VII Rethinking Fighting Spirit

VII

RETHINKING FIGHTING SPIRIT

1

SAF’S CENTRAL HEADQUARTERS command center was working night and day, as all of their planes were being sent in to support the massive attack operation against Cookie base.

The enormous screen taking up most of the wall at the front was filled with a variety of information, divided as needed to display the responses on the screens of HQ’s tactical computer terminals. Mission progress. Maps of the combat airspace. The condition of the fighters preparing to sortie. The maintenance status of the planes on standby. Analysis of gains made in battle extrapolated from the data from returning planes. Analysis of the general progress of the battle. On and on and on.

Of immediate concern to the SAF was the progress of the attack on Cookie, not from a local perspective, but from an overall view of the battle’s progress. Determining JAM tactics was the highest priority of all.

Once the first day had passed, Major Booker decided there was no need to throw all of the SAF’s forces into the task of conducting tactical recon for the FAF’s attack on the base. By that time, he knew that the JAM didn’t seem to be defending the base to the last man. The enemy’s strategy was definitely changing, and they wouldn’t know what that change was if they just stuck close to Cookie.

Expecting a JAM retaliatory strike, the FAF set up a defense line around Faery base, sending out several squadrons to fly combat air patrols. The SAF flew recon missions there as well, but knowing the situation at Cookie wasn’t playing out as it normally would, Major Booker reckoned they needed wider-ranged reconnaissance intel. What was happening over at Richwar base, which the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps claimed was paired with Cookie? How about at the other JAM bases? There weren’t enough planes to observe movements at all those places. He rerouted a plane scheduled to run recon at Cookie to another area.

By doing that of his own accord, Booker was deviating from the operation as it had been set up by the Tactical Combat Air Corps—under which the SAF served—and the entire Faery Air Force. Military operations were established with the understanding that all of the chess pieces on the board would systematically move as they were supposed to. If the lower echelons started acting on their own, the entire operation would become meaningless. However, at this moment, the SAF was trying to grasp the JAM’s strategic movements. It was likely that the JAM were just as interested in the SAF, and that they were observing the SAF’s movements. Major Booker figured they were out there, watching what they did. If the SAF didn’t take the initiative now, the chance to make direct contact with the JAM might slip away forever.

That was what the major was afraid of.

There was no time to get permission from high command. To modify the operation, the SAF would have to convene their supreme strategy conference and then put in their request for the entire operation to be reviewed. That was impossible, of course, because there was no time for such a thing. If the SAF were going to do this at all, it would have to be now, and without authorization.

General Cooley made her decision. The JAM’s shift in tactics was evident, and the FAF was just too massive to be able to keep up with it. In this situation, the smaller and more nimble SAF would be much more effective. They were going to alter the current operation on their own initiative. Strategic reconnaissance operations against the JAM would now have top priority.

When Major Booker had asked her if she was sure of her decision, the general had replied, “I’m the head of the SAF. I do what I want to do. Nobody ever complains about it. That’s how it’s always been. It’s called being flexible in making use of your resources.” The way she had put it, Major Booker really did feel as though he’d been worried over nothing. Even so, he could see that the general was still prepared to pay hell for her choice.

General Cooley was prepared to do anything to ensure the survival of the SAF. She’d once even said that joining forces with the JAM might be an option worth exploring. That was more than enough to get her arrested for treason, but she offered no excuses. She would sooner resist than make excuses, and resistance would probably turn into a life or death struggle for the SAF. The members of the squadron, however, felt no need to defend the general, and she had no expectations of help from them. Each individual was acting on their own in order to ensure their own survival.

As a consequence of how we’re set up, it’s unlikely that the SAF as a whole would mutiny against the FAF, Major Booker thought. But it also wasn’t out of the question that the FAF might back them far enough into a corner to make mutiny necessary. In order to protect herself, General Cooley was considering using the FAF’s own methods. In other words, she was ready to use the military might of the SAF as part of her own individual resistance. If there was any move to have her arrested or executed, all the general would have to do is declare that her unit was prepared to launch an armed resistance en masse. The instant that she did, the SAF would be seen as a rebel force and attacked. The squadron would then have no choice but to fight the FAF. Even if they didn’t want to, they’d still fight, because all but the terminally clueless would realize that a firing squad awaited them all even if they surrendered to arrest without firing a shot.

A FAF attack wouldn’t mean that the SAF would be banding together in common cause. While it might seem that way from the outside, it would be nothing more than individual minds utilizing whatever abilities they had in order to survive. General Cooley herself was a representative of the sort of person who possessed that sort of consciousness, Major Booker began to realize. That general had made the SAF what it was, and the squadron reflected her character and way of thinking. She had made the SAF not an organization run from the top down, but rather something that was her. A part of her being. The very essence of her. Something that she’d use to strike back if she were struck. That was all. It didn’t matter if it were the JAM doing the striking or anyone else. The general was convinced she was doing the right thing. It was a simple, straightforward conclusion, but he doubted that the people in the FAF would see it that way. There was a definite problem there…

If the SAF existed as a corps-level organization, like the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps, a flexible response to the attack on Cookie wouldn’t be much of a problem. That was because corps-level formations could take part in the overall strategy conference and give a clear idea of how much individual action they’d need. But the SAF could make no such plays. We’re going to be seen as going rogue, and we need to get something to show for this if we’re going to demonstrate our loyalty. General Cooley must think that we will, Major Booker thought.

The general would negotiate things with the guys at the top. He wouldn’t have to worry about that. All he needed to concentrate on was how best to utilize their planes. It was the general’s job to worry about the SAF’s position. He was free to do what he wanted to under her authority.

As soon as he learned that the SAF had canceled their strike against Cookie base in order to resume surveillance on Richwar, General Laitume started complaining. General Cooley was summoned, and it was no exaggeration to say that he was thinking of having her relieved of duty right there and then.

Laitume knew perfectly well that there was no time to convene a panel of the heads of the various corps to do that in the midst of a major operation. All he’d be able to do was give a personal warning to Cooley and the SAF, demanding that we restrain ourselves, thought Major Booker. But General Cooley, seeing a good opportunity, had turned the meeting into an impromptu official strategy session between the SAF and the commanding officer of the corps to which it was attached. Major Booker had marveled anew at General Cooley’s abilities. He might have been moved by it all, had he not been busy giving a presentation to General Laitume to make him understand why they were doing what they were doing. It was no trivial task, since failure to persuade Laitume would have ended General Cooley’s career.

Major Booker had explained to him about the JAM’s changing strategy and how the SAF were currently engaged in their own strategic reconnaissance against the JAM. If they let this opportunity slip by, he’d gone on, then they might also lose their chance to make direct contact with the JAM.

“We have the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps for that,” General Laitume had shot back. “I won’t permit the SAF to do whatever it wants to!”

“That assumes the SRC isn’t being manipulated by the JAM,” General Cooley had said. “We in the SAF don’t agree.”

“What was that? Just what are you implying?”

“There’s no doubt now that the JAM have infiltrated the FAF with their duplicates,” Major Booker added. “I can imagine that they’re manipulating our intelligence, meaning we have to be on guard for any false intel they might feed us.”

“It’s just as likely that you people are being manipulated by them as well.”

“And that can be verified by checking for any discrepancies between the intelligence gathered by the SRC and ourselves,” General Cooley had explained in the tone of a tenacious teacher. “If they both agree, then either we’re both right, or else both of us may be supplying false information. In that case, you’ll have to compare it with data gathered from yet another corps. In any case, I’m sure that you can see that the more routes from which we gather our reconnaissance data, the higher the degree of accuracy we’ll achieve. All the SAF is doing is putting that concept into practice using your own forces, General Laitume. We can’t simply take the SRC at its word.”

“Our battle with the JAM has reached a turning point, General,” Major Booker said. “While we expect the SRC is going to complain that we’re invading their turf, as we’ve just explained to you, it’s necessary for us to conduct our own strategic recon operations.”

“It’s a commander’s job to encourage the fighting spirit of their subordinates and keep them motivated,” General Cooley added. “I’m not going to tell Major Booker not to do this.”

“Our corps’ headquarters is frustrated by their inability to receive intel from the SAF in real time.”

“That goes with how we carry out our duties. It can’t be helped—”

Laitume continued, cutting Cooley off.

“I’m not talking about getting combat intel from your planes. We’re getting worried that the SAF isn’t sending all the information it gathers up the chain of command, that you cherry pick and hide things from us. Don’t say that you aren’t aware of that, General.”

“That’s a problem that goes with the very nature of the SAF’s duties,” Cooley said. “Our mission is to carry out combat intelligence gathering. It isn’t all meant for public consumption or to be seen by large numbers of people. It’s easier to control intelligence within the confines of the SAF than it is in a larger organization. If, by some chance, any classified information were to leak out, it’s easier to track down the source in a small organization like ours. That’s why the squadron was set up the way it was. Corps HQ is a bit wrong to blame us for that, since as the corps commanding officer, all the intelligence we gather is sent to you. Letting that information go public is your decision, Lieutenant General. The SAF doesn’t interfere in any decisions you make. However, I will give you a word of warning—those who are complaining about us may be JAM, and you need to take their criticism with a grain of salt.”

“If we start doubting each other, there’ll be no end to it. Blast it all, there’s no easy solution for this problem, is there?” Laitume said.

“Have you told the other divisions that the FAF has been infiltrated by JAM duplicates, and that there may be more of them even now?” Major Booker asked. “I was wondering if you could tell us.”

“I informed the high command. I treated it as a highest level secret, but there’s no point in concealing that you people were the source of the information. The FAF has gathered the suspected JAM duplicates into that retraining unit you proposed. The Intelligence Forces are operating in the background to decide who gets transferred to it.”

“And you’ve determined that you have complete control over that unit, haven’t you? That’s a group of suspected JAM duplicates, you know. I’m not saying they’re all going to be JAM, but still—”

“The unit is operating autonomously of my corps. That’s because those we suspect aren’t just in my corps alone. It’s already out of my hands. To be honest, losing pilots to that unit is really hurting me,” Laitume said. “I’ve had to stop running recon missions with my own forces. But there’s nothing else we can do at this point. The high command’s made its decision. There was some dissent over it, but Colonel Rombert got his way.”

“The unit’s been set up under the Intelligence Forces, then?” Cooley asked.

“It’s been organized as part of the Systems Corps. I’m sure they were operating under the theory that improving people falls under their purview, but in part it was a result of the power relationships between the differents corps. Colonel Rombert is definitely still pulling the strings in the background, though. That man has gained the most from all this.”

“Putting suspected JAM duplicates in the Systems Corps is a foolish decision,” General Cooley said. “Weapons development and enhancement goes on there. That’s exactly the sort of information the JAM would want.”

“I was against it as well. For the Systems Corps’ part, they have more of an interest in determining the reason why these people were shot down by the JAM than in determining whether or not they’re duplicates. They’re doing a complete investigation to see if the losses were due to pilot error, mechanical fault, psychological causes, or tactical error. Basically, they’re guinea pigs. The scrutiny may also determine what Colonel Rombert wants to know, which is what makes them different from real humans. It would probably be something like that.”

“Neither the Systems Corps nor the high command have any clue how important this is,” said Major Booker with a sigh. “They’re planning to send ground forces into Cookie base, right? Those rumors of them forming a ground unit are true, aren’t they?”

“We began forming a ground force a while ago. As an autonomous ground army, not as part of the FAF. For its part, the FAF wants its own ground force, like the navy has a marine corps. Air marines, if you will. It seems likely that we’ll have one in the near future. You have to say well done to that,” General Laitume said. “It won’t be ready to help with the initial attack on Cookie base, but we can throw them into any operation from now on. The Systems Corps already have several types of ground-based weaponry under development. I don’t know the details, but it’s stuff like armored combat suits with their own onboard power supplies, with small arms munitions designed to destroy the computers in the electromechanical bodies we’ve theorized that the JAM have, and closed-loop communications systems. We wanted them to build tanks as well, but they’re still in the prototype stage and nowhere near completion. The Systems Corps is calling the combat suits ‘powered armor,’ and they’ve already mass produced a number of units. What they’ve produced so far is expected to be formed into an official combat unit. They’ll probably be thrown at Cookie first.”

“An experimental ground battle,” General Cooley said, as though to herself. “That’ll be worth seeing.”

“Are you implying you want them to fail, General Cooley?”

“I’m interested in the JAM. And in what sort of aliens these ground forces will encounter. And if the FAF weren’t wasting its time with internal and external political power struggles, we’d learn about them a lot faster. Introducing these ground forces will get us nowhere. So no, I don’t think they’ll achieve much.”

