Godzilla Returns

by Marc Cerasini

  Lieutenant Takado paused again, giving them more time to absorb the information. Then she clicked the control in her hand. A new image appeared. This one showed Godzilla crashing through the Diet - the Japanese parliamentary building - in 1954.

  "Godzilla last entered a populated area - Tokyo, Japan - on November 3, 1954. On that night and the next, 179,000 people were killed. Another 30,000 were injured. Some people sustained radiation burns on much of their bodies. Godzilla's initial attack was followed by an outbreak of radiation sickness.

  "The creature destroyed the Japanese seat of government and much of the capital city. He leveled buildings and crushed whole industries. Landmarks and shrines that were hundreds of years old were destroyed in a single night. The damage was in the hundreds of billions of yen. It took nearly a decade to rebuild the city... and so much more was lost for all time."

  Lieutenant Takado began clicking the remote rapidly. A succession of images flashed across the screen, and then disappeared: black-and-white photographs of buildings in ruins, whole city blocks burning, hundreds of injured people choking hospital hallways and parks and sidewalks.

  And then there were the pictures of the dead. Thousands of them. Bodies lining streets. Lying under shrouds. And sprawling where they fell. Burned. Crushed. Torn asunder.

  Brian gulped and averted his eyes. Nick whistled softly. Yoshi turned pale. May looked sick.

  "Godzilla is more destructive than the hydrogen bomb that gave him life," Lieutenant Takado said. "If the creature comes to land, there is no telling how much damage he will cause. Or how many people he will kill and injure."

  * * *

  "We'll be landing in five minutes," one of the helicopter crewmen shouted over the noise of the engine. Nick, who had his head buried between his knees, looked up. A relieved expression appeared on his pallid face. Yoshi nodded, his thoughts unreadable, as usual.

  Brian turned and peered out of the tiny window. All he could see was dark water far below. But, as the crewman predicted, the Sea Dragon's wheels touched the brightly lit deck of a small ship five minutes later. As the rotors wound down, the door on the side of the helicopter slid open. Admiral Maxwell Willis stood on the deck to greet them.

  "Permission to come aboard, sir," Lieutenant Takado said, saluting smartly.

  "Permission granted," the admiral replied, returning her salute. Then he stood aside. "Welcome to the Kongo-Maru," he cried over the sound of the choppers engine.

  The Kongo-Maru, Brian thought, recalling the briefing that morning. According to Lieutenant Takado, the ship was a hastily built miracle, a specially constructed and fully outfitted research vessel designed to study and record any and all data on the creature called Godzilla.

  The name itself was significant. Maru, of course, simply meant "ship," the word was attached to almost all Japanese seagoing vessels. The word kongo had more meaning. The kongo was a legendary trident-shaped staff of knowledge from Japanese mythology. The kongo brought mankind wisdom and insight and pierced the darkness of ignorance.

  And so this ship was created to shed light on the mystery that is Godzilla. Brian recalled Lieutenant Takado's earlier comment. She'd explained that the Kongo-Maru started life as a Pegasus-class combat patrol hydrofoil in the service of the U.S. Navy. The vessel was chosen because of its incredible speed - almost fifty knots when foil borne - and its amazing maneuverability.

  The 145-foot hull was gutted from stem to stern for the purposes of its new mission. All weapons systems and defensive armaments were removed and replaced with dozens of monitoring devices.

  Radiation detectors, microwave transmitters and receivers, radar, sonar - even sophisticated MRI imaging systems - were all retrofitted into the hydrofoil hull. Then a whole new superstructure was built over it. The size of the bridge was tripled to fit all the sophisticated instrumentation.

  Much of the work had been done in the last two weeks. When Brian stepped off the chopper, he could see men still busily working in the rigging towers, on satellite dishes, and near the many antennas that stuck out of the ship's superstructure like porcupine needles.

  As Brian, Nick, Yoshi, and Lieutenant Takado followed Admiral Willis onto the superstructure, the Sea Dragon - freed of its passengers - lifted into the air and flew off into the night. Crewmen immediately began folding up the collapsible helipad.

