GOJIRA:
Chronos Labyrinth
by Vincent Collins
CHAPTER II: MEMORIES OF A TIME THAT WASN'T
ONE
"Hey, Tetsuo, you're early," greeted Lieutenant Devon Marcus, the American assigned guard duty for the 'out of time' prisoners, as they were now known. They had been living in those same prison cells for almost twenty years, after being tried for treason and sabotage of an official, government sanctioned operation and found guilty on all charges.
They spent the next year in a Kyoto high security prison, until Ghidorah had rendered Japan unsafe and what was left of the country's population was evacuated. Most stayed along the eastern-pacific border, in China and Korea, hoping for the day when they could return home, but many scattered themselves across the globe, settling wherever they could find work.
Tetsuo, now a 26 year old man with an impressive physique and decorated military background, took his post by the prison cells themselves, fourteen levels deep into the high security structure built on China soil by Japanese hands. Lieutenants Marcus and Takahashi were the last line of defense against anyone trying to break the prisoner's out, or the first line against any escape attempted that they might have considered taking.
"I'm always early, Devon," the Japanese man replied with a smirk. "You're the one who's always late."
"Oh, now you're nitpicking," Marcus gave back, a smile on his own lips. They clasped hands heartily, Tetsuo's being significantly more massive than that of his thin-framed partner. His eyes momentarily became distracted by Devon's brown hair that seemed to twitch to his slightest movement, regardless of how short it was.
They sat at the lone table, a metal thing adorned with pens, official forms (all blank), a security monitor that cycled through seven camera feeds showing the route from the main entrance to the building fourteen stories up to the cell room, and a computer touch screen interface connected to the building's network, with a direct link to a few choice government agencies, and went through their daily checklist: weapons, charged and ready but with the safety's on; all line's of communication within the building up and running properly; all lines leading outside up and running; air filtration system operating within 'specs'; all security system's at maximum sensitivity and functioning normally, and, lastly but certainly not the least, the livelihood of the prisoners.
"Hello, Ms. Kano, how are you today?" Tetsuo asked of the female prisoner, the one who had come back in time with the others from Japan's distant future. She was old now, but far younger than her wrinkled skin and arctic-white hair would lead one to believe. The years of confinement have taken their toll on her once strong body and proud will. She was frail beneath her grey prison garb, almost impossibly thin.
"As always, Mr. Takahashi," she croaked, her voice long ago having turned hoarse and raspy from what once was constant screaming and crying. "I'm alive, as your government wants me to be. Were you expecting a change, maybe?" she asked, bitterness left only in her words. Tetsuo always felt saddened whenever he talked to her. Even if what she had done those twenty years ago had been deemed 'wrong' by both the government and the people in the general populace, he still saw her actions as heroic, albeit misplaced. To see her, as she appeared in that prison cell, was somewhat heartbreaking.
The guard did not answer. He merely gave her a piteous look, then turned on his heel and marched over to Guard Post number 2, in between the two cells, the doors exactly one and one half meter on either side of him.
The guard room itself was not at all large; five meters deep by ten wide, with a twenty meter ceiling. The prisoners themselves had more room, including a washroom and lounge chair for viewing selected television programs.
"Prisoner Kano checks out," called out Tetsuo, in strict military fashion, to no-one in particular.
"Prisoner Terasawa checks out," mimicked Devon, standing by the guard desk chair. Protocol fulfilled, he sat as his partner slid into an at-ease stance. The guard room door opened up just then and a M-15 android unit, it's synthetic human-like body in a guard uniform that matched Devon's and Tetsuo's blue and grey, entered and took a stoic stance as it waited. While the M-15's looked just like the original M-11 models that were brought from the future with their lightly bronzed 'skin' and dark blond 'hair' atop a chiseled brow, nose and jaw, the advance in technology in the years since have made these models far superior, both in performance and human interaction. Devon made a few quick notes on one of the forms on the table, passed it on a clipboard to his partner, who overlooked and signed it, then handed it over to the android when he got it back.
"All clear," Marcus said as the M-15 scanned the sheet. "Everything checks out."
"Very good," it replied mechanically. "I will see you at 0400 hours, as usual." Devon stood, they all saluted, and then the android guard wheeled around and disappeared behind the closing door.