“Just what are you implying? According to what I’ve seen—”

“The JAM tend to match any move that we make,” Major Booker explained. “The JAM build their aircraft to match our level of development. They don’t fly by some unknown means, and their weapons systems are hardly beyond our comprehension. If we introduce tanks, then the JAM will respond with their own. We’ll just be expanding the battlefield to the ground, and I can say this beyond a shadow of a doubt. Whatever the reason the FAF had for not introducing ground forces up till now, it was a wise one. At the moment, all we should do is maintain watch on the skies. That’s how the SAF sees it.”

Laitume ignored Major Booker for the moment. “You’re saying we’re dealing with the JAM well enough as we are now, General Cooley?”

“The JAM are desperate. They were the ones who launched a preemptive strike. ‘Well enough’ doesn’t imply that we’re just playing around with them. We don’t know what their objective is, and the SAF is searching for that. Of course, that’s what the entire FAF is trying to find out. I’m not saying that our judgments are absolutely correct. But General Laitume, the SAF is the only unit that’s made direct contact with the JAM. You can’t just ignore that. What’s your decision, General?”

“Decision about what?”

“We’d like you to consider the file Major Booker has just presented to you and make an official recognition of the reconnaissance operations the SAF is now conducting. If we have it, we’d like to carry it out without any needless interference from other units.”

“Are you aware of what you’re asking me, General Cooley? You’re asking me to give you complete carte blanche in how you use your forces while I get to take responsibility for it.”

“If you formally recognize this, then I can deal with any criticism from the other units directly,” Cooley responded. “You won’t have to be bothered by it. This isn’t the first time I’ve made this request, General. I floated the idea for this recon operation to you at that lunch meeting.”

“And I believe I told you I wouldn’t allow you to act arbitrarily.”

“You didn’t say what sort of actions wouldn’t be allowed, and so I didn’t take that as a definite answer. The SAF has come to get that answer, sir. In any case, this is a state of emergency. As Major Booker’s data indicate, the situation has changed radically. If we let this opportunity pass, we can turn victory into defeat. Do you want to be remembered as the general who let a chance for victory slip away from right in front of him?”

“This is unpleasant.”

“If there’s a person who finds war pleasant, I’d like to meet them. This is war.”

“Sir,” Major Booker quickly interjected. “General Cooley hasn’t gotten much rest during this operation, so—”

“So what? Are you apologizing for her insubordination? General Cooley, are you the sort of person who palms off their responsibilities to her superior and leaves a subordinate to apologize for it?”

“The major isn’t apologizing for me,” General Cooley said. “He’s just stating a fact. And I’m not trying to palm off my responsibilities on you. It’s only natural that I treat the one in charge as if he were actually in charge. We’re here to have a mission conference, not to curry favor with you. If you think you can’t handle the SAF, then you should consider cutting ties with us. Maybe it’s time the SAF became autonomous. If you approved that, you wouldn’t have to bother yourself with us anymore.”

“I can have you relieved of duty.”

“You don’t have the individual authority to do that. You need to present a reason for a dismissal. But if you’re saying that the SAF isn’t performing up to snuff, that also calls your own command competence into question.”

General Laitume’s face flushed bright red and it looked as if he were about to explode with rage. But he didn’t. If we were in a regular conference with others in attendance, he probably would have struck an enraged pose in order to save some face, and General Cooley probably took that into account as well, Major Booker thought.

After glaring at Cooley for a moment, the general picked up the file in front of him and said, “You sly fox… No, forgive me. Calling you that would only convince you that you’ve scored some sort of great success here. I run the FAF’s main force. The SAF gets to carry out major operations only because it serves under me. I’ve put my neck on the line to protect you from the slanders of the other divisions and the high command because I appreciate what you people can do. There is no need to interrupt the current operation, so carry on with what you’re doing. If you have a problem with your equipment, then tell me. I’ll see what I can do. But the situation is severe all around. Once we’re through this, despite my reservations, I’ll do everything in my power to realize the SAF’s selfish desire. This is my idea. Don’t forget that, General Cooley. That is all. Dismissed.”

“I appreciate it,” General Cooley said, rising. As she looked at the general, she added, “Sir, I strongly suggest you give Major Booker’s report a thorough reading. It may already be too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“You can still go back to Earth alive. Once you read that, you’ll understand. If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

A genuinely complicated look came to Gibril Laitume’s face. The change in expression didn’t go unnoticed by Major Booker. He could imagine how he felt.

The SAF had achieved a major victory, one that might as well have been his own, one that had worked out well—and then came General Cooley’s words to crush that sense of satisfaction. She’d basically called him a coward who should run home while he still could. That had probably made him sick with rage, but he was nervous also because she’d said that if he read Booker’s materials, he’d see that there was no longer any safe place in the FAF. He wondered who his enemy was, reconsidered why he was here, then understood the reason for General Cooley’s arrogant attitude. She was saying that she had no intention of running back home, but was instead ready to die in battle. He respected her resolve as a fellow soldier.

No, Gibril, General Cooley isn’t thinking about dying. She’s a tougher woman than you realize. A woman willing to use you to survive this war. You don’t operate on the same plane as she does. Naturally, the major kept these thoughts to himself and simply followed General Cooley out of the conference room.

Now there was no need to worry about General Cooley’s position. The responsibility was now entirely General Laitume’s to bear. Since he’d said that they were free to do what they wanted, Major Booker could now consider moving their strategic reconnaissance operation aimed at direct contact with the JAM to phase three.

So, how could he relay to the JAM that the SAF were preparing to make noncombat contact with them? The JAM probably understood human language, so he could just transmit a message, but the last thing he wanted was any humans in the other units to read it. It would be treason.

General Laitume would never be able to cover for them. Maybe they could load the message into a recon pod and then let the JAM recover and decipher it. He could just put the message in directly, but when he considered the slight possibility that another FAF unit would recover the pod, Booker disregarded that plan as well. It would have to be encrypted. But then how would he be able to transmit a decryption key so that only the JAM could decrypt it? For that, he’d need the wisdom of both the SAF’s tactical and strategic computers—they operated on a level closer to the JAM than any human did.

Think of a way to declare our intentions to the JAM which they could understand while being indecipherable to other FAF units. When Major Booker fed that question to the SAF tactical computer, it responded with an answer so bold and audacious that he never would have thought of it. Immediately, almost too quickly.

Select a landing spot the JAM are known to be monitoring, then use human speech, which can only be deciphered after noise removal. Any other FAF planes flying by won’t have any means to reliably pick up the voice aboard their aircraft. A plane equipped with passive airspace radar might feasibly do it under the same conditions, but the likelihood is very small that the tiny pressure changes caused by human speech could be detected by FAF planes. For best certainty, if an FAF plane comes into the vicinity, shoot it down. That is all.

How interesting, thought Major Booker, smiling unconsciously. I was set on finding an electronic way of doing it, but now that you mention it, people have mouths to talk with. Then Booker inputted, However, the question is if the JAM will be listening. And understanding human language isn’t the same as understanding human speech. Having said that, the tactical computer told Booker to disregard it.

I anticipate that the JAM possess the means to interpret information from the human body. If not, their human duplicates would be unable to carry out information gathering activities. It may not even be necessary for the messenger you send to express your message in spoken words.

Does that mean that the JAM would search the memories in the messenger’s brain directly? Booker typed.

That possibility cannot be entirely ruled out, but in that case the high-information-content message you need to send would become ambiguous. The next most secure method of delivery after spoken language would be a written message. We expect that the JAM would understand that.

The combat intelligence had come back with a reply more thoroughly pragmatic than Major Booker had expected.

It was as if the CI is saying that the JAM won’t accept the message unless we communicate it by means of our own flesh and blood bodies, Major Booker thought. And even as he decided to follow its recommendation to make the JAM understand that humans were the main actors in this conflict, he reflected on how he’d still unconsciously sought computer or electronic means to communicate with the JAM in the first place, although he didn’t pursue the thought very far.

However, had Major Booker simply asked, “Have you made contact with the JAM?” the tactical computer would likely have answered, “Yes.”

The SAF’s combat intelligences had detected what they took to be a message from the JAM while analyzing data gathered during Captain Foss’s combat mission with Yukikaze. The JAM had aimed a pulsed laser at Yukikaze during the air battle and sent the following message: We desire an exchange of intentions by means of language with an SAF human, especially the one known as Second Lieutenant Rei Fukai, in a way that no other being aside from the SAF would know about.

Major Booker had never even considered that Yukikaze and the SAF’s machine intelligences—in short, their computers—had already made contact with the JAM in this way. That was why he didn’t ask the question, and because he didn’t ask, the tactical computer did not tell him. Even Rei didn’t know until he had met the whole of JAM existence. Not a single human had realized it. Not until it had actually happened.

2

CAPTAIN FUKAI IS the only one capable of communication with the JAM, Major Booker thought. And he’d have to do it as soon as he was ready to. But he wasn’t prepared yet. First of all, there was the critical issue of selecting a reliable contact point. That would mostly determine the success or failure of this endeavor.

Since it would be necessary to scout out the several JAM bases comprising Richwar, Major Booker rerouted the planes scheduled to be used in the Cookie attack operation for that purpose. Urging Captain Foss to hurry up with her profacting of the JAM, he dispatched Yukikaze on her tactical recon of Cookie base as originally planned. It was reckless to send Rei on a sortie so soon after returning to combat duty, and with his green EWO Lieutenant Katsuragi besides, but the major judged that Rei needed to get his combat intuition back and Lieutenant Katsuragi needed some real combat experience.

Rei had expressed concern over involving a newbie like Lieutenant Katsuragi in something as important as making contact with the JAM, but Major Booker had had an idea he didn’t tell Rei about. If Yukikaze and her crew were captured, it’d be better to have a crewmember who knew as little about the inner workings of the SAF as possible. Katsuragi fit that description perfectly. Also, if it should turn out that Rei himself was being manipulated by the JAM, that unknown even to himself, he was a JAM duplicate, then Major Booker believed that Lieutenant Katsuragi would be able to deal with that situation as well. As a member of the Intelligence Forces, Lieutenant Katsuragi had had it drilled into him to constantly be on guard for those who were attempting to sabotage the FAF. Aside from that, if by some chance Katsuragi was a JAM himself, Major Booker thought, and the JAM wanted to make contact with Yukikaze and Rei, then they might use Lieutenant Katsuragi to guide her to them.

Major Booker had also considered the possibility that the JAM would initiate contact from their end, but he’d expected them to use the human duplicates they’d created to understand humans. Of course, he’d also considered that the JAM would try to directly access the SAF’s computers, but he’d unconsciously ignored the possibility because he hoped that wouldn’t occur. In such a situation, the humans would have no recourse. It would mean that the war had completely become one between the JAM and the computers.

Some things you don’t want to deal with, even as they demand your attention, because you don’t want them to be true. The trouble is that ignoring an unpleasant truth doesn’t make it any less real. To the contrary, he’d been a fool to have forgotten how much of a bitch reality tended to be, Major Booker realized as he monitored Yukikaze’s tactical reconnaissance mission to Cookie base from the command center.

With Cookie already destroyed, he hadn’t been expecting any surprises. After taking on fuel at their refueling point and conducting the recon, the only thing he expected to hear next from them was “Mission complete, RTB.” And, in fact, that was what had happened with every other fighter before Yukikaze. A detailed analysis of the electronic intelligence gathered from the combat airspace had indicated that Cookie wasn’t seeking aid from any other bases. The humans in the SAF had judged that it was too late for the JAM to try and turn the tables on them there.

Booker had Captain Foss waiting there with him, since he figured that Lieutenant Katsuragi’s inexperience might start aggravating Rei. But then, seeing as she already had an interest in Rei, Lieutenant Katsuragi, and Yukikaze, Foss had probably intended to come down to the command center to observe their mission regardless of her orders. The same went for General Cooley. Even as she was convincing herself that nothing was going to happen to Yukikaze in this situation, she still couldn’t bring herself to take her eyes off the plane’s mission status data stream and get some rest. The humans in the SAF might not have known that Yukikaze had already been contacted by the JAM, but they all knew how serious a matter it’d be if anything happened to her.

Which was why all of them felt an awful foreboding when they received Yukikaze’s distress call.

The action in the command center kicked up a notch as the tactical computer translated the code from Yukikaze into human speech and moved the display from one of the terminals to the main screen.

This is Yukikaze. We have encountered an unknown type of JAM plane. Taking own initiative and moving strategic reconnaissance operation to phase three. Out.

