The GNP Presents:
Godzilla Minus One
Adapted from the story by Takashi Yamazaki
Novelization by Daniel DiManna
“You are only given one life, so cherish this moment. Cherish this day. Be kind to others. Be kind to yourself.”
–Yasujiro Tanaka, Nagasaki survivor (from the hibakusha testimonies of the 1945 Project)
CHAPTER 1
SUMMER, 1945
THE FINAL DAYS OF WORLD WAR II
The sound of roaring airplane engines sliced through the warm air over the South Pacific Ocean, carrying Koichi Shikishima far from the war that raged behind him. At last, his destination was in sight.
Shikishima’s Type-Zero fighter had been deployed roughly 14 kilometers from his current position. After lifting off from his carrier, only two possible fates had awaited him: to die by ramming his plane into an enemy ship, or to die from anti-aircraft artillery fire shooting him down before he could get too close. But Shikishima had found his chance to enact a third option, and had seized it without hesitation.
The island was growing larger through the acrylic glass of his cockpit visor. Odo was not a particularly large landmass, nor a particularly inviting one. But for Shikishima, it was salvation. A chance – however slim – to live.
The airstrip finally came into view below him, and Shikishima activated his plane’s landing gear. The closer he got, the more clearly he could perceive the deep holes that pockmarked the strip, the remnants of too many nighttime bombings to count. Its condition was far from ideal; Shikishima knew that few pilots could successfully achieve a landing on such rough terrain, but he had no choice. In fact, the damaged strip was part of his plan. If he could pull it off…
Shikishima’s hands instinctively activated his fighter’s vertical stabilizer and wing flaps, gently guiding the plane toward a now-inevitable touchdown. The wheels made contact with the ground, and Shikishima gently steered and pivoted the plane across the bombed-out strip, careful to avoid larger holes and glide across the smaller ones with minimal stress to the landing gear. Finally, with 50 meters of strip remaining, the fighter came to a halt.
Shikishima felt his chest tighten. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt sweat pour steadily down his back and arms. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal. He was in once piece, and so was his plane. He’d done it. And now, he was one step closer to returning home alive.
………………………………………………
The Odo Island Airfield Navy detachment was small, but they worked fast. No sooner had Shikishima climbed down from his plane than a dozen men or so descended upon it with instruments and a fuel line. They’d been told the reason for the emergency landing was an engine malfunction, that multiple power failures had occurred during deployment and the craft had been rerouted to Odo for repairs.
Now, Shikishima sat near the small barracks, hands clasped together in nervous anticipation as he tried to avoid eye contact with the men inspecting his plane. They crew had performed their task faster than expected; he’d been hoping for most an afternoon, maybe a day or so, to plan his next move. But it was beginning to look like time wasn’t on his side.
Shikishima dared to sneak a glance upward at the plane. He saw a tall man – an officer or lead technician of some kind – speaking with a maintenance soldier. He caught the soldier shooting a subtly accusing look in his direction and quickly averted his eyes back to the ground. The crunching sound of boots on gravel grew louder as he heard the tall man approach.
“Ensign Shikishima?”
The young soldier looked up to see the his visitor standing above him. He quickly rose to return the man’s salute, realizing too late the face that greeted him was a familiar one.
“I’m Tachibana, from the Maintenance Department of the Tsukuba Naval Air Corps. Remember me?”
Shikishima fought to conceal his surprise and embarrassment. Naturally, he remembered Tachibana from his training days, recalling him as a kind and stern presence at Tsukuba. He was a man admired and respected as much for his skills in aircraft maintenance as for his dedication to his men. Despite this, Tachibana’s presence on Odo was far from a comfort. Surely, Shikishima thought, there would be no fooling such a seasoned technician with his claims of engine troubles. He stifled a gulp and put on a cheerful countenance.
“Tachibana-san. Of course! Thank you for your help. I’m greatly in your debt.”
Tachibana smiled and turned his head toward the landing strip. “I’m amazed you were able to land that bucket of bolts on this Swiss cheese of a runway. You seem to be as reliable as ever.”
Shikishima let out a slight laugh, his panic receding. “In simulated dogfights, maybe, but suddenly I’m a real Special Attack pilot in actual combat…” The young man trailed off, worried his reticence might show through. Tachibana continued to look upon him with genuine concern. Despite Shikishima’s anxieties, he couldn’t deny that Tachibana carried a comforting air about him.
“In that case,” the officer responded, “be grateful for the downtime.”
Then, he took a step forward, moving his face closer to Shikishima’s ear and lowing his voice so that only the two of them could hear.
“But it’s odd… We’ve scoured your rig and can’t find anything wrong.”
Shikishima felt his hands begin to tremble. It was just as he’d feared. Tachibana had known all along that there was nothing wrong with the plane. He was a fool for believing he could bluff his way through without being found out. Still, his instincts compelled him to keep the rouse going as long as he could.
