So Easy a Monkey Could Do It
[ACT 1]
YUKARI FOLLOWED SATSUKI ASAHIKAWA down a nondescript corridor. Long hair spilled down her back, and she wore an ultrashort miniskirt and white lab coat with an unlikely pair of red high heels—a somewhat more provocative ensemble than your average physician might wear.
This so-called doctor had spent the last day examining Yukari from head to toe, using every implement imaginable to test the limits of Yukari’s body. Satsuki told her she wouldn’t be eligible for the job if she didn’t pass the tests, so Yukari endured in silence. Throughout the exam, Satsuki’s lips remained frozen in a ruby smile. When Yukari asked the results of a given test, she only scribbled notes on a clipboard and said, “Later.”
The last test ended at eight o’clock that night.
“Come with me,” Satsuki said.
Later was finally here.
Yukari and Satsuki stood inside Director Nasuda’s office. A large steel desk piled high with books and papers sat at the center of the room. Nasuda peered at them from behind the bulwark. “How’d it go?”
Satsuki gave a thumbs-up.
“Fit for duty then! Good.” Nasuda rose to his feet and walked over to Yukari. “Congratulations,” he said, clapping her on the shoulder and giving her a hearty shake. “I knew you had it in you!”
Yukari didn’t know what to say. She felt a knot growing in her stomach. The director seemed a little too enthusiastic over a part-time job.
“What a day,” he continued. “The world’s youngest astronaut is born!”
Yukari cocked her head. “Huh?”
Satsuki ignored her. “The perfect payload. High performance, compact, and lightweight.”
“All the best Japanese products are,” said Nasuda with a nod.
“Um…” Yukari chewed her lip. “Could you say that again?”
“The part about Japanese products?”
“Before that.”
“High performance, compact, and lightweight?”
“Before that.”
“World’s youngest astronaut?”
“That’s the one.” She swallowed. “You didn’t mean…me, did you?”
“Of course! Who else?”
Yukari’s jaw hit the floor. “I’m an astronaut?”
“The Solomon Space Association’s very own.”
Yukari frowned. “I thought all I had to do was sit in front of a machine pushing buttons and answering calls. You said even a monkey could do it.”
“They can. They have.” Director Nasuda spread his hands. “When you boil it down, what else does an astronaut do, really?”
Only the finest candidates were chosen to be astronauts—the best of the best, national heroes, the stuff of kids’ dreams. The recruiting process didn’t take place in a makeshift hotel room on the second floor of a Chinese restaurant. Or at least it wasn’t supposed to.
“The Americans, the Russians—they treat their astronauts like heroes, but don’t let that fool you. It’s all for show, a way to con taxpayers out of their hard-earned dollars,” Nasuda added reassuringly. “The computers fly the spacecraft. All the astronaut has to do is sit back and look out the window.”
“So why me?
Satsuki smiled. “You’re compact and lightweight.”
“Exactly. You see, a rocket is a lot like a pyramid. Every kilogram of astronaut we add at the top takes a whopping seventy kilograms to support at the base.” Nasuda gestured at Yukari. “At a mere thirty-seven kilograms, you’re not only light, you’re small— and that means we can get by with a smaller capsule too. Compared to Yasukawa, the sky’s the limit with you.”
“Yasukawa—he was an astronaut?”
“Was. The thought of losing a little weight scared him. He wanted out.”
“What’s so scary about going on a diet?”
“You know,” Nasuda dismissed her question with a wave. “But we have him to thank for finding you, the SSA’s newest—”
“Not so fast,” interrupted Yukari.
“Still on the fence? It’s perfectly safe, I assure you. Oh, the Americans have lost a shuttle or two, but what do you expect? They can’t even make a car that doesn’t break down.”
“So, this astronaut thing. Will it be over in a month?”
“I figure this first stint should take about half a year.”
“But school starts in September.”
“You can study here.”
“I don’t think that will show up on my transcript.”
“Hrm. We’ll just have to give your mother a call then.”
“First things first. If I agree to this, you’ll help me, right?”
“Help you what?”
“Find my dad!”
“Oh that. Of course. Not to worry. We’ll throw everything we’ve got at it.” Nasuda reached for the phone on his desk. “What’s your mother’s number?”
Director Nasuda dialed as Yukari rattled off the digits. The Solomon Islands were two hours ahead of Japan; her mother should just be getting home from work.