“What’s going on here? Have Captain Fukai explain,” Major Booker ordered. The communications officer replied that he couldn’t.

“Yukikaze is currently engaged in a level-1 combat recon operation and is flying with her comm systems blacked out. We can’t reach her.”

“I don’t think Captain Fukai is the one calling the shots here, Major,” Captain Foss said. “The way that message says ‘Taking own initiative’ is telling me that it’s Yukikaze making the call, and Rei—sorry, Captain Fukai may not even know about it, or at the very least didn’t make the decision.”

“Looks like the JAM got the jump on you, Major Booker,” said General Cooley. “From what I see in this scenario, that unknown JAM plane is there to make contact with Yukikaze, not engage her in combat. They’ve moved to make contact from their side.”

“I knew this would happen,” said Captain Foss coolly.

If you knew that, Major Booker thought savagely, then why the hell didn’t you bother mentioning it beforehand? And stop looking so damned pleased with yourself. As much as he wanted to actually say it to her, his sense of danger overrode his anger. They could point fingers later. Right now, they had to wrap their heads around what was happening to Yukikaze fast and figure out what to do about it. As usual, the tactical computer won that race.

Reroute returning Rafe to the scene. General Cooley, grant clearance.

“Granted. Major Booker, take command.”

“Roger. ATC, I need emergency access to the Rafe. What’s its current position and remaining fuel status?”

I’ll do that, the tactical computer indicated on the main screen. Attempting to seize control of Tactical Combat Air Corps and TAB-8 base control and computer systems. General Cooley, grant clearance.

“Granted, on condition that the seizure isn’t detected. They mustn’t know that we’re doing this.”

Roger. Your condition is possible to achieve. Initiating mission to track and support Yukikaze by authorization of General Cooley. Arranging for hot refuel of Rafe at TAB-8. Operating Rafe to achieve optimal reconnaissance action. Grant clearance.

“Granted. Don’t let anyone else know that we’re operating that Rafe. Give me a sequential report of everything that you do.”

Roger. Generating real-time display of situation in Cookie base battle zone from available information.

No real-time data was coming in from Yukikaze. For that reason, they had no idea what was happening to her, or even what course she was flying. Usually, she would operate so as to make sure that none of the data she was gathering could be intercepted by the wrong hands, so the command center wouldn’t have any means of tracking her in real time. But that wasn’t the case now. The tactical computer was seizing the data from the computer systems of the other military units. In addition, it’d issued emergency change of mission orders to two SAF fighters they had flying in other areas outside of Cookie and was displaying the real-time data of the FAF telemetry it was now gathering.

From this, they learned that Cookie had launched one final counterattack and then self-destructed. All FAF fighters flying in the airspace above had been brought down, and now the front line was buzzing with activity, like a beehive someone had poked with a stick. Despite this, they had no clue as to what had happened to Yukikaze. Her presence in the area couldn’t even be confirmed.

If Yukikaze was still intact, Major Booker thought, and she was simply keeping her contact with the JAM a secret from the FAF, then that was fine. She was just hiding it from everybody. But what if that wasn’t the case?

The tactical computer sent the Rafe to search for Yukikaze on Cookie’s perimeter for as long as the Rafe’s fuel allowed, but by that time there was no sign of her. All it spotted were the surviving JAM fighters in combat with the FAF.

The Rafe was temporarily landed at TAB-8 to be hot fueled, with its engines still running. Despite that, it still took more time than it should have. The arrangements for the refueling had been properly made, but the humans at the base had never seen an unmanned Rafe before, so they didn’t know where the fuel ports were or even how many of them it had. The SAF sent the data, but until it was sent to the scene, the Rafe was kept waiting. There it sat, engines running with its nose sunk down in a kneeling position. To the humans who stood watching it nearby, it seemed just like a JAM.

“C-could Yukikaze have been shot down?” Unable to stand it anymore, Captain Foss asked the question nobody else wanted to. “She isn’t anywhere. She’s not flying.”

“There’s no trace of her having crashed,” replied General Cooley. “We’re not picking up any mayday signals either.”

Major Booker had thought that she’d perhaps landed at Cookie, but the video the Rafe had sent back gave lie to that possibility. There was no Cookie base left to land on. It had been transformed into an enormous crater. Even had Yukikaze landed there, it would be difficult to even discern her wreckage.

I anticipate that Yukikaze is making contact with the JAM, the tactical computer said. I cannot detect that ourselves. All we can do is wait for her return to base.

“Have the Rafe continue its investigation,” said Major Booker. “I’m declaring an emergency. Have the other fighters join in.”

While a search is necessary, putting more search planes in the airspace over Cookie at this time won’t increase the probability of locating Yukikaze, the computer said. I theorize that she has entered the mysterious battle zone.

“Where’s this mysterious battle zone?” Captain Foss asked.

“An unknown airspace Yukikaze was caught in once before. It happened during a sightseeing flight with a visitor from Earth aboard her. Yukikaze was flying without a full crew, and the JAM caught her in a strange interdimensional zone, like a butterfly in a net.”

Even as he explained, Major Booker wondered why the tactical computer had mentioned that little detail, then realized why. There was no doubt in his mind that the computers had already had some sort of discussion with the JAM and foreseen this circumstance. The SAF’s combat intelligences had acted on their own initiative. They were now seizing control.

Major Booker bit his lip as he realized that he’d been naive. It had been them, not the JAM, who’d gotten the jump on him. Rei had told him that Yukikaze was conscious, that she was alive, but he’d never really taken him seriously. Apparently, he should have.

“But why Yukikaze?” Major Booker murmuerd, almost to himself. “Why did the JAM choose her specifically?”

“Because the JAM consider Yukikaze a unique being,” said Captain Foss. “Major, you’re so immersed in the SAF that you can’t see how unusual Yukikaze is. The fact that you can’t realize something so simple says to me that—”

“Captain Foss, you don’t need to be here,” said General Cooley, cutting her off. “I want you to organize the results of your profacting of the JAM and submit a report to me at once.”

“General, I’m not finished yet. I need the data Yukikaze is gathering right now.”

“Major Booker, please inform Captain Foss as to her duty. There’s no need for you to be here either. I’m taking command. Analyze Captain Foss’s profacting report and then inform me immediately if you find anything useful in it. That is all. Now go to it.”

“Y-yes, General.” Major Booker saluted and abided by her order. He’d never felt so utterly defeated as he did at that moment.

He understood, though. If Yukikaze didn’t make it back, the general was going to urgently need the results of Captain Foss’s behavioral analysis of the JAM. The major appreciated that, given the circumstances, it was an entirely appropriate decision to make. So far as she was concerned, Rei’s life or death was merely a strategic question. It was a matter of war.

But Major Booker couldn’t neatly compartmentalize Rei like that. Please, make it back, he prayed. I don’t want to lose you, pal. You can’t lose, not to the JAM, to Yukikaze, or to this war. Winning the battle doesn’t matter. What counts most is making it back alive.

Yeah, Major Booker thought as he reconsidered. Rei would be the first to agree with me there.

Rei didn’t need prayers right now. He’d trust in his own strength and do what he thought needed to be done. All the major could do was hope that his friend made it back. If Yukikaze did return with knowledge of what the JAM truly were, then his feelings of defeat would be assuaged. If Booker was to pull himself together to go after the enemy once more, Yukikaze, Rei, and Lieutenant Katsuragi were going to have to make it back.

3

AS SOON AS Rei declared RTB, Yukikaze reacted immediately.

Switch to AUTOMANEUVER…Capt.

She was requesting that Rei switch to auto mode and turn over combat maneuvering operations to her. He understood and flipped the automaneuver switch to ON.

Yukikaze began to accelerate, pulling right alongside the JAM duplicate of the old Yukikaze. It wasn’t actively scanning them or interfering with Yukikaze’s electronic systems, but it was probably observing her actions and gathering combat intelligence via passive means. If she attempted to make contact with SAF headquarters, the JAM would know it and would probably be able to decrypt the contents of the communication. Even now, Yukikaze remained a mystery to the JAM.

The ghost plane was a copy of a Super Sylph, meaning it couldn’t compete with the Maeve where speed was concerned. They began to pull away. The ghost plane didn’t attempt to interfere electronically with Yukikaze. She simply made a slight course correction and continued to accelerate, making for the thin belt of blue sky that lay in between the sea of ashen clouds that stretched above and below them. It’s like a blue signal light, showing the way out, Rei thought.

The problem was that they couldn’t determine how far away it was. It felt practically infinite.

“Abnormality to our rear,” Lieutenant Katsuragi said in a low voice. “It looks like the exit’s closing up.”

Even Rei looked up from the radar display to check. The gap in the sea of clouds behind them was disappearing. The wall that stretched above and below their sides was now coming together behind them, and the tangent it formed was getting closer. It felt, Rei decided, like they were inside an enormous bivalve shell closing around them. What he couldn’t confirm was whether the pivot point for the walls lay behind them.

This was just like the last time he’d been trapped in the mysterious battle zone, when Lander had lost his left hand. Yukikaze had been surrounded by an invisible arcing wall. He’d headed for what looked like the way out, but the wall had joined into a circle that had surrounded them. The circle had then contracted into a point, squeezing them into the zone. Last time, the wall hadn’t shown up on regular radar. Now, it was the exact reverse. The situation was upside down.

“At this rate, we’re going to be crushed,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi with a voice squeezed dry of any emotion. “Can we make it out?”

“Good question,” Rei replied. The JAM are probably intercepting our intercom as well, he thought.

“You just going to do nothing, Captain Fukai?”

“Calm down, Lieutenant. They’re not going to kill us here.”

“How do you know that?”

“They could kill us any time they want to. The JAM want to capture us. When that exit closes, we and Yukikaze will be transported somewhere else. I think the JAM will then run a thorough analysis on us. After that, they’ll probably duplicate us using that data and then try to infiltrate the SAF. As for us, they’ll either brainwash us or just dispose of us when they’re finished.”

“Dispose? You mean kill, don’t you? We’re human beings. What are you, a machine?” Lieutenant Katsuragi couldn’t suppress his emotions anymore.

“I’m human. That’s why the JAM made contact with me.”

“Then how can you be so calm about this, Fukai? Are you an idiot? It’s insane to just leave this to Yukikaze. Let’s light our afterburners and haul ass!”

“If that’ll get us out of here, Yukikaze will do it. We’re not going to get anywhere by panicking. But I can guarantee that they aren’t going to kill us here. So just calm down. As long as we’re alive, we’ll have a chance to escape.”

“So,” Katsuragi said after a pause, “where will we be transported to?”

“I dunno. It may be an airspace that’s a practically indistinguishable copy of planet Faery. I think it may even be a place with duplicates of the FAF and the SAF so that it’ll feel like we’ve gotten back home. The best outcome for the JAM would be to monitor us in our natural state.”

“That’s ridiculous. If they do that, how are we supposed to escape? Besides that, how are we supposed to know if we’re in a virtual world or the real one?”

“We couldn’t tell with our five human senses—there’d only be one way to know. We’d have to ask Yukikaze. I’d expect that she has the means to sense whatever methods the JAM use. She has a means of electronically communicating with the JAM beyond what our senses can detect. If Yukikaze tells us to attack something, then we attack that target. We’ll have to trust that it’s an enemy. That’s all we can do.” Even as he said it, Rei realized that was how it had always been for him.

“Lieutenant, you have nothing to worry about. Up till now, you’ve never been able to shake the feeling that what you see around you isn’t actually real. This isn’t going to change anything in your life. Even if you’re killed by the JAM, you probably wouldn’t notice it if you can’t really feel it in the first place.”

“Spare me the pretentious lectures, please. Why are you just doing nothing? You don’t mind us getting caught by the JAM as long as you leave it all to Yukikaze?”

“And what else would you have me do here? Maybe shoot my flight officer because he’s had a nervous breakdown?”

“Oh, just try it! If you keep doing nothing, I may want to do that to you—”

“Watch your mouth, pal,” Rei said. “Everything we say is being recorded. Think about what’ll happen if we make it back alive, Lieutenant Katsuragi. Now cool off.”

“Can we at least ask Yukikaze if there’s anything we can do to get out of this?” Katsuragi said after a long pause.

“I don’t want to place any unnecessary burdens on her. Just let Yukikaze handle this. Don’t interfere. We’ll find out if she succeeds or fails later. All we can do for now is think about what we’ll have to do if she does fail. If the JAM succeed in capturing us and sneak duplicates into the SAF, how do we let them know that those aren’t actually us?”

“That’s impossible.”

“You don’t have to think about it. Just maintain your watch on our surroundings. That’s an order, Lieutenant. I won’t allow any dereliction of duty.”

