§Ú¥i¥H¦p¦ó¦b¨C¥ó¨Æª«¤§¤W©M§A¤¤ªº¥|­ÓÂ÷¶}²Ì­Ë"?
"Flattery'll get you nowhere." / " Flattery'll µL³B±o¨ì§A" ¡C
"Goddammit, you know fucking well why not!" / "Goddammit, §Aª¾¹D©Ê¥æ±o¦n¬°¤°»ò¤£"!
"I wanna hear you say it. Finish your beer." Ken topped off the glasses. Belligerently Joe tossed his back, and Ken refilled it, lobbed the bottle one-handed into the trash and grabbed another. By this time Ken was truly intoxicated, his words slurring and his face suffused with a rosy glow. / " §Ú·Q­nÅ¥¨ì§A»¡¥¦¡C §¹¦¨§Aªº°à°s¡C"ªÖ®¦¨«¶}¶W¶V²´Ãè¡C ¦n¾Ô¦a³ì§ëÂY¤F¥Lªº­I³¡¡A¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦¦A±N¥¦ª`º¡¤F, ¥´°ª¦ÓºCªº²y²~¤l¤@¶Ç»¼ªÌ¶i©U§£¤§¤º¦Ó¥B§ì¨ú¤F¥t¥~ªº¡C Âǵ۳o¤@­Ó¦¸ªÖ®¦¯u¹ê¦a³Q³³¾K,¥L©Ò»¡ªº¸Ü¯ó²v¦a¬Ý¹L©M¥LªºÁy¥Hª´ºÀ¬õ¦âªº¨ª¼ö¹M§G¡C
Suddenly Joe understood the reason for the beer. Despite the safeguards Rafael had installed to filter out poisons, he was still capable of getting drunk; another assurance of the little bit of humanity he had left. Ken had wanted that; wanted the equal footing and rare emotional freedom the alcohol would provide. And somewhere along the line, Joe's subconscious had realized it and already let down the safeguards. As they emptied the latest bottle together, Joe felt the familiar fuzzy sensation working on the edges of his mind. / ¬ðµM³ì¤F¸Ñ¤F°à°sªº²z¥Ñ¡C ¤£¦b¥G«OÅ@ Rafael ¤w¸g¦w¸Ë¹LÂo¥X¬rÃÄ,¥L¤´µM¯à°÷³Ü¾K¤F; ¤pªº¥L¤w¸g¯d¤Uªº¤H©Ê¤@ÂIÂIªº¥t¤@­Ó«Oµý¡C ªÖ®¦¤w¸g·Q­n¨º; ·Q­n°s±N·|´£¨Ñªº¬Ûµ¥¥ß¨¬ÂI©Mµ}¨uªº±¡ºü¦Û¥Ñ¡C ¦Ó¥B¬Y³BªuµÛ½u, ³ì¼ç¦b·NÃѤw¸g¤F¸Ñ¥¦¨Ã¥B¤w¸g©ñÃPĵ±§¡C ·í¥L­Ì¤@°_²MªÅ¤F³Ìªñªº²~¤l®É­Ô,³ì·Pı¤F¦b¥Lªº¤ßÃä½t¤Wªº¼ô±x¼Ò½k·Pı¤u§@¡C
"Bout time you decided to catch up." Ken tipped the chair precariously toward the fridge, opened the door, snagged a new bottle, and began to topple over. "Aaagh!" He flailed for a moment, then recovered his balance. Joe laughed at the picture he made. He couldn't help it. "Deal the cards," he growled, trying to fight off a grin and failing--his heart wasn't in it. / "¦¸©w®É§A¨M©w°l»°" ¡C ³Q¹ï©ó¹q¦B½c¤£Ã­©w¦a´£¥Ü´È¤lªºªÖ®¦,¥´¶}¤Fªù¡M²Ê¿i¤F¤@¤ä·sªº²~¤l¡M¦Ó¥B¶}©lµ²§ô±À½¡C "Aaagh"! ¥L¥Î³s­{¥´¤@·|¨à, µM«á§ä¦^¥Lªº¥­¿Å¡C ³ì¯º¥L»s³yªº·Ó¤ù¡C ¥L¤£¥i¥HÀ°§U¥¦¡C "³B²z¥d¤ù",¥L«ã§p, ¹Á¸ÕÀ»°hÅS¾¦¯º¦Ó¥B¥¢±Ñ--¥Lªº¤ß¤£¦b¥¦¸Ì­±¡C
Ken shuffled, hands moving like a magician's despite the alcohol. Both men picked up their hands, drew cards, and Ken won again. "Gin." / ³Q©ì¦²ªºªÖ®¦,¶Ç»¼¹³Å]³N®aªº¤@¼Ë¤£¦b¥G°s²¾°Ê¡C ¬B°_¥L­Ìªº¤â¨âªÌªº¨k¤H,¦A¤@¦¸©Ô¥d¤ù , ©MªÖ®¦Áú¹ô¡C "µ^°s".
"What's your next question?" / "§Aªº¤U­Ó°ÝÃD¬O¤°»ò"?
"Tell me why not." / " §i¶D§Ú¬°¤°»ò¤£".
