When he got home, Nĭ′ltsi (the Wind) whispered to him: “Hakáz Estsán (Cold Woman) still lives.” Nayénĕzgạ ni (Monster Slayer) said to Estsánatleh (Changing Woman): “Mother, grandmother, where does Cold Woman dwell?” His mother would not answer him; but Nĭ′ltsi again whispered, saying: “Cold Woman lives high on the summits of Depĕ′ntsa, where the snow never melts.” Next day he went again to the north and climbed high among the peaks of Depĕ′ntsa, where no trees grow and where the snow lies white through all the summer. Here he found a lean old woman, sitting on the bare snow, without clothing, food, fire, or shelter. She shivered from head to foot, her teeth chattered, and her eyes streamed water. Among the drifting snows which whirled around her, a multitude of snow-buntings were playing; these were the couriers she sent out to announce the coming of a storm. “Grandmother,” he said, “a cruel man I shall be. I am going to kill you, so that men may no more suffer and die by your hand,” and he raised his knife-club to smite her. “You may kill me or let me live, as you will. I care not,” she said to the hero; “but if you kill me it will always be hot, the land will dry up, the springs will cease to flow, the people will perish. You will do well to let me live. It will be better for your people.” He paused and thought upon her words. He lowered the hand he had raised to strike her, saying: “You speak wisely, grandmother; I shall let you live.” He turned around and went home.
—A Navajo Legend, collected and translated by Washington Matthews, 1897
Kong blinked out the afterimage of the explosion and climbed to his feet, trying to figure out what had happened. Suko had been running toward him with the axe, he remembered.
And he’d hit the crystal. Now it was gone.
To his relief, he spotted Suko rising from the rubble behind him. But the Skar King was there too. The Red Ape jerked himself up, grabbed Suko by the throat and held him up in the air.
He was about to kill the little ape.
Kong jumped forward and punched the Skar King in the face. He followed the Red Ape to the ground, grabbed him by the throat and hurled him at Godzilla. The Titan swung his massive tail and knocked the Skar King back to Kong. Kong caught him and lifted him over his head.
Godzilla’s roar shook the city. Shimo paused, glancing at Godzilla. Godzilla glowed brighter and roared back at the ice Titan. Shimo paused—then turned her gaze on the Skar King, struggling in Kong’s grip.
Her white beam leaped out toward Kong, but not at him. Instead it hit the Skar King as Kong lifted the Red Ape higher. Kong felt the Skar King struggle, stiffen, grow cold in his grip.
Very cold.
Kong stared into the Skar King’s eyes. His body had become as hard and stiff as stone, but his eyes still stared out at him, still full of malice—but maybe also fear.
Kong roared, heaved the Skar King as high as he could with both arms, and then dashed him to the ground, where he shattered into more pieces that Kong could count on his hands and feet. Then he pounded the remains with his fists, until he was satisfied the Skar King would never move again. He roared in triumph.
Satisfied, he went to retrieve his axe.
* * *
“Wow,” Hampton said.
“Yeah,” Laurier replied. “But the weather pattern the… uh… dragon made…”
“Monster H.”
“Right. Monster H’s weather pattern. It’s still gathering force.”
“Maybe not for long,” Hampton said as Godzilla turned his gaze up to the thick snow clouds. His jaws swung open, and his energy beam leaped toward space, cutting through the mist, burning it away. The sky churned, the storm broke, and the sun shone through. Monster H watched its handiwork vanish without objection. With the death of Red, the fighting seemed to be over.
“Godzilla protects the planet,” Hampton said.
Ilene climbed out of the H.E.A.V, followed closely by the Iwi queen and the others. They were resting on a shelf high above the Iwi village, an island of upland jungle.
Mothra settled not far away, shedding her soothing light over everything.
Jia dismounted from the Titan and ran toward them.
Ilene had never been so glad to see anyone in her whole life. Once more she had difficulty holding back tears. For a moment, Jia looked like a queen, holding herself in power and dignity. It was as if Ilene’s eyes had somehow pierced the curtain of years and was seeing the girl not as she was, but as she would be.
