by JE Gurley
Cantrell, Ramirez, the pilot, and the weapons specialist cycled through the airlock. “The module is secured, sir,” Cantrell reported to Walker.
“Thank you, Corporal. Take us out of here, Blivens.”
The only indication of movement was the rapidly shrinking Haumea in the view screen. Within minutes, the Assegai was 100,000 kilometers distant from the planetoid and her two moonlets.
“Hold position,” Walker said.
“The other Lances are on their way here,” Worthen reported. “Colonel Sakiri is making a run at the planet to launch his missiles.”
Gate’s chest tightened with apprehension. So many things could go wrong.
“The colonel reports missiles fired. Detonation of all devices in thirty seconds.”
The Lances appeared around the ship. Gate noted their dwindled numbers. He knew now that the hours he had spent study the Kaiju had been worth it. His familiarity with the Nazir technology, as limited as it was, had allowed him to neutralize the pods around Haumea, thereby saving lives. He wished he could do the same for the Kaiju on Earth.
“Fifteen seconds.”
Gate willed extra speed to Colonel Sakiri’s ship. He was cutting it close. Gate barely listened to the countdown; then, scores of bright flashes burst into existence around Haumea, too many to count, the Kaiju pods exploding. A cheer went up on the bridge, but he still held his breath. Moments later, a larger explosion blossomed on Haumea.
“That probably shattered the planet,” Worthen said.
“No,” Blivens countered, “but it –”
A second, much brighter flash blinded them. The lights in the cabin flickered. Gate felt as if the deck had turned to Jell-O. He tried to move, but his feet mired in the deck with his first step, and then bounced with the next. His ears screamed from the blood rushing through them, and his stomach crawled up his throat with tiny dagger fingernails. The sensation passed as quickly as it came, leaving him disoriented and queasy.
Blivens, overcome by nausea, leaned over by his console and vomited.
“The explosion detonated a gravity drive,” Renatto said, as he checked ships systems for damage. “I think we were far enough away. Systems returning to normal.”
“What about Colonel Sakiri?” Walker asked.
Worthen checked his screen. His voice cracked, as he announced, “Haumea is gone. So are her two moons.”
“Gone? What happened?” He confronted Blivens. “I thought you assured the colonel that the nukes wouldn’t affect the gravity drives.”
Blivens looked up at Walker, wiping spittle from his mouth. His face was ashen. He looked almost in shock. “It, it shouldn’t,” he stammered, taken aback by Walker’s ire.
Worthen intervened. “An inactive gravity drive is safe. There must have been an active gravity drive on the planet. We didn’t think to check for one after the pods became inactive.”
Gate thought he knew the answer, and he didn’t like it. “They use a gravity drive for communications. I thought I shut down all communications. I must have only killed the link to the Kaiju pods. It’s my fault.” Walker and Blivens stared at him, Walker with disbelief and Blivens with relief that the blame had passed from him. Gate wished he had a corner he could hide in. “If I had checked to see if the Kaiju on Earth had been affected, I would have known.” He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“No,” Walker said, shaking his head. “This all happened too quickly. No one has contacted Earth since we lost you and the others after the blast. It’s not your fault. It’s an unforeseen consequence of events, which I set in motion. I told the colonel to blast the planet. If anyone is at fault, it’s me.”
Walker looked around at the people on the bridge. Gate saw such remorse in his gaze; he wished he could have offered him some comfort, but no one could relieve his guilt, deserved or not.
“You were willing to let me off the hook,” he said. “You can’t hang yourself out to dry in my place. It happened. We have to move on.”
“Inform the Lance crews what happened, if they haven’t already guessed by now. Make sure they’re all okay; then, bring them in and let’s go home. We’re done here.”
On the view screen, the fireball had died away, but the consequences of the massive explosion were still expanding. Haumea and her two moons were shattered. The rings were gone, vaporized by the blast. A gravity ripple moved outward from the blast’s epicenter, nudging rocks and chunks of ice slightly out of their eons-old orbits. The full effect of the explosion’s aftermath would be impossible to determine for years. All the maps of the Kuiper Belt were now useless. An entire new field of astronomy would open up, but Gate wanted no part of it.
