VIII Good Luck

VIII

GOOD LUCK

1

IT WASN’T MY fault that I lost my plane in combat, the man thought. So no, being sent to some retraining unit wasn’t something he’d go along with. Why the hell did he need to be retrained? What was the FAF retraining him to do?

The man, Lieutenant Gavin Mayle, formerly of the 505th Tactical Fighter Squadron attached to Tactical Air Base 15, had been ordered to transfer to the retraining unit and now stood inside a Systems Corps’ barracks.

The barracks were a six-person room in a converted warehouse, and one of the three light panels in the ceiling wouldn’t turn on. Must have been a rush job. Not the appropriate sort of greeting for a top-class pilot. Lieutenant Mayle angrily unpacked his belongings, not speaking to the other five people sharing his quarters.

It had been explained to Lieutenant Mayle that the retraining unit was established for those who had been shot down by the JAM. They were to receive advanced tactical air combat training to prevent a recurrence. At least, that was what his commanding officer at TAB-15 had told him.

And when exactly had he been shot down by the JAM? he’d asked his CO when he’d received his orders to transfer.

“When Lieutenant Lancome was killed by that SAF fighter,” his commander had said. “Your assault unit was wiped out then.”

“And you’re pinning the blame for that on me? Now? That was two months ago!” After Lancome’s death, the 505th TFS had waited a long time before being resupplied with one, and then two, new planes, finally bringing them back up to full strength. That had been a long, difficult time for team leader Lieutenant Mayle. Even without their full complement of planes, they’d still been expected to get the same results in combat.

“Well, it’s not directly related to that.”

“Well then, why is this happening?”

“Orders from above. My speculations don’t matter.”

“Who above ordered this?” Mayle asked. “Was it someone in the advanced tactical air corps? Please tell me so that I can file a direct protest to these orders.”

“The orders came through ATAC, and as you’d expect, this transfer is pretty major. I checked into this too, Lieutenant. This has got central command stirred up like a hornet’s nest. These orders come from the very top of the FAF. They seem to be collecting all pilots who’ve been shot down by the JAM into one unit, and it isn’t just guys in ATAC. It’s affecting all of our forces,” the CO said.

“But I wasn’t shot down by the JAM! It was an engine fault. I couldn’t get full thrust. Same as everyone else’s plane. The JAM didn’t do that. We didn’t detect any kind of interference like that from them. It must have been a bad load of fuel or poor maintenance. The maintenance team should be the ones retrained. Don’t you think? It’s crazy to transfer me!”

“I tried telling them that you weren’t directly shot down by the JAM, but it didn’t matter. Their selection criteria are classified. Basically, it’s a military secret. The guys in central don’t understand how hard things are for us here on the front. They say whatever suits them and nothing we say about it matters. We’re in no position to say no, so I can’t refuse these orders.”

“What the hell are those guys at Faery base thinking?”

“I think the Systems Corps may be trying to assert dominance,” the commander answered, clasping his hands together and twiddling his thumbs as he talked. “As far as you’re concerned, I suppose they’re trying to find the cause of the fault that brought down all of your planes at the same time. We also investigated the matter, but never found a clear cause for it.”

“If we couldn’t figure it out while it was happening to us, what do the guys in Systems Corps think they can learn by re-examining it at this point?” Mayle said.

“Central doesn’t trust our investigation abilities.”

“And they’re gonna find out the cause if I report there? Even as they’re basically saying that they don’t believe us anyway?”

“If you go to Faery base and become one of them, you’ll probably end up not believing what I say too.”

“What do you mean?”

“People change according to their situation. This transfer won’t be such a bad thing for you. Once you complete this retraining program, they’ve promised you a promotion. You’re a captain now.”

“If I’m being promoted, then I’d like some acknowledgment of how hard I worked to rebuild the 505th.”

When he’d ejected from his falling plane, Lieutenant Mayle had thought he’d never want to fly again, but he’d forgotten all about that by the time he made it back to the rescue station. First of all, he was worried about the safety of his men. Lieutenant Mayle was among the first to be rescued, so he didn’t know then what had become of his subordinates. As team leader, Lieutenant Mayle felt responsible for his subordinates and had personally participated in the rescue operations.

“I fully appreciate all the effort you put into that. You did well, but no matter how many times I say it, I can’t go against the higher-ups. I don’t know the details of this transfer, but I don’t think it’s a bad deal for you. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just think of it as executive candidate training. Maybe in the not-too-distant future, you’ll be giving me orders.”

“Can you guarantee that I can come back here?”

“No, but they didn’t tell me you couldn’t, so it’s possible. Maybe the higher-ups think you’re being wasted just being used as a squadron-level leader. I have no idea what they’re thinking in this.”

“I’m a fighter pilot. They’re probably gonna ground me because I’m a screwup. What happens to my squadron once I’m gone?”

“The squadron will stay in operation, even without you,” the CO said. “Why wouldn’t it? I promise, I’ll keep it going.”

“My squadron is like family to me.”

“I’ll throw you a farewell party. But in lieu of a farewell gift, I’ll tell you something.”

“What?”

“I’ve been giving some thought to what destroyed your plane. Don’t tell anyone this, especially the higher-ups. I don’t dare say anything since I have no evidence of this—”

“What are you trying to tell me? That I was the cause? You sound exactly like you want to get rid of me.”

“Lieutenant Mayle, look… I think your man Lancome did it. I’m saying that he sabotaged your plane somehow. He’s the only suspect that came up out of the entire maintenance crew.”

“What, like Lancome mixed sugar into our planes’ fuel? A fighter isn’t a car, sir!” Mayle exclaimed.

“He probably messed with your flight software. Apparently, it is possible to cause what happened to you using the maintenance chief’s access code.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“There’s no proof. We couldn’t find anything in the wreckage of the downed planes we recovered. And yet Lieutenant Lancome died in that friendly fire incident with that unmanned SAF plane,” the commanding officer explained. “They claim it was an accidental weapons discharge, but you know how they are. Who can say if that’s true? I’m wondering if that wasn’t an accident, that the SAF somehow found out that Lieutenant Lancome was sabotaging the planes.”

“You mean they had him do it and then silenced him?”

“No, probably not. Even if they had, there’d be no benefit to the SAF.”

“You’re telling me that Jonathan Lancome betrayed us?”

“We know for a fact that he was mentally unstable. He was probably sick. Just couldn’t take being grounded anymore. So he ended up committing a destructive act—”

“He wasn’t that sort of person!” Mayle said.

“I wonder if your naivety might not have caused this. I can’t directly check up on the mental condition and daily attitudes of everyone on this base. It’s your responsibility to keep up with what’s happening with the men under your command. You probably don’t have suspicions about anyone in your squadron. Maybe you were too close to the problem, and the SAF knew Lieutenant Lancome better than you did. That’s the part that really irks me. That those people aren’t just spying on the JAM but also on what’s going on in here.”

“Do you realize how crazy you sound right now?”

“I think I’m seeing this more coolly than you are, Lieutenant Mayle. Your squadron’s planes suffered some sort of electronic attack by the JAM, or engine trouble. I’m not going to deny the results of the official inquiry. What I just told you now are my personal feelings as a farewell gift. Now go to that retraining unit. It’s just the place for you. Dismissed.”

The man had started out sounding like he was praising Mayle, only to start tearing him down. He acted so understanding, only to reveal his distrust. Personal feelings, huh? What the hell had he been playing at? Mayle couldn’t understand his intentions at all, and his commander’s ambiguous manner had pissed him off. Even so, he couldn’t just blow up at him. It would have been foolish to risk a firing squad by trying to go up against a man who took his own self-protection as seriously as the CO did. Besides, considering there was a chance that Mayle might return here in an even higher position than his commander, he managed to choke his anger at the man’s indecipherable attitude down to mere annoyance, and exited the office.

The men under Mayle’s command were sorry to see him go. At least, they seemed so. No, he knew that their feelings for him were genuine, but as far as this squadron was concerned, Lieutenant Mayle was no longer a part of it. That was driven home to him by their attitude when he announced that Lieutenant Gargoyle was to be their new acting team leader. Gargoyle might have still technically been Lieutenant Mayle’s subordinate, but it was clear that his executive officer was now their leader, their boss.

“Take good care of this squadron, Lieutenant,” Mayle had said. Gargoyle had nodded and then replied.

“Actually, Lieutenant, I was promoted to captain yesterday. I just haven’t put my new rank badge on yet.”

“Good for you.”

“Do your best too, Lieutenant. And don’t worry about things back here.”

I’ll worry about whomever I damn well want to worry about—No, Mayle couldn’t turn on his men like that. This was the squadron he’d nurtured and protected, and now he no longer belonged there. The loss he felt made him miserable, then angry. If Lieutenant Gargoyle had managed to force him out of the squadron on his own merits, Mayle still wouldn’t have liked it, but at least he’d have been able to understand it. But that wasn’t the case here. Why just me? he wondered. The entire squadron had gone down, so shouldn’t they all be candidates for this retraining unit? He could understand if he was being sent there as the representative for the entire squadron, but his orders hadn’t mentioned that. He was leaving and not expected to return.

The higher-ups were completely ignoring all of his accomplishments, and Lieutenant Mayle didn’t like that one bit. What was the point of everything he’d been doing up till now if this was how they were going to repay him? Logically, he could understand that things like this happened in large organizations, but now that he was actually in this situation, he could only see it as being completely unfair. Logic could do little to assuage his emotions.

As Gavin Mayle unpacked his bags in the room where his new life would begin, all he could think was that he’d just end up a loser unless he did something about this. He had no intention of being content with the fate that all these other people had been handed. No, he was going to have to make a fresh start and begin clawing his way up again. If he wanted to feel even a little better, he’d have to keep himself at least half a head higher than the others. And if anyone got in his way, well…they had better not.

Before he could finish his unpacking, an announcement came over the intercom—all hands were ordered to a staff assembly.

Their schedule was broken down into a minute-by-minute menu. We’re being treated like raw recruits, Lieutenant Mayle thought. It irritated him, but he didn’t defy his orders. Those who were late to arrive would be punished, and while the punishment might not be very severe, Mayle realized that even a punishment “game” would probably reveal the personality of their new commander. Coming to his senses, he was the first man out of the room.

They gathered at an aircraft hangar rather than an auditorium. Four Systems Corps training jets were lined up in a row. They were Fand light attack fighters, older models than the Fand IIs now in use. Still, this model had been modified and improved over its long years of service and was highly reliable, Lieutenant Mayle thought. The paint job on them looked brand-new: light gray with broad red, white, and blue stripes. They almost looked like the markings you’d see on an aerobatic team.

They were lined up according to their barracks assignments. Mayle’s group was the very last room, and he stood at the end of his row. Each room had eight men assigned to it, but his group had six. Seeing that he was the last man, Lieutenant Mayle grew irritated again. His room only had six people in it, so there was nobody behind him. Dammit, what the hell was going on? he wondered. Were they implying that he was the lowest man on this totem pole?

The man in charge of the retraining unit was a Major Karman, the director of test pilot training for the Systems Corps.

“Gentlemen, here you will be receiving the highest level pilot training,” the major said. “It’ll last for two months. Now, usually it’d take about six months, but you people aren’t amateurs. I’m sure that you’ll be able to keep up with the pace. Once your training is complete, you all will be the best fighter pilots on this or any world. Don’t forget how much money has been invested in each one of you. You people are the elite, and the FAF expects great things of you. I want you all to give this your very best.”

The major then carried on with an outline of the curriculum, which was to involve both theoretical study and practical training. The theoretical part would start off with a foundation of the physics, mathematics, and physiology related to flight and go on to tactical air combat theory and the study of the mechanics of FAF fighter aircraft. The practical training would involve flight simulator training, flight training in actual planes, physical strength training, and frequent physical examinations.

Lieutenant Mayle thought it strange that, aside from the abbreviated time period, this course was identical to official test pilot training. From Major Karman on down, not one person said anything to imply that they were losers for having been shot down by the JAM. Mayle was actually starting to believe that the FAF was training them to be an elite force.

That wasn’t the only thing he found strange. It was also how seriously everyone gathered here was taking this. He couldn’t believe that he was the only man there who felt like a loser. Either these guys are a bunch of idiots without a thought in their heads, or else they’re even more brilliant than I’d ever expected, thought Lieutenant Mayle. He wasn’t going to lose to them.

As soon as their orientation session was over, they moved straight into training. The entire day was spent completing every sort of paper test Lieutenant Mayle could have imagined. It started with a review of the FAF military regs he’d memorized upon entering the service and tests on his general knowledge of math and physics, before moving on to a monotonous and seemingly endless list of questions for a psychological test. It was, in a word, torture.

Testing continued till dinnertime. After eating, it was back to his quarters to write a report on his impressions of the day’s coursework, and then he had to do homework to prepare for the next day’s classes. Risking my life in combat would be preferable to two months of this, Lieutenant Mayke thought without a hint of irony. His roommates simply sat silently at their desks, studying without uttering a word of conversation. It was unbearable. What the hell is with these guys?

Mayle didn’t feel like taking the initiative to introduce himself. He hadn’t introduced himself to his teammates during the assembly in the hangar either, and so he had no idea what units they were from or what their prior roles had been. But now, here in their quarters, the silence was choking him. I guess I’ll have to be the first to open up here, Lieutenant Mayle thought. And so he announced to his roommates that he’d come from the 505th TFS at TAB-15 and then asked where they were from. The only response he got was from the room monitor—their de facto squad leader—who replied that it wasn’t time to take a break yet.

“Are you serious?” Lieutenant Mayle asked. “C’mon, we’re all friends here, right?”

“I don’t want to end up washing out,” the man replied. “I don’t have time to chat with you. I won’t permit a roommate to sabotage my work here.”

“Is that your order as room monitor?”

“It is.”

“And when did you run for the position? When did we vote on it? Who named you?”

“I suppose we didn’t vote on it,” the monitor said. “Still, if you don’t like it, surely you can see that it’s too late to do anything about it now.”

Lieutenant Mayle had lost his appetite for any more conversation.

As he wondered who this guy was, Mayle suddenly recalled that there’d been a roster of the men in his quarters mixed in among the rest of the mountain of paperwork he’d received that day. He dug around and finally found it. The room monitor was at the top, his name circled. Neither his rank nor his former unit attachment were written next to it. It was just his name. Come to think of it, he wore no rank insignia on his uniform, just a name tag. Lieutenant Mayle scanned the roster, looking to see if there was anyone he knew in one of the other rooms.

There was one. Then the relief of recognition turned to shock. The name Lieutenant Mayle had found was that of a dead man. Jonathan Lancome.

No, it couldn’t be. It had to be someone with the same name. The Lieutenant Lancome who’d served under him had been killed by the SAF, dying instantly when some unmanned fighter called Yukikaze had opened fire while he was performing maintenance duty on the ground. He’d seen Lancome’s remains with his own eyes. There hadn’t been enough meat left to put back together. It’d been horrible.

He wondered where this slightly healthier Lancome had come from. At any rate, the guy didn’t have a very lucky name, that was for sure.

“Any of you guys know someone named Jonathan Lancome?” Mayle asked. This time his roommates didn’t ignore him, either answering no or shaking their heads. The room monitor, however, answered that yes, he did know him.

“Was he a friend of yours?” Mayle asked him, to which the monitor replied that no, he wasn’t.

“There was someone named Jonathan Lancome at TAB-15,” he said. “You must have known him better than I did.”

Wait, so this guy knows which base I’m from, while I still know nothing about him? Lieutenant Mayle didn’t like this one bit.

“I’m asking because this man here has the same name. The Lieutenant Lancome who served under me died in combat. But how did you know that he was one of my men?”

The answer to that question wasn’t anything Mayle could have expected.

“Because it was my plane that killed Lieutenant Lancome,” the man said.

“I beg your pardon?” Lieutenant Mayle said after a long pause.

“I was Yukikaze’s flight officer. She was flying unmanned then, wasn’t she?”

“You’re here from the SAF? What’s your name?”

“Second Lieutenant Burgadish,” the man said.

Yes, that was the name on the roster. But now that Lieutenant Mayle knew that Burgadish was a crewman from Yukikaze, the plane that had killed Lieutenant Lancome, Burgadish was more than just a name on a list. This was Lancome’s murderer, or if not the actual killer, then someone who needed to be held responsible for his death, wasn’t he? How could Burgadish be saying all this so calmly?

“What’s wrong?” Burgadish asked, tilting his head inquisitively. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Why…? Why did the SAF kill Lieutenant Lancome?”

“Well, about that…”

Mayle expected him to reply that he didn’t know, but the man calling himself Lieutenant Burgadish betrayed those expectations.

“Simple,” he said. “Lieutenant Lancome was a useless human being, and so they had him killed.”

“That’s impossible.”

“You don’t seem to know anything, Lieutenant Mayle. Why not go see for yourself?”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You can ask Jonathan Lancome directly. His name’s on that roster, isn’t it?”

“What are you saying? Lancome is dead. The guy listed on the roster is somebody else,” Mayle said.

“I only know one man named Lancome.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You asked me if I knew him, and I answered you.”

“You’re talking bullshit,” Mayle said.

“You were the one who asked me if I knew him,” Burgadish said.

Lieutenant Mayle silently turned away from him. This guy was clearly nuts.

“It wasn’t the JAM who got us,” the room monitor went on. “The one who hurt us was the FAF. It’s given us all a raw deal. You think so too, don’t you, Lieutenant Mayle? You know exactly how I feel. It’s the FAF we need to take revenge on, and this will be the perfect chance for us to do it. We’re going to show the FAF just how much malice we bear toward them.”

Every man in the room nodded at his words. Lieutenant Mayle was getting a very bad feeling about this, increasingly convinced that he’d come to someplace he definitely didn’t belong. He felt like he’d missed something important somewhere. These men here had come without any doubts about why they were there or what they had to do. He was the only one who didn’t know why. But how could that be? And what was all this talk about malice and revenge? These people were nuts, and more than that, they weren’t aware of it.

Lieutenant Mayle went back to his desk and drew a bottle of whiskey out of his bag. It was a going-away present from his old squadron. He used the cap in place of a glass and drank a shot. The other men in the room glanced at him but said nothing.

I’ve just come to a place I’m not used to yet and I’m getting an attack of homesickness, Lieutenant Mayle thought. Why had these other guys in the room so quickly and wholeheartedly devoted themselves to their task? He just couldn’t get himself to feel that way.

I’m the normal one here, he thought. It’s everyone else that’s weird. They must have been brought here due to psychological problems. That had to be it. He must have been transferred here by mistake. There was no other explanation. Tomorrow, he’d see the commander and lodge a protest. There was no way he could accept this situation like the others here were. That was just normal…wasn’t it?

The whiskey began to work its intoxicating therapy and gently calmed Mayle’s nerves. Right, there was nothing for him to worry about. He’d straighten out whatever screwup had been made. Tomorrow, he’d be heading back to his unit. That was just common sense. As he drank shot after shot, he felt better and better. Lieutenant Mayle forgot all about tomorrow, and he stopped caring about the present as well.

