Rocket Girls

by Housuke Nojiri

  Once everyone had settled into their seats, Director Nasuda addressed the team.

  “The LS-7 booster that just exploded so fantastically was to be our ticket to manned spaceflight…had it been successful.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “These six failures have given us a lot of valuable data. With another year, we’d have ourselves a world-class rocket. But that’s another year we don’t have.” He glared at the assembled managers. “The suits bankrolling this operation, the Department of Economic Planning, have short-sightedly concluded that if this launch failed, our base here in the Solomons would be closed, and the manned spaceflight program would be indefinitely shelved.”

  Gasps filled the room. This was hardly a revelation, but that did nothing to lessen the shock. “Hamamatsu, here I come,” mumbled Yasukawa.

  “Not so fast, Yasukawa!” the director barked. “We’re not finished yet. If we can get you in orbit in the next six months, they wouldn’t dare pull our funding.”

  “We can’t get the LS-7 up and running that soon,” said Kinoshita, the flight director. “The first stage is still too unreliable. We need a 99.99 percent safety margin before we go strapping people on top.”

  “We won’t be using the LS-7,” Nasuda said. “We’re using the LS-5. What she lacks in lift, she makes up for in reliability.”

  “Won’t work,” said Mukai, the chief engineer. “The whole reason we’re developing the LS-7 is because the LS-5 doesn’t have enough lift.”

  “Then we reduce the payload. Strip down every system that’s not absolutely essential. Shave the critical load coefficient down to 1.05.”

  Mukai’s brow furrowed. “You think that will get us to 99.99 percent?”

  “The numbers will work themselves out. If we can just keep that first stage from exploding, we can sail right into low earth orbit.”

  “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not making any promises.”

  “Fair enough,” agreed Nasuda. “Satsuki?”

  “Sir?”

  “How light can you get Yasukawa here?” Clearly, Nasuda was going to go after every last gram.

  “Let’s see…He’s 170 centimeters tall, and there’s not much we can do about his bone mass. I’d say fifty kilograms.”

  “Do it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was a loud bang from the back of the room. The door stood half open, the sound of running footsteps echoing from the hall.

  “Yasukawa.” Nasuda sighed as he reached for the intercom on the wall. “You there, Kurosu? Yasukawa may be trying to leave the base. See that he doesn’t.”

  [ACT 6]

  “MAYBE THAT OLD Chinese guy was right,” muttered Yukari. “I should’ve waited until dark.”

  There weren’t any trains or buses from Santiago to the base on the northeast shore of the island—the base needed to be somewhere isolated. A single road, barely wide enough for one truck, wound its way through the mountains from Santiago to the base. Rocket Road. On foot, the going wasn’t easy.

  Mr. Cheung had suggested that Yukari wait until the evening when the people at the base came to town for dinner. Then she could simply catch a ride with someone on their way back. But Yukari had consulted a map in the restaurant, and the base was only fifteen kilometers away. She figured it would be a three-hour hike at most. She weighed her options after leaving the restaurant and finally decided to hoof it. Now she was regretting that decision.

  Rocket Road straddled the Shiriba Mountains, which rose as high as thirteen hundred meters above sea level. The road threaded its way through the valleys, making the journey much longer than it appeared on the map. At times the path was steep enough to give a double black diamond ski slope a run for its money.

  Yukari had pushed ahead, but youthful exuberance had given way to exhaustion before she had traveled even a third of the distance to the base. Even standing still, she could feel the midday sun beating down on her, sapping her strength and wringing every drop of water out of her. At times the jungle canopy made a tunnel that afforded some protection against the sun, but after spying a python in the branches of a tree, Yukari was disinclined to linger in the shade.

  Yukari found a large stone in a small clearing at the side of the road and sat down. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to turn back and make it to town, much less press on to the base. Tired and alone, Yukari was on the brink of despair when she heard the sound of an engine approaching.

