Work Text:
The Atlantic Marshal takes a moment to stand by the forty-fourth-floor window and survey the iconic view of the Thames, noticing that the tide has turned. Time and tide wait for no man. It is a reminder that some things have not changed. The ancient proverb is a cautionary tale; today, the Marshall feels like a modern-day King Canute, assembling his courtiers to demonstrate that even a king cannot stall the forces of the inevitable.
“A pleasant view.” This judgment is offered by the petite, middle-aged Chinese woman standing beside him.
“Is it?”
Perhaps Mycroft Holmes’s questioning makes her consider the contrast between it and what she sees out of her office window in Hong Kong, which still bears the scars of the kaiju. In any case, her eyes narrow, and she retorts bitterly, “London is fortunate. It has become a magnet, attracting those who have the money to flee the battle zone.”
Mycroft decides she has a point. From this height, the Thames is a ribbon of silver cutting through London’s thriving conurbation. Fuelled by rich Asians fleeing from the battle zones of the Pacific, over the past twenty years, London’s property values had skyrocketed as much as the high-rise buildings that now litter the landscape. Apart from Singapore, London now hosts the largest number of Chinese expats in the world.
Liwen Shao had flown in from Shanghai this morning but shows no sign of jet lag. In her clipped but fluent English, she continues, “What Asia lost under the onslaught of the kaiju, London gained. I would have thought this would have pleased you, Marshal.”
He lets his eyebrows shrug his scepticism. “No one could be pleased at the devastation of another city. And what you see as success here has its own consequences. Expansion has been at the expense of the local British population, many of whom can no longer afford to live in the capital.”
“This is the yin and yang, the push and pull of globalisation, nothing more.”
He wishes he could be so philosophical about it. Political pressures in Western democracies curtail choices that are less problematic for the mainland Chinese government.
There is a faint smile on Liwen Shao’s lips, heightened by the bright red lipstick that she has matched to her severe red suit. “This old building… an unusual choice for the Pan Pacific Defence Corps.”
“On the contrary, Miss Shao. You, above most, should appreciate the irony. It was the London headquarters of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation, the very symbol of Asia’s commitment to London’s role as the world’s international banking centre.” Mycroft has always had a liking for the building. The Norman Foster design is twentieth-century brutalist, angularly square and defiant, echoes of a time when architects assumed that the British ruled a world empire and humanity ruled the universe. How little we knew.
“Ancient history,” she says dismissively. “HSBC was just another casualty of war.”
They both know that the first breach war changed the face of Asia’s future forever and led that continent’s premier financial institution to eventual collapse. Re-purposing this building as what is essentially a military embassy has always struck Mycroft as wholly appropriate, a sort of physical statement of the commitment of the British Government to the PPDC’s role as the defender of earth against aliens. It was rare enough British generosity—sentiment perhaps—for a nation that is so far away from the battle zone. Perhaps the UK’s former Commonwealth ties to Australia and New Zealand had heightened its awareness of the threat more than most of the European Confederation members. Only France amongst the thirty-two European Confederation Council members has committed any reasonable funds to the PPDC, perhaps stung by the demands for protection by French-speaking Polynesian states. The obliteration of Tahiti in the first Drift War had scarred the French psyche. In any case, when the PPDC had wanted a presence to remind the Europeans of the fact that they were fighting on behalf of all humanity, London had been the logical choice.
Sometimes, Mycroft wonders if fighting the kaiju would be less frustrating than battling the kind of budget wars that he is faced with on a day-to-day basis. Long seen as a side show to a side show, his Atlantic arena of responsibility is so far down the PPDC priority list that he has to fight for every penny of funding. The Pacific Rim countries have their own priorities: defence and reconstruction being uppermost. Why waste resources on something half way around the world from the battle zone?
He can expect no significant funding from the rest of Europe, Africa or the Middle East, for whom the kaiju are merely the cause of the world-wide recession. Spared so far from the marauding monsters’ physical damage, the radioactive fallout from the use of tactical nuclear weapons, and the toxic environmental disaster of kaiju blue, the non-Pacific countries simply count themselves fortunate and routinely ignore calls for more funds.
The result is a major and very chronic headache for the Atlantic Marshal.
“Sir? We’re ready to begin.”
His ADC, Anthea McAllister pitches her voice quietly, but with enough urgency to break through the Marshal’s reverie.
Into battle. He straightens his shoulders and pulls his dark blue jacket down. He doesn’t often feel the need to wear the official uniform—his job is more political than military command—but today it is needed to make a point to the Chinese.
