Cthulhu Attacks!: Book 1: The Fear (14 page)

[
The press members practically scream questions at the President.
]

I assure you that all questions will be answered. But first I would like to introduce you to my point man on the Cthulhu Project, First Lieutenant Kevin Berry of the United State Marine Corps. Lieutenant?

[
Over the howls of indignation by the assembled press, the newly promoted Berry takes the podium, clears his throat, takes a drink of water from a glass behind the dais, and swallows hard. He looks back at the President, seeming to inquire about what to do with the cacophony, and she gestures for him to go forward despite the mayhem.
]

Lieutenant Berry:
Good afternoon. Um, what happened is that the President was reviewing some images collected by unmanned aerial vehicles being piloted by Air Force personnel. It’s, uh, hard to get a sense of the size of this, this
anomaly
, but if we can put up the still photo capture from the video on the wall screen, please …

[
The black-and-white, now-processed image of what looks exactly like Lovecraft’s monster appears on the enormous screen behind the Presidential podium. The three black eyes, one on each side and one on top of its head perpendicular to the others, look especially soulless and malign at this enhanced size.
]

This picture was taken several hours ago at what the NSA and other intelligence agencies have pinpointed as “ground zero,” if you will, of yesterday’s Event. This is very near Point Nemo, which is the farthest location from any land on Earth. It also happens to be where the famous unexplained “Bloop” sound originated, and also almost exactly where H.P. Lovecraft located Cthulhu’s sunken city of R’lyeh in his famous story “The Call of Cthulhu.”

[
Some reporters laugh incredulously. Others furiously scribble or dictate into their recorders. Still others look on in utter shock and disbelief at what is happening at a
White House press conference
. Others murmur, no doubt questioning their President’s sanity, thinking perhaps that her brain was affected during the Event, maybe permanently
.]

Believe me, everyone—including myself, and I was the one who first made the connection with Lovecraft’s work—is in disbelief about this “Cthulhu theory.” We would think it was a hoax, someone floating an enormous model of a tentacled head in the ocean near R’lyeh—um, I mean near the fictional location of R’lyeh, is what I mean—except that we are still counting the dead in the United States as well as all over the world. No matter whether this is a weird island popping up from an unknown volcano in the area; some kind of terrorist attack; or if it really is an ancient god presciently described in the works of a long-dead horror writer, this object exists at the point from where some unknown new kind of radiation—psionic waves would be my guess—has killed or injured most of the world’s population.

Reporter (jumping in):
Who are you and why is the President allowing you to make official declarations that a fictional monster is killing people?

Berry:
I don’t know if I’m supposed to answer questions …

[
He looks back again at the President, who nods at him, although she is clearly annoyed at the reporter taking advantage of Berry’s inexperience in dealing with the press.
]

Um, okay. I have read H.P. Lovecraft’s work since I was a young teenager. I was the audio-visual tech in the Situation Room, and when this Event’s epicenter and other details were presented, I blurted out that it sounded just like the Old One from “The Call of Cthulhu.” From that point, I have, I guess, become seen as an expert on Lovecraft. Some experts have always suspected that he was a clairvoyant, and in fact he stated that many of his stories were very closely based on dreams he had. He called this his “Dreamworld.” This has all been, apparently, foretold.

Second Reporter:
What is a “psionic wave” supposed to be, and how does it kill people?

[
Berry thinks for a moment, taking another sip of water, then inhales and exhales deeply.
]

Berry:
Um … a psionic wave is a wave … sent out by a mind. Kind of like a psychic wave in telepathy or in telekinesis, you know? If Cthulhu—I mean the anomaly—has an anatomy anything like those of life on Earth, then a being of this size would have a
huge
brain capable of sending out massive psionic waves. Or the waves could maybe be
like
psionic waves but instead of being caused by Cthulhu’s brain, maybe were sent out when he awoke … from his house … um, at R’lyeh … that is to say where, um, the anomaly lives ...

[
Grumbling and unprofessional expressions of incredulity are directed at Berry from the press as he trails off. The President thanks the lieutenant and retakes the podium, glaring angrily at the assembled pool of reporters, photographers, and video operators.
]

Hampton:
Ladies and gentlemen of the press, and I consider many of you respected friends, listen to me: I don’t need you here. You don’t have to be here. As you well know, we have an official video feed and the Emergency Broadcast System. That means I can tell the American people
directly
what we believe is going on and how we are going to fight Cthulhu. If you have anything you want to grumble or if you want to call “bullshit”—and I distinctly heard it from you, Roger Peet of the
Globe
—you can take yourself right the hell out of here. We are in the process of trying to identify and defeat a threat unlike any the human race has ever experienced. So if you have a problem with treating our experts respectfully,
any
problem, leave the room now or this press conference is
over
.