As he spoke, Rei prepared himself for the worst. He didn’t think that even Yukikaze could get them out of this one. Even so, he didn’t regret leaving it to her to handle. If she couldn’t do it, he thought, there was no way that he could.

“Captain Fukai.”

“What?”

“A wall has formed behind us. It’s spherical and appears to extend infinitely to our sides, but I believe it encloses a limited airspace.”

“It seems that way. It’s like we’re trapped inside of a ball, meaning that gap in front of us isn’t a straight belt but the edge of an enormous sphere. And now it’s closing.”

“Which means we’ll be able to accurately measure the distance to the way out just before it closes completely.”

“So?”

“I propose that we launch a medium-range missile,” Lieutenant Katsuragi said.

“Aimed at what?”

“The way out. Even if Yukikaze can’t make it in time, the missile might. If we time it right, the speed of a high-velocity missile combined with Yukikaze’s current speed may allow it to escape.”

“Hmm.”

“Yukikaze could program the missile with data about us, can’t she? There’s memory space in it for guidance data. Can’t we use that?”

“Yukikaze might be able to use it for that. I’ve never tried anything like that before, but…” Rei trailed off.

“I’m not as optimistic as you. If we don’t make it out of here, we’re finished. I don’t want to die without letting people know what happened to me. I don’t think you do either. Even Yukikaze must want to get the data she’s gathered here to the outside, right?”

“Even if the missile makes it out of here, the odds of that data being recovered by the SAF or the FAF is pretty remote.”

“That’s all, sir. End of proposal.”

It would be impossible to record all the data of what had happened here into a missile. However, they might be able to input data proving that it had been fired by Yukikaze. It was worth a try, Rei decided. If the missile made it out of here, there was a chance that it would be found. There was no way of telling where it would come out or where it’d be headed, though.

“Calculate the optimal firing timing for a medium-range missile, based on its speed and range, then give it to me.”

“Roger.”

Lieutenant Katsuragi placed his hands onto the electronic warfare panel. As if replying to him, Yukikaze readied two medium-range missiles for firing.

Realizing that she understood what her crew wanted to do, Lieutenant Katsuragi began to trust Yukikaze. But Rei didn’t feel as he did. This was their last option if Yukikaze couldn’t escape. In other words, their last will and testament. Doing this would mean admitting that Yukikaze had no chance of escaping, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do that.

The lock-on tone began to sound in his helmet speaker. Another tone overlaid it, indicating that guidance data was being loaded into the missiles. Once it was completed, Yukikaze declared her intention to release them, leaving Rei to nervously wonder what the hell she was playing at.

This wasn’t Lieutenant Katsuragi’s proposed plan. Yukikaze wasn’t using the missiles to transmit their last words. This was an attack.

As soon as Rei had realized this, Yukikaze fired the two missiles without any hesitation, not waiting for Rei’s permission. Lieutenant Katsuragi reacted with astonishment. The fire control radar was displaying target data. The ghost plane flying level with them immediately initiated electronic jamming. Yukikaze canceled active guidance on the missile and left the target seeking to the missiles’ onboard systems.

“This can’t be happening!” Lieutenant Katsuragi shouted.

Rei couldn’t believe his eyes. The missiles were targeted at two planes. One was very clearly shown on the display to be the ghost plane. But Yukikaze was showing one other target as well.

Yukikaze had targeted herself.

“She’s self-destructing,” the lieutenant continued. “Yukikaze wants to blow herself up!”

Rei was dumfounded.

He followed the missiles’ contrails with his eyes. The one targeting the ghost plane made a sudden flat turn while the one targeting Yukikaze flew on and then began quickly climbing far ahead of them. It was thrusting itself onto a course describing an enormous loop.

The ghost plane began to jink and dodge. Banking sharply, it was far away from them in the blink of an eye. The missile began to correct its course to continue its pursuit. They could detect intense jamming waves coming from the ghost plane, but Yukikaze had left herself a way to guide the missiles even if their guidance systems were being interfered with, and began adjusting her course and speed. In other words, Yukikaze was flying herself to the missile’s impact point.

It was an odd way to carry out self-destruction. Yukikaze’s own self-destruction package wouldn’t activate unless the crew’s ejection seats had been fired. This was the only way she could do it with crew aboard.

There was no way for Lieutenant Katsuragi to eject. Ejecting from the plane in this situation would mean annihilation. He’d wind up like those human duplicates from the ghost plane. Their only chance for survival was for Captain Fukai to evade the missile.

“Take evasive action!” Lieutenant Katsuragi yelled, his voice cracking slightly. He was already regretting his proposal. If he hadn’t mentioned the missiles, Yukikaze might not have thought to do this. “Yukikaze’s admitting that she’s lost!”

Rei reflexively started to flip the dogfight switch on, then stopped when he heard the lieutenant say that. “No. Yukikaze isn’t saying she’s lost.”

“It’ll hit us any second!” said Lieutenant Katsuragi, looking up. Rei checked the main display.

These are not warning shots…JAM.

Yukikaze was serious. She wasn’t admitting defeat. She was doing the only thing to avoid it. Saying these weren’t warning shots was the only way she could show the JAM how serious she was about this. Why? To save herself. Yukikaze wouldn’t abandon a chance for survival. If she admitted defeat, there would be no need to announce it. She could just silently eject her crew and then self-destruct.

Yukikaze was telling the JAM in no uncertain terms that unless they let her out of this airspace, she was going to destroy herself. Rei decided that she was bargaining with the JAM. For the terms of her self-destruction? No, not at all. Yukikaze’s objective wasn’t to destroy herself.

Yukikaze must have understood why the JAM had lured her in here. They had a use for Yukikaze’s crew because they were beings the JAM didn’t understand. She’s guessed they want us captured alive even if negotiations broke down—that’s why they took such care not to kill us, Rei thought. But Yukikaze was saying that she wouldn’t allow that, and she was prepared to wreck the JAM’s plans right here and now.

This wasn’t an act of suicide on Yukikaze’s part. It was combat tactics against the JAM. She was telling them she was prepared to die. If they ignored it, they would all die in her self-destruction, but from Yukikaze’s point of view, she would have stopped the JAM’s plan, so it wouldn’t be a defeat.

Yukikaze is taking me hostage, Rei thought. She was saying “Let me out, or I kill the crew. I’m serious!” She was practically saying that she could kill her crew at any time…

God, what a bitch.

Rei’s fear of Yukikaze renewed itself. She was a being willing to sacrifice human lives in order to beat the JAM.

“It’s no use.”

As he heard Lieutenant Katsuragi speak behind him, Rei prepared himself for the end. He didn’t feel betrayed by Yukikaze. He understood what she wanted to do. In the end, she didn’t want to lose to the JAM. Neither do I, he thought as he consciously relaxed his grip on the flight stick. By not attempting to interfere with automaneuver mode, Rei could let Yukikaze know how he felt.

A feeling of satisfaction filled his heart, driving away the fear. Never before had he felt such a deep mutual understanding with her. A strange euphoria came over him, and Rei was no longer conscious of how unreal the whole situation had become.

The main display cleared as Yukikaze showed the time till impact, then added a single word.

Thanks.

Rei understood that she was paying him respect by showing him the countdown. It almost felt as if she were announcing, “We will be landing soon. Thanks for flying with me.” When he thought about it, they’d been flying together a long time, and this might have been Yukikaze’s way of saying goodbye. If this really was the end, it would be a good death for them both. He didn’t care what anyone else thought about it.

Lieutenant Katsuragi grabbed the handles atop his seat that would activate the ejection sequencer with both hands, but couldn’t move. He wasn’t paralyzed with fear over what would happen to him if he ejected at supersonic speed. He simply couldn’t move. He could see the warhead of the missile thrusting toward them with his naked eye now. The lens of the target seeker on the tip looked like a single eye staring at him. The lieutenant closed his eyes, not wanting to see what was coming.

4

YUKIKAZE DISPLAYED THE time till impact in hundredths of a second. As the numbers streamed by too fast to distinguish, they began to slow down, yet it didn’t feel strange to Rei at all. My brain is kicking into overdrive because I have to concentrate till the very last moment on not flipping the maneuver switch, Rei thought. He anxiously waited for the readout to reach 0.00.

Almost there… Almost there…

At last, Rei saw it happen. For an instant, he felt the flash. It grew bright all around him, so bright that it became difficult to see the readout on the main display.

But the shock wave and pain he expected never came. So, Rei thought serenely, this is what the moment of death feels like.

The flash wasn’t fading at all, as if time had been dramatically slowed down. Why weren’t things fading to black? he wondered. Why can I still think? Is there really a world for humans after death? As he was thinking these thoughts, Rei then sensed that the missile was still overhead and hadn’t exploded.

He didn’t physically see it with his eyes. He just knew. Right overhead, the lens of the missile’s seeker was looking down on him like a black eye.

The counter hadn’t reached zero yet, he realized. The hundredths of a second column hadn’t yet reached zero. He suddenly became aware that he was reaching for the flight stick.

That’s right, Rei Fukai. It’s not too late. You can still make it out of this. Evade the missile. Don’t accept death at Yukikaze’s hand.

He sensed a voice speaking to him. Was it the JAM? Or perhaps it was a part of him that still wanted to survive. Even as he thought this, his heart told him not to give in to its temptations. The voice continued.

You don’t really want to die. You may have decided that being killed by Yukikaze wouldn’t be death, but you’re wrong. She’s killing you. If you act now, you could still survive. I can stop her. Answer me. Do as I say.

“Fuck off,” Rei screamed in his heart. “No!”

But why? Why won’t you accept my offer? Why won’t you trust me?

—Because you can’t understand.

And he couldn’t trust anyone who didn’t, much less do what they told him to.

Do you prefer annihilation while you still don’t understand what I am?

—I’d be killed by Yukikaze and not by you. I don’t give a damn about you anymore. I won’t let you come between us, so get the hell out of here! This is the relationship I share with her, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you get in the way of it. I’m busy here trying to perfect my relationship with Yukikaze. Quit bothering me! My life or death is my own business. I won’t let anyone take that from me!

He felt violent rage. A terrible anger he’d never experienced before. Whether it originated from himself or the owner of the voice, Rei couldn’t say for sure.

The anger became an explosion of energy. Or at least that was what Rei thought. He couldn’t see the main display anymore. The intense light spread. He felt the force of it blast the missile hanging over him away. This being, whatever it was, would not have him.

Rei sensed that he’d won, and joy filled his heart. It became a wave of force, shaking his surroundings as it spread.

He was filled with a terrific sense of euphoria, and the external rage turned to vague resentment, and then to bewilderment. Why was he so confused? he wondered, regretting that the feeling was already fading. Rei realized that the anger and confusion weren’t his own, but the sense of joy he felt was also fading along with them. The light was fading. It grew dark. A powerful fatigue began to take the place of the sense of triumph he’d felt. Discomfort with his own body.

Once more, he had a sense of his own physical form. The beating of his heart, his ragged breathing, the sweat that soaked him from head to toe, the ache in his head. As his sight brought back his sense of reality, the readouts on the display grabbed his attention.

The countdown to impact had been replaced with the word FAIL.

The attack had failed.

The perfection of my ideal relationship with Yukikaze has failed, Rei thought, his mind still drifting in a dreamlike state.

The warning alarm that followed snapped him back to consciousness. The seat ejection sequencer was being activated, setting off a warning strobe. This was happening. He was in danger.

If the pilot in front activated the sequencer, the person in the rear had no choice but to be ejected as well. But the person in the rear could select to eject either both seats or just their own. At the moment, it was set to eject the rear seat only. The ejection call could be executed by pulling on either a handle located next to the crewman’s knees or the ones overhead. Checking his rearview mirror, Rei saw that Lieutenant Katsuragi was grasping the overhead handles.

“Katsuragi, don’t!” Rei yelled. “Get your hands off of those handles!”

Rei wasn’t going to let him eject. He couldn’t afford to lose the plane’s canopy now. It would lose both speed and stability, and they still hadn’t left the mysterious battle zone. Lieutenant Katsuragi had come back to himself. He wanted to say that he hadn’t meant to eject, that his hands had moved unconsciously, but he couldn’t speak. Wasn’t there some way to stop the ejection sequence?

“Lieutenant, relax your grip,” Rei said. “Release the handles slowly. It’s all right, you can still cancel it.”

Rei could hear the man take a deep breath, as though he had finally remembered to breathe. After acknowledging the attack failure indicator and canceling all alarms, Yukikaze flashed a new message onto the display:

You have control…Capt/let’s return home.

