Yukikaze y-1

by Chohei Kambayashi

“I don’t want to do it.”

  “That’s what everyone else said. It’s a mutiny. I don’t know what else to do. That wrinkled old hag told me to take care of it. Do you want to get me killed?”

  “It’s not my fault we don’t have a formal honor guard.”

  “That negative attitude isn’t going to get us anywhere. Come on, can’t you give me some useful advice on this?”

  “How ’bout you stand out there by yourself, Major?” said Rei as he refilled his coffee cup. “I don’t think they’d shoot you for that.”

  “A drop, a raindrop, a mote,” said the major. “Zero. That’s the meaning of your name, Rei.”

  “Look, I was born trouble,” Rei replied without turning around, still standing in front of the coffee maker. “My parents split up right after I was born, and I was raised in a home along with plenty of other kids like me. But the truth is, I was happy back then.”

  “Sounds depressing. What time is it?”

  “Coming up on 1658 hours. Wanna check things out up top, Jack?”

  “Sure,” said the major. “I’ll allow it.”

  The two men left the briefing room and headed for a huge elevator bank on the opposite side of the hangar. They walked in silence. The major carried his boomerang.

  Elevator Three, the closest one, was a hundred meters away, around a tractor and a maintenance ramp. There were no elevators just for people here. Rei grabbed a remote control box hanging on the wall and inserted his ID card into the top to activate it as they stepped onto the elevator floor.

  “Shall we go?” said the major.

  The thirty-by-twenty-meter-wide platform began to rise. As they ascended Rei kept his head tilted back, looking up the shaft. He’d always found the pattern made by the rings of light panels encircling it beautiful. The platform paused briefly as they waited for an isolation bulkhead above them to open. There were three of these bulkheads between them and the surface, each ensuring that its respective level was kept airtight. The elevator’s power source switched over at these points too; in the event of a failure, power drawn from the previous level would act as a backup system. Between each level there were also emergency bulkheads, each with their own independent power systems, which protected against fire, bombing, and contamination. At the last level, there was also a thick concrete blast wall that merged organically with the deck.

  Once the platform stopped moving, the two men exited through an enormous square opening in the wall and were then on the planet’s surface. They were in the receiving hangar, although it was more of a shade port than an actual hangar. Bright sunlight streamed down. The generator vehicles, emergency power support units, and fire trucks stood silent.

  The two of them did not walk out onto the runway but exited through the rear instead. The grassland outside was pale green. Facing them only about five hundred meters away was the edge of the primeval forest. Rei had heard that Faery didn’t have a formal land army because the forest was just too nasty. I can believe it, he thought.

  With a thunderous roar, three interceptors took off in formation for an air patrol mission. The lieutenant and the major walked until they were clear of the shadow cast by the building’s enormous roof, then sat down on the grass. Faery’s version of grass was soft and pliant, and did not prickle at all. The blades were a blueish green, with deep blue streaks in the center. When cut, it smelled like irises.

  “The wind’s delicious,” Rei said, taking a deep breath. “Nothing like the filtered air below.”

  “I like it out here in midday because you can’t see the Bloody Road. I can’t relax when that thing’s there to weird me out.”

  “That’s something I wouldn’t expect you to say.”

  Major Booker drew the large combat knife he carried at his hip from its sheath, studied the trailing edge of the boomerang in his hand, and began cautiously shaving it. “Human instinct,” he said without stopping his whittling. “Not accurate, but very rarely wrong.”

  Rei urged him to try the boomerang out. Blowing the wood shavings off, the major stood up and threw it with a practiced hand. It sailed into the clear, nearly cloudless afternoon sky, making a faint whirring sound as it cut through the air.

  “It’s not coming back.” The boomerang traced a large circular path and then fell about fifteen meters away from them. “Was it because of the wind?”

  “This doesn’t even count as a wind,” said the major as he went to retrieve the boomerang. “I made one that always came back, no matter the wind conditions or how badly it flew.”

