Kaiju Apocalypse

by Eric S. Brown

  Lanstum shrugged. “There is little here in Lemura that I don't know of, Minister Yeltsin. But...”

  “No buts, sir. Doctor Bach has managed to conclusively detect a psychic form of energy that appears amongst the ranks of the Dog Kaiju during each of their attacks. Bach believes he has found the means to trace that energy to its source.”

  “And I take it you imagine destroying that source will bring the Kaiju armies to a halt and end their relentless attack,” the words were more of statement than a question as Lanstum spoke them.

  Yeltsin nodded. “Cut off a snake's head...”

  “I see your point, Yeltsin, I do. You've been in search of a miracle to end this war, and you think you've found it in Doctor Bach's work,” Lanstum said carefully, “I, however, am a realist, and it's ultimately my responsibility to keep the people of Lemura safe. More so now than ever, as we are the last. If Lemura falls, the scattered, small colonies of man will surely crumble in our wake.”

  “I understand that, but if I am right...” Yeltsin pleaded.

  “If you're right, then perhaps you could end this war with a single, decisive blow to the Kaiju.”

  “Fine,” Lanstum relented. “Tell me your plan, and what you need, and I'll consider your request.”

  ****

  Technical Specialist First Class Ryan West sat staring at the lump of white and gray that was supposed to be potatoes on his plate. It rested next to the green soupy stuff that the cooks claimed to be the main course of his meal. He picked up his fork and poked at it, uncertain.

  “Hey! West! You gonna eat that or what?” Sergeant Parris’ voice boomed from across the table. Parris was a big man, and everything he did ended up being loud. Talking, eating, killing. A good man in a fight, though, West allowed. Parris was so big that his Dogkiller armor had to be specifically remodeled to accommodate the well honed mass of muscle that he was. Parris glared at West, waiting for an answer.

  Food of any kind that wasn't fish or some sort of kelp was hard to come by these days, and West still couldn't eat fish. The smell of it reminded him too much of the stink of Kaiju. The things stunk so bad up close, not even the atmosphere scrubbers of a suit of Dogkiller armor could keep one safe from the odor. It wasn’t the smell of Kaiju, or the potato substitute, or even the green soupy stuff that had ruined his appetite. He had pre-mission jitters, and he knew it. If he ate the pseudo-potatoes, he'd just spray them all over the inside of his armor when he geared up. With little hesitation, he scooted the plate towards Parris. “Have it,” West told the big man.

  Parris took the plate greedily and started shoveling the white stuff into his gaping maw.

  “You spooked or something, kid?” Parris asked as he chewed with his mouth open. Bits of the potato substitute flew from his lips as his words came out.

  “Aren't you?” West asked. “It's no secret that Pacifica fell two weeks ago. The news is all over the World Net.”

  “Lemura ain't Pacifica,” Parris growled. “No Kaiju have ever gotten through these walls and they ain't gonna.”

  “Doesn't really matter to us, does it?” West frowned. “We're heading out and leaving the city behind. No walls for us.”

  “Where did ya hear that, kid?” Parris was clearly surprised by what he'd said.

  “I have a friend in logistics,” West smiled. “Based on the manifest of equipment, they're getting ready for us, there ain't no way this is just a patrol or special defense duty.”

  “You have a friend in logistics, eh?” Parris grinned at his own cleverness. “Would that be the cute redhead I been seeing you hanging around with?”

  West felt his cheeks flush. He ignored Parris' question and cleared his throat before continuing. “Maybe they're assembling an extraction unit to save those they can from Pacifica. I mean, they had some top-notch Dogkillers over there. They’d sure help out around here. That's the best I can figure, anyway.”

  “Don't matter where we're headed. One Kaiju is just as good as the next when it comes to blowing the fraggers away.”

  “Yeah, sure,” West said, seeing that he wasn't going to get any speculation out of Parris. The big man just didn't think about things like he did. For him it was simply kill. “Catch ya later.”

