Kaiju Seeds Of Destruction (Kaiju Deadfall Book 3)

by JE Gurley

  Around him, the refugees and the Swiss Guard poured off the boat, eager to set foot on the soil of their new home. Lines of officials waiting with clipboards questioned each one as they disembarked in a too-often unsuccessful effort to place them where it would do the most good. Health officials moved among them, offering inoculations to stop the spread of communicable diseases. The scene repeated itself in every country under siege by Kaiju, people forced to flee and ask their neighbors for help. Some obliged; some did not. If the world were to survive, all its people would have to learn to think differently. The aliens did not acknowledge artificial divides and borders. Neither could mankind. It would be a hard lesson. He took a deep breath of Maltese air, so different from that of Rome; and yet, so similar. Many things would change for him, but many would remain the same. He was now Pope Clement XVI, but he was also still Johan ten Boom.

  “Peter,” he said, “do you know what day this is?”

  “I believe it is Sunday, Your Holiness.”

  Pope Clement smiled. “Yes, it is. Let us begin our new journey with a special mass.”

  As Johan strode through the crowd, touching people’s extended hands, concern for the fate of the world, the Catholic Church, his tenure as Pope, and his new life on Malta troubled his mind, but his greatest fear was the inoculation he now faced. The new Pope had a deathly fear of needles.

  24

  August 22, Haumea –

  Gate knew he was going to die; knew it with the certainty of one of his mathematical computations: aliens + deadly alien environment = death. He tried not to display his fear to his companions, but was sure they could see it in his eyes. He had come fully expecting to die, not because he was a hero or because he enjoyed challenging death, but because Earth needed whatever information that he could glean, even at the cost of his life. Walker could provide intel on armament and military threats, but he was no scientist. Of all the humans now prowling the dark bowels of Haumea, only he knew what might be important from a scientific standpoint. Blivens or Worthen might have been better suited for the task, but they were essential to the Assegai. He had examined the exotic organic crystalline cyborg controlling apparatus and communications systems of Kaiju Nusku and possessed a rudimentary grasp of the basics of the alien technology. Fit or not, he would have to do.

  The modified rocket launcher he gripped so tightly in his hands reminded him of the peril of his situation. He had used shotguns and assault rifles against Wasps and other creatures inside Kaiju Nusku, but he had been familiar with them if not proficient in their use. The rocket launcher felt unnatural. He feared that with it, he posed a bigger threat to his companions than he did to the aliens, but he was afraid to lay it aside. Without some type of weapon in his hands to stoke his confidence, he thought he might run screaming from the dark tunnel.

  The tunnel eerily reminded him of the passageways inside Kaiju Nusku, dark, alien, and foreboding. Composed of stone rather than ebony Kaiju material, it was nonetheless intimidating – a cross between wandering helplessly inside a Kaiju’s body and lost in a deep abandoned mineshaft. In spite of the low gravity, he imagined he could feel the rock pressing down on him. He rushed to suppress the sense of deja vu and its frightening connotation before it found a place in his mind to root and feed his growing terror. He faced enough problems to keep him occupied without reliving old ones.

  As they progressed deeper into the heart of the planetoid Haumea, following the conveyor bearing Kaiju armor plates, the ground throbbed with the beat of some heavy alien machinery. Walker insisted on inspecting each of several openings they stumble upon, a series of side caverns excavated by the same process the aliens had used in constructing the tunnel. Two such chambers proved storerooms piled high with stacks of Kaiju armor plates, enough for a dozen more Kaiju. A bulky multi-armed machine removed armor plates from the conveyor and stacked them onto an open tram. The vehicle rode a single metal rail. When loaded, it trundled the plates to an empty spot, tilted, and dumped them onto the ground. When adding to a higher stack, the entire tram lifted on hydraulic legs to the desired level.

  A third cavern contained four, enormous, sealed vats, each twenty feet tall and fifty feet in diameter. A clear inspection window running from the floor to the top of the vat revealed a bioluminescent organic substance inside, slowly rotating. The material quivered and pulsed as if alive. Three vats contained a thick ocher-colored material. The fourth’s contents were the color of congealed blood. Numerous tubes pierced the sides of the vat supplying the organic material with nutrients, while others drained away waste material. Gate recognized the substance inside the vats.

