The False Voice

                  She didn’t look like much, thought Commander Yamoto of the Red Bamboo about the unconscious girl on the other side of the glass. She was barely eighteen; very small in build and stature; pretty, but nothing special. Nothing about her bespoke any extraordinary qualities whatsoever.

                  Yet this little girl, alone of mankind, could control the most awesome force of nature the earth had ever known.

                  It’s a funny old world, he thought.

                  And yet, what had this girl done with such power? Nothing. Nothing but try to keep the beast away from populated areas. She held the means to rule the world in her grasp, and she was content to act as a kind of monster repellent.

                  The Red Bamboo could surely find better use for such a skill. They, the vanguard of the Revolution, would tame that wild beast as a weapon against their enemies: the fat, indolent people of Japan. The corrupt, morally-bankrupt Americans. The hypocrites and traitors of China. All would fall before the peoples’ greatest weapon: Godzilla. 

                  Miki Saegusa lay strapped securely to the hospital bed. A helmet bristling with innumerable wires and antennae covered her head. This device, the only one of its kind in the world, had a twofold purpose: using specialized electronic signals, it would both activate her ESP along a specified wavelength and record the activity for later analysis. Trigger a telepathic signal, record it, analyze it, and store it for later use. In this way, they were slowly building up a kind of telepathic dictionary; a phrase-book for commanding the King of the Monsters.

                  They had been at it for nearly fifteen hours, and Yamoto felt almost ready for a test run. He turned to the technician in charge, who nodded. They had enough for now. Let the girl recover for a while and, in the meantime, see whether their efforts were worth the investment.

                  It had not been easy to get a hold of her. As the only remotely reliable defense against Godzilla that anyone had yet discovered, Saegusa was well protected. G-Force had guards on her day-in and day-out, and she always moved under the highest possible secrecy. But the Red Bamboo had eyes everywhere; even inside G-Force. Although it had taken almost six months to set up, the plan had succeeded: a false alarm that Godzilla was making his way to the Australian coast set her and her guards scrambling onto an emergency jet, then a little knock out gas in the passenger compartment, and then like magic her guards were tossed out the doors and she was a guest of the Red Bamboo. Of course, once they were done picking her brain they’d just feed her to Ebirah; they couldn’t have her telling everyone about their plans, could they?

                  “Is the machine ready to transmit?” he asked.

                  “Yes, sir,” answered the technician.

                  The machine was based off of old Dr. Mafune’s design: supposedly it could transmit orders over vast distances, even underwater. Godzilla, according to their sonar, was a mere thirty miles away, drifting lazily south.

                  “Begin transmission,” Yamoto ordered. “Order him to turn north.”

                  He called her “the Little Voice.” He knew, of course, that she was actually one of the humans. He even had some idea of what she looked like; though she was so small it was hard to differentiate her from any other human. She had given him a name for herself, but he found that too confusing to keep straight: how could someone be one thing, and also another at the same time? He was Godzilla, and only Godzilla. Mothra was Mothra, and only Mothra. But the Little Voice wasn’t only the Little Voice, but also Miki, and also ‘human.’ He had trouble wrapping his brain around the whole concept. So, to him she was just the Little Voice.

                  Godzilla liked the Little Voice. She was the only human he liked. She was the only human he knew as an individual. Until he had met her, he hadn’t even really understood that humans were like that: individuals. He had just thought of them as ‘Man:’ the great, singular enemy that had brought so much pain and misery down upon his head for reasons he didn’t understand, and whom he had hated with all his might.

                  He did not hate Man anymore; that anger had long since cooled. He did not like Man either. Most days he just wanted to ignore Man, and hoped that Man would return the favor.

                  But he liked the Little Voice. She was kind to him. She respected him. She seemed to care about him. In return, he was usually willing to do what she asked him, which something he couldn’t say about anyone else in the world, except maybe Anguirus or Mothra.

                  Now, as he dozed and drifted through the waters, he heard her…or thought he did.

                  Turn around.

                  Godzilla snapped out of his doze. 

                  LITTLE VOICE?

                  It sounded like her, and yet…it didn’t.  

                  Turn around.

                  WHY?

                  Turn around.

