A hail of light flies past us as a volley of shots from our fleet heads for the other missile. In a moment, it also bursts into blinding light, eradicating the remainder of the enemy air forces. The ships that launched the missiles have long since turned and exited the area while our attention was diverted.
“Let’s return to base,” Rion says somberly.
We land in the hangar bay, conspicuously short a plane. After a quick chat with my mechanic, I walk off toward the prep room. Rion and I are again the first ones to arrive and, by the time I enter, he’s sitting on a bench with just his helmet off. The rest of his flight suit remains firmly attached to his body.
“How could they detonate that kind of thing with their own planes tangled right in with us?” I ask Rion as I reach his side. “Do they not care about the lives of their people?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” he says quietly.
Of course. The Republic’s fancy robot toys. If the cost is just in materials, then it’s a lot easier to sacrifice things to take out the enemy than when lives are involved. I guess that memory got hidden away with the bad memories of the time right after I learned of the unmanned fighters.
“I think I hate my job,” I say, almost meaning it.
“Come here,” he tells me. I do as he says, and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in close for an embrace. It sets my racing mind at ease a little. “I haven’t given up yet,” he tells me.
I nod, and he releases his hold on me. We finish taking off our flight suits as the rest of the team starts to enter. After everyone’s done, we head off to begin our debriefing with the admiral.
Chapter 27
2nd Lt. Akane Miyamoto
October 28, 2113, 16:43
I wake with a start and my hands jerk in an attempt to dodge an incoming volley of cannon fire. Except… there’s nothing there. When my eyes fly open, it’s pitch black. For a moment I can’t even be sure that they’re actually open. What’s going on? Was I dreaming?
The last thing I remember is fighting against a group of Republic fighters. The commanders seemed to think that the enemies were acting strangely before they attacked us. I remember Colonel Takashi giving the order to retreat and then… a blinding light. A missile from the enemy fleet detonated right in the middle of the fight.
Does that mean I’m dead? Would that explain the absolute darkness surrounding me? That can’t be right. I haven’t had a chance to accomplish anything.
A single dull LED light in the corner of my vision interrupts my thoughts. My senses slowly begin coming back to me and I realize that the light is from one of the consoles of my plane. Judging from its position, that should be the life support status light. It’s green, so I have nothing to worry about for now.
I move my hands around the interior of the plane, searching for the button to power on the main systems. It’s a little difficult trying to find things in the absolute darkness, but I finally locate the button and push it. Nothing happens. Another attempt yields the same result. None of my systems respond to any attempt to activate them.
After confirming that nothing works despite my attempts to fix things, I’m even more thankful that the life support is continuing to function. That at least gives me some time to think about my options, and maybe even be located by my fleet.
A sudden thought hits me. What if no one’s coming for me? Logically, it doesn’t make sense to waste time going to find one person when we’re headed for the most important target of the war so far. It’s far more likely that I’ll be out here floating indefinitely, waiting for my life support to run out.
It’s a chilling thought, but somehow brings a bit of comfort with it. So long as the rest of the team succeeds in our objective, then me dying out here will have some meaning. Knowing the high-profile personnel involved, chances of success are pretty high.
There’s no use in me sitting here worrying about it. I should probably try to conserve life support as much as possible. After a glance at the green life support LED, I close my eyes and fall asleep.
***
My eyes slowly open and I stretch my arms and legs. They don’t get to extend much before they contact the confined limits of space within my plane. A loud rumble escapes my stomach and I can feel hunger continue to creep uncomfortably upon me.
I look around the dark interior, looking for signs of change. Still, only the single LED from the life support system is visible. Not only that, but its color has changed from bright green to almost yellow. Somewhere under half of its capacity remains.
No harm in trying things out again. My hands find the controls and try once more to power on the systems. None of the screens respond to anything I try, same as the first time. I wrap my hands around the flight controls and try to move them around, thinking that it might make some change. With the engine and all the systems offline, they don’t even budge from their positions.
Looks like I’m still stuck here waiting. How long has it been? It feels like it’s been forever, but my eyes still can’t even see my hand directly in front of my face. I’m not sure how far off I could have drifted from my original position in space either, but I guess that’s beyond me to worry about now.
I wish this plane had a bathroom. Or some form of food. Or at least water. I start reciting a song in my head and tap my finger to the beat, trying to take my mind off things.
***
I’m awoken by jarring shaking accompanied by a loud bang, as if something has collided with my plane. A slight hissing sound can be heard in the silence, causing my blood to chill. I look at the LED and, sure enough, its color has changed from orange to red, letting me know that I have less than ten percent of my life support remaining.
The hissing sound makes me believe without a doubt that whatever collided with me punctured my plane in some way. Before, the absolute silence was unnerving, but now the sound of my little remaining life hissing out of a crack grates on my frayed nerves.