"Goddamn stubborn bastard just won't stop, will you?" / "°Q¹½ªº¹x©T¨p¥Í¤l´N¬O±N¤£°±¤î,§A¤£±N¶Ü"?
Ken laughed. "No." / ªÖ®¦¯º¡C "¸¹½X"
"My glass's empty." / " §Úªº¬Á¼þªÅªº".
Joe emptied two more glasses before Ken prompted him again. "Well? Quit stalling." / ¦bªÖ®¦¦A¤@¦¸¿EÀy¤F¥L¤§«e , ³ì²MªÅ¤F¥t¥~¤G­Ó²´Ãè¡C "´é¥X? Â÷¶}°±¹y¡C"
Joe stared at the tabletop for a long moment before he looked up and met Ken's eyes. "Because I needed you. All of you," he growled. "Satisfied?" / ¦b¥L¬Ý¤§«e , ³ì¬°ªøªº¤ù¨è¨nµÛ®à­±¬Ý¦b¦Ó¥B¤W­±¹J¨£¤FªÖ®¦ªº²´·ú¡C "¦]¬°§Ú»Ý­n¤F§A¡C ¥þ³¡§A,"¥L«ã§p¡C ¨Ï? º¡·N
The silly grin dropped, and Ken nodded solemnly. "I am now." / ·MÄøªºÅS¾¦¯º­°§C¡A¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦ÄYµÂ¦aÂIÀY¡C "§Ú¬O²{¦b" ¡C
"Good. Tell me that tomorrow morning, too." / "¦nªº¡C ¤]©ú¤Ñ¦­±á§i¶D§Ú¨º¡C"
"Aa, listen to you," Ken snorted. "Turned into an old man already? We used to play cards and billiards til dawn back when we were still fighting Katse. You'd drag me to those god-awful bars." / "Aa,Å¥§Aªº¸Ü",ªÖ®¦¼QµÛ®ð§ËÅT»ó¤l¡C "¤w¸gÅܦ¨¤@­Ó¦Ñ¤H? ·í§Ú­Ì¤´µM¥¿¦b¹ï§Ü Katse ªº®É­Ô§Ú­Ì¹L¥h¤@ª½§âµP©M¼²²y­J³Â¯}¾åª±¦^¨Ó¡C §A±N·|©ì©Ô§Ú¨ì¨º¨Ç¯«- ¥i©Èªº°s§a¡C"
"And you'd pull that Boy Scout act of yours and make everyone think you were a sucker. Then you'd clean house. We'd wind up fighting all the losers and spend the next day sick as dogs." / "¦Ó¥B§A±N·|©Ô§Aªº¨º¤@­Óµ£¤l­x¦æ¬°¦Ó¥B¨Ï¨C­Ó¤H»{¬°¡A§A¬O¤@­Ó§lºÞ¡C µM«á§A±N·|²M²z©Ð¤l¡C §Ú­Ì±N·|µ²§ô¾Ô°«©Ò¦³ªº¥¢±ÑªÌ¦Ó¥B«×¹L¹j¤Ñ¯f¤H¦pª¯¡C"
"Wasn't it great?" / " ¥¦¤£«Ü´Î"?
Joe chuckled at that. "Better than those nights with your pilot friends, all of you up in the ether. I'll bet if someone tied your hands behind your backs, you'd be incapable of carrying on a conversation." / ³ì¦b¨º¦Y¦Yªº¯º¡C "§ó¶W¹L©M§Aªº­¸¦æ­ûªB¤Íªº¨º¨Ç©]±ß¡A§A¥þ³¡³£¦b´£°ª¡C ¦pªG¬Y¤Hô¤F¦b§Aªº­I³¡«á­±ªº§A¤â¡A§Ú±N¥´½ä,§A±N·|Ä~Äò¥æ½Í¬OµL¯à¤Oªº¡C"
Ken grinned, remembering the sweeping gestures he used to describe his adventures in the air. "Yeah, well get a group of motorheads together and tell them they can't use numbers." He lowered his voice in an imitation of Joe's. "'Had a friend with a '68 455 that did the quarter in the low 12's... but not as good as my 389.' Sounded like you were speaking in codes." / ªÖ®¦ÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º,°O±o¥L¹L¥h¤@ª½´y­zªÅ®ðªº¥L«_ÀIªº¥þ­±©Êªº¤â¶Õ¡C "¬Oªº,«Ü¦n¦a±N¤@¸s motorheads ²Õ´°_¨Ó¦Ó¥B§i¶D¥L­Ì¥L­Ì¤£¯à¨Ï¥Î¼Æ¦r". ¥L­°§C¤F³ìªº¤@­Ó¼Ò¥éªº¥LÁn­µ¡C "' ¥Î¤@¦³¤@¦ìªB¤Í 19 68 455 ­þ¤@¦b§Cªº 12 ¦~¥N¤¤°µ¤F¥|¤À¤§¤@¡C¡C¡C ¦ý¬O¤£¦P¼Ë¦a¦nªº·í°µ§Úªº 389.' Å¥°_¨Ó¹³§A¤@¼Ë¥¿¦b±K½X¤¤»¡¡C"
"What makes you think we weren't?" / " ¨Ï§A»{¬°ªº§Ú­Ì¬O¤£"?