“What’re you implying?”
He’d spoken the words without looking at Tachibana, and he’d spoken them as indignantly as he could, hoping to come across as legitimately offended. Then, he sealed the deal by turning away and storming off toward the beach, leaving Tachibana behind.
Once he’d reached the edge of the rocky coastline, Shikishima stopped and sat, locking his eyes onto the sea. He watched as the blue waters rose and fell against the rocks, listening to the rolling of distant waves and the cries of seagulls overhead. He breathed in, trying not to think of his fellow pilots still fighting beyond the horizon line, of how they’d all likely be dead within the hour, if they weren’t gone already.
Tachibana was a smart man. He’d seen the truth right away. Shikishima supposed he should be grateful he hadn’t been detained on the spot for what he’d done. Perhaps retribution and punishment would come later. At the moment, Shikishima didn’t particularly care. What mattered was that he’d survived, that he’d made it to the island. Whatever wrath might come his way, however functional his airplane might’ve been, he knew that taking off from the island’s “Swiss cheese” runway was all but impossible. Landing his plane had been a miracle, but not even the cruelest of officers would allow Shikishima to attempt a departure on terrain that horrid.
He’d been found out earlier than he’d hoped, but the plan was still on track. With his plane grounded, he would have no choice but to stay on Odo. He could survive among the maintenance officers for days, weeks… however long it took for the war to end. Then, he could return home. He could fulfill his promise to his mother. He could live…
Shikishima wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting alone before the sound of footsteps greeted his ears. He turned to see one of the mechanics who’d worked on his plane, blotches of oil staining his off-white jumpsuit. He noticed the man’s name tag read “Saito.”
Without looking down at Shikishima, Saito broke the silence. “I’m on your side, you know.”
Shikishima perked up. Saito took a nervous glance back at the barracks to ensure he wouldn’t be overheard, pulled his hat from his head, and continued: “We need more people like you. Why obey an order to “die honorably” when the outcome is already clear?”
Shikishima didn’t respond. After a few moments of silence, Saito turned and retreated from the shore. Shikishima closed his eyes and breathed another deep sigh, fighting off the urge to shed a tear at the mechanic’s kind words. Perhaps he would find understanding and sympathy on Odo Island after all.
As the soldier continued to take in the sights and sounds of the sea, a subtle gurgling sound – like an air bubble bursting through thick waters – greeted his ears. It was a sound he hadn’t heard since sitting down, and it immediately attracted his attention downward. Below his feet, bobbing across the surface of the ocean, were the bodies of half a dozen strangely shaped fish. Their bodies were long and slim, clearly hailing from deep waters where little sunlight and no fisherman’s net could catch them. Each carcass was bloated, their eyes either distended or fully ruptured from their skulls. Their stomachs and internal organs had erupted from their mouths in bulbous, pink balls of twisted flesh.
Shikishima felt a shiver ripple down his spine. A mixture of curiosity and revulsion rose within him, and with it came something else… an unease the young man could neither define nor bring himself to fully confront.
How odd that on the day he chose to desert his duty and bluff his way out of a war, the sight of dead fish would be the sensation that unsettled him the most.
………………………………………………
Shikishima’s afternoon and evening had brought with it an unexpected and profound relief.
He’d only been on Odo Island a short time, yet the repair crew had almost immediately accepted him as a compatriot. The reasons behind his visit were well known amongst them all, and not one had raised a finger against him. On the contrary, he’d only just departed a friendly dinner he’d initially feared would be a pretense to a trial. Desertion of his duty as a Special Attack pilot was a crime, after all. And yet, the men around him held no grudges and, apparently, saw no dishonor in his actions.
The dinner had been accompanied by a bevy of encouraging words from the crew:
“I’ve been waiting for someone like you to come along.”
“How did you manage to escape a kamikaze deployment? Isn’t that almost impossible?
“This war is almost over, my friend. It would be foolish to die now.”
“If you stay here with us, you’ll be able to return to the mainland soon.”
Shikishima had been moved to tears in front of them. It seemed too good, too supportive, to be true. These were good men, kind souls who understood the senselessness of war. They’d sent far too many Special Attack pilots back into the field to die during their time on Odo. They were as ready for the conflict to be over as Shikishima was. And when it ended, he would return home alongside them. Perhaps they’d even shield him from the stigma and punishment of his refusal to follow through on his mission.
The only aspect of the dinner Shikishima found less than perfect was the crew’s choice of food: a pot full of the horribly exploded fish he’d seen floating off the coast earlier in the day. The mechanics claimed they were a delicacy on the island, cooked by the locals and far easier on the palette than they were on the eye. Shikishima had enjoyed the taste well enough, but the mental image of their bulging pupils and vomited internal organs made fully enjoying his meal difficult.
