IV Indian Summer
To him, tears were simply a bodily necessity, the fluid that protected his eyes and allowed him to see. Nothing more. Emotions knew no place in combat. Therefore, he knew no sadness.
THE FAF’S AEROSPACE Defense Corps and the JAM were joined in battle.
Captain Munch nudged his beloved Sylphid’s side stick. Responding immediately to the slight increase in horizontal pressure, the side force controller engaged, and the Sylph slid right, keeping its nose facing forward. Dogfight mode. Enemy in sight. The targeting reticule’s distance gauge shrank. He pulled the gun trigger. The airframe shook. A flash, then black smoke.
“Got him! Good kill!” yelled his EWO, Second Lieutenant Chu, from the rear seat. “That bandit’s toast. Let’s head home.”
“Roger that,” the captain replied. The combat airspace was too large for him to be in visual contact with the other planes in his squadron, but here and there across the sky he could see clouds of black smoke marking their defeat of the JAM aircraft.
After a while, his comrades’ planes began to gather from all points. They retook a tight combat formation—maintaining a scant hundred meters from wingtip to wingtip—as they headed for Banshee-IV, their flying aircraft carrier.
“The enemy today didn’t seem too tough.”
“That’s ’cause they’re no match for the Sylphs.”
“Check it out,” said Chu, gesturing upwards with his thumb. “The tourist’s going home.”
A Super Sylph passed high over Echo Squadron, moving at supersonic speed.
“It’s one of the SAF pukes from the Tactical Air Force. Boomerang Squadron.”
“Huh. He’s fast. I doubt we could catch him.”
“No joke. He’s strapped onto twin Phoenix Mk-X engines. Those things’re built for supercruising.”
“But they’re meant more for speed than for mobility, right? We probably couldn’t take him at distance, but I bet we could if we lured him into a dogfight.”
“He’d just bug out of there immediately. I could hit my V-max switch and he’d still be able to outrun us at normal power without breaking a sweat. Pisses me off, though. Him just bailing on us without a single word.”
Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta wings of Echo Squadron rejoined. The SAF Super Sylph was now beyond their radar range. No sign of it remained.
“Home, sweet home, dead ahead.”
“Back in dear Banshee’s belly,” sang Captain Munch, in high spirits. “We drink, we laugh, and we party. She swallows us whole, and—” He laughed. “Man, all I need is my guitar and it’d be perfect.”
“Screw the guitar. It’d be a helluva lot more perfect if there were some hot girls.”
Lieutenant Chu checked the radar display. They were sixty klicks out from the flying carrier, a giant, nuclear-powered air base that stayed aloft in perpetual orbit around the FAF’s air defense zone.
The carrier sent out an IFF query signal, and Chu confirmed that their response equipment was functioning. The entire procedure was completed automatically. Or it should have been.
“That’s funny. Banshee’s being really insistent.”
“It didn’t make a mistake with the IFF code, did it?”
“I doubt they’d forget to check if the code was changed. What’s going on over there? Banshee, this is Echo 1, come in.”
“Banshee, honey, your husband’s home. How about you—”
“Cut the chatter!” Lieutenant Chu yelled. “Multiple mediumrange missiles, closing!”
“No welcome-home kiss, huh? Oh man, tell me this is not happening.”
“Shit, why’re they shooting at their own people?!” The combat support lines were now cut.
“What the hell’s going on with Banshee’s crew?”
Missiles exploded in front of them.
“They got Alpha 4!”
The RWR warning tone was blaring. Captain Munch snapped his plane over into a power dive, dumping chaff as he went. They plummeted toward the forests of Faery until at the last moment Munch lit the afterburners. As they kicked in the Sylph rocketed into a turn and climbed. Flying through the glittering chaff, the missile lost track of the plane for a moment. It quickly reacquired the target and began maneuvering to resume its pursuit, but it ran out of time and plunged into the forest.
The Sylph shuddered in the shock wave of the explosion.
“That was some high-power missile. Way better than what the JAM use.”
“This is no joke! Everyone’s gonna get shot down at this rate.”
“Lieutenant, plot a return course.”
“What are you planning?”
“I’m gonna reacquaint the lady with her husband’s face.”
Munch shoved the throttle forward. The induction temperature rose and low-altitude air turbulence shook the airframe as the engines keened.
“Hang in there, you suffering bastards. Don’t you disgrace the Phoenix name.”
“This isn’t a Super Sylph, you know!”
They were now in visual contact with Banshee. It was black, massive in scale, with broad flight decks and huge, angled wings that made it seem as if it were flying upside down.
Munch kept his distance and flew around it.
“Wish we had some binoculars. Shit, can you see anything?”
“Careful. The point defense system is activating.”
Radar-linked machine guns opened fire, narrowly missing them as Munch kept them out of range.
“Jesus, they’re throwing 20mm rounds at us. They all gone nuts in there? They damn well know who we are. Now I’m starting to get pissed—”
“Short-range missile, closing! Break, starboard!”
They juked to the right.
“No good! It’s got us!”
The missile’s VT fuse activated and flames burst from Munch’s starboard engine. The fuel supply automatically cut off and automatic fire extinguishers activated. The black smoke pouring from the engine changed to white. It held out only for a moment though, and then caught fire again. The fire warning alarm began to wail.
“Captain, we have to punch out!”
The EJECT warning lit up on the display.
In the backseat, Lieutenant Chu checked the ejection control lever. It was in the pilot command position, which meant that if he pulled it only his seat would be ejected.
“Captain!”
Chu slid the control lever to the flight officer command position, and the eject indicator changed to FO command mode.
“Wait!” yelled Munch. “We’re still going too fast. I’ll do it!”