                  He growled. Why should he turn around? He stopped swimming and floated there, hundreds of feet below the surface, looking around and listening.

                  Turn back.

                  He wasn’t anywhere near land. There was only one ship nearby, and it was behind him. Why did she want him to turn back?

                  Turn back.

                  Now he was getting angry. It sounded like she was trying to command him!

                  YOU DON’T CONTROL ME!

                  Turn back.

                  That’s it? No response at all? Just another order?

                  That wasn’t her. That couldn’t be her. She never tried to order him around. She talked to him, she didn’t just issue commands like that. And she certainly would have been frightened by his rebuke.

                  Then he realized: he always sensed emotions attached to the Little Voice. He could tell when she was scared or desperate or happy. This voice had no emotion. It was a dead voice. A false voice.

                  With that realization came two thoughts: the first was that someone was trying to control him using a crude imitation of his beloved Little Voice. The second was that, to imitate the Little Voice, they may have had to do something to her. They might have hurt her.

                  Godzilla roared in fury.

                  FALSE VOICE! I WILL KILL YOU FOR THAT!

                  The order came again:

                  Go north.

                  This time Godzilla listened carefully, trying to determine where it was coming from. It was coming from the southeast. With another roar and a flash of his tail, he turned and began swimming at top speed towards the False Voice.

                 

                  Miki Saegusa awoke with her head throbbing painfully. She felt as though something had gone in and torn apart her brain while she slept and she was having a very hard time making any kind of sense of her thoughts. She didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there, and she only had the vaguest notion of who she even was. She tried to massage her aching head, but she was much too tired to even life her arms. She groaned and stopped trying: it made her head throb even harder.

                  After a few moments, her mind had arranged itself enough to realize that she felt not only exhausted and in pain, but somehow dirty: violated. The memory of being the victim of some terrible crime seemed to hover just at the edge of recollection. She wanted to push it away, but her natural desire to know her own mind overcame her aversion. Yet, it remained just as elusive as ever.

                  As she became a little more aware, she tried to recall where she was. She remembered being on a plane…yes, a G-Force special jet to Australia…someone had seen Godzilla heading for land. And then what?

                  She tried to feel her head again, but her arms still wouldn’t move. Now that was odd. She was tired, but not quite that tired. She wiggled her fingers and toes…yep, they still worked. So why couldn’t she lift her arms?

                  It suddenly occurred to her that this ought to be alarming, immediately followed by the realization that she should open her eyes.

                  They were stabbed by a brilliant light and she closed them again. Her arms definitely wouldn’t move, and what’s more, she couldn’t so much as sit up. Had there been a crash? Was she paralyzed?

                  Gingerly, she squinted against the glare and looked down her body. Thick black straps at her shoulders, chest, waist, knees, and ankles completely immobilized her, binding her to a white-sheeted bed. The rest of the room was cast into shadow by the light that shone in her eyes, except for a mirror covering the top half of the wall to her left.

                  She didn’t need to be psychic to know someone was watching her from the other side.

                  Miki felt wide-awake now. Wide awake and scared. Where was she? Who was watching her? What did they want?

                  Well, the latter question was obvious enough: they wanted her brain. Ever since her existence had become known, every government and scientific institution on the planet had been salivating over her brain. It was all G-Force could do to keep them away from her.

                  Now it looked like someone had gotten around them. And by the way her mind felt, they had already been picking her apart.

                  She wondered whether they hadn’t already taken her gift. Carefully – because her mind still felt very tender – she reached out a little, searching...

                  There were people on the other side of the mirror, just as she had thought. They were agitated, alarmed, angry even. Miki tried to sort through the various signals. There were a lot of people, all men, and all in a state of emotional distress. Something bad was happening. Something they had been worried about. She couldn’t tell what, but for the moment relief at still having her ESP compensated her for the sense of ominous mystery.  

                  Although she could speak mind-to-mind and hear responses, actually reading minds, going in uninvited and looking for information, was very difficult for her. It required great concentration, and usually considerable guesswork. Most of the time her gift manifested in reading emotions more than thoughts, and in her current state, she doubted she could do anything more demanding than that.

