Good Luck, Yukikaze

by Chohei Kambayashi

  This was the first routine mission for her since she’d gained her new body, the Maeve. Yukikaze had returned to her regular duties. Rei was momentarily overcome with emotion as he realized this. He felt as if his long leave from battle and rehabilitation were finally over. At long last, he was back on the job.

  It was not a long gap to have on his record, but it wasn’t an insignificant one. Rather, it had seen a remarkable change in the situation. Now that Yukikaze predicted that the JAM were no longer ignoring humans, General Cooley seemed to be challenging the JAM to a showdown… But so what, Rei thought to himself. It wasn’t his problem; he was only fighting so that he wouldn’t get killed, just as he always had.

  Even so, Rei was aware that his situation had changed as well. The need for a new SAF strategy had its origins in the incident in which he and the old Yukikaze had been involved. As a direct participant, he couldn’t well say that this change in the war wasn’t his problem. If he were to survive, he couldn’t simply ignore his relationship with the world anymore. The old him had been like a man walking a tightrope without the benefit of a balancing rod. His life was still a tightrope act, but now he was aware of the need he had for relationships with others to act as that rod. Trying to support himself with one might easily lead to falling from the rope, and the old him had feared that, but he saw now that it was all in how one used it. If he mastered that, it would serve him well. His long break from routine sorties had taught him that, thought Rei.

  Lieutenant Katsuragi in the rear seat reported that all systems were green.

  This man was living dangerously, just as my old self once did. But it’s not my problem, Rei thought coldly. So long as he wasn’t a threat to Rei’s own survival, how Katsuragi lived his life didn’t matter. Rei wasn’t his teacher or his doctor. If he wasn’t aware of the danger to himself, then no advice Rei offered would matter. It’s Katsuragi’s problem, Rei thought, not mine.

  Rei checked Yukikaze’s gauges once more. All warning lights were clear.

  “This is B-1, all clear. Ready for sortie.”

  The ground crew gave him the good luck sign. Rei answered it by raising his right fist, then pointed Yukikaze’s nose toward the runway. He stopped at the taxiway exit and waited for clearance from the control tower. The weather was rainy, with high winds.

  Clearance granted, Yukikaze took off, climbing through the rain clouds. Her objective was a JAM base code-named Cookie. At the moment, it was the next major target after Richwar base, and the FAF was throwing most of its forces at it.

  Feeling good that its strike on Richwar base had achieved devastating results while holding its own losses to a minimum, the FAF had adopted a similar strategy of launching an all-out attack on the JAM’s main base, despite the misgivings of Major Booker and the rest of the SAF. The plan was to gather their forces at a front-line base, then attack in continuous waves until the enemy base had been wiped out. To that end, the FAF had committed nearly half of its tactical air forces from their bases. They’d be moved to TAB-8, the largest front-line base nearest the target. From there, they would make their attacks, making the round trip between there and the target as many times as it took. The SAF would be on full rotation to provide recon for the operation. Even a new arrival like Lieutenant Katsuragi was going to get a taste of real combat, whether he liked it or not.

  Operations as large as this had been attempted several times by the SAF, but they’d never been effective till now. When they’d try to concentrate on one target, the JAM would come in from an unexpected direction to attack Faery base and then attempt to penetrate the entrance to the Passageway that led to Earth. The FAF would then have to pull its forces back from the front lines in order to repel the threat, and in the end they would fall back into fighting a defensive battle. Aside from that, each time the SAF thought that they’d wiped out a major enemy base, either a new one would be discovered or else the base that had been presumed destroyed would unexpectedly spring back to life. Where the supply routes were that supported these bases was a question that had plagued the SAF for a long time. Their Strategic Reconnaissance Corps had sent out recon planes, launched strategic spy sats, and kept the bases under surveillance till their eyes were bloodshot, but thus far their efforts had borne no fruit.

