Kaiju Rising: Age of Monsters (14 page)

Andrea drew a deep breath and nodded.

Will closed his eyes, trying to stay calm.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Andrea said.

Gerry grinned and leaned into his controls. “It’s go time!”

KRASER lumbered forward, Andrea timing its approach so it was Grimmgarl on top of the roll when they reached the struggling pair. She and Gerry maneuvered the stubs of KRASER’s arms and shoved them between Ausum and the beast, stopping their motion. Grimmgarl squirmed and screeched at the unexpected interference, but the robot had her. KRASER slid her arms under the creature until the two forearms clanged together.

“Lock them,” Andrea called out, and Will followed through.

A metallic hum sounded inside the cabin as the arms became one, servos sliding gears together until both limbs were joined
at the forearms.

“You sure you want to do this?” Gerry asked. “Last chance to back out.”

Andrea shook her head. “It’s all we’ve got.”

Gerry nodded and opened the rear escape hatch. “Then take a walk while I take care of business.”

“Screw you,” she told him. “My plan, my responsibility.”

“There’s no way I’m letting—”

Will’s huge frame appeared between them. His hands yanked Gerry’s harness open and had him out of the chair before he could complain. Andrea gasped and released her own belt, but before she’d even slipped out of the chair, Will had tossed Gerry through the hatch. Gerry screamed as he fell away, a parachute flaring to life within seconds.

“What the hell are you doing?” Andrea shouted.

Will grabbed her arms and spun her around with ease. “If I make it, you owe me a stiff drink.”

With that, he threw Andrea after Gerry. She watched the hatch slam shut as she landed on the ground alongside Gerry.

Will flipped on a speaker, speaking to the Colonel. “Better move your ass. I don’t think you want to come with us.”

Ausum scrambled out from beneath the thrashing Kaiju as KRASER stepped back, dragging the beast with it.

“Don’t do this,” Andrea screamed. Gerry stood beside her in stunned silence.

“Too late,” Will said, the words nearly drowned in the sudden wash of roaring engines.

Dust whirled up around them as Colonel Ausum slid his giant hands in front of Andrea and Gerry to keep the whipping debris from, striking them. Andrea peered through the cracks of the Colonel’s fingers as KRASER’s boot jets roared, flames spewing from beneath. Before she knew it, the robot shot into the air, carrying the massive alligator with it.

Andrea barely heard herself shout a desperate plea as she watched the mech and Kaiju fly higher and higher until they were nothing more than a black speck in the hazy sky.

“How far are they going?” Gerry asked, his hand cupped over his eyes,

Andrea stared off after them. “The rockets have enough juice to get him into the lower atmosphere, maybe a little further.”

Gerry’s head snapped her direction. “Do you really think he’d…?”

The question trailed off as Andrea nodded. “Anything less and Grimmgarl will shrug it off.” Even then she wasn’t sure.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group as they stared off into the blank emptiness where Will and the giant beast had just been. Andrea tried to think quickly—was that going to be high enough?

“Is that them?” Ausum asked, pointed upward.

Andrea followed his finger and spied a tiny darkness. It grew larger as she stared, her heart pounding in her chest. It
was
Will.

KRASER plummeted toward earth, sunlight gleaming off its steel frame. Andrea could recognize the darker shape of Grimmgarl still clutched in the robot’s arms, writhing around to get free. The pair plunged back towards the ground, jet boots flickering on and off in one direction. It was clear they weren’t landing anywhere near where they’d taken flight.

“Where the hell is he going?” Gerry asked.

“Leading her away from the city,” Andrea answered, pride tinting the gloom in her voice. Will had steered KRASER toward the airport, the robot and Grimmgarl careening towards one of the runways. “It’s not the fall that kills you...”

Moments later the robot and the Kaiju crashed, their impact sending shockwaves across New Orleans.

~

Andrea stood beside the wreckage of the robot, tears in her eyes. Gerry was beside her and Colonel Ausum hovered at their backs. He’d carried them across the city to where KRASER had crashed, but there was seemingly nothing left to be done.

The robot laid in a shattered heap, parts and pieces strewn across the tarmac. Andrea feared the worst, feared that his machine would be his resting place. But against all odds, Will was still strapped into his chair inside what was left of the cabin. He was covered in blood, his limbs clearly broken in several places. Will might never walk, or do much of anything again, but he’d lived. Gerry and Andrea huddled around Will, his breathing labored. That was enough for them both, who felt relief as they turned to see what was left of the Kaiju.

