“This thing’s ass,” Leopold commented, looking at the exposed wiring.
“Cool,” Peter shrugged, disregarding his complaints.
“Can you take it seriously, boy? This isn’t a bloody school project and whatnot, this thing’s gonna kill someone if it breaks.”
Peter took a deep breath but did not manage to calm himself in time. “Wow, you don’t say?” he scoffed. “ANY part of it breaking basically kills the user. But it WON’T, because I’ve built it?” He tapped his own chest with his thumb.
Shout proved loud enough to get Ichi’s attention, but thankfully, not Ni’s – the local hero was too busy suffering to notice. He made a calming gesture towards Ichi.
“You can’t say that! What you’ve done is…”
“Working as intended,” Peter stated flatly.
“Dogshit,” the engineer huffed. “That’s what I meant.”
“And what exactly would you change here, mister ‘I can do better’?”
“The countercurrent for instance – it’s the biggest piece of crap I’ve ever witnessed.” Leopold pointed at the rig of magnets.
“Suuure. How else would you dispose of the current in the arm?” Peter crossed his arms.
“Use non-conductive armour for instance. Problem solved.”
“Alright. Give it then.” Peter gestured at him, which got Leopold visibly upset.
“That’s not the point! It was just one solution!”
“A solution you can’t make is not a solution.” Peter shrugged. “A thought experiment at best. Try something you CAN make.”
“Fine then. Just ground it.” Leopold pointed at the floor with impatience.
“Ground what? An entire dragon?”
“The device, damn you! Put a wire down the titan’s leg and lead it into a spike that digs into the ground.” Leopold demonstrated the concept by tracing his own leg. “And before you ask – just do it on both legs, so it’s always grounded. Big deal.”
“Oh, so not only do you want to impair their movement despite them already being at a huge disadvantage… But your system also means that the wearer dies if they jump, get knocked over or…”
“Fucking hell, you’re impossible, milksop,” Leopold huffed, completely red. “Why can’t you just listen to your elders…”
Peter stared him down for a goo few seconds, before unceremoniously dropping his tools on the floor and throwing his hands up. “Go ahead – fix it. Improve it. I don’t care; you can dismantle the entire thing. Know this though – when you fuck it up and a kaiju ends up eating us, I will be laughing at you in its stomach,” he announced, before leaving their makeshift workstation.
Hearing a tirade of muffled curses, he made his way towards their usual showtime spot, where Ichi was resting. Her head served as something akin to a lighthouse for the groups of humans swarming on the floor… actually, maybe ‘watchtower’ would have been a more apt description, seeing how her slightly suspicious, yet extremely scrutinizing eyes followed individual workers no matter how desperately they tried to avoid it.
Regardless, the base Kendall ripped-off the celling got easily set up and reconstructed – unsurprising, considering that they didn’t have to erect it over a hundred meters off the ground this time.
Peter climbed up a few meters and threw himself against the pile of leather, before letting out a deep sigh.
“You don’t like the bald one. I don’t like him either,” she commented, glancing at the short engineer trying and failing to inspect the combat gear.
“Nah, it’s not that…” He waved dismissively. “Yelling at each other is basically half of what engineers do… He’s just testing how confident I am with my things – no one sane will actually disassemble someone else’s work in our field.”
“I still don’t like him,” she repeated.
“Too bad… what are we watching by the way?” he asked, not bothering to open his eyes.
“… News I guess?” she answered after double checking on the projector.
“Anything important?” he prodded, not really expecting an answer.
“I lost focus when some guy started promising rioters cheap houses… o-or something like that, I didn’t really care.” She shrugged.
Before he could come to a conclusion about how little he also cared, a familiar voice of the lieutenant dispersed his thoughts. “That would be Neumann, I believe. He…”
“Fuck… Neumann…” Ni grumbled from the bedroom, startling the medics tending to her and turning a lot of gazes – theirs included.
Frederick awkwardly faced them again; his aura of authority shattered once more by Ni’s sheer idiocy. “… Is he…” He licked his lips. “I mean, is she always like that?”
“You’ll get used to it,” Peter sighed. “Are we… ready to talk finally?”
“Indeed.” Frederick nodded. “Since the… crisis is over, at least temporarily.”
“So will I finally learn why are you in our house?” Ichi asked heavily.
Frederick nodded and waved at Michael to approach, then sighed and adjusted his shirt. “I guess I owe you at least that much... Like I’ve mentioned before, our outpost got destroyed, and we needed a place to at least hide...”
