IV Combat Awareness

IV

COMBAT AWARENESS

YUKIKAZE’S CENTRAL COMPUTER never slept, even when she was resting her wings in the hangar bay. Cables running from the floor provided her with electrical power as she waited on standby. The cables attached to her underside also contained circuits that linked Yukikaze to the SAF’s tactical computer, allowing her to read all of the data available to it.

She could even access the missions and operational actions of SAF fighters currently in flight, although she couldn’t receive the intelligence they were gathering in real time. Fighters on sortie generally wouldn’t access headquarters except in cases of emergency. The information they gathered would be downloaded to the tactical computer in headquarters once they’d returned to base and been linked up to the cables in the hangar.

The data would then be analyzed by the SAF in order to develop new strategies, and the raw, unfiltered data would be stored as well, accessible at any time. Flight crews back from their missions would use it to write up their sortie reports. They’d check it over, both to see if there were differences between their own memories and the data their planes had recorded, as well as to check if the decisions they’d made in flight were the right ones. This was done especially in cases where the JAM had attacked them unexpectedly, so as to determine from where the JAM had appeared and if it would have been possible to detect them sooner. It was useful after missions for the pilots to replay the past mission via onboard simulation in order to create more efficient hazard avoidance maneuvers. Since every sortie was a matter of life and death, pilots needed to draw on the knowledge gained from past experiences to help them survive. Many flight crews could be found in planes’ cockpits even when they weren’t writing their sortie reports.

Rei, naturally, was no exception. He’d always spent more time in his cockpit than the other pilots, but lately he could be found in Yukikaze’s cockpit more frequently than ever. Since she’d shed her old body in favor of this new one, he’d grown eager to learn more about her. He sensed that the changes in her went beyond surface appearance. Wanting to know exactly what these changes were, he used any free time he could find during his rehabilitation to see Yukikaze directly.

What does she think about when she is on standby? he wondered. What kind of conversations did she have with the tactical computer in HQ? He’d always wondered about that, and he’d spent a lot of time on board Yukikaze in the hangar trying to work that out.

That was when Rei had a thought.

Just how exactly did Yukikaze, the SAF’s computers, and the combat intelligence they contained feel about the JAM?

To him, in the old days, Yukikaze was simply the plane he flew, but now he didn’t feel that way. Her central computer was now a discrete combat consciousness independent of him. It might not have been a consciousness identical to that of a human, but Yukikaze must have had some cognizance of the world she occupied. He wanted to know what that was. It was possible that the JAM understood Yukikaze and Earth’s machine intelligences better than he did. He knew for certain that the JAM considered machine intelligence to be real, while the state of humans was more ambiguous. If he could understand how Yukikaze and the computers she was connected to saw the JAM, then maybe he could get a clue as to exactly what this enemy humans called the JAM really were. This sort of work was better done on standby than while on a sortie. This was another battlefield, one where Yukikaze’s central computer could talk to the SAF combat intelligences. Rei felt ready to get back in the fight. There was no need for any more rehabilitation.

Rei hadn’t been told by Major Booker that he was cleared for combat after his mission. He’d simply said that the merit of his sortie would be evaluated, and Booker ordered Rei to remain on standby until the evaluation was complete. Essentially, the major had told him to take it easy. The evaluation would take two days at most. Of course, he needed to file a sortie report as well, so he couldn’t just spend those two days sleeping.

What the hell could they be taking two days to figure out? Rei asked himself. His physical strength wasn’t in question now. Even if he didn’t stick with the rehab schedule they’d set up for him, he’d be fine training on his own. He’d flown a combat sortie for the first time in a while and had passed with flying colors. The fact that Rei had returned to base still in one piece was proof of that. Or had he done something wrong? Was Major Booker telling him that he should take some time and take a hard look at the actions he’d taken in his first combat flight in a long time? That had to be it. Otherwise, “Remain on standby” was just his way of saying, “I’m giving you two days off.”

And so Rei passed the days in Yukikaze’s cockpit. After looking back over his actions on his mission with Yukikaze’s central computer, with it agreeing that he’d done nothing wrong, he now turned to monitoring the link between Yukikaze and the SAF’s computers. He took his time doing so.

By switching on the main display in her cockpit and watching the feed, he could see each occasion when Yukikaze would access the SAF’s tactical computer. Code numbers would suddenly scroll across the screen. He couldn’t tell the exact specifics of the data, but his eyes could follow and grasp the general type of data she was requesting and the arrangement of the data sent in reply.

Yukikaze was gathering past data from the other planes through the data link circuit. That much he knew, but what was Yukikaze thinking and what was she discussing with the tactical computer? That, he could only imagine. The display didn’t show the data exchange at that level, since Yukikaze wasn’t equipped with that sort of interface. Of course, if he used a tactical computer terminal in headquarters, it would have been able to display the exchange in a human-readable form.

Rei had already gone there to check it out.

The tactical computer in SAF HQ told him by voice that Yukikaze was requesting records of the actions and gathered information of Unit 13, the Rafe. But in answer to why she was requesting the data, the computer could only guess that she was possibly running a combat simulation on her own.

As far as what Yukikaze’s central computer was thinking and what judgments it was making, the tactical computer in the SAF headquarters was as much in the dark as he.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. The instinct to defeat the JAM was built in at the time of Yukikaze’s manufacture. The existence of that impulse meant that there was nothing at all strange about her researching tactics and strategies to use against the JAM while she was on standby. If one wanted to know what she’d learned, all they’d have to do is see how she reacted the next time she was in battle. Words weren’t necessary. Not in combat. There was no time then to ask what she was up to and then wait for an answer. That was the reason she wasn’t equipped with a system through which to communicate verbally with humans, and Rei hadn’t felt the need for one. At any rate, getting back to base in one piece was the important point. An analysis of what exactly the JAM were could be left for headquarters to worry about.

So, Yukikaze had taken it upon herself to work on this question while she was on standby. That makes her a better pilot than I am, Rei thought. Still, he had to make sure that she hadn’t gone insane. So long as he didn’t know how she thought, he feared that she might once again cast him out of her.

Yukikaze probably understood the JAM a lot better than any human could. There was no doubt about that, considering no person could match her ability to gather and process data. Yukikaze needed no sleep and would continue with her task as long as her power supplies lasted. But even if she worked round the clock researching strategies and tactics to beat the JAM, that didn’t necessarily mean that she grasped their true nature. He didn’t know if Yukikaze’s conjecture took into account the possibility that the JAM couldn’t perceive human beings. The SAF’s combat intelligences hold that viewpoint, so it’s possible Yukikaze adopted it as well when she consulted them, but perhaps she just doesn’t care? Still, Rei thought, as long as humans continue to fly in her, she has to know that she can’t just ignore us. That he wanted her not to ignore the humans who would ride in her. That they were to fight together, as partners.

Rei continued monitoring the operation of Yukikaze’s central computer in the cockpit as she waited on standby. That would be the only way he’d ever find out what she was thinking about and what her thought processes were like. It was just like when he was in combat, trying to sense how she’d react.

Even had Yukikaze been equipped for human communication, Rei guessed that there’d be no way for her to express her conscious thoughts in words. The reason for this was simple—human language had developed to suit human modes of existence. Growing out of a completely different architecture, while she might be able to mimic human expression, there’d most likely be parts that would be untranslatable. For example, Yukikaze’s consciousness would never be able to really use any words that dealt with human emotions. If he were to ask her, “Do you like me?” she’d have no understanding of what the words meant.

Still, she was able to recognize that her partner, a man named Captain Fukai, was aboard her now. And that if he operated her in a certain way, Rei would find the answer to what he sought. It was an unspoken communication between them.

Yukikaze was aware that Rei was on board because all current planes in the SAF had the ability to tell when their masters were in their cockpits. Both the instrument panel and the helmet Rei currently wasn’t wearing were equipped with small lenses. By capturing an image of his face, Yukikaze could know that it was Rei who was sitting in her cockpit. The system wasn’t in place simply to recognize who was piloting the plane, but also to constantly monitor the direction and orientation of the pilot’s gaze.

Yukikaze wasn’t equipped to receive input by glance. She didn’t have an active command input function and there was no way to tell precisely what a pilot was looking at. All the system did was measure the contrast between the iris and the sclera of the eye to tell in which direction the pilot was looking. So, it didn’t allow the pilot to directly input commands by glance alone, but an even more advanced user interface had been created based on the information gathered by the gaze-monitoring system.

This equipment was still experimental and only installed on the SAF’s planes, but Major Booker didn’t think of the system as experimental when he decided to order the installation. It was a system ready for practical use. The other planes, which had advanced central computers similar to Yukikaze’s, would use the information to anticipate what their pilots were planning and then act on it, Major Booker had thought. He’d had the Systems Corps develop software that would allow machine intelligences to make predictions based on eye-glance input. After a certain period of learning, the plane’s central computer would learn to process the data and use it to decide, Since the pilot is looking at an enemy plane with his naked eye, I should guide the plane in that direction, or Since the pilot has his eyes on the head-up display, I’ll leave the guidance to him and give all my attention to an omnidirectional search for the enemy, or The pilot’s eyes have been closed so long he must have lost consciousness. I will assume full control. That was what it had been developed for.

Pilot and plane wouldn’t need words to cooperate in combat. The ideal would be for the plane to know what its pilot wanted with just a glance. All that was needed was for the system to perceive clearly what its pilot was looking at in a particular moment. Or at least, that was Major Booker’s theory. They’d only installed the system into her recently, but Rei was sure that Yukikaze had already mastered it. He knew that without needing to ask.

