Project Hyperion

by Jeremy Robinson

  I toggle my headset, which is patched into Devine, but currently transmitting only between us and the Crow’s Nest. “Do we have eyes on the target?”

  Cooper responds, calm and collected. “Forty miles out. Trajectory now has it headed toward Boston.”

  The city has spent the past three years rebuilding. Hundreds of years of history were lost in Nemesis’s assault on the city, but the country rallied around its rebuilding, just as they had for Washington, D.C. and the West Coast cities that were destroyed a year ago. To let Boston get decimated again, just as it’s picking itself back up in good ol’ Yankee fashion would be a crushing blow to the country’s morale. To the world’s.

  “What’s our ETA?” I ask Woodstock.

  “Between our speed and its,” he says, chewing on his bottom lip. “Ten minutes, give or take.”

  “Get us above the action,” I tell him. “Cooper, I want the Navy to torpedo the crap out of this thing in ten minutes. Drive it to the surface. Then the Navy and Air Force can unleash hell in unison. But...tell them that in a more official sounding way.”

  “Always do,” she says. “What if it’s like Nemesis? The orange membranes?”

  “We’ll be far enough from the coast,” I say. “Doesn’t matter what it looks like, or if it will explode with nuclear force. We need to stop it before it reaches the coast.”

  “Should we consider nuclear options?” she asks, still calm. It’s the one thing we haven’t really tried, in part because it would cost human lives, but also because Nemesis survives detonations of that magnitude, sans the radiation, on a regular basis. With such a high price tag, and no evidence to support its effectiveness, that option has remained off the table. And I’m not about to be the one to put it on the table. I have no illusions going into this fight. If this creature is anything like Nemesis, we’re not going to kill it now, nuke or not. We are going to hit it with the equivalent force of several nukes, but the best I’m hoping for is to deter the thing. Turn it around. Give us time to regroup. Because so far, the only way to kill a Kaiju, is with another Kaiju. And Nemesis hasn’t been seen in a long time.

  “No. I want MOABs in the air, though,” I tell Cooper. “Ask them to drop a few on its head...if it has one.”

  “Better keep your distance,” she says.

  “I’ll take us up to fifteen thousand,” Woodstock says. “Should be plenty of wiggle room.”

  The minutes tick as we rise high above the Atlantic, the monotonous chop of the helicopter broken up by status reports. Two Ohio class nuclear submarines are giving chase. If we wanted the nuclear option, they’d provide it. A third Virginia class fast-attack submarine stands between the monster and Boston. The subs will kick things off by launching an array of Mark 48 torpedoes designed for sinking other subs. Once the creature hits the surface, they’ll follow up the torpedoes with cruise missiles. They’re joined by two Zumwalt class destroyers. The ship’s stealthy build won’t help it against a Kaiju, but distance will. They’ll be miles away when they launch Tomahawk missiles. And all of that will be joined by the most advanced aircraft from the U.S. Navy and Air Force: five brand new F-35s and five F-22 Raptors, not to mention a B-2 bomber carrying more than a few MOABs. While the Mother Of All Bombs didn’t stop Nemesis in Boston, and very nearly killed me, it’s the biggest non-nuclear option we have. It’s the biggest boom we can make without the threat of fallout peppering the already battered New England coast.

  This all feels like déjà vu. We’ve been down this conventional warfare road before, and we got nothing for it. But until the slightly less conventional Swarm arrives, we’re stuck with weapons that blow up.

  “Target in sight,” Woodstock says, pulling me from my mental inventory.

  “How’d you see it from—” Collins leans forward, between the front seats, and sees what’s ahead at the same time I do. “Oh.”

  While the creature is definitely below the water, its position is easy to see, thanks to its gleaming white body. But is it glowing, or simply reflecting the moon’s light? I glance up at the half-moon. Glowing, I decide. A bioluminescent Kaiju.

  I toggle Devine so the FC-P and all military assets in the area can hear me. “To all U.S. Military in the Gulf of Maine, participating in Operation—” I switch Devine over to Cooper. “Coop, did we name the operation?”

  “Blockade One,” she says.

