Kaiju Seeds Of Destruction

by JE Gurley

  Costas shook his head. “No can do. We’re to strap in until after launch in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes. Come on. I saved us a nice secluded spot on a bench.” As Walker crossed the crowded space, Costas said, “Would you believe there are exits signs above the doors. Like, where the hell are we gonna go in an emergency?”

  A soft chimed signaled the two-minute warning. Everyone searched for a place to sit and strapped in.

  “Okay, everyone,” Costas called out loudly, “make sure your trays are secured and your seats are in the upright position.”

  A single chime announced the engagement of the gravity drive. Walker expected some kind of inertia, as he had seen on Cape Canaveral liftoffs. Instead, only a gentle pressure pushed at him as the artificial gravity engaged. It stopped at .8 Gs, leaving him feeling a little light.

  “Not bad,” Costas said, grinning. “I could get used to this.” He glanced at the four female pilots and copilots. “I wonder if any of them would like to join my Hundred-Mile High Club.”

  “Keep your flight suit zippered, Costas. We’re not here for fun.”

  “Too bad. That redhead looks inviting.”

  An overhead view screen flared to life displaying the Earth rapidly receding behind them.

  “Hell, we must be at the moon already,” Costas remarked.

  Sakiri walked over to them. “Not quite, Sergeant. Twenty more minutes, but we’re just cruising so we won’t disturb any satellite orbits on the way outbound.”

  “Maybe they’ll play Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon as we go by.”

  Walker stood, staggering slightly as his body tried to shift his 168-pound frame that now weighed 34 pounds less at .8 G. “Fire Team Alpha to the aft briefing room. Bring your gear. It’ll be your new home for the next few weeks.”

  Costas rose, an unlit cigar jammed in his mouth. “You heard the man, you space grunts, move it! Pack your gear and move your rears. Your luxury accommodations are waiting. Room service is available until I say it ain’t. Don’t worry. If NASA can train a chimp to go into space, I’m sure you mangy curs can manage.” He turned to Walker. “Don’t worry, Major. I’ll make men of them before we reach a hot LZ. Except Cantrell, of course,” he added. “She’s already a better man than most of them.”

  * * * *

  The Javelin launch was flawless, for which Gate was grateful. Sitting in a ship constructed of steel girders and new technology consisting of a bastardized hybrid of alien and human hardware. The ship boosted away from Earth orbit with hardly a shudder. They were already moving faster than any human had ever traveled, and they were barely pushing the drive. Blivens had recovered from his bout of space sickness with the return of gravity and seemed a more pleasant individual. He watched the minute fluctuations in the drive pulses on his screen with the eyes of a wary hawk, eager to maximize the drive’s efficiency.

  Gate studied the gravity gradients of the outer planets, hoping to use their gravity wells to boost the ship’s speed. They would need to place as much distance as possible between them and the oncoming Kaiju pods, while leaving maneuvering room in case the aliens decided to sacrifice one of the Kaiju to stop the ship. Gate hoped it didn’t come to that. Space battles were a new thing and the Javelin would be at a great disadvantage. She carried no on-board weapons system. They would have to stop to launch the Lances. Two operating gravity drives in close proximity presented a unique set of problems. In time, they would be able to compensate for such occurrences, but for now, it was too dangerous.

  By chance or fate, Mars, Venus, Saturn, Jupiter, and Pluto were in rough alignment with Earth. They would pass near all five planets on their journey. This allowed Gate some leeway in his computations. It did not help that the fate of the ship, the crew, and perhaps the entire planet rested in his nervous hands. He continued working until a chime reminded him that his meal slot had arrived. He was too anxious to eat, but he needed to keep up his strength.

  The galley was full, but he would eat at his station. He chose a beef stew MRE from the bin, and waited his turn to microwave it. Many ate it cold from the bag, but he preferred a hot meal. He chose a piece of flatbread to go with it, and a fudge brownie for dessert. The coffee was lukewarm but strong enough to keep him awake. He was halfway down the corridor when a familiar voice called out.

  “I thought you were through risking your life.”

