One-six

Ahead, the red locator lights on the top of Europa’s white walls blinked like little eyes, almost invisible in the setting sun. It’s been three hours or so since they left Valkyria, but since they were flying west, the skies are now brighter than before.

“Patrol flight six, fly heading two-ten for straight in approach. Over,” the air traffic controller said in a machine-like tone through their headsets.

“Copy, two-ten for straight in approach. Flight six,” One-six read back the transmission as standard procedure.

A few taps on the touch display set them on course towards their hangar, the flight computer automatically descending to the approach path, directly aimed at a spacious opening on the otherwise smooth wall.

Once they were within two kilometers, the computer handed control back to One-six, who flew the fighter down with practiced ease.

Lights arranged in arrow-shaped patterns on the landing strip guided them down towards the opening.

“You’re fast,” Two-six said.

“Copy,” One-six mumbled, easing back on the throttle.

Landing is probably the toughest part of being a pilot. While landing strips exist on the tops of the walls, those are rarely used for military aircraft. Fighter pilots usually land in recovery chambers; cavernous chambers at the very bottom of the wall, just above the trees, some thirty meters wide and fifteen meters tall.

As they slowed down, the flight computers automatically swiveled the engines downwards to maintain controlled flight.

They crossed the threshold of the chamber and settled down gently on the concrete ground. He stepped on the brakes to slow the aircraft to a stop before the end of the chamber.

“Arrival, flight six, taxi to squadron hangar,” the air traffic controller told them.

“Copy. Flight six,” One-six said.

With the help of illuminated signs on the walls, they navigated their aircraft to the hangar of their squadron, massive elevators slowly lifting them to their launch hangars. A long time ago, only rapid-response squadrons were equipped with catapults. But now, all aircraft are parked hooked up to a catapult, allowing for rapid launching and eliminating the need for massive departure halls.

Tonight the hangar was empty, their squadron was probably off on an assignment somewhere. One-six slowly slid into their empty parking spot, the catapult mechanism engaging with a clank and a message on his display informing him of positive lock. Shutdown procedure went as normal, and soon their plane was cold and dark.

They stepped out of their jet, saluted to the ground crew who came to service their plane and headed straight for Captain Steiner’s office.

“Come in,” Captain Steiner’s deep voice rumbled when they knocked on his door. When they entered, Captain Steiner seemed to look at them with a curiosity and intensity they had not felt before. “I thought you four were downed. But I guess I underestimated you four.”

“Thank you,” One-six said, saluting simultaneously with his teammates.

“Strange that position tracking was lost. Was it a mechanical failure?” Asked Captain Steiner.

“Ah yes… well… yes it was a mechanical failure,” One-six stuttered. “We lost a few other sub-systems as well and had to stop over at settlement fifty-three for refueling and repairs.”

Captain Steiner nodded with a knowing air.

“A merchant in the town by the name of Takeshi told us to bring this to you,” continued One-six, taking a letter out of his pocket. He stepped forward and handed it to Captain Steiner, who furrowed his brows and tore open the packet.

As Captain Steiner read the letter, his expression went from surprise, to confusion, then to understanding. He put down the letter after he finished reading, and looked at One-six and his team.

“Well, welcome back. You four can return to your dorms, and I will need to file some paperwork on repairs and cancel the delivery of a new fighter team,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” One-six and his team said together.

“Oh and, there is a general meeting tomorrow morning. Ten hundred at the assembly hall.”

“Understood, sir.”

With that, they left.

When they arrived back in the common room, One-six pulled out the rest of the documents Takeshi gave them and laid them out on the table.

“How will we go meet this person?” Asked One-five, standing beside the table. “…Amsterdam Street number two-hundred-and… this all just sounds like gibberish to me.”

“The cars should take you to whatever location you specify,” Two-six answered. “Remember how it worked last time?”

“I see… but when are we going to go?”

“We’ve done it once, we can do it again.”

“No, we can’t,” One-five stated. “Captain Steiner knows about our trespassing. Security on us is probably much stricter now.”

“There really isn't another way.”

“Fine then,” One-five backed down. “Whatever, we’ll try.”

“Alright alright, we’ll sort it out later. Put these notes away and go get some food,” said One-six.

Dinner was again the same bland and boring nutritious slurry that they’ve always been fed, served in a metal bowl, and eaten with spoons. After dinner they returned to their rooms, the common room now filled with pilots again after their squadron returned from their mission.

One-six asked about their mission, which turned out to be another search-and-destroy mission. However, this time they found no traces of the reported New Asian forces and returned without expending any of their munitions.

Discussions about their plans would have to wait a while. Takeshi had told them to meet someone, a person who could give them all the answers they would want. But he never told them how.