As Marshal Holmes shows Liwen Shao to her seat, the lighting in the Comm room dim to blue; the plasma screen windows darken to shut out the view completely. As his eyes adjust, he moves to take his seat along one side of the upper circle, raised and banked to allow the audience to focus on the full impact of the holographic displays and the connected Fog Screens used to create realistic 3D landscapes with weather effects. The latter is for show, but sometimes smoke and mirrors are what will convince a potential backer that the PPDC is the most cutting-edge means of preserving human autonomy.
“Begin,” he commands.
The centre console shows a simulated breach in the making. The program about to be run is designed to test the skills of six Chongshen Jaegers, the product of Shao Industries’ efforts to rehabilitate their reputation. In effect, these are re-engineered drone Jaegers. After the near-apocalypse they caused when their operating systems had been hacked into, no Pacific Rim country had been willing to risk anything that still contained the slightest bit of kaiju DNA or Shao Industries technology; memories of the threat posed during the last Breach seven years ago have not faded.
Although the subsequent investigation into how the drones had been hijacked by the deranged scientist Newton Geiszler had exonerated Shao Industries and allowed them to return to the PPDC procurement list, not one of the Rim countries had yet been willing to allow the company to build a new Jaeger to replace those destroyed in the battles. Now, as a company manufacturing military technology whose tech nobody would buy, Shao Industries is facing an immediate threat of bankruptcy unless it can find a way to sell its mothballed and re-engineered drones.
The PPDC is telling the Atlantic region to consider the purchase, in part because public opinion is less hysterical in this theatre.
Mycroft knows that Shao Industries has a great deal riding on finding a buyer, any buyer at this stage, because without a PPDC-related purchase, their future is in the balance. He intends using that fact to beat down their asking price to something remotely affordable. With the War Clock showing more than seven years of peace, it is becoming more difficult to convince the powers that be to part with their money for the sake of protecting humanity from a threat that seems increasingly remote.
Needs must, when the devil drives. In Mycroft’s case, the devil is the latest round of budget cuts coupled with the need to do something to address the Atlantic sub-district’s appalling lack of equipment and poor recruitment figures. If an breach happened now, causing multiple simultaneous threats to Atlantic coastal cities, the Chard's Rift Shatterdome would not be able to look after its protectorate, not with what it can currently deploy in terms of Jaegers. Make do and mend had become the mantra of the Atlantic sub-district procurement policy, which is the only reason why Mycroft would ever entertain Shao's entourage today. Short-sighted politicians have not left him many options, but even if the Marshal has to do a deal with Shao Industries to remedy this, he will not make this easy for their negotiating team.
The company’s chairman, Liwan Shao, appears serenely inscrutable, now seated directly across the round room from the Atlantic Marshal. Behind her is her negotiating team, two of whom are refugees from the highly classified company Research Development Unit. Behind Mycroft are the Chard's Rift Base Commander Prentiss Hammond, the Head of the Civil Employee Administration of the Atlantic and Antarctic & Arctic Subsections, and the Chief Procurement Officer of the entire Defence Corps. The fourth member is Philip Anderson, the Atlantic Science Unit Administrator. Due to the isolated command structure of the Science Division, Mycroft has no jurisdiction over their work, and they only collaborate with the rest of the Corps when they must. This is one of those occasions.
As the simulation commences, the holographic display shows the portal opening. Out of the abyss emerges a kaiju that is the stuff of nightmares; Mycroft finds himself almost impressed by the imagination of the technical crew.
Anthea moves to the edge of the holo-display to address the assembled audience. “The kaiju has been identified by the K-Science Watchers at Marianas as a Category VII on the Serizawa Scale, a hitherto unknown variety, which they have named Namazu.”
Mycroft watches as a flicker of emotion tightens Shao’s jawline, a micro-expression that might escape most observers but not him. To drive home the point, he leans forward and says in a voice loud enough to carry around the room, “that’s Earthshaker if you are not familiar with the concept of the yonaoshi daimyōjin, the Japanese word for a god of world renewal.”
He calls down to the K Science officer managing the battle simulation, “Let’s take a closer look, shall we?”
The officer at the console manipulates his touch screen, and the blue outlines take on physical shape: a huge fish-like creature with spines on its dorsal and tail fins. Above the image, data start to appear— height, length, weight; it’s enough to indicate that this is bigger than the mega-kaiju that had last clambered up the side of Mount Fuji seven years ago. As the display rotates to show the image from the side, Mycroft notices that the creature’s pelvic and anal fins have become elongated fully articulated legs, spined and with a carapace like a crab’s. He nods discretely to Anderson to indicate his approval; the first iteration of the beast had not been impressive enough. This one will prove a more worthy opponent.