  Brian was stunned by how cramped the Kongo-Maru really was. When the group stepped onto an extremely narrow walkway, he searched the bow of the ship. He wanted to get a glimpse of the boldest device on the Kongo-Maru, and potentially the most dangerous piece of equipment to use.

  Brian wanted to see the harpoon.

  "The bow of the ship is fitted with a hydraulic harpoon gun," Lieutenant Takado had told them earlier that day. "The harpoon itself is really an army of monitoring devices. lf we can get close enough, the harpoon will be fired into Godzilla's flesh. For as long as the harpoon is connected to the ship by its fiber-optic cable, we will be able to take readings of Godzilla's vital signs.

  "If the attack fails, then we must use the harpoon, or all our efforts will be wasted."

  "What's the effective range of the harpoon gun?" Nick had asked. Brian recalled that Lieutenant Takado ignored that question. And he nervously concluded they'd have to get really close to use it.

  Admiral Willis led the group through a steel door into the ship's interior. Then he excused himself.

  "I've got to help calibrate some of the instruments," the admiral told them. "Lieutenant Takado'll show y'all to your quarters." The admiral also suggested they visit the lounge at their first opportunity.

  "We have satellite feeds coming in from all over the world," he told them. "Since y'all are news-hounds, you might want to watch some television and gauge the rest of the world's reaction to the return of Godzilla."

  Brian already knew some of that reaction.

  The prime minister of Japan had yesterday issued a statement to the world. It read, in part: "Godzilla has already taken human lives. This creature is a danger, not only to Japan, but to every nation in the world. I call upon the United Nations to do their part to help in this international emergency..."

  The United Nations did their part, all right, Brian thought bitterly. They argued, and they're still arguing.

  Lieutenant Takado led them down a ladder to the bowels of the ship. They walked through narrow corridors until they came to a hallway lined with doors. She opened a small door to reveal a tiny room with three bunks, one on top of the other. The room hardly bigger than Brian's closet back at INN headquarters.

  "I got dibs on the top bunk!" Nick announced, grinning.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Brian led Nick and Yoshi back to where he thought the lounge was. They missed only one turn. Soon they found the small room. The lounge had a microwave oven and small galley. It was also equipped with four televisions, one mounted near the ceiling in each of the corners of the room.

  One television was tuned to C-SPAN. It showed live footage of the debate going in the United States Senate. A second television showed the United Nations General Assembly - still in session after twelve hours. The third screen showed the Japanese Diet - also in session after many hours.

  A fourth TV was tuned to INN. Brian was certain this was a polite gesture for their benefit. Max Hulse was droning on about the defensive measures the Japanese Navy would employ against Godzilla.

  Nick found a remote control and switched channels on the fourth screen. It showed a patch of water, lit redly by infrared scopes. The picture was jerky, but at the center of the screen, Godzilla was clearly visible. The creature was walking on the bottom of the Sea of Japan - only his head and neck projected from the water.

  "That's a live feed from one of the patrol ships pacing Godzilla," Lieutenant Takado said, entering the room. She went over to the galley and poured a cup of green tea. "Would you like some?" she asked politely.

  "Domo," Yoshi said with a smile.

  Soon everyone
had taken a seat around the table. They sipped tea and watched the monitors. Occasionally, Nick would change the sound - turning down the volume on one TV, and turning up another.

  "The governments of Iran, Iraq, Libya, and Syria have just issued a joint statement," the CNN anchorwoman said somberly. "It reads in part: Godzilla is a Sword of Allah. It is a weapon to punish the decadent western democracies and the people of Japan. Any aggression against Godzilla will be considered an act of terrorism against the nations of Islam.

  "In other news, the North Korean delegation has walked out of UN talks. They object to U.S. warships sailing close to their shores.

  "Meanwhile, a spokesman for Greenpeace demanded that the creature called Godzilla be designated an endangered species and protected under international environmental protection laws similar to those enacted to save the whales -"

  "The world has forgotten the horrors of the past!" Yoshi suddenly shouted, his fist crashing on the table.

  Brian was shocked by the Japanese youth's emotional outburst. As long as he'd known him, Yoshi had been quiet and reserved. He wasn't the excitable type.

  "Whoa, Yoshi!" Nick cried. "Calm down, man."

  "People today are crazy," Yoshi continued "They are so... so ignorant!"

