Machines of Eden Read Free

dropped some
more. John wondered how low they needed to
go for this mysterious drop.
    A shaft of light came from
the cockpit. The captain stepped through, closing the door behind
him, and entered the cargo area. John eased his left leg underneath
him in a position that could launch him to his feet at a moment’s notice.
Mochizuki stood in the entrance, saying nothing.
    “ Can I help you find
something, Captain?” John asked. He kept his voice low and
neutral.
    Mochizuki reached out and
flipped on a small light. He stared at the
Sergeant , obviously troubled deeply about
something.
    “ What is it, Captain? A
problem with the flight plan?”
    Mochizuki stepped nearer
so he could heard more easily over the hum of the engines. “A big
problem. They just transmitted the cargo number of the thing I’m
supposed to drop here .”
    “ And?”
    “ It’s not a cargo number.
It’s a personnel ID number.”
    John stood up. “ Let me guess.
Y ou’re not carrying any coffins on board,
are you?”
    “ Nope. But you might need
one if I dropped you here ;
w e’re a long way from
any thing . Do you
know why PACOM would want you to make a secret jump at night this long after the cease-fire ?”
    “ No, I don’t. And I don’t
see how they know I’m on board, unless you told them.”
    “ I recorded eighty-nine kilograms of additional cargo weight, that’s it. But if anyone was
watching the hangar cameras they would have seen you board. We made
no attempt to hide our little interaction. Freight pilots do it all
the time, I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Now it is a big deal. And you
have no idea why ? ”
    “ No.”
    “ Somebody want to get rid
of you? You know something you shouldn’t?”
    John gave a tired smile. “Captain, every soldier in our army has
seen things they shouldn’t. The question is, what are you going to
do?”
    Mochizuki thought for a
moment, then hit a button on the wall. A light began to flash, and
with a hiss of hydraulics hidden under the roar of wind, the rear
cargo door began to open. “I’ ve got
t o drop something,” he shouted over the
roar, “something that weighs about eighty- nine kilos. Come on.”
    The captain walked down
the rows of strapped-in crates and then pointed at one. He
and John unbuckled it and moved it toward the door.
    Outside, the moon made a
silver path on the wrinkled surface of the ocean. Staring at
it, John became
aware of a dark mass in the water, black as pitch and unmoved by
waves. He realized a second later that he was seeing an
island.
    The crate slid off the edge
of the ramp and disappeared into the night. Immediately the cargo
door began to close, and the wind lessened. Finally, with a whine,
the door closed. The captain seemed to relax.
    “ Now stay out of the
cockpit, Sergeant. There are cams up there, too. And keep
quiet.”
    John nodded. “Thanks.”
    “ Least I can do for a war
hero,” Mochizuki replied. “I hate it when they mess with
people , and you’re supposed to be free of
it all now . We should hit the Philippines
by 0950, assuming my refuel comes through.”
    The captain left the cargo
area, but had just gotten the cockpit door open when the plane
bucked hard, as if kicked in the stomach, accompanied by the boom
of an explosion that dwarfed the engine drone. John saw a ball of fire flare past
the little window; glass shattered inward and the wind became a
scream. The plane pitched hard to the right, suddenly and
viciously. John yelped as he was thrown through the air, crashing hard
against the fuselage.
    He staggered to his feet
and began lurching toward the cockpit door, gripping cargo netting
to keep his feet. It took him a full minute to traverse the few
meters, and when he got through the open door, he was dizzy from a
rapid drop in altitude.
    Captain Mochizuki was in
his chair, head bleeding, speaking rapidly into his headset mic.
His voice was high, on the edge of breaking, face damp with
perspiration. Lights flashed red everywhere