One-six and One-five went to bed early, exhausted from their day-long journey to the other side of the world. Unlike the previous few days, One-six had no trouble sleeping, and if not for his alarm, probably would have slept well past midday.

Perhaps their journey had put his mind at ease, or maybe because he was just too tired.

Entry into the assembly hall was slow. Multiple checkpoints checked and rechecked their identity. It must be something important.

By the time they got into the assembly hall, the announcement had already started. All the seats were taken so they just stood at the door. A high-ranking officer was at the podium, the big screen behind him displaying an image of some large aircraft, the words “The Weapon” laid over it.

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“Hello, pilots,” the officer announced. “After many years of development and testing, The Council is proud to announce that the end of the war is finally near.”

He paused, letting the information sink in. People looked around at each other, not sure if they were supposed to applaud or not.

“The Weapon has finished development and will be ready to be deployed very soon. Now, what is The Weapon you ask? Well… it is the weapon to end all wars,” the officer clicked a controller in his hand and the screen jumped to a diagram of some sort of complex mechanism. “The Weapon is an energy weapon which utilizes something similar to plasma to bring destruction upon our enemies. The plasma feeds upon metal, and when deployed on a city like New Asia, it will propagate and strengthen, vaporizing everything in its path until all that is left is a scorched area of earth. Then, victory will be our’s.”

This time there was applause.

The officer continued, the screen now showing a video. “This is a recording of a test of one such weapon.”

On screen was a huge, tube-like machine with wiring wrapped all over it. A warm orange glow began to emanate from the muzzle, followed by a ball of gold which shot out of the end and plowed into a metal tower. At first there was nothing, the fireball seeming to have been stopped by the metal supports. But then the fire grew larger and larger, tendrils of it climbing up the sides of the tower until the whole thing was a huge blossom of blinding light. Then it shut closed, leaving the blackened concrete base on the ground as the only remains.

There was silence among the crowd. Then cheering and applause erupted. The officer waited until silence came back before speaking again.

“We have mounted this weapon onto a transport aircraft, thus giving us the ability to strike New Asia from afar… This weapon will grant us victory. This weapon will ensure the complete destruction of our enemy. This war will finally be over, and the final victory will be ours!”

There was more cheering and more applause. The entire hall was in hysterics, filled with people throwing up their arms and cheering for their city.

“After the more primitive half of the world is gone, we can rebuild and reform. We will have lasting peace and a better world to live in. We will have advanced technology everywhere, plentiful food everywhere. Killing half of the world will only make the world a better place for the people who matter,” the speaker said, raising the hysteria even more. “This is humanity’s chance! This is our chance! This is Europa’s chance!’

People cheered and screamed, all shouting the name of their city in unison.

“For the future of mankind!” They chanted. “For the future of mankind!”

“Wha… hey this isn’t supposed to happen…” Two-six stuttered, her voice barely audible to One-six above the noise even though she was standing right next to him.

The chanting grew louder.

“For the future of mankind!”

One-six stood there astonished too, desperately trying to understand the scene in front of his eyes. He had an urge to join in with the chanting, but he resisted it.

“We are planning to send an all out attack, with all of our aerial forces in a week’s time. It will be a bloody battle, as we have to fly quite deep into hostile airspace. But the final victory will be our’s. Further details will be given to you before the battle by your squadron captains. Good luck pilots. For the future of mankind!”

“For the future of mankind!”

“Hey, this is good right?” Two-six asked. “The war will be over, right?”

The chanting grew louder still. People were standing up now, all screaming their motto at the top of their lungs.

“For the future of mankind!”

One-six didn’t answer. It was all too much. He turned and ran out of the hall, his teammates following close behind him.

They ran all the way to their dorm, panting and heaving in the empty common area to catch their breath.

“They’re going to… destroy an entire city?” One-six stammered. “Half the world’s population? Just like that? But then we win… we win…” he whispered. “We win!” He shouted, smiling and chuckling like never before.

“One-six…”

“This is good news right? Really good news right?” One-six asked like a maniac. “I’ve been fighting all of my life for this moment. Finally, finally it will be over,” he tried to convince himself that it was wrong, that it was bad to kill so many. But deep down he still felt a sense of accomplishment overwhelming him.

“But we’re killing so many…” Two-six argued.

“But we are doing it for the greater good,” One-five muttered. “We are doing it for peace.”

“What about that team of New Asian pilots that we met?” Two-six asked. “Didn’t you say we would meet them again as friends?”

“That’s changed hasn’t it?” One-six asked sarcastically. “Now we have the option to win once and for all. They’ll be safe in that town. I don’t care about anyone in New Asia, so if it means killing all of them to grant us victory, I’d do it.”

“So do we need to go meet that person still? Is it still necessary?” Two-five asked.