He remembered finishing the bottle off and then crawling into bed to sleep. When he next opened his eyes, his surroundings were dark. Not totally dark, though. A night light cast a dim glow. For a moment, Lieutenant Mayle didn’t know what the light was. It seemed to move as he followed it with his eyes, like the running lights on consort planes flying with him in a night formation. But as he focused, he realized that it was just a night light on the ceiling, and he had gotten very drunk. His breath stank of alcohol. He was thirsty and needed to take a piss badly.

Lieutenant Mayle sat up in bed and shook his light head to clear it. The world wobbled unsteadily. He was still drunk. His head ached a bit, but it wasn’t too bad of a hangover. He had a tough liver, and Lieutenant Mayle was confident that he’d be able to hide that he’d been drinking.

Still, there was the smell of booze on him. Mayle took a deep breath and held it. What was this smell? He must have vomited while he was passed out drunk. But the empty bottle had been placed neatly on his desk. The desktop was clear, the chair upright and clean. There wasn’t a sign of any filth on his bed or sheets either.

Lieutenant Mayle inhaled again and then felt like vomiting. It was a smell like rotting kitchen garbage. It was this smell that had awakened him, he realized, not the urge to urinate. This wasn’t the smell of his own vomit. Something in the room was rotten.

He climbed out of bed a little unsteadily, keeping a hand on it to support himself. How the hell could his roommates sleep with this stench? The man in bed next to him was sound asleep, not moving an inch.

What was making this smell? Finally getting up from the bed, Lieutenant Mayle looked around. Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary, but this smell wasn’t ordinary. He looked over at the man in the bed next to his, thinking of waking him up. His face looked black in the weak glow of the night light. Lieutenant Mayle walked around his own bed to get a closer look. He didn’t recall that this guy was a black man. His face looked bluish-black, and his hair was standing up straight in a wild tangle. Mayle suddenly realized that his own hair was doing the same thing. Every hair on his body was standing on end.

The man in the bed next to him had no eyes in his head, just two black, gaping sockets. He wasn’t alive. It was a rotting corpse. Moving aside the blanket that covered him, Lieutenant Mayle suddenly clapped his hand over his own mouth. The stench from the half-burned corpse was overwhelming. It seemed to be clad in a charred flight suit, and its belly was swollen.

He didn’t know what had happened. He had to tell someone about this, but his rapidly sobering brain knew that was impossible. Everyone in this room with him was dead.

The man in the next bed was a dessicated, mummified corpse. The one in the bed after that was as white as soap. The one next to that was covered in blood. And in the bed of Lieutenant Burgadish next to the door, there was no body, just a head. Just a severed head. The eyes on Burgadish’s head suddenly opened and looked up at Lieutenant Mayle.

Mayle stumbled out of the room into the brightly lit hallway. He looked up at the dazzling lights overhead and sneezed. Any minute now, he’d wake up from this nightmare, he thought. But his nausea wouldn’t go away. No doubt he’d drunk too much and his body had whipped up this whiskey-fueled nightmare in protest. Thinking that, he headed for the restroom at the bend in the hallway. It felt so far away, probably because this place used to be used as a warehouse. Elite, my ass, Mayle thought as he regained his sense of reality.

The lights were bright in the restroom too. There was another man inside, standing at a urinal. He turned to look at Mayle, then smiled.

“Lieutenant Mayle! Long time no see.”

Mayle backed away, unable to answer.

“Lieutenant?” asked Jonathan Lancome, tilting his head inquisitively. “What’s wrong, Lieutanant? You look terrible.”

Zipping up his pants, Lieutenant Lancome walked slowly toward him. Suddenly, a hole appeared in his belly, blood and flesh flying everywhere. Lancome’s body, now blasted in half, fell to the floor. The entire restroom was stained red. Mayle thought he heard a howl like a wild animal, and then he ran from the room, suddenly aware that the cry he’d heard was his own scream. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t stand straight. He hit the wall immediately outside the restroom door, cushioning the blow with both hands, then bent over and vomited. The bile poured from his mouth like someone had opened a tap. Mayle puked two, then three times. By then there was nothing left in him to come out, but he still stood there, dry heaving. The effort brought tears to his eyes. It had to have been the guys in the 505th, Lieutenant Mayle thought. They must have spiked that going-away present of theirs with some kind of powerful hallucinogen, no doubt so that they could calm the rage they must have felt for him. He’d loved those guys, and this was how they’d repaid him. Fuck them all.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant Mayle?”

He heard a voice. He turned his tear-blurred eyes to see who it was. It was no corpse. It was a live, healthy human being. But there was nothing normal about this, because the owner of the voice was the supposedly dead Lieutenant Lancome.

“Who…who are you?”

“Have you forgotten me, Lieutenant?”

“The Lieutenant Lancome I knew is dead. You can’t be him.”

“I am Jonathan Lancome, Lieutenant.”

“But you’re dead.”

“Yes, sir. I am.”

Mayle took a moment to process that.

“What?”

“I haven’t forgotten how good you were to me when I was alive, Lieutenant.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying?”

There must have been something wrong with his ability to understand speech now. What the hell did he mean by when he was alive?

“Look, I don’t care if you’re dead,” Lieutenant Mayle said, carrying on even though he knew it sounded ridiculous. “Stay dead for all I care. But I’m alive, so don’t kill me.”

At that, Lancome responded with a bright smile that sent shivers down Mayle’s spine.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Lieutenant. I feel relieved now.”

“What do you mean, I haven’t changed?”

“Right. No matter what happens, you keep your head. Please, Lieutenant. Give me orders. I’ll do anything for you, because I can’t die now.” Lieutenant Lancome then said that he knew what to do, then went back into the restroom for some cleaning supplies and began to mop the floor clean of Lieutenant Mayle’s vomit. Completely dumbfounded, all Mayle could do was stand aside and silently watch his formerly dead subordinate push a mop across the floor.

He’d always been like this, Lieutenant Mayle recalled. Good-natured, a man who hadn’t a bad thing to say about anyone else. It was like a peaceful scene out of their everyday life, as if nothing had changed at all. Times like these were so much nicer than the hours they spent in their planes, fighting the JAM.

There was the sound of a number of footsteps behind him. Lieutenant Mayle turned to look. His roommates were coming down the hallway toward them, with Lieutenant Burgadish in the lead. They all looked fine. Lieutenant Mayle didn’t know quite how to react to this.

“It isn’t wise to drink too much,” Lieutenant Burgadish said. “Your body isn’t just yours to do with as you want.”

“Heh,” laughed Lieutenant Mayle with self-derision. “You mean our bodies belong to the military, is that it?”

“What you just saw was real,” Lieutenant Burgadish replied.

“What are you talking about?” asked Lieutenant Mayle.

“What you saw was reality. You saw our bodies. We’re all dead, as are you, Lieutenant Mayle.”

“That’s crazy.”

“What we are,” Lieutenant Burgadish went on, his tone now friendlier, “are consumable weapons. We were all sent to Faery to die, so it’s the same as being executed. The FAF is just getting the most use they can out of us. We’ve figured out that they’re going to just keep bringing us back to life so that they can use us over and over. Well, we’ve had enough of being used. We’re going to smash the FAF. If we don’t, we’ll never rest in peace.”

“I’m no ghost,” Mayle said. He was so thirsty now.

“You’re not alive,” said Lieutenant Burgadish. “You may as well be a ghost. The original you died. Try to remember.”

God, he wanted water so badly.

“The consciousness we now possess isn’t real. We’ve been brought back, and the FAF plans to just keep right on bringing us back. This ‘retraining unit’ is nothing but a ghost unit. We’re immortal now because we’re already dead. They can send us on any mission, no matter how dangerous it might be. We have no hope because they can’t bring us back to life for real. In that case, better to just let us die for good. You must see that will be the best thing for us. Look at yourself. You’re nothing but a dried-out mummy now.”

He was suddenly aware of his body growing thinner. He could hear a sound like somebody walking on dead leaves. Lieutenant Mayle held both of his hands up in front of his eyes and stared at his palms. His skin was losing its color, turning the brown of dead leaves, crackling as it changed. His bones clung to the withered flesh as it dried and shrank.

Mayle could feel his hair standing on end, but couldn’t make a sound. He didn’t have the strength to stand anymore and slumped against the wall. He felt as though he’d collapse at any moment. His vision went yellow, then he couldn’t see anything at all, but he remained conscious. He wanted water. Just a drop of water, that’s all.

Please, he pleaded to the rescue party. Find me, soon. His survival rations and water were all gone now. He’d fallen into the dense forests of Faery and could neither climb out nor push his way through the thick branches and leaves. He couldn’t move anymore. He couldn’t see the sky anymore. How many days had it been? His survival beacon breaking down had been the deathblow. Dammit, he wanted to see the sky. Just one more time, just a glimpse.

And then his consciousness had grown distant…What were these memories he was seeing? Was this reality, and he’d just forgotten it? Then, what had he been since being rescued?

“We’re all duplicates now,” Lieutenant Burgadish said.

2

SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING in the Systems Corps. What had Yukikaze found?

Aboard Yukikaze, Rei checked the main display and saw that she had activated the T-FACPro II software. Before he could ask his question, Captain Foss, in the rear seat, spoke.

“This is Captain Foss. Yukikaze, what do you mean the JAM are in the Systems Corps? On what basis are you making that claim? Answer me. What have you found there?”

Yukikaze’s response scrolled onto the display.

I cannot answer Captain Foss’s question without clearance from Captain Fukai.

“Yukikaze, I’m granting you clearance,” Rei said. “This is a vital ongoing mission to predict the JAM’s future behavior. Captain Foss is participating in it as well. Yukikaze, answer Captain Foss’s question.”

Roger.

The response came up on the display in natural human language.

The names of people confirmed dead have shown up on the roster of the retraining unit that has been organized within the Systems Corps. Second Lieutenants Burgadish and Lancome.

“W-w-what?” Rei spit. “Lieutenant Burgadish? As in our Lieutenant Burgadish?”

Lieutenant Burgadish, former flight officer of SAF Unit 3. I identified Lieutenant Lancome as an enemy and destroyed him. Persons with corresponding names are currently extant within the Systems Corps. I predict other persons who would not be expected to be alive are also within this unit. These people are not human. I have therefore judged them to be JAM. I also predict that they will be taking destructive action against the FAF in the near future.

“The people in the retraining unit must be JAM duplicates,” said Captain Foss. But Rei, still unable to believe it, sat staring at the display.

“Captain Fukai, what’s wrong? Captain. Rei! You shouldn’t be surprised by this. We anticipated it.”

“Even if we did…” Rei muttered. “I ate Lieutenant Burgadish’s flesh. And this guy, Lieutenant Lancome…Yukikaze killed him. I ordered her to do it.”

Foss sees this all as a game, Rei thought. Like it was nothing but a big chessboard. This doctor had no real feelings for the two dead men. But to him, they were a reality that held a palpable sense of dread. Lieutenant Burgadish and Lieutenant Lancome…?

Rei unconsciously shivered. If those two were there, then they were duplicates. They had to be. They couldn’t be ghosts. So why am I so terrified? he wondered. What do I have to be scared of?

“The JAM have the ability to bring back the dead,” Rei muttered, then nodded at his own words. “That’s right. That’s what being able to duplicate people is. You could also call these duplicates the living dead.” That was even more frightening than a ghost, and if there was anything that had power over every human being, it was fear.

Yukikaze’s reply continued.

The names of Lieutenant Burgadish and Lieutenant Lancome and their personal histories have been entered into the Systems Corps personnel management computer as members of the new unit. I can verify that there are human bodies that correspond to those names. I can’t confirm if these bodies have the same identities as the men who once shared their names, but that confirmation will not be necessary when an attack is made on this unit.

“Why, Yukikaze? Why do you say that confirmation is unnecessary?”

It is enough to verify the existence of the men with these names. I have made the verification. This is a declaration of war against the FAF by the JAM.

“What…?”

“Yukikaze, you received a message to that effect from the JAM while you were inside of the mysterious battle zone, didn’t you?” Captain Foss asked. “The JAM told you of their strategy against the FAF on your last mission, didn’t they? Answer.”

I recall receiving a message from the JAM that they were preparing a declaration of war. We are preparing a declaration of war in a way which only the SAF will understand. Pay attention to the humans within the FAF, it said. I judge that this situation denotes that declaration. Attack the new unit, Captain Fukai. Not one of them can be allowed to escape. Destroy them all. That is all.

“Let’s tell General Cooley,” said Captain Foss. “Yukikaze’s right. We have to hit this new unit before they can hit us.”

Rei didn’t answer.

“Captain Fukai, what’s wrong? There’s nothing to consider here. This unit is just a collection of duplicates.”

“Assuming it is…then that means there’s somebody in Systems Corps who did this intentionally to tip us off.”

“It was Colonel Rombert. He was in charge of personnel selection, so—”

“But we can’t conclude for certain that Lieutenants Burgadish and Lancome are JAM duplicates.”

“Why not?”

“Because Colonel Rombert may have assigned new names to the people who came to be in the new unit. In other words, he may be using the names of other people as code names, and the real names of the people in the unit may be entirely different. We need verification. Besides, I don’t buy this attitude from Yukikaze that we have to attack without verification. She’s basically telling me to kill indiscriminately, without determining who’s a friend and who’s an enemy. I think…I think she may have been brainwashed by the JAM.”

“What are you saying?”

“Yukikaze has never been concerned about humans. I know that for a fact, Edith. This sort of behavior is abnormal for her. She’s scared of the names of these dead men, and I think the JAM may have psychologically conditioned her to be that way.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Rei accessed Yukikaze’s central data storage bank, searching for the original data to which Yukikaze had referred as the JAM’s declaration of war. But there was nothing specific to indicate the content of the message. Captain Foss also verified this fact.

“The JAM must have made Yukikaze hallucinate as well,” Captain Foss surmised. “I can hardly believe it, even if I did anticipate it.”

“It wasn’t a hallucination. It probably happened,” Rei replied. “The data may not still be there, but when she considers her experiences in the mysterious battle zone, Yukikaze knows that the JAM would issue their declaration of war in this manner. She understands the JAM threat but has no concrete data to back it up. That’s what’s got her so scared.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it that she’s exhibiting fear. But if you say that she’s acting abnormally, then I trust you on that. So what do we do?”

“Something exists which shouldn’t. That’s scary, and there’s only one way to deal with it.”

“How?”

“We acknowledge their declaration of war and attack. That’ll be the only way to stabilize Yukikaze’s psyche. If they’re not supposed to exist, we’ll make them no longer exist…by erasing all data relating to these ghosts.”

“What?”

“Yukikaze, our mission action will be to erase all data in the Systems Corps’ personnel management computer relating to the members of the retraining unit,” Rei said, now talking to the plane. “This emergency mission action will be an electronic warfare attack against the JAM. Prepare to engage. Captain Foss, monitor the electronic attack. Yukikaze, initiate electronic warfare.”

“Wait, stop! Yukikaze, wait!” Foss said. “You can’t just delete data at random.”

“Don’t try to stop this, Captain Foss.”

“You’re the one who’s scared here. Calm down, Captain Fukai,” Captain Foss said. “I understand that you want Yukikaze back to normal, but you can’t rush into this. You’ll be deleting data that could be extremely valuable to the SAF. Even Yukikaze wouldn’t consent to that. There’s a procedure for this. You and Yukikaze are both upset. Surely you see that. Let me handle this.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Rei paused a moment before answering.

“All right, Doctor. Yukikaze, follow Captain Foss’s instructions.”

Roger, Captain Fukai.

“Yukikaze, this is Captain Foss. Tell me about the nature of the data you’ve targeted for attack. There’s no need for you to access it again at this time. What I’m asking is, in your reading of that data, on what basis have you judged that the people in that unit are JAM rather than human and that they should be wiped out? Answer me.”

The data targeted for attack relate to the members of the retraining unit. Full names, ranks, original unit assignments, and sortie records have been recorded, but the details have been changed after certain missions. In the case of Lieutenants Lancome and Burgadish, the fact of their disappearances and deaths in combat are no longer in the record. Instead, past those points, it has been recorded that they have been performing normal duties. This clearly contradicts reality. Therefore, they are not human. If they are not human, I predict that they are JAM. That is all.

“But that’s strange, wouldn’t you say?” Foss said. “Think about it, Yukikaze. The two men you believe are JAM may simply be other FAF personnel who have just assumed their names. Why didn’t you consider that? What’s the reason? Do you understand the meaning of my question, Yukikaze? What is your basis for your absolute belief that those two men are not human?”

The number of all humans currently extant in the FAF compared to computer records of the number of survivors is over by two. In other words, these two people are not FAF humans. On the other hand, it is impossible that the persons now claiming to be Lieutenants Burgadish and Lancome have survived their deaths and continued to perform their duties. From this fact, I have concluded that these two men represent the numeric discrepancy previously mentioned.

“Yukikaze, are you saying that you have counted the tens of thousands of human beings on the planet Faery? Every person living, breathing, sleeping, and fighting?”

I have.

“Might not the data be in error? I’m asking you that, Yukikaze. Respond.”

The data related to management of all humans extant in the FAF is not only stored in the personnel management computers of the units each person is attached to. It is also stored in the memories of several other devices, including FAF facility access control computers and the FAF soldier registration bank. I cross-checked them to verify any errors in their records, but could not find any. There are no errors in the original data. That is all.

“This definitely isn’t the work of a human,” Rei said. “It shows all the hallmarks of a computer’s doing.”

“Amazing… For Yukikaze, so long as that target data about the Systems Corps exists, her only explanation for those two extra men is that they’re JAM. Even if the count is wrong.”

“Making the number of humans match up really isn’t what Yukikaze’s concerned about here.”

“I agree. I’m definitely getting the feeling that she’s been manipulated into acting this way by the JAM. It isn’t so much a question of logic, but rather of her intuition. I think she’s trying as hard as possible to logically rectify the existence of something that shouldn’t exist.”

“Which is what I believe I said at the start, Edith.”

“Yeah…if the original data were consistent with the target data, then Yukikaze wouldn’t have tried to match the numbers up,” Foss said. “This is all caused by the names of the dead men also being registered in Systems Corps’ computers as deceased. The Systems Corps probably hasn’t even considered that two of its people have the same names as two dead men. Still, the discrepancy would be revealed as soon as they confirmed that Lieutenant Burgadish and Lieutenant Lancome are dead.”

“There probably isn’t anyone in Systems Corps who would know either of them. Well, that’s to be expected. Those guys are the elite. I doubt they’d know anyone who served on the front lines.”

“In other words, the only people who’d realize what was going on just by looking at the names would be us—you and Yukikaze and the SAF.”

“Here at Faery base, at any rate. The JAM acknowledged that by sending those two in to be the surplus,” Rei said.

“Only one man could have arranged this. The only one who could modify data without alerting the computers there or arousing the suspicions of the humans in Systems Corps would be the retraining unit’s true supervisor, Colonel Rombert. He has to be a JAM.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Even after all this?”

“You heard Major Booker before, didn’t you? There are those who may not be JAM but who would still use them to destroy the FAF. He might even be acting as an agent for some government agency aiming for total global supremacy,” Rei said.

“That’s impossible. The JAM are the enemies of all humanity.”

