YUKIKAZE (28 page)

One item in particular that caught my attention was a letter from a major in the Special Air Force. The SAF is the air force’s tactical combat reconnaissance unit, an elite group of highly skilled pilots tasked with a difficult mission. In the letter, Major James Booker speaks with unusual candor.

The JAM are not fighting humans. They’re after our machines. And our machines seem to have acknowledged the JAM as their enemies and are at war with them. So where does that leave us humans? The JAM aren’t fighting to conquer humanity. They’re fighting to control the digital, non-corporeal intelligences of Earth. You think this is absurd? You probably don’t understand. You, who live on Earth, where the JAM have become a fairy tale. Where they fade in significance compared to global competition. Where humans kill each other.

Major Booker’s words are correct. Setting aside the parts where he says the JAM disregard humanity and that humans have forgotten the JAM threat, he is entirely right.

In the first year or two following the JAM assault, we were nervous. But when we learned that we were only slightly behind them in combat ability, when we established Faery Base on their planet, expanded our presence by constructing the six principal bases and founded the Faery Air Force, there was no longer any need to fear them as a threat to Earth. It’s the same way that one forgets the heat of a burn once it’s healed. The problem is, the heat remains. Just because you can’t feel it anymore doesn’t mean the danger has vanished.

That was the point I was trying to make in
The Invader
. But people read it as though it were fiction. They bought the book and I became famous. My husband and I separated because he found he was no longer married to his wife, but to the public figure “Lynn Jackson.” We had no children. If we had, well… perhaps I might have written a different, more serious book.

Major Booker ended his letter in this manner.

You need to write a sequel to
The Invader
. The world needs to know what’s happening now here on Faery. But it may already be too late. Despite all your efforts, the message may not get through to people on Earth. The people who watch footage of actual combat on Faery act like it’s a war movie… One day they may be destroyed by the reality. Regardless, the soldiers of Boomerang Squadron still have to fly their missions. All I can do is pray that they come home alive. So what can
you
do?

In writing the letter he was trying to convey to me the fear that he felt. His rage, his resentment, his sorrow over the meaningless loss of the soldiers under his command. And he was also asking, “What about you? Do you have someone you care for? A lover? A spouse? A child?” Because the soldiers of his squadron have none of these. Even if the Earth were to vanish tomorrow, they wouldn’t shed a single tear. And that is wrong. They’re becoming machines. Humans need to be human. A soldier in that squadron feels that as he fights the JAM, he’s gradually becoming more and more machinelike. To convince himself that their battle isn’t meaningless, he must believe that he is as much the enemy of the JAM as the computers are. The JAM are dehumanizing humanity.

War will normally bring out the true nature of man. But the war with the JAM is different, Major Booker wrote. This war is not bringing out the basic nature of mankind: it is destroying it. Whatever the JAM’s true objective is, whether or not they pose an immediate physical threat to Earth, that danger has not gone away.

I am not confident I can live up to the major’s expectations. Even so, I think I have to write this book. That soldiers are dying on Faery is a fact. If I pray for anything, it is that their deaths are not in vain.

They are dying to protect the Earth, and what do we do? We forbid them to become self-sufficient. We keep them from becoming independent. Over half the individuals we send to replenish their forces are the stigmatized trash of every nation. It’s ridiculous enough to drive one to tears.

As I write this, I am cruising the freezing waters of the Antarctic Ocean, roughly four hundred kilometers from Scott and McMurdo Bases, and a thousand kilometers from where the Passageway stretches into the sky from the Ross Ice Shelf. The ship I’m aboard is a Japanese Navy attack aircraft carrier with the task force designation Admiral 56.

This carrier is assigned to the United Nations force that patrols the area around the Passageway for any JAM or FAF units that may attempt entry from Faery. Interdiction against the JAM I can understand, but the puzzling part is the FAF. The Earth Defense Force has devised plans to defend against the FAF even though it is part of the very same organization under U.N. command. It is behaving as though the FAF, and not the JAM, were the invaders.

However, the Earth forces normally don’t take such an aggressive stance. Admiral 56 and its group were deployed in response to an unusual dispatch from the FAF.