If the pilot executed the eject command, both seats would be ejected. The lieutenant obeyed his captain. The plane was barely holding level.
“Here we go.” Munch raised his fist, the sign that they were going to eject.
He reached up behind him and pulled the face curtain down over his head, which automatically initiated the ejection process. The kinetic inertial reels of their restraints activated, slamming them back into their seats. The sill lock released, the canopy blew off, and the catapult gun ignited.
Lieutenant Chu went first, rocketing up and to the right, followed a half-second later by Captain Munch, up and to the left. The IFF and ECM equipment self-destructed. Under each ejection seat, a gas generator activated, igniting a rocket that hurled the men far from the disintegrating plane.
The drogue guns on the ejection seats fired out their chutes. At the same time, the harnesses and lap belts released. The small drogue chutes opened, and after a programmed time delay drew the main chutes out of their canisters. The shock of the main chutes opening released the sticker clips, separating the men’s bodies from the seats. As Captain Munch descended, he glanced back at the Sylph, now engulfed in flames. He said a silent farewell to his beloved plane and watched as it exploded, the fragments scattering as they fell.
I won’t forget this, Banshee, he thought to himself. I’ll rip your guts out, you murderous bitch.
Munch was suddenly aware of how cold it was. His radio beacon was operating and he had his survival kit, but he still prayed that the search and rescue team would find them soon.
The black bulk of Banshee-IV disappeared from sight. All he could hear now was the sound of wind. He wondered if they had just been attacked by a ghost.
HIS TACTICAL RECONNAISSANCE mission complete, Lieutenant Rei Fukai returned to Faery Base. Not long after, he was summoned to appear before the SAF deputy commander, General Cooley.
When he entered Cooley’s office, she didn’t acknowledge his salute, but he didn’t take offense. Her attention was fixed on a display linked to the main strategic computer in the SAF’s mission control room. He stood silently at attention until she spoke at last.
“Banshee-IV’s entire fighter squadron was destroyed,” she said slowly. “Is that what you observed, Lieutenant?”
“I recall observing the reverse. I saw them destroy the JAM squadron,” Rei replied. “But if Yukikaze’s data file says that wasn’t the case, then it wasn’t the case.”
“You are correct. So is Yukikaze’s data file. The incident occurred after the air battle.”
“Incident? There was an ambush or something?”
“I wish I could say otherwise.”
The general relayed to him what they knew so far about the situation, indicating the elements on the display as she spoke. It showed analysis results of the aircraft positions, comm records, armaments used by Banshee, radar frequencies, top secret ECM and ECCM, IFF operational conditions, and so on at the time of the incident.
“You’ve got a lot of electronic warfare data there,” Rei said. “Yukikaze could have collected the same intel easily, though.”
“This is all data obtained from crew members of Banshee-IV who managed to escape. Banshee was attacked by a single JAM aircraft just after it launched all of its onboard fighters. The incident began right after that aircraft was shot down. Banshee’s crew lost control of all electronic equipment. Since the nuclear reactor was unstable, the captain ordered all hands to abandon ship. Banshee continued flying unmanned and then attacked its returning fighters. Miraculously, nobody was killed.”
“So what does this have to do with me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said, what does this have to do with me?”
The general sighed. “We need to find out what happened to Banshee-IV. The FAF Intelligence forces suspect that one of the crew may have sabotaged the onboard electronics systems,” she explained.
“The JAM aren’t the only enemy the FAF has. An agent from Earth may have infiltrated us in order to prolong the war here,” Rei said.
“That’s ridiculous. Our enemy is the JAM.”
“Then the JAM have taken over Banshee-IV. And if that’s the case, we have to bring it down.”
“Taken over by the JAM? Seriously?” she asked.
“First you don’t believe it’s an agent from Earth and now you don’t believe it’s the JAM. Don’t jerk me around, General. This isn’t my problem, and I couldn’t care less what’s happening aboard Banshee. And besides, Banshee’s air team were idiots. If it was shooting at them, they should have shot back. If it was me, I wouldn’t care if it was a carrier, or a plane that looked like a Sylph, or someone wearing a general’s rank insignia. Anyone who fires on Yukikaze is an enemy, and if she says it’s an enemy, I’ll pull the trigger without a second thought. That’s war. You think too long and you die. But you wouldn’t understand that.”
“Watch how you speak to me, Lieutenant.”
“All right then, General Cooley, ma’am, may I please be dismissed?”
Rei coldly watched as she visibly struggled to bring her anger under control. Although she was irritated by his insubordinate attitude, he had no intention of changing his behavior and had little sympathy for her in having someone like himself under her command. He knew she had never tasted the bitterness of wondering during a takeoff whether you were ever going to land again. She’d never experienced combat with the JAM, who had no morals and no sense of honor. Rank meant nothing out there. Neither did emotions.
If I died, Rei thought, I wonder if the general would regret the loss of a good soldier. Maybe she’d give me a medal, but no way she’d ever shed a tear for me. She’d probably be relieved to be free of someone who spread pessimism like an infectious disease. Rei knew it, but…what did it matter?
Whatever anyone might feel after he died was none of his concern. His sole concern was fighting the JAM and getting back alive. As far as the general’s feelings went, he couldn’t care less.
“Lieutenant, I’m ordering you to investigate the Banshee-IV incident. You’ll be assigned an analysis expert to assist you. Major Booker will give you the details. Dismissed.”
“Understood.” He snapped a salute.
He left Cooley’s office and went to Major Booker. Upon seeing Rei, the major shrugged his shoulders and said he sympathized.
“You probably said something to piss off General Wrinkles again, Rei.”
“Apparently I piss her off just by standing there in front of her. It’s not my fault.”