  West got up from the table and headed towards the barracks. There were still a couple of hours until their squad was slated to ship out, and getting a little extra sleep was never a bad idea.

  ****

  West stood at parade-rest in the bay alongside the rest of his squad. There were three other squads present as well. No one seemed to have a clue where they were shipping out to. They'd been ordered not to suit up and that fact alone was driving West to distraction. It didn't make any sense. Wherever they were headed, Dogkiller armor was called for. What use is a Dogkiller without his or her armor?

  “Atten-hut!” a voice bellowed out. West, along with every other man and woman in the room, snapped to attention. He perked up with attentiveness as Minister Yeltsin entered the bay. What in Hades? West thought. The Minister of War, possibly the most powerful man in all of Lemura, had shown up to address a mere platoon? In all his experience, he’d never heard of that happening. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be a good thing.

  Yeltsin walked down the line of gathered soldiers, inspecting them. His expression was that of a man playing his last hand in a game where the odds were stacked against him. When Yeltsin reached the end of the line of troops, he doubled back to stand facing the center of the line of the four squads.

  “Parade rest!” the same voice called out and West relaxed slightly, shifting his right foot out and placing his hands on the small of his back. His eyes locked onto Yeltsin as the Minister began to speak.

  “I'm sure you're all wondering what your mission is,” Yeltsin's voice echoed off the metal walls around them. “I'll put it to you as simply as I can. In the next hour, you'll be leaving Lemura. Not for Pacifica, as some of you may have speculated about. You'll be boarding a pair of Tridents. . .”

  It was all West could do to keep himself from whistling at that statement. Tridents were the fastest, most combat capable vehicles in use by the United World joint military. Tridents were originally designed as interceptors to engage Mother Kaiju before they made landfall, but ended up becoming the du jour combat vehicle for anything that involved raining death and destruction on Kaiju from the skies. The planes were also submersibles, able to shift from air to water, and could engage the Kaiju below the waves as well as above them. Each individual Trident packed the firepower equivalent to that of a squadron of old world F-16s. The downside of the Tridents were that they cost a fortune to make, and often became the primary focus of a Mother Kaiju in a prolonged engagement. Because of their rising cost, as the war with the Kaiju escalated, the Tridents were phased out of production in favor of more ground based defenses in the city domes themselves. With Pacifica gone, it was likely that the half dozen stationed in Lemura were the last ones left on Earth. If the brass was planning on deploying two of them, instead of holding them in reserve as a means of escape for the politicians and scientific personal should Lemura fall, it definitely meant something big was in store for them.

  “We don't know the exact location of your target at this time,” Yeltsin admitted. “But it is a vital one. Perhaps the most vital target of mankind's entire war with the Kaiju, if our calculations are correct. The target? The Kaiju Overmind.”

  Yeltsin paused as if to allow his words to sink in before he continued. “Doctor Jacoby Bach, the world's leading expert in Overmind theory, will be accompanying. He believes he has found a means to locate this intelligence controlling the Kaiju. Your job, once the doctor completes his, is to make sure that the Overmind is destroyed. By any means necessary, people. By any means.”

  West was no scientist but he knew enough to understand the Overmind theory. It assumed that there was something out there that humanity hadn't encountered yet. Something that telepathically linked all the Kaiju into a sort of unified hive mi
nd. Doctor Bach and Minister Yeltsin had to be gambling that taking out whatever that controlling force was would at best stop the Kaiju in their tracks or at worst shatter their unity, leaving each Kaiju a mindless drone with no focus, West reasoned. If they were correct, it would be a decisive victory for mankind. And if such a thing existed, West didn't want to think about the great lengths the Kaiju would go to in order to guard it and keep it safe.

