Chapter Eleven
It was night and Inagos was lying atop the hive under the starry sky on his side as he ate a grim feast. Holding his meal between his forelimbs, he was slurping the pulp out from a hollowed out cranium of one of his minions; it had been bought to him by the deathwatch beetles, the undertakers of the Swarm. When he was done slurping out the brain, he crunched the exoskeleton's skull between his mandibles the way a human would crunch a stick of celery. On finishing his meal, he turned his multifaceted eyes down over the edge of the Hive at the empire he had forged with blood and sweat and tears but was unmoved.
Normally he would feel a certain pride at seeing the mounds and the barren soil illuminated by the moonlight and shining with the light that so many fireflies the size of helicopter gun ships cast onto the ground. Indeed, his empire extended to the horizon, which was quite a distance considering the skyscraper-sized hive. Normally the Locust King would feel a great pride, but not this night.
Perhaps sensing what was on her surrogate's mind, the tiny maggot-like Meganuron wiggled towards him and pushed her harsh exoskeleton against his bloated side. Inagos turned his insect head towards her and brushed his forelimbs against her back; he wanted to keep her from the sheer drop that the edge had. However, he let her come because she was always there when he needed her to give hope. But as Inagos turned his head towards the moon, he knew that more than hope would be needed.
Over the previous weeks the humans had been growing increasingly lax in their efforts to contain him and his Swarm; that worried him. Strange wasn't it? If anything, a giant monster would think that to see the end of the humans or their persecution would be a good thing and yet he was worried. It was the same uncertainty he had felt when, months ago, he had had the nightmare of the three-headed monster.
Confused, all Inagos could remember was the skirmish earlier that day had ended before it had begun. A band of man sized cockroaches had been looking across the border that the humans had made to confine them when a skirmish had erupted between them and the humans. The humans killed so many with their weapons that spat stingers that, despite the cockroach scout's best efforts, it seemed as if the humans were going to win. The insects had had to beat a retreat but, strangely enough, the humans made no effort to pursue. Normally the humans would give chase until every last one was dead yet that was not the case that day. The humans didn't even bother to take the bodies of the slain Swarm children as they normally did. (That was where Inagos' meal came from.)
Reports from the tiny locusts that flew about him every day showed Inagos why. With their eyes as his eyes and their ears as his ears, he knew that the humans that patrolled the borders of the land were decreasing by the day. What few humans that were left were not fit to be proud soldiers but were on par with mere foragers, according to the thoughts of colonial insects. It should indeed be a day for celebration for all the Swarm.
And yet the Locust King was worried. By the pact he struck with the Great Tyrannosaur himself, why would the humans just go away? Was this some trap for the Swarm? Was there some greater threat for the humans to face? That was when Inagos froze; he bolted upright on his four hind limbs and, in panic, looked around.
Though the humans had opposed him and had defeated him in the Swarm Wars decades ago, Inagos did not hate the humans. They did not wish for their foodstuffs—or themselves—to be eaten; the Locust King could respect that. Indeed, he even felt an admiration for the order they had; their hives and especially their armies were well organized. If an enemy could indeed be invading the humans' territories or attacking their hives, what was this enemy like? What could be so terrible that it even exceeded the wrath of the Swarm to take away the humans that held the Swarm at bay?
That was when Inagos remembered the nightmare he had had about the three-headed monster. He had thought about that mere moments earlier but now a new thought entered the colossal insect's mind. What if the nightmare had not been a nightmare but a prophecy? What if the three-headed monster was coming? He than recalled how once he had skirted the borders of what the humans called Area 51 looking to eat the nourishing radiation and toxic waste that was there and had seen minds like the one he had seen in his nightmares. Could it be that the monster that would come was one of them but a demon and a prince of demons? Inagos felt his spirit quake and was sore afraid at the horrid thought.
The ugly, yet worried, little insect that was Meganuron looked to her father and was worried. She had always looked up to him as a model of strength but what was happening? All she knew was that if it could frighten him then it could certainly frighten her.
The United States of America was a mighty nation; it was a proud nation. America had begun with high ideals and had sought to make a new land out of an unknown continent. With hard work and determination it went from being a backward, forgotten country to a world power. After it led its fellow Allies to save the world from the forces of evil in WWII it became a superpower. For many years it had even enjoyed the status of being "the greatest nation on Earth" but it would know that, as the saying goes, the bigger they are the harder they fall. And oh how future generations would say how the mighty had fallen.
