Good Luck, Yukikaze Page 4
“I understand perfectly, General.”
“How is the lieutenant doing?”
“Physically, he’s fine. That’s because TAB-15 was so close to where he ejected. Those front-line surgeons are rough, but their work is top notch. I swear, they could probably cure a dead man, which is pretty close to what Rei was when they got to him.”
“I understand that he didn’t sustain any severe brain damage.”
“Probably because those front-line docs gave him the right initial treatment. The surgeons we have here at Faery base are good with the theory, but they don’t have the real-world experience. Our chief flight surgeon Dr. Balume is pretty good, as long as you get to him in the first five minutes before the booze messes him up.”
“I expect you’ll do fine with him,” the general said. “Fukai was shot with a pistol, wasn’t he? Was he shot by his flight officer, Lieutenant Burgadish? And where did he disappear to? If Fukai doesn’t recover, we’ll never know that either. I want to know what happened out there. Within the month. Our SAF can do anything, can’t it? That is all. Any questions?”
“None, General.”
“Very well, then,” she replied, nodding. She didn’t seem to want to leave the office.
“How about some coffee?” the major offered. “You look tired.”
“So do you, Major,” she replied. “I’ll pass on the coffee, thanks. How’s the battle analysis going? We’re definitely seeing the action intensify around TAB-15. Do you think all the Sylphid losses are due to the old Yukikaze being shot down?”
“We’re about to have a tactical mission briefing. You can hear it then—”
“I want to hear your personal opinion, Major.”
“Off the record?”
“Yes.”
Strategy sessions, tactical development sessions, mission planning sessions, mission conduct briefings, and on and on and on. There were lots of meetings to attend, the faces varying with each group. At the strategy sessions where the requirements of the next generation of planes were discussed, people from Systems Corps would be in attendance. The tactical development sessions featured lots of soldiers, as you’d expect. And aside from all of those, there were the preflight briefings held before each sortie, with General Cooley invariably in attendance. At those meetings and in her office, the major had asked her for her personal opinions before. However, this was the first time she’d ever come into his own office to ask for his opinion on anything.
“This is just between you and me, Major.”
“What are you after, General?”
“I just want to hear your opinion.”
“Hm…”
The general was worried. The normally confidant, unflappable head of the SAF who usually had the bearing of a queen was losing her nerve.
This is a crisis for the entire SAF, the major thought. The Yukikaze incident had set off a shock wave that shook the entire Faery Air Force, but the SAF had absorbed the brunt of the blow. Yukikaze had become the first plane in the SAF to be destroyed by the JAM. She’d transferred herself from that plane to the FRX00, and among that data was information related to the Sylphid and the Super Sylph, not to mention data on their performance envelope. If the JAM had gotten ahold of that too, it definitely would have put the Sylph at a disadvantage against the JAM. Just as Systems Corps had said. But it was impossible that Yukikaze would have let that information leak out to the JAM.
“It has nothing to do with the Yukikaze incident,” the major declared. “Yukikaze would never have allowed the JAM to get that data.”
“But there is a possibility.”
“There’s also the possibility that the JAM gained data on the Sylph’s weaknesses from a plane other than Yukikaze. I’d say the odds of that are much higher.”
“I’d like to think that, Major.”
“Believe it and it’ll be true. This isn’t like you. If you stay this indecisive, you’ll blow your chance for a promotion, General.”
She didn’t answer; instead she simply sighed faintly.
“General, the method Yukikaze used to transfer her data has never been seen before, even by us. It was just as novel a feat to the JAM. There’s no way the JAM could have known what it was. Yukikaze used the U/VHF communication system on the FRX00 to send out false data. The real, vital information was transferred into the FRX00 via the attack control radar.”
Yukikaze had switched her fire control radar into single plane pursuit mode to boost its directionality, then targeted the FRX00. She’d then broken her data up like a jigsaw puzzle and transferred it to the FRX00 by modulating the radar wave. The FRX00, being an electronic reconnaissance plane designed for the SAF, simply hadn’t sensed it as an attack lock-on and began recording and analyzing the data in real time. Yukikaze had made use of this.
