Realm of Kong: The Culling Page 10

  Macy could be heard talking to himself at random times in the middle of the night to mid day. It was always the same argument about how he had gotten into this mess. He argued against the silence that he did what he had to do, and nobody should blame him.

  It had only been a few days since Macy’s capture and already the guards were tired of hearing him. His presence alone caused a disturbance amongst the guards and the other prisoners. Macy was given a cell all to himself. The others were cramped like sardines in the other cells.

  His solitude became his worst enemy. There was no volume control on Macy when he got into his arguments. One night he got so loud the bald chaser in the other cell started to yell back. It became a shouting match between Macy and the chaser, each one yelling at the other to shut up because they were trying to listen to something else.

  During the night all of the hall lights were out. It left the prisoners with just the small lights in their cell to see anything. Macy had been trying to sleep when he heard the door to his room unlock.

  Macy shifted around in his bed. It was too dark to make out who was coming in. The guards never bothered to open the door. They could pass him his food through the little slot on the door. Visitors were not something Macy had nor had he expected any. The last two people that even remotely tolerated him were the ones that put him in the cell to begin with.

  Two people came walking into the cell. Macy could not identify them. The light in the cell was being blocked causing a silhouette of the two figures. They were dressed professionally, but Macy could not take his eyes off of the tops of their heads. Their hair stood straight up and out. Their faces were round, too round to be human. Macy rubbed his eyes to try and fully wake up to comprehend the situation he was in.

  “Good evening, Dr. Macy,” said the figure on the left. The voice was altered. It sounded like a computer hotline. Macy could not tell if the people in front of him were man or woman.

  “Who are you?” Macy asked. He tilted his head around to try and figure out the answer on his own. He still could not make out their faces.

  “We’re here to help you,” said the one on the left.

  “That doesn’t really answer my question,” fumed Macy.

  “Then you will be disappointed,” said the one on the right. “Who we are does not actually concern you. What does concern you is what we can do for you.”

  The grogginess that Macy was feeling started to go away. He was looking at the room with better clarity. He looked at the profile of the two individuals. He finally realized they were wearing masks. They were Noh Theater masks that concealed the entire identity of the wearer.

  Whoever he was talking to had a flair for the dramatic.

  “What can you do for me?” Macy asked.

  “For starters we can get you out of here,” said the left. “We can get you back in your lab by tomorrow.”

  Macy stayed quiet. He looked over the two guests in his cell several times. His expression could not hide the distrust he was feeling.

  “There is a condition of course,” said the right.

  Macy’s expression turned grim. Two masked people don’t wake you up in the middle of the night without a catch.

  “How can you get me out?” Macy asked. He needed more proof before he heard anything else.

  “We have control over more of this base than you might imagine,” said the left. “Our hands are in everything.”

  “This facility is run by the UN. Do you work for the UN?” Macy asked.

  “No,” said the right. “We circumvented some levels. The UN does not know of our involvement here. We would like to keep it that way.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because we brought you here for a reason,” said the left. “We chose you to come to Japan to continue your research. We want that ultraman, Dr. Macy.”

  The right spoke up. “We have been keeping tabs on you, Scott. Your progress is lacking. That’s why you’re here, and that’s why we’re here. You’re about to be shipped out. You have redundant work, and you have caused a bit of trouble since arriving. At least that is what everybody believes. But some of us in our circle don’t see it that way. You’ve been locked up in your lab for weeks. What have you been doing down there?”

  “That’s my business,” said Macy.

  “Now is not the time to be keeping secrets,” said the right. “We can save you from all of this, but we need to know that you are worth the effort.”

  “I’m sure you’ve gone through my research already then. You’ve see what I’ve been working on.”

  “Actually we haven’t,” said the left. “We wanted the chance to bring you in first. A sign of trust, if you will. Plus, if you follow us then you can clean up your filth in that lab. There will certainly have to be some changes.”

  Suddenly, Macy saw his way out. They had not found the jars of Mellora yet. He still had a chance.

  Macy’s expression changed once again. This time he fought to hold back a smile. He turned stone cold.

  “My progress is going slow,” said Macy. “There are some hindrances holding me back.”

  “Like?”

  “Scientific regulations for one. The ethics board for another,” said Macy. “They hold back the sacrifices that it takes to make true progress.”

  “So what are you asking?” asked the right.

  “I want to work freely,” said Macy. “No more regulations, no more hiding in the dark about my actual research. You say you can get me out of this then you can get me out of more.”

  “As long as your work gets us to an ultraman in a timely fashion then you will be protected. We have the power to keep you on this island and keep any questions away from you. This will rely on you keeping quiet about the situation. You will not speak about us. You will not come looking for us. We will come to you. We have eyes and ears everywhere. We will know when we are needed. Of course, this all relies on you telling us what it is you have been doing in your lab. There are to be no more secrets.”

  Macy smiled for the first time that night. He was a kid again, and his parents just left him home alone to do whatever he wanted.

