Cthulhu Attacks!: Book 1: The Fear (13 page)

“President Hampton, I demand an answer.”

“As I do,” Zhikin said.

“And I,” Durand said.

“I’m sorry, Madam President, but we need an answer as well,” Cosgrove said as if each Received-Pronunciation–accented word were cutting him on the way out of his mouth. “What
is
this?”

At the time of these events, at the time just before Judith Hampton spoke her next words, the office of the President of the United States was inarguably the most powerful position in the world, not only because of the unprecedented military and economic might of the country, but also because of its intricate webs of support and alliance with almost every nation on Earth, including those which were technically considered “enemies.” With one sentence, with six words, the stressed-to-the-breaking-point President Hampton changed everything.

“I believe,” she said as she braced herself, “that it is Cthulhu.”

The room exploded in shouts of disbelief even among those who had no idea what a “Cthulhu” was. No one else had yet seen the video or the stills except as shown by Chairman Zhang a moment earlier. Those who
were
familiar with the science fiction monster whose caricature was made into ironic stuffed toys, slapped onto T-shirts, and featured in bizarro low-budget movies—the same wonky nerds who knew the Alien from the
Alien
movies was properly called a “Xenomorph” and the word “Wookiee” has two
e
’s—shouted even louder, not
thinking
the President had lost her mind but
knowing
it. Even if it was a joke—a strange, completely inappropriate joke made to other world leaders after the deaths of half a billion people—the fact remained that Hampton had to have gone completely insane.

The heads of state on the four large screens first listened to the translation (with that single untranslatable name) and then could plainly hear the bedlam occurring in the White House Situation Room from those Americans who made the world go ’round. No one, including their interpreters, could distinctly make out what the Yanks were saying, but every one of the foreign leaders uttered in his or her native language an almost exact cognate of what the British prime minister said in English: “What is going on in there? What in blazes is a
Kuh-thoo-loo?
”

Their confusion was bad. Once they were told, everything was much worse.

Vice President Steele said to the new A/V tech, “Turn off the monitors, Sergeant.”

For a moment, the room grew completely still.

“Sergeant,
now
,” Chairman Adamson barked, and the sergeant broke out of her daze and pushed a few buttons that darkened the giant monitors bearing the stunned expressions of the other Security Council mugwumps.

President Hampton said nothing in protest to Steele’s presumption, but instead used the wiles that had put her in the Oval Office in the first place: “Thank you, Algernon. Now we may consider our plan of action without prying eyes.”

Steele sputtered and reddened, but finally mumbled, “You’re welcome.” All could see that his obvious attempt to challenge the President had been
jiu-jitsu
ed right back at him.

“Bob, Norm, I need you to circle the wagons on the science end. Ask every question and
answer
them. Why is Cthulhu—or this Cthulhu-like
entity
—rising now? Why did the attack last only forty-five seconds, even though that head is still out of the water? Will this kind of attack happen again? If so, when? If not, why not and
how do you know?
”

Nye and Tyson answered together, “Yes, Madam President,” and rose to leave.

“Take your copies of the story—they’re the only reference we have.”

The two of them repeated the earlier assent, collected their papers, and exited.

“Secretary Katt,” Hampton called to the head of the Department of Transportation, “I need you to get the interstate cleared,
all
of it. We need room for our tanks and missile vehicles to get through to fight this creature. The drivers are dead—run a troop transport ahead of … ahead of
whatever you use
to clear the highways—and pick up stranded passengers first. I don’t care what you do with the cars.”

“Yes, Madam President,” Katt said, and left the room with his staff following right behind.

President Hampton surveyed the room, looking into the eyes of every Cabinet member still present as she went. “Whatever your department, ladies and gentlemen, I want you to put into action a plan to get us through this mess. We need personnel to man the power grid, the water system, the whatever else your job covers—and if your job doesn’t cover it and you think of it, get it done anyway. There is no chance of redundancy here; everything we need, we probably need twice and then some.”

Chairs squeaked as the Cabinet members stood—

“Take your seats, please. The bell has not rung.” She allowed herself a smile, which released the stress enough for a small laugh to be heard here and there in the room. She turned serious again and continued: “We need the dead collected and the living brought to safety. We need any living Americans abroad called back home. We need to commandeer the airlines and trains to get everyone as far north as we can, as far away from Cthulhu as possible, since that might help mitigate the effects of another Event.”

The Vice President jumped to his feet. “Madam President, there
is
no Cthulhu! There are
real
dangers here, not movie monsters! The Russians and the Chinese are ready to take advantage of this disaster, no surprise since they were probably the ones who—”

“Stand down, Mister Vice President!” Hampton bellowed, getting to her feet herself. “I need you to be my point man on the front line against this creature.”

“The hell I will,” Steele spat, and gestured for his staff to leave the room. “You have taken leave of your senses, Judith. Millions dead, and you’re talking about Godzilla’s brother-in-law like this international catastrophe is a
joke?
This job has proved too much for you.” With that, he swept out of the Sit Room after the last of his staff.

“That certainly sounded ominous,” Hampton’s Chief of Staff said.