Booker sighed. “Just please don’t make her any madder than usual. Please. Any shit you dish out ends up being served back to me.”
“Come on, it’s not like you’re getting shot at.”
“The JAM you can dodge. The general, there’s no escape from.”
Booker gathered up some papers, shuffled through them, then slapped them down on the desk again.
“Strange incident, though. She told you about it, right?”
“If it’s such a big deal, why am I getting tagged with the investigation?”
“There’re reasons, which she would’ve explained to you—if she felt like it. Rei, don’t misunderstand: the FAF isn’t a business and we aren’t employees. It’s an air force, and it’s run on orders, not complaints. Orders that run from the top to the bottom. It doesn’t work in the other direction. An army can’t be run from the bottom.”
“Yeah, I know. But Jack, why is she always so mad at me? What should I do?”
“A beaten dog will still obey you…as long as it doesn’t get too big to control.”
“Right. So is Earth beating the JAM? Or is it the other way around?”
“I fail to see the humor, Lieutenant.”
They left Booker’s office and went into the SAF briefing room. The major switched on the wall display and pulled up some radar imagery.
“This is Banshee-IV. It’s maintaining its usual course even though no one’s aboard. Actually, we don’t know that for sure. Someone may be aboard.”
“Where’s this imagery from? An ADC recon plane?”
“No,” replied the major as he filled his coffee cup. “This is real-time data from Boomerang Unit 6, Minx. They’re using our proprietary SSL encryption to transmit. The reason why is that the FAF brass have begun a confidential investigation. They’re grilling Banshee’s crew for information and keeping the guys from the fighter squadron canned up like Spam. They hope that it’s the JAM that caused this. The second-best scenario would be a mechanical failure, which would be more serious but still relatively simple to deal with. But if it’s neither, if this incident was caused by someone from Earth, then it’s not just the FAF’s problem anymore.”
“And it would be a pretty damn good justification for a fight between the FAF and Earth. How pissed off would the general be if I said that?”
“Rei, please. You go around staying stuff like that and FAF Intelligence’ll have your arse in the stockade in a heartbeat. The FAF’s duty is to protect Earth from the JAM, but it has to protect itself as well. There are a lot of people on Earth lately who’re saying the FAF isn’t necessary, and Intelligence has to counter that.”
“Counter it without anyone noticing they’re countering it.”
“Exactly. They can’t be obvious about it. People on Earth are so far removed from the battlefield that they don’t understand how bad the JAM really are. Some are even wondering if the FAF are the JAM. There may even be people within our own forces who are working to dismantle the organization.”
Rei turned the coffee cup the major gave him around in his hand. “They think the FAF have created the JAM, you mean? What do you think about that, Jack?”
The major shut off the display and sat down. “I’ve definitely noticed a change in the JAM’s behavior between now and the time when I was a fighter pilot.”
“As in, they’re not as openly aggressive as they used to be?” Rei asked. “The JAM are altering their strategy, Jack. I think the threat now is higher than it used to be. The fact that there are now people saying the FAF isn’t necessary is proof that their invasion has advanced. If the JAM were a mirage created by the FAF, they wouldn’t be using that strategy.” Rei sipped his coffee. “But it doesn’t really matter to me. I’m a grunt. I just gotta follow orders. Right, Major?”
“You say ‘It doesn’t matter’ an awful lot lately for someone so talkative, you know.”
“The JAM are a powerful enemy. I’ve finally come to understand that, but that’s all I understand. If Lynn Jackson had spent time here, she probably wouldn’t have written such an optimistic book.”
“That’s possible,” said Major Booker, nodding. “She needs to write a follow-up. But I doubt she ever will. Back on Earth they just don’t understand how much of a threat the JAM is. It’s frightening.”
“I’ll leave that to the Intelligence forces to handle. We aren’t intelligence operators. We’re soldiers.”
“You got that right.”
Booker worked the display controls and brought up data on Banshee-IV. “You’re going to land on this thing with Yukikaze. You don’t need to worry about being attacked. We’ve confirmed that Banshee’s exhausted all her weaponry. I want you to find out what’s happened on board. Yukikaze is being installed with a special-purpose landing system as we speak, so it should be easy for you.” The major gestured toward the glass wall of the briefing room that overlooked the maintenance floor. Yukikaze was being towed out.
“So it’s going to be kind of like a carrier landing? I thought they had to extend a hook from Banshee to recover its fighters.”
“That’s what they did in the old days, back in the age of airships when they’d have the planes hanging beneath the carrier. But times have changed. Any plane can land on Banshee, and it’s been designed to take on aircraft making emergency landings. Special equipment isn’t necessary. You should be able to land there with just a standard arresting hook, but we’re still installing an automatic carrier landing system. It’s nothing fancy, just modifying the avionics software a bit. And to be safe, we’re fitting six wire anchor launchers along her underside as well.”
Major Booker suggested that they test them out, so he and Rei went down to the maintenance floor. After the mechanics gave them the thumbs-up, Rei got into Yukikaze’s cockpit while the major settled into the rear seat. The mechanics removed the external ladder and moved away from the plane.
“Rei, look at your arresting hook control panel. There should be an AUX control switch. That should trigger the launchers for the wire anchors. Give it a try.”
Rei turned the switch. With a loud wham, thin wires shot out from under Yukikaze and embedded themselves into a dummy board that had been laid down over the floor of the bay. The sharp, recurved heads of the wires stuck fast.
“Normally, you wouldn’t need this because the plane would be caught by the arresting cables. There’s a self-propelled, robotic spotting dolly on Banshee’s deck. It keeps the plane’s attitude correct and shuttles the launch bar back, but we don’t know if it’s working. If it isn’t, the aircraft stowage elevator may not be working, either.” Booker climbed out of the plane.
