II Never Question the Value of a Knight
NEVER QUESTION
THE VALUE OF A KNIGHT
He didn’t believe Earth was something worth risking his life to protect. When others, especially those who felt passionate about its defense, would discover this, they would usually accuse him of possessing exactly the kind of negative attitude that would lead to the planet’s destruction. To which he would simply reply, “So what?”
EARTH HAD BEEN fighting the JAM for thirty long years. Rei Fukai couldn’t imagine a reality without them. The war had already begun by the time he was born, and he had been raised in a world where the existence of the Earth Defense Force was a mundane fact of life. So much so, in fact, that back then he never seriously thought about the war itself, nor wondered about its origins or its significance. Since the battle was being fought not on Earth, but on the planet Faery, the staging ground for the JAM’s attempted invasion, and since the JAM’s military might was not far superior to that of humanity’s, it hadn’t affected his day-to-day life in any significant manner. And so he’d had no reason to consider it.
Now, Rei was a soldier. He had passed through the enormous, white, spindle-shaped cloud at the South Pole that enveloped the hyperspace corridor connecting Earth to Faery and had arrived at the front lines of battle. But despite this, despite having experienced the war with the JAM firsthand, and despite having access to reams of uncensored information about it, the news reports he’d see piped back from Earth somehow still didn’t seem real to him.
The JAM existed; therefore, they were at war with the JAM. He had never once asked himself about the necessity of the fight. The enemy didn’t allow the luxury of such questions.
Upon returning from a mission and going off duty, Rei would usually go by himself to a bar in the red-light district and drink. He spoke to nobody and nobody spoke to him. He would silently tilt his glass of beer and think about the next mission and about Yukikaze. No one had ever asked him why he fought. He fought because the enemy was there. Even if the question went unasked, that was the answer. But one day Rei met a man who said that that wasn’t the answer. A man who said, “What we need to fight the JAM isn’t humans. It’s machines.”
“HUMANS AREN’T NECESSARY,” said the man next to him. Rei had been standing alone at the bar, drinking a dark beer. The place was packed with off-duty officers.
“Right?” the man continued, looking for agreement. “You’re a fighter pilot, aren’t you? You’ve got that look to you.”
“Tactical Air Group, Faery Base Tactical Airwing, Special Air Force 5th Squadron.”
“A Super Sylph driver, huh? A member of the famed Boomerang Squadron. Those are some top-of-the-line planes you boys have there.”
The man introduced himself as Colonel Karl Guneau from the Systems Corps’ Technology Development Center. He held out his hand, then withdrew it after a few moments when Rei made no move to take it.
“I see Boomerang pilots are as sociable as the rumors say,” Colonel Guneau laughed. “I guess you win, Lieutenant…?”
“Rei Fukai.”
“Lieutenant Fukai, what I’m referring to is the Flip Knight, a new air-superiority dogfight RPV—a remotely piloted vehicle— that my team has developed. As advanced as it is, even the SAF’s Super Sylph can never achieve its full potential as long as it’s carrying a human pilot who’s as fragile as an egg. A Sylph could never beat a Knight.”
“Meaning your Knights would kill our queens?”
“Well, I was just thinking how I’d like to take it up for an operations flight test… It could be quite something.” The colonel held a glass in his left hand and gestured with the cigar in his right as he cheerfully went on. “Maybe you’d be interested?”
“The Systems Corps has its own flight test center. If that’s not enough for you, you can try and get the Tactical Air Group’s training wing to cooperate. The 5th is a combat fighter squadron. It would make no sense for us to be involved.”
“It makes perfect sense,” said the colonel with a smile. “The knight has thrown down his glove. It’s a challenge to duel.”
Rei drained his beer mug and then, ignoring the colonel, left the bar. Guneau’s loud laughter followed him out into the busy street.
The residential and pleasure districts of Faery Base sprawled across the bottom of the vast underground space that contained them. They constituted a small city unto themselves, one that offered everything its inhabitants might want, from bars to banks to houses of worship of every denomination. A city where one could turn a corner and find oneself in what appeared to be an entirely foreign culture.
Rei did not avail himself of anything the city had to offer, and instead climbed into a small common-use electric vehicle and returned to his quarters in the TCG 1666th barracks #303. The tumult of the city did not reach him here. A duel, he thought. Ridiculous.
WHEN REI AWOKE the next morning, he’d forgotten all about the colonel. He wasn’t scheduled for any sorties and the thought of a solid day of nothing but deskwork had put him in a bad mood.
Exiting the barracks, he headed in the opposite direction from the city center, toward the rocky cavern walls at its periphery. He soon entered a tunnel that opened up into a large hall three hundred meters further in. The combat base was a solid underground maze. The path cut left, then right, rose and descended. Rei boarded an elevator in a junction hall, got off, and walked through a gradually narrowing corridor—presenting his ID to the guards at the entrance to each block—until he finally reached his room in Boomerang Squadron’s offices. The whole procedure was vaguely irritating. Once he fed his ID card into a terminal of the personnel management system and confirmed he had arrived for work, he was in the clear.
Deskwork was tedious, but neglecting it could get him disqualified from flight time. Sitting down at his desk, Rei wondered what he’d do if they ever took his beloved Yukikaze away from him. Thinking about soaring through the sky was the one thing that made the mind-numbing paperwork bearable.
“What’s the point of these sortie reports, anyway?” he groused to himself. Then he abruptly stopped jabbing at the keyboard, flashing back to Colonel Guneau’s statement about humans being unnecessary. He wondered if Yukikaze considered him unnecessary, then immediately rejected the notion. Yukikaze was the one thing that Rei trusted, and he didn’t want to even entertain the possibility that she could betray him. It might have been absurd to think that she wouldn’t abandon him just because he needed her, but that was what he chose to believe.
He quickly finished up the multitude of reports and went to see his plane. Checking the airframe was a routine daily task, yet he found it anything but tedious.