[
She surveys the press with a gimlet eye, actually making some of the reporters lower their eyes to avoid her gaze as if they were naughty students in her high school classroom. Roger Peet stands and speaks as he makes his way down the aisle to the exit.
]

Roger Peet:
You have lost your senses, Madam President. You have lost what used to be an incredible mind.

[
He finishes his trek to the press exit, looks back at Hampton one last time, and leaves the room shaking his head. No one else stirs, and she nods with a grim smile.
]

Hampton:
Well, someone just lost
his
press pass.

[Very
subdued laughter among those remaining.
]

Kevin, come back up for a moment. If you have questions for Lieutenant Berry, please—

[
Hands shoot up, voices call out. President Hampton, standing in an almost motherly fashion next to Berry, selects a reporter.
]

Hampton:
Bill?

Bill:
Lieutenant, is it not a bit coincidental that the world’s most knowledgeable authority on H.P. Lovecraft
just happened
to be working the A/V system in the White House Situation Room?

Berry:
[laughs self-deprecatingly] I never said I was an authority at all! I’m just a Lovecraft fan, that’s all. And practically everybody is familiar with Cthulhu—

Bill:
Is that why you were able to immediately suggest the identity of this anomaly, unprompted, to the President of the United States, her entire Cabinet, and every top military leader in the country?

Berry:
Well, it was an automatic reaction to—

Bill:
I’m sorry, but I have to ask you, Lieutenant—did you create this “still” from drone video to match preconceptions of this ‘space monster’? Or did you, an audio-visual specialist for the Marines, hack into the drones directly and feed them this load of malarkey?

Berry:
I’m—I was—just an A/V tech, not—

Bill:
Madam President, this young man is trying to shape the world’s response to this Event with pictures of creatures from Stephen King books! How can you go along with this obvious hoax?

[
Hampton looks like her head is about to explode in fury.
]

Hampton:
Out!
Bill, get out of this room before I have you removed!

[
The stunned reporter scurries from the room. Berry retreats to his place behind the President.
]

I apologize, Lieutenant.

[
He nods nervously. The President’s face practically glows red with embarrassment and indignation.
]

One more chance, people. I will clear this room and just have my team talk to the American people directly. You lot is not necessary here.

[
Hampton takes a moment to regain her composure and gestures to another team member to step forward.
]

Next, I welcome General Air Force Chief of Staff Harold Wash to share a bit of good news amidst all of the bad. General?

[
The stout General Wash takes the dais and shares his “good news” in a voice so grim that if they hadn’t been explicitly told by the President that this was going to be positive news, the press members wouldn’t have recognized it as “good.”
]

General Wash:
Thank you, Madam President. Just a few hours ago, unmanned aerial vehicles—drones—using infrared technology to survey the outlying areas of Bogotá, Colombia, appear to have picked up signals consistent with those of human beings.
Living
human beings. Using map overlays, we have pinpointed what structures these signs of life—and they are scattered
very
few and far between, with the apparent survivors collected in groups—are inside.

[
Wash clears his throat, obviously gathering himself for what he is about to say.
]

The buildings in which these heat signatures seem to be located almost exclusively … well, coincide with the coordinates we have for local pubs and taverns. These places were probably not very busy at the time of the Event, perhaps explaining the small numbers our UAV operators are detecting. One other kind of establishment with similar signs of life is hospitals. Specifically …

[
Losing all pretense of stoicism, Wash takes a cleansing breath very much like Berry did before continuing.
]

Specifically
, these signals are being found in the mental wards of large hospitals and in various known Colombian lunatic asylums. I know that isn’t the right term anymore, what do you call them now?

[
Reporter in front row murmurs something to Wash, who nods.
]

Oh, right, thank you—that should be “psychiatric inpatient facilities.” Our UAV personnel will be expanding their search for life in South and Central America, but at the moment it seems like subjects who were either intoxicated or suffering from mental illness were, for some reason, spared from the fatal effects of yesterday’s Event. Yes, Maureen?

[
The reporter who had murmured to Wash earlier stands
.]

Maureen:
Does that mean that people can protect themselves from any future attacks by drinking alcohol? Or by going insane?

[
The room lets out a quick laugh. But respectfully so.
]

Wash:
I have no intelligence on the efficacy of that approach. In fact, one would be making a large and unwarranted assumption that people still alive inside of Bogotá’s drinking places were in fact inebriated at the time of the Event. It’s the same with the signals coming from the psychiatric facilities—it could be doctors and nurses for all we know. Everything is in the hypothesis stage right now. We’re not even sure if we should risk American personnel to attempt the extraction of any people alive down there since they would then themselves be inside the “kill zone.”