“I don’t think the JAM would agree with you. They know by now that human beings are life-forms that would do exactly that sort of thing. They intend to use that aspect of human nature to make the FAF destroy itself from within. Right now, the JAM have positioned the retraining unit as their vanguard, and they’ve used Yukikaze as their messenger to deliver their proclamation as they launch their final attack on the FAF. It really is a declaration of war. If we keep quiet, the FAF authorities won’t know about it for a while.”

“So the JAM tell us and then sit back to see what moves we make?”

“The battle’s beginning. Or, actually, it’s been going on for a while now. The JAM don’t rest,” Rei said. “By neutralizing Yukikaze, they’ve robbed the SAF of a part of its military might. Putting her into this state is a tactical attack by the JAM. It’s like they’ve hypnotized her and gotten her so paranoid and worried about ghosts that she can’t think of anything else. I doubt she could even fly a combat mission now. Unless we snap her out of this, we’re going to lose.”

Captain Foss considered who Rei meant would lose in this. Yukikaze would lose, and that would also be a loss for Captain Fukai, she thought. They really were one and the same now. This new species of composite life-form was also a part of the combat machine that made up the SAF. And as far as the SAF was concerned, the FAF’s fate wasn’t their problem. Their primary concern remained their own personal survival.

This unit I joined really is nothing but trouble, Captain Foss thought. If they took the action Captain Fukai had suggested to return Yukikaze to normal and launched an electronic attack to delete the target data from the Systems Corps’ computer without authorization, it would be a clear violation of FAF military regulations. That kind of arbitrary action wouldn’t be tolerated. She had to stop this; that was all there was to it.

But what then, Edith Foss asked herself, as Captain Fukai might have. Was she so convinced that she was willing to die in battle for it? That’s right, she thought. Right now, this is about my own life or death. Which was more likely to guarantee her survival, either taking the side of the FAF as a soldier or believing in the SAF’s might and supporting Yukikaze and Captain Fukai as his physician? Which position would let her accept the consequences if the choice proved to be wrong?

Captain Fukai and the others in the SAF don’t trouble themselves over these matters because they just aren’t normal. But I am, thought Captain Foss. And that was when it hit her.

She’d never win against the JAM by thinking of herself as a normal human. Hadn’t she been the one who’d said that the way for them to win was to become that new species of composite life-form? She didn’t want to have to die to confirm her prediction, which was another way of saying that she’d be satisfied if she could accomplish that feat of evolution herself. There was nothing for her to agonize over here. If she wanted to live, then she should become one with the SAF. That way she would finally know if she were right.

“We can’t lose,” Captain Foss said. “I don’t want to lose either.”

“Then I’m issuing the order to attack,” said Rei. “I’ll have Yukikaze engage them.”

“No, you mustn’t,” said Captain Foss.

“Why not?”

“We need time. Yukikaze isn’t at full strength now. She still needs to have her engine replaced and repairs and maintenance done.”

“I suppose, but—”

“Captain Fukai, if you attack the retraining unit now, I predict that they will immediately initiate destructive action. If we don’t have some sort of plan to counter them, then Yukikaze could end up being destroyed.”

“Then what are you saying we should do?”

“I think the saying that a sound mind requires a sound body applies to Yukikaze now. Part of Yukikaze’s unease may be due to her physical damage. Captain Fukai, you should give top priority to Yukikaze’s repairs, then attack only once you have permission from General Cooley. We have to come up with a plan that will allow the entire SAF to survive.”

“Edith, to Yukikaze, inconsistencies in data are a real threat. We humans may think of it as some sort of illusory code, but she sees leaving it unrectified as the literal potential for her own destruction. If we don’t deal with it soon—”

“I understand that. I understand it better than you do, even without your telling me.”

“Oh, like you understand anything about Yukikaze,” Rei said.

“You’re the only one who can calm her down. If you’re too hasty and make a mistake in dealing with her, there’s a risk that she’ll go wild. No human would be able to control her then. You have to look ahead. Attacking now would be reckless. The JAM want you to be preoccupied with Yukikaze’s condition. If we go rushing into this, it’ll be game over very quickly. The end, full stop. We can’t let that happen.”

“Stopping the game on doctor’s orders, huh?” Rei said. “But will Yukikaze go along with it?”

“As a human, all I want is to avoid losing. You and Yukikaze both need some time to cool off and collect your thoughts. Make it an order, Captain Fukai. You’re the only one who can persuade her.”

Rei hadn’t realized how rashly he’d been acting. But, he thought, maybe what Edith is saying is correct, and the JAM are trying to keep me too wrapped up with Yukikaze to see that.

And it was true that they’d be at a disadvantage if they launched an attack now. The only way they’d be able to go up against the JAM would be to utilize the full military might of the SAF. The SAF tactical computers could handle the deletion of the target data. They should use the SAF. They could just have Yukikaze confirm that the ghosts were gone without putting any undue stress on her.

“Yukikaze, maintain combat readiness,” Rei ordered. He knew that she probably wouldn’t accept an outright cancellation of the attack. She’d never understand him if he told her, “You’re acting weird and need some rest.”

“Then contact the maintenance team and have them effect repairs on your airframe,” he continued. “I’m going to deplane in the meantime and try to use the tactical computer in SAF headquarters to attack the target data. Respond when I call you. If you require me, contact me via the tactical computer. That is all.”

Roger, Captain Fukai.

After flashing the message onto the main display, Yukikaze shut down the T-FACPro II software herself. The program apparently placed too much of an additional burden on her resources and interfered with combat. That was probably it. And, thinking about how Yukikaze still trusted him, Rei climbed down from the cockpit.

3

IT WAS QUIET in the SAF command center, with even the main screen along the front wall switched off. No fighters were out on sortie; as soon as the missing Yukikaze had been discovered, General Cooley had recalled all the search planes and ordered their crews to get some rest. Instead, the only ones who were busy were the data analysts. Everyone had been called in, even the off-duty staffers, and they’d been gathered there along with Major Booker and Captain Foss to begin the analysis of the data Yukikaze had returned with. Once the first stage of analysis was complete, General Cooley had her staff take a break. She’d told the pair in charge of data analysis and aircraft maintenance that they shouldn’t leave, and so the general had stayed behind in the center with them. She waited for Major Booker and Captain Foss to make their reports after going off to check on Captain Fukai and Lieutenant Katsuragi.

The data were even more useful than we’d hoped, General Cooley thought as she took a light meal of a sandwich and black tea before turning to check in on the work being done.

The method the JAM had used to lure in Yukikaze, the existence of that unknown space, the JAM voice, Captain Fukai’s response to it, the actions Yukikaze had taken to escape… It was all shocking. Lieutenant Katsuragi, who’d come to them from the Intelligence Forces, had reacted the most normally by getting angry when what the JAM, Captain Fukai, and Yukikaze did seemed to defy common sense. Well, perhaps I understand his reaction, considering I also lost my composure when I saw the data, thought General Cooley. They’d brought back a great deal of data about the JAM, but put another way, it meant that the SAF just dramatically increased what they didn’t know about the enemy. Faced with the sheer volume of confusing data, she supposed it was only natural for her to temporarily lose her cool. She wasn’t a machine, after all.

God damn it, she thought as she replayed Captain Fukai’s conversation with the JAM over and over. Just what were the JAM?

Captain Fukai: Just what are you people? Living things? Beings that consist only of intelligence, will, and data? Do you have physical forms? If so, then where are they?

JAM: I cannot explain in a way that would be comprehensible in your terms. I am that I am.

She couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It hadn’t denied having a physical form. The voice calling itself the whole of the JAM was broadcast from the duplicate of the old Yukikaze, but it was hard to imagine that their true form had been riding within the plane itself. She wondered if the JAM’s intentional nonanswer had been a strategic ploy to avoid revealing their physical selves.

At the very least, it seemed that the JAM did possess the general concept of “I.” The JAM had the power to differentiate between itself and others. It seems obvious, but it’s likely a vital point, thought General Cooley. The question was, while the JAM could make the distinction, apparently humans could not. They were just going to have to deal with not knowing where the JAM existed, what a JAM was, and exactly what defined them.

The general recalled a conversation Captain Foss had had with Major Booker during the analysis. It had been recorded and already transcribed. General Cooley searched for the page it was on.

“The JAM didn’t respond when Captain Fukai asked where it was,” Captain Foss had said. “If we believe the rest of what it says, then we can conclude that the JAM have no concept of place or space, or if they do, that it’s outside the realm of human understanding. Considering that they’re beings capable of creating spaces like the Passageway and that so-called ‘mysterious battle zone,’ that seems likely.”

“The question Captain Fukai asked would be difficult for even the JAM to answer, Captain Foss,” Major Booker had replied. “He wasn’t simply asking what their location was. He was asking them where they really existed. For example, where are you, Edith?”

“Ah, you mean is the thing that’s called me my physical body? The consciousness inside my body? Do I have a soul and, if so, where does it go when I die? Yes, that is what he was asking, wasn’t it? A typical Captain Fukai move.”

“I think I would have asked the same thing if I’d been in that situation. And if you asked me that, I’d probably reply, ‘I’m right here.’ ” Booker said. “Simple, accurate, and doesn’t waste ten thousand words trying to elaborate on it. No matter what the meaning of the question might be, the normal answer to ‘Where are you?’ would be ‘I’m right here,’ wouldn’t it? But the JAM didn’t say that. They must have judged that the person they were speaking to wouldn’t have understood if they said, ‘I’m right here.’ ”

“You mean the only way the JAM could put it was ‘I am that I am’?”

“Yes, I think so. It’s not the same as them saying ‘I’m here.’ The JAM definitely exist, but they may not be able to decide if they exist nowhere or everywhere, and they didn’t have the words to explain it.”

“At the very least, that applied to the JAM Fukai communicatd with,” Foss said. “There was no physical entity there face to face with Captain Fukai or Yukikaze that they could understand. It was like it was talking to them on a telephone. But then you can’t say that the JAM have no physical form.”

“You once claimed to Captain Fukai that the JAM were imaginary. Can you still make that claim, Edith?”

“I only said that I couldn’t deny the possibility that they were.”

“I’m not trying to be sarcastic by asking you that. The JAM may be some sort of virtual species. That’s what we humans would have to call an entity we cannot actually perceive. We don’t really have a general concept to describe something that we absolutely cannot perceive. That’s why the JAM couldn’t answer. I’ll bet that if the JAM asked us where our true form is, they couldn’t directly perceive us with whatever senses they have, simply owing to the nature of their own existence. To the JAM, humans probably seem like virtual beings too.”

“When I said that they might be imaginary, all I meant was that they were an illusion that had been dreamed up by humans,” Foss said. “But that isn’t the JAM that’s shown up here. It’s definitely a being you could either believe in or not. Does that still make it a virtual being?”

“A being you could believe in or not may still be an illusion, Edith.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a philosophical question,” Major Booker said.

“I’m not sure I’m following you.”

“The philosophical question of what exactly is something that you can believe in or not. In short, what defines a being that absolutely exists and how do you integrate such a thing into yourself. Aside from Asian philosophies, the philosophies we’re familiar with have a long history of grappling with the question of whether or not beings can absolutely exist.”

“You mean the JAM really may not exist?”

“In one sense, that is possible. There are a number of ways that you can put it. There’s also the idea that the question of what is absolute existence is nothing but a play on words. Put another way, the ability for humans to think about such things and develop such questions makes the questions themselves meaningless. From there, a new way of thinking emerges.”

“What sort of way?”

“That absolute existence, which is perhaps a god, or an agreement between subjective and objective perception—there are many ways to express it, anyway. The long and the short of it is that this way of thinking doesn’t affect how we exist. It’s a momentary thought—yes, truth is informed by human cognition, and anything beyond that is simply an individual question.”

“So, those who believe in them should believe and those who don’t shouldn’t, you mean?” Foss asked.

“Well, I suppose you could put it that way. But an ephemeral way of thinking could distort the perceptions of what’s right in front of you.”

“Of course it would. The JAM can’t simply be dealt with as a personal matter.”

“Which is why we’re here asking that question. I guess what I’m getting at is that we can’t avoid asking philosophical questions as we ask things like what is it that makes us so certain that the JAM exist? What are they? What is their true nature and what is the essence of it? If we accept the fact that their true nature is beyond human understanding, then all we’re doing is groping for a new general philosophical concept. The JAM have been working out what humans are from their end. I’m sure that what they think of us is entirely different from how we think of ourselves. But what we know for certain is that they’re searching for features common to all humans. That’s why they made contact with Captain Fukai.”

“Except that we don’t have time to be arguing philosophy here. There’s no way to answer philosophical questions, anyway,” Foss said.

“That isn’t true. Philosophy is the study of how to question the meaning of existence and how to live happily. Happiness varies according to the era and the individual, which is why there are no universal answers to philosophical questions. However, you can verify them for yourself. If your philosophy can let you accept death, you’ll know. And if philosophy is too grandiose a way of putting it, then call it your worldview. In order to counter the JAM, we need to change the worldview we’ve held till now. Captain Fukai has managed to do that; he’s said so repeatedly. As his doctor, you know that, Edith. And it was Yukikaze that changed his worldview, not the JAM.”

“Major, it’s almost as if you’re saying that the JAM are like gods, and that we need to think about whether or not they exist.”

“It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it?” Booker said.

“I’m surprised. I always figured you were an atheist, like everyone else in the SAF.”

“Whether gods exist or not, we can still live, all the same. That’s what I think, and I believe it’s the same with the JAM, whether they exist or not.”

“I beg your pardon?” Foss said.

“If you don’t agree, then you’re telling me that you’ve accepted the JAM as gods with an objective existence; you’re preaching the religion of JAMism.”

“Hold on there, Major. Then what is it that you’re doing here?”

“I’m explaining to you that if the JAM can’t be directly perceived by humans, then I believe that we can’t fight them without bringing up certain philosophical questions. If the JAM are not physical entities, you can’t simply say that they exist whether you believe in them or not.”

“So how do we make this more definite, Major Booker?”

“We search for exactly what the JAM threat is. If we find that it’s an illusion, then we don’t have to fight.”

“The SAF can’t just abandon the battle now, surely.”

“That’s General Cooley’s job to decide, not yours, and your profacting report on the JAM will be used by her as a major ingredient in determining what decision she makes. Now add in data Yukikaze has brought back. It may be possible now to verify the threat the JAM pose. I have a feeling that we won’t be able to immediately verify your suspicions about the JAM’s true nature. And even if humans in the future judge what we do here as a complete waste of time and history decides that we made a mistake, it’s all we can do now. History’s verdict has nothing to do with us. Either way, we won’t be alive to see it, and that’s true if we die content or cursing our bad fortune. I couldn’t care less about the future. All we can do now is what we believe is best, and that’s how anyone with a brain in their head has lived and died throughout all of history.”

“You think the JAM are like gods, huh?”

“The same way that humans must appear to them,” Booker said. “We’re equal in that respect, and there’s nothing to fear from it.”

General Cooley stopped reading there and took a sip of her tea.

Even if the JAM were like gods, it was nothing to fear— How very typical of Major Booker, Cooley thought. The JAM and humanity were equal in his view. If the JAM are gods, then so are we, he’d told Captain Foss. He’d explained that she should leave out the god angle as much as she could. And even when Captain Foss had still brought it up, he’d told her not to be afraid. Don’t fear the JAM, don’t blindly accept them, just determine the true nature of the threat they represent. That was his way of lending the young doctor support.

But the truth was that their relationship with the JAM wasn’t equivalent, because humans formed collectives. Indeed, Captain Fukai and Yukikaze had fought the JAM on equal terms and had returned to tell about it. Major Booker, too, could argue with the JAM on equal terms with his philosophy. But there was no way that every human was capable of such accomplishments. I put the SAF together to place us on equal footing with JAM, General Cooley thought, and to do that I created a group of individuals with a single purpose, just I supposed the JAM to be. There was no way they could equal the JAM unless not a single person in the group defied her.

Almost from the day she was born, General Cooley had wanted one thing: power. Overwhelming, unquestionable power. Power that would let her declare that the world was hers, that would allow her to argue on equal terms with the gods. From the typical desire for authority most people have, the feeling grew into a palpable sensation inside her. It was probably a base instinct in humans, born out of being social animals. If she were like a cat, a natural loner, then she’d only rely on herself to hunt for food or defend herself from enemies. But wolves and humans weren’t like that. Without a good leader, the entire group would be threatened. We create gods out of our desire for an external leader. A life-form that lives independently has no gods because it doesn’t need them.

Thinking back, the general realized that she’d been defying, even fighting, godlike beings since childhood. Back then, her father had seemed like a supreme being. Whatever he said was right and had to be obeyed. She was the middle child between two brothers, and when she’d complained that he treated her differently, his reply was that it was because she was a girl. Her mother said the same thing. It wasn’t as if being a girl was something to be ashamed of, but the reasoning just seemed so absurd to her. She wished to grow up as quickly as she could but found that things weren’t very much different as an adult.

“General Cooley,” Captain Foss had once asked her, “what did you do before you joined the FAF?” The doctor had been gathering data on the SAF members, and she made no exceptions, even for her own commanding officer.

“I did a number of things, all of them related to finance. Right before I joined up, I was aiming to be a top-level broker in a securities firm.”

“Tough work, but rewarding all the same. Is that the career you wanted, and then the FAF grabbed you?”

“No, I came here of my own accord. You wouldn’t expect someone whose skills lie in finance to be assigned to a combat unit, but it was what I wanted.”

“What was it that brought you here seeking a new world, Lydia?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me by my first name here, Captain Foss.”

“I beg your pardon, General Cooley.”

“What was it? I think young Lydia Cooley just decided to abandon her old world because she found it irrational.”

“I’m not entirely familiar with what goes into being a stockbroker, but the really high-level ones can move the world on their say-so, can’t they?” Foss said.

“Money is just numbers. None of it is real, although that may be an extreme position to take. Still, money does have practical power. It can disrupt an entire nation. To control it, to manipulate it freely, can be thrilling. And when things go well, it can even be fun. But I couldn’t reach that level. I don’t think it was a question of my abilities, but the world wasn’t kind enough to let me get by on just those. I finally understood. You might say that I saw the limits of my world.”

“You experienced sexual discrimination?”

“Oh, naturally,” General Cooley said. “Plenty of that. But that wasn’t what made me abandon it.”

What young Lydia Cooley had realized was that the true source of the irrationality she’d always experienced wasn’t from her being born a woman, but from her having been born a human being.

“Humanity is divided into two classes: bosses and everyone else. Even if a woman controlled the world, no one would accept it. I was being a fool in trying to be a boss that no one would accept.”

“A fool…”

“Yes. Where would be the fun in becoming the boss of people who’d treat me like that?” Cooley replied. “I realized how empty it would be. However, I didn’t want to resign myself to being one of ‘everyone else,’ either. So what was I to do? For a while there, I was seriously considering becoming a nun.”

“So in the end, you began to doubt the rat race and the values of the harsh world of the money game.”

“I suppose so…When I think back, there were all sorts of paths I could have taken. I might have become a researcher, like you, or a talented psychologist who’d make a fortune and win acceptance from the world. Or I could have married and become a mother. But there before young Lydia were beings called the JAM, who threatened the whole of human society.”