Any trace of alien technology in or around Haumea was gone. All he had left was a few photographs and a handful of technology scraps in a polyester bag. Of course, there is more than enough Nazir technology on Earth. He hoped he had discovered something useful in the battle against the Kaiju ravishing his world.
29
August 23, Texas City, TX –
LaBonner’s fixed his gaze on the two giant Kaiju lumbering northwards toward Houston. He paid scant attention to his surroundings. The ripped-up asphalt of the roadway, the smashed houses, and the crushed automobiles were simply markers to guide his path, as if he needed such things. The two Kaiju were clearly visible just a few miles ahead, but his team could not close the gap between them, and their chopper had gone down with its entire crew saving their lives. The laser-armed Spiders had moved north ahead of the Kaiju, and the Wasps were south around Galveston. His greatest fear was that the military would decide to use a nuclear option, a much larger response than the small nuclear-tipped rockets they carried. His team was the scalpel, and the military was leaning toward a hammer.
“There’s a truck,” Brewsley said, pointing to a used Chevy F-250.
“Check for keys. See if it will crank. Vance, check our ammo.” LaBonner checked his weapon. “I’ve got half a mag and two extra.”
LaBonner next decision could doom them all, but he saw no other option. Stopping one Kaiju wasn’t enough. They had to stop both of them.
“Vance, look for a second working vehicle. I want you to take Agnew, Hawthorne, and Thompson. Your target is Kaiju Number Two, on the right. The rest of us will attack Kaiju One. We’ll coordinate our attacks by radio.”
Vance stared at him. He knew what the sergeant was thinking. As close as the two Kaiju were, even a small nuclear blast would probably take out both teams. Two blasts made it a near certainty. If they did not get a firing solution that included both creatures simultaneously, they would have to settle for one, thereby ending the opportunity at the second Kaiju. If they got lucky and the two Kaiju separated as they approached Houston, their odds improved, but so did the chance that the brass would become proactive and beat them to the punch. Either way, the odds were not in their favor.
“Good Kaiju hunting,” Vance replied, as he walked away to check their ammo.
He’s a good man. I wish I had a better plan to offer. LaBonner had known when he volunteered for the Kaiju Killer Teams that it was a suicide squad, but that each victory hastened the end of the war with the Nazir. He thought it was worth it. He and Vance had survived their Kaiju kills and three battles with Spiders. They were both pushing their luck, and Vance knew it.
“Chevy’s running,” Brewsley reported a few minutes later. “Sergeant Vance found a Miata.” He smiled. “He said it was the perfect Kaiju hunting vehicle.”
LaBonner glanced at the car, saw the barrel of the M60 protruding from the rear seat, and smiled. “He would. Load your launcher and whatever ammo Sergeant Vance can spare into the truck. You and I are going Kaiju hunting.”
Brewsley’s face grew grim. “It’s why we came after all, isn’t it?”
So many good men have to die. So many have died. “Let’s see if we can raise some hell.”
The Kaiju Vance’s team pursued strode toward Texas City. LaBonner assumed it would follow Galveston Bay n
orth into Houston’s eastern neighborhoods. LaBonner’s creature took a northwestern course that would take it through Santa Fe, Alvin, and Sugarland on Houston’s southwestern side. He drove up I-45 until he reached Main Street in La Marque, cutting across to Hwy 6 in hope of closing the gap with the Kaiju. The pod landing to the south had shaken and damaged the town’s buildings, creating large cracks in the streets. The authorities had hastily evacuated the residents before the Kaiju emerged from the pod. The Kaiju had bypassed the heart of the city, but the Spiders had not. Buildings and cars still smoldered from laser blasts. He saw no bodies, but after witnessing a Kaiju feeding, he doubted he would.
Reaching Highway 6, he was dismayed to find what had once been a state highway had become a broken ribbon of asphalt. The impact quake had cracked and shattered the asphalt, creating wide gaps in some places and ridges of buckled asphalt in others. He swerved around giant potholes and bounced over others, mouthing a silent prayer he didn’t kill them in a rollover before they could catch it. He dodged burning wrecks and downed power poles. He took to the front lawns of one row of houses where the road became impassable, tearing through white picket fences and hedgerows. A narrow bridge across a bayou had partially collapsed, but it held the truck’s weight, although it creaked ominously as they crossed.