Yukikaze’s consciousness existed on a completely different level from human consciousness. Nobody could say that she didn’t have it from the start. Humans couldn’t even be sure of how awareness existed in other humans, or how members of their own species conceived of the world. When we examine another person’s behaviors and attitudes, the idea that they see the world as we do is merely a supposition humans are predisposed to make because we all develop from a similar architecture. But it was difficult to make that sort of supposition about Yukikaze because she wasn’t human. Even so, Rei hoped that he’d flown together with her long enough that he’d be able to understand her. Or, at the very least, to know if it would be worth trying to understand her.

Perhaps Yukikaze had already done it on her end. It was clear that she still valued this human named Rei Fukai in her war with the JAM. Even now, she was analyzing their past battles. She wouldn’t be doing that while ignoring his value as a pilot. Well, if she felt that way about him, then he’d return the favor.

Yukikaze hadn’t changed. Yukikaze had always been Yukikaze. And in realizing that, in realizing that it was he that had changed, Rei had a sudden flash of insight. That he had never really known Yukikaze at all.

2

THE ALARM BEEPING on his wristwatch reminded Rei that he had a short lunch meeting scheduled with Major Booker that afternoon.

Three days had passed since he’d been ordered onto standby. The major had told him about the meeting the previous afternoon but had remained tight-lipped about the agenda or with whom Rei would be meeting. Rei hadn’t pushed the subject. The major’s attitude told him that nothing more would be revealed before the meeting. Not that it really mattered.

Rei wanted to know what it was that Yukikaze was doing in the background as they waited, but his enthusiasm for the project hadn’t yielded proportionate results.

Yukikaze’s central computer seemed to be constantly tracking the mission status of all the SAF’s planes, demanding the data on them from the computers in headquarters as it came in. For that reason, Rei could see where all the other planes were and follow what they were doing on Yukikaze’s main display.

But what was it all for? Rei asked himself. Perhaps this was just one of the functions that had been programmed into her. To put it simply, maybe this was a purely mechanical reaction, she had no consciousness at all, and he was just overestimating his beloved plane to the point of full-scale delusion.

Well, it’s too soon to reach any conclusions, thought Rei as he pushed the headset he was wearing down onto his neck and, after yanking the plug from the comm systems, climbed down from Yukikaze’s cockpit. The major had been very specific about him showing up on time. He wouldn’t know where the lunch meeting would take place unless he came to the office. The details of the meeting would be given there.

Neither the SAF nor the FAF in general had anything like a fancy restaurant on base—at best, this meeting would have to be taking place in a field officer’s private dining room. Even so, it’s so human of Major Booker to adopt such an air of importance about this, thought Rei. He didn’t attach any distaste to the notion. He’d known the major long enough to realize that he wouldn’t be making such a big deal about this unless there was good reason to. If anybody else had copped an attitude like Booker’s Rei would have chalked it up to simple vanity. In the end, similar human attitudes would inspire entirely different emotional responses from Rei, depending on how well he knew the person. It must have been the same regarding Yukikaze. He still didn’t know her at all.

Other SAF planes were lined up in the hangar bay. Like Yukikaze, they had cables like umbilical cords dangling from their undersides. The cables supplied them with power and connected them to the SAF’s vast data network. They were like fetuses. No, that’s not right, Rei thought. They were more like cattle grazing in a field. Having wriggled out of danger once again and sharing the information they’d gathered, they were now back here, calmly ruminating. Only the cud they chewed was data, not grass.

He admired the planes all lined up in their rows as he walked by. They’re like living things, Rei thought. Living, growing creatures who absorbed information and then changed as they made it a part of themselves. And what would they grow into? That, no man could say. The fighters’ computers, sitting side by side, probably didn’t know either. Even as they stood next to each other, Rei didn’t sense that they perceived themselves as a group.

Along the way, he noticed the flight crew of Unit 3 at work aboard their plane. Their attitude told him that they were preparing for a single-fighter mission.

Rei didn’t call out to them. Shouting hello when he had no reason to would just make him a bother. It wasn’t like the members of his squadron didn’t share information with each other, but while they were well attuned to gathering data they tended to be indifferent to the very existence of other people. The members of the SAF might have been a unit, but they weren’t an actual group. The SAF didn’t function as one. They were founded on the idea of flying missions independently, without any expectation of backup from headquarters, even in combat. In a fight, all they had to depend on was their own skill, and so there were no “leaders” or “subordinates” here. The only people they trusted were themselves, and putting yourself first was a trait to be admired. Those were the sort of people who comprised the Special Air Force.

And, like the humans who operated them and whose actions they continually learned from, so too behaved the central computers of their fighter planes. It was possible, Rei thought, that the computers work together with the humans at a level we can’t comprehend to form a sort of synthetic machine intelligence. But if you accepted that premise, you could argue further that they and the human members of the squadron also formed a group consciousness that comprised the SAF, which was why the fighter planes’ computers couldn’t be said to operate in a group. Each SAF computer operated individually, with none assuming a leadership position. They wouldn’t interfere with one another’s work, similar to the machine intelligence in the tactical computer at SAF headquarters. Rei had made sure that the other fighter intelligences wouldn’t interfere with Yukikaze, but they couldn’t interfere even if they wanted to. The system had been constructed to prevent it.

The SAF’s computers had been given the strongest level of self-preservation functionality in order to prevent outside interference by the JAM. Even if something considered an ally tried to forcibly move against an SAF computer, it would select a method to counter the attack. If its autonomy could not be maintained, it would self-destruct. In short, the computers of the SAF, like its human personnel, did not operate as a group. Noninterference meant not expecting any backup from anywhere else. Within the FAF, these machine intelligences formed a unit that was truly “special.”

As Rei drew near the hangar bay exit, now musing that the planes had the appearance of giant cats, listening to each other in a silent assembly, a warning siren sounded inside. The same sort of siren that warned when a plane was about to leave.

Unit 7, having taxied to the central area of the bay, was being towed by an unmanned spotting dolly over to the three-sided central elevator. The plane was a Super Sylph. Aboard her was a pilot and his flight officer.

“Hey, Captain Fukai.” The pilot aboard the plane leaned forward as he called out to Rei. This was extremely unusual. The pilot’s name was Vincent Bruys, and he held the rank of first lieutenant.

“What’s up, Lieutenant,” Rei called back. “Am I in your way?”

“Just wanted to warn you to be careful not to get shot by Llanfabon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Llanfabon was the name of Lieutenant Bruys’s fighter, Unit 7.

“This lunch meeting you’ve been invited to,” replied Lieutenant Bruys. “I’ve been assigned escort and surveillance duty for it.”

“The meeting’s going to be in-flight, you mean?”

“The details are being kept top secret. They’re not even entered into the computers in HQ. Looks like it’s a special mission. You’ll find out what it is when you go. Major Booker must be afraid that the JAM might slip into the meeting. If you turn out to be a JAM, I’m shooting you down. That’s all there is to it.”

“Do you want to shoot me? Then what are you doing talking to me? If the mission’s top secret, then shut up about it.”

“While I was checking out Llanfabon before, I saw Yukikaze making repeated requests for direct access. You must have known that Llanfabon is on this special mission. It’s supposed to be a secret, so I was wondering how you found out.”

“I didn’t know about it,” Rei replied. “You’re saying Yukikaze was trying to access Llanfabon?”

“Are you saying you weren’t having her do it, Captain Fukai?”

“Nope, wasn’t me.”

“If I were to believe you, that would mean that Yukikaze herself wanted to know about the details of this mission. A special mission whose details weren’t even entered into the tactical computer at headquarters. If Yukikaze wanted to know the details of Llanfabon’s mission, she’d have to ask me directly. That’s real interesting behavior on her part. After this mission’s done, I’ll be reporting it to Major Booker. This mission’s already begun. If you are a JAM, then I hope you either get killed by Yukikaze or that this lunch today will be your last. See you.”

Rei checked his watch; a little over three minutes had passed since the alarm had sounded. He quickly returned to Yukikaze’s cockpit and flipped the main switch on for the display cluster. As he had before, he set the main display to monitor mode to show the operation of the plane’s central computer, selected DISPLAY EXTERNAL COMMUNICATIONS from the menu, then hit the execute button. The response came quickly:

Watch on B-7/mission unknown/request contents… STC.

So Yukikaze had been interested in this secret lunch meeting.

Apparently, Major Booker hadn’t entered details of the meeting into any of the SAF’s computers, which explained why even Yukikaze hadn’t known it was happening. However, she’d noticed that Llanfabon had been assigned the sortie code number B-7 in regards to its operational actions and had cross-referenced that with the flight schedule. That was when she’d probably noticed that there were no details pertaining to the mission anywhere and had begun to doggedly search for them.

Until Lieutenant Bruys had called him out about it, Rei had no idea she was doing it. A little earlier, all Yukikaze had done was display the readout B-7 mission unknown on the monitor. However, now that Llanfabon had actually begun to move, Yukikaze had requested the details of her mission from the tactical computer in SAF headquarters. In addition to that, she’d displayed Watch on B-7 to indicate that she was beginning her own observations of Llanfabon’s movements.

A new message scrolled up onto the display.

Request sortie… STC/get permission to sortie… Captain FUKAI.

Yukikaze was asking for permission to take off. He hadn’t been expecting that, but he understood what it meant. But what was with the “Captain Fukai” bit at the end? Yukikaze had never referred to him by his name before. Was Yukikaze personally asking him, her pilot, to get permission from headquarters to take off? Before he could think about it, a new message scrolled up.

STC: permit/set 20908107-sp-mission/ready.

That had come from the tactical computer in HQ. Permission granted for sortie, mission ID number assigned.

STC: trace and watch on B-7…B-1.

Order from the tactical computer: Pursue, trace, and keep watch on Llanfabon, Yukikaze.

Roger, Yukikaze acknowledged.

STC: enter 20908107-sp-mission.

Initiating special mission number 20908107.

Action…Captain FUKAI.

Let’s get this show on the road, Captain Fukai.