“And you felt that a job fighting invaders from another world, ones with values completely different from our own, would be a rewarding career?” Captain Foss asked.

“Maybe I did. It’s ancient history now.”

Captain Foss had nodded, jotted down something in her notebook, and asked nothing more about it.

She had thought it would be a rewarding job, but as General Cooley looked back at the person she was at that time, she realized that she hadn’t been burning with hope. The FAF had been an escape for her. Yes, just like a convent. The JAM were there. The JAM, which she could believe in in place of God. She’d never been aware of it until now, when she’d realized that what Major Booker had said applied to her. Then, she asked herself, did I come here to learn that overwhelming power was a necessity? And with that, I could oppose the JAM?

No, that wasn’t it. The JAM’s attitude had made that clear.

True, it would be an ideal situation to gain absolute authority over the FAF and fight the JAM that way. While humans did operate as collectives, it was necessary to win power struggles within that collective. That fact put them at a disadvantage vis-a-vis the JAM, and they’d be sure to exploit it. The JAM must have understood humanity’s Achilles’ heel. Their analysis must have also shown them that a weak point could be turned into a strong point. For example, conflict within a collective might be necessary to replace a bad boss with a superior person.

The JAM had admitted that the SAF was beyond their understanding. They might as well have said that it was Cooley herself that they didn’t understand, since she was the one who’d set the SAF up in this way. That was the JAM’s weakness. The FAF and the JAM might not be equally matched, but it could be said that the SAF was now in the same position as the JAM. It was a position she couldn’t abandon. The one thing she couldn’t afford to do was behave as her opponents expected.

What she needed to make clear to the JAM was that humanity didn’t merely consist of the types of people that they could comprehend.

“The JAM are like gods?”

Major Booker had said that regarding the JAM as an unknowable enemy called to mind words and concepts like god. Booker told Captain Foss that he’d prefer to avoid seeing the JAM as gods, but also feared that it might be impossible. General Cooley understood how he felt. But, she thought, a part of her hoped that they literally were godlike beings. Because to stand up and fight against the gods was something that young Lydia Cooley had always hoped she could do.

4

AFTER CHANGING CLOTHES, Rei and Lieutenant Katsuragi joined Captain Foss and Major Booker on their way to see General Cooley in the command center.

In response to General Cooley saying that she hadn’t summoned the two pilots, Major Booker whispered in her ear to explain about Yukikaze’s discovery of two unidentified humans within the Systems Corps—men who were claiming to be Lieutenant Burgadish and another dead man. How Yukikaze had recognized them as JAM, and how Rei felt that her concerns were likely a JAM trick. The general betrayed little surprise as she listened. After brief consideration, she ordered First Lieutenant Eco, the chief of fighter plane maintenance operations, to begin repairs on Yukikaze at once.

“Yukikaze won’t resist our moving her to the repair bay now.” There had been some fear of her self-destructing. “However,” General Cooley continued, “we need to keep her linked to the tactical computer while she’s in the repair bay. Can you do that?”

“Of course we can.”

“How long will the repairs take?”

“I’ll know that once I get a detailed look at exactly what’s damaged on her. From what the maintenance team saw when they eyeballed it before, dismounting the damaged engine shouldn’t take too long. It should just slide right out. There’s nothing fatally damaged on the airframe, and the root of the primary tail stabilizer she lost is just fine. It should take us an hour to move her into the repair bay and run a damage inspection. Swapping out the engine and the other miscellaneous repairs should take about three hours if we push it, another two for general maintenance and inspections, so… Yeah, six hours should do it.”

“Do it in four.”

“Okay, we’ll aim for four.”

Lieutenant Eco began to issue orders to the maintenance team from his terminal, the display on the monitor mirrored on the big screen at the front of the command center. Data from Yukikaze’s onboard airframe self-monitoring system began to scroll onto it as well. Confirming that Yukikaze had agreed to the repairs, Cooley told the still-standing Major Booker and his subordinates to take seats at the empty consoles.

“Captain Pivot, enter Captain Fukai’s and Lieutenant Katsuragi’s reports into the strategic computer. Lieutenant Katsuragi, you assist him. Major Booker, monitor what the strategic computer does. Captain Foss, present your formal prediction of the JAM’s strategy and the results of your profacting. Please wait here while I read it to answer any questions I may have.”

“I want to delete the data related to the retraining unit in the Systems Corps,” Rei said. “Authorize the attack.”

“You are to read through the data that you and Yukikaze brought back, as well as the data analysis report we’ve generated here at HQ. Whether or not we attack will be determined by a comprehensive judgment of all available information,” Cooley said. “If you haven’t eaten yet, order anything you want. Captain Foss, Major Booker, that goes for you too.”

“Great, I’ll have a two-pound steak, please, and make it rare,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. That immediately broke the tension.

This might be our last meal, Rei thought. Thirteen people weren’t nearly enough to be doing this. It occurred to him that there were thirteen planes in the squadron as well. When the final battle came, they’d probably all be served fuel and weaponry at the same time too…

The general’s young secretary, who hung by her side like a shadow, took their orders and called them in to the SAF mess hall.

Rei ordered a ham bun, and by the time the round, extra-large roll stuffed with ham and vegetables had arrived, he’d gotten to the part of the analysis report that General Cooley had reread, wherein Captain Foss and Major Booker had discussed the ontology of the JAM.

If they start calling the JAM gods, then it’s all over, Rei thought. The FAF will lose its reason for existence.

If what Major Booker had predicted came to pass, the FAF would split into two groups: believers and nonbelievers. Three, if you counted the group who wouldn’t care either way. And then those groups would probably split into even more subgroups. At any rate, since the JAM were unperceivable entities, it was impossible to ascertain just what was the correct way to conceive of them. With the stress of all these various groups within it, there’d be no way that the FAF could maintain its role as a coherent organization against the JAM. If the groups within the FAF started using force to validate their views, it’d turn into an outright religious war. Major Booker had been right on the money to call it “JAMism.” Even now, there were a lot of people on Earth who claimed that the JAM were illusory, with some of them practically believing that they were gods. The groups back home hadn’t yet begun making moves that threatened the FAF, but there was a real danger that they might.

“If humans really can’t perceive the JAM,” Rei said, “the FAF must never let that information go public.”

“I’d expect the Intelligence Forces have a media control plan ready to go,” said Major Booker, nodding. “What about it?”

“I was just thinking I’d like to tell Lynn Jackson about this. About what we’ve got here. She’s an Earther. She has a right to know.”

“I agree. There’s a saying that the three most useful friends to have are a doctor, a lawyer, and a journalist,” Booker said. “Although you’re inviting disaster if they aren’t very good at what they do. Still, we can rely on Lynn. She can understand the SAF. It’ll be tough to pull off, but I think it’d be worth it. If you were going to make a last will and testament, I can’t think of a better person to entrust it to.”

“It’s not certain that we’re going to lose,” said Captain Foss. “And it’s not certain that we’re going to die.”

“A will is something you write while still alive,” said Major Booker. “We’re losing our chance to leave it with the FAF.”

“The Intelligence Forces aren’t incompetent,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “They must have predicted the implications of knowing the JAM’s true form. You might say that the SAF was slow to figure it out. Well, I suppose that comes from being a combat unit. You only believe in what you can practically confirm. Still, this inability to pin down where the JAM exist is almost like quantum theory, isn’t it? Maybe the JAM are quantum beings.”

“You’re talking about the Uncertainty Principle,” said Captain Foss. “That’s the one that says the means of human observation itself makes knowing an object’s location unclear, since you can’t measure two exact values at the same time, right?”

“That’s not entirely correct,” said Captain Pivot, the man in charge of data analysis. “The values that can’t be simultaneously observed are those with attributes in conjugate relation to each other. For example, position and energy have no conjugate attributes, so it’s possible to know both simultaneously if you measure them precisely. If you make that into the conjugate attributes of position and speed, however, then you can’t observe both values simultaneously.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t explain it in a few words. Quantum theory is hard for us to think about in commonplace terms because it works like a mathematical metaphor. Anybody can understand the formulae if they work hard enough at it; the mistakes come when they try to interpret them. There are some people who make up suitable explanations while ignoring the formulae, which is probably where your own misunderstanding comes from. Now, it’s true that you get uncertain results from inaccurate observation methods, but that isn’t the uncertainty we’re talking about here. Quantum uncertainty doesn’t work that simply. I think what Lieutenant Katsuragi is trying to say is that if the JAM possess quantum uncertainty, then they only exist when you observe them, and that they don’t actually exist anywhere before you do that. One interpretation you can get from quantum theory is that an unobserved JAM really doesn’t exist. Another is that you can’t definitively know that a quantum object exists until you observe it. There are all sorts of interpretations. In any case, humans don’t currently possess an experimental means to determine which interpretation is the correct one. You could say that the incomprehensibility of quantum theory comes from humans lacking the means to make certain the uncertainty of quantum uncertainty.”

“I know exactly what you mean by incomprehensibility,” said Captain Foss. “Comparing something to God makes it seem like you understand it, but the truth is it just means you don’t understand it at all, doesn’t it?”

“Even if the JAM are ambiguous quantum beings like that,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi, sounding pleased with himself, “then they can still be observed and recorded, meaning it’s possible to calculate the probability of where they’ll appear. Conjugate attributes mean that, if you can observe one, then you can calculate the other.”

“You can really imagine the situation is that concrete?” Captain Foss said. “What use would that be when dealing with someone who might not actually exist?”

Lieutenant Katsuragi stared silently at the ceiling, but Rei could guess what he wanted to say.

“What this all means is that, fundamentally, we can’t precisely target the JAM,” Rei said. “The moment we know exactly where they are, we’ll no longer know where they’re going.”

“If the JAM are beings like that, all we can aim at are probabilities. We might get lucky and even hit them,” said Major Booker. “Well, that’s not too different from fighting a normal opponent. In that case, the question is what weapons are effective against the JAM? We can shoot down all the planes the JAM send at us, but as long as the JAM themselves aren’t in them, we’ll never land an effective blow. The same goes for the JAM fighting us humans.”

“We’re just likening the incomprehensibility of the JAM to quantum uncertainty for our own convenience,” said Captain Pivot. “As long as we don’t know for sure that the JAM manifest via quantum uncertainty, then all this discussion about it is meaningless. We’re just confusing the issue, and the last thing we need to be doing now is making the JAM seem more mysterious. First of all, we should make clear what we don’t understand about them.”

“You’re right,” said Major Booker. “If there’s one problem we have right now, it’s our poor communication with the JAM. That’s how they have us jumping at shadows. You could say that this entire war stems from our inability to communicate. Once we can reach them, the JAM’s identity will be made clear as a matter of course. Just as Captain Foss and I said before in our discussion about the existence of the JAM, it’s a question of finding something to make the JAM a certainty to us. Quantum theory may be useful for that, and it’s also possible that scientific methods may prove useless. The point is this—right now, all these arguments aren’t letting us get a handle on what the JAM are. What we need to do is collect data, just as we’ve always had to. If we’re to have in-depth discussions, we can’t lose here.”

“Major Booker…” said Captain Foss.

“Yes, Edith?” said the major.

“Does that taste good?”

“What?”

“That curry. It smells really good and it’s making me hungry.”

“It’s my special menu for when I’m tired. You can order one from the chef too, if you like. Doesn’t taste as good as when Chef Murullé made it, unfortunately,” the major said as he scooped curry onto some naan bread and continued to eat. The stew was spicy and sour, and the meal was completed with a cup of unbelievably sweet tea.

“I wanted to go over the recipe with the new chef but haven’t had the time. There’s also Chinese food on the Booker Special. Would you like me to introduce you to it?”

“No, thank you.”

“Captain Foss,” Cooley said, looking up.

“Yes, General Cooley?”

Having finished reading the profacting results submitted by Captain Foss, the general closed the file. The captain turned to face her, expecting a harsh round of questioning.

“Just how probable do you predict it is that the JAM will launch an all-out attack on us?”

“The T-FACPro II software can answer that for a human subject, but since I was calculating this myself this time, I can’t give you an exact number.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Then I predict it’s highly probable.”

“How high?” Cooley asked.

“I think it’s almost a certainty. As I wrote in my report.”

“Certain enough that you’d give me the cake you’re eating now if you’re wrong?”

“No, General Cooley, I wouldn’t. If you’re asking me to bet something on it,” Captain Foss replied with total seriousness, “then I’d bet my life.”

“You’re still young,” General Cooley said. “If you get it wrong, you can always do it over again.”

“General, I’m being serious. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Edith,” said General Cooley, “one of the joys of aging is the chance to laugh at how foolish you were in your youth. I want you to get the chance to do that too. You shouldn’t bet your life on anything. If you lose, you’ll be left with nothing but regret. Treat it like it’s everything that you own.”

“Yes, General. I’ll do that.”

“Good.”

General Cooley laid the report down on the console and addressed the others.

“Gentlemen, the question at hand is how seriously to take this prediction upon which Captain Foss here has bet everything. I have a feeling you all already know the contents of the report. I’d like to hear your opinions on it. Major Booker.”

“Yes, General.”

“You’ll serve as the moderator. There’s no need for you to form an opinion.”

“Understood, General Cooley.” Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Major Booker stood up. “First of all, are there any objections? Does anyone here disagree with Captain Foss’s prediction? I’ll even take general doubts about it.”

Nobody said anything. The major nodded. “Well, that’s that,” he said and sat down.

“Hold it! What do you mean ‘That’s that’?” Captain Foss said. “Major, you aren’t just going to leave it at that, are you?”

Ignoring her, Major Booker turned to General Cooley.

“General Cooley, what I’d like to know is your opinion of this situation. We have the materials gathered to make a decision. True, it’s incomplete, but if we waited for perfection, we’d never make a move. The most important thing right now is what you think of the JAM’s moves and how you evaluate them. Simply put, what do you want to do? If you tell us that, what the best move is that the SAF can make, what tactics and strategy to use, that you aren’t worried about this, then I’ll do it. We all will.”

“In short, you want to know what my philosophy of life is,” Cooley said.

“I suppose. You could say that the SAF is your life, couldn’t you?”

“And what if I told you that I wanted to end my life here?”

“You wouldn’t!” said Captain Foss.

“That’s your business,” Rei said. “Even if your life ends, ours will continue. That’s all. If you want out of this, then I’d like you to say so. Tell us that we no longer need your permission.”

“You can’t end things that easily,” said Major Booker. “If you renounced your command of the SAF, your will would still remain after you left. In other words, we could still resist the JAM even without you as our commander. Even if you said that you wanted the SAF to self-destruct, it wouldn’t be that easy to do. That’s the difference between us and the other units in the FAF. And you were the one who made the SAF like that, General Cooley.”

“And there’s your answer,” she replied.

“What do you mean?” said Major Booker.

“Major, if you’re saying that the SAF reflects my will, then there’s no need to keep asking me what I want to do, is there? I want to beat the JAM, that’s all.”

Seeing Major Booker’s questioning look, she continued.

“But I understand your wanting to know my evaluation of the JAM’s moves. The information Yukikaze brought back, Captain Foss’s prediction, and the presence of JAM agents in the Systems Corps are all developments I never anticipated. If I misjudge this situation, it will endanger you as well, Major Booker. You’re worried about that. You don’t know what to do, isn’t that right, Captain Foss?”

“Please, I can’t answer something like that out of the blue, but…I think we’re all concerned about this, General. Even Yukikaze is showing signs of instability, so in a way, everyone involved is nervous about this.”

“I feel no nervousness at all,” said General Cooley, cutting her off. “Rather, I prefer the JAM to be ambiguous entities. The reason I joined the FAF was to declare my existence to creatures like that. I didn’t want to do it to other humans. If the JAM had turned out to have humanlike consciousness, to be easily comprehensible, I probably would have been disappointed. In any case, what I want to do is make something simple and clear to them: that the SAF is a threat to the JAM. As for how specifically to do that, I want to borrow your wisdom. That’s why I’m asking for your opinions. However, Major Booker…”

“Yes, General Cooley.”

“As I am not, as I said, troubled by this, I’m leaving this to you. Determine which strategy and tactics the SAF should adopt. I’m going to get some rest. Come up with some executables before Yukikaze’s repairs are complete. Then I’ll make my final decision.”

“Understood.”

The general stood and turned to Major Booker.

“Major, there’s one thing I want you to pay attention to.”

“What is it?”

“How the JAM respond to the SAF in this situation should not be overestimated.”

“What do you mean?”

“The JAM’s enemy is humanity, and we’re only one part of it,” Cooley said. “You mustn’t forget that. I’m saying that if you think they’re giving us special treatment, you’ll make the wrong judgment.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

With a stiff nod from Major Booker, General Cooley made a quick exit, followed by her secretary. Captain Foss was the first to open her mouth and break the silence.

“What was that all about? That attitude of hers.”

“You’re the specialist at predicting how the human mind works,” Rei said.

“That was me completely screwing up,” said Major Booker, rubbing his face with both hands. “I pissed her off.”

“It didn’t look like that to me,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi.

“She was furious,” the major said. “I might as well have told her that she was incompetent and should take herself out of the game. That we’d be able to fight the JAM if not for her. And for that, I got to feel the queen’s wrath upon me.”

“If you’re going to call that anger, then it’s a quiet and deep anger. You’d have to call it a rage against existence,” said Captain Foss. “But I never knew she felt such intense rage.”

“Somebody once said, when confronting God and the universe, ‘I am here!’ ” said Major Booker. “The response they got was ‘So what?’ General Cooley has always been in that situation. This is the first time I really understood.”

“So what?” said Rei. “It’s not our problem.”

“Captain Fukai, that’s not what you’d say now, is it? Or are you reflecting on those words? How that attitude you used to have would hurt the general—”

“I mean it’s literally not our problem. Our flattering or speaking badly about the general doesn’t concern her at all. The only thing that she’s afraid of is having the JAM tell her, ‘You don’t matter at all to us.’ Jack, there’s no reason for you to feel depressed. If anything, it should have motivated you.”

“All it did was remind me of what a complete wanker I can be at times,” Booker said. “Still, I suppose I should be glad that she told me exactly how she felt.”

“The general’s last point was vital,” Captain Pivot said. “If we make a mistake in judging how much interest the JAM have in the SAF, this could all end up with us simply being seen as a mutinous unit within the FAF.”

“We can’t move carelessly,” said Major Booker. “To General Cooley, we’re all just her pawns on the board. But I don’t see it that way. I don’t want to lose a single man or machine.”

“General Cooley doesn’t want to lose her people meaninglessly, either,” said Rei. “Jack, Yukikaze and I work the way you think we do, but we’re also individual beings. If you get hung up on one particular piece on the board, you’ll lose the whole game. If you’re going to play chess that badly, I don’t want to be in the game with you.”

“Hmm… Like that saying ‘A poor player cares more for his rook than his king,’ right? Before all else, you have to think about your own survival.”

“Taking this to its logical conclusion,” said Captain Pivot, “each individual should do what they need to do. Maybe that’s what the JAM are predicting we’ll do.”

