the very least, don’t get killed. He could sort all this out later. He’d have plenty of time. As long as he kept himself alive.
The JAM were targeting Yukikaze. She was fighting them to the utmost limits of her abilities. He could not perceive the fierce battle being waged between them, yet he knew the enemy was there. She was warning him: They’re here.
THE MAN CAME bearing nationalism. After touring several sectors of Faery Base, his pale blue eyes protected behind a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators, he announced that he wanted to learn more about the mindset of the soldiers who fought the JAM.
Although he had a press pass issued by the United Nations Earth Defense Force GHQ, Faery Base’s authorities didn’t want him there, which they made clear in the way they treated him. They carefully questioned him to make sure the purpose of his investigation was not simply to reinforce his own preconceptions and warned him not to write an article that would be slanted in favor of a specific country.
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” American freelance journalist, military critic, lobbyist, and writer Andy Lander asked with an irritated air. “Are you suggesting that I’d intentionally write a biased article?”
“Not at all,” answered Colonel Roland of the base’s Office of Public Affairs. “I’m just asking you to recognize the fact that this is a war between all of humanity and an alien race. As to how you do your job—”
“Yes, of course I realize that. But I think that approach is a little too vague. I want to ask the soldiers about what tangible things they’re fighting for here on the front lines of Faery, not about some abstract sense of duty.”
“Our mission is to defend Earth. What’s so abstract about that? The only reason we’re here is to keep the people of Earth from being attacked.”
“I’d still like to try and conduct a deeper analysis than that.”
“Then why don’t I save you the trouble?” Colonel Roland responded with an irritated look on his face. “Here’s what we’re fighting for: self-preservation. In combat, that’s all that matters.” His expression suddenly softened. “A perfect answer, don’t you think? A solid answer. It’s not as if anyone here actually wants this war.”
“Would anyone be that crazy?”
“There are plenty of people back on Earth who might be. A lot of individuals and organizations are making huge profits from it.”
In the end, Lander never heard anyone in the FAF say that they were fighting for their homeland. And he had certainly never anticipated witnessing a scenario in which Russians were fighting using American-made weapons, or even more shocking, vice versa.
Although the materials for the majority of the fighter systems the FAF was equipped with came from Earth, the designs were entirely their own. Lander tried to gather information on the research and development teams but was given no details: each time, his inquiry was blocked for “security reasons.” Finally, in a fit of pique, he declared that he thought it was a misuse of funding for the FAF to be developing fighters on its own without passing that technology back to Earth. He demanded to know what sort of fighters were being developed and was determined to see one for himself. Then he formally requested the opportunity to go up in one. He had never flown in anything aside from passenger jets, but he was an intrepid individual and in good physical health. He was a man who had traveled the world, after all.
The FAF authorities, partially to rid themselves of what was becoming a significant annoyance, granted him immediate approval. Colonel Roland told Lander that he hoped he’d appreciate being able to personally evaluate the sort of highperformance equipment being used to protect Earth. Lander was given a physical exam and some simple anti-G training, and then signed a waiver stating that the air force could not be held responsible if anything happened to
The JAM were targeting Yukikaze. She was fighting them to the utmost limits of her abilities. He could not perceive the fierce battle being waged between them, yet he knew the enemy was there. She was warning him: They’re here.
THE MAN CAME bearing nationalism. After touring several sectors of Faery Base, his pale blue eyes protected behind a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators, he announced that he wanted to learn more about the mindset of the soldiers who fought the JAM.
Although he had a press pass issued by the United Nations Earth Defense Force GHQ, Faery Base’s authorities didn’t want him there, which they made clear in the way they treated him. They carefully questioned him to make sure the purpose of his investigation was not simply to reinforce his own preconceptions and warned him not to write an article that would be slanted in favor of a specific country.
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” American freelance journalist, military critic, lobbyist, and writer Andy Lander asked with an irritated air. “Are you suggesting that I’d intentionally write a biased article?”
“Not at all,” answered Colonel Roland of the base’s Office of Public Affairs. “I’m just asking you to recognize the fact that this is a war between all of humanity and an alien race. As to how you do your job—”
“Yes, of course I realize that. But I think that approach is a little too vague. I want to ask the soldiers about what tangible things they’re fighting for here on the front lines of Faery, not about some abstract sense of duty.”
“Our mission is to defend Earth. What’s so abstract about that? The only reason we’re here is to keep the people of Earth from being attacked.”
“I’d still like to try and conduct a deeper analysis than that.”
“Then why don’t I save you the trouble?” Colonel Roland responded with an irritated look on his face. “Here’s what we’re fighting for: self-preservation. In combat, that’s all that matters.” His expression suddenly softened. “A perfect answer, don’t you think? A solid answer. It’s not as if anyone here actually wants this war.”
“Would anyone be that crazy?”
“There are plenty of people back on Earth who might be. A lot of individuals and organizations are making huge profits from it.”
In the end, Lander never heard anyone in the FAF say that they were fighting for their homeland. And he had certainly never anticipated witnessing a scenario in which Russians were fighting using American-made weapons, or even more shocking, vice versa.
Although the materials for the majority of the fighter systems the FAF was equipped with came from Earth, the designs were entirely their own. Lander tried to gather information on the research and development teams but was given no details: each time, his inquiry was blocked for “security reasons.” Finally, in a fit of pique, he declared that he thought it was a misuse of funding for the FAF to be developing fighters on its own without passing that technology back to Earth. He demanded to know what sort of fighters were being developed and was determined to see one for himself. Then he formally requested the opportunity to go up in one. He had never flown in anything aside from passenger jets, but he was an intrepid individual and in good physical health. He was a man who had traveled the world, after all.
The FAF authorities, partially to rid themselves of what was becoming a significant annoyance, granted him immediate approval. Colonel Roland told Lander that he hoped he’d appreciate being able to personally evaluate the sort of highperformance equipment being used to protect Earth. Lander was given a physical exam and some simple anti-G training, and then signed a waiver stating that the air force could not be held responsible if anything happened to
Similar Books