“No… no it’s not… We can just wait until all of this blows over and we can have peace,” One-six chuckled. “And then it all wouldn’t matter anymore…”

“We’ve only just been to New Asia,” Two-six whispered. “Have you already forgotten what it’s like?”

“I…”

The images of New Asia appeared in his mind. The excitement had momentarily flooded over his head, but now the memories came surging back.

Those people, those houses. That team of pilots. Lenn? I think he was called. All gone. That drinking game, those fireworks, never again. He thought.

Flames consumed those memories, crackling and popping, scorching the city to dust. It made him cold, it made him wince, things he barely felt even in the face of death.

“Isn’t it a bit…sad?” Continued Two-six. “I’ve never been sad, but I think I’d be quite sad.”

“Emotions are prohibited, Two-six,” One-five interrupted.

“Those people, those houses, all gone. That drinking game we played, those fireworks, they’d all be gone,” Two-six mumbled as if reading One-six's mind. “Is that really such a good thing?”

“But the war would be over.”

“Then what? What becomes of us then?” Two-six asked, her voice rising in volume. “You’ve seen those incinerators. You’ve heard all the talks of bio-robots. I don’t know what we are. I don’t think we’re human. But I at least want to know...”

“Two-six, calm…” whispered Two-five, reaching to grab Two-six’s hand, but was roughly brushed away.

“Let’s go now, while everyone’s chanting our motto in the assembly hall. Let’s go to whatever place Takeshi told us to go to, and meet whoever he told us to meet. There’s no more time.”

Two-six produced a copy of the documents Takeshi gave them, she had carried them with her the entire time.

“We’re rebels now, aren’t we?” She looked around at her team, her face more expressive than ever before. “Come on.”

One-six wanted to agree, he wanted to take up her suggestion and fly away. But he hesitated.

How could he, a pilot, loyal warrior for Europa, turn against his own city? How could he betray his comrades, his superiors, his people, his city?

He looked up at Two-six, and their eyes met. In her gaze he saw something. Something his heart desperately grasped at. He didn’t know what it was exactly. Salvation, perhaps.

That’s right. We’ve already broken rules, we’ve already found out too much. We can’t turn back now. He thought. How come we were so keen before, yet so cowardly now?

Two-six held his gaze for a long time, her shimmering eyes urging him to speak.

But before he could, a voice called from the opposite side of the common room.

“Hi pilots,” Captain Steiner said, ignoring the look of shock and terror on everyone’s face. “Thought I’d find you four here.”

“Sir,” they saluted, Two-six’s breathing still a little heavy from her outburst.

“I have an assignment for you,” said Captain Steiner, walking up to them with a briefing file in his hands. “An assignment into the city.”

*****

Lenn

“So what did you ask the Europeans?” Lenn asked as they sat around the dinner table with Takeshi, who had treated them to a fairly simple yet plentiful meal.

“Well, I guess there isn’t much harm in telling you,” said Takeshi, sipping from a small cup of alcohol. “I’m European.”

There was silence.

“I know that my looks, my accent, and everything makes me seem New Asian, which is good, since that’s what I’m trying to go for,” Takeshi chuckled after seeing Lenn and his crew’s reaction.

Instinctively Lenn reached down for his pistol. “So what are you then, a spy?”

“Oh come on, don’t jump to conclusions that fast!” Takeshi exclaimed. “I escaped from Europa when I was young.”

“Didn’t you say that you survived the beginning of the war and enlisted in the New Asian air force?” Lenn asked incredulously.

“Indeed I did,” Takeshi smiled. “I learned a fake Asian accent, then went there and became a pilot.”

“Why?”

“Being of Asian descent, there was no shortage of hate after the war began. When I reached my draft age I escaped so as to not serve in the military. I snuck aboard a trading jet and flew to New Asia,” Takeshi continued. “After all this time, I’ve still maintained connections with a few in Europa. One of them is a captain, now general, I think, in the air force.”

“So you're working for the Europeans?”

“No no… Europeans have connections with the outside, especially fairly high-ranking people like him. Not perfectly legal but, oh well. And, well, the European pilots who came today happened to be under his command, I recognized the numbering. Those pilots discovered stuff they weren't supposed to, and decided that they want to oppose the system.”

“Like they said, rebels,” Kang mumbled.

“Exactly.”

“You’re helping them?” Lenn asked.

“Well… sort of… The Captain I know isn't exactly the biggest fan of the... um... European system. It will make him very happy if some pilots reveal all the hidden secrets and cause an uprising.”

“What sort of dark secrets?” Lenn pressed further.

“For one, I’m sure you’ve heard of the rumor of Europa cloning soldiers to fight?”

“Cloning?”

“Well, not technically cloning. More… printing, I guess.”

“Yeah? That’s true?”

“Oh yes, it is. Every single word of it.”