  “Yes! A car!” Yukari bounded off the rock. She walked to the middle of the road, planted her feet, and waited.

  The noise suddenly grew louder. A huge car came speeding out of the shadows at the far side of the clearing. It was a Humvee. The driver slammed on the brakes, bringing the car skidding to a stop in front of Yukari.

  “Trying to get yourself killed?!” the driver shouted in Japanese. A large man who looked to be in his twenties sat alone in the car. He didn’t look happy.

  Yukari ran up to the driver-side window. “Could you give me a lift?”

  “Outta my way, kid, I’m in a hurry.”

  “I was heading to the base, but I don’t think I can make it.”

  He unlocked the passenger door. “Time’s a-wastin’.”

  Yukari climbed in. From the outside, the Humvee looked like a Jeep with a roof, but inside it was spacious, big enough to seat four across a single seat. “Better buckle up. It can get a little bumpy.”

  “Right.”

  The man slammed his beast of a vehicle into gear, and they sprang forward. Yukari sank into the hard seat as the car jostled her every which way.

  She glanced over in the driver’s direction. “So…”

  “Yeah?”

  “You going to Santiago?”

  “Hamamatsu.”

  “What?”

  “Hamamatsu. That’s home.”

  What was up with this guy?

  The Humvee sped through the jungle at terrific speed, brushing past plants that encroached too close on either side. Over the whine of the engine, Yukari made out a low, methodic whir coming from behind and a little above them as well. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.

  “Damn, that was fast.”

  “What’s that sound?”

  “HSS-2. Security chopper. But they have to catch me first!” he said, upshifting the double clutch and slamming the accelerator to the floor.

  The roar of the helicopter blades was almost deafening. A shadow crept over the hood of the Humvee. Overhead a large boat-shaped object seemed to hover. A voice rang out over a loudspeaker, drowning out even the sound of the blades. “Pull over now, Yasukawa, and we can still keep this civil!”

  Yukari cast a sideways glance at the driver’s seat. Apparently his name was Yasukawa.

  “I’m not stopping till I’m back in Hamamatsu!”

  “You’ve got to the count of three before we open up with our Baby Mark II. One!”

  Yasukawa’s foot didn’t move from the pedal.

  The Humvee climbed a steep grade, going airborne as it topped the rise.

  “Two! This isn’t some slack-spined Self-Defense crew you’re dealing with. We will fire, Yasukawa!”

  “Do me a favor!” barked Yasukawa.

  “Who, me?!”

  “Wave your hands so the chopper can see you.”

  “But they said they were going to shoot—”

  “If you don’t want that to happen, better start wavin’.”

  Yukari leaned out the passenger-side window. The helicopter was trailing them at a distance of about fifty meters. A man leaned out an open side door, pointing something with a long, slender barrel at them.

  Yukari waved her arms like mad.

  Yasukawa flipped a switch to turn on the Humvee’s bullhorn and shouted into the mike. “See this kid, Kurosu? You want her blood on your hands, be my guest!”

  The barrel belched flame.

  Yukari ducked back inside the car with a yelp.

  Something whizzed past her head, exploding where it struck the road
in front of them. The Humvee leapt through the rising flames like a lion at the circus.

  “You said they wouldn’t shoot!”

  Rocket fuel burned on the hood of the car. Yasukawa kept driving. “Kurosu doesn’t want me to make it to town.”

  “Kurosu?”

  “Chief of security—damn!”

  FWOOMP!

  The second shell exploded ahead of them, bringing a large gum tree down across the road. Yasukawa jerked the wheel hard to the right, sending the Humvee into the jungle.

  “Out!”

  Yukari pushed the door open and slid to the ground.

  “This way! Run!”

  Yukari hurried down a steep trail after Yasukawa. “Why do I have to run?”

  “If Kurosu catches you, he’ll use you as a hostage.”

  “What? That’s psycho!”

  “That’s island fever.”

  “Island fever?”

