“This definitely isn’t the work of a human,” Rei said. “It shows all the hallmarks of a computer’s doing.”
“Amazing… For Yukikaze, so long as that target data about the Systems Corps exists, her only explanation for those two extra men is that they’re JAM. Even if the count is wrong.”
“Making the number of humans match up really isn’t what Yukikaze’s concerned about here.”
“I agree. I’m definitely getting the feeling that she’s been manipulated into acting this way by the JAM. It isn’t so much a question of logic, but rather of her intuition. I think she’s trying as hard as possible to logically rectify the existence of something that shouldn’t exist.”
“Which is what I believe I said at the start, Edith.”
“Yeah…if the original data were consistent with the target data, then Yukikaze wouldn’t have tried to match the numbers up,” Foss said. “This is all caused by the names of the dead men also being registered in Systems Corps’ computers as deceased. The Systems Corps probably hasn’t even considered that two of its people have the same names as two dead men. Still, the discrepancy would be revealed as soon as they confirmed that Lieutenant Burgadish and Lieutenant Lancome are dead.”
“There probably isn’t anyone in Systems Corps who would know either of them. Well, that’s to be expected. Those guys are the elite. I doubt they’d know anyone who served on the front lines.”
“In other words, the only people who’d realize what was going on just by looking at the names would be us—you and Yukikaze and the SAF.”
“Here at Faery base, at any rate. The JAM acknowledged that by sending those two in to be the surplus,” Rei said.
“Only one man could have arranged this. The only one who could modify data without alerting the computers there or arousing the suspicions of the humans in Systems Corps would be the retraining unit’s true supervisor, Colonel Rombert. He has to be a JAM.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Even after all this?”
“You heard Major Booker before, didn’t you? There are those who may not be JAM but who would still use them to destroy the FAF. He might even be acting as an agent for some government agency aiming for total global supremacy,” Rei said.
“That’s impossible. The JAM are the enemies of all humanity.”
“I don’t think the JAM would agree with you. They know by now that human beings are life-forms that would do exactly that sort of thing. They intend to use that aspect of human nature to make the FAF destroy itself from within. Right now, the JAM have positioned the retraining unit as their vanguard, and they’ve used Yukikaze as their messenger to deliver their proclamation as they launch their final attack on the FAF. It really is a declaration of war. If we keep quiet, the FAF authorities won’t know about it for a while.”
“So the JAM tell us and then sit back to see what moves we make?”
“The battle’s beginning. Or, actually, it’s been going on for a while now. The JAM don’t rest,” Rei said. “By neutralizing Yukikaze, they’ve robbed the SAF of a part of its military might. Putting her into this state is a tactical attack by the JAM. It’s like they’ve hypnotized her and gotten her so paranoid and worried about ghosts that she can’t think of anything else. I doubt she could even fly a combat mission now. Unless we snap her out of this, we’re going to lose.”
Captain Foss considered who Rei meant would lose in this. Yukikaze would lose, and that would also be a loss for Captain Fukai, she thought. They really were one and the same now. This new species of composite life-form was also a part of the combat machine that made up the SAF. And as far as the SAF was concerned, the FAF’s fate wasn’t their problem. Their primary concern remained their own personal survival.
This unit I joined really is nothing but trouble, Captain Foss thought. If they took the action Captain Fukai had suggested to return Yukikaze to normal and launched an electronic attack to delete the target data from the Systems Corps’ computer without authorization, it would be a clear violation of FAF military regulations. That kind of arbitrary action wouldn’t be tolerated. She had to stop this; that was all there was to it.
But what then, Edith Foss asked herself, as Captain Fukai might have. Was she so convinced that she was willing to die in battle for it? That’s right, she thought. Right now, this is about my own life or death. Which was more likely to guarantee her survival, either taking the side of the FAF as a soldier or believing in the SAF’s might and supporting Yukikaze and Captain Fukai as his physician? Which position would let her accept the consequences if the choice proved to be wrong?
Captain Fukai and the others in the SAF don’t trouble themselves over these matters because they just aren’t normal. But I am, thought Captain Foss. And that was when it hit her.
She’d never win against the JAM by thinking of herself as a normal human. Hadn’t she been the one who’d said that the way for them to win was to become that new species of composite life-form? She didn’t want to have to die to confirm her prediction, which was another way of saying that she’d be satisfied if she could accomplish that feat of evolution herself. There was nothing for her to agonize over here. If she wanted to live, then she should become one with the SAF. That way she would finally know if she were right.
“We can’t lose,” Captain Foss said. “I don’t want to lose either.”
“Then I’m issuing the order to attack,” said Rei. “I’ll have Yukikaze engage them.”
“No, you mustn’t,” said Captain Foss.
“Why not?”
“We need time. Yukikaze isn’t at full strength now. She still needs to have her engine replaced and repairs and maintenance done.”
“I suppose, but—”
“Captain Fukai, if you attack the retraining unit now, I predict that they will immediately initiate destructive action. If we don’t have some sort of plan to counter them, then Yukikaze could end up being destroyed.”
“Then what are you saying we should do?”
