Project Legion (Nemesis Saga Book 5)

by Jeremy Robinson

  The Dread had responded to the sudden appearance of a human city the same way humanity might—with overwhelming military force. The only reason Tucson hadn’t been wiped off the face of the MirrorWorld map was because the creatures seemed to be showing restraint.

  “Stay inside,” Lilly said to the girl. “Seriously.” Then she ran up the final flight of steps and kicked her way through the locked roof entrance. She moved quickly, leaping between trees and vehicles without making a sound. Her movements went unnoticed until she landed on the roof beside Crazy, making the hovering Dread surrounding him flinch back.

  “’Bout time you woke up,” she said. “We going to have to fight all these?”

  She hoped not, because while Crazy was on his feet, he looked ready to pass out again.

  “Quiet,” he grumbled. “They can understand you.”

  Lilly clamped her mouth shut. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke out from the side of her mouth. “So is this like a stare-down or something?”

  “I’m talking to her,” he said, tapping his head with his finger.

  The ‘her,’ Lilly guessed, was the Matriarch, with whom Crazy could communicate telepathically.

  “We need to leave,” he said. “Now.”

  “What about all these people? They’re not safe here.”

  “That’s the deal,” Crazy said.

  “I’m not sure I want to take that risk,” Lilly said, eyeing the inhuman creatures, fear building in her chest.

  “Problem is,” Crazy said. “I have no trouble taking risks, and you don’t have a choice.” He reached out faster than she thought he was capable, clutched her hand and then shifted them back to reality. Lilly wanted to punch him, but he was unconscious again, and they were forty feet above the ground.

  23

  HUDSON

  “You guys switch out the ventilation security measures?” Rook asks.

  I lock eyes with Cooper, who seems just as taken aback by the question as me. “Uh, ventilation security measures?”

  Rook stands quickly and moves away from the table. Nothing else needs to be said. Everyone follows his lead, leaping away from the table as a high-pitched shriek and a loud thumping echoes from the vent, announcing the intruder’s approach. Then it arrives.

  An oversized larval creature slides through the vertical vent grates like they aren’t even there. For a moment, I wonder if the larvae are somehow able to become immaterial, but when it hits the table and separates into three dozen, inch-wide fillets, I understand. The vent grates are actually super-sharp razors, which the soft-bodied larva struck at a free fall. Any creatures hoping to sneak into the base via the vents are going to look like sushi meat.

  As black fluid leaking from the dismantled body starts eating away at the tabletop, we hurry from the room, everyone on task.

  Maigo is by my side. “Use your emotions.”

  “Is this like a Mr. Miyagi moment or something?” I ask. “Because it’s backwards. I’m supposed to be giving you advice.”

  “Being the Voice of Hyperion is all about logic. The robot likes to make sense, and that’s how we sync. With a kaiju, at least the variety spawned from Prime, it’s all about emotion. It will obey you without it, but—”

  “It won’t pack a punch,” Rook says. He’s following Cowboy, five feet ahead, but he’s paying attention. “This is going to be gross, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, remembering my time inside the mind of Scylla. Then, I was controlling the monster from a distance. This time, I’m getting up close and personal. “Very.”

  Maigo gives my hand a squeeze and then turns away, heading down the newly constructed hallway leading to Hyperion’s oversized hangar—and the gargantuan tank where Nemesis is chilling out. Part of me wants to go see the monster. I’ve only ever seen her pissed off and fighting. Would she be as frightening at peace? Is she capable of feeling peace?

  We enter the hangar a moment later, heading for the Bell. As the others hurry across the open space, I hang back with Watson, Cooper, Fiona and Freeman. “I want each and every branch of the U.S. military flooding the cities beneath the GUSes. And I’m not just talking U.S. cities. Anywhere our soldiers are deployed, I want them out and fighting. Saving lives. Same goes for police, SWAT and any rootin’ tootin’ militias you can contact. Time to put those second amendment rights to good use.”

  Cooper is tapping away on her tablet, making it happen.

