Evangelion Gaiden II: Redemption and Damnation

by akito01

In the aftermath of the JetAlone disaster, new revelations and deciet

EVANGELION GAIDEN II: REDEMPTION AND DAMNATION story by: Greg Falkingham Neon Genesis Evangelion property of Gainax

It was, without doubt, an incongruous sight. Lodged in the middle of the verdant, rural countryside sat a solid concrete block. It was the size of a small apartment building, roughly octagonal in shape, and a uniform slate grey. In it's shadow lay a small collection of vans and other support vehicles. This was a far cry from the masses of machinery and materials that had been assembled in the previous few days, constructing this impromptu monument.

A few meters from it's base stood a pair of white suited figures. By now the use of the environment suits were merely a precaution, and the hoods were left to dangle behind their backs. The older of the two passed a long metallic sensor along the ground, examining the readings flashing across the hand held monitor.

"Well," the younger woman asked, getting a little impatient with the process. She'd already spent the last forty eight hours on site, working under the hot summer sun in these damn N.B.E. coveralls. The novelty of the situation had worn out very quickly.

"It's clean," he pronounced, nodding. "Virtually nothing above normal background radiation. I expect it should be safe for the next thousand years or so."

"Finally," she sighed, tousling her sweat soaked brown hair. She looked up the smooth side of the concrete block, shaking her head in disbelief. "I guess that's the end of the JetAlone project. I bet there's a lot of very pissed off investors right now."

The older man gave a sympathetic chuckle.

"I can think of one organization that must be pretty happy about it," he said lightly.

"What, NERV? Don't get me started on that lot," she huffed, waving an irritated hand. "You have no idea what it's been like at the Energy Board this past month because of them. I mean, commandeering the entire Japanese energy grid..."

"Still, you can't argue with their aims," he said, feeling at least a little need to come to their defense.

"I'll wait 'till after the shootings over to hand out any praise," she said flatly, frowning sideways at her companion. "I've heard too many rumours about them lately, and they can't all be false."

He raised an eyebrow, but chose not to press the point.

"Anyway, lets gather up the men," she suggested. "It's time we went home. And I could damn well use a good shower right now."

* * *

Misato Katsuragi sat on the edge of the examination table, clad in one of the infirmaries plain grey gowns. She wondered why they made these tables so darn high; she felt like a little kid, her feet dangling off the floor as they were. A small pad of white gauze was taped to her upper arm, from where they had taken the biopsy. It all seemed so unnecessary. She felt perfectly fine, though she couldn't deny she was pretty weak the first couple of days after the incident. She supposed it was better to be safe than sorry, but it didn't stop her feeling so bloody foolish waiting around like this.

"What have we here..."

Ritsuko Akagi poked her head through the doorway, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Hey, Ritsuko," Misato grinned, waving a hand gamely. "What's up? Have you seen Dr. Ugai around?"

"Yep, just ran into him," she said, flashing a clipboard as she entered. She was clad, as usual, in her habitual white lab coat.

"Sooo..."

Ritsuko riffled through the pages of Misato's chart, shaking her head in an overly dramatic manner.

"I won't tell you how close you came to needing a bone marrow transplant," she said with obvious disapproval.

"I think you just did," Misato remarked, smiling.

"...But it looks like you've responded well to conventional treatments, and I don't see any residual effects of the radiation poisoning. Just be sure to finish your cycle of DeCon medication."

"So, I can go back on duty," Misato said brightly, hopping down from the examination table.

"Yes, there's no reason why not..."

Ritsuko caught herself as Misato pulled off her gown and began to change back into her street clothes. It wasn't that she was embarrassed seeing her naked, but she'd happened to leave the door open when she came in. Leaning strategically back against the doorjamb, Ritsuko steeled herself for the real reason she came down here in the first place.

"If you have a minute," she began, arms folded across her collection of papers. "There are a couple of things you should know about."

"What's that," Misato asked, pulling on her pair of well worn jeans.

"Well, to put it bluntly, there are a few people upstairs who were less than impressed by your handling of the JetAlone rescue operation."

"Come again," Misato said warily, glancing sideways sideways at her long time friend.

"You have to understand that the stipulations set out by the UN security council are very specific, especially when it comes to the use of the Evas," Ritsuko explained coolly. "Maybe if you'd found a way to do it without Unit One, then fine. But you set an uncomfortable precedent..."