“And you chose to hide in our bedroom?” Ichi huffed.
“It makes sense when you think about it – your cave is deep, remote, and well fortified. And with the...” He hesitated, glancing to his left. “...The bedroom being the furthest point, anything invading your cave would have spent the least amount of time there. So, we... Put our base in there, set it up on the ceiling so it wouldn’t get trampled and began camouflaging it.”
Ichi opened her mouth, but hesitated to think everything through, before reluctantly nodding – after all, it nearly worked on her.
“You could’ve at least asked,” she grumbled.
“We thought you were dead...” Michael chimed in, finally reaching the dining spot. “Or at least, that you fled the island for good.”
“Well, we have not,” Ichi eyed the new arrival, causing him to shrink a little. “And I demand to know when you will leave.”
Frederick and Michael exchanged worried glances, apparently trying to coerce each other into answering first.
“Fuck’s sake, just say it,” Peter sighed heavily. “She’s not going to eat you or anything.”
“They didn’t need to know that,” Ichi hissed, earning a few concerned looks.
Finally, the Lieutenant decided that his rank unfortunately meant something and anxiously cleared his throat. “We are not leaving. Command is sending us reinforcements.”
Ichi focused on him in silence, gaze heavy enough to flatten a man. Peter was used to receiving that very stare – it was her default whenever she tried to coerce him. It stopped working on him a while back... But on the unaccustomed...
“P-please, u-u-understand t-that...”
“Absolutely not,” she cut Frederick off. “I will not have swarms of tiny bugs scurrying around my house all day. You have to leave.”
“Mister... I-I mean, Miss Ichi...” Frederick stuttered. “Even without kaijus, this island’s dangerous for us. This place is the only...”
“Yes, I know it’s dangerous,” Ichi interrupted again. “It was never meant for your kind – we’ve made it for ourselves,” she sighed. “Why is it always so hard for you to grasp?”
“… I’m sorry... Always?” Michael chimed in curiously.
“Yes... The island’s basically littered with ruined ports and landing spots...” Ichi swiped a hand down her face. “Nearly all fled and those who didn’t, ended up either crushed or eaten. Because...”
“...The island wasn’t meant for us,” Michael finished for her, eyeing her curiously. “Would you mind answering a few questions later?”
“I would mind, because you won’t be here later. You are leaving, remember?” she reiterated, cocking her head.
Everyone fell silent, too scared to disobey her, yet unable to fulfill her demand. Peter knew how screwed they were, smashed between a dragon and their idiotic orders.
“M-maybe you could reconsider, or…”
“Sorry man, but she’s quite uhhh…” Peter hesitated. “…stubborn. Crowds are not her thing.”
“Thanks for selling out my secrets, Pete,” Ichi grumbled, before turning to Frederick. “If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll put you all in a bucket and throw it into the ocean. Understood?” She extended her finger, nearly touching him.
The man looked in equal parts scared and bewildered by the threat. “What if we just…”
“No,” she cut hm off. “I want you out of here. End of story.”
“That’s a little unreasonable, don’t you think?” Michale chimed in.
“That’s a funny statement,” Peter laughed.
“Exactly. I don’t want to deal with bug-sized people constantly swarming the floor. Dealing with one is bad enough.”
“Thanks, love,” Peter replied dryly, not even bothering to grace her with a look, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from smirking.
On their part, the two men in front of him glanced a few times between him and Ichi, with something rapidly approaching a thousand-yard stare. Not exactly unwarranted, all things considered.
“What about a compromise? You set up your base near our cave, instead of in it? Dragon scent scares-off most titans, so safety is not a concern...” He turned to Ichi. “Would that be acceptable?”
“It works for us,” Frederick hastily assured.
“What’s in it for us?” Ichi asked, cocking her head inquisitively. “They’ll still take our water, food and electricity…” She shook her head. “We don’t have enough as is after you’ve dismantled two windmills.”
“Wind turbines,” Peter corrected. “But yes, she has a point. What’s in it for…”
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“We will improve your grid and set up sentries around the area to scout for kaijus,” Frederick quickly assured. “And I promise, my men won’t bother you… too much.”
Peter scratched his chin, considering their offer, before turning to Ichi. “What do you think?”
She pressed her lips together, not pleased by the proposition... But not livid either. She glanced at him, her eyes betraying that she deemed it tolerable, even if she would never admit it.
“Fine,” Ichi huffed. “But I’m NOT responsible for any vagabonds who end up as pancakes. You will watch our step, not the other way around. Understood?”