"Heh. You ever race anymore?" / "Heh¡C §A´¿¸g¤£¦A¤ñÁÉ?"
Joe shook his head. "Too much publicity, too many unfair advantages. I've done some phantom racing once in awhile; flatten some egos and score some extra cash. It drives the highway patrols insane." / ³ì·nÀY¡C "¤Ó¦h¼s§i,¤Ó¦h¤£¤½¥­ªº§Q¯q¡C §Ú¦b¤@·|¨à¤w¸g°µ¤@¨Ç¿ùıªºÄvÁɤ@¦¸; ±N¤@¨Ç¦Û§ÚÅÜ¥­¦Ó¥B±o¤À¤@¨ÇÃB¥~ªº²{ª÷¡C ¥¦¾r¾p¤½¸ô¨µÅÞ±wºë¯«¯fªº¡C"
"Anyone else know?" / "¨ä¥L¥ô¦ó¤Hª¾¹D"?
"I haven't heard anything." Meaning either he had never been caught or Nambu hadn't read him the riot act yet. / "§Ú¨S¦³Å¥¨ì¥ô¦ó¨Æ" ¡C ·N¸q©Î¥L±q¥¼³Q®·®»¡A§_«h Nambu ¨S¦³¤´µMŪ¥L¼É°Ê¦æ¬°¡C
Joe shuffled this round and dealt the cards. Ken picked his up, drew once and frowned. Joe did the same. Ken drew again and so did Joe. / ³ì©ì¦²¤F³o­Ó¦^¦X¦Ó¥B³B²z¤F¥d¤ù¡C ¬B°_¥LªºªÖ®¦, ©Ô´¿¸g¦Ó¥B½K¬ÜÀY¡C ³ì°µ¤F¤@¼Ëªº¡C ªÖ®¦¦A¤@¦¸©Ô¡A¦Ó¥B³ì¤]¬O¡C
"Hah!" / "Hah"!
"What?" / "¤°»ò"?
"Gin." Joe slapped the cards down on the table. "Finally, finally at long fucking last. Gin!" / "µ^°s". ³ì¦b®à¤l¤W°Ôªº¤@Án©ñ¤U¥d¤ù¡C "³Ì«á, ³Ì«á¦bªøªº³Ì«á©Ê¥æ¡C µ^°s!"
Ken stared at the cards, surprised. "How'd that happen?" / ªÖ®¦¨nµÛ¥d¤ù¬Ý,¦YÅå¡C "µo¥Íªº How'd"?
"Feeling generous? Or feeling guilty about putting me through the wringer all night?" / "ı±o¦³¶®¶q? ©ÎÃö©ó¾ã©]±ß´À§Ú±µ³qµ±§áªº¤Hı±o¦³¸o?"
"Who, me?" / "½Ö,§Ú"?
"You're right. Guess you weren't paying attention," Joe grinned. / "§A¬O¥¿½Tªº¡C ²q´ú§A¤£¦b±M¤ß,"³ìÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C
"Like hell. Be right back. Call o' nature." Ken stood unsteadily and wobbled out of the kitchen. While he was gone, Joe stacked the cards neatly on the table and drank some more, eyes clouded with dark thoughts. / "³ßÅw¦aº»¡C ­n¥¿½T¦a«á­±¡C ©I¥s o'¦ÛµM¡C"ªÖ®¦¤£¦w©w¦a¯¸¥ß¦Ó¥BÂ÷¶}¼p©Ð·n°Ê¡C ¥L¤£¨£¤F¡A¤£¹L³ì¦b®à¤l¤W¾ã¼ä¦a°ï¿n¤F¥d¤ù¦Ó¥B³Ü¦A¦h¤@¨Ç,¹ï¶Â·tªº·Qªk·P¨ì³±¶³±K§Gªº²´·ú¡C
His expression vanished when Ken sat down across from him. "So what's your question?" / ·íªÖ®¦§¤¤Uªº®É­Ô¡A¥Lªºªí¹F®ø¥¢¦b¥L¹ï­±¡C "¦p¦¹§Aªº°ÝÃD¬O¤°»ò"?
"Why did we ever stop doing that?" / "§Ú­Ì¬°¤°»ò´¿¸g°±¤î°µ¨º"?
"Doing what?" / " °µ¤°»ò"?
"Raising hell. Enjoying the moments between." / "¤É°_¦aº»¡C ¨É¨ü¤ù¨è¦b¤§¶¡¡C"
Ken goggled. "Is that your question?" / ªÖ®¦²´¯]Âà°Ê¡C " ¨º­Ó§Aªº°ÝÃD¬O"?
"No. Just curious." / " ¸¹½X¶È¶È¦n©_".