  “That’s a horrible name,” I say and switch Devine back to the military broadcast. “—Blockade One, this is FC-P Director Jon Hudson. If you are prepared, please indicate by—”

  The smart phone connecting me to Devine vibrates in my hand. The screen shows a series of green lights appearing next to the names of ships, subs and aircraft. In less than a second, all have indicated their readiness. And they’re all seeing the same thing.

  “On my mark,” I say and switch off Devine. “Take us in a wide circle, counterclockwise. I want to see this.”

  Helicopter Betty banks hard to the left and then cuts a slow right-hand circle around the target area. As we come up behind the creature’s backside, I marvel at its size, even from this far up.

  Is it bigger than Nemesis?

  Doesn’t matter.

  I toggle Devine back to the military channel and say, “Phase one, fire, fire, fire.”

  My phone vibrates. The names of the three subs are blinking. The message ‘Torpedoes away,’ appears beside each of the names.

  It takes a few seconds to see any real world results, but then several dull white streaks slide up behind the massive shape. The bubble trails are reflecting the moon’s light. And then there are too many to count.

  “Here we go,” Collins says, peering out the side window.

  The first torpedo strikes with a plume of white. It’s followed by more and more, until the water behind the creature churns. Water cascades into the air, propelled by the explosive force, but nothing else rises.

  Streaks from the east cut into view, heading toward the creature’s head, and torpedoes continue to detonate behind it. They strike with equal force, but the result is far more explosive. A mountain of white frothy water bursts hundreds of feet up into the air. For a moment, I think someone has prematurely dropped a MOAB, but then a shape resolves amidst the foam. A massive, luminous white body lifts itself free of the water, extending two ape-like arms up toward the sky, and issuing an angry roar that shakes my insides.

  Bolstered by phase one’s success, I shout, “Phase two, go, go—”

  My third ‘go’ gets lost in my throat as the behemoth turns free of the exploding waters and turns its head in our direction.

  “Oh my god,” Collins says. “Is that...”

  “Cthulhu,” I say. “Fucking Cthulhu.”

  13

  “Vy! Stoy!” The bellowed Russian words chased her into the light. Maigo didn’t understand them, but was fairly certain someone was telling her to stop. The path ahead lay mostly open. The three rings of the Atlantean structure were separated by three-foot-deep, six-foot-wide circuits, cut through by a single raised line, which could act like a walkway toward the center, but was far to the right. Rocky debris covered everything, most of it dust, but some the size of desks, which would make good cover.

  But I won’t be taking cover, she decided. If she stopped, she’d get pinned, and if that happened, she would be dead. Russian soldiers weren’t just chasing her. They were everywhere. She could see them on all sides of the Atlantean structure, raising their weapons toward the mostly naked woman bolting through the night.

  “Rasstrelyat’!” came the voice again, this time quickly drowned out by the sounds of automatic gunfire.

  Maigo dove forward and rolled. Bullets pinged off a rock as she passed. She planned to follow through back to her feet and keep running, but halfway through the roll, she reached the first ring. She fell inside the ring, dropping three feet, flat onto her back. The solid metal surface drove the air from her lungs, and rough stone scraped her skin.

  She hissed in frustration m
ore than from pain and got her feet back under her. Bullets ricocheted off the ring wall, just missing her head and forcing her back down. Pinned after all.

  She tried to crawl along the ring’s curve, but men were closing in on all sides.

  Nowhere to go.

  She glanced up past the halogen lamps’ glare, to the faint image of the stars above.

  Almost nowhere.

  “Don’t shoot!” she shouted, hoping the Russians would understand more English than she did Russian. She raised her hands up, but stayed down in a crouch, getting her bare feet beneath her, ignoring the sting of cold metal. “Don’t shoot!”

  “Vstavat’,” a man said behind her.

  She turned her eyebrows up and stuck out a quivering lip before looking over her shoulder at the man. “W-where am I?” she sobbed, looking frail and lost.

