It was nothing like she had imagined. Nothing.
Gipsy had always pictured the Breach as some kind of portal, like that game Raleigh and Yancy had played together during their off times at the Anchorage Shatterdome. But this wasn't a simple hole or rift leading to another world. It was a passageway that looked weirdly organic and flesh-like, walls pulsing around her as if she were in the chamber of a massive heart. As she and the mangled, dying Slattern sank lower said walls relaxed before them, only to constrict again behind them, as if the Throat were a literal gullet and the Anteverse a giant beast swallowing them whole.
Pain wracked her systems, and her sight flickered in and out as the drift began to fail. Where she had felt Mako's presence was only blankness – she had blacked out under the strain of their final attack on Slattern. Raleigh hung on, but only just - he was exhausted, and was already preparing to sever their connection in order to do what must be done.
She knew what he had to do… and she accepted it. If sacrificing herself meant saving humanity – and avenging all she and Raleigh and Mako had lost – then it was more than worth it.
The Anteverse shimmered before her like an image on a holographic sticker, weird double-images shining with rainbow iridescence and lending an eerie beauty to an otherwise grotesque landscape. Everything had the look of flesh or hide or bone, as if this world was literally alive and the Precursors parasites that sapped it of everything they could before moving on. Even the sun high above them looked like a massive, bulging eye, marred by a round black stain that could have been an eclipse… or a giant pupil.
She caught a glimpse of the Precursors themselves, ugly insectoid creatures that stared up at her with blank, sharklike eyes, before Raleigh wrenched off the Pons headset, cutting the handshake. Though she knew she was sinking down to the aliens' eye level, all she could see were flashes of the interior of her own Conn Pod, alarms pinging and warnings flickering on every screen as her beloved Ranger scrambled to finish what they had come to do. She longed to help him, but she was powerless to do more than hang on, to keep her systems functioning until the final moment.
Finally, he activated the control… and a countdown registered in her computer core. She had seconds to live now. Seconds before her core detonated and destroyed her.
And she would take down the Breach, and as many of these Precursors as she could, with her.
Past the pain of her damages she could feel Raleigh climbing into an escape pod, and she poured the last of her strength into the mechanisms that sealed the capsule and released it. Once she was sure both he and Mako were safely away, she surrendered control. It was time.
The countdown reached the final digits, and she silently counted down with them.
Ten… for Yancy, torn from her by Knifehead.
Nine… for Mako's family, obliterated by Onibaba.
Eight… for Striker Eureka, who sacrificed himself to clear the way for her.
Seven… for Cherno Alpha, crushed by Leatherback.
Six… for Crimson Typhoon, torn apart by Otachi.
Five… for Marshal Pentecost, who had granted her a second chance, and gave his life alongside Striker for her sake.
Four… for Chuck Hansen, who had proven himself a true hero in his last moments.
Three… for countless other Jaegers and Rangers felled by the Kaiju.
Two… for the world that had lain for too long in the thrall of terror… and about to see a new dawn.
Heat bloomed in her chest, and for a moment she swore she could feel the weight of a hundred stares on her, the dumbfounded stares of the Precursors who must have some inkling that something was about to happen… but were powerless to stop it. She felt no fear in that final moment – only relief that an era of blood and horror was coming to an end.
One.
Despite the solemnity of the occasion, it was a beautiful day in Hong Kong as the Shatterdome laid its former commander to rest. The sky was an intense blue studded with fluffy white clouds, so bright it almost hurt to look at for very long. The ocean lay calm beneath that stunning sky, gentle breakers hissing upon the nearby shore and the cries of seabirds weaving through the music provided by Coyote's speakers. A light wind moved through the gathering, stirring the flowers laid out in Pentecost's memory and tousling the hair of all in attendance.
Perhaps it would have been more fitting for a storm to roll in on the day of the Marshal's funeral, Sasha thought. But somehow, she thought Pentecost would have wanted it this way. He had kept all their gazes fixed on the final battle, on winning the war at all costs… but she doubted he would have begrudged them the chance to move on once the war was over and won, to enjoy the future they strove so hard to save.
