Domovoi Part 23

Gipsy was no stranger to fighting in frigid sea water.  In fact, the Jaegers had been designed to primarily fight knee-deep in water, as it was their ultimate goal to prevent Kaiju from making landfall at all costs.  But the feeling of total immersion was alien to her, and for a moment she panicked as the waters closed over her head, the ocean depths claiming her and dragging her and Striker further down.  It was as if they were already descending into the Breach, never to return to the surface…

Striker “nudged” her firmly, shaking her out of her panic, and with a shudder she braced herself for landing on the ocean floor.  There was no time for fear – they had a mission, and everything they fought for rode on its success.  

Her feet impacted against the sea floor, foot spikes automatically locking in place to keep her upright.  She rose from her crouch and began to move forward, though the water and pressure made every movement sluggish.  Striker, too, moved as if in slow motion, despite his claim as the fastest Jaeger ever built.  Their slow, deliberate movements, combined with the murky light of their floodlights that did almost nothing to illuminate the shadowy world of the sea floor, gave everything an eerie feel, as if they were walking on an alien world.

Striker kept his Conn Pod fixed on the path ahead, picking his way across a scattering of rocks, but his presence reached out for her.  This was it… there was no turning back now.  Was she ready?  And could he count on her to watch his back?

She pulsed back an affirmative answer.  She would never be fully ready – neither of them could be, for who knew what kind of surprises lay in store for them at the Breach?  But she was as ready as she would ever be.  And, she added wryly, someone had to watch his backside, since he seemed so insistent on getting himself in trouble.  It might as well be her.

His irritated rumble carried easily through the water, sounding almost like a roar.  Cheeky one, she was… but he admitted that she had proven herself at Victoria Harbor.  There was no one else he’d rather have at his side.

Gipsy couldn’t suppress a squeak of gears at that, and hoped that Raleigh and Mako would write it off as her systems reacting to the water pressure.  Had she been human, she would have flushed at the attention.  She had to shake herself and press on, reminding herself that now was not the time to be flirting or acting like a teenager.

Perhaps it was the looming threat of something catastrophic happening on this mission, or perhaps it was the absence of Cherno and Crimson.  But during those precious hours between returning from Victoria Bay and being carried out to the Breach, Gipsy and Striker had quickly forged a bond between them.  Maybe it wasn’t as strong or as deep as her bonds with the other two, but it burned brightly nonetheless.  It wasn’t quite love – there hadn’t been time for that – but she was fond of him, and she hoped beyond hope that whatever happened at the Breach, they would escape it together.

She only wished they had more time… but that was all the more reason to win today, and to return to the Shatterdome intact.  Whatever happened after the war, there would certainly be time for them to get to know each other better.

The two Jaegers dropped down a sheer crater wall to come within sight of a glowing, sizzling fissure in the sea floor, one surrounded by red-hot vents that festered like boils in the very rock.  The Breach pulsed and oozed like an infected wound, a wound that would spread its poison through the entire world until all humankind was obliterated if the Precursors had their way…

But Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka weren’t about to let the Precursors win without a fight.  They were Jaegers… surrender was never an option.  

Striker “nudged” her again.  Was she ready?

Gipsy pulsed back.  She was more than ready.  This was what she had been built for.

Together, the two Jaegers approached the gaping portal to another universe, ready to end the war one way or another.

***

Newt had no idea how long they’d been locked in their quarters by now.  It could have been hours or weeks as far as he knew – they’d confiscated his phone and watch, so he couldn’t even check the time.  Hermann might have been able to provide some kind of timeline, since the mathematician had an excellent internal clock of his own… but he hadn’t spoken to Newt since their imprisonment.  He’d spent the entire time scribbling on the wall of the room with a pen and muttering to himself, only pausing to relieve himself in the container that some cultist had “thoughtfully” left in here for them.