If the Spiders followed in the Kaiju’s wake, he and Brewsley had no chance of surviving. They could not fight off dozens of Spiders armed with lasers. However, if the Spiders were traveling ahead of the creature, they might get a clear shot at it. He tried to shake the images of pursuing Kaiju Paris for three days, losing most of his team along the way and the remainder at the end of the chase. This time, he had lost half his team in less than an hour. He hoped it was not a continuing trend.
They passed dozens of smashed cars, demolished buildings, and flattened homes. A Suzuki motorcycle laid crushed beneath a fallen billboard, the bloodstained asphalt bearing witness to the driver’s fate. Flames and billowing black smoke shot into the air from a gas station destroyed by the creature’s passage. In the parking lot, an overturned tow truck lay half atop a smashed station wagon.
The cities of Santa Fe and Alvin had fared no better than La Marque. Both areas looked as if pounded by saturation bombing. Entire city blocks were mounds of smoking debris. Fires raged through neighborhoods. The Kaiju was intent on doing the most damage possible in its trek north to Houston. They passed small groups of people, survivors of both Kaiju and Spiders, milling about the wreckage in various states of shock. He felt sorry for their plight but wondered why they had refused to evacuate. Were they the same people who remained during a hurricane? Did they see the Kaiju as just another natural storm to endure? One man wearing only his underwear, oblivious to his state of dress or his surroundings, sprayed water from a garden hose onto the remains of his home totally engulfed in flames. It was a futile effort, but he persisted as though he made a difference.
Am I like that man? Am I making a difference, or am I simply fooling myself? LaBonner gritted his teeth and pressed the accelerator harder. No, I have made a difference, and I will again. I will stop this monster. He refused to believe otherwise, for in the face of such an enemy, doubt would eat away at his confidence.
Just south of Sugarland, the Kaiju turned northeast toward the heart of Houston. The heavy rain half-obscured it, as it stomped its way across neighborhoods, leaving carnage in its wake. Just south of Sam Houston Parkway near Fondren Gardens, the Air Force finally made an appearance. Squadrons of F-18s streaked through the dark sky. Their target was not the Kaiju, immune to the tiny stings and pinpricks of conventional weapons, but rather the Spiders presaging its arrival by seeking out stubborn survivors and destroying everything in their path.
He swerved the truck to avoid a wrecked car and bounced over a fallen streetlamp post. Beside him, Brewsley slammed his head into the roof.
“Slow down,” he cautioned. “You’re going to wreck us.”
LaBonner nodded but he did not reduce speed. However, he did focus his attention on his driving. They were gaining on the Kaiju, now only a few blocks ahead of them. To each side of them, he noticed Spiders burning houses and buildings, the lasers on their backs bright flares briefly illuminating the storm-dimmed light. The rain had become a torrent, running through the streets. The truck splashed through deep puddles, throwing sheets of water onto the windshield faster than the wipers could remove it. At the last moment, he saw a mangled bicycle in the street. With no time to avoid it, he barreled over it. A sickening crunch resounded through the truck, as metal pierced metal. The transmission rattled like dice in a cup before the truck shuddered and finally stopped.
“I guess we walk,” he said to Brewsley, who tried his best not to say what he was probably thinking. “Grab the launcher. Let’s do this before it’s too late.”
Even as he said it, he knew it was too late. The Spiders had moved closer. It would not be long before they spotted them. The Kaiju had stopped moving. It stood like a black cloud over the suburbs. Only the heavy downpour prevented the city around it from becoming an inferno.
“Why isn’t it moving?” Brewsley asked.
“Who cares? Maybe it used all its energy. This rain and cloudy sky isn’t allowing it to collect solar energy. That’s good for us. Makes the job easier.”
He had not convinced Brewsley any more than he had convinced himself. Although the Kaiju was stationary, the Spiders were not. They would remain in the area. They would be lucky to get within two blocks of the creature.
