Rei considered her words.
“You’re right,” he said at last. “You’re absolutely right. You’re a hell of a doctor, Captain Foss.”
There was no need to do away with his fear. The effort to eliminate his fear would be immense, because the problem here wasn’t that he shouldn’t fly Yukikaze if he was afraid.
What he wanted to do was convey the truth of his fear of her to Yukikaze, and the only way to do that would be to read her gauges—and also read the data they didn’t reveal—and then act in accordance. If it worked, then Yukikaze might fear him the way he feared her. Or Yukikaze might possibly take action to indicate that she didn’t want him to fear her. At any rate, he could guess that she was going to fight him. If he could prevent her from resisting his attempts to communicate, she would refuse to accept his control. They would, in effect, be arguing. And any opponent you could argue with, you can negotiate with as well. He’d never taken his relationship with Yukikaze this far before. He didn’t know if it would work. He didn’t even know if any of this was a good idea, but that was how these things went.
“Thank you, Captain Fukai,” said Captain Foss in response to Rei’s compliment about her skill as a doctor. The words were cold, and her expression didn’t look very thankful.
Well, what else could he expect? He’d said he didn’t like her without really understanding what it was he was saying. He doubted she’d be genuinely happy for his breakthrough. Still, to him, this doctor was like bitter medicine. Even if he didn’t like her, she was still necessary.
Thinking that, Rei said nothing else and headed off for the meeting. Major Booker, looking royally pissed, waved for them to hurry up.
4
“WHAT THE HELL are those two doing?” wondered Major Booker aloud. They were just standing there talking as though they’d forgotten how important this thing he’d called them out for was. Maybe Rei was talking about what had happened with Yukikaze. Even so, it was rare to see him so engrossed in a conversation. Captain Foss looked angry, like they were having a fight. Since when had those two gotten close enough to start having arguments with each other?
Well, I can find out what they’re talking about later, he thought. As the two of them began walking again, he looked to their rear.
There sat Llanfabon, her nose pointed directly at them. He’d ordered that all conversation at this meeting be collected and recorded with the plane’s super directional microphones. Behind her sat Yukikaze, whom he hadn’t ordered to be there.
She probably didn’t care what the humans thought of her ignoring them and coming out here on her own. But whatever her reasons for coming, it’s not worth getting too worried about, Major Booker decided.
Yukikaze had used the SAF’s command system while her pilot, Rei, was aboard her and then come out. That would have been impossible had he not been there. Her operational objectives were simple and clear: seek out and destroy the JAM.
It was really very easy to understand. If Yukikaze possessed emotions, then she feared the JAM. That was manifesting in Yukikaze’s behavior.
Her behavior was consistent. The question to be considered was this: would her fear of the JAM become a threat to humans? But there was no need to make her understand their situation. Having her think about the humans’ circumstances and then take action accordingly would practically make Yukikaze human herself. Demands like that would just degrade her abilities in combat. She was an emotionless combat machine. That was what made her effective against the JAM. If there were any demands to be made of Yukikaze, they would be to protect herself and her crew, and nothing more. That would be enough.
The two of them finally arrived. Captain Foss saluted. Rei followed her lead, although his salute was a bit more casual.
“You’re late,” said Major Booker.
“Stuff happened,” said Rei. “It doesn’t look like the guests of honor have arrived yet. Don’t tell me the three of us are out here for an office barbecue. Who else is coming? Some VIP from Earth?”
On the short purplish Faery grass of a small clearing to the side of the control tower, a barbecue grill had been set up. A folding table and six chairs were set for a picnic. Where had all of this stuff come from? Rei wondered. It felt more like a garden party with a chef than a picnic on a lawn. There was even a man wearing chef’s whites standing at the grill, checking the burners.
“The guest of honor will be Lieutenant General Gibril Laitume, commander of the Tactical Combat Air Corps of Faery Base,” Major Booker replied. “The man who is technically our boss. Also with him will be the de facto top man of the FAF intelligence forces, Colonel Ansel Rombert. And rounding things out will be Brigadier General Cooley, the actual head of the SAF.”
General Laitume was officially the commander of the Special Air Force, with General Cooley serving as his deputy, but in reality General Cooley ran the SAF by herself.
“A real power lunch, eh?” said Captain Foss. “I wonder if some major business is going to be discussed here.”
“Who’s the chef?” asked Rei. “I haven’t seen him before.”
“Because he doesn’t fly a fighter,” replied Major Booker. “A chef’s battlefield is the kitchen. Allow me to introduce you. This is Chef Murullé, head chef of the SAF’s dining hall.”
“Just call me Murullé. Galleé Murullé.”
Unlike the other air corps, which often had two or more facilities, the SAF dining hall was unusual in that it only had one. Having multiple dining facilities wasn’t simply a matter of the number of personnel needing to be fed, they also served to divide the field officers from the lower ranks. The SAF made no such distinctions.
Rei knew the chef had to be a soldier. Major Booker wouldn’t have appointed him to this position unless he had the major’s trust, Rei thought. Other corps had very skilled chefs in their employ, some of them civilian contractors invited from Earth. Very prideful, these contractors considered themselves better than the regular soldiers and had a tendency to look down on the legitimate members of the FAF. After all, many of the soldiers here were actually criminals who’d been sent here for their crimes. However, the SAF had no contractors working for it. Everyone in it was a soldier, and this chef should be no exception. He’d probably committed some antisocial act or crime back on Earth and been sent to the SAF as a result.
Rei didn’t particularly care what circumstances brought the man here. It was just that thinking of the food he always ate and knowing that this man was in charge of providing it gave him a feeling of intimacy. He’d never particularly thought about food before, but he’d never eaten anything bad on Faery either. That was probably a source of happiness for both himself and the chef.
Galleé Murullé gave him a quick nod and then went back to the task of examining the ingredients laid out on a large push wagon.
“I’m glad you made it in time,” said Major Booker as he spied a group of figures emerging from the control tower’s ground-level exit. “If you two had gotten here after the guests of honor, my career would have been over.”
General Cooley led the group, followed by the two men. They had no escorts.
The large, dark-skinned man was Gibril Laitume, the general of the Combat Air Corps. Well, lieutenant general, anyway. Rei knew the man’s name, although this was the first time he’d ever been in his presence. He looks exactly like the sort of general who’ll die a ridiculous death, Rei thought. The other thing about this man he’d never met that had made an impression was his name, Gibril, because Major Booker had explained that it was an alternate pronunciation of the name of the angel Gabriel.