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Sunrise was throwing brighter light across the flattened terrain。 〃What a sight for sore eyes。〃 Rick smiled； flicking switches on his instrument panel。
Lisa laughed outright； surprising herself。 Was it right to be happy again so soon after so much carnage？ But she couldn't help feeling joy； and she laughed again。 〃Oh； yes； yes！〃
〃This thing's still got a few miles left in it；〃 Rick decided； studying the instruments。 〃Let's go。〃
〃Okay！〃
She settled back into his lap； and when he put his hand over the throttle； she covered it gently with her own； averting her eyes but leaving her hand there。 He moved the throttle forward。 Lisa's heart soared； feeling his hand beneath hers。
The Guardian jetted across the devastated landscape； into the sunrise； straight for the SDF…1 and the long shadow it threw。 Lisa； her arms around Rick's neck； laid her head on his chest and watched a new future loom up before her。
PART II： RECONSTRUCTION BLUES
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Why were the higher…ups so surprised that we rebuilt right away； and so quickly？ Human feet can wear down a stone； human hands can grind down iron； human perseverance can overe any adversity。
Mayor Tommy Luan； The High Ofce
Upon its initial arrival； Gloval had thought of the SDF…1 as a kind of malign miracle； since it had kept humanity from destroying itself utterly in the Global Civil War。
There was another miraculous purpose it was to serve； to divert war away from Earth； fight off the Zentraedi； and ultimately break the invaders' power。
But there was a third role in this sequence of events that even Gloval hadn't guessed； indeed； he had unwittingly worked in opposition to it。
The SDF…1 was an ark； as well。
Even after the bombardments； the scorched…Earth attack that had very nearly e to a no…Earth situation； the boiling away of much of the planet's water…temporarily at least…into the atmosphere； pockets of humanity had survived。 But what chance would they have to resume an advanced culture and technological base？
Very simply； none。
Take mining as an example。 Most of the useful minerals that could be mined by primitive means were long since exhausted。 The huddled groups of war…shocked people who survived the Zentraedi holocaust were unable to mount even steam…age mining efforts； much less the sophisticated operations it would take to get to the less accessible deposits still remaining in the planet。 An unbelievably plex and interdependent world had simply passed away； and there was no means to rebuild it。
Terran technology had used up its one bolt； and there was no such thing as starting over from scratch； because the resources that had let Homo sapiens start from scratch had been consumed long before。
The human race was on its way to being a permanent； dead…end race of hunter…gatherers with no hope of ever being more again。 History was about to close the books on a vaguely interesting little upstart species； events and the simple facts of life had gone against it。
Except there was the SDF…1； with Macross City inside。
There had been few hard words or unyielding attitudes once the great starship set down in the dry lakebed。 Who do you get mad at when the world lies dying？
In their years of wandering and persevering； the residents of Macross City had put most delusions and wishful thinking behind them。 They saw what had happened； and it came to them quickly that against any expectation； they had been the lucky ones。 The castoffs and pariahs were actually the cargo of a new ark。
So in the end that was the fate of Macross City。 What was left of it was disembarked； person by person； piece by piece； around the lakebed； and the rebuilding began。
The intellectuals and experts argued about the best ways to reestablish ecological balances and manage moisture reclamation； the people of Macross rebuilt their homes and businesses and lives as best they could； trusting that such things were more important than all the puter projections。
The ship's engines provided power。 Its mecha and military people enforced law and order in an ever…growing domain of security。 The SDF…1's fabricators and other technical equipment quickly provided a new industrial base； and the population of Macross constituted an urban economic hub。
In the time after that last Armageddon； the SDF…1's name might better have been that of one of its constituent flattops； Prometheus。 It was humanity's main source of medical care； technical resources； and most importantly； the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of the species Homo sapiens。