Shao raises a sceptical eyebrow. “Interesting” is her only comment.
“My Research Unit has been hypothesising the next evolutionary expression.” Anderson can barely conceal his excitement. “As we know, each generation of kaiju seem to be genetically engineered to match the weaponry of the Jaegers. This new iteration is likely to address the principal weaknesses that kaiju experienced in the last breach— that is, the slow speed of transit from the breach to a point where it can damage the ecology of land-based population centres. It is designed to defeat a Ravager-class Jaeger.”
Shao raises a hand, pointing over her shoulder at one of her entourage. “Engage.”
The Shao Operations Manager makes a few swipes at his touchpad, and onto the holo-display, six Chongshen Jaegers descend to the sea floor to encircle the Namazu.
In impeccable English, he explains: “Our Jaegers are a more compact size than your Ravager class. That, combined with the lighter but still highly durable alloys we have developed for their armoured plating, means they are of more easily transportable weight, capable of being airlifted by a single specially adapted Antinov AN-355 Mirya aircraft. It means they can be swiftly moved to whichever part of the Atlantic sub-district requires them when a breach is detected, using the six runways capable of taking them.”
Liwan Shao turns to the Atlantic Marshal. “Of course, if the Americans’ latest iteration of the Hercules ever gets airborne, then it, too, could manage to carry one. We can give you video footage demonstrating the effectiveness of the air-drop and the two-helicopter pickup for precise positioning in urban land areas. This simulation of yours is ideal because it is near the breach itself. Unlike your Jaegers, ours are engineered to be able to fight on the sea bed next to a breach. Six times as many of our Chongshen could engage a kaiju in a quarter of the time your single Ravager would take to arrive, and with no more helicopters needed than you have already allocated. Given the distances involved, if the kaiju can be intercepted before landfall, this is a benefit for civilian lives.”
Mycroft bites back his initial riposte; no need to tell her that the subsection's engineers are already working on faster transport methods for the Ravager. They have no choice but to look to increase mobility; the wealthy Pacific Subsections have plenty of Shatterdomes while the Atlantic only has Chard’s Rift. Despite helicopters being in short supply and their range limited to five hundred miles from the Azores unless re-fuelled in mid-air, the meagre force at the Atlantic Marshal’s disposal is expected to provide security for twenty percent of the Earth’s surface—a staggering forty-one million square miles. The idea that defence of such a huge area is even remotely possible is nothing short of ridiculous.
Behind him, Prentis Hammond sits forward. “Drones got us into a mess last time; what insurance do we have that these are not going to be hackable?”
Liwen Shao snaps her fingers, and one of her entourage swipes his pad to change one of the Chongshen images from solid into a blueprint design. He explains, “As you can see, we have retrofitted a fully functional Comm Pod, complete with two pilots on board. As we speak, these Jaegers are being piloted in the simulation lab in China and will be able to respond to your scenario.”
She lifts an eyebrow in challenge to the Shatterdome commander, who orders the technician to begin.
The Namazu kaiju breaks free from the maw of the breach and swims towards the Jaeger in front of it. The pectoral fins extend fully and arch forward, spines suddenly fluorescing a bright blue. The circle tightens, with the other five Jaegers coming in closer on the sides and at the rear. An array of weapons is unsheathed, as the Shao Industries technician explains, “The tactical unit of six is well armed, bringing to bear upgrades to the gravity sling, arc whip, plasma sword, plasma canon and missiles. The six combined have twice the fire-power of your Ravager.”
Underwater, there is no sound, but that does not diminish the ferocity of what happens next. The Namazu does not wait but unleashes a bolt of blue plasma at the closest Chongshen directly in front of it. It rocks under the force of the blow, staggers and drops to its knees. As the kaiju swims forward to secure the kill, its attention is no longer on the other five surrounding it.
It’s a mistake. The kaiju’s huge size presents a target-rich environment. Simultaneously, two of the five spring forward and attack the monster’s back legs, using their plasma sword weapons to pierce the carapace. Alternating blows, they make it hard for the kaiju to decide which one of them to attack first.
Two of the other three Chongshen Jaegers move in on the front legs, leaving the third to use its plasma whip to slice away the right fluke of the monster’s tail, releasing a cloud of blue kaiju blood into the water.
Confused, the Namazu uses the pectoral fins on its front legs to spur forward, swallowing in its teethed maw the kneeling kaiju, before spinning about to confront the five remaining attackers.
Anderson’s smug tones carry across the simulation; “As I said, we know that kaiju evolution will accommodate improved battle tactics. It can make superior combat decisions now, being able to sacrifice some pain and blood loss for tactical advantage. Seventeen seconds into the battle and the odds have shortened against your drones because even collectively, they are less able to inflict a fatal injury.”