"Oh, come off it," Misato snapped, roughly shrugging on her red army jacket. "There was no other way of stopping that thing. And if you think I'm going to regret saving thousands of lives because of some bureaucratic nonsense, then forget it!"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she replied, trying not to rise to Misato's bait. They hadn't argued very often, even back in their college days. From the few times they had, Ritsuko knew that her friend's debate strategy usually relied more on volume than anything else. Misato too seemed disinclined to push the point much further. Instead, she slipped on her dress shoes, deliberately not looking in Ritsuko's direction. There was no real chain of command between the two, but Misato was aware of the great difference in their relative positions in the NERV organization.

"Is there anything else," she asked calmly, now that she was ready to leave.

"Yes. Some good news for a change," Ritsuko said, holding out a well stocked file folder and attendant Memory Card. All the information contained in the file would be found within the slender piece of computer hardware, but paper hard copies tended to be at least as useful. "The schedule has been set for the transfer of Eva Unit Two, and the Second Child, from Wilhelm's Haven."

Misato flipped excitedly through the sheaf of papers, her smile returning.

"About bloody time," she said with genuine feeling, nodding her head. "I guess that last Angel got a bit too close for comfort. Nothing like a good kick in the ass to get the upper brass' attention, eh?"

"Just as you say," Ritsuko agreed dryly.

"Well, I'm off," Misato announced, brushing past the bemused scientist. "By the way, don't pull that sanctimonious crap on me again. If Ikari wants to give me a 'dressing down', he can do it in person next time."

Ritsuko said nothing, letting her stalk off down the hallway on her own. Misato hadn't listened to her before the rescue operation, and it wasn't likely she was going to listen now. But it had to be said nonetheless. The work was too important to sacrifice for the appeasement of a single officer's conscious.

* * *

The bell sounded it's familiar eight note phrase, marking the start of the lunch period. Shinji Ikari snapped shut his laptop computer, more or less glad for the reprieve. Seated to his right, Toji Suzuhara have a more vocal sigh of relief. The rest of the class alternately broke into little groups, or filed out of the classroom entirely. There was no formal cafeteria in this school, so the students were pretty much free to go as they please. But, for the most part, the 'three stooges' chose to hang around the rear of the class. Completing the trio, Kensuke Aida pulled up a chair, extracting his digital handicam from his schoolbag.

"So, yet another 'fun' lesson in pre-Second Impact history," he said with obvious sarcasm.

"Yeah, right," Toji snorted, seating himself up on the desk top. Exactly why he chose to do this was a mystery to Shinji, since he was already the biggest, tallest guy in class.

It was only Shinji's second day in school since his last deployment, and it was always a struggle getting back into the routine. Not to mention all the work he had to catch up on.

"Does anyone know anything about this 'semi-formal' thing," Toji asked, leaning forward.

"Don't ask me," Shinji shrugged, digging his boxed lunch from his school bag. He spotted someone slipping out of the room from the corner of his eye, causing him to pause.

"Something the P.T.A. came up with," Kensuke informed him, fitting a disc inside the small camera's recording unit. "Some kind of dance, I think. I guess we'll hear more about it later."

Toji sneered, summing up his opinion on the matter.

Shinji rose from his desk, a distracted expression on his face.

"Um, guys, I'm going to catch up with you later," he said, excusing himself. Kensuke tracked him in the viewfinder as he threaded his way down the rows of desks.

"'I'm going to catch up with you later'," Toji mimicked, glancing back over his shoulder. "What's up with that?"

Kensuke nodded sagely, cleaning his glasses with the tail of his plain white shirt.

"I think I know," he said, a subtle smile on his lips.

"Huh?"

* * *

He found her seated alone on a bench, not far from the school grounds. Her head was bowed, evidently absorbed in reading the soft cover book she held in her lap. He hung back, wondering if it might not be best to leave her alone. On the other hand, he couldn't just leave things as they stood, not after the last Angel attack.

Gathering his courage, Shinji stepped around from behind the bench.

"Um, hello Rei," he said, trying to sound calm and natural, but failing to be either. "Do you mind if I sit here with you?"