                  Suddenly, she sensed one of the people in the next room was on the move. He went away, then came back, heading right for her. Miki braced herself, certain that whatever followed would be unpleasant.

                  The door opened and a tall, athletic looking man in a military uniform emerged into the circle of light. He surveyed her with a single eye, the other being covered by a black eye-patch.

                  “Ms. Saegusa.”

                  “Who are you?” she asked.

                  He didn’t answer.

                  “Where am I?”

                  “At the moment,” he said. “All you need to know is that Godzilla is less than twenty miles from our current position and approaching at great speed.”

                  That didn’t make any sense, though she could tell he was telling her the truth.

                  “Why would he be coming here?” she asked.

                  “Who knows why he does what he does?” answered the man in the eye-patch.

                  “I do,” she answered at once.

                  She was naturally a fairly shrewd guesser; often having to piece together facts from the small fragments of information she was able to uncover when trying to read minds, and now she was beginning to form a picture of the situation. They had kidnapped her to study her telepathy; that much was obvious. But what if they’re interest hadn’t been so much scientific as practical?

                  “And I think I know why he’s coming,” she said. “You called him, didn’t you?”

                  The man seemed to be debating how much to tell her.

                  “Your powers exceed your reputation,” he said. “No doubt you know why you’re here, then?”

                  “You want to try to take my ESP,” she said. “You want to use it to manipulate Godzilla.”

                  “Correct,” he said. “And we have hit a snag. On our very first test run, he ignored our commands and instead started swimming towards us at top speed. Now, I require that you tell me what we did wrong.”

                  “You…you tried to command him?” she said in alarm.

                  “Of course,” he said. “As you do.”

                  “I don’t command him!” she exclaimed. The situation was much worse than she had thought. “I talk to him! He’s not a machine, or a pet; he’s an intelligent, proud, wild creature! Do you have any idea how offended he would be if I tried to command him?”

                  More aspects of the situation seemed to be forming before her as she understood more and more.

                  “When you sent your orders to him,” she went on. “He must have known that it wasn’t me. But he’ll probably also know that, if it wasn’t me, that I must be involved somehow. He’ll know what you’ve done.”

                  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “He’s just an animal.”

                  “No, he’s not,” she answered. “He might not be able to understand all the details, but he’ll know that I’m in danger. If he’s coming here now, that means he cares enough about me to do something about it. There are very few creatures in this world he cares about, and if he thinks any of them are in danger, then trust me; you’ve never seen rage like what he’ll unleash. Not in this world.”

                  The man frowned at her, and she saw the implications of what she was saying were beginning to sink in. Miki was a small girl, and she had a small voice to match. But the conviction and, more so, the content of what she had just said alarmed him. She found herself actually laughing in defiance of him.

                  “Congratulations,” she told him. “You’ve just become the personal enemy of the most powerful creature on earth.”

                  The one-eyed man’s face contorted in rage.

                  “Call him off,” he ordered.

                  Miki took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do, but doing it would be very alarming.    

                  “No.”

                  She gasped as in a single, fluid motion he whipped out a large knife and stuck it up against her throat.

                  “Call. Him. Off.”

                  Miki took a second to compose herself, then forced herself to speak.

                  “If you kill me,” she gasped. “There’s nothing that will stop him.”

                  “Then I won’t kill you,” he answered with a snarl. The knife traveled down across her chest.

                  “If you torture me, he’ll know I’m in pain,” she said. “When we communicate, he can sense how I’m feeling. That’ll just make him angrier.”

                  He didn’t answer, but from the look in his single eye she could tell he was sorely tempted to do it anyway. The knife, in any case, continued to lightly stroke her abdomen.

                  Trying very hard not to imagine what it would feel like to be cut up like a dissection subject, Miki steeled herself to put her plan into action.

                  “I’ll call him off,” she said. “If you let me go.”

                  “You aren’t in a position to make demands,” the one-eyed man answered.

                  As if to emphasize his point, he cut a small hole in her blouse. It was a very sharp knife.

                  “No,” she said as firmly as she could. “You aren’t in a position to make demands. You have a very angry Godzilla bearing down on you. I’m the only thing in the world that might be able to stop him, and the only way I’ll do that is if you let me go.”