  Somewhere, an explosion shakes the Mountain. I point to Freeman and Fiona. “Priority two is saving this base. Priority one is keeping these two alive.” My finger waggles between Cooper and Watson.

  “Got it,” Fiona says, without questioning why Cooper and Watson are more important than the entire installation, and all the other people in it. She’s seasoned enough to understand that sometimes an individual can make a greater difference than an entire army. That’s pretty much the motto for our strange group of interdimensional warriors.

  When gunfire rolls out of the hallway behind them, I take Watson’s arm and look him dead in the eyes. “Get your son.”

  Watson’s eyes go wide, and Cooper’s fingers stop typing. In the chaos, they’d overlooked that Spunky was here. Watson spins on his heels and runs down the hall. Cooper is right behind him. “Go!” I shout to Fiona and Freeman, pleased when they have no trouble catching up to the worried parents.

  When I join Collins, Rook, Cowboy, Hawkins, and Joliet at the Bell, everyone looks anxious. But they’re ready to fight in the most unconventional way ever attempted by humanity.

  “Will we have comms inside the beasties?” Rook asks.

  I shake my head. “Our bodies will be immobile. Your senses will be the kaiju’s senses. Your mouth, the kaiju’s mouth. And as far as I know, they lack the ability to speak, even if you try.”

  “So hand gestures, then.” Rook says. “Tell me I can at least flip someone the bird with these S.O.B.s.”

  “You can certainly try.” I place my hand on the Bell. “Let’s do this.”

  In the blink of an eye, we’re transported from the futuristic hangar bay to the pine-scented peak of Stinson Mountain. The clearing at the top is covered by a concrete slab that once supported a lookout tower. The lack of trees usually provides a beautiful view of Stinson Lake below, and the White Mountains beyond. The new view—five blank kaiju faces—is fugly at best.

  Using the remote, I order the five kaiju to lean their heads down. I’m surprised, yet delighted, when they obey. If I’m honest, part of me wants them to just spaz out and run away. I’m really not looking forward to what comes next, and I can tell the others aren’t either. But the massive GUS blotting out the sun above us, keeps us on task. I glance across the valley. The GUS’s dangling lower half is positioned directly above the Mountain, shedding globs of fluid and scores of giant, acid-spewing larvae.

  “So how do we do this?” Joliet asks.

  “I guess, just pick one and climb onto the back of its head.” Leaving Cowboy and the Bell behind, I step toward Scylla. She’s not the biggest or most powerful of the kaiju, but I figure that when choosing which monster’s mind to co-exist with, I’m better off picking the monster I know. Hawkins heads for Typhon, the tallest and most human of them. Collins heads for Karkinos, the most Nemesis-like and powerful of the bunch. Joliet takes the lithe Drakon, quick and agile. And that leaves Rook with...

  “Are you effing serious? I get this pip-squeak?” He motions to the runt of the litter, Scrion. Outwardly, the kaiju is Rook’s opposite. While still a good 150 feet tall, the almost pug-like kaiju is half the size of Scylla and absolutely dwarfed by Karkinos. When the original Scrion faced off against Nemesis, it was such a pitiful and one-sided fight that I actually felt bad for the monster. But despite its size, it is still powerful, and fast. With a human mind guiding it, Scrion will still pack a punch.

  Despite his open disappointment, Rook wastes no time scaling the monster’s face, while the rest of us do the same. I creep toward the back of Scylla’s broad,
hammerhead shark-like head, looking for a way inside. A slurping noise makes me flinch. An orifice, not too dissimilar from a giant, fungus-skinned sphincter, opens itself to me. If that wasn’t bad enough, black tendrils snake out, rising into the air, reaching for me with the manic twitching of one of those freaky ‘air dancer’ tube men, of which car lots are so fond.

  I look around at the group. Each has found the way into their kaiju. No one has yet to take the plunge.

  “Bunch of wussies!” Joliet’s voice echoes over the mountaintop. Then she steps into Drakon’s tendrils. The darkness wraps around her and pulls her inside.