She turned a page, not even seeming to acknowledge his presence. He decided to sit down anyway, giving himself a polite distance from her. He kept from looking too much in her direction. The boxed lunch remained unopened in his lap. He thought it might be rude if he began eating, since she didn't appear to have brought anything. Instead, he fidgeted a few minutes, watching some of the sixth graders kick around a soccer ball in the school's back lot.

"I guess we haven't had much chance to talk," he finally managed to say. "You know, since the last mission. I hope we don't have to go through that again anytime soon."

She turned another page. Shinji scratched the back of his head, feeling the gathering sweat that was turning his black hair into a mess of oily tangles.

"Are you sure it's O.K. for you to be out in the sun like this," he asked, waving a hand vaguely. "I mean, with your skin condition and all."

He thought that she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but otherwise didn't respond. There were at least a dozen different questions he actually wanted to ask, but couldn't think of how to get around to any of them.

"You wouldn't want anything to eat, do you," he said, holding out the still unwrapped box. "It's alright, I made it myself. Misato doesn't really cook."

Rei turned another page. Shinji tried to make out what she was reading, but couldn't see the cover from his vantage point. He didn't feel it would be wise to lean over.

"I'm sorry," Shinji sighed, getting up from the bench. "I must be making you uncomfortable."

"Why do you say that?"

Shinji blinked in surprise. Rei was looking up at him, her red eyes focused on his.

"I... don't know," he said lamely, shrugging. "It just seemed that way."

He shuffled his feet absently a moment, while Rei returned to her book. That appeared to be the end of it. Stepping back a pace, he quietly turned around and headed back to the shade of the school lot.

* * *

The cable car was nearly half way up the side of the mountain before either man spoke. They were alone in the bus sized carriage, seated at opposite corners. One of them sat in shadows, a briefcase resting on his lap. The other, a much leaner, younger man, lounged casually in his seat, glancing out the wide widow at the panoramic view. In this time of year there was little snow cover, so most of the mountain usage was strictly for sight seeing. The events of the past month, however, had pretty much killed the tourist industry in the prefectures around Tokyo-3.

"Are we clean?"

The older man gave a derisive snort.

"They're not that paranoid yet," he told him. "It's safe to talk."

The younger man came forward, his grey-blue eyes locked onto his associates'. He seated himself directly across from him.

"Are my credentials cleared?"

The older gentleman nodded, clicking open his briefcase.

"Everything is arranged, everything is untraceable," he confirmed. "As, indeed, are you."

"And the other?"

Pulling a small file folder from his briefcase, he handed it over. The young man flipped through the thin collection of papers, a look of mild disgust crossing his face.

"Jesus," he cursed softly, turning again to the first page.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "I guess I just haven't gotten used to the new order of things. It does seem rather cold though."

"Don't fool yourself into thinking they're any better," his associate told him flatly. "The message must be sent, or they're only going to get worse."

"They could always end up agreeing to our proposal."

The older man closed shut the briefcase with a sharp snap.

"I wouldn't count on it," he sniffed, fishing in his pocket for a cigarette. "They're as stingy with their resources as they are with information."

The flicker to the match briefly illuminated his deeply lined face. The other man grimaced with distaste. Where he came from, smoking was thought of as a pre-Second Impact habit, and had largely died out by now. They had nearly reached the top of the mountain, marking the imminent end of this meeting.

"How much can we hope to gain from all this," he asked, trying not to sound too critical before his superior.

"It will make them take notice," he said, flicking the ash from the end of his cigarette. "They are receiving a spare from Germany, so it will not be an irreparable loss; but they will come to understand they are not invulnerable."

The carriage swayed slightly as it rocked over the final set of cable supports. The older man shrunk back into the shadows. His younger compatriot slouched into his seat, glancing out the window at the oncoming way station. Nothing further was said.

* * *

It was nearly the end of the lunch period when Shinji returned to his desk. He found Toji and Kensuke pretty much as he left them, though he couldn't help but observe how they stopped talking when he approached.

"Er, hello," he said, noting with trepidation the sly smiles they were giving him.

"So, how did it go with ol' pale-face," Toji teased, nodding in the direction of Rei's still vacant desk.

"I wish you wouldn't call her that," Shinji said, sliding back into his seat. Most of the class had returned by now, and the rest were coming back in small groups through the front door. Among them, at the back of the file, was Rei. Shinji tried to take no obvious notice of this.

