Project Hyperion

by Jeremy Robinson

  “If we survive the day,” Hawkins said, and he motioned to the scene below them.

  Typhon and Scylla moved in from both sides, their postures shifting from neutral to outwardly aggressive. But their snarls and teeth gnashing looked unnatural and repetitive, like they’d been preprogrammed to look fierce.

  Giger twitched one direction and then the other, spinning its body around with a suddenness that seemed impossible, and sending seawater spraying in every direction. The Kaiju was cornered, but would it retreat or attack? And could one Kaiju really hope to defeat these three behemoths?

  Hawkins knew it was possible, of course. Nemesis had done the same, though she’d had help.

  Then all the twitching stopped, and Giger froze, its attention on Scylla. Typhon approached from behind, moving in calm, measured steps, its actions clearly those of a human being. Typhon reached up under Giger’s topmost arms and wrapped its mighty hands around the back of its adversary’s neck, folding over a group of the hair-like spines.

  Giger was lifted up, held in place, its feet lifting up out of the water.

  Why did it do that? Hawkins wondered. The alien Kaiju had given the Kaiju-clone the perfect opening. Maybe it was expecting a more savage attack? The kind that these Kaiju might have delivered before they were under the control of human minds?

  The truth of the situation was revealed in the blink of an eye, as Giger’s bony tail snapped up out of the water, and the end pierced up through Scylla’s chin. The sharp tip drove through the skull and burst from the top with a spray of gore. Before anyone, or anything, could even think to react, the tail pulled out of Scylla’s head and cracked down, like a whip. The blade slid through Scylla’s armored skin, deftly avoiding all the orange membranes. The wound bulged and then split, disgorging a mass of entrails that splashed into the bay and sent a wave sliding toward the shore.

  Scylla fell backwards, trailing its insides, and landed in the water. The cloned Kaiju sank down so that just its frozen face rose partially from the water.

  Giger pitched forward, planting its feet on the ocean floor and lifting Typhon up. The man-shaped Kaiju flipped through the air, landing atop his dead sister. Before the Kaiju could right himself, Giger was upon him. Typhon’s face flexed and snapped open, revealing ferocious mandibles that would make the average creature think twice about tangling with him, but Giger was far from average.

  Two of the alien Kaiju’s hands snapped out and grasped the mandibles. The other two wrapped around Typhon’s throat. Then Giger was airborne, driving its feet into Typhon’s gut, punching through flesh with black claws. They fell together, and while Typhon twitched, Giger peeled open his face, yanking the mandibles apart. The neck went next, compressing inward with enough strength to force blood from the monster’s eyes.

  With two Kaiju killed in seconds, Hawkins held out little hope that Karkinos would fare much better, but the monster was at least double the size of Giger. He just needed to get in one good strike.

  Karkinos never got the chance.

  Giger spun around as the larger Kaiju stepped up behind it and raised its massive claws up. The lightning fast tail snapped up again, puncturing Karkinos’s chest, but instead of eviscerating the Kaiju, it acted more like a grappling hook. With a quick yank of its tail, the lithe Giger launched up over Karkinos, grasped his head and flipped around to Karkinos’s back. Again, Hawkins noticed that while Giger could have mortally wounded the larger Kaiju, it didn’t.

  What’s it doing?

  Clutching to Karkinos’s back with all six limbs, Giger’s tail rose up behind it. While the massive Kaiju bucked and thrashed, the tail hovered over the back of its head. And then, with the precise aim of a surgeon and the speed of a lightning bolt, the tail shot into the base of Karkinos’s skull.

  The massive monster shuddered, went still and crumpled into the bay. Giger leapt free, landing a safe distance away. Then it moved closer, inspecting Karkinos’s body.

  “Is it going to eat him?” Lilly asked.

  Hawkins was wondering the same thing, but Brice saw what they had missed. “It’s still alive. Karkinos is alive. My god, it severed the connection!”

  Giger clung to Karkinos and dragged the larger Kaiju toward deeper water. When it got deep enough, Giger dipped beneath the waves and pulled the massive creature with it. The alien Kaiju had killed two of the cloned offspring of Prime, but had taken Karkinos. But why? Food? A trophy? Hawkins couldn’t guess.