  “This is like the organic substrate we saw in the Kaiju. They initiate growth in these tanks, transfer it into a completed Kaiju shell, and allow it to develop into the desired organic components. Considering the complexity of organic material that we saw in Nusku, there will be more vats like this, and more where they develop fully functioning organs from the genetic material.”

  Walker frowned. “We severely underestimated their production capacity. They could keep sending Kaiju until they wear us down.”

  Gate agreed. “After they wipe out mankind, they probably plan to utilize specialized Kaiju to harvest whatever raw materials they want from Earth. They have planet harvesting down to a science.”

  Two caverns were empty. The sixth turned Gate’s stomach when they entered it. Memories from inside the Kaiju flooded back so fast it made him dizzy. A chill crept up his spine. “It’s a crèche.”

  The chamber was a duplicate of one of the nursery crèches they had discovered inside Nusku. Rows of crystalline pods lined the walls of the eighty-foot-diameter space. Each translucent coffer along the bottom row contained an immature creature unlike any they had seen. Measuring slightly taller than a human being, the arthropodal creatures possessed three distinct body segments. The larger lower half, the abdomen, bore rows of raised, sharp-edged parallel ridges along the back. Four thin, multi-jointed legs, folded together in the youngest specimens, connected to a bundle of muscle tissue near the center of the abdomen. Two pairs of legs, each ending in three claws, extended from the cephalothorax – one pair for manipulating objects and a second, shorter pair resembling arachnid mandible parts. A vertical slit-like mouth in the center of an ovoid head bore rows of wiry cilia instead of lips, reminding Gate of the long feeding tentacles of Kaiju. Frills of crimson flesh surrounded twin nostril pits above the mouth. The most disturbing features of the creatures were their eyes.

  Unlike the other alien creatures they had encountered, the four, large round eyes set in a diamond pattern contained pupils consisting of a series of concentric rings of muscle acting as irises. As Gate stared into the row of opened eyes, he imagined he saw intelligence behind them. As he shifted position, the eyes followed him.

  Corporal Cantrell glanced into one of the containers and grimaced. “Ugly bastards, aren’t they?”

  Walker pointed to the empty cocoons on the top two rows. “Some have hatched already. I wonder what function they serve?”

  A growing realization brought a shiver to Gate. “I think these are the Nazir.”

  Walker stared at him. “Are you sure? They look like more caretaker creatures to me.”

  “There’s something about the eyes.” Unable to better define what he meant, he shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just imagining things.”

  Walker stared into one of the caskets; then, jumped back in alarm. “They’re awake!”

  “They can see, but I don’t think they’re fully cognizant of us. It’s as if they’re not complete. Maybe they gain intelligence as they move up the tiers and mature.”

  Walker’s voice had a hard edge when he said, “I won’t leave these things here. Cantrell. Reynolds. Wire this place for demolition. Use one-kilo blocks of PVV-5A.”

  The PVV-5A plastic explosives had been a gift of the Russians used in their MON-50 Claymore-type mines. Walker ordered the team to place the explosives along the base of
the incubators and the nutrient tubes feeding them. Gate stared into the closed coffers at the creatures that would become the Nazir, and did not try to stop him. He felt an odd sense of regret at destroying what were essentially alien children, but murder was the reason they had come. Any sympathy he might have had for the Nazir had long ago vanished in smoke like that rising over the destroyed cities of Earth.

  When they had finished, Cantrell grinned and said, “That should fuck them up real nice.” Her eyes bore the bloodthirsty look of a hardened killer. She had been on a Kaiju Killer team and had witnessed what the aliens were capable of. She shared none of Gate’s regrets. For her, it was a blow for Earth, savagery with a purpose.

  “They won’t have left their young unattended for long,” Walker warned. “We’ll blow the room, and then move deeper into the facility.” He looked hard at Gate, as if sizing him up. “It’s going to get tough from now on. They’ll know we’re here. You up to it?”