Grimmgarl had fared only slightly better. The beast’s back was twisted and mangled, its lower half torn nearly off and turned backwards so that it rested upon the creature’s skull. Foul guts littered the runways and had repainted the terminal in rancid greens and blacks. The smell was overwhelming, but Andrea couldn’t bring herself to care. They’d won, but at almost too high a price. And while they’d dodged a bullet with Will stubbornly refusing to die, there was more to come. Andrea hadn’t forgotten what they’d done, what price their
victory
had come at.

The sirens that had howled for the last fifteen minutes closed upon the airport, a single car screeching to a halt at their backs flanked by ambulances. Gerry slumped against the cabin walls, still watching Will breathe in shock.

“He is a true teammate,” the Colonel said as footsteps stamped en masse toward them.

“Excuse me.”

Someone came up alongside them, and Andrea saw a giant of a man in a beige suit appear. He tugged at his green tie. “Pardon me, are you Nadler and Jenkins?” His hair was an unruly mess, more like white moss than hair.

Andrea nodded. “That’s us. You here to arrest us?”

The man looked at them befuddled. “Arrest you? I think not. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Harg. I’m here to offer you and your crew a job.”

“Are you fucking blind?” Gerry shouted. “A third of our crew is crippled for life and our robot is right there with him.”

Mr. Harg gave a solemn nod. “My condolences for Mister Taswell’s condition, but the ruin of your mech is
exactly
why I’m here, Mr. Nadler.” He tossed a thick manila envelope to Gerry while medics slipped by and started to cut Will free of his restraints. “I’m here to do everything I can to ensure the three of you and your robot continue to do the job you’re best suited for: fighting Kaiju.”

Gerry went slack-jawed. He just stare
d at the man. “But Will is—”

“Let my doctors worry about him. There are new procedures for men in his state.”

Andrea was more curious than anything. “What’s the catch?”

“Only that you three continue to put up a fight against the other Kaiju.” Mr. Harg’s smile was gentle. “That’s the only point I must insist on.”

The wail of sirens grew even louder as an army of police and military vehicles roared to a stop a short distance from the ambulances.

Andrea motioned to them as the officers and soldiers spilled from the trucks and vans, guns drawn. “Well, you’ll need to keep us out of jail if you want us to fight Kaiju.”

Mr. Harg glanced over his shoulder at the approaching men and smiled. “I’m sure I can manage something.”

The Serpent’s Heart

Howard Andrew Jones

For a night and a day we had drifted, and we five had but two sips left in our waterskin. The calm waters stretched to every horizon, lapping gently at the side of our boat, now green, now blue. The tropic sun blazed down.

We spoke sometimes of the hope for a ship, for we floated along one of the caliphate’s most frequented trade routes. Mostly, though, we were silent and morose, thinking of the friends who had drowned within sight of us, and wondering if we would live to set eyes upon our homes. I’d always thought it likely I’d perish at my friend Dabir’s side, but had expected to meet my end warding him from some enemy. All of my skills were useless against thirst and the relentless sun.

The temperature finally eased a few degrees as daylight died. And then the black ship sailed up out of the twilight gloom.

It was a long, high vessel with four square masts. I had never seen its like, and felt a strange foreboding. The cook swore under his breath and whispered darkly of evil djinn.

The first mate, a sturdy black by the name of Ghassan, cursed him to silence. My friend Dabir, in his calm, reasonable way, explained this must be a vessel from the land of Chin. He pointed out the even horizontal lines that divided the sail, which he said was typical of their
junks
, though he admitted he’d never imagined they were this large.

“Still,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling, “so great a ship should have plenty of extra water.”

His good spirits soon had all of us waving our arms and shouting in joyous anticipation, even the surly cook, who’d sprained his ankle when he dropped into the boat.

The vessel tacked towards us and our laconic helmsman spoke at last, joking that even foreign fare would be better than our cook’s, which provoked a round of nervous laughter. It being near to the evening prayer, I led us in hurried devotions while that black ship drew ever closer.

My apprehension grew stronger as it neared. Though the ocean had never been my home, I was, by those years, no stranger to sea craft. Yet I’d never seen one with such a high rising stern. Huge red eyes were painted on the pointed prow, which lent it a monstrous aspect made all the more disquieting because of the steady metallic clank somewhere deep within the hull. As its ebon shadow fell over us, the craft seemed less a ship than a predator with a steel heart.