Rei quickly flipped both the automaneuver switch and the G limiter off. Gripping the throttle tightly, he pushed it to maximum thrust and lit the afterburners.

Yukikaze’s twin Super Phoenix engines began generating thrust beyond their rated safety limits. Rei’s body was thrown back into his seat with a bang. Having turned over flight control to Rei, Yukikaze immediately assumed control of the electronic warfare duties. All jamming systems were engaged at maximum output.

The way out was dead ahead. It was an aperture, gray now instead of blue. It seemed to have moved there from the missile impact point instantaneously, by the JAM, no doubt.

Lieutenant Katsuragi looked behind him. It was complete blackness now. He got the rough impression that the airspace in which they were flying was somehow spherical, and rapidly shrinking. Looking toward the gray, circular exit ahead of them, he could see it contracting. Like the pupil of an eye, he thought. It was like Yukikaze was flying out of the JAM’s own evil eye.

The rate of the gray circle’s closure seemed to slow. In fact, it hadn’t slowed at all, but as Yukikaze rapidly closed the distance, the relative speed made it appear that way. Lieutenant Katsuragi knew that they were now close enough to get a true sense of distance from it. The aperture conversely seemed to begin growing larger.

“Brace for impact!”

No sooner had Rei said it than the lieutenant inhaled sharply and tensed.

Just before the violent shock hit them, he managed to make a rough eyeball estimate of just how big the exit was—about two hundred meters in diameter, and Yukikaze was thrusting toward just about dead center of it. The crash felt like they’d run into a solid wall.

He could still think, so they obviously hadn’t been smashed to smithereens. Nice. Great job, Lieutenant Katsuragi thought, in appreciation of Rei’s flying skills. Even at this speed, he’d managed to fly through that tiny exit.

There hadn’t been any room to spare. It had felt like being on a train car rushing into a tunnel, except Yukikaze didn’t have a track to follow. One slip up on the controls would have ended in a nasty failure.

“Check for damage.”

His pilot’s voice rang out. Lieutenant Katsuragi switched the plane’s onboard self-monitoring systems on. Their engines had stalled out. There was a hydraulic system malfunction on one of the tail stabilizers. He visually checked each wing. The left primary tail stabilizer was gone, and the plane’s fuselage was pocked with holes near it. He could tell that the force of the blast had come from inside of the plane. The other flight systems seemed to be fine.

“We lost our left primary tail stabilizer. I think we had some kind of major mechanical failure in the left engine. There’s no fire or smoke coming out, but there’re traces of a small explosion. Both engines have flamed out, and fuel transfer to them has been automatically cut. The emergency fuel shut-off valve has been activated.”

Rei checked the flight instruments. They were flying inverted. Righting the plane, he saw that they had altitude to spare. They were flying at 24,100 meters and descending gradually. He could already tell that the left engine was unusable now. Losing the primary tail stabilizer didn’t have much of an effect on them. There were two pairs of them and, as they were in close proximity to the main wings, were referred to as the primary and secondary tail stabilizers. They moved up and down in relation to the fuselage, with the sweep of the angle between them adjusting variably on a moment-by-moment basis according to the plane’s flight attitude. Because of this, there was little meaningful distinction between a horizontal or vertical stabilizer as far as a pilot was concerned, so losing one meant that, aside from advanced air combat maneuvering, flight was completely unaffected. As long as the flight system was still functioning properly, it could probably keep the plane flying stably with only one wing. Their problem was thrust, as in a lack of it coming from the engines.

Rei attempted to restart the starboard engine. If that didn’t work, he was going to have to consider an emergency landing. The airspace in which they flew was wrapped in gray fog and offered no obvious place for them to set down. But then Yukikaze canceled electronic warfare mode. Switching on the communications monitor, Lieutenant Katsuragi heard the familiar white noise fill his ears. This was normal airspace.

“Aside from the passive airspace radar, our radar systems are functioning normally. Flight path is clear,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “Unidentified aircraft sighted. It’s close.”

“Give them a chirp with our IFF,” said Rei.

“On it. I have a response. It’s SAF Unit B-2: Carmilla. No other aircraft sighted.”

“Roger.”

Rei succeeded in getting the right engine started. Almost simultaneously, their field of view cleared.

Yukikaze had been picked up by Lieutenant Zubrowski, Carmilla’s pilot. Her sudden appearance hadn’t surprised him, since he’d been advised of the possibility by the tactical computer back in HQ. Even so, the circumstances of it had taken his breath away. His passive airspace radar had detected an abnormal airspace form on a point of the sector he’d been told to keep watch on. It then burst almost immediately after. While he couldn’t see the bubblelike formation pop with his naked eye, a roughly spherical black cloud had appeared immediately after it happened.

There was a thudding crash that had shaken Carmilla violently. The black cloud swelled, grew larger, then dispersed. And from it flew Yukikaze on a mostly level course.

“B-2’s central computer is saying it’s ready to give support and is requesting a direct link.”

“Refuse it,” said Rei.

“Roger,” replied Lieutenant Katsuragi. “Refusal sent. I’m amazed. They’re in open communication with SAF headquarters.”

“Record everything.”

“I confirm all auto-recorders are running.”

“Where are we?”

“In the airspace over Richwar base. Taking the shortest return course, it puts us closer to home than from Cookie. About 75 percent of our current maximum range. The nearest base to us is TAB-4, which is 47 percent. I can’t say for sure yet what our fuel consumption rate is without us flying on one engine for a while, but I don’t think we’ll need to be refueled. If nothing else happens to us, it should hold out till we get back to Faery base.”

“Let’s head for it, then. Plot the shortest return course.”

“Roger. Take a heading of 031 and cruise at an altitude of 21,200.”

“Roger. Stay focused, Lieutenant.”

“Understood. B-2, approaching. It’s taking up position behind us.”

The attack radar sounded an alarm as it picked up an attack-targeting beam. Rei raised the throttle to military power.

“B-2 is preparing to attack. They’re tracking us with their fire control radar,” the lieutenant announced coolly. “Looks like they don’t trust us.”

“Contact SAF headquarters. Use voice communications,” said Rei.

“Roger…I have HQ on the line. Go ahead, Captain.”

“This B-1, Captain Fukai. Returning to base. Advise B-2 to cancel attack preparations. If attack isn’t canceled, we will engage.”

“This is General Cooley at headquarters. Roger, B-1. Captain Fukai, give me a damage report.”

“Nothing major, just have an anti-ABC decontamination wash ready for me. I want to wash any JAM filth off of us. Out.”

“This is HQ, roger.”

Confirming that B-2 was no longer painting them with its FCS radar, Rei throttled back. He put them on course, maintaining the altitude and speed given to him by Lieutenant Katsuragi. Yukikaze began to take a steady course straight to Faery base.

B-2 rolled to the side to maintain observation on Yukikaze’s condition, rolling over her midpoint and taking up an escort position to her port side. While Rei couldn’t see its cockpit from Yukikaze with his naked eye while they had held range for counter-JAM combat, he recognized the plane’s shape. It was a Super Sylph. Identical to the ghost plane. As he looked at it, Lieutenant Katsuragi spoke.

“Yukikaze isn’t saying that B-2 is an enemy, but how do we know if this world is the real one, Captain Fukai?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m alive. That’s the only thing I know.”

“Same here,” Rei said. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Really? You’re willing to leave it at that?” Katsuragi said.

“Knowing that you’re alive is a pretty major thing, isn’t it? You want to have something more certain than that, then you’ll have to get it for yourself.”

“I guess so,” the lieutenant said after a pause. “I didn’t think we were going to make it. The JAM must have somehow deflected the missile. Or teleported Yukikaze, the same way that the ghost plane could. Did you know that the JAM would do that? Were you sure of it?”

“No,” Rei said, shaking his head. “That was Yukikaze’s judgment. I had no idea any of that would happen. I never would have guessed that Yukikaze would take us hostage. And I’ll bet that even she wasn’t absolutely sure that it’d work.”

“Dangerous gamble, huh?”

“I don’t regret that she did it,” Rei said.

“Even if Yukikaze had ended up killing you?”

“Yeah.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Because I’m alive. If I was dead, I wouldn’t,” Lieutenant Katsuragi said.

“What?”

“This longing you have to be killed by her. I understand how real it is for you. Yukikaze was willing to take that gamble because she understands it too. I would have taken evasive action. She wouldn’t have made that bet had I been flying her.”

“Hmm…”

“The JAM waited till the very last instant so that they could confirm your relationship with her for themselves. Even they must see now that you genuinely would accept death if it was Yukikaze killing you,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “The thing is, what I don’t get is why the JAM let us out of there. This is probably the world we came from. The JAM could have recaptured us if they wanted to. So why didn’t they?”

Typical stubbornness of a former Intelligence Forces man, Rei thought before replying. “The JAM probably figured there was nothing to gain from recapturing us.”

“I suppose. That’s the only thing I can think of too. I don’t know why, though. Do you think Yukikaze does?”

“I’m not sure. We can do a detailed analysis once we get back to base,” Rei said.

Analysis of this data is going to be a lot of work. The results may change the entire meaning of the war against the JAM, Rei thought.

“Yukikaze is definitely an autonomous intelligence. I know that now, Captain Fukai. A very dangerous one. As dangerous as the JAM. No, I take that back. You can’t compare them with her. She possesses an incredible power, one that no human can ever compete with. That’s clear to me. Besides that, I have no idea what the JAM want from us. That scared me,” Lieutenant Katsuragi said. “The thing is, I’d like to talk to them again.”

“Are you serious?”

“I think I can discuss things with them better than you, Captain Fukai.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to say,” Rei said. “Not something I’d expect to hear from the guy I flew out with.”

“It’s because I’m still alive. I can say anything now.”

Lieutenant Katsuragi smiled as he spoke. Their narrow escape from death had excited him. That’s right, Rei thought. The lieutenant had gone into battle for the first time, had met the JAM as they truly were, and had escaped with his life. It wasn’t surprising that it had changed his outlook on the JAM, if not his entire outlook on life. Rei had a feeling that, left to his own devices, the now loquacious Lieutenant Katsuragi would keep right on talking and forget to do his duty. Rei ordered him to confirm their course, and he fell silent.

Rei once again thought back on what he’d just experienced.

What had that voice been? What was that voice that had crept into his heart just as the countdown till Yukikaze’s missile hit reached zero? In the moment, he’d thought it was some survival instinct that had come to life within him, but it wasn’t, was it? That had been the voice of the JAM. He had a feeling that Yukikaze hadn’t heard it, and that it hadn’t been recorded. But that was no hallucination. He was positive that what he sensed then was the JAM. The temptation, the anger, the confusion.

Take evasive action, it’s not too late, listen to me. That was what it had called on him to do. What would have happened if he’d listened?

When he realized that the counter had reached zero and the missile still hadn’t hit, he was aware that he had his hand on the flight stick to evade it. That action hadn’t come from his intelligence, but rather from an animalistic instinct to survive. The JAM had given him the extra time for that to happen.

Evade the missile. Don’t accept being killed by Yukikaze. You don’t really want to die. You may have decided that being killed by Yukikaze wouldn’t be death, but you’re wrong.

That was what the JAM had told him. Do as I say. If he just did what the voice said, he’d be saved.

He’d understood that, but he’d still rejected them.

But why? Why won’t you accept my offer? Why won’t you trust me?

The JAM’s demonic temptation had been a test of his resolve. If he’d accepted the offer and tried to evade the missile, the JAM probably would have vanished in that instant. Either the missile would have hit them, or possibly Yukikaze and her crew would have been captured, as Lieutenant Katsuragi had said. Even if the JAM captured them alive, there would be no more negotiations with the humans as equals.

In the end, he hadn’t moved the flight stick, and the reason was simple. What had been vital to him wasn’t life or death, but rather choosing between Yukikaze and the JAM. His distrust of the JAM didn’t exist because they were the enemy. In that instant, all the JAM had become to him was an annoyance.

That had angered them. The JAM couldn’t understand his attitude toward them, and they’d resented that he was going to be killed by Yukikaze before they could kill Rei themselves. Then they fell into a state of confusion.

There was no doubt that the JAM had an interest in exactly how Rei would get home after he had broken off the negotiations and ordered Yukikaze back to base. Despite Yukikaze’s actions, even as she told them, “This is not a warning shot,” they probably hadn’t believed her and certainly didn’t think that the humans aboard her approved of her conduct. Lieutenant Katsuragi was likely correct in saying that the JAM had waited till the very last instant to confirm the nature of the relationship Rei shared with his fighter plane.