"At last," breathed Devon, retaking the seat with a controlled fall. He pulled out a bound stack of papers from beneath a pile of forms, opened the makeshift book to a page three quarters toward the back and began reading. Tetsuo's curiosity piqued, shown by a turn of his head and an arched eyebrow.
"What is that?" he asked.
"A book Terasawa wrote, right before the trial," answered Marcus in English. "It's really good stuff. It's perfectly unbelievable, but good."
"What's it about?"
"This giant monster, like Ghidorah, 'cept without wings, that would trample Japan every now and then."
"You're serious!?" Tetsuo had to keep himself from leaving his post in his excitement. There was something about the concept that moved him at his core. Suddenly, briefly, he saw images, like long lost dreams, of something large, ominous, unidentified. "What is the monster's name?" he asked, trying to hide his unexplained desperation.
"Huh?" Devon looked up, having to make a conscious effort to pull himself away from the reading.
"The monster. In the story. What is it's name?" Even as he posed the question, he realized how foolish he sounded. Why am I acting this way?, he asked of himself. In the brief moment he had to ponder that thought, he found no answer.
In lieu of a vocal reply, Devon simply held up the bound papers, showing the front page.
On it was a single word. Three syllables that forever shattered Tetsuo's world.
TWO
There was fire, red and angry, all around him. Defiantly, he screamed at it. The fire brings heat, so much heat that his vision is distorted, rendered almost useless. Frustrated, he yells at the fire pit. The heat causes pain, the first he's ever felt in such a way. Bewildered, he cries.
Suddenly, he is awoken, away from the fire, the heat and the pain. He is back in the comfort place. There is no 'rhythm', but the caress is there, the warmth is there. He is surrounded, as before, and, also as before, he moves forward, mindless to anything but that which does call for him. This time, though, there will be a change. He will not succumb to the devilish toys and pranks of the little ones. He will destroy them, destroy that which summons him. He will survive.
THREE
At first, Marcus thought his partner was just goofing around, as they tended to do on the particularly slow days. It took him a moment, though, to realize that a man can't fake getting so pale in the way the large Japanese man did. Devon was already up and moving when Tetsuo's eyes fluttered and rolled back into their sockets. His head dropped, and he tipped forward, but was caught deftly by his partner.
"Got him," Devon exclaimed under what little breath he had. Stopping a man of Tetsuo's size was no easy task It was twice as difficult to lower him down to the ground gently, but Marcus managed it.
Laying Tetsuo on his back, Devon checked for a pulse, which was frighteningly quick, and breath, that being far more shallow than can be considered healthy. Rapid eye movement could clearly be seen beneath closed eyelids, but those stopped as Takahashi jerked forward, taking in a long, deep breath, and tossing his partner almost to the wall.
"Tet!" Devon was on his feet in the blink of an eye, back at his partner's side. "Talk to me, man," he implored, in English, "What happened?"
Tetsuo's eyes darted around the room, trying to find his bearings. Hearing Marcus' voice, he snapped toward it and focused on the man's face, until things started to clear for the downed guard. Devon calmed, too, as he saw the alarm in the larger man's face dwindle.
Tetsuo opened his mouth to speak and found a desert where his voice once was. By the time his resulting fit of coughing had subsided, his partner was by his side once more, with a cup of water.
"GAH," Tetsuo sputtered after downing the first gulp. "Cold!" With some help from a straining Devon, Takahashi made it back to his post, but presently leaned against the wall to steady himself. His head swam, but with each breath and passing moment, there was further clarity.
"What happened?" he asked, when he was finally able to.
"I was going to ask you the same thing!" Devon paused a moment to make sure his partner was steady. "You fainted. I showed you the title page of Terasawa's story, and you passed right out."
Tetsuo rubbed his forehead, puzzled, and found it sweaty. He flexed his hands, his arms, rolled his head slowly, and tested the rest of his joints.
"I'm not hurt," he noted in English.
"That's because I caught you," replied Marcus with a grin as he returned to his seat.
"Caught me!?" balked Tetsuo, shuddering. He pondered the difficulty of the feat. "Thank you," he continued in English, his eyes expressing his sincerity.
"No problem," Marcus gave back. "But when your shift is done, you're going to the infirmary for a check up," he said, switching back to back to Japanese. Tetsuo nodded.
"Agreed," he replied. With one last look at his partner to make sure of his well being, Marcus returned to his reading.
