Godzilla at World's End

by Marc Cerasini

  "Where is that thing going?" he asked. Dr. Birchwood shook his head.

  "I don't know where it's going," he answered solemnly. "But I know where it is."

  The kaijuologist glanced at his watch. "Right about now, if its course and speed have remained the same, the creature is somewhere under the Andes Mountains."

  In the Peruvian Andes ...

  The two enemy scouts who were carrying AK-47s dropped like rag dolls under a hail of bullets fired from the Peruvian regulars waiting in ambush. The third scout, who had been clutching the RPD, died harder. His body was held erect for a few seconds as round after round struck him. The man's body jerked from the impact, and he finally dropped the machine gun. Then he simply fell to the ground in a tattered heap.

  Machine guns raked the ranks of the terrorists as they ran across the floor of the valley, searching for cover. Most of them dropped instantly, ripped apart by the merciless firepower. A few of them managed to return fire as they took cover.

  Finally, several terrorists found sanctuary behind the stone ruins at the opposite end of the valley. It was then that Colonel Torres detonated the Claymore mines he had planted behind those ancient stones for just such an event.

  With an ear-shattering blast, the mines exploded. Most of the remaining terrorists were killed in the explosion. One of the men staggered out from behind the rocks, his hands in the air.

  Colonel Torres raised his handgun and shot the man in the head.

  Sean Brennan felt sick. He'd seen dead men since arriving in Peru, but it was usually long after the battle. He never actually saw people die before - not like this. These men were shot like fish in a barrel.

  For a moment, Brennan forgot the victims of their terrorism and felt pity for the men being slaughtered in the valley. But then - suddenly - the rock in front of his goggles exploded. Dust and shards of rock covered his face as bullets ricocheted around him and his friends.

  Then Sean heard a sound like a watermelon being struck by a hammer. Turning, he saw Corporal Franks drop to the ground, gasping as if he'd been punched in the gut. Bob Bodusky leaped to the fallen man's side.

  Then Brennan focused his night-vision goggles on the ridge above his men. In the darkness, he could see the heat images of several terrorists, shooting down at the Americans from the ridge above them. Through the night-vision goggles, the flashes from the muzzles of their guns looked like bright explosions.

  Brennan immediately grasped the situation. It looked as if two groups of terrorists were moving into the valley at the same time, perhaps for a meeting. And the groups were coming from two different directions.

  Now one group of terrorists was above the American soldiers, raking their lines with gunfire.

  For a moment, the raw recruits panicked. Their squad leader was down, and Colonel Briteis was with the Peruvians. They suddenly realized there was no one among them to give orders.

  Sensing what had to be done, Sean Brennan mastered his fear, lifted his M-16, and squeezed the trigger. A second later, one of the figures on the cliffs above them dropped to the ground, his AK-47 falling from dead fingers. The other terrorists on the ridge above scrambled for cover.

  "Rocco!" Sean cried, pointing at the cliff. "Blast them!"

  "Right!" Johnny Rocco cried. The private quickly lifted the muzzle of his powerful M-60 light machine gun and turned around to face the threat at the squad's rear. Aiming carefully, he began raking the ridge with gunfire.

  Sean Brennan saw two more men fall from their perch above them. The rest disappeared over the edge of the ridge.

  "Cirelli! Guyson!" Brennan ordered. "Circle around the hill and hit them from behind ... and don't let any of them get away!"

  Instantly, the two privates ran off to obey Brennan's commands.

  Down in the valley, the shooting behind him caught the attention of Colonel Torres. His men were still mopping up in the valley, however, and so he did not join the battle on the ridge. Torres figured that the Americans could handle the rearguard action. Colonel Bright Eyes had a different reaction. He turned and ran up the hill toward his soldiers, ducking behind stone ruins and hugging the ground the whole way.

  By the time the officer reached his troops, the battle was over. The terrorists who had tried to ambush the ambushers were all dead or heading for the hills with Cirelli and Guyson in pursuit. Brennan and Colonel Briteis heard the bark of distant gunfire - M-l6s - and then silence. A few minutes later, Cirelli and Guyson returned. They had snuffed two more fleeing terrorists.