  “You will not be issued standard Dogkiller armor for this op,” Yeltsin told them. A huge section of wall slid open behind where the Minister stood. West's eyes grew wide as he found himself staring at twenty-four suits of armor which were unlike anything he had ever seen. They were obviously Dogkiller suits, but were sleeker and taller than anything West had worn before. They bristled with armament and were painted a matte black, which seemed to absorb the light in the large room. He couldn’t wait to get inside and see what sort of wizardry the computer geeks had come up with to complement the exterior look. “Gentlemen and Ladies,” Yeltsin continued, “allow me to introduce you to the Dogkiller Mark II. It has a new, faster, more balanced synaptic interface that doubles each suit's reaction time. The armor of the suits themselves is composed of an experimental alloy called Xantranium which offers a far greater protection against the acidic nature of Kaiju blood as well as producing less exterior heat than anything we’ve previously managed. The old standard issue Mag Cannons for the Mark Ones have been upgraded as well. The new Mag Cannons, built specifically for the Mark II suits, now contain an internal, revolving 105 caliber chamber. This chamber allows each cannon to carry an additional five rounds. The Mark II's superior strength enhancement and balance alignment augmentation more than compensate for the additional weight of the rounds in combat. The Mark II Dogkiller armor is also the fastest combat suit ever designed. It can sprint for short periods in excess of sixty miles per hours before needing to give its cooling systems a chance to do their job, and can sustain a constant speed of forty miles per hour for as long as your fuel holds out.”

  West stared at the Mark II suits in awe. They were a grunt's wet dream in terms of firepower and speed, if what Minister Yeltsin said was true.

  “Their overall controls are identical to the Mark I suits so adjusting to their use shouldn't be a problem. At any rate, there is no time to run sims in them. It's learn as you go, I'm afraid. I have faith in each of you that you will be able to manage this, or you wouldn't be here. Your squads are the best Lemura has available. I expect success, ladies and gentlemen, for if you fail, Lemura will surely fall with you,” Yeltsin finished. “Godspeed, and may He have mercy upon us all.”

  “Atten-hut!”

  West snapped to attention, excited, determination coursing through his veins. The men and women in the Dogkiller squads had waited for this moment for a long time. This would be their best shot at truly hurting the Kaiju, to avenge every single loved one and comrade they had lost over the years. It was a defining moment, and West couldn’t wait for his chance to bring the pain.

  “Fall out and get fitted into your suits! Squad leaders, get your people to docking bay four by 0800!”

  As the squads moved to suit up in their armor, West noticed Cathe Smith amongst the members of the other squads. He did a double take as he saw the rank bars of a squad leader on the sleeve of her uniform. It had been some time since the two of them had spoken. After their break-up, West had given her a wide berth, hoping that eventually she'd cool down and they could be friends again, maybe even more. It hadn't happened yet, and he was beginning to doubt that it ever would.

  Smith belonged to Alpha Squad, so she wouldn't be aboard the Trident that Gamma and Zeta Squads were assigned to. He supposed that was a good thing. He knew she was professional enough not to let whatever feelings she continued to harbor towards him interfere with the mission but when the squads linked up again wherever they were all headed to, there would be no escaping her.

  ****

  Staff Sergeant Smith suited up, testing out the controls of her new Mark II Dogkiller suit. She clenched and unclenched her left fist as the thick, servo powered armor covering it responded to her neural input. Smith, like every other man and women selected for the upcoming mission, was a longtime veteran of the war against the Kaiju. She was young, a mere twenty two, but the last four years of her life had been spent mostly inside armor and on the front against the Kaiju.

  Her body count was staggering, a number that was usually associated with tactical nuclear strikes. She was a lethal machine on the field, moving with an ease and grace that had left many in awe of her skills. Behind her back, some whispered that she wasn’t really human, but a last-ditch genetic experiment by the old Federal Republic of Germany to fight against the Kaiju which had risen from the depths of the Baltic Sea before that country, and all others nearby, were systematically wiped from existence. The rumors had also led to her nickname: Volksrächer.

