“I will only agree to leave here if the medics assigned to collect the dead bodies have already done so with that little boy’s mother,” she said softly, pointing back at Haruto to make it clear he was the boy of whom she spoke. “The little one is terribly traumatized over seeing his mother killed right before his eyes. It would be in his best interests if he didn’t have to see her lying all broken up like that again.”
“Can you perhaps tell us what this woman looked like?” the second officer queried.
Risa quickly described Ichika’s general appearance, including her estimated height, hair style, and distinctive sartorial adornments. The young woman visibly winced as she lastly described the physical state the woman had been left in after being hurled from the train carriage. She wanted the description to be complete, however, to better ensure that Haruto would not have to endure seeing his mother’s distorted corpse again.
“I am very sorry this happened,” the first officer said. “I believe I know which corpse you speak of, and that poor woman was taken by one of the ambulances nearly an hour ago.”
“Are you absolutely certain of that?” Risa asked with a firm tone.
“I would not lie to a lady like yourself,” the first officer replied, “one who clearly suffers no fools gladly.”
“Then we will follow you out now,” Risa decided.
The disheveled but still attractive young woman held her arms out to Goro, indicating that he could transfer Haruto back to her. Risa found herself taken aback when the fisherman took the wrong cue and excitedly rushed forward to hug Risa tightly. She did not reciprocate the embrace, standing in a stiff wooden position for a few seconds before pushing free of the affectionate embrace.
“Goro-san, you misunderstood my gesture,” the woman reluctantly informed him. “I held my arms out as a signal that it was okay to return Haruto to me. It was not my intention to make you think I was asking for an embrace. I am sorry for the confusion.”
“Oh…” the fisherman said with another dejected expression.
As they all walked out the door of the building and into the street, Risa and Goro looked in horror upon all the destruction wreaked by Megadrak. Thankfully, most of the bodies had been picked up by then. Unfortunately, the absence of Haruto’s mother and other corpses among the debris strewn about by the kaiju’s rampage did not prevent the boy from acting out in extreme fashion.
“My mama!” the youngster burst out when he noticed the portion of the sidewalk where his mother’s twisted cadaver had rested. That section of the concrete was now bereft of any person’s presence, dead or otherwise. “Where did she go? Why did she leave? I need to find her! To see if she is okay again!”
Risa held the kicking and thrashing child in her arms and did her best to calm him down. “Haruto-chan, I refuse to lie to you. Your mother is… gone. You have every right to grieve, but there is nothing that anyone in this world can do to bring her back. We need to locate other family of yours right away.”
“No!” the boy screamed. “She is not gone! My mama wouldn’t leave me! Stop talking like that, stop it, stop it!”
Risa held the devastated boy tightly for a few minutes, her tears added to his, before carrying him over to the nearest of the several ambulances present at the scene.
“Take care of this boy,” she said to one of the attending medics. “He has been through more than enough for someone so young.”
“I am aware,” the medic assured her. “We will help him all we can at the hospital.”
Tears continued to flow down Risa’s soft pale cheekbones as she watched the medics comfort Haruto as best they could before heading off. “I will visit you very soon, Haruto-chan!” she cried out to him. “I promise you!”
Risa stood watching in sorrow as the ambulance departed for a medical facility in Yokohama. She felt very responsible for the little boy’s well-being, and even took an off-hand comment of Goro’s to heart as she considered asking her husband if they could adopt Haruto.
“I am sorry you must part with the boy now,” Goro told her consolingly. “But we must get our burns and cuts looked at, especially since the one on the back of my neck is really hurting me now. So, I wanted to know if you would like to share an ambulance ride to the hospital with me. That way, neither of us will have to deal with this alone.”
“That… that would be nice, Goro-san,” she said while wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.
The young man’s visage beamed widely. “I thank you for accepting. Let us go and see which of these ambulances may have room for us once more the severely injured people are taken care of…”
The disheveled fisherman’s happy moment was interrupted by the sound of a man’s voice calling Risa’s name from the crowd a few meters to their left. The fact that he didn’t suffix her name with one of the Japanese language’s many honorifics made it clear she was very familiar to him. Goro turned in tandem with her to see a tall, smartly dressed Japanese man in a business suit waving to get her attention. It was Risa’s husband.
“Aoki!” Risa exclaimed with elated joy. “Aoki, thank all the gods you are safe!”
The young woman immediately flew into the man’s arms, and they shared a very passionate hug. Goro stood looking with a dejected expression as Risa gave Aoki Kimura the type of intense embrace she never would with him. He also could not help but notice that Risa’s husband was quite handsome, possessing a neatly groomed coif of hair with nary the slightest indication of encroaching baldness. Goro could not say the same in either regard.
“I thought I had lost you!” Aoki said as he held his wife tightly. “As soon as I heard you had survived, I wasted no time coming here for you.”
“I am glad you did,” she replied, this time shedding tears of bliss. “I am sorry I look so horrid right now.”
“Nonsense,” Aoki said, “you have never looked more beautiful to me. And that is saying much!”
Risa giggled in a girlish fashion.
Aoki smiled back, obviously proud of having this woman for a wife. “Now, let us get you to a hospital so you may have your injuries tended to.”