                  He glared at her, the knife twitching in his hands. The anger and hatred she sensed coming off of him terrified her. But she also sensed an equal measure of fear in him. She pressed her advantage.

                  “Even…even if you’re willing to die just for the pleasure of m-murdering me, what about your facility?” She swallowed hard and went on. “I guess I’m not your only science experiment here. What’ll your superiors say? What’ll happen to your organization? Is it really worth it?”

                  That, she saw at once, struck home. Realization of his position dawned across his mangled face. She sensed the inner struggle fade as his fear won out. Then his anger flared in a sudden outburst and he lunge at her, raising the knife.

                  “He’ll know!” she gasped. She was only just in time. His knife stopped mere inches over her face, having apparently been intending to give her one painful disfigurement to punish her for getting the better of him. Miki’s eyes watched the gleaming edge as it hovered just over her face, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps as she waited to see what the one-eyed man would do. But her warning had brought him to his senses and after a few, tense moments he returned the knife to its sheath.

                  “Where do you intend to go?” he asked when he had recovered sufficient composure to speak.

                  “There’s a G-Force ship following him at all times,” she said. “Do you have any helicopters?”

                  He nodded.

                  “Then take me there.”

                  The one-eyed man bit his lip so hard that Miki saw a drop of blood forming between his teeth. With a furious movement, he swept from the room. A few minutes later, he returned with four rough-looking guards. They undid the straps tying Miki to the bed, and she felt wonderful relief at being able to move her limbs. It didn’t last long, though. As soon as she sat up, one of the guards grabbed her and held her arms tight behind her back. Another bound them with a zip-tie.

                  “Hey, what are you…”

                  “You’ll be released when you approach the ship,” the one-eye man growled. “In the meantime, we can’t have you seeing anything unwholesome, can we?”

                  The third guard pulled a strip of duct-tape over her eyes, blinding her.

                  “Just stop him,” one-eyed growled.

                  “I’ll try,” she said. “I promise.”

                  “What do you mean you’ll ‘try’?”

                  “Well,” she said. “Like I said, I only talk to him. It’s possible you’ve made him angry enough that he’ll just kill you anyway.”

                  Someone – she guessed it was the one-eyed man – hit her across the face.

                  “Get her out of my sight.”

                  The guards roughly led/carried Miki through what seemed to be a bewildering maze of passaged, staircases, and catwalks before finally emerging out in the open on a windy rooftop. She was bundled into the helicopter, which flew straight and fast to the west.

                  Only when they sighted the G-Force ship Yamane did the guards roughly pull the tape off of Miki’s face, allowing her to be blinded yet again by the sudden blaze of sunlight. They cut her free of her ties, loaded her into a harness, and lowered her onto the deck, where a crowd G-Force personnel were waiting for her.

                  As soon as she touched the deck, she was surrounded by strong hands helping her out of the harness, strong arms hugging her, strong voices wanting to know what had happened and whether she was alright. G-Force was mostly comprised of either top-ranking scientists or extra-tough military personnel. Miki, therefore, was something of a novelty in the organization. Everyone, especially the military guys, looked on her as a kind of ‘team daughter,’ and they were all extremely protective of her. But that would have to wait: time was running short.

                  Somehow, she managed to make the nearest soldiers understand that she needed them to be quiet for a bit, and they made sure everyone else on deck knew it. Disentangling herself from the crowd, Miki ran along the forward deck toward the bow. The Yamane, along with its sister ship, the Serizawa, was a custom-made design; part cruiser, part scientific vessel. Its forward deck was outfitted with a small airstrip, allowing G-Force’s VTOL aircraft to take off and land on it. Miki stood on the bare flight-deck, near the rail, motioning for the men to keep back. Composing herself with measured breathing, she sent her thoughts out into the ocean, to where she knew he was moving.

                  Godzilla?

                  LITTLE VOICE?

                  Yes. It’s me.

                  YOU ARE HURT?

                  No, really; I’m fine.

                  YOU ARE…SCARED?

                  Just a little shaken. I’m alright.

                  FALSE VOICE?!

                  It’s gone. It’s dead now. You’ll never hear it again. You don’t need to go fight it.

