Kaiju Rising: Age of Monsters (51 page)

The Great Sea Beast

Larry Correia

The Great Sea Beast revealed itself.

First, spines of bone, each one as big around as a tree, broke the ocean’s surface. Next came the great bulbous head, its skin a deep red except for where it was covered in barnacles and black growths from the depths. Then the eyes appeared, two great white oozing blobs, and beneath those was a mass of writhing tentacles, longer than anything found on even the largest of the giant squid. There were still freshly drowned corpses of Minamoto clan sailors trapped in those tentacles.

As Munetaka watched, the tentacles moved the bodies into the vast wet hole that served as the creature’s mouth, to be ground into a red paste between teeth like mill stones. The head alone was larger than his ship, and when the shoulders broke the surface, it was larger than a castle. It was so large, so inconceivably vast, that it was like watching the sea birth a new island, only this island was heading straight for them at a seemingly impossible rate of speed.

It was incredible. It was a god made flesh.

The ocean crashed around the creature as if it were a rock cliff. Waves created by the monster lifted the
Friendly Traveler
and sent it hurtling back down. His tiny wooden ship was nothing before the Great Sea Beast. Several other Minamoto clan vessels had already been smashed into splinters by the thing’s wrath. Their lord’s warship was broken and sinking. They were on their own.

He spied the jagged cliffs. “Hold this course!” Nasu Munetaka bellowed at his panicking crew. He looked toward the opposite horizon. The sun was just beginning to rise. “Hold this exact course.”

It would close with them in a matter of minutes. They would all die, crushed, drowned, or devoured. The brave sailors adjusted their sails and kept them on the wind. Lesser men leapt overboard or cowered in fear. The other samurai were struggling in vain to figure out the magical horn they’d taken from the
gaijin
, while their priest begged the water dragon to rise from his coral palace beneath the sea to protect them.

But Captain Nasu Munetaka did not ask the heavens for aid nor did he resort to foreign magic. He simply stood at the stern of the
Friendly Traveler
, calmly stringing his bow, watching the demon that had haunted his dreams come for them.

He had been waiting half his life for this moment.

His hands did not tremble.

~

Twelve years before, he had woken up screaming.

Someone was carrying him, cradled in their arms like he was a baby. They were trying to be gentle, but every touch was made of agony. The half of his body which had been out of the water had been burned crispy by the sun, and the half that had been submerged had been eaten away by salt water. His skin was peeling off in black or blue strips.

Munetaka was the son and grandson of warriors, so he tried not to scream. His throat was so dry it was more of a soundless hiss anyway, and his body was so wrung out that there was no indignity of tears. Then he remembered through the haze of sun drenched pain how he’d come to be here. The village had to be warned.
Frantic, Munetaka clutched at his rescuer’s shirt and tried to tell him of the crimson demon rising from the sea, but he couldn’t form the words.

“Bozu! Help us. The fishermen found this boy washed up on a reef.”

With eyelids dried partially open, he could barely see, but Munetaka knew they were inside. He could feel absence of the angry sun. The rescuer laid him on a mat. Thousands of hot needles stabbed through Munetaka’s back. He’d never before realized that his skin served the same purpose as his father’s armor.

Someone knelt next to the mat. Cold hands touched the sides of his face and tilted his head for examination. “A shipwreck?”

“Yes. They said he still had a death grip on a broken board.”

“He must have been in the water for several days… Ama! Get my medicine pouch. I’ll need some water boiled. These wounds must be cleaned.”

“We forced some drink down his throat when we found him. He didn’t vomit most of it back up.”

“Good, then he may still live… Can you hear me, boy?”

The crimson demon comes from the sea. Run. You have to run. You have to get away.

The memories came back, breaking through the walls of his mind. He was too young for a voyage up the coast, but he had tagged along on his father’s patrol, sneaking in to hide amongst the piles of rope. By the time he was discovered they would be too far from home to turn back. His father was a stern man, as was required of a Minamoto clan ship captain, but Munetaka knew that he secretly enjoyed having his son onboard his ship. Someday Munetaka would be a captain too, and he’d be the one to keep the seas around Kamakura free of pirates and Tairu clan scum,
just like his father, and his father before him. Once found, he’d not even received too much of a beating. He suspected his father had been more than a little proud of his daring. The captain had even told his men that Munetaka was their good luck charm. It was the happiest day of young Munetaka’s life, until the luck ran out and he had watched helplessly as the ocean turned red and the Great Sea Beast slaughtered everyone.

He snapped back to the world of sunburned pain. His flesh was so softened by days spent soaking in saltwater that even the tatami mat was cutting through him and the monk was fretting as Munetaka bled all over the polished wooden floor of the monastery. The monk was asking him another question.

“What happened?”

Death had happened, only somehow it had forgotten to take him.

~

Ten years before, his lord had condemned him.

“You waste my time with this?” Lord Minamoto Yorimasa raised his voice. “I should have you killed for your impudence, boy.”

Munetaka kept his eyes on the floor. He could feel the angry gaze of the court on him.

“Your request is denied. There will be no expedition. The Great Sea Beast is a lie. You are the only witness. A child who drank too much saltwater and cooked his brains in the sun imagined a demon to blame for his father’s carelessness. Your father died in a storm like a fool. Knowing your family he was probably drunk and drove
my
ship onto the rocks. A stupid man, always wasteful and drunk.”

The shame was unbearable. His father had been the best captain in the clan, but the truth was whatever the lord commanded it to be.

“My advisor said you display a constant tremor in your hands. You are too young to already be a drunk like your father. You are an embarrassment, and yet you dare to come before your lord and ask that I grant you an expedition to hunt for an imaginary monster? Especially now while the Tairu clan encroaches on our lands. What do you have to say for yourself, Munetaka?”