  "They do fiddle while Rome burns," Nick agreed. "But people have always been that way."

  "Have they?" Admiral Willis said as he entered the room.

  Lieutenant Takado jumped to attention.

  Admiral Willis waved her back to her chair. "We'll have no more of that, Lieutenant," he said with a drawl. "For the duration of this crisis, I'm your commanding officer, but all this salutin's gotta go."

  There was an obvious twinkle in Uncle Maxwell's eyes, but only Brian could see it.

  "Yes, sir," Lieutenant Takado said, still standing at attention. Brian smiled. Obviously, she wasn't accustomed to the laid-back style of the Texas military man.

  "I guess you've been watching television," the admiral said with a sigh. "The United Nations seems to be paralyzed - as usual. But the political aspect of the current crisis no longer concerns us. We've run out of time."

  He scanned their faces. "Godzilla is changing direction and beginning to head for land. If he continues on his present course, he will come ashore on the main island of Honshu - perhaps near the city of Hamada..."

  Yoshi gasped. Lieutenant Takado's face remained rigid, but her jaws tensed.

  "The Russians, the Chinese, the British, and even the French are with us," the admiral continued. "At dawn, United States Air Force F-15 Strike Eagles from Osan Air Force Base in Korea will attack Godzilla from the air. This attack will be followed with an assault by warships of the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force. In short, tomorrow we hit Godzilla with everything we've got. And may God help us all."

  Nick whistled. Yoshi smiled triumphantly. Brian felt a little sick. Maybe I just don't have my sea legs yet, he told himself.

  The admiral scanned the faces in the room.

  "Get your sleep," he ordered them sternly. "Tomorrow is your baptism by fire..."

  CHAPTER 11

  INTO THE FIRE!

  May 31, 1998, 4:05 A.M.

  Osan Air Force Base, South Korea

  Captain Paul "the Gipper" Reagan - no relation to the former president of the United States - eased back on the throttle of his F-15E Strike Eagle. The twin-engine fighter/bomber was fast and sleek in the air, but down on the tarmac it almost seemed to waddle. The smart bombs that hung from both wings, and the huge fuel tanks, which were filled to capacity, weighted the aircraft down.

  It was a bumpy ride as Captain Reagan slid in behind the next aircraft on the flight line. Easing the throttle back even farther, he "parked" his aircraft behind the two in front of him.

  "How does everything check?" he asked his weapons systems officer, who sat in the cockpit behind him.

  "Just fine, captain," Captain Jennifer "Doris" Day said into the microphone. "The link to the global positioning system is up and running, so I know where we're going. Weapons systems are a go."

  Just then a familiar voice crackled into his earphones.

  "Nice rudder, Doris!" Captain Jackson "T-Bone" Boudreau said from Stalker Four, the aircraft that eased into position behind them. Captain Reagan couldn't help but snicker.

  "Yeah, Stalker Three," Boudreau's backseater, Juan "Tony" Orlando, chimed in. "That's a real nice rudder."

  Captain Reagan heard his backseater sigh. "Adolescents!" she said. "Stop looking up my after-burners!"

  Captain Day was one the first female weapons systems officers - or wizzos - in the squadron. As with any "new guy," she took a lot of ribbing - especially from Captain Boudreau, a Cajun from the bayou country of Louisiana. There were women at Osan, but most of them were pilots or technicians.

  Captain Day was different. She liked to shoot - guns, bows and arrows, pool, you name it. She was particularly good at shooting smart bombs and missiles. That was why Captain Reagan's aircraft had been chosen to fly Stalker Three, and lead the second wave of the attack on Godzilla - right after Stalkers One and Two "softened up" the target.

  A voice from the tower broke into their banter. The flight controller ordered them to "cut the chatter."

  Captain Reagan began his third pre-flight check, just to be on the safe side.

  While he worked, Reagan thought about the upcoming mission. Fighting monsters is a lot different from fighting Iraqis, the captain mused. It's nothing like the Gulf War. No anti-aircraft, no fighter threat, no radar to tip the enemy off. This ought to be a milk run - but you never know.

  He recalled how he felt that night, hack in 1990, when he was a rookie waiting to take off for his first combat mission over Baghdad.