As the phone rang, the director put it on speaker.
“Hello,” Yukari’s mother answered.
“Hello, Ms. Morita? My name is Isao Nasuda. I’m the director of the Solomon Space Center.”
“The Solomon Space Center? I’m afraid I don’t—”
“You have a daughter by the name of Yukari?”
“That’s right.”
“Our mission here is to put a person into orbit, and as it happens, we’re looking for astronauts.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with us.”
“We had the good fortune of meeting your daughter. She’s perfect.”
“You want Yukari to become an astronaut?”
“We do. Of course she’d need to work here with us for the next six months or so. What do you say?”
“I’m not sure.”
“She’ll have room and board, naturally. And we’ll take care of all her visa paperwork.”
“Is Yukari there now?”
“She’s right in front of me.” The director gestured at the phone. “Go ahead, Yukari. The speaker will pick you up.”
“Um, hi, Mom.”
“An astronaut? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I think that’s worth postponing your search for your father, don’t you?”
“They said they’d help me look for Dad if I worked for them.”
“Even better.”
“You really think it’s a good idea?”
“Are you kidding? It’s not every day you get the chance to be an astronaut. There’s nothing a daughter of mine can’t do.”
Yukari sighed. That was her mom, all right. “But what about school? You know they won’t let us have part-time jobs.”
“We’ll pull you out for a semester. I’ll tell them you’re studying abroad.”
“So you’re totally okay with this?”
“You bet I am. I’m going to be the mother of an astronaut. I like the sound of that.”
“Uh, but, the thing of it is—”
“No changing your mind once you start. I won’t have any quitters living under my roof.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stick with it.”
“You sound a little sad. Don’t tell me you’re homesick already.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“I’ll come visit as soon as this project settles down, I promise.”
“You’re not listening to me!”
“Oh, sorry. Just do your best, all right? Say goodbye to the director for me.” The phone clicked.
There was a glint in Director Nasuda’s eye. “She has a way with words, your mother.”
“She’s half crazy if you ask me.”
“She knows you have the right stuff—why should she stand in your way? So, do we have a deal?”
“I guess.”
“Done! We’ll make the announcement to the team tomorrow. They’ll need to get working on a training schedule for you right away. Things are going to get busy.”
“You’ll let me know how the search is going?”
“The search?”
“For my dad!”
“Of course, of course. I’ll take care of everything.”
Yukari took the picture of her parents from her pocket. “His name is Hiroshi Morita. This was taken sixteen years ago—he’d be forty-seven now. He was a computer sales engineer.”
Director Nasuda glanced at the photo. “We’ll need to make copies for the search team. I’ll hang on to this.”
“Thank you.”
[ACT 2]
THE NEXT MORNING, Satsuki took Yukari to the Fuel Processing Center half a kilometer from the main base. She led her down a hall that smelled faintly of chemicals until they reached a door labeled DEPARTMENT OF MACROMOLECULAR RESEARCH.
Yukari stared in disbelief as Satsuki pointed out the department head, a disheveled woman in a white lab coat and worn tennis shoes with thick glasses that nearly covered her face. She was walking right toward them.
The woman stopped a mere thirty centimeters from Yukari— no doubt the ideal focal length for the glasses. She scanned Yukari, leaning from left to right, trying to find the best angle from which to make whatever observations she was making.
Yukari leaned toward Satsuki. “What’s she doing?” she whispered.
“This,” said Satsuki, “is Motoko Mihara, head of our chemistry department.”
“Take off your clothes.” Motoko’s voice was coarse and deep.
“Again?” Yukari had been ordered to disrobe half a dozen times the day before. The thought of another day spent slipping in and out of clothes set her teeth on edge. She stared Motoko down as best she could.
Satsuki was all smiles. “Submitting to this sort of examination is part of your job, Yukari.”
With a resigned sigh, Yukari got undressed. Again.
“Bend over,” ordered Motoko.
Yukari bent over. Without warning, Motoko grabbed her abdomen.
“Hey!”
“Very good. Nice and tight. We shouldn’t have any trouble making it.” There was genuine delight in her voice.
“I stand behind my product,” said Satsuki.
“Trouble making what?”
“Your space suit.”
“Space suit? I thought this place was for making rocket fuel.”
“Among other things.” Satsuki waved an arm around the room. “We can produce almost any chemical you can imagine here. Motoko is a bona fide genius.”