Three more hours into their shift, and one hour away from their short break, Devon sat back and closed the 'book'.
"Man," he breathed, a hint of astonishment and awe in the exclamation. "That guy is good," he said.
"Was," came a voice, correcting him. Tetsuo recognized it immediately as Kenichiro Terasawa's voice, emanating from the speaker that fed sound from his cell. "I don't write anymore." Tetsuo stepped over and peered into the man's cell for the third time that day. He had been asleep since the lieutenants had first started their shift, his now bloated and overweight body resting peacefully on the cell bed. Both guards had to check the health monitor display on the computer screen every so often to make sure he was still alive, for the man suffered from various ailments, the most dangerous of which was his heart condition.
Like Emi, Terasawa too had aged poorly in the cell during the past two decades. Unlike Emi, however, he managed to gain weight despite the strict diet he was fed. As his health declined, his exercise regiment was cut down, until it was finally removed from his daily schedule out of fear of inducing a heart attack. Even with all the knowledge and technology that Wilson and Glen Shiko had brought from the future, all that could be done for Terasawa was to administer his prescribed medication and let him rest.
"The trial broke my soul," he continued, after a difficult but successful attempt at getting his feet on the floor and his body to a sitting position. "This…dungeon destroyed it," he said, disdain almost as thick as hate twisting his words as he gestured toward the surrounding walls. "I have nothing left inside to write with. I have nothing to write for." His words were bitter and, for some reason, moved Tetsuo.
"I am sorry that you feel that way," he said to the prisoner with honesty. Tetsuo wanted to talk to this man, to find out what he knew of this creature in his story.
"Yeah, it's a real shame," Devon added, swinging his chair around to get a better view of the window on the cell door. "You had some real talent."
"Hmph," Terasawa grunted as a retort. "Writing history is easy. The characters, the stories, they are all there already. I just add the words and put it to paper."
"History," repeated Marcus in disbelief. "Mr. Terasawa, there was no Gojira."
"Oh, yes there was," uttered Kenichiro, a bitter sneer on his lips. "In my time, there was." With that, he hauled his great bulk forward and up onto his feet and made his slow, agonized way to the washroom.
Both guards stared at the man; Marcus in wonder and disbelief, Takahashi in wonder and awe.
The return of the M-15 unit marked the halfway point in the guard's shift, as well as the beginning of their break. After a quick stop in the restroom, they went to the mess hall on the floor for a short meal.
It was a large room, about the size of a concert auditorium, with food dispensers lining two of the four walls. Takahashi and Marcus had found seats near the far corner, close to one of the waste receptacles.
"Hey, Tet," implored Devon after swallowing a mouthful of ramen noodles. "are you okay, man? You've hardly touched your burger." Tetsuo blinked, as if coming awake from a short nap. A quick glance showed him that Devon was just about finished with his meal. When Tetsuo scanned his watch, he was mildly surprised to find that there were only ten minutes left in the break. He had spent almost the entire time lost in thought, as he vacantly nibbled on his french fries.
He could not get the name out of his mind: Gojira. Nor could he stop thinking about the images he saw, the sensations he experienced during the time that Devon said he was unconscious.
"I am well," he replied finally, in Japanese to Devon's English. Marcus's only response was to raise an eyebrow in skepticism.
"You had better hurry with your food, then," he said, pointing to his partner's still full plate. With not a word wasted, Tetsuo devoured the hamburger and remaining fries.
When they relieved the M-15 guard, Tetsuo and Devon switched places; the American took the post between the cells, while the Japanese took the seat at the table.
Finding the story hidden beneath the forms, Takahashi began to read it in earnest, stopping only for the periodic glance at the security monitor.
Five minutes before the end of their shift, Tetsuo closed the book, sat back in the chair, and sighed, much in the same fashion as his partner hours before.
"Where did you stop," Devon asked in Japanese, a smirk on his face.
"Stop?" Tetsuo looked puzzled. "I finished it." He punched up an image of Terasawa's cell and found him sleeping again. The guard was not going to be able to talk to the prisoner that day.
"You 'finished' it? So soon? It took me two days!"
"I read Japanese faster than you," and what a read it was, Tetsuo added to himself. The 'book' covered the beginning of the monster as a living prehistoric dinosaur of an unknown species on Largos Island in the 1940's, to it's radiation induced transformation in 1954 into a massive creature of destruction.
