by JE Gurley
LaBonner raised his head and let the rain wash over him and run down his face. It was cold and struck with enough force to sting his flesh, but it felt good. The war was over. For the first time in weeks, he felt clean.
30
August 25, Assegai –
The war was over. Walker had a difficult time accepting that. He felt as if he had been fighting Kaiju his entire life, although it had been just over a year. The alien base on Haumea and the entire planetoid were gone, blasted into dust by a combined nuclear and gravity bomb explosion. So were Colonel Sakiri and twenty-six good men and women. A message from Earth reported that the Kaiju had stopped moving.
When he read aloud the message to everyone on the ship, the shouts were tumultuous. An air of jubilation swept through the Assegai. People wept, shouted, and prayed. They were going home after a successful mission, the most important successful mission of their lives. The deaths, though still fresh on their minds, were offset by the lives they had saved on Earth. The Kaiju spread across the globe had stopped moving with the destruction of Haumea. The military was finishing off the remaining Spiders, Wasps, and Fleas, still a daunting task in spite of the lack of coordination among them, but not an impossible one.
When Walker found him, Costas sat on the floor in a corner of the aft module, now firmly reattached to the Assegai. The frown on his face looked out of place among the other rejoicing soldiers. Walker strode over to confront him.
“Why the long face, Sergeant?”
“No broads or booze,” he quickly replied.
“We’re all suffering.”
“Naw. I been thinking,” he admitted.
“That could pull a muscle or two.”
“Ha. Ha. No, I been thinking about the Nazir.”
Curious, Walker asked, “What about them?”
“They didn’t act like any military unit I’ve ever seen. They should have kicked our collective asses.”
Walker had considered the same thing but wanted to see where Costas was going. “But they didn’t.”
“No, and that worries me. Even the lasers they used seemed more like tools than weapons.”
“They weren’t expecting us to attack.”
“They acted more like a bunch of nerds caught with their pants down.” He looked at Walker. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking the same thing.”
“Okay, you’re right. It bothered me too. I think we stopped a commercial venture rather than a military invasion.”
“Huh?”
“What if the aliens were simply a corporation searching for minerals on other worlds? They move in, nullify the local threat, and take what they want.”
“You mean like a hostile takeover, Nazir style?”
“Exactly. It wasn’t as much as an attack as a business venture. Oh, they would have wiped us out, but just as a side bar, not because they wanted us dead. We posed a threat to their venture. We posed no risk to their home world.”
Costas scratched his head. “I’ll be damned. Corporate stuffed shirts.”
“We stopped them. Somewhere, an alien accountant is looking over the books and deciding if Earth is worth the investment. I’m betting it isn’t. I’ll think they’ll cut their losses and try somewhere else.”
“Some fucked up universe. We finally meet aliens, and they’re from Wall Street running a pyramid scheme with us on the bottom. We should teach them a real lesson.”
That had been Walker’s thought. “Somewhere in the data Gate brought back, we might find the location of their home world. If we do, we might pay them a visit to warn them off.”
Costas grinned. “I want in on that.”
“It might be a while. First, we have to rebuild and unite.”
A frown crossed Costas’ face. “That might take some doing. China and Russia might have other plans.”
“Resources for rebuilding are going to be limited. A little nudge in the right place and their citizens might reconsider their restrictive forms of government. There’s no place left for stifling regimes. We all work together, freely, or we won’t survive.”
“You sound like a diplomat. I say drop a few gravity bombs on them and call it a day.”
Trust Costas to be direct. “There’s been enough death. We need to heal first, hearts and minds. Something good may come of all this.”
“If you say so. I ain’t got as much faith in my fellow man. Now, Russian women, that’s different. They’ve got cold faces but are on fire inside. Must be the vodka. You make nice to the Ruskies. I’ll go with you, but I’m looking out for Mama Costas’ number one son.”
“As long as you’ve got my back.”
