The Mammoth Book of Kaiju

by Sean Wallace

  He had tried more than twice a day to reach Athy, but she never answered his calls. It infuriated him that he could not control his impulse to be near her. He was being a fool. Ms Jates had finished with him—she had made that plain before he left for the US. So why could he not put this obsession out of his mind? Why did those few hours they spent together—the sound of her laugh, her eyes, the softness of her hair—keep flooding back into his mind when he had so much more to think about? When they would all soon be dead and every minute wasted was another score of lives lost?

  Once more Mat pushed Athy out of his thoughts and concentrated on the logistics of the project. There was much to be concerned about, yet most disturbing was the trend that Mat was seeing.

  He had expected Linten to send scientists and engineers, but what he was getting was a mass exodus of America’s rich and powerful and their families and advisors, every one hoping to barter a place on the asteroid colony with badly needed supplies. It seemed Linten was busily repaying his election contributors. It was insane.

  The reports from the US were bad. Initially the strike seemed to be effective. Whole sections of the advancing wall had been obliterated and Erebus withdrew—but only temporarily. It soon began advancing again, faster than ever. Soon they would have another type of refugee—the politically powerful. They would be entirely more difficult to shut out. President Yerry and his ilk still controlled enough firepower to wipe Jiuquan off the face of the Earth.

  In less than a week Erebus would have covered the whole of continental USA, a little more than that and the whole continent of America, along with Africa and most of central Europe. The mass of the thing was destabilizing the Earth’s spin. Every few hours brought another tremor, and major earthquakes around the globe were being reported every hour. Earth was shaking to pieces.

  Mat wove through another narrow alley and walked through the huge gaping doorway of US#28, a big industrial building he had been using as his headquarters.

  He could see Trill Bates, with two aides, outside the door to his office, trying to force their way past the two Chinese guards that Tein had assigned to him. Trill saw him coming and immediately set off to intercept, his men close behind.

  Trill was a large man, bald now, with thick growths of wavy gray hair on either side of his shiny dome and a paunch that pushed out across his designer belt.

  “Keterson. I have been trying to see you for two days.”

  Although probably the richest man on the planet, the software trillionaire had become just another face in a sea of self-important men and women, all trying to get inside—to be where the decisions were made, and guarantee that they and not the others would take their place among the precious few leaving Earth.

  They all knew that Erebus was coming. “We received all the components, and the software, Mr. Bates, and we thank you. They will be invaluable.” “But what’s going on? What is the schedule? My family and I have been completely left in the dark.”

  His two advisors, who had not been included in Bates’s impatient demand for safety, exchanged a concerned glance.

  “No one has been told. You will be informed along with everyone else when the time comes.”

  Mat walked towards his offices.

  “Hold on a minute!” blustered Bates, his face flushing red. He reached out to grab Mat’s hand, but the tall scientist easily evaded him.

  The two Chinese guards instantly leveled their rifles, barking out a command.

  Bates did not need to be a linguist. One look at the steely resolve in their faces was enough. Hundreds of people had been shot at Jiuquan. Without ceremony. Without explanation. Tein expected, and received, complete obedience. So far order had been kept, but Mat suspected it would get a lot worse before the end.

  Bates took a breath.

  “I expect to be told as soon as you know anything,” said Bates, although his voice was weak, almost asthmatic as he backed away.

  Mat walked past the two guards and into his office with a sigh of relief. He dumped his notebooks and slimline reader and walked through into his communications room.

  One of the concessions he had been able to wring out of Linten had been the release of his NASA team and their families. Not one of them had been happy at the treatment, but he was sure glad to have them here. Most had been dispersed through Tein’s organization—sorely needed space scientists on a base swarming with non-specialists.

  “What do you have for us, Jereece?”

  The astronomer looked up from his monitor and smiled at Mat. Two other women from his old team were here as well, Yath and Lane. All three were busily analyzing the orbital insertion of a continuous stream of materials, as well as undertaking an overall scenario analysis of the construction in orbit. They needed to know the major problems before they tried to assemble the main colonies. There would be no resupply from Earth, of that there was no doubt. Whatever they got into orbit, they were stuck with.

  “Erebus is still expanding at the same rate, but there is something else. Satellite photos show that it is developing cylindrical growths along its equatorial length. They look hollow,” said Jereece, pointing at the screen.

  Mat leaned forward, concerned.

  “They must be hundreds of meters across.”

  “And there are thousands of them.”

  Mat nodded. “Anything else?”

  “It looks like Erebus’s metabolism is starting to change the atmosphere. The good news is that the increasing carbon dioxide will offset the cooling.”

  “And the bad news?”

  Jereece grimaced.

  “At the rate the oxygen is dropping, we could not survive another month, even if it stopped growing.”

  Mat nodded, resolutely pushing away the slightest trace of emotional reaction. There would be time enough for that when he watched the last rocket blast away from Jiuquan.

  “Oh, one more thing,” said Jereece, brightening.

  “What?” said Mat, cheered to see more of the old Jereece.

  “You have a visitor. She’s waiting for you inside.”

  Jereece jerked his head toward the conference room.