His behavior wasn’t too different from his normal behavior back at the Shatterdome labs, except that he didn’t stop to snark at Newt or even respond when he asked a question or urged him to take a break and eat something.  Was he that upset at him?  It wasn’t like it was his fault they were stuck in this predicament.  Tendo had sent him here, and Mikhail had locked them up in the first place.  What did he have to do with any of this?

Spike gurgled, and Newt hurried over to make sure he was okay.  One small concession the cultists had granted, at least – they had brought the skin louse to keep Newt company.  Though Newt was starting to wonder if that was any sort of mercy, because Spike was looking worse, his carapace shriveling and his compound eyes looking foggy and silvery like he had cataracts.  Probably from missing so many ammonia baths…

A small hatch in the door opened, and a tray of food slid through before the hatch closed again.  Newt picked out a few bits from his plate that might have been meat and offered them to Spike, but the louse barely nibbled at them before curling up and shivering.  

“I’m sorry, boy,” Newt murmured, rubbing him just behind the head plate.  “We’ll get out of here… I promise.  Just gotta find a way.”  He looked over at Hermann.  “Uh, hey… you gonna eat anything or just pace and mumble?”

The mathematician didn’t even turn to acknowledge him.  He simply stepped back from the wall and stared at the diagram he’d scrawled out.  No, it wasn’t quite a diagram… it looked more like a map.  And Newt couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen it before…

“At least seven of those large buildings, if they can even be called that,” he muttered.  “Twelve Kaiju under construction, as well as that… thing, whatever it was.  It didn’t look Kaiju-like, unless it’s a kind we’ve never seen before…”

Newt’s jaw dropped.  No wonder it looked so familiar!  Hermann was making a map of the Precursor’s base!  And he had to admit it wasn’t a half-bad one – his partner-in-crime had a photographic memory, and had probably picked up on details during the drifts that Newt had missed entirely.  No doubt he wanted to commit what he’d seen to some kind of tangible form before they escaped… or before the cult had their way with them.  Whichever came first.

“You don’t still have your phone, do you?”

It took Newt a minute to realize Hermann was finally addressing him.  “No, they swiped that first thing.  Why?”

“Pity.  I’d hoped we could photograph this and send it to Marshal Choi.  In that case, I’d better copy this… damn, there’s no paper in this room, is there?  Give me your shirt.”

“What?!  Dude, I’m not walking around this place half-naked!  Draw on your own shirt!”

“Dammit, Newt, are you really going to fuss about that when the safety of the world is at stake?”

Before Newt could answer, the door to their room opened.  Newt cringed, expecting them to be beaten or worse for vandalizing the walls of the temple.  But the broad, hulking acolyte in the doorway didn’t even seem to notice.

“You two,” he rumbled.  “Come.  Now.”

“Your High Priestess has a lot of gall to assume we’ll do as she says after everything she’s done,” Hermann snapped.

“Yeah, he’s right,” Newt added.  “Why should we listen to you?”

The acolyte didn’t say anything, only raised one hand and punched his palm with a closed fist.

“All right, all right, we’re coming!” Newt grumbled, scooping up Spike.  “Geez, I thought monks were supposed to be pacifists and stuff…”

Two more burly acolytes waited just outside the door, and they escorted the two scientists back to the inner sanctum.  Newt no longer had an eye for the Kaiju-themed décor or the tanks of immaculately preserved organs – all he could wonder was if they were being dragged before Mutavore’s brain for some kind of execution or worse.  He hadn’t found any sign that the cultists practiced blood sacrifices, but they could always decide that their precious Deep Ones or their Messengers needed victims for some reason.

Mutavore’s brain seemed more energetic than ever today – it bobbed and rocked in its preservative bath, tendrils pawing at the sides of its tank.  Newt fought the urge to stick his tongue out at the brain.  He had a healthy respect for Mutavore, and had even created a scale model of it in his workshop, but he wasn’t about to forgive it for mindlinking him to the Precursors.  Even if that hadn’t exactly been Mutavore’s fault, but the work of…

“Priestess Mikhail,” Hermann spat as the woman emerged from the shadows.  “You never give up, do you?”