The underground hangar was quiet. Units 5 and 7 were out. Rei began his inspection of Unit 3’s airframe, starting on the forward left side and moving aft. He circled back to the nose from the right side, checking the exterior for oil leaks and surface damage. There were over a hundred items on the inspection checklist, and although some of them were not mandatory on a daily basis, Rei checked them all.
Once the visual inspection was done, he climbed into the cockpit to perform the onboard tests. Thick cables dangled from Yukikaze’s underside, connecting her to the external power supply and the SAF computers. He set the master test selector to onboard test mode. Then, after confirming that the throttle was disengaged and the master arm switch was set to SAFE, he initiated the programmable electronics self-test and began ticking off the items on the checklist. As test signals were sent to all of the avionics and navigation sensors, simulation checks were run on the air inlet control programmer, the automatic flight control set, the central air data computer, the throttle control auto-mode, and a host of other systems.
After that, there were the communications systems to check, the fuel transfer control system, the operations of all the displays, the cockpit opening and closing function… And by that point, it seemed almost a half-measure to not simply go ahead and run the engines, too. Still, it couldn’t be helped. Rei climbed down from Yukikaze, feeling like he was being separated from his lover.
“Figured you’d be here, Rei.” Major James Booker’s voice echoed through the hangar. “So, what was so important that you had to consult Yukikaze after leaving the office without permission?”
Rei had forgot to log his airframe inspection into the personnel control system that Major Booker used to manage Boomerang Squadron. He was Rei’s friend, but they were on duty and Booker had not come down there on personal business. The major’s tone indicated he was in full superior officer mode.
“What’s my punishment, Major?”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking like that after what you pulled.”
“What’s up? Something happen, Jack?”
The major told Rei to come with him. Rei did as he was told and followed his CO out of the hangar.
“Jesus, Rei. Don’t I have enough to do around here without you dumping this crap on my plate, too?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“This thing with Colonel Guneau. And yes, I know it’s not your fault. I know that without even asking. A Boomerang pilot would never go looking for a fight like this. And you in particular. You meet flattery with a blank look, insults with indifference, tears with a cold heart, and threats with a cool head. You’d just say ‘Not my problem’ and leave it at that. But General Cooley isn’t a Boomerang pilot.”
“You mean Colonel Guneau talked Super Granny into it?”
“He said it would be ‘the perfect test of aerial combat technique.’ He came to see me, too. That bloke’s a smooth talker. Seemed more like a salesman than an engineer. Anyway, as much as I’d like to tell the higher-ups to back off, I’m being forced to do this. And you’re the pilot who’s going to handle it for me.”
“I don’t want to have anything to do with this flight test.”
“And I don’t want to completely cock up the sortie schedule I’ve already put together. This is classified, but…there’s a big attack operation coming down. Believe me, I have no desire to be playing these games right before that.”
As he walked shoulder to shoulder with the major, Rei realized that the rumors he’d heard were true: they were probably going to hit the JAM’s largest forward base. In fact, it had practically been an open secret, so if the JAM had any spies in here, they probably already knew about it.
“We’ll be launching all of our squadron’s planes for that operation,” the major said as he opened his office door and stepped inside. “I finally get a schedule drawn up for the overhaul rotation for all our planes, and they hit me with this operations flight test. Now it’s all gone to hell.”
“So just refuse,” said Rei as he closed the door.
“Why don’t you go to the general’s office and refuse for me?” Booker gathered up a sheaf of papers from his desktop and handed it to Rei. “You can hit her with these.”
It was an operations manual for the Flip Knight system.
“I don’t think that would persuade her.”
As far as Rei was concerned, fighting a mechanical knight was a whole lot more appealing than having General Cooley snarling at him.
Major Booker kept Rei standing as he leaned on his desk and told him about the Flip Knight system.
“Listen carefully, Rei.”
The Flip Knights were small, unmanned fighter planes designed for dogfighting. They were to be loaded onto a carrier plane and launched in midair after arriving at the battle zone. They would then fight under the command of the carrier’s control staff.
“People operate them from the carrier?” asked Rei. “So much for humans not being necessary.”
“No, the RPVs have the ability to fight completely on automatic. The problem is the armament.”
The major indicated a schematic of a metal cylinder that was about 300 mm long and 40 mm in diameter.
“This is an energy charge for a laser gun. One of these is capable of generating a beam of 0.7 second’s duration. The Knight is equipped with a high-powered laser cannon which is practically unaffected by weather conditions.”
According to the data in the manual, the barrel of the gun could move 1.95 degrees in any direction, the major explained as he gestured at the document. When a target entered a thirty-four-meter circle within a thousand-meter radius in front of the fighter, the gun barrel would be slaved to the targeting radar to keep it constantly centered.
The major said that he had read the research thoroughly. “I think the accuracy rate for this thing is nearly a hundred percent. That’s because it doesn’t fire physical ordnance that can be put off course. Once it locks on to you, unless you get out of its firing range you’re almost surely a goner. You can’t outrun a beam of light. Besides that, the Knight has a much tighter turn radius than a Sylph. A Super Sylph is an incredible dogfighter, but the original Sylphid was an all-weather interceptor. Basically, it was designed to take a shot and then get the hell out of there. In a straight-on fight with a Flip Knight, a Super Sylph has no chance…”
Booker sighed. “I have to rework the squadron’s schedule. It’s a big job, and there’s no room for any mistakes. A miscalculation could get one of our soldiers killed.”
“We’ll do our best. It should be enough.”
“Anyway, I’ll let you know when the details of the flight test plan are ready. Since we have a major operation coming up, they probably won’t be able to put together anything large-scale, but General Cooley has made it a formal order, so it’s definitely going to happen. Get ready.”
They saluted each other roughly.
REI READ THE Flip Knight manual carefully. Afterward he was even more confused about the point of having aerial combat training between a Sylph and the Knight. It made about as much sense as pitting a sprinter against a marathon runner.
