by Alan Spencer
The two of them didn't waste time. They knew Globo Corps had cities built, property sold, and people already here on Second Earth. They had to find those people.
Ram searched the emergency vehicle and found no food or water. Survival supplies were zero. After having enough time without something trying to kill them, they realized how depleted their bodies were.
Ram guided Buffy down the stream. That was the plan. Follow the stream and keep their eyes open.
The sun was blazing hot in the sky. The humidity was a sticky net slowing their progress. Deer stalked the woods. Blue birds, cardinals, robins, and a few hawks flew between trees. Squirrels were rummaging through dead piles of leaves. The wildlife didn't appear to be mutated or man-eating.
They kept a good pace for many hours. The sun was starting to go down. The backdrop was a red purple blaze. They arrived at a cliff's edge. The view went on for miles. The horizon was clear. What they saw was breathtaking.
The cityscape was tall glass skyscrapers for buildings. Buildings of the future, Ram thought, with smooth highways, cars driving without emitting fumes, and people dressed in high end clothing. They were shopping in fancy strip malls and enjoying their lives without a care in the world.
Ram saw the giant sign outside the tall gated perimeter of the city read: GLOBO CORPS. HERE IS THE FUTURE.
He took Buffy's hand and held it tight.
"You up for this?"
"What choice do we have? This is it. Literally. There's nowhere else to go. This is the future."
"The future," Ram repeated. "I guess we'll see if there's a place here for us."
Together, the two journeyed towards the city, and whatever it had to throw at them.
"Hey, Buffy."
"Yeah?"
"You still going to own up to your promise?"
"What was that?"
"If Globo Corps is out of control, we're going to take them down."
Buffy's eyes were exacting.
"Everyone of those evil fuckers will pay for what they did to those innocent people on The Redeemer."
Ram gave Buffy a high-five.
"Fucking a!"
Epilogue
Twenty miles from where Ram and Buffy's emergency ship landed, another emergency ship had touched down. When the exit door opened, the passenger immediately ran for the stream.
Fresh water! Yes. I was about to dry up in that ship. I'm built tough, but not that tough.
The shark man stayed near the bottom of the three-foot deep stream. He used his arm fins to stay in place. What he was seeing was magnificent.
Fish of many colors swam in these waters. Blue, red, and brown fish darted through the waters. He didn't want to eat them, because human flesh was much tastier. Besides, these fish were beautiful pieces of creations. He had a new appreciation for their beauty. Having come so close to dying, he cherished life. He was the last of his kind. The preservation of his species was what mattered. Mating and procreating.
That's what the sharks on the ship were doing. They were fighting extinction, just like the human passengers.
He knew Ram and Buffy were heading towards a populated area. They had survived, and so had he.
Pathfinder 3000 had let go of his neck a moment too soon. He passed out from strangulation, but he did not die. He remembered waking up in the security room alone and confused, and surrounded by sharks! The room was full of that strange pink gas. He had no choice but to breathe it in.
That was all in the past.
This was now.
Ernie Pine swam up the stream and opened up his gills and let the pink gas flow.
When he was done securing the future of his species, he would next see about getting a bite to eat.
Read on for a free sample of Battle Whale
Launch Day
Green World spared no expense building the ultimate weapon. When it comes to environmentalists, we're the cream of the crop, and we've got a mega-sized blue whale to prove it! Can you picture six-hundred short tons of beauty lunging at you with rockets thrusting, machine gun turrets blazing, and heat-seeking missiles set to kill? I sure can, because it's right in front of me. That'll teach the evil ones who perpetrate evil against nature. You can't talk people down from their wicked ways. You can't assign legislature to protect our beautiful animal creatures. We can't trust things will just get better on their own. Doing the right thing isn't as easy as promoting morality.
So where does that leave the people who really do care?
The answer?
Battle Whale.
Nobody can hold us back from our aspirations. Green World is an organized, well-funded, highly educated, super environmentalist group. We've pooled our resources over many years to get the job done. We can't wait to see our whale at work.