"Dunno. Got busy, I guess. And you didn't seem in the mood." / "¤£ª¾¹D¡C «Ü¦£¸L,§Ú²q´ú¡C ¦Ó¥B§A¦b¤ß±¡¤¤¨S¦³¦ü¥G¡C"
"Hm." A damned shame, really. But Joe wasn't the only one who hadn't been in the mood lately. He was glad Ken had done this--it really was rare when the two of them discussed anything but missions, or remembered the good times. And there had been good times, hadn't there? Back when they had more optimism, more hope. Just a matter of time before we win this war. Now it seemed like they were fighting their hardest just to stay even. / "Hm". ¸Ó¦ºªº²Û·\,¯uªº¡C ¦ý¬O³ì¤£¬O¤£¤w¸g¬Oªñ¨Ó¦b¤ß±¡¤¤ªº°ß¤@¡C ¥L¬O°ª¿³ªºªÖ®¦¤w¸g°µ³o--·í¥L­Ì¤¤ªº¤G­Ó¨M¤£°Q½×¥ô°È, ©Î°O±o¤F¦nªº®É¥N®É­Ô¡A¥¦¯uªº¬Oµ}¨uªº¡C ¦Ó¥B¤w¸g¦³¦nªº®É¥N, ¤£¦³¦b¨º¸Ì? ·í¥L­Ì¦³¤F§ó¦hªº¼ÖÆ[¥D¸q¡A§ó¦hªº§Æ±æ®É­Ô¡A¦^¡C ¥u¬O¦b§Ú­Ì«eªº®É¶¡¤@­Ó¨Æ¥óűo³o¤@­Ó¾Ôª§¡C ²{¦b¥¦¹³¥L­Ì¥¿¦b³Ì§V¤O¦a¥u¬O¹ï§Ü¥L­Ìªº°±¯d¥­©Z¡C
Oh good, now he was getting maudlin--a sure sign that the beer was affecting him. / ®@¦nªº,²{¦b¥L¥¿¦b®e©ö¬y²\--¤@­Ó°à°s¥¿¦b¼vÅT¥Lªº½T«H²Å¸¹¡C
"So what's your question?" Ken asked. / "¦p¦¹§Aªº°ÝÃD¬O¤°»ò"? ªÖ®¦°Ý¡C
"You got any food in this place?" / "§A¦b³o¤@­Ó¦a¤è¤¤±o¨ì¥ô¦óªº­¹ª«"?
Ken frowned. "If I wasn't hungry too, I'd tell you to quit stalling." He rummaged through the cupboards and refrigerator, and found only a box of rice crackers that might have seen the last world war. "I don't think this qualifies as food." / ªÖ®¦½K¬ÜÀY¡C "¦pªG§Ú¤]¤£ÄȾj,§Ú±N·|§i¶D§AÂ÷¶}°±¹y" ¡C ¥L½¹M¹L­¹Ão©M¹q¦B½c, ¦Ó¥B¥uµo²{¶º»æ°®ªº¤@­Ó²°¤l­þ¤@À³¸Ó¥i¥H³Q¬Ý¨ì³Ì«á¤@­Ó¥@¬É¾Ôª§¡C "§Ú¤£»{¬°¡A³o¨ú±o¸ê®æ¦p­¹ª«" ¡C
"Phone out for pizza." When Ken opened his mouth to protest, he added, "I'll pay." / "¬°¤ñÂÄ¥´¹q¸Üµ¹¥X" ¡C ·íªÖ®¦¥´¶}¤F¥Lªº¼L¤Ï¹ïªº®É­Ô,¥L¼W¥[,"§Ú±N¤ä¥I" ¡C
"That wasn't what I was gonna say. There's no phone." / "¨º¤£¬O§Ú©Ò±N­n»¡ªº¡C ¨S¦³¹q¸Ü¡C"
"You're joking." / "§A¥¿¦b¶}ª±¯º" ¡C
"Nope. Line got disconnected a few months ago." / "¤£¡C ½u¤ë¥H«e±o¨ì¤ÀÂ÷¡C"
"Use the radio." / "¨Ï¥Î¦¬­µ¾÷" ¡C
"Send for pizza on the radio? Now I know you've been drinking." / "­qÁʦb¦¬­µ¾÷¤Wªº¤ñÂÄ? ²{¦b§Ú»{ÃѧA¤w¸g³Ü¡C"
Joe shrugged. "Call one of your friends and have them order for you by phone." / ³ìÁqªÓ¡C " ©I¥s§AªºªB¤Í¦Ó¥B¤§¤@¬°§AÂǵ۹q¸ÜÅý¥L­Ì©R¥O".
"At four in the morning? They'd probably come over here and kill me." / "¦b¦­±á¦b¥|ÂIÄÁ? ¥L­Ì¦³¥i¯à¨Ó¦b³o¸Ì¦Ó¥B±þ§Ú¡C"
"Where's your sense of adventure?" / "§Aªº«_ÀI·P¦b­þ¸Ì"?
"We could go pick one up." / "§Ú­Ì¥i¥H¦V¤W¥hºë¿ï¤@" ¡C
"And drive into a tree. We could call Jun." / " ¦Ó¥B¶i¤J¤@´Ê¾ð¤§¤ºªº¾r¨®¡C §Ú­Ì¥i¥H©I¥s¤»¤ë¡C"
"We'd be better off taking our chances with the tree." / "§Ú­Ì±N·|¬O¸û¦nªº»·¥H¾ð©h¥B¤@¸Õ" ¡C
Joe shook his head. "Never mind." / ³ì·nÀY¡C "¤£¥²¤¶·N" ¡C
As they sat down to play again, Ken's head jerked up as if he had just remembered something. He glared at Joe. / ·í¥L­Ì§¤¤U¦A¤@¦¸ª±ªº®É­Ô, ªÖ®¦ªºÀYµjÅ˦b¦n¹³¥L­è­è°O±o¬Y¨Æ¤W­±¡C ¥L¦b³ìµo¯t¥ú¡C
"What?" / "¤°»ò"?