  He sat back down and took his knife to the wood again while Rei sprawled out at his side, looking up at the sky.

  “Did it break?”

  “What?”

  “That perfect boomerang. The one you said you made.”

  “I broke it. Actually, I didn’t make it to begin with. A computer did. I fed it the requirements and it executed thousands of simulations in a virtual airspace before spitting out the wing shape data. Then I input the data into a digitally controlled tooling machine and manufactured it. That was Unit 1.”

  “I take it from your tone that it didn’t work.”

  “The virtual airspace in the computer wasn’t a close enough model to real airspace. Next, I got the idea of putting an accelerometer into the wing and then fed that data into the computer. It could do variable pitch and all sorts of things. The one I fitted with a leading edge flap control was the best. That was Unit 2.”

  “And what about Unit 3?” asked Rei as he spit out a bitter stalk of grass he’d been chewing. “Was that one perfect?”

  The major stopped whittling and pointed his knife at the scar on his cheek. “This was the result. The wound that sent me to Faery. Ruined my good looks too.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Rei said, raising himself up on his elbows and peering at the major’s cheek. “You got that scar from a boomerang?”

  “It was fast. It pitched back at me from an angle I didn’t expect, and I couldn’t dodge it. Even though it had enough load resistance to give me a nasty clip, it still flew past me, made another turn, and came back again. I barely managed to catch it. I’d designed it to come back in a way that would make it easy to catch, but how it actually flew... It made that decision itself, based on the conditions at that moment. I never wanted to throw it again after that.”

  “Did you put a rocket motor on it or something?”

  “No. In the end, it was just a boomerang. But I’d installed a super-layered, single-chip artificial intelligence LSI into it. Since I could never get the feedback control to work, it was necessary to give it a control method to let it look ahead.”

  “Predictive control, you mean?”

  “Yeah. I threw the prototype boomerang again and again. Each time, the LSI would judge the conditions, master them, search for the causes of failure, and gradually learn to accurately predict them and respond instantly. Since the learning function was coded into the circuitry of the AI unit’s hardware, I didn’t even have to teach it the basic process. I just ordered it to use all the data from its sensors to adjust its flight path so that it would return to the launch point. That’s it. I flew it for six months and eventually lost the ability to predict how it would fly. Just when I was thinking that it was getting kind of dangerous, wham! I got three stitches from it. The doctor was clumsy and it hurt like hell. I thought about suing the wanker for malpractice, but he’s a doctor in the SAF. And since I’m technically his CO, I’d have to sue myself too.”

  Booker re-sheathed the knife and stretched. He got up, brushed bits of grass off his fatigues, and threw the boomerang. It flew level and then climbed steeply from about twenty meters away, tracing a large arc.

  “That’s the real thing,” the major said. “Machines are too stiff to fly naturally.” The wooden boomerang flew gracefully and landed lightly. “That’s why I can’t stand them.”

  “Is that a warning, or are you being ironic?” Rei asked. He had a hard time taking that statement seriousl
y from a man whose livelihood was building and operating advanced mechatronics.

  “Take it however you want,” the major answered in his usual offhand manner. “My likes and dislikes have nothing to do with you.”

  Rei was about to answer him, but figured that was a reasonable thing to say and so just watched silently as Booker retrieved the boomerang. As he was about to lie back down on the ground, the remote in his breast pocket chirped.

  “This is Lieutenant Fukai. We’re busy with Unit 3.”

  The voice on the other end asked if he knew where Major Booker was. General Cooley was looking for him.

  “Major,” he called. “Grandma Wrinkles wants you.”

  Booker shrugged.

  “Is it too much to hope that it’s news the Japanese commandant dropped dead?”

  “They say the review schedule’s been finalized and that she wants to give it to you.”

  “I won’t die alone. Let’s be chums and line up in front of the wall together. We’ll take everyone here with us.”