"Yeah, we shouldn't be making fun of Shinji's girlfriend," Kensuke tittered, giving Toji a toothy grin. Shinji glared back at him, a pained expression on his face.

"It's not like that," he told them firmly, turning his attention back to his laptop computer in preparation for the upcoming lesson.

"Ah, come on," Toji said, punching him lightly across his shoulder. "If there's anyone here who's got a chance of popping her cherry, it's you."

"Toji..."

"Hey, guys," Kensuke broke in, "what do you want to bet she's got the same coloured hair, you know, down there." He pointed vaguely in the direction of his crotch.

"Oh, man, now you're grossing me out," Toji complained.

Much to Shinji's relief, the teacher entered the room, marking the beginning of class and the end of this embarrassing conversation.

* * *

Being 'on duty' was one of the more annoying, but unavoidable, aspects of school life. As part of a regular rotation, you were required to stay after classes to help clean up and put things in order. Thus, the 'three stooges' found themselves on this particular day. Unfortunately, because of the recent evacuations, their responsibilities extended beyond their own classroom. There were entire rooms now left vacant, and it was sometimes necessary to handle those as well, as part of your duty.

So, with mop bucket and cloth in hand, Shinji marched down the hallway towards the art room. It was never used all that often, so he wasn't expecting this to take long. He also wasn't expecting to find anyone one inside, least of all her.

Rei slammed down the canvas against the rough wooden table, covering it with a cloth as he entered. Shinji stood in the doorway, transfixed under her hard stare.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized, a bit flustered. "I'm supposed to clean up, I didn't think... You were painting?"

Rei's expression softened, glancing back at the canvas with an almost guilty look. With most of the stools stacked on top of the long bench-like tables, she had cleared a small space for herself to work. The lights were off, but more than enough illumination filtered through the large bay windows that ran along the far wall.

Shinji lay his cleaning utensils to one side, gingerly crossing the checkered tile floor.

"Do you mind if I see," he asked, coming up beside her. She paused a moment, before finally propping the canvas back up on it's stand, lifting the plain white cloth. The painting itself consisted primarily of a swath of reds and oranges, creating a sort of plasma sea. In this thick miasma there seemed to float a number of dark, vaguely indistinct figures.

"It's very good," he told her in complete earnest. "Can you tell me what it means?"

She glanced at him briefly before turning to stare off in another direction.

"I'm not sure," she said softly, fidgeting with the slender brush she had in her hand. "It's a memory, I think."

"A memory?"

He reexamined the piece once again, trying to fathom her meaning. In truth, he was amazed that she'd even undertaken such a project on her own in the first place.

"I really like it," he said, taking a self-conscious step back. "I hope you get to keep painting when this war is over with. I think you could do well."

She said nothing, staring dully into some middle distance.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," he said, retreating back to the doorway. "As long as you clean up after, I'm sure no will notice that I skipped this room."

So saying, he retrieved his bucket and quietly left her alone.

* * *

Misato entered the apartment with a loud 'hello', slipping off her shoes in the hall. Shinji already had the water boiling for the evening meal, seated at the kitchen table with his laptop, working on his accumulated homework. He looked up as Misato came in, meeting her bright smile with one of his own.

"So, everything normal here at the ol' homestead," she asked, plopping her collection of files and papers down on the table. The fact that they covered his own work in progress obviously eluded her.

"As well as can be expected," he replied, gently prying some of the obstructions from his books. The name at the top of the nearest folder caught his eye. It read 'LANGLEY, ASUKA SORYU'.

"Don't ever become part of the bureaucracy, Shinji," Misato complained, opening the fridge door to get herself a cold beer. "It's just one pile of B.S. after another. Avert a nuclear disaster, and they bitch about the paperwork not being in order."

"Who is Asuka Langley," he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Go ahead and take a look," she offered, leaning back against the counter. "It's our new pilot, the Second Child."

Shinji started at the mention of that title. He was aware that he was the 'Third Child', but still didn't understand the significance of the term. He flipped open the cover, revealing the general data page. The top left corner featured a colour picture of the young woman in question. She was obviously of European descent, with dark blue eyes and a thick mane of brownish red hair. Even though it was a simple I.D. photo, she seemed to exude a certain insolence that left him unsettled.