What had happened? What had happened was invasion. Part of America's pride stemmed from the fact that it rarely had suffered such indignity-the mighty seas on both sides of the nation had been discouragement enough for many years. In fact, the only direct territorial invasion the US had faced in the entire twentieth century was the December 7th, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, and the US wrought terrible vengeance with the August 6th, 1945, nuclear annihilation of Hiroshima. Perhaps, then, it was meant to be that Godzilla, the atomic terror of Japan—which had since been proven to have been created by an American H-bomb—, wreak havoc on Pearl Harbor and begin the chaos. Yet even if the event that inaugurated it were neither tragic irony nor poetic justice, the war that followed soon after was the likes of which that brought the once mightiest nation on Earth to its knees.
The Civil War had been the last war that the US had ever fought on its own soil. With the exception of the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812, America had never had to fight an outside power for its freedom or its life. America could have stayed out of all the other wars it had fought if it had so chosen. But as America fought King Ghidorah it found itself fighting not for politics or for land but one of survival. It was unlike other wars America had fought because now it was its towns being burned, its civilians being killed, its soil was being fought over and bled upon, its existence in danger. For the first time in almost a hundred fifty years, it was the Americans turn to know what it meant to wake up and be afraid, to know the true horrors of war, to know for themselves the pain, the fear, the death.
All this suffering did King Ghidorah cause yet he was almost alone in his rampage. Though determined to have his vengeance, Godzilla was wary in how he pursued his hated enemy across the land as if wishing to vent his hatred on King Ghidorah alone. Even so, when rage filled the King of the Monsters he would destroy whatever stood in his path to find the Prince of Skyllans and God help any who stood against him. Either by Godzilla or King Ghidorah or in their battles of Biblical proportions, America suffered again and again as it never thought it would, or could. City after city fell to the demon's wrath and it seemed as if the madness would have no end.
Soon battle cries such as "Remember the Alamo" or "Remember Pearl Harbor" served not to instill the desire to fight but served only as a reminder of how futile the battle against King Ghidorah really was. As proof, those cries were quickly joined by sad and halfhearted cries of remembering San Francisco, Los Angeles, Houston, Atlanta, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Boston, Phoenix, Detroit, and scores of others. There was nothing to remember save how in moments those cities were completely destroyed when a three-headed monster fell from the heavens and made the sky rain fire.
Facing as it did such a monster, it was rather ironic that America had proclaimed itself the monster fighting capital of the world for the first half of the twentieth century. The US had dealt with King Kong and later the Beast from 20,000 Fathoms easily enough. The giant ants? America said, "We got Them good." Such paltry successes went to America's head, regardless of what the brave men that fought in the sewers of Los Angeles against them asked Dr. Medford. If these giant ants came as a result of the first atomic bomb, then what about all the bombs exploded since then?
It was when the Age of Monsters truly began with the advent of Godzilla, that the Americans soon saw how right those words were and how they were oh so wrong to boast of their "victories." It was because when the giants among the monsters came, that weak and mortal men learned just how small they really were. This lesson was learned the hard way when Inagos & his Swam came, the Swarm of which Medford's ants were just the beginning. Not that it could compare to the havoc wrought by King Ghidorah.
Indeed, the self-proclaimed strongest army in the history of the world was routed and humiliated at every turn by the demon. Despite all their efforts, the armed forces of the US were utterly helpless and could feel naught but a child's impotent rage at how they were unable to protect the land that they so loved. Facing King Ghidorah, the CONUS (Continental United States) armies of the US were able to guard neither their land nor its people. Want and fear stalked every household, every family, and there was not one person in the continental United States who wouldn't lose a loved one in the American campaign of the Monster Wars. What was to come was the darkest hour that the country ever faced and one that would change it forever. With King Ghidorah there, America would be destroyed. It was only a matter of time.
People watching United World Television News' Godzilla Watch Network tuned in to see Connie Matsu in the gym of a Chicago YMCA that had been remade as an emergency relief shelter. They tuned in to see her interviewing Steven Martin whom had been helping to coordinate relief efforts in the area ever since it had been attacked—after all, Chicago was his hometown. Behind them both, people could see the wounded being shuttled back & forth and doctors doing what they could. For those who remembered it was rather ironic, yet appropriate, that Martin be there—and other places all through the Monster Wars—helping the injured when he had almost died in an emergency hospital years ago in a similar disaster. He had been working for hours but was now taking a break to give his words.
