This had to work. They could enter Hollow Earth without Kong, but it might take years to find what they were looking for. And with Godzilla gone mad, they did not have years. Or even weeks.
Kong scooped up some snow in his palm, looking puzzled, then angry. He roared as he sifted it through his fingers; he clearly did not approve of the frozen precipitation or his surroundings in general. How could he? He had spent all of his life on Skull Island, near the equator, where even the tallest mountain peaks had never known the kiss of snow or ice. There were no trees here, no underbrush, no waterfalls, and there had not been for tens of millions of years. It was difficult to imagine what Kong was thinking right now, what he believed was going on. How he would react.
It was easier to imagine, Nathan thought, as Kong clambered to his feet, who the Titan would blame for the situation. He had seen the intelligence in those eyes, the accusation. Kong knew who had done this to him.
Time to face the music, he thought.
Kong rose up from the frozen field below until his head was level with their perch. He stared right at them, anger evident on his features, so humanlike and so alien at the same time. His gaze switched between the three of them, as if weighing them somehow. Deciding something.
Then he huffed, reached down and scooped up more snow. He presented it to Jia, his brow furrowed. Nathan wasn’t an expert on Kong’s nonverbal communication, but it didn’t take a degree in ethology to figure this one out.
What’s going on? he was asking.
Kong was looking to Jia for the answer. That was a good sign. But Jia was no easier to control than Kong, was she?
Jia looked at Ilene, then back at Kong. The moment stretched out. Then, making her decision, Jia pointed to the Vortex.
Home, she signed.
That’s right, Nathan thought.
But when Kong looked at the rift, he seemed anything but convinced. Jia held up her little Kong doll, pointed to it, then back to the Vortex.
Nathan realized he was still holding his breath, and he was starting to get dizzy. He let it out and drew in the clean, cold air. But it did not make him feel more confident.
“It’s not working,” he said.
“Wait,” Ilene said. “Just wait.”
But that wasn’t good enough. All of those people who had died at sea, trying to get them here. And for what? It rested on a little girl being able to convince her god to do something he didn’t want to do. Kong had been told he was going “home” before, on the ship. Now he was in a strange, cold place—clearly not “home”—and now Jia was pointing him toward the only place around that looked even worse than where he already was.
“What…” Nathan said, thinking out loud. “What if she tells him that there are more down there? Like him?”
“We don’t know that,” Ilene said.
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Nathan demanded. “He’s not moving! We lost our entire fleet getting here. There’s no way back for him. And he can’t survive here. This is your theory. Hollow Earth is his home.”
* * *
As Kong’s options dwindled, for days Ilene had kept the despair at bay by trying to imagine alternatives. There were islands in the Pacific no one lived on. They were small, to be sure, but some were bigger than Kong’s containment had been. The ecosystem of Skull Island was destroyed, but before that destruction was complete, a team had collected seeds, spores, cell tissue, and even eggs from many of the doomed species. Why not populate some nowhere island with Skull Island flora and fauna, build a containment around it, and start again? It wouldn’t even have to be an island—they could build a preserve in some remote corner of the Congo or the Amazon Basin.
It was a nice thought. An alternative to the unknown. But now that they were actually here, on the precipice, the fantasy evaporated like morning dew in the desert. Even if she could get the funding and the staff to build such a place, it would still be cage, a zoo, a test tube. Kong would never be free, never in control of his own destiny. The next time somebody like Nathan came up with some “use” for Kong, he would be just as vulnerable—and the next person might not be as well-intentioned as Nathan.
Anyway, if Kong was anywhere in the known world other than in containment on Skull Island, odds were good that Godzilla would come for him again. On dry land, Kong might fare better in a rematch, might even beat Godzilla, although that was now hard for her to imagine—but it would also mean a return to the days of Titans fighting in human territory, and all of the destruction that meant. Even if he won, Kong would never be able to rest.
Down there, where she believed his species had originated—maybe he could. It was a chance, at least. And if Nathan was right, and the energy down there could also stop Godzilla—that was bonus points.
The way down was dangerous. Kong would not be in a HEAV. But the evidence was that Titans had been making the transition from the surface to Hollow Earth for millions—maybe hundreds of millions—of years. Their size and biological make-up must be adapted to the dangers posed by the Vile Vortex.
Kong’s species had come from Hollow Earth, of that she had no doubt. So there might be more of his kind down there. It wasn’t a lie to tell him so. To give him hope. He had been the only one of his kind since moments after his birth. On some level, he must long to meet others.
“All right,” she said, turning to Jia. All right. Tell him there could be more like him. Inside.
Family? Jia signed.
She didn’t want to lie to