"Who the hell were you calling a Boy Scout?" he demanded. / " ½Ö¦aº»¬O§A¥´¹q¸Üµ¹¤@­Óµ£¤l­x"? ¥L­n¨D¡C
"Who do you think?" Joe chuckled wickedly as he dealt the cards. "Just bat those big, baby blue eyes, and all you need is a halo. You know how many times I took the blame for what you did? Even from people who know you!" / "§A·Q½Ö"? ·í¥L³B²z¤F¥d¤ùªº®É­Ô¡A³ìÃa¦a¦Y¦Yªº¯º¡C " ¥¿ª½ªº½¿½»¨º¨Ç¤jªº,²H«C¦â²´·ú, ©M¥þ³¡§A»Ý­n¬O¤@­Ó·w½ü¡C §Aª¾¹D§Ú¹ï§A°µªº©Ó¾á³d¥ô¦a¦h³\¦h¦¸? ¬Æ¦Ü±q»{ÃѧAªº¤H!"
"Give me one good example." / "µ¹§Ú¤@­Ó¦n¨Ò¤l" ¡C
"The first week we were in Crescent Coral and we were both in the airlock, doing equipment checks. You got mad at me about something and threw that wrench... which hit the emergency release and half flooded the place before we got the lock shut again, Nambu came in and tore me up one side and down the other before you stepped up and apologized. One look at your sad puppy act and he stomped off." / " ²Ä¤@­Ó¬P´Á§Ú­Ì¬O¦b·s¤ë§Îªº¬À·ä¤¤¡A¦Ó¥B§Ú­Ì¨â­Ó¦b airlock ¤¤,°µ»ö¾¹Àˬd¡C §A¦b§ÚÃö©ó¬Y¨ÆºÆ¨g¤F¦Ó¥B¥á¨º¤@­Ó§æ¹X¡C¡C¡C ¨º¤@­ÓÀ»¤¤¦b§Ú­Ì¦A¤@¦¸¨ÏÂêÃö³¬ªº¤§«e , ºò«æªºÄÀ©ñ©M¤@¥b¥ÆÀݤF¦a¤è, Nambu ¶i¨Ó¦Ó¥B¼¹·´§ÚÃä¦Ó¥BåP¸¨¥t¤@­Ó¦b§A¥[³t¦Ó¥B¹Dºp¤§«e¡C ¤@¬Ý§Aªº¼~·T¤pª¯¦æ¬°¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¨«¶}¸ö¡C"
Ken's face turned a shade pinker. "You remember that? God, we were just sixteen." / ªÖ®¦ªºÁyÅܱo¤ñ¸û¯»¬õ¡C "§A°O±o¨º? ¤W«Ò, §Ú­Ì«Ü¥u¦³¤Q¤»¡C"
"Then there was that part time job you got flying sign messages over the bay. You thought that if you got attention just by flying, you could get even more attention with a few little aerobatics. Only you got the pennant tangled in the landing gear, and when you came back down, your plane did a sharp left into a maintenance hangar." / " µM«á¦³§A¦¬¨ì¤F¦b®üÆW¤Wªº­¸²Å¸¹°T®§ªº¨º­Ó³¡¥÷®É¶¡¤u§@¡C §A·Q¡A¦pªG§A¶È¶ÈÂǵۭ¸±o¨ì¤Fª`·N,§A¥i¥H¥Î¤@¨Ç¤p¯S§Þ­¸¦æ±o¨ì¬Æ¦Ü§ó¦hªºª`·N¡C ¥u¦³§A¨Ï¤F¦b°_¸¨¬[¤¤³Q¨ÏÄñµ²ªº pennant ¡A¦Ó¥B·í§A¦^¨Ó¤U¨Óªº®É­Ô,§Aªº­¸¾÷°µ¾U§Qªº¥ªÃä¶i¤@­ÓºûÅ@­¸¾÷®w¡C"
Ken grinned. "Good thing the door was open." / ªÖ®¦ÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º¡C " ¦n¨Æª«ªù¬O¤½¶}".
"By the time we got there, you were piled up against the far wall, hanging upside down out of the cockpit with this dumb-puppy look on your face. I'll never forget what you said..." / "·í§Ú­Ì¨ì¨ºùتº®É­Ô,§A³Q¼W¥[«Ü¦h¹ï§Ü»·ªºÀð¾À,ÄA­Ë±q©M¦b§AªºÁy¤W°×- ¤pª¯¯«±¡ªº¾r¾p­û®y¿µÄa±¾¡C §Ú±N±q¤£§Ñ°O§A©Ò»¡ªº¡C¡C¡C"
Ken snickered. "Yeah. I said, 'Oops.' But I didn't get out of that one easily." / ªÖ®¦¦Y¦Y¦a¯º¡C "¬Oªº¡C §Ú»¡,'°Ú¡C'¦ý¬O§Ú®e©ö¦a¨S¦³Â÷¶}¨º¤@­Ó¡C"
"They didn't sue for damages, did they?" / "¥L­Ì¨S¦³¬°·l®`±±§i,¬O¶Ü"?
