#The usual disclaimers, etc. This first "Chapter" is really just a short little collection of mini-vignettes that sets up the begining of the story. You may ignore it if you wish, but don't be surprised if you miss some crucial detail because of it. You probably won't, though.#
"Preparations for defense are nearly complete," Fuyutsuki reported. "The Third Child will arrive tomorrow via UN Private Transport, direct to GeoFront entrance fifteen. Section Two's surveillance indicates that she is apprehensive but still intends to comply with your order."
Gendo smirked. "Continue," he urged.
The Sub-Commander's eyes returned to the folder he was holding. "Unit 00's repairs are finished, but the First Child remains on medical leave. If he hadn't overridden the ejection sequence he might have faired better."
The bearded Commander's glasses glinted. "He was persistent in his attempts to subdue the beast. He was also victorious, though at great cost to his body."
"Admirable dedication," Fuyutsuki surmised.
"Indeed."
A page was flipped and a paper clip moved, and the old man pressed on. "Satellite weapons and warning systems are in place, weapons structures have all been completed, and Block D's shield system has been brought to full readiness, despite technical difficulties. The Magi uplink is now operating at peak efficiency, the Dummy Plug has undergone several successful simulation tests, and the Jet Alone Project has made great strides since the update the previous month. A very good move appealing to Seele for their 'acquisition', I might add."
"Yes," Gendo said. "One can never have enough cannon fodder. What still remains incomplete?" He braced for bad news.
Fuyutsuki moved to the last pages. "The EVA's Positron Rifle Targeting and Guidance System has several faults that will take some time to repair. Technical Division estimates forty-two more hours, seventeen if they jury-rig replacement parts."
Gendo shook his head. Cutting corners was how Second Impact got so out of hand.
The Sub-Commander checked a little box with his pen. "Genetic anomalies were detected in fourteen dummy clones. Regrowth will take a minimum of twenty-eight days. The Extended Battery System project has suffered several setbacks and completion will be delayed four days or more. Also," he frowned. "The coffee machine in command level mess hall still hasn't been replaced. It sets the filters on fire about half the time, but it's still used every morning. Very dangerous."
Gendo briefly wondered if that last item was a joke, but the grim look on the Sub-Commander's face said otherwise. "How dangerous?" he asked.
Fuyutsuki glanced over the page. "Two casualties so far. One with severe burns."
The bearded man sighed thoughtfully. "Train the command level personnel in the use and locations of fire extinguishers and have the machine replaced by next week."
Fuyutsuki checked another box.
"Is that all?" The Commander asked.
The Sub-Commander closed the file. "That is all. Would you care to join me for lunch?"
"Where?"
"It's an Italian place, very subdued. I think it's family-owned," Fuyutsuki said, thinking back to his last visit. "The Linguine is superb."
Gendo stood up. "I will accompany you, Professor," he told the older man. As an aside to himself he added, "Yui loved Italian."
The Sub-Commander smiled. "Good." He set the report folder on the desk and turned towards the door. His footsteps echoed in the cavernous room that was Gendo's office. "How did you get Section 2 back up to competency, again?"
The Commander straightened his coat and followed his subordinate out. "A leadership change," he answered. And an execution, but that was beside the point.
"I don't suppose Seele would agree to the same, do you?"
Gendo chuckled, the rarest of rares, and replied, "No, they would not." As soon as he stepped out of his office he regained his stony demeanor, plastering a familiar, humorless mask on his face. Most of NERV didn't even see him as a human being, and he intended to keep it that way. Rule through fear was easiest when you were a monster.
"Surge detected in junction F-21, circuit test aborted pending voltage adjustment," a robotic voice announced. About a dozen people groaned in response.
Doctor Ritsuko Akagi gripped the bridge of her nose between two fingers and tried not to scream for Gendo's blood. "Dammit," she muttered. "Dammit mother, why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?"