It's almost time.
I can't stop shaking.
I'm so excited for this moment.
You see that oil drilling rig on the Pacific Ocean? It looks like the real thing, but guess what? It's a decoy. We're inside of it, conducting our work. Battle Whale will shake the world to its core. No more animals will be harmed, ever, after our plan takes effect. Humans will fear the animals. It's the way it has to be. We'll finally achieve that delicate balance of power. Whether our wonderful animals reside in the oceans, the jungles, the cities, society will leave nature as God intended—the fuck alone! The world will hear our voice, even if we have to blow their guts out to do so. Sacrifices on both sides of the coin, animal and human, will have to be made, but it's for the greater good of the future.
Green World is the future.
The anticipation is really starting to set in. I'm pacing and my heart's pumping like crazy. Good thing I've been taking medication for my ticker or I might just keel over.
Battle Whale is scheduled to attack in two minutes and counting. Go ahead and kiss the illegal whaling industry goodbye. That's just the humble beginning of the plan.
The first strike.
You want to throw harpoon grenades at our ocean's beautiful creatures? You want to steal the ocean's beauty for its blubber? Then we've got something real special for you. Stupid bastards are going to pay with their blood.
Two minutes and counting.
Yes, yes, yes, yes.
That gives me barely enough time to really reflect on our accomplishments before the big moment. This project has been in the running for six years. Private investors have spent billions to make this happen. These are the people who truly champion the cause. They know buying organic, shopping at Whole Foods, and recycling isn't enough to really change things.
The International Whaling Commission claims to have curbed illegal whaling, but the whale populations keep decreasing. You can't always trust what you're being told. Facts and figures can be altered to benefit those in power.
Battle Whale will show them what's right and plow through their deceptions.
Currently, I'm standing here among my fellows in celebration. We've surrounded the giant aquarium where our Battle Whale awaits deployment. Corks are popping. Wine flutes are overflowing with bubbly. Fists are pumping. Jovial conversations are spreading. Kisses and hugs and fond memories are being shared. This is it!
For me, the celebration is the whale itself. I'm a marine biologist. I can't help but watch that special whale float in its enclosure and marvel. The blue whale is a beautiful creature on its own terms. The whale is massive grayish-white beast. Most of its bulk is in the front of its body, while at the back, the body gets sleeker towards the tail. I'm just a speck up against its enormity. I'm nothing.
Our Battle Whale is almost unrecognizable in its current form. Steel covers over seventy percent of its body. Circuitry, wires, satellite uplinks (this baby is plugged in!), armor, hardcore thrusting engines, and fold-out wings, our whale has been crafted with scientific, aeronautic, avian, naval, wireless, and defensive precision.
Under that armor are reserves of supplies. Rocket-guided missiles by the hundreds. Bullets big enough to load giant
cannons; bullets large enough to turn humans into vapor. Liquid napalm to burn entire cities. Nitrous oxide to fuel many high-speed travels. Sulfuric acid to melt enemy vessels. Mortar shells. Giant harpoons with explosive tips. Concentrated batteries the size of cars. This whale is equipped for a variety wide-scale attacks.
Everybody has had their hands in this endeavor. I tended to the whale's basic needs like feeding, habitat upkeep, and general welfare. Others were heavier cogs in the machine. Ballistics experts. Mechanical and structural engineers. Fiber-optics specialists. NASA scientists. Blacksmiths, metallurgists, computer programmers, weapons specialists, the list goes on and on. Hundreds of brave volunteers joined up with Green World to make this happen.
The world won't stop harming animals and that's the bottom line. It's up to somebody to stand up for what's right. What's more symbolic than an actual animal standing up for its own rights?
If this test run goes off without a hitch, we won't stop at whales. Every species, every phylum, kingdom, and genus of animal will rise up and stand up to humanity until peace is the end result. We will equip every animal to protect itself. Finally, this will be a fair right.
Thirty seconds and counting.
Okay, I'll indulge in some sparkling champagne. Why not? We're overworked, exhausted, and very determined to see this project into fruition.