  "How do you feel, Doris?" he asked his backseater.

  "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous," she confessed. "But I know I can do the job."

  I know you can, too, Reagan thought. Or I wouldn't go up with you.

  "Speaking of which," Captain Day continued, "I'll make you a wager!"

  "Oh," he replied. "And what would that be?"

  "I'll bet you that I can hit Godzilla right in the heart - with both smart bombs!" she stated with confidence.

  "Just what'll you bet?" he asked.

  She thought about it for a second. "If I miss the big lizard's heart, I'll do maintenance paperwork for a month."

  "Whooo!" Captain Reagan whistled. "And what if you don't miss?"

  "If I don't miss, you let me land this plane when we get back!"

  Captain Reagan sighed. Why do all backseaters want to be pilots? he asked himself. "All right," he agreed finally. "But it's against regulations."

  "Hey," she replied confidentially. "If I take down Godzilla, they'll wave medals in our faces when we land, not regulations."

  Just then the tower came on-line again. "Stalker Flight, prepare for takeoff," the voice on the radio commanded.

  * * *

  Brian Shimura sweated in his tiny bunk aboard the Kongo-Maru. He turned over with a moan and threw the sheets off his body.

  It's hot in here, he thought. Then he thought about it again. No, it isn't... I'm scared.

  The revelation depressed him. Rationally, he knew he had a right to be scared. After all, I'm nineteen years old, I'm only a student intern, and I'm going into a sea battle with a monster. Who wouldn't be scared? he argued with himself.

  But neither Yoshi nor Nick seemed afraid, he noticed. Nick was snoring away on the top bunk, and Yoshi seemed exhilarated by the whole thing. But Yoshi's the kind of guy who wants to go to Bosnia and shoot combat footage, Brian thought bitterly.

  Why am I so afraid? he asked himself for the hundredth time. I'm not a coward - I've surfed, skied, bungee-jumped, and even went skydiving once. It was fun. Why is this so different?

  Maybe became the whole thing is so... primal. Hunting for some freak of nature, a giant beast that could kill us all. The thought made Brian feel like some caveman, on the hunt for a dinosaur, like in that
movie where Raquel Welch wore a fur loincloth.

  Maybe that's it! he reasoned. Maybe it's such a primitive, basic fear, a fear of natural terrors that still lives at the core of all of our beings.

  It's man against nature, that's what it is. But suddenly, Brian felt a chill wash over him. He shivered and pulled the sheets back over himself.

  Nature almost always wins, he thought glumly. Nature - in the guise of a bad heart - even beat my mother. And, at that moment, he realized that there was another reason why he was so afraid. Brian had watched his mother die, and he'd learned what death really was.

  * * *

  When Nick, Yoshi, and Brian came on deck that morning, they were surprised by the vision that awaited them. Somehow, overnight, the Kongo-Maru had become surrounded by warships. Two destroyers, four frigates, and an array of support vessels steamed through the waves on either side of them. It was an impressive armada.

  The day was clear and cloudless, the weather cool, and the Sea of Japan was mostly calm. with only a light chop.

  When they reached the ship's bridge, Admiral Willis greeted them. Lieutenant Takado was there, wearing a combat uniform this time. Dr. Nobeyama was present, too. It was the first time any of them had seen the older man aboard the Kongo-Maru.

  The bridge was impressive. Windows lined the front, but on either side were huge television screens feeding live pictures of the action from a dozen remote cameras. Other instruments lined the walls. Many men in white lab coats manned these monitors.

  "Good morning," Admiral Willis greeted them. "Did you all have breakfast?"

  They nodded their heads politely, but in truth, they had all been too nervous to eat. Nick claimed he felt seasick. Yoshi said he wanted an empty stomach to "keep the fear up." But Brian knew it was just nervousness on all of their parts.

  The admiral turned and faced the monitors again. "The F-15s are about ten minutes from the target," he said. The admiral pointed out the window.

  Far ahead of them, visible in the clear atmosphere, Godzilla waded across the Sea of Japan. Even at this distance, more than three miles, he was majestic. The waves lapped at his belly and upper thighs, but the rest of him was fully exposed. The monster seemed oblivious to the ships that stalked him and the helicopters that buzzed around him.