In short, the humans weren’t fighting the JAM as individuals. The humans didn’t live autonomously. Major Booker had talked about it like it was a matter of course, but something about that seemed strange, Rei thought. Wouldn’t it be more normal to worry about being killed by the JAM than about fighting to protect the reputation or power one had amassed? At the very least, that was how Rei felt. Most other people would probably see it the same way as far as their individual lives went, but survival within their organizations was also a matter of great concern. That probably held true for every respectable human out there. People were living things that existed in groups. When a group known as an organization was threatened, the lives of the individuals within it were similarly threatened, and that was true for everyone from the moment they were born. It was even the same for monkeys and dogs. Living in groups was just safer. Monkeys, dogs, and people all ran this same program for survival. That was just as true for Rei. So then why did this manner of living seem so dubious to him? Wasn’t it more likely that he was the one to be doubted here?
Could I really live on my own? Rei wondered. He thought he could. But as a single individual, he’d ultimately have to admit to being mistaken. The reality was that if he were to be separated from the SAF and Yukikaze, he’d have no chance to survive against the JAM. So then where did this mistaken belief originate? It had to be because the environment of the SAF made you believe it. So long as this organization existed, he wouldn’t have to bother with the discord among the others. That was the job of their leader, General Cooley.
Rei recalled Major Booker once saying that their fates depended on General Cooley’s decisions. And truly, she was doing a good job. Good enough to let himself and the other pilots believe that they could survive on their own. Rei also couldn’t forget the meaning of Major Booker’s words for him to “think of your own survival strategy.”
Of course, that was what made the SAF different from all the other organizations there. Even while they recognized that they could not live alone, they also demanded to survive as individuals. This was tough to pull off. If you weren’t the sort of person who could say that they didn’t care about other people, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand the isolation. This was probably different for people who existed in other organizations.
“Friendlies, approaching. Confirming Tactical Combat Air Corps 9th TFS, returning from TAB-8. Number of planes: nine. Three minutes behind us, port side. Relative altitude: 1800. They’re making a low-altitude fly-by. No JAM detected nearby,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi from behind. It was the first time he’d spoken during the sortie.
“Roger.”
Rei imagined what this taciturn man was thinking. First of all would be his mission. Next, would be…Well, that would be the mission too. Just carrying out his orders and nothing else, especially while he was aboard a plane he still wasn’t used to, like Yukikaze. He probably didn’t have any spare time to think about anything else. Even if he did, he wouldn’t spend it like the guys in the 9th TFS passing below them, listening to the recreational DJ shows the FAF broadcast or the chatter going on between the other planes. He’d be an inhuman man, devoted to carrying out his duty like a machine. That was what other people might say about him, but Rei knew that they’d be wrong. If Lieutenant Katsuragi possessed the same emotions Rei did, then he’d be more concerned with his own existence than with doing his duty.
“Lieutenant Katsuragi,” Rei called back to him. “What sort of work did you do for Colonel Rombert?”
“Nothing that has anything to do with this job.”
Exactly the sort of answer he expected.
“General Cooley’s concerned that it does. Well, it doesn’t matter to me. We can talk about whatever you like, but keeping your jaws moving helps to keep you from getting drowsy. Talk with me. What do you think of the JAM?”
“What do you mean what do I think of them? What do you want to know?”
He really is like a particularly inflexible computer, Rei thought. Did I really used to be like that? Hell, I probably still am, even now.
“Have you ever seen the JAM?”
“No. Never,” Lieutenant Katsuragi replied.
“Even being in the FAF, formerly in the Intelligence Forces, no less,” Rei said. “It’s no wonder people on Earth doubt the JAM even exist.”
“Do you doubt their existence?”
“What makes you think I would?”
“I interpret what you said as doubt, and that you want people from Earth or me to see and confirm that they exist for you.”
“I have no doubts that the JAM exist. Either we kill them, or they’ll kill us,” Rei said. “What I doubt is whether the JAM we see are truly the JAM themselves. Those things are shadows. The real JAM are invisible. We’re fighting shadows, shadows that can pack a real punch.”
“So?”
“So, nothing,” said Rei. “It’s just something that I think. I just wanted your opinion on it.”
“Honestly, I never gave it any thought. The Intelligence Forces are pretty much entirely concerned with humans. What we’re after are human spies, not the JAM. We investigate their methods of monitoring us and transmitting messages back to Earth. My specialty was investigating electronic methods, so my job had nothing to do with the JAM.”
“That’s not going to cut it in the SAF. Unless you think about what sort of enemy you’re fighting and what the JAM are, you’ll never be able to do your job,” Rei said. He could now see the 9th TFS passing by low on the port side. “I don’t know how you feel about it, but I don’t want to get killed by an enemy I don’t really understand.”
“Or by Yukikaze?”
“Yeah. How did you…?”
“Do you really believe this plane has consciousness?” Lieutenant Katsuragi asked.
“Who told you that?”
“Major Booker gave me a lecture about her. He didn’t say she had consciousness, but he told me that, since each plane learns from its pilot’s flying style, it can’t help but pick up their idiosyncrasies. It becomes a combat machine optimized to its individual pilot, so you have to be careful when you fly in another plane.”
“I don’t think Yukikaze has consciousness in the way humans do. The same goes for the JAM. I don’t know if it’s consciousness, but she does have the ability to alter her behavior based on the actions I take. The only way I can interpret it is that Yukikaze possesses something beyond unconscious reflex, something akin to consciousness.”
“It could just be that you don’t completely understand the behavior programs and computer hardware installed in her,” Katsuragi said. “Not just you, though. Yukikaze may be a machine that has accumulated so much knowledge that nobody can understand her at this point. Since you can’t understand her, even though she’s just unconsciously carrying out logical functions, you think of them as representing consciousness. A computer is an advanced simulator that can model anything. It could even simulate conscious behavior.”
“You’re only thinking about this with your head. You say that because you have no physical experience flying her.”
“You believe that what I think is just an empty theory? You’ve been flying Yukikaze for a long time, but say—”
“Whether Yukikaze is self-aware or not doesn’t really matter, Lieutenant. The question is whether she behaves as though she is. That may be due to the reason you just gave, and I’m not saying that it’s wrong. The vital point here is that Yukikaze is a being beyond our comprehension. Even you must realize that intellectually. Yukikaze has a ‘something’ we can’t understand. That may be consciousness, some unconscious function that mimics it, or even some machine consciousness completely different from what humans possess. But what it is doesn’t matter.”