by J. E. Gurley
The creature stepped across Breakfast Creek and within minutes had waded into the spaghetti of asphalt and concrete of the M7 interchange, scattering stacked and looped roadways like a dog leaping into a pile of freshly raked leaves. The artillery continued to pound the creature but caused as much damage as the Kaiju.
“I have reports of men trapped in the Clem Jones Tunnel.”
Kinder nodded that he had heard but said nothing. He could nothing for them now. The tunnel crossed beneath the Brisbane River and had been designated as a fallback site, but the weight of the Kaiju had been too much for the structure. Finally, he said, “If the tunnel doesn’t flood, they’ll be safe enough.” He sighed. “Take me to LZ Green. I can’t do anything more from here.”
Horath, eager to comply, scampered back to the jeep and cranked it. As they drove down Bartley’s Hill, Kinder had an excellent view of the giant Kaiju entering the city of Brisbane.
“God help them,” he whispered. “God help them all.”
24
Wednesday, Dec. 20, 0630 hours Inside Kaiju Kiribati –
Walker had begun to think all the Wasps and Squid had left the Kaiju. On one hand, he hoped they had not mounted an attack on the Mississippi, but he also did not want to face them in his condition. He had seen only a single Wasp in the past hour and strangely, it had not attacked him. It saw him, even acknowledged his presence with a loud hiss, but remained where it was. He was ready to kill it when he noticed its eyes. They were missing. A dark liquid dripped from the two open holes where its eyes had been. At first, he attributed its blindness to battle wounds, but then noticed its shriveled wings and general poor condition. The Wasp stood unsteadily on its wobbly legs for a few minutes longer, but then collapsed. It hissed a few more times before going silent. As he watched, its body began collapsing in on itself, as if being eaten from the inside. As fascinated as he was about how the Kaiju disposed of dead Wasps, he didn’t want to be around if the scavengers noticed him. He moved on.
By his reckoning, he was near the control center where on Nusku he, Costas, and Gate had tried to destroy the creature’s guidance systems by venting the liquid CO2 used to cool the electro-magnetic gyros. They had crawled through a narrow tunnel from the creature’s mouth. He was somewhere below it. If, he reminded himself, the aliens had not changed the interior design on this Kaiju.
He stood in a large chamber almost a hundred feet in length and forty-feet wide. The ceiling was low, less than ten feet high. The walls and ceiling were ebony crystal like the creature’s exterior. The floor was lighter in color but still composed of a hard substance. A lattice covered a six-foot-wide shaft in the middle of the chamber, reminding him uncomfortably of a shower drain. If the chamber was some kind of liquid storage tank, he hoped it didn’t fill before he found an exit.
He was still searching when the first Squid appeared. It had moved silently in the darkness. He had sensed rather than heard it, a prickly feeling crawling up his back. When he whirled and hit it with the beam of his flashlight, it stood somewhat stooped over in the low room, staring at him with its four unblinking eyes. He could not run away. His injured leg was barely supporting his weight, and he was weak from loss of blood. For several tense moments, neither of them moved. Then, it puffed out its gill pouches and began trilling, summoning other Squid to the scene. He raised his SCAR and fired three quick bursts into its head. The ebony crystal-tipped 7.62 mm bullets pierced the thick skin and shattered the fused-bone skeleton protecting its internal organs. Spurts of yellow blood and a second dark liquid sprayed from the bullet wounds. The Squid took a few awkward steps toward him on trembling tentacles, and then collapsed in a tangle of limbs and did not move.
The Squid had entered the chamber from an opening somewhere beyond the one through which he had entered. He chose to travel in the opposite direction. Fearing more Squid were on the way, he tried to pick up the pace, but each step sent excruciating pain racing up his leg to his hip and groin. The weight of the K-2 container added to his misery. He had tried to rewrap the bandage several times, but his boot kept pushing it away from the wound. Finally, he had sliced off the top of his boot, but by then his blood loss had been severe and the damage already done.
