Chōhei Kambayashi: Yukikaze

Rei was about to answer him, but figured that was a reasonable thing to say and so just watched silently as Booker retrieved the boomerang. As he was about to lie back down on the ground, the remote in his breast pocket chirped.

“This is Lieutenant Fukai. We’re busy with Unit 3.”

The voice on the other end asked if he knew where Major Booker was. General Cooley was looking for him.

“Major,” he called. “Grandma Wrinkles wants you.”

Booker shrugged.

“Is it too much to hope that it’s news the Japanese commandant dropped dead?”

“They say the review schedule’s been finalized and that she wants to give it to you.”

“I won’t die alone. Let’s be chums and line up in front of the wall together. We’ll take everyone here with us.”

As the two of them rode down on the absurdly oversized elevator, Rei wondered about the major’s extraordinary dislike of machines. He was struggling to understand it. It wasn’t a matter of how safe or dangerous they were, or how high they let you fly or didn’t; it was a visceral aversion that Booker had somehow developed. As he turned this over in his mind, a vision of the honor guard standing stiff as toy soldiers suddenly came to him.

“Say, Jack…” After hesitating a moment, Rei voiced his thoughts. “What if we built some dolls?”

Booker stopped the irritated tapping of the boomerang against his shoulder and tilted his head.

“Androids,” Rei explained. “Or robots, I mean. We can have them line up and salute. I doubt we’d even need AI units for them. The commandant is nearsighted, right? So if we get the faces and skin texture down there’s no way he’d be able to tell from that distance. It’d work great, since he’s the only one that would get anywhere near them anyway.”

“Aw, kid, don’t be crazy.”

“I bet you’d do it if it was your idea.”

“I’d have to be the one to call up the general and present that insane proposal. You think she’d say yes?” Booker flipped the boomerang over and continued. “Still… The idea’s worth considering. It is absurd, but I think I know a way to make it work.”

He turned to face Rei and adopted a pompous tone. “I hereby order you to make the proposal to the general and persuade her to do it.”

“Screw that,” Rei replied. “I’m no good with Super Granny.”

“I’ll have you court-martialed for disobeying the orders of a superior officer, for mutiny, treason, and going AWOL.”

“Oh, get real. When did going AWOL come into this?”

“Add insulting a superior officer. Think about it, Rei. Which would you rather do: try to persuade thirty squadron members or one woman?”

“The woman would be harder.”

They had reached the maintenance level. Rei replaced the remote control on the wall.

“There are women in the squadron, too. Look, you came up with the idea. I’m busy,” Booker said, walking quickly.

“You seriously want to do this?”

“I’ll check how feasible it is back in my office. Go see the general in my place. It’s just your good luck that I was ordered to be in charge here. Remember, you and I are coons from the same hole.”

“You mean badgers.”

“Oh, is that a real expression? Maybe rats would be better…”

Rei had lost. He’d bought himself a mess of trouble that he didn’t need. Feeling depressed, he headed for the SAF’s command level.

IN THE END, it was the selfish intransigence of the squadron’s human members that propelled the machine-hating Major Booker into the task of building their mechanized replacements. The members of the other squadrons behaved similarly, but the ones in Boomerang took it to a new level. Although it was hardly surprising they did so. Using data on childhood backgrounds, environmental histories, and a variety of other personal profile statistics, the FAF command computers had broken everyone down into several personality types and then compiled a group that had the lowest scores on the sociability and cooperation indices. The result was the 5th Squadron of the SAF. It was General Cooley who had put it together.

The task of greeting VIP visitors should have been regarded as an honor, but the soldiers of Boomerang Squadron regarded it as an insult. Mainly because none of them thought of their visitors as honored guests. And so the consensus reaction was to show no courtesy at all. This didn’t arise from any group discussion, but merely from one person telling another that they didn’t want to do it, and the other person agreeing, and then telling another person, until by the end of the process it had become the general sentiment.

Of course, Major Booker was a soldier in Boomerang Squadron as well, but his position and personality were different from those of the other members. He didn’t want to be demoted, whereas the vast majority of the rest couldn’t be busted any lower than they already were. Booker no longer held the bold, some might say nihilistic, worldview of those who lived constantly in the shadow of the fact that they might not return from their next sortie. He was a victor who had survived his environment. You needed to appreciate reality in order to win and live to see another day. If he had to put it into words, he would say that he was a man who knew what fear was.

Rei understood the major’s position, but he now realized that there was a slight, or possibly significant, difference in how they saw things. In the end, Rei couldn’t quite completely understand Booker’s mentality. Rei was a soldier. And in any case, he wasn’t nearly the veteran that the major was.

Despite everything, Rei was able to successfully make his difficult case to General Cooley. Booker greeted the news with a handshake and a “Great job,” saying that she never would have gone for it had he been the one presenting the proposal. He said it was Rei’s “youthful zeal” that had convinced her, and while their moods were buoyed they set about analyzing how to turn their abstract idea into an actual success.

Naturally, the general’s condition for going along with the plan was that the dolls had to be well made. She had even told him that if the robots exceeded standards they would be used for honor guard duty from now on. The whole thing had quickly grown bigger and hairier than Rei had thought it would. “Leave it to me,” said Major Booker, spreading out his concept sketches. “No worries.” The project was already out of Rei’s hands. It may have been his idea originally, but he had the sense that it was growing into an enormous monster that he couldn’t control. They had two weeks to get it done.

General Cooley talked the polymer materials branch of the Systems Corps into promising to produce some synthetic skin on short notice. She even arranged to set up a direct data link between the air force factory production system and the computer in Booker’s workroom, which allowed him to use the CAD/CAM system remotely. Using just the computer’s graphical display and keyboard and a light pen, he could immediately direct parts to be made. Noting Booker’s skill as he worked, Rei once again wondered why he had broken his perfect boomerang. To be honest, the major seemed to be enjoying using the computer. Enjoying it a lot more than shaving down wood with a knife.

In the meantime, Rei acted as the pipeline between General Cooley and Major Booker, riding the automated monorail to the military manufacturing plant on errands, being the punching bag for the bitching from the plant team, and helping to put the prototype together. He thought he would die of boredom.

He wanted to be back in the air with Yukikaze as soon as possible. Each time he saw the general he would ask her when the next hearing would be.

“It seems they’ve been frustrated by the fact that they haven’t been able to find any evidence to support their position. You may as well consider yourself a full lieutenant now. Congratulations, Lieutenant,” she had said.