She gave him a cool smile in return.  “We all do what we must in desperate times, do we not?”  The priestess wore no robes today, but a silver tunic and black leggings… and for the first time since Newt had met her, she wore no headdress.  She was bareheaded save a thin silver headband holding back her thick, waist-length tresses.  Funny, Newt had imagined she’d keep her hair short to better fit under her weird headpieces…

It was more of a shock than it should have been to see the vivid blue streak that ran through Mikhail’s hair.  Like Mako, she had chosen to mark herself with the color of Kaiju Blue… though the differences between the women couldn’t have been more striking.  While one wore the color to commemorate her lost family and fought to destroy the Kaiju, the other wore hers to worship the creatures and had set herself firmly against the Jaegers and all who stood with them.

“Don’t look so worried,” Mikhail assured them, cutting through Newt’s train of thought.  “We mean you no harm if you only cooperate with us.”

Hermann drew himself up as straight as his bad leg would allow.  “Madam, you can force us to drift with Mutavore all you wish.  But simply because you strongarm us into a neural handshake does not mean we’ll tell you what we see.  In fact, from this moment on I will share no further information from the drift with you.”

Mikhail sighed and shook her head.  “Such a shame, Hermann.  I took you to be the wise one.”  She turned to Newt and lifted an eyebrow.

“Lady, you’ve been creepy since day one,” Newt told her.  “And this just tops it.  I’m done telling you stuff.”

“I was afraid of this,” she said softly.  “Which is why we had secondary plans.”

“Secondary?” Hermann repeated.

She nodded toward the table before Mutavore’s tank.  Newt’s eyes threatened to bulge from their sockets.  Three Styrofoam heads stared blankly back, each wearing a Pons headset.

“Crimson Typhoon has proven one thing to us,” she explained.  “That a drift between three individuals is possible.  So it shall be thus – you will initiate the drift, and I shall join you.  And together, we shall see through the eyes of the Deep Ones, and learn the glorious truths they have to teach us.”

***

Cherno cooed in awe as his visual sensors swept over the vibrant sea of color and light that was Hong Kong at night.  So beautiful!  Nothing he’d seen in a movie could even compare to this!  Sure, there were ominous darkened patches throughout the city, spots damaged during the fight against Otachi and Leatherback that had yet to be fully repaired, but otherwise it hummed and glowed with activity, awash in neon and throbbing with a pulse all its own.

Gipsy grabbed his arm and tugged at it like an eager child.  Come on!  Let’s get closer!

Are you sure that’s a good idea?  He took a step forward – and winced internally as something crunched beneath his foot.  Ack!  I think I just stepped on a bulldozer!

Just be more careful where you step, Gipsy advised.  We’ll have to walk around the outskirts, I think – their roads aren’t very strong, and we’d leave craters as we walk.  But we can still see most of it if we’re careful.

Cherno let her take the lead, careful to set his feet in her footsteps – though his feet were much bigger than hers and left her deep prints even larger than before.  What are you hoping to see?

There’s some buildings I saw last time that I want a closer look at, she replied.  And maybe I can find that boat and take it back to where my Rangers and I found it.  Whoever owns it probably wants it back.

Probably not if it’s broken.  Besides, Tendo was saying something about insurance payouts, whatever those are.  Maybe they don’t want it back at this point.</I>

Gipsy shrugged and kept going, stepping carefully over a highway overpass.  Luckily said pass was currently abandoned, shut down for repairs; otherwise they would have caused a massive traffic disruption.

Anything you wanted to see while we’re here, Cherno?

Hmmmm… maybe the spots where Otachi and Leatherback went down?  I know you took them down, but… I’d like to make sure they’re really dead.

Sure thing.  We killed Leatherback over by the shipping yards, and Otachi’s further downtown, by the Bone Slums.  Which one first?

The shipping yards are closer.  Let’s go there.