As he neared the far end of the chamber, he spotted an opening that led upward at an angle. It was barely wide enough to accommodate him, especially dragging the drum behind him, but he had seen no other exits. Suddenly, as if taunting him, the wall folded in around the opening, sealing it off. Moments later, the ceiling began secreting a liquid. The liquid formed at the surface of the ceiling as if it were a semi-permeable membrane, a type of osmotic filter. The liquid came down in sheets, forming pools on the floor that quickly became puddles. The drain had sealed at the same time as the opening in the wall.
A drop landed on his face. He cautiously tested it with his tongue. It tasted of salt and sea life. The clear liquid was seawater. He had stumbled into one of the Kaiju’s ballast tanks. When the water reached the top of his cut off boot and began to spill inside it, he began to worry. With no escape, he either would drown or be flushed out to sea when it vented the chamber. He dragged the drum behind him back toward the opening he had come through. By the time he reached it, the drum was floating free of the floor. It came as no surprise to find the air duct tunnel closed as well. Had the sealing of the chamber been an automatic sequence as the Kaiju submerged or surfaced, or had his killing of the Squid instigated it? His only remaining choice was the opening at the opposite end of the chamber through which the Squid had arrived.
Sloshing through the rising liquid was more exhausting than walking. His injured leg threatened to fold beneath him. He tried moving slower, but the liquid was rising too quickly to dawdle. As if things were not bad enough, he heard trills and hoots coming from ahead of him – Squid. The Squid, amphibious marine creatures, were at home in the water. Though the water was barely waist deep, they raced toward him leaving V-pattern wakes behind them. He raised his SCAR but knew he could not kill them all. Instead, he aimed at the black drum. His last act would be to release the K-2 nanites to do their job, praying the water would not dilute beyond the point of efficacy. Before he could pull the trigger, he heard a voice yell, “Heads up!”
The familiar sound of an M134 minigun and an M107 SASR echoed through the chamber. Muzzle flashes sparkled like fire flies in the dark. Twin beams of light settled on two of the Squid as bullets tore into their bodies. The two squid began thrashing in the water, their tentacles flailing in the air. The water around them darkened with their blood. Walker raised his SCAR and emptied his clip into the third Squid. It stopped ten yards from him, trying to rise from the water on its tentacles. Even dying, it stretched out one of its long tentacles toward the black drum. Walker backed away. The Squid hissed at him, and then died.
Costas and Talent came splashing toward him. Costas wore a big grin on his face. Talent, as usual kept his emotions in check, but Walker thought he detected a slight flicker in his lips.
“You ain’t dead,” Costas bellowed.
“Not quite. Where are the others?”
Costas cursed and scowled. “Captain McChicken flew the coop after you took your dive. Hightower wanted to stay, but I sent him packing to help with Perez. I didn’t trust the captain not to leave her behind. Now there’s a woman for you, Major. She’s hot, tough as nails, and ain’t afraid of nothing. You should ask her out.”
Walker smiled at Costas’ constant need to fix him up with a woman. He looked at Talent. “Sorry you came yet?”
“I’m a little concerned about the gravity bomb Costas told me about. That item was missing from the travel brochure. Otherwise, here’s as good as any other place.” He looked down at the water now swirling around his waist. “Well, not here exactly.”
“I was headed your direction searching for a way out.”
“Don’t bother,” Costas chimed in. “Nothing but Squid that direction. In fact, they should be joining the party any minute now.” He poi
nted toward the far wall. “Anything that way?”
“I saw a ramp just before the wall closed in around it.”
Costas grinned and waved his SASR. “I’ve got the perfect lock pick right here. Let’s go shoot up some shit.”
Costas forged ahead through the rising water, lifting the black K-2 drum from the water and tucking it under one arm. “Let’s go before this bastard flushes us out.”
Walker turned to Talent. “I couldn’t tell you about the bomb. It would have been a distraction.”
“So Costas said.” Talent shook his head. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m just along for the ride.”
“It’s been over four hours and the bomb hasn’t exploded yet. Maybe the Commander disarmed it. Nothing we can do about it anyway. If the Kaiju resumed its same speed and heading, it should be somewhere off the coast of Australia. That doesn’t leave us much time to detonate our bomb. I haven’t a clue as to how long it will take for the little nanite buggers to do some damage.”