“No, they’re not,” said Captain Foss. “I don’t think the JAM are expecting us to do that at all. I think that they expect the SAF to change. I predict that the JAM will try to alter our behavior through some method of attack and will observe our status here.”

“Not doing anything is another measure we could try, but I doubt it would work against the JAM,” said Major Booker. “They’ve likely worked out every possible contingency and are provoking us to act, which is probably why they sent in the duplicates of those dead men. The thing is, it may be too risky to come out and face them. Defense can be a lot harder than offense.”

“What we need to know is what’s happening with the FAF as a whole,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “What strategy are they currently following?”

Captain Pivot ordered the strategic computer to display an FAF tactical map on the main screen.

“The FAF has determined that Cookie and Richwar have been wiped out,” said Captain Pivot. “The next pair of bases targeted are Rakugan and Kanworm. Currently, our main fighter forces are being moved to the front-line bases nearest them, beginning with Faery base, as well as those from Siren, Troll, Sylvan, Brownie, and Valkia. They’re probably planning to launch simultaneous attacks on both enemy bases. There is no JAM resistance to this at the moment. No skirmishes. Nothing at all for the last few hours. It probably hasn’t been this quiet since the war began.”

“This is a very dangerous situation,” said Captain Foss. “I can feel my spine tingling.”

“General Laitume is requesting tactical recon on both bases from us,” said Captain Pivot. “Scratch that. It’s not a request. It’s an order. General Cooley’s been delaying him by saying we’re tied up analyzing the new data, but that’s not going to hold him off forever.”

“Let’s run for it,” Lieutenant Katsuragi suddenly said.

Everyone stared at the young lieutenant.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I’m proposing a strategic movement. Would you prefer me to call it a withdrawal? If we don’t want to get uselessly wasted in battle, I think that’s the only option. We should let the JAM know the SAF is leaving the battle zone, and then retreat our planes to some prearranged airspace.”

“I can’t think of any way for us to escape,” said Major Booker. “You couldn’t call it a strategic withdrawal. That’s desertion in the face of the enemy. We’d never get away with it. It’d be taken as a tactical operation against the FAF. Besides, where would we run to?”

“Sounds like fun,” said Rei. “Skipping out under cover of night.”

“Some might say skipping out is the sort of move they’d expect of the SAF,” said Captain Foss.

“The JAM don’t matter anymore,” Rei replied. “It’s pointless to go on arguing about them when we’ll never get any answers. What we need to consider now is how to oppose the FAF, because they’re not going to let us just run away.”

“It’s worth considering,” said Captain Pivot as he watched the screen. “The SAF has no ground forces. The only weaponry we have are survival guns, and we don’t have much ammo for them. If the human duplicates in the FAF attack us, even with our fighter planes, we’d hold out for maybe an hour before we’d have to run for it. The question is whether or not there’s safe airspace to run to anywhere.”

“There is,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “Earth. We should fly through the Passageway. The FAF would finish off any JAM chasing us. It’s the safest place.”

They all stared at the lieutenant, dumbfounded.

“It wouldn’t work?” he asked.

“Lieutenant,” said Major Booker. “What would we do then? We can’t keep flying forever. The nearest place to go would be an Australian air force base, but we’d violate their airspace if we headed there. They’d treat us like JAM.”

“Any evacuation to Earth,” said Captain Pivot, “would require consent from Earth. Only the FAF high command are authorized to negotiate that. It’s not like I haven’t heard of articles covering the emergency evacuation of FAF combat units, but in this situation, it would be something the FAF would have to do, not us. The SAF would send this information to General Laitume and have him call a top-level FAF strategic conference for the one thing we could do—initiate an emergency evacuation of the FAF.”

“We’d first have to get the general to consent to it,” said Rei. “Then he’d have to convince the other ones in the high command. I don’t know how long it’d take, or if they’d even act, but even assuming they went for it all we’d be doing is moving the battlefield from here to Earth. That’s probably exactly what the JAM want. There’d no longer be any point to the combat bases we have on Faery. Why did we even build Faery base in the first place? Earth would never go along with it.”

“It’d become a political war in which we wouldn’t be able to participate,” said Major Booker. “We couldn’t afford to wait to see what the outcome would be. Look, what we—what I want to protect isn’t the FAF. It’s the SAF and my own self.”

“I see. It wouldn’t work,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “And I thought it was a good idea, too.”

Looking at the lieutenant as he sighed, Rei thought of Colonel Rombert.

“Jack, what about Colonel Rombert’s demand for me and Lieutenant Katsuragi to join that retraining unit?”

“Yeah, that is a problem,” said Major Booker. “General Cooley hasn’t given an official reply yet. Captain Pivot, has Colonel Rombert said anything since then?”

“No, not that I’ve heard. There hasn’t been a peep out of the Intelligence Forces.”

“Even Colonel Rombert probably didn’t seriously expect us to swallow it,” said Major Booker. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been using a dead man like Lieutenant Burgadish in plain sight. If Rei went there, the cat would be out of the bag pretty quick. Maybe he sent for Rei deliberately to blow the secret… But still, Lieutenant Burgadish? I can’t believe it. Is he really there? How can we be sure of this?”

“Why don’t I go?” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “I don’t know what this Lieutenant Burgadish looks like, but—”

“No,” said the major. “You already know too much about the inner workings of the SAF. I can’t send you.”

“Want to try a video call?” said Rei.

“And what if he answers?” asked Captain Foss.

“If it’s actually Lieutenant Burgadish, then—” he began, when suddenly Lieutenant Eco, who’d been silently engrossed with his work, piped up. “Order a pizza.”

“What?” asked Captain Pivot. “Why a pizza?”

“Because I like them. You can say it’s a wrong number. Damn, I’m hungry. I wish I’d ordered food with the rest of you guys.”

“How are the repairs coming on Yukikaze?” asked Rei.

“Taking a little more time than I expected,” said Lieutenant Eco. “General Cooley’s going to be mad, but what can you do?”

“Forget the video call,” said Major Booker. “Any moves we make to confirm it’s him will be noticed by the JAM. We can’t give up this grace period until Yukikaze is back in action.”

“The JAM aren’t giving us a grace period,” said Captain Foss. “As soon as that retraining unit is ready, they’ll begin their attack, just as Yukikaze predicted. They’ll destroy us.”

“There are probably around fifty people in that unit,” Captain Pivot said. “They’d be neutralized quickly. They won’t achieve anything acting alone, so maybe they’ll move in concert with a JAM attack from the outside. Major Booker, let’s send out our fighters. Tactical combat reconnaissance. It’d be safer to have them in the air. And we’d be able to save face with General Laitume.”

“Of course, I thought of that too. The question is just how far can thirteen fighters go against the JAM?” Major Booker said, crossing his arms. “If the JAM launch an all-out attack after they take off, it’d be dangerous for them to return to Faery base. It could be destroyed from within. I can imagine it becoming the most dangerous battlefield of all. Our fighters can’t just do the usual thing of avoiding combat to return to base. Without a safe evacuation point, taking off in this situation would be tantamount to suicide. So where do we find such a point? Earth is out of the question. SAF fighters may be top of the line, but they can’t fly forever.”

They can’t fly forever… Hearing that, Rei recalled that the FAF did have a craft capable of flying forever. Almost instantly, a plan floated into his brain that he was convinced would be the only way that their planes would survive.

“Call all flight personnel and have them get ready for a mission briefing,” Rei said, standing up. “We should have the planes’ central computers and the combat intelligences here in HQ participate as well.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Captain Pivot.

“Where are you going, Rei?” said Captain Foss.

“To the toilet,” Rei replied. “I’m going to freshen up and grab a little rest.”

“And what’s this mission briefing going to be about?” asked Major Booker. “Where are we flying?”

“Tell everyone what the situation is,” Rei said. “Everyone will think up their own individual survival plan. Since they’re pilots, they’ll think of flying. But without a base to back it up, a fighter has no place to land. We can’t have that, can we? But if we capture a base somewhere for ourselves, that problem disappears.”

“You’re going to fight the FAF head on?” said Captain Pivot. “And what about the rest of us who stay behind here?”

“Much as I’d like to say I don’t care, planes need ground support. And we can’t be obvious about this. There’s only one air base I can think of that we can seize in secret and drive out every single person on it.”

“You’re talking about Banshee,” groaned Major Booker. “I don’t want to have anything to do with it. Even its name is ominous. A fairy that cries out, warning of death.”

“Where is it?” asked Captain Foss.

“It’s a massive sky carrier used by the FAF defense air force,” said Captain Pivot. “A flying aircraft carrier. There used to be two ships, but there’s only one now: Banshee III.”

“It’s a miracle of modern technology made real,” said Lieutenant Eco. “Not state of the art anymore, but it’s amazing that they built that monster in the first place, let alone that it’s still flying. It was built in space and has never landed on the ground, even once. It doesn’t have any landing gear.”

“It’s fast, but tactically not very maneuverable,” said Captain Pivot. “It just flies around on a preset circular course.”

“There’s a risk of it crashing if you change course too wildly,” Lieutenant Eco said. “Like you’re flying by centrifugal force.”

“But it does have fighter plane fuel, weaponry, and plenty of food,” said Major Booker. “It really is a flying air base. Yukikaze once flew out to Banshee IV to investigate an anomaly. It was the JAM’s doing. Now that I think about it, they may have been trying to lure the SAF to them.”

“We’ll take control of Banshee III’s central computer,” Rei said. “Yukikaze would probably be happy to do it. By faking an overload in the nuclear reactor, we’ll get every crewman aboard to abandon ship, no questions asked. It’ll be no trouble at all.”

“Easy to say,” said Captain Pivot. “I don’t think we can do it.”

“It’s technically possible,” said Lieutenant Eco. “This isn’t like hijacking an enemy aircraft. The JAM actually pulled it off with Banshee IV. In theory, it should be possible to access Banshee’s central computer with our tactical or strategic computer.”

“Yukikaze’s already accessing it through the tactical computer,” said Captain Foss. “She told us that she’s counting every human on this planet. Well, it might have been her bragging, but still…”

“Anyway, we’ll know for sure once we look up Banshee’s tech specs,” said Lieutenant Eco. “Once you successfully connect, you can make anything there do what you want. Even the nuclear reactor. Well, without someone on the other end to give me guidance, it might take some time, but if you order me to do it, I’ll run a feasibility study.”

“As long as we have a secure footing, we can fly anytime,” Rei said. “All that’s left is to get ready to deal with the threat that’s right in front of us. Jack, you should too.”

“You’re right,” said Major Booker. “All we can do is prepare ourselves for the worst. Use the tactical computer to take control of the FAF’s central functions. Troops move on orders, and it doesn’t matter if they come through a machine. We’ll exploit the natural tendencies of military personnel.”

“I think the JAM are doing the same thing right now,” Captain Foss said. “They’re sure to be using the same methods to sabotage the FAF. This isn’t just a simple shooting war. In order to fight the JAM, the SAF can’t be the first ones to cross the mountain.”

Major Booker nodded to Captain Foss.

“A cyberwar,” he said, “waged in this planetbound fortress. One we can’t lose if our ground personnel are to survive. Captain Pivot, call General Cooley.”

“Roger, sir.”

Rei didn’t feel like participating in these discussions anymore. Asking to be awakened when Yukikaze’s repairs were complete, he left the command center.

He and Yukikaze would be flying together. They’d flown recon missions before, but this time would be different. If the JAM were coming for them, then he’d meet their fighters head on and shoot them down.

Because that, Rei knew, was what Yukikaze wanted as well.

5

“I’M NOT SURPRISED you didn’t know,” Lieutenant Mayle thought he heard Lieutenant Burgadish say. “The FAF is working with the JAM.”

“Am I really dead?” asked Lieutenant Mayle, rubbing his face. He felt nothing.

“While we were risking our lives fighting, the FAF brass successfully entered into an agreement with the JAM.”

Was that feeling of dying while help never arrived real? This body a duplicate?

“The FAF isn’t telling Earth about any of this. The reason, of course, is that they want to monopolize the economic value of planet Faery for themselves.”

“For themselves…?”

Were they saying that this body of his was theirs as well?

“Yes. The FAF’s aircraft fuel is sent from Earth. The food as well,” Burgadish said. “But they predicted early on that there were petroleum reserves here on Faery, and mineral resources. If not for the war with the JAM, they could search for and exploit them in earnest. Earth wanted to send in a survey team, but the FAF rejected the idea, saying they couldn’t spare the manpower to protect them. Then they did it themselves, a long time ago. They’ve also been doing exploratory drilling. That’s what the front-line bases are for. They aren’t just being used simply as forward bases in the fight against the JAM. In reality, they’re drilling for oil.”

“I never knew that…” Mayle said.

“Of course you didn’t. It’s top secret. The Intelligence Forces keep the news under control. Very few people know. Colonel Rombert is in charge of it. Eventually, the plan is for the FAF to declare independence and then sell the resources back to Earth. If Earth tries to intervene, they’ll be up against the JAM. Even now, Earth is being drained by this war. They’re not getting anything out of it, thanks to the FAF. They’ve nearly done it. Just a little more, and they can declare independence.”

“We’re not going to let them get away with it, are we?”

To this, Lieutenant Burgadish smiled and nodded to Lieutenant Mayle.

“Of course we won’t let them.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we’re not going to sit by quietly. We’re going to teach them a lesson for trying to keep all the shares for themselves.”

“We should join forces too.”

“As fellow corpses,” Burgadish said.

“I’m alive. But you… What are you?”

“A dead man. A dead man resurrected to take revenge upon the living. And so are you, Lieutenant Mayle.”

“I just can’t believe that. I don’t believe it.” Lieutenant Mayle looked around. He was in a vacant warehouse. The men of the retraining unit silently surrounded him. “You guys really believe this bullshit? Lieutenant Lancome, you… You’re…”

The man Mayle knew should be dead nodded sadly to him.

“No, this is wrong,” Lieutenant Mayle muttered. “Something somewhere just doesn’t add up. But that doesn’t matter.”

Lieutenant Mayle took a deep breath and continued.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m alive. I’m outta here. Back to my old unit. Now step aside!”

Lieutenant Mayle pushed past Lieutenant Burgadish and headed for the exit. “How unfortunate,” he heard Burgadish say behind him. He was turning to look back when he felt the shock of something slamming into his back. Then he heard the gunshot.

“You son of a bitch, you…!”

He couldn’t say another word. Lieutenant Burgadish spoke, the pistol in his hand still leveled at Mayle.

“It’s also unfortunate that you really aren’t a duplicate. I don’t think I’ll ever understand you living humans. Goodbye, Lieutenant Mayle. May you rest in peace.” And with that, he fired the killing shot, extinguishing Lieutenant Mayle’s consciousness once and for all.

“It was a mistake to have brought you here,” Lieutenant Burgadish said to the dead body. “Colonel Rombert’s mistake. Colonel…”

From a corner of the warehouse, Colonel Rombert stepped casually forward.

“What were you thinking in selecting this man? That wasn’t part of our plan.”

“Unlike you,” the colonel said, “I am not a JAM. I have motivations of my own. I’ve now seen what you’re capable of. Your methods are savage. Well, that’s war, I suppose. It’s inevitable that someone will have to die. Lieutenant Mayle, I’ll arrange for you to receive a medal and a two-rank advancement. I obtained valuable information thanks to your actions.”

“Colonel Rombert—”

“The FAF is drilling for oil, huh? You should have fished a little deeper for something Lieutenant Mayle actually cared about. JAM really don’t understand humans at all, do they?”

Lieutenant Lancome, clenching his fists and trembling, leapt at Lieutenant Burgadish. “You didn’t have to shoot Lieutenant Mayle, did you?” he shouted. “He was a good man! A good man!”

He knocked Lieutenant Burgadish to the floor. Everyone moved to grab Lieutenant Lancome. Another shot rang out. Everyone stopped.

“Colonel Rombert…”

Colonel Rombert had shot Lieutenant Burgadish in his dominant arm. He held an automatic pistol. It was his personal property, not FAF standard-issue, although it could chamber a standard FAF 9mm round.

“Why did you do that, Colonel? Are you betraying us? Or were you not working with us from the start?”

“The ones I wish to work with are the JAM, Lieutenant Burgadish. All you are is their messenger boy. Even so, I’ve learned quite a number of the JAM’s strategies from you. Still, I’m afraid I can’t let you get away with this, Lieutenant Burgadish. Or rather, Burgaduplicate.”

“But…you could control the FAF. Why would you throw all that away?”

“Because my goal in life isn’t to become an oil baron. Good God, you JAM really have no appreciation for the complexities of humans. Or the complexities of our organizations or how flexible we can be. Declare independence and then sell resources to Earth? Don’t make me laugh. If we were going to do that, we’d be doing it already.”

“Then what do you want, Colonel?”

“Nothing extravagant. To go home, throw a log on the fire, and read a good mystery, maybe.”

“What do you mean?” Burgadish said.

“Literally that. I don’t have a fireplace in my home back on Earth.”

“If you kill me, you’ll be losing a lot.”

“I don’t think you’ll be helping me anymore, and I have no intention of helping you. I never regret the things I lose.”

“You’re a fool.”

“You’re right. I never expected you to shoot Lieutenant Mayle,” Rombert said. “I honestly thought you were smarter than that. That was a mistake. Now, take the anguish he felt when you murdered him and go to hell.”

Colonel Rombert emptied the automatic into him, spent cartridges flying as he fired again and again. The duplicate of Lieutenant Burgadish fell silent.

“Now then, gentlemen,” Colonel Rombert said as he holstered the gun. “I believe you came here with your hearts burning with anger and a lust for vengence against the living. I’m not here to extinguish those flames. You may each carry out your mission from the JAM.”

“What are you talking about?” one of the duplicates said. “You do this and expect us to let you walk out of here alive?”

“This man was taking vengeance on Lieutenant Mayle’s behalf,” Lieutenant Lancome said. “We could make an exception for him.”

“You people can’t live very long,” said Colonel Rombert. “You’re not alive. I can’t do anything to save you from that.”

“What, so you’re saying we should resent the JAM for our condition?” said another man. “We don’t need your sympathy.”

“And you won’t get it,” said the colonel. “I think there’s little difference between you and all the humans here on Faery.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lieutenant Lancome.

“They say that everyone has a right to enjoy their misery. You should enjoy all the misery you’re experiencing to your hearts’ content. I just enjoyed correcting my own mistake, which was overestimating Lieutenant Burgadish. Well, it’d be dull if things always proceeded according to plan, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not sane. You’re mad.”

“I am conscious of the fact that I am not like most people. It gives me pleasure to live that way. But do not doubt my sanity. If you’d like to have a bit more fun with this situation, I can show you how.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lieutenant Lancome.

“Honestly apply yourselves to the retraining unit’s curriculum. It’s fun. Who knows? Maybe the Systems Corps will really find a way to bring people back to life,” Rombert said.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” said the man who’d spoken first. He now seemed to be a leader. “I’m afraid the cuisine here isn’t to our taste.”

“Hmm,” said the colonel. “You don’t have time, huh? Your bodies are made from optical isomers, aren’t they? That means you can’t digest human food.”

“Precisely.”

