“I guess that you are waken up by Ms. Kusanagi, correct?”
“Oh, was that her?” Tokino nods, while yawning. “I didn’t have enough time to see who it was. By the way ..., who are you?”
“I’m Kannami, your roommate.”
“Oh ...,” Tokino squints a little and takes a glance at my entire body. “Then, use the bottom of the bunk bed.”
“I have used it already.” I reply.
“Oh ... I didn’t notice that.”
Last night, Tokino should have seen me. He came back in the middle of the night. I heard the sound of a motorcycle engine, and then the footsteps approaching me. I got out of the bed to greet the comrade sharing the same room. However, he looked exhausted to the level that he could barely give back a silent nod to my words. Then, he took away the clothes and climbed to the top of the bunk bed quickly. The impression that I had of him was that he was rather taciturn, but he might have been just drunk. In short, he does not seem to remember what happened last night. He did not look that much heavily drunk at all.
“You look like you are feeling sick.” I speak to him.
“Well, I am not feeling too good.” He replies. He gives off a slight smile, and after that he shakes his head. “Let’s go.”
He starts walking, and I follow him. In the middle of the stairs, Tokino looks back at me just once.
“I’m Tokino, by the way.” He extends his hand toward me, when we reach the landing. His hand is far bigger than mine.
-2-
The cockpit of Sanka Mark B is not spacious. It best suits my rather small frame. Compared to Mark A, an earlier version, in respect of its shape, its cowling is relatively low and the rear end of its canopy is swelled. It drastically improves its visibility both on the front and the rear sides. I can definitely say that this influence is enormous. Beside that, two automatic cannons, which are mounted on left and right wings on both sides of Mark A, are now mounted at the bottom of the fuselage for Mark B. I have heard that it is a desperate measure in order to make the wings thinner. Due to the unexpected improvement of the moment of inertia, rolling movement, which has already been good enough to be called a ‘windmill’, has shown further refinement. This feature of the improvement is welcomed by the pilots most. Generally speaking, those who do not fly planes value catalogue data (statistics) of weapons, whereas those who fly planes tend to give top priority to how light the handling of the control stick is. The former seriously worry that an airplane crashes due to the lack of the pilot’s skill, and the latter always fear that a pilot dies due to the lack of the performance of the airplane. Since the first airplane in the history took off, this gap of mentality has been widening and not been narrowing.
I am flying behind Tokino’s aircraft, while maintaining a slightly higher altitude with respect to him. Clouds are preventing me from seeing the ground.
Below me is pure white, above me is blue, and at the zenith is the sun.
The vibration of the engine I am feeling from behind is comfortable to me. It is my favorite frequency. It is as if I am given a massage. I have yet to try the engine breathing I heard about from Sasakura, the mechanic, this morning. It is 13:12 now.
Each time I fly, I listen to music. Honestly, I want to turn up the volume to the extent that I cannot hear any other sounds. But, I should not do that while on duty. Of course, I would get in trouble if I fail to hear the radio communication transmissions. Besides, other than that, I have to be able to catch any sounds because they are very important information for me. Abnormal sound from the engine, fuselage, and airframe. The sound from the linkage of the steering mechanisms. Buzzing sound of the propellers. Signals from the instrument panel. So, the music that I listen to should be set at a low volume. The tranquil melody works as a trigger. All I have to do is to pay attention to the sound coming over the music.
If anything, I prefer loud music. But, it cannot be helped. I sometimes think I occasionally get the opportunity to be able to listen to the loud music as I like on my way back from a solo scouting mission. So, I put such type of music media in my flight bag. I have yet to get the opportunity to listen to it so far. I have already made up my mind to listen to it when I am cornered to the level that I can do nothing about anything. In that case, I hope I can die before the playback of the music media ends.
The cloud below me is globular like a bubble. The cloud above me is gray and flat. I fly straight between them.
Since the takeoff, I have heard Tokino’s voice through my earphones just once. The communication is coming in, just when the landing gears are retracted. I am in the middle of the slow climb to the clouds.
“Do not tell me ... This is not your first experience, is it?” He asks so abruptly.
“What do you mean ... by ‘this’? This mission? Or, this aircraft?”
“Aircraft.”
“This is not the first time for me to aviate Mark B.” I reply.
“Then, you know the engine breathing, don’t you?” Tokino asks.
“We should not talk through the radio communication.”
“Okay.”
After that, there is no radio communication anymore for the time being.
To engage in the mission according to the plan, we fly toward west-southwest. The temperature at the ground level is close to 30 degrees Celsius, so I want to soar in the open sky as soon as I can. It is my first flight in a week. The brightness of the sun in the sky is as usual. My face reflected on the polycarbonate surface of the instrument panel looks relieved for some reason. I may have to take my time occasionally to recognize my own presence.
It is getting very cold, before I know it. I feel the chill around my knees. But, my physical health condition is in a very good shape.
It is the first time in two months to aviate this type of aircraft.
I soon notice that this ranks the highest among the Mark Bs that I have ever piloted. I guess the previous pilot of this particular aircraft was such a tidy person. The interior of this aircraft is as neat and clean as the one displayed in a museum. I mean, no trace of stickers used for attaching photographs, no scratches of anyone’s initials, no marks for counting something, or no scribbling of modified versions of phrases by poets. Can it be that the mechanic crew named Sasakura has cleaned it up? No, he would never do that. Mechanics usually do not get their hands on a cockpit. Like a human’s stomach, this space is outside the plane from their point of view.
Come to think of it, I did not smell any human odor when I entered the cockpit. No trace of artificial perfume, either. I like it that way because I dislike that sort of thing. Only for that reason, I have come to like this aircraft. In many cases, I end up getting a headache in anyone else’s aircraft because of the pilot’s odor. I just cannot stand anyone else’s aircraft even more than somebody else’s car, clothes, rooms, or beds. Why? It is because I cannot just switch to a different aircraft or get out of the cockpit in the middle of the flight.
Tokino’s airplane slightly shakes its wings twice.
He seems to be thinking of descending. I start to wonder if we have already been flying for so long, and I read the clock.
I am sinking into the cloud. I close the throttle to keep some distance from Tokino’s aircraft. My aircraft vibrates a little. A slight feeling of floating. I love this particular sensation beyond description that I experience when descending. I feel good. It is as if various relationships are getting vague, or as if the things surrounding me are getting away from me. I want to keep falling endlessly, toward the center of the Earth ... I always associate such thing with one another. All of my coworkers often say that they love the acceleration on their backs when ascending. I think differently, the opposite. I can feel that I am released from something when I am descending more strongly than when I am ascending. Probably, I feel that I am being released from the inconveniences of living in this world. For any living creatures, nothing can be bigger restraints than that.
“From my point of view, you seem to want to die. Is that right?”
I wonder who has said so.
Ah ... It’s Amano. He was such a clown. When did his aircraft crash? ... Was it in summer two years ago, if I remember correctly? While crashing, he said to everyone, something like this:
“Tell the auntie in the cafeteria that Amano ran away.”
As I recall that, it is making me snigger. He was not the type of guy who could say such an elegant joke. Probably, it was the best one he had been thinking about and preparing for quite a long time.
I have just passed through the cloud. A black forest appears faintly. Amano probably saw such a black forest, I think. “Even though the Earth is approaching straight, it is strange that there is no hole ...” He might have thought so.
Immediately after the cloud has disappeared, I can search for Tokino’s aircraft. He is at the higher altitude than I am. There is quite a distance between us. He is shaking the wings again. He seems to be concerned about me. I chuckle alone again. Contrary to the previous impression of him, he is such type of guy unexpectedly. That’s really none of his business, I think.