  “Good,” said Macy. “I’ll have my papers drafted tomorrow for you to look at. I’ve been working on a specimen already. That is something that we will have to take care of.”

  Macy slept well that night. He slept all the way through to the morning. When the cell door opened it was the second time in twelve hours that he was woken up by it.

  The Cabinet was true to their word. Macy was back in his lab by late morning.

  Chapter 23

  While Macy was spending his nights in solitude and making arrangements with the Cabinet, Noah was huddled up in the corner of his cell. It was the only space he had to himself. The room was overflowing with all of the chasers that had been captured in the recent weeks.

  There were many sleepless nights for Noah now. It wasn’t just because of the layout. The bald chaser that McClare had brought in was unsettling. He rarely stopped talking. Usually the words were just under the man’s breath. It was hard to make out the details, but a steady stream of white noise could always be heard.

  It was driving the other inmates insane. Everyone else stuck in the cramped room had already yelled and threatened the bald chaser. Noah had to stop two fights from escalating too far. The bald chaser took his short beatings with a smile. Afterward when Noah had managed to calm the room down there was silence for a brief time. Then the talking returned, and the cycle repeated.

  The ramblings grew louder at night. The loudest was when the chaser got into a shouting match with Macy across the hall. Even the steel doors could not hold their anger. That day the bald chaser took his harshest beating. After that, his words remained only above a whisper.

  Noah tried to lay comfortably with no success. He tossed over to his left side to try and find a new spot, but any position he put himself in he could still hear the bald man talking.

  Finally, Macy sat up. He was not going
to win the battle for sleep. Not yet, anyway.

  He opened his eyes and saw the bald chaser staring out the cell window. There wasn’t any view to speak of. The cell was underground. There was just a shaft to allow some daylight in. Noah could press his face close enough to the glass to see a bit of blue skies.

  The chaser was doing the opposite. He had his chin pressed up against the window. It forced his eye sight to see the window seal and the ceiling above their heads. His words disappeared into the night.

  Noah calmed himself down, just looking at the man now made him irrationally angry. He focused on the chaser at the window. His words started to become clearer.

  “Oooohhhh, give me a home where the kaiju roam. Where the deer and the antelope slain. Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are in our way…”

  The song kept going. His lyrics grew worse. There was no longer any rhythm. Noah tried to listen, but the man’s voice got softer. The bald chaser was just spewing nonsense.

  Noah took a deep breath. He had to put himself in the chaser’s shoes. Japan could easily break somebody, especially when they were on their own. There were chasers still in the country that had gone native.

  He ran into a few during his travels in Japan. The remnants of their gear were impressive. Serious money was put into getting them to the island. Noah would know. He did the same thing. It made Noah wonder what had happened that got them so lost. He also worried that it would happen to him. He tried to stay focused on his goals.

  The problem was he had achieved his goal. He was on his way out when he was picked up by Honsou. What was to stop him now from turning into a guy like the bald chaser? Being stuck in a room all alone for most of the day wasn’t helping. Neither was being cramped in the room with other chasers.

  Noah needed out.

  Two of the Mighty Men, Eleazar and Abishai, flew overhead. They circled the base at the same rate on opposite sides of the perimeter. With the Mighty Men able to break into shifts it allowed the opportunity for Babel 4 to be repaired. Soon the facility would be back to full defenses.

  Cassandra Weathers walked determined between the buildings. Her attention did not even go to the Mighty Men flying in the air. She wanted to talk to General Novile. He was the chief commander over Robo-Kong and was now placed over the operations of the Mighty Men.

  The command center was emptier than usual. There were still issues with keeping a full staff in the country. More funding had to be transferred to the defensive program for the facility.

  Many of the offices Weathers passed were empty. The building was a near ghost town with an assistant here and there to aid those few remaining.

  The door to General Novile’s door was open. His assistant was away at the moment. Weathers walked into the office and saluted her superior officer.

  “At ease,” said General Novile. “What can I do you for, Weathers?”

  “I want to know about the Mighty Men,” she said. “There are rumors that you will begin selecting the backups. What are the rankings for the pilots?”

  “There are no rankings,” he answered. “Those are just rumors. We already have the pilots we need.”

  “You need backups, sir,” she replied. “Five cannot do it alone. They will need help. I, for one, would like the opportunity to step inside one of the mechs and show you what I can do. I have over fourteen hundred hours on the simulator for Robo-Kong. These must operate similarly.”

  “You have less than fourteen hundred, Weathers,” said the general. “You were docked, remember?”

  Weathers frowned. She had the hours. No bureaucratic punishment would take that away, but she did not want to argue.

  “Then I am still well on my way to making the official two thousand hours, unless of course they are controlled differently. Then I will be the first in line to start learning how to fly the Mighty Men.”

  “The Mighty Men are highly expensive and only on loan to us from the Mechiju Corporation. Not just any pilot is getting into them.”

  “With all due respect, sir, you have allowed Icarus as one of your pilots. She has been a part of more crashes than anyone in the service. She is a high risk factor to the mechs.”

