“Nothing, sir.” The young mechanic answered. “I will finish it in about one hour.”
“I might ask you to adjust some of the parts after the flight.”
“Of course, that is understood, sir.”
“Do you think you will have enough time?”
“I have to take care of another aircraft, but that will be okay, sir. You know, I still have the whole day.”
“I want to get on it. Is that okay?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
I climbed up onto the main wing and got myself into the cockpit.
I sat on the seat, and then adjusted its positioning.
I grabbed the control stick, and then looked to the right and left to check the position.
Placing my feet on the rudder pedals. I gently stepped on them to check the feeling.
I put my left hand on the throttle lever and applied my finger on the lock button.
Taking a deep breath.
I sat back in the seat and fastened the belt.
Closing my eyes.
I felt as if my body were sinking.
It was as if I myself was melting into the fuselage.
I was being assimilated into the Sanka.
I wanna fly ASAP, I craved.
Let me fly immediately, I wished.
A blue sky always appeared on the backside of my eyelids.
I knew that the image was etched on them.
I opened my eyes, and took a deep breath again.
Calm down. This is my job.
Without realizing it, I had come to admire it like a dream.
That’s not what I have to do.
Like a mail carrier stuffing letters into mailboxes.
I would steer toward proper directions to bring the enemy aircraft within the firing range.
This is my job.
Like a chef shaking seasonings above a frying pan.
My thumb would flick the trigger quickly.
Like washing dishes, I would roll sideways, and break away.
That’s right.
Calm down.
I opened the reference file, and decided to reread it from the scratch.
Judging from the experience I had had in the past, it would probably take place above the ocean. There was no other place where such many fighter aircrafts could gather. I could roughly imagine the position where we would first join the colleagues. If Kusanagi’s team would ascend, would that be the coordinate? No, there might be another development that was not listed in the reference. We might belong to the group responsible for the second phase of the attack. We were allocated to a relatively late time slot.
I wonder if Kusanagi will fly.
I guess she will. So will Tokino and others. What formation will they fly in? Was extra personnel recruited after I left the team?
About 15 minutes had passed, and the sounds from below the aircraft faded. I got out of the cockpit and there was no mechanic within the sight. The dolly was also gone. Probably, he was going somewhere to take the next equipment. I decided to smoke in front of the hangar.
The sky was covered with clouds that were hanging low. The blowing wind was chilly and gave me the impression that it was about to snow.
The mechanic appeared from the back of the hangar. The storage room seemed to be located at the basement of the rear part. After raising my hand toward him, I decided to take a walk for a while. I made up my mind to take a look at the runway. In addition, I could warm myself by walking. Honestly, I even felt I wanted to run a little bit.
When I reached a place from which I could look over the runway, I saw several persons running in the distance across the runway. It was not exactly a group of runners. Each of them was running independently. The sight was an indication that there were those who were sharing the same thoughts with each other. I could say that persons with similar characteristics were engaged in this job.
What we have to do before our flights are to have our aircrafts maintained and to control our own minds. Although I have tried various things in the past, I have come down to the conclusion that anything will do in the end. Running, reading book, or listening to music. Whatever I do, time advances even if it is slow. If I do not see the second hand of a clock, the time will come without fail.
Then, whatever worries I have, they will vanish into thin air once I take off from the ground, as if they had been lies.
It will not work while the tires were scrubbing the ground. The anxiety will not disappear until I can feel that only the control stick in my right hand is supporting everything, and that my right hand is holding everything of my freedom.
Once I grab the freedom, I am no longer afraid of anything.
I gain the altitude steadily, and will get up above the clouds shortly.
Everything becomes more beautiful.
Even humiliations, glories.
Defeats, victories.
Then, life and death.
Everything is beautiful.
My right hand will provide everything.
Everything is for us.
I am reminded of the fact.
Therefore.
I will wait for the time peacefully and quietly.
Waiting is, in short, equivalent to living on the ground.
Although I intended to walk, I found myself jogging lightly before I knew it. Occasionally, I passed by other pilots. No one looked at me in the eyes. One was wearing a hood, another was wearing a pair of sunglasses. However, no one was looking downward. Everyone wanted to leave the ground. Probably, it was the only thing that we were wishing for. Flying to the sky, immediately.
Fighter aircrafts were taking off from the runway. As I saw them while running, five aircrafts left the ground. Due to the poor visibility, they disappeared soon after they climbed upward. I heard just their engine sounds. I guessed they were conducting the test flight for certain adjustments. I checked my wristwatch. I still had two hours to go until my turn.
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