To beat the Knight, he’d have to avoid a close-in dogfight. His best bet would be to fire all six of his long-range missiles and immediately withdraw so that the Knight’s main opponent would be the swarm of missiles, not him. Meanwhile, his main opponent would be the carrier plane. Without combat data support from the carrier, even if the Knight could fight autonomously it would be no match for the Sylph. The Super Sylph was unparalleled when it came to electronic indexing of enemy capabilities. The Knight would be so busy trying to dodge those missiles that it wouldn’t be able to attack the Sylph. This fight was shaping up to be a proxy one: the Knight versus the Sylph’s missiles and the Sylph versus the Knight’s controllers.
In the end, Rei decided that the Flip Knight was the equivalent of the antiaircraft machine guns mounted on old heavy bombers, albeit a technologically advanced equivalent with fixed wings and a high degree of maneuverability. It was the command and control capabilities of the carrier plane that determined the Flip Knight’s value. Flying autonomously, separated from those systems, the Knight’s abilities were merely theoretical.
A good weapon may confer an absolute advantage, but an advantage does not necessarily ensure a victory. Just as in the old saying that a treasure unused went to waste, it was up to the individual to decide how and when to best utilize a weapon. That was why humans were necessary in battle.
“But why is that?” Rei muttered to himself. It was such an obvious thing that he’d never thought about it before. Why did people fight? Maybe humans should just leave it to the machines. In nearly every field of endeavor, perfect automation was theoretically possible. So why, exactly, were humans required to stay in the mix?
It wasn’t as though Rei had a personal creed that required people to be superior to machines. The revulsion he felt at hearing Colonel Guneau’s statement that humans weren’t necessary came from how it seemed to negate his relationship with Yukikaze, but it didn’t go beyond that personal reaction. Rei didn’t think that humanity would ever abandon Faery, no matter how good the machines got.
“Humans are necessary in battle.”
Rei said it aloud, testing the sound of the words. Why? Why did he think that?
Maybe, he thought, it’s to secure the budget. Nobody cries when a machine is broken, but dead bodies are a silent appeal to Earth to counter the JAM threat.
You couldn’t say that the Faery Air Force’s budget was adequate, but then that was the nature of budgets, wasn’t it? They weren’t infinite, and where there were limited resources there were naturally a lot of people arguing forcefully about what constituted a necessity. That was why they needed to be persuasive. One flag-draped coffin sent back by the FAF spoke more eloquently of how terrible the JAM were than any list of necessary expenditures spat out by a computer.
Is that why people are needed? Rei thought. So then did I come here just to become a corpse? The more he worried at the concept, the more that conclusion seemed to be inevitable. Starting to feel like he was slowly throttling himself, he shook his head and drove the ominous thought away. He took a deep breath, feeling foolish for even having considered such a thing.
The oppressive feeling stayed with him into the late afternoon, which was when General Cooley called for him. He found his EWO already seated in the SAF deputy commander’s office when he arrived. He was a dependable partner aboard Yukikaze but a cold, blunt man on the ground. The same as me, Rei thought. He looked at Second Lieutenant Burgadish, a man who was like a part of him, and had a sudden sinking feeling. A living corpse. That odd thought took hold of him and wouldn’t let go. They were living corpses preserved in an illusion of life.
General Cooley launched into a rambling explanation of the flight test to be conducted with the Flip Knight. Rei mostly ignored her. The general continued feverishly. “Think of the honor,” she said. “The fact that Boomerang Squadron has been chosen for this task is in recognition of our being the strongest unit in the FAF.”
Rei was bored. Realizing this, the general seemed to wake from her trance and stopped talking.
“What is the point of this?” Rei asked.
“The point?” The general pushed her glasses up with her index finger. “Lieutenant Fukai, what exactly are you asking?”
“If this is a test of our combat technique, then let me load Yukikaze with live antiaircraft ordnance. The Knight’s unmanned. There shouldn’t be any problem with that.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“What that tells me is that the point of this is to satisfy Colonel Guneau’s ego. We’re meant to be the sacrifices in his little game.” Nothing but pawns for the man who saw people as unnecessary. “This whole thing is stupid.”
“I fail to see a reason for this type of reaction on your part.”
“I’m saying that it’s bullshit.”
“Lieutenant, it doesn’t matter whether you win or lose. It won’t be an issue.”
“That doesn’t make me like it.”
“Like it or not, it’s an order. Just pretend that you’re fighting the JAM.”
“We fight the JAM for real. And when you say to a Boomerang pilot who’s recently come back from a mission after barely escaping with his life, ‘Hey, come on, let’s practice,’ what he hears is that you just insulted him.”
“This is going to be a real battle,” the laconic Lieutenant Burgadish said in a clipped tone. “So I don’t mind.”
Rei understood what he meant. The lieutenant was saying that anyone who wasn’t on their side was an enemy. Be it a hypothetical enemy or an unknown one, the single necessity was to get back home without getting killed.
General Cooley, however, let out a deep sigh, clearly not understanding what the problem was. She waved her hand at them to leave.
“I’ll give Major Booker the details. You will abide by these commands, readily and immediately. That is all. Dismissed.”
MAJOR BOOKER MET them in his office with a tired look on his face. He seemed harried.
“They’ve decided to initiate the big op in five days,” he told them. “The mission code is FTJ83. It’s going to be the largest one we’ve had in years, involving all our forces… What’d you come here for again?”
“The duel,” said Rei.
“Right,” the major replied. He picked up two copies of a booklet from among the papers scattered on top of his desk and handed them to Rei and Burgadish. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll explain in the briefing room.”
They filed into the high-ceilinged chamber. Rei and Burgadish sat with their backs to the panoramic glassed-in view of the maintenance bay, facing the flat-panel display that took up the entire opposite wall. The major punched up a map of Faery.
“The combat flight test will be tomorrow. You’ll take off at 0900 hours and are scheduled to return at 1156.”
“We’ll be in the air for nearly three hours?”
“We got a complaint from the Aerospace Defense Corps. They said they didn’t want us doing this damn fool stunt inside our air defense ID zone. It’s a pain in the arse, but since I’m assuming you’d rather avoid the possibility of getting toasted by friendly fire, it can’t be helped. That’s why we have to go all the way out here.” The major pointed to the map. “Sugar Desert.”