“If it isn’t,” Rei said as he followed the major down, “Yukikaze will be stuck on Banshee’s deck. I won’t exactly be able get out and stroll around out there. The thing is flying, after all.”
“It’s moving at less than 120 knots, but yeah, it’d be certain suicide if you tried it.”
“Even if I wasn’t blown off I probably wouldn’t even be able to breathe because of the wind pressure.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.”
“It better be a good one, Jack. If I go rolling off of there, ‘Oops, sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it.”
“You’ve had wind tunnel resistance training, right? Relax. Leave it to me.”
Rei followed the major across the maintenance floor and into the personnel elevator.
“We have another place to go?”
“I want to introduce you to your partner. His name’s Tom John, from the Systems Corps. Everyone calls him “Tomahawk.” I think his real first name may be Thomas, but I’m not sure. What I do know for sure is that he’s a genius at avionics.”
“Tomahawk? He’s an Indian?”
“Yeah. They say he’s a genuine Native American. Think he was born in Canada.”
They entered the SAF mission control room. It was a highceilinged chamber, its walls filled with battle progress displays crowded with code letters and data transmitted from the Tactical Air Force’s GHQ.
Tom John was drinking coffee and chatting with a female operator. Seeing Major Booker, he put the cup down onto the console and saluted. He had sunken cheeks, reddish brown skin, and long black hair that was tied back. His physique was slight. Compared to the large woman next to him, he could almost be mistaken for a child. But the impression Rei got from him belied his physical appearance. He was, without a doubt, a soldier. Rei thought that his eyes were like those of a hawk.
“Hi, Tom,” said the major in a friendly tone. “Welcome to the SAF. So, getting to know us?”
The operator coughed and turned back to her console.
“Yep,” answered Tomahawk with a smile. “You’re lucky—the SAF has a lot of pretty girls here.”
“Speaking of, our little tomboy Minx should be back soon. How’s she doing, Hikalatia?”
“Minx is scheduled to return at 2220,” said the operator. “Banshee-IV has no means of attack, and there’s been no unusual activity.”
“Like I said before, Banshee exhausted all of its missiles and gun ammo. But there is the possibility that it could be directed to crash into Faery Base. Anyway, Tom, let me introduce you. This is Lieutenant Rei Fukai, one of our top Sylph drivers.”
“Man, the SAF really does run itself like an independent air force. Everything you guys have is top-shelf. I’m sure your skills are worthy of your plane, Lieutenant. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m good as long as I’ve got Yukikaze.”
Rei expressionlessly held out his hand, and the other man clasped it, accepting the handshake.
“Huh,” said Booker. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen a Boomerang pilot shake someone’s hand. Tom, you’re the only one aside from Yukikaze that Rei’s ever extended a hand to. The only things he trusts are high-tech combat machines.”
“Really?” said Tomahawk with a smile. “Then maybe he sees me as a machine.” He laughed lightly, but Rei thought that his smile was strangely sad.
THE NEXT MORNING, Boomerang Squadron Unit 3, Yukikaze, took off into a clear sky.
As they entered a steep climb, the ACLS beacon ran through its self-test. Rei confirmed that the carrier simulator on the ground was giving him an okay. He rechecked the engine gauges and confirmed that all caution lights were clear. Speed was Mach 0.9.
He slid the throttle forward. The airspeed indicator reeled through the numbers, and not even ninety seconds later their speed was Mach 2.3. He leveled off their climb at an altitude of 13,000 meters, cruising at supersonic speed.
“It’ll be winter soon,” said Tomahawk from the backseat. “The autumn colors in the forest are already turning, but the weather’s still a little hot. Around where I’m from back on Earth, they call that ‘Indian summer.’ It’s like the spirits are sending some last warm light to the world as a gift to us.”
“Down there the war seems far away. It’d be the perfect sightseeing spot, if it weren’t for the JAM,” said Rei.
“Faery doesn’t belong to us or to the JAM.”
Rei rechecked their position on his HUD. They were about to cross the Absolute Defense Line. He activated the passive airspace radar.
“I don’t think the Earth itself belongs to us, Tom. The only thing people really own are their own hearts.”
“So there are some people who believe that God didn’t give us the animals and plants and all of nature on Earth to do with as we please. That’s a very Asian way of seeing things.”
“I don’t really consider myself Asian. Maybe it’s the Faery way of seeing things. You live here long enough and you start thinking that way. Earth doesn’t belong to humans. That’s a fact. Or, at the very least, it doesn’t belong to me.”
“I agree,” Tom said, sounding satisfied. “Me, I didn’t come here thinking that I wanted to defend the Earth, but even so I can’t deny that humans control it.”
“‘Control’ doesn’t necessarily equal ‘own.’”
“I feel like I’m about to get a lecture on the evils of the capitalist system.”
“I’d always heard that Native Americans value generosity.”
“I’m not really conscious of myself in that way, the same as how you don’t really think of yourself as Asian. But different races do see things differently. My grandfather had a saying: ‘When everyone eats together, the man who cares only about filling his own belly isn’t your friend.’ What he meant was, the only things that belong to you are what you can eat, what you can’t eat belongs to everyone, and what you haven’t hunted yet belongs to no one.”
“Then by that reasoning, Earth doesn’t belong to humans. It’s too big for anyone to swallow.”
The air collision avoidance alarm sounded. Ahead were four Tactical Air Force fighters, flying at the same altitude and heading. Yukikaze’s escorts. As the Super Sylph approached, the fighters peeled off to the left and right to open a path. Yukikaze flew ahead in a straight line and overtook them in an instant.
