Godzilla vs. Kong by Greg Keyes (read people like a book .txt) 📕

darkness in the middle of him, the ache for air, would eventually spread out into his arms and legs and the place where light came into his head. And then the enemy would triumph.

He had to break away, find his way back up to the air.

But as he thought this, the enemy only dragged him deeper with sweeps of its powerful tail. Parts of the metal things the small ones made went drifting by him. The things that floated on water, the flying-dead things like leafwings but faster. All falling in this pool that had no bottom. Like him.

Then the water slapped him, his ears rang from a sound like the booming the sky made, but closer to the booming made by the small ones with their flying-dead things. It hurt, but the enemy jerked in his grip. More booms came, and for the barest instant, the enemy lost his grip. Another sound happened just behind the enemy’s head. Kong tore his arms loose and swung.

The water made his arm too slow, but his clenched fingers still connected. It was like punching a mountain, but even a mountain could give way if you hit it hard enough.

He pulled his legs up, put both of them against the enemy’s chest, and pushed, even as everything seemed to be getting darker, like when the brighter circle light went into the water and the clouds blotted out the little dim ones. The middle of him hurt more than ever, aching for air. He pushed harder, broke free, but then the huge tail hit him, and all of the air came out of him in huge silver bubbles, and water rushed in to take its place.

*   *   *

The ocean’s surface boiled from underwater explosions, and then an immense column of water geysered up. Ilene braced herself for what would come next, but it was … calm. The water went still.

That was bad. Godzilla was completely at home in the depths. If only he came up, it probably meant he had prevailed. If neither came up, it probably meant the same thing. The only way this turned out well was if…

Her thoughts were interrupted when Kong’s hand shot out of the water and slammed onto the deck. Slowly, painfully, the Titan pulled himself onto the ship, coughing up tons of water and marine life. Then he collapsed, exhausted.

Relief flooded through her. He had survived. But had he won? She doubted it. If Godzilla came back for another try, it would all be over. Kong looked as if he could scarcely raise a fist.

*   *   *

Nathan could not focus. He was supposed to be in charge, why? Because he had such a great track record? All he wanted was out.

On one hand, he was aware that he was consumed with panic, and on the other hand, the nature of panic was that it would not let you think.

In the distance, Godzilla’s fins were briefly visible through the flame and smoke of the ruined fleet.

“He’s circling back,” he said.

“This won’t end until one of them submits,” Ilene said.

I know that! He screamed in his mind. Don’t you think I know that?

As long as the threat remained…

Wait. The threat. He remembered something, something Mark Russell had told him once over a beer in a hotel in Denver. About Godzilla, and Castle Bravo…

“Shut it down,” he told Admiral Wilcox. “All of it. Guns. Engines. Shut it down. Now!”

“If we do that, we’re dead,” Wilcox retorted.

“No,” Nathan said. “We’re playing dead.”

For a heartbeat or two, no one answered. But Ilene got it.

“Make him think he’s won,” she said.

The Admiral looked at Nathan, and his face changed. Nathan wasn’t quite sure how to read it, because he hadn’t seen the expression from him before. But it looked like … approval.

“Cut all engines,” the Admiral commanded. “Cut all power. Cease fire. No radio. Kill anything that makes noise.” He glanced out to sea. “This had better work.”

Everything went quiet, so quiet it was surreal. Nathan hadn’t realized just how much ambient noise there was even without the explosions until it was gone.

Come on, he thought. It had to look real enough; most of the ships really were gone. Smoke and fumes obscured vision; the water was full of their wreckage, of burning fuel and flotsam. And … bodies. Nathan had no sense of the casualty count yet. He prayed that it was small.

For a stretch of time, nothing happened. Then, in the distance, the water rippled as Godzilla’s head rose from it, just a little, like an alligator having a surreptitious look around.

Kong was still laid out on the main deck, exhausted, one eye wearily tracking for danger, his chest rising and falling slightly but the rest of him as still as a corpse.

Please let this work, Nathan silently pleaded. No more fighting, no more death. He had promised Ilene Kong would be okay. He had promised Jia.

Served him right for promising things not in his power to deliver. If Godzilla didn’t fall for this, everything was lost.

The reptilian head glided through the water, rotating here and there, surveying the wreckage, the flames, the silent remains of the armada.

Then Godzilla abruptly rose out of the water, slamming his tail into the waves and screeching a long nightmarish howl of victory, before plunging once more into the depths.

At first, Nathan feared it was just another ruse, that the Titan would surface again, right beneath their feet and savage what little was left of their expedition. But after several very long minutes, it seemed the ruse had worked.

Jia went to the window; Nathan saw Kong had lifted his head and was staring at her. The girl signed something. Then Kong slumped to the deck. His eyes closed, but he could still see the Titan’s chest moving.

THIRTEEN

“So, loyal listeners—class—I’m going to give you an assignment. Dr. Strangelove. It is a movie. And yeah, it’s in black-and-white—get over it. Get a little culture. You need to see it. Not because it’s funny—oh, it’s really funny. But