  Thanks to their constant scouting, a map of Faery had been compiled. However, try as they might, they could never discover the location of the JAM’s main forces. Against the advanced interceptors the JAM fielded, the FAF sent out dedicated strategic recon planes that, unlike Yukikaze, lacked the means to repel them in order to see which would get shot down. If the planes returned home, that meant there were no JAM in the area. If they did, then at least it would tell them that the JAM were hidden in the area under surveillance. Up to this point, no manned planes had been sent out for strategic reconnaissance. Even strategic spy satellites didn’t last long before they too were shot down by the JAM.

  After decades of fighting this way, the Strategic Recon Corps claimed that they had identified a single pattern: JAM bases seemed to be related most closely with the one that was furthest away in the opposite direction, rather than with the next closest one. In other words, what they took to be the JAM’s main bases scattered in a rough circle around the Passageway were paired, not with their immediate partners, but symmetrically with the ones on the side opposite them.

  Each time the FAF would attack one of these bases, there would be no sign of any of their neighboring bases sending aid. However, while they repelled attacks on the Passageway or Faery base launched from another base, the base the FAF had first attacked would recover behind their backs. The only explanation that seemed to fit was that the attacking base was also resupplying the one previously hit. The Strategic Reconnaissance Corps claimed that the behavior pattern they’d discovered indicated that the JAM did not keep all of their bases constantly active. Instead, they would mainly use one pair of widely separated bases, shifting through the pairs one after another as they’d launch their attacks. They had no actual proof of this, though. The neighboring bases, which should have been inactive, did not go completely unused, and the JAM did occasionally launch counterattacks from them. There were also no traces of transport or materials used for repairing the damaged bases coming from the paired bases. Not one JAM transport plane had ever been spotted, nor any JAM vehicles moving overground. Either the JAM used underground tunnels or had access to dimensional transport technology similar to the Passageway. In short, while the supply routes between their bases was a mystery, years’ worth of accumulated recon data suggested some sort of relationship between these pairs of bases. At the very least, the FAF could seize on this point to set up an attack operation that wouldn’t be a waste of time and possibly even break the stalemate they were in. To this end, the FAF authorities had considered the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps’ proposal, but realized that their proposed attack operation would take an enormous amount of resources and planning to carry out.

  First of all, the FAF needed to find out what sort of attacks would be effective against the JAM bases. Once they knew that, they’d need to hit both of the paired bases simultaneously. As their forces stood, this was a difficult proposition. Hitting even one of the enemy’s main bases was a major operation in the best of times. Losses would be high. To hit two of them at the same time would require double the number of forces, just in case the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps were wrong. Carrying it out would be a gamble. If they lost, the JAM would swarm the Passageway and invade Earth, which was too high a wager to risk. It was the decision of the FAF’s highest level strategy session that they would have to wait to carry it out in the future. However, the work of the recon corps wasn’t simply ignored. When the operation to hit Richwar base had been put together, Cookie had been declared a secondary target, based on the recon corps’ determination that the bases were paired.

  Although the FAF’s mission was nominally to intercept airborne enemy attacks and prevent the JAM from invading Earth, the FAF als
o knew that launching proactive attacks against the enemy would be met with retaliatory strikes. If the FAF could determine the direction from which the retaliation would originate, they could use that intel to adopt a more aggressive strategy. While the preparations for a counterattack had previously been tentative, FAF fighters would be able to more effectively form a defensive line if they knew where the enemy would be coming from. In any case, unless they discovered the means to completely destroy the JAM infestation, the war would never end.