  But Tokyo had been spared. And that was at least something.

  There was a click, and then Hudson’s voice filled the X-35. “Hawkins, what’s the situation there?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Hawkins said, looking down at the corpses leaking gore into Tokyo Bay.

  “Pretty sure I would,” Hudson replied, and Hawkins realized there were events happening on the far side of the world that he hadn’t witnessed. “What happened?”

  Hawkins tried to think of the best way to summarize what they had seen, but it was Lilly who spoke. “Giger just kicked the shit out of Typhon, Scylla and Karkinos.”

  Hudson was silent for a moment, no doubt absorbing the news that their old enemies were alive again.

  “Typhon and Scylla are shark chum,” Lilly continued, “Karkinos is MIA, and when I say MIA, I mean it. GOD was controlling them. Oh, and we took Alicio Brice captive. Well, one of him. This one seems pretty docile.”

  “Hawkins...” Hudson said. “Is she yanking my chain?”

  “Actually, that was a pretty accurate description of the situation.”

  “Fantastic,” Hudson said. “I’m currently clinging to the back of a drone over Boston Harbor, but I’ll get back to you both for a full debrief once I’m on the ground.”

  “Should we head back?” Hawkins asked.

  “Not until we know where things are going to go down next,” Hudson said. “In the meantime, get what you can out of the Brice.”

  Hawkins forced a grin at Brice. “Will do.”

  “Who came up with ‘Giger’?” Hudson asked.

  “I did,” Lilly said. “But before you—”

  “H.R. Giger?” Hudson asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “First, you watch too much TV, kid. Seriously, your pop culture knowledge is out of control. Second, I like it.”

  Lilly smiled.

  “But it doesn’t make up for stealing Future Betty. You and Maigo will be making that stunt up to the rest of us later. For now, keep on kicking ass.”

  “Will do,” Lilly said, impersonating Hawkins.

  Hudson chuckled and disconnected.

  Hawkins turned his attention to Brice. “Tell me about the aircraft carrier.”

  29

  Seeing Maigo separate from the machine fills me with more relief than I’m emotionally prepared for. Since I’m the first to jump from Penny, who was recovered by the Coast Guard, to Hyperion’s shoulder, where Maigo awaits, no one sees my glassy eyes. Well, Maigo does, but she’s kind enough to not point it out. Instead, she wraps her arms around me and returns my hug.

  The mammoth mech is lying down in the ocean, just off West Beach in Beverly Farms. From above, it looks like it’s taking a leisurely bath. Waves lap against the top of its torso, which rises a few feet above the surface. I have Alessi and Zoomb working on a place to keep the giant robot, but for now, there’s no hiding it. While most of the coastline is currently uninhabited, several news choppers are circling outside the military-enforced no-fly zone we had declared around Hyperion. It’s not that we want to keep it a secret. There’s no putting that cat back in the bag. It’s that I have trust issues with anything taller than André the Giant. This ancient tech is a massive liability. Until I can guarantee that Hyperion won’t spring to life and lay waste to humanity, I’m going to try to keep humanity far enough away that they have a good lead when they start running for their lives.

  “I’m okay,” she says as I squeeze her. “Really.”

  “You stole an aircraft, flew
across the country into Russian territory, recovered an ancient Atlantean Kaiju-killing robot, fought Lovecraft and Nemesis, and I’m not supposed to be concerned for your well-being?”

  “All good points,” she said.

  “Can I ask why you’re only wearing underwear?”

  “I think you just did,” she says, and she smiles in a way that says she thinks I’m going to let the subject go with a joke.

  I take her arm. “Seriously, I need to know if there’s anyone I need to murder. Where are your clothes?”

  “Nothing like that happened,” she says. “I...I was captured.”

  I already knew that. Hawkins filled me in on Lilly’s side of the story. But I need Maigo to tell me. “By the Russians?”

  “I think they were working for GOD. Or at least with GOD. But Brice set me free.”

  “And your clothes?” I ask.

  She smiles. “There’s no one you need to kick in the junk.”

  “Get out of my head, kid,” I say, unable to hide my own smile.