“Our TAF backup ends here. From this point on, we’re on our own.”
Rei toggled the master arm switch to ARM.
“You know, I think your grandfather had a point.”
Maybe if everyone around me were more like that, I’d be a different person, thought Rei. Everyone else just seemed like they were trying to thrust their hands into the bellies of others.
“My father and grandfather spent their entire lives on the reservation. But that life wasn’t for me. I came here because there weren’t any avionics jobs in the air force reserves, either.”
“I heard you helped make a lot of Yukikaze’s electronics systems. She’s a good plane. I respect that.”
“I worked in the sections that developed the basic theory for her high-speed fire control system and the early-warning radar system. But it’d be kind of pushing things to say that I made them. That’s not something anyone can do on their own. So what brought you to Faery, Lieutenant?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Using the word ‘respect’ doesn’t seem like something a Boomerang pilot would do. I was warned that you all were mean, icy-hearted bastards.”
“I am. I don’t think about protecting anything but Yukikaze. Not the Earth or my homeland.” The image of his former girlfriend’s face suddenly floated up in his mind. No, not even her. If he was being honest with himself, he never really knew her at all. All he could remember clearly was the sight of her back as she walked away.
“Speaking of your homeland, Lieutenant, I went there once. I wasn’t allowed in, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was because of my heart. It’s mechanical. I guess you could call me a cyborg,” Tomahawk said jokingly.
“A cyborg, huh? But why should that have mattered? An artificial heart’s no different from having a prosthetic arm or corneal implants. Why wouldn’t they let you in?”
“The problem was the energy source. It’s powered by a piece of plutonium 238. The output’s only twenty watts, but even though it’s a low-power mechanism it’s still a nuclear one.”
“And that’s why they denied you entry? That’s ridiculous. Japan has nukes.”
“They’re afraid of uncontrolled nuclear material. It’s not just Japan. People like me have a lot of trouble living on Earth. They don’t use nuclear-powered hearts that much nowadays. The heat they generate makes it hard to control fluctuations in body temperature, and treatment is difficult because it’s nuclear.”
“Is there a danger you could become a human bomb?”
“There’s no way it could ever explode. There’s so little nuclear material that it’s fundamentally impossible for it to cause a detonation. But if the containment capsule breaks, it could contaminate my surroundings with radioactivity. And if that happens, naturally I’d be finished as well. It’s a good heart, though. Without it, I would have died a long time ago. Still… Every so often, I wonder if I’m not actually a machine. When I’m denied entry to a country, it’s like they’re telling me I’m not human.”
“Don’t think that way. You’re alive. That’s enough. Or are you telling me that you’re actually a corpse? Because as far as I know, corpses can’t talk. By the way, you’re in the FAF, right? I just realized I never asked what your rank is.”
“I’m a captain,” answered Tomahawk. “For what it’s worth.”
“I didn’t mean any offense, Captain, sir.”
Rei took his right hand off the side stick and saluted.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Lieutenant.”
“We’re fine. I trust Yukikaze.”
“I trust your skill. I know the Super Sylph demands advanced piloting skills.”
“We’re nearly there. I’m switching on the armament control system. Prepare for combat.”
“Roger.”
Five minutes passed with neither of them speaking. Suddenly, an emergency transmission came in: PAN, PAN, PAN. DE FTNS. CODE U, U, U. AR.
“It’s from the tactical nav support satellite. ‘Your plane is drawing dangerously close. Change course.’ It’s weird to see that when we’re not closing in on an enemy. Respond to the IFF code.”
“Roger.”
After Yukikaze’s identity was confirmed, Banshee-IV’s exact position was sent to them in real time. A short time later, the carrier appeared on Yukikaze’s active radar as well. They began their descent.
“Call Banshee for landing clearance.”
The IFF was operating. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Banshee confirmed Yukikaze’s side number and granted them landing clearance. Arresting hook, down.
“What’s the deal? There’s nothing weird at all here. Maybe those Banshee pilots were having a mass hallucination.”
They passed the marshal point. Range forty kilometers. Relative altitude from Banshee 1,500 meters. The carrier’s automatic precision guidance system was operating.
Autopilot, off. ACLS, set. Auto-throttle, set. Fuel level, weight, tank distribution, and center of gravity, check.
They passed through the 30-kilometer gate. Speed 200 knots.
Landing gear and flaps, down. Anti-skid brake controller, off. Speed brake, extended.
They passed through the 10-kilometer gate. Relative altitude 300 meters. Banshee-IV came into view.
“Jesus, that thing’s huge. It’s so big, it’s kind of unsettling.”
“It says to use Fly 3 for landing.”
Banshee’s flight decks were designated as Fly 1, 2, and 3. Fly 3 was used exclusively for landings.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Don’t you think they’re being way too accommodating?”
They received the cue to begin their descent. They fell at a rate of 18 meters per minute and soon crossed the glide slope. The carrier’s landing guidance system meatball was now in sight.
“001, Sylph, meatball,” Rei called in.
The target designator on his HUD had now captured Banshee. As they approached, the carrier loomed larger and larger. The TD indicated part of Banshee’s starboard side, then suddenly jumped to the left: the target was so large that the system couldn’t capture the entire thing at once.
“Executing manual approach.”
“Why?” asked Tom. “You can use the ACLS.”
“Didn’t you say you trusted my skill?”
Rei cut off the approach power compensator. The auto-throttle caution light lit. Auto-throttle, off. Throttle mode to BOOST. He deactivated the ACLS and direct lift control systems.
Throttle to MAX. Lineup and elevation check. He was on approach now, taking care not to stray off of the glide slope. They passed over the landing threshold of Banshee-IV’s flight deck. Yukikaze executed a break turn and veered off to the port side of the carrier to get into the one-eighty position for landing. A head-up call came from Banshee.