Then Jia broke into a girlish grin and reached for an embrace. Ilene took her daughter in her arms, felt her fit there as she always had. Almost. But she knew it was different now. It had to be.
But for the moment she cherished the hug for what it was.
When they finally broke, Ilene tried to pull it together. Nearby, Mothra beat her wings and made her otherworldly chukking sound. She and Jia both looked at the Titan.
“Thank you,” she told Mothra, signing it as well. She had no way of knowing for sure if the Titan understood her, but it felt like she did. Mothra stretched her wings fully and took to the air. Jia’s gaze trailed after her. Bernie, standing next to Trapper, threw the flying Titan a salute.
Ilene turned her attention back to Jia.
I’m so proud of you, she said. Jia smiled and acknowledged that with a nod.
“Look, I…” she was signing with her spoken words, but Jia had turned away and couldn’t see what she was saying. She walked over to the Iwi queen. The two met gazes, no doubt speaking in their silent language.
Yeah, Ilene thought. She stepped closer to them. She had to do this now, while she still could.
“Hey,” Ilene said. “Can I just…”
The Iwi queen nodded at her. Jia turned around, a question in her gaze.
Ilene cleared her throat. She spoke aloud as she signed. Not for Jia, for herself. She had to hear the words.
“I know this place, you feel like is home. And I… I want you to know that whatever you decide… I’ll support.”
What are you talking about? Jia asked.
“What am I talking—I assumed you wanted to stay?”
Jia looked at Ilene as if she thought she’d lost her mind.
Wherever we go, whatever we do—we do it together, the girl replied.
This place could be your home. I…
You. Are. My. Home, Jia said.
“You—” Ilene’s words failed her. She took Jia back in her arms, tears streaming down her face.
Just like a teenager, she thought. Throwing my own words back at me.
But if they were the right words, that was okay. More than okay.
* * *
She wasn’t done crying when something came streaking out of one of the vortices. They followed the Iwi queen to the edge and watched the impacts.
There was Kong, and the little ape…
And Shimo.
“That can’t be good,” Bernie said. He looked at her. “That’s not good, is it?” He searched the hollow skies. “Where’d Mothra go?”
Jia and the Iwi queen were both staring intently at the Titans. Jia shrugged and then turned back to Ilene.
I think it’s okay, she said. The queen says… she says Shimo is quiet, now. That she is no longer in pain.
What does that mean? She joined her daughter and looked down.
The three Titans weren’t fighting. The little ape seemed excited, jumping about, swinging from crag to crag. But Kong and Shimo stood facing each other. The World Ender dwarfed Kong. But he didn’t seem threatened. As she watched, the Great Ape reached his hand out, slowly, tentatively, as he did when he reached for Jia. As if he were afraid of his strength, worried he might break something.
Shimo drew her head back, but only a little. Then slowly, very slowly, she stretched it back out, until Kong was touching her on the side of the head.
The two Titans stood like that for what seemed like a long time.
Across the valley, Mothra flew up to the veil the Skar King had torn and began to repair it with her webs.
“Director Hampton?”
Hampton’s eyes snapped open. “I’m awake. Just resting my eyes. What is it?”
“The disruption in the membrane has subsided,” Laurier said. “We’ve got a fix on the position of the H.E.A.V.”
“And? Are Doctor Andrews and the others okay?”
“We’re still waiting,” she said. “The H.E.A.V systems are down—something to do with the gravity drive—but the techs think they can reboot it from here.”
“And the second Hollow Earth Team?”
“Ready to go. On standby.”
“Right,” Hampton said. “How long until the reboot is done?”
“They think another fifteen minutes.”
“We might as well wait, then,” she said. “Whatever was going on down there seems to be over. Hopefully everyone is okay.”
“I’ll alert you when we have communications.”
“Good.” She turned wearily back to the report she had started drafting and the various streams of data informing it, reflecting on what the Senate Oversight Committee needed to know and what they maybe didn’t. Of course, she didn’t have all the facts yet, but it gave her something to do while she waited to find out the fate of the crew of the H.E.A.V.