The 'story' covered not only the many attacks and recorded battles of the monster, but it also told of the strength and courage of the people of Japan who rebuilt their towns, cities, and lives after each disaster. It ended with the monster's 'death' within the mouth of a volcano, and its subsequent resurrection and battles with the mutant creature known as Biollante.
There was something about the volcano, and Gojira's fall, that moved Tetsuo deep within his soul. Images, like long forgotten memories resurfacing, were conjured. Feelings of heat and pain, of rage and desperation. Somehow, Tetsuo felt that he knew the beast that had plummeted into a volcano, in another time, in another place.
"…SO!?" exclaimed Marcus impatiently. "What did you think?" Tetsuo took a long moment to mentally sift through the feelings stirred by the passages.
"It was…moving," he finally concluded. Devon put on a hurt look, as if he just found out that he had been cheated.
"'Moving'? That's all you have to say?" Tetsuo shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Ah, well, I guess I'll have to take what I can get."
The conversation was ended by the reappearance of the M-15 guard. He took the at-ease stance and nodded to the human guards.
"It is 0800 hours, Lieutenants Takahashi and Marcus. You are both relieved of duty. Your shift is over."
"Yessir…quitting time," marked Devon as he filled out the appropriate forms. With the paperwork done, Tetsuo Takahashi and Devon Marcus headed for the door, Marcus already stripping off his outer protective dark grey vest. Tetsuo afforded himself one long last look at the sleeping Terasawa before turning to go. As he did, he caught sight of Emi within her cell, still wide awake, sitting upright on her bed. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she seemed to look right into his soul. She nodded almost imperceptibly, then laid herself down to rest, leaving Tetsuo to blink and wonder. Still deep in thought, he trudged down the hall for the awaiting elevator.
"Gojira", "Ghidorah", "Kenichiro Terasawa", "Emi Kano", "M-11" and "Wilson and Glen Shiko" are copyright Toho Pictures. All other characters are copyright the author, Vincent Collins, and cannot be used without expressed written consent from the author. "Gojira: Chronos Labyrinth" and the story under said title are copyright the author . This story, in whole or in part, should not be used, in whole or in part, without expressed written consent of the author.
Chronos Labyrinth
by Vincent Collins
CHAPTER II: MEMORIES OF A TIME THAT WASN'T
ONE
"Hey, Tetsuo, you're early," greeted Lieutenant Devon Marcus, the American assigned guard duty for the 'out of time' prisoners, as they were now known. They had been living in those same prison cells for almost twenty years, after being tried for treason and sabotage of an official, government sanctioned operation and found guilty on all charges.
They spent the next year in a Kyoto high security prison, until Ghidorah had rendered Japan unsafe and what was left of the country's population was evacuated. Most stayed along the eastern-pacific border, in China and Korea, hoping for the day when they could return home, but many scattered themselves across the globe, settling wherever they could find work.
Tetsuo, now a 26 year old man with an impressive physique and decorated military background, took his post by the prison cells themselves, fourteen levels deep into the high security structure built on China soil by Japanese hands. Lieutenants Marcus and Takahashi were the last line of defense against anyone trying to break the prisoner's out, or the first line against any escape attempted that they might have considered taking.
"I'm always early, Devon," the Japanese man replied with a smirk. "You're the one who's always late."
"Oh, now you're nitpicking," Marcus gave back, a smile on his own lips. They clasped hands heartily, Tetsuo's being significantly more massive than that of his thin-framed partner. His eyes momentarily became distracted by Devon's brown hair that seemed to twitch to his slightest movement, regardless of how short it was.
They sat at the lone table, a metal thing adorned with pens, official forms (all blank), a security monitor that cycled through seven camera feeds showing the route from the main entrance to the building fourteen stories up to the cell room, and a computer touch screen interface connected to the building's network, with a direct link to a few choice government agencies, and went through their daily checklist: weapons, charged and ready but with the safety's on; all line's of communication within the building up and running properly; all lines leading outside up and running; air filtration system operating within 'specs'; all security system's at maximum sensitivity and functioning normally, and, lastly but certainly not the least, the livelihood of the prisoners.
"Hello, Ms. Kano, how are you today?" Tetsuo asked of the female prisoner, the one who had come back in time with the others from Japan's distant future. She was old now, but far younger than her wrinkled skin and arctic-white hair would lead one to believe. The years of confinement have taken their toll on her once strong body and proud will. She was frail beneath her grey prison garb, almost impossibly thin.