“Nice of them to guide me in like this.”
“Let’s just land this thing, Lieutenant.”
“It’s the JAM. It’s gotta be. They want to take Yukikaze. They want to capture a Super Sylph.”
“That’s just speculation. We need proof. Isn’t that why we came here?”
“It is. But we’re not gonna land on Fly 3. I’m bringing us down on the aircraft stowage elevator.”
“Can you do that?”
“Yeah. I don’t want Yukikaze being restrained by Banshee.”
They entered final approach, moving away from the center indicated by the meatball. Yukikaze drew near the main elevator at the edge of the deck. Working the pitch control, Rei slowed his plane to match Banshee’s airspeed, managing to keep her roughly level despite the poor conditions caused by the wild air currents.
They fell slowly to the deck. Touchdown. For a second it seemed like they were going to bolter, and Rei broke out in a cold sweat. He worked the engine output control and flaps so that the counter airflow forced Yukikaze down. Success. They were on the elevator. Rei fired the wire anchors fixed to the fuselage, and the heads punched into the deck. The spotting dolly standing by approached and moved onto the elevator deck, its emergency light flashing red. The elevator began to descend.
Engines, off. Rei unhooked his harness and drew his service pistol from his vest. He checked the indicator pin to make sure that a round was chambered, then bent forward and pulled out the survival gun stowed under his seat.
The elevator came to a stop. A sliding bulkhead sealed off the egress above them. Rei popped the canopy open, then jumped down from Yukikaze, machine gun in hand, and opened fire on the dolly. The robot, which had been readying to tow Yukikaze into the hangar, exploded in a shower of sparks and fell silent. A burning smell hung in the air.
“Okay, you can come down now, Tom. We’ve got a job to do.”
It was dark inside the cavernous hangar. Only the emergency lights were on. Normally, the space would have been filled with carrier-based aircraft packed closely together with their wings folded up, but now it was deserted and seemed oddly huge. In the midst of the expanse there was only Yukikaze, her wings spread atop the elevator floor, looking like an animal pricking up its ears as it strained to listen for a predator.
“Why’d you shoot the spotting dolly?” asked Tomahawk as he climbed down from Yukikaze, a small all-purpose system analyzer in his hand. “Aren’t you being a little overcautious?”
“We should consider this place a JAM base. So watch your step. We don’t know what might come at us. This may be our chance to gather some intel, but it’d be worthless if we don’t make it back alive.”
“You’re thinking we could be the first humans to come into contact with an actual JAM?”
“We have no idea what form the JAM really possess. We assume they’ve been hiding from us and that they’ve never appeared in front of a human. That’s Lynn Jackson’s opinion, but I have a feeling that may be wrong. I wonder if it’s not that they won’t appear to humans, but that humans aren’t able to sense them.”
“Like spirits, you mean?”
“Maybe, maybe not. There’s also the possibility that we look at them without actually seeing them. We see JAM fighters, and we have no doubts that there are JAM inside of them or, even if there aren’t, that they were made by JAM ‘people.’ We don’t consider the possibility that the fighters may be the JAM themselves because that’s just too strange to us. The JAM also seem to be perplexed by the existence of these ‘humans’ they observe. Maybe they’re wondering, ‘What are those organic things attached to the fighters? What are they doing, wandering around on their own? Well, they seem harmless enough, so just ignore them.’ You can practically hear them saying it.”
“No way.”
Rei shrugged. “Let’s get going. We’ll leave Yukikaze’s ECM armament running. As soon as the secondary power supply runs out, we’re out of here, okay?”
“We could leave the engines running—”
“We can’t assume the exhaust will be vented out of here. We’ll end up croaking from carbon monoxide poisoning. Major Booker beefed up the auxiliary power, so we should have an hour.”
“Just one hour?”
“Personally, I’d like to get the hell out of here right now.”
Rei adjusted his grip on the machine gun.
The ventilation system in the hangar wasn’t operating. It was quiet. There were no vibrations. It almost seemed like they weren’t even flying. Rei urged Tomahawk onward as they headed for Banshee’s bridge. They didn’t use the elevator, and the sound that echoed as they climbed the gray metal ladders seemed awfully loud.
When they reached the bridge they found it brightly lit, with all the electronic equipment still functioning, which made the absence of any people seem even more eerie. The laser compass, course display, and navigation radar display were all operating. The helm control, which looked exactly like a ship’s wheel, was working automatically, making adjustments to Banshee’s flight. Rei pulled at it with one hand. No response. He tried disengaging the auto-control but was locked out. The helm continued moving on its own, completely ignoring his attempts.
“We need to get to the combat information control room,” Rei called out to Tomahawk.
“I’ll head to avionics control.”
“There’ll be strong security. It’s probably protected by three layers of blast doors.”
“There wouldn’t have been any point in coming here if I’d forgotten to bring the key,” Tomahawk said with a grin. “It’s the same access as what the captain and the avionics officer would have. Just leave it to me. I’ll go debug the computer. You’re seeing JAM where there aren’t any, Lieutenant.”
They left the bridge.
“But you brought a pistol too, right?” Rei said doggedly.
Tomahawk raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a good idea to start shooting when you’re surrounded by precision equipment that’s keeping you in the air. Don’t worry. Even if this is the JAM, they can’t do anything to me in the computer room. It’s the safest place on this ship. Just please keep an eye on Banshee’s course. I don’t want us to crash into the ground while we’re not looking.”
“Okay… But something is still making me nervous here.”
“That’s not like a Boomerang pilot.”