“What’s that got to do with—Aieee!” Yukari felt something cold and slick on her back.
“Vaseline,” said Motoko.
“That would be good to know before you start.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“And why are you rubbing Vaseline on my back?”
“We need a mold to cast your suit.”
“What for?”
“It has to be skintight.”
Genius or not, Motoko’s bedside manner needed work.
Satsuki bent down so she was eye to eye with Yukari. “Those NASA astronauts look like someone in a Godzilla costume. Their suits are baggy, loose—you won’t be tying shoelaces in one of those, and you can forget about scratching any itches. What’s the point of being out in space if you can barely move? Which is why Motoko developed the skinsuit.”
“Skinsuit?”
“Think of it as a second skin. They show up in anime all the time.”
“My anime expertise is a little rusty.”
“Normally you have to pressurize a space suit with air. It puffs up like a balloon, and even the joints end up stiff.”
“Uh-huh.”
“With a suit that’s skintight, we only need air in the helmet— after all, your skin doesn’t have to breathe. So long as the suit can vent sweat and excess heat into space, you’re golden. The key is having the right material. Something water permeable, airtight, heat resistant, and flexible while maintaining its shape.”
Yukari sighed. “The only part I understood was ‘skintight.’ Sounds like a pervert’s dream.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have your share of admirers. But don’t worry, we’ll save the press kit till just before the launch so you’re not distracted.”
“Maybe some weirdo with a fetish will pay good money for the suit once this is all over.”
“I sure hope so—they cost eight million yen each.”
Motoko finished covering Yukari in petroleum jelly from the neck down, and with Satsuki’s help, they immersed her in fresh plaster, using spatulas to position her so only the back half of her body was submerged.
Motoko leaned over Satsuki. “It takes about thirty minutes to dry. Try not to move.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
At first the plaster was ice-cold, but after only a few minutes it had become uncomfortably warm.
“Motoko? Is the plaster supposed to get hot?”
“It’s a side effect of the congealing process.”
“But it keeps getting hotter. You’re sure this is normal?”
Motoko watched as sweat beaded on Yukari’s forehead. She laughed. “I need you to do something for me, Yukari.”
“What’s that?”
“Trust me.”
[ACT 3]
THAT AFTERNOON, AS Yukari recuperated in the barracks, Director Nasuda was addressing an assembly of the department heads.
“Good news from the Department of Economic Planning. They’ve agreed to delay cutting the program if we can get a person into space by year-end—and not one day later.”
The members of the team glanced nervously at one another. That only gave them four months—extremely tight.
“Now, as for Yukari’s training. This isn’t Yasukawa we’re dealing with—she’s never even flown a plane, much less a spacecraft. We’ve got an uphill battle ahead of us. What are our priorities?”
The flight director, Kinoshita, raised his hand. “Courage, knowledge, familiarity. If she panics during the mission, we’ve got a problem. She’s going to be locked in a cramped capsule, alone, with a hundred tons of explosives under her feet propelling her into space at eight kilometers per second under 8 G of force.”
“Put that way, it’s enough to scare me.”
“We could simply…not mention the risks.”
Director Nasuda shook his head. “Out of the question. If all we wanted was a witless stowaway, we might as well launch a monkey. The whole point of a manned program is to send up someone who knows the risks and is willing to face them. Even if that person is a teenage girl.”
The room fell silent.
Satsuki cut through it like a knife. “We should start with solo survival training.”
“A parachute drop into the jungle?”
“Exactly.”
“Some of the tribes on this island aren’t exactly friendly. All well and good if she runs into the Taliho, but what about the rest?”
“So we send her in packing heat.” Kurosu patted the sidearm at his hip. “If she can get off a warning shot, they’ll scatter like roaches.”
“You want to ask a teenage girl to jump into a jungle crawling with potentially hostile natives? She’ll be on the first plane back to Japan.”
“Leave that to me,” said Satsuki. “Give me one week. I’ll run her through the centrifuge and multi-axis trainer until she doesn’t know which way is up.”
“And that will work?”
“Absolutely. I’ll push her right to the edge. By the time we put her on the helicopter, she’ll be so exhausted she won’t fear anything, even death. She’ll do whatever we tell her to.”
Kinoshita nodded slowly. “We’re going to induce post-traumatic shock.”
“Bingo!” Satsuki grinned. “I’m starting to like her. She’s healthy, takes orders—she’s even cute. I’m curious to see what can be done with her.”