Panic sets in and I frantically poke about the inside of my cockpit. As the systems continue to be unresponsive, any rational order of trying to activate things in the proper sequence goes out with the last of my air. I slam my fist against the console, which doesn’t even give me so much as a beep in protest.
Fear grips my heart as the air becomes noticeably thinner. I don’t want to die. I thought I was prepared for what was coming, but I’m scared. This isn’t how I imagined things going. Fizzling out so soon without anyone’s notice. It’s much too cruel.
My breath comes in short rasps, burning my dry throat as my lungs try to pull the last remaining oxygen from the thin air. I feel my consciousness slipping away with every passing moment. Looks like time’s run out.
Chapter 28
Major Hitomi Saruyama
November 3, 2113, 07:50
Two sets of footsteps clang against the metal catwalk as Rion and I walk across. Below us, the hangar bay’s mechanics and engineers fly around working on different tasks as a shuttle is prepared for launch. The ramp at the rear of it is down, revealing the unified space that is the cockpit and cargo bay.
We descend the stairs, headed toward the shuttle in question. The lead mechanic tells us that everything is ready, and we board the shuttle. I wave one last time before pressing the button to close the ramp, then move to the front and take my seat in the copilot’s chair. Preflight checks are performed quickly and orderly.
“What if we can’t find anything?” I ask Rion, doubts suddenly creeping in my mind.
“We will.”
“But it’s already been a week. What if…”
“Hitomi.” He turns and looks at me, putting a hand on top of mine atop the console space between us. “We’ll find her.”
He returns his attention forward as we’re cleared to launch, and our shuttle slides out the open hangar doors. We pull farther away from the Ikaruga and the darkness of space surrounds us.
“Switching to heading three-one-four dash zero-nine-nine,” Rion says.
“Copy. Heading three-one-four, zero-nine-nine,” I confirm. Space directions are a mouthful. We point the nose of our ship at the new patch of emptiness and fly off. The Ikaruga recedes into the darkness of space as we head toward the coordinates plotted on our map. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Grid search,” he answers. “Start with the middle and expand outward.” His responses have been short lately, even for him.
“You’re really worried after all, aren’t you?”
He looks over and raises an eyebrow. “Has there been any time in the last three years that I wasn’t?”
“I guess you’ve gotten a little better at hiding it. That, or it’s just become your new normal so it’s hard to tell the difference.”
He shrugs casually. I reach over and grab his hand, interlocking my fingers with his. We’re alone in here, so there isn’t anyone to complain about us showing affection. He doesn’t resist, squeezing my hand gently.
“We’re almost there,” he says quietly.
He never looks away from the screen in front of us but, with the way he says it I can get the double meaning he’s implying. The computer beeps as we get close to our waypoint. My eyes focus on the area in front of me and I get ready to start the search.
We reach the first grid and I use the scanners to search for objects in the vast space. Nothing comes up and I use the screen to visually search around a little before declaring a miss. We change our heading and go to the next grid, repeating the same procedure.
Our morning continues like this for a few hours, searching around and finding nothing. After the sixth fruitless grid in a row, I start to lose hope again. Maybe this really is just us chasing shadows.
“Switching to one-four-nine, two-five-seven,” Rion says.
I don’t bother echoing the new heading this time. We’re right next to each other, so I obviously heard him. He doesn’t call me out on it, either. The first announcement was already transmitted back to the fleet, so my repetition is just a formality.
The shuttle floats along through space toward the next search grid. I get ready to perform the same procedure to search the area, my fingers already hovering over the appropriate buttons. Once in range, I send out a radar pulse to search for contacts in the area.
To my surprise, an alert tone plays several seconds later. I’ve gotten so used to the repetition that I nearly don’t even realize what it is. I look down at the radar display and, sure enough, there’s a single contact out at the edge of the range.
“Single contact, bearing one-one four, two-six-two. Hardly any movement,” I tell Rion.
“I see it. Heading in.”
I highlight the contact and project a marker on the main screen. We turn and head toward the object in space, continuing to search the area for more contacts. Soon, the marked object is close enough for me to see it onscreen. Not a peep comes from it as it slowly twirls and moves lazily through space.
“Approaching now.”
Rion steers us closer as he says it, taking us in to scan whatever it is. From this distance, I can clearly see that it’s a fighter. The exterior is charred and deformed as if it was beaten while being roasted.
Once in range, I activate the suite of sensors and they begin analyzing every inch of the craft. A progress bar inches toward full as each of the sensors begins to complete their scans. The computer alerts me when the task is done, and I run down the list of results. Most of it is information I already knew, but one result in particular captures my attention.
No life signs found.
I look over at Rion and shake my head. His face tenses and he tells me to get the rest of my space suit on. The shuttle is set to maintain an even distance from the fighter and we prepare ourselves and any equipment we may need for the job.