Central Dogma's atmosphere was heavy with the scent of disappointment. Most of NERV's technicians were not superstitious, but the way things were going some of them would probably be sacrificing magazines and used coffee cups to the Magi by the end of the day, just to see if that would appease the infernal computer's malevolent spirit. The diagnostics were going so slowly that even Ritsuko was beginning to think Caspar was being difficult on purpose.
"Voltage adjustment completed," the Magi vocalized, "Reinitialize from junction F-19." This was machine code for "Let's try it again."
Ritsuko stepped deftly over a stray cable and took up her position behind Maya Ibuki's station. The young technician was incredibly talented, but she tended to make rather easy-to-miss, hard to fix mistakes. It was easier to catch those when the esteemed Director of Project E was looking over her shoulder.
"Hit it," the blond ordered.
Maya pressed a single key, and her terminal's screen lit up with streams and streams of data, all of it meaning nothing to anyone but the most privileged analysts. Doctor Akagi took it all in without so much as a blink, and found what she was looking for.
"There," she nearly shouted, "Right there, in the second line of F-21 process 486. That's what's causing all the circuit failures." A twinge of satisfaction made its way through her brain. That was checkmate for mother.
Maya, armed with the almighty delete key, set about making alterations to Caspar's programming. "So that's all it was? Just some extraneous code?" she asked, genuinely curious.
Ritsuko stepped back and started searching her lab coat pocket for a lighter. "Funny, isn't it?" she mused, "The most powerful computer system in the world, and a few little bits can make it blow hardware chunks all over the place." She laughed. "You better call maintenance again. Circuit Array 16's gonna need a new transformer."
"Yes, Doctor," the brown-haired technician answered.
"Just Ritsuko," the blond sighed. "Call me Ritsuko."
There was a hum, a grating clatter, and a continuous beep, and it was to the combination of these sounds that the First Child awoke, safe and sound in NERV's medical wing. Unit 00 and its overriding instincts were far away, bolted to the everlasting frame of EVA cage six. It was powerful indeed, but it would take long enough to break through to NERV medical that the injured pilot could escape to the surface. The potential threat was minimal.
"Good. Once was enough," the First Child said. He ran a bandaged hand through his tussled white hair, and attempted to sit up. He failed.
The little machine beside the bed started beeping faster and faster, its hidden meter climbing towards the trigger that would call the doctors. Physical exertion in patients with abdominal trauma was frowned upon.
Kaworu Nagisa, after several useless twists and turns of his body, contented himself with a compromise, settling back on his elbows with his torso several inches off the bed. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but the strange albino boy did not like being helpless. It was when you were helpless that an enemy would be most likely to take advantage of your vulnerability. Gendo Ikari had taught him this.
But was Unit 00 an enemy? Kaworu thought. After a moment of careful consideration, he supposed not. In the end its will had been insufficient, and it had been bested by the First Child. The battle had almost killed him, but he had still won, and that was all that mattered. The next activation was sure to be more favorable.
A spike of pain shot through the boy's bruised and battered midsection, despite the copious amounts of painkilling drugs NERV insisted on forcing through his bloodstream. After two or three minutes he was forced to lay back down, as his arms refused to support his weight for much longer. Kaworu's heavily bandaged head hit the pillow with the force of a feather, and the muscles in his neck finally relaxed. In fifteen minutes or so, when the pain lessened, he would do it again. No sense growing weak at a time like this.
The First Child reached up with his good arm (the left) and lightly tapped his covered eye (the right), wincing as a dull ache reached through his nerves. There was no question about it, he would most definitely be wearing a patch for at least a week. If only the entry plug's handles hadn't been so hard...
"They're only bruises," he murmured. "And it's only time." He grimaced. Time was in short supply. Tokyo-3 would soon see the fires of hell.
"Brought by Angels," Kaworu chuckled. The irony was not lost on him.
The sterile room's sliding door suddenly pulled away, snapping the albino out of his reverie. A smiling, almost giddy nurse stepped into the room, clad in light pink scrubs and carrying a tray of the dreaded special pudding. Kaworu imagined that the taste was slightly less unpleasant than receiving a suppository.