  He turned and grinned at Walker. “I thought you might need someone to keep an eye on Costas.”

  “Yeah, he’s a handful alright. So, you’re our navigator.”

  He hugged the wall, as someone pushed by. “I’m afraid so. It seems NASA thinks I’m indispensable.” He shrugged. “The way things are looking one place is as safe as another. Come join me on the bridge. It’s less crowded. Somewhat,” he added.

  On the bridge, Goodman and Blivens were busy at their stations; Goodman checking ship’s systems and Blivens playing a video game. Worthen was asleep in his bunk with the curtain drawn. This allowed Gate and Walker a modicum of privacy. Walker leaned against the wall, while Gate sat in a padded folding chair beneath his hammock that had become his workstation. They spoke softly to not disturb the others.

  “I’m afraid I’m the reason you’re here,” Gate confessed, hoping his forthrightness would soothe any of Walker’s misgivings. “When word of the mission to Haumea came up, I knew you would be the man for the job.”

  Walker rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Nothing like a shitload of responsibility dropped on you to make your day. By the way, I wouldn’t tell Costas. He might take it the wrong way.”

  “I know how he feels. I found out I was going eight hours before I left Ellis.”

  Walker’s eyes bored into him. “You could have refused.”

  Gate stared back at Walker. He knew he could not lie to him. “No more than you could. We’ve been inside one of the damn things. That changes a man.” He tapped his head. “In here.” He could confess to Walker. Walker understood what he meant. He had been through it too.

  “You got that right.”

  “Can we do it?” He hated to ask the question. It seemed defeatist, but he trusted Walker’s judgment. He knew Walker would not lie to him.

  “Defeat the Nazir? We can try. It’s certain we can’t continue to fight them on the home front. They’re winning that battle.” He paused. “With this new invasion of Kaiju, they could win the war before we reach Haumea.”

  A sharp pain sprang to life in Gate’s temple. That was also his worry. If the countries began using nukes on the Kaiju, how long before someone accidentally dropped one on a neighbor and started WWIII. With tensions already running high, it would not take much to provoke a global confrontation. The aliens would win by default. In his estimation, the aliens had only one flaw.

  He gently massaged his temple. “The Nazir are methodical to a fault. They seem intent on defeating us before taking our world. The logical course would be to attach a few gravity drives to a large asteroid and send it hurtling toward Earth. They could wipe us out in days or weeks.”

  Blivens overheard, looked up from his console, and hissed his disagreement. “You have something to add?” Gate demanded.

  “Don’t jinx us by naming our death,” Blivens snapped. “Besides, it would be tricky to synchronize so many drives to operate simultaneously.”

  “The Nazir invented the gravity drive. Do you doubt their ability to do it? They crossed between star systems, tens of thousands of Astronomical Units. We’re trying to travel reach Haumea just 53 AUs away.”

  Blivens glared at him. “No, I don’t doubt their ability. That’s why I chose to come. Eventually, they will stop fighting us in a conventional manner and decide to eliminate us in one massive attack. I came to try to stop them. I didn’t realize we might be too late. ”

  “You’re referring to the inbound Kaiju armada, aren’t you?” Walker asked.

  “You’ve seen how they operate, always adapting, tinkering. What makes you think these incoming pods are the
same as the last batch, just more Kaiju? They could contain bombs or biological weapons. Maybe they’ve decided to forget about terrorizing us or destroying cities and simply wipe us out en masse.”

  Gate’s face paled. “My God, you mean Armageddon.” He had written about end-of-the-world scenarios, but reality was too terrible to contemplate.

  Blivens nodded. His looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. “Yes, something like that.”

  “You could be wrong.”

  “I hope to hell I am. It’s just … well, I can see them creating large numbers of Kaiju. They’re essentially cyborgs – some organic material, some ebony crystalline material, and a bit of technology. Gravity drives, on the other hand, are highly complex technological devices. Wasting them to send Kaiju to Earth seems counterproductive, even if they intend to recover them afterward.”

  “They tried a gravity bomb, if you recall,” Gate reminded him.

  “Yeah, but why just one?”