  "Medic! Medic!" Bob Bodusky cried as he crouched over the fallen form of Corporal Franks. But just as a Peruvian medic rushed up the hill to aid the wounded American, the ground began to tremble. Soon the hills were shaking, and rocks and dirt were raining down on the soldiers from the cliffs above.

  Sean Brennan dropped to the ground as the earthquake continued to roll the ground underneath him, shaking the very earth beneath all of their feet.

  In Wilkes Land ...

  With the exception of Dr. Thorsen, the team that had arrived on the orange Chinook helicopter departed an hour after they arrived - just as soon as the helo was refueled and serviced. Dr. Wendell tried to get more information about the thing detected moving underground, but Dr. Birchwood, the kaijuologist, was not exactly forthcoming with the facts.

  Dr. Thorsen tried to be helpful, running his computer model several times for Dr. Wendell to study. But in the end the American geologist was more puzzled than ever.

  "This is all too much to absorb," Dr. Wendell complained. "When I was younger, science made sense. Nowadays ..." His voice trailed off as he threw up his arms in exasperation.

  "It is a new age, Dr. Wendell," Dr. Thorsen announced gravely. "An age of monsters -"

  The Norwegian geologist's thought was cut short as the ice beneath the tent began to tremble. The tremor lasted only a few seconds, but it was long enough to unnerve the two scientists.

  Just then, the flap to Dr. Wendell's tent was flung open.

  "Dr. Wendell!" cried a technician from the video tent. "Come quick! Something is moving down in the pit."

  The two men zipped their parkas and ran from the tent.

  The camp was already in chaos when the tremors began anew. Men were moving quickly away from the abyss, and the edges of the pit were crumbling even more. Each section of ice that dropped into the hole widened the pit even more.

  "I think we'd better move the camp!" Dr. Wendell cried as he watched the rope fence around the hole being swallowed - along with several cameras on tripods that had been positioned around the pit.

  As the tremors continued, the American geologist grabbed Dr. Thorsen by the shoulder. "Come with me!" he cried, leading the Norwegian to another tent that was surrounded by a cluster of communications antennas.

  Bursting into the tent, Dr. Thorsen saw a technician sitting at a control panel. Above the man was a bank of large color television monitors. They were all filled with static.

  "Are the cameras still working?" Dr. Wendell demanded. The man nodded his head excitedly.

  "The power line was temporarily cut," the technician answered. "I'm just getting the electronic system back on-line now."

  A moment later, the monitors sprang to life.

  The three men gasped in awe and shock when the cameras revealed what was moving deep inside the abyss.

  "Get on the radio and call McMurdo," Dr. Wendell commanded the technician. "I've got to report this."

  As the technician tried to raise their home base, Dr. Thorsen and Dr. Wendell gazed at the thing inside the abyss.

  "It's like a nightmare come true," Dr. Thorsen muttered. "Such a thing should not be alive."

  "And it came out of the same pit as the other creature," Dr. Wendell added.

  "I've got McMurdo!" the technician cried, thrusting the microphone into Dr. Wendell's trembling hand. The scientist took the mike and began to speak in an even, professional tone.

  "There is something inside the pit," he reported af
ter identifying himself and ordering the technician to record the conversation.

  "It is, as far as I can make out, a living creature," Dr. Wendell said into the microphone. "The thing is moving upward - I'm not sure how - but it looks as if it is flying. I estimate that in about ten seconds it will break the surface."

  When the technician heard that, he paled, but remained at his control board.

  "The creature is light blue in color, with golden scales running down its belly. It has a beak for a mouth, and that beak has metallic-looking spikes on either side of it.

  "The creature has only one red eye, which runs across its entire face. It has curved claws on the end of its arms. There are wings, too, on the creature's back."

  Outside the tent, Dr. Wendell could hear the panicked voices of the other men in the camp. The earth began to quake more violently. Suddenly, a shrill, almost mechanical cry cut through the Antarctic day.

