YUKIKAZE (8 page)

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?”