"No, I guess not." / "¤£¡A§Ú²q´ú¤£" ¡C
"Then there was the--" / " µM«á¨º¸Ì¬O¨º--"
"All right already! Sorry I asked!" / " ¦nªº¤w¸g! Ãø¹Lªº§Ú°Ý!"
Joe laughed. "Wonder what would happen if news ever got out that the Mighty and Heroic Gatchaman was such a troublemaker?" / ³ì¯º¡C "¦pªG·s»D´¿¸gÂ÷¶}¡AÃhºÃ±N·|µo¥ÍªºªF¦è¡A¦³¶Õ¤Oªº©M­^«iªº Gatchaman ¬O¤@­Ó¦p¦¹·S³Â·Ðªº¤H"?
"It'll never happen. Nobody'd ever believe you. Gin." / "¥¦±NµLªkµo¥Í¡C Nobody'd ´¿¸g¬Û«H§A¡C µ^°s¡C"
"Shit! Looks like you're back to form. What's your question?" "I wanna know what yours is. You've got me curious now. Quit stalling." / "ÁT! ¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³§A¤@¼Ë¦^¨Ó§Î¦¨¡C §Aªº°ÝÃD¬O¤°»ò?"" §Ú·Q­nª¾¹D¤°»ò§Aªº¬O¡C §A²{¦b¤w¸g¨Ï§Ú¦n©_ªº¡C Â÷¶}°±¹y¡C"
"It's the only serious one I'm gonna ask." / "¥¦¬O§Ú±N­n°Ýªº°ß¤@ÄY­«ªº" ¡C
"It's the only one you're gonna ask anyway," Ken said, smiling. / "¥¦¬O§A±N­nµL½×¦p¦ó°Ýªº°ß¤@¤@­Ó",ªÖ®¦»¡,·L¯º¡C
"Smug bastard. You ready?" / "¦Û¥H¬°¬Oªº¨p¥Í¤l¡C §A¹w³Æ?"
"Go ahead." / "¥h¦V«e¦a" ¡C
His eyes locked with Ken's. Ken's manner sobered, but he still wobbled a little, and he had the sinking feeling that he--not Joe--had just dug his own grave. / ¥Lªº²´·ú©MªÖ®¦Âê¡C ªÖ®¦ªº¤èªk¨Ï¨HµÛ¡A¦ý¬O¥L¤´µMµy·L·n°Ê¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¦³¨H¨S·Pı¥L-- ¤£³ì--­è­è«õ¥L¦Û¤vªº¹Ó¥Þ¡C
"So," Joe said in a quiet voice. "When are you and Jun gonna make things official?" / "¦p¦¹" ¡A³ì¦b¤@ºØ¦wÀRªºÁn­µ¤¤»¡¡C "§A©M¤»¤ë¦ó®É¥h¨Ï¨Æª«©x¤è"?
Ken regarded him with wide eyes. "That's your question?" / ªÖ®¦¥Î¼eªº²´·úµø¬°¥L¡C "¨º¬O§Aªº°ÝÃD"?
"That's it. Don't think I haven't noticed the air getting warmer lately." / "¨º¬O¥¦¡C ¤£­n»{¬°§Ú¨S¦³ª`·Nªñ¨Ó¤ñ¸û¼ö ªºªÅ®ð¡C"
"My love life is none of your--" / "§Aªº§Ú·R¥Í¬¡¬O¨S¦³¤H--"
"Evasion," Joe said. "Can't do that." / "°kÁ×",³ì»¡¡C "¤£¯à°µ¨º" ¡C
"Now wait a--" / " ²{¦bµ¥­Ô¤@--"
"You agreed to the rules, remember?" / "§A¦P·N³W«h,°O±o"?
Ken spluttered for a minute, glared at his friend for a minute more, then sighed. "Wait just a moment." He got up and disappeared into the back bedroom, where Joe heard him rummaging through drawers and mumbling to himself. After another long interval, Ken reappeared in the kitchen with a small velvet box, which he set upon the table. / ¤ÀÄÁªºªÖ®¦ spluttered,¬°·L¤pªº§ó¦h¦b¥LªºªB¤Íµo¯t¥ú,µM«á¼Û®§¡C "¥u¬Oµ¥­Ô¤ù¨è" ¡C ¥L¶i¤J«á­±ªºª×«Ç¤§¤º°_§É¦Ó¥B®ø¥¢,¦b³ì¹ï¥L¦Û¤vÅ¥¨ì¤F¥L½¹M¹L©â±P¦Ó¥B³ä³ä¦Ó»yªº¦a¤è¡C ¦b¥t¥~ªøªº¶¡¹j¤§«á¡AªÖ®¦¦A¥X²{¦b©M¤pªº¤ÑÃZµ³ªº¼p©Ð¤¤²°¤l, ¥L¦b®à¤l¤§¤W³]©w¡C
"Thought so." A wide grin spread across Joe's face. / "³o»ò·Q" ¡C ¼eªºÅS¾¦¯º¥]¬A³ìªºÁy¡C
"Just open it," Ken said, annoyed. / "¶È¶È¥´¶}¥¦",ªÖ®¦»¡,­W´o¡C
He did, and the smile faded into a look of surprise as he stared down at the delicate gold ring; the cluster of diamonds sparkling within an intricate floral design, of a quality that spoke of careful, expensive workmanship done a very long time ago. "Wow." / ¥L°µ, ©M·L¯º¤w¿Æ¦âªº¶i¤J·N¥~ªº¯«±¡¤§¤º·í¥L¦b²Ó½oÀu¶®ªºª÷¦â§Ù«üª`µø¤U¨Ó; ¦b½ÆÂøªºªá¦ü³]­p¸Ì­±°{Ã{ ªºÆp¥Û¸s,¤@­Ó½Í¨ìªº«~½è¤p¤ß, ³Q°µªº¶Q¤âÃÀ¤@«D±`«Ü¤[¥H«e¡C "«z".
