“Right. So is Earth beating the JAM? Or is it the other way around?”
“I fail to see the humor, Lieutenant.”
They left Booker’s office and went into the SAF briefing room. The major switched on the wall display and pulled up some radar imagery.
“This is Banshee-IV. It’s maintaining its usual course even though no one’s aboard. Actually, we don’t know that for sure. Someone may be aboard.”
“Where’s this imagery from? An ADC recon plane?”
“No,” replied the major as he filled his coffee cup. “This is real-time data from Boomerang Unit 6, Minx. They’re using our proprietary SSL encryption to transmit. The reason why is that the FAF brass have begun a confidential investigation. They’re grilling Banshee’s crew for information and keeping the guys from the fighter squadron canned up like Spam. They hope that it’s the JAM that caused this. The second-best scenario would be a mechanical failure, which would be more serious but still relatively simple to deal with. But if it’s neither, if this incident was caused by someone from Earth, then it’s not just the FAF’s problem anymore.”
“And it would be a pretty damn good justification for a fight between the FAF and Earth. How pissed off would the general be if I said that?”
“Rei, please. You go around staying stuff like that and FAF Intelligence’ll have your arse in the stockade in a heartbeat. The FAF’s duty is to protect Earth from the JAM, but it has to protect itself as well. There are a lot of people on Earth lately who’re saying the FAF isn’t necessary, and Intelligence has to counter that.”
“Counter it without anyone noticing they’re countering it.”
“Exactly. They can’t be obvious about it. People on Earth are so far removed from the battlefield that they don’t understand how bad the JAM really are. Some are even wondering if the FAF are the JAM. There may even be people within our own forces who are working to dismantle the organization.”
Rei turned the coffee cup the major gave him around in his hand. “They think the FAF have created the JAM, you mean? What do you think about that, Jack?”
The major shut off the display and sat down. “I’ve definitely noticed a change in the JAM’s behavior between now and the time when I was a fighter pilot.”
“As in, they’re not as openly aggressive as they used to be?” Rei asked. “The JAM are altering their strategy, Jack. I think the threat now is higher than it used to be. The fact that there are now people saying the FAF isn’t necessary is proof that their invasion has advanced. If the JAM were a mirage created by the FAF, they wouldn’t be using that strategy.” Rei sipped his coffee. “But it doesn’t really matter to me. I’m a grunt. I just gotta follow orders. Right, Major?”
“You say ‘It doesn’t matter’ an awful lot lately for someone so talkative, you know.”
“The JAM are a powerful enemy. I’ve finally come to understand that, but that’s all I understand. If Lynn Jackson had spent time here, she probably wouldn’t have written such an optimistic book.”
“That’s possible,” said Major Booker, nodding. “She needs to write a follow-up. But I doubt she ever will. Back on Earth they just don’t understand how much of a threat the JAM is. It’s frightening.”
“I’ll leave that to the Intelligence forces to handle. We aren’t intelligence operators. We’re soldiers.”
“You got that right.”
Booker worked the display controls and brought up data on Banshee-IV. “You’re going to land on this thing with Yukikaze. You don’t need to worry about being attacked. We’ve confirmed that Banshee’s exhausted all her weaponry. I want you to find out what’s happened on board. Yukikaze is being installed with a special-purpose landing system as we speak, so it should be easy for you.” The major gestured toward the glass wall of the briefing room that overlooked the maintenance floor. Yukikaze was being towed out.
“So it’s going to be kind of like a carrier landing? I thought they had to extend a hook from Banshee to recover its fighters.”
“That’s what they did in the old days, back in the age of airships when they’d have the planes hanging beneath the carrier. But times have changed. Any plane can land on Banshee, and it’s been designed to take on aircraft making emergency landings. Special equipment isn’t necessary. You should be able to land there with just a standard arresting hook, but we’re still installing an automatic carrier landing system. It’s nothing fancy, just modifying the avionics software a bit. And to be safe, we’re fitting six wire anchor launchers along her underside as well.”
