Terror of Godzilla
John Rocco Roberto
Part One: Godzilla
Tokyo Japan, 1956. The bay section of the city lies in ruin. Charred and burning structures stand as testimonies to the destructive power of nature, and the folly of man. A huge prehistoric beast known as Godzilla, awakened and mutated by H-Bomb testing, has invaded this city of 2 million. When this night is over, only a few hundred will survive. Now the creature stands before the cities last line of defense, a series of high-tension electrical towers, each ready to pump thousands of volts of electricity into Godzilla’s body. From his vantage point in the Tokyo News Building, United World News reporter Steven Martin records the events for prosperity. “…George, here in Tokyo time has been turned back 2 million years. This is my report as it happens.” Throughout Tokyo an eerie silence fills the streets. “A prehistoric monster that the Japanese call Godzilla has just walked out of Tokyo Bay. He’s as tall as a thirty-story building. And now he’s making his way towards the city’s main line of defense. 300,000 volts of electricity strung around the city as a barrier, a barrier against Godzilla.”
As the creature approaches the towers a group of nervous men stand at the controls of the power station, waiting for the signal that they hope will end this nightmare. The signal comes, and a hand forces home the switch. The power surging through Godzilla only enrages the beast. Row after row of artillery fire on the beast, but this only serves to anger Godzilla even more. Glaring with rage Godzilla rips through the power towers as if they are wax. Opening his maw, white-hot radiation springs forth, the wires snapping like guitar strings, the towers buckling and twisting, melt towards the ground. Pushing pass the flaming wreckage, Godzilla enters the city, trampling people trying to get away. From the window of the News Building, Steve Martian looks on in terror. “I can hardly believe what has happened. Now it seems Tokyo has no defense.”
Masaharua Seijo is a typical unassuming Japanese gentleman of the 1950’s. He believes in working hard, saving money and caring for his aging mother. He leads a very conservative lifestyle. The events of the last few days were unnerving to him. How could such terror come to Japan? Haven’t his people suffered enough? Hasn’t he suffered, first at the hands of military commanders during the war, now at the hands of his supervisors? Like his neighbors around him, when the radio reported that Godzilla had entered the city Masaharua panicked. Running blindly into the streets, his only thoughts are of escape, but Masaharua had not counted on the extent or the scope of the panic being caused by Tokyo’s prehistoric visitor.
The streets are packed with fleeing people. Babies cry as their mothers dragged then through the streets, elderly couples trying desperately to pull the small carts they had packed with their life long possessions. Everywhere he looks, people panic, and claw their way over each other. He would never get out of the city at this rate. A woman runs up to him, only to scream as the vast crowd pushes her forward. On the side of the road, a man crawls on all fours trying desperately to pick up the contents of his small bag; obviously it contained all his meager belongings. As the rampaging mob sweeps through the manufacturing district, Masaharua begins to panic. He can hardly breath, as he feels the very walls of the buildings begin to close around him. He forces his way out of the crowd.
The side streets are empty. Surly he can make his way down through the back streets. It would take a bit longer, but in such a large city as Tokyo, this prehistoric menace could not possibly be everywhere. These are the thoughts that run through his mind as he slowly edges his way around the corner of a factory building. He pauses for a second in one of the service entranceways to catch his breath and to take a look back, concerned that some of his fellow refugees might have seen his escape and followed his lead. Once convinced that the crowd had indeed moved on, Masaharua creeps from the doorway in which he is hiding.
Turning to continue he freezes in terror. The apparition that appears before him is 100 times worst than this Godzilla. 100 times more real because it stands here before him. Masaharua has only a moment to realize the mistake he had made, as the blinding white light of the apparition’s energy beam catches him as he is turning. His crumpled body falls to the ground, slight waifs of smoke rising into the night sky. The street is quiet again, only the distant sounds of gunfire suggesting that this night was anything but normal. Suddenly, with a grinding whirling sound, a tall blue box with a flashing light on its top appears from nowhere. The ground around the craft shutters as the final sounds of materialization cease, as the TARDIS stands in the streets of Tokyo.