“The FRX00’s main functions include an emergency decryption system. Even if the JAM somehow got hold of the decryption hardware, they couldn’t analyze it with the hardware alone. Only when the decoder was activated by the central computer could the code be deciphered. To decrypt the data that Yukikaze was transmitting, you’d need something that used the same function structure. In real time. That was the FRX00.”
“There were three JAM in the area, though.”
“It’s possible that they possessed the same function structure as Yukikaze. That’s why, as soon as she’d gotten her new body, Yukikaze had to destroy them immediately, even if it meant risking killing Captain Samia and me. She struck and destroyed them before they had a chance to report anything to their friends. The new Yukikaze confirms that.”
“Indeed.”
“There’s another cause for all the Sylphs we’ve been losing on the front lines. The FAF has been mass-producing the Sylphid in conjunction with its next generation fighter. As you must know, a number of reasonable design changes were introduced in order to make the Sylph easier to produce. You could call it a new design. Another word for a more reasonable design is ‘simplified.’ They cut corners compared to the original model Sylphids. It’s possible that doing so introduced a defect into the design.”
“The losses aren’t limited to the new model Sylphs that have been introduced into battle, as you well know.”
“Hm…Well, if the fault isn’t in the planes, then it’s probably in our using less and less experienced pilots. Besides that…” the major said casually, “even if they did get the data from Yukikaze, it’s old data now, like the Sylph itself is old. It wasn’t the FRX00. The SAF needs to introduce it into service. Let’s restart our plans for mass production.”
“Not the unmanned version?”
“Humans are necessary. It’s best to have a lot of means to gather information.”
Major Booker said this while looking at Rei, who still sat silently in his wheelchair. What was making him and the general so fainthearted was Rei’s being stuck in this state, he thought.
“Speaking of new pilots, what do you think of the new man I transferred into our unit?” the general asked.
“Lieutenant Yagashira? He’s only been out on one sortie so far, so I can’t say anything about him.”
“He has plenty of combat experience. His record is exemplary.”
“He was an ace pilot at TAB-15. But he got shot down and sent here.”
“He was excellent. That’s why I grabbed him.”
“Oh? You fancy him that way?”
The general glanced up at the major where he stood. “Beg your pardon, ma’am. The thing is, the SAF needs pilots like Rei.”
“Ones who don’t care about anything but themselves? Who act like machines? Look at Fukai now. He’s a broken machine.”
“Yeah,” Major Booker replied. “I can’t argue with that. Human doctors can’t cure him. If we can’t get his own self-repair system activated, he’s doomed. Still, Rei made it back. So did Yukikaze. Whether you like it or not.”
“That’s beside the point. And perhaps Yagashira is a bit too human for this work. If you decide that he’s o
f no use to us, be sure to tell me, Major.”
“Yes, General.”
“It’s time for the meeting,” said General Cooley, looking at her wristwatch as she rose from the chair. “I’m glad I got this chance to talk with you.”
“So am I, General.”
As she was about to leave, the major said something that halted her.
“Let’s put Yukikaze back into active service. The FRX00.”
“Who will be the pilot?”
“Unmanned, I mean.”
“Doesn’t that contradict everything you’ve been saying, Major?”
“Yukikaze isn’t like any other unmanned plane. Not like an FRX99 that’s been unmanned since it was born. That’s Yukikaze, General. There’s a part of Rei in that plane.”
At the moment, Yukikaze was being used by other members of the squadron on training flights designed to familiarize them with the FRX00. She hadn’t been sent out into actual combat because there was no way to predict what she’d do out there. However, as they used her for training flights and he grew more familiar with her behavior, Major Booker’s expectations had grown. No matter how distinguished a name she’d made for herself, if she didn’t fly, she’d end up being taken away by Systems Corps.
