Kamikaze by Jayel

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Kamikaze, Part 13
by Jayel

Before I could form a personal reaction to what Alonzo had suggested or even ask him to explain what exactly he was suggesting, the whole camp was in an uproar. I had never seen the members of the Eden Project so agitated, even when under direct attack. Everyone was talking--or yelling, actually--at once, and no one was listening. Only Alonzo seemed calm.

"All right, everybody, just shut up!" Danziger finally roared in the only voice that could possibly have been heard above the din. "Let the man talk."

"But John, he's crazy," Bess protested. "Even if we could blow up this satellite that EVE is supposed to be on--"

"Which, I'm sorry, Alonzo, seems a little farfetched," Morgan added.

"We can't, because we'll die," Bess finished.

"Not if you can all transfer to Tara's system first," Alonzo said. "Yale, you were fine for more than three hours after the transfer, right?"

"To all appearances, yes," Yale replied slowly.

"That's a pretty big window of opportunity when you're talking about an orbiter run," Alonzo said. "If I take off just before Tara starts a full group transfer, I should be able to destroy the satellite within minutes after its completion."

"But the connector grows back," I said, unreasonably proud of myself for sounding so calm.

"Doesn't matter," Tara said, her first words since Alonzo had started babbling about flying that stupid rocket. "If the primary data/power source is eliminated, the neural connector should automatically switch over to its secondary source, creating a loop which will eventually solidify into a primary arterial data/power flow."

"What she said," Baines joked grimly.

"If EVE is gone, you guys will just stay hooked up to Tara," Alonzo translated. "That's the only way to do it. As long as EVE exists, these connectors are going to find her--it--whatever. We've got to destroy the hardware, and the only way to do that is with the rocket."

"Hang on a minute," Danziger said. "You keep saying 'destroy the satellite,' like it's a done deal, but what makes you think you can? I mean, Bennett built the damned thing, and he couldn't just destroy it."

"He didn't have a viable surface to orbit transport," Alonzo pointed out. "And he and the rest of his group needed EVE's life support systems to make it back to the stations." He turned to me. "I didn't really know it at the time, but that's why we had to take Devon out that cold sleep capsule, even if it was better for her medically to stay in it," he explained. "Now we aren't dependent on any of EVE's systems, so we can shut it down entirely."

"Yeah, but how?" Danziger persisted. "You've got to figure the security systems on that thing are unreal. How do you plan to get past them? Plus, it's a computer satellite; it won't have any kind of on-site life support, and we don't have any kind of mobile suit, even if the rocket had the power to support it, which I seriously doubt. You planning to just hold your breath, jump on top, rip out a few wires, and take off?"

"No, of course he isn't," I said, my careful calm unravelling at light speed. "Don't you get it, John? He didn't say he was going to disengage the satellite's systems or shut down EVE. He said he was going to *blow up EVE.*" I looked at Alonzo, forcing him to look me in the eye. "This is a kamikaze mission, isn't it? You're not coming back."

"What's a kamikaze mission?" True asked. No one said anything for a long moment, then the teacher in Yale took over.

"Kamikaze is an old Japanese word," he explained, his tone studiously matter-of-fact, as if True had merely posed a rhetorical query in the schoolroom. "Japanese pilots during the Second World War back on Earth would crash their planes into enemy ships to destroy them, committing suicide in the process. It was assumed that the sacrifice of an individual life was warranted by the significance of the national cause."

"They were dead, but Japan got rid of one more enemy ship," Val finished, ruffling True's hair. "All the best pilots wanted to be kamikazes. Sort of the ultimate exercise in no guts, no glory." His blue eyes met Alonzo's brown ones. "They all thought they were going straight to heaven by way of a fireball, and maybe they were right. They were unstoppable; that much is certain. But hey, buddy, what makes you think you're the one going?"

"Val, no," Tara began.

"I mean, I'm the one who had the dream about the rocket, remember?" Val continued, putting a hand on her shoulder. "The Terrians seemed to think I would need it, not you."

"This isn't your problem," Alonzo answered. "You said yourself, you guys have no problem with EVE."

"Exactly," Tara said firmly.

"It hasn't been decided that anybody is going anywhere," Danziger interrupted.

"John, I have got to do this," Alonzo said. "It's the only way to save all of us or any of us." He looked pointedly at Tara. "Including you. You've already discovered you can't just wipe out EVE from here, and EVE is killing the planet. If we die, you and Val die with us."

"I haven't tried to just wipe out EVE," she retorted, all traces of Southern sweetness gone. "I've been trying to help you eco-terrorist idiots--I could walk into that ship and shut down Reilly's vessel right now and let you guys all go to hell right along with it."

"Tara, stop it," Val ordered, catching hold of her, but she broke free.

"You're right, though," she went on crisply. "The only way to save the planet and these people is to fly the rocket straight into EVE's heart. And the only one way that will work is if I help you. I don't--*we* don't necessarily need you, Solace. But you sure as hell need me."