“That’s out in D-zone, isn’t it? What about the training areas closer in?”
“They’ve been closed because of Operation FTJ83. Right now, all airspace is classified as combat airspace. The early warning satellites launched by the ADC were all shot down recently, which has them in a sweat. Now they’ve got AWACS planes buzzing around all over the place. This is a hell of a time to be doing training flights.”
Centered on the Passageway connecting them with Earth was the Absolute Defense Line, which extended to a radius of 200 klicks around it. If the JAM broke through the line, they would pour through the Passageway and onto Earth itself. The six giant bases of the FAF were arrayed around the Passageway along this line. Other defense lines had been established further out, at distances of 600, 1,200, and 2,000 klicks from the Passageway, and were known respectively as “A-line,” “B-line,” and the “Early Warning Line.” The area between the Absolute Defense Line and A-line was known as “A-zone,” with the B- and C-zones following out. D-zone lay beyond the outermost defense line. The FAF did not have absolute control of the airspace out there, but since it wasn’t JAM airspace either, it was tentatively considered to be neutral territory. Of course, the zones were entirely of human invention and so were not recognized by the JAM or by Faery’s primitive life-forms.
Major Booker brought an aerial photograph up on the display. It was dazzlingly white. Casting a large black shadow on the pure white sand was a three-thousand-meter-tall mountain that most of the pilots affectionately referred to as “Sugar Rock,” since it looked more like an enormous piece of rock candy abandoned in the sugary sand than a mountain. There were no other peaks around it, and it rose up so unexpectedly that it made for an excellent landmark.
“You’ll fly straight out to here, engage in a mock air battle for three minutes, and then return. On your way there and back, you’ll be flying a combat air patrol. If you encounter the JAM, you will intercept and engage. In that event, the nearest front line bases are TAB-13, 15, and 16. We’ll also have an in-air refueling tanker on the rear line as backup. If you encounter the JAM while outbound, the flight test will be cancelled.”
Rei looked at his onboard stores list.
“I’ll be flying with heavy equipment. Quick maneuvers are going to be impossible. That’ll put me at a disadvantage against the Knight.”
“You picked this fight. Can’t give it back now. You’ve been authorized to use live gun ammo, by the way.”
“What?”
“Colonel Guneau’s full of confidence about this. He said we can try whatever we wanted. The Knight won’t be firing at you, so don’t worry about that.”
“I’d never be able to beat it if I got within cannon range. I can practically see him laughing at us right now.”
“Are we done here?” asked Lieutenant Burgadish.
“Yeah,” answered the major. “Memorize that schedule. Dismissed.”
Rei watched his partner quickly leave the room.
“Want some coffee?” Booker asked as he killed the display and moved over to the table. “I’m tired.”
“It’s like he’s wearing a mask…”
“Who, Burgadish? Hmm… He’s like the poster boy for Boomerang Squadron. What I find interesting is that you may be losing what it takes to be a Boomerang pilot, Rei. You gonna break up with Yukikaze and become my assistant?”
“I have no interest in breaking up with her,” he answered, and then quickly changed the subject. “Active homing missiles would be effective, even against ECM. And I can also use them as decoys to break my opponent’s weapons lock.”
The major set a cup under the coffee maker’s spout.
“Only your gun’s going to have live ammo. If you can’t live fire your missiles, why not pop off chaff and flares instead?”
“That may not be very effective against the Knight. Aside from radar it uses video cameras and pattern recognition software for targeting. Even if I goof its radar with chaff and jamming waves, it could still visually tag me with its targeting reticule and get me that way.”
Booker slurped at his coffee. “How about you carry smokescreen shells, too? Any particular color you’d like? I can even get you rainbow-colored ones.”
“This whole thing’s just making me depressed.”
“So…blue, then?”
“I wonder just what sort of dogfight the Flip Knight is going to give me.”
“Do it and find out,” answered the major.
YUKIKAZE TOOK OFF the next day at the appointed time. She was accompanied by a large AWACS plane that had been temporarily fitted out as a combat training control unit. During the training, the control plane’s combat data section would be on Yukikaze’s side; the Flip Knight would be challenging the Super Sylph without any support from it. The control plane would synthesize the tactical data of the Knight, its carrier plane, and Yukikaze, and then automatically render an instant verdict of which plane won or lost.
Yukikaze flew at high altitude at a fuel-conserving cruising speed toward Sugar Rock. Rei didn’t care anymore about the purpose or rationale behind this flight test. The troubles and expectations of the world below were left outside the cockpit. In the skies of Faery, all that mattered was the simple principle of kill or be killed. Anyone who allowed himself to be distracted by questions about why he was fighting or why the JAM were here would be killed by his opponent in short order and never make it back alive.
The winners were the ones who made it back.
Rei looked up at the deep blue sky above him. What more was there to think about than that?
Above the thin atmosphere hung the flattened ellipses of the binary suns. The Bloody Road that spilled out from them painted a crimson swath across the sky. A little higher up and he could see it, even in daylight: an enormous whirlpool, like a red Milky Way. Maybe if Faery didn’t have twin suns and there were no Bloody Road and the sky looked the same as it did on Earth, then maybe he would be able to look at things more rationally. This world was too illusory, so exceedingly unreal with its bizarre sights. It was like a dream, or an amusement park, or something out of a fairy tale. It seemed more so at night, as if the very air itself contained a hallucinatory power.
They were approaching the training area. Making a tactical guidance call, Yukikaze headed toward the target point using the comm line and tactical data link it established with the control plane. The control plane remained inside of C-zone and would continue to direct them from approximately a hundred kilometers to the rear.
Lieutenant Burgadish had already picked up their opponent’s radar emissions on the passive detectors. Yukikaze’s central computer automatically input the data into its file and compared the radar waves’ frequency and special characteristics to data on known types it had stored. The onboard computer classified the radar signature as UNKNOWN, but just then a call came from the control plane: “B-3, tactical control signals for the Flip Knight system detected.”