Liwen Shao retorts. “You’ve seen nothing yet.”
As if the drone Jaegers had heard her, they move in again. Three of them use their leg rockets to propel them right into the side of the Namazu, using hooks that emerge from their mechanical feet to attach themselves to the beast’s armour-plated scales. Then they start cutting away with the plasma blades, tearing great chunks of armour out of the sides of the beast. The Namazu thrashes violently, hoping to dislodge them and emits a huge electromagnetic pulse, a blinding flash of white that obliterates the images in the simulation arena. The EMP was one of the kaiju’s strongest weapons against any Jaeger in the past, disrupting its communications and shorting out some, if not all, of its electrical circuits.
This time, however, when the images reappear, the Shao Jaegers seem unaffected.
Liwen explains, “Our Jaegers have fewer circuits, so we can protect them better. The pilot drift skills need not be stretched so much to defend; they can focus on attack.”
The monster resumes thrashing its leg against one of the Shao Jaegers, buckling its arm, rendering its plasma saw useless. It keeps the other two Jaegers attached to its side occupied by throwing plasma bolts, forcing them to divert power to their shield arms. However, in the process, it is ignoring the remaining two Jaegers, which have flattened themselves on the seabed, propelling themselves forward while slashing at the kaiju’s underbelly and slicing straight through the joints of the legs.
Within seconds, the Namazu is unbalanced, losing its back legs. It has to revert to swimming, breaking off its attack on the damaged Jaeger, to use its front legs to shoot plasma bolts at the two attacking up its underside.
Liwen crows. “This is our advantage. We fight as one. Unlike your current Jaegers, all actions of ours are fully coordinated. But please to notice, there is no comms traffic between the Jaegers, no weakness to be interrupted by the kaiju’s electromagnetic pulse.”
This allows the three which had attached themselves to punch new foot holes in its side, moving up towards the head. Even the one with the damaged arm is able to move. The three concentrate their firepower on a single point, either side of the head.
“The other advantage is that all our pilots combine their observations to spot the weaknesses. In this case, they have identified the central nervous system of your Namazu. It is only a matter of time now.”
Her assessment is borne out; two minutes later, the Namazu is dead.
-*-
The simulation might be over, but the battle of wits continues in the Atlantic Marshal’s private dining room. The minions have been left behind; the final decision will be made between Mycroft Holmes and Liwen Shao.
As she delicately uses her chopsticks to manoeuvre a seared scallop from the plate to her mouth, Liwen pauses. “You see, Marshal Holmes, size does not matter, because the Chongshen fight united in a new way.”
“Not so new. The Wolf Pack strategy is being developed by Judy Ann Bautista, the Base Commander at the Hawaii Shatterdome. They’ve been experimenting with the idea of multiple Jaeger attacks, to bring better co-ordination to defend, trying to catch the kaiju at sea before they make landfall.”
She has chewed and swallowed before replying. Wagging her chopsticks at him, she says, “The difference is that with our re-engineered Jaegers, the wolfpack strategy is enhanced three-fold. Our Jaegers learn from each other and share their knowledge of the enemy instantly. As many as you want; three, six, ten, doesn’t matter. They are all joined as a fighting unit by a revolutionary upgrade to the implant software. This is only at a beta stage of testing, but even so it permits what we are calling multilateral drifting. It’s a form of neural connectivity between all of the Jaeger pilots that cannot be interfered with by the EMP weapons that have made any vocal transmissions vulnerable in the past. It raises the capacity of the group to fight in a co-ordinated manner, as you saw.”
As the second course is served, Mycroft can see the sense in meeting the threat not with Jaegers of ever increasing in size—and cost—but rather by cheaper, smaller, more agile war machines capable of fighting as a unit, each with different weapons. Rumours had been circulating about new implant upgrades that are improving communication and fighting co-ordination. What he’d seen today is proof that those whispers were valid.
But he knows how to drive a hard bargain. “An impressive enough result, but it was only a simulation,” he says as he bites into his slice of the tenderest, rarest beef that can be found in Britain. Civilians may have to stint on plant-based meat substitutes these days, but there are still a few Aberdeen Angus herds in Scotland that produce the real thing for those who have contacts.
Mycroft wonders if Liwen Shao would compare it to Wagu beef; the Chinese were rumoured to have smuggled out some breeding stock before the Kaiju decimated Japan. She seems to be underwhelmed by the delicacy on her plate, and is more interested in defending her corner of the negotiation.