  The man’s AK-47 turned slightly. If she attacked, he might be able to bring it to bear, but she had no intention of attacking. Just as the man opened his mouth to issue some sort of order, and before his comrades arrived, Maigo heaved herself up. She left the ground behind and sailed up into the darkness above the halogen lamps.

  The men below turned their weapons up and fired at the night sky, but had nothing to aim at. Bullets buzzed around her, but none struck home as she arced over the ancient site and descended toward its core.

  She landed without a sound, employing the techniques taught to her by the naturally lithe Lilly, whose fate was still unknown. She’d thrown her clear of the explosion, and probably the base, but had Lilly been injured? Maigo doubted it. Like all good cats, Lilly always landed on her feet and could handle drops that seemed impossible to master, even for the stronger Maigo.

  As soundless as Maigo was, her body still glowed like a beacon in the harsh light.

  “Tam!” someone shouted. She turned and saw a man on the far side of the rings lift his AK-47 toward her. She saw the perfectly round barrel and knew it was aimed at her head. Right between the eyes.

  The soldier pulled the trigger, but his shot cut through the empty sky instead of her head. He’d been jerked back and thrown out of the light. A shadow pounced on him and then slid through the darkness, bounding with ridiculous agility and a complete lack of fear. “Go, girl, go!” Lilly’s shout was followed by the scream of a man caught off guard, and then an “oof!”

  Lilly was providing a counteroffensive.

  Maigo leapt for the center of the structure and was pursued by bullets. Before she was struck, a second weapon joined in, this one targeting the lamps. With a spray of sparks, the halogens burst in rapid succession, plunging the site into darkness.

  Maigo fell atop the center of the structure, a broad slab of cold metal. She squeaked to a stop as her skin rubbed against the surface. Before she could stand, a loud clunk reverberated beneath her. Physical contact, Maigo thought, recalling Brice’s words. It’s the only way inside. The clunk was followed by nine more, and then the floor fell away, taking her down with it.

  Maigo coughed as the floor came to an abrupt halt. Had she been...human, the impact would have broken bones. She glanced up and saw the circular entrance a hundred feet up. More than broken bones, she thought. Another security measure to keep out the unworthy?

  A wave of nausea roared through her body and kept her pinned for a moment. She saw red eyes in her mind again, but they came and went without any additional fanfare. Preapproved, she thought, and the sound of gunfire, now far overhead, encouraged her back to her feet.

  Find what’s down here, she thought, formulating a plan. Get back to the surface. Find Lilly. Retreat to the X-35. And get the hell out of Mother Russia.

  But when she stood up and looked around, that plan didn’t seem quite as simple. She stood on a round platform, twenty feet across, surrounded by black. The ceiling above her was a smooth, stone dome. The Atlanteans had carved out the inside of Big Diomede, creating an enormous space. But how big was it?

  “Hello,” Maigo shouted, and her voice echoed loud and far, sliding down around her for what must have been hundreds of feet.

  Maigo stepped up to the side and looked down. She had better-than-human night vision—not as good as Lilly’s, but even Lilly might have had trouble in this soup. She could see just twenty feet down, where a staircase descended, wrapping around what she could now see was a tall spire. The stairs were six feet wide and two feet tall. Not designed for people.

  How tall is this thing?

  She considered leaping, but there were heights even she couldn’t safely land from. There was no choice but to take the stairs. She leapt down the twenty feet and then followed the stairs around. Her bare feet slapped over the smooth metal stairs, and she was forced to slow down as she nearly slipped over the railing-less side. With every revolution downward, the temperature increased. After thirty trips around, she was glad to be dressed for the beach.

  How much further? she wondered, and then she had her answer, as the stairs stopped and a walkway led out over the darkness. She crept onto the walkway, testing her weight on the ancient surface and wondering why there were no railings. The Atlanteans seemed to have had little regard for personal safety. Then again, all of this was designed by an alien species that resembled human beings, but stood ten feet tall.

  When the floor didn’t even wiggle, she stepped out more confidently. She saw a round platform ahead. At its center was a metal sphere standing atop a cone. The top of the sphere rose above her head, out of reach. She stepped onto the platform, looking at the sphere. Aside from its highly reflective surface that bent Maigo’s face into something horrible, it was featureless.