Rei knew exactly what Yukikaze was asking of him. He reflexively flipped the master arm switch on, bringing all available weaponry online. This was the first time he’d ever done it inside of the hangar bay. Naturally, Yukikaze wasn’t loaded with any cannon ammo or missiles, but all of her electronic warfare systems were now active. The tracking system activated automatically. There was a faint hum from the rear of her fuselage as Yukikaze’s auxiliary power unit started up. The cables on her underside linking her to headquarters disconnected automatically, and Yukikaze entered fully independent combat mode. All flight systems started up.

An alarm warning of a taxiing plane sounded. An automatically controlled spotting dolly approached Yukikaze and linked up to her front landing gear. The sortie sequence began automatically.

Rei instinctively grabbed the flight stick. It felt unnatural to him, likely because he was touching it with bare skin. In flight, he’d be wearing flight gloves. At the moment, he wasn’t wearing a flight suit, G-suit, or his escape chute. Without a helmet on, he couldn’t connect his oxygen hose. He had to tell Yukikaze that he wasn’t in any condition to fly. She must have already known that. But there was no way to stop the takeoff sequence at this point.

Yukikaze began moving toward the elevator. Rei could still climb down out of her, but he didn’t. There would be more opportunities to get off along the way—when they stopped to take on arms and ammunition and again when they reached the surface. If he got off, Yukikaze could sortie unmanned. He didn’t want to let her do that, but he couldn’t fly with her as he was now. She would have to wait until he was ready.

But would Yukikaze wait for him?

He had to be at that lunch meeting. Not showing up for it would be a serious act of insubordination. But Yukikaze had been cleared for sortie, so what exactly was going on here?

A voice suddenly sounded from the speakers in the headset he was wearing around his neck.

“Rei, what the hell are you doing?!” Major Booker demanded. “Are you taking Yukikaze to the picnic?”

Picnic?

“Rei, answer me. Captain Fukai, I know you’re aboard Yukikaze.”

Rei pulled the headset up to his ears. It was plugged into Yukikaze’s onboard communications port, making him look like he was probing Yukikaze with a stethoscope. The message he’d just received had been an external signal. The display showed that it was originating from the terminal in Major Booker’s office.

“This is B-1,” Rei responded. “Mission ID 20908107. Making preparations to sortie and execute special mission to observe Llanfabon. Sortie sequence engaged.”

“What are you babbling about?” Major Booker said. “I ordered you to attend a lunch meeting. I never said anything about observing Llanfabon.”

“This is the result of Yukikaze wanting to find out about the mission Llanfabon is flying out on. You gave her clearance to sortie, Major.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Then who did? The tactical computer authorized this on its own? I thought the machines couldn’t make operational actions without human consent.”

“Are you telling me you’re not just doing this on your own, Rei?”

“Jack, I don’t know what’s going on here either. What does it show on your end? Does it say that I requested sortie clearance?”

“Yeah. The tactical computer says Captain Fukai issued an urgent sortie request, and that they initiated an on-the-spot mission plan due to the high-level nature of the emergency.”

“Then who gave the final clearance?”

“SSC: the SAF strategic computer. The name on the orders is General Cooley, like it ought to be, but the general says she never issued them.”

“Which means that Yukikaze shouldn’t be able to take off. The thing is, she’s engaged in a sortie sequence right now. That’s reality. So who’s in charge of this mission?”

“You, Captain Fukai. Rei, this is all on you.”

Yukikaze had now been towed completely into the elevator. The fire door closed behind them and they began to ascend.

“Of course,” Rei whispered. “Now I get it.”

Yukikaze sending a request to sortie by herself wouldn’t have gotten clearance, which was why she’d been so insistent that he, her pilot, should request it. At the same time, she’d been telling the tactical computer that Captain Fukai was requesting permission to sortie. Now he understood what that Get permission to sortie…Captain FUKAI business had been about.

“What did you agree to do on your own? This is gross insubordination and completely unauthorized. Just how do you expect to take responsibility for this? Answer me, Captain Fukai!”

The reception was crystal clear, even inside of the elevator.

“Yukikaze can take responsibility. She made the sortie request in my name.”

“You’re telling me Yukikaze used your name to trick us?”

“Yukikaze knew that I’d agree with her flying out there.”

“You just told me you didn’t know what was going on!”

“I do now, and I need to sortie. Yukikaze doesn’t like not knowing what Llanfabon’s mission objective is. That’s all she wants to know. The tactical computer agrees with her, which is why it’s sending her out. My theory is that they’ve made it out that a human—me in this case—is making the demand so that they’re technically not ignoring us and doing this on their own. The tactical computer in HQ is probably doing this so that it can amend the mission related to this lunch meeting of yours and add in a mission outline at least. That’s probably what’s going on here.”

“Amend the mission? You’re saying the tactical computer would just arbitrarily amend the contents of a mission?”

“It’d have to add it as an amendment to the special mission related to the meeting,” Rei said. “There are times when pilots on a mission have to request changes to their mission details. It’s never happened before a sortie, but the tactical computer must have judged that Yukikaze was facing that sort of situation. It was able to initiate the sortie sequence by following that protocol. This all happened because you were treating this mission as special and didn’t behave the way you would normally. In other words, your secrecy is to blame for this, Jack. If you’d just told the computer about the meeting, Yukikaze would have accepted it. So what do we do, Major? Try to forcibly abort this takeoff? That won’t be easy, since Yukikaze’s set on doing this. Even if we explained things to her now, she’d still want to check it out herself. In other words, she is going to take off and follow Llanfabon.”

“Roger,” Major Booker replied.

“Roger? Are you saying I can get ready for takeoff?”

“In regards to Yukikaze’s sortie, headquarters recognizes that it accepted a request from you, Captain Fukai. I just need you to confirm that the request came from you. That way, there’ll be no problem. You’ll be at that lunch meeting, as scheduled, and that you are Captain Rei Fukai. Do you get what I’m saying? Now, reconfirm that for me, Captain Fukai.”

“This is Captain Fukai,” Rei replied. “I will be attending the meeting. I made the request for Yukikaze to sortie. Reconfirmation, over.”

“Very good.”

“I’m going to send Yukikaze out in automaneuver mode. Is that okay, Major?”

“There’s nothing else we can do. We can’t predict what she’ll do out there, but we can analyze this and figure out how to deal with you after the mission’s over. Stand by in there and then deplane once you’re on the surface. I’m sending Captain Edith Foss up to meet you. Follow her instructions. She’ll show you where you need to go.”

“Captain Foss? Do I really need a doctor to chaperone me to this meeting? Or is she invited to it too?”

“I have no comment about who’s invited, what it’s about, or any other details. Just follow the tactical computer’s plan for Yukikaze’s weapons and fuel loadout. I’ve checked it out and it’s basically the same as Llanfabon’s. Don’t interfere.”

“This is B-1, roger. Captain Fukai, over and out.”

“Okay. Over and out.”

B-1 was Yukikaze’s sortie code number. The B was for Boomerang, the SAF’s nickname, while the number one indicated that it was Unit 1 in the squadron. Captain Fukai referred to Rei himself, of course. It was the first time he’d ever used this particular classification response.

This will be the first time Yukikaze and I will be taking separate actions, Rei thought, then corrected himself. Yukikaze has always acted on her own. I just never noticed before.

Exiting the elevator into the weapons loadout bay, Rei watched from the cockpit as she was armed and fueled. It was the same as the usual procedure to prepare a plane for sortie, except this was the first time he realized that it was fully automated. It gave him a feeling of excitement mixed with a little fear.

An automatic crane hanging from the ceiling lowered a huge drum full of autocannon ammunition into the upper side of Yukikaze’s fuselage while four short-range missiles were loaded onto her underside, two on each side. Fuel was pumped into her tanks, though Rei couldn’t be sure if the tanks were being filled completely since he didn’t know how much fuel she was cleared to carry. That was a new experience for him as well. The most he could figure out was that the fuel tanks in the wings weren’t being filled, so she wasn’t expected to fly very far.

The entire loadout procedure was completed automatically. It wasn’t just Yukikaze who was acting without any care for his thoughts on the matter. The combat intelligence in SAF headquarters didn’t seem to care either.

But he was heartened to see she wasn’t just ignoring him when a message appeared on Yukikaze’s display. The warning said that his oxygen hose and ejection seat weren’t properly set. In short, she couldn’t take off until he’d taken care of that. Rei reminded himself not to be too happy when he realized that was the point of concern.

Maybe she was telling him that he, unprepared for flight as he was, was now an obstacle. Once they reached the surface, she might decide he wasn’t needed anymore and just activate the ejection sequence. He definitely didn’t want to get thrown out in his seat. Without his parachute or even being properly strapped into it, a stunt like that would be hazardous to his health. Normally, the crew safeguards wouldn’t allow the ejection sequence to initiate if the ejection seats weren’t properly set; however…

The dolly began towing Yukikaze back to the elevator so that she could exit to the surface. Rei seriously began to think he should deplane right here. He was considering what would be safest for him. Before he’d made a decision, another message appeared on Yukikaze’s warning display:

Action…Captain FUKAI.

The message was blinking, as though Yukikaze was irritated and asking him why he was still dicking around inside of her. And he, even as he was thinking there was no way that she’d understand, told her that he wasn’t coming with her.

“I, Captain Rei Fukai, will be participating in the lunch meeting that Llanfabon has been assigned to escort. Yukikaze, you will protect me. When I reach the surface, I’ll deplane. Do you understand?”

Yukikaze did not answer. He knew she wouldn’t, but Rei didn’t feel discouraged. He’d said what he’d wanted to say. All that was left to do was pray that he’d be able to get out safely. Giving full control to Yukikaze was dangerous. He hoped his fears would prove baseless.

The sunlight from Faery’s skies streaming into the exit of the elevator building was dazzling. It was nice weather today. A little ahead of him, he could see Llanfabon. She was stopped.