"As always, Mr. Takahashi," she croaked, her voice long ago having turned hoarse and raspy from what once was constant screaming and crying. "I'm alive, as your government wants me to be. Were you expecting a change, maybe?" she asked, bitterness left only in her words. Tetsuo always felt saddened whenever he talked to her. Even if what she had done those twenty years ago had been deemed 'wrong' by both the government and the people in the general populace, he still saw her actions as heroic, albeit misplaced. To see her, as she appeared in that prison cell, was somewhat heartbreaking.
The guard did not answer. He merely gave her a piteous look, then turned on his heel and marched over to Guard Post number 2, in between the two cells, the doors exactly one and one half meter on either side of him.
The guard room itself was not at all large; five meters deep by ten wide, with a twenty meter ceiling. The prisoners themselves had more room, including a washroom and lounge chair for viewing selected television programs.
"Prisoner Kano checks out," called out Tetsuo, in strict military fashion, to no-one in particular.
"Prisoner Terasawa checks out," mimicked Devon, standing by the guard desk chair. Protocol fulfilled, he sat as his partner slid into an at-ease stance. The guard room door opened up just then and a M-15 android unit, it's synthetic human-like body in a guard uniform that matched Devon's and Tetsuo's blue and grey, entered and took a stoic stance as it waited. While the M-15's looked just like the original M-11 models that were brought from the future with their lightly bronzed 'skin' and dark blond 'hair' atop a chiseled brow, nose and jaw, the advance in technology in the years since have made these models far superior, both in performance and human interaction. Devon made a few quick notes on one of the forms on the table, passed it on a clipboard to his partner, who overlooked and signed it, then handed it over to the android when he got it back.
"All clear," Marcus said as the M-15 scanned the sheet. "Everything checks out."
"Very good," it replied mechanically. "I will see you at 0400 hours, as usual." Devon stood, they all saluted, and then the android guard wheeled around and disappeared behind the closing door.
"At last," breathed Devon, retaking the seat with a controlled fall. He pulled out a bound stack of papers from beneath a pile of forms, opened the makeshift book to a page three quarters toward the back and began reading. Tetsuo's curiosity piqued, shown by a turn of his head and an arched eyebrow.
"What is that?" he asked.
"A book Terasawa wrote, right before the trial," answered Marcus in English. "It's really good stuff. It's perfectly unbelievable, but good."
"What's it about?"
"This giant monster, like Ghidorah, 'cept without wings, that would trample Japan every now and then."
"You're serious!?" Tetsuo had to keep himself from leaving his post in his excitement. There was something about the concept that moved him at his core. Suddenly, briefly, he saw images, like long lost dreams, of something large, ominous, unidentified. "What is the monster's name?" he asked, trying to hide his unexplained desperation.
"Huh?" Devon looked up, having to make a conscious effort to pull himself away from the reading.
"The monster. In the story. What is it's name?" Even as he posed the question, he realized how foolish he sounded. Why am I acting this way?, he asked of himself. In the brief moment he had to ponder that thought, he found no answer.
In lieu of a vocal reply, Devon simply held up the bound papers, showing the front page.
On it was a single word. Three syllables that forever shattered Tetsuo's world.
TWO
There was fire, red and angry, all around him. Defiantly, he screamed at it. The fire brings heat, so much heat that his vision is distorted, rendered almost useless. Frustrated, he yells at the fire pit. The heat causes pain, the first he's ever felt in such a way. Bewildered, he cries.
Suddenly, he is awoken, away from the fire, the heat and the pain. He is back in the comfort place. There is no 'rhythm', but the caress is there, the warmth is there. He is surrounded, as before, and, also as before, he moves forward, mindless to anything but that which does call for him. This time, though, there will be a change. He will not succumb to the devilish toys and pranks of the little ones. He will destroy them, destroy that which summons him. He will survive.
THREE
At first, Marcus thought his partner was just goofing around, as they tended to do on the particularly slow days. It took him a moment, though, to realize that a man can't fake getting so pale in the way the large Japanese man did. Devon was already up and moving when Tetsuo's eyes fluttered and rolled back into their sockets. His head dropped, and he tipped forward, but was caught deftly by his partner.