Their passive detectors could not pinpoint an exact target location, so the control plane fed them the necessary data. Lieutenant Burgadish confirmed the position of the Flip Knight’s carrier plane on Yukikaze’s radar display. It was about 250 kilometers out and closing. While Yukikaze’s radar was better than that of most fighter planes, it could not compare to the giant radome of the AWACS plane.
“The carrier’s taking its sweet time flying to our rear,” Burgadish said over the comm in his usual bored tone. “The Knights should be launching soon.”
“B-3,” called the control plane. “K-I, K-II, K-III, closing rapidly on your position.”
“What?” said Rei. “Lieutenant, confirm.”
The fire control radar Rei was operating had acquired the target and was tracking it, but it could only detect on a very narrow range.
“Can’t confirm… I see them now. Behind us, closing fast.”
A target symbol appeared on the multi-function display near Rei’s knee.
“Why didn’t the control plane give us an intercept course faster? Are they trying to kill us?”
“The point of this exercise is to simulate an actual assault. Okay, let’s do this.”
Rei sent them into a loose roll down toward the pure white sand, then pulled hard up and about. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the glitter of the Knights climbing up at them. He set the radar mode to super search, flicked the master arm switch to ARM, and pushed Yukikaze into a power dive toward the odd mountain rearing up out of the sugary sands before them. Trying to shake off the pursuing Knights, he used the velocity gained from the dive to whip around Sugar Rock, flying in its shadow with wings parallel to the mountain’s face.
He had anticipated that the Knights would break formation at this point. Most likely, one plane would stay high while the other two would split up to fly around either side of the mountain. He was hoping dearly that they would, because unless he split them up, he’d have no chance of beating them.
About three-quarters of the way around Sugar Rock, the fire control radar picked up Knight-II ahead, almost dead abreast of them, and locked on immediately. Range 1.6 klicks. Rei set the dogfight switch to ON, and the head-up display automatically switched to gun mode.
The Knight was small and hard to see, but the target designator reticule on the HUD framed the plane and showed him its position. However, Knight-II evaded him before he achieved optimal firing position. Not three seconds had passed since the radar lock.
Rei banked Yukikaze hard at full thrust and pursued Knight-II. He got back into targeting position, and as soon as they were within firing range he squeezed the trigger. The number readout on the HUD that showed the rounds remaining in his cannon rapidly began counting backwards. No hit.
“Evasive, right!” Burgadish called out.
Rei reflexively aborted his attack and went into a high-G turn. Knight-I was savagely charging up at them from below: Knight-II had been a decoy.
As they accelerated and slipped over the peak of Sugar Rock, diving starboard, Knight-III came at them nose-on. They merged before he could even pull the trigger. Knight-III made a sharp turn and was on his six in an instant.
“Okay, B-3, that’s it. RTB.”
“Roger.”
“B-3,” Colonel Guneau’s voice cut in. “How does it feel to get killed twice, Lieutenant Fukai?”
He hadn’t been killed, though. He was still flying. He was still alive, so he hadn’t lost. That was the single essential truth of these skies.
“MK-1, Colonel,” Rei replied. “Looks like this flight test turned out just the way you planned it. Satisfied?”
“Very satisfied. The Knight really is brilliant. It exhibited even better combat decision capacities than I had expected.”
“Was that attack conducted in full automatic mode?”
“It was.” Colonel Guneau sounded very pleased with himself. “Are you starting to accept the truth now?”
Rei was silent. The fact he couldn’t object irritated the hell out of him. It wasn’t so much the result of this flight test that pissed him off as it was the colonel’s attitude. The outcome of the flight might have been different if the initial parameters they set up for him had been changed, but Colonel Guneau just now had all but admitted that the outcome was a foregone conclusion, one that had been fixed in the planning stages. Rei recalled how frustrated he felt when he couldn’t adequately put into words his thoughts that, no matter how advanced machines became, people would still be needed.
He didn’t want to believe that he was here only to become a corpse, because that line of thought inevitably led to the colonel’s conclusion.
“I know how hard this must be for you,” the colonel said, “but a loss is a loss. Just accept it.”
“Colonel Guneau,” Rei asked. “Do you have any real combat experience? Any actual flight time in a fighter?”
“No.”
Then you don’t know shit about how I feel, Rei thought. Colonel Guneau didn’t fight. He didn’t understand the mentality of a soldier. Rei wondered what Major Booker would have to say about it and was struck by the realization that, as a former fighter pilot, the major would understand his feelings.
As he climbed higher to fly his CAP on the way back to the base, Rei thought about nothing. Lieutenant Burgadish didn’t say a word about the flight test, either. Rei didn’t ask his partner what he thought about the colonel. He could pretty much imagine the response. “What the colonel thinks has nothing to do with us,” or something to that effect.
With their quiet patrol over—they didn’t encounter the JAM that day—Yukikaze came in for landing. As they descended to the maintenance bay on the elevator, Rei’s tension dissipated somewhat. But the fact that he hadn’t managed to shoot down even one Knight, that in the end he hadn’t beaten Colonel Guneau, left him agitated.
Major Booker was waiting for them in the maintenance bay, with his usual “How’d it go?” greeting to his returning soldiers. Rei gave the same reply he always did: “We’re still alive.”
“How was the Knight?” the major asked as he followed them to the locker room. “Tough as we thought?”
“We didn’t win, but we didn’t lose either.”
“Hm,” said the major, nodding. He knew how Rei felt. “I want a full flight test report from you. We can use the data to improve the Super Sylph’s performance. Later, then.”
“Humans are necessary in battle,” Rei suddenly said. “But why?”
The major halted mid-step and turned around.
“Because wars are started by humans, which means we can’t very well leave it to machines to fight them.”
That’s it, Rei thought. When you put it that way, it was a simple enough reason. Booker gave him a searching look for a moment and then left the room.