Outside, Captain Edith Foss approached the newly emerged Yukikaze.

Rei tensely flipped the automaneuver switch on, declaring “You have control, Yukikaze.” She was now free to fly as she pleased.

And then Yukikaze replied. All of the warnings vanished from her display, a new message taking their place:

I have control/I wish you luck…Captain FUKAI.

Rei was scrambling up out of his seat to deplane when the second half of the message caught his eye. He stared at it, unable to look away.

“I wish you luck” was nothing more than a clichéd phrase, carrying no more meaning than “roger.” But was that the case here? Rei had never seen Yukikaze display a message like that before. There was really no need for it, was there? He considered the possibility that her specific choice to display that message meant that she understood human speech and was going out of her way to convey that to him. He should be happy about that, shouldn’t he? No, if that was the case, he was going to have to rethink his entire method of interacting with Yukikaze. This wasn’t something he could simply be happy about.

Still, he didn’t have time to consider any of that.

“Don’t close the canopy till I’m out,” he said. “You got that, Yukikaze?”

No message was displayed as a reply. The fact that the canopy isn’t automatically closing was Yukikaze’s answer, Rei thought as he yanked his headset cord and climbed down from her. He folded up the collapsible ladder into her fuselage and locked it down.

He looked up at the canopy but saw no sign that it was closing. Rei was surprised, and just as he was wondering if he was going to have to close it manually, he heard a warning chime from the cockpit. As if Yukikaze had read his mind. The tone indicated that the missiles could not be fired. Of course, Rei realized. The safety pins. Yukikaze was asking him to pull them out of the missiles.

There were weapons control personnel also there on the surface, but Rei personally walked Yukikaze’s perimeter and pulled the safety pins from all four of her short-range missiles. Once he’d finished, the canopy automatically lowered and locked. She was now ready to take off without a pilot.

“Good luck, Yukikaze,” Rei murmured.

“Yukikaze is your best friend,” said Captain Foss to Rei as she approached.

“My best friend?” he replied.

“Or perhaps your lover?”

Rei turned to face Captain Foss. “You’re wrong,” he said.

“It must be reassuring to have such a powerful friend, Captain Fukai.”

Yukikaze’s onboard engine starter system activated, despite the fact that Llanfabon’s engines weren’t started yet. Her vertical stabilizers unfolded from their horizontal storage position and rose into place. Her twin turbofan engines then started up, first the right, then the left. Rei and Captain Foss stepped away from her.

“Yukikaze isn’t my friend either. Lover? That’s ridiculous.”

“So then, what is she to you?”

As the scream of Yukikaze’s engines nearly drowned out Captain Foss’s question, Rei raised his voice to answer her, as though not wanting to let his plane have the final say.

“Yukikaze is the most dangerous combat machine on this planet,” he yelled. “She has a combat awareness that’s uniquely hers! Human relationships don’t apply to her!”

If she was anything, Yukikaze was a wild animal.

He didn’t say that, but that was what Rei thought. She was a partner with whom he was entangled in a dangerous relationship. One in which she cooperated only so long as they sought a common prey. Or perhaps, rather than a partner, he could more accurately be thought of as a trainer, teaching her how to hunt. A coach, instructing her how to fight.

Yukikaze was neither a best friend nor a lover. She was a being beyond human understanding. And he was going to get closer to her.

She wheeled around and stopped, lowering her nose. Her cannon was fixed on Llanfabon nearby, her stance now saying that she could fire at any time. Rei could just imagine the look on Lieutenant Bruys’s face as he sat aboard his plane. He must have felt like he was being stalked by a wild animal.

Yukikaze’s airframe was a little smaller than Llanfabon’s. But the Maeve aiming at the graceful body of the Super Sylph somehow seemed larger and more ferocious.

3

REI LOOKED OUT across Faery base’s vast runway but could make out nothing but fighter planes. If this lunch meeting were going to take place in the air, he’d expected there to be a large transport plane, but it looked like he’d been wrong.

So then where was it going to be?

Before he could ask, Captain Edith Foss told him to follow her and began walking in the direction of the control tower.

“The food’s probably going to be very good,” Rei said as he walked along beside her. “I’ll bet Major Booker got his hands on some food that you normally can’t get here and didn’t want the computers to know about the delicacies we’re going to have. Are you invited too?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Who else is coming?’

“I don’t know. And as appealing as a delicacy-tasting party sounds, somehow I don’t think this is going to be such a pleasant lunch. In your manner of speaking, my guess would be that Major Booker has called me in to act as a poison taster for his food. I doubt my role as the attending physician in your psychological care is unrelated to this.”

“Hm.”

“I noticed you arrived in Yukikaze. Quite a display you put on there. Did you mean that as a threat to the other participants in this meeting? Major Booker certainly knows how to liven up a show, doesn’t he?”

Captain Foss didn’t know that Yukikaze’s appearance had been wholly unexpected, and he figured she probably didn’t know that Llanfabon had been assigned to observe and protect the meeting either.

Rei said nothing. Captain Foss gave him a sidelong glance and then asked, “Or did you and not Major Booker plan that little production?”

“You don’t have to examine me anymore, Captain.”

“I’m asking this out of personal interest. I know you aren’t the sort who’d take offense at the question. You didn’t show up here in Yukikaze for some other duty, right? I don’t know why you’d go out of your way to do something like this, though. There’s a lot of things about you SAF people that are a mystery to me.”

“Having Yukikaze show up here wasn’t my idea or Major Booker’s. It wasn’t a show. It didn’t happen by chance, and it wasn’t for any other duty.”

“Could you just talk straight with me? The inability to get to the point is sometimes evidence of mental illness—”

“Okay, I don’t like you. Is that straight enough?”

“Perfectly. Now why did you show up here in Yukikaze?”

“No comment. Major Booker didn’t tell me it was okay to tell anyone else about it.”

“But you just said it wasn’t a show and it wasn’t by chance. Was it okay to say that?”

“He didn’t say to keep completely quiet about it either.”

“So then why do you say ‘no comment’ about anything more than that?”

“Because I’ve always wanted to say ‘no comment’ to somebody.”

“Are you mocking me?” Foss asked.

“Boy, there’s no hiding anything from you, is there? Yeah, I am.”

“You have some serious character issues.”

“You and me both. You’re the one who said I rode up in Yukikaze to liven up the show here. I figured, fine, have some fun and mock her right back.”

“You thought I was making fun of you?”

“I don’t get what you mean,” Rei said.

“I’m still interested in your relationship with Yukikaze. Did you really think I was mocking you when I asked if she was your lover?”

“No, you were being serious, so I answered you seriously. Why are you asking me this?”

“Why? Because this isn’t fun for me. There’s nothing fun about being mocked. You aren’t the only one who engages in this roundabout game of tit for tat. Everyone in the SAF is like that,” Foss said. “Talking to any of you pisses me off, and it’s all I’ve been able to do to maintain my personal feelings in the face of it. That goes for me both as a doctor and as an individual. But everyone has their limits, and I’ve reached mine. I hate you. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Do you understand?” A long time ago, a woman whose face he could no longer remember had said the same thing to him. Rei stopped walking and looked Captain Foss in the eye.

I hate you. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Do you understand?

What was it about him that prompted such words? What thing, what deficiency inside of him inspired such black rage?

Captain Foss also stopped walking and met Rei’s gaze. Her mouth was open, but she noticed the hard expression on his face and slowly pressed her lips back together. Rei didn’t overlook how the pupils in her eyes contracted.

This doctor had been personally angry with him before, but now something had changed. His reaction was unexpected, and so either out of curiosity or her sense of duty as a doctor, she had raised her head to study him. What was it about this patient that made him constantly contradict what she said and react so excessively?

Rei himself was bewildered by his reactions.

He thought he’d forgotten everything about his past, so why was he dredging it back up now? He’d heard similar words from other people ever since he’d joined the FAF. He’d never once been bothered by anyone saying that they hated him. All he’d said to Captain Foss before was “I don’t like you,” to which she’d responded, “I hate you. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Do you understand?” That was all it was. So what of it? He shouldn’t have any problem with that.

So why did he feel the way he did?

Was Rei’s distress over this woman declaring her hatred of him due to some unconscious desire to court the favor of the opposite sex? Would he feel the same way if this doctor had been a man? But he couldn’t count the number of times other women had said that they hated him.

Captain Foss held her breath for a few moments, waiting for Rei to say something. When it looked like he wasn’t going to, she spoke instead.

“What happened between you and Yukikaze?”

Rei sighed and asked which way to go, ignoring her question.

“We’ve got a meeting to get to. Show me the way.”

“I can’t take much more of this, Captain Fukai. Even you must have emotions. There isn’t a human alive who can be told that they’re hated and not feel something about it. I know there’s some sort of wound in your heart.”

“I’m not here to fight with you, and I don’t know you well enough to have some sort of lovers’ quarrel either.”

“The meeting’s over there. You can’t miss seeing Major Booker, can you? Rei, don’t try to avoid talking about things. This is a serious problem for you.”

“What problem?”

“You want to have a fight. You want your ‘lovers’ quarrel’ to turn into an actual loving relationship.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I want that sort of relationship with you—”

“Not with me. With Yukikaze. Captain Fukai, I’ll ask you again: what happened between you and Yukikaze?”

“No comment.”

“Then I’ll do the talking. Think of this as a monologue. You’ve been told by Yukikaze that she hates you. Not a while ago, but very recently. And so what I said reminded you of that—”

“Yukikaze has no emotions.”

“But you do. Even you don’t know what will happen if, for example, somebody says that they hate you, and now Yukikaze is ignoring you. When I asked you before if Yukikaze was your lover, you knew already that she wasn’t. That wasn’t the relationship you shared before. You want to go back to that relationship, but you also know now that you can’t. So you attempted to erase your irritation, your feelings of being jilted, by mocking me. But when I refused to play along, you felt how empty you really were inside.”