Right.  She turned to lead the way… then paused.  Uh-oh, there’s a ship docking there.  I think it’s the ship Crimson and Tendo left on!

Then we’d better not go there just yet, Cherno decided.  Don’t want them to catch us.  I guess it’s the slums, then.

Don’t sound so disappointed.  The Bone Slums are actually kind of cool.  She motioned for him to follow.  This way’s fastest.  C’mon!

***

“Lady, you’re crazy!” Newt shrieked.

“This is the epitome of madness!” Hermann agreed.  “Do you have any idea how risky a drift is in the first place?  And throwing THREE people and a Kaiju into the mix?  You’re likely to kill us all!”

Mikhail’s smile never faded.  “The greatest achievements carry risk, Geizler and Gottlieb.  Imagine if we never attempted anything because it risked one’s life.  Smallpox would never have been eradicated.  Men would have never set foot on the moon.  The American continent would have gone undiscovered.  And the Jaegers – those abominations you hold in such high esteem – would never have been built.  No… I am aware of the risks, and I am willing to take them.”  

“You really don’t wanna do this, lady,” Newt insisted.  “Seriously!  It’s freaky in there!  And the side effects are really nasty!”

Her smile widened, and her eyes gleamed with rapture.  “No price is too high to be able to commune with the Deep Ones.  I have long awaited this moment… and I shall finally have the pleasure to meet them.  Perhaps not face to face, but to contact them in the drift is almost as good.”

Hermann scowled.  “I knew you were a fanatic, but I never took you to be this dangerously deluded.”

“We’re all delusional,” she replied evenly.  “The PPDC thrives on the delusion that they can control or destroy the Deep Ones.  Our delusion is simply a bit more reasonable.”  She gestured toward the Pons headsets.  “Shall we begin?”

“Not on your life, lady!”  Newt backed away, only for one of the Hulk-wannabe acolytes to grab him by the arms and push him forward.  Hermann was similarly clamped in a vise-like grip and held in place.

“I’m afraid you have no choice.”  Mikhail turned to the headsets and selected one, resting it on her head as regally as if it were a crown.  Then she chose another and turned to place it on Newt’s head.  He reared back to evade it, but a hand shoved his head forward, forcing him to accept it.

“Relax,” she advised.  “This won’t take long.”

***

The path of destruction Otachi and Gipsy had carved during their battle had yet to be repaired, and so there was little to impede the two Jaegers’ progress as they headed for the Bone Slums.  Gipsy was careful to set her feet down only where there were craters and smashed areas from the fight so as not to cause more damage, and Cherno followed her example.  His larger feet didn’t always fit in Gipsy’s prints, but he did the best he could, even if he did accidentally step on a few cars and kick a street sign into a window.  Sometimes he hated being so big.

Their passage didn’t exactly go unnoticed either.  Despite the late hour there were still people walking or bicycling on the streets of Hong Kong, and the slums in particular hummed with activity.  As Gipsy approached Otachi’s remains a crowd began to gather, pedestrians stopping in their tracks to stare, cyclists either braking to a halt or careening headlong into parked cars or buildings in their distraction.  A buzz of excitement drifted up from their growing audience, and phones and cameras were raised to snap photos.  Cherno halted in his tracks, staring in bemusement.

Gipsy…

I know, I know, they see us.  It’s not like we can really hide.  But if we don’t do anything stupid, they’ll just assume we’re out on a test run.  Just act like your Rangers are still piloting you.

I’ll try.  He took a careful step forward, wincing as that step made the ground shake enough for people to stagger.  But that didn’t seem to terrify them – if anything, they only cheered and chattered excitedly, and some even waved up at him.  He raised one hand to wave back, pleasure flooding his core.

Don’t do that!

He jerked his hand down.  Sorry… just trying to be friendly.

You’ll blow our cover.  Be more careful, okay?  She turned to continue on, only for her arm to catch on a billboard and tear it loose.  She snatched at it but missed, and it crashed into the street, shattering in pieces and blocking most of the lanes of traffic.  Oops!