  Gate set his food on the deck beside him, his appetite gone. He had asked himself the same question after Kiribati. “They want Earth as intact as possible for colonization.”

  “We’re assuming that because the Kaiju and their parasitical creatures can breathe our atmosphere, the aliens do too. Suppose they don’t. What if they designed the Kaiju specifically for our atmosphere? If they want our mineral wealth, it seems plausible they could mine with cyborg creatures of their design no matter what the atmosphere.” He shook head. “No, I don’t think we can assume that. They had their choice of mineral-rich outer planets. Why Earth? Until they provided us with the technology, we couldn’t reach them to stop them.”

  “They want the one thing Earth has in abundance,” Walker suggested, “water.”

  Blivens turned to face Walker and shrugged. “Maybe, but the solar system is rife with ice comets and frozen seas on various planetary moons. Major, what does the military do in a protracted war?”

  Walker caught onto Blivens’ train of thought before Gate did. It surprised him when Walker answered, “Test new weapons systems under battlefield conditions.”

  Blivens nodded. “I think that’s what the Nazir are doing. They could have ended the war earlier, but they’re preparing for the next world they encounter, the next war.”

  Blivens’ suppositions left Gate reeling. His temple throbbed even harder. Blivens’ statement explained the slight modifications of each wave of Kaiju. The aliens were tinkering with their new weapons system, tailoring them for Earth. Why hadn’t he arrived at that conclusion? Because I’m no soldier. I’m a catastrophist. I think in terms of cause and effect. Blivens has probably played video games his entire life with scenarios very much like the one taking place in real life. He glanced at Walker and spotted the concern etched on his face. Blivens’ conjectures had struck a nerve with him. Anything that worried the imperturbable Walker concerned him.

  Blivens continued, “We could be too late. Win or lose, we might not have a planet to return to.”

  Despite Blivens’ certainty, Gate’s gut told him not to despair. “I refuse to believe that,” he countered. “Things might look bad for humankind, but we’re adapting. This mission proves it. For the first time, we’re taking the fight to the Nazir. We can stop them or slow them down.”

  “Yeah, if we don’t blow ourselves up in the meantime.”

  Walker cleared his throat. His eyes smoldered. Gate wasn’t sure if his ire was for Blivens or the Nazir. “Small, well-executed raids have often turned the tide of a war. The Doolittle raid on Tokyo and the Dambuster raid on the Ruhr Valley dams in Germany are two good examples.”

  “We knew who we were fighting then,” Blivens said. “We know nothing about the Nazir.”

  Walker’s face tightened as he clenched his Jaw. “We know they want to kill us. We have to kill them first.”

  Gate hoped it was as simple as that, but somehow, he doubted it.

  9

  August 13, Marina de San Nicola, Italy –

  Johan ten Boom, now Pope Clement XVI, stood at the harbor at Marina da San Nicola. His heart lay heavy in his chest, not so much for his own suffering, but for the trials and tribulations he had witnessed the people of Italy suffering on his flight from the Vatican. Throughout the long night, the images had played in his head like a newsreel loop, driving home the blight that had come to Italy and the entire world. He had found no sleep and little rest. They had undertaken the journey to take ship to Malta. They had arrived too late. A few miles offshore, a white yacht with blue trim sailed south along the coast. The rising sun glinted from the windows.

  Bishop Peter O’Bannon stood beside him swearing softly to himself. “Careful, Peter,” Johan warned. “Do not blaspheme.”

  “Forgive me, Your Holiness. My anger consumes me.” He pointed to the yacht. “That is Simon Ponte’s yacht. He said he would wait until dawn. He sailed early.”

  Johan did not allow his disappointment to show. O’Bannon had tactfully not pointed out that it was his fault they had missed their boat. If he had not insisted on helping the people along the highway in Rome, they would have arrived hours earlier.

  “Perhaps our benefactor waited as long as he could. The crowds grow larger each hour. He might have feared to lose his boat.”

  “But, we are stranded here.”