I counted fifteen silhouettes along the high rail but couldn’t make out any faces. The helmsman wondered aloud whether they thought us threatening.
Surely so many men would not worry over so few. It is true that we looked a little rough. In the mad scramble to abandon ship we’d lost our turbans, and so many hours in the rowboat had left our robes disheveled and stained. The cook was a bit paunchy, but helmsman and mate were hardy sailors; and Dabir and I were both in the prime of life. Though Dabir was a lean scholar, and some gray had touched his spade beard, he did not look a weakling. And as for me, well, as my wife would have told you, I was a striking figure of a man. But we were clearly in need of assistance.

Besides, if those aboard meant us harm, we could make little but a brave noise, for I alone had retained my sword. The others carried only knives

A broad figure leaned against the rail and called down to us, his voice deep and clipped with the accent of Chin folk. “Who are you, and what are you doing?”

Even I knew this was not the customary way to hail a vessel at sea and our sailors exchanged worried looks. The speaker sounded inordinately suspicious, as if we might somehow conceal a horde of pirates in our open boat.

Dabir lifted his hands to his mouth, forming a speaking trumpet. “Our own ship was destroyed,” he called up. “We are the only survivors. Can you help—”

The man’s voice remained wary. “Destroyed by what?”

Dabir hesitated only a moment. “A great fish.”

I would have described it as a vast demon serpent, although I suppose Dabir was accurate to a point. He likewise neglected to mention how the monster had smashed our vessel with its huge armored head until the ship buckled, like a warrior with a broken back.

At Dabir’s words excited chattering broke out all along the rail, but as I do not speak any tongue from Chin, I could not understand them.

“What are they saying?” I asked Dabir

Even in the dimming light there was no missing the droll look he gave me.

“Well,” I said defensively, “you speak all sorts of languages.”

“Aye, and you eat all sorts of foods. That doesn’t mean you can cook them.”

I would gladly have retorted with something clever, save that nothing occurred to me.
Besides, a new figure had thrust past the others and now gripped the rail. Someone slender, and my suspicion was confirmed the moment the woman leaned out and addressed us. Her accent less pronounced than that of the man.

“How long ago did the monster attack?” Her voice was tense and commanding. “Is it near?”

“A day and a night past,” Dabir relayed. “We may have driven it off,” he added, for she was looking now to her ship’s stern, almost as though she expected the great beast to pop up from the waves and start gnawing. “We wounded it severely.”

Those words gained her full attention. Though I could not see her eyes, I felt the strength of her gaze fasten upon Dabir. “How did you do that?” she asked.

“If you wish to hear more,” my friend answered, “perhaps we could discuss matters aboard your ship.”

A bare pause was quickly followed with warmer tones. “But of course. We would have welcomed you in any case. Dewei, put the ladder overside so that our guests may join us. We will haul up your boat as well,” she added

She stepped from the rail, and the fellow she’d named as Dewei began barking orders to the rest of the crew in the language of his people.

“I’d have liked it better if she’d been swifter to offer help,” I said.

“I’m surprised she wasn’t more skeptical of my claim,” Dabir told me quietly. And at my questioning look he explained: “She knows of the monster.”

I wasn’t entirely sure how he knew that, but before I could ask, the lanky helmsman interrupted.

“For myself,” he quipped, “I’d have liked it better if her ship didn’t look like it’d been coughed up from hell and painted by Iblis, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Ghassan shushed him.

Dewei let down the rope ladder. I sent the cook up first, and Ghassan went close behind, to steady the fellow should he have trouble with his bad ankle. The helmsman went after, and then me.

My legs were stiff after sitting so long within that boat, and I stretched as well as I could whilst climbing the high side of that black ship. Now that I was beside the hull I heard not just one loud clanking, but others besides, as though mad musicians, bereft of drumskins, kept time by beating pipes together.

The weather deck resembled none I had ever seen. Long metal tubes projected out from various holds, and some of them moved up and down, letting off puffs of noxious steam that smelled of foul eggs. Also there were sharper chemical odors, and chains affixed to clanking winches. Lanterns hung upon masts and dangled from the nearest spar, and by their light I discovered that the majority of the crew were folk of Chin, although their numbers were sprinkled with a few Arabs and Indians. In amongst all the strangeness was the faint cluck of chickens, for the crews of ocean going ships cannot subsist solely on preserved foods.

Dewei proved a massive fellow who wore his hair tied back from his broad forehead. His narrow eyes fell immediately to my sword, and he demanded I relinquish it.

“Nay,” I told him. “I guard Dabir.”

“You will give up the sword,” Dewei instructed me imperiously, “or die.”

I smiled at him. “Then we will die together.”

At that moment Dabir reached the deck. I would have stepped to offer him a hand, but Dewei and I were gauging one another.

“If he is the captain’s bodyguard,” the woman’s voice said from somewhere in the gloom, “let him keep the sword a while longer.”