It was said that the exposure had stunted his growth. His voice was as small as his body. “Should it come again, we are all in danger. If we cannot hunt it down and kill it, we must be ready for when it returns.”

The lord laughed. “Now you are telling jokes for my amusement. You must wish to be the new court fool. Even if such a thing was real, then it must be a spirit of the ocean. It could not be defeated with arrows or spears.”

“No, my lord, I saw it clearly. It was no ghost or spirit. It was shaped like a man and walked upon the seabed. Its skin was like a whale and its face was like many squid, but it was still a creature of flesh and bone.”

“And you alone are the only one who has ever seen such a magnificent sight.”

“There are other witnesses,” Munetaka said softly. “Only last year, three fishermen near the lighthouse at—”

“Peasants!” the lord snapped. “Their word means nothing. Their minds are soft, and your drunken tales have filled their hearts with fear. My fisherman are scared now because of you. Production suffers as they imagine a big red shadow beneath them, piss themselves, and flee back to shore. Even some of my samurai have been dumb enough to listen and believe your fanciful tales.” He turned to glare at one of his retainers.

The young scribe Saburo lowered his head and backed out of the line, shamed by the attention.

“My lord
, forgive me, but I remember clearly what I saw. The crimson demon was far bigger than your castle.” He dared to raise his voice. The retainers began to mutter at his bold words. “It lifted my father’s ship in one hand as it licked the sailors from the deck, and then dropped us when it was done.”

“Silence!” The whispering stopped. The lord would have no scandal his court. “Listen to me very carefully, young Munetaka. Go back to your village. There will be no more mention of this sea monster. You will not speak of it again. It never happened. I have declared that it does not exist. Your father, despite his weakness, served me well, and that is the only reason I am being so lenient with you now. Return to your studies. I’ve been told that you show no talent with the sword and you are a disaster upon a horse, but the clan will find some use for your life eventually. Dismissed.”

~

Eight years before, he had discovered his purpose.

“Nasu Munetaka, if rumor is to be believed, you are possibly the worst student who has ever been sent to me. You are small. You are weak. You shake like a leaf. Hold out your hands.”

“Yes, sensei.” Munetaka did as he was told and stuck his hands out, palm down.

“They expect me to teach the art of the bow to such as this?” The old man watched Munetaka’s hands tremble. “Pathetic. They told me it is because you swallowed too much seawater, but I suspect that you are simply a wretched pig dog who lacks character. You have already demonstrated that you are a liar.”

The other students snickered. Even though he’d been forbidden to speak of the Great Sea Beast for years now, their daimyo’s condemnation had followed him everywhere. Nasu Munetaka was considered a liar for telling the truth. “Yes, sensei.”

“Lower your hands. Your last sensei told me you have been squandering your inheritance on gambling and pleasure women, and that you often come to training reeking of alcohol. You’re a disgusting mess, but if there is to be a war against the Tairu, we will need bodies. If you are late again to class again I will use you as a target.”

The sensei continued down the line. “You will draw until the second thumb joint nestles upon your jaw.” The other students had already prepared their bows and they stood eager at the edge of the grass of the practice field. Munetaka hurried to catch up. His father had been a superb archer and Munetaka would not fail him. “Each of you will release two hundred arrows today. First your arms will ache, then your fingers will bleed, and then you will experience pain like nothing you have ever imagined. You will pray for death long before that, but you will not stop until I tell you to. Ready! Draw!”

The targets were men made of straw. They seemed very far away. Munetaka raised the yumi. It was longer than he was tall, but because it was designed to be gripped on the lower third, he could still use it. His hands were shaking so badly that he had a hard time nocking the arrow.

“Release.”

A dozen arrows flew down range. Most of them fell short and stuck into the grass. Not a single target was struck. Munetaka’s hands were shaking so badly that he wasn’t ready in time.

“Hurry, idiot. You will draw back fully and then release the arrow in the same motion.” A few of the other students laughed. “Shut up. Did I give you permission to find that amusing? Now, Munetaka.”

It was incredibly difficult to pull it back and the yumi creaked as it bent.

“Imagine it is your sea monster,” one of the other boys shouted.

And for just a moment, he did, and they were on a sea of red. His fingers slipped. The string slapped into his left wrist with a
snap
. The arrow flew wild to the side, burying itself deep into the ground.

The sensei casually backhanded the loudmouth. “Multiple idiots. Wonderful. But if it really was bigger than our lord’s castle, that would probably still have struck your monster. Try it again, fool, and no distractions this time. The rest of you wait.”

His father had often told him that the arrow knew the way, so it had to be true. He could only trust that his father would guide the arrow’s flight. Muscles strained as he struggled to pull back the string as he glared at the target, imagining that the straw man was his sensei, and as his fingers reached his cheek, he let go.

Red fletching appeared in the center of the dummy’s chest.

The sensei nodded at Munetaka.” It is rare that a liar can shoot true. Again.”

His wrist stung from the string. He took another arrow from the bundle, and since the yumi seemed to fight him less this time, had it nocked far more quickly than the first.

The second shot hit within a few inches of the first arrow.

“Again!”

The third was just above those.

“Hmmm…” The sensei stroked his long mustache thoughtfully. “Maybe the rest of you should arrive stinking of cheap booze, too... Now imagine it is this sea monster of yours, Munetaka. Show us what you would do to it now.”

He was a screaming child on a sea of red, holding onto a fragment of a boat, struggling to stay above the waves, as tentacles fed men into a wet hole filled with giant teeth.