Foss continued. “The problem is that Yukikaze is changing, whether you like it or not. When I said I hate you and don’t want to talk to you anymore, it felt like it was coming from Yukikaze. The reason for this must be that something similar happened between you and she. That’s why I asked you what it was. You don’t have to tell me, but then I want you to please stop using me as your emotional outlet. I’m an individual human being too, Captain Fukai. I’m not your lover, your best friend, your caregiver, your mommy, or your babysitter, and I’d like you to please stop mocking me. If I wasn’t a doctor, I’d tell you that you’re not the only human being and that you should try to be aware of how self-centered you are.”

“You have been telling me that,” Rei said.

“I said this was a monologue.”

“Well, since you are a doctor, I’ll tell you this: You see me as a patient with psychological problems. You wouldn’t say what you did to most people, because there’s no need to. If you hate somebody, you can just stay away. So was everything you did planned from the start? Did you intentionally try to piss me off just to see what my reaction would be?”

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you,” Foss said. “You really don’t understand how to interact with people at all, do you?”

“Because your attitude is constantly changing on me.”

“I haven’t changed one bit. Or maybe you’re asking me to wear a little meter on my chest that’ll tell you when I’m angry or sad, in a good mood or a bad one.”

“That’d actually be a big help to me,” Rei said.

“Even if I did wear one, you wouldn’t look at it. Or maybe you would, but you wouldn’t understand it. That’s the sort of person you are. You should restrict your lovers’ quarrels to Yukikaze. She’s got plenty of meters for you to read.” And with that Captain Foss stalked off.

I think I’m the one being used as an emotional outlet here, Rei thought. More taken aback than shocked, he followed after her.

Still, he thought, I have to take my hat off to her powers of insight. Captain Foss had transferred into the SAF only a short time ago, but she already understood very well what Yukikaze meant to him. While Rei had been busy lately seeing what changes were going on in Yukikaze, this doctor had observed changes in him instead.

Feelings of being jilted was what Captain Foss had called it. In response to Yukikaze’s peculiar actions lately, he found himself feeling as though he’d been betrayed by his lover. Having the fact pointed out to him, he had no choice but to agree.

But Yukikaze wasn’t that sort of companion. Their relationship wasn’t the sweet one of lovers, and he could see that now. It was much harsher than that. Yukikaze would cast him away if he wasn’t able to provide what she asked of him. That wouldn’t lead to an emotion as sentimental as being jilted. Being cast aside by Yukikaze was a matter of whether or not his life had meaning.

Much as he didn’t want to talk about his feelings of abandonment, there was no denying that he did feel fear in his heart. Captain Foss had pointed out something like that to him.

Not understanding and then being abandoned. He hated that. No, there was a perfectly straightforward way he could express it.

“I…” Rei had stopped again. He turned his head to look back and murmured, “I’m afraid of Yukikaze.”

That was how he really felt, the true feelings he felt toward her that he hadn’t wanted to admit. Actually saying the words made him shiver.

He was being warned of a coming separation from the companion with whom he thought he’d shared a deep relationship. And Rei knew that the cause of his estrangement from Yukikaze was from some internal trait or deficiency of his.

Just as Captain Foss had pointed out, he didn’t know how to get along with other people. Even though it was so simple. Strangers are other people, and he and other people were all beings who lived in different worlds, internal worlds. Rei would have been better off if he’d just acknowledged the truth. Real relationships started from there. Whether between enemies or lovers, it didn’t matter. In short, up till then, he’d never actually had a relationship with anybody. Not even with Yukikaze.

Major Booker had told him the same thing, but he hadn’t been able to acknowledge his true feelings before. He hadn’t been able to admit that he was afraid of Yukikaze now. I’ve never really feared others, and so no one has ever feared me. That’s why others tell me, “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

The thing he needed to fear now was Yukikaze. After that, the JAM. Rei realized that he’d never really feared the enemy before. Talking with Captain Foss had allowed him to see that.

“It’s okay, Captain Fukai,” Captain Foss said, turning to face him. “You’ll be able to get control of Yukikaze. And even if you don’t, no one will blame you for it. You know Yukikaze better than anyone else.”

“I can’t even have an argument with her.”

“So keep close watch on those meters. Use her gauges to have your arguments. That’d suit you better, anyway.”

Rei considered her words.

“You’re right,” he said at last. “You’re absolutely right. You’re a hell of a doctor, Captain Foss.”

There was no need to do away with his fear. The effort to eliminate his fear would be immense, because the problem here wasn’t that he shouldn’t fly Yukikaze if he was afraid.

What he wanted to do was convey the truth of his fear of her to Yukikaze, and the only way to do that would be to read her gauges—and also read the data they didn’t reveal—and then act in accordance. If it worked, then Yukikaze might fear him the way he feared her. Or Yukikaze might possibly take action to indicate that she didn’t want him to fear her. At any rate, he could guess that she was going to fight him. If he could prevent her from resisting his attempts to communicate, she would refuse to accept his control. They would, in effect, be arguing. And any opponent you could argue with, you can negotiate with as well. He’d never taken his relationship with Yukikaze this far before. He didn’t know if it would work. He didn’t even know if any of this was a good idea, but that was how these things went.

“Thank you, Captain Fukai,” said Captain Foss in response to Rei’s compliment about her skill as a doctor. The words were cold, and her expression didn’t look very thankful.

Well, what else could he expect? He’d said he didn’t like her without really understanding what it was he was saying. He doubted she’d be genuinely happy for his breakthrough. Still, to him, this doctor was like bitter medicine. Even if he didn’t like her, she was still necessary.

Thinking that, Rei said nothing else and headed off for the meeting. Major Booker, looking royally pissed, waved for them to hurry up.

4

“WHAT THE HELL are those two doing?” wondered Major Booker aloud. They were just standing there talking as though they’d forgotten how important this thing he’d called them out for was. Maybe Rei was talking about what had happened with Yukikaze. Even so, it was rare to see him so engrossed in a conversation. Captain Foss looked angry, like they were having a fight. Since when had those two gotten close enough to start having arguments with each other?

Well, I can find out what they’re talking about later, he thought. As the two of them began walking again, he looked to their rear.

There sat Llanfabon, her nose pointed directly at them. He’d ordered that all conversation at this meeting be collected and recorded with the plane’s super directional microphones. Behind her sat Yukikaze, whom he hadn’t ordered to be there.

She probably didn’t care what the humans thought of her ignoring them and coming out here on her own. But whatever her reasons for coming, it’s not worth getting too worried about, Major Booker decided.

Yukikaze had used the SAF’s command system while her pilot, Rei, was aboard her and then come out. That would have been impossible had he not been there. Her operational objectives were simple and clear: seek out and destroy the JAM.

It was really very easy to understand. If Yukikaze possessed emotions, then she feared the JAM. That was manifesting in Yukikaze’s behavior.

Her behavior was consistent. The question to be considered was this: would her fear of the JAM become a threat to humans? But there was no need to make her understand their situation. Having her think about the humans’ circumstances and then take action accordingly would practically make Yukikaze human herself. Demands like that would just degrade her abilities in combat. She was an emotionless combat machine. That was what made her effective against the JAM. If there were any demands to be made of Yukikaze, they would be to protect herself and her crew, and nothing more. That would be enough.

The two of them finally arrived. Captain Foss saluted. Rei followed her lead, although his salute was a bit more casual.

“You’re late,” said Major Booker.

“Stuff happened,” said Rei. “It doesn’t look like the guests of honor have arrived yet. Don’t tell me the three of us are out here for an office barbecue. Who else is coming? Some VIP from Earth?”

On the short purplish Faery grass of a small clearing to the side of the control tower, a barbecue grill had been set up. A folding table and six chairs were set for a picnic. Where had all of this stuff come from? Rei wondered. It felt more like a garden party with a chef than a picnic on a lawn. There was even a man wearing chef’s whites standing at the grill, checking the burners.

“The guest of honor will be Lieutenant General Gibril Laitume, commander of the Tactical Combat Air Corps of Faery Base,” Major Booker replied. “The man who is technically our boss. Also with him will be the de facto top man of the FAF intelligence forces, Colonel Ansel Rombert. And rounding things out will be Brigadier General Cooley, the actual head of the SAF.”

General Laitume was officially the commander of the Special Air Force, with General Cooley serving as his deputy, but in reality General Cooley ran the SAF by herself.

“A real power lunch, eh?” said Captain Foss. “I wonder if some major business is going to be discussed here.”

“Who’s the chef?” asked Rei. “I haven’t seen him before.”

“Because he doesn’t fly a fighter,” replied Major Booker. “A chef’s battlefield is the kitchen. Allow me to introduce you. This is Chef Murullé, head chef of the SAF’s dining hall.”

“Just call me Murullé. Galleé Murullé.”

Unlike the other air corps, which often had two or more facilities, the SAF dining hall was unusual in that it only had one. Having multiple dining facilities wasn’t simply a matter of the number of personnel needing to be fed, they also served to divide the field officers from the lower ranks. The SAF made no such distinctions.

Rei knew the chef had to be a soldier. Major Booker wouldn’t have appointed him to this position unless he had the major’s trust, Rei thought. Other corps had very skilled chefs in their employ, some of them civilian contractors invited from Earth. Very prideful, these contractors considered themselves better than the regular soldiers and had a tendency to look down on the legitimate members of the FAF. After all, many of the soldiers here were actually criminals who’d been sent here for their crimes. However, the SAF had no contractors working for it. Everyone in it was a soldier, and this chef should be no exception. He’d probably committed some antisocial act or crime back on Earth and been sent to the SAF as a result.

Rei didn’t particularly care what circumstances brought the man here. It was just that thinking of the food he always ate and knowing that this man was in charge of providing it gave him a feeling of intimacy. He’d never particularly thought about food before, but he’d never eaten anything bad on Faery either. That was probably a source of happiness for both himself and the chef.