Be more careful, eh?

Oh hush, like you haven’t broken things.  She finally halted in her tracks and nodded at a swath of flattened buildings.  There she is.

Cherno took two more steps, gaze fixed on his feet to ensure he didn’t flatten someone by accident, and looked up.  Huh… she’s a lot smaller than I remembered.  Did she shrink after she died?

That’s the baby one.  Otachi’s up a little further.

A baby Kaiju?  Cherno shuddered at the thought before letting his gaze rest on what remained of Otachi.  Hannibal’s men had been thorough – all that remained of the fearsome beast was an ivory skeleton, skull grinning savagely and empty eye sockets staring blankly ahead.  Her bones were riddled with holes where harvesters had bored out chunks of material for their own use, and there were gaps in the rows of fangs where they had yanked out teeth.  Even the Kaiju infant hadn’t gone to waste, stripped down to the skeleton and its bones left to dry out.

Cherno had no love for the Kaiju, especially a Kaiju who had nearly killed him and his parents.  But there was something sad, almost pathetic, about seeing Otachi reduced to bare bones like a deer in a piranha-filled river.  Whatever power to terrify and destroy she might have had before were gone, leaving behind only an empty shell to be gutted and stripped.  And if nothing else… it was proof to the citizens of Hong Kong that the Precursors’ attack dogs weren’t nearly as invincible as they seemed.

Maybe that’s why, despite everything, humans still put their bones on display in museums or monuments.  They want reminders that the Kaiju can be killed.

Should we go now? asked Gipsy.

One minute… there’s something I have to do.  For my family.

Oh?

Cherno made his careful way forward, then rested his foot against Otachi’s skull.  He slowly leaned his weight on that leg, the bone creaking under the strain, then cracking… then finally shattering in a cloud of dust and rubble.  Bystanders scattered to avoid flying shrapnel, but just as quickly dashed back in to snatch pieces of fang and bone, either as souvenirs or to sell on the black market later.

Good riddance.  He stepped back from the ruined skeleton.  I’m ready to go… what’s that?

Gipsy glanced up.  That?  Oh, that’s another Kaiju – Reckoner.  He’s been dead for years, and I guess they left his bones because people have built homes and businesses in and around them.  Weird, but then, that’s humans for you.

The head looks weird… it’s almost like they’ve turned it into a house.

Gipsy shook her head.  It’s not a house.  That’s the temple of the Kaiju cultists.

Cold anger flared in Cherno’s core at that.  He had never liked the fact that, despite all the destruction and pain they had wreaked, there were still humans who worshipped the Kaiju.  And after they had tried to sabotage a fight and allow Otachi 2.0 to destroy Hong Kong, his disgust had only deepened.  If there was one group of humans he came close to hating, it was that group of delusional fanatics.  He almost wished he wasn’t so bound to his cause of protecting humanity and could go wreck the temple with impunity.

Don’t do it, Cherno!  They’re still humans… and Tendo won’t like us hurting humans, even if they are cultists.  C’mon… let’s go find Leatherback and then get out of here before they suspect something.

Okay.  But he couldn’t resist one last look at Reckoner’s skull.  He’d let them go for now, but if they did anything to hurt another Jaeger or one of his human friends, he was going to make them pay.

***

Newt shook his head furiously, trying to dislodge the Pons cap, before someone grabbed his jaw and forcibly stilled him.  Beside him Hermann let loose a string of profanity in English, German, Mandarin, and Latin, and even managed to score a few hits on the acolytes with his cane before it was yanked from his grip.  Spike squealed and writhed in his arms, as if he sensed what was about to happen and was trying to escape it.

Only Mikhail was calm, standing with her hands folded before her and her eyes half-lidded, looking for all the world like a yoga instructor about to address the class.

“Relax,” she urged.  “Let it flow.  And don’t be afraid.  The Deep Ones are ruthless judges of this world, but merciful to their believers.”