  As frightened as he was, returning alone to the surface was not a viable option. He needed to see the job through. Some things he could not avoid. Chickening out would haunt him for the rest of his life. He nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Walker set the timers for ten minutes – sufficient time to penetrate deeper into the complex, but not too long to risk an alien guard stumbling over the explosives and removing them. A hundred yards farther down the tunnel, they encountered a shimmering, transparent wall across the width of the corridor. Hundreds of thin tendrils dangled from the ceiling, reminding Gate of the beaded curtain in his college dorm room. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand into the curtain. The tendrils were as rigid as icicles; as well, they should have been at 54.8 degrees Kelvin. The farther his hand penetrated, the more pliable and warmer the tendrils became. He extended a probe through the curtain wall. It registered an atmosphere beyond.

  “It’s some kind of atmosphere barrier,” he told Walker. The Nazir technology surprised him, a mixture of advanced science and bio-tech. “Very ingenious.”

  Gate pushed through the barrier and emerged into an area several hundred degrees warmer than the section of tunnel he had just left. The high heat triggered a red light in his suit panel. He dialed down his suit heater to compensate.

  “It’s 60 degrees Fahrenheit in here,” he said. “We must be getting closer to the heart of the facility.” He checked his instruments. “There is too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere for humans, as well as very little oxygen.”

  Walker checked his watch. “Twenty seconds to go.” Walker began unzipping the insulated bag he carried slung over his shoulder. “It’s warm enough for these.” He extracted one of the A-12 shotguns and inserted the ammo drum. The others began unlimbering their weapons as well. “Remember,” he warned, “with no gravity to hold you down, these things will have a hell of a kick. If you have to fire them, brace yourself against something.”

  With no atmosphere beyond the shimmering wall, they did not hear the explosion in the crèche chamber, but the quaking floor attested to its force.

  “That should raise a few alien eyebrows,” Gate said. He felt less guilt for destroying a Nazir hatchery than he thought he should. The aliens wanted to wipe out humanity. He hadn’t murdered doctors, painters, or philosophers. He had killed a potential army.

  Just as he spoke, the tendril wall turned opaque. Alarmed, he tried to force his hand into the wall. It would not penetrate beyond a few inches. The barrier had become solid. In the distance, a shrill one-note whistle repeated. Gate’s gut tightened. The aliens were now aware of the intruders in their midst.

  Walker hammered at the wall with the butt of his shotgun to no effect. “Damn it! We’re sealed in. I’ll warn Costas.” He tried his suit radio and frowned. “No signal.” He looked around. “We’ll have to abandon the main tunnel.” Gate followed Walker’s gaze to an adit diverging from the tunnel. “Come on. We had better find what we’re looking for and fast.”

  Sealed in the alien burrow, Gate’s expectations of leaving again dimmed. He had waited too late. Now, he could not inform the Assegai of their findings. All he had learned would be lost. That bothered him more than the probability of his own demise.

  “Oh, God!” he heard someone utter.

  He turned to look and saw a horde of Ticks scuttling down the corridor. Gate understood the man’s shock. He remembered his horrible first glimpse inside Kaiju Nusku of the mottled gray, bloated creatures they had named Ticks. They moved on ten multi-jointed needle-like legs. Each rounded, bulldog-sized body ended in a wicked pair of mandibles capable of severing human limbs or ripping open a man’s stomach. He wasn’t sure the battle armor would protect them.

  “Use your weapons to drive them to one side of the tunnel,” Walker called out. “We have to get past them to reach the side tunnel.”

  Walker fired his RPG until empty. Each explosion ripped into the horde of Ticks, sending chunks of flesh and yellow ichor flying in all directions. Gate was glad for the suit air. He remembered the nauseating stench of the dead Ticks from Nusku. The rockets and the gunfire from MP5Ks and AA-12s produced the desired effect, diverting the Ticks, but their numbers increased from a constant flow of reinforcements. As the creatures began climbing the walls, Walker herded his team toward the adit.

  A scream through the com band rattled Gate’s ears. He glanced back to see one of the soldiers writhing on the floor of the tunnel beneath a Tick. Its two-foot-long mandibles closed around the man’s neck, severing his head. Head and helmet rolled across the floor, as the man’s legs kicked wildly in his death throes. Another creature dropped from the ceiling, seeming to float down in the low gravity. More were scampering across the ceiling toward them.