"She's a nice girl," Misato told him, taking a deep sip from her can. "You'll like her. Or maybe not. She's a good talker, that's for sure."

"There's a lot of stuff in here," he noted, flipping through the voluminous information on both the pilot, and Evangelion Unit Two. It was more than he could take in at a glance.

"Yeah, for a change," Misato laughed, joining him at the table.

"Do I have a file like this?"

Misato nodded, taking another swig.

"But since you didn't go through the Marduk Institute, there wasn't as much. But if you want to see something really funny, hold on a sec."

So saying, she slipped out of the room for a brief moment. Shinji spent the time studying the grainy picture, trying to read the arrogant expression behind this Asuka Langley's eyes.

"Here."

Misato plopped down yet another file folder before him. It's label read 'AYANAMI, REI'.

"Go ahead," Misato encouraged, observing his reticence.

Turning open the cover, Shinji examined the title page. His face creased in puzzlement. He flipped over page after page, but found the same thing.

"Blank," he said, shaking his head, "they're all blank. What does it mean?"

Misato shrugged, lounging back in her chair.

"Damned if I know," she admitted. "At first I thought it was a joke, but I guess it's just NERV's way of telling me it's none of my business. I hardly know anything about her, really."

Shinji turned the file over in his hands, uncomfortable with this revelation.

"She paints," he murmured to himself.

"What's that?"

"She paints," he said, keeping his eyes lowered on the plain brown folder. "I saw her in the art room today, painting."

"You mean, she 'paint' paints." She mimed the action with her free hand.

"Yes."

Misato tilted her head to one side, lips pursed in thought.

"I can see that," she said, nodding slightly. "It makes sense."

"It does?"

"Sure," she explained, waving her half empty can. "I mean, she hardly says a peep most of the time. So, maybe she chooses to express herself that way instead."

"Oh."

It was something he hadn't considered. He had to admit, it did make a kind of sense.

"Anyway, I've got stuff to review," Misato announced, scooping up her collection of papers from the table. "Let me know when dinner's ready."

Misato marched off to her room, leaving Shinji to his own thoughts.

* * *

She waited until late evening to grab her customary bath. Shinji had slunk off to bed, and even PenPen had lodged himself in his icebox for the night. In the otherwise quiet apartment, Misato could just barely make out the tinny sounds escaping from Shinji's S-DAT headphones. It was curious habit of his to fall asleep with his walkman on, but she never questioned him about it. His taste in music was rather dull anyway.

She lay back in the warm water, her head propped up on a bath towel. An empty beer can sat in the soap dish, but she didn't feel like getting up to get another. What she'd read in those background reports was sobering enough as it was.

She'd met Asuka in person back when she was recruited into NERV at Wilhelm's Haven. She certainly seemed like a normal, well adjusted kid; more so than Shinji or Rei.

Running an idle finger along the scar tissue which covered her breastbone, she reflected that not everyone's wounds are so visible. She didn't know who or what the Marduk Institute was, but they sure had a talent for finding some pretty messed up kids. Then again, if she were to see her own childhood spelled out in black and white, Misato supposed it wouldn't look too promising either.

Perhaps it was that the world had gotten crueller in general, at least since the Second Impact. When one goes to war against God, what does one have to fall back on? Only your fellow human beings. Maybe that was why she'd taken Shinji in in the first place. Why she secretly despaired for Rei, even though she never failed to do her duty. As as for Asuka, it didn't even need to be asked where she would be staying when she got to Tokyo-3.

Taking a look at her fingertips, Misato realized she had better get out of the bath before the rest of her body looked like a dried up prune.

* * *

"Fucking-A, it is Friday," Toji cried, pounding a fist on the desk. Kensuke gave him a bemused look.

"So, you have something big planned for the weekend, do you," he asked, a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, well, just some family bullshit," Toji admitted. "But still, the weekend's the weekend."

"And what about you, Shinji?"

Shinji turned in his seat, shrugging in an offhand manner.

"Not much," he said. "I know they want me down for some Eva combat tests tomorrow."

"Cool," Kensuke enthused, brushing back some of his sandy blonde hair. Shinji gave him an uncomfortable smile before turning back to the front of the class. The teacher was walking in, followed by a student he'd never seen before.

The morning bell rang, and all the students rose to bow to the teacher.