Godzilla continues to plow his way through Tokyo. Behind him, a wake of burning buildings are all that stand as an indication of his path. Emergency service units, trying desperately to administer to the wounded and dying, are trampled underfoot by Godzilla. Off in the distance, armored tank units take up a position to block Godzilla’s path. “They’re moving a entire tank corps to point blank firing range,” from his vantage point in the Tokyo News Building, his forehead beading with sweat, Steve Martin continues. “I’m saying a prayer George, a prayer for the whole world.” The tanks open fire, each shell exploding harmlessly off Godzilla’s chest. The creature once again opens it giant mouth and the entire street explodes in flames. The tanks are completely obliterated. “George the tanks have been wiped out by a wall of flames. Neither man or his machines are able to stop this creature.”
The Doctor steps from the TARDIS and looks quickly around. From behind him Sam, his current traveling companion, closes the TARDIS doors. “I still don’t understand why we had to leave in such a hurry,” Sam said gazing around her. “Shhh,” were the only words she receives from the Doctor. “It’s not like we weren’t enjoying ourselves,” Sam adds. “And the third meet was scheduled to start today.” They had been enjoying the 2022 Tokyo Olympics when the Doctor suddenly developed the urge to “fix something,” as he had called it. And without warning he had marched them out of the Natural History Museum, into the TARDIS, and straight to here, wherever here was. Sam looks around at the desolation.
The streets are abandoned and the sounds of military firing could be heard in the distance. This frightened Sam and she quickly rushes to the Doctor’s side. “You didn’t land us right in the middle of the war?!” Her expression was one of concern that an American firebomb could drop on them at any moment. “1956,” is all the Doctor says. He is engaged in studying the surrounding streets as if he expects to find something. “Something is wrong here,” he said quickly. “How could you possibly know that?” Sam asked. The Doctor thrust forward the old newspaper clipping he had “borrowed” from the museum. “You stole this!” Sam’s eyes were wide. “Borrowed, ” the Doctor corrected her. “It’s the reason we’ve come here. The reason I know something is wrong,” the Doctor says as he continues to look around. “Well, I don’t read Japanese,” Sam said thrusting the paper back at him. “So what’s so important about a 60 year old newspaper?” The Doctor’s face had a look of surprise, as if the answer was so simple but she could not see it. “This chronicles the events when a prehistoric creature, mutated by human atomic testing, destroyed Tokyo.” The Doctor’s gaze was lost in thought. “It also reports on the death of one Professor Shigerc Oto two days ago, one of Japans leading scientist.” “And?” Sam never did like The Doctor’s about and around explanations. “The creature, which the natives called Godzilla, attacked Tokyo and was pushed back into the sea by the Japanese defenses forces.” The Doctor looks up from his examination of a wall sign. “It was eventually destroyed by an invention called the Oxygen Destroyer created by a Doctor Serizawa with the help of Professor Oto.” “Oh,” Sam adds, not fully understanding. “It’s all a part of established history,” the Doctor continues.
Sam was now totally confused. Pre-historic dinosaurs mutated by radiation invading a modern city and destroying it. It sounded like a Sunday matinee at the cinema. But what Sam mostly could not understand was why the Doctor wanted to see it. “If it’s a well established fact of history, then why are we here?” The Doctor spins around widely, his hands gesturing to the buildings around them. “This! And this!” he adds, holding the newspaper in his outstretched hands. “All this, the city, the buildings, the people, are about to be destroyed!” He could never understand why his human companions can never see the obvious. Sam just stood there. The Doctor stared at her in disbelief. “Professor Oto went on to head the research team which investigated Godzilla’s remains.” “But that’s impossible,” Sam states. “How could he if he’s dead?” The Doctor smiles at her, now she was getting it. “Exactly!” The Doctor begins to pace, “And as he did go no to head the unit, he therefore could not have been murdered the day before!” “Murdered!” Sam’s expression was on of alarm. “Of course he was murdered,” the Doctor continues. “If he lived to head the research unit before but has now died, he was obviously murdered. And I for one intend to find out by who and why!” Well that is it. The Doctor was off on the trail of another mystery and nothing could stop him before he was through. Sam might as well follow and insure that he didn’t get himself into any mischief.