Twenty seconds and counting.
All eyes are on the digital clock beside the giant whale tank. Many are counting down out loud. I keep watching without saying a word. I'm amazed at what we've accomplished. This event will propel us into a new future.
Red and green lights flash along Battle Whale's steel armor. Engines from head to tail are raging with pistons and power. The water in the tank is spilling over the top in crazy tidal waves. The whale's beady black eyes now glow an ultraviolet red.
Five seconds.
Four seconds.
Three seconds.
Two seconds.
Engaged!
The bottom of the tank opens. Battle Whale drops down from the tall-standing oil rig platform and splashes into the ocean. Nitrous is burning and the Battle Whale is a streak of motion underwater, traveling at one hundred and twenty miles an hour and increasing speed.
The whale's cries rage across the ocean, the pitch reaching over 80 Hz frequency and still rising. The whale's piercing calls draw fear and awe into the other ocean dwellers. From everybody on the rig, this inspires reverence.
Now the satellite uplink station hidden in the United States has control over Battle Whale via remote signal. It's up to them to complete the job successfully.
The rest of the project is out of our hands.
Everybody's celebrating the successful launch. I notice Rhonda Geason, my blonde assistant, is giving me the "come hither" look. Sex is gleaming in her eyes, and I for one, am ready for a little loving between the sheets. I might be old, but my dick sure still works. I bring Rhonda in for a kiss, and—
Blast 'Em!
The battle whale had cleared two hundred miles from the drop sight before the military descended upon Green World's ocean base like a merciless fury. Helicopters unloaded armed officers onto the base. They repelled from ropes, invading the tall-standing steel pillar made to look like an oil rig.
Four-star General Sam Hudson laughed from his chopper view as his boys reduced the dangerous hippies into shredded cabbage with their guns. Hudson could smoke cigars and watch his team in action all day and never get bored. The Green World terrorists, as Hudson labeled them, were nothing against his forces.
Blood, bodies, and smoking guns.
All in a day's work.
And God love it.
Ten minutes later, Hudson received the go ahead to touch down on the base and conduct his investigation. The general was very curious about what Green World was perpetrating out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
General Hudson was stepping over still-bleeding corpses as he scouted the long steel platform for information. There was nothing of interest here, except for plenty of dead assholes. Inside the base was another story altogether. The smell of heavy smoke weighed heavily on the air. Raging fires were being put out by officers all across the three levels.
"Bastards were trying to destroy evidence," the general said to a representative of the FBI, a tight-assed, to-the-point suit named Chris Blevins. "Once they saw us coming, they tried to cover up everything. This was a well-oiled machine. I still want to know the point of this tower."
Blevins surveyed the area. He didn't respond. Blevins pointed at the giant steel tank across from where they stood. "Anything inside that?"
The general followed Blevins up the stairs to the next level. They stared down into the tank. There was no bottom. They could see down into the ocean.
"Whatever was in here, it's gone now," the general said. "Any idea what it was?"
Blevins stooped down, blew on the edge of a clipboard that was still burning, and put out the fire. He pointed at the drawing of a giant whale.
"It's a blue whale, General."
"What the heck were they doing here out in the middle of the ocean with a whale?"
Before General Hudson could attempt a guess, officers were reporting about what they found scattered throughout the rig. The consensus: everything informative was burned black.
Blevins sighed. "Looks like there's no answers here. We're too late. Our Intel was on the money, but late, as usual. Looks like I'll have to go back to the bureau and come up with a new plan."
General Hudson wasn't sure what to make of the FBI agent. He was a skinny prick with a rod shoved up his ass and he worked as if the general wasn't even there. Screw it, Hudson thought, him and his boys had done their job. The next move was up to some up other schmuck with a higher pay grade and more monkeys on their back.
Blevins stayed behind. The general re-boarded his chopper. A new chopper had just landed. The transport was full of FBI men dressed in suits and another set were wearing Hazmat uniforms. The general knew they were identifying the corpses of Green World. There was a lot of red tape to cut and Hudson was grateful he wasn't the one lugging around the heavy scissors.