  Dr. Wendell stepped closer to the door, peering outside as he continued to file his radio report.

  "The creature is making a terrible noise, like an electronic squawk. The sound is quite piercing."

  The ground began to roll violently, and Dr. Thorsen was dashed to the floor of the tent. Dr. Wendell gripped the edge of the door and continued to speak in a cool, professional voice.

  "The thing is near the surface. It's coming up now."

  ***

  Back at McMurdo, a radio technician and two other men listened to the scientist's report with mounting anxiety. Secretly, Dr. Birchwood and Tobias Nelson felt that he and the rest of the men at the pit were doomed.

  Fortunately, the conversation was being taped, and Dr. Max Birchwood was enough of a scientist not to interrupt the flow of information. As they listened, Dr. Wendell continued to speak.

  "It is moving to the surface!" Dr. Wendell announced, his electronically distorted voice finally showing some sign of the tension he no doubt felt.

  "The creature seems very large. The ground is trembling more violently now. I don't know how much longer I can maintain this radio link -"

  Then the three men in the radio room heard the shrill cry of the creature Dr. Wendell was describing. The sound, even transmitted over hundreds of miles by radio, was truly terrifying and utterly unearthly.

  "It is coming up now ... Almost to the surface ... Oh, my God!" Dr. Wendell cried as fear and horror overwhelmed him.

  "It's ... it's gigan -"

  Then Dr. Wendell's radio went dead.

  9

  THE WAR AGAINST HUMANITY

  Thursday, December 7, 2000, 0900 hours

  NORAD Space Command Center

  Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

  "We have a launch alert!" Airman Sandy Stilson cried, her bright blue eyes wide with shock and surprise as she stared at her "bandit board." Airman Stilson barely got the words out before the Air Force Intelligence officer on night watch, a twenty-year veteran named Colonel Roger Wistendahl, was at the young woman's shoulder.

  "Are you certain, Stilson?" the colonel demanded, staring over her blond head at the monitor. The question was moot. Wistendahl could see the pip flashing on her screen.

  "It launched thirty-six seconds ago," Airman Stilson insisted, noting the readout on the digital clock and tapping the keys on her board in an effort to trace the object's point of origin. Already its course and speed and attitude and apogee were being displayed on her monitor.

  The object was climbing steadily into orbit from somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere.

  "We've got a definite confirmation from Teal Sapphire," Airman Ted Rodofsky announced from his command station opposite the young woman's. It was Rodofsky's job to monitor the data coming from Teal Sapphire. The sophisticated satellite was designed to alert NORAD's Space Command Center of the launch of a ballistic missile or rocket anywhere in the world within seconds.

  The three U.S. Air Force personnel exchanged uneasy glances. This wasn't supposed to be happening.

  It was the end of the graveyard shift at the joint United States and Canadian North American Aerospace Defense Command - NORAD for short. The Cold War was over, no monsters were roaming the fruited plains, and very few hostile powers were aiming nuclear weapons at the U.S. of A.

  In fact, to Colonel Wistendahl, NORAD itself sometimes seemed obsolete.

  The huge technological facility was cut into the very heart of the Cheyenne Mountain range. The base was built on gigantic coil springs designed to absorb the impact of a hydrogen bomb - not that anybody was aiming those things at NORAD anymore. For decades, NORAD had monitored North American airspace from hundreds of radar sites all over the world.

  The entire facility and the philosophy behind it was a holdover from the Cold War of the previous century. Built to survive a Russian nuclear attack, the Cheyenne Mountain radar center was the backbone of air defense for the American continent. Twenty-four hours a day, each and every aircraft flying in or near American airspace was constantly monitored.

  But NORAD monitored activity not only over the United States and Canada. The entire Northern Hemisphere - including the north polar region and Russian Republic airspace - was covered by the Ballistic Missile Early Warning System, made up of radar stations scattered across the tundra of Alaska.

  Missile launches in the Southern Hemisphere were covered by Pave Paws, a pyramid-shaped radar station operating in West Texas. All the information from these various sources was relayed to Cheyenne Mountain.