  “Doesn’t take a mental connection to know that’s what you were thinking.”

  Collins joins us on the broad flat surface of Hyperion’s shoulder. She greets Maigo with a hug, kissing the flat black hair atop the girl’s head. Then she helps Watson make the jump from the bobbing yacht to Hyperion’s shoulder.

  When Watson gets his feet beneath him, he studies the broad surface of Hyperion’s body, his facial expression torn between horror and fascination. “Are we sure this is safe? Couldn’t it stand up or something?”

  “Hyperion and I...” Maigo looks at me, like what she’s about to say will disappoint me, “...are tethered. Mentally.”

  I can’t say I’m surprised. That’s how this Voice thing seems to work, and Nemesis’s response to Maigo’s presence confirms that the connection isn’t forgotten, though it can be replaced. I cross my arms. “How long will that last?”

  She shrugs. “Until I die. I think.” She turns to Watson. “He knows I’m here. Knows that people are supposed to be protected. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt us.”

  “Like Asimov’s laws of robotics?” Watson asks.

  “More like Maigo’s rules for good behavior,” she says.

  “And if Nemesis shows up?” Collins asks. “Or Lovecraft?”

  “Then Hyperion will be the least of your concerns,” Maigo says, revealing a twinge of annoyance. She is the most powerful woman on the planet, now in control of the most powerful technology we’ve ever seen. But she still has parents, and like all parents, we’re doubting her, second-guessing her and worrying about her. It’s not that we don’t trust her, we just don’t want her to make any mistakes.

  But maybe that’s the mistake? People don’t learn much when everything is peachy and life presents no challenges. And the last thing we want to do is push her away. The most powerful woman in the world, with the most powerful robot, would make a horrible rebellious teen.

  “Nemesis was last seen headed north, toward the Arctic,” I say, trying to put everyone at ease. “And the reports of giant waves making landfall an hour ahead of her seem to indicate that Lovecraft is headed in that direction as well.”

  I turn to Maigo with an exaggerated grin that says it’s time for everyone to be nice. “Now, what can you tell us about Hyperion?”

  She gives us a basic run down of what we already knew or suspected. Hyperion was built by the Ferox for use by the Atlantide, for the express purpose of killing Gestorumque and defending Atlantis. While it failed to protect the fabled city, it did kill Nemesis Prime, and that ain’t nothing. Its size and physical strength is equal to most, but not all, Kaiju. It’s also faster than the average Kaiju. Like Nemesis, it’s a good balance of strength and speed. And what it lacks in ferocity, it makes up for with firepower—including face-melting laser cannons. They make my recently defeated Swarm seem like bees rather than the most advanced, unmanned aerial-combat vehicles ever developed.

  “Where does all this power come from?” Watson asks. His eyes are wide and squirrely, darting back and forth as he takes in every inch of the impressive metal physique. And I’m using the word ‘metal’ loosely. It will probably be a while before we fully understand how this thing was built. From a distance, its surface looks like solid sheets of armor, but an up close inspection reveals countless octagonal cells that can actually heal in time, which is what Hyperion is doing right now. Maigo says the puncture wounds inflicted by Nemesis were nearly catastrophic, but since they damaged only armor, it would be just a few hours before the big robot was battle-ready again.

  “It’s called a Rift Engine,” Maigo says, leading us from the shoulder to the broad chest.

  I feel like a kid, scrabbling over the ridges of armor like rocks at the beach. Maigo leaps up onto the chest with ease, but I have to give Collins and Watson a ten finger boost and rely on Maigo to yank me up.

  “Rift Engine,” Watson says once he’s back on his feet. “That implies some kind of splitting is taking place. It’s not nuclear, is it?”

  Maigo shakes her head. “I don’t know the science behind it, and even if Hyperion could give me that information, I doubt I’d understand it. But I’m pretty sure no atoms are being split. I think the ‘rift’ is closer to a description of what it can do, rather than how it works.

  “Teleportation,” Watson says in the way a preteen might whisper the name of the latest prefab heartthrob’s name. And I’m right there with him. As a fan of Star Trek, there are two things that have always been on my future bucket list: 1. Getting beamed up, and 2. Thirty minutes in a holodeck preprogrammed with Seven of Nine and T’Pol.