“I’ll try to have her suit ready by then,” said Motoko. “I want to get data on its performance in a tropical environment.”
Kinoshita rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you two scare me.”
“Then it’s settled,” declared Nasuda. “Satsuki will begin endurance training. Kinoshita will handle her studies. Swamp her with homework.”
Director Nasuda turned to Kurosu. “You’re going to teach her how to handle firearms. That should tickle your drill-sergeant bone.”
“She’ll be a Green Beret by the time I’m through with her.”
“You have your assignments. Get to work!”
[ACT 4]
THREE DAYS LATER, it was time to begin. Satsuki brought Yukari to the astronaut training facility, a large building next to the command center.
“This,” said Satsuki, “is your desk. Not that you’ll be seeing much of it.”
Yukari’s desk was conveniently located in the office of Chief Medical Officer Satsuki Asahikawa.
Satsuki pointed at stacks of neatly folded clothing on the desk. “These are your training clothes. Shorts, T-shirts, jumpsuits, swimwear—the same things we’ve been using in your tests. You’ll also find towels, caps, shoes, tampons, maxis. There’s a locker in the dressing room—you can keep all this there. If you run low on anything, put in a requisition with the supply department.”
“Okay.”
“The rest is your textbooks, notebooks, calculator, and so forth.”
“Got it.”
“Well, let’s get started, shall we? Beginning tomorrow you’ll spend time in the pool and gym before breakfast. Part of your endurance training. Today you get to skip that. Let’s put you in the centrifuge to work on your G tolerance.”
Satsuki escorted Yukari to a circular room in the basement of the training facility. In the middle of the room was an odd-looking piece of machinery with two arms—one short, one long. At the end of the long arm was a cage big enough to hold one person. The other arm ended in a large counterweight to ensure the entire device remained level while spinning.
“This is the centrifuge. You might have seen something like it at an amusement park.”
“I rode one at Toshimaen once.”
“This is just an industrial version of the same thing. I’ll give you instructions over the intercom. Just do what I tell you and you’ll be fine.”
“All right.”
“Go on, hop in the cage. I believe the best way to learn is by doing. Don’t worry, I won’t push you too hard.”
The cage loosely resembled the control room of a construction crane. Yukari opened the door and wriggled in. It was a tight fit. She sat facing the middle of the room, toward the centrifuge’s central axis. There was a small window directly in front of her and beneath it a panel with a row of switches. Cables snaked all around her.
Satsuki reached in through the door and fastened Yukari into a sturdy four-point harness. She placed a headset on Yukari’s head and attached a series of sensor wires.
“All set. Just sit tight.” Satsuki closed the door and walked out of the room.
Light shone through the glass separating the control room. Satsuki appeared behind the glass. “Can you hear me?” Her voice crackled through the headphones.
“Yeah.”
“Straighten your back and place your arms on the armrests.”
“Okay.”
“Here we go. You’ll be at 2 G in three seconds.”
Brrrrrm.
Yukari felt a dull thud, and then the centrifuge began to move.
“Whoa.”
Every vehicle Yukari had ever ridden in had started slow and built up speed. This was different. The acceleration was instantaneous, like pushing a toy car across the room. It didn’t follow a curve, it was a straight line—and it was just getting warmed up.
The spinning grew faster. Everything outside the window was a blur. The centrifuge began to creak, and her body sank deep into the seat.
“Okay, 3 G…4 G…” Satsuki’s voice was mechanical.
Yukari felt her stomach contorting. And not just her stomach. Her lungs, her intestines, her brain—it felt as though someone had put them in a vise.
“Now 5 G…Any changes on the panel?”
“Th-the second light from the right came on.”
“Those are illuminated switches. I want you to push any of them that light up.”
“Okay—huh?” She tried to lift her arm, but it remained glued to the armrest. It felt as though it were made of lead.
At 5 G, Yukari’s body would weigh five times as much as normal. So if her arm weighed two kilograms, it felt like ten.
“I can’t lift my arm.”
“This is only 5 G. Just pretend you’re trying to lift a bucket of water.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Her hand trembled as she peeled it off the armrest, but she managed to press the button. The light went off.
As it did, another went on.
“Turn the lights off as quickly as you can.”
“Ugh.”
Straining under the effort, Yukari used both arms to press the button.
“Good. Let’s see how you handle six.”
The centrifuge whined.