“I don’t think mercy is in their vocabulary, lady!” Newt replied, still squirming.

“This is your last chance, madam,” Hermann added.  “Stop this insanity now!  You’re toying with forces you don’t understand!  You’ll kill yourself and us with you!”

“The only way to increase our understanding is to toy with those forces, as you put it,” she retorted.  “And if I should die to further our understanding… then so be it.  I embrace my fate.”  She turned and rested her hand on the button.  “Three… two… one…”

Pain… rush of memory… a collage of images from Newt’s boyhood and college days and Kaiju studies… the by-now-familiar scenes of Hermann being taunted as a schoolboy, of his vast intellect making him a freak and a punching bag among his peers, and of his accomplishments as a scientist and Jaeger engineer…

New memories… a girl barely into her teens crying in terror as she was yanked from her father to be forced into marriage to a man three times her age… a young woman huddled in the hold of a fishing boat, smuggling herself out of her home country… a kindly old man opening the doors of the Kaiju temple to welcome a ragged, desperate vagabond into the sanctuary of the cult…

The shell domes of the base, outlines murky and barely visible in the underwater gloom… workers crawling across the skin of a Kaiju, inspecting their handiwork, the beast writhing and snapping beneath them… a regal, crested being watching with sharp, calculating eyes as two more Kaiju were readied… then its jet-black gaze resting on the shell-and-flesh behemoth coming slowly but surely together just behind the ranks of constructed monsters…

The pain was expected this time, but no less intense… splitting, tearing, threatening to rip them to shreds where they stood… cold black eyes drilling into them, hatred searing through the drift…

WE WARNED YOU.  DRIFT AGAIN AND WE WILL KILL YOU.  YOU CHOSE NOT TO LISTEN.  STUPID ANIMALS.  YOU DESERVE YOUR FATE.

Burst of thought, terrified and desperate – it wasn’t us, dude, I swear!  Please don’t kill us!

Hesitation… the use of a slang term confusing the Precursor long enough for another to speak…

All praise to the Deep Ones!  All praise and all glory!  We exist at your tender mercies.  We accept your divine punishments for our sins.  Your Messengers come in their terrible glory to chastise us, and we bow ourselves beneath their blows.  We live to serve and honor you!

Another voice, ringing with anger – for God’s sake, Mikhail!

From the Precursor, bewilderment.  YOU WORSHIP US?  NO, NOT YOU TWO… THE NEW ONE, NOT THE PESTS.

From Mikhail, a thrill of pleasure at the recognition.

PRIMITIVE.  Disgust and disbelief, and not a little arrogance.  ALL THREE OF YOU… BUT THE TWO PESTS BELIEVE IN SCIENCE.  PRIMITIVE ANIMAL SCIENCE, BUT SCIENCE.  WE CAN RESPECT THAT.  Attention drifting, focusing on Mikhail.  THE NEW ONE CLINGS TO BARBARIC SUPERSTITION.  WE ARE NOT GODS.  WE ARE BEYOND YOUR PATHETIC UNDERSTANDING.

But we can learn!  Desperation, pleading.  Teach me!  I hunger for your knowledge, O Deep One!  Show unto me your wisdom!

YOU WANT WISDOM, STUPID ANIMAL?  YOU SHALL HAVE IT.

And with that, the drift exploded into red agony.

***

Cherno was just about to turn away from the skull of Reckoner when he felt it – a tingle of energy, one he normally only felt when a drift was in progress.  But that was impossible.  He and Gipsy were the only Jaegers here, right?  And none of the buildings around here looked like they could be a Shatterdome, even an illicit one…

Gipsy, do you feel that?

Yeah, I do.  She shook her head, growling.  Whatever it is, I don’t like it.  It’s not like a Jaeger drift, it feels wrong!

And it’s coming from…  Cherno’s gaze rested back on the skull.  Oh Gipsy… it’s coming from the temple!