Almost as if his thinking of them had conjured it into existence, a Spider stumbled from the ruins of a building and crossed the street only yards from them. It paused, fixed them in its cold-eyed gaze, but strangely, did not attack. Instead, it turned and raced up the street away from them.
“Well, that’s different,” Brewsley said.
“Yeah. I wonder why it didn’t attack.”
Farther away around the Kaiju, the battle for Houston had not relented. F/A-18E Super Hornets swooped dangerously low over buildings and aerials to drop their payloads of CBU-87 Combined Effects Munitions on Spiders. Each cluster bomb delivered over 200 bomblets. At low altitude, the bombs spun slowly on their way down, covering less than 10,000 square feet in an effort to reduce destruction to private property and save lives. Puffs of smoke marked the explosions before the sound reached LaBonner. He hoped no one living had been beneath the canopy of destruction.
Twin laser beams raked one Hornet as it pulled out of its dive. Smoke billowed from its starboard engine. The pilot banked the craft sharply in a losing battle to keep it level and in the air. Then, all control lost, it turned upside down and crashed into a strip mall. A fireball rose from its grave.
A second wave of Hornets emptied their M61 20mm nose canons into the Spiders. He cheered them on. The more Spiders the Hornets took out, the easier their job to destroy the Kaiju.
“We have to move fast.”
Brewsley knew what he meant. When the jets cleared the area, the next explosion might be nuclear. They had to stop the Kaiju first. He contacted Vance.
“Team One Zulu to Team Two. Come in, Vance.”
Over the crackling of static, he heard Vance’s voice muffled by nearby explosions. “We can’t get close to the target. It’s too far out in the bay. Repeat. No go on Target Two. Surrounded by Spiders. Blackhawks are keeping them back for now, but we can’t break out.”
That was unwelcomed bad news to LaBonner. They could not coordinate their attacks, but he could not wait. They would have to settle for one Kaiju. “Dig in. We’re going for Target One.”
“Roger that,” Vance replied. “Maybe our target will come in closer. It’s just standing there in the bay out of range.”
“Roger, we’ll … Repeat that last.” He knew he had missed something important.
“Target Two immobile in the bay. No shot.”
“Roger. Thanks. Over.”
He looked at Brewsley, an idea forming in his mind. “Why aren’t th
ey moving?”
“Yeah, that was my question, remember.”
“Sorry I dismissed you. This could be significant. Why haven’t the Spiders attacked us? That one Spider clearly saw us but ran off. Why haven’t more Spiders shown up?”
“Got me there. They did just shoot down a Hornet.”
“Yes, but it had attacked. Maybe they’re still capable of self-defense.”
LaBonner was unsure of his next move. He was afraid he was grasping at straws, reading more into events than was there. All logic told him to take the shot before the Kaiju started moving or the Spiders regrouped, but his instinct told him to wait. This was not like earlier when the Kaiju standing by the pod were arming the Spiders. They had stopped midstride, as if waiting for orders. The Spiders were not acting in any coordinated way. He thought he knew the answer.
“The team on Haumea must have accomplished their mission. Do you remember how the Kaiju stopped moving when Colonel Langston destroyed the communications pod on the moon? This is like that. I think they’re without guidance and are waiting for orders.”
“Seems like the best time to kill it before it starts moving again.”
Brewsley was right, but he didn’t want to lose any more men. Enough people had died following him. “If I’m right, maybe the war’s over.”
Brewsley stared at him. “Over?” He glanced around at the destruction surrounding them. “Over,” he repeated, mouthing the syllables slowly, as if tasting them.
“Over.” Saying the word gave LaBonner a strange sense of relief. Even if the Kaiju had stopped, the battle wasn’t over. The Spiders, Fleas, and Wasps remained. Even without direct control, they were still dangerous, but without the Kaiju as base support, they were a minor problem. He watched a Hornet fire four AGM-65 Maverick missiles into a mob of Spiders a block away. They accepted their fate without returning fire with their lasers. It was a good sign.
“Let the Air Force handle this one. They can launch a nuclear missile from a safe distance.” He shrugged. “If that doesn’t work, we go inside and blow it like Colonel Walker did.”