She didn't understand the lyrics to the song Coyote played in tribute to her Ranger – the lyrics were in Japanese, a language she only knew snippets of – but the emotion behind the song was clear anyhow. It was a song of mingled mourning and hope, of remembering the dead but continuing to live despite the loss. At Coyote's feet, Mako wept openly, her lips moving silently along to the words of the song.
Above her, Cherno shifted restlessly, and she could feel his longing to step over the human mourners and go to Coyote's side to hug and comfort her. Crimson, too, eased his weight from one foot to the other as he resisted a similar urge. Despite the occasion, Sasha almost smiled. Neither Cherno nor Crimson had been close to the gray Jaeger, and yet both had already accepted her as a friend, wanting to help her as best they could.
Jaegers stick together, Mama, Cherno told her. All of us. We will help Coyote however we can.
Sasha nodded. "You take care of Coyote… the Rangers will take care of Mako. They both lost a father… and they may get some closure today, but they will still need whatever love and support we can give."
Cherno crooned in agreement, then returned his attention to the music.
Gipsy stood on Coyote's right, holding Striker's Conn Pod in her arms. That got a full-fledged smile from Sasha, and she quickly hid it behind her hand. When the Shatterdome crews had brought Striker Eureka's remains into the Jaeger bay, Gipsy had dashed forward and scooped the Mark V's head up in a hug, earning shouts of dismay from the technicians and a spate of irritated swearing from Striker that everyone present could "hear." The other Jaegers had been delighted to be reunited with one of their own, but it was obvious to Sasha that Gipsy harbored a special affection for Striker… one that would no doubt irritate Chuck and Raleigh to no end.
Finally, the song drew to a close, and Hercules stepped forward to stand beside the titanium-plated urn that carried Pentecost's ashes. The table bearing said urn was strewn with flowers, handwritten notes, photographs, medals, and other objects, reminding her of the photos she had seen of the offerings laid out for Striker by the islanders. Perhaps Pentecost hadn't been quite a god to the Jaeger program… but he had certainly been a hero and a legend, one that would never truly die even after his body had passed on.
Herc paused before the urn, jaw clenched as if trying to physically bite back his emotions. Then he reached up and tore the Team Striker patch from his shoulder and laid it on the table. Only then did he turn to face the Shatterdome personnel in attendance.
"There are no words," he said in a voice that, though quiet, carried to the edges of the gathering. "There are never the words when someone we've all looked up to passes on. And whether he died the death of a hero or on a sickbed, it doesn't matter. What matters is he's gone… and that's left a void that'll never be filled. Not really."
Coyote gave a shuddering keen. In response Cherno hummed softly, the sound rising and falling until it found harmony with Coyote's cry. Crimson added his own thrum, then Gipsy, until all four Jaegers were keening their tribute to Pentecost, a song of mourning and remembrance that left the hairs on Sasha's arms standing on end.
"Pentecost kept us all going when all hope seemed lost," Herc went on. "When everything seemed dark, he saw a light at the end of the tunnel and kept us pointed toward it. And perhaps most importantly… he believed in second chances. He didn't see failures, or lost causes – he saw opportunity. How many of us are still here today because Pentecost didn't give up on us even when the rest of the world wrote us off?"
Aleksis squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. Raleigh and Mako both smiled through their tears, and the humming from Gipsy and Cherno intensified. Even Tendo and Newt seemed to straighten at that, and idly Sasha wondered at their histories – had Pentecost picked them up where others had dropped them, and given them new lives in the Jaeger program?
"We've lost a hero and a leader," Herc finished. "But though the man is gone, the hero lives on, if only in our memories and in the drift." He saluted. "Thank you, Marshal Stacker Pentecost. The world owes you a great debt."
Sasha and Aleksis raised their hands in salute, the gesture copied by every Ranger present – the triplets, Chuck, Raleigh, Mako, Dr. Lightcap, even Lance and Lexi. Even the Jaegers saluted the fallen Shatterdome commander, though Gipsy had to transfer Striker's head to one arm to perform the act. They held the salute for a long moment, paying silent tribute to the man who had played the most part in saving the world.
Then Mako stepped forward, reaching out to pick up the urn. She looked up at Coyote, who gave a solemn nod in reply. Mako nodded back, and she opened the vessel and tipped the ashes out, letting them scatter to the winds.