The nuclear winter scenario was much less severe than the puters had guessed。 That was partly because the predictions had been based on faulty models。 It was also because the RDF and civilian corps worked around the clock to make it so。
And they had allies。 The explosion of Dolza's base had disabled or taken with it his entire Grand Fleet； but a considerable part of Breetai's armada had survived。 Many Zentraedi had chosen to go to Earth and take up a life there either in Micronian size or in their own original bodies。
Both races hoped for a new golden age or at least a lasting silver one。
It was a world seared and barren； pockmarked with craters and。 split with fissures made by war。 Everywhere were the rusting mecha of the last great battle。 Most of the disabled Zentraedi ships had； for unknown reasons； oriented on the nearest center of gravity…Earth…and driven toward it。
The result was that the planet's surface was an eerie Robotech Boot Hill dotted with crumpled alien warships that had driven themselves partway into the ground like spikes。 The reminders of that last day were everywhere； too many to ever dismantle or bury。 Only time and the elements would remove the grave markers； and they would not do so in the life span of anyone then living。
But those who were left alive went on a new crusade； the one to heal the planet and put things right again。
Two years passed。
Rick Hunter's VT； in Guardian mode； plained at the strain he put on it in the tight bank。 He gritted his teeth but held to it。 The old ship； battered as it was； had never failed him yet。 With replacement parts and maintenance time in such woefully short supply； the Skull Leader's craft wasn't in the shape it had been in during the war； but he trusted it。
The Guardian jetted in low over the rust…red； pitted countryside and foot…thrustered to a deft landing。 It bowed； nose nearly touching the ground； he jumped from the cockpit eagerly； hardly able to credit what was happening to him。
〃I don't believe it！ It's impossible！〃
He ran across the gritty； fallow soil； back toward what he had spotted。 All around were gigantic； jagged shreds and peels of Zentraedi armorplate； twisted and mangled； slowly turning to rust and dust。 Off to one side was an overturned Guardian wreck that looked like it had been put through a meat grinder。 Its rusting legs stuck straight up into the air like a dead hawk's。
Rick skidded to a halt； the wind moaning around him。 He looked down and was astounded。
At his feet； springing from a moist plot of earth somehow enriched enough to sustain it； was a field of dandelions。 The irregularly shaped； few…square…yards patch of them was sheltered from the wind by the wreckage and yet； by chance； had good exposure to sunlight。
For a moment he couldn't find words。 〃Absolutely incredible；〃 he murmured； but that was insufficient。 Here； near yet another Zentraedi wreck； the soil had been fortified with something that would support life。 He suspected that he knew what that something had been； and it suddenly made him feel very mortal and humble。
〃Real flowers！〃 He knelt； handling them as gently as a lover； inhaling。
Certainly there were flowers in the greenhouses and protected fields of the reclamation projects； but this！ It was a thing as wonderful as flight…no； more wonderful！ Life itself！
He couldn't recall how many times； as a child； he'd raced across a field of these unglamorous flowers； eyes fixed on the blue sky； wishing only to fly。 And now things had e full circle； he flew the most advanced aircraft ever known with his eyes trained on the ground； waiting and hoping for just such a sight as。。。dandelions。
I hope this means the Earth is forgiving us； he meditated。
It was a good and precious thing to know that at least one positive sign； however small； had shown itself。 There were other omens that were not so good。 Rick was privy to a lot of high…level information thanks to his experiences among the Zentraedi and his value as an intelligence source。
There were things he tried not to think about； and three of them had disturbing names： Protoculture。 Robotech Masters。 Invid。
Three VTs swooped in low over the desolate land； forming up again after pleting their aerial recons of assigned sectors。 They were newer ships than Rick's； but they looked somehow less sleek and finished。 There were those who said the true high…water mark of Robotech workmanship had passed。
〃mander Hunter； e in； please；〃 said Rick's new second in mand； Lieutenant Ransom。 〃This is Skull Four calling Skull Six。〃
No answer； after five minutes' trying。 Ransom thought for a moment。 〃Bobby？〃
Sergeant Bobby Bell； youngest of the