“The truth is that she wants Rei to fly her. I think Yukikaze is just itching to fight the JAM. She probably can’t stand the thought that she’s responsible for Sylphs being shot down like she was.”
“You’re anthropomorphizing a plane, Major.”
“Oh, Yukikaze is definitely not human, and it’s dangerous to think of her as such. But the truth is that she was raised by Rei. I think…she cares about Rei. Let’s send out Yukikaze for combat recon around the TAB-15 front. I think she’ll be able to find out something there. I have a plan ready to go.”
“Roger, Major,” said General Cooley. “We can’t lose to the JAM, so we have to try anything that we can. The SAF mustn’t lose this fight. Well then, Major. I’ll see you at the meeting.”
The general exited the room without another word. Back to her old self, he thought. He then called for the nurse on his intercom.
“Time for gym class, Rei. You stay asleep like this and you can kiss Yukikaze goodbye.”
Rei had just one month. He’d have to do something in that time. He had to.
When the nurse arrived, the major reminded her to change Rei’s clothes for his exercise session and then to shower him off after it was done. He always did this. And after promising him that she’d take care of it, the nurse took the wheelchair and left the room.
Rei needed something to stimulate him back to life. I wish he had a girlfriend, the major thought as he gathered his papers for the meeting. The closest thing Rei had to a lover was Yukikaze, and the time had come for the major to seriously consider putting Rei aboard her as a sort of shock treatment. He’d told Rei that he could fly anytime, but he probably wasn’t strong enough. The doctors had told the major that they couldn’t guarantee that Rei would survive. However, it might be worth the risk. It was a decision not to be made lightly.
But before that, Major Booker grabbed the plan for using Yukikaze unmanned in combat and exited the office.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would fly. General Cooley’s approval was in the bag. Rei, he thought, Yukikaze’s going back into action, and I’m going to let you see it.
3
YUKIKAZE WAS LEAVING for her sortie right on schedule. She was stored with her vertical stabilizers folded down against her horizontal ones. Riding the elevator up from the underground hangar to the surface, she activated her engines and raised her tail stabilizers to their vertical position. As they rose into place, it seemed as if life were being breathed into the plane’s body. Inside of Yukikaze’s cockpit, Major Booker looked behind him to make a visual check of the stabilizers’ condition.
Unlike the other planes of SAF 5th Squadron, there was no wind fairy mascot design painted on the side. This wasn’t a Super Sylph, after all, so the image of a mythical sylphid would have been inappropriate. This model of tactical electronic reconnaissance fighter plane had no official nickname yet. Even so, it was still the best fighter in the FAF. For now it was known simply as the FRX00. Only its personal name has been decided, and that was chosen by the plane herself, the major thought.
Yukikaze. Just like the old Yukikaze, the name had been hand-painted beneath the cockpit in small Japanese characters by Major Booker as Rei looked on.
The outer side of the tail bore the Boomerang squadron logo in dark gray. Below it were small letters spelling out SAFV, indicating the plane was attached to Special Air Force 5th Squadron.
Her squadron number was 05013, and her serial number painted along the length of the airframe was 96065. Aside from those, she bore no other markings.
From the cockpit, Major Booker spied Rei, flanked by a couple of attending nurses, near the entrance of an SAF ground area personnel elevator. He then stepped on the toe brake and pushed the throttle forward.
The twin high-output engines, high efficiency series 5000 improved Super Phoenix Mk.-XIs, roared with power. The shrill shriek from the air intakes and the explosive roar of the exhaust filled the air. He could see from the cockpit that Rei showed no interest whatsoever in the loud noises. No, wait. He couldn’t be sure from this distance, but the major thought he could see Rei tilting his ears toward it. He wanted to think that, anyway. Still, if he kept his mind on Rei, Yukikaze was never going to fly. He had a careful preflight check to complete, so he slid the throttle back to IDLE.