“Yet you haven’t detonated it yet,” Talent observed. “That doesn’t sound like you. If you were waiting to give Costas and me a chance to get out, don’t bother. We both know none of us is getting out of this thing alive. We knew it coming in. Hell, I’m surprised we’ve made it this far.”
So was Walker. “We’re almost there.”
Talent laughed. “Says the man who’s about to be breathing sea water in a few minutes.”
Costas stopped at the wall, searching it for Walker’s opening. It had sealed so smoothly, Walker had trouble spotting it. Only a slight variation in the surface pattern revealed the elusive seam. “Stand back,” he warned, and then fired a burst at the wall. The bullets bounced off. “What the fu …?” He tried again with the same lack of results.
“Maybe this will help,” Talent said. He held out one of the grenades from the grenade launcher he had left behind. “I thought it might come in handy.” Then he frowned. “I’m not sure how we can use it. There’s no pin to pull.”
Walker shook his head. “Talent, you amaze me.”
He pulled his knife and jammed it into the tiny crack of the seam. It didn’t penetrate far, but it held. Using a bootlace, he took the Denel R1M1 anti-tank grenade from Talent and tied it to the handle of his knife. The RDX explosive was powerful enough to penetrate eleven inches of steel. He knew it wouldn’t penetrate the creature’s ebony armor, but all he needed was a little kick to force the wall open.
“Move down the wall and hug it tight,” he told them.
He joined them ten yards away. He would have liked to place more distance between them and the grenade, but the water was rising too fast. It would soon submerge the grenade. The others pressed their faces to the wall. He took careful aim, fired, and missed. Costas raised his head and glared at him. Angry with himself for missing, he fired again. This time the bullet struck the grenade’s tip. The explosion’s shock wave hit him and sent him sprawling into the water stunned. He felt Costas’ strong arms pulling him to the surface.
“Everyone okay?” he sputtered as he coughed water from his mouth and throat.
“What?” Costas yelled, digging into his left ear with his pinky finger. “My ears are ringing.” Then he grinned to show he was kidding.
Walker surveyed the damage. The blast had forced the wall open and water poured into the opening.
“After you,” Costas said to Talent. “I’ll follow along behind with the refreshments.” He held out the drum.
Talent rolled his eyes but went first through the opening, pushing the heavy minigun ahead of him. Walker went next. The slope was gentle, but traveling on his hands and knees was more painful than walking. His leg throbbed and his hip felt as if it were trying to push through his skin. He made better time lying on his belly and dragging himself forward with his elbows, like crawling through a live-fire obstacle course.
He was exhausted by the time they reached an equally narrow tunnel crossing the Kaiju transversely. He checked his wrist comp. To his relief, the tunnel was on his map. It ran adjacent to the Kaiju control center. They were almost there. He crawled along the space feeling the walls. Finally, he found what he was searching for.
“This is the spot.”
The spot Walker indicated looked like any other section of the wall “How do you know?” Talent asked.
“The wall is cold from the liquid Carbon Dioxide. The flesh here is not armored. Dig us a way in, Talent. I seem to have lost my knife.”
“And hurry, Cowboy,” Costas yelled from behind him. “I gotta take a piss.”
Talent began hacking into the alien flesh like he was carving a Jack ‘o Lantern, venting his fury and frustration with each savage blow. Soon, his hands and arms were slick with the thick fluid that served the creature for blood. Walker sat down to watch as he rested his leg. It was growing numb. He wished his hip were numb. It throbbed in pain with every beat of his heart. The climb up the ramp had taken all his strength. He was not sure if he could continue. Luckily, they had almost reached their destination. It would feel good to sit with his back against the cool wall and let the others finish the job for him. The Kaiju shuddered violently, sending shooting pain through his hip and leg. He noticed the hairs on his arm standing at attention from static electricity in the air.
“Someone’s trying to stop the Kaiju. Can you feel the power flowing through it as it channels the kinetic energy into its storage cell?”