In preparation for future operations we are sending over a Sylphid fighter in order to test the Phoenix Mk-XI engines and flight control systems in Earth’s atmosphere. We will be conducting analyses to measure their degree of efficiency in alternate conditions. The test plane will be from the Special Air Force 5th Squadron. The pilot will be Lieutenant Rei Fukai. Systems will be monitored by flight officer Major James Booker. The time and date will be…

Since this announcement caused quite a furor on Earth, even I soon learned of it.

Major Booker, I used every professional source and personal contact I had to secure permission to be aboard this carrier and cover the story.

It’s summer in the Antarctic. The skies are very clear. Here on the bridge, Rear Admiral Nagumo is holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. “Ahead full,” he says.

“Ahead full, aye, sir,” calls back the first officer.

Admiral 56 steams ahead under full power to greet Yukikaze.

An AWACS plane is already in the air. The captain has just issued orders to launch interceptors.

YUKIKAZE TOOK OFF from Faery Base. She was fitted with new Phoenix Mk-XI engines; they were somewhat smaller and lighter than the Phoenix Mk-Xs but had greater output.

“It’s hard to believe this is the first time I’ve ever flown with you,” Major Booker said.

“Uh-huh. Don’t pass out on me, old man,” Rei replied.

Engine control systems, normal. Fuel flow rate, check. Fuel transfer system, normal.

“I’m not that old,” the major protested. “I can handle it. I’m still an active-duty pilot, Rei.”

“This isn’t like the fighters you used to fly.”

Yukikaze accelerated, heading in the direction opposite to that of her normal duties, toward the Passageway that would allow them to transit directly to Earth.

In the rear seat, Major Booker struggled to breathe in a regular manner, afflicted by the high Gs they were pulling. He wondered if Rei always flew under this kind of physical stress and renewed his appreciation for just how exhausting being a combat pilot was.

“Thirty seconds to airspace entry,” said Rei.

The target designator appeared on the HUD. They were rapidly approaching the enormous ash-gray column of mist that towered over Faery’s forests. Numbers in the lower righthand corner of the HUD scrolled down, marking their time to contact.

“Let’s go, Jack. Time to pop our cherries. We’re taking a dive to Earth.”

Suddenly, the
deedle deedle deedle
of the radar warning receiver chimed in the cockpit. Booker started. An enemy symbol appeared on the RWR display.

“A JAM fighter! Where’d he come from? Closing fast.”

“Calm down, Jack.”

The wall of mist around the Passageway’s airspace was now filling the view ahead of them. They were past the point of no return. The numbers on the HUD were reaching the end of the countdown…1…0. The dive-in cue appeared.

Yukikaze shuddered. They were wrapped in ashen darkness. Their radar was non-functional, as were the radar altimeter and external comm equipment. An alarm shrieked, as though Yukikaze were screaming that she’d lost sight of the enemy, and a caution alert blinked on the HUD, warning that their current position was unknown.

Less than two seconds after entering the hyperspace corridor, they emerged on the Earth side. They were flying supersonic, the enormous pillar of mist quickly receding behind them into the distance. Yukikaze’s engine control system immediately measured the ambient atmospheric conditions using a score of sensors, and then began making adjustments to optimize the engines’ operation. The avionics control and barometric altimeter automatically reset to Earth mode. Rei had no time to check the operation of these new systems; he had to trust that they were working correctly.

Master arm switch to ARM. FCS, activated.
RDY GUN, RDY
AAM-6.

“Where’s the JAM, Jack?”

“Right below us.”

Just as Rei sent Yukikaze into a descending roll the JAM initiated an explosive high-G acceleration burst, separating from Yukikaze like a rocket. Rei immediately launched two high-velocity short-range missiles after it. The enemy responded by launching infrared seeker missiles to neutralize them.

The JAM aircraft was a bit larger and more powerful than Yukikaze. Rei advanced the throttle against its limit and tore after the JAM at maximum power. It dropped its external power boosters and fled.

“What the—? What is it doing?”

“It’s after Admiral 56,” Booker said, his voice tight. “It’s trying to get in range to launch an anti-ship missile. The JAM are trying to completely isolate the FAF from Earth. If they sink Admiral 56, the EDF will blame us. Rei, we have to shoot it down, no matter what.”