Major Booker suggested that they test them out, so he and Rei went down to the maintenance floor. After the mechanics gave them the thumbs-up, Rei got into Yukikaze’s cockpit while the major settled into the rear seat. The mechanics removed the external ladder and moved away from the plane.
“Rei, look at your arresting hook control panel. There should be an AUX control switch. That should trigger the launchers for the wire anchors. Give it a try.”
Rei turned the switch. With a loud wham, thin wires shot out from under Yukikaze and embedded themselves into a dummy board that had been laid down over the floor of the bay. The sharp, recurved heads of the wires stuck fast.
“Normally, you wouldn’t need this because the plane would be caught by the arresting cables. There’s a self-propelled, robotic spotting dolly on Banshee’s deck. It keeps the plane’s attitude correct and shuttles the launch bar back, but we don’t know if it’s working. If it isn’t, the aircraft stowage elevator may not be working, either.” Booker climbed out of the plane.
“If it isn’t,” Rei said as he followed the major down, “Yukikaze will be stuck on Banshee’s deck. I won’t exactly be able get out and stroll around out there. The thing is flying, after all.”
“It’s moving at less than 120 knots, but yeah, it’d be certain suicide if you tried it.”
“Even if I wasn’t blown off I probably wouldn’t even be able to breathe because of the wind pressure.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.”
“It better be a good one, Jack. If I go rolling off of there, ‘Oops, sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it.”
“You’ve had wind tunnel resistance training, right? Relax. Leave it to me.”
Rei followed the major across the maintenance floor and into the personnel elevator.
“We have another place to go?”
“I want to introduce you to your partner. His name’s Tom John, from the Systems Corps. Everyone calls him “Tomahawk.” I think his real first name may be Thomas, but I’m not sure. What I do know for sure is that he’s a genius at avionics.”
“Tomahawk? He’s an Indian?”
“Yeah. They say he’s a genuine Native American. Think he was born in Canada.”
They entered the SAF mission control room. It was a highceilinged chamber, its walls filled with battle progress displays crowded with code letters and data transmitted from the Tactical Air Force’s GHQ.
Tom John was drinking coffee and chatting with a female operator. Seeing Major Booker, he put the cup down onto the console and saluted. He had sunken cheeks, reddish brown skin, and long black hair that was tied back. His physique was slight. Compared to the large woman next to him, he could almost be mistaken for a child. But the impression Rei got from him belied his physical appearance. He was, without a doubt, a soldier. Rei thought that his eyes were like those of a hawk.
“Hi, Tom,” said the major in a friendly tone. “Welcome to the SAF. So, getting to know us?”
The operator coughed and turned back to her console.
“Yep,” answered Tomahawk with a smile. “You’re lucky — the SAF has a lot of pretty girls here.”
“Speaking of, our little tomboy Minx should be back soon. How’s she doing, Hikalatia?”
“Minx is scheduled to return at 2220,” said the operator. “Banshee-IV has no means of attack, and there’s been no unusual activity.”
“Like I said before, Banshee exhausted a
ll of its missiles and gun ammo. But there is the possibility that it could be directed to crash into Faery Base. Anyway, Tom, let me introduce you. This is Lieutenant Rei Fukai, one of our top Sylph drivers.”
“Man, the SAF really does run itself like an independent air force. Everything you guys have is top-shelf. I’m sure your skills are worthy of your plane, Lieutenant. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m good as long as I’ve got Yukikaze.”
Rei expressionlessly held out his hand, and the other man clasped it, accepting the handshake.
“Huh,” said Booker. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen a Boomerang pilot shake someone’s hand. Tom, you’re the only one aside from Yukikaze that Rei’s ever extended a hand to. The only things he trusts are high-tech combat machines.”
“Really?” said Tomahawk with a smile. “Then maybe he sees me as a machine.” He laughed lightly, but Rei thought that his smile was strangely sad.
THE NEXT MORNING, Boomerang Squadron Unit 3, Yukikaze, took off into a clear sky.