"Be seated," he said, slipping on his well worn pair of bi-focal glasses. "Please welcome your new classmate."

The boy stood before them, obediently scrawling his name on the blackboard. It was a form of kanji that Shinji didn't recognize, but it looked Korean.

"Hello, my name is HeChul Kim," he announced, bowing politely. "I have recently arrived in this country, and I'm sure I'll enjoy my tenure in this school while I'm here."

"Yes, very well," the teacher said in a somewhat bored fashion. "Please take your seat, HeChul."

Toji gave Shinji a playful slap on the shoulder.

"So, you're not the new kid anymore," he whispered.

"I guess you're right," Shinji replied, a bit curious. With the evacuations, it was pretty unusual to have any new transfers. HeChul took a seat near the front of the class, clicking open his appointed laptop. He had a dark complexion, and the same short, military style haircut that Toji had.

"You think he has anything to do with NERV," Kensuke wondered aloud.

Shinji's mind flashed to the picture of the Second Child.

"I don't think so," he said, shaking his head, "at least, I haven't heard anything."

Opening up his textbook, the teacher began the days lesson, ending any further speculation.

* * *

Rei took her accustomed seat on the bench, the noonday sun forcing her to blink uncomfortably in it's unrelenting glare. Parting the soft cover book to where she had marked her progress, she began to read. It was a long learned lesson that by spending these off periods beyond the school grounds, she would rarely be bothered by her fellow classmates. For the second day in a row, this failed to be the case.

"Do you mind if I sit here," HeChul asked, not waiting for a reply to do so. He smiled gamely at her, though she had yet to acknowledge his presence.

"You are Rei Ayanami, aren't you," he said brightly, "the infamous First Child. Kind of hard to miss, I guess."

She spared him a cold glance before returning to her book.

"Sorry, I should explain," he continued. "You see, my parents are both with NERV. I know there's a lot I'm not supposed to know, but I've picked up a few tidbits here and there."

Rei turned the page, unintentionally drawing HeChul's attention.

"Oh, what is that you're reading," he asked, plucking it from Rei's hands. She frowned in mild annoyance, staring at her now empty fingers. She watched him handle the book, seemingly fascinated by it.

"Frederich Nietzsche," he said, shaking his head. "Sounds a bit above the eighth grade level to me."

He opened it up, finding Rei's earmark.

"'Thus spoke the devil to me once: "God has his hell: that is his love of man".'," he read aloud. "'And most recently I heard him say this: "God is dead; God died of his pity for man." Thus be warned of pity: from there a heavy cloud will yet come to man.'"

HeChul smiled to himself, handing the book back to her.

"Interesting stuff," he remarked, rising from the bench. "I hope you don't take it too seriously."

Rei looked up at him, momentarily pausing as if to speak, but finally lowered her head back to her lap.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, First Child," he said, waving a casual hand as he moved off. Rei watched him depart, a puzzled expression creasing her face, before finally returning to her reading. She wondered how he'd been able to so easily translate the German text.

* * *

The doors to NERV's diplomatic office silently slid open, allowing the sharply dressed young American to enter. He folded his sunglasses into his jacket pocket, smiling coolly as he approached the front reception desk. The rest of the small, lushly carpeted foyer was otherwise unoccupied.

"Hello," he greeted the fresh faced woman behind the counter. "My name is David Fleming. I'm here to arrange a meeting."

"I see," she said, a bit confused. Very few meetings were scheduled person- to-person, especially since the start of the war. "May I see your credentials?"

Digging into his inside pocket, he pulled out a small indenticard. She briefly studied the photo on the front before swiping it through her computer terminal's magnetic reader. She nodded as the information flooded onto her monitor.

"Right," she confirmed, returning his card. "And who are you here to see?"

"Oh, just Gendo Ikari, and the rest of the NERV command staff," he said breezily. The young woman blinked in surprise.

"Are they expecting you," she asked, her voice slightly shaky.

"I do hope not," he said, an unmistakable glint in his blue-grey eyes.

She gave a nervous laugh before turning back to her terminal. A few moments of typing and mouse clicking achieved the desired result. A square panel on the counter's plain black surface lit up, revealing a previously invisible video monitor. The image was that of an older gentleman, his grey hair swept back from his temples. He looked less than amused.