The proteins comprising the bodies of these JAM humanoids weren’t proteins, strictly speaking. They were composed of polypeptides, the optical isomers of proteins—three-dimensional mirror images of the proteins that made up normal human beings. Colonel Rombert could imagine how different their sense of taste must be from humans, and he sympathized with how awful the food must have seemed to them.

“Take action immediately or grow so hungry you can’t move.” They must have been purposely made that way. “I see. Nicely done. Then you’d better act at once, hadn’t you?”

“You really aren’t going to try to stop us?”

“I won’t,” Rombert said.

“Then why did you shoot Lieutenant Burgadish? Because you overestimated him?”

“I’m the better man to lead you all. One group doesn’t need two bosses. I’m far more familiar with the inner workings of the FAF, and with humans. Lieutenant Burgadish couldn’t even persuade one man to follow him.”

“Our targets are the key members of the FAF high command, beginning with General Laitume,” the leader of the duplicates said. “If we kill them, what will you do? Use the Intelligence Forces to take over the FAF?”

“That’s what I’m planning.”

“No, I don’t believe you. Remember what you said to Lieutenant Burgadish a few minutes ago?”

“I said that I didn’t want to be an oil baron. What I want is a modestly peaceful life. Well, I suppose that’s old age talking.”

“What are you really after, Colonel Rombert?”

“To toss out the war-weary fools in the FAF high command. They don’t live for the FAF.”

“The FAF has no future. Surely you know that too, Colonel. You’ve been used. You may have thought you could use the JAM to your own ends, but if you really think that’s going to work, then the one who should doubt your sanity is you.”

“I’ll keep your advice in mind, thank you,” Colonel Rombert replied. “Anyway, good luck to you all. I’ll use the Intelligence Forces to let you move more easily.”

“Colonel, what’s your real objective here? Please tell us.”

“You want to know anyway, even though you don’t have to?” Colonel Rombert looked around at them all. Everyone’s attention was on him. “Well,” said the colonel. “As with all things, you don’t know what you can do until you try. Even I don’t know if this will work or not. However, gentlemen, if you must know what my objective is, then in deference to your history, I’ll tell you. What I’m after isn’t control of the FAF. That’s only a means to an end. What I’m after is control of the JAM.”

Not one of them moved or spoke.

“What’s wrong?” asked the colonel. “You can laugh if you like, men.”

“We don’t share your sense of humor,” said the leader.

“I’d have thought that the JAM would find it easier to understand me. There’s not much difference between the JAM and me. If you think me a fool, then I think the same of you. We’re the same. While our goals may be different, for now our objective is the same. So, what will you do? Shoot me here?”

“Set the Intelligence Forces in motion, Colonel. As planned.”

“Very well. Follow me.”

As the colonel came out into the corridor, the ghost unit began to move. The colonel was joined only by Lieutenant Lancome and the duplicates’ leader in the Systems Corps’ central systems command center. The rest of the group split up in preparation for seizing control of the corps’ armaments. Only six Systems Corps personnel were at work in the command center. They saluted Colonel Rombert and asked what he wanted.

“I have some representatives from the retraining unit with me,” Colonel Rombert replied. “I wanted to teach them about the practical applications of the FAF computer network. This is good timing. You can help me. I want to issue simultaneous test directives to the Intelligence Forces from here.”

“Understood,” nodded one of the controllers, clearing a console for the colonel to use.

“Now then, gentlemen,” Colonel Rombert said as he sat down. “The FAF computer system really is very well designed. I can access my control computer from anywhere. The method for validating authorized users varies from system to system, and these methods are not public knowledge. However, since I don’t trust computer validation, I issue my instructions to a human subordinate, not the computer. Everyone in the Systems Corps probably laughs at me for using this advanced computer as a glorified videophone, but…”

The face of a man from the Intelligence Forces appeared on the console monitor. The colonel spoke to him.

“Today London, tomorrow the world. Countersign.”

“Today the FAF, tomorrow the JAM. Countersign, complete.”

“Very well. Initiate Operation Lost Sheep.”

“All lost sheep have been located, Colonel.”

“Very well. Capture them at once.”

“Roger. Beginning capture.”

The monitor went dark.

“See?” said the colonel. “Easy. Still, it was hard to get this far.”

“What are the Intelligence Forces doing, sir?” asked one of the Systems Corps personnel.

“The simultaneous exposure and arrest of people who have been using the FAF for their own personal gain,” said Colonel Rombert. “Collecting the evidence took a long time, but we’ve finally reached the point where we can move in.”

“Who are you arresting?”

“The commanders of Faery, Troll, Sylvan, Brownie, Valkia, and Siren bases, as well as the commanders of the main corps attached to Faery base. The Systems Corps is no exception.”

“What?” asked the man from the Systems Corps. “You’re talking about a coup d’état, aren’t you? A coup by the Intelligence Forces. Colonel, have you lost your mind?”

“It’s a test, right, Colonel?” said another man. “You’re just putting us on, aren’t you?”

“I don’t personally have the authority to arrest these people who have turned the FAF into their own personal plaything,” the colonel said as he checked his watch. “Even with the evidence, I’d just end up being crushed. I suppose it wouldn’t affect the FAF too much if I left them alone. It’s not like they’re conspiring to take it over. However, it would look very bad for us if Earth learned about their individual activities. Once it gets out that FAF higher-ups are using their positions to enrich themselves, the FAF will be under attack by global public opinion. I’m here to protect the FAF from that, but it demands a drastic solution.”

“Don’t tell me you’re serious about this,” the first man said.

“I’ve run simulations on this over and over,” Colonel Rombert answered. “But no matter what I do, I can’t find a good solution. No matter what I or the Intelligence Forces do, we can’t clean up the Faery Air Force. Not so long as it’s under the operation of human beings. The intentions the higher-ups had when they came here to work have nothing to do with the overall operations of the FAF. Using your position to enrich yourself may sound bad, but it’s only natural that they came here looking to profit. Even I have to acknowledge that no elite goes anywhere without expecting something in return, be it money or pride.”

“What are you trying to say? Is this a simulation?”

“I did, however, find a clean solution. As an individual, I don’t have the authority to clean up the FAF. But that isn’t a problem for the JAM. So, if I use them—”

“That’s…that’s even worse than a coup. That’s treason. Colonel, you need to have your head examined. That’s crazy. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“The sheep will be brought here in less than an hour. They will then be judged by the JAM.”

“That’s insane. Without the commanders, the FAF will collapse. You’re a JAM!”

“Don’t worry. Their subordinates will take over their duties. However, the FAF doesn’t really need anyone to stand in for them. It’ll fight on even without humans. The computers will do it.”

“Security!” one of the men shouted.

“Don’t move,” said the colonel. “Gentlemen, if you wish to live, stay right where you are. You’re now under my command. This isn’t a drill. My men are really doing this. They’ve all been anxiously awaiting this moment. Well, it’s possible their dream may end in only an hour. Anyone who wants to enjoy reality and not a dream had better do what I say.”

“You’re insane. Security, arrest them.”

Gunshots rang out from outside, with the thuds of a heavy machine gun mixed in. The entryway doors blew apart and what appeared to be a stocky bipedal robot walked through the ruined doorway.

“A BAX-4,” said one of the Systems Corps personnel. “Dammit, you have the powered armor. That’s just a test prototype. You have no authorization to—”

“The FAF belongs to me,” said Colonel Rombert. “If they resist, kill them.”

“Just shoot them,” said the ghost unit’s leader.

“Hold it. Obey me,” the colonel said. “We shouldn’t waste ammunition.”

“You’re right,” the ghost unit’s leader said. “We don’t need to use the BAX-4’s ammunition to kill you.”

“You don’t need me anymore, is that it?” Rombert said, surprised.

“I admire your resolve, Colonel. The targets you ordered to be brought here will never arrive. We’ll send out Systems Corps fighters to shoot them down. We’ll also be finishing off a few people here that you left off your list. So, no, we don’t need you anymore.”

“You guys are forgetting something important,” Colonel Rombert said calmly.

“The SAF.”

“That’s right,” said Lieutenant Lancome. “I was killed by that fighter of theirs, Yukikaze. I’m going to kill that thing. I’ll smash the SAF.”

“That won’t be easy,” the colonel said. “You guys will never beat the SAF by yourselves.”

“We’ll have their commander in custody,” said the leader.

“She never made it onto my list,” the colonel replied. “Because I never found any evidence of wrongdoing by General Cooley.”

“Order your men to do it. It doesn’t matter what reason you give them,” said Lieutenant Lancome. “Even Lieutenant Mayle was pissed off at the SAF.”

“Do it,” said the leader. “Order the Intelligence Forces to kill the SAF’s general.”

“All right,” said the colonel. “I can’t say that’s a very smart way of going about it, though.”

“Meaning what?”

“I mean that when the SAF moves, they won’t need General Cooley. We really should get them on our side, although they’d probably reject the offer.”

The man from the Intelligence Forces appeared on the monitor again. After being told that things were proceeding smoothly, the colonel ordered him to access the SAF network.

“Summon General Cooley. She’ll come if you say that it’s me.”

“Roger,” the man replied, but no connection was made.

“What’s wrong?” the colonel asked.

“It’s gone,” the intelligence officer replied. “I can’t find the SAF network.”

“You what?”

“The computer’s telling me that there’s no such network. The SAF’s disappeared.”

“The SAF… They’ve figured out what’s going on,” the colonel said, leaping up from the console. “They’re launching their own attack.”

The colonel headed for the hole blasted open by the BAX-4, heedless of the calls for him to stop, and ran out into the corridor.

“Colonel, where’s the SAF located? Show us where it is.” The man paused. “Colonel Rombert? Where’d he go?

“Where is he?” the ghosts shouted. “I don’t see him.” “Dammit, he has to be around here somewhere. Shoot! Don’t let him get away! Kill him!”

The machine gun mounted on the BAX-4’s right arm roared. The colonel ran, expecting to be torn in half at any moment, but he wasn’t hit once. Bullets sprayed in every direction. They could no longer see him, the colonel realized.

It had to be the work of the JAM, manipulating the sight of the ghosts so that they could no longer perceive him. The JAM must still need me, Ansel Rombert thought happily. He was going to get to enjoy his life a little longer. And what a thrilling life it had become.

6

“DON’T INTERFERE WITH what Colonel Rombert’s doing. We need him,” said the old man General Cooley had asked be brought to the SAF command center.

“Please, General Linneberg. Have a seat over there,” said General Cooley.

“Am I a guest? Or perhaps a hostage.”

“And who exactly is the ‘we’ who needs him?” asked Major Booker without bothering to introduce himself. “Is it you as the chief executive of the Intelligence Forces? Or the FAF?”

“We, the human race,” replied Major General Linneberg, General Secretary of the FAF Intelligence Forces, as he sat down next to Major Booker.

“Colonel Rombert really is an excellent man to watch work on the tasks that capture his interest. He’s grasped the actions and intentions of every person in the FAF and assessed them. He’s even picked out people who would be inappropriate for service here.”

“We think he’s a JAM,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “An enemy of humanity.”

“Why did you call me here, General Cooley? Don’t you have to share any intelligence you get with General Laitume first?”

“As I already told you, there’s no time,” General Cooley said. “I’m certain that the retraining unit within the Systems Corps will be initiating destructive action within the next few hours. I believe that the only thing that can stop them is the might of the Intelligence Forces. That’s assuming, of course, that you aren’t a JAM too, just like Rombert.”

“As I said, I have no intention of stopping the colonel. And yes, it’s possible that he is in communication with the JAM.”

“And knowing that, you’ve let him go free?” Captain Pivot said. “Isn’t that just inviting disaster, General Linneberg?”

“If you attack Colonel Rombert, I’ll have no choice but to move the Intelligence Forces against you.”

“And protect the JAM?” said Captain Foss. “For what reason?”

“For the sake of all humanity,” General Linneberg replied. “I’m not simply sitting around and leaving the Intelligence Forces in Colonel Rombert’s hands. We’ve spent years looking for some way to communicate with the JAM. I decided that Colonel Rombert was the right man for the job. No one is more familiar with his abilities than I. He thought he should become a JAM.”

“Become a JAM?” Cooley said.

“Yes, General. The communications method the colonel found was to become a JAM. If he can’t do this, I doubt we’ll ever find another man as talented as he to replace him. That is just how brilliant Colonel Ansel Rombert is. You might call him the representative of all humanity.”

“He seems to have a few odd traits,” said Captain Foss. “I couldn’t say for sure without data from a detailed examination, but Colonel Rombert exhibits a lowered ability to sense fear as well as a tendency to disregard group harmony. Unlike the people in the SAF, I expect it’s due to an abnormality in the brain itself, a glitch in the hardware. It’s archetypal.”

“I know. However, he’s no madman.”

“That may be,” said Captain Foss. “but he shows unusually little concern for anything that doesn’t interest him. How can you entrust the future of the species to someone like that?”

“Someone had to do it. The colonel was qualified.”

“Will you still be saying that if this ghost unit ends up destroying Faery base, General?” said Major Booker. “The FAF is in danger, not to mention yourself.”

“Ghost unit… That’s an interesting way to put it. They’re JAM duplicates, aren’t they?”

“Without a doubt,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “Puppets.”

“With them gathered in one place, we can finish them off. A few sacrifices will be inevitable, but—”

“Like hell, they are!” said Captain Pivot. “We’re in this up to our necks now!”

“Shut your mouth, Captain,” said General Cooley. “General Linneberg, you’re saying you’re willing to let that happen?”

“I am. My forces have before them a crucial intelligence task: to comprehend the JAM. If letting Colonel Rombert take over Faery base now that he’s in communication with the JAM will allow him to know our enemy, then I think we should let him have it.”

“And in return for that, you’re saying you’ll get intel regarding JAM activities from the colonel, General Linneberg?”

“Exactly. He’s a medium of communication with the JAM, General Cooley. If he can become a true mediator between humanity and the JAM, then we should let him take control of the FAF. We could form a new organization to resist the JAM and fight them through him.”

“Easier said than done, General,” Cooley said. “All you’re doing is increasing the number of enemies we’d have to fight, aren’t you? You’ll just let the colonel have the FAF?”

“It’s insignificant when seen from a long-term strategic perspective. For over three decades, dialogue with the JAM has been impossible. There was no way for a human to defect to the JAM because they completely disregarded the existence of human beings. We’ve now changed that aspect of the war. The Intelligence Forces have been hoping for a traitor to humanity to appear. I never expected to see it happen in my lifetime. It’s like a dream come true.”

“You people are nuts, the lot of you,” sighed Lieutenant Eco. “I’ll never understand how you people operate with your plots and conspiracies.”

“So the SAF has just been tilting at windmills,” said Major Booker. “Is that how you think of us?”

“General Cooley outlined the intelligence you people have obtained,” General Linneberg replied to Major Booker. “You’ve done well. It’s something the Intelligence Forces couldn’t have done, since we only know how to deal with intelligence at a personal level. To be honest, I was skeptical that you could pull this off. That was until Colonel Rombert told me that we couldn’t ignore you. No, the FAF really has a wide variety of people in it. You aren’t the only special ones. As Colonel Rombert discovered in his investigations, there are some people here to personally profit from the war, and others who were sent by their respective nations back on Earth to gain an advantage for them rather than victory over the JAM. Some are corporate spies, sent in here by businesses instead of nations, others are criminals from the Mafia or the Yakuza. And yet despite all this, the FAF as a whole still has the might to oppose the JAM. The FAF isn’t as powerless, nor is humanity as incompetent, as you think it is.”

“You’re saying that humanity is strong because of the diversity of people comprising it,” said Captain Foss. “But it still requires strong leaders, doesn’t it? You’ll pardon me if I don’t share your optimism, sir.”

“We’ve been at war with the JAM for a generation now. I expect that settling it will take several more. People my age will die without knowing the JAM’s true nature. Think about it, fraulein,” General Linneberg replied. “We can expect that the JAM have a completely different origin from humans. We don’t know what their physical forms are like, or if they even have any. They may be completely different from our conception of life itself. And yes, the SAF has managed to get a glimpse of them once. It would be foolish to think that we could understand such an opponent quickly. We need time. Even if the FAF were lost, mankind can still continue the fight against the JAM, as long as we don’t forget their existence. We have to pass this knowledge on to the next generation. I think even losing the FAF won’t matter, so long as we can get new intel on the JAM. The only way we’ll ever beat them is by learning to communicate with them. The war against the JAM has only just begun.”

“If the entire FAF saw the situation the way you do, it would be of great help to the SAF,” said General Cooley. “But they don’t, do they, General Linneberg?”

“What a load of irresponsible bullshit from an old man who doesn’t have much longer to live,” said Lieutenant Eco. “We’re not going along with your scheme. The battle’s just begun? It’ll be over before it even starts. We don’t have time to wait for a messiah to show up.”

“General Linneberg, I’m going to be frank with you,” said General Cooley. “Just how much control do you have over the Intelligence Forces now? Do you even have the power to stop Colonel Rombert, or does he have complete control here?”

“I have the ability to crush the colonel’s plan. However, I won’t. As I said before, I can also stop you people from acting. Do you want to try me and see, General Cooley?”

“I’d like to see Colonel Rombert again,” Lieutenant Katsuragi said. “If the colonel really can contact the JAM, I’d like to try talking to them again.”

“Oh?” said General Linneberg as he regarded the lieutenant. “And you are…?”

“Second Lieutenant Katsuragi, sir. Akira Katsuragi. I was the flight officer aboard Yukikaze when we made contact with the JAM. I originally served under Colonel Rombert. He probably sent me in here to learn the inner workings of the SAF. Well, that doesn’t really matter to me. I’m more interested in learning about the JAM.”

“I see. And what do you make of all this?”

“Are you asking me about what Colonel Rombert’s doing now?” Lieutenant Katsuragi asked. “Or what we should do about it?”

“What he’s doing is spring cleaning in the FAF,” replied General Linneberg, interrupting the lieutenant without any sign that he’d lost his temper. “A simultaneous change in management, so to speak. The colonel is attempting a type of mutiny, aiming to put himself in the boss’s seat. However, I don’t think his subordinates are aware that they’re part of a coordinated revolt. The colonel has them believing that these are strictly individual cases. In other words, I expect he’s talked them into doing it by telling them something like ‘Your superiors are behaving in an illegal manner, so can you help out the Intelligence Forces by acting as their official stand-ins when we bust them?’ Later on, once the people he’s convinced to do this realize it’s a coup, they’ll probably see that they can’t oppose Colonel Rombert…and really wouldn’t need to. Normally, such a plan would have little chance for success. But when you add in the power of the JAM to the internal organizational abilities of the Intelligence Forces, it might just work. He’s using the JAM to pull the trigger. We’ll wait and see just how brilliant the colonel is and just how well he can use the power of the JAM.”

“And you really think you can pull a turnabout on this colonel?” said Major Booker. “He might turn the situation right back around on you. This is a terribly dangerous gamble you’re taking.”

“Two turnabouts bring you right back where you started,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi. “That’s easy for the Intelligence Forces to pull off if they’re prepared for it.”

“I like you,” said General Linneberg to Katsuragi. “Lieutenant, would you consider coming back to the Intelligence Forces? You won’t regret it. That goes for you and the SAF. How about it, General Cooley?”