The streets of Tokyo are completely deserted now. An eerie silence creeps over the city as the sudden flash of lights, followed by the muffled sounds of explosions, break the air. Towards what Sam can only guess is the bay area, a reddish glow lights the sky. In the distance, the sounds of artillery firing continues unabated. This Godzilla, whatever it is, must surely have arrived.
From the command center located in the Diet Building, Japan’s officials direct the assault against Godzilla. Radio message after radio message is sent to the hundreds of units waiting to engage this menace. On a lone street corner somewhere in the center of the city, police and emergency personnel listen to news reports on a squad car’s radio. Suddenly, and without warning, Godzilla appears over the rooftops. The men have hardly enough time to scream as they are engulfed in radioactive flames.
“He’s dead,” the Doctor said as he finished examining the body they had stumbled upon lying in the street. “There’s no sign of Godzilla here,” Sam notes. “He must have been trampled in the panic.” The Doctor was feeling around to the front of the man’s body, applying slight pressure as he searched for the internal organs. “High impact energy ray,” he says standing from the body. “What?!” Sam could not believe her ears. “High impact energy ray,” the Doctor said again. “And at close range.” “But that’s impossible!” Sam yells, “not in 1956!” “And that’s why we’re here,” the Doctor adds smugly. “I told you there was something wrong. Now the question is, where did it come from?” The Doctor begins to look around at the surrounding buildings. They are in what appears to be the heart of the factory district, so what ever had killed the man could be anywhere. “Wait here,” the Doctor tells Sam. “And don’t move!” “Now hold on one minute Doctor,” Sam added quickly. “You’re not leaving me standing here over a dead body. What if someone comes along?” The Doctor looked sternly into Sam face. “First off, the entire city has been deserted, so there’s not much chance of someone coming along. Second, I’m not quite sure of who or what we’re dealing with, and I would be a lot happier if I knew you were here and safe. So for once Sam, please do as you’re told.” And with that the Doctor disappears around the corner. Sam is left standing over a dead body in the middle of Tokyo while a pre-historic monster stomps the city. No one ever said life with The Doctor was dull.
The Doctor had a sinking feeling that he knew who was behind the time distortion, but he forces himself not to think of it until he has proof. There is definitely no point in alarming Sam with his suspicions. Examining the outer surface of the building the Doctor stops by an old service entrance. Examining the entrance, the sonic screwdriver quickly opens the locked door. The Doctor pauses, a flash of blue white light lights the sky. It is immediately followed by the rumble of a near by explosion. ‘Godzilla must be getting close,’ The Doctor thinks to himself. Inside a musty smell permeates the halls. Packing creates and shipping boxes are piled in neat rows awaiting shipment. Each section is marked with the destination and shipping manifest clearly pasted to the side of each crate. ‘Typical Japanese efficiency,’ the Doctor smiles. As he makes his way through the rows a thought strikes him. ‘Surely this warehouse, like the rest of the city, has only just been evacuated?’ ‘Where were all the workers?’ The Doctor receives his answer as he rounds the shipping creates near the loading platform. Piled in the corner near the service elevator are the dead bodies of 15 workers. The expression on their faces told of the shock and horror that accompanied their deaths. The Doctor examines their bodies, all had been killed in the exact manner as the body Sam and he had found outside. “Three days,” the Doctor says to no one in particular. He needed to hear the sound of his own voice as if to steady the mounting anger that was growing inside of him. “They’ve been here at least three days.”
The Doctor slowly makes his way out of the shipping area and down the abandoned hallway leading towards the offices. Room after empty room pass as testimonies of the tragedy that is about to follow. Examining each room he finds nothing out of the ordinary. With the exception of the dead bodies he had found, it could have been a quiet Sunday. The Doctor continues down the corridor. Suddenly a low grumbling roar fills the air. A flash of blue-white light immediately follows it. Godzilla is getting closer!