My job's done here.
Every drop of blood has been spilled that needed to be.
Enough said.
When the chopper was posed above the platform, Hudson could see Blevins instructing his staff with a new verve he hadn't seen in the man up to this point.
The general couldn't help but ask himself that insane question again, Just what in the hell was Green World doing with a whale?
Ocean Assault
Battle Whale had them in its sights. Using its long-range viewfinder sensors, it locked onto a fleet of Nordic whaling ships scattered about in a semi-circle formation. The ships themselves were at work collecting the afternoon's take. Cannons and harpoon grenades had made short work of a collection of whales. The men were working on lugging the whale corpses up into their vessels. They didn't see the threat coming, until it was too late.
The whale's eyes burned a brighter shade of red. Rising up from the ice-cold Antarctic waters and bursting up like a cannon ball, steel wings unfolded at both sides of its body and held strong. Rocket thrusters under those wings unleashed giant balls of flames and propelled the mass over the whaling fleet.
Whalers cried out in terror as the beast's shadow eclipsed the now ants up against this berg of power. Battle Whale was a machine of sleek grace, flying high enough to drop bombs from its wing turrets. Nail bombs, incendiary bombs, and grapeshot-inspired explosions reduced ship and crew into smoking smithereens. Explosions tore the fleets asunder, changing the ocean into a fiery spectacle of death.
The whalers who abandoned ship before the bombs dropped suffered the worst fate. Steel nozzles extended from the whale's lower torso and unleashed a shower of liquid napalm. Shrieks split the cold gray skies as skin sizzled, boiled, and evaporated from bones. The victims' skeletons floated like charcoal-black buoys.
Before Battle Wha
le plunged back into the ocean, those on the mainland could hear the whale's high-pitched songs of pleasure rip through the barren cold skies.
Toji Maru understood deadlines were deadlines. Japan's whaling industry was a highly lucrative and highly illegal trade. There were strict regulations on how many whales could be killed in a specific period of time. Toji could tell you what to do with those regulations, and how far they could be lodged up one's rectal cavity. Money was the name of the game, and Toji played it to maximum profit.
Factory ships were loading up dead whales onto their boats via conveyor belts beneath their ships. Toji's team was efficient. The key was speed. If they could mine the fruits of the sea and pay off the right people to look the other way, Toji and his company were in for a big pay day. Whale meat, blubber, cosmetics, it was all cash. Fin whales. Sperm whales. Hunchback whales. Mink whales. Sei whales.
Toji pictured fat stacks of cash piling and piling.
As long as there was gold in the sea, he would be there to mine it.
Toji shouted orders into his radio at the factory ships to bust more ass. Today, his team wasn't as effective as normal. People were people and sometimes you couldn't make them work hard. Toji was about to chew into another ship captain because of his lackadaisical progress when the ship to his right was lifted up and seemingly thrown into the air. Wooden beams shattered, engines burst, and the ship was turned into fodder mid-air. What touched down among the wreckage was something he couldn't describe.
A flash of steel. Green and red lights. Demon eyes. Cannons blazing. Five thousand bullets were unloaded into Toji's fleet of thirteen whaling ships instantaneously. He literally saw some of his best men dismembered by impossibly huge bullets. They were like grenades rendering arms, legs, heads, and guts into chewed up mess.
Toji's ship was the last vessel remaining intact. The enormous hunk of steel was posed in front of his ship. The longer he stared, Toji realized the mass was actually the head of a blue whale. It wore a strange steel crown. Its red eyes seemed to seer into Toji and reach into the very core of his soul. A sharp whinnying cry ripped across the ocean with such power, Toji thought it was from supersonic speakers. Both of Toji's ear drums burst. He landed on his knees, crying out in pain. From between the whale's eyes a steel device unfolded. It was a long and thin nozzle of a cannon. The cannon's tip pressed against Toji's chest. The last thing he heard was the whale's taunting, insane song before a trigger was engaged.