Risa nodded before turning towards Goro. “Goro Takiguchi, this is my husband, Aoki Kimura. Goro-san went through the ordeal with me and the others, and I could not have survived without him.”
“Domo arigato from the bottom of my heart,” Aoki said with a smile to the fisherman. Goro never moved to cover the distance so he could shake the man’s hand, but simply bowed slightly. “I appreciate your helping to look after my Risa-chan. She is very dear to me.”
“It was… a pleasure, Kimura-san,” Goro said in a strained fashion. “You… are a lucky man.”
“I will not argue with that,” Aoki said with another of his patented charming smiles. “We must be off now, but I want to thank you again. I will see to it that the government reimburses you for all medical and travel expenses related to the kaiju incursion.”
Risa smiled at Goro one final time. “Though I will not be needing to share an ambulance now, I am still obliged by the offer. I must go now, but maybe we will meet again one day.”
With that said, the husband and wife walked in the opposite direction and disappeared into the gathering crowd of suits, police uniforms, and military raiment. Goro was left standing near what was left of a once bustling train station, his arms limp at his sides and his countenance pulled into a sullen expression. These feelings weren’t new to him, but being entirely alone in the world was. To him, it added yet another insult to a life of frequent injuries.
I cannot believe how cruel the whims of the gods may be. With all my family and my best friend taken from me over the past few days, I am left with nothing and no one. And my meeting Risa during those same circumstances, only to learn she could never be mine, and being forced to watch her walk out of my life arm in arm with the man she truly loves at the end of all this… I do not believe it is worth going on living under those circumstances. It would have been best if Megadrak had
caught me.
The anguish-ridden fisherman turned to see the many large military trucks driving to and from the Akihabara streets at a brisk pace, and a dark consideration suddenly entered his mind.
***
Itaru Tanaka could not help but be impressed by the spacious accommodations of the government office he found himself seated in. It was a luxury never experienced by anyone living on his native isle of Imotojima. Even the most prosperous of those who lived on the diminutive isle lived in simple wooden huts; in fact, his police station was but a small two-room structure.
It felt wrong to him that so few should be permitted to enjoy such comforts. Despite his position of authority on his native atoll, he neither demanded nor expected privileges of comfort over and above anyone else on the island. He was there to serve them, not to use his power for selfish acquisition. This was why he chose to relocate to Imotojima after his two years of distinguished service to the Imperial government ended with its defeat at the end of World War II.
Itaru found himself sitting across from an imposing quartet of Japanese men, which gave their side of the table the illusion of being larger than his. He recognized this as a seating arrangement intended to make him feel small and alone against a four-strong personification of governmental power. One of these men was short with a bald pate and attired in a sharp suit and tie combo, a sartorial assemblage which identified him as a politician. He was most likely a minister of the executive Cabinet and thus answerable only to the prime minister himself.
The other three men were clad in military regalia and were more physically impressive samples of masculine humanity despite appearing roughly the same age as the politician. The multiple pentagramic stars on their uniform insignias, ironically representing the frailty of cherry blossoms, made it clear they were high-ranking representatives of the Self-Defense Force. Each of them bore a different morphemic symbol to accompany the stars on their insignias: a riku, a kai, and a kuu, which gave representation to all three divisions of the Japanese armed forces: the ground, naval, and aviation, respectively.
Itaru was determined to keep his composure and not look intimidated. He knew that if he did, these powerful men would have less respect for him, and he suspected he would require that if he was to obtain any measure of advantage in whatever dealings he would have with them.
The quartet stared him down for about a minute, after which the politician sitting in the center of the table finally initiated the proceedings. During that time, Itaru maintained a neutral expression, never so much as blinking or producing a single bead of perspiration.
“I am pleased you could be on the main island to help Japan during its time of need, Tanaka-yakuin,” the neatly dressed politician said. “Your participation in aiding the ground forces sent to your native Imotojima to cleanse the atoll of the Glyceracon infestation was most commendable. You came highly recommended to the prime minister’s office by Lieutenant Amusa. Very highly!”
“Arigato, Minister-sama,” Itaru said politely but with a hint of coldness. He was leery of the mainland government and the decisions they made during his generation, and he trusted them even less now that they had come under dominance by America and its allies.
Though he had since come to believe that the defunct Imperial government made a fatal miscalculation on siding with the Axis during the war, he also resented the US government for dropping atomic bombs on two major Japanese cities. He further loathed the United States for the testing of such weapons in the general region of the Pacific where his home atoll was located.
The suffering wreaked upon people from Japan and the Ogasawara chain of islands who were unfortunate enough to come in contact with the released radiation was an unforgivable lapse of judgment in Itaru’s view. Were the miscreants in charge of the US Defense Department too stupid to anticipate such an eventuality? Or did they simply consider the people living in the region of the Bikini Atoll to be beneath humanitarian concern?
Moreover, the island constable strongly suspected that the atomic forces unleashed by these tests were directly responsible for the mutation of the surrounding fauna that spawned the Glyceracon, as well as the lethal Megadrak itself. He saw the aid he was given by the Self-Defense Force in liberating Imotojima from the mutant annelids as an example of the military acting to clean up a mess it was responsible for in the first place.
