Godzilla vs Manda

Chapter One

The President of the United States, Bill Freeman, sipped at his tea, letting his taste buds soak in the herbal essences. He put the cup down and then bowed his head lightly to the man sitting across from him, the Prime Minister of Japan. Both men were wearing expensive suits and looking neatly trimmed. The President was much older, his hair a suave silver, while the Prime Minister's was jet-black, and he wore round spectacles. He had beetle eyes and a sharp nose, and had been known as a book worm. Before becoming a politician, he had been a lawyer.

Each leader's prospective guards sat back a ways, watching the conversation, but pretending not to hear anything, as if they were nothing more than statues. "Thank you," said Bill.

"Of course," replied the Prime Minister, with a warm smile, "Now on to business?"

"Indeed. What did you think of the design schematics my people sent you?"

"Impressive...if it can be built."

"It can."

"What about the money though?"

"For the safety of the planet, no cost is too high."

"A bold statement. Several of your predecessors said the same thing, and failed to live up to it."

"They never have to deal with the threats we have had to face. Godzilla appeared at the tail-end of the Obama administration, then I came along to pick up the pieces. I plan to do so."

"And the resources?"

"Attainable, if I can get China to commit."

"Do you think you can?"

"Most likely. The destruction of Shanghai, Hong Kong, or even Nanjing would be bad for business, I think."

"Indeed." The Prime minister took out a small brown folder and opened it, taking out a few sheets of blueprints. He laid them in front of the President, the charts in white lines indicating the architecture of a massive structure, part weapon, part vehicle. "I have to say, your lead scientist...what's her name again?"

"Martha Ashbury."

"She has a flair for the dramtic, this Ashbury."

"She believes that we need to make the weapon look threatening to Godzilla, in order for it to attack it. Otherwise, it might just ignore it, like a tank or a battleship or something."

The Prime Minister nodded and conceded, "I suppose that does make sense. What are you going to call it then?"

"Its official name will be M.U.T.O-Killer MK 1. But our scientists calls it something else."

"What?"

"She calls it," the President smirked, "Mechagodzilla."

"Ha!" the Prime Minister chuckled, "That's so silly it fits!"

"Yes, but she's brilliant. I'll let her do anything if she gets us results."

"I've had my people look at it, and they all came to the same conclusion. That the weapons this creature possesses, so they believe, could kill Godzilla. We'll have to place our trust in you, then."

"You'll back it up?"

"For now. I believe that will get the Chinese to go along with it too. You already have the British you say?"

"Yes. CERN wants to try out some of their new toys in it. Since testing on animals or people would be bad, monsters would make an effective show."

"No doubt. Is there anything else to discuss?"

"No..I..." the President paused, "Actually there is something."

"What?"

"Nobody knows where Godzilla's been for the last four years. Have you given any thought about finding him?"

"Not really. I hazard to think what would happen should you provoke the beast."

"Like what we're trying to do?"

"Yes, Mr. President, like we're trying to do."

Six months later, in a quiet, dimly lit room with the blinds closed all the way shut, several doctors and scientists sat at a table behind a one-way glass window. They could see in the other room, but the people in that one could not. The room on the other side was quaintly furnished with an old-fashioned charm, with a wooden mantle above the stone fireplace, tapestries, and luxurious leather chairs. Sitting in the other room was a woman, who held a voice recorder, and across from her was a Japanese man of about thirty, who was completely bald.

The woman was in her late twenties, with dark black hair, green eyes, and a curved hourglass figure. She was a psychiatrist.

"Mr. Mafune," she began to ask in a calm voice, "You say that you shipwrecked on an island at these coordinates," she listed some numbers off, "But there are no landmasses at these coordinates."

"Yes, Ms. Taggart. It was an island, an unknown one. After the storm, me and my crew went off course and came upon it. Its mountains were covered in fog."

"I see. What made you want to go on shore?"

"We wanted to see if there were any people. We lost many supplies in the storm, when the boat was tipped over."

"I see. According to your initial report at the hospital, you claim to have found some people living on that island, but they were...primitive, according to you."

"They lived like the first ancient Japanese, they knew nothing about modern day technology, and they spoke a dialect that I could barely understand, but could make out a few words. I tried my best to communicate with them, but it took time. And that's when I learned about the island itself, and the danger it presented to the world."

"Yes, about that..."

"I know you think I'm insane...

"No, especially not now, with the world being as it is. You heard about him, didn't you?"

"Yes. The people of the island know its many dangers. In the jungles there are great insects, huge ones that you won't believe until you see them. There's creatures there that should be extinct. But the people of the island worship the greatest one of all. They called it Manda, a Sea Dragon capable of breathing fire. This...this must be your Godzilla."

"Of course. It would make sense that a primitive culture, should it exist as you say, worship such a creature with superstitious awe."

"Yes."

"Very well, do you have anything more to say?"

The shipwrecked sailor grasped the psychiatrist's hand fervently, almost bone-tight, and he wheezed violently, "Don't let anybody go on that island."

A few moments later, Dr. Eckhart, one of the scientists who had been sitting behind the glass, took a seat next to his cohorts. His colleague on his left, Dr. Stein, a German with a thin receding hairline and a bottle-green suit, asked, "So, what did the polygraph come up with, Eckhart?"

Eckhart, who was middle aged and was wearing a crisp business suit and a blue tie, replied, "He's telling the truth, or at the very least, he believes he is."

"But that doesn't make any sense," countered Dr. Strauss, an Austrian from CERN, his speech thickly laden with a german accent, "Satelite imaging knows the position of every known landmass on the planet. How could an island be undiscovered in this day and age?"

"I have a theory," said Eckhart, "If the man is right and Godzilla inhabits the island at some points, then his radiation must cause satellite imaging to cloud up. We'd have to double check with available cartographic databases, but its possible that is true. And if the even more fantastical idea of gigantic insects is true, that could be a mutation caused by radioactive exposure."

"I can't believe it," said Strauss, "But this actually seems to be possible," he sunk his head into his hands, "So what do we do about it?"

"I don't know."

Dr. Stein stroked his beard a few times then said, "We'll have to go check it out. But somebody who has a lot of experience in this kind of thing should go."

"None of us do."

"Actually," said Eckhart, "I know somebody who might be able to help."

Eckhart reached out to get his smartphone and dialed a number. A few seconds later he said, "Ah, Dr. Serizawa. I was wondering if you were busy at the moment, I'm with a couple CERN researchers and we just made a discovery that I think you might be interested in..."