Nineveh, oh Nineveh, mighty city,
Ancient wonder of man,
Bloody city, full of lies and robbery,
Where art thou now?
Lie thou in the dust, never to rise any more.
"General Dragon here."
"Hey, Bobby. It's me, Don. I've just finished analyzing the data tracks from the recording pod."
"And?"
"391st agrees with me. Readings are at best anomalous."
Bobby Dragon's misgivings grew, but he masked it by saying, "Well, that's a load off my mind."
"That's not all, boss."
"Oh?"
"We're being told to get out of here."
"What?"
"According to my friend here in the COMNAVDET HQ staff, there's been a lot of backdoor to-and-fro between the North Koreans and the Japanese. We're considered an 'embarrassment' now, and the powers that be think our speedy departure will help cooler heads prevail."
"Oh? And what are the North Koreans threatening?"
"To report our activities in the UN, thereby embarrassing the US and Japan."
"Damn." Bobby stared blankly at the wall of his quarters for a moment. "Well, hell, they were the ones who sent us up there in the first place. Okay, I'll notify the detachment. How soon can we leave?"
"In 24 hours, boss. We still gotta prep and fuel Cannonball and the C-17."
"Get it done. In the meantime, I'm going to do some backdoor horsing around of my own."
At the other end of the line Don Weasel grinned. Bobby sounded pissed off, and was sure to feed shit into the oscillating bureaucratic fan. He wished he could be there to see it fly. That wasn't the only reason he was happy; he, technically a civilian, loved bossing military men around With Bobby's stars backing him up, it was easy to do. Nuclear bomb, indeed. The only bomb around here was the one Bobby sounded ready to drop on his adversaries.
------oOo------
Arkady Klimov sat and eyed the dark beauty in front of him, its thick metal canister gleaming in the warehouse lights. It wasn't easy transporting the eighty-kilogram package to this deserted spot in Yokohama, but he'd finally done it. The slumbering device begged him to release its power, sang to him with a ghostly cacophony of screams tickling the edge of his mind, and vouchsafed visions of an irradiated Tokyo burning under this very night sky.
He was about ready to make that vision a reality. He had spent the previous day engrossed in recalling what information he had retrieved from the Japanese Red Army captain's head just before he had killed him, and used it to arm the device. All that was left now was to set the timer and throw the two switches under their protective red toggle covers.
"Arkady?"
The voice caused him to turn around, away from his lovely tool. Behind him, standing there wearing her form-fitting blacksuit and boots, was his partner and lover Anna Seluce. She had accompanied him all the way here to Japan, and when he rebelled against SEED she had, to his surprise, helped him escape its grasping clutch and fled with him.
She scratched her fine brown hair nervously as the rogue TI's dark eyes came to rest upon hers. "Yes?"
"I've got bad news. I've called some of my contacts in SEED and they told me the Japanese TI is here in Tokyo."
"Oh really?" Arkady scratched his chin as he stood up from the rickety chair he'd been sitting in. "That is bad news." That Juna Ariyoshi was a definite threat. When he activated the bomb she was sure to feel its terrible beckoning call as well, as he could do now at close range, while it was quiet.
"Did they say where she was exactly?"
"No."
"Then it can't be helped. When I turn the bomb on, she'll be attracted to the Raaja it'll release like a bee to honey. I will have to fight her."
"Arkady..."
"No, don't worry about me. I'm sure I can handle her." The young Russian stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on Anna's cheek, feeling her love for him coursing through her. She closed her eyes and nuzzled his palm. "I'm more worried about you. You must use that money you got and find a way out of Japan in 48 hours."
"Forty-eight hours?"
Arkady looked at her steadily. "I'm giving you that long before I finally turn the bomb on."
"But...but what about you?"
"Oh, don't worry. I intend to live through this, if only to see those hypocrites at SEED wailing and despairing at the destruction of one of their beloved cities."
------oOo------
Orange-haired Cindy Klein sat in a chair beside of one of the intensive care beds in SEED's underground command post in the Kobe mountains. Her face was bleary; the SEED jumpsuit she was wearing was soiled. She hadn't slept for days, and the resident doctor was afraid that the large slash across one of her forearms was getting septic. She didn't give it any thought, painful though it must be. All her concern was directed towards the figure in strange blue clothes lying in the hospital bed.
No, Chris, she sent adamantly. I won't leave you.
Chris Hawken, wearing a respirator around the lower half of his face, feebly raised an arm and patted her hand, which lay on the edge of the coverlet. He had been seriously hurt while trying to stop the rebelling Arkady Klimov, and for a period of time everyone thought he wasn't going to recover from the injuries he had sustained. Cindy had never left his side while he recuperated.
You must, he replied. I thought I could do it by now, but I'm still too weak. You must tell Teresa that you have to go to Tokyo in order to help Juna.
Do I have to? the fifteen-year-old asked. I'm sure she can take care of herself.
Obey me, Cindy, the boy-man with the sandy hair and unnerving ice-blue eyes threatened, or I'll kill myself if necessary to get through to her if you won't.
Cindy sighed. Okay, okay, I'll go. But please be alright when I get back, she pleaded, her catlike yellow eyes full of worry.
A smile formed on Chris' thin, pale lips. I'll be waiting for your return, my friend.
------oOo------
The next day dawned clear and not so chilly--perfect flying weather for Nausicaä, who somehow met up again with Marco and Curtis on their sojourn through the skies over Tokyo. As they flew around, she laughingly dove, climbed, and rolled Mehve around Marco's Savoia and Curtis' R3C.
