Guardian Bravo was closing in on Shrikethorn from one direction, flicking the Arc Whip out to full extension, as Saber Athena dug herself out of the Kaiju Museum and attacked Shrikethorn from the other direction. Bracer Phoenix kept pounding Hakuja, keeping the bloodied Kaiju from getting all the way out of the tunnel it had dug under the street. Gipsy Avenger brought one more building down on Raijin, reaching over a block to sling the biggest skyscraper yet. The cumulative beating, and the greater mass of this last building, finally stopped Raijin. The huge Kaiju struggled to free itself from the mass of girders and concrete, shrieking in anger and frustration. Finally it was a static target, and Gipsy Avenger took advantage with a barrage of plasma missiles.
Jake almost didn’t dare to believe it, but he thought they might have the Kaiju on the ropes.
32
EDITORIAL: OKAY FINE
I WAS WRONG.
How much more do I need to say? A week ago I believed that the Drone Jaegers were the future, that we didn’t need the PPDC, that we should just turn the whole thing over to the Genius in White, Shao Liwen, and let her handle Jaegers from here on out.
Well, that first Drone deployment showed me the error of my ways, didn’t it?
And then new Breaches opened up, and now the word from Tokyo is there are four Jaegers—human-powered Jaegers, with a total of nine Rangers, and may God* bless every one of ’em—putting the boot to the Kaiju. Where are the Drones? In pieces, because they got corrupted. Either by a software flaw or some kind of Kaiju thing, depends on which rumors you believe, but you know what? It doesn’t matter. Real people are out fighting this battle for us. They’re in machines, but they aren’t machines. We need to remember that. We need to put ourselves on the line for each other and not sit back and wait for machines to do it for us.
Go get ’em, Rangers. I’ll never say a bad word about the PPDC again.
Note: NOT the God of the Kaiju nuts, who seem to think God is some kind of Cthulhu.
From a machine shop deep in the bowels of the Shatterdome, Shao Liwen was watching the feed from Tokyo. She was filthy, stained with sweat and grease from the machines she was working on. After the Jaegers had launched, she had realized there was possibly one more thing she could do to help. But judging from what she saw on the screen, maybe they didn’t need any more of her help. “They’re winning,” she said, trying not to sound too surprised.
“That’s what we do,” Gottlieb said from the War Room. Then after a pause he added, “Most of the time.”
He was watching the same holofeed Shao had down in the machine shop. Hakuja was badly wounded, Shrikethorn and Raijin hurting but still dangerous. The fight wasn’t over yet. But all four Jaegers were still in good shape. Only Saber Athena had suffered any damage to speak of.
And even though the battle between Jaeger and Kaiju had already moved miles toward the outskirts of the Tokyo megacity, Mount Fuji was still miles away.
For the first time since he had understood the Precursors’ plan, Gottlieb was feeling confident—at least mostly confident—that they were going to win.
The holo screen over his terminal, showing operational data on all four Jaegers as well as assessments of the Kaiju’s status, flickered and went out. A moment later it came back on, but now the data visualization was replaced by a head-and-shoulders shot of Newt Geiszler, looking into what must have been a data pad camera. Behind him, part of a Shao V-Dragon was visible on what must have been a rooftop, against the backdrop of the Tokyo skyline. In the middle distance, Gottlieb could see the smoke rising from the site of the battle, and hear the roars of the Kaiju over the thunder of railguns and missiles. Far away, partially masked by the smoke, was the magnificent peak of Mount Fuji.
“Newton,” Geiszler said, his tone accusatory and worried and angry all at once.
“Hey, buddy,” Newt said. “Moshi moshi. So you finally figured out your little rockets. Good for you, Hermann.” He put a little mocking twist on Gottlieb’s name.
“That’s not all we’ve figured out,” Hermann said.
Jules had seen Newt appear and left her terminal to stand next to Hermann. “We know what you’re trying to do.”
“It’s not him,” Gottlieb objected. “It’s those things in his head.”
Newt shrugged. “Everybody has things in their head. Mine are just a lot more fun.”
“I’ve been in your mind, too, Newton,” Gottlieb reminded him. He had to appeal to the connection between them, the history they had shared, the awful danger of the Kaiju Drift they had survived together. That was the only way they might be able to bring him back. “You’re stronger than they know. You can fight them. You can stop them from doing this.”
Just as it had the last time, this appeal seemed to give Newt—the real Newt—a momentary burst of strength. He twitched, trying to break free of the Precursor control. “I… I couldn’t stop Drifting with the Kaiju brain. I tried, but she made me feel so… alive. They’re in my mind. They’re controlling me. I’m sorry, Hermann—”
“You can fight them!” Gottlieb cried. “You can stop them from doing this.”
For a moment Newt froze, and when he could move again, Gottlieb could tell the moment had passed. The Precursors were in control again. “Nice try,” Newt sneered. “You don’t even know what this is. How all the pieces fit together. Want me to show you? Want to see what else I was whipping up in Siberia? Yes? No? How about yes.”
He raised one finger in a flourish and stabbed it down onto his data pad, holding eye contact through the camera the whole time. “This is gonna be so cool,” he said. “I mean, not for