“Always, Major. Always.”
Walker felt an itch to do something, and he had an idea. They were still eight days from Earth. He went to the bridge to find Gate. He was poring over his notes on the aliens and scanning photographs. He looked up as Walker entered.
“This is a gold mine,” he said. “We can learn so much from this.”
“You’ve got time to study all that later. I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you feel like an adventure?”
Gate frowned. “An adventure? After what we’ve been through?”
“I thought, as long as we’re in the area, we might drop by Mars. What say we pose in front of Mars Rover’s camera for the folks back home? We could pick up a few samples for NASA. Who knows when we’ll get back out here? There’s a lot of work to do back home.”
Gate looked at Worthen. “What do you say, guys? Want to say hi to your friends at Johnson from Mars?”
“Won’t the brass back home have something to say about it?” Worthen asked.
“I’m in command,” Walker said. “Let them hang me.”
Worthen smiled. “I’ll set a course for Mars.”
“What’s next for you, Major?” Gate asked.
“Fishing for trout in Idaho.”
“Really? I never took you for a trout fisherman.”
“Never fished in my life, but a few days of lying on the bank in the sun sounds like heaven.”
“Need some company?”
Walker shook his head. “Not this time. By the time we reach Earth, we’ll all be tired of each other’s company.”
“Earth,” Gate said. “It’s good it’ll still be there waiting for us.”
“You’ll probably be a hero.”
Gate shook his head. “Not me. No heroes here. We left the real heroes on Haumea.”
“Yes, Sakiri and the others. I hope the world doesn’t forget them too soon.”
“Not this time. Someone once told me the world needs heroes.”
“Heroes and heroines,” Walker added. “When the world requires them, someone always steps up to bat.”
“That’s humankind for you, Major. Maybe we’re worth the price others paid. We’ll see.”
“Yes, we’ll see. The aliens caused some damage, but maybe it’s time for the world to change. We as a species have some growing up to do.”
“If the Nazir are out there, other races must be too. Maybe we can seek them out as allies. It might prove mutually beneficial.”
Walker smiled. “Now, there’s a job for you, Wingate Rutherford, ambassador to aliens.”
Gate shook his head. “Not me. I’m too hot-blooded. Ambassadors require a cooler head. I’ll stick with the stars. They’re quieter.”
“I think a lot of people will be searching for some peace and quiet after all this. Find your spot early.”
“Yeah, a three-day jazz festival. That’s what I want.”
“Take Costas with you. He needs some culture.”
Gate chuckled. “Culture and Costas don’t belong in the same sentence.”
“Yeah, but if things ever get rough …”
“I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side,” Gate finished.
“Three and a half days to Mars, Major Walker,” Worthen announced.
“Let’s hope there are no Martians,” Walker
said. “I’m through with fighting for a while.”
The End
Read on for a free sample of Pacific Rising: A Kaiju Thriller
One
Maki followed her parents down the bustling streets of Tokyo. Rain poured in a deluge as people shuffled along the sidewalk. Car horns honked and shoes slapped at puddles. Traffic sat still, car after car, jam-packed like she’d never seen. Shopkeepers were closing early.
Everyone moved in haste, worried about the storm. Afraid.
Rain batted off the rubber hood of her pink slicker. And Maki’s knapsack thumped against her back with each step. Her hood muffled the street sounds. Winds blew hard, impeding her progress. Maki held her mother’s hand tightly and used the larger adult for support to help plod ahead.
“Move out of the way!” her father shouted, trying to clear a path through the throng. He dragged his family along behind him.
“This way, Maki.” Mother pulled her hand.
“Why are we rushing?” Maki said, struggling to keep up.
“Shush now, and move…” Mother pressed ahead. “No time for talking.”
People dashed in sundry directions, with no rhyme or reason to the movement on the sidewalk. Nobody adhered to conventional paths of travel. Everyone shoved other pedestrians, trying to make their way through the city, a mass hysteria of people in flight with panic-stricken eyes. Father paused and wiped the thick lens on his glasses.