She's certainly happy today, Marco observed as he watched her goad Curtis into a short mock dogfight, which she handily won because of her innate skill as a pilot and because of her glider's lightness and inherent maneuverability. Whatever speed advantage the R3C0 had was easily negated by the Princess' deft handling, and techniques like throttling back at the apex of a sustained turn only frustrated Curtis' attempts to get her into his impotent gunsight.
Marco found himself impressed with her. She's really a natural, he thought to himself as both aircraft dove past the port side of his S.21. I guess she really can see the wind.
After a few minutes of bouncing around the sky like madmen the R3C0 slid back into position on the Savoia's starboard stern. A voice erupted in the headset that he was wearing under his leather helmet. It had been installed, along with a single-channel UHF radio, by Miyuki Kobayakawa's cousin Yotarou in the Savoia. He had also performed a similar service for the R3C, out of sheer joy at having had the chance to work on such unique planes.
"I quit!" came Curtis' scratchy voice. "That girl's crazy!"
Marco chuckled and pressed the transmit button mounted on the side of his throttle. "No way you're going to win against her," he said. "That glider of hers is simply too slippery."
"Tell me about it," agreed Curtis.
Marco Pagot, came the feminine voice in his mind. Marco looked around to see said girl flying in formation on his port, close enough to him, it seemed, that he could reach out and touch her prone form. She pulled away from him, then did a flick roll, as if saying, Want to play?
Marco shook his head vigorously. He had other things on his mind. He didn't want to waste his time chasing Nausicaä all over the metropolitan sky, and was enough of a gentleman to not want to appear unkind by saying so.
Nausicaä sidled up to him again. Please? she begged, her eyes earnest behind the goggles of her blue cloth helmet. It's such a fine day, it'd be a shame to waste it.
Marco sighed. In some ways the Princess reminded him strongly of Fio. Both could be girlishly bright and cheerful at times, moody and surprisingly mature at others. And both expressed their emotions in unusual ways, Fio through her lovingly crafted handiwork, and Nausicaä through her flying, much like he did.
He nodded reluctantly, then watched as Mehve pulled ahead of the S.21, did a little nose-up, and then a wingover. As the kite disappeared below the nose of his aircraft, he rolled his plane upside-down--not very easy to do, considering the unusual weight distribution of the Savoia--and dipped its nose towards the ground. Then he began to track her.
------oOo------
"Kimi no tonari de..." sang the eleven-year-old girl as she walked along the periphery of the park along with her friend. Her dress was a quilt-like patchwork of khaki, red, and white cloth, while her companion's consisted of a leather-like yellow-trimmed black top with a black long-sleeved shirt underneath, a black skirt that reached down to her mid-calf, and black leggings and boots.
Something white flashed by above the buildings on the opposite side of the street, and the patchwork-wearing girl said, "Tsugumi-chan, we did get back to the real world, didn't we?" Her obsidian hair was short, curling away from her head at the region of her ears; her eyes were sparkling and animated.
The other girl, who had wispy shoulder-length ebon hair and wide-set, somber eyes, replied with an annoyed, "Of course we did, Tenka. Why do you ask?"
"I've been seeing some strange things in the sky lately..."
"You must be dreaming. Although I wouldn't mind seeing Arisa-jousama, Chief Golgo and the others again. I miss them."
"Yeah. I miss Anna-sensei, Red-taichou and the rest of the Rainbow Guardians too." The merry girl pondered. "Are you sure it's alright that we go out wearing our old uniforms?"
"Why not? I don't think anyone would care anyway, and I wouldn't care if they laughed."
Tenka Hashimoto shrugged. "Oh, well. Come on, I'll race you to the train station." Before her companion could stop her, she took off, running down the avenue yelling "Yosoro, Bon Voyage!" as she went.
Tsugumi Shinohara shook her head in fond exasperation. "Tenka! Come back here!" Then she laughed and chased after her friend.
------oOo------
Bobby Dragon's allegation of a nuke in Tokyo, although unsubstantiated, made the quick round of the grapevines, and had a salutary, if unexpected, effect, one that would prove deleterious to the lost souls from Koganei: the JASDF increased air patrols throughout Japan, and became more vigilant in manning their radar stations. Had Marco, Curtis and Nausicaä known, they probably would have opted to stay on the ground: there was an airborne predator that day in the skies over Tokyo.
------oOo------
"Flycatcher Zero-One, this is Airborne Control. We have trade for you."
Lieutenant Jinpachi Denpo of the 305 Hikotai, 7 Kokudan based in Hyakuri AB depressed the microphone button. He was alone in the front seat of a Kawasaki T-4, the only one of a pair that was supposed to be flying that day. Flycatcher Zero-Two, with its air-sampling pod, was the victim of a bird strike, and thus had to abort and leave Zero-One to go it alone. The squadron operated Eagles as well; but being one of the most junior meant that he was relegated to the T-4 trainer, at least for this flight. All the available F-15s were being flown by those who had seniority.
"Flycatcher Zero-One, go."
"Three unknown contacts twenty-five kilometers southwest of your position, at an altitude of one thousand five hundred meters. No transponder, only skin paints."
"Roger, Zero-One is sweet, has two hours play time. Request vector."
"Roger. Zero-One, turn to heading two-three-three..."
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(Posted Sun, 10 Apr 2005 17:34)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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