“Hey!”
“You’re on a course to crash. If you don’t turn off all the lights within thirty seconds, the centrifuge will automatically accelerate by 1 G.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?!”
“Afraid not.”
Three lights blinked on. It took all of Yukari’s strength to reach the first button. As she did, her arm shook as though it were cramping, and she pressed the adjacent button by mistake. It lit up.
Brrrrrm.
She barely managed to turn off a single light within the time limit. The centrifuge accelerated without mercy.
Yukari’s bones ground against each other. She grimaced in pain.
“Now 7 G.” Satsuki chuckled.
Yukari’s face stretched. She sat powerless as the next thirty seconds expired.
“Now 8 G.”
Yukari was overcome by a terrible headache. Her vision began to dim, her heart raced, and her breath grew shallow.
“Breathe with your stomach or you’ll suffocate.”
She wanted to ask how, but the words wouldn’t come. Her ribs pressed against her back, crushing her lungs. She couldn’t even force air down her throat.
Another thirty seconds passed.
“And 9 G.” Satsuki giggled.
A tunnel closed in around her vision. Her breathing was labored. Her heart was beating two hundred times per minute. A haze clouded her thoughts.
The world went black.
[ACT 5]
YUKARI WOKE UP in her bed. Satsuki was with her, the woman’s back facing the bed. The last moments before Yukari had passed out came back to her.
“You…”
“You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“You tried to kill me.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Satsuki’s face was expressionless.
“You enjoyed that.”
“You kept a cool head.” Satsuki wrote something on her clipboard.
“Don’t try to change the subject. I heard you laughing.”
“You were doing so well. The machine kept accelerating, but you didn’t pass out. I was happy for you.”
“That’s not what it sounded like from where I was sitting.”
“You must’ve misunderstood, that’s all.” Satsuki glanced at her watch. “Oh, look at that. It’s time for class. Don’t want to be late on your first day.”
“Just let me rest a little first.”
“No time.”
Satsuki dragged her out of bed.
When she reached the classroom, Kazuya Kinoshita was waiting for her. His silver-rimmed glasses sparkled.
“You’re late,” he barked.
“I blacked out.”
“I don’t want excuses. An astronaut has to be able to manage her schedule. Next time you’re late, I’ll keep you for an extra three hours.”
Yukari wondered where they found these people. How did someone so young—Kinoshita couldn’t have been much past forty—get to be such a hard-ass?
“Now let’s try to make an astronaut out of you. Turn to page ninety-two in The Feynman Lectures on Physics, Volume I.”
Yukari flipped to the page he’d asked her to. It was a monster of a book.
“Orbital mechanics are governed by Kepler’s laws. Read them out loud.”
“Let’s see…Kepler’s first law: The orbit of every planet is an ellipse with the sun at one focus.”
“Keep going.”
“Kepler’s second law: A line drawn between the sun and a planet will sweep out equal areas in equal periods of time. Kepler’s third law: The squares of the orbital periods of any two planets are proportional to the cubes of the semimajor axes of their orbits.”
As she read, Kinoshita had written an equation and several numbers on the board.
“This is the equation for a planet’s orbit. Use these initial values and the gravitational constant to integrate the equation.”
“Integrate?”
“You don’t know integral calculus?” His voice had jumped an octave.
“I don’t think we ever learned that.”
“Let’s try this then.” Kinoshita wrote another equation on the board. “You must be able to calculate a binomial expansion.”
This new formula looked more familiar. She just needed to plug in the values for the variables.
“So, what’s the vector after one second?”
“But those are eight-digit numbers.”
“Use your calculator.”
“Oh, right.” Yukari took out the calculator she’d been given that morning. She flipped on the switch, and froze. “Huh?”
“What’s wrong?”
“It doesn’t have an equals button.”
“Of course it doesn’t!” He looked like he might burst a vein. “Haven’t you heard of reverse Polish notation?”
Yukari brought her hand down on her desk with a bang. “Obviously not!”
“Then I’m going to spend the next five minutes drilling it into your head. When I’m finished, you’ll never want to touch a normal calculator again.”
“Tyrant!”
“What did you call me?”
The next two hours were a nightmare. Dejected and with a mountain of homework in her hands, Yukari walked out of the classroom.
[ACT 6]
THAT AFTERNOON YUKARI started survival training with Toshiyuki Kurosu, the chief of security. Kurosu took one look at her in T-shirt and shorts and thrust a pair of fatigues at her.