As far as the Titans were concerned, things seemed to have returned to a state of… if not normalcy, at least guarded peace. Once Red was dead, they stopped fighting. Godzilla had waded into the ocean and was currently cruising through the Atlantic on a northeastern track. Kong, the littler ape, and Monster H had returned to the vortex. There was no sign any other vortex had opened, so they were presumably all back in Hollow Earth. What that meant, of course, she didn’t know. All she knew was that the next days and weeks weren’t going to be much fun. The Project Powerhouse issue would certainly be raised. But that might be nothing compared to the fallout from Monster H. What had happened in Rio, including the weather event, was impossible to hide. Even if she wanted to obfuscate and keep what Monarch now knew for certain about the last Ice Age, climate scientists outside of Monarch would work it out pretty quickly. If the politicians and pundits and bloviators thought Godzilla was a threat, what would they think about a real World Ender?
It could be all the special interests needed to call for a takeover of Hollow Earth.
“Director,” Laurier said. “We’ve made contact with the H.E.A.V.”
“Thank God. Put it on.”
For a second, Hampton thought she was going to cry, she was so relieved. Instead, she just closed her eyes for a second.
“Well,” she said. “Doctor Andrews. I’m happy to see you.”
“That’s mutual,” Andrews said.
“I guess there’s been something going on down there?”
“A little bit.”
“So, up here Kong and Godzilla trashed Cairo, and then they brought a few friends along and sort of… laid waste to Rio de Janeiro. How are things where you are?”
“Oh,” Andrews said. “I guess we have a few things to talk about.”
“You reckon?” Hampton said. “You go first. Start with your status. Everyone okay?”
Andrew’s face fell. “Not everyone,” she said. “Mikael didn’t make it. And the crew at the Kong Observation Post were all killed, too.”
“Shit. That’s awful.” She was wide awake now. Her people. On her watch. They had all deserved better.
But she pushed that down too.
“Tell me,” she said. “I’m listening.”
And she did. In the end she had a lot of questions, but only one that she thought was worth pursuing at that moment.
“Monster H?”
“Shimo, I guess. The one who started an Ice Age or two? What will she do?”
Andrews looked thoughtful for a moment. “You said after she killed the Skar King, she and Godzilla stopped fighting.”
“Yes,” Hampton replied. “Our working theory is that he had control over her with that crystal—maybe one of her own spines. She started freezing things after he pointed it at her. But after Mini-Kong destroyed it, she started playing nice.”
“And she still is,” Andrews said. “Her and Kong seem to have bonded. I think—we’ve been thinking the worst of her, right, because of what she did. Can do. But I don’t think she’s like Ghidorah. I don’t think she had any interest in destroying the world. She didn’t before. She may have created an Ice Age, but Earth has cycles like that. Our planet has been completely ice free at times, frozen from pole to pole at others. Life always persisted, even sometimes thrived in the Ice Ages. Life was pushed to adapt, evolve. Maybe Shimo is more like Godzilla. She’s here to keep things in balance. Maybe she also protects the planet, or at least steps in when she needs to adjust it. There’s so much about all of this we still don’t know. What I do know is this. Right now she isn’t on the rampage. We know where she is. We can keep an eye on her, study her. If you let them come down here and mess with her—that really could cause a world-ending event. We need to convince them to leave her alone. At least for now. Until we know more. A lot more.”
“Yeah,” Hampton said. “I agree. So when are you coming up to help me with that?”
“So,” Andrews said. “About that.”
* * *
The Iwi on Skull Island—to the outsider, anyway—had been a pretty reserved people. Their relatives down here had proven similar, until now. The emergence of Mothra and the defeat of the Skar King seemed to have opened up something in them, and the next two days were filled with games, food, and abundant goodwill. As Trapper prepared the H.E.A.V to go, they ran up to him by the dozens, festooning his neck with colorful ribbon-scarves, some braided, some not, tokens of their thanks and affection. Trapper appeared almost overcome as he made his way toward the vehicle.