“Maybe someone will make a lucky shot,” Costas growled. “I’m tired of this shit.”
Walker’s stomach growled. He realized he was hungry. “Do either of you have anything to eat?”
Costas dug in his pack and pulled out three protein bars. He handed one to each of the others. “I also keep little snack handy in case I get hungry during the night.”
Walker practically inhaled his bar, but it eased the growls in his stomach. Talent chewed his while he dug. When Talent slowed down, Costas took over. Three feet into the wall, he made one last thrust with the knife, and he was through to the other side. Once the gash was large enough for them, he pushed through.
“This don’t look familiar,” he said.
As Talent helped Walker to his feet, Walker, concerned, said, “Let’s see if I screwed up.”
Walker limped into the creature’s control room. As Costas had said, it was different from Nusku. Some things remained the same. The rows of rotating spheres floating in the gravity fields behind a crystal barrier were familiar. They served as the creature’s gyrocompass. He had chosen this location for that very reason. Releasing the nanites in the creature’s control center would disorient it, slowing its rampage long enough for the nanites to kill it. All similarity ended beyond the gyros.
Also behind the crystal wall sat a pale yellow gelatinous mass the size of a Volkswagen Beetle with a crevassed and convoluted surface, pulsating as fluids coursed through it. The mass took up most of the space of the chamber. Thick bundles of fiber ran from various thick, knobby nodes to various points in the wall. Hollow tubes through which coursed thick, yellow blood emerged from the floor and pierced the object in several places. Other tubes removed waste liquid and carried it away.
“It’s a friggin’ brain,” Costas said, his hands on his hips staring at it. “It really is pea brained. Them Nazir have a sense of humor.”
“Nazir?” Walker asked.
“I’ll explain later,” Talent said.
The Kaiju brain was tiny in comparison to its enormous size, like a dinosaur’s, but they, too, could think and make decisions, and they could be deadly dangerous. Not content to control the mindless Kaiju with their vulnerable communications links, the aliens had endowed this Kaiju with a will and a brain. It had purpose and the ability to think, or at least to react to its changing environment.
Talent raised the minigun. “Why don’t we just blow its brains out?”
“No wait,” Walker warned, but he was too late. Talent pressed the trigger. The barrels of the minigun spun, and a stream
of bullets struck the clear crystal. To their astonishment, the bullets bounced harmlessly off the crystal wall. They ducked as ricochets buzzed passed their heads.
“It’s bulletproof glass,” Costas growled. “Even the Kaiju shell-tipped bullets don’t scratch it. Those Nazir bastards are getting better.”
“So what do we do?” Talent asked. “The bomb won’t break this stuff. It’s as hard as the ebony armor.”
Walker sighed heavily, feeling as if fate was determined to beat him at every turn. Had he gambled away their lives for nothing? Had his stubbornness at insisting on doing things his way rather than follow orders blown the mission? The others looked at him, waiting for an answer.
“The walls outside the barrier are flesh. We detonate the bomb here. The nanites will work their way through the bloodstream and enter the brain. It’s not ideal,” he admitted as he saw their skepticism, “but it will have to do.”
“Will it kill the Kaiju?” Talent asked.
“If Allah wills it,” Walker answered.
Talent smiled. “Maybe you’d better put in a good word for me next time you talk to him.”
“I don’t think we’ll have time.” He pointed to the drum. It reminded him of the baby nuke they had transported inside Nusku. “Fast or slow?” he asked
“Quick,” Costas answered at the same time as Talent’s, “Fast.”
Walker was glad that his companions were of the same mind as him. “I think the Kaiju is walking. The motion feels like it’s walking instead of moving through the water. If it’s on land, it must have reached Australia by now. Every minute we delay costs countless lives. I’m setting the timer for its minimum setting – five minutes. We’re going to die when the nanites reach us anyway. I prefer a quick end rather than a slow, agonizing death from the K-2. However, the decision is easy for me; I can’t go anywhere anyway. My leg is useless. You two have time to place as much distance between you and the bomb as you can.” He looked at Talent and smiled. “Maybe your luck will hold.”