“Why doesn’t everyone keep to the side?” Maki complained.
“There isn’t any order.” Father shook his head, dismayed.
“Why not?” Maki kept at him. She was surprised he’d heard her over the commotion, and even more amazed that he’d responded.
“Just keep moving,” Mother interjected.
Maki looked around, confused. She wondered why this storm had spawned such concern. At a tender age of twelve, she had experienced numerous tropical storms and a few hurricanes. This storm hadn’t garnered much consideration at first.
Her mother wasn’t currently working, and her father had taken a much-needed vacation day. They planned to spend the afternoon on a shopping venture, expecting a bit of rain and wind. All of them had dressed for the weather and prepared for a tropical storm.
They’d headed out late morning, and Maki bounced through puddles carefree, splashing them with her rain boots. Her family took a late lunch at her father’s favorite delicatessen in downtown Tokyo. A news station aired on a flat-screen television, mounted to the restaurant wall, and reported on the storm.
When the broadcast zipped headlines across the monitor, her father stood up and headed toward the television. Maki read the words: “Emergency Weather Alert.”
The news station reported on the tropical storm being upgraded to a severe hurricane on short notice. Her father worked as an engineer and came back to the table scratching his bald head, obviously unable to comprehend such a mistaken forecast. Already the ocean kicked up massive waves, and camera crews shot film of rough surf battering the shoreline. The images were ominous, as though the Pacific had come to life and would pound the ancient coast.
Now, her family scrambled through the city, hoping to catch public transportation back to their small apartment in northern Tokyo. Most of the cabs were occupied. Even if they found one available, they’d sit in traffic, like waiting in a parking lot.
People moved along the sidewalk with fearful eyes darting about. The merchants closing shops had dire looks of concern cast on their faces. Maki wondered how wind and rain could stir such alarm.
Even her parents were afraid, and they usually took everything in stride. Her family handled burdens stoically. Hysteria engulfed everyone. And her father pushed his way down the sidewalk, clearing a path for Maki and her mother. Typically non-confrontational, he snapped at people to move it along and get out of the way.
His efforts were futile. A tide had turned and sent a wave of people headed in their direction.
Maki wondered what might happen if they didn’t get to shelter soon.
Then, her father came to an abrupt halt. He looked up past the tall buildings, toward the sky. Maki glanced at the grey overcast, and torrents of rain cascaded on her face, blurring her vision.
A moment later, a ferocious roar resonated amid the far towers, rattling windows.
Something dark and massive shifted beyond the skyscrapers. Through the downpour, she glimpsed the monster near the harbor and understood why people rushed in the opposite direction.
And then a flood washed down the street, hurling people through swelling currents.
****
Earlier, General Yoshi had reported to the command center for the Japanese Self-Defense Forces, eager to learn about recent developments. He’d stood behind a console watching video feed and data recordings, as a lump grew in his throat, and dread engulfed him.
A tremor reverberated along the ocean floor, and rough currents churned over the surface. Ten-foot waves rose and undulated across the Pacific Ocean. Hurricane winds battered the Japanese coastline.
Something broke the surface of the water, and a rock-like shape plied through the turbid waters. The general scratched his chubby face.
Yoshi sighed and pointed at the screen. “Zamera returns!”
“What do you mean?” This from Major Nagasaki.
“A fierce Kaiju,” Yoshi muttered as images returned to mind from his youth, rampaging over the countryside.
“Nonsense,” Nagasaki replied. “Merely an old folk tale.”
Shaking his head, Yoshi pictured the Kaiju nestled at the base of an underwater mountain range, asleep, dormant for decades. Then, the hurricane stirred this pre-historic creature to life.
The shifting of tectonic plates must have brought it out of a decades-long slumber.