  A few heartbeats later, Mat pushed open the conference room door to see Athy sitting alone inside, an untouched coffee on the table in front of her, busily steaming the room full of enticing volatiles. The no-nonsense outfit was gone in favour of a loose dress of light apricot, patterned with abstract shapes. A long coat was draped across the table.

  The smell of coffee mixed with her faint perfume, and Mat’s breathing grew rapid as he gently closed the door.

  “Athy, . . . . ” said Mat. I didn’t expect to see you again.

  Athy turned and smiled. Her eyes were framed with dark rings of exhaustion, her face pale and without the slightest hint of makeup, as though she had been stripped down to her essential self. Her blond hair was tied back in a single ponytail, but roughly, with wisps escaping the temporary bondage. He was shocked to see streaks of gray. She looked thin. Stress had wasted away the beautiful curves he remembered so well. “Mat, I have been meaning to . . . come and see how you are going.”

  Her hands were shaking, her eyes glassy.

  She laughed self-consciously. “I know. I look a mess. Too many all-nighters. Too many drugs. But who is going to worry about health effects now, hey?”

  The shaking in her body grew worse, until it was a tremor that shook her whole chest.

  Mat was drawn forward. He took her hands, all caution thrown to the wind. “What is it, Athy? What’s wrong?”

  She leapt from her chair and hugged him fiercely, her body fitting neatly into his. “It’s all coming apart. The future, everything . . . I can’t believe it’s come to this.”

  The tremors finally gave way to tears.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to burden you with this, but none of my family got out, Mat. My mother. Father . . . I’m all that’s left. I have been just holding myself together.”

  Mat held her, thinking of his own distant
cousins and relatives, most of whom had died in the first hours after impact. They too were gone. Thankfully he was an only child, and had buried his own parents years ago. He had been spared that shock.

  Athy pushed away from him.

  There would never be another time to say the things he wanted to say. He wanted her desperately, for whatever time they had left.

  “Athy, I love you. I’m sorry if I treated you poorly; you were kind to me.”

  She smiled and wiped her tears away. “And damn my Southern pride. I love you, too, Matrick Keterson.” She frowned, her brow creasing with concern.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She took a breath and fished a small flash drive out of the pocket of her coat.

  “This is the final cut,” said Athy. “Tein wanted to send it with one of his aides, but I wanted to see you.”

  “Are we . . . ?” Are we on the list?”

  Athy shook her head. “I didn’t look, Mat. I don’t want to know. Not yet.” She smiled. “Say, does that door have a lock?”

  Mat was at the door in one stride, fiddling with the tiny mechanism. There was a satisfying click.

  For once Mat’s dexterity did not desert him.

  Ecstatic growth.

  My sharp, tentacle roots have smashed down into the mantle now, piercing the oceanic crust and tasting the delicious magma below. It surges through my diamond veins, a flood of warmth bringing a rich soup of minerals and metals.

  I take up the last of the oceans, filling the cooler chambers of my vastness; I roll across the dry lands, consuming all, taking the precious carbon into my structure. I could not grow without it.

  Strange it is, this planet-bound life. How it flees before me; myriad images flood back through my senses of it running before its own destiny. What thoughts do they have, these little parasites? Do they mourn the loss of their world? Even if they did, should I feel compassion for something so microscopic?

  There are no more hot comets. But I no longer need their warmth to fuel me.

  Nothing can slow me now.

  This world is mine.

  Tein barked an order, and the bunker’s huge blast-shield began to open.

  “When are we being taken to the launching area?” demanded President Yerry.

  Tein turned and smiled genially, but said nothing.

  The room was packed with political leaders and the mega-rich of Earth, all suited for launch. The crowd looked slightly ridiculous in their space suits. Thankfully there had been a surplus of those.

  “Director, Tein, I demand an answer!” shouted Yerry.

  Tein’s guards tensed. Even his own aide, Lieutenant Yoshi Chan, whom he prized for her self-control, reached down to the holstered pistol at her side. Tein caught her eyes and shook his head. His guards took the same cue and relaxed back to attention.

  “President Yerry, I apologize for the delay. But as you know, to coordinate so many launches simultaneously is an extremely complex enterprise.”

  “Tein. My people tell me that the advance wall of Erebus is less than twenty minutes away from Jiuquan.”

  Tein smiled. “My information gives us more than a comfortable hour to launch. Please relax.”

  Yerry seemed convinced, but Hari Wottard, who had become the president’s chief advisor on Erebus, whispered urgently in his ear. Tein had little time to spare for their feelings. He nodded to Lieutenant Chan, who surreptitiously left the room. She would be back soon.

  He walked confidently through the crowd, greeting leaders and other self-important figures with quiet words of praise and encouragement.

  They were in the forward launch bunker, a massive structure created in concrete and steel. Originally it had been a construction area for the old-fashioned chemical boosters, and more recently had been used for launch preparation. Its size, and proximity to the main launch field, made it ideal for his purposes.

  The huge blast-shield—designed to withstand the accidental detonation of a nuclear device being sent into orbit—fell back into place with thud, giving them an excellent view of the launch field. No less than seventy-three heavy-lifters waited outside for departure.