  Reaching the safety of the side tunnel, Gate stopped and fired his HK200L until it was empty. His hands shook too badly to extract the empty magazine and insert a fresh one. Walker noticed his problem and did it for him; then, braced himself and fired his AA-12 into the front ranks of Ticks. The shotgun blasts ripped into the creatures’ unarmored bodies, gouging out handfuls of flesh and splashing blood across the floor and ceiling. The viscous blood dripped from the ceiling in long, slimy strings.

  “Aim for the roof,” he said to Gate. “Try to collapse the entrance.”

  With unsteady hands, Gate aligned the launcher with the ceiling at the entrance to the adit using his suit’s view screen. He pushed the firing stud three times in rapid succession, firing three rockets. The armor-piercing rockets penetrated the rock before exploding. Though packed with low-yield explosives, they possessed enough punch to shatter solid rock. Shards of rock pelted his suit but none pierced the heavy fabric of the armor. A slab of ceiling broke away and collapsed onto the leading line of Ticks, crushing them beneath tons of rock. An avalanche of boulders piled up until they blocked the entrance.

  As Gate stood admiring his handiwork, Walker shoved him in the back. “Move it!”

  Once again, Gate wished for real gravity. The low gravity forced him to consider carefully each step as he bounded down the tunnel lest he slam his head into the low ceiling. He soon reached his stride in a stooped, loping gate. He focused on a light at the end of the tunnel. Abruptly, the tunnel ended on a balcony at the edge of a gigantic cavern. He tried to skid to a stop, but with his running inertia in the low gravity, he slid across the balcony. There was no railing, but he grabbed one of three metal posts marking the edge of the balcony and clung to it.

  He stared down past his feet into a cavern that plunged to a depth of over a quarter of a mile. On the floor of the cavern, rising almost to their balcony level, a dozen Kaiju pods stood on end undergoing final assembly. Rows of low-power red lights ringed the cavern from ceiling to floor, spaced twenty yards apart. A flurry of activity at their bases drew Gate’s attention.

  “Nazir,” he said, spotting mature versions of the strange arthropod creatures from the crèche.

  Some of the hundreds of Nazir carried objects into the pods, while others operated machinery ringing the pods. A h
andful carried short cylinders, using them like torches to seal the pods. A second entrance to one side of the cavern was large enough to admit a full-sized Kaiju.

  “They look like workers,” Walker said. “Hmm. I wonder where the soldiers are. They can’t rely only on the usual assortment of creatures for defense.”

  Despite Walker’s claim, he thought the Wasps, Fleas, and Ticks he had encountered posed sufficient threat to guard the facility. “This must be the final assembly,” he said, as he watched the activity below. “Just what we were searching for.” He pointed to the underside of the ceiling sixty feet above them. “The ceiling is retractable. They launch the pods from here.”

  Walker studied the cavern. “We need to find a way down there to set the nuke.”

  “We can’t go back the way we came,” Gate pointed out, “and I don’t see any stairs.”

  Walker smiled. “We still have our cables. We can rappel down.”

  Gate glanced down into the depths of the cavern and hoped Walker was kidding. “Down there?” Although he had rappelled several times inside Kaiju Nusku, and again to enter the cavern, it still frightened him to dangle from a slender thread.

  “Sure. There are more balconies below this one. We can rappel from level to level. The deeper we go, the more damage the nuke will do.”

  Gate wasn’t sure a few hundred feet would make a difference to a nuclear blast, but he understood Walker’s need to be certain of success. If the Kaiju pods in the cavern were active, it was possible their ebony material could absorb a significant portion of the blast. The closer they were the better. They would have only one chance to end the Nazir threat. They could not afford less than a maximum effort.

  After securing a cable to one of the metal posts, Walker went first down the line. Gate followed. In his mind, he knew descending the cable was no more dangerous than while entering the pit, but the 1,200-foot-plus drop pulled at him. More appalling, at such low gravity, the fall would not be a quick one. He would fall for an interminably long time before hitting the bottom with sufficient force to crush his spine.