Rei checked the schedule board on the wall. FTJ83 had been entered, commencing in four days. Normally, underneath the mission number would be written the numbers of the planes assigned to sortie and the crew names, but the column under FTJ83 was blank except for the words “All units to sortie.”
He couldn’t keep dwelling on Colonel Guneau. Rei changed his clothes and left the locker room. He’d already put the Flip Knight system out of his mind. Once it’s perfected, it’ll be the JAM’s problem, not mine, he thought. The test was over.
REI HAD THOUGHT that was the last he’d have to deal with Colonel Guneau. The next day, with FTJ83 just three days away, all the members of 5th Squadron had been assembled to hear the mission brief from General Cooley. Afterward, he was summoned by Major Booker to receive an unexpected order: he was to fly backup for Guneau.
Seeing Rei enter his office, Booker stood up and walked around his desk, brandishing a piece of paper at him. “Look at this,” he said. “It’s Colonel Guneau again.”
“Does he want a rematch?”
“No, this time it’ll be real combat. FTJ83. They’re sending the Flip Knight out for air defense. It looks like the good colonel’s going to be celebrating by flying in the carrier plane personally. That’s where you come in.” Booker flicked the paper with his finger. “Yukikaze has been tasked to provide guidance support. The orders came in from above, although you’ll never guess who they’re from.”
“Not General Cooley?”
“Try General Jenner, commander of the Tactical Air Force.”
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“Officially, the story is that the TAF has volunteered to provide Colonel Guneau with backup. For instance, if the Knight flies too far from the carrier and gets lost, Yukikaze would guide it home or possibly even guide it to its target. The Knight can fight autonomously, but it’s still limited in its ability to search for an enemy.”
“But why Yukikaze?”
“The TAF’s real intention is to make the Knight system its own, with this temporary utilization as a fig leaf. Basically, this is a demonstration to get funding for it. If they get hard proof that the system can be used well tactically, they may form a new unit combining Sylphs and Knights. It looks like the TAF and the Systems Corps came up with this scheme beforehand. Yukikaze was chosen on Colonel Guneau’s recommendation.”
“I don’t believe this… And I have to do this on top of my regular duty? It’s gonna be a royal fucking pain.”
“I agree completely. But now we have to get Yukikaze fitted with the Knight’s tactical guidance system ASAP. We can do it in time, but getting the system mounted, tested, and adjusted properly is going to take a lot of work. We can’t just slap it on and make it look pretty. If it doesn’t work to spec, it’ll be dangerous. We’re going to be working on this from now through tomorrow, and it’s already giving me a headache.”
The major returned to his desk, picked up the control set manual for the Knight, and handed it to Rei.
“We’ve already begun the preparations. If you want to see for yourself, head down to the maintenance bay. You need to read this in case you’re given guidance authority.”
Rei flipped through the manual, then shrugged. “If that happened then I’d have the Knight operate on full auto. It’d do a better job than me.”
“I’ll leave that decision to you. I’ll officially brief you on the mission conduct tomorrow.”
ALTHOUGH ALL UNITS were flying out, the squadrons were going to be launched on a staggered schedule. Because the scope of FTJ83 was so enormous, the operation had been broken into nine phases. The planes of Boomerang Squadron were assigned to launch in the different phases in accordance with the master battle plan. Each plane would take off on its own, rendezvous with the strike unit it was attached to, then gather battle progress data from the front lines and return to base. That would be the extent of Boomerang Squadron’s duty.
To say that coordinating all of this was keeping Major Booker busy would be an understatement. Unlike all the other fighter squadrons, which would operate according to one set of orders, he had to devise and transmit flight plans for all thirteen individual units in his squadron. This involved the takeoff times, the mission action outlines of the squadrons they were attached to, the return flight courses, the in-air refueling points, emergency support conditions, and a myriad of other elements. On top of that, a normal mission would usually require the launch of just two planes, but in FTJ83 all of them were going out. Add in Colonel Guneau and his Knight system, and the whole thing was enough of a mess to drive Major Booker to tears. Enough so that even Rei felt sorry for him.
“Thanks for all your hard work, Major.” Rei saluted.
“You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard a Boomerang pilot thank me for anything. Rei, if you really feel that way, break up with Yukikaze and come work with me in control.”
“Can’t do that,” Rei said as he lowered his hand. “Yukikaze would never leave me.”
“You can’t kiss a machine,” said the major. “If she ever makes like she’s going to crash and kiss the ground, you make sure you leave her in an instant. Understand?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll always make it back alive. That’s your one standing order, isn’t it?”
The paramount directive of Boomerang Squadron: Even if you have to watch your comrades die, make it back alive. If asked, none of its members would say that they considered this a heartless duty. To them, even entertaining the question would be a pointless waste of time. Those were the kind of soldiers who made up Boomerang Squadron.
Rei saluted once more, then left Major Booker’s office. He went to see Yukikaze and get a detailed explanation of what was being done from the crew chief. Enveloped in the tense atmosphere of the maintenance bay, Yukikaze was almost intoxicatingly appealing.
FTJ83. THE ENORMOUS operation commenced at 1100 hours with the destruction of the JAM’s strategic reconnaissance satellites. Simultaneously, ballistic missiles were launched from strategic bases while frontline division bases launched antiradar cruise missiles. Most of the missiles were shot down, but during the barrage the strike units were able to successfully penetrate the targeted JAM sphere of influence. They achieved air mastery through overwhelming force, destroyed the JAM’s surface installations, and neutralized the enemy’s counterstrike capabilities. Cruise bombers then dropped a devastating amount of ordnance on the central objective.
And thus was the JAM’s largest frontline base destroyed—or at least, that was how Rei heard it from inside Yukikaze. Well, now it begins, he thought, but he doubted that the JAM had really been hit fatally. Part of their forces could have been hiding deep underground, and anyway, this wasn’t the only base the JAM had. There would be payback.