“I think the saying that a sound mind requires a sound body applies to Yukikaze now. Part of Yukikaze’s unease may be due to her physical damage. Captain Fukai, you should give top priority to Yukikaze’s repairs, then attack only once you have permission from General Cooley. We have to come up with a plan that will allow the entire SAF to survive.”
“Edith, to Yukikaze, inconsistencies in data are a real threat. We humans may think of it as some sort of illusory code, but she sees leaving it unrectified as the literal potential for her own destruction. If we don’t deal with it soon—”
“I understand that. I understand it better than you do, even without your telling me.”
“Oh, like you understand anything about Yukikaze,” Rei said.
“You’re the only one who can calm her down. If you’re too hasty and make a mistake in dealing with her, there’s a risk that she’ll go wild. No human would be able to control her then. You have to look ahead. Attacking now would be reckless. The JAM want you to be preoccupied with Yukikaze’s condition. If we go rushing into this, it’ll be game over very quickly. The end, full stop. We can’t let that happen.”
“Stopping the game on doctor’s orders, huh?” Rei said. “But will Yukikaze go along with it?”
“As a human, all I want is to avoid losing. You and Yukikaze both need some time to cool off and collect your thoughts. Make it an order, Captain Fukai. You’re the only one who can persuade her.”
Rei hadn’t realized how rashly he’d been acting. But, he thought, maybe what Edith is saying is correct, and the JAM are trying to keep me too wrapped up with Yukikaze to see that.
And it was true that they’d be at a disadvantage if they launched an attack now. The only way they’d be able to go up against the JAM would be to utilize the full military might of the SAF. The SAF tactical computers could handle the deletion of the target data. They should use the SAF. They could just have Yukikaze confirm that the ghosts were gone without putting any undue stress
on her.
“Yukikaze, maintain combat readiness,” Rei ordered. He knew that she probably wouldn’t accept an outright cancellation of the attack. She’d never understand him if he told her, “You’re acting weird and need some rest.”
“Then contact the maintenance team and have them effect repairs on your airframe,” he continued. “I’m going to deplane in the meantime and try to use the tactical computer in SAF headquarters to attack the target data. Respond when I call you. If you require me, contact me via the tactical computer. That is all.”
Roger, Captain Fukai.
After flashing the message onto the main display, Yukikaze shut down the T-FACPro II software herself. The program apparently placed too much of an additional burden on her resources and interfered with combat. That was probably it. And, thinking about how Yukikaze still trusted him, Rei climbed down from the cockpit.
3
IT WAS QUIET in the SAF command center, with even the main screen along the front wall switched off. No fighters were out on sortie; as soon as the missing Yukikaze had been discovered, General Cooley had recalled all the search planes and ordered their crews to get some rest. Instead, the only ones who were busy were the data analysts. Everyone had been called in, even the off-duty staffers, and they’d been gathered there along with Major Booker and Captain Foss to begin the analysis of the data Yukikaze had returned with. Once the first stage of analysis was complete, General Cooley had her staff take a break. She’d told the pair in charge of data analysis and aircraft maintenance that they shouldn’t leave, and so the general had stayed behind in the center with them. She waited for Major Booker and Captain Foss to make their reports after going off to check on Captain Fukai and Lieutenant Katsuragi.
The data were even more useful than we’d hoped, General Cooley thought as she took a light meal of a sandwich and black tea before turning to check in on the work being done.
The method the JAM had used to lure in Yukikaze, the existence of that unknown space, the JAM voice, Captain Fukai’s response to it, the actions Yukikaze had taken to escape… It was all shocking. Lieutenant Katsuragi, who’d come to them from the Intelligence Forces, had reacted the most normally by getting angry when what the JAM, Captain Fukai, and Yukikaze did seemed to defy common sense. Well, perhaps I understand his reaction, considering I also lost my composure when I saw the data, thought General Cooley. They’d brought back a great deal of data about the JAM, but put another way, it meant that the SAF just dramatically increased what they didn’t know about the enemy. Faced with the sheer volume of confusing data, she supposed it was only natural for her to temporarily lose her cool. She wasn’t a machine, after all.
God damn it, she thought as she replayed Captain Fukai’s conversation with the JAM over and over. Just what were the JAM?
Captain Fukai: Just what are you people? Living things? Beings that consist only of intelligence, will, and data? Do you have physical forms? If so, then where are they?
JAM: I cannot explain in a way that would be comprehensible in your terms. I am that I am.
She couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It hadn’t denied having a physical form. The voice calling itself the whole of the JAM was broadcast from the duplicate of the old Yukikaze, but it was hard to imagine that their true form had been riding within the plane itself. She wondered if the JAM’s intentional nonanswer had been a strategic ploy to avoid revealing their physical selves.
At the very least, it seemed that the JAM did possess the general concept of “I.” The JAM had the power to differentiate between itself and others. It seems obvious, but it’s likely a vital point, thought General Cooley. The question was, while the JAM could make the distinction, apparently humans could not. They were just going to have to deal with not knowing where the JAM existed, what a JAM was, and exactly what defined them.
The general recalled a conversation Captain Foss had had with Major Booker during the analysis. It had been recorded and already transcribed. General Cooley searched for the page it was on.