"Got him," Devon exclaimed under what little breath he had. Stopping a man of Tetsuo's size was no easy task It was twice as difficult to lower him down to the ground gently, but Marcus managed it.
Laying Tetsuo on his back, Devon checked for a pulse, which was frighteningly quick, and breath, that being far more shallow than can be considered healthy. Rapid eye movement could clearly be seen beneath closed eyelids, but those stopped as Takahashi jerked forward, taking in a long, deep breath, and tossing his partner almost to the wall.
"Tet!" Devon was on his feet in the blink of an eye, back at his partner's side. "Talk to me, man," he implored, in English, "What happened?"
Tetsuo's eyes darted around the room, trying to find his bearings. Hearing Marcus' voice, he snapped toward it and focused on the man's face, until things started to clear for the downed guard. Devon calmed, too, as he saw the alarm in the larger man's face dwindle.
Tetsuo opened his mouth to speak and found a desert where his voice once was. By the time his resulting fit of coughing had subsided, his partner was by his side once more, with a cup of water.
"GAH," Tetsuo sputtered after downing the first gulp. "Cold!" With some help from a straining Devon, Takahashi made it back to his post, but presently leaned against the wall to steady himself. His head swam, but with each breath and passing moment, there was further clarity.
"What happened?" he asked, when he was finally able to.
"I was going to ask you the same thing!" Devon paused a moment to make sure his partner was steady. "You fainted. I showed you the title page of Terasawa's story, and you passed right out."
Tetsuo rubbed his forehead, puzzled, and found it sweaty. He flexed his hands, his arms, rolled his head slowly, and tested the rest of his joints.
"I'm not hurt," he noted in English.
"That's because I caught you," replied Marcus with a grin as he returned to his seat.
"Caught me!?" balked Tetsuo, shuddering. He pondered the difficulty of the feat. "Thank you," he continued in English, his eyes expressing his sincerity.
"No problem," Marcus gave back. "But when your shift is done, you're going to the infirmary for a check up," he said, switching back to back to Japanese. Tetsuo nodded.
"Agreed," he replied. With one last look at his partner to make sure of his well being, Marcus returned to his reading.
Three more hours into their shift, and one hour away from their short break, Devon sat back and closed the 'book'.
"Man," he breathed, a hint of astonishment and awe in the exclamation. "That guy is good," he said.
"Was," came a voice, correcting him. Tetsuo recognized it immediately as Kenichiro Terasawa's voice, emanating from the speaker that fed sound from his cell. "I don't write anymore." Tetsuo stepped over and peered into the man's cell for the third time that day. He had been asleep since the lieutenants had first started their shift, his now bloated and overweight body resting peacefully on the cell bed. Both guards had to check the health monitor display on the computer screen every so often to make sure he was still alive, for the man suffered from various ailments, the most dangerous of which was his heart condition.
Like Emi, Terasawa too had aged poorly in the cell during the past two decades. Unlike Emi, however, he managed to gain weight despite the strict diet he was fed. As his health declined, his exercise regiment was cut down, until it was finally removed from his daily schedule out of fear of inducing a heart attack. Even with all the knowledge and technology that Wilson and Glen Shiko had brought from the future, all that could be done for Terasawa was to administer his prescribed medication and let him rest.
"The trial broke my soul," he continued, after a difficult but successful attempt at getting his feet on the floor and his body to a sitting position. "This…dungeon destroyed it," he said, disdain almost as thick as hate twisting his words as he gestured toward the surrounding walls. "I have nothing left inside to write with. I have nothing to write for." His words were bitter and, for some reason, moved Tetsuo.
"I am sorry that you feel that way," he said to the prisoner with honesty. Tetsuo wanted to talk to this man, to find out what he knew of this creature in his story.
"Yeah, it's a real shame," Devon added, swinging his chair around to get a better view of the window on the cell door. "You had some real talent."
"Hmph," Terasawa grunted as a retort. "Writing history is easy. The characters, the stories, they are all there already. I just add the words and put it to paper."
"History," repeated Marcus in disbelief. "Mr. Terasawa, there was no Gojira."
"Oh, yes there was," uttered Kenichiro, a bitter sneer on his lips. "In my time, there was." With that, he hauled his great bulk forward and up onto his feet and made his slow, agonized way to the washroom.
Both guards stared at the man; Marcus in wonder and disbelief, Takahashi in wonder and awe.