  What was the point of this battle? Rei wondered as he guided Yukikaze to the target airspace. The organization known as the FAF was fighting the JAM so that the organization itself could survive. If the authorities on Earth decided that the war was no longer necessary, then the FAF would be dismantled. Even though that wasn’t a realistic possibility at that point, if FAF methods were judged ineffective then the FAF would be reorganized, with a shakeup occurring at the top. The people who lived in the organization probably feared losing their political lives. Their attitude was that, so long as the battle against the JAM was effective, there was no problem. However, if it appeared that they weren’t getting results on the battlefield, their political influence would be in question. That was why they were desperate. Even as they battled the JAM, there were internal battles that needed to be won if the people at the top were to survive within the organization. The ones fighting these battles worried more about losing their positions than about losing their lives to the JAM. The Strategic Recon Corps is a good example, Rei realized. They’d proposed this plan based on JAM behavior patterns in combat so that their organization would survive. Declaring a major discovery, sans proof, was the act of an organization that needed to report something in order to justify its existence. Now their reputation for providing effective recon results was on the rise. If someone claimed their corps was unneeded, any move to dismantle it and let it be absorbed by the Strategic Air Corps or the Tactical Combat Air Corps would face opposition. If things worked out well, their organization might achieve stability and become an influential voice in the FAF. It was for this purpose, for this effect, that the JAM bases were being targeted.

  In short, the humans weren’t fighting the JAM as individuals. The humans didn’t live autonomously. Major Booker had talked about it like it was a matter of course, but something about that seemed strange, Rei thought. Wouldn’t it be more normal to worry about being killed by the JAM than about fighting to protect the reputation or power one had amassed? At the very least, that was how Rei felt. Most other people would probably see it the same way as far as their individual lives went, but survival within their organizations was also a matter of great concern. That probably held true for every respectable human out there. People were living things that existed in groups. When a group known as an organization was threatened, the lives of the individuals within it were similarly threatened, and that was true for everyone from the moment they were born. It was even the same for monkeys and dogs. Living in groups was just safer. Monkeys, dogs, and people all ran this same program for survival. That was just as true for Rei. So then why did this manner of living seem so dubious to him? Wasn’t it more likely that he was the one to be doubted here?

  Could I really live on my own? Rei wondered. He thought he could. But as a single individual, he’d ultimately have to admit to being mistaken. The reality was that if he were to be separated from the SAF and Yukikaze, he’d have no chance to survive against the JAM. So then where did this mistaken belief originate? It had to be because the environment of the SAF made you believe it. So long as this organization existed, he wouldn’t have to bother with the discord among the others. That was the job of their leader, General Cooley.

  Rei recalled Major Booker once saying that their fates depended on General Cooley’s decisions. And truly, she was doing a good job. Good enough to let himself and the other pilots believe that they could survive on their own. Rei also couldn’t forget the meaning of Major Booker’s words for him to “think of your own survival strategy.”

  Of course, that was what made the SAF different from all the other organizations there. Even while they recognized that they could not live alone, they also demanded to survive as individuals. This was tough to pull off. If you weren’t the sort of person who could say that they didn’t care about other people, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand the isolation. This was probably different for people who existed in other organizations.

  “Friendlies, approaching. Confirming Tactical Combat Air Corps 9th TFS, returning from TAB-8. Number of planes: nine. Three minutes behind us, port side. Relative altitude: 1800. They’re making a low-altitude fly-by. No JAM detected nearby,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi from behind. It was the first time he’d spoken during the sortie.

  “Roger.”

  Rei imagined what this taciturn man was thinking. First of all would be his mission. Next, would be…Well, that would be the mission too. Just carrying out his orders and nothing else, especially while he was aboard a plane he still wasn’t used to, like Yukikaze. He probably didn’t have any spare time to think about anything else. Even if he did, he wouldn’t spend it like the guys in the 9th TFS passing below them, listening to the recreational DJ shows the FAF broadcast or the chatter going on between the other planes. He’d be an inhuman man, devoted to carrying out his duty like a machine. That was what other people might say about him, but Rei knew that they’d be wrong. If Lieutenant Katsuragi possessed the same emotions Rei did, then he’d be more concerned with his own existence than with doing his duty.

  “Lieutenant Katsuragi,” Rei called back to him. “What sort of work did you do for Colonel Rombert?”

  “Nothing that has anything to do with this job.”

  Exactly the sort of answer he expected.