"May I help you," the man said, his tone suggesting he had better things to do with his time.

"Professor Fuyutsuki," David said with mild wonder. "I thought I recognized you. My name is David Fleming, special envoy from the United States UN security office. I'm afraid there are a few things we have to discuss."

"Nothing that cannot be handled through normal diplomatic channels?"

"'Normal diplomatic channels' have been rather unreliable of late," he said seriously. "Besides, I think it would be to our mutual benefit if the rest of the security council wasn't involved."

Fuyutsuki looked to someone off camera before responding.

"Alright," he agreed . "We can see you tomorrow morning. I'll transfer the appropriate access papers to you now."

"I look forward to meeting you," he said, bowing politely. The video monitor abruptly went blank.

The receptionist attended to her computer as the printer came to life, quietly spewing out a small collection of papers.

* * *

Shinji strolled alone down the hallway, his school bag slung over one shoulder. It was not his usual way out of school, and he tried to think of any number of excuses to explain it. But, in the end, he was just curious. He wasn't 'on duty', but nonetheless he made his way into the infrequently used art room.

It was vacant. Shinji wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved. He sauntered over to the far table, where Rei had been working the day before. Sure enough, she had cleaned up after herself, leaving no sign that she'd even been here at all. Giving a slight shrug, he turned to go when something caught his eye.

The recycling bin was made of cheap sheet metal, tucked away in the nearby corner. This was where all the discarded canvas, wood and paper was put for possible reuse or disposal. Half hidden behind a small pile of stock wood, there was a familiar splash of orange and red. With brow furrowed, Shinji carefully extracted the poster sized painting from the bin. He brushed off it's surface, holding it out at arms length. It didn't make sense. The work appeared to be finished, but was left unsigned and discarded.

He thought about what Misato had said, about how this was Rei's method of self expression. Was this true? If so, what was she saying? Rei had told him it was a memory, but a memory of what? The thick plasma that constituted the piece was vaguely like LCL fluid. Was this meant to be the inside of the Eva then? And were those slender, indistinct figures meant to be representations of herself?

He gave a small sigh, unable to fully decipher the painting's meaning. Perhaps it was too personal to understand. It gave him a pang of guilt of think that she may have thrown it away because of his interference. Then again, harking back to the one time he had been in her apartment, he couldn't remember any art or other decorations on the walls. Was this then a one time experiment on her part which, for whatever reason, she decided to abandon?

He thought of taking it for himself, but refrained from doing so. If she didn't want it to be shown, he would respect that decision.

Fitting the canvas back into the bin, he solemnly walked out of the room and into the hallway. He was startled when he nearly ran headlong into HeChul coming the other way.

"Oh, sorry," Shinji stammered, snapping out of his fugue.

"No, that's O.K.," he said, a bit amused. A look of recognition suddenly crossed his face.

"Hey, you're Shinji Ikari, aren't you," he asked, waggling a finger at him, "the Evangelion pilot?"

"Er, yes, I'm afraid so."

HeChul broke into an inane grin, causing Shinji to mentally cringe.

"Wow, I never thought I'd end up in the same class as the defender of Tokyo- 3," he said with evident excitement. "You must have people bugging you all the time, eh?"

"Well, not if I can help it," Shinji demurred, shrugging. HeChul gave a short laugh at this, slapping him on the shoulder in an overly friendly way.

"I don't suppose there's any truth to that rumour about some girl getting creamed during training," HeChul said conspiratorially. "You know, just -splat!"

"Oh, er, I really wouldn't know," Shinji replied, nervously scratching the back of his head. Exactly who had HeChul been talking to in his short time at this school?

"Well, I better be going," HeChul announced, flicking a curt two finger salute. "Be seeing you."

"Right..."

Shinji deliberately moved off in the opposite direction.

* * *

Misato was already at home when Shinji walked into the apartment.

"Hey, you have mail," Misato called from the kitchen. She didn't have work today, and so was dressed in her usual slop around clothes; cut off jeans and a tank top. This was part of the reason Toji and Kensuke invariably showed up in the morning, under the pretense of escorting Shinji to school.

She was currently perched on the counter top, waggling the envelope at him. He was instantly suspicious; he hardly had occasion to receive any mail. Taking it from her, he saw that it was already opened, and was actually addressed to the 'guardian' of Shinji Ikari.