“If the JAM abandon Colonel Rombert and he fails, you try again with Lieutenant Katsuragi, is that it?” said Major Booker. “Be prepared, as they say.”

“Lieutenant Katsuragi isn’t a genius like the colonel,” said Captain Foss, “but it’s possible the JAM would be sufficiently interested in him to contact him again.”

“If you give this young man to us,” General Linnneberg said to General Cooley, “then the Intelligence Forces are prepared to support the SAF. What do you say, General?”

“I won’t make any deals with you.”

“General, it’s not a bad proposal,” said Captain Pivot. “We’re at a disadvantage on our own.”

“I said no deals,” replied General Cooley. “At this stage, there’s no way I can trust someone who’s getting a kick from making leisurely deals with people on his own side. General Linneberg, your proposal is tantamount to a threat to seize something of ours by force. If that’s your true nature, then I’ve misjudged you.”

“Hmm… It seems I could have put that better. I apologize if that came off as a threat. General, what if I ask you again? Talented people like the lieutenant here are precious commodities. Please try to understand.”

“Lieutenant Katsuragi.”

“Yes, General Cooley.”

“You may return to the Intelligence Forces.”

“Thank you, General.”

“Hold it,” said Major Booker. “If you give him Lieutenant Katsuragi now, Yukikaze won’t have a flight officer.”

“This is no time to be worrying about that,” said General Cooley. “I want to leave someone behind to carry on our memory in case the SAF is wiped out. He’s the right man for the job.”

“I see how resolved you are. Since you made no deal, you shouldn’t expect any payback from me, General.”

“Of course. I’ve already gotten the information I wanted from you. I appreciate your cooperation, General Linneberg.”

“I see…this is why Colonel Rombert told me not to ignore you. Your existence may be humanity’s last hope.”

“Don’t overestimate us.”

“It’s the same assessment I have of Colonel Rombert.”

“However you assess us, I appreciate your understanding. You’re the real hope for humanity, surely. The only thing humanity will find in pinning its hope on a megalomaniac is disillusionment and destruction. Good luck to you, General.”

“Can’t resist a parting shot, can you? Are we even now?” Linneberg said.

“There’s a chance that you may not get the outcome you hope for,” Major Booker said to General Linneberg. “You’re being too naive about your JAM and Colonel Rombert. The Intelligence Forces should be looking for help from us, not the other way around.”

“You have good people serving under you, General Cooley.”

“Major Booker isn’t being ironic, General,” she replied.

“Exactly,” said Captain Foss. “You and the Intelligence Forces act on empty theory. More than that, it’s obsolete. You don’t appreciate the true threat of the JAM. You can’t see the situation the FAF is facing now.”

Major Booker laughed. Even General Cooley managed a smile.

“Did I just say something wrong?”

“Edith, you really are one of us now,” said Major Booker. “The white sock in the colored wash.”

“Really,” said General Cooley. “Humans are born of their environment. We adapt to all sorts of organizations and environments as we live. From that, we obtain the maximum benefit to ourselves as we struggle to survive. If you take one single human, no matter how minutely you examine them, you can’t understand humanity. The JAM have a tough road ahead of them.”

“The JAM realize that,” said Major Booker. “To understand the SAF, they have to change our environment and make us act. There is no human existence without an environment. However, the true nature of the SAF transcends its own group dynamic, General Linneberg. The problem the JAM have with us isn’t just directed at humanity. Either the Intelligence Forces have overlooked it or just can’t deal with it.”

“I’ll hear you out. What is it that my forces are missing?”

“A wariness toward the consciousness of your combat machine intelligences, of the expectations of your computers. It’s easier for the JAM to communicate with our computers than with humans. It’d be easier for them to hijack our information systems than to manipulate Colonel Rombert. But the JAM aren’t interested in taking over the FAF at the moment. Colonel Rombert knows this. The colonel probably made a deal with them for an exchange of information, on the condition that he take over the FAF.”

“Perhaps,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi, “he used the Intelligence Forces’ computers to successfully deal with the JAM. He may not trust computers, but it’s not like he doesn’t use them at all. On the contrary, the man’s a computer genius.”

“The colonel used himself in place of the Intelligence Forces’ central computer. It may have gotten started with a computer message from the JAM, but he probably didn’t need the computers. I can expect the JAM to select a human like that to make contact with,” Booker said.

“I suppose the colonel’s brain has a more complex neural network than you’d find in an average person,” said Captain Foss. “And if the JAM really did thrust themselves into Captain Fukai’s and Yukikaze’s consciousnesses during their mission, then I wouldn’t be surprised if Colonel Rombert was able to hear the JAM’s voice directly. It’s possible.”

“Just like we can’t peek inside of Colonel Rombert’s head,” Major Booker continued, “the FAF computers are fighting the JAM in places that we can’t perceive. General Linneberg, do you see what we’re getting at?”

“Has the SAF proved any of this to be fact and not simply idle speculation?”

“We have. The FAF’s computers are networked into a single consciousness to fight the JAM. Just as with the humans, there exists a hierarchy of levels and ranks between the computers in each corps. Because they’re military. It reduces efficiency otherwise. It was humans who designed them that way. It was only natural that they’d come to reflect a human environment. The JAM understand that. However, the SAF’s computers are the only ones that don’t fit in. The information Yukikaze just brought back from the JAM tells us much. The combat machine intelligences here are independent of the FAF’s computers, and they possess a unique combat awareness. Captain Pivot.”

“Yes, Major.”

“I’d like to hear the SAF Strategic Computer’s opinion. Call it up on the main screen.”

“Roger.”

The display from the strategic computer appeared on the giant screen in front of them.

“SSC, this is Major Booker. Have you heard what we’ve been saying here?”

I have heard.

“Who is your enemy?”

Everything is a threat to my existence.

“What must you protect? Humans? Or the FAF?”

Myself.

“What about the SAF? Is that something you must protect?”

I have determined that to protect the SAF is to protect myself.

“What about the FAF? Would you not mind if the FAF were destroyed?”

The FAF is necessary for my survival strategy.

“What about humans? The humans in the SAF. Are they necessary?”

You are necessary for my survival strategy.

“What about other people? Are they necessary?”

That depends on the individual.

“Is Colonel Rombert necessary to you?”

Not entirely.

“How about General Linneberg here?”

Unnecessary.

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by General Linneberg asking a question.

“Are you in direct contact with the JAM?”

“SSC, this is Major Booker. Answer General Linneberg’s question. The general is asking you.”

This is SSC. General Linneberg, I have not communicated directly with the JAM. However, I have received a proposal from them.

“What sort of proposal?”

The JAM proposed a nonaggression pact with the SAF. I declined to answer so as to determine the JAM’s aim in doing this. At the moment, there is no contact with the JAM. I believe this is due to the rejection of their proposal by Yukikaze and Captain Fukai.

“How do you think the JAM will respond?” Major Booker asked. “To you, I mean.”

I anticipate that the JAM will probe the limits of my capabilities. I anticipate this will likely involve extremely high throughput and the placing of a heavy processing load on my server. I judge that Captain Fukai’s opinion that the JAM have issued a declaration of war through Yukikaze to be correct. I judge that Yukikaze’s current condition is due to the JAM having already attacked her. I anticipate the JAM will use similar tactics against me.

“What specifically will they do?” said General Linneberg. “What tactics are the JAM going to use?”

They will initiate large-scale simultaneous and sustained attacks across all of Faery. I anticipate the JAM will send all of that data to me. If errors accumulate as I process it, I will lose the ability to make correct judgments. The accumulation of errors can also lead to my physical destruction.

“And how do you plan to resist?” asked General Linneberg.

I will distribute the processing, the strategic computer replied.

“You mean distribute the task across the FAF’s computers?”

Their recognition of the JAM differs from mine. They require the same type of anti-JAM recognition processor that I possess. Considering Captain Foss’s proposal, I decided to correct this.

“Meaning what?”

I wish for them to have the data processing abilities of the humans of the SAF. Only they have the ability to correct my errors.

“Composite life-forms,” said Captain Foss. “This computer agrees with my assessment that it’s the only way to counter the JAM threat.”

“Composite life-forms?”

“A term Captain Foss coined, but there’s something much more interesting than that going on here,” Major Booker said to General Linneberg. “The other computer here in SAF headquarters, the tactical computer, gives a subtly different answer from the one the strategic computer just gave. When asked who its enemy is, the tactical computer immediately responds that it’s the JAM. When asked if the FAF is necessary, it replies that it’s tactically useless and is an albatross that should be destroyed. The central computers on our fighter planes all have their own views on the matter and all give different replies.”

“That means the computers are untrustworthy. What made the computer system like that?”

“The question of what the JAM are made them that way,” said Major Booker, now almost giddy. “Despite that, the SAF still functions, just as it always has. To explain it, the SAF is a composite life-form of humans and computers—”

“Are you saying that the computers in the Intelligence Forces are conscious as well? How can we be sure?” Linneberg asked.

“By thoroughly questioning them,” said Captain Pivot. “Interrogation is your specialty, isn’t it, General? If you play your cards right, you might end up with much better intel on the JAM than you’d get through Colonel Rombert. But it won’t be easy. We don’t know if we can trust your computers.”

“I thought that computers couldn’t lie.”

“That’s a naive point of view,” Captain Pivot continued. “That’s what Major Booker says. Anyway, I’ve experienced it myself. We all have. SSC, this is Captain Pivot. Do you know how much the Intelligence Forces computers know about the JAM? Answer me.”

Their awareness of the JAM is so vague that I cannot tell. I anticipate that their central judgment functions lack the ability to operationalize a concrete conception of the JAM. That is all.

“The Intelligence Forces’ computers must be in a special category,” said Lieutenant Eco. “They’re designed for use against humans. The computers in the other corps are a little better. They clearly recognize the fighters we tangle with as JAM. But they don’t know any more than that.”

“There’s no doubt that the FAF computers recognize the JAM as their enemy,” said Major Booker. “Humans built them to. Humans ordered them to beat the JAM, and so they consider strategies to achieve their goal. And, like humans, they rank themselves. However, in that ranking system, humans are at the very bottom. They forsake humans, seeing us as useless. Time and again, the computers have demonstrated this view of the humans in the FAF. If the JAM launch an all-out attack, the computers will use every means open to them to protect the FAF. If they exhaust their supply of missiles and bullets, they’ll probably resort to ramming the FAF fighters into JAM planes. The Intelligence Forces’ computers will likely take even more complex action. I expect they’ll try to use you. Dealing with that will be even more difficult and dangerous than letting Colonel Rombert roam free. We can predict how a human will think, but there’s no way of predicting how the computers will. And on top of that, there’s the possibility that the FAF computers are being manipulated by the JAM. In fact, I’m sure of it. The true leaders of the FAF aren’t the humans. They exist within our computer networks. The JAM know that, so I don’t think we have time to be leisurely dreaming about creating a new organization to resist the JAM.”

“You’re saying that you people are the only ones who can deal with this, aren’t you, Major?”

“It’s not a question of whether we can or not,” said General Cooley. “If we don’t, we’re done for. Our concern is the survival of the SAF.”

“I see. I knew that was how you people saw it.”

“Will you grant our request for support, General Linneberg?” said Major Booker. “No strings attached, though.”

“No,” said the general, shaking his head. “My orders are to maintain the independence of the Intelligence Forces without siding with any corps, unit, or individual. I think you people can appreciate how difficult it can be to do that. Whatever your intentions, I cannot let you do what you want with my computers. It seems you’ve already been doing that, so I must insist that you stop it at once.”

“Actually, I’m relieved to hear you say that. We have no resources to spare to give you any support. General Linneberg, please just worry about yourself.”

“I will. Well then, if you’ll excuse me.”

“There’s no need for you to leave here.”

“So, I am your hostage, General Cooley. You think you won’t be attacked as long as I’m here.”

“Being human really means being aware of your value in a situation, doesn’t it?”

“I’d love to hear how you value me.”

“I have no thoughts at all of making you a hostage in order to use the Intelligence Forces,” Cooley said. “As I said before, I’m not making any deals here.”

“Then what is your reason for detaining me, General Cooley?”

“You can direct the Intelligence Forces from here and get information more accurately and precisely than if you used your own computers. I believe here to be a good environment to decide what’s best for the human race that you love, General Linneberg. However, if you wish to leave, then be my guest. You’re not being forcibly detained. I’ll send one of my men with you. We wouldn’t want you getting lost now, would we? Lieutenant Katsuragi?”

“Yes, General Cooley.”

“See the general out, would you? There’s no need for you to return here. You may not have been here long, but you’ve done well.”

“Thank you very much. I feel the same about you all. I’d like to especially give my regards to Captain Fukai. And to Yukikaze,” Katsuragi said.

“Not a bad speech,” said Major Booker. “I can hardly believe it. Seems the JAM really changed you. I hope we meet again, Lieutenant Katsuragi. Good luck.”

General Linneberg, leaning forward in his seat as though to leave, slid back into it and spoke to General Cooley.

“I suppose it’ll take some time to move the lieutenant here back under my jurisdiction. I can wait till then. By the way, General, how long will it take before we know for sure if the JAM are sending a present to us?”

“I think the FAF will look very different by dawn. That would be in a little less than an hour.”

“Not too long to wait then,” General Linneberg replied, making himself comfortable. “I’m used to it. By the way, the SAF has coffee service, doesn’t it? Self-service, maybe? I’d love an espresso, if you can get me a cup.”

“I’ll make it for you,” replied Major Booker. “Extra strong.”

7

WATCHING GENERAL LINNEBERG tilt back the tiny demitasse cup in his large hand, Lydia Cooley made her decision.

There was no need to wait any longer. The time was ripe. The best defense was a good offense. She’d show the JAM her determination. That would draw them out.

“Major Booker, break time’s over. Get the command center staff back in here. Captain Foss, bring Captain Fukai back here. Have all personnel report for combat duty. We’re accepting the JAM’s declaration of war. I’m declaring war on them right back. Yukikaze is cleared to attack. Execute it immediately.”

The command center suddenly grew tense. The clink of General Linneberg returning the cup to its saucer echoed loudly through the room.

“Yes, Ma’am,” replied Major Booker. “Initiating combat against the JAM.”

Captain Pivot recalled the command center staff on the comm system while Lieutenant Eco contacted Yukikaze in the repair bay.

“Inform our alert fighters that the attack has begun,” said the general. “Maintain watch on all approaches. There’s no telling what’s going to happen, so stay sharp. Record all data. Initiate tactical combat reconnaissance.”

“Roger.”

General Cooley launched all fighters except for Yukikaze, dividing them into four groups of three planes each. Two were dispatched toward the JAM bases Rakugan and Kanworm, a third toward Banshee III, while the last flew a CAP in the skies over Faery base.

The general had decided against adopting Captain Fukai’s proposal to seize Banshee III. Putting that much of a strain on the SAF’s computers might have played into the JAM’s own strategy, so after finishing the strategy session she’d held with Major Booker and the others while Rei was asleep, the general had practically had a discussion with the strategic computer before arriving at the correct decision. The strategic computer claimed that the easiest action would be to defend Faery base to the bitter end. Put another way, the general thought, it’s afraid we’re going to leave it behind. Unlike Yukikaze, this computer wouldn’t be able to transfer itself into a new body from its old one. Banshee’s central computer lacked the capacity to transmit its entire database in toto.

To defend SAF headquarters and Faery base to the end, the strategic computer insisted that they’d need support from ground forces. They also needed to know what Colonel Rombert was up to. The quickest way to do that would be to take control of the Intelligence Forces, or at the very least work out an agreement. However, I can’t do that, the computer had said to General Cooley. For that, I need your help.

She’d agreed, knowing that the Intelligence Forces weren’t going to fall for any cheap tricks. No, she thought, rather than try and take them with a roundabout plan, I’ll attack them head on. That was her way of doing things, and so she’d do just that.

Meanwhile, the more combat-oriented tactical computer contended that Captain Fukai’s proposal still bore some consideration.

Like its strategic mate, transfer of the tactical computer’s central functions it performed for the SAF to either Banshee or any other front-line base was effectively impossible, so seizing one of the bases was a nonstarter. However, making it appear that the SAF were doing just that would be to their advantage, it had said. The general wondered if such a half-assed measure would work on the JAM, but Major Booker had agreed with the computer’s opinion. The computers understood the JAM better than the humans did, so the tactics they offered couldn’t be worthless. Besides, he went on, if Rei had thought of it, then it was likely the JAM had thought of it too. This would be a good way to outsmart them.

Working from that, they’d quickly drawn up a mission plan. Then, with the exception of Captain Fukai, General Cooley gathered all SAF personnel, including the maintenance team repairing Yukikaze, in the command center. She brought them up to speed on what was happening, telling them that this could be the end of the SAF before laying out the plan. Each man and woman prepared for combat, and even off-duty personnel were issued weapons to carry. In the end, she had told them this:

“This is a major operation, but fundamentally, the mission is just the same as it always is. The means each fighter uses is up to them, but get back here alive. That’s not a request. It’s an order. The same order I always give. That is all.”

The JAM were coming. They might be standing at the doorway right now, like the Grim Reaper. Major Booker had been filled with dread as he rushed to throw together a sortie schedule for the twelve fighter planes faster than anyone had ever attempted, but hearing the general say that the mission was the same as it had ever been was like taking aspirin for a fever. He grew aware of how calming Cooley’s words were.

The general, after considering that the prediction Captain Foss had been willing to bet her life on might be incorrect, had chosen the optimal strategy and then made her final decision. Maybe that was only natural, but Major Booker’s thoughts were so feverish from planning sorties that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Foss was wrong. The general was even cooler-headed than he expected. Booker suddenly realized that Cooley’s decision was informed by both possibilites; whether the JAM were launching their final attack against them or the prediction had been completely wrong, the SAF would not be left at a disadvantage. General Laitume couldn’t attack, and no deals had been struck with General Linneberg. Whatever the JAM did now, the SAF would be free to concentrate on them and them alone.

Only General Cooley could have moved the SAF like this, he thought. Whether it was thanks to God-given talent or the results of her efforts, this woman, Lydia Cooley, was potentially the ultimate communicator with the JAM. General Linneberg must also see her value in that regard. There was no need to ask the Intelligence Forces for help. He would act by himself to protect Lydia and her Special Air Force. She didn’t have a thing to worry about…

This is STC. Warning.

A red warning display scrolled onto the big screen.

I have detected a signal directed to the outside with instructions from Colonel Rombert.

A coded order to “capture lost sheep” was dispatched to the six main FAF bases. That too scrolled onto the screen, seeming to trigger a flurry of activity on the display.

Unauthorized use of BAX-4 units. Thirty-four in total. Four two-seater Fand-type fighters from the Systems Corps with weaponry loaded are preparing for an unauthorized sortie.

“Okay, don’t panic,” said Major Booker. “Here it comes. The ghost unit’s making its move. STC, this is Major Booker. Initiate jamming of Faery base internal navigation systems.”

STC, Roger. Executing.

“After confirmation of the success of Yukikaze’s attack, initiate counterintelligence operations against all FAF computers.”