  It was the Pave Paws radar system, built in the desert of Texas, that was the source of this particular launch alert.

  Until a point of origin could be established, NORAD would remain on alert as a precaution. By international law, countries launching rockets or missiles into space had to notify all other space-faring nations through normal diplomatic channels.

  It was a prudent safeguard against starting an accidental nuclear war.

  Only this time somebody forgot to tell us, Wistendahl thought angrily.

  According to the Space Command Center day-timer, no launch was scheduled for this date or time. As Airman Stilson tried to determine the launch point and Airman Rodofsky continued to monitor the object's course and trajectory, Colonel Wistendahl ran a check on the launches scheduled for the next three weeks, which had been previously logged in their computer calendar - just in case he'd missed any new information.

  But, as Wistendahl suspected, there were no rocket tests or launches scheduled for tonight, anywhere in the world. The liftoff of the first Russian space shuttle from Baikonur Cosmodrome was not going to happen until next week, and the Europeans had no launches scheduled from the European Rocket Testing Range in Australia until January.

  There was a launch of a French Ariane rocket scheduled for Saturday. That rocket was carrying a U.S. communications satellite built for the Independent News Network. If everything went according to plan, the Ariane would blast off from Khorou, French Guiana - but not for thirty-five more hours.

  Colonel Wistendahl knew from experience that rockets were often launched late, but never early.

  "Come on, Stilson," Wistendahl said, irritation in his voice. "Let's have that point of origin. ASAP, please ..."

  Airman Stilson, at her command console, had already calculated a launch-origin solution. But the answer was so ridiculously impossible that she ran the mathematical model through the computer one more time, sure that some data had been flawed.

  NORAD's Space Command Center was home to some of the most sophisticated equipment in the world. SCC not only monitored launches but also maintained watch on the 8,000 or so pieces of space junk - including active and nonfunctioning satellites, spent boosters, debris from the Atlantis and Mir, and other debris that floated in Earth's orbit.

  When the computer finished its second tabulation, Stilson's speaker beeped. For the second time, her computer had come up with a point of origin based on the object's current trajectory.

  The answer this time was the same as the first.

  "Sir," she sai
d, bewildered, "I think you should see this."

  Colonel Wistendahl crossed the command center and stood at the airman's shoulder. He peered at the monitor for a moment. Then Colonel Wistendahl whistled.

  "This can't be right," he stated.

  "I think it is correct, sir," Stilson replied. "I ran it through the computer twice."

  Wistendahl turned to Rodofsky, who was watching the action from his station.

  "Get me the commander in chief of NORAD," Wistendahl said. "We have a probable launch. Point of origin, the Antarctic ..."

  Friday, December 8, 2000, 3:00 A.M.

  International Seismographic Agency

  Sydney, Australia

  On the other side of the International Date Line, Dr. Ryan Whittle, the chairman of the United Nations newest scientific research institution, the International Seismographic Agency, was puzzled.

  Since taking the job as the agency's first chairman six months before, Dr. Whittle - a native of the Bahamas - had seen his share of confusing and contradictory data.

  But he had never seen anything like this.

  What he was seeing now defied common sense and all previous geologic theories. But the facts, as presented to him in the past few hours, had been checked and double-checked by a number of reliable and respected sources.

  According to the report faxed to him from ANARE 2000 - the Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition for the current calendar year - a large object had tunneled deep under the Earth's crust from a point in the middle of Wilkes Land, East Antarctica. The object bored under the South Pole and out under the bottom of the Bellingshausen Sea. The object had subsequently been tracked as it moved beneath the South American continent.

  If that wasn't puzzling enough, a second report filed by seismologists at the Australian Antarctic base in Mawson suggested that a second large object had moved underground from that same position in Wilkes Land at about the same time.

  But this second mysterious object moved toward the coast of Kemp Land - in the opposite direction from the first object. According to the scientists on-station in Mawson, this second object actually moved under the base, many kilometers beneath the crust of the Antarctic continent.