“Understood. Thank you.” Frederick bowed, gracious for the scraps she so mercifully decided to offer.
She waved at the two men, prompting them to begin a long trek back to their little box-base, escorted by Ichi’s gaze… at least for the first ten seconds. Peter turned to her, grinning widely, his fellow grifter reciprocated with a smug smirk. Their plan worked – they were getting new wind turbines for free… And the guy even thanked them for it.
***
They’ve spent the next two hours watching a movie about the woes of an old-timey father with four daughters, each in an interracial marriage. It was probably a little racist, but undeniably funny, the fact that Ichi and Kendall also found it hysterical serving as proof of that. The racist aspect was as usual lost on them. Once the sequel – apparently released almost a decade later – began playing, Peter slipped down from Ichi’s belly, deciding to take a walk outside. One long trek later, he kicked out the human sized door, letting the slightly acidic breeze wash over him. And yet, it was far from quiet, with a team of scientists and workers trying – and mostly failing – to gather samples from their would-be doom. So far, they’ve managed to stretch out the kaiju’s limbs a little... Which was honestly impressive, considering they only had two trucks and a few forklifts to work with.
He approached Michael, who busied himself overseeing two men attempting to cut-out a fragment of the blackcale’s armour with blowtorches – with about as much success as one would expect.
“You won’t pierce it like this. It’s…”
“Heat resistant,” the man interrupted. “I know.”
Yet despite that, his team continued their futile endeavor. He stopped to watch the workers struggle, and about ten seconds later turned to face the scientist.
“I couldn’t cut it with anything up to five thousand degrees. You’re just wasting fuel.”
“Technically, we are just running tests. It’s a rare opportunity to test reactions of live specimen,” he explained, hitting a button on a mobile control center.
Peter’s eyes widened as he unconsciously stepped back from the carcass. Thankfully, it remained lifeless and motionless.
“Relax, it’s not getting up,” Michael assured. “The titan cremated most of its insides. But its head is still alive, cannibalising its own brain for nutrients as we speak.”
Peter glanced at the man with no confidence, before returning his eyes to the dead monster – from this angle, he noticed traces of a strange apparatus attached to the thing’s head, which either monitored its vitals, or sent electricity into it. His curiosity did not escape Michael’s attention. “It’s unconscious. We estimate it will die within two, maybe three hours,” he explained. “There’s only so much brain matter you can do without.”
“… Arguable,” Peter forced out a small joke.
“Hah, perhaps…” Michael sighed, rubbing the base of his nose. “We’re lucky as hell your thing worked… How did you know the melting point?”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I set it up to the exact temperature of Jaeger blades and hoped it would work.”
“Cozy twenty thousand… You can reduce it a bit then, the melting point’s fourteen thousand six-hundred and twenty-three Kelvin.”
Peter paused, his mind racing to consider the implications of such a specific number… and if it meant anything. Was there… anything to extrapolate from it?
“… Is it… actually the melting point, or does it just have a massive specific heat?” he tried, not really convinced.
“That’s one of the things we’re trying to test… So, our lethal means can be ‘optimised’,” he explained, showing his obvious disdain in the way he said that last word. “But so far, it’s almost certainly the actual melting point.”
Peter nodded, continuously rotating the idea in his mind. Lowering the temperature by less than a third could give him… well, a dragon, an extra punch… but at the cost of coming dangerously close to making the blackscale’s skin tank the hit. So, unless he figured out a way to add more power cells to the backpack, or make a reactor outright, it was pointless. Unless… unless he went the other way and reduced the weight of the battery instead. That could potentially work… His eyes wandered over the kaiju’s form. He even had a nice punching bag to test the optimal temperature now.
He noticed that one of the kaiju’s many eyes… moved. In his direction. Just like the rest of its body, it was completely black, with no real way to tell its exact focus point. It could have been a twitch… But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was staring straight at him, following his every movement. Brushing off the uncanny feeling and reminding himself of his real objective, he turned to Michael again. “Pretty convenient you’ve found this place so quickly.”
“We have entire island mapped out.” The man faced him again. “You can stop pretending you didn’t know and I will stop pretending we didn’t do it.”
“Reasonable.” Peter nodded. “And truth be told, I don’t fucking care. Though sending drones into our house was too much,” he pointed out.
“We were just following orders.” Michael shrugged. “And you’ve gotten rid off everything we’ve sent regardless.”