Gipsy froze.  Then a roar of pure rage ripped from her engines, and she strode toward the temple, scattering spectators and crushing a (thankfully abandoned) butcher’s stall before reaching the bone edifice.  Her blue-armored left arm flexed, and a segmented swath of metal slid out of its sheath before locking into a solid blade.

Gipsy, careful!

Careful, my thermal exhaust vents!  I don’t know what they’re doing in there, but I know I don’t like it!  And if the cult is going to misuse the drifting tech… that’s going way too far!  And with a slash of her arm she slammed the blade into the top of Reckoner’s skull.

***

Newt would never be sure whether the roof of the temple being ripped off had interrupted the drift or if the Precursor had forcibly ejected him from it.  Either way, he was just grateful to be back in the land of the living.  His entire body shook hard enough to jostle Spike in his arms and blood slicked his upper lip, but he would take a drift hangover over being mind-locked with a Precursor any day.

The acolyte holding onto him released him so suddenly he staggered, screaming in Mandarin as a segmented blade sliced through the ceiling, passing barely a meter over their heads.  The blade struck the tank containing Mutavore’s brain, shattering it and sending a wave of stinking blue-tinted fluid flooding the sanctum.  The brain’s tendrils flailed wildly in its death throes, and Newt felt a moment of anguish at losing such a perfect specimen of a secondary Kaiju brain.

Then his attention returned to the sanctum itself.  The acolytes were in chaos, some running out of the room screaming, others rushing to Mikhail and trying to pull off the Pons headset.  The High Priestess looked nothing like her usual serene, smiling self – she was screaming like a murder victim in a horror movie, clawing at her face, eyes wide and staring at nothing but gleaming with utter horror.  Even as he watched her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, though the cut-throat screams never stopped.

Hermann!  He looked wildly around, trying to spot his fellow scientist.  It didn’t take long – Hermann had fallen to the floor but managed to crawl away, and now sat against a wall with his bleeding nose pinched in his fingers.  He looked far more irritated than frightened at this turn of events, and watched the unfolding chaos with a studious eye.

“Hermann!”  Newt rushed to his side.  “You all right, man?”

“Been better,” Hermann admitted, voice thick and muffled through his pinched nose.  “And a fair sight better than our High Priestess, I’ll wager.”

“The hell is up with that anyhow?”  He extended a hand, and Hermann took it and pulled himself to his feet.  “Is the Precursor torturing her or something?”

“Perhaps… but I believe it might be worse than that.  Not everyone is suited for a neural handshake, and Mikhail is not one of the fortunate ones.  She’s locked in the handshake, chasing the RABIT.”

Newt’s gut clenched in horror.  Stuck in a memory… trapped in the drift… he couldn’t imagine many fates worse than that.  Especially if the other one drifting with you was an eldritch abomination from another universe entirely.

“But don’t worry about her,” Hermann advised.  “She meant us nothing good anyhow.  Besides, we have bigger problems.”

“What bigger problems?” Newt demanded, looking up.  “Don’t tell me there’s a Kaiju… oh.”

Through the open roof of the sanctum stared two enormous faces… or rather, Conn Pods.  Both of them focused their floodlights into the room, illuminating the ruined sanctum and making all but the most stalwart acolytes flee like cockroaches.  Cherno Alpha’s engines rumbled in anger, though that rumble softened as he spotted the two scientists.  The other Jaeger continued to snarl… and Newt could only wonder how in the hell they had managed to rebuild Gipsy Danger so fast.  Though judging by the patchwork look to her limbs, they’d probably done it by cobbling pieces together from other Jaegers.

“My god,” Hermann breathed.  “Another one.”

Cherno raised a hand, then began to lower it into the chamber.  But a sudden growl from behind made him turn, and a sheepish squeak emerged from his chassis.  A third Jaeger had stormed up from behind, rain gleaming on its gray armor and an angry grumble rising from her engines.  Newt just stared.  This wasn’t one of the Shatterdome Jaegers.