Now, under the freshly darkened skies over the island, Shikishima walked in silence. As supportive as the men had been, it was nice to find a moment of peace. There was much to ponder, and chief among his curiosities was Tachibana’s opinion of his desertion. The lead mechanic hadn’t been present for the dinner, and despite his friendliness and discretion upon Shikishima’s arrival, the pilot was stull unsure of his feelings. The support of the remaining crew would mean nothing if Tachibana decided to radio the mainland that they had a traitor in custody.
As Shikishima attempted to push the thought out of his mind, a siren began to blare from a nearby tower. The shrill sound stopped the young man in his tracks, and he began to scan the skyline for signs of enemy bombardment. Perhaps the Allies saw fit to turn the entire airstrip into one huge crater instead of a collection of a hundred smaller ones.
The maintenance crew had run out of the barracks at full speed, including Tachibana. Each held a gun in their hands as they joined Shikishima in watching the skies.
“Enemy attack?” one yelled.
“I don’t know!” another responded.
“What is it?”
“Something big.”
“A new Yankee weapon?”
The cacophonous shouting of the men was suddenly and definitively drowned out by a new sound, a deep, guttural rumbling that emanated from the nearby jungle. Shikishima immediately knew that it was something alive.
Tachibana shouted to the man in the watch tower. “Taki! Taki! Light the beach!”
“Roger!” Taki did as he was ordered, quickly switching on a massive floodlight and aiming it toward the cost.
The beam sliced through the darkness, instantly illuminating a massive, writhing shape between the trees. A flash of claws, teeth, and scales caught the eye of every man on the ground as they beheld an animal at least 15 meters in height, its huge body plowing through the trees and toward the tower. Taki could only muster a single, pained gasp before the creature slammed its head and torso through the tower, toppling it in mere seconds and with little effort.
Now plainly visible in the open field near the airstrip, the beast appeared for all the world to be prehistoric in nature; obviously reptilian with rock-like skin and a long tail that counterbalanced its large chest. It stood almost like a hunched man, with trunk-like legs resting on bird-like feet and folded arms tipped in wide hands with curved talons. A row of boney, fin-like spines ran the entire length of its back and tail, with the tallest protruding from just below its shoulders. Its head was large and angular, and even from a distance, the men could see its glistening teeth and a pair of eyes that exuded a predatory sense of intent.
Tachibana stared slack jawed ad the dinosaurian thing. “What in the hell is this?”
“It’s Gojira.”
The answer had come from a spectacled mechanic in the back of the group, his voice trembling as he spoke.
“What? What was that?”
“A local told me,” the man replied. “It’s a creature that lives off the coast. He brings up deep sea fish when he surfaces. The islanders… they call him Gojira.”
Shikishima felt his lips unconsciously parrot back the unusual name as he stared unblinkingly at the monster before him. “Go-Gojira…”
The creature – Gojira – had just lifted its foot above a collection of oil drums. With sparks still flying from the nearby remnants of the destroyed searchlight, the outcome was inevitable, and a simple stomp from the beast’s foot ignited a massive plume of fire that lit the entire scene like a nightmare. Gojira roared, arcing its back and distending its ugly jaws into the night sky. Then, it turned and began to slowly walk toward the crew.
“We’re done for…”
Tachibana had spoken quietly, but his next words would loud enough for all to hear.
“Fall back! Hide in the trench! Go back now!”
The men wasted precious time in sprinting for the nearby trench, which ran along the coastline for about 20 meters beneath an Earth-hued tarp. Shikishima felt hands grabbing him, pulling him backwards just enough to snap him back to his senses. He quickly joined the other men in the trench, finding himself positioned next to Tachibana.
“What is it?” he asked breathlessly, knowing full well there would be no satisfactory answer.
“We don’t know,” Tachibana replied. “Nobody knows.”
After a brief pause, Tachibana turned to face the terrified pilot.
“Ensign Shikishima… can you reach your 20mm gun?”
Shikishima peered out from the trench, his eyes falling upon his Zero fighter. It was parked right where the technicians had left it that morning, its cockpit and gun facing slightly to the right of the barracks.
“You’re our only gunner,” Tachibana continued. “We’re just mechanics. It has to be you!”
Shikishima surveyed the field. Gojira was still on the move, cautiously prowling on a straight line that would eventually lead him to the trench. His path would soon intersect with the Zero’s guns; Shikishima could fire on it without needing to reposition the plane. It would be a perfect shot. Unless…
“What if I only make it angry, sir?”
Tachibana spun on the pilot, a mix of fear and – for the first time that day – legitimate impatience on his face. “A 20mm gun can kill anything. It’s our only chance! Now, hurry before it gets too close!”