There was no need to check the ejection seat and canopy systems, since Yukikaze was going to be flying the mission unmanned, but the major gave them a quick check all the same. Just like a pilot taking her out on a training mission.
Even when she didn’t fly, she was inspected every day like all the other planes. He’d set up a duty rotation that ensured that every pilot did it, but today, Major Booker was personally performing Yukikaze’s daily inspection.
He reached out to the computer address panel to run the self-test program. He flipped the master test selector to run the onboard checks. The auto-throttle, Automatic Landing System (ALS), and Air Data Computer (ADC) started their self-tests.
Unlike the Super Sylph, the FRX00 had only three ADCs instead of five. To be more precise, it had only two. Two of them acted as auxiliary systems, whereas the main air data computer was now integrated with the plane’s central computer. In a Super Sylph, the central computer and central air data computer were decoupled, connected only indirectly, but the FRX00 was built so that the central computer controlled the airframe directly. This design had been carried over from the original unmanned designs of the FRX99.
Without an ADC controlling each control surface, a plane designed for negative static stability couldn’t maintain equilibrium for even an instant. That held true for unmanned planes, so they carried auxiliary ADCs as well. The unmanned version had only one. If the central computer was completely destroyed, that’d be it for the plane, but the auxiliary system was designed for the possibility of a fault occurring for which the ADC could compensate. However, the FRX00 was a manned plane capable of being flown by the pilot even if the central computer failed, and so it had been built with two independent ADCs. They had all sorts of self-monitoring functions, so even if the central computer systems were dead, the plane could still fly.
But in the end, it was the central computer that actually flew the FRX00. The ADC was simply a backup subsystem for the MADC in the central computer.
Major Booker manually fed mock signals into the ADC and throttle control, looking for any abnormalities.
All clear.
As the self-tests carried out by Yukikaze’s central computer—which could be called Yukikaze herself—agreed with Major Booker’s tests, checklist items on the display panel vanished one by one. MADC, ADC1, ADC2, ALS, AFCS, and so on.
The readout for the AICS, or Air Intake Control System, stayed lit. The only way to check that was to manually ru
n the test program.
The AICS optimized the amount of air taken into the engines for maximum efficiency. When flying supersonic, the engine air intakes generated a variety of shock waves. In order to stabilize them, the intake ports contained movable ramps. As the plane transitioned from low speed to subsonic, transonic, and supersonic speeds, these ramps deployed in the intake ports to control the rate of air flow and the resulting shock waves. Their position was determined by the aircraft’s rate of speed. In simple terms, it was programmed to make a constant change in proportion to air speed, not perform complex control actions due to altitude like the MADC. For that reason, the central computer didn’t control them directly, relieving it of the burden.
Even in the event of AICS failure, flight was still possible. Since its program was a simple function of speed, it was very reliable. If any failures were going to occur, it’d be in the hydraulic actuators that moved the ramps. Since it was a simple mechanical system, it didn’t have an advanced monitoring system hooked up to the central computer. Parts like that require a more careful preflight check, the major thought as he confirmed the AICS program results.
All aircraft checks were now complete. All that was left was to set the master arm switch for the weapon stores. Those consisted of a gun, eight medium-range missiles, and eight short-range missiles. The air-to-air missiles’ safeties had already been released by the ground crew. Major Booker called up Yukikaze’s central computer to confirm her mission once more.
He set the communications system to auto, then called SAF headquarters using a headset mic. STC, the tactical computer in HQ, linked up to Yukikaze’s central computer. Major Booker reissued the orders into the mic to confirm the mission. STC translated his request for Yukikaze.
Mission number, takeoff time, return essentials, IDs for units participating in the operation, recon essentials, navigation support, armament restrictions, weather, and mission airspace… On and on and on. Yukikaze hadn’t looked particularly happy when he programmed the data into her before, which was a strange thought as she had no way to make any expressions. Still, from the way she displayed the confirmations, it felt to Major Booker like she was telling him to hurry up and let her take off. Items scrolled down one after another, too fast for him to read.