"It was my mother's," Ken said. "And before that, my grandmother's. Dr. Nambu gave it to me--my mother gave it to him for safekeeping before she died. As soon as this battle's decided, I plan to give it to Jun." He sighed again. "That is, if she'll accept it." / "¥¦¬O§Úªº¥À¿Ë",ªÖ®¦»¡¡C " ¦Ó¥B¦b¨º¤§«e,§Úªº¯ª¥À¡C Nambu ³Õ¤h§â¥¦µ¹§Ú--¦b¦o¦º¤§«e , §Úªº¥À¿Ë¬°«OÅ@§â¥¦µ¹¥L¡C ¹³³o¤@³õ³Q¨M©wªº¾Ôª§¤@¼Ëªº«Ü§Ö¡A§Ú­p¹º§â¥¦µ¹¤»¤ë¡C"¥L¦A¤@¦¸¼Û®§¡C "¦pªG¦o±N±µ¨ü¥¦¡A¨º¬O" ¡C
Joe shut the box gently and handed it back. "Idiot, of course she'll accept it." / ³ì³vº¥¦aÃö¤W¤F²°¤l¦Ó¥B§â¥¦¶Ç»¼¦^¨Ó¡C "¥Õè,·íµM¦o±N±µ¨ü¥¦".
Ken slipped the box into a pocket, sat down and pulled out the cards. / ªÖ®¦·Æ­Ë²°¤l¶i¤@­Ó¤f³U¤§¤º, §¤¤U¦Ó¥B©Ô¥X¥d¤ù¡C
They continued to play, this time for no stakes, and worked on the rest of the beer until the refrigerator was empty and Ken was half-asleep on the table, head propped on his hands. Joe snagged his elbow and knocked it out from under him. Ken barely recovered in time to keep himself from falling face down on the table. "Knock it off." / ¥L­ÌÄ~Äòª±,³o¦¸¹ï©ó¨S¦³½äª`, ¦Ó¥B³B²z°à°sªº¨ä¥¦³¡¤Àª½¨ì¹q¦B½c¬OªÅªº¡A¦Ó¥BªÖ®¦¬O¤@¥bªº-¼ôºÎ¦a¦b®à¤l¤W¡AÀY¦b¥Lªº¤â¤W¤ä¼µ¡C ³ì²Ê¿i¤F¥Lªº¤â¨y¦Ó¥BºVÀ»¥X¥¦±q¦b¥L¤§¤U¡C ªÖ®¦´X¥G¤Î®É§ä¦^±q¦V¤Uªº¦b®à¤l¤Wªº¸¨¤UÁy«O¦s¥L¦Û¤v¡C "¨«¶}ºVÀ»¥¦" ¡C
"I did. C'mon," he said. "Time for the old man to turn in." / "§Ú°µ¡C C'mon,"¥L»¡¡C "¦Ñ¤H®É¶¡¨ì¤F¤W§ÉºÎı" ¡C
"First it's 'Boy Scout,' and now it's 'old man.' Who you callin' old?" Ken complained, but there was no fire behind the voice. "An' where're you gonna go?" / " ­º¥ý¥¦¬O 'µ£¤l­x ,' ¡A¦Ó¥B²{¦b¥¦¬O ' ¦Ñ¤H¡C¦Ñªº '½Ö§A callin'?"ªÖ®¦©ê«è, ¦ý¬O¨S¦³¦bÁn­µ«á­±ªº¤õ¡C "¤@' where're §A¥h¥h"?