Galleé Murullé gave him a quick nod and then went back to the task of examining the ingredients laid out on a large push wagon.

“I’m glad you made it in time,” said Major Booker as he spied a group of figures emerging from the control tower’s ground-level exit. “If you two had gotten here after the guests of honor, my career would have been over.”

General Cooley led the group, followed by the two men. They had no escorts.

The large, dark-skinned man was Gibril Laitume, the general of the Combat Air Corps. Well, lieutenant general, anyway. Rei knew the man’s name, although this was the first time he’d ever been in his presence. He looks exactly like the sort of general who’ll die a ridiculous death, Rei thought. The other thing about this man he’d never met that had made an impression was his name, Gibril, because Major Booker had explained that it was an alternate pronunciation of the name of the angel Gabriel.

Leaving aside the matter of whether the name of this lucky angel was appropriate for him, when Major Booker had told Rei that the general was a devout believer in one all-powerful god, Rei’d replied that he was glad he wasn’t. He had no contract with any such omnipotent being and didn’t ask for any favors from him. On the other hand, he wasn’t liable to get punished for betraying him either. Major Booker had wearily replied that God himself didn’t directly hand out the punishments, and that he shouldn’t say things like that to devout followers of a religion. At worst, he might get killed by one. At the very least, all he’d be doing is buying their antipathy.

Naturally, Rei wasn’t intentionally looking to nitpick any stranger’s beliefs, but hearing someone say, “You’ll be punished by heaven if you don’t believe” just pissed him off. He didn’t want to hear that from anyone, be they a believer or the religion’s founder itself. People come up with all sorts of theories with which to control others who won’t be manipulated as they like, and they tend to shun those who will not be brought into the fold. It wasn’t a question of the existence of a supreme being; if one did exist, then human opinion would likely matter very little in how that being used its power. Divine punishment wasn’t something for humans to declare, and in general it was just presumptuous for any person to judge who deserved it. The will of a supreme being might not match up to the expectations of his adherents. After all, it would be the god’s lack of concern for individual people that made it a suitable object of fear and worship. But if such a being did exist, there’d be little difference between belief and unbelief. Either way, its will would be beyond human means of control, and so it would all boil down to what advantages its adherents gain from their relationship with it on the human plane of existence. If some joined their group and thus gained comfort, then so be it. And if others found the group annoying, they could just stay away from them. That was all there was to it. Personally, Rei didn’t believe in a supreme being of any sort. The only existence he could be absolutely certain of was his own.

Of course, this was all probably taboo when it came to talking to General Laitume.

The other man, Colonel Rombert, Rei had met once before. Thin, with sharp eyes, he could only be a member of the Intelligence Forces. He’d asked him repeatedly about how the JAM had made a copy of his flight officer Lieutenant Burgadish on the last mission Yukikaze flew in her previous airframe. The interrogation had made him feel like he was a spy. Even after the man had driven Rei to exhaustion, Rombert hadn’t let him go. He was a hardcore intel officer. Even so, he hadn’t come off as a heartless machine. Rei recalled that, occasionally, his sense of humor would poke its way to the surface. It showed as part of his interrogation training, though.

For example, at one point the colonel had said, “There have been times when I’ve wished I could just eat up somebody I didn’t like right from the start. I’ve probably thought about it myself, like how my brain would taste and the like. If I could make a copy of myself, I could try it out. The JAM made a copy of you too, right? You blew your big chance to see how you’d taste, don’t you think?”

Basically, he was working under the assumption that Rei had hated Lieutenant Burgadish, took the opportunity to murder him, and then made up the whole story about the copies and everything else. Rather than asking him straight out, Rombert had been trying to tease it out of the suspect in a roundabout way. Rei’s impression was that here was a man he couldn’t eat. When he’d told the colonel that, Rombert had replied in deadly earnest, “I think you and I can talk with each other.” For Rei’s part, he hadn’t particularly wanted to keep talking to the man.

These two men, General Laitume and Colonel Rombert, were both prime examples of humanity. The woman leading them, General Cooley of the SAF, was not.

It was difficult to pin down what she was thinking or where her values lay, and she didn’t really care if that was the impression of her people had. Rei, on the other hand, felt a comforting familiarity about her. Other people, like Captain Foss, might judge the general to be a bit of a strange woman, but not Rei. It wasn’t necessary to think of her as a human. To him, she was just the person who issued his orders, and she caused no problems for him beyond that.

Still, lately Rei had found himself wondering what had brought her to Faery.

Captain Foss told him that General Cooley was a distant relative of hers. She wasn’t just a general; she was somebody’s child and had family too. It had taken Captain Foss’s words to make Rei aware of this very obvious fact.

That was just one more thing he was lately curious about, where once he’d paid no attention to it at all. Rei had once believed that anything unrelated to combat wasn’t worth thinking about. Though he was going through some changes, Rei didn’t believe they were making him weaker.

Major Booker approached the three officers and saluted them. Rei followed his lead.

General Cooley introduced her subordinates, and General Laitume personally greeted the three SAF personnel, a good-natured smile on his lips. First Major Booker, then Rei, and finally Captain Foss. However, when he stopped in front of the woman doctor, he reached his hand out toward her breasts. Captain Foss stiffened, looking startled, which elicited a laugh from the general. “Your lapel pin’s crooked, Captain.” He chuckled as he straightened it with his fingertip.

“It didn’t look crooked to me,” Colonel Rombert said coldly. “You have good eyes, General. And fast hands.”

“And you, Colonel,” the general said with a laugh, “have bad eyes and a nasty mouth.”

“I can see that Captain Foss is a young and attractive woman,” the colonel replied. “But I didn’t see a crooked lapel pin. I’ve heard you don’t have the best reputation with the ladies, General. Oh, forgive me. My ears must not be very good either.”

“And you’d better not forget that, Colonel Rombert. Captain Foss, be careful with your pin from now on.”

“Yes…sir,” replied Captain Foss.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Well, General Cooley, shall we get started?”

General Laitume moved off. Cooley followed, suggesting that they start with some champagne as she showed him to his seat.

“I appreciated that, Colonel,” Captain Foss whispered. “The general has a reputation for doing things like that.”

“Can’t hear you,” Colonel Rombert replied with a smile. “Didn’t you hear me say that my ears were bad? Although I do think my eyesight is quite keen. Well, it doesn’t detract from his skill as a soldier, so that’s a saving grace, at least. Now then, you think I could get a Guinness here?”

“All ready for you,” said Major Booker. “I made sure to find out what you liked.”

“You really do prepare well. It’s hard to tell who are the real Intelligence Forces around here. So just what is the SAF up to? No, wait, the whole point of this lunch meeting is to ask about that. Let’s relax and enjoy ourselves first. Captain Foss, would you do me the honor of joining me?”

Captain Foss looked at Major Booker, wondering what to do. The major gave a tiny nod, and Captain Foss moved off with Colonel Rombert.

Rei sighed.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Major Booker said. “It’s such a pain in the ass.”

“The general and the colonel are a lot alike,” Rei replied.

“I guess that’s what they call the ‘secret intentions of men.’ The colonel’s a smart one. I think you know just how intelligent that man is. When it comes to relationships between men and women, what goes on in your head isn’t always logical, but people who ignore logic end up hated. On that point, the colonel’s—”

“Yeah,” Rei said with a nod. “That’s exactly right.”

“…success rate is pretty high. Wait, what are you agreeing with? Did something happen between you and Edith?”

“Not between her and me. I meant my relationship with Yukikaze. I thought it wasn’t logical, but that’s absurd. Yukikaze is nothing but a mass of logic. If I ignore that, of course she’d hate me.”

“Yukikaze isn’t a woman, Rei.”

“I know that. I know. Captain Foss taught me that a little while ago. I’ll give you a report later.”

“Please. Oh, and while you might not like it, the two of us are strictly alcohol-free here.”

“You’re not Colonel Rombert, so quit kidding around, Major.”

“How am I…?!”

“Until Yukikaze’s back in the hangar bay, this is a combat mission,” Rei said. “Of course I wouldn’t joke around or have a drink. I want to finish this up as soon as we can. So get to work, Major Booker.”

“You really are some kind of high-efficiency combat machine, aren’t you? And you’ve gotten tougher than I thought you were, although ‘tough’ can be another word for ‘idiot.’ ”

“You’re right… I’m sorry. I’m afraid of Yukikaze, but I think it’s different from the threat you sense from her.”

“Why don’t we have a drink later, then?”

“Sounds good. Let’s do that.”

The lunch meeting, seemingly calm on the surface, began.

5

GENERAL LAITUME, HOLDING, holding his glass in one hand, his cheeks stuffed with meat, looked at Llanfabon and Yukikaze in the distance. “The SAF certainly has some nice fighters. I’m jealous,” he said.

“The SAF only has thirteen fighter planes at its disposal,” General Cooley replied. “I believe you have two hundred seventy-nine of them under your command.”

“They’re yours, don’t worry, General Cooley. Besides, I don’t have two hundred seventy-nine planes in my air wing anymore. It’s two hundred seventy-seven now. We lost two of them yesterday. I thought the SAF had confirmed that.”

“I beg your pardon, General.”

Rei knew General Cooley wouldn’t make a mistake about the number of planes. She was testing General Laitume, and obviously he knew his job.

“We hit them and hit them, but the JAM keep coming. It’s like they spring out of nowhere. I’ve really come to hate it.”

“We can’t ignore the fact that war weariness is spreading, even through the FAF’s upper ranks,” added Colonel Rombert. “The brass have that luxury. The lower ranks are too busy fighting to complain about how much they hate doing this. They’re the ones who are keeping the FAF afloat.”

“What do you mean by that, Colonel?”