                  There was a pause. She could feel his anger still smoldering, and what was more, his suspicion.

                  I WANT TO SEE YOU.

                  Miki hesitated, glancing back at the men. Even if Godzilla didn’t mean them any harm, he was so big that even surfacing next to the ship would be dangerous. But she sensed his concern, his need to be certain.

                  Alright. But be careful; don’t hurt the ship.

                  “Brace yourselves!” she called to the men. “He’s coming up!”

                  They all scrambled to grab hold of something. There was silence for a moment, and then maybe two hundred yards off the port side the water swelled and churned. The Yamane rocked violently. Miki grabbed onto the rail to steady herself. The ocean fell back in torrents as a black shape rose out of the water before them.

                  He had only emerged up to his chest, but even so Godzilla towered far above the Yamane’s mast. It was like having a rocky hill suddenly appear in the middle of the ocean. As always, Godzilla looked too big to even be alive.

                  His massive head – the size of a small house – swiveled around to survey the ship’s deck. A low growl seemed to make everyone’s insides tremble. His face bent down, attempting to focus on Miki’s comparatively insignificant form. Although she knew he meant them no harm, knew that he had actually been concerned for her, Miki couldn’t help feeling a little afraid as she gazed up into those great eyes.

                  LITTLE VOICE?

                  She forced herself back into contemplation.     

                  See? Here I am. Safe.

                  Feeling a little silly, she waved.

                  He growled, and she felt the metal deck quiver beneath her feet. At the same time, she felt him convey a sense of warm relief and care that she would scarcely have imagined possible for such a creature. She had warned the one-eyed man that Godzilla cared about her, but she hadn’t realized how much he actually did. It was staggering to think that she meant so much to such a being.

                  STAY SAFE.

                  Thank you. You too.

                  She swore she almost sensed something like a laugh, but a second later it was gone and she decided she had imagined it. The King of the Monsters turned away from the Yamane and plunged back beneath the waves, calm once more.

                  Miki exhaled slowly, then turned to greet her friends and satisfy both their concern and their curiosity. But first, she decided she ought to send a message to G-Force HQ, to let them know that somewhere about twenty miles to the west of them, there was a secret facility that needed investigation.  

                  After all, she promised to call off Godzilla. She never promised not to call in anyone else.

                 

                  Commander Yamoto waited patiently for the Chairman’s call. The loss of the island facility was, of course, a major blow, but they had at least managed to evacuate before the Americans arrived. They had even gotten most of their research off the island, and what they couldn’t take, they had destroyed. Nothing now remained but a smoking crater. The Red Bamboo had escaped again.

                  Still, it had been a blow: an investment of time and capital that they could scarcely afford. Yet, that investment was not wholly in vain. Indeed, if he played his cards right, it may prove to have all been worth it.

                  The screen flickered, and the shadowy form of the Chairman appeared.

                  “Commander Yamoto,” he intoned solemnly. “I have read your report of the debacle in the South Pacific. A billion dollar investment wiped out in one day. Ebirah let loose, with little prospect of recapture. A security breach resulting in the discovery of several undercover agents. And all you have to show for it is minimal loss of personnel and some half-finished research.”

                  There was a pause as the Chairman allowed the litany of failure to hang in the air.

                  “Can you offer anything in your defense?”

                  “I can, Chairman,” said Yamoto smoothly. “I believe that this event, though undoubtedly costly, may yet prove the key to a great victory.”

                  “Is that so? And what makes you say that?”

                  “It has revealed to us where we were mistaken,” said Yamoto. “And with that, has shown us the true means to proceed. We thought of Godzilla as a warrior. But that is not so. Godzilla is not a warrior, but a bomb. And the girl is his detonator.”

                  The Chairman cocked his head, intrigued. Yamoto smiled inwardly, and went on.

                  “Let things calm down for a time. Let them lower their guard. In the mean time, we shall select our target. Then, when all is ready, we shall take her again. We shall make her call to him, in pain. And so we shall bring his wrath down upon whatever city we choose.”

                  Yamoto finished and waited for the Chairman’s response. The shadowy figure sat motionless, apparently considering the idea. Then he answered a single word:

                 “Excellent.”