  As the two of them rode down on the absurdly oversized elevator, Rei wondered about the major’s extraordinary dislike of machines. He was struggling to understand it. It wasn’t a matter of how safe or dangerous they were, or how high they let you fly or didn’t; it was a visceral aversion that Booker had somehow developed. As he turned this over in his mind, a vision of the honor guard standing stiff as toy soldiers suddenly came to him.

  “Say, Jack...” After hesitating a moment, Rei voiced his thoughts. “What if we built some dolls?”

  Booker stopped the irritated tapping of the boomerang against his shoulder and tilted his head.

  “Androids,” Rei explained. “Or robots, I mean. We can have them line up and salute. I doubt we’d even need AI units for them. The commandant is nearsighted, right? So if we get the faces and skin texture down there’s no way he’d be able to tell from that distance. It’d work great, since he’s the only one that would get anywhere near them anyway.”

  “Aw, kid, don’t be crazy.”

  “I bet you’d do it if it was your idea.”

  “I’d have to be the one to call up the general and present that insane proposal. You think she’d say yes?” Booker flipped the boomerang over and continued. “Still... The idea’s worth considering. It is absurd, but I think I know a way to make it work.”

  He turned to face Rei and adopted a pompous tone. “I hereby order you to make the proposal to the general and persuade her to do it.”

  “Screw that,” Rei replied. “I’m no good with Super Granny.”

  “I’ll have you court-martialed for disobeying the orders of a superior officer, for mutiny, treason, and going AWOL.”

  “Oh, get real. When did going AWOL come into this?”

  “Add insulting a superior officer. Think about it, Rei. Which would you rather do: try to persuade thirty squadron members or one woman?”

  “The woman would be harder.”

  They had reached the maintenance level. Rei replaced the remote control on the wall.

  “There are women in the squadron, too. Look, you came up with the idea. I’m busy,” Booker said, walking quickly.

  “You seriously want to do this?”

  “I’ll check how feasible it is back in my office. Go see the general in my place. It’s just your good luck that I was ordered to be in charge here. Remember, you and I are coons from the same hole.”

  “You mean badgers.”

  “Oh, is that a real expression? Maybe rats would be better...”

  Rei had lost. He’d bought himself a mess of trouble that he didn’t need. Feeling depressed, he headed for the SAF’s command level.

  IN THE END, it was the selfish intransigence of the squadron’s human members that propelled the machine-hating Major Booker into the task of building their mechanized replacements. The members of the other squadrons behaved similarly, but the ones in Boomerang took it to a new level. Although it was hardly surprising they did so. Using data on childhood backgrounds, environmental histories, and a variety of other personal profile statistics, the FAF command computers had broken everyone down into several personality types and then compiled a group that had the lowest scores on the sociability and cooperation indices. The result was the 5th Squadron of the SAF. It was General Cooley who had put it together.

  The task of greeting VIP visitors should have been regarded as an honor, but the soldiers of Boomerang Squadron regarded it as an insult. Mainly because none of them thought of their visitors as honored guests. And so the consensus reaction was to show no courtesy at all. This didn’t arise from any group discussion, but merely from one person telling another that they didn’t want to do it, and the other person agreeing, and then telling another person, until by the end of the process it had become the general sentiment.

  Of course, Major Booker was a soldier in Boomerang Squadron as well, but his position and personality were different from those of the other members. He didn’t want to be demoted, whereas the vast majority of the rest couldn’t be busted any lower than they already were. Booker no longer held the bold, some might say nihilistic, worldview of those who lived constantly in the shadow of the fact that they might not return from their next sortie. He was a victor who had survived his environment. You needed to appreciate reality in order to win and live to see another day. If he had to put it into words, he would say that he was a man who knew what fear was.

  Rei understood the major’s position, but he now realized that there was a slight, or possibly significant, difference in how they saw things. In the end, Rei couldn’t quite completely understand Booker’s mentality. Rei was a soldier. And in any case, he wasn’t nearly the veteran that the major was.