“I have a duty to bring you back in one piece.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. If you think about how gigantic and complex this whole system is, it’s no surprise that maintaining quality control is a hard thing. You aim for perfection when you design it, but unfortunately you can’t guarantee that there will absolutely never be any failures. Even if you get the failure rate down to one in ten quadrillion, you still can’t get it to zero. I think that when that JAM attacked, it caused a fault to appear by chance. The situation that would cause the fault to present itself just hadn’t happened until now.”
“You have fifty minutes, Tom. Don’t even think about trying to hunt down the errors. You just need to gather information. We can take our time to analyze it once we’re back. If you see any people, shoot them. They don’t need to threaten you, just shoot to kill.”
The engineer stopped and raised his hands in a “don’t worry” gesture and nodded.
“I’m serious, Tom. Don’t get careless. I’m on your side, but if you don’t get back in time, I’m leaving without you.”
“I doubt you’d really do that. You’re a good man. I’m starting to see why Major Booker relies on you. Rei, you won’t be in Boomerang Squadron forever. Some day, that icy heart of yours is going to melt.”
“Not just an avionics expert, you’re a psychic too?”
Tomahawk clapped Rei on the shoulder, then walked off through the narrow companionway. Rei watched him go, his machine gun lowered, until the diminutive figure rounded a corner and passed out of sight.
Rei made his way to the CIC. Once there, he sat down in the command chair and looked at the display. The now-unmanned Banshee-IV was continuing to be operated by a host of computerized systems.
On the screen he quickly cycled through the long-range search radar, course monitoring radar, warning radar, fire control radar, beacon, IFF transponder, weather monitoring read-outs, flight computer systems, all sorts of sensor data, an onboard command schematic of the ship, a chart showing the operational mode of the ship’s takeoff and landing guidance systems…
He laid the machine gun down on the console and leaned back in the seat, keeping his eyes on the data and occasionally checking his watch. The minutes crawled by. To help pass the time, he messed around with the fire control radar, thinking how he wouldn’t have been able to do a damned thing if he’d been targeted by it. It was a high-output radar, built to overpower JAM ECM, and its EM waves could cook an unprotected human from two klicks away. Yukikaze’s ECM would be no match for it.
Every so often, Rei was seized by a strange uneasiness and glanced around the abandoned CIC. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. After thirty minutes had passed, he knew he wasn’t just imagining it. He heard something. Coming from the air vent. His limbs tensed, adrenaline coursing through his system even as he doubted his own ears.
Keeping his gaze forward and posture relaxed, he felt for the machine gun. He secured his grip, snatched up the gun, jumped onto the console, and smashed open the vent grill near the ceiling with the shoulder stock.
There was a faint sound. He ripped the flashlight from his life vest and pointed the beam down the duct.
A rat. A normal Earth rat. Feeling half relieved and half disappointed, Rei jumped down from the console. Maybe Banshee’s been taken over by the rats and not the JAM, he thought with black humor. Rats were an indispensable part of any ship.
He called Tomahawk on the intercom. No answer. Probably completely engrossed with his work. Rei sat down again and waited patiently.
Forty minutes. Forty-one minutes. Forty-two minutes. Fortythree minutes.
Still no word from the other man.
Forty-five minutes. Forty-six.
He couldn’t wait any longer. Yukikaze was more important to him than Banshee was.
Just as he was about to get up, a warning klaxon began to blare throughout the ship. It was so loud and sudden that it caused Rei to literally jump to his feet.
Gripping the machine gun, he checked the display. Condition red. He sprang at the intercom.
“What is it?! What’s happened?!”
No answer.
This didn’t seem like a malfunction. He ran out of the CIC and through the mazelike interior of the ship toward the central avionics room where Tomahawk was. When he saw signs warning “No entry without authorization of AV officer,” “Area off-limits without captain’s permission,” and “Suspicious individuals will be shot on sight,” he knew he was nearing the right place.
A blast door. Another blast door. And still another.
White, brightly lit. A clean room. A frigid redoubt for the avionics equipment.
“Tom! Tomahawk! Tom John, answer me!”
He ran through the room, searching for Tomahawk between the equipment stacks as the klaxon continued to wail. He finally found the engineer lying face down on the floor. Rei ran up and grabbed him, turned him over, then dropped him in instinctive revulsion. Tomahawk’s chest was covered by a wriggling mass of small, black, insectlike creatures.
JAM? He brushed them off with his flight-gloved hand. They felt like pieces of metal.
“Hang on, Tom. We’re getting out of here.”
The engineer’s face looked drained of blood. Rei slapped his cheek and he stirred.
“Rei…” Tom groaned. “You were right. They were looking for the control circuitry for my heart… They’ve screwed it up. Get out of here fast, Lieutenant. Banshee’s going to crash soon… I smashed the cooling system for the avionics control. You have to escape before the other systems break down.” Keeping Banshee’s electronics properly cooled consumed 300 kilowatts of power and a half a ton of coolant every minute. It wouldn’t be long before they started to overheat.
“If it’s going down, we can still get you out on Yukikaze.”
Rei shouldered the machine gun and tried to help Tomahawk to his feet, but the other man refused to cooperate.
“I wanted to take out these guys with my own hands… I’m done, Rei. The JAM have wrecked my heart. Even if you got me aboard Yukikaze, I wouldn’t make it back to base… Get out of here now, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”
“This can’t be happening. If I’d just stayed with you, I—” Rei stopped, his eyes widening.
The black things that had been scattered on the floor were coming together, coalescing into a single, large, insectoid shape. A multicellular mechanical life-form. A JAM spy.
“Lieutenant, there’s no time. I don’t think those things will touch a human. If they wanted to kill us, they could have done it easily… They probably thought I was a machine. A machine… Am I a machine?”