  “God will provide.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Rene Bossard and his few remaining Swiss Guard formed a protective semi-circle around Pope Clement and O’Bannon to keep the pressing crowd at a distance. His wary eyes scanned the throng for any sign of danger. For now, they were merely curious. Most had recognized the Papal insignia on the vehicles, though they did not recognize the new Pope. Johan closed his eyes and prayed. He should have prayed more on the journey, but his mind had been embroiled with other matters he considered important. Now, they seemed less so. Even in their peril, or, more importantly because of it, they could not forget God’s grace.

  “We should continue north along the coast,” Bossard suggested. “We might find another ship. At least we can avoid the crowds.”

  “Not yet, Colonel,” Johan replied. “I feel I should remain here for a time.”

  “Has the Lord spoken to you?” O’Bannon asked.

  Johan observed the disapproval in his aide’s eyes and caught the flippancy in his question. “Do you not think God might speak to me?”

  “I wish he would tell you to listen to Bossard.” He glanced at the crowd. “It is not safe here, even for a Pope.”

  “In perilous times, it is not safe anywhere. This place will do as well as any other.”

  O’Bannon shook his head. “You vex me, Your Holiness. How can these few men – I number myself among them – protect you? Crowds draw the alien creatures. The military is busy elsewhere.”

  Johan understood his friend’s concern, but he was tired of running. Malta was his destination, and no other place would do. He stared out over the sea. The water was as still as a golden mirror slicing the cloudless sky in half. “God will watch over us.”

  O’Bannon sighed and turned away. A soft murmur rippled through the crowd. Johan checked the skies, but they were empty of any threat. Then, he spotted a motor launch approaching the dock. People pushed and shoved to reach the dock, but Bossard stopped them. The boat drew alongside them. A man in a white uniform hopped out and went to his knees in front of Johan.

  “Your Holiness, I am First Mate Antonio Aldo of the Doria. Captain Marcello apologizes for leaving early, but the Navy was impounding ships and felt it unwise to remain. He sent me to fetch you and your entourage.” He glanced at the four Swiss Guard. “I thought there would be more of you.”

  “There were more of us when we began our journey. Please rise, Antonio.” He glanced at the crowd. “Is there any way to take some of these people?”

  Aldo looked uncertain if he should interpret a suggestion from the Pope as an order. He hesitated, and then said, “It is but a small ship, Your Holiness, only 46-meters. If the situation demanded it, we co
uld squeeze maybe a dozen people onto the deck, no more. If the seas became rough, it would be dangerous for them.”

  “More dangerous than here? Colonel Bossard, please inform the people that we can take only a few. I suggest women and children.”

  Bossard glanced at the crowd, and then back at Johan. “They will riot, Your Holiness.”

  Johan smiled. “I think not. Tell them the children are our future. Remind them Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them. For the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.’”

  “I will have to make two trips to the Doria, Your Holiness,” Aldo said.

  “Then take the children first. If the others see that I remain, they will not panic.”

  “What if … what if …?”

  “What if I am wrong? In that case, my son, there is no hope left for mankind and dying here will serve God’s will.”

  He was not certain he was doing the intelligent thing, but he was doing the right thing. Abandoning his flock here to minister to another flock on Malta seemed too easy a way out. Any he could save, he would.

  Aldo crossed himself. “I pray you are right, Your Holiness.”

  Johan smiled. “As do I, my son.”

  10

  August 13, Budapest, Hungary –

  Aleksandr Belovol had not wanted his mission, nor had his weapons specialist Sergei Andropov. Since the arrival of the Kaiju, Russia had reasserted its dominance over Ukraine. The newly installed politburo was now in charge. The conflict had been brief, a matter of three days, as five thousand Russian troops and one hundred T-99 tanks with 125mm cannons surged over the border, and the Ukraine government collapsed. So far, Russian territories had remained free of Kaiju, and they would go to great lengths to keep it that way. His Sukhoi SU-24m Fencer attack jet carried four R-60 Aphid air-to-air missiles for defense and a single Kh-102 cruise missile as its payload. The nuclear-tipped weapon delivered a blast of 350 kilotons, sufficient to destroy a Kaiju, or a city.