  “Far as he’s concerned, what happens on the island stays on the island. This whole damn place is a loony bin!”

  Yukari kept running. Soon they were out of the jungle and in a familiar sweet potato field. They could see Santiago on the far side.

  The helicopter had gained some altitude now, but it didn’t show any signs of breaking off the chase.

  “He wouldn’t dare shoot at us in town,” said Yasukawa, jogging across the field.

  “But they’re watching us.”

  “We’ll lose ourselves in a crowd. Next stop, Chinatown.”

  “Then what?”

  “Shut up and move.”

  Soon they were in the backstreets of Chinatown. They ducked low, keeping close to the walls of the houses. After darting in and out of what seemed like the hundredth alleyway, Yasukawa walked up to the back of a house and rapped on the door.

  “Yo, Cheung! It’s me, Yasukawa! Open up!”

  The door swung open.

  “Look here! Mr. Yasukawa and young lady. What’s wrong?”

  “Let us in. I’ll explain later.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Mr. Cheung stepped aside to let them in. They were in the kitchen at the back of the restaurant.

  “Got any empty rooms?”

  “Aiyaa…” Cheung sighed. Then, with a wink, “You not waste any time. This way, please.”

  They climbed a flight of stairs up to a small twin bedroom. Apparently the second floor of the Tianjin Restaurant was a hotel.

  “Enjoy yourselves. You want something to drink?”

  “You got the wrong idea, Mr. Cheung. We’re on the lam.”

  “On the lam?”

  Yasukawa produced a one hundred Solomon Islands dollar bill from his pocket and pushed it into Cheung’s hand.

  “If anybody from the base comes poking around, we’re not here.”

  “Ah, I see. I will keep you on the lam, Mr. Yasukawa,” Cheung said with a wink.

  “One more thing. I need you to get a boat down to Clepp Point for me. Something that’ll get me to Santa Isabel.”

  “Leave everything to me. You rest here until tonight. I bring you tea.”

  Cheung soon returned with a small teapot and two cups. Yukari and Yasukawa sat down side by side on the bed. One sip of hot oolong tea and Yukari was already feeling more like herself.

  “So, Mr. Yasukawa.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Feel like explaining why people were shooting missiles at us in the jungle?”

  “Yeah, that. Long story short, working conditions on the base took a sudden turn for the worse. I submitted my resignation, but something tells me they didn’t accept.”

  “So that’s what that was about?”

  “More or less.”

  Yukari knitted her brow. She poured some more tea into her cup and moved casually to the edge of the bed.

  “What’s your story? Don’t get many girls running around by themselves out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  Yukari had her doubts about Yasukawa, but if he worked on the base, she decided he was worth the risk. She took a photograph from a pouch on her backpack, a picture of a man and woman posed in front of the ocean.

  “Do you know this man?”

  The man in the picture was about thirty, handsome, with the look of an eager salesman.

  “Nope. Never seen him.”

  “It’s from sixteen years ago, so he’d look a little older now.”

  Yasukawa took another look. “Sorry, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh…” Yukari’s shoulders sank.

  “Who is he?”

  “My dad.”

  “You came all the way out here looking for Daddy?”

  “I heard there were a bunch of Japanese in the Solomon Islands. I thought maybe he was one of them.”

  “There are about three hundred at the base, but it’s only been there three years.”

  “What?”

  “Only showed up two years ago myself. Sixteen years ago, there wouldn’t have been anything to find.”

  “My dad disappeared before I was born. On my parents’ honeymoon.”

  “Just like that? Gone?”

  “Yeah. They were in their hotel—it was their first night on Guadalcanal. He said he was going out to look at the moon, and he never came back.”

  “I’ve heard stranger things. Guess that makes you the honeymoon baby.”

  Silence fell over the room.

  “Musta been hard on your mother.”

  “She said she was all right. She went to the police, and they looked for my dad for a week without finding anything. Then she canceled the rest of her vacation and flew back to Japan. She had a career of her own, so money was never a problem. And I never knew him, so it’s not like I miss him. But still…”

  The memories came rushing back.