“Oh, so it was you?” Peter crossed his arms. “Good to know. Also, I thought we were supposed to cut the bullshit? We haven’t been home for weeks; you’ve moved in in the meantime… The place’s probably swarming with cameras at this point.”
“It’s not, but nothing I could say would convince you otherwise,” the man responded, turning away to look at the kaiju. “And we don’t have equipment to waste on spying on you and your… friends.”
Michael sent another shock through the kaiju’s head, which made the eye change its focus onto him, confirming that the monster was indeed at least semi-conscious. Incredible. He let out a bit of anger by giving the thing a finger.
“Oh, and by the way, don’t bother implanting anything into Ni. I’m gonna blast her with EMP either way. And if I find anything… Well, I might very well tell her,” Peter threatened, tapping his chin.
“Haven’t even thought about it. Not my jurisdiction,” Michael admitted. “But… Since the titans are unwilling… Would you mind answering a few questions?”
“I guess.” Peter shrugged. “What do you want to know? The recordings are true if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That I know – sections confirmed it.” Michael sat on a flip chair and offered him the same thing, which Peter accepted after a moment of hesitation. “I’m more interested in the titans themselves.”
“The girls? Sure, I can tell you about them… as long as it’s not too personal.”
The scientist took out a notepad and nervously tapped it, before taking a deep breath. “Ichi, Ni and… Kendall… those are their names, right?”
Peter nodded, prompting him to continue.
“That last one…”
“Don’t know,” he cut him off. “Changed it a while ago, but no idea why.”
“I see… Do they have surnames or their equivalents?”
Peter blinked, surprised by the question. Strange to admit, but he never even thought about asking them about it. Then again, with the genesis of their names being what it was, he would be extremely surprised if they did have one.
“None that I’m aware of,” he replied diplomatically.
“Mhm…” Michael wrote a few words, before abruptly pausing and sighing. “Okay, I have to ask… ‘Love’?”
“We agreed on no personal questions,” Peter replied sourly.
“Yes, but…” Michael pointed at the enormous door. “Titan.”
“Yes, titan,” Peter grumbled.
“…Why? How does that even work?” Michael spread out his arms.
“Exactly how you imagine,” Peter scoffed, before starting to get up. “If you don’t have more fitting questions, then…”
“No no, wait! Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” He cleared his throat, the look of stoicism returning to his face. “Can you tell me… what are they like? All of them I mean.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Peter decided to humour him and merely adjust his seat. “That’s like asking what an entire household is like,” Peter explained, eyeing him. “One being loud and obnoxious doesn’t make all of them…”
“No, you misunderstood,” Michael cut him off. “I’m not asking about their personalities… I’m asking about…” he hesitated. “How they differ.”
“Isn’t that just describing personality with a weird point of reference?”
“Again – no. I’m not talking about personality. The thing is… They are a different species, right? Non-human. I want to know if there are… psychological differences between us and them.”
Finally understanding the question – and once again, finding himself unprepared for it – Peter paused, ceasing all movement to think about it. What Michael said was obviously true, yet at the same time… difficult to pin down. Size was an obvious one, but would humans really behave much differently when confronted with a thumb-sized species?
Yes – humans would be far worse, but mostly because of a larger choice of potential bad apples. Did them being predators change their behavior? He remembered all the times when Ichi took him hunting and… maybe… a little?
“I guess they’re less considerate with animals?” he tried cautiously. “But that could be just because they have been hunting from day one. Oh, and flaying and dismembering things with their fangs is nothing special. I doubt anyone sane would be doing that.”
Michael eyed him for a few seconds, before scribbling down a few more sentences, urging him to continue. Which only exposed his surprising lack of knowledge further.
“I… guess the ability to fly makes them perceive the world differently?” he mumbled, remembering Ni’s trenches. “Like, we think about this island and see distances between places, between points. They see places they can land in and places they cannot, and the distances between places they can are basically irrelevant. Unless they’re carrying a lot of course, but that’s a different topic.”
“Alright…” Michael nodded, visibly more satisfied with this answer. “The world is their airport and when it’s not, it’s a huge deal.”
“Basically?” Peter admitted, not entirely convinced. “I don’t know what else I could tell you – they’re big, they don’t eat very often and they’re… not that concerned about wounds, since they’ll just heal in days most of the time.”
“They have a healing factor?” the scientist inquired.
“Nothing crazy, but that wound Ichi has? She’ll be walking again in two, three days tops.”