“The JAM didn’t respond when Captain Fukai asked where it was,” Captain Foss had said. “If we believe the rest of what it says, then we can conclude that the JAM have no concept of place or space, or if they do, that it’s outside the realm of human understanding. Considering that they’re beings capable of creating spaces like the Passageway and that so-called ‘mysterious battle zone,’ that seems likely.”
“The question Captain Fukai asked would be difficult for even the JAM to answer, Captain Foss,” Major Booker had replied. “He wasn’t simply asking what their location was. He was asking them where they really existed. For example, where are you, Edith?”
“Ah, you mean is the thing that’s called me my physical body? The consciousness inside my body? Do I have a soul and, if so, where does it go when I die? Yes, that is what he was asking, wasn’t it? A typical Captain Fukai move.”
“I think I would have asked the same thing if I’d been in that situation. And if you asked me that, I’d probably reply, ‘I’m right here.’ ” Booker said. “Simple, accurate, and doesn’t waste ten thousand words trying to elaborate on it. No matter what the meaning of the question might be, the normal answer to ‘Where are you?’ would be ‘I’m right here,’ wouldn’t it? But the JAM didn’t say that. They must have judged that the person they were speaking to wouldn’t have understood if they said, ‘I’m right here.’ ”
“You mean the only way the JAM could put it was ‘I am that I am’?”
“Yes, I think so. It’s not the same as them saying ‘I’m here.’ The JAM definitely exist, but they may not be able to decide if they exist nowhere or everywhere, and they didn’t have the words to explain it.”
“At the very least, that applied to the JAM Fukai communicatd with,” Foss said. “There was no physical entity there face to face with Captain Fukai or Yukikaze that they could understand. It was like it was talking to them on a telephone. But then you can’t say that the JAM have no physical form.”
“You once claimed to Captain Fukai that the JAM were imaginary. Can you still make that claim, Edith?”
“I only said that I couldn’t deny the possibility that they were.”
“I’m not trying to be sarcastic by asking you that. The JAM may be some sort of virtual species. That’s what we humans would have to call an entity we cannot actually perceive. We don’t really have a general concept to describe something that we absolutely cannot perceive. That’s why the JAM couldn’t answer. I’ll bet that if the JAM asked us where our true form is, they couldn’t directly perceive us with whatever senses they have, simply owing to the nature of their own existence. To the JAM, humans probably seem like virtual beings too.”
“When I said that they might be imaginary, all I meant was that they were an illusion that had been dreamed up by humans,” Foss said. “But that isn’t the JAM that’s shown up here. It’s definitely a being you could either believe in or not. Does that still make it a virtual being?”
“A being you could believe in or not may still be an illusion, Edith.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a philosophical question,” Major Booker said.
“I’m not sure I’m following you.”
“The philosophical question of what exactly is something that you can believe in or not. In short, what defines a being that absolutely exists and how do you integrate such a thing into yourself. Aside from Asian philosophies, the philosophies we’re familiar with have a long history of grappling with the question of whether or not beings can absolutely exist.”
“You mean the JAM really may not exist?”
“In one sense, that is possible. There are a number of ways that you can put it. There’s also the idea that the question of what is absolute existence is nothing but a play on words. Put another way, the ability for humans to think about such things and develop such questions makes the questions themselves meaningless. From there, a new way of thinking emerges.”
; “What sort of way?”
“That absolute existence, which is perhaps a god, or an agreement between subjective and objective perception—there are many ways to express it, anyway. The long and the short of it is that this way of thinking doesn’t affect how we exist. It’s a momentary thought—yes, truth is informed by human cognition, and anything beyond that is simply an individual question.”
“So, those who believe in them should believe and those who don’t shouldn’t, you mean?” Foss asked.
“Well, I suppose you could put it that way. But an ephemeral way of thinking could distort the perceptions of what’s right in front of you.”
“Of course it would. The JAM can’t simply be dealt with as a personal matter.”
“Which is why we’re here asking that question. I guess what I’m getting at is that we can’t avoid asking philosophical questions as we ask things like what is it that makes us so certain that the JAM exist? What are they? What is their true nature and what is the essence of it? If we accept the fact that their true nature is beyond human understanding, then all we’re doing is groping for a new general philosophical concept. The JAM have been working out what humans are from their end. I’m sure that what they think of us is entirely different from how we think of ourselves. But what we know for certain is that they’re searching for features common to all humans. That’s why they made contact with Captain Fukai.”
“Except that we don’t have time to be arguing philosophy here. There’s no way to answer philosophical questions, anyway,” Foss said.
“That isn’t true. Philosophy is the study of how to question the meaning of existence and how to live happily. Happiness varies according to the era and the individual, which is why there are no universal answers to philosophical questions. However, you can verify them for yourself. If your philosophy can let you accept death, you’ll know. And if philosophy is too grandiose a way of putting it, then call it your worldview. In order to counter the JAM, we need to change the worldview we’ve held till now. Captain Fukai has managed to do that; he’s said so repeatedly. As his doctor, you know that, Edith. And it was Yukikaze that changed his worldview, not the JAM.”
Good Luck, Yukikaze Page 41