With a gentle but firm push, Tachibana shooed Shikishima out of the trench. “Go, hurry!” Against his better judgement, Shikishima felt his feet moving under him, and crawled onto the grassy field, fully exposing himself to the advancing beast. After all he’d been through, he was once again staring down the barrel of suicide. Perhaps death had followed him to the place he thought would be his salvation. Or perhaps he was being presented with redemption, a chance to win a fight and prove – if only to himself – that his desertion had not been an act of cowardice.
Shikishima made a break for a nearby tent, briefly crouching behind it before jogging to the side of his plane. Silently, he crept up the ladder and gently slid open the hatch to the cockpit. He quickly seated himself, fumbled for the trigger to his gun, and looked up.
The monster stood before him, towering larger than life over his plane. Over him. As its massive head grew closer to the plane’s viewfinder, the intelligence behind its eyes became all the more apparent. It was thinking, about what Shikishima didn’t know. But he was sure the monster knew he was there, assessing him, judging him, waiting…
Shikishima’s hand began to tremble on the firing trigger. A sudden, all-encompassing paralysis had overtaken him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. The world seemed to fade out of existence. Soon, nothing was left but terrified man and horrific, unknowable monster, with its conniving stare, nimble limbs, and the repugnant, stinking smell of fish on its breath.
He couldn’t shoot. It wouldn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t. It would only enrage the beast, and he would die alone in his plane, as if commanded by a fate only now catching up to him. Surely, the thing would leave. If he just waited, if he just stayed quiet…
His hands still shaking, Shikishima watched in frozen passivity as Gojira lumbered outside the range of his gun. It was heading in the direction of the trench. perhaps it was hunting, searching for the tiny beings that cowered only a few meters from its position. What it would do once it found them, Shikishima could only guess. Maybe this wasn’t a hunt, but rather a curious search. The beast had clearly seen him huddling in his tiny machine, and it had not attacked. He could only pray the men in the trench would be so lucky.
No sooner had the thought passed through his mind than the sound of gunshots rang through the night. One of the mechanics had opened fire. The bullet collided with Gojira’s snout, startling the beast into a roar. Shikishima spun his head toward the trench as it illuminated with the flashing lights of a dozen firing rifles. Shot after shot hit their target, but the beast showed no signs of succumbing to injury. Instead, it began to charge forward, its rage seeming to sizzle the very air around it. The voice of Tachibana echoed from the trench: “Get out! Get out now!” A stream of panicked men erupted from beneath the tarp, flooding across the field between the coast and the barracks. Tachibana held back to usher his crew to safety before him, and when the enraged foot of Gojira finally stomped down upon the trench, both he and his remaining men disappeared in a cloud of dirt and debris.
When clarity returned, Shikishima witnessed a mechanic dragging Tachibana from the wreckage. A dark stain was spreading across his left pantleg, and an even darker shadow was quickly enveloping both men from above. Shikishima’s mouth attempted to shout a warning, but no sound came out, and he watched in stunned silence as the mighty head of Gojira descended on the mechanic, its jaws clamping around his midsection – just above Tachibana’s head – before lifting him skyward and hurling his severed body far into the distance.
The monster whipped around, following the screams and continued rifle fire of the scattered men. A single, well-placed footfall crushed five survivors into the mud. Another was plucked from the ground by Gojira’s maw and flung into silence. Three more perished when the beast brought its tail down upon them, and a deft swipe of its tip shattered the barracks into splinters.
A dozen meters away, from a vantage point removed enough to afford a full view of the horror, Tachibana sat alone, his leg red with blood and his eyes wet with angry, streaming tears.
“Shikishima!”
The paralyzed pilot finally broke his gaze from the rampaging Gojira and back to ground level. Saito – the man who had shown such kindness to him upon his landing – was running toward the plane, waving his arms. “I’ll lure Gojira this way! Shoot him with the 20mm when–“
Saito never finished his sentence. The fangs of the monster had clamped down on him, silencing him forever as his lifeless body was lifted and thrown away.
At last, Shikishima found his voice, letting lose a terrified scream as he desperately clawed his way out of the cockpit of his fighter. Once again, there was nothing between the monster and himself, but this time, there was no doubt that staying still meant certain death. As he ran for his life in the opposite direction, Gojira plunged its open mouth toward the empty plane, bit down hard, and lifted its cumbersome frame just high enough to toss it roughly 10 meters into the distance. The impact was enough to ignite the craft’s freshly topped-off fuel tank, and the resulting explosion blew Shikishima off his feet. He hit the ground hard, rolling several feet before coming to rest in the grass.
An all-encompassing darkness began to overtake Shikishima’s overwhelmed senses. The sickening smell of blood-soaked dirt filled his nostrils as his fading eyes witnessed a giant bathed in a sea of fire, and the sound of its wrathful roar guided him violently into a long, tortured sleep.
CHAPTER 2 COMING SOON!
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