“I guess that makes some sense. If everything was a papercut, I would be doing reckless stuff all the time,” Michael mused. “You know, those answers are helpful, but still not exactly what I was hoping for… You’re… How to say it…” He scratched his chin with a pencil. “You’re giving me things that are derivatives of their physiology. I wanted to know if there’s something less… I don’t know how to say it. Less tangible? Less obvious?”
“Less obvious,” Peter scoffed. “What, did you expect them to have a blue and orange mor…”
He suddenly paused, feeling a slight tingle in his subconscious. There was something like that, even if it was somehow obscured – hidden by a variable that… that…
That variable was him. His arrival… His addition to the group. He usually didn’t notice it, because… well, obviously he didn’t know them before they met, so he was only familiar with their altered dynamic. But he had a glimpse of their previous one – that one day before he got into their heads completely. One particular memory stood out. Not of Ichi, not of Kendall, but… of Ni. How his talk with her made her experience what looked like the very first instance of self-reflection in her life. And later, how shocked both Kendall and Ichi were because of that. Considering how old she actually was…
“They are static,” Peter announced, still a bit lost in thought.
“Come again?”
“Static. They are static,” he repeated. “They almost never change on their own, and once a relation is settled… well, it’s settled. They… settle upon who they are and just go, not looking back. Does that make sense? Oh, and they tend to have a very good memory.”
Michael hesitated, as if not sure if he wanted to write, or inquire further. Eventually, he settled for the latter. “That’s actually pretty useful. They need good first impressions, huh?” He began scribbling down his notes. “And it makes sense on some level – if I were a thousand years old, I’d probably take everything slowly as well.”
“… A thousand?” Peter asked, raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah, like those titans. Considering the average titan lives for around two, sometimes three millennia…”
“You don’t know?” Peter cut him off. “They aren’t a thousand years old. They are sixty-five million years old.”
Michael froze, before slowly lifting his eyes onto him. Eyes that bore in them… something not exactly shocked. Almost uncanny. “Like the asteroid?”
“Like the asteroid,” Peter confirmed, pushing Michael’s gaze even further down the creepy path.
“It makes sense now…” Michael mumbled to himself, standing up and withdrawing to the tent without sparing Peter another word.
Before Peter could muster himself to ask what he was talking about, he felt the ground quake. Quickly confirming that it wasn’t the kaiju getting up, he turned just in time to witness the monstrous door swinging open, revealing the one dragon perpetually consumed by anxiety.
“L-little o…” she mumbled before her eyes located him on the ground. “Oh, little o-one…”
She made a few steps, rattling the ground enough to make everyone working on the kaiju fall over and spill their tools.
“Yes, Ken?” he asked as she kneeled in front of him, unaffected by the tremors.
“I-I… W-we need help…”
“Sure, dear. What’s the matter?”
“Uhmmm… The mouse’s unplugged a-and… y-you’ve left the a-autoplay on…”
He blinked, struggling to even imagine the horrors of autoplay with their search history, before rushing back inside.
***
“We have to take America back! This is not the time for tears and weakness – this is a time for strength and sacrifice! We need you – all of you – to give everything for the country and take it back! Take back the coast from the kaijus, and the White House from those filthy…”
No, she was not listening. Not. Listening. She had enough to deal with as it was, there was no need to strain her sanity any further.
She just needed something to do – anything really, just to shift her focus from the unhinged screams of the enraged mob on the screen. That creatures so tiny could store so much rage within them was…
No, don’t you dare listen to it! Focus on… Something, focus on… on your leg, yes!
Her calf ached when she moved it – a cruel reminder of the spike that went through it. Sure, she wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the bandage seemed determined to prove otherwise.
That might have been it – changing the bandage was definitely something that would distract her from the screen, even if for all the wrong reasons. Glancing around and not seeing any alternatives, her fingers moved to carefully unwrap the bloodstained fabric. She hissed a tune whose sole purpose was to chase away curses from her lips – a task she wasn’t entirely successful in. Nevertheless, her glistering scales soon saw the light of day again – just in time to witness Peter and Kendall returning to the living room.
“Can you… help me up, dear?” Peter asked without much hope.
Kendall’s response was predictable – she shook her head, hands anxiously pushing against her chest. Determined to rid herself of the pointless abuse, Ichi crawled through her resting spot and stretched out to pinch her beloved, before carefully placing him on top of the counter.
“Thanks!” he exclaimed and not five seconds later, ended her torment.
Ichi sighed with relief, welcoming the blessed silence, before reminding herself that she shouldn’t leave her wounds open.
Glancing at her pitch-black bones visible through the hole, she wrapped her calf with fresh bandages.
***