Rei was flying a CAP armed with twelve medium-range missiles and four short-range missiles. He was holding at a high altitude in C-zone near Sugar Rock, looping in a figure-eight pattern. There were three squadrons of ADAG interceptors nearby, flying at a slightly lower altitude than Yukikaze, all fifteen planes maintaining plenty of space between them. The Flip Knight and Unit MK-1, the carrier plane Colonel Guneau was on, were positioned a hundred kilometers to the rear along with the airborne control plane AC-4.
It was unusual for Yukikaze, a plane attached to the Tactical Air Force, to be operating with an Aerospace Defense Corps unit. But then, according to the letter of their mission, Boomerang fighters were supposed to operate with any squadron, so Rei didn’t particularly feel one way or the other about it. It was just that this was the first operation where he’d had enough time to wonder when and how the enemy would come at them, or even whether they would come at all, and he found the suspense painful.
The dense forest was spread out below him. The dry air blowing in from the nearby desert gave the atmosphere a crystalline quality, and even from this distance the true hues of the vegetation—not the expected dark greens, but rather pale blues—were faithfully conveyed to his eyes. The forest ended abruptly before the ocean of pure white sand. The contrast was beautiful. Sugar Rock glittered in the sun. Looking down on the forest side, Rei could see a sea of clouds mounting up in the distance, with storms likely blowing beneath them.
The area was mountainous, though the heights were less like mountains than like enormous geological waves that rose and fell three thousand meters. Seen from this high up, the ranges really did look like waves. Since the dominant plant species on the mountainsides varied between the heights and lowlands, you could roughly estimate the altitude from the color of the vegetation. It grew more and more purple the higher you got. Faery Base was beyond the horizon, past those waves. Beyond it was the Passageway, and beyond the Passageway, Earth.
What a boring-ass mission, Rei thought, stifling a yawn.
“Is it time to go home yet, Lieutenant?” Rei asked his EWO.
“Still…sixty-three minutes to go.”
They flew on silently for thirty more minutes, not even talking during the in-air refueling. Just as Rei was wondering if the JAM would ever show up, a call came from the control plane.
“All units, attention. This is AC-4. We’ve picked up the JAM. Map point D31-49, flying on the deck. Multiple contacts, speed of zero-point-nine and closing. They look like cruise missiles, three large groups. All units, prepare to intercept. Commence intercept.”
The interceptors rolled in, automatically guided by AC-4 into their dive. Yukikaze followed after them.
“Targets confirmed,” Lieutenant Burgadish said over the intercom. “Range of one-five-zero. At current speed, they should pass just under us in two minutes. Picking up scrambles from TAB-15 and 16.”
“What vector did they come in from? What about the Flip Knights?”
“Still haven’t launched,” answered Burgadish. “Three groups targeted, each group approximately forty units. Total of 120, closing range.”
“B-3, this is MK-1,” called out Colonel Guneau’s voice. “We’ll draw them off.”
It was rare for the Systems Corps to be participating in actual combat. The colonel’s confident voice now gave Rei a different impression than it had during the flight test. Back then it had seemed to him merely unpleasant; now, it had the tone of childish boasting. This is dangerous, Rei thought.
“MK-1, launch the Knights at once, then withdraw the carrier plane.”
The colonel asked why, probably suspicious of Rei’s reasons for requesting guidance authorization for the Knights.
“Lieutenant, one group of targets has begun to climb rapidly,” Burgadish warned. “Range nine-zero.”
“Colonel Guneau, this isn’t a flight test. The JAM are headed for the carrier plane too. You think they’re just going to turn off or pass by you?”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
The enemy was drawing closer, and Rei dismissed the colonel from his thoughts.
The JAM penetrated the Early Warning Line.
Yukikaze’s central computer automatically began gathering data. The positions of the JAM, the positions of the interceptors, tactical guidance data from the airborne control plane, the comm chatter between each plane, interception results: the computer voraciously sucked in all of it. If it noticed any data overlooked by the control plane that could be deemed a possible threat, Lieutenant Burgadish would inform the control plane or the interceptors, but they’d take no further support action beyond that. They would simply watch over the scene. The missiles Yukikaze carried were for her own defense, not for any sort of proactive attack. The interceptors could withdraw from the combat zone at full speed after releasing their missiles, but Yukikaze didn’t have that option. It hadn’t a single missile to spare to defend the other planes.
Burgadish’s analysis showed that the vanguard within the three clusters of JAM aircraft appeared to be anti-interceptor assault units.
“They’re all giving off the same radar emissions and are all the same size. Can’t ID them, though… The main force is to the rear, surrounded by escort units, possibly dummy planes. Their target points are our frontline bases, Faery Base, and if they break through, they might even try diving into Earth itself.”
“They’re unmanned?”
“Considering we don’t actually know what the JAM really look like, I can’t say for sure. But they may be autonomously functioning units, like the Flip Knight.”
No human had ever made direct contact with the JAM, and so nobody knew exactly what sort of life-form they were. A strange thought suddenly crossed Rei’s mind: Maybe they weren’t living creatures at all. Maybe they were something that defied all human comprehension.
“Lieutenant, two bandits, closing fast. Range three-zero, bearing 1-6-R.”
“Engaging.”
Medium-range air-to-air missiles set to attack mode. Auto intercept system, activated. The intercept computer automatically acquired the two approaching targets. After releasing two missiles simultaneously, Yukikaze rolled away from them.
Switching the throttle control to auto mode, the computer opened up the throttles to MAX. Analyzing the situation, it calculated the optimal withdrawal course, then automatically cancelled the intercept system as the threats were terminated.
“Main enemy force passing directly below us…Flip Knights, launching!”
Gun mode didn’t activate the auto intercept system, and Rei wondered whether he would have been able to beat the Knights if he’d used it. Maybe, but in a way, it would have only confirmed the colonel’s theory. There was no time to think about it now. He pursued the moving battle line of the JAM invasion. The Knight’s carrier plane retreated before them.
The JAM had lost close to a third of their number at the Early Warning Line, but the main formation penetrated C-zone unscathed. Command and control passed from AC-4 to AC-3. Faery Base’s intercept control computer was probably working at full capacity.
