Godzilla Lives!
A Godzilla fanfiction by Travis J. DeSantis
Chapter Four
<Panda Two, this is Panda One. Target has been sighted. Repeat, target has been sighted.>
Two shimmering reflections dashed across the rough Arafura Sea, just south of New Guinea. It was a pair of UH-1B helicopters, cruising over the water at top speed. Panda Two was equipped with standard Huey armament: an M60D 7.62mm Flexible Machine Gun and two side-mounted M200 19-tube Hydra-70 Rocket Launchers. Conversely, Panda One was equipped only with a strange radar dish set up just below the cockpit. It seemed to be on a remote armature, but the dish currently aimed straight down into the water.
<Roger that, Panda One. Begin the operation.>
The two Huey's slowed to a near-stop, hovering over the water. While Panda Two hung back in a support position, weapons trained on the water, Panda One swept down closer to the surface. The radar armature whirred to life, twitching this way and that as it was aimed more precisely. Once everything was set properly, the operator inside Panda One activated the device. There was no audible sound, not to the human ear anyway, but it seemed the sea itself was churning more fiercely in response.
<Um...what's that thing do, again?> asked the pilot of Panda One. He signed up as a pilot so as to avoid naval duty, but looking down from his seat in the helicopter, the increasingly violent waters were starting to make him sick.
<It transmits a super-low frequency designed to cause discomfort in the target's physiology,> replied the device's operator. An older man, he looked the part of an archetypical nerd and spoke with a slight German accent. <Similar to non-lethal sonic weapons, it especially irritates the hearing and-->
<Like a dog whistle?> the pilot interrupted.
<Hmm, yes. Something like that. With this, we can train obedience through negative reinforcement. In theory, that is. It was originally designed to specifically control Godzilla, so we haven't been able to test it on anything of this scale until now.>
A voice crackled over the radio. <I hope you're paying attention, Panda One. It's on the move.>
Deep in the choppy waters, a massive shape grew darker and more defined as it neared the surface. Panda One's pilot gasped audibly as their target broke the surface.
The first thing he noticed was that it was long. And not just long. LONG. Like, 400 feet long. The beast appeared to be covered with knobby armor plating and several boney protrusions on its back and tail extended out to the sides like blades. As it thrashed around violently, the pilot was suddenly aware how easily those knives could cut a Huey in half.
<I-I'm going to raise our altitude a bit,> mumbled the pilot nervously, taking hold of his flight yoke.
<Don't move us!> the operator warned. <If we move out of range, I won't be able to hold it at bay!>
But he spoke too late and the subsonic signal was already broken away from its target. The helicopter began to hover upwards, but the monster's ear-splitting roar made the pilot wince. He jerked the yoke involuntarily and Panda One veered off to the side, throwing the operator against the cabin wall with enough force to knock him out. His unconscious groan could not be heard over the terrifying din.
On cue, Panda Two launched a barrage of Hydra missiles to quell the beast. Incredibly, most of them detonated against the thick armored scales without apparent effect. The soldier in Panda Two manning the M60D sprayed the beast with armor-piercing shells, but it seemed his target's scales were too strong and thick to cause any damage.
In desperation, the pilot of Panda Two fired his last Hydra and managed to score a direct hit on the softer skin at the hip joint. Though the damage was slight, this new pain caused the beast to give a shriek that split the Huey's fiberglass cockpit. Its impossibly long tail snapped up out of the water, slicing the helicopter in two. The fuselage blew up immediately, incinerating the door gunner, but pilot didn't die until his cockpit plummeted into the icy sea.
In Panda One, the pilot was having a hell of a time getting his own Huey back under control. They weren't losing any more altitude, but they weren't gaining any either, which left them dangerously close to the furious beast. <Hey!!> the pilot screamed. <Wake up back there!! You gotta scare this thing off!!>
A spinning helicopter did nothing to help the operator wake back up, but nevertheless, he groggily sat up on the floor. Pausing for a quick vomit, the operator reached up and fumbled with the controls of his device. <Al...most... jus...am...momen...>
<HURRY!!!>
For the briefest second, the beast seemed to disappear back under the water and the pilot thought it left on its own. But he was quickly proven wrong as the sea opened again and the beast rushed up towards the Huey. He banked to the right sharply and the motion was followed by a loud, hollow SNAP. The monster's massive jaws had closed just next to the helicopter, whose pilot got an up-close view of tree trunk sized fangs, before sliding back into the water.
<I've got it!> the operator called weakly from behind. He cranked up the power to full and the device whined loudly.
Panda One swung around to aim the transmitter at their target, eliciting another tremendous roar from the monster. The sound was loud enough to make the pilot cringe, so he could only imagine what the beast could be feeling. It took off like a torpedo, much too fast for something that large, and the violent wake it left behind nearly swallowed the low-hovering Huey.
For miles around, the powerful frequencies being transmitted were affecting all kinds of life. Fish deeper in the sea writhed in pain and birds on the surrounding islands took off in a flurry, some crashing into each other in their haste to escape. The beast's own anguished cry left the pilot's ears ringing even after it had crossed the horizon. In the back, a warm line of blood trickled out of the operator's ear and he scrambled to turn his device off.
The helicopter steadied at last, its pilot gasping for breath. <Just like a dog whistle...>
Far away, there was a reaction of a far different kind.
On the island called Oshima, Mount Mihara had lain dormant for two decades. Several million pounds of boiling hot magma weighed down on its impossible occupant. But today, the volcano that once saved mankind from destruction began to rumble. Whether or not it was actually alerted by the activity on the other side of the Equator, a slumbering giant began to stir.