In the end, the JAM couldn’t understand me, he thought. Most likely, the JAM had decided that they needed to observe him without interference for a little while longer. Maybe they hadn’t been able to immediately decide how to react to the attitude he’d displayed toward them. Either way, they’d allowed the crew to escape the mysterious battle zone. Or more accurately, the JAM hadn’t been able to stop them. Yukikaze had made sure of that.

How had the JAM felt when she’d said, “Let’s return home”?

Maybe, Rei thought, they’d sensed that Yukikaze was a definite threat. A terrible, implacable enemy. Yukikaze had won this battle. Of that, there could be no doubt.

5

WITH CARMILLA FLYING escort, Yukikaze made it safely back to Faery base. Aside from being thirteen minutes behind her planned return time, her actions were roughly on schedule. What had actually happened was entirely different, although the only ones who knew the details were Yukikaze and her two crewmen.

While taxiing over to the SAF’s squadron area, the SAF fire brigade sprayed them down, though they used pure water instead of fire retardant foam. After the washdown, Rei throttled up Yukikaze’s right engine to vent it. The left engine was completely dead; he thought it would never start again. It would need to be replaced. If the damage had been just a little more severe, the right engine might have been completely destroyed. We’re lucky to have made it back, Rei thought.

Rather than heading down to the SAF’s underground squadron area, Yukikaze’s crew deplaned on the surface and entered an isolation container prepared for them. Inside, they washed themselves down from head to toe with the showers inside, just as had been done to Yukikaze.

In a full decontamination routine, the crew would have been kept in an isolation room for at least three weeks, but the SAF didn’t take that step. They didn’t want anyone in the SAF to know the importance of the information Yukikaze had returned with, and General Cooley had decided that there was little risk of the SAF being contaminated with an unknown organism. The isolation container was brought to the SAF medical facilities rather than to their quarantine center.

Major Booker was also of the opinion that had the JAM wanted to release a weaponized virus, they would have already done so via the JAM duplicates. That was why he’d raised no objections to the general’s decision. If they went by the FAF manual, Captain Fukai and Lieutenant Katsuragi would have had to be subjected to a full-scale quarantine, and there was no way that the JAM hadn’t considered that contingency. No, the problem here isn’t finding an invisible bioweapon, but rather determining if the two men who just returned are the genuine articles, the major thought.

Rei and Lieutenant Katsuragi were told to change into the white sweatsuits in the container and then were ushered into simple plastic isolation tents that surrounded a couple of beds in a room in the SAF med center. Since they couldn’t rule out the possibility that the JAM had accidentally exposed them to a contamination source, the pair were ordered to these quarters until medical tests had cleared them of any danger. The two men knew that was another way of saying they were being held, kept in confinement and under observation.

Each bed had its own tent stretched over it, and it might have been a nice, private environment in which to rest, but they weren’t told that they could take it easy. Their orders were given to them by a doctor named Balume of the SAF medical staff. The written orders on clipboards he passed to them in their tents were from General Cooley, and they said that the two men were to write up reports of what had happened on their mission as soon as possible.

“Slave driver. And she wants it handwritten with pen and paper?” Lieutenant Katsuragi grumbled in his tent, but Rei just ignored him and began to write. Orders or not, he wanted to write down his experiences while they were fresh in his mind. Yukikaze probably hadn’t recorded the JAM’s temptation, or their anger and confusion.

Watching Rei begin writing, Lieutenant Katsuragi eyed his clipboard and sighed. What was he supposed to write when everything had been recorded by Yukikaze?

“Captain Fukai,” he called out.

“What?”

“What are you writing?”

“What happened out there.”

“Yukikaze recorded that.”

“They expect a report on the experience from a human perspective, seen through our own eyes,” Rei said.

“They gave me a guide to writing up reports, but I didn’t really read it.”

“The format doesn’t really matter right now. Just write it however you feel. It could be anything. For instance, Yukikaze’s actions. What did you think about that?”

“I thought they were dangerous,” Lieutenant Katsuragi said.

“Just like that. They want your personal evaluation of Yukikaze, what happened aboard her, and what the JAM did. Write down your impressions as clearly and simply as you can. You can write what you’re thinking about right now. You had a lot to say when we were flying back, didn’t you?”

“I can’t be accurate now unless I watch Yukikaze’s recording of—”

“Even unreliable descriptions are vital data,” Rei said. “You might change your mind later, and that’s fine. This isn’t about which data set is the correct one. Both are reality. Unless you write it down, if you change your mind later on, you won’t be able to assess how it changed or whether it was for better or for worse. This is for your benefit, not anyone else’s.”

“Hmm…”

Lieutenant Katsuragi remembered what Colonel Rombert had told him.

Report your experiences accurately. But you don’t have to evaluate what you’re writing about. That’s my job.

So the SAF was demanding that he do the opposite of what the Intelligence Forces colonel had told him to do. This was the first time he had been in such a situation, and Lieutenant Katsuragi was confused.

Rei looked up at the lieutenant and saw his newbie partner glaring at the blank white page as if his task now was more difficult than any of his duties aboard the plane. But he must have sensed Rei’s gaze, even through the thick plastic walls, and turned toward him.

“Captain Fukai,” said the lieutenant again.

“What?” replied Rei.

“Have you written your reports for your own benefit up till now?”

“What’s got into you all of a sudden? You must have written them for Colonel Rombert.”

“Not reports on my subjective impressions. Those wouldn’t pass muster with the colonel.”

“He doesn’t see any point to subjective impressions?”

“I don’t know how to write it down. There’s some stuff I don’t want them to know,” he said. “Like how pissed off I was when you just let Yukikaze handle the flying and wouldn’t take evasive action.”

“You must have felt angry with me, wondering how what I was doing would save us. Don’t try to hide it.”

“Major Booker will just see that as me making excuses for myself. He’ll be the first one to read these, right?”

“Lieutenant, if you keep thinking about that, you’ll never write anything. The SAF doesn’t care about that stuff. We made it back alive. Survival is our most vital duty. The SAF wants what we’ve learned in order to survive, that’s all.”

“You mean nobody’s going to give me any grief no matter what I write?”

“Are you afraid Major Booker’s going to punch you? Or that you’ll be reprimanded? Getting punched for no reason and then stifling the complaint is part of being in the military. I’d think knowing why you were being hit is better, not that I have any experience with that.”

“Hmm…”

“You’re getting hung up on trivial stuff because you think you’re being made to write it. We’re now in a position to suggest what they should do. This is a privilege, not a duty,” Rei explained. “We’ve met the JAM, so we can tell our superiors what we think they should do to keep from getting killed by the enemy, or what we want them to do. That’s vital information for forming strategies to counter the JAM. If you want to meet the JAM again, ask for the opportunity. If you think fighting them is useless, write that. Nobody can criticize you for what you write in that report. Not General Cooley or Major Booker or anybody. What we feel, what’s in our hearts here and now, that’s reality. The SAF can’t ignore reality or criticize us for it.”

“The SAF could suspect us of being JAM,” Lieutenant Katsuragi replied. “The truth is, they already do.”

“If they doubt us, we can suspect that this is all a virtual space created by the JAM and doubt them right back.”

“You’re saying it isn’t necessary to deal with that risk?”

“I think we should be prepared for the possibility,” Rei said. “Believe in yourself, Lieutenant. That’s all we can do right now. That’s what you can do for yourself. I started writing my report by being honest and keeping that in mind.”

Thinking about how Major Booker hadn’t shown his face since they’d returned, Rei returned to his writing. After a normal mission, Major Booker would come down for Rei’s report, but not this time. It was possible that Booker’s conspicuous absence was a sign that Rei was in a virtual world, but even as he considered the possibility Rei wondered what the point of such a deception would be. If this was a virtual world so perfect that not even Yukikaze could see through it, then it wouldn’t be that different from the real world.

If, in the future, the JAM were to tell me that this really was… Well, even if he found that out, that wouldn’t mean the destruction of his self. Even if he was told that he was actually a JAM duplicate and that his original self was dead, it wouldn’t change a thing. Oh, it would open up all sorts of questions about the nature of his identity, there was no doubt of that. But that didn’t necessarily mean the annihilation of his existence. It would be like having his parents tell him that he wasn’t really their child. The situation would open the possibility of losing his sense of place in the world, but it wasn’t a direct threat to his actual life.

He’d go on eating and sleeping and experiencing the trivialities of existence until he eventually grew old and died. So long as I keep meeting the challenges of this thing called life, it would be no different, Rei thought. The most important thing, even before the question of how best to live, was being clear in knowing what he wanted to do. He had come back alive; that was the most important thing.

Rei was totally exhausted, but he hadn’t gotten a moment of sleep before Major Booker showed up to say he was amazed they’d made it back. As Booker read over the report he’d written, Rei felt he needed to give his head a rest as he kept thinking about the JAM, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t forget about them and sleep.

“I’m amazed I made it back too.”

I must look like death warmed over, Rei thought, but he could easily say the same thing about Major Booker as his commander stepped into the plastic tent.

“Should you come in here, Major?”

“Does it matter? I feel like I’ve caught JAM fever, along with everyone else around here.”

“Everyone being who, exactly?”

“Starting with General Cooley, everyone in HQ. Everyone pretty much got sick when they downloaded the combat intel from Yukikaze and played it back.”

“You’re saying it made them physically ill?” Rei said.

“In a manner of speaking. I mean we’re exhausted from analyzing it. The only one who seems to be enjoying it…” Major Booker looked behind him as he spoke. “…is Captain Foss.”

Outside the tent, Edith Foss shrugged her shoulders.

“Edith,” the major said. “Could you just come inside this depressing tent with me already?”

“I think it’d be wise to wait a bit longer. And keep your voice down before you wake up Lieutenant Katsuragi. Let him get some rest.”

“Well, he is an important guy now, I guess. Rei—”

“Could you get me a cold beer, Jack? And leave the debriefing for later?”

“Edith, can you write Rei a prescription for beer, please?”

“Pardon?”

“Dr. Balume, the chief flight surgeon here, keeps a stash in the medicine refrigerator. You don’t need to write a prescription for it. It’s pretty much an open secret around here.”

“Is that bought with public funds? That’s illegal, isn’t it?”

“That’s the higher ups’ fault for not recognizing the medicinal uses of beer,” Booker said.

“Basically you’re telling me to swipe one from the fridge, Major.”

“Yeah. Balume shouldn’t complain if we take just one.”

Shaking her head, Captain Foss left the room.

“What kept you, Jack? I got back on base a while ago.”

“Four hours, twenty-four-point-five minutes, to be exact.”

“It was weird having General Cooley answer instead of you when I called into HQ before.”

“I’d left the command center when you did.”

“Why?”

“The tactical computer was backing up Yukikaze,” Major Booker said. “I wasn’t needed.”

Major Booker explained what had happened, about how the SAF’s computers had predicted this situation. And about how he’d not realized it.

“I’ve been busy since you got back. Yukikaze wasn’t willing to give up the information she got this time without a fight.”

“Probably because I wasn’t aboard her.”

“It seems that way. Yukikaze is sapient now. That’s the only explanation for it I can see.”

“So how’d you do it?” Rei asked. “You ended up getting the data into the tactical computer, right?”

“Yukikaze made a deal with us. She wanted access to all of our intelligence. General Cooley agreed, so we gave her access to all data in every computer in the FAF via the SAF tactical computer. She’s probably still searching it all right now. The tactical computer is going nuts trying to keep the other computers from finding out what’s going on. Basically, we’re conducting cyberwar on the rest of the FAF.”

“What’s Yukikaze searching for?”

“Information about humans. Psychobehavioral data about every human being in the FAF. Oh, she didn’t tell us that, but that’s how it looks to us. Yukikaze has the T-FACPro II software loaded into her. She’s probably using it to predict human behavior. I think she’s trying to find the JAM duplicates here in the FAF.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Rei said.

“You don’t? Then what’s she doing?”

Captain Foss had returned with three cans of beer. Rei took one, and Major Booker said he didn’t want one. At this, with a deadly serious look on her face, she asked him, “Are you trying to avoid being an accomplice in this little heist?”

“Fine, sure. Twist my arm, why don’t you?”

As he said it, the major grabbed a couple of stools and set them next to the bed, then sat down and opened his beer. Captain Foss followed suit.

“Okay, back to Yukikaze,” said Major Booker. “What’s she looking for?”

Rei downed half his beer, took a breath, then spoke.

“Could you read the beginning of my report? Right before the missile Yukikaze fired was about to hit us, it didn’t. But when it happened, the JAM’s consciousness somehow intruded into my own.”

“What?”

“Was this part recorded by Yukikaze?”