“Oh, wow! Is that for me? That’s great! Thank you!” he said. “Just look at that. Aw, you guys are great. Look at that. Look at these.”
He stopped talking when the Iwi queen herself appeared in his path and put another strand on him. She bowed her head slightly. So did he. Then he turned to Jia, who stood near the queen.
“Look at you,” he said. “Little one.” He held his hand up for a high five, but Jia stepped toward him and gave him a hug. He returned it, smiling. Then he went on the H.E.A.V.
Ilene followed him to the ramp, where he turned around and flashed her an uncertain-looking smile.
“Right,” he said. “Well. I guess you’re gonna stick around here for a bit.”
“Yeah,” she said. “For a while, anyway. I mean—there’s a lot to learn. For both of us.”
“Yeah,” he said. “No. I mean, I’ll probably pop down here, now and then. Just to check on Kong, mainly. Just the… tooth.” He shrugged.
“You think the, uh, Iwi would be cool with me crashing here?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sure that the… Iwi… would be happy to have you.”
He nodded. “That is good to know,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” He glanced over at Bernie, who was receiving his own neckful of ribbons and braids.
“All right, Bernie,” he called. “Time to go.”
“You know what, Trapper?” Bernie said. “Actually—actually, I think that I’m going to stay down here. Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Really. Things got pretty messed up down here. It’s only right that we make it right.”
Ilene didn’t miss the pride in Trapper’s look as he patted Bernie affectionately on the head.
“I’m gonna miss you guys,” Trapper said. “Come here. Bring it in.”
He grabbed her and Bernie both. Tightly.
“I love you guys,” he said. He went back to the ramp of the H.E.A.V and raised both arms. “See you, everyone!”
Then he went in. A few moments later, the engines lit up and the H.E.A.V soared away toward one of the vortices above.
The Living Caves still smelled like burnt rock and too many apes.
Kong sat atop the ridge, watching them for a minute. They were still doing what they had been doing when he first saw them. Working in the dim heat. Moving rocks. As if the Skar King were still there, watching them. Coercing them with his whip and awful gaze.
When he had returned to the World Below from the fight on the surface, he’d found a few of the apes dead. One-Eye was among them. But he had followed the trail of the rest of them back here, to the place where they had been trapped for so long. He thought it strange that they would return here. But then he remembered that they did not know the Skar King was dead.
He nudged Shimo with his knees. She carried him further into the cavern.
Now some of them saw him. They began to call, and in moments they were all looking up at Kong, riding on the back of Shimo, with Suko perched on his shoulder.
Suko chattered, loudly.
Kong dismounted Shimo, stroked her head, and chucked her under the chin. She replied by nuzzling him as the assembled apes stared up at the head, up at them, and back. Kong waited for a few heartbeats, to make sure they all understood. Suko came and stood next to him. Kong took the smaller ape’s arm and lifted it. In his other hand, he lifted the axe, and roared.
At first, the assembled apes didn’t know how to respond. But then one ape raised his arms, and then another, and soon, all of them.
Looking at them, he knew they seemed uneasy. They did not know if he would be like the Skar King. Some of them were going to cause trouble, and he would have to settle it.
But he was ready. He hardly knew any of them, but he knew they had suffered. He knew they wanted something more than they had.
Like Jia, like Suko—these apes were his family. Family could be trouble. But it would be worth it.
At midnight, Hampton gave up trying to go back to sleep, dragged herself out of bed and made herself a cup of tea. She knew coffee would do the job of waking her up better, but she just couldn’t deal with it.
The crisis was over. Why couldn’t she get a decent night’s sleep?
She stirred in some cream and went to place the spoon on the counter but dropped it instead. She sighed, too tired to curse, and bent to pick it up. As she put her fingers on it, a small motion caught her attention.
Something was looking at her, its pale lavender head cocked so that she could see both beady little eyes. Its body was a deep green, its ribs showing prominently beneath its finely scaled skin.