"Good afternoon Mr. Nagisa," the cheerful nurse offered. "And how are we feeling today?" Her smile seemed to grow exponentially, in an oddly sickening way. When did bedside manner become a course you could fail?
Kaworu smiled back, in the obscenely cute way that made weak women wither. "Fine, just fine." He said happily. "Is that pudding?"
In another, not-so-clean section of NERV, Operations Director Kaji and Second Lieutenant Aoba stood at a fair distance from one of the many vending machines on their level, holding their beers of choice and chatting about nonsensical things. They were not quite friends, but they were slightly more than acquaintances, like coworkers who once spent a Saturday hitting on women at the mall.
"No shit. Really?" Kaji was saying, barely disguising his disbelief.
Shigeru laughed. "I never saw any of those guys again. I bet he still doesn't shit properly," he took a sip from his beer, "Cause, you know, the keg-"
Kaji held up his hand. "I got it, I got it, you told me already," he groaned, trying without success to wipe the mental image from his head.
The disgusted look on the Operations Director's face provoked another belly laugh from the Bridge Technician, who was by this time thoroughly buzzed. Being around such interesting people as Maya and Makoto all day tended to increase the urge to drink at work.
"So..." Kaji sighed, regaining his composure, "Neither of you want Maya, eh?" He winked.
Shigeru shook his head vigorously. "Are you kidding, man? She's totally hot for the Doc, and anyway, Mak's too much of a chicken-shit to do-" he paused, as if his brain suddenly stopped transmitting to his mouth. "Stuff, you know, anything."
The unshaven man nodded.
"Have you ever talked to him for more than five minutes?" The long-haired technician asked, throwing his empty bottle into the recycling bin beside him.
"Who, Makoto?" Kaji answered, with a thoughtful look. "Yeah, a few times. Why?"
Shigeru chuckled. "He's depressing, man. He brings me down. Always talking about cartoons, how he can't get women, cartoons, computers..." The technician burped, after which he felt better. "Boring as hell."
Kaji nodded again, absently checking his watch. "Gotta get back to work," he mentioned, as if it was unimportant. "Catch you later."
"Yeah, later."
Following this abrupt end to their conversation, the two men departed for their respective sections, and all was well. Nothing had changed, except perhaps Kaji's opinion of Makoto Hyuga, but that was immaterial. Neither of the two NERV officers had expected any major epiphanies, as it was well-known that those only happen on a barstool at four in the morning. Suffice it to say that the conversation had no real merit at all, and they were okay with that.
Elsewhere, in a section of NERV frequented only by research personnel and the occasional lost security guard, Makoto, armed only with a power drill, carefully removed access panel 42-A and set it aside, pointing the flashlight in his mouth toward the opening he had just made in the wall. Several bundles of cables and a few pipes ran through this particular access point, and he began checking them all, searching for the elusive #5 Runner.
"Damn," the bespectacled technician muttered through his teeth, as he leaned back just long enough to wipe his glasses. The heat from behind the wall was fogging his vision.
A moment later, a muffled cry of triumph rang through the empty halls as Makoto wrapped his fingers around cable number five, yanking it until a small loop was poking through its bundle's wrappings. With several deft movements, the technician retrieved a pair of pliers from his belt, stripped a small bit of insulation from the cable, and attached an alligator clip to the bare section.
"One second," Makoto mumbled, connecting the clip to a small piece of machinery that was sitting on the ground beside him. Three seconds and a beep told him all he needed to know. "Success!" he shouted, losing his grip on the flashlight. Unfortunately enough, it fell directly onto his crotch.
Carefully raising a walkie-talkie to his ear, Makoto spoke the magic words, "Try it now," in a horrible, whiny tone. He was tempted to request a bag of ice.
"It works! What on earth did you do? I thought we had to replace the entire circuit!" Exclaimed a voice from the other end. It was Maya, hard at work on the Magi.
Makoto managed a smile, though no one could see it. "All I can say is it took balls."