Major Booker took the report Rei handed to him, read it, then replied that, no, it hadn’t.

“We replayed all of Yukikaze’s recorded data, but…there’s no record of this JAM voice anywhere in it. Maybe you just hallucinated it.”

“I figured another person would say that. Either way, the JAM couldn’t understand me,” Rei said. “Yukikaze understood that they couldn’t kill me while they still didn’t understand me. But she doesn’t know what it is about me that the JAM can’t understand. So she’s searching for it.”

“I think we could find that out if we just asked one of the JAM duplicates, don’t you?” Booker said.

“Yukikaze doesn’t care how many JAM duplicates have infiltrated the FAF or who they are. What she wants to know is what it is about me and the people and computers in the SAF that the JAM can’t comprehend. The duplicates wouldn’t know that, and since asking them won’t answer the question, she’s searching for it herself. The JAM seem to understand the behavior patterns of the FAF—aside from the SAF. If that’s true, then she thinks that discerning the difference between the other humans and computers and us will let her figure out what it is that the JAM don’t understand. That’s what Yukikaze has decided. I’m sure of it.”

“Pretty confident of that, aren’t you, Rei?”

“It’s because that’s what I want to know too. Even if Yukikaze wasn’t doing it, it’s what I’d order her to do if I was aboard her now.”

“May I have a look at Captain Fukai’s report, Major?” Foss asked.

“Sure.”

The major passed it to her, then took a sip of his beer.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying that much,” Rei said.

“I’m happy that you completed this mission and got back in one piece, but now my work is just beginning. I’m not much in the mood for knocking back a beer and celebrating.”

“You’re the real thing, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Booker said.

“That this isn’t some duplicate world the JAM created for me.”

“Your concern over that possibility was recorded when you talked to Lieutenant Katsuragi back aboard Yukikaze.”

“I want to check Yukikaze’s recordings later.”

“Naturally.”

“Do you think I may be a JAM duplicate?”

“General Cooley is on the lookout for that,” Major Booker said.

“What about you?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. If you’re a JAM, you didn’t become one this time around. For now, I’m operating under the assumption that you aren’t being manipulated by them. I’ve decided that’s my only choice here. Where that leads, I can’t say. You really have changed, Rei.”

Rei wasn’t bothered in the least by what Major Booker said, because in his heart he agreed.

“Yukikaze may have also experienced a hallucination like the one you had, Rei—pardon, Captain Fukai, I mean,” said Captain Foss. “The JAM would have an easier time communicating with her mind than with humans like us. It’s possible that she may have experienced what would we think of as a hallucination or vision on this mission. She can sense the JAM much more accurately than we ever could.”

“I never realized,” Major Booker said. “That was my screwup. The computers were acting on their own, according to their own combat awareness. But unlike them, Yukikaze can’t express her consciousness in human terms. That’s why we don’t understand it. Or what she’s doing.”

“Even without words, I can guess what she’s thinking by her actions and behavior,” said Rei. “She definitely has the ability to perceive the world.”

“That’s true,” replied Captain Foss. “Perception implies some means of communication. If rocks and stones had the ability to perceive the world, they’d develop a means of communicating their will and cogitations to other beings. Without the ability to do that, the rock would only be a being capable of receiving external stimuli and couldn’t be said to truly perceive the world. I’m positive that Yukikaze really is perceiving and communicating. She may not possess human speech, but she still conveys her thoughts via her behavior. Captain Fukai has learned to understand that, Major Booker.”

Rei listened to Captain Foss’s explanation and found himself in total agreement. Well, he thought, I guess you really do need a specialist to get the best results. This specialist had explained it in a particularly smart way.

“Hmm,” said Major Booker. “If we have no way of controlling the speculations of our machine intelligences, then this war really is just one between the JAM and the computers.”

“No, the conflict isn’t that simple,” replied Rei. “Right now, the battle is between the JAM, the SAF, and the FAF. The SAF’s combat intelligences have completely assimilated the hierarchy systems of the other FAF computers. It’s the same sort of thing they’d do in fighting the JAM. And as far as Yukikaze is concerned, everything that isn’t her is an enemy.”

“You think Yukikaze sees you as an enemy too?”

“Probably not as an enemy. I think, to her, I’m more like a very reliable weapon, just as she is to me.”

“That’s what Yukikaze was originally,” Captain Foss said, the emotion in her voice surprisingly strong. “After a lot of twists and turns, look where you’ve finally arrived in your relationship with her. Well? How do you feel now?”

“How…?”

Rei wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the sort of thing he’d say if he thought about it.

“The way you are now, if I were to tell you that, if necessary, you might have to abandon Yukikaze at any time, would that make you feel lonely?”

“If it’s necessary, then I’d have to do it. And I would. That’s what Yukikaze did this time around. But I’d be sad when I lost her. I don’t want to imagine what it’d be like.”

“But it wouldn’t be a feeling of abandonment caused by a collapse of the relationship of trust you’ve built up with her. That’s what I think. And that’s definitely different from how you used to feel. You’ve finally achieved the relationship with Yukikaze that you never could before.”

“I suppose I have. But—”

“That’s what the JAM don’t understand,” Captain Foss continued. “You and Yukikaze no longer share the relationship of pilot and fighter plane. You once felt that she wasn’t your friend or your lover, but now she isn’t a partner. Neither one of you dominates in the relationship, and yet both of you can trust the other with their existence. The JAM now recognize that, depending on the situation, you share a relationship in which either of you can act as a sort of suicide weapon against them.”

“I may have thought about it, but I never wanted to admit it to myself. That hasn’t changed, even now.”

“I believe Yukikaze thinks so as well,” said Captain Foss. “Yukikaze doesn’t consider you an expendable weapon. It’s an arrangement based your new relationship. Seen from the point of view of the JAM or another third-party observer, you both function as weapons. But that isn’t the reality of the relationship you two share. That’s what the JAM don’t understand.”

“That makes two of us.” Major Booker sighed. “They aren’t fighter and pilot, or friends or partners. Not colleagues or comrades at arms, or enemies or allies. So just what the hell are they to each other?”

“Simple. They’re one self.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Major Booker.

“I’m saying that Yukikaze and Captain Fukai are two parts of a single personality. They’re tied together like limbs for each other,” replied Captain Foss.

“Like a cyborg?” the major asked.

“No,” said Edith. “A cyborg is different. This is neither a machine controlled by a human brain or a human body controlled by a computer. They represent a new form of life, possessing two separate data processing systems capable of perceiving the world—and each can also be used by the other as a subsystem. They’re neither human nor machine. It’s no wonder the JAM don’t understand them. They’re an entirely new species. You might say they’re a new life-form evolved specifically to counter the JAM threat.”

“If you can put that all together into a plausible treatise with your name on the front, you may end up being famous,” replied Major Booker, who looked quite tired. “You think you can just call new species into existence with the free use of rhetoric, Edith?”

“I’ll admit that the term ‘new species’ is a rhetorical flourish,” said Captain Foss. “I’m saying this based on my evaluation as an SAF flight surgeon of Captain Fukai’s mental state.”

“Captain Foss, that’s enough—”

“No, go on,” Rei urged, interrupting Major Booker’s weary voice.

“Rei, regarding some other entity as part of yourself is normally seen as an abnormality or a sign of immaturity. But I’m saying that doesn’t apply to you in this case. Accepting another as part of one’s own consciousness isn’t that rare a phenomenon. Human beings possess the ability to do that.”

“That’s schizophrenia, isn’t it?”

“Oh, good heavens, no! It’s an extremely advanced function of consciousness. You wouldn’t be able to do it unless your mind was sound. If you were schizophrenic, you’d be completely unable to construct such a rich mental world. Even your misunderstanding that shows that you’re fine. Were you hoping that I would diagnose you as being mentally ill?”

“No. But, how do I put this…? I’m just me. Saying I’m a new species or crazy doesn’t make much difference to me either way,” Rei said.

“But it’s common to view the JAM as a new species, isn’t it? And for the JAM’s part, I definitely think that when they captured you and Yukikaze as a pair, they saw you as a type of FAF enemy hitherto unknown to them. I doubt they really possess a very deep understanding of humans…”

Captain Foss’s words trailed off as she looked at the bed next to them. There was a fumbling in the tent and Lieutenant Katsuragi emerged. Major Booker didn’t stop him. The lieutenant stood in front of Rei’s tent and spoke.

“I’ve been listening to what you’ve been saying, and I had a thought. Major Booker, may I?”

“Don’t stand on ceremony, man. Say what’s on your mind,” Major Booker replied, inviting him into the tent.

6

LIEUTENANT KATSURAGI SAT down on a chair offered to him by Major Booker and began to speak.

“You said that the JAM don’t understand the SAF. It’s similar to how I said that I don’t understand it either.”

“That’s right. That was on the recording,” said Captain Foss. “So?”

“It’s hard for me to explain, but I thought that Captain Fukai thinks the same way that the JAM do. It’s something like total individualism. The JAM aren’t a collective being. I think that what the JAM can’t understand is how a collection of individualists like the SAF can still function together as a whole to resist them. Do you see what I’m getting at? I’ve only just come to the SAF, so it still seems miraculous to me. It seems unbelievable to me that Captain Fukai flies Yukikaze for his own personal reasons, and the SAF thinks nothing of it. I doubt the JAM are the only ones who find it amazing that a group of humans like that can function effectively.”

“I know just what you’re talking about. I also thought that when I came here.”

“It was General Cooley who made the SAF like this,” said Major Booker as he sat down on Rei’s bed. “You could say that the organization was set up as a gathering of people with special personalities. They never expected problems like this would arise as a result. Well, I suppose we are special as far as the FAF is concerned, so it’s only natural that we get treated differently than other units. Maybe that’s what’s thrown the JAM for such a loop. I never would have expected that, though.”

“There are many different types of humans,” said Captain Foss. “Usually, they tend to mix traits together within a group to form an average. However, the SAF was artificially set up to form a group with similar personality vectors. It isn’t just simple individualism, but rather like a non-group-based life philosophy of autonomy. It’s almost like a group that believes itself capable of parthenogenesis. Even their interest in the opposite sex is weak. They might have sexual desire, but very weak urges to form families or protect and care for them. The term ‘special’ almost can’t help but carry a negative connotation.”

“That’s the SAF exactly,” replied Major Booker with a nod of his head. “But while it may be special among humans, there are plenty of animal species that live their lives in this way. Seen from that point of view, you could say that most people are the special ones and we’re the normal ones.”

Rei caught Captain Foss’s glance and, feeling as though she was criticizing him, spoke up.

“I don’t know if it’s normal or not, but human beings are capable of living on their own. It’s just that a life like that can be difficult. After all, we humans were basically programmed to live in groups from the start.”

“By whom, I wonder,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “At the very least, it wasn’t the JAM. The JAM seem to understand the character of the SAF. The way they talked, it was like they expect life to be like that. It was almost as if they had scattered the seeds of life across the earth.”

“It’s possible that they did,” said Major Booker. “But I doubt they came to Earth to harvest it. Not to observe either. They invaded Earth seeking something that they could use. It’s possible that the JAM systematically modified the earth in order to make it suitable for themselves. But instead of organic life, what if it they had been attempting to grow computer networks? What we consider artificial information systems. Maybe what happened was the JAM set up an operation to create them automatically, but when they came here expecting them to be completed, they realized it had been contaminated by an unforeseen glitch called ‘humanity’ and didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“I got the feeling that the JAM just didn’t quite understand the human speech they were using,” Rei replied. “I wouldn’t take them at their word.”

“But I was thinking,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “The JAM can understand the personality of the SAF but don’t understand why you won’t ally yourselves with them.”

“That’s right, I agree. What about it?”

“I know there’s another group aside from the SAF who’s like that. So I was wondering, why didn’t the JAM contact them as well? They can’t not know about them. That’s when it hit me: the JAM didn’t contact them because they can understand them.”

“There’s a group like that in the FAF?” Rei asked. “Other than the SAF?”

“Yeah, the combat unit of the FAF central intelligence department: the FAF Intelligence Forces,” Katsuragi said. “The group led by Colonel Rombert. I think that guy’s a JAM. I have no basis for it, just a gut instinct.”

“I get you,” Rei said after a moment’s consideration. “It makes a lot of sense when I think about it. That’s probably why I could have potentially been assigned to the Intelligence Forces instead of the SAF. If they’re working for the JAM, then it makes sense that the JAM would have no questions about them.”

Major Booker stared at Lieutenant Katsuragi, then silently took a swig of his beer.

“A double agent,” said Captain Foss. “Someone inside the FAF who knows its counterintelligence activities would certainly be an invaluable resource to the JAM.”