“Change into this.”
A short ride in a Humvee brought them to a firing range at the foot of the Shiriba Mountains. Dense tropical jungle surrounded them on all sides. There were sandbags everywhere, and the ground was crisscrossed with trenches just wide enough for one person. The entire range was fenced with barbed wire.
Kurosu spoke to Yukari across the hood of the Humvee. “This is the SSC firing range. I intend to spend the next week teaching you how to survive in any environment the tropics can throw at you.” Kurosu squinted at her. “Tell me. What’s the key to survival?”
“Hmm…”
“Shoot before you are shot!” Kurosu shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Wha—?”
“That is the only way you will survive! The enemy is everywhere. You must kill the enemy without hesitation. If you do not kill the enemy without hesitation, the enemy will kill you!”
Yukari stared blankly at Kurosu. Another freak.
He took a large pistol out of a duffel bag. “Forty-five caliber, Colt Government M1911A1. Your new best friend.” He held the gun out to Yukari. “Take it.”
It felt heavy in her hands, a lifeless mass of metal.
His hand reached into the duffel bag for more loot. “This is your gun belt. Wrap it around your waist. This is a magazine—seven rounds each. Always remember how many rounds you have left. Cleaning kit and tools—you gotta be able to strip and clean your weapon with your eyes closed in the middle of a firefight.”
“Question.”
“Proceed.”
“I thought survival training would be more about pitching tents and scavenging for food.”
“Can you kill the enemy with a tent?” Kurosu bellowed. “First order of business is survival. If you can kill a man, you can hunt an animal. Then we’ll worry about tents.”
“I don’t believe this.”
“Hmph. If your brain won’t get it, your body will. Follow me.” Kurosu led Yukari to a corner of the range and showed her how to handle the gun he’d given her. Slap a fresh magazine in the bottom, pull back the slide, release the safety.
“Squeeze the trigger, kill the enemy. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Show me.”
Kurosu pressed a button on a nearby control panel, and a man-shaped target popped up in front of them.
“Aim for the heart. Keep your feet apart, bend your back. Hold the grip with both hands.”
Yukari followed each instruction precisely.
“Fire!”
Bang!
A massive jolt ran through Yukari’s arms and into her shoulders, shaking her from head to toe. She staggered backward.
“Wrong! Do not close your eyes when discharging your weapon!”
“Do you have anything…smaller?”
“Your weapon must strike fear in the heart of the enemy. One more time. Like you mean it.”
Bang!
The recoil knocked her back again. The bullet hadn’t even grazed the target.
“Hold the grip good and tight. Squeeze the trigger, real light. Now fire.”
Bang!
A hole appeared in the target’s stomach.
“I hit it!”
“Empty these.” Kurosu set six more magazines on the table. She fired all forty-nine rounds. When she finished, she couldn’t feel anything below her shoulder. But Kurosu was just getting started. He made her change her stance and fire off another forty-two before taking her to an obstacle course covered with track-and-field equipment.
“You will scale that wall, crawl under that barbed wire, and dive into that trench.”
Yukari sighed. It sounded like the first level of a video game.
“You will also crouch the entire time because I will be standing here firing at you with a machine gun.” Kuroso hefted an M-60. “I will be firing live rounds. If you stand higher than you should, you will be in a world of hurt.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Scared? You should be. It costs a lot of money to train an astronaut,” he said. “I’m here to weed out the undesirables. Now suck it up and move!”
“But that’s not fair.”
“Not fair?”
“You’ve got a machine gun, and all I have is this pistol. I won’t stand a chance.”
“Well, well, well.” His face split into a grin. “You want to shoot back? Keep me honest?”
“You said shoot or be shot. I want a machine gun too. Something small and light I can run with. One that shoots lots of bullets.”
“Aren’t you full of surprises. I’ve got just the thing.” Kurosu reached back into his duffel bag and produced a small, angular machine gun. “This is an Ingram MAC-11. She’s compact and lightweight, but she still packs a punch.”
“Perfect.”
“She’ll dance when you fire her, so hold on good and tight to the silencer with your left hand.”
“No problem. Now all I need are some bullets.”
“Help yourself.”
Their war games lasted the rest of the day. With bullets whizzing by overhead, Yukari realized it was a lot harder to be an astronaut than she had imagined. But she wasn’t going to give up yet.