  Collins goes next, once again proving the women of the FC-P are the bravest of us.

  Not wanting to be the last man standing, Hawkins, Rook and I all enter our kaiju at the same time.

  The tendrils wrap around my legs first, then writhe up my body. They’re warm and soft, and I can’t help but feel violated by them as I’m pulled inside the orifice. I’m disgusted, damn near ready to puke, and then consciousness fades.

  It’s just a flicker, and then I’m back, but I’m not really me anymore. I’m disoriented for a moment. The massive mountain upon which I stood just moments ago, is now below me, and it looks more like a hill. I feel like I’m standing inside a model train set. Colors are brighter. More vivid. Everything is crystal clear, all the way to the horizon, which at this height is hundreds of miles.

  I feel the kaiju’s power as well, burning inside my body.

  Its body.

  Or is it our body now?

  I turn my massive head around, looking at the living filth falling from the GUS’s underside. The giant creature is still large, but not impossibly large. More like facing down an elephant. Still a daunting task, but doable. I hope. The real trick is going to be coordinating our efforts without being able to speak.

  Karkinos steps into view, looking me in the eyes. She reaches out one of her massive claws, and for a moment, I think the monster is attacking. But then the claw pats my giant shoulder. Collins. I look around at the other monsters, updating their identities in my consciousness. Typhon is Hawkins. Drakon is Joliet. And Scrion...

  Where is Scrion?

  The runt of the litter leaps atop Stinson Mountain, bounding with energy. Not Scrion, I tell myself, Rook. And then Kaiju Rook does the unexpected. He lifts his snub-nosed snout in the air, opens his mouth and roars out what I think is the chorus line of the Super Hero Squad theme song. It’s followed by a gargling hooting that confuses me for a moment, until I recognize it for what it is: Scylla’s laugh.

  Rook leaps from his high perch, stumbles and rolls his way down the mountain before reaching the bottom and taking off at a sprint. The ground trembles and trees crack, as the rest of us chase him. We’re charging into a fight that none of us really knows how to win, using new bodies, that none of us really knows how to best use.

  If Mephos is watching, he’s either laughing, or shaking his head in disappointment.

  Rook reaches the Mountain first, charging up its side. I’m sure he’s giving them a good shake, but the facility can take a direct hit from a nuke, so they should be okay. Upon reaching the peak, he leaps high in the air, jaws open. I pick up the pace, charging through the small campground at the base of the mountain, hoping I’m not stepping on anyone. If Rook can bite the GUS’s base, the added weight should pull it down to where the rest of us can reach it.

  But Rook’s jump takes a sudden ninety degree turn, as he is struck by something massive.

  Hawkins reaches out with Typhon’s big hands and catches Rook, who is dazed, but still alive.

  Our team of five kaiju stops in a line, facing the Mountain, as Lovecraft steps atop the ridge.

  This is doable, I think.

  Lovecraft, pound for pound, might be a little larger than Karkinos, but five on one? We can handle this.

  An explosion of light bursts to the side of Lovecraft, flickering brightly for a moment before fading. When it fades, Giger is left behind. Not Giger, I think. That monster died. This is another of its species.

  How many kaiju do the Aeros have? I wonder.

  And then another flash of light pulses on Lovecraft’s other side. A second Giger. Two more flashes of light. Two more Lovecrafts.

  Shitlesticks.

  24

  WATSON

  “This way!” Watson shouted, charging down a hallway with Fiona and Freeman hot on his heels. In fact, while he was running at full speed, they appeared to be jogging, almost itching for the chance to run past him. But they didn’t know where to go, and right now, that was to the nursery.

  Not every secret Earth-defending base came with a nursery, and the Mountain didn’t have one until Hudson had insisted. His intention hadn’t been to put baby Ted in harm’s way, but rather to protect their son, so Cooper and Watson could do their jobs without having to worry about their child’s welfare during a global war. While they all knew the Mountain might be attacked with brute force—they were fighting kaiju—none of them had ever really considered the possibility of an invasion by shat out, oversized, acid-spewing larvae.