“Could your Jaegers do a better job? I have my doubts. I hear rumours that one is out of commission and your latest one, the Ravager, lacks a full crew.”
Her sources are not far wrong, but Mycroft will not give her any advantage by conceding the point. Chard’s Rift is excruciatingly under-equipped. Two of the three Jaegers are Mark V antiques held together with little more than hope and duct tape. Greenwich Victory is the oldest and worst battered; it had been transferred from the Pacific theatre a decade ago and it's clearly no longer fit for purpose. Its marginally newer companion is Churchill—a smaller, faster Jaeger, capable of being carried by only two helicopters. All in all, it is not that different from what the Chongshen Jaegers promise. By retro-fitting a fully functional Comm Pod operated by a pair of Rangers into the old Drone jaeger design, the Chongshen models will certainly be cheaper than the Churchill.
Mycroft has on occasion seen the irony in the fact that this Wolf Pack strategy is so fervently advocated by the German delegation on the European Confederation Council, especially since the Germans are most opposed to increasing PPDC funding to gain the means for such an approach. German U-boats operating in groups had decimated Atlantic shipping in the last great inter-human world war, but the proposal by Krupp-Thyssen Mittal Corporation to build a unit of ten Jaegers using the Churchill design has been repeatedly rejected as 'too expensive' and 'unwarranted'. His political superiors are pressing him to accept the Chongshen alternative as more affordable.
The Marshal knows that she is probably aware of this pressure, but sees no reason to simply roll over.
“We manage,” he replies. “The Ravager is formidable.”
“But expensive,” she snaps. “I know you are under budget constraints. There will never be another Ravager-class built. In the meantime, Beggars cannot be choosers.”
“Miss Shao, may I remind you that your collection of useless drone jaegers has been collecting dust. Even with retro-fitting a comm pod for dual piloting, the re-engineered jaeger is still untested in combat.”
“As is your Ravager, Marshal.” Liwen smiles. “Here in the Atlantic, far away from the hottest battle zones, we can both hope that a cheaper option will be acceptable to your political masters, as well as less burdensome when it comes to recruitment.”
The Marshal allows nothing to show on his face, but this barb hits home. While the hardware Mycroft might be able to procure through the backdoor from Shao Industries might allow him to up the number of Jaegers to something resembling a strike force, the idea threatens merely to push the bottleneck onto another shortage: a lack of suitable pilot recruits. Thankfully, Chongshen Jaegers do not require anything close to the same level of skill and Drift Compatibility to pilot as the Reichenbach Ravager does. Of course, the Marshal wants his flagship Mark VIII Jaeger to succeed, not least because it is evidence of British excellence in design. But its construction had been eye-wateringly expensive, and even he must admit having underestimated the difficulty in manning its pilot rota.
No one, least of all Mycroft Holmes, could have predicted that bringing their white elephant Jaeger to life would require his own ornery, disobedient loiterer of a brother. As the Ravager testing and training runs have shown, the results outstrip and put to shame the previous generations of Jaegers. On the one hand, the Marshal is happy that recruit numbers are on the rise after the press has been promoting the Ravager. He is desperate to find the other four rangers needed to pilot the Ravager on a 24/7 basis. Should a breach occur, the Ravager as it is currently staffed will only be able to work at one third its full capacity.
On the other hand, it is galling to the Marshal that his useless sibling Sherlock has now become one of PPDC's greatest assets. In his eyes, knowing the boy as he does, his brother is one of the Corps' greatest vulnerabilities. All it would take to cripple the Ravager would be to snuff him out or make him lose motivation. From his ridiculous choice of co-pilot, John Watson a veteran Ranger well past his use-by date, to his willingness to flaunt his personal relationship with the man, it’s all a bit much. Individuality like his brother’s is not appropriate; he needs some lessons in proper command structure, responsibility and obedience. Two other ranger pilot pairs for the Ravager are needed to teach Sherlock that he is not irreplaceable.
The current situation is untenable.
Opting for the Chongshen Jaegers will take the pressure off to recruit and train the other two crews needed to bring the Ravager up to full fighting strength. It is one of those times when personal wishes and command priorities coincide.
And if the idea of multilateral drifting can be delivered soon, then it too will be a means of subordinating Sherlock’s outrageous individuality to the needs of the many. A more malleable pilot can be put in place to control the whole Atlantic Jaeger force.
Sherlock will once again be under his thumb. No more will he need to pander to his brother’s egotistical histrionics.
As the dessert cart is rolled into the dining room. Mycroft’s smile returns. How satisfying it is when personal needs align so well with one’s duty. He tucks into his fresh strawberries and clotted cream with glee.