Everyone was stunned silent, even Morgan, and I realized that no one but me had ever heard this Tara before. No one but me and Val knew Reilly's daughter. "So you'll just let us die, then?" I asked, going to Alonzo's side.

Her eyes met mine for a long moment, then looked away. "Not if I don't have to," she mumbled. She looked up at Val as if for comfort, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'll help you," she said to Alonzo. "I'll even die if I have to." She glanced back over her shoulder. "But not Val."

"Tara--" Val began, reaching for her.

"No!" she shouted, jerking free of him again. "If anybody dies, it isn't going to be my husband. That's it. That's all." She looked up at Alonzo. "Do you want my help?"

No, I wanted to scream. Better we should all die together--

"Yes," he said, holding out his hand to her.

She took it and shook it solemnly. "Okay," Tara said. "Come on. I'll show you how to fly the rocket."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone tried to stop him, of course. John even hit him again, hard enough to knock him out cold. But when he came around, he still insisted that at first light, he was getting in Renaldi's rocket and crashing it into the EVE satellite, destroying both our problem and himself.

"And you think this will save Devon," I said. He was sitting in the cockpit of the rocket, familiarizing himself with the controls. Everyone else had come out to where the thing was parked, both individually and in groups, to try and help me convince him to find another way, but by now they had all given up and left me to battle on my own.

"I think this will save everyone. I know it will," he said, getting up and swinging jauntily up and out of the cockpit.

"Because Devon told you," I continued.

He stopped, as if the adrenaline that had energized him had suddenly run out. "Yes," he said, turning to me, really focussed on me for the first time since he'd hatched this crazy plan. "That's part of it, yes." He came over to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "But that isn't the only reason, Doc. Don't you see? This makes perfect sense--"

"No, it doesn't," I insisted, refusing to cry again in spite of the aching lump in my throat. "Your getting yourself killed makes no sense whatsoever--"

"Yes, it does," he interrupted. He reached up and framed my face with his hands, just looking into my eyes for a long moment. "You are so beautiful," he murmured. "I've never seen anyone so beautiful . . ."

"Stop it," I demanded, trying and failing to sound stern. "You can't make me feel better about this, fly-boy--"

"I know," he laughed. "I don't want to make you feel better--don't you think I'd be insulted if you didn't try to stop me?"

"So why are you going?"

"I have to--"

"No, you don't. Val could go--or if we can't convince Tara, then nobody goes. That would be better--"

"No, it wouldn't." His eyes were serious, but all I could think about was how the sight of his thick, dark lashes against the pale of his face in the moonlight broke my heart. "Doc, listen to me," he continued, shaking me a little. "Ever since we crashed on this rock, I've been trying to figure out why I'm here."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely confused. I couldn't really hear anything he said. Every word sounded like nothing but "he's leaving and there's nothing you can do to stop him . . . you're losing him forever."

"This is Devon's dream, and you're here to save those kids, and John is here to take care of everybody, and maybe Morgan's supposed to be keeping everybody on their toes or giving them a common enemy," he said. "The point is, what good is a pilot in a place like this?"

"You saved me," I pointed out stubbornly. "That may not be much, but I like to think it's something."

"It's everything," he agreed. "I had even decided it was enough." He combed his fingers back through my hair, loosening the barrette that held it in place. "You saved me first," he continued, smiling gently. "The only thing that kept me from literally going over a cliff was the idea that I might get to know you."

"So you have to stay with me," I said, clinging to him. "Alonzo, please--"

"If I stay with you, we'll both die," he said, his arms closing in around me. "If I go, at least one of us gets to live." He brushed his lips over my face, planting tender kisses along my brow and cheek and jaw, tasting my tears. "That's something, isn't it?" he whispered.

"It's not enough," I protested, clutching him with all my strength. "One of us just isn't enough."

"I know," he agreed, sinking to the ground in my arms and kissing me fiercely. He fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, and for once when I pushed his hand away it was only so I could undo them faster. I had loved him almost at first sight and wanted him desperately for months before our first awkward kisses, but I had never ached for him like this. I had never ached for anyone or anything like this. "I'm sorry, Doc," he mumbled against my neck, and I couldn't be sure if he was apologizing for ravishing me in the middle of a clearing, for which he had no need to be sorry, or for leaving me, for which he could never be sorry enough.

"It's okay," I answered, laughing and crying at once and still struggling to be closer, to find a way to hold him with me so he couldn't go away. "I need you--"

"Need you," he repeated softly, tugging his own shirt over his head and falling back into my arms. And as I held him tight, all I could think was that at least we had this. At least I would get to feel this way--at least I had love, and that was more than I had ever dreamed on the stations. The planet may have been taking him away, but at least I got to borrow him for a while. Maybe that was supposed to be enough.

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