  Tein had completed his circuit of the room and was approaching the US president once more. “President Yerry. I want to thank you and your countrymen for the invaluable assistance you have given. The men and materials you provided have enabled us to meet, and exceed, our goals for the asteroid colony.”

  Yerry nodded in acknowledgment as Tein walked back to the main control panel. He checked his watch. It was time. This had to be timed precisely.

  He stepped up onto a small platform and raised his voice.

  “Through your efforts,” said Tein, waving his arms to include the whole group of multi-national leaders and wealthy capitalists, “you have enabled the survival of Humanity.”

  There was a loud detonation, then another, and then a continuous roar as one by one the massive boosters lifted from the steel platforms of Jiuquan.

  Tein turned to watch, but the light was blinding, pouring in through the big window in a blaze of chemical fire.

  Behind him, Tein could hear the panic, but he shut it out of his mind. Would there be time for one last cup of tea?

  “What the hell is this?” screamed Yerry.

  Tein shielded his eyes against the glare and watched as Chan reentered the room with hundreds of Chinese infantry. He held back tears as he watched his men and women. Not a single soldier lost composure.

  Tein nodded to Chan, who gave an order in Cantonese.

  Five hundred sub-machine guns were cocked in perfect unison. The panic in the room was replaced with a shocked silence.

  Above them, disappearing like fairy-lights into the gloom of the darkened sky, were the last spacecraft to leave Earth.

  Tein cleared his throat.

  “All I ask for now, ladies and gentlemen, is decorum.”

  Yerry’s jaw was slack.

  “But, but . . . you are remaining behind.”

  Tein smiled. He had read Yerry and the others like a book. They had been so sure that he would secure his own place of safety—so sure that he would insert himself in the place of another, more deserving, younger candidate—that they had allowed themselves to be blinded to the truth.

  He looked up at the disappearing lights. His own nephew, Twang, only twenty-three but already a brilliant biologist, was among the chosen few. Tein would survive—at least through him. He only hoped that Twang would honor his memory.

  “Mr. President, T-minus thirty seconds,” whispered Hari Wottard.

  Through the huge window, there was a gust of rank, rotting air. Tein tasted salt on his tongue. It filled the air, stinging his skin.

  Erebus had sucked up every drop of the world’s oceans. It now was the sea of Earth, transformed into one massive, rolling wave of rock and flesh.

  People screamed and pointed out the window.

  A huge, dark wall was approaching them, coming fast. Within seconds it was close enough for the powerful lights of the launch field to catch on it. Tein had heard reports of it from all around the world, so he was ready when it happened.

  All along its length, tens of thousands of lids opened. Suddenly the lights were reflected by a galaxy of eyes, all suspended in that wall of darkness.

  Death was coming, in the myriad guises of their own reflection.

  “And so we kill ourselves,” he muttered in Cantonese.

  “Sir?”

  He looked down to see Chan at his elbow with a cup of tea.

  “Oh, thank you, Chan.”

  Tears glistened on her cheeks as she carefully handed him his plain, yet much-loved cup and saucer. She bowed deeply.

  Tein frowned. “Stand straight. You know I dislike such imperialist traditions, Chan.”

  “Yes, Director. I know.”

  They turned to watch Erebus approach.

  “The eyes! The eyes!”

  The civilians were screaming.

  Indeed the eyes were f
rightening, sweeping down to engulf them. But was this any less frightening than a life spent without purpose? Without moral principle?

  As Tein sipped his green tea he watched the assembled crowd carefully. How very few had cultivated peace of mind. How easily they gave in to panic.

  The saucer clattered softly as he put down his tea cup.

  Erebus was closing on them.

  “Wait,” said Yerry. “They aren’t eyes! They’re mouths!”

  All along its length, the opalescent eyes split across the middle, the upper and lower membranes drawing aside to reveal an awesome set of metallic teeth, grinding together in hungry anticipation.

  Thousands of teeth, each big enough to swallow a multi-story building.

  “Fascinating,” said Tein.

  Then the Eyes of Erebus were upon them.

  Lover, feel my embrace.

  “Mat, we’re receiving a feed via satellite.”

  Mat gave a gentle push and drifted across the cabin toward Jereece’s workstation.

  “My God.”

  Erebus had circled the globe. The long cylindrical tubes that had grown up all along the equator were erupting regularly now, shooting up vast sections of digested mantle and waste material.

  “Do you have an analysis of those gases from the tubes?”

  Jereece nodded. “Yes. They’re the same as the jets we observed incoming, hydrogen and superheated steam. The whole mixture is igniting in the atmosphere. There are more than fifty thousand launches a day. Billions of tonnes, all breaking orbit and heading out into space.”

  Mat snapped his fingers, the sudden movement sending him crashing into the metal hull of the capsule. He stabilized himself with a light touch.

  “It’s a Light Gas Gun,” said Mat. Erebus was digesting the planet, flashing water into steam to super-pressurize a chamber of hydrogen and fire chunks of Earth out into space along those massive tubes. It took a light gas like hydrogen to produce the high muzzle velocity.