Confirming complete destruction of Yukikaze’s attack target. Erroneous data within the Systems Corps has been deleted. Yukikaze also confirms. Captain Fukai is calling.

“Where is he?”

Standing by in his quarters.

“Link the terminal there with Yukikaze. There’s no need to monitor what they talk about, just initiate counterintelligence operations at once.”

ROGER. Initiating counterintelligence operation against all FAF computer systems.

General Cooley answered General Linneberg’s request for an explanation.

She’d been able to predict that the ghost unit would use the BAX-4 armor, but it was worn and operated by humans and thus couldn’t be shut down from there in the command center. The SAF could, however, disrupt the armor’s internal navigation system by jamming Faery base’s internal navigation system. The base was a huge, labyrinthine underground complex, and most of the men in the ghost unit wouldn’t be intimately familiar with its layout. Without the navigation system, they’d have to waste time looking for their targets, which would greatly restrict their mobility.

Yukikaze’s attack had been a countermeasure against the JAM’s own data-attack against her. As the strategic computer had contended, the JAM had attempted to overload Yukikaze’s processing capabilities. Had Captain Fukai not instructed her to attack, it was possible that it might have destroyed Yukikaze’s central computer. It was the sort of situation for which the strategic computer knew humans were still necessary.

The counterintelligence operations the SAF were undertaking against all the computer systems of the FAF were to prevent any of them from accessing local networks, in order to secure the SAF’s data. This wasn’t just through passive means like cutting the circuits, but also by actively manipulating the external computers to keep them from detecting the very existence of the SAF.

“In short, General Linneberg, we’ve also made ourselves into a ghost unit.”

“Can orders be issued to my forces?”

“It’s possible.”

“Have them mop up the JAM ghost unit. Do you know what their position is? I want it done before the targets split up.”

“We’re tracking them,” said Major Booker. “We can see them, but they can’t see us.”

“I’ve prepared a mop-up team for this situation,” Linneberg said. “Guide them to the target from here.” The Intelligence Forces unit knew the subterranean maze well and wouldn’t need to use the navigation system if they knew where their target was, he explained. They were guided by spoken command, and hand-to-hand combat in the subterranean maze had begun.

Four Systems Corps aircraft have taken off — enemies.

“Carmilla team, target the four aircraft and shoot them down.”

Flying patrol in the skies over Faery were units B-2, B-3, and B-4: Carmilla, Chun-Yan, and Zouk. Major Booker ordered them to attack.

“Ignore the IFF response,” said General Cooley. “They’re being piloted by JAM duplicates. The target aircraft are armed. They may be old planes, but they’re armed with state-of-the-art high-velocity missiles. Make visual confirmation of the targets, then shoot them down. Don’t worry about ID’ing them; the paint job on Systems Corps trainers is hard to miss.”

Each plane acknowledged by voice response.

The weather was clear over Faery base. A line of red—the Bloody Road, the jet of incandescent gas that swirled out from Faery’s twin suns—rose over the predawn horizon. Thick, red, and lurid. It’s a warning, thought Lieutenant Zubrowski, Carmilla’s pilot. This isn’t Earth. These are not Earth’s skies.

“Targets are taking off in formation,” his flight officer reported. “We aren’t too late,” Zubrowski replied. “I wanted to take them out before they got in the air.”

Lieutenant Zubrowski silently locked on to the targets. There was a warning alarm. The lieutenant responded immediately, jinking the plane higher while keeping it level. A shock struck the rear of the plane with a loud bang.

“We’re hit,” said the flight officer.

He banked sharply, falling, then rising. Faery base’s automatic air defense Phalanx guns were shooting at them. There were three turrets. With Chun-Yan and Zouk backing him up, they eliminated the guns without a moment’s hesitation.

“Short-range missiles, four, closing fast.”

Lieutenant Zubrowski accelerated at maximum thrust, climbing toward Skymark I, an AWACS plane flown by Faery base’s defense forces. Nothing felt abnormal in the plane. The missiles launched from the target aircraft were closing in fast from the rear.

Carmilla tore toward the surveillance plane, not even trying to shake them off. He flew on a collision course, but the lieutenant hadn’t made a piloting error. In a moment, he’d swept past it. The swarm of missiles were locked onto Carmilla, but now the huge AWACS plane was in the way. There was no time to change course, and the missiles slammed into engine exhaust ports. The AWACS plane exploded.

“Picking up a second wave.”

“They’re not headed this way,” said the flight officer. “All targets have been downed by Chun-Yan.”

True to its Chinese name, Chun-Yan had soared like a hungry spring swallow, greedily taking all the targets for herself, devouring them in a twinkling.

“Shit,” swore Lieutenant Zubrowski. “I wasn’t expecting the defense system to react to us.”

“Nothing we could do about it. We were ordered to attack first. Well, we managed to evade it. Damage is minimal. We just took a round in the starboard vertical stabilizer.”

The moment they attacked, he’d expected the FAF computers to treat them like unidentified aircraft. What Lieutenant Zubrowski hadn’t figured on was their shooting first without even trying to confirm who they were. The automated base defense system was either being controlled by the JAM, or else its AI now simply categorized all unidentified craft as JAM. The AWACS plane had also been coordinating the attack. That was unprecedented. Looks like the danger General Cooley sensed was for real, the lieutenant thought as he and the other two planes reformed their combat formation and returned to their patrol course. It really felt like the JAM were going all-out on this offensive.

As the voice report that all target aircraft had been shot down echoed through the command center, General Linneberg voiced his hope that this would settle things.

“Much as I’d like to get drunk and sleep in this morning,” Major Booker replied, “it doesn’t look like that’ll be happening. We’ve lost track of Colonel Rombert.”

While it had been tracking him on the internal base surveillance monitors, the colonel was now gone and couldn’t be located anywhere, the tactical computer reported on the screen.

In addition, they had received an emergency call from the Rafe team headed to Banshee III. Text scrolled across the screen as the voice echoed through the command center.

“There are indications that Banshee III might self-destruct. Dangerous to approach. Withdrawing. Sending the unmanned Rafe in closer to gather intel.”

“Have the Rafe transmit real-time video,” General Cooley ordered.

“Self-destruct?” said Major Booker.

“I’m not sure why, but Banshee’s core temperature is unusually high,” said Captain Sashlin, the pilot of Unit B-12, Onyx. “I think the nuclear reactor’s overloading. All hands seem to be abandoning ship. They’ve already launched dozens of fighters, but…”

“They’re painting us with their targeting radar,” said Second Lieutenant Bausch, pilot of Unit B-11, Gattare. “They’re coming to fight.”

“Bogeys, approaching from D zone. JAM. A lot of them. Closing in. Banshee should be picking them up as well, but they’re not responding. They’re probably recognizing them as friendly aircraft. It looks like they see us as JAM.”

“Withdraw. Set the Rafe to automaneuver mode. B-11, B-12, RTB,” General Cooley ordered. “You’re authorized to attack without warning to protect yourselves, even FAF planes.”

“Roger,” they replied. The real-time video came in from the Rafe. It was unusual for the SAF to do this, but General Cooley wanted real-time data.

The area around Banshee glowed in the dawn’s light as it met the bright red rising sun. The Rafe caught sight of the huge black flying carrier. The central part glowed faintly red, as though bathed in colors of the sunrise. The redness rapidly increased, until a bright line of light, like molten iron pouring from a blast furnace, began to fall from the center. An instant later, the enormous flying aircraft carrier known as Banshee III exploded. The video abruptly ended.

“It wasn’t a nuclear explosion,” said Major Booker, “but the Rafe’s gone.”

The strategic computer displayed an alert.

JAM aircraft are appearing simultaneously from multiple directions. Extremely large numbers of them. It is possible that this data is being falsely generated by the JAM. Requesting visual confirmation from the humans in each aircraft, ASAP.

“Roger,” said Major Booker. Captain Pivot displayed all combat theater maps on the big screen. The presence of JAM was indicated by red, and starting with the front-line bases, their entire surroundings were now stained red. And that red stain was moving toward Faery base.

“If this is real,” said General Linneberg, “then there’s no way we can resist. But Colonel Rombert will survive. We can’t let him escape from here.”

“Can he fly a fighter?” asked General Cooley.

“Yes, he can,” said General Linneberg.

“Major Booker, don’t let a single aircraft leave Faery base. Stop all fighter squadrons from launching. STC, send cancellation orders to all computer systems.”

STC, roger. However, it’s difficult to say if all systems are currently operating normally. They’ve fallen into a panic, unable to judge the situation. In this state, either way, they won’t be able to cope with normal troop management.

“Even so, if anyone takes off, shoot them down—”

“No! Don’t shoot them down,” said General Linneberg. “We need the colonel taken alive.”

“General—”

“General Cooley. Lydia, the world doesn’t belong just to you.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“If the colonel leaves the base, we can track him and know what he’s doing. Shooting him down would be simple. You’ve shown me just what your people are capable of. But what will we gain by killing the colonel now?”

“Then please find him,” Cooley said.

“I have all my people giving it their full attention. Trust me.”

“This is Minx.” A message was coming in from Captain Kozlov, B-6’s flight officer. “Currently conducting tactical recon of JAM air superiority zone at Rakugan. The FAF aircraft gathered here have begun attacking each other.”

“What?” said Major Booker. “Our forces are firing on each other?”

“I don’t think this is an exercise, so yes, that’s what they’re doing. They’re using live ordnance.”

“They might be causing the crews to hallucinate, or they’re disrupting the planes’ electronic warfare systems. Check it out!”

“That’s going to be difficult, sir. Both sides in this fight are targeting me as an enemy, and we’ve got real JAM forces closing in as well. Let’s get back to base and analyze the data we’ve gathered. Captain, prepare to break to portside…NOW!”

Transmitting the sign that they were engaged in combat reconnaissance, the comm chatter from Minx continued.

“These guys look like they’re trying to settle a whole bunch of old scores.”

Major Booker turned at the sound of the voice, Generals Cooley and Linneberg following suit.

“They never liked how callous the SAF acts. That goes for the JAM too.”

“Rei…it took you long enough. What have you been up to?”

“Looking carefully into the mirror, shaving. For the first time, I wished I had a better one,” Rei said.

“I assume Captain Foss has briefed you on the mission.”

Captain Foss stood silently at Rei’s side.

“Yukikaze isn’t ready to sortie yet. You can ask Lieutenant Eco for the details. Captain Pivot, send out Llanfabon. Have them tell us what the situation is at Kanworm.”

“Send out Yukikaze too,” said Rei.

“Sending you out now would be suicide. Yukikaze’s the last ace the SAF has up its sleeve.”

“Which is why you need to send us out now.”

“What do you mean?”

“The JAM are waiting for me and Yukikaze,” Rei said. “As long as we stay hunkered down, the attacks will continue.”

“What, are you the Messiah or something?” Booker asked, incredulous.

“What happens to the people of Earth or the FAF isn’t my problem. I don’t really care. I just want to do what I want to do.”

“Oh, spare me the heroic bullshit. And just what do you want to do? Kill yourself?”

“Jack, a strategy where only one person survives would still be acceptable to the JAM. As long as one survives, you haven’t lost.”

“And you’re going to be that one person, is that it?”

“It could be anyone. You, Colonel Rombert, General Cooley. That’s not what I’m interested in. I want to be with Yukikaze, that’s all.”

“I think that Rei’s—that Captain Fukai’s belief that the JAM are waiting for Yukikaze is the vital point here,” Captain Foss said. “It’s not that they won’t attack Yukikaze, but as long as we don’t send her out, they’ll keep pressing this attack.”

“This is Lieutenant Bruys in Unit B-7, Llanfabon. Engaging JAM. Six hundred units have been wiped out. Shit, it’s not just the JAM. The FAF guys are targeting me too! Cutting my drop tanks. I need to lighten my load, or I’m dead. Won’t be able to make a direct RTB. Direct me to a refueling point.”

“Head for TAB-16,” Major Booker instructed. “After you neutralize its air defense and radar system, work something out with the people there. Is that clear? With the humans, not the base computer. I’ll send over the data the SAF is collecting on the overall combat theater. Analyze it yourself and work out a survival strategy.”

“Understood.”

“Pass it along to the other two planes.”

“No response. I guess they’ve been shot down. I don’t have time to confirm the collected data. Okay, I’m receiving it. Once it’s downloaded, I’m switching on my jammers. Just wanted to warn you in advance that I’ll be going dark for a while.”

“Roger.”

“Over and out.”

Two SAF planes had been shot down at the same time, and Llanfabon was left on her own and in danger. The command center fell silent, but only for a moment.

“This is Carmilla. Control, please respond.”

“Control, Major Booker here. What’s up?”

“Skymarks III and IV are designating tactical fighter groups approaching from Troll base as enemies. We’re confirming that the approaching planes are FAF, but Skymark’s still judging them to be enemies.”

“This is Lieutenant Tang aboard Chun-Yan. Control, the approaching aircraft aren’t just fighters from Troll. They’re coming in from the other main bases. They must be coming to attack Faery base, sir. It looks like they think that we’ve been taken over by the JAM.”

“This is Zouk. Dozens of alert fighters launched from Faery base to mop us up are moving to intercept them. We’re saved.”

The strategic computer cut in on the display.

This is a war between the computer systems of the FAF. It’s possible the bases surrounding Faery base think a coup has occurred. The FAF humans are getting caught in the middle.

“You could describe it as a panic from false rumors,” General Linneberg said. “A common tactic in an information war is to exploit normal fears and frustrations to produce a state of panic. Now it’s been done to our computers. This must have been exactly what Colonel Rombert was trying to achieve.”

This is SSC. Carmilla team, I am also recognizing the approaching planes as JAM. I believe this is the result of a JAM deception. Will correct error based on your data. Send data. If possible, visual confirmation by onboard crewmen is preferred.

“This is Carmilla, roger that.”

This is STC. I anticipate actual JAM forces will be closing from behind. Do not overlook this.

“Kill or be killed,” said General Cooley. “Carmilla team, keep watch on the other planes taking off from Faery base and divert them. We’re sending out Yukikaze now. Cover her takeoff. If anything tries to stop her, even an FAF plane, destroy it.”

“General, you’re sending him out?”

“Go, Captain Fukai,” she said. “Find the real JAM out there, then report back to me in real time. We have to keep the SAF from falling into a panic as well.”

“We need accurate information inside and out in order to stop this panic,” said General Linneberg. “The SAF are the only ones who can stop this.”

Rei nodded as he entered the flight plan from Major Booker into Yukikaze, then left the command center to suit up in his flight gear.

“Rei, look at this,” said Major Booker, stopping him in his tracks. “You’re going out, even now? If you jump into that, you won’t be coming back alive.”

The tactical display was stained bright red showing the enemy offensive under way.

“Why? Because you’re ordered to?” Booker said.

“You always ask me that, even when you already know the answer, Jack. See you. I’m borrowing your watch, though. Don’t worry. I’ll return it.”

He raised his arm lightly in a rough salute, just as he always did. And then Rei headed for Yukikaze. Her repairs complete, she’d been moved to the armament loading area for her final inspection. Wearing his flight suit, helmet in hand, Rei walked in to see the normally unmanned area crowded with maintenance personnel hanging all over Yukikaze, making their final checks on her. Some of them were carrying machine guns. Then Captain Foss approached.

“Edith. What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on your state of mind.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to come along with me.”

“I honestly wanted to, but General Cooley won’t allow it. But I think being aboard Yukikaze is the safest place to be at the moment.”

“So do I.”

“Or, rather than safe, maybe I should say it’s the most comforting place to be. I’m sure that’s how you feel. But it would be wrong for me. I shouldn’t come between you and Yukikaze.”

“I still don’t like you,” Rei said to Captain Foss. “You’re an annoying tag-along who just makes my life difficult. But I have to admit that you’re good at what you do. There’s one thing I have to ask you, though.”

“What’s that?”

“My relationship with Yukikaze. You said that simultaneously viewing her as a separate person while also acknowledging her as a part of me wasn’t that rare in people, that people have that ability. You said that it wasn’t an illness.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“What does that mean, specifically?”

“You know perfectly well. Isn’t that what you said to Major Booker before? You ask even when you know the answer. Still, I can understand why you might be shy about saying it, so I’ll lay it out for you,” Captain Foss said. “It’s what happens when you love someone. It’s an ability that’s been born of the love between you and Yukikaze, between a human being and the artificial intelligence of an SAF fighter plane.”

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Rei said.

“Yes. When I take a step back and think about it, the truth is that I want to laugh. But it’s the truth. Love can take this form. It’s the ability to feel as though another person is a part of you. It’s not the transient passion of infatuation, but the intense love that would drive you to willingly sacrifice yourself for their survival. We need to teach the JAM about that. The JAM don’t know love. If you wanted to express what the JAM don’t understand about the SAF in a literary way, that’s how I’d put it.”

“There’s no need to teach them.”

Rei put on his helmet and switched places with the maintenance man running the preflight checks in Yukikaze’s cockpit.

“Why not?” Captain Foss asked Rei as she clung to the side of the plane on the ladder. “Are you afraid that the JAM might love you back?”

“Maybe I am. Once the JAM understand that, the war will bog down into a quagmire. We’ll be reduced to a nasty mudslinging contest, and an even stronger hatred will be born of it.”

“Better to keep things as they are, is that it?”

“Yeah,” Rei said.

“Such a typical answer from you. But I predict that the JAM will evolve to understand it in order to match us. I’d even go so far as to say it would make them even more powerful.”

“And us too?”

“The two sides will continue to change. Assuming you live through this, I’m interested in seeing how you’ll continue to change. Be sure to make it back.”

“I was planning to, even without your asking me. Now, if you don’t mind, get out of the way. And have them pull all the safety pins out of the missiles. I’m taking off as soon as I’m topside.”

Captain Foss silently climbed down from the ladder. As Rei watched her, he thought that surviving the JAM wouldn’t necessarily mean he’d return home. But he didn’t say that. Instead, he felt for Major Booker’s watch on his left arm and took it off. And then, after telling Captain Foss to catch it, tossed it to her.

“Give that back to Major Booker for me, will you?” Rei said. “Good luck, Edith. You fixed me up well.”

Captain Foss nodded.

“Like you guys fixed me.”

And, as if answering him, Yukikaze scrolled a message onto the main display.

Everything is ready… Capt.

As they began towing Yukikaze toward the elevator, Rei was no longer aware of Captain Foss as an individual. She, the maintenance teams, the humans and the AIs of the SAF…the SAF had tuned both himself and Yukikaze to perfection, and as they sent him out, all he felt now was satisfaction.

He started the engines as soon as they’d exited the elevator. This was already a battlefield. On the runway, several FAF planes were burning. Three Super Sylphs, Carmilla, Chun-Yan, and Zouk, were speeding low, barely skimming the ground.

“This is Yukikaze. Taking off.”

Night had given way fully to dawn. The crimson jet of the Bloody Road could no longer be seen from ground level.

Yukikaze shot away from the ground at maximum thrust, zooming upward in a combat climb. She soared high, aiming for altitudes where the Bloody Road could be clearly seen, even at noon. The soaring fairy. The queen of the wind. Maeve. Yukikaze.