The funeral over, the Shatterdome personnel began to drift back into the base, their conversation muted in respect. Sasha made no move to join them yet – instead she made her way to the sidelines, where the press waited like jackals at a kill. A line of bright orange safety tape cordoned the area of the funeral off, and thankfully none of the reporters or photographers had been brazen enough to cross it, but they crowded as close as they dared, some leaning over the tape as if those precious extra inches would grant them better pictures.
She knew none of this media frenzy was for Pentecost, however – they had their eyes on a much bigger prize.
"That's Sasha Kaidonovsky!" someone shouted, and the tape bowed inward as the gang of reporters pressed closer. Sasha kept her expression blank as two microphones and a recording device were thrust into her face. The questions came thick and fast, overlapping each other and in multiple languages, and she only caught a handful.
"How long has the PPDC known that Jaegers are sentient?"
"Have the Jaegers always been mobile? When were the Rangers going to come forward with this information?"
"Can we get an interview with Cherno Alpha? Is he able to communicate with us?"
"Is this a publicity ploy to get more funding for the Jaeger program?"
"Silence!" she roared, and the mass of humanity backed up a few steps, though cameras continued to flash and click. In a calmer tone she replied "If you have any respect for the dead, you will leave. Marshal Choi has planned a press conference for tomorrow at noon, and you can bring your questions to him then."
"Mrs. Kaidonovsky, what are Cherno Alpha's thoughts regarding the passing of Marshal Pentecost?" one especially bold – or especially stupid – reporter asked.
"Did I not just get through saying where to bring your questions?" she demanded. "I am only here to tell you to go away. You will have your answers tomorrow."
"Can you tell us anything about…" The journalist trailed off, and her gaze moved upward, eyes widening. "Oh my god…"
Sasha didn't have to turn around to know that Cherno was looming over them, letting the weight of his presence do what his Ranger's words could not. The press backed away, some murmuring nervously, others still snapping pictures, as the Mark I folded his arms and stared balefully down at them. He didn't even bother to crouch – he was taking full advantage of his impressive height.
A low rumble issued from his engines, and three words rang through Sasha's mind with the force of a ringing gong. LEAVE. MAMA. ALONE.
The reporters scattered, though Sasha noted that they didn't go terribly far. Cherno gave one last growl before sinking to his knees.
Did they bother you, Mama? His "voice" was softer now, but still edgy with anger.
"I'm all right, Cherno. Thank you. But you speaking to them will probably just raise more questions, you know."
He shrugged. They'll know everything soon. I just wanted them to leave you alone. They were making you angry.
"I have been angry before without it hurting me, Cherno. But thank you."
He thrummed, satisfied, and pushed himself back to his feet. She patted his foot before heading back for the Shatterdome. Unfortunate that they couldn't rely on the Jaegers to scare the reporters off every time… but then, it wouldn't do for humanity to start fearing them now, when the second Kaiju War was still going in earnest.
Ever since Cherno and Gipsy's escapades in Hong Kong – escapades that had resulted in blowing the secret of the Jaegers once and for all – the media had been hounding the Shatterdome relentlessly. Tendo had ordered a complete lockdown of the base, allowing no one inside or out except on the most pressing of business, and had only lifted it temporarily for Pentecost's funeral. A few reporters had even tried breaking into the base to get their "scoop," though after Aleksis had literally thrown two of them out and Max had ripped out the seat of another's pants, no further attempts had been made.
Tendo had promised the media a full explanation at a press conference, but until then they could only weather the storm as best they could. Rumors on the news networks and social media abounded, and all the Shatterdome could hope to do was debunk the worst ones.
The Jaegers were all gathered around Gipsy's hangar, doubtless exchanging stories and updating Striker on everything he had missed since his disappearance. The Mark V's Conn Pod rested atop a temporary platform Crimson had made of storage crates, though occasionally one Jaeger or another would pick him up and point him in one direction or another. Probably attempting to explain or describe things to him, though given that he didn't have proper optical sensors installed yet, she wasn't sure how much good it would do.
"At least Striker's settling in," Caitlyn noted, matching her stride to Sasha's so they walked side by side. "Despite the lack of a body, of course."