“If you resign your commission, a man of your position is guaranteed a life back on Earth. It’s not like that for the soldiers at the front lines. Many are convicts. That’s why they can’t say how much they hate this.”

“And which are you?”

“I’m a man who’s enjoying his work here. I’ll have many happy memories of this place after I retire. Even more so if we win the war with the JAM.”

“Saying that war weariness is spreading through the upper ranks is inexcusable, Colonel,” General Cooley said. “If I were to say something like that, a commissioned officer in the Intelligence Forces like you would probably have me court-martialed.”

“Hardly. I don’t have that sort of authority. I might want to, but I doubt you’d ever willingly abandon your position and status. I expressed myself poorly. My point was that the high command doesn’t have a way to break this stalemate we’re in. That’s related to the feelings of helplessness we have toward the JAM, because we still don’t even know what we’re fighting. The SAF exists because it possesses a system that can help us discover what the JAM are. Do you have any leads on that, Major Booker?”

“If I had good news, I’d have thrown a huge gala party instead of this lunch meeting. Unfortunately, I don’t,” Major Booker said. “There’s something the people in charge of the Intelligence Forces and the regular forces want to hear from the SAF.”

“And are you going to tell us?”

The general, who’d been happily grazing at the buffet, sat down for the first time. The others followed suit, all save General Cooley, who began to speak.

“The information I’m about to tell you is secret. SAF Unit 7 over there has been assigned the task of disrupting any attempt at spying on this meeting. Our unit can’t interfere with how you use this information after I give the report, but I hope that you will be extremely careful with what you choose to do with it.”

“Hm. You’ll put this down in a memo, won’t you? I didn’t bring my private secretary because you told me not to, but—” General Laitume said.

“There will be no memos made. The details are simple. I’ll have Major Booker give the report. Major?”

Major Booker was about to stand up when General Laitume told him to stay seated and just get on with it.

“All right, regarding the first point,” the major began. “I’d like to amend the official record on the shooting down of the former SAF Unit 13, piloted by Second Lieutenant Yagashira. While it was reported that his plane was shot down by the JAM, in truth he was downed by Captain Fukai here, a first lieutenant at the time, piloting Yukikaze. I was also aboard Yukikaze when it happened. It was not a mistake. The shooting was intentional.”

“Was Yagashira attempting to desert under fire?” asked Colonel Rombert. “If he was, then shooting him down would have been the normal thing to do. There was no reason to cover it up.”

“We determined that Lieutenant Yagashira was a JAM,” Major Booker replied. “He was a human duplicate created by the JAM. Captain Fukai gave us a report of encountering these JAM duplicates. We suspected that these humanoid weapons had already infiltrated the FAF, and I’m here today to report that they have.”

“Hm…” said General Laitume. “That makes things even more complicated for us.”

“Can you give us some proof this isn’t some excuse from the SAF?” asked Colonel Rombert. “As in, some proof that this isn’t your attempt to cover up a deadly friendly fire incident against an SAF plane and place the blame on the JAM? Aren’t you just trying to protect Lieutenant—pardon me, Captain Fukai there? I don’t know how else to put this, but his mental state at the time probably wasn’t that stable.”

“I was the one who ordered Yagashira’s plane to be shot down,” Major Booker said. “I’ve had Captain Foss here prepare a certificate confirming the mental state of both myself and Captain Fukai. You may also question Captain Foss about it directly. Captain Foss has her suspicions that the enemy we fight isn’t real but an imaginary one created by the SAF, which is why she transferred into our unit. In other words, she’s a neutral party here.”

“I never seriously claimed that the JAM were something that the SAF was making up,” Captain Foss protested. “All I said was that I thought it was a possibility. But that was just my own way of analyzing the SAF’s culture of secrecy. That being the case, I’d judge the probability of the report Major Booker just gave being some sort of propaganda to be very low. This notion that Lieutenant Yagashira was a JAM is news to me, but I find it hard to believe that the SAF would invent a threat that would endanger its own internal organization. If Major Booker is lying now, then I can only speculate that the SAF is operating in a way that I cannot understand.”

“The SAF is already on record as having committed serious offenses,” General Laitume interjected, a look of disdain on his face. “There was the indiscriminate firing upon a front-line base. And I believe the personal name of the plane taking that action was Yukikaze. Since the attack occurred while the plane was flying unmanned, we just put it down as a programming error. Do you know how much trouble I went through to take care of that?”

“That incident and the Lieutenant Yagashira incident are not unrelated,” Major Booker said. “Yukikaze knew that human duplicates like Yagashira had already infiltrated that front-line base, TAB-15. That’s why she initiated the attack. But this isn’t a problem we can leave to our combat machines. You understand, don’t you? Every human is now under suspicion. If our combat machines, combat intelligences, and computers decide that they just don’t want to deal with humans anymore, they’re capable of cleaning up the battlefield by just clearing us out. That’s the reason this meeting is being held in such secrecy.”

“May I assume that when you intentionally had Lieutenant Yagashira sortie and destroyed a very expensive fighter plane along with him, it was because you couldn’t confirm beforehand whether or not he was a JAM?” asked Colonel Rombert. “You determined he was a JAM for the first time when he took hostile action against you during the sortie.”

“That’s correct, Colonel,” said Major Booker.

“If these human duplicates are indistinguishable from us,” the colonel continued, “then there is a definite possibility that our battle computers would conclude that all humans would have to be excluded from the battlefield. It’s a logical decision.”

“Why are you saying it so calmly?” General Laitume shot back. “Are you telling me you think that’d be for the best?”

“No, I’m just doing my job. The JAM aren’t the only enemies the FAF has had to worry about. We used to face subversive elements causing trouble here. Infiltrators from Earth. In other words, humans. There were lots of people, both civilians and government agents, who came here to gather intel, then leak information in order to damage the FAF. There was no way we could spot them from their external appearances because they were all real humans. If the JAM are doing that now, then there’s no difference between them and those spies we used to get. Exposing them will be our job. The battle computers certainly can’t do this. Major Booker, about how many JAM do you think have infiltrated us so far?”

“We expect that any flight crews who were recently shot down and were missing temporarily before their rescue have been copied by the enemy and turned into these ‘JAM people.’ ”

“JAM people, huh,” murmured Colonel Rombert. “Call them Jammies. Too bad they don’t have some distinguishing feature on them, like a reversed-spin tail or something.”

“They have no distinguishing features. Lots of these Jammies have probably infiltrated our front-line bases. There are at least a dozen questionable people here at Faery Base.”

“If you’ve got the suspects marked, it makes my job simple,” the colonel said. “I’ll have them detained. This is a great chance to get some information about the JAM.”

“That won’t work,” Major Booker replied. “They won’t know why you’re holding them because they aren’t aware that they’re JAM.”

“I’ll check that out on my own. That’s our duty, after all. Leave it to me.”

“I don’t care if you investigate them, Colonel,” said General Cooley, “but under no circumstances are you to let on that they’re JAM. Not even to the people you’re holding. That’s the second point that the SAF wishes to convey.”

“What do you mean, General? I don’t understand.”

“If this becomes common knowledge, we’re going to see the morale of the entire Faery Air Force drop right before our eyes. The only outcome will be the FAF collapsing from within,” Cooley said. “Besides, I can imagine that those we’ve marked as possible JAM have either been tortured or hypnotized into not even knowing that they are JAM. If that’s true, then there’s nothing to be gained by letting this go public.”

“Their objective is to gather information about human beings. They have to return to their side once they have it,” said Major Booker, picking up where General Cooley had left off. “When these Jammies leave on a sortie, they take their information with them and then separate from their units, possibly by allowing themselves to be shot down. The SAF’s fighters can go after them. We’d like you to permit us to do this. That’s point three, and we’d like your opinion on it, sir.”

“My God,” murmured Captain Foss. “It’s too risky.”

“This isn’t anything that I have the authority to approve,” General Laitume said, an edge in his voice. “This entertainment you’ve arranged isn’t nearly good enough to move me to do something like that. No, this is a joke. If the SAF engages in these activities, I will not give my approval! Captain Foss was right, this is dangerous. If you do that without some public announcement of why, it’ll not only destroy your reputations, but my own as well! Besides, if I let you do that, there’s also the danger that no one would be able to stop your rampage. The FAF and the SAF would end up at war with each other.”

“If people acknowledge that there are JAM within the FAF now, our combat intelligences will use it as an excuse to lock us out of this fight,” Major Booker pleaded. “Even now, the machines are starting to feel that we’re in their way. If we accept that, then all of us will have to abandon this war. The number of unmanned planes will increase and we humans will be sent back to Earth in short order. If that happens, it’s possible that JAM duplicates will mix in with us, and they’ll have succeeded in expanding the battlefield back to Earth. Once that happens, humanity will have no place left to run to.”

“Even if that happens,” added Rei, who’d been silently listening the whole time, “the people on Earth will have no real sense that anything strange has occurred. It’ll be like it always is, with wars breaking out here and there. The people involved will only be concerned with defending their own territory. All the JAM will have to do is sit back and watch humanity wipe itself out.”

“You’re the man who brought this trouble back to us, aren’t you?” asked General Laitume, eyeing Rei coldly. “You’re the one who seems like a JAM.”

“There are truths in this world that we’d be happier not knowing,” Rei replied. “I was shot by a JAM duplicate. Now that I know they exist, it’s only natural that I do something about it. Ignoring the truth doesn’t make it go away. It’s possible the JAM have already infiltrated Earth. We don’t have anyplace left to run, which means our only option is to fight.”

“You said that Yukikaze knew these beings were at that front-line base while she was flying unmanned,” said Colonel Rombert. “That means the SAF’s computers already know the truth. Have they begun seeing humans as a hindrance to them?”