This sounded reasonable enough save for that final phrase. Dewei bowed his head to her and she drew closer.

The woman of Chin was petite and spare, wrapped in a scarlet robe, and lovely in a severe way. I would tell you of the beauty of her almond eyes, but their fine form was undercut by a calculating coldness. Do not think I demean the wit of women, for Dabir’s wife could talk rings around me, and my own Najya was shrewder than I in many affairs. What I mean is that she was one of those who gauged everything in sums and balance sheets, be it beast or man.

“I am the Lady Xin,” she told Dabir. “You will dine with me, Captain, and tell me how you wounded the monster. Your man can go with the others of lesser station. They will be cared for, I assure you.”

“Captain Asim’s station is as high as my own,” Dabir told her, and for a man with untamed hair and a bedraggled robe he managed a great deal of dignity.

“He is captain? Not you?” she asked.

“He was captain of the vizier’s guard,” Dabir continued, “and has often sat at the right hand of the caliph himself. I am the scholar Dabir ibn Khalil, and it has been my fortune to be likewise favored.”

Once more her eyes fell to me, and then back to Dabir. “So the ship’s captain…”

“Drowned or devoured, Lady Xin,” Dabir told her.

“It was Dabir’s plan that lured, then harmed the monster,” I told her. “The ship’s captain but followed his orders.”

“Very well,” she said. “Dewei, have the others tended below, then join us. And get under way as soon as their boat is pulled aboard.”

Dewei bowed formally to her, then moved off without so much as another glance at me or Dabir.

Ghassan and the others looked a little nervous, but Dabir advised them to stay together, and go with God.

“Yes, honored one,” Ghassan said. “Come on lads.” He made a brave show of following a beckoning sailor, and the helmsman lent a shoulder to the cook. I did not like this but had grown accustomed to the separation of folk by class and station when nobles were involved.

A wizened Chinese servant led us after the woman and up a long gangway. We passed a burly helmsman, and then Dabir and I were directed into a tiny cabin back of him. The ship rose higher yet, at least two decks, to that ridiculously high stern.

We found ourselves in a dainty water closet, complete with a cushioned toilet and a wash basin and two large pitches of water. The servant mimed for us to wash hands and faces and gestured likewise to some scented soaps lying upon a shelf before he left us.

Dabir and I cleaned up as best we could. We might have accomplished more had we not simply drunk two thirds of the water before we even set to our efforts. He and I were both men of discipline, but we had a great thirst, even if that water tasted of long storage in wooden barrels.

When we finally decided we had done our best, the servant outside led us through a door beside the water closet. We found ourselves in a paneled cabin hung with beautiful silk paintings of strange pointed buildings and misty mountains. Two quiet guardsman, all in black, girded with swords, waited against the wall, swaying alike with the three paper lanterns hung above the table. A pair of wizened Chinese servants placed covered dishes in the table’s midst. Some other must recently have set the stunning white and blue plates.

Lady Xin already sat at the table’s head, and she gestured to empty places two chairs down from her. “The cooks were preparing the evening meal just as your little boat was sighted,” she told us.

Wine was brought, but I demurred, and Dabir explained to Lady Xin that such was forbidden. I had seen Dabir imbibe wine many a time, but I think this night he wished to keep things simple, and perhaps keep his mind clear. Thus were we served more of the stale water.

Strange delicacies were laid before us, and it was to my sorrow that most were fish of different sorts. I do not care for fish, be it fried or broiled or steamed or sliced into tiny pieces and smothered in sauce. Truly, I had a great hunger, but there was nothing for me but rice, fresh fowl, and a platter heavy with dried peaches and apricots.

The woman sipped at her wine, nibbled on the fish, and watched us closely.

I had lived long in Baghdad and ventured far, so I had seen folk of Chin before, but never a woman such as this. I had judged her a noblewoman, and wondered whether many noblewomen of Chin commanded ships. I did not think so. Under her loose silk robe she wore a stiff collared black blouse parted just at that lovely feminine juncture between her collar bones, where she displayed a petal cinnabar necklace. Her fingernails were scarlet, long almost as the talons of a beast, though her manner was extremely refined. Indeed, she held herself with the stiff dignity of the caliph’s chief wife.

“You say that you harmed the serpent,” she said at last. “How was it done?”

“I did not say it was a serpent,” Dabir answered.

The two stared at each other. She tapped the rim of her goblet. “Very well, scholar. I know of the beast you described, and I would very much like it dead. Do you believe you killed it?”

“It is possible,” Dabir told her. “But unlikely. What do you know about it?”