"I only hope we can rebuild him," Sasha replied, frowning. "I am not sure Tendo has many resources remaining to rebuild another Jaeger."
"Mako's been quite resourceful in getting other Jaegers restored, from what I hear," Caitlyn pointed out.
"That is true… but she cannot work miracles."
Caitlyn looked like she wanted to argue, but she held back. "What do you think will happen now? I've been distanced from the actual Jaeger program for so long, I can't begin to predict what will happen now that this has all gone public."
Sasha sighed. "We see if the PPDC hands down a death sentence, I suppose. Tendo has feared from the beginning that they will order Cherno and the others destroyed if they learn the truth."
"They wouldn't dare." Caitlyn's eyes flashed in anger. "The Jaegers saved our world. Surely they wouldn't kill our heroes!"
"They tried to kill the Jaegers once before," Sasha reminded her. "How many were melted down to build the Wall? And of those destroyed, how many still burned with sentience before they were given to the smelters? No… the PPDC has no affection for the Jaegers. They would rather build a Wall of Life to hide behind, however ineffective it proves to be in the end."
Caitlyn bristled like a cat at those words. "I sure hope they send a representative instead of just making a video call. Because I'd sure like to give them a piece of my mind."
"Then you will have to wait in line," Sasha told her.
From the Jaegers' corner of the Shatterdome came a mental spate of curse words. Sasha and Caitlyn paused in their tracks to "listen," and they caught several mentions of bloody creepy zombie and the hell were they thinking amid the string of profanity.
"Someone just got introduced to Mustang Omega," Caitlyn noted.
"Has there been any progress made with him?" Sasha asked, grateful for the change in subject. "Or her? I suppose it could be female, like Gipsy or Coyote."
"If Mustang's personality leans toward male, female, or androgynous, there's been no sign of it." She shook her head, looking irritated for a whole new set of reasons. "The Rossis still insist that Mustang is only a weapon, and that wishing for him to be otherwise is stupid." She eyed Sasha warily. "They had a few choice remarks about the rest of the Rangers wanting their Jaegers to be something other than war machines, but I don't think you want to hear them."
"No," Sasha agreed. She was quite angry enough already without their thoughtless remarks enraging her further. "Something must be done about those two."
"I'm sure Tendo has something in mind," Caitlyn replied. "Though we'll see what happens when the media storm blows over, I suppose."
The Shatterdome's medical center normally didn't accept civilian patients, but an exception had been made in this case. No hospital in China – indeed, very few anywhere in the world – was equipped to deal with injuries inflicted by accidents with or abuse of drifting technology, but the Shatterdome doctors would at least have some idea on how best to help this patient. If nothing else, said doctors intended to learn all they could from this patient, and use their data to better help other victims.
Finally, in perhaps the ultimate act of irony, the Jaeger program's base of operations was perhaps the safest place for this unfortunate victim. With the Kaiju cult's temple in ruins and its devotees either in jail or scattered throughout Hong Kong, High Priestess Mikhail had no sanctuary in a city that had turned violently against her sect. In any other hospital she risked doctors denying her care simply out of spite… if an angry mob didn't storm in and tear her apart first. Perhaps it would have horrified her to know that the one place she was safe was in the headquarters of the Kaiju's greatest enemy, but in her current state they would never know.
Tendo Choi stood by with a grim expression, watching as the head medic made his final examination of Mikhail. Medical science wasn't his specialty, but even to his untrained eye, the High Priestess didn't look too healthy. Her eyes were bloodshot, dried blood still crusted her nose and upper lip, and her skin was pale and speckled with goosebumps. She trembled as if caught in a chill, forcing the doctor to grab her arm and hold it still in order to check the IV.
It was her expression that sent a shiver down his spine – a look of utter horror, eyes unfocused but still wide as if with fright, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Whatever visions her Deep Ones had granted her, they were obviously not anything like she had hoped.
Newt and Hermann looked on as well, hanging back as if afraid to come any closer. It was Newt who finally spoke up – the biologist still held Spike in his arms, clinging to the giant louse as if he were a teddy bear. Not that Spike seemed to mind the attention – he chirred and nuzzled against his master's chest, looking refreshed after a good meal and a much-needed ammonia bath.