  West's presence among the twenty-four soldiers deploying had not escaped her notice. Upon seeing Ryan, her guts twisted and went cold. Their relationship had been the rough and tumble sort that combat soldiers often filled the void between ops with. Yet, with West, she admitted to herself, she opened up. The geeky combat tech might be sloppy in the bedroom, but there was something about him, a childlike sense of wonder and a wide-eyed excitement that she had found infectious. As dark and terrible as the world had become with the Kaiju war, somehow West still found a way to see the beauty around him. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, the man was a romantic at heart. She often thought that if she had chased him a bit harder, maybe made a little more effort, their relationship could have grown into something beyond anything she had known before. However, the war, as it always did, messed everything up. West was reassigned to Gamma Squad when a Dog Kaiju shredded that squad's tech. Smith could have requested a transfer and followed him, but she was next in line for command of Alpha Squad. Alpha, being the best of the best, was the squad to be in. Her ego wouldn't let her abandon the need to prove she was the best, too.

  Therefore, she had made a choice. Sometimes, though, she found herself wondering if it had been the correct one.

  “All right troopers,” she ordered her squad, having adjusted as well as she could to the new Mark II systems, “Haul some tail.”

  Alpha Squad, with Beta right behind them stomped up the ramp into the Trident that was waiting for them. Members of the squads secured themselves in the Trident's bay and got ready for takeoff. The squad would be making this flight inside their new armor. It would give them more time to piddle around with the internal controls and systems of the new suits before things dropped in the pot. If there really were such a thing as an Overmind controlling the Kaiju, it would surely be heavily defended. There might not be time to suit up once they arrived.

  Smith settled in for the flight. Resting her head against the internal brace of her suit, she closed her eyes. They would have plenty of time to worry about the Kaiju they would be going up against when they were actually in the field. Right now, though, there was nothing to do but get better acquainted with her Mark II or sleep. Even through her suit and the Trident's hull, she could hear the ship's massive engines roar to life and the explosive force of its launch as it left Lemura behind.

  ****

  Minister Yeltsin stood on the balcony of command observation tower and watched the two Tridents take flight. They streaked away from Lemura into the night like blazing rockets targeted at a distant enemy. When the two ships were over the horizon, he turned, walking back inside the tower. It was only by the grace of God that Governor Lanstum gave him the green light for the op. Risking four squad’s worth of troopers, no matter how good they were, was nothing. It was getting Lanstum to crack open the Mark II Dogkiller project and to allow all twenty-four of the costly prototype suits to leave Lemura that had been the miracle, that and the use of the Tridents.

  As he entered the command center proper, it was a sea of chaos. Tech and comm personnel hurried about in their pre
parations for the battle to come. The long-range oceanic sensor array had picked up movement in the waters to the east. Not just the normal passing of Kaiju raiding parties, but something much more worrisome. The Kaiju appeared to be massing several miles off Lemura's coast. No Mother Kaiju had been detected as yet, but the number of lesser ones grew with each passing hour. His staff's best guess approximated the Dog Kaiju's numbers to be in the thousands already. Only a fool could look at the data at hand and see anything other than an army amassing for an assault. It would take far more than a few thousand Kaiju of the smaller variety to threaten Lemura, however.

  Based on the current rate of growth in the Kaiju numbers, it might take several days before they grew to the point of being a true danger. Yeltsin was tempted to seize the initiative. A strike against the Kaiju already off the coast would reduce the beasts' number, maybe even drive them away... but it could just as easily prematurely force the Kaiju's hand. If there were Mother Kaiju, dormant or hiding off the coast, such an attack would surely bring them into action. Lemura had withstood attacks before. What was happening now wasn't totally out of the ordinary. With the fall of Pacifica, Yeltsin couldn't afford to take the chances he might have otherwise. He was willing to admit he was on edge. Making the wrong call could bring Lemura to its knees and end the last stronghold that humanity had. Yeltsin flagged down an assistant to fetch him a mug of what passed for coffee these days. Another officer came up to him and handed over a data chip of the standard daily reports on Lemura's overall state of readiness. As soon as the assistant returned with coffee, Yeltsin retired to his office to look them over.