For a moment she froze, not sure what she was looking at. But then even her sleep-muddled brain recognized that it was just a little lizard: a Barbados anole.
“What are you doing, fella?” she whispered. “You don’t look so great.”
She knew for a fact that anoles didn’t do well inside of houses. They got their water by lapping up dewdrops, and the ones that got accidentally trapped indoors had a tendency to dehydrate and turn into grotesque little mummies. She had found a couple since moving here. This one looked well on its way to that fate.
“Come here,” she said.
Terrified, it tried to run, but it was too weak to escape her, and she caught it easily. Carrying it gently in her fingers, she took it out onto her balcony. The night air felt dense and wet. There should be plenty for him to drink.
She reached over her balcony railing and placed him on a leaf. For a moment he stayed still, just watching her, his gaze locked onto hers. In that small moment, she remembered a much bigger one. Godzilla looking down at her.
“Oh,” she said. “Huh.”
Then the anole slowly crawled into the cover of the vegetation.
Hampton didn’t drink her tea. Instead she lay back down, and was asleep within minutes.
Hours later, Hampton woke from the best sleep she’d had in—she had no idea how long. She made another cup of tea and sat outside, watching birds flit about in the trees. Wondering where her little friend was and if he was okay. She had done what she could. The rest was up to him. That was how it was, wasn’t it?
A few minutes later, she noticed a pair of male anoles. They both looked too healthy to be the one she had rescued. They were stalking one another. The bigger one was defending his territory. The smaller one was trying to horn in on it. They did push-ups on the branches, inching nearer to one another, inflating their throat sacks.
Territory. That was the name of the game for these lizards, and they were only a few inches long.
Godzilla’s territory was the surface of the planet, and it was his again. He had crossed the Atlantic, returned to Rome, and was once again having a nap inside the Colosseum. No one knew why. She had seen pictures of his old haunt; the one Serizawa had nuked. The buildings there had some points of similarity with Roman architecture. Sure, the big fella was the guardian of the planet, but it seemed he had at least a little soft spot for people, too.
She put her cup down and sighed. Time for a shower, and then work.
But she never quite got up from her chair. It was a beautiful morning, and the birds had never sounded more lovely.
Hey, she was the boss, wasn’t she? She could take a day off.
She went for another cup of tea.
Bernie looked through his viewfinder as, a few feet away, Dr. Andrews peered through a pair of high-tech binoculars at her daughter across the small valley. There, Jia stood on a ledge that came up even with Suko’s face.
Suko. Bernie still preferred Mini-Kong, but whatever. Apparently, the little guy—who was actually not very little at all, at a human scale—already had a name. Go figure.
He realized he was humming a tune under his breath, an old favorite of Sarah’s.
Looking out from my lonely room, day after day…
It had just snuck up on him, and though it made him a little melancholy, he wasn’t actually sad. In fact, he felt better than he had, well, since before she had died. He had believed that version of him was gone forever, and maybe it was. But this version, the guy he felt like today—he was doing okay. He was a pretty good guy. The last years of his life felt like a blur of hurt, need, pain, and obsession. He still had those things in him, but he also had light. Purpose focused by hope and even joy. And as weird as it might be, as little as he still understood the Iwi, for the first time in forever he felt like he really belonged somewhere.
Jia was trying to teach Suko to sign. The ape stared at her intently as she shaped motions with her hands, arms, and face.
“That means ‘family’, right?” Bernie asked Andrews.
“Very good,” she said.
Suko hesitated. He raised his arms up near his face. Then he made circles with his thumb and index fingers and put them around his eyes like goggles.
Sort of, Jia signed. Then she turned in their direction and waved.
The earth shook as something heavy thudded to the ground. Bernie jumped and yelped from pure reflex, as did Andrews. What now?
But then he saw it was just Kong. Kong gestured at Suko. It wasn’t ASL, but Bernie thought he understood it anyway.
Ready for another adventure, Mini-Kong—uh, Suko?
Suko nodded and gave an excited cry, and together the two apes set off for parts unknown.