"How is she, Doc?" Was it Tendo's imagination, or did he look genuinely concerned for her?
"Physically, her injuries were minor," the doctor replied. "Some swelling of the brain, but that's going down. It'll take some time for the subconjunctival hemorrhaging – the bleeding in the eye – to subside, but that seems to be a common injury from an improper drift."
Tendo nodded. "You emphasized physical, though… so something else is wrong?"
"It'll take a brain scan to be a hundred percent sure," the doctor went on, "but judging by her unresponsiveness and body tremors, I would say she's chasing the RABIT."
"But she's no longer engaged in a neural handshake," Tendo pointed out.
"I know," the doctor replied, "but she's exhibiting the symptoms nonetheless. She should never have attempted a triple-drift with a Kaiju brain… and to be honest, I'm just shocked that the two of you aren't flat on your back with her."
"Just lucky?" Newt suggested with a shrug. "Or maybe we got off easy because we'd drifted with Kaiju brains before."
"Is there any chance of waking her up?" asked Tendo. "Of breaking the handshake?"
The doctor sighed. "The drifting tech is a relatively new science, and we're just barely scratching the surface of its effect on the human mind. Especially since now we're seeing drifts being made and maintained without equipment. Snapping someone out of chasing the RABIT used to mean shutting down the handshake or having their drift partner shake them out of it, but when she's not hooked up to anything or anyone and her drift partners have left the handshake already…" He shook his head. "It's anyone's guess when – or if – she'll wake up."
Tendo nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Keep us updated on her condition." And he turned to leave.
"We're just going to leave her like she is?" asked Newt, hurrying after Tendo. "That's harsh."
"We haven't much choice," Hermann replied, not bothering to hide his anger toward the priestess. "We don't even know how to wake her up. And it's not as if she didn't bring this upon herself."
"Yeah, but it's still harsh. I still feel kinda bad for her."
"For God's sake, Newton…"
"Let him feel a little sympathy for her," Tendo advised. "You two DID see parts of her life in the drift. I'd say she deserves a little pity."
Truth be told, even he felt a little sorry for the High Priestess. Not just because of her fate as an unwilling witness to whatever the Precursors were doing – a background check of her full name, Fatima Mikhail, had revealed a sordid but tragic past. She had fled Pakistan at thirteen to escape an arranged marriage, only to end up in Shanghai as a prostitute. Several arrests and years of abuse later, she had finally found herself in Hong Kong, where she had vanished into the Bone Slums… and emerged as an acolyte, and later High Priestess, of the cult.
Perhaps, he thought, the cult had been her salvation, giving her something to live for after all she had been through. That didn't excuse her actions against the Jaegers or their science team, but all the same, he found he could spare some sympathy for her… and mourn her current fate.
"So what happens now?" asked Newt. "Are you going to kick us out again?"
Tendo shook his head. "After all you two have been through, I really don't have the heart to fire you again." Despite the raging headache brought on by everything that had happened in the past few days, he managed a chuckle. "But the two of you will be confined to your rooms for a few days until we're absolutely sure you're no longer having Precursor-related nightmares. I hope you understand."
Hermann nodded. "Caution, of course. But if my theory is correct, then Mikhail is monopolizing the drift by chasing the RABIT. The Precursors will be so occupied with her that they have no energy to spare to use us as organic spy drones."
"I'm just glad I haven't had one of those freaky dreams since then," Newt pointed out. "Still feel sorry for her, though…"
"Honestly, Newt, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you developed Stockholm Syndrome for her!"
"Hey, just because I can actually feel empathy doesn't mean I have the hots for her!"
Tendo watched the bickering scientists go, a faint smile on his face. He'd forgotten just how much he missed Dr. Geizler and Dr. Gottlieb. The Shatterdome had been a boring place without them.
He had a feeling that would be the last smile of the day, however, as he left the medical center and walked toward the lift. For though Gipsy and Cherno had rescued their science team from a fate worse than death, they had also attracted the attention of the PPDC. Not to mention other interested parties…
The walk to the Shatterdome's conference room couldn't last long enough. And despite there only being two other people present –the PPDC official and a woman he didn't recognize – somehow the chamber felt uncomfortably crowded. Not for the first time he wished they could have done this conference via video call.