  Cooper brought up the rear, running and talking with a phone to her ear, mobilizing the nation’s armed forces and anyone else willing to help out their fellow humans. She was on task, as usual. Not even her hair was ruffled. But Watson could see the subtle change in her demeanor. On the outside, she was all business, but just underneath the surface, she was as terrified as him.

  Watson had never really dreamed about having a family.

  He knew he wasn’t the most attractive man. He was overweight. He sat in front of a computer most of the time. A genius, sure. But most women, in his limited experience, preferred men with chiseled bodies, even if they only possessed Cro-Magnon intelligence.

  But not Cooper. She’d seen him with a different set of lenses. And sure, it had taken years for their relationship to progress from trusted colleagues, to best friends and finally to husband and wife. But the wait had been worth it, and had resulted in a son. For a man whose high school yearbook deemed him the most likely to work at McDonald’s, he’s doing pretty well.

  But now all of that was under threat, and even though he had lost a good forty pounds, his chest was starting to burn from the effort. Not well enough, he thought, pausing to catch his breath and get his bearings.

  “Your heart is beating irregularly fast,” Freeman said, holding Watson’s wrist with a gentle touch. “You should rest.”

  “My...son,” Watson said, tears in his eyes.

  Freeman placed his hands on Watson’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Tell me how to reach him. Exactly. I will not forget.”

  Watson had never seen such a mixture of intelligence and passion in a single person’s eyes. He believed Freeman, so he told him, laying out the twisting path of halls, elevators and stairwells that would take him to the nursery.

  “I will find him,” Freeman said. “And bring him to you.”

  And with that, Freeman was off and running. The hallway they were in was a hundred feet long before it hit a T junction. Freeman reached the far end in what felt like a single second.

  “Geez,” Fiona said, watching Freeman go. She then patted Watson’s back. “You okay there, big guy?”

  Watson stood up straight. The pounding in his chest had slowed. “I’m okay.”

  “What’s wrong?” Cooper asked, pocketing her phone as she approached.

  Watson couldn’t tell if she was worried about Spunky or his health, which she had hounded him about for many years, before and after their marriage. “Got winded. I’m good now.”

  He started down the hallway, taking a good ten seconds to cover the same ground Freeman had in a blink. At the T junction they turned to find their two options for descending four floors. The nursery was on the base’s lowest, and most protected level.

  The stairwell door was shoved in, hanging on a single hinge. Watson felt a surge of concern, but then realized it was most likely Freeman. They hadn
’t seen any larvae on this level yet, and all the gunfire from the Mountain’s security teams was coming from above. The elevator dinged, making Watson jump. The doors whooshed open and a team of five security men and woman, dressed for combat, stepped out.

  Four of the five walked around them, but the fifth recognized Watson and Cooper. “Ma’am. Sir. Are you in need of assistance?”

  “We’re good,” Cooper said.

  “Gino?” Fiona asked. “Gino Ravenelli?”

  The man squinted at her. “I know you?”

  Fiona looked disturbed, but shook her head and stepped into the elevator. “We should go.”

  Watson didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped in the elevator with Cooper and let the confused man be on his way. When the doors closed, Watson asked Fiona, “Do you know him?”

  “I did,” she said. “In my dimension, he’s dead.”

  “Was he a soldier there?” Watson asked, continuing the conversation more out of nervousness than actual curiosity. “How did he die?”

  Fiona frowned. “He died defending this base.”

  A thump on the top of the elevator made them all jump.

  “What was that?” Watson asked, but he already knew the answer. It was confirmed a moment later when the elevator’s roof began to bubble. A larva had infiltrated the elevator shaft and was now melting its way inside.

  A second thump rattled the elevator. Then a third.

  Watson looked at the electronic display for the floors. Two more to go.

  Black fluid mixed with melted ceiling dripped onto the center of the floor, forcing them against the walls. A glob followed next, splattering and nearly coating their feet in metal-eating goo.