On seeing that the commercial break was over, Miss Matsu, who was increasingly being considered an heir to the reporting that Martin had given the world, more so than any others, turned towards the camera. "We're back. Hello everyone. For those of you who are just joining us I'm here in what remains of Chicago with renowned ex-reporter, Steven Martin. As you might know, Mr. Martin was, for many years, United World News finest reporter and specialized in getting the word out on giant monsters, especially Godzilla. He has agreed to grant us an interview. Now we continue.
"Mr. Martin, where were you when King Ghidorah attacked this morning?"
"Well Miss Matsu I was at this very Young Men's Christian Association speaking to the children taking swimming lessons. I was telling them to do their part in the Monster Wars when someone came in yelling that King Ghidorah had been sighted and had already destroyed the Sears Tower. He came in saying that we had to seek shelter because King Ghidorah was coming in our direction. Fortunately for all of us, this building's basement runs deep and it provided at least some protection. I have been here ever since doing what I could to help."
"Mr. Martin, in your days, you were there to see Godzilla and other giant monsters attack various cities. How does what King Ghidorah did to Chicago compare?"
"It was in many ways very different Miss Matsu. For years, kaijuologists have theorized that the larger monsters have human or near human level intelligence. Psychics in G-Force have confirmed that and that they have self-awareness along with individual personalities. I was able to see just how individual in how the two monsters were very different in why they attacked.
"When Godzilla first attacked Tokyo he did it out of pure hatred, he did it out of anger towards the human race. As to why, the Elias and Miki Segeusa say that Tokyo had been his territory eons ago and that he believes we stole it, not unlike how the Rhedosaurus went to New York one year before thinking that it was its old territory. Yet despite the hate that might propel him to do such things, Godzilla takes no pleasure in the destruction he causes. As for King Ghidorah, on the other hand, he does do it out of pleasure. He actually seems to enjoy causing suffering and inflicting pain on others.
"This was seen in their mode of attack. When Godzilla goes to Tokyo, he seems determined to destroy the city itself; although he has no love for humans, they are not his target. King Ghidorah, on the other hand, seems to deliberately seek out humans to kill. Although he does seem to enjoy destroying cities he does it primarily to claim still more victims. In fact, the only word to describe King Ghidorah is evil."
Matsu nodded. "I see. Do you have any words concerning Godzilla as he follows King Ghidorah across the United States? Do you think he will come to this city?"
"I seriously doubt that he will come through Chicago. King Ghidorah left here hours ago; by now Godzilla will have picked up the scent leading elsewhere. As for Godzilla himself, just before the Monster Wars were declared, Miss Seguesa said in a conference if it could be possible to take advantage of Godzilla's hatred against King Ghidorah and use him to destroy that which is enemy to us both. Commander Aso responded that such a plan of action would only aggravate the situation and that has been the official stance of UNGCC ever since."
Martin cleared his throat. "If it weren't so, if we were just able to join forces with each other, then the situation would be far different and we might even have a way of immediately winning the Monster Wars. Yet its not so and while the Guardian Monsters have been a tremendous help in combating King Ghidorah through the USA, they're not nearly enough. They weren't even able to defeat King Ghidorah in their adult forms and have much less chance of doing so in their larval forms. Godzilla is the only monster that could defeat King Ghidorah and we're now trying to destroy the one thing that might be able to save us. This is helped in no small part by the current administration of the US that wastes its time trying to fight the lesser of two evils than on saving the nation. I only hope that a way of saving the world is soon found or we are all lost.
"Do you have any more questions Miss Matsu?"
She shook her head. "No Mr. Martin, that's all. I hope you make it out alright as do your charges."
Martin nodded and shook her hand. "Thank you and I hope you have better luck at surviving your monster stories than I almost didn't."
Matsu smirked as she remembered how people had begun comparing her to Martin with her role in the Monster Wars. "Well then, may your monster reporting luck not rub off on me Mr. Martin." She turned away towards the camera and said, "This is Connie Matsu, live from Chicago, Illinois. Back to you at the studio."