  Despite everything, Rei was able to successfully make his difficult case to General Cooley. Booker greeted the news with a handshake and a “Great job,” saying that she never would have gone for it had he been the one presenting the proposal. He said it was Rei’s “youthful zeal” that had convinced her, and while their moods were buoyed they set about analyzing how to turn their abstract idea into an actual success.

  Naturally, the general’s condition for going along with the plan was that the dolls had to be well made. She had even told him that if the robots exceeded standards they would be used for honor guard duty from now on. The whole thing had quickly grown bigger and hairier than Rei had thought it would. “Leave it to me,” said Major Booker, spreading out his concept sketches. “No worries.” The project was already out of Rei’s hands. It may have been his idea originally, but he had the sense that it was growing into an enormous monster that he couldn’t control. They had two weeks to get it done.

  General Cooley talked the polymer materials branch of the Systems Corps into promising to produce some synthetic skin on short notice. She even arranged to set up a direct data link between the air force factory production system and the computer in Booker’s workroom, which allowed him to use the CAD/CAM system remotely. Using just the computer’s graphical display and keyboard and a light pen, he could immediately direct parts to be made. Noting Booker’s skill as he worked, Rei once again wondered why he had broken his perfect boomerang. To be honest, the major seemed to be enjoying using the computer. Enjoying it a lot more than shaving down wood with a knife.

  In the meantime, Rei acted as the pipeline between General Cooley and Major Booker, riding the automated monorail to the military manufacturing plant on errands, being the punching bag for the bitching from the plant team, and helping to put the prototype together. He thought he would die of boredom.

  He wanted to be back in the air with Yukikaze as soon as possible. Each time he saw the general he would ask her when the next hearing would be.

  “It seems they’ve been frustrated by the fact that they haven’t been able to find any evidence to support their position. You may as well consider yourself a full lieutenant now. Congratulations, Lieutenant,” she had said.

  Every time after that when he tried to g
et a more concrete answer out of her, she’d duck the question. Rei suspected she was working secretly with the authorities of their huge organization to destroy the evidence. The chances of that were slight, but if it were true it would be convenient for Rei.

  The frame of the prototype doll was completed five days before the commandant of the Japanese air force was due to arrive. Rei went to report this to the general. Walking into the SAF deputy commander’s spacious office, Rei saw a severed head sitting on the large desk and blanched in disgust. He knew it was a doll’s head, but it looked very lifelike. On top of that, it had the face of his former electronic warfare officer, the one who had got himself killed.

  “That’s the height of bad taste, General.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency. It’s an honor, sir,” said the head. “Yes, Your Excellency. It’s an honor, sir.”

  The general unfolded her hands and pressed the nape of the doll’s neck to silence it.

  “I’m making our honored dead into our honor guard. Don’t question my decision.”

  “The body frames have some slight defects. I thought you’d want to know,” Rei said, still standing. “We’d planned to use stronger materials but ended up having to use cheaper ones.”

  “It can’t be helped. For this batch, getting them ready in time has to take priority. Get them on the production line as soon as you can.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Wait. We’ll be receiving the preliminary hearing’s decision the day after tomorrow. I think you’re going to be all right.”

  “If they’re saying that wasn’t a Sylph I shot down, then what — ”

  “If it wasn’t a Sylph, it was a bitch. It had to be a JAM. We’ll have a short meeting about it tomorrow. Dismissed.”

  THE MILITARY JUDGE pronounced Rei clear of charges in the same conference room that the preliminary hearing had been held in.

  “We have found no physical evidence of misconduct by the accused.”

  “I’m innocent,” Rei said, standing. “I want that made clear. The site where that plane was shot down must be in the combat record. If you’d investigated the wreckage I’m sure you would’ve discovered that it was a JAM unit. So what are you playing at?”