“Yes, there’ve been signs of that,” Major Booker said. “However, the SAF’s combat intelligences operate independently of the other ones in the FAF. They don’t share their data. That’s obvious by the fact that this information wasn’t transmitted to you. They can’t deny a human access to it, so if it gets transmitted, they won’t be able to hide something as big as this. For now, though, they can.”

“Yukikaze isn’t hiding anything,” Rei said. “She seeks my cooperation in order to survive. Whether or not I can guess what she’s thinking is going to determine how long the rest of my life is going to be.”

“What you’ve said seems to have struck a chord in my heart,” Colonel Rombert said. “Since you’ve identified these potential Jammies, I’ll have them investigated in absolute secrecy, just as we’d normally do. Until we spot some distinguishing feature we can use to distinguish them from humans, I won’t even tell my subordinates what they’re observing them for. That way, if this does turn out to be some trick being carried out by the SAF, I’ll be the only one who looks like an idiot. However, I’d like to offer one proposal in this matter.”

“Tell us, please,” said General Laitume. “I’d like your insight into this.”

“There’s an easy way to keep all of these suspects under surveillance. Form a new unit made up of only them. Since they’ve all been shot down by the JAM, we can call it a retraining unit. A thorough check of the physical and psychological states of its members for analysis wouldn’t be at all unnatural for something like that. It’s a good way for us to check and see if they’re Jammies or not. Even if the SAF’s intelligence turns out to be false, retraining people who have been defeated before still wouldn’t be a waste of our time.”

“Excellent! There’s a proposal I’ll be able to present. If I put some effort into it, I should be able to sell my corps on setting up a new unit like that,” General Laitume said with a nod.

“Then we just have to sit back and see what happens. If they’re JAM, then they’ll make a move of some sort. If they try to desert under fire, we won’t need to send the SAF out after them. My people will take care of them right there and then. If we can bring them back alive, we can either put the screws to them in interrogation or just execute them without the need for a court martial.”

“You should try to bring your information back without resorting to such savage means,” Rei said. “The JAM don’t understand humans. That’s why you can’t argue with them. We should teach them what humans are. From there, we can start fighting them.”

“We didn’t ask your opinion,” replied General Cooley, cutting Rei off. “I still don’t understand why Major Booker asked you to attend—”

“To ask the captain his opinion,” Major Booker interjected. “Captain Fukai, what would you do if I ordered you to make contact with the JAM again? Right now, we’re seriously considering it.”

“Major Booker, what are you talking about?” asked General Cooley. “You never told me about any such operation.”

“If you order me to, I’ll do it,” Rei replied. “I think the JAM want to as well. Three days ago, on a recon mission out to Richwar, I was approached by two JAM fighters. Looking back at it now, I think they were trying to make contact with me. It was as if they recognized Yukikaze. They didn’t launch a preemptive strike against me, though they had the opportunity.

“I think this operation is worthy of consideration,” he continued. “General Cooley, this is the real third point. I’d also like to ask General Laitume his opinion. If we carry this out without hearing from him, he’ll just think that Yukikaze and I are JAM.”

“Have Captain Fukai make contact with the JAM again, you say?” asked Colonel Rombert. “In other words, appoint him our ambassador plenipotentiary.”

“I will not grant this man plenipotentiary powers,” General Laitume protested.

“Then you can contact the JAM,” Rei said. “You can ride in Yukikaze.”

“Watch your mouth!”

“No matter who goes, I don’t think the JAM will accept them,” Colonel Rombert interjected. “The SAF has become disconnected from reality, letting its delusions run away with them—”

An alarm sounded nearby, cutting him off.

“Air raid,” Rei said. “JAM approaching.”

“It’s not unusual,” General Laitume said. “My corps will—”

“General, this is no time to be boasting about how good your forces are,” Major Booker said sharply. “Get to shelter. We can ask your final opinion on this matter later. General Cooley, please, take our guests and get them to shelter fast.”

From the apron near the SAF underground hangar entrance, the shrill scream of high-output turbofan engines revving up pierced their ears. Yukikaze spun around. She was prepared for takeoff.

“Llanfabon! Lieutenant Bruys, do you hear me?” shouted Major Booker. “Mission accomplished! RTB! The meeting’s over. Contact HQ! Cut in on the emergency line! That’s an order! Confirm receipt of orders by blinking your landing lights three times! When you contact HQ, blink them once!”

Llanfabon confirmed with its lights. Bruys could hear the major’s words.

“Yukikaze’s moving out,” Rei said coolly. “Aren’t you going to stop her, Jack?”

“We have no way to contact her, and there’s no time for us to get back to HQ and contact her.”

“You could do it from Llanfabon.”

“Do you want me to, Rei?”

“No, let her go. Yukikaze wants to shoot down some JAM.”

“I’m a little worried, since she’s only loaded with enough fuel for ten minutes of air combat,” the major replied. “But I’m interested in seeing what she’ll do on her own. I don’t want to interfere.”

“She’d still be doing this even if I were aboard. Yukikaze’s decided that there’s no time to take refuge. The enemy’s close. Close. They’re almost here.”

Yukikaze was protecting herself. If an aerial recon plane had spotted the enemy earlier and Yukikaze received that intel, she’d have probably sprung into action the moment it reached her. She would have taken refuge if there’d been time, thought Rei. If she was choosing to intercept them rather than run, it meant that she thought the situation was dangerous.

“Jack, we’d better get out of here too.”

Before he’d even finished speaking, two high-speed objects and their accompanying shock waves tore through the skies right above them. A pair of high-velocity missiles. Rei didn’t bother looking where they were headed; he was gazing in the direction they’d come from. Directly behind, flying so low that it was cutting a swath through the forest, a pitch-black JAM hit-and-away strike fighter had appeared. With the kinetic vision Rei had been trained to have, he saw what followed as though in slow motion.

From behind the JAM fighter flew a missile, driving its way toward the enemy plane. It had been fired by an FAF Faery Base defense air corps fighter flying a combat air patrol in the area. The JAM began jinking wildly to shake it off, but it was too late. The missile looked like it was going to score a direct hit, but its proximity fuse activated before it could. The sound of the explosions came in quick succession, echoing into the sky.

Rei immediately threw himself on top of Captain Foss to shield her. The exploding missile rained shrapnel down in every direction, with some of it striking the ground so hard that Rei himself could feel it. As the series of explosions resounded over their heads, the JAM fighter began a climbing turn, black smoke pouring from its fuselage. There was a flash, followed by another explosion. The JAM self-destructed. Fragments of the plane fell toward the forest.

Two interceptors from the Tactical Combat Air Corps that had been on scramble standby managed to evade the JAM missile attack and had taken off in formation. On the side of the runway, two planes were on fire.

Rei searched for Yukikaze.

Yukikaze…was accelerating in the opposite direction from the two fighters. She then lit her afterburners and began a practically vertical climb at maximum thrust. There were still JAM to fight.

Rei helped Captain Foss to her feet. Major Booker and Gallé Murullé had fallen to the ground. The guests were nowhere to be seen. They must have managed to get to shelter.

“Jack, you okay?” Rei asked.

Shaking his head, Major Booker took Rei’s outstretched hand and got to his feet.

“Shit, I can’t believe I nearly bought it from one of our own missiles. I can barely hear anything.”

“Edith, how’s the chef?”

Captain Foss rushed over to Murullé’s side, then shook her head. His chef’s whites were stained deep red. He raised his right hand and pointed into the sky. Looking up, Rei saw four vapor trails stretching out, high in the clear skies. It could only be one thing: Yukikaze had fired her short-range missiles.

“Jack, get Edith to shelter, then send a rescue team.”

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us!”

Rei took Captain Foss’s place and knelt at Murullé’s side, taking hold of his hand. Rei had wanted to see how Yukikaze would fight. Maybe this chef did as well, he thought.

“Were the JAM targeting this meeting, Major?”

“I don’t know,” Major Booker answered. He ordered Captain Foss to call for a rescue team and then stayed behind as well. “The planes we had on scramble standby were watching us. I’ll bet they were having some fun and chatting about it on the comm lines. The JAM may have shown up by coincidence; perhaps they thought something interesting was happening out here. Llanfabon and Yukikaze both must have recorded the data on them. We’ll know for sure once it’s analyzed.”

“I think this may have been the first time the JAM have specifically targeted human beings.”

The major paused. “I feel like running back home,” he said.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you complain about anything,” Rei replied.

“There’s no place we can run to. All we can do is rise and accept the challenge, like you said, Rei.”

The skies had suddenly grown quiet. Yukikaze’s fuel had probably run out, Rei figured. This was confirmed a moment later when she silently swooped down, now visible to his naked eye. She executed a wide turn and then got on approach for a glide-in landing.

Yukikaze touched down safely onto the ground. As though that was a signal, the strength left Gallé Murullé’s hand.

“Jack, did you hold this meeting because you figured the JAM might come and wanted to find out if somebody was leaking the information?”

Major Booker didn’t reply.

“Well, Major Booker?”

“And what if I did, Rei?”

“Because Murullé lost his life because of it. It should have been me. It should have been…”

“Tough luck. He had a bad break.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Rei, we aren’t the only ones here who risk our lives,” Major Booker said. “He was a soldier too. He was one of us. Do you think I don’t feel anything for him?”

Rei couldn’t think of an answer to that. He tightly held the dead chef’s hand as an SAF spotting dolly moved in to tow Yukikaze. As the dolly approached, Yukikaze flashed her landing lights three times.

“The mission accomplished sign,” Major Booker muttered to himself. “The one Llanfabon used to confirm that they understood what I was saying. Holy shit…Yukikaze’s conscious of us. Of you.”

Yeah, she probably was. But she didn’t mourn Murullé’s death. Not at all. And she wouldn’t. Yukikaze was different from him.

“I am…” Rei said. “I am…human.”

“And never forget that,” Major Booker replied quietly. “Don’t let Galleé Murullé’s death be in vain, Rei. Human lives can’t be replaced once they’re lost.”