“Don’t try to talk. I’m taking you back, no matter what.”
Just as Rei was leveling his machine gun at the JAM, it released a high-density burst of energy. The shock wave hurled Rei back into the panel behind him. Momentarily stunned, he took a few heaving breaths, registered that he still had a grip on the gun, then lifted it and opened up at the JAM. It scattered into its component parts. He scrambled to his feet, feeling a vague surprise that he didn’t seem to be badly injured.
The JAM weren’t after Rei. They wanted Tomahawk. Or, more accurately, Tomahawk’s heart.
“Tom John! Captain!”
“Stay back!” Tom rasped, his voice barely audible. “You’ll be exposed to the radiation… Rei, just tell me… I am human… aren’t I?”
“Of course you are. You are.” You’re alive. That’s enough. Or are you telling me that you’re actually a corpse? “Captain John… Tomahawk!”
Rei watched as the captain’s still form was haloed by the rich red of his blood seeping onto the floor. He turned away, snatched up the system analyzer as a memento, and ran for the exit. As he grasped the blast door handle, he looked back at Tomahawk.
The single imperative order of Boomerang Squadron clawed at his mind: make it back alive, even if you have to let your comrades die.
A corpse is just a thing… Rei said his farewells to the dead man, then sprinted toward Yukikaze.
He made it to the hangar bay. He vaulted up the boarding ladder, tossing the system analyzer into the cockpit, then sank into his seat. Engine start. He was about to execute the command to raise the elevator when he suddenly realized: this wasn’t the main hangar. The spotting dolly he’d blown up wasn’t there. A shudder convulsed through him, as though he’d been doused with icy water, and he scrambled out of the seat. The engines continued to rev up. No. That wasn’t the sound of the Phoenix Mk-X. It was only just the slightest bit different, but those weren’t Phoenixes.
This wasn’t Yukikaze.
It was identical in appearance, but Rei knew. This wasn’t his beloved plane. It was a copy made by the JAM. He clung onto the edge of the cockpit and switched the engines off. They wouldn’t stop. Were the JAM intending to infiltrate the SAF’s main base with this decoy?
He emptied the machine gun’s entire clip into the plane’s consoles. The engines still didn’t stop. He hurled the gun away and looked around for the firefighting truck that should be present in the hangar. He saw it, ran over and jumped into it, then backed it up to the ghost plane. He opened the fire extinguishing door on the side of the near engine and shoved the extinguisher nozzle from the truck into it. He opened up the retardant and black smoke began gushing from the engine exhaust. The engine revs began to drop. Flame out. Engine stop.
Rei headed toward what he thought was the main hangar. He passed through a blast door, and a massive wave of relief surged through him. He’d guessed correctly. Yukikaze was there, waiting.
He tried to operate the elevator controls manually, but they wouldn’t work. The auxiliary control was a fully electronic system, so it needed an external power supply. He found the power supply unit in a trailer. He ran over and switched it on, then connected an AC cable to the auxiliary control panel. With a terrific racket, the elevator slowly began to rise. The sliding bulkhead above the elevator opened.
Rei climbed into Yukikaze. Canopy, closed. Mask and harness, secured. He suddenly realized that his memento of Tomahawk, the analyzer that may have recorded the true form of the JAM, had been left in the ghost plane. But there was no time to go back for it. Engine, start. The Phoenix on the right came back to life.
They rose onto the deck and Rei grunted in frustration. In front of them, hovering before the bulkhead opening, was what looked like the ghost plane. Its engines were off and its flaps were down, but it was still just floating there casually. It was going to ram Yukikaze. Rei hit the button to release the wire anchors and in a flash explosive bolts sheared them from the fuselage. Flaps, down. Yukikaze floated up from Banshee like the ghost plane. The left engine ignited and started up.
Banshee’s enormous form began to move forward below them. The ghost plane seemed to drift on the wind and approached. Rei rolled Yukikaze over and jammed the throttle forward to MAX, burning into a steep turn. The powerless ghost plane couldn’t keep up with them. It dipped its nose down and plunged toward Banshee. Was it trying to land?
After accelerating to supersonic speed, Rei came about to try a beam attack from a position ninety degrees relative to Banshee’s course. The black hulk of the carrier filled his view. The ghost plane was landing on the elevator. Rei pulled the gun trigger. Rounds from the cannon tore through the ghost plane, and after a couple of seconds it exploded. Yukikaze blew through the black smoke and withdrew from Banshee at maximum thrust.
Yukikaze climbed into the blue sky. Rei didn’t look back.
Altitude, 25,000 meters. The sky grew dark. Stars in the daytime. He could see the great red whirlpool that poured from Faery’s suns. The Bloody Road. For a brief moment, it was overlaid by Tomahawk’s blood, pouring from his slight and broken frame.
Tom John’s last words came back to him. I am human… aren’t I?
“Of course,” Rei whispered. “Of course you’re human.” He had died with a faint smile on his face, as though he had finally received the reassurance he sought. As though saying that his life hadn’t been so bad after all.
Banshee’s symbol blinked out on the radar.
YUKIKAZE LANDED BACK at Faery Base.
Rei taxied to Boomerang Squadron’s area. After raising the right engine output to 80 percent for fifteen seconds, he cut it off. He then did the same for the left engine.
After he’d killed the engines, he just sat there in the cockpit, looking up at the cloudless sky.
Major Booker turned the exterior canopy control handle and peered inside the cockpit.
“You all right, Rei? Where’s Tom? What happened to—”
“Jack…Could you check my environmental control system?” Rei raised his helmet visor and swiped at the tears on his cheeks with his gloved fist. “Something’s stinging my eyes.”