Good Luck, Yukikaze

Yukikaze, seemingly about to turn her anger on the Sylphid for having been so easily destroyed by the JAM, wheeled around to pursue Mayle’s plane. Then, as though suddenly headed back to base, she assumed a course for TAB-15, closing fast and flying low. Upon reaching it, she opened fire with her cannon in ground attack mode.

On screen, the indicator continued to show that she was engaging the enemy.

“Abort the attack,” General Cooley said. “Order Yukikaze to return to base. Cancel its mission.”

She certainly sounds calm, Major Booker thought, then answered her in a tone as equally businesslike. “We can’t issue an abort order. She won’t accept it.”

If the JAM ever decrypted an abort attack order, they could render Yukikaze powerless. To avoid this danger, she’d been designed from the start not to accept such orders. They were going to have to leave the decision to Yukikaze to the very end. If Yukikaze had decided that humans were her enemy, nobody would be able to stop her. The major had considered the possibility, but as he confronted the reality of the situation, a shiver ran through his body.

“Yukikaze, what are you doing?” Major Booker asked. “What is your target? Tell us your target. Do you read, Yukikaze?”

The tactical computer translated Major Booker’s spoken commands and relayed them to Yukikaze. It then translated Yukikaze’s response back to him. Yukikaze climbed into a turn, flying slowly above TAB-15. She remained in ground search mode.

Yukikaze’s response was displayed on the main screen.

Precise detection impossible.

The icon indicating TAB-15’s position on screen changed from blue to yellow. A red circle was drawn in the center. Red, indicating an enemy.

“What’s going on here?” asked General Cooley.

The red mark that indicated the enemy was blinking on and off. It meant that the target was there, but the position was unknown, visual contact lost.

“Bring it home, Major. There’s a chance that Yukikaze may be attacked by TAB-15.”

“Yes, General.”

The general was right. Yukikaze’s communication hinted at a potential disaster the seriousness of which was impossible to convey. It might have simply been due to an abnormality in her decision-making functions, but if they didn’t get her back to base safely, they’d never understand why she had done what she’d done. Common sense would say that Yukikaze had turned against the FAF and TAB-15. As you might expect, the idea that anything that attacked you was the enemy ran very strong on the front-line bases. FAF fighters would most likely try to intercept her.

Major Booker was reaching for the control panel to issue an emergency recall order when he heard the voice.

“It’s the JAM.”

The voice was faint. The major suddenly froze, wondering for a moment if a ghost had called out to him, then whirled in the direction from which the voice had come. There, in the wheelchair, was Lieutenant Rei Fukai. Rei, with his brain wave sensor and transmitter affixed to his head.

“The JAM... are there...”

“Major, hurry!” exclaimed General Cooley. The major held up his hand for her to be quiet. Then General Cooley noticed the strange change in Rei’s condition.

“Look closely,” Rei murmured. “The JAM are there. I see them.”

Rei’s voice was barely a whisper, but he had definitely spoken. The tone of his voice told them that he understood everything. It was the first time in three months they had heard a word come from his mouth.

“Rei...” the major said. “Do you hear Yukikaze’s voice? Inside your head?”

It was impossible, and yet the voice Rei was speaking with seemed to be Yukikaze’s.

The control center erupted into pandemonium.

The major’s eyes leapt to the main screen. The red circle had stopped blinking and gone to a steady red. The screen subdivided and brought up a transmission of Yukikaze’s field of view. They could see an image of TAB-15, Yukikaze’s fire control system overlaying a targeting reticle on it. A text readout appeared.

Precise detection impossible. Cannot identify friend or foe. Probability of new type of JAM: high.

The shock of Yukikaze’s claim hit the major even harder than the fact that Rei had regained consciousness.

“What? Where?” he shouted. The JAM’s true form was a mystery, but it was possible that the JAM were some sort of artificial life-form. Had Yukikaze detected an unknown machine creature somewhere in TAB-15?

“Attacking all moving things,” Rei whispered.

The major turned. Rei’s eyes were open. He might have been looking at the main screen since Yukikaze’s transmission.

Rei raised his right hand, which until now hadn’t moved under his own power. The position it took... as if he were holding a flight controller. His index finger moved, and the major instinctively recognized it. He was using the weapon selector. Then Rei pressed his thumb down.

Yukikaze responded to his movements. Ready gun. Gun attack mode. Resume ground attack.

The major couldn’t believe what he was seeing. All he could think was that Rei’s will was somehow tied to Yukikaze. Either by brain waves or electrical current, she was sensing his actions and carrying them out. It was true that Rei was wearing monitoring sensors designed to detect his own brain activity, but there wasn’t any sort of system that could translate his thoughts into commands.

No, the major corrected himself. There was the tactical computer. What the humans may not have been able to do, the SAF’s computers may have achieved.

“Stop him,” General Cooley said sharply.

Yukikaze was targeting TAB-15’s ground personnel. The major suddenly grabbed the transmitter affixed to Rei’s head and physically pulled the energy pack from it.

Inside the center, Yukikaze sounded an alarm. A readout informed the center staff that the target had been lost. In the major’s place, General Cooley ordered Yukikaze to resume normal reconnaissance duty.

“Rei, what did you see? Can you hear me?” The major shook Rei’s body as he spoke. Rei didn’t answer. Yukikaze was climbing again. Slowly, though. Almost as if she didn’t understand what she’d been doing until then.

The major had seen the strength in Rei’s right hand as it moved. He had been piloting Yukikaze right up to the very end. The major touched Rei’s hand. It felt firm as steel. A warning sounded from the control panel. A message from the tactical computer.

Malfunction in Lieutenant Fukai’s communications system. Restore normal function and redesignate target.

Communications system?

Major Booker read the text again, and then he knew for sure. Under his very nose, a communications system was being constructed, linking Rei with the tactical computer and Yukikaze.

Just as he had so fervently wished for Rei to awaken, so too had the SAF’s machine intelligences sought the information Rei carried in his head. It wasn’t an emotional wish. Perhaps a more direct desire. “Wake up,” the machines and Yukikaze were saying to Rei. And Rei had responded to them where he hadn’t for the doctors or even his friend.

But was he really awake now? Major Booker wondered. It was just another nightmare where he fought the JAM inside of his own head, wasn’t it? In short, it was possible that the tactical computer had merely coaxed him into a state of semi-consciousness.

“What was the target? What were you going to attack?” the major asked Rei. But Rei didn’t answer, just sat stiffly looking at the main screen. No use, the major thought. Rei hadn’t been fully awakened.

An unknown JAM, the SAF headquarters’ tactical computer replied. Conjecture that threat to TAB-15 exists from unknown JAM. Form, abilities, and function: unknown.

“And you think that Rei — that Lieutenant Fukai knows the details of this threat?”

Lieutenant Fukai’s order to B-3 to attack indicates high probability that he senses unknown JAM