As they entered a steep climb, the ACLS beacon ran through its self-test. Rei confirmed that the carrier simulator on the ground was giving him an okay. He rechecked the engine gauges and confirmed that all caution lights were clear. Speed was Mach 0.9.
He slid the throttle forward. The airspeed indicator reeled through the numbers, and not even ninety seconds later their speed was Mach 2.3. He leveled off their climb at an altitude of 13,000 meters, cruising at supersonic speed.
“It’ll be winter soon,” said Tomahawk from the backseat. “The autumn colors in the forest are already turning, but the weather’s still a little hot. Around where I’m from back on Earth, they call that ‘Indian summer.’ It’s like the spirits are sending some last warm light to the world as a gift to us.”
“Down there the war seems far away. It’d be the perfect sightseeing spot, if it weren’t for the JAM,” said Rei.
“Faery doesn’t belong to us or to the JAM.”
Rei rechecked their position on his HUD. They were about to cross the Absolute Defense Line. He activated the passive airspace radar.
“I don’t think the Earth itself belongs to us, Tom. The only thing people really own are their own hearts.”
“So there are some people who believe that God didn’t give us the animals and plants and all of nature on Earth to do with as we please. That’s a very Asian way of seeing things.”
“I don’t really consider myself Asian. Maybe it’s the Faery way of seeing things. You live here long enough and you start thinking that way. Earth doesn’t belong to humans. That’s a fact. Or, at the very least, it doesn’t belong to me.”
“I agree,” Tom said, sounding satisfied. “Me, I didn’t come here thinking that I wanted to defend the Earth, but even so I can’t deny that humans control it.”
“‘Control’ doesn’t necessarily equal ‘own.’”
“I feel like I’m about to get a lecture on the evils of the capitalist system.”
“I’d always heard that Native Americans value generosity.”
“I’m not really conscious of myself in that way, the same as how you don’t really think of yourself as Asian. But different races do see things differently. My grandfather had a saying: ‘When everyone eats together, the man who cares only about filling his own belly isn’t your friend.’ What he meant was, the only things that belong to you are what you can eat, what you can’t eat belongs to everyone, and what you haven’t hunted yet belongs to no one.”
“Then by that reasoning, Earth doesn’t belong to humans. It’s too big for anyone to swallow.”
The air collision avoidance alarm sounded. Ahead were four Tactical Air Force fighters, flying at the same altitude and heading. Yukikaze’s escorts. As the Super Sylph approached, the fighters peeled off to the left and right to open a path. Yukikaze flew ahead in a straight line and overtook them in an instant.
“Our TAF backup ends here. From this point on, we’re on our own.”
Rei toggled the master arm switch to ARM.
“You know, I think your grandfather had a point.”
Maybe if everyone around me were more like that, I’d be a different person, thought Rei. Everyone else just seemed like they were trying to thrust their hands into the bellies of others.
“My father and grandfather spent their entire lives on the reservation. But that life wasn’t for me. I came here because there weren’t any avionics jobs in the air force reserves, either.”
“I heard you helped make a lot of Yukikaze’s electronics systems. She’s a good plane. I respect that.”
“I worked in the sections that developed the basic theory for her high-speed fire control system and the early-warning radar system. But it’d be kind of pushing things to say that I made them. That’s not something anyone can do on their own. So what brought you to Faery, Lieutenant?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Using the word ‘respect’ doesn’t seem like something a Boomerang pilot would do. I was warned that you all were mean, icy-hearted bastards.”
“I am. I don’t think about protecting anything but Yukikaze. Not the Earth or my homeland.” The image of his former girlfriend’s face suddenly floated up in his mind. No, not even her. If he was being honest with himself, he never really knew her at all. All he could remember clearly was the sight of her back as she walked away.
“Speaking of your homeland, Lieutenant, I went there once. I wasn’t allowed in, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was because of my heart. It’s mechanical. I guess you could call me a cyborg,” Tomahawk said jokingly.