Though Itaru was an aggressive man to whom cowardice was an alien concept, he knew how to pick his fights. Hence, he presently felt in no position to make the true extent of his feelings known to these four men whom he now found himself facing. He would listen further to see if what they had to offer was acceptable to his ethical convictions and worth undertaking.
“But where are my manners?” the petite though fidgety politician said with a chilly smile. “Before we dispense with the details, allow me to provide you with a proper introduction to the assemblage before you. I am Minister Fujikawa, and these esteemed men of the Self-Defense Forces are General Nakasone, Admiral Okuda, and General Taira. We are all here to present you with a most generous, but dangerous, proposition.”
Itaru said nothing, but simply sustained his strong neutral expression. The message he conveyed was an invitation for the minister to continue while the constable appeared undaunted by whatever may come.
“In addition to that, you have a record of flying fighter craft for the Imperial armed forces during the war,” the minister noted. “Despite the outcome of that unfortunate conflict, you truly distinguished yourself in skill and courage. And your recent performance against the harrowing situation that afflicted your native island, and your hand in the successful rescue of the remaining people trapped there during the worm infestation, most certainly speak for themselves.”
Itaru continued his stoic demeanor, neither saying a word nor displaying any discernible body language.
“So, this is what the proposition entails,” Minister Fujikawa said. “We want you to enlist in the aviation division of the Self-Defense Forces on a temporary basis, to lend your aid in a mission to eliminate the threat of the Megadrak.”
“The American government fears the implications of such a beast roaming about loose anywhere in the world,” General Taira added to the conversation, “as its ability to traverse the oceans enables the kaiju to potentially invade any inhabited part of the world. Hence, the American Congress are considering an atomic response measure.”
Upon hearing that, Itaru could no longer keep his expression non-emotive. His eyes widened visibly, and the creases on his forehead congealed into thick furrows of flesh.
The island constable could also not help but break his silence at this point. “If I may…”
Taira raised his hand to stifle any further words from Itaru. “I assure you that we of the Self-Defense Force agree with any concerns you were about to express, Tanaka-yakuin. We do not want atomic weapons to ever again be brought anywhere near our section of the Pacific if it can be avoided. That is why we were hoping you could help the remainder of my aviation squad now deployed to initiate a non-atomic countermeasure we have been formulating.
“One of the last two men in the air is a Japanese pilot, and he will cooperate with carrying out this plan to the fullest degree. The other is British, and is not likely to harbor any particular love for atomic weaponry, considering his nation did not develop such a terrible device despite being part of the Allied forces. We know you can help execute this initiative, and recent reports from our men in the air have determined the daikaiju is headed in a direction that is quite fortuitous for our purposes.”
Itaru’s eyes and brow softened, but the expression of general concern remained as he responded. “I would be pleased to hear more, General.”
***
Koji sped the military truck he had commandeered as fast as he dared along the road leading to Tokyo Bay, despite the risks of depleting its meager supply of fuel all the sooner, not to mention the danger of causing the vehicle to overheat. He also did his best to mo
ve the truck in a zig-zag fashion to confuse the pursuing Megadrak and increase his chances of evading a possible distance attack by its oral radioactive mist.
The Imotojima native’s eyes kept repeatedly moving back and forth from the rear-view mirror (to see how far behind him the fast-paced kaiju was), to the arrow of the fuel gauge, and back to the road ahead. His course and speed combined to make this a precarious ride, but he had already been through this more than once over the past few days. At this point, he reasoned himself to be a “veteran” of kaiju-vehicle chases.
Nevertheless, the severe threat to his life prevented any chance of his acquiring a sense of satisfaction out of this. He would have to save that for if he made it out of this deadly predicament alive and reasonably intact.
Luckily, the young naturalist managed to start this jaunt with a good head start on Megadrak. Moreover, the well-built military vehicle’s top speed combined with the swerving route he took to keep him well apace of the trailing reptilian titan.
He knew this fortuity could change at any moment, though. The fuel gauge arrow was pointing perilously close to an empty tank, and his constant veering of the truck increased the likelihood of his toppling the heavy vehicle over. If either occurred, he was as good as dead.
A close call soon came for Koji when he heard the unsettlingly familiar “swooshing” sound of Megadrak exhaling a spray of its acidic oral mist. The young man could not help himself from panicking until he noticed that his erratic driving path “zagged” him out of the way just in time to avoid being enveloped by a spray of the corrosive organic fog. He could see the grass and shrubbery to the side of the road wilting and blackening under the onslaught of the gaseous substance, which served to remind him of the horrific fate he barely managed to evade.
The stomping rumble of Megadrak’s fast pursuit continued behind Koji, providing him with a terrifying rhythm that he could not help to perceive as a sort of requiem tune. He practically jumped out of his seat and lost control of the steering when an unexpected squawking sound emanated from the truck’s dashboard. It turned out to be the military-operated radio built into the vehicle, and a human voice against a loud, roaring background noise emerged from it.
Megadrak: Beast Of The Apocalypse Page 26