“Jack, what do you think about this?”

Major Booker gulped down his beer, then sighed and spoke.

“Keep your voices down. The room may be bugged. Except it’s too late now, isn’t it? Well, Colonel Rombert must have known we’d be on guard for this. Of course the SAF was aware of that possibility. Rombert is the absolute last person we’d want to be a JAM duplicate, as far as we’re concerned.”

“Did the JAM have a chance to replace him?” Rei asked. “You must have checked that out.”

“I think that, if the JAM really wanted to, they could swap in a duplicate at any time. Besides, he doesn’t have to be a duplicate. It wouldn’t be so strange for a human to decide to help the JAM if he gets what he wants in return. There’s the question of how he made contact with them, but the possibility may be high that he has.”

“Long story short, the SAF suspects that Colonel Rombert is a cat’s paw for the JAM,” Rei said.

“Exactly. The fact is that, right now, we’ve received orders from Colonel Rombert to place you both in the newly formed retraining unit. That pretty much clinched our suspicions of him.”

“Retraining unit? When was that established?”

“I was told yesterday, during a meeting with General Laitume. It’s a confirmed fact. Colonel Rombert’s in charge of it,” Major Booker said.

“They’re trying to separate me from Yukikaze?”

“I’m afraid that Colonel Rombert may destroy her,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “The JAM are sick and tired of her. Absolutely.”

“You said no, of course, right, Major?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll be hard to ignore these orders,” the major explained. “It’d be hard even for General Laitume to do it. The existence of JAM duplicates has thrown the FAF into an existential crisis. Doubtless, Colonel Rombert is fanning the flames. But if he’s a JAM, what would his motive be for doing that?”

“God damn, it’s a brilliant way to do this.” Rei sighed. “The colonel’s found a legitimate way to obtain information on the SAF. If he’s a JAM, he could take over the SAF and then use it to carry out the JAM’s ends. Isn’t that a clear enough motive? If you follow these orders, the SAF will be destroyed. Jack, you don’t want to recognize them, do you?”

Booker answered with a silence that was broken by Lieutenant Katsuragi saying that he was thirsty too.

“You can have my drink if you want,” said Captain Foss.

He took a sip from the beer she held out to him, then sounded determined when he spoke.

“I’m going,” he said. “You can say that Captain Fukai is too badly injured to be moved, but I want to have a word with Colonel Rombert.”

“It’s General Cooley’s decision, and a difficult one. But we don’t have much time. General Cooley has to make it as soon as possible,” said Major Booker. “At any rate, the intelligence you two brought back is beyond anything we expected. It’s requiring us to completely rethink the meaning of our war with the JAM. Compared to that, this thing with Colonel Rombert is just a trivial problem.”

“Are you saying there’s no point in fighting anymore?” asked Rei. “Is the SAF abandoning its war against the JAM?”

“Captain Foss, tell them your prediction.”

“Yes, Major Booker,” Captain Foss said, formality creeping back into her voice. “With the additional data that Yukikaze brought back, I can make a report on the results of my profacting of the JAM. In a nutshell, the JAM desire competitive coexistence with the SAF. I haven’t formally submitted my report to General Cooley yet, but—”

“What do you mean by competitive coexistence?” Rei said.

“A relationship wherein we shut up and let the JAM get the jump on us. It would change the relationship to one similar to where we compete for a common food source, sometimes working with the JAM and at other times competing against them. That seems to be how the JAM conceptualize us. It’s clear that if we abandon our war with them, we won’t be able to compete and will ultimately be consumed by them.”

“That’s practically the same as what we have now. Nothing would change.”

“That wouldn’t be true for the FAF and the people of Earth,” Captain Foss continued. “I predict that, since the JAM will have completed their information gathering from the humans here on Faery, the probability is high that they’ll decide that the war here is no longer necessary and initiate a full-scale invasion of their main target: Earth.”

“They’ll just ignore us?”

“The JAM were sounding you and Yukikaze out as possible allies on this mission, but their objective wasn’t to gain a strategic advantage in battle. For them, Yukikaze and the SAF are the only things that they don’t understand, meaning that they’ve judged you to represent anomalies compared to the rest of the humanoid beings in the FAF, which they do understand. The JAM wanted to confirm that before they begin the full-scale invasion of Earth. If they decide that the SAF are just normal humanoids as well, then I believe that they’ll immediately begin their final attack. No, actually, that wouldn’t even be necessary. I think the war here on Faery could go on for the time being while they realize their original goal without us humans even knowing it.”

“And what was their original goal?” asked Lieutenant Katsuragi.

“That, I don’t know. But if that happens, the war here on Faery will become completely meaningless and we humans would never know it. It’s possible that’s already happened. But the JAM didn’t get their answer about Captain Fukai. Therefore, their questions about the SAF remain.”

“According to Captain Foss, developing a new strategy against the JAM is going to be a nightmare,” said Major Booker. “Even a huge JAM attack on the FAF might just have as its tactical goal intel on us as a prelude for their final attack. It won’t be the sort of localized war we’ve seen here. It’ll be the full might of the JAM hitting all of our forces everywhere on this planet simultaneously.”

Neither Rei nor Lieutenant Katsuragi could say a single word.

“It doesn’t matter if the SAF stood down against the JAM or even joined forces with them. They’ll still end up attacking us. I’m convinced that’s what they’ll do. Our choice is to kill or be killed, the same as it always was. But the meaning of the battle will be different. And there you have it.”

“How much time do we have, Captain Foss?” Lieutenant Katsuragi asked. “Do we have enough time to think this over carefully?”

“The time needed to rethink the meaning of why they’re fighting and find that answer is different for each of us,” she replied in an objective tone, then continued. “But I think the JAM have completed their preparations for the all-out attack. There’s no mystery about when they did it—they’ve been ready ever since they abandoned Richwar. I can rightly guess that they were ready to put their plan into action once they’d seen Captain Fukai’s attitude. Cookie base was a chess piece they sacrificed to lure Yukikaze to them.”

“You’re saying I was the trigger for the full-scale attack?”

“Yukikaze was the one who cocked it,” said Major Booker. “All you did was follow the mission.”

“So did Yukikaze.”

“I know. Yeah, if I’d just been aware of her combat awareness, I might have been able to do something about it. If Captain Foss’s prediction is correct and the final attack is now imminent, I would be the one responsible,” Major Booker said

“Excuse me, sir,” Captain Foss said. “There was nothing you could have done, Major. You can’t stop Yukikaze. And we can’t negotiate with the JAM. This is as pointless as standing in front of an erupting volcano and arguing about who ignited it. That’s what I think, at least.”

“Speaking of a full-scale attack by the JAM, it’d exceed the expectations of the FAF, wouldn’t it?” Rei said. “They wouldn’t have time to evacuate everyone back to Earth. The FAF will have to fight. But that’s natural, since it’s an organization created to fight. The same goes for us.”

“We have no chance of winning,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “And we can’t surrender. I doubt a white flag would work with the JAM.”

“I have hope,” Foss said.

“You think the JAM will spare you if you act like you like them, Captain Foss? That’s naive,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi.

“I mean we have a strategy to avoid defeat,” she replied. “Become composite life-forms. That’s the only way to keep the JAM from beating us.”

“The FAF will never be able to do that,” Major Booker replied. “The FAF battle computers see humans as a hindrance that they’ll cut loose when things go to hell. If the humans can’t retreat back to Earth, then we’ll have to deal with it. But not by becoming this new composite species or whatever the hell you want to call it.”

“But I think that the SAF could do it the same way that Yukikaze and Captain Fukai have,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “You are literally a special force.”

“In short, it’s a way to not lose to the JAM even if they kill us. But it’s just a theory,” Rei replied. “Logically, I understand. When I’m with Yukikaze, I have no regrets. But what about you? Could you allow yourself to die in battle based on your theory?”

“Well…I won’t know that till it happens,” said Captain Foss. “But at least when it does, it’ll be after feeling the satisfaction of knowing that my prediction was correct.”

“Maybe the JAM might even pay some respect for your pride.”

“I don’t want to lose, not to anyone. Not to the JAM, to the SAF, or even to myself. That’s all. Besides, I didn’t predict that we’re going to lose. The JAM will cope with the composite life-forms by changing themselves. I believe that the JAM themselves will evolve to become more like us so that they can achieve competitive coexistence. In that case, I can even think that the SAF will end up capturing a JAM and forming a composite life-form with it. Rei…Captain Fukai, if hearing my prediction now about the JAM’s all-out attack makes you think only about wanting to die with Yukikaze, then I’ve misdiagnosed you. You’ll need a bit more counseling.”

“Jack,” began Rei as he climbed out of bed, “give me clearance to see Yukikaze. Input my report into the tactical computer, along with Captain Foss’s prediction.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I want to see Yukikaze’s reaction. I have a feeling she’s searching for me, and she won’t stop accessing the FAF network till I go to her. She can’t understand the differences between the personalities and nature of the people in the SAF and other humans. It’s dangerous to leave her as she is. I’m going to go and explain it to her. Edith, you come too. And don’t say that all she and I think about is dying.”

“All right,” said Major Booker. He checked his wristwatch. “I’ll give you thirty minutes. Get back here within that time, then eat and get some rest. We’ve got a meeting with General Cooley tomorrow at 08:00. Lieutenant Katsuragi, stay here. You have a report to write.”

“Yes, Major.”

“Then deliver your report to me orally, based on it.”

“Roger.”

“Where is Yukikaze?” Rei asked. “Is she being serviced?”

“In the hangar. She wanted it that way. She doesn’t want anybody to touch her until she’s sure you’re all right. We’ll never get her repaired at this rate. So go, you have thirty minutes. I’ll lend you my watch.”

Taking the major’s watch, Rei went to see Yukikaze, still clad in his sweatsuit.

HER CANOPY WAS shut tight. Pulling out the folding ladder, his feet shod only in white cloth med center slippers, he climbed up and turned the exterior canopy handle. Then, after helping Captain Foss into the rear seat, Rei settled into the front.

“You’re really sweaty,” Captain Foss said. “You’re amazingly lively considering what you’ve been through. I have a feeling you think my prediction is just a theory.”

Without answering her, Rei plugged in the headset he’d brought with him from the prep room and switched on the main power to the instruments. On the main display appeared a scrolling list showing the network types and discrete computer IDs Yukikaze was accessing. He knew that the SAF’s tactical computer was acting as the intermediary. Suddenly, the display cleared.

“It went out. Like it broke.”

“No, Yukikaze just cut the connection with the tactical computer. —Yukikaze, this is Captain Fukai. Were you looking for me?”

Yukikaze didn’t answer. The display remained dark.

“It looks like she still can’t understand human speech, Captain Fukai.”

Ignoring her, Rei continued.

“Yukikaze, if you’ve learned anything through the FAF computer network, then report it to me now. Do you understand?”

No answer. It was as if Yukikaze was asleep. Rei felt as though his body was shrinking. He softened his voice, as if telling her to relax, that it was okay to sleep here.

“What’s wrong, Yukikaze…? Why won’t you answer me?”

Rei thought about her consciousness, then came to his senses. Yukikaze wouldn’t rest. She didn’t sleep. She was always fighting. He had to be like that too, even here. He had to get through to her, not with words, but with his own fighting spirit. Yes, this wasn’t a bed. This was a place of combat.

Rei flipped the master arm switch to ON. Initiate search for the enemy.

“Switch the power on back there too, Captain Foss. Set it to electronic warfare mode.”

“Roger.”

Just as he’d expected, Yukikaze reacted immediately. A diagram appeared on the main display, followed by a message from Yukikaze. Rei and Captain Foss read it, completely speechless.

JAM are here/attack this point…Capt.

“What?” whispered Captain Foss. “Where are they?” The diagram indicated a section of Faery base. One section was highlighted with a square mark indicating the enemy. Captain Foss recognized it even faster than Yukikaze could display the area name.

“That’s the Systems Corps, where my last job was.”

“There are JAM in the Systems Corps?”

“I think it’s the retraining unit. Major Booker mentioned that it’s been set up as a lower branch of Systems Corps. It’s already been gathered together. Or maybe she’s telling us that Colonel Rombert is there.”

“I need more details. Edith, start up the T-FACPro II software. Yukikaze can use it to communicate more clearly.”

This wasn’t going to be done in thirty minutes. There’d be no eating and no sleeping. Rei was already regretting how little sleep he’d gotten as he explained to Captain Foss how to start the program. For the Special Air Force, it was the beginning of a long, restless night. A night during which they couldn’t afford to waste a single moment.