“A cyborg, huh? But why should that have mattered? An artificial heart’s no different from having a prosthetic arm or corneal implants. Why wouldn’t they let you in?”
“The problem was the energy source. It’s powered by a piece of plutonium 238. The output’s only twenty watts, but even though it’s a low-power mechanism it’s still a nuclear one.”
“And that’s why they denied you entry? That’s ridiculous. Japan has nukes.”
“They’re afraid of uncontrolled nuclear material. It’s not just Japan. People like me have a lot of trouble living on Earth. They don’t use nuclear-powered hearts that much nowadays. The heat they generate makes it hard to control fluctuations in body temperature, and treatment is difficult because it’s nuclear.”
“Is there a danger you could become a human bomb?”
“There’s no way it could ever explode. There’s so little nuclear material that it’s fundamentally impossible for it to cause a detonation. But if the containment capsule breaks, it could contaminate my surroundings with radioactivity. And if that happens, naturally I’d be finished as well. It’s a good heart, though. Without it, I would have died a long time ago. Still... Every so often, I wonder if I’m not actually a machine. When I’m denied entry to a country, it’s like they’re telling me I’m not human.”
“Don’t think that way. You’re alive. That’s enough. Or are you telling me that you’re actually a corpse? Because as far as I know, corpses can’t talk. By the way, you’re in the FAF, right? I just realized I never asked what your rank is.”
“I’m a captain,” answered Tomahawk. “For what it’s worth.”
“I didn’t mean any offense, Captain, sir.”
Rei took his right hand off the side stick and saluted.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Lieutenant.”
“We’re fine. I trust Yukikaze.”
“I trust your skill. I know the Super Sylph demands advanced piloting skills.”
“We’re nearly there. I’m switching on the armament control system. Prepare for combat.”
“Roger.”
Five minutes passed with neither of them speaking. Suddenly, an emergency transmission came in: PAN, PAN, PAN. DE FTNS. CODE U, U, U. AR.
“It’s from the tactical nav support satellite. ‘Your plane is drawing dangerously close. Change course.’
It’s weird to see that when we’re not closing in on an enemy. Respond to the IFF code.”
“Roger.”
After Yukikaze’s identity was confirmed, Banshee-IV’s exact position was sent to them in real time. A short time later, the carrier appeared on Yukikaze’s active radar as well. They began their descent.
“Call Banshee for landing clearance.”
The IFF was operating. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Banshee confirmed Yukikaze’s side number and granted them landing clearance. Arresting hook, down.
“What’s the deal? There’s nothing weird at all here. Maybe those Banshee pilots were having a mass hallucination.”
They passed the marshal point. Range forty kilometers. Relative altitude from Banshee 1,500 meters. The carrier’s automatic precision guidance system was operating.
Autopilot, off. ACLS, set. Auto-throttle, set. Fuel level, weight, tank distribution, and center of gravity, check.
They passed through the 30-kilometer gate. Speed 200 knots.
Landing gear and flaps, down. Anti-skid brake controller, off. Speed brake, extended.
They passed through the 10-kilometer gate. Relative altitude 300 meters. Banshee-IV came into view.
“Jesus, that thing’s huge. It’s so big, it’s kind of unsettling.”
“It says to use Fly 3 for landing.”
Banshee’s flight decks were designated as Fly 1, 2, and 3. Fly 3 was used exclusively for landings.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Don’t you think they’re being way too accommodating?”
They received the cue to begin their descent. They fell at a rate of 18 meters per minute and soon crossed the glide slope. The carrier’s landing guidance system meatball was now in sight.
“001, Sylph, meatball,” Rei called in.
The target designator on his HUD had now captured Banshee. As they approached, the carrier loomed larger and larger. The TD indicated part of Banshee’s starboard side, then suddenly jumped to the left: the target was so large that the system couldn’t capture the entire thing at once.
“Executing manual approach.”
“Why?” asked Tom. “You can use the ACLS.”
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