After we’re suited up, he presses a button and the life support system sucks the oxygen out of the interior before the rear hatch slides open. We carefully use the suit thrusters to maneuver toward our target, the tools held between us.
Reaching the plane, I engage the magnets in my boots and observe the surface closely. Beat up as it is, it seems most of the plane’s armor has avoided a breach. On better observation, however, one of the dents in the armor features a long gash. It’s not wide, but it doesn’t have to be.
“It’s not looking good here,” I tell Rion.
“Let’s make it quick,” he replies.
We open the equipment container and take out two laser saws. I check all sides of the tool before pressing a button to prime it.
“What’s the armor thickness on these things?” I ask.
He takes a moment to think. “Four inches.”
I set the laser depth and position the tool on the surface of the plane. After pulling the trigger, a bright light flashes at the point of contact. Hot metal bubbles along the edge of the cut as I trace a shape large enough for a person to fit through.
Rion finishes his half of the cut and switches his saw out for a prying tool. I motion to him as I finish, and he inserts the tool into the edge of the incision, prying at the loosened armor plate. After some working, he finally gets it to pop out and the large sheet of metal floats off into space.
With a section of the exterior removed, we can finally see into the damaged plane. Inside, a lone figure lay motionless, slumped against one side of the cockpit. The only light visible is from Rion’s and my headlamps.
Rion moves closer and reaches inside. The figure within removed their harness at some point before we got here, so they come out easily. He positions the person on one shoulder before telling me to grab my end of the equipment box. Together, we drag the tools and the person back over to our shuttle.
We enter the craft and the door shuts behind us. I quickly press the button to return life support within to survivable levels and, after hearing a tone from the computer, remove my helmet. After I push the toolbox back into its position, I turn around to check on the situation.
Rion already has his helmet off and is in the process of unlocking the helmet of the person we brought back. Once the helmet is gone, I confirm that it’s really Akane. She has a blue tint to her and I can’t see any signs of breathing.
Without wasting a moment, he checks her breathing and immediately begins CPR. I hold my breath as I’m unable to do anything but watch as Rion tries to bring her back to life. One repetition. Two. Three. By the time he gets to the sixth round of chest compressions, I’ve lost all hope. We were too late. We failed.
I hear a sudden gasp and my eyes fly back open, just in time to see Akane’s shoulders fall back to the ground. Her chest heaves as she takes several deep breaths, the strain causing her to cough from time to time. Rion sits beside her rubbing his forehead. Apparently, when Akane bolted upright, she headbutted him.
Her breathing steadies as oxygen returns to her body. The blueish tint has subsided a little as well. With great effort, her hand comes up from her side and moves to her mouth, positioned as if she’s holding something.
It takes me a short moment to get what she’s trying to say. Upon figuring it out, I rush over to our supply cabinet and return with a bottle of water. Rion’s lifted her head up and placed it on his lap, angling her body so that she doesn’t choke. I uncap the bottle and gently put it to her lips, tilting it slowly. She tries to gulp the water down, nearly choking in the process.
“Slowly,” I tell her gently.
She nods and drinks more carefully. Rion strokes her hair, trying to calm her down as the contents of the bottle empty slowly. When she’s had enough, she taps my hand and I pull the drink away from her lips, sitting it to the side.
“Stay with her. I’m going to get us started back,” Rion tells me.
I take his place as Akane’s pillow and he stands up, heading for the flight controls. She continues to lie on my lap catching her breath as I comfort her absent-mindedly. After a while, I hear a strange sound come out of her and look down. She’s looking right at me and it occurs to me that she just tried
to say something. I put my ear closer to make it a little easier.
“Why did you come back for me?” she manages.
“Why wouldn’t we come looking for one of or people that’s lost?” I counter.
“I’m just one person. As far as you knew, I might not have even been alive out here. I feel like there’s no way Admiral Jones would allow the waste of time and resources.”
“Believe me, it wasn’t easy getting him to sign off on it. Rion spent this whole time analyzing the battle, the strength of the explosion, and the possible directions you could have flown off to. Even after all that, it took him a while to get the admiral to sign off on it. In the end, the fact that it wasn’t far off our travel path sealed the deal.
“To be honest, I was completely hopeless about finding you after all this time. I really didn’t believe I’d talk to you again until I heard you take that first breath right here. But Rion never lost faith. He was always convinced that we would find you alive, even a week later.”
“It’s been that long and you guys still came all this way for me?” she asks.
“You know our colonel. He’s quite the unusual guy.”
“I’m not sure I want to hear that from the most avant-garde military officer in the history of the world,” Rion interjects from the pilot’s seat.
I smile as I continue. “That said, we were all really worried about you. It was difficult coming to find you, but it was worth it to be able to see you safe again.”
“To be fair,” Rion breaks in again, “it was a lot easier rescuing her than the last time I had to rescue you. A lot less people trying to kill me, at least.”
Beyond the Clouds_Retaliation Page 17
