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11_metamorphosis-第17部分

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No visitor had failed to be astounded at the sight。 Maxwell drew a certain sensual pleasure from seeing the sculpted brows of the renowned Yellow Dancer raised high。 〃Mr。 Mayor…these planes still fly; then?〃

He basked in the impact his collection had made。 〃They haven't in many; many years; but…of course; or what would be the point of having them?〃

He indicated the way with a slight bow; Yellow fell in; walking between the gleaming; sleek…lined sky hunters while he went on。 〃I'm no aviator; you see; they were refitted to fly by auto…pilot; the very last word in Human guidance systemry; before Robotechnology changed all that forever。〃

They had walked beneath the open landing gear bays; the poised wings。 Yellow could see that the external hardpoints and pylons were loaded with what seemed to be real; functioning ordnance; and that the jets looked fully operational。

〃The planes basically flew themselves;〃 Maxwell was saying。 〃These were my father's prized possessions; they're dear to me as he was dear to me。 They're all I really have left of him; really。〃

They had e to two easy chairs over by the high windows; some distance from where Carla sat。 Maxwell pointedly made no introductions。 〃Please sit down。 Your note said that you're seeking employment?〃

Yellow Dancer nodded; a purple wisp of hair falling across her cheek。 〃Yes; and I hear you are the owner of a fabulous nightspot here in town; correct?〃

Maxwell nodded; his eyes searching Yellow's; drinking her in。 Lancer had heard through resistance sources that Maxwell was a collector of Yellow Dancer's performance tapes and sound recordings。 In fact; the mayor had made tentative inquiries with an eye to getting the legendary Yellow Dancer to perform in his mountain domain。

〃I am indeed。 And if the magnificent Yellow Dancer were to perform there; it would help my people by boosting the town's economy…and my own; of course。〃

Yellow Dancer chuckled slyly。 Unnoticed; Carla suddenly broke her sad reverie; her head snapping up; eyes going toward where the two sat。 〃I'd be thrilled to; Mayor Maxwell;〃 beamed Yellow Dancer。 Carla's breath caught in her throat; and she put one hand on the arm of her chair; feeling faint。

It can't be! But…I've got to be sure! She forced herself to her feet。

The mayor was saying; 〃A bravura performance by Yellow Dancer will lift people's spirits。 Certainly it will help in my reelection campaign。〃 It didn't look or sound like Maxwell was very worried about being unseated; though。

Yellow Dancer looked up amiably; ready to greet the mayor's fianc閑。 A sudden astonishment came across the fine…boned; androgynous face。

Carla could only stare down at Yellow。 It is Lancer!

Maxwell hadn't noticed Yellow's expression; because he was reaching up to take Carla's hand。 He made the introductions and added; 〃I have a splendid idea! We'll have ourselves a deal; Yellow; if you promise to sing a ballad for our wedding! And I'll move the date up to tomorrow afternoon。 Now how's that?〃

Yellow barely heard what the mayor was saying。 Like Carla; Yellow had the feeling that the gold of the sunset had engulfed the whole room; whisking them to some other time and place。


Maxwell's Club Inca was the finest spot in the region; but it was still a sad place; more of an echo of a bygone era than an evocation of it。

Carla sat watching Yellow Dancer move across the stage; dedicating the first number to the bride and groom。 The groom was off somewhere attending to more of his seemingly endless business; and the bride was trying to hold back her tears。

The noontime wedding; at Maxwell's mansion; had been a joyless affair attended mostly by his attendants and a few local notables。 Carla had refused an elaborate wedding gown; insisting on wearing a simple blue frock。 She had gone through the motions like a zombie; barely aware of what she was doing; knowing only that Lancer hadn't e to her。

She had thought he would seek her out; and save her from the wedding。 And then in time she realized that; for some reason; that wasn't going to happen。

But now; alone at her table at the Club Inca; she watched Yellow Dancer's every move。 She couldn't be wrong! Lancer must have e back for her at last!

Yellow wore one of her most stylish outfits; a feminized version of the Cabaret MC's costume; plete with vest; bowtie; derby hat; and spats。 Very Marlene Dietrich。

As promised; the song was an old Minmei number; sung for the mayor and the new Mrs。 Maxwell。 The alluring chanteuse broke into song; acpanied by recorded music because the house band just wasn't up to her level of performance。

How could it all have turned out this way? Carla wondered; staring into her champagne glass as though the answer were there。

Her memory strayed again; back to a time just after the Invid destroyed the planet Earth。

The brunt of the conquest was over in hours。 Striking with beam weapons and energy effects that humanity still could not prehend; the Invid exterminated over eighty percent of the Human race。 Many more died as the Invid mecha descended to ravage and slay。

The remnants of the Army of the Southern Cross rose to fight; were thrown back in defeat; regrouped; tried again against any sane hope; and were shattered beyond repair。

Still there were those who refused to surrender; as the aliens established themselves and began their pacification of the planet。 One of these was a young aviator reservist named Lancer who had just begun to explore his love with a woman named Carla when the hordes from the stars struck。

Even as the Invid established their network of quislings; informers; and assassination squads; Lancer and a few others were plotting for a final attempt to strike at the heart of the Invid beachhead。

But the raid was a final disaster。 Wounded; attempting to get back to her; Lancer had crash…landed his Veritech less than a mile from her door。 Somehow; Carla had gotten him to what was left of her home。

By then; most of the people still alive were those willing to submit to the Invid。 Some even served them…hunted down their enemies and offered them up to the triumphant invaders。

Lancer had barely e to in Carla's bed when the sounds of the hue and cry drifted up from the streets。 Rifle butts were bashing at doors; hounds bayed。

In time; the manhunt came to Carla's house。


CHAPTER TEN

If you hold it against me that I was a little theatrical in what I did; and you don't care to consider The Scarlet Pimpernel or Zorro; be kind enough to keep in mind what I acplished; and let the record speak for itself。
Of if not; either walk on by or step out back。
Remark attributed to Lancer

That time seemed so remote; Carla thought; and yet it remained so crystal…clear in her mind。

Lancer had a fine record as a military officer; but he had left the Southern Cross sometime before the Invid attack because he had been unable to fight the urge he felt to be a performer。 His soft; intimate way with some songs; his brassy; crowd…pleasing style with others; made him a natural; but there was another side to his art。

An interest in theater had led him to investigate the Japanese traditions of No; Bunraku; Bugaku; and especially Kabuki。 He found that he loved to perform clownish Saruwaka antics more than he liked any Aragoto swaggering heroic lead; and in somewhat the same way; the martial juggling/acrobatics of the Hoka possessed him。

And he came; in time; almost against his will; to a fascination with the revered craft of the Onna…gata…the tradition of female roles portrayed by specializing male actors…and the gentle Wagoto style of acting。

Lancer found a strange understanding of himself through the Musume; the ingenue role; and dramatic masters encouraged him to study the art。 In the West there was still; in many quarters; a horror at the blurring of gender lines。 But in the Kabuki his talent was applauded; by men and women both; for its triumph of art over stereotype; and for its submersion of self in role。

Lancer returned to the Americas with new thoughts in his head。 He began to revive the type of gender…blending pop music figure that had disappeared with the outbreak of the Global Civil War。

When he met Carla; she seemed
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