Yukikaze was flying at high altitude, looking down on the targets from thirty thousand meters, using its powerful pulse Doppler radar to monitor the JAM flying ahead and below at a line-of-sight distance of seventy klicks. Rei maintained this distance as they flew. The JAM were on a straight-line course for Faery Base. The invasion was on.
The multidisplay was lit up like a Christmas tree. The interceptors launched by the frontline division bases were fighting hard. The JAM reassumed their V-shaped battle formation, with the main force splitting into smaller formations on the left and right. They seemed to be headed for frontline bases TAB-15 and 16. Rei adjusted his own course to starboard. MK-1, the Flip Knight’s carrier plane, was on course for TAB-15, the JAM’s main objective.
“Enemy, increasing speed,” said Lieutenant Burgadish. “Speed of one-point-seven. Just under four minutes out from TAB-15.”
“B-3 to MK-1. Withdraw.”
On the display, the JAM were quickly closing in on MK-1. Five Flip Knights prepared to intercept them. The symbols on the display were so close together now that they were almost merged. But Rei decided that it was all right. The JAM were slipping past the carrier plane two klicks to its side—
“EMP, confirmed! Nuclear detonation!” Burgadish shouted. “Looks like the Knights destroyed a JAM missile in the middle of the formation.”
A warning tone sounded and a readout suddenly appeared on the stores control panel. RDY FK I II V.
“The carrier plane’s gone. I estimate that nuke was in the fifty kiloton range. Eight targets now closing on TAB-15.”
“MK-1. Colonel.” There was no reply. “MK-1, this is B-3. AC-3, respond.”
“This is AC-3. MK-1 has been destroyed. B-3, provide guidance for K-I, II, and V. K-III and IV have been shot down.”
“How much longer can the Knights stay in the air?”
“About three-zero more minutes. Indicating attack targets. B-3, don’t get too close to the JAM.”
“B-3, roger.”
Rei flipped the Knight guidance switch on the stores control panel, establishing a command link between Yukikaze and the Knights independent of the other planes. He pushed the missile release button and Yukikaze’s fire control system sent the Knights toward the targets indicated by the control plane.
There were eight large JAM aircraft flying in formations of two, three, and three. They kept at a distance of about five klicks from each other, never drawing any closer, and from this Burgadish reckoned the one unit in the center was carrying a nuclear missile.
“They’re maintaining a space cushion so that they aren’t all destroyed in case that missile detonates.”
The three Flip Knights were nipping at the heels of one of the three-ship JAM formations. The JAM fighters quickly detected the pursuit and the two groups of planes began to maneuver. Rei flicked the dogfight switch to OFF with the tip of his finger, transferring the Knights’ gun control from Yukikaze to the individual units so that they could attack on their own judgment. Since the control protocol was hastily installed temporary logic, he couldn’t give them advance guidance control. Rei left it to the Knights themselves.
The data transmitted by the Knights was projected onto the HUD as he watched. The three enemy craft were coming into the Knights’ firing range when one of the JAM pulled a snap turn and rushed at Knight-I to attack. Knight-II provided cover, crossing Knight-I’s flight path, and a firing cue appeared on the HUD as Knight-II opened up with its laser cannon, annihilating the JAM fighter. Knight-I continued straight along the clear path that had been opened up for it, with Knight-II now to its rear, providing backup.
The other two JAM moved into a fighting wing formation, closing on their target at supersonic speed. Now that it had become apparent that they’d most likely lose in a dogfight, the JAM to the rear seemed to be sacrificing themselves to shield the nuclear missile carrier that was now in the lead, and worse still, accelerating.
Knight-V charged forward and began firing its laser at the fighters as soon as they were in range. A hit.
Having lost its escorts, the last JAM flew on, staying just outside of firing range. They were now barely six minutes from the target point.
This was all happening too far away to be seen by his naked eye, so Rei watched it on his HUD and on the multidisplay below. Humans aren’t necessary, huh? he thought bitterly. Colonel Guneau had died in battle precisely because humans were necessary to the fight. Rei could feel it in his skin, as though he’d been struck. That’s right, he thought. I’m the one who’s fighting here. It wasn’t the JAM versus Earth machines: it was the JAM versus people, just as Major Booker had said. It was just so obvious, but… Watching the movements of the JAM and the Knights on the displays was more than enough to cause his misgivings to well up. He was beset by a powerful feeling of alienation, as though his mechanical allies were fighting of their own accord.
Maybe they are, Rei thought as a shudder traveled down his spine. Perhaps it wasn’t such an obvious truth that people were necessary to the fight. The JAM were aliens. It wouldn’t be so incredible for them to believe that it was machines, not humans, that ruled Earth.
Humanity believed that the JAM had arbitrarily attacked them, but perhaps Earth’s machines had accepted the JAM’s declaration of war. If that were true, then humans had no reason to be in this war. If that were true, then the JAM and Earth’s machines might regard this as their fight, one that humans had no place in.
Rei gave his head a quick shake, as though to drive the thought from his mind. That’s crazy.
“Targets increasing velocity. Speed now three-zero… The Knights can’t catch up to them.”
Before Burgadish had even finished speaking, Rei had keyed the dogfight switch to ON and pulled the trigger. Knight-I and V, nearest to the targeted JAM, fired their lasers. There was a long delay from Knight-II, or rather, it seemed like a long delay but was not even five seconds. Target detonation. Knight-I and V couldn’t avoid being caught in the heart of the nuclear blast. However, Knight-II quickly changed course and fled. Almost as though it were alive.
“B-3,” came the call from the control plane. “Send K-II to the target indicated. What’s wrong, B-3? You want the Knight to get lost?”
Rei came to himself again. He released his finger from the trigger. The stores control panel read RDY FK II.
Knight-I and V had disappeared. Flipping the dogfight switch to OFF, he guided Knight-II to its next target.
“Come back alive,” Rei murmured. At the very least, don’t get killed. He could sort all this out later. He’d have plenty of time. As long as he kept himself alive.