  She raised her hand toward its surface, ready to test Brice’s physical contact theory again, when a voice stopped her.

  It came from above, echoing and distorted, but Maigo recognized it as Lilly. “Maigo! It’s coming!”

  She sounded uncharacteristically worried. Almost like she was in pain. Had she been injured? And what was coming?

  It’s coming.

  A laugh, closer and louder than Lilly’s voice ripped through the air. The sound of talons scrabbling against a hard surface filled the air like static.

  It.

  Leshiy, the Russian monster. But what was it?

  She would soon find out, of that there was no doubt. The only way out of here was back out the way she had come, past Leshiy, and past the Russians. But she wasn’t worried. She was a monster, too. And while most of the time she hated that truth, there were occasions where she embraced it.

  She stood on her tip-toes and placed her hand against the sphere.

  She felt a tingle of energy and tried to pull her hand away, but found herself locked in place.

  There was a loud thud behind her.

  She tried to turn around, but her locked arm restricted her movement. She craned her head around and saw it. A large creature with gray skin, wild tufts of hair and black claws lay motionless at the far side of the walkway. Its back was toward her, but she could see rolls of muscle, bony protrusions along its back and a long, still tail, dangling over the side, into the abyss.

  The thing had slipped and fallen.

  Leshiy looked like a powerful foe, but clumsy footwork and tall heights don’t make good friends. She turned her back on the creature and tried to pull her hand free again. She stopped pulling when the sound of grinding gears and snapping locks roared out all around her. The floor vibrated. Loud clacks issued from far below, repeating every second and bringing orange light to the gloom. The glow rose up beneath her as ancient lights came to life.

  And then something giggled.

  She looked back over her shoulder. The Leshiy still lay motionless. But then, movement. The long tail dangling over the side twitched. The creature’s head lifted off the floor, revealing a purple stain. She saw a face turn toward her, partly human, partly something else. Its snout curled in a sneer, and it let out another laugh. Then the creature sprang into motion, righting itself onto all fours, its forelimbs splayed wide for balance
. Its hind legs were curled and ready to pounce. The creature’s two human eyes were framed by four more solid red eyes, all squinted, all looking straight at her.

  The human parts were easy to recognize, and after a moment of looking, Maigo recognized the rest of it, or at least some of it. GOD was creating chimeras again, as they had done on Island 731, but instead of merging various animal species into something more deadly, they had thrown alien DNA into the mix. In this case, Ferox DNA.

  Leshiy hissed and took a step forward.

  Orange light blazed around them as the sequence of igniting lamps reached their level with a clack. Leshiy skittered back in surprise. At first, Maigo thought it was strange that the clearly savage creature would react so strongly to light, but then, as it slowly craned its head upward, she realized it was reacting to what the light revealed.

  Maigo’s hand sprang free from the orb. Then she twisted around and looked into a pair of massive, blazing red eyes.

  14

  I look down at the bulbous, white head and see eyes as black as night and the size of commuter buses staring back at me.

  Not at us, I think, past us. Of all the things in the sky right now, Helicopter Betty is the least dangerous.

  Pulses of blue-green color ripple through the Kaiju’s bulbous, bald head as the tentacles hanging where its mouth should be snap open in an obvious threat display. The shifting colors remind me of a cuttlefish. Unlike the tentacles of squid or octopus, these are not covered in round suckers, but long, sharp spikes. They remind me of pale, white, starfish limbs, and even more like the alien head GOD had floating in a giant tube beneath the sands of Area 51. Its name was Artuke. One of the Aeros.

  But while the Kaiju below bears some resemblance to the Aeros, I think this is something different. Created by them, maybe, but not one of them. For starters, it’s too big. The thing is standing chest deep in water that descends three hundred feet. And that’s with a slight hunch. If it stood up straight, it would be taller than Nemesis. But it also lacks a certain intelligence. There’s no way to know how smart this thing is, but I get the impression that this thing is more primal rage than brains. I don’t see it flying around the galaxy subjecting planets. No, this isn’t the enemy, this is their weapon.