  “General Cooley’s concerned that it does. Well, it doesn’t matter to me. We can talk about whatever you like, but keeping your jaws moving helps to keep you from getting drowsy. Talk with me. What do you think of the JAM?”

  “What do you mean what do I think of them? What do you want to know?”

  He really is like a particularly inflexible computer, Rei thought. Did I really used to be like that? Hell, I probably still am, even now.

  “Have you ever seen the JAM?”

  “No. Never,” Lieutenant Katsuragi replied.

  “Even being in the FAF, formerly in the Intelligence Forces, no less,” Rei said. “It’s no wonder people on Earth doubt the JAM even exist.”

  “Do you doubt their existence?”

  “What makes you think I would?”

  “I interpret what you said as doubt, and that you want people from Earth or me to see and confirm that they exist for you.”

  “I have no doubts that the JAM exist. Either we kill them, or they’ll kill us,” Rei said. “What I doubt is whether the JAM we see are truly the JAM themselves. Those things are shadows. The real JAM are invisible. We’re fighting shadows, shadows that can pack a real punch.”

  “So?”

  “So, nothing,” said Rei. “It’s just something that I think. I just wanted your opinion on it.”

  “Honestly, I never gave it any thought. The Intelligence Forces are pretty much entirely concerned with humans. What we’re after are human spies, not the JAM. We investigate their methods of monitoring us and transmitting messages back to Earth. My specialty was investigating electronic methods, so my job had nothing to do with the JAM.”

  “That’s not going to cut it in the SAF. Unless you think about what sort of enemy you’re fighting and what the JAM are, you’ll never be able to do your job,” Rei said. He could now see the 9th TFS passing by low on the port side. “I don’t know how you feel about it, but I don’t want to get killed by an enemy I don’t really understand.”

  “Or by Yukikaze?”

  “Yeah. How did you…?”

  “Do you really believe this plane has consciousness?” Lieutenant Katsuragi asked.

  “Who told you that?”

&nbs
p; “Major Booker gave me a lecture about her. He didn’t say she had consciousness, but he told me that, since each plane learns from its pilot’s flying style, it can’t help but pick up their idiosyncrasies. It becomes a combat machine optimized to its individual pilot, so you have to be careful when you fly in another plane.”

  “I don’t think Yukikaze has consciousness in the way humans do. The same goes for the JAM. I don’t know if it’s consciousness, but she does have the ability to alter her behavior based on the actions I take. The only way I can interpret it is that Yukikaze possesses something beyond unconscious reflex, something akin to consciousness.”

  “It could just be that you don’t completely understand the behavior programs and computer hardware installed in her,” Katsuragi said. “Not just you, though. Yukikaze may be a machine that has accumulated so much knowledge that nobody can understand her at this point. Since you can’t understand her, even though she’s just unconsciously carrying out logical functions, you think of them as representing consciousness. A computer is an advanced simulator that can model anything. It could even simulate conscious behavior.”

  “You’re only thinking about this with your head. You say that because you have no physical experience flying her.”

  “You believe that what I think is just an empty theory? You’ve been flying Yukikaze for a long time, but say—”

  “Whether Yukikaze is self-aware or not doesn’t really matter, Lieutenant. The question is whether she behaves as though she is. That may be due to the reason you just gave, and I’m not saying that it’s wrong. The vital point here is that Yukikaze is a being beyond our comprehension. Even you must realize that intellectually. Yukikaze has a ‘something’ we can’t understand. That may be consciousness, some unconscious function that mimics it, or even some machine consciousness completely different from what humans possess. But what it is doesn’t matter.”

  To ask, “What is consciousness?” or whether Yukikaze dreams with purpose, when we couldn’t answer these questions about ourselves, sounds like the subject of some scholarly thesis, Rei thought. It might be an interesting waste of time that could help him understand Yukikaze, so Rei didn’t think the line of inquiry was entirely trivial, but they weren’t questions that would be answered easily or soon. It could be like a huge puzzle, to be solved at his leisure, and not having an immediate answer shouldn’t get in the way of his duties.