“Another Mark I,” Hermann murmured.  “Coyote Tango.  How is this possible?  It was… it was retired, sent to the junkyard…”

Even as the two scientists stared, the gray Jaeger reached out and grabbed Cherno by one of his turbines, then Gipsy by her neck guard.  It yanked both of them closer and rumbled like thunder, sounding remarkably like a school teacher telling off a couple of misbehaving students.  Cherno squealed, a noise that sounded remarkably like “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” while Gipsy just growled in return, as if trying to justify her actions.  The Mark I rumbled again, shaking both Jaegers, then released them and stared down into the ruined temple.

Newt raised his hands, waving.  Well, this hadn’t exactly been the rescue he’d been hoping for, but in a way it was rather appropriate.  Who better to save them from the clutches of the Kaiju cult than a trio of sentient Jaegers?

Cherno rumbled again, almost more of a purr than a growl.  Then he lowered his hand, extending two fingers into the room like a makeshift ladder for the two to climb up.  His purr became a soft croon, an assurance that they were safe, that he would get them home and away from the cult.  Newt couldn’t explain how he knew that… he just instinctively felt it.

“C’mon, Hermann, we’re going home!”  He shifted Spike to one arm and set to climbing up into Cherno’s palm – a tricky job, since the slick metal didn’t afford too many handholds, but he managed it.  Hermann managed to pull himself after him, wincing in pain, and Cherno lifted them and cupped them against his chest.  A soft thrumming sound issued from his chassis, a sound that vibrated through his entire body and seemed to envelope him like a protective blanket.

“Aw man, Hermann… that’s the same sound he made for Crimson, remember?  I think… I think he’s trying to comfort us.  That settles it, he’s the most adorable giant robot I’ve ever seen!”  He patted the metal of his palm.  “Let’s go home, big guy.”

“So much for keeping the proverbial cat in the bag,” Hermann huffed, making himself as comfortable as possible.  “Tendo has a lot of damage control to do now… in more ways than one.”

***

Tendo had contacted the Shatterdome from the now-docked Ao Kuang to inform Bailey and Mako that they would be bringing home another live Jaeger.  He hadn’t expected to be met with a crisis first thing.

“You’re not going to like this, sir,” were the first words out of Bailey’s mouth instead of any form of greeting.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he replied blandly.  There were so many things that could go wrong anymore – another double event, a terrorist attack by the cult, the PPDC shutting them down for good – that he didn’t even bother trying to pick one that could be the possible culprit.

“It is Gipsy and Cherno,” Mako reported, voice brisk in an effort to hide her worry.  “They have gone missing.”

Herc, eavesdropping on the call, recoiled with a look of disbelief.  “How th’ hell d’ya lose a two-thousand-ton iron giant?  Let alone TWO of ‘em!”

“Where were they last seen?” asked Tendo, pushing Herc back.

“In the Shatterdome,” Mako replied.  “The technicians say they just stood up and went outside.  Coyote went after them, I think to try to bring them back.”

“And everyone just let this bleedin’ happen?” demanded Herc.

“Do you honestly think there was anything they could do to stop them?” Tendo shot back.

“Um… I hate to interrupt a tense moment,” Caitlin cut in.  “But you might want to see this.”

Tendo turned toward the smartphone that Dr. Lightcap offered him.  She had pulled up a breaking news story… one with photos of Cherno Alpha, Gipsy Danger, and Coyote Tango standing in the heart of the Bone Slums, surrounded by a gleeful crowd.  Cherno had one hand cupped to his chest and the other raised as if waving to the crowd, while Coyote held onto Gipsy by the shoulders, looking for all the world like she was telling the younger Jaeger off for some offense or other.  It was hard to make out on such a small screen, but Tendo thought he could pick out news vans at the Jaegers’ feet, as well as helicopters circling overhead…

“Damn it all to hell,” he groaned.  “The world knows.”  And it’s only a matter of time before the PPDC gets wind of this too.  Dammit… what do we do now?