The return of the M-15 unit marked the halfway point in the guard's shift, as well as the beginning of their break. After a quick stop in the restroom, they went to the mess hall on the floor for a short meal.
It was a large room, about the size of a concert auditorium, with food dispensers lining two of the four walls. Takahashi and Marcus had found seats near the far corner, close to one of the waste receptacles.
"Hey, Tet," implored Devon after swallowing a mouthful of ramen noodles. "are you okay, man? You've hardly touched your burger." Tetsuo blinked, as if coming awake from a short nap. A quick glance showed him that Devon was just about finished with his meal. When Tetsuo scanned his watch, he was mildly surprised to find that there were only ten minutes left in the break. He had spent almost the entire time lost in thought, as he vacantly nibbled on his french fries.
He could not get the name out of his mind: Gojira. Nor could he stop thinking about the images he saw, the sensations he experienced during the time that Devon said he was unconscious.
"I am well," he replied finally, in Japanese to Devon's English. Marcus's only response was to raise an eyebrow in skepticism.
"You had better hurry with your food, then," he said, pointing to his partner's still full plate. With not a word wasted, Tetsuo devoured the hamburger and remaining fries.
When they relieved the M-15 guard, Tetsuo and Devon switched places; the American took the post between the cells, while the Japanese took the seat at the table.
Finding the story hidden beneath the forms, Takahashi began to read it in earnest, stopping only for the periodic glance at the security monitor.
Five minutes before the end of their shift, Tetsuo closed the book, sat back in the chair, and sighed, much in the same fashion as his partner hours before.
"Where did you stop," Devon asked in Japanese, a smirk on his face.
"Stop?" Tetsuo looked puzzled. "I finished it." He punched up an image of Terasawa's cell and found him sleeping again. The guard was not going to be able to talk to the prisoner that day.
"You 'finished' it? So soon? It took me two days!"
"I read Japanese faster than you," and what a read it was, Tetsuo added to himself. The 'book' covered the beginning of the monster as a living prehistoric dinosaur of an unknown species on Largos Island in the 1940's, to it's radiation induced transformation in 1954 into a massive creature of destruction.
The 'story' covered not only the many attacks and recorded battles of the monster, but it also told of the strength and courage of the people of Japan who rebuilt their towns, cities, and lives after each disaster. It ended with the monster's 'death' within the mouth of a volcano, and its subsequent resurrection and battles with the mutant creature known as Biollante.
There was something about the volcano, and Gojira's fall, that moved Tetsuo deep within his soul. Images, like long forgotten memories resurfacing, were conjured. Feelings of heat and pain, of rage and desperation. Somehow, Tetsuo felt that he knew the beast that had plummeted into a volcano, in another time, in another place.
"…SO!?" exclaimed Marcus impatiently. "What did you think?" Tetsuo took a long moment to mentally sift through the feelings stirred by the passages.
"It was…moving," he finally concluded. Devon put on a hurt look, as if he just found out that he had been cheated.
"'Moving'? That's all you have to say?" Tetsuo shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Ah, well, I guess I'll have to take what I can get."
The conversation was ended by the reappearance of the M-15 guard. He took the at-ease stance and nodded to the human guards.
"It is 0800 hours, Lieutenants Takahashi and Marcus. You are both relieved of duty. Your shift is over."
"Yessir…quitting time," marked Devon as he filled out the appropriate forms. With the paperwork done, Tetsuo Takahashi and Devon Marcus headed for the door, Marcus already stripping off his outer protective dark grey vest. Tetsuo afforded himself one long last look at the sleeping Terasawa before turning to go. As he did, he caught sight of Emi within her cell, still wide awake, sitting upright on her bed. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she seemed to look right into his soul. She nodded almost imperceptibly, then laid herself down to rest, leaving Tetsuo to blink and wonder. Still deep in thought, he trudged down the hall for the awaiting elevator.
"Gojira", "Ghidorah", "Kenichiro Terasawa", "Emi Kano", "M-11" and "Wilson and Glen Shiko" are copyright Toho Pictures. All other characters are copyright the author, Vincent Collins, and cannot be used without expressed written consent from the author. "Gojira: Chronos Labyrinth" and the story under said title are copyright the author . This story, in whole or in part, should not be used, in whole or in part, without expressed written consent of the author.