  “How long did it take to get from Big Diomede to Boston?” Watson asks.

  “It was instantaneous.” Maigo snapped her fingers. “I was there, and then I was here. It wasn’t really something I meant to do. It was more like Hyperion inferred it, and took action. I wasn’t exactly prepared for what came next.”

  “You weren’t the only one,” Collins says. “Lovecraft seemed caught off guard.”

  Maigo stops short of the large three-ringed Atlantean symbol on Hyperion’s chest. Each ring is embedded a little lower than the first, fifteen feet down from the edge to the core.

  “We can fill it with water,” I say. “Go for a swim.”

  Collins and Maigo both give me the one eyebrow-raised stink eye. Watson just smiles and nods. The over-stimulated fan boy in him would be willing to try anything associated with the giant robot.

  “So,” I say, “can we see the Rift Engine, or is that a secret?”

  Maigo rolls her eyes at me. “I don’t keep secrets from you.”

  “You just steal aircraft,” Collins said, and the two women direct their stink eyes at each other.

  I clear my throat, “Ahem,” and sweep my hand over the broad chest. “Mighty Hyperion. Reveal the source of thy power!”

  Nothing happens.

  I glance at Maigo when nothing happens. “Spoilsport.”

  She crouches and places her bare hand on the octagonal pattern covering the chest. She blinks twice and one of her cheeks twitch. She might be connected to Hyperion in some kind of loose way, but she still needs to make physical contact to command the thing. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

  There’s a clunk as the center ring moves inward and slides to the side. The second ring splits down the middle and pulls apart. The outer ring breaks into three triangular segments and twists apart. When everything is done moving, there’s a massive hole revealing Hyperion’s inner workings. Most of what’s inside is covered in a second layer of armor, including a large bronze ball at the core. The sphere lifts up, and its octagonal plates flip back and scroll away, revealing a device that must be the Rift Engine.

  It doesn’t look like much, and I have a hard time imagining that this thing could power a giant robot, let alone transport anything from one side of the country to the other.

  “Looks like a bell,” Collins says.

  As
she speaks the word ‘bell,’ Watson flinches like he’s been slapped. “Oh my god. I’ve seen this before.”

  That gets my full and immediate attention. “Excuse me?”

  “The bell. Die Glocke,” Watson says. “It was a secret weapon, a Wunderwaffe—a wonder weapon—developed by the Nazis during World War II. There have been reports that the device could fly, that it melted people and that it opened a portal...a rift...between dimensions.”

  “Why would technology developed by Nazis power an Atlantenevermind.” The pieces fall into place just a moment before I make myself look like a doofus. “They didn’t build it. They found it.”

  “Possibly at the ruins of Atlantis,” Watson says. “Heinrich Himmler led an SS unit called the Ahnenerbe for a decade. Part of their mission was to search for the location of Atlantis, which they believed was populated by an Aryan master race.”

  “An alien master race,” I say. “I wonder how they would have felt if they’d known the genes they cherished so much weren’t even human.”

  “I think they would have been pleased,” Watson says. “But by that time, the Atlantide had likely polluted most of humanity with their genetics.”

  “While the Ferox polluted us with their warlike ways,” Collins says, arms crossed, frowning deeply. She doesn’t like the idea of being ruled over or controlled, but that’s exactly the kind of personality the Ferox built into us, along with a healthy dose of, ‘That thing with tentacles! Kill it!’

  I keep that to myself, though. While I’m not a fan of being manipulated, there’s a possibility that the Ferox influence that kept the human race warring and refining ways to kill each other, gave us the tools to fend off the Aeros, who would enslave us all...they say. According to Zachary Cole—and the files stolen from GOD—the few survivors of an encounter with an Aeros named Artuke confirmed the squid-faced alien race’s nefarious intentions. That didn’t make the Ferox our friends. From what I understand about them, their human equivalent would be a terrorist organization...if terrorist organizations had just causes. But does any cause justify the killing, manipulation and endangerment of entire civilizations over thousands of years?