“He’d just better do his job, or I’ll have him shot for treason,” Hampton said, making some still in the room literally gasp. “Now let’s get to work. I’m giving a new address to the American people in fifteen minutes. No, make it a press conference—let’s get this information out there. People have to know the federal government is in control of the situation.”

“Madam President?” her press secretary said in confusion. “We haven’t cleared any time with the major news outlets—”

“Then clear it now.
Go
.”

He sent several staff members to make it happen. “Any other hurdles any one of you
professionals
need me to jump for you?” The room was silent. “Then
go!
These aren’t
suggestions
, people! Communications team, huddle up. It’s time we made the world aware.”

“Aware?” the press secretary asked with real perplexity.

“Of Cthulhu.”

“Of course,” he said, looking a bit green himself, then quickly gathered his papers and retreated.

Some left the Sit Room for their own department’s or team’s conference rooms; the Secret Service attached to the President stayed in place; and the press and communications team all moved to chairs closer to the President to draft her address. However, there wasn’t a soul among them—including Second Lieutenant Berry, even though he still had no viable alternative to the Cthulhu “theory” he had volunteered—who didn’t think that Judith Hampton’s mind had completely snapped.

Nellis AFB

Event + 24 hours

Everyone’s attention was glued to the screens depicting the tentacle-faced head of a leviathan—these wonky nerds too were aware of the monster Cthulhu as an ironic pop culture “star,” Godzilla with a worse attitude, and
this WAS Cthulhu
—but in a corner, the airman piloting an infrared-viewing drone over the outskirts of Bogotá had to force himself to blink twice before he could at all credit what he was seeing.

Signs of life.

Heat signatures of living things—maybe animals, but very much looking like the general size of human adults—were scattered here and there inside the buildings during a cool Mexican morning. Maybe if the temperatures had been higher outside, the drone wouldn’t have been able to pick up the infrared radiation from the heat of moving, living things, but there it was. The tiniest pockets of people in Mexico City were alive.

“Major!” the airman called as urgently as he could while not sounding like he was
commanding
his superior officer. “You want to see this, sir!”

New York City
Event + 24 hours

Martin Storch had been accused many times of being an egotist at best and a complete solipsist at worst. But this was one of those times for any human when the rest of the world falls away and he feels that he is being directly, uniquely spoken to. It’s what it must feel like, he guessed, when the holder of a lottery ticket sees his numbers come up on the television screen one by one, finally finishing a sequence that points to him and only him (and maybe a few who used the same numbers) in the entire universe.

President Judith Hampton was talking about H.P. Lovecraft. About
Cthulhu
, for god’s sake. And it wasn’t a joke or a metaphor—every channel showed the photographs and short snippet of video that the White House had shared. To those who knew the work of the reclusive writer of Providence, it was obvious—and terrifying—that they were gazing upon the face of Lovecraft’s most famous and malign entity.

This was Martin’s area of expertise. His love of logic, his insistence on
real
causes and effects instead of supernatural “miracles,” his first interest in being a writer, all of it started with H.P. Lovecraft. And with “The Call of Cthulhu.”

He had to watch the entire thing from the beginning to get all of what the President said, but eventually he was able to see her address as well as the frenzied press conference that was as much about Hampton’s sanity as it was about any Old Gods or threats from The Deep. The sound of a thousand camera shutters and the flashes of innumerable bulbs lent the proceedings the air of taking place aboard a tall ship during a storm at sea.

***

President Hampton:
I know you’re all eager to ask your questions, but first I will make some brief remarks to the American people, who deserve to know what in Heaven’s name has happened.

[
Looks away from press members and into the main camera feed to the networks.
]

My fellow Americans, we have few answers about the worldwide catastrophe that struck the planet just twenty-four  hours ago. We don’t know who or what caused this Event, or for what purpose. We don’t know if there will be further attacks, or, if there are, where these might take place or of what nature they might be. No group or nation has taken responsibility for any of this, and every nation in the world is at a loss to guess what their purpose would be if it was done by human hands. That said, the American people may rest assured that your federal government is diverting all possible resources to finding out whatever we can about this disaster and moving to prevent another one.

[
Shutters, flashes, murmuring among the press while the President shuffles a few papers and steels herself.
]

That said, and in addition to our continued expression of grief to the global community, I am pleased to tell you that the American government and its scientists do have one promising hypothesis that is being investigated ahead of all others.

[
The room falls deadly silent except for the camera shutters, which seem never to pause.
]

We believe, and are focusing our efforts on this belief, that the origin of yesterday’s catastrophe is linked to an … anomaly in the remotest part of the southern Pacific Ocean. This, em,
anomaly
, as far as we can tell, is … it seems to be Cthulhu, the “Old One” alien god described in the works of writer Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

[
The room explodes with reporters shouting incredulous questions, each trying to yell that much louder to get the President’s attention. She motions for calm, and when it doesn’t come, she speaks sotto voce into the microphone, no doubt a ploy from her schoolteacher days. The noise level in the room drops almost immediately to zero as everyone tries to capture what Hampton is saying.
]

We are well aware that this is an unorthodox hypothesis, but it is the only one that we find actionable at this time.