  Parents’ Day at school.

  The class report on The Return, a movie about a missing father who suddenly comes home after twelve years.

  Ever since elementary school, Japanese class had been one nightmare after another. Teachers really had a thing for assigning essays about your family. Not that the essays themselves were all that bad. The worst part was her classmates. A ring of sympathetic friends would encircle her, and without fail a boy would come to tease her. Then more girls would come to defend her, and before long things were out of hand. When the dust settled, half the class would be looking at her with pity.

  Yukari never felt sorry for herself. It was always well-meaning third parties who did it for her. It took a lot of self-control to keep from breaking down sometimes. Yukari was tougher than most, but not that tough.

  “The not knowing is the hard part. Was it a random accident? Did he get cold feet and just leave? Did he kill himself? I have to know.”

  They heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. The door swung open, revealing the friendly proprietor.

  “You have visitors, Mr. Yasukawa.”

  “Visitors? Who the hell—” A man in combat fatigues entered after Cheung. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and he carried a pistol at his hip. “Kurosu?” Behind him, a bulky man in his fifties pushed into the room. Director Nasuda. The third and final person through the door was a woman in her late twenties with long hair, dressed all in white. “Et tu, Satsuki?”

  Yasukawa turned on Mr. Cheung. “You sold me out!”

  “Base good for business. Everybody get along, business stay good.”

  “You just lost a customer.”

  “Give it up, Yasukawa,” said Kurosu. “You’re not gettin’ off that easy.”

  “That’s right,” added Satsuki. “We’ve got two years of training tied up in you. We can’t let you just walk away.” She turned to Director Nasuda for agreement, but his attention was squarely on Yukari. Not to be outdone, Yukari held his gaze.

  “Who’s the girl?” the director asked.

  “Leave her out of this! She’s just some kid looking for her dad.”

  “Is that right? Interesting…” he mumbled with disinterest. “Stand up, wou
ld you?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Come on, give us a twirl. Let’s have a look at you.”

  “I asked why.”

  “Humor me!”

  Yukari shrugged, then rose from the bed and did a quick spin.

  “Satsuki,” the director lowered his voice, “how much would you say she weighs?”

  Satsuki’s eyes flashed. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty-seven kilograms.”

  “Thirty-seven? Good, good. Measurements?”

  “Height, about 154 centimeters, eighty-one centimeters through the chest, fifty-four at the waist, maybe eighty-two at the hips.” She smiled. “The very picture of health.”

  His eyes still glued to Yukari, Director Nasuda nodded. He mumbled something under his breath.

  Yasukawa shouted, “You can’t be serious!”

  “You stay out of this! We don’t have room in our organization for cowards who turn tail and run when they’re needed most. You’re fired! Go back to Hamamatsu!”

  “Wait—what?”

  Ignoring him, the director approached Yukari, his voice smooth as silk. “What’s your name?”

  “Yukari Morita.”

  “Here looking for your father, was it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “There are over seven hundred islands in the Solomons, and every one a jungle. How exactly did you plan on finding him?”

  “I, uh…” Before she left, Yukari had just assumed she’d figure things out as she went. It wasn’t until she’d reached the islands that she realized how naive she’d been.

  “What would you say if I told you we’d help you look for your father?”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “My name is Isao Nasuda. I’m the director of the space center here on the island. We have helicopters, trucks, ships—even contacts with the local police. Japanese don’t exactly blend in on the Solomons. If he’s here, we’ll find him.”

  “Really? You’d do that?” Yukari practically leapt up with joy.

  “Don’t listen to him!” shouted Yasukawa.

  The director turned to Cheung. “Take Mr. Yasukawa downstairs and give him something to eat, would you? He gets so excitable on an empty stomach.” Then, to Kurosu, “Go with him. We wouldn’t want him to have any trouble finding his table.”