"Oh, I'll manage." Grinning, Joe hauled him up by one arm, and staggering himself, half dragged his friend to the bedroom. When they got near the bed, Ken groped for it with one questing hand, and once assured of its location, flopped face down onto the mattress without opening his eyes. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. / "®@,§Ú±N³B²z". ÅS¾¦¦Ó¯º,³ì¦V¤WÂǵۤ@°¦¤âÁu©ì¤F¥L, ©M·n®Ì±ý­Ëªº¥L¦Û¤v,¤@¥b©ì©Ô¥LªºªB¤Í¨ìª×«Ç¡C ·í¥L­Ì¨ì¹F¦b§Éªºªþªñ®É­Ô,ªÖ®¦¬°¥¦¥H¤@°¦´M§ä¤â¥HºN¯Á´M§ä¡A¦Ó¥B¤@¦¸¥¦ªº¦aÂI«Oµý,¤£¥´¶}¥Lªº²´·ú¦b©³¹Ô¤§¤W§âÁy²Â­«ªººL¤U¨Ó¡C ¦b¥LªºÀYÀ»¤¤ªEÀY¤§«e , ¥LºÎ¼ô¤F¡C
Joe watched him for a moment, face somber. The question he had truly planned would have killed the entire evening. He could already envision what the outcome would have been if he had reached over and grabbed his friend's forearm, as if to keep him from running away, and said, "When are you going to admit to Dr. Nambu that the Hypershoot is killing you?" / ³ì¬Ý¤F¥L¤@·|¨à, ·L·tªºÁy¡C °ÝÃD¥L¯u¹ê¦a¦³­pµe·|±þ¾ã­Óªº±ß¤W¡C °²¦p¥L¦ù¹L¤â¥h¡A¥L·|¤w¸g·Q¹³µ²ªG´N·|¬O¤°»ò¦Ó¥B§ì¨ú¤F¥LªºªB¤Í«eÁu, ¦n¹³¨Ï¥L¤£°k¨«, ¦Ó¥B»¡,"§A±N­n·í¦V Hypershoot ¥¿¦b±þ®`§Aªº Nambu ³Õ¤h©Ó»{"?
"It's not--" Ken would protest. / "¥¦¬O¤£ --" ªÖ®¦±N·|¤Ï¹ï¡C
"It is. You know it. I can see it. I've been there before, remember? Only you won't get a second chance." / "¥¦¬O¡C §Aª¾¹D¥¦¡C §Ú¯à¬Ý¨£¥¦¡C §Ú¤w¸g¬O¥H«e¦b¨º¸Ì,°O±o? ¥u¦³§A±N¤£±o¨ì¤@­Ó²Ä¤G­Ó¾÷·|¡C"
"When we find a more effective weapon!" Ken would finally snarl. "How can we succeed with anything less?" / "·í§Ú­Ìµo²{¤@­Ó¸û¦³®ÄªºªZ¾¹®É­Ô"! ªÖ®¦±N·|³Ì«á§q¥s¡C "§Ú­Ì¦p¦ó¯à¥H¤ñ¸û¤ÖªºªF¦è¦¨¥\"?
"How can we succeed if you're dead? After all I said about our needing you, about this not being a one-man show... didn't you get it?" / "¦pªG§A¦º¡A§Ú­Ì¦p¦ó¯à¦¨¥\? ²¦³º§Ú»¡Ãö©ó§Ú­Ì»Ý­n§Aªº¨Æ, Ãö©ó³oªº¨Æ¤£¦b¤@¤@-¨k¤HÅã¥Ü¡C¡C¡C §A¨S±o¨ì¶Ü¥¦?"
"Talk about a one-man show, what have we been talking about all night? You tried to kill yourself twice! And you'd do it again if you could!" / "½Í½×¤@³õ¤@­Ó¨k¤Hªºªíºt,§Ú­Ì¤j¬ù¾ã©]±ßÁ¿¸Ü¤F¤°»ò? §A¸ÕµÛ±þ§A¦Û¤v¨â¦¸! ¦Ó¥B§A¦A¤@¦¸±N·|°µ¥¦¦pªG§A¥i¥H!"
Joe could tell him that he had learned better, but that would be a lie. He would do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant sparing Ken's life. He wasn't trained to use the Hypershoot system, and that was the only thing that had prevented him from taking up the sword--that and an aversion to betraying his leader. The argument would escalate, and they would go their separate ways, angry with each other and with themselves. / ³ì¥i¥H§i¶D¥L¥L¤w¸g§ó¾Ç²ß, ¦ý¬O±N·|¬O¤@«hÁÀ¨¥¡C ¦pªG¥¦·N¿×¼e®¤ªÖ®¦ªº¥Í¬¡¡A¥L¦A¤@¦¸±N·|¦b¤@­Ó¤ß¸õ¤¤°µ¥¦¡C ¥L¨S³Q°V½m¨Ï¥Î Hypershoot ¨t²Î¡A¦Ó¥B¨º¬O¤w¸gªý¤î¥LµÛ¤â¶i¦æ¤M¼Cªº°ß¤@¨Æª«-- ­þ¤@©M¹½´c¨ì¥X½æ¥Lªº»â³S¡C ª§½×±N·|ÂX¤j¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­Ì±N·|¦U©b«eµ{, ¥Í®ðªº¹ï©¼¦¹©M¥Ñ©ó¥L­Ì¦Û¤v¡C
It can wait, he decided. It can wait for just a little while. / ¥¦¯àµ¥­Ô,¥L¨M©w¡C ¥¦¯àµ¥­Ô¥u¬O¤p¤pªº¤@·|¨à¡C
Outside the sky grew lighter. The air was stuffy in the little shack, so Joe opened the window, sat on the sill and watched the dawn approach. Just as the sun cleared the horizon, he too fell asleep, leaning against the frame. / ¦b

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