“We don’t have enough fuel. We won’t be able to get back.”

“It doesn’t matter. Lieutenant, this is an order. Take that thing out!”

“Understood.”

THE EDF TASK force’s AWACS plane confirmed Yukikaze’s exit from the hyperspace corridor. But within seconds, the symbol being tracked on the radar screen split into two. Yukikaze was operating an Earth-use IFF transponder, but the other blip was negative on the IFF. An unknown. The radar operator hesitated, unsure what to do.

Just then, a message came in from Yukikaze, broadcast on the international emergency frequency: “Unknown aircraft is a JAM.”

The operator, confronted with a JAM threat for the first time, panicked. “Shoot it down!” the young man shouted. “It’s the FAF!”

The captain of Admiral 56 did not panic. He gave the order to launch interceptors and then murmured to himself “Goddamn FAF, bringing the JAM here with them…”

Admiral 56’s eight interceptors acquired the JAM and immediately moved to engage it. However, they had never faced one of the alien fighters before. The JAM simply flew into their attack without trying to evade, as if it were sneering at them. It launched eight missiles. Admiral 56’s interceptors were destroyed within seconds. With the obstacles eliminated, the alien craft resumed its flight toward its target.

The ship’s captain couldn’t believe what was happening.
That’s what the JAM are capable of?!
he thought in consternation. An alarm sounded from the CIC, warning that the JAM fighter was closing.

“Ready point-defense weapon system. Ready antiaircraft defenses. Hard to port.”

“Hard to port, aye, sir.”

Admiral 56 began to swing to the left.

Rear Admiral Nagumo was about to give the order to launch all remaining interceptors, but it was already too late.

However, the interceptor squadron deaths hadn’t been in vain. While the JAM was engaging the ship’s fighters, Yukikaze had closed the distance between them. The alien aircraft skimmed the ocean’s surface, seeming to slice it in two with its shock wave, on a straight-line course for Admiral 56.

“Target acquired,” called out Major Booker. “Range six-seven, crossing in front of us. We’re only gonna get one chance at this. Don’t miss.”

“Miss or not, this isn’t my duty. The EDF guys should be shooting down any JAM that make it to Earth.”

Flying on the deck, Yukikaze initiated a ninety-degree beam attack sequence. Arcing up into a power climb, she fired four high-velocity missiles simultaneously and then went into a high-G turn, breaking away at maximum power. Major Booker blacked out momentarily, in G-induced loss of consciousness.

The JAM aircraft was shot down three seconds from impact with Admiral 56. There was a flash, followed by a large explosion. Sixty kilometers away, the carrier was rocked by the shock wave but otherwise unharmed. The crew rushed to begin the nuclear decontamination procedure, washing the ship down with large quantities of seawater.

“Looks like it wasn’t carrying a nuke, thank god. Had me in a cold sweat there for a sec.”

“Jack, we’re almost bingo on fuel. It’s not like we can call for a tanker. And don’t tell me you expect me to ditch.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a place to land,” Booker said. “A place with plenty of fuel.”

“On the carrier? No way. You think they’d roll out the red carpet for us?”

“I’m not expecting them to, but they can’t refuse a request from the FAF. They’re obliged to obey international Earth Defense law. I’m contacting them now.”

Aboard the ship, Admiral Nagumo listened to Yukikaze’s request for fuel with a surge of irritation. The fighter’s crew had some balls to make that request right after they’d drawn a JAM to his ship. True, they’d shot the thing down, but it was their duty to do so. And thanks to them, he’d lost eight planes, which would be a major blot on his service record.

“You’re going to give them clearance to land, right, Admiral?” He looked down to see the journalist Lynn Jackson standing right next to him. “If I’m not mistaken, you have to grant any reasonable requests from the FAF. And I’d like to meet them—to meet Major Booker, I mean.”

I knew this woman was going to be trouble when I took her aboard,
the admiral thought. As long as she was here, he’d have to watch how he handled himself.

“Grant them landing clearance,” he ordered.

Two fighters were launched to guide Yukikaze in. Or, more accurately, to keep an eye on her.

Admiral 56 came into Yukikaze’s visual range. The two planes from the ship closed in, settling high and to the rear.