Machines of Eden (2 page)

The transmission was an
audio feed direct from the nearest satellite. That and the Level
Three encryption made Mochizuki perk up even more. For PACOM to
route whoever this was through one of the precious few satellites
still in the sky meant it was urgent and heavy.

Lucky’s electronic
“decryption” tone cut out and was replaced by a voice unlike any
that Mochizuki had heard since the draft ruined his life. The voice
was female, dusky, cultured, and pure honey on the ears.

“
Please verify Captain Lee
Mochizuki.”

“
Lee Mochizuki here,”
Mochizuki said. The voice recognition system apparently got what it
wanted because he wasn’t required to key in his code.

“
Fragmentary Order for
Captain Mochizuki of PACOM flight 117-T. You are to alter course
and proceed to the following coordinates.” Mochizuki listened to
the numerical coordinates in disbelief; they were perpendicular to
his present course. He waited for an explanation. Sometimes they
gave you one, sometimes they didn’t.

“
Once in your target area,
you will maintain altitude at 11,000 meters and circle the target
zone in preparation for HALO insertion of classified freight. Will
advise cargo number in separate transmission, upon arrival. Once
payload is delivered, you will proceed to intersect your previous
flight path and continue to your destination. This mission is
classified and any mention of it, whether verbal or written, will
result in the maximum penalty permissible under current law. End
FRAGO. Please acknowledge.”

Mochizuki waited a long
moment before responding. “Roger that, PACCOM, but I’m not sure I
will have enough fuel to reach target zone and return,
over.”

The voice came back
instantly. Mochizuki knew it was a bot, but the voice was still
warm and reassuring. “Concerns understood, Captain. Will schedule a
mid-flight refuel. Stand by for refueling rendezvous
coordinates.”

Mochizuki was amazed. This
mission, whatever it was, had pulled out all the stops. Mid-flight
refuels had become progressively rarer as the war dragged on. He
knew of only one such plane PACCOM had at its disposal, and it was
supposed to be undergoing repairs for the next three
weeks.

Lucky received the
coordinates and indicated the transmission was complete.

Mochizuki looked at his
little copilot
and
swore under his breath. The war was supposed to be
over
!
He didn’t
like classified orders given in code after take-off, and he didn’t
like breaking from his flight plan so far from the nearest
airstrip. It stank of cloak-and-dagger puppetry, and he hated it.
When you had flown as many combat hours as Mochizuki had, you just
learned to trust your gut. This was all wrong.

“
I’m
impressed
, b
ut I
don’t like it, Lucky.”

“
Your concerns are
understandable, Captain, but you needn’t worry,” Lucky responded,
always eager to keep his pilot’s stress level down. “A mid-flight
refuel will enable us to comply with PACCOM’s orders and still
arrive at our destination with only a 3.4 hour loss.”

“
Okay.” Mochizuki sighed.
“Alter course according to coordinates received. Let’s go dump
whatever it is we’ve got back there. I hope that Sergeant is
sleeping well.”

High above the dark sea,
the plane banked left.

John
woke in the darkness and knew something had
changed.

He lay still, trying to
recover from his dream, sorting out dream from reality, hunting for
the stimulus that woke him.

The steady drone of the
engines was unchanged. The cargo bay where he lay was cold but not
frigid. It was night, and as he stared through a small porthole he
caught a glimpse of the moon. They’d refueled in Hawaii around
2100, and he’d fallen asleep again shortly after
takeoff.

What had
changed?

Then he knew. He was lying
on one side of the blankets, as if he had slid, or been pushed.
Centrifugal force. He rose and stumbled to the small window,
gripping the fuselage for support.
John
knew he was a little rusty in
his celestial navigation skills, but he was fairly certain they
were no longer heading in the same direction that they had started
in.

The plane’s mid-flight
course change bothered him, and he didn’t know why. Logically, it
could be any number of things, but it didn’t feel right and his gut
had him on high alert.

He stood still and breathed
rhythmically, forcing himself to calm down and let the agitation
drain away.

The war
had officially been over for quite a
while
.
Now
i
t had to be over for him inside. Life
would go on and he needed to let go of the fear, the paranoia. It
was time to lay those to rest.

John
made his way to the blankets and stood over them, trying to
make himself lie down, trust the pilot, let go of the instincts
that had kept him alive but haunted for the past five years.
Something kept him on his feet anyway.

Maybe it was the emptiness
of the cargo bay. It was the first time he’d been so alone in a
long time. He hadn’t even seen the pilot since takeoff.

Maybe it was the thought
of the endless, dark ocean below. A change in course would multiply
with every meter traveled until he did not know where or when he
would land. That shouldn’t matter; he didn’t care where he was
going as long as it was
away
.

Perhaps it was the voice
of
the man he’d replaced after Buenos
Aires,
Sergeant Wiley
. T
he bravest man he ever
knew.

It is always dangerous to
remain in ignorance when you have the option of
knowledge.

John
headed for the cockpit.
He expected
it to be locked, but his sharp knock resulted in the door sliding
open almost immediately.

Mochizuki faced him.
“Yes?”

“
We’ve changed
course,”
John
said.

“
Correct.” The captain was
frowning.

“
Why? Is there a storm
ahead?”