Watching the screen, Yoshi figured the Kaiju had fallen into a crevice after it was attacked with a small nuclear weapon in 1965. Perhaps the sea floor had closed around it and put Zamera into a deep sleep. The earth had shifted again, and a major storm brewed in the rough seas, waking the creature.
The rocky form in the water spiked further above the surface, and massive legs kicked in the turbulent current. Major Nagasaki gasped in horror. The head resembled a triceratops, with horns protruding from protective armor.
Stout rear legs and a long tail, its back was lined with jutting plates, stalactites poking in sundry directions. It cut through the water effortlessly. The front legs paddled, shorter, demonstrating the creature was accustomed to walking on hind legs. Claws extended from its limbs, sharp and deadly. The creature’s entire body was covered in dense, protective scales, resembling armor-plating.
The head led to a long muzzle with fangs. A meat eater, the Kaiju blinked its eyes, alert, and no longer groggy from sleep. Yoshi shook his head, alarmed. Hunger obviously churned in the beast’s stomach and drove its every move.
Yoshi feared its appetite could only be satiated through revenge. Battles from the distant past came to mind. The Kaiju had ravaged the countryside while tracked armored vehicles shot it with cannons and rockets, and fighters whizzed through the air, launching missiles. All efforts were to no avail, futile. Only the last resort of a nuclear weapon had driven the monster away.
Now, the Kaiju had returned and swam through rolling waves, headed toward the coastline where it had wreaked havoc many years ago.
Nearing shore, the creature’s jagged back rose from the water, cutting through twelve-foot waves. It swam into the harbor of the city the monster decimated in 1965.
The attack during Yoshi’s childhood had slipped into the distant past, a foggy chimera, which he sometimes doubted ever existed. For a moment, he stood staring at the screen, watching the monster, and everything came rushing back and seemed like yesterday.
The Kaiju moved toward shore, as though it had merely taken an afternoon nap, leaving it punchy and hungry. Still in mind for a fight, it pressed ahead swimming hard against the current.
Spikes protruding from its
back created a wake trailing the monster. The Kaiju encountered boats pitching in the stormy water. It flailed in the violent water, approaching the boats, and batted a large vessel with its claws, ripping striations in the hull. An eerie metallic sound resonated over the equipment in the command room. The ship held together as crew members screamed in fear and agony.
Zamera dove under the water. Then, it swam into a small boat, tossed in the turbulent sea. A pleasure yacht that hadn’t returned to port before the storm, the boat appeared defenseless. The Kaiju bit into the hull and snapped the yacht in half like a toy. Wood splintered in its mouth, along with pieces of fiberglass. Tasting flesh and blood sent the beast into a frenzy. People spilled from the broken hull into the harbor. The Kaiju maneuvered its large head above the water, like a serpent gobbling up the fare.
Then, it swam toward a fishing trawler and knocked the ship out of his path with a swing of its massive head, and a blow with long horns.
A crew of sailors tumbled into the sea, screaming for help, as the vessel went into a roll and capsized in rough waters. Ten- and twelve-foot waves crashed over the sides of the ship, and a fissure ran down the hull, splitting the boat in two.
The Kaiju snaked its head through the water and scooped up sailors who’d fallen overboard. The monster chomped madly, snapping bones and tearing flesh, and then it scarfed them down. Large chunks of human flesh and jagged bone went down the hatch, unchewed, bound for slow digestion. But the Kaiju seemed too hungry to care.
Now, Zamera resumed its journey toward the large city. Tail whipping back and forth, the monster churned through the water, crashing into the broken vessel, bashing the fragmented boat to pieces. Sailors clung to the shattered hull in a desperate attempt to stay alive. The massive tail thrashed again, and sent a chunk of wreckage plummeting toward the ocean floor.
When its stocky legs found purchase on the sandy bottom, the Kaiju lunged upward from the water and propelled a thirty-foot tidal wave hurling towards Tokyo.