"Marshal Choi," the PPDC official greeted crisply, extending a hand.
"Mr. Griffin," Tendo replied, taking his hand and giving it a firm but quick shake.
"Thank you for taking the time to arrange this meeting." Mr. Griffin's face remained a stern mask, but he sounded almost friendly. "I can imagine it was difficult to find a spare moment given recent… developments."
Tendo elected to ignore the statement and looked both Griffin and the woman over with a critical eye. The PPDC official, Douglas Griffin, was a fiftyish man with a strong Southern-US accent and salt-and-pepper hair smoothly combed forward to disguise a receding hairline. He had broad shoulders and a look about him that hinted that he had once been an athletic man before going to seed, and he dressed smartly in a navy-blue suit and forest-green tie. No different from any of the other PPDC delegates Tendo had locked horns with over the past several months, and he wasn't expecting this one to be any less stubborn.
He turned his attention to the woman. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
"Rain Morris," she replied in a lilting Australian accent. "And before you ask, yes, my parents had an odd taste in names." Chocolate-skinned and her dark hair woven into dozens of tiny braids that spilled down her shoulders, Rain looked less like anyone official and more like a bohemian artist, wearing an embroidered green vest over a white T-shirt and brown wide-legged pants. Upon closer inspection, Tendo realized the embroidery on her vest formed images of various Jaegers – Brawler Yukon and Striker Eureka on the front, with Tactic Ronin locked in combat with an unfamiliar Kaiju on the back.
"Are you with Mr. Griffin?" Tendo asked.
Griffin chuckled. "Does she really look like a representative of the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps to you?"
"Not that I'd want to be associated with anything political," Rain replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "I'm here representing the Sydney Kaiju-War Memorial Museum."
His heart plummeted to the level of his stomach, but he managed to keep a pleasant smile on his face. "I apologize that we haven't been able to refund the payment for Cherno Alpha, ma'am. I can assure you that's a high priority for us, and as soon as we can acquire the funds-"
"Why don't we sit down and discuss this?" Griffin interrupted, and though his tone was genial there was a hardness to his eyes Tendo didn't like. "It shouldn't take long to get everything settled, and then we can be out of your hair."
Tendo nodded, and he pulled a chair out for Rain before sitting down himself. True to his word, Griffin wasted no time getting to the point.
"Look, we all know what the best course of action here is. And I think you'd agree with me that it'd be far more beneficial in the long run to just shut these Jaegers down at once."
Tendo had expected that, but heat flared through his body in response anyhow.
"We all know that for all the good the Jaegers have done, the amount of property damage they can do is staggering," Griffin went on. "Let's face it – they're war machines, and people find war machines terrifying. And that's WITH a human in the pilot's seat or whatever you call it. Now that they're autonomous creatures, how can we even think to keep them under control? They could rebel against us and destroy cities, taking countless lives, before we can destroy them. It's foolish to keep them active any longer than they've already been."
"What you're suggesting is murder," Tendo replied, voice quiet but cold.
"Murder? Don't be ridiculous. These are machines, Marshal Choi."
"Machines that have gained sentience and intelligence," Tendo replied. "They are alive, Mr. Griffin. They may not have organic brains or hearts, but they're every bit as alive as you and me. It may not be a form of life that we fully understand, but it's life nonetheless. And I don't know about you, but I joined the Corps to save lives, not take them."
Griffin's smile vanished, and with it his affable act. "May I remind you, Marshal, that the Jaeger program exists only because the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps requires them to protect humanity until we've finished the Wall of Life."
"Fat lot of good the Wall of Lies has done us so far," Rain muttered.
Griffin glowered at her, then returned his attention to Tendo. "You can preach about ethics and the meaning of life all you like, but remember that in the end, it's the PPDC that calls the shots. We have a world to protect, and we can't afford to have the Shatterdome playing science lab with our mechs while we could be focused on more important things like the Wall. So as much as I'm sure you've grown attached to your toys, we simply can't afford the distraction or the cost at this time." He gestured toward Ms. Morris. "Shut Cherno down and give him to the museum as promised. The others… well, the Wall always needs raw materials."