Sam paces the sidewalk watching for any passers by. The sounds of explosions and the wail of sirens grow steadily louder. Suddenly a thought struck her; the city might have been evacuated of civilians, but if a patrolman or armed forces officer happenes to stumble across her standing over a dead body, well the outlook is not too good. The last thing Sam wants is to spend the night in a 1956 Tokyo jail while some monster looks to make her its lunch. “Come on Doctor,” she breathed.
The cellar. “Why do they always hide in the cellar!” The Doctor arrives at the end of the corridor. Standing before him is the main staircase of the building leading him to either the upper floors, or the basement of the structure. The Doctor doesn’t even have to guess at which direction to travel. Slowly, he makes his way down the wide staircase. The cellar is a maze of rooms and corridors housing all the necessary equipment needed to supply the building with heat and water. It will take hours to explore and examine all of the cubbyholes housed down here, but it will not be necessary. From the far end of the basement the low pulsing sound of computer equipment slowly fills the air. The Doctor heads towards the noise. The sound grow steadily louder as the Doctor draws closer to the storage room. A low level light clearly marks the location in the darken cellar. Quietly, and as carefully as possible, the Doctor slips through the door way and into the storage area. The low, steady pulsing now fills his ears. The room is filled with packing creates, and the Doctor has to climb over a pile to view his objective. Carefully pulling himself up, the Doctor’s worst fears are confirmed.
The sounds of sirens grew louder. Obviously, whatever it’s was, whether police, fire or rescue, it is coming her way. Reaching down, Sam drags the body into an out cove in the side of the building. She feels the flooring under her vibrate a little and Sam realizes that she has stepped onto a storm grating leading into the cellar. ‘A very unstable storm grating by the feel of it’ she thinks. “Dam,” Sam curses, biting her lip. As the sirens grow louder, Sam can not resist peering around from the out cove to take a look. Police and ambulance units race pass the intersection at amazing speed. Suddenly one of the police cars makes a sharp turn down the street Sam is hiding on. The headlights coming straight at her! Panicked, Sam leaps back against the wall, the storm grating can not take such a sudden movement, and Sam feels the grating give way. She lands with a soft thud and realizes that she has fallen onto the unfortunate body.
Springing up she quickly looks around. She is in an underground vault adjoining the cellar of the warehouse. The room is littered with filing cabinets, boxes and shipping crates. Obviously the records kept here were no longer important. As Sam looks around she hears a rustling sound coming from the cellar proper. “Doctor?” she whispers, but something tells her that it is not the Time Lord. As the rustling grows louder Sam decides that it is better to be discreet than forward in this situation. Beside what was she going to say, ‘Hello, I’m Sam. Never mind the dead body over there.’ Forcing her way between two of the filing cabinets she cautiously watches the door. What enters sends a cold shiver up her spine. Gliding on a rounded base, its gun stick at the ready, its eyestalk surveying the room, a Dalek enters the vault chamber.
The Dalek surveys the room, then its eye stick focuses on the body lying on the floor. Sam watches in horror as a second Dalek follows the first. “Report,” the second Dalek grates. The first Dalek swivels around its eyestalk to address the second Dalek. The slow monotone grating that emulates from the Dalek makes her break out in a cold sweat. “A body has fallen through the grating from above. It is dead. All is secured.” “We will return to control,” the second Dalek grates. “I obey,” the first one responds, as both units spin around and glide out into the darkness. Sam squeezes herself from between the cabinets. “Daleks! On Earth! In 1956! The Doctor must be told.” But where exactly is the Doctor, and how was she going to find him and not be exterminated by the Daleks at the same time. In the background another explosion could be heard, but right now, for Sam at least, Godzilla was the last thing on her mind.
Doctor Who – Paul McGann
Steve Martian – Raymond Burr
Dalek models by Product Enterprises
Sets and staging by Thomas Gangone
Daleks created by Terry Nation
Dalek design by Raymond Cusick
Special thanks to Robert Moore for the video captures from “Godzilla, King of the Monsters” and “Doctor Who: The Enemy Within.”
Text and Concept © 1999/2000 Visagraph Films International/John Rocco Roberto.
Original photographs © 2002 John Rocco Roberto.
Doctor Who © 1963, 2000 British Broadcasting Company.
Godzilla © 1956 UPA Productions.