  “Malick is also one of the most experienced pilots in future weaponry and hybrid technology. She has crashed several demos, but she has successfully flown several more. She has trained on the Mighty Men. She is the best for the job.”

  “Then let me train on the Mighty Men, and I will prove that I am better,” challenged Weathers.

  General Novile gave her a stern look. He leaned back in his chair.

  “No,” said the general.

  Weathers held back her anger. She took several breaths before speaking again. She was fuming, but tried not to show it. Her lists of Spanish curse words she learned as a teenager rotated through her head. She called the general everything she knew, all in her imagination.

  “Why?”

  General Novile leaned forward. He put his elbows on the desk like a father lecturing his children.

  “You have to understand something, Cassandra. I know you’re a great pilot. Your chance for Robo-Kong was coming. All you had to do was beat the policies. You don’t know anyone or have anyone high up owe you any favors, so you had to wait your turn, unlike others who were able to skip ahead.

  “Now, there are new policies. Having the Mighty Men is a major financial risk, but there are those that were willing to take the chance to keep the facility up and running. Being here in Japan is important for a lot of people. The cost for repair for just one of the Might Men is the same as Babel 4, and they can get damaged easier.

  “That means the pilots have to be more than great. Their thought process has to be better. Their reflexes have to be better.”

  “You’re talking about mutants? You have to be a super-soldier for the chance to fly one of the Mighty Men,” said Weathers.

  “Yes,” said the general. “It lowers the risk of human error.”

  “But no mutant has ever flown Robo-Kong. What makes the Mighty Men different?”

  “The operations are the same, but there are different methods of software and hardware. I barely understand it, but the consensus was that only the super-soldiers could properly fly the Mighty Men. These things are not Robo-Kong. They may look and move like it did, but they are different. Mechiju built them, not the Manlins. They are inferior products and need superior pilots.”

  Weathers stood in front of General Novile’s desk unwilling to call defeat.

  “I just need one chance. I can prove to anybody that I can fly one of the Mighty Men.”

  “This discussion is over. You do not qualify as a pilot for the Mighty Men. I am sorry. You will still have a seat on Babel 4, and when Robo-Kong is back up and operational you will have your chance then.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Weathers. She left the room with no further argument. Tears welled up in her eyes as her next hurdle in life looked overwhelming.

  Her head started to spin with thoughts about the future. She had to make a gamble on what would happen and what her goals were. Could she wait for the chance to fly Robo-Kong or would she take the opportunity to fly the Mighty Men?

  Chapter 24

  The first morning back in his lab, Macy had a lot of cleaning up to do. All of his garbage had remained where he left it, in one piled heap in the corner of the room. The wretched smell hit him before he even entered the doorway.

  Macy took a deep breath and hustled inside. The smell was his fault. It was the only thing he could think of to keep others away from his stuff. There weren’t many places that people wouldn’t check, but when it came to comfort and personal hygiene, Macy knew that things could be delayed.

  He began to wade through the garbage in the corner of the room. The garbage smelled of piss. Which wasn’t surprising because Macy had peed on the pile shortly before the soldiers broke in. He followed his bathroom break by spilling several chemicals over the pile that left a strong odor. The smell o
nly grew stronger as he dug through the trash.

  Finally, Macy found what he was looking for. His specimen jars were still where he had left them, tucked away underneath the shield of garbage and piss.

  His plan had worked, and even better than he had expected. Never in Macy’s wildest dreams did he think there would be an organization that could give him what he always wanted. They were going to allow him to continue his work with no more regulations.

  When the UN asked him to come to Japan to continue his work he was astonished. No professional wanted to come near him after the incident with his former colleagues. Even though he was exonerated from any blame Macy had been blacklisted from nearly every major institute. When the UN came to him Macy thought it was a joke at first. Now, it was all starting to make sense to him.

  It wasn’t the UN that was interested in him. It was the Cabinet. They were pulling the strings, and they were powerful. They would have to be to get Macy to Japan.

  Macy smiled at his own thoughts. This mysterious group saw his genius. Soon the rest of the world would too.

  Do you really think they are going to let you loose without any say?

  “Shut up,” Macy said to Mellora’s voice in the back of his head. “They will let me free if they want results. I have fifty years of research to make up for.”

  The kaiju are our protectors. They are not something that is to be dissected.

  “Ignorant,” said Macy. “You sound like my mother. She always hated it when I started on a new project. I examined our neighbor’s dog. He was always barking louder than the others. It was irritating. So one day I trapped him and cut into its throat to see what made his voice so much louder than the others. She found me before I could get any results.

  “I want to understand things. The more we understand the better off we are. Is that so hard to understand? Keeping yourself in the dark about the world leaves you blind.

  “Do you want to know what is more frustrating about this situation? I know there is research out there. Parts of papers have leaked, but they disappear just as fast. There are kaiju studies out there. Somebody knows how these things tick, but they are keeping it for themselves. That is selfish.