Tendo narrowed his eyes, and it took all his strength not to raise his voice to a ringing shout. "This 'playing science lab,' as you call it, hasn't been just playing around. We've been trying to understand how the defenders of humanity work, and what brought around this change in them. And in the process, we've not only learned how to help the Jaegers, but found that they can be even more effective protectors of humanity now that they are fully alive and self-mobile. They are dedicated to protecting humanity, to the point that they will lay down their lives for us. They have shown love, devotion, fear, grief, every emotion that humans are capable of. And at any moment they could have abandoned the Shatterdome and gone to live their own lives… but they've stayed on. Because their loyalty, their dedication to defending mankind from the Kaiju, is that strong.
"Even setting that aside… we are just barely scratching the surface of what we can learn about the Jaegers, and about ourselves and the bonds we forge with them in the process. The Jaegers are more than just weapons – they can teach us about the drift, about the forging of artificial intelligences, about the powers of the mind. Hell, even anthropologists can learn a thing or two – and I guarantee more than one would kill for the chance to come here, to watch a society and culture emerge and evolve right under their noses.
"And yet despite all this… despite all the Jaegers have done for us, and can and WILL continue to do… you would have them killed, just because you want to build the Wall and hide behind it. Just because living Jaegers are inconvenient for you."
Griffin clenched his jaw. "They're damned inconvenient for the whole world! Dammit, Tendo, the world's not ready for giant robots! We're still reeling from the Kaiju, and now you want to inflict a whole new breed of monster on us! Do you honestly think the public will welcome living Jaegers with open arms?! Because I sure as hell don't!"
Tendo didn't reply – he didn't have an answer to that. And he had a sickening feeling that Griffin was right, that the world wasn't prepared for this… that they would be no more accepting of Cherno and Gipsy and their kind than they were of the Kaiju…
"They're ready."
Tendo and Griffin both turned to face Rain. She offered Tendo a gentle smile… though the smile was less gentle when she turned it toward Griffin. In fact, Tendo could almost call it vindictive.
"I dunno where Mr. Griffin is getting all his bullshit," Rain noted, "but I can tell you one thing – the very thing I was about to tell Mr. Choi before Mr. Griffin butted in. The Sydney Museum didn't send me to collect on a debt."
Tendo blinked. "Then why did they send you?"
"To deliver a message." She slid an envelope toward him. "With your permission, we'd like to set up a fund for Cherno Alpha. We would set up an exhibit dedicated to him – photos, video of some of his battles, maybe some badges or spare parts or any other items you could spare – and in return we'd collect donations from people who'd like to continue to support him. Of course, we'd consider the original payment for Cherno our first donation."
He sucked in his breath. "Ms. Morris… are you sure?"
"Just Rain," she replied. "And we're very sure, Mr. Choi. You know how many donations for the Jaegers have come pouring in since the news broke? Not just at our museum, but around the world? The world loves the Jaegers, and they want to show that love somehow." She flashed her vindictive smile at Griffin again. "Not ready, my ass – the world's taking this news very well. In fact, with the exception of some loony fundamentalist groups, they're eating it up."
"You're lying," Griffin snapped. "There's no way…"
In response Rain pulled a tablet from her bag, made a few swipes, and set it down before the two men. A slideshow played out before them… photos of crowds bearing signs, waving at the cameras, some even wearing homemade costumes of the more famous Jaegers.
"See that? That's the admission line for the Sydney Museum right as I left to come here. See that? That's a crowd outside the Seattle Shatterdome, petitioning to have it reopened so Gipsy Danger can return to her home country. See those? Those are mementos left at Oblivion Bay for the Jaegers who fell in combat. See that? That's the mob protesting at one of the build sites for the Wall of Life. Oops, you probably shouldn't have seen that one… the protestors hosed some of the workers down with red paint. Not that I don't agree with the sentiment, but the workers are just doing their jobs, they didn't melt Jaegers down…"
Griffin's face went a rather striking shade of violet, and he glared back and forth between Rain and Tendo as she continued to swipe through the pictures, telling a brief story about each as she went. Tendo, for his part, felt a genuine smile of his own forming. And for the first time in a long time, he felt hope – not just hope for the Jaegers or the Rangers, but for the program as a whole. Perhaps the revelation of the Jaegers' true nature would work to their advantage after all.