“
Yes,” Mochizuki replied.
“A storm. We’ll avoid the worst of it. Try to get some
sleep.”

John
smiled. “If you lie to me again, I’ll start breaking your
bones.”

The captain’s eyes
hardened. “Get back to sleep, Sergeant. This detour comes from the
top, and there’s nothing you or I can do about it. In fact, it
never happened as far as I’m concerned. You weren’t even supposed
to be on this plane in the first place, so if you nose into this,
you may not survive to leak it.”

“
Of course. It’s all very
official. I understand.”
John
disguised none of
his
sarcasm
, n
or the mistrust his words
implied.

Mochizuki’s frown
deepened. “I’m no smuggler, soldier boy. I have a job waiting for
me in two weeks, and I’m not about to screw up
now
.
Please
return to the cargo area and
secure yourself against possible turbulence.”

“
Sure, Captain,
sure
,
”
John
said. He turned to
go, then asked over his shoulder, “By the way, can you tell me if
the spare chute has been checked out recently?”

Mochizuki’s eyes blazed.
“Are you out of your mind? We’re two thousand kilometers out from
Hawaii over empty ocean!”

John
smiled. “I’d still like to know, Captain. Just in
case.”

Mochizuki sighed. “I check
everything before liftoff.
But
I promise you, you won’t need to bail. Just mind
your own business and don’t wake up until morning, okay? Not even
when I come back there and kick
a
package
out the door.”

The captain shut the door
on him, and
John
went back to the cargo area. He found the bulkhead where he’d
seen a parachute sack, pulled it out, and put it by his duffel.
Then he sat down with his back against the two heavy
bags.

He was still sitting there
in the darkness an hour and a half later, wide awake, when the
aircraft began to descend. It leveled out for a while, banking in
wide arcs around some central point, and then dropped some
more.
John
wondered how low they
needed to
go
for this mysterious drop.

A shaft of light came from
the cockpit. The captain stepped through, closing the door behind
him, and entered the cargo area.
John
eased his left leg underneath
him in a position
that could
launch him to his feet at a moment’s notice.
Mochizuki stood in the entrance, saying nothing.

“
Can I help you find
something, Captain?”
John
asked. He kept his voice low and
neutral.

Mochizuki reached out and
flipped on a small light. He stared at
the
Sergeant
, obviously troubled deeply about
something.

“
What is it, Captain? A
problem with the flight plan?”

Mochizuki stepped nearer
so he could heard more easily over the hum of the engines. “A big
problem. They just transmitted the cargo number of the thing I’m
supposed to drop
here
.”

“
And?”

“
It’s not a cargo number.
It’s a personnel ID number.”

John
stood up. “
Let me guess.
Y
ou’re not carrying any coffins on board,
are you?”

“
Nope. But you might need
one if I dropped you here
;
w
e’re a long way from
any
thing
. Do you
know why PACOM would want you to make a secret jump at night
this long after the cease-fire
?”

“
No, I don’t. And I don’t
see how they know I’m on board, unless you told them.”

“
I recorded
eighty-nine kilograms of
additional cargo weight, that’s it. But if anyone was
watching the hangar cameras they would have seen you board. We made
no attempt to hide our little interaction. Freight pilots do it all
the time, I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Now it
is
a big deal. And you
have no idea why
?
”

“
No.”

“
Somebody want to get rid
of you? You know something you shouldn’t?”

John
gave a tired smile. “Captain, every soldier in our army has
seen things they shouldn’t. The question is, what are you going to
do?”

Mochizuki thought for a
moment, then hit a button on the wall. A light began to flash, and
with a hiss of hydraulics hidden under the roar of wind, the rear
cargo door began to open. “I’
ve got
t
o drop something,” he shouted over the
roar, “something that weighs about eighty-
nine
kilos. Come on.”

The captain walked down
the rows of strapped-in crates and then pointed at one. He
and
John
unbuckled it and moved it toward the door.

Outside, the moon made a
silver path on the wrinkled surface of the ocean. Staring at
it,
John
became
aware of a dark mass in the water, black as pitch and unmoved by
waves. He realized a second later that he was seeing an
island.

The crate slid off the edge
of the ramp and disappeared into the night. Immediately the cargo
door began to close, and the wind lessened. Finally, with a whine,
the door closed. The captain seemed to relax.

“
Now stay out of the
cockpit, Sergeant. There are cams up there, too. And keep
quiet.”

John
nodded. “Thanks.”

“
Least I can do for a war
hero,” Mochizuki replied. “I hate it when they mess with
people
, and you’re supposed to be free of
it all now
. We should hit the Philippines
by 0950, assuming my refuel comes through.”

The captain left the cargo
area, but had just gotten the cockpit door open when the plane
bucked hard, as if kicked in the stomach, accompanied by the boom
of an explosion that dwarfed the engine drone.
John
saw a ball of fire flare past
the little window; glass shattered inward and the wind became a
scream. The plane pitched hard to the right, suddenly and
viciously.
John
yelped as he was thrown through the air, crashing hard
against the fuselage.

He staggered to his feet
and began lurching toward the cockpit door, gripping cargo netting
to keep his feet. It took him a full minute to traverse the few
meters, and when he got through the open door, he was dizzy from a
rapid drop in altitude.