"It's your invitation to the school's formal," she informed him, grinning benignly.

Shinji made a desultory face, turning the envelope distractedly in his hands.

"What, don't you want to go," Misato asked, a bit disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm.

"I'd rather not," he said, but suspected this wasn't likely to get him out of it.

"Oh, come on," Misato cajoled, "it'll be fun. Dinner, dancing, all your classmates trying not to look silly in their little outfits; what's not to like?"

Shinji shrugged, finding no easy way around that kind of argument.

"Besides, the whole thing's being done to boost school morale," Misato pointed out. "So, it's incumbent on you as a loyal member of your class..."

"Alright, alright," he sighed in agreement, "I'll go. I don't know what I'll wear though."

"You just leave that to me," she winked. Now Shinji was really worried. Fortunately he wouldn't have to deal with this until next week. By comparison, the Eva combat tests were looking a lot more inviting.

* * *

Later the same evening found Shinji parked on the living room couch, television remote in hand. He wasn't watching anything in particular, and continually flipped the channel every minute or so. He was, however, becoming increasingly puzzled by the sounds emanating from Misato's room. Not to mention all the going back and forth to the bathroom was well.

When she finally emerged, it was something of a startling revelation. Apart from the time she was in full military garb, Shinji couldn't think of any occasion Misato had took the effort to dress up for. Yet, here she was, with her hair up and clad in a fairly tight fitting red dress. She finished clipping in her earrings, coming to stand before Shinji.

"Well," she asked, hands on her hips.

"Wow, you look, uh, really good," he said, somewhat taken aback.

"Just 'good', huh," she grumbled, a sour look on her face. "And after all this work. I bet Toji and Kensuke could give me a more objective opinion."

"Actually, I think the opposite is more likely to be true," he pointed out. "You're going out or something?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to spend another Friday night stuck in here," Misato said, wandering back towards the bathroom. "Especially after the week I've had. Maya says she knows some place cool, so I'm going with her."

"Maya," Shinji wondered aloud. Misato reemerged, a compact black purse slung over one shoulder.

"Yeah, you know, Maya Ibuki. Works in Central Dogma under Ritsuko. Looks kinda like a boy, about so high." She gestured at her shoulder with a flat hand.

"Oh." In truth, most of the people who worked in NERV were a bunch of nameless faces to him. They were generally either telling him what to do, or being told what to do by someone else. It never occurred to him that Misato fraternized with any of them, apart from Ritsuko.

"Frankly, I don't understand why you aren't going out yourself," she said critically. "And if you can't think of anyone to ask for a date, there's a certain girl we both know. I'm willing to bet she isn't doing anything tonight either."

The intercom buzzed loudly, keeping Shinji from having to answer.

"That'll be Maya," she announced, making for the door. "Anyway, if you are staying in, make sure PenPen has enough water, and don't wait up."

* * *

The club was called Aphex Park, set within the renovated remains of a downtown warehouse. Indeed, from the outside, it looked for all the world like a perfectly anonymous industrial building. Only the line of people, and the music that bled through the concrete walls, gave it away.

Having parked the car safely a few blocks away, Misato and Maya walked towards the unimposing edifice. Maya smiled brightly, obviously no stranger to this scene. Out of her NERV uniform, she ceased to look quite so boyish, and was actually quite attractive. Because of her height, however, she still looked terribly young for her age.

Approaching the entrance, Misato took in the faces of the crowd filing in.

"God, I don't think I've ever felt so old," she remarked self-consciously. Maya glanced back at her, shaking her head.

"Nonsense," she told her, "you look fine. Besides, all sorts of people come here. You'll see."

Maya paid their cover to the doorman, then stepped inside the dark and noisy club. The interior space was very impressive, obviously capable of accommodating several hundred people. It was two tiered, with an upper balcony level encircling the lower one, which was mostly given over as a dance floor. The DJ booth at the far end was on a raised dais, piled high with DVD players, mixers, and live sequencer keyboards. The music itself was not unlike what Misato had been exposed to in Europe, consisting of multiple layers of electronic rhythms placed over more organic, familiar instrumentation. Carefully orchestrated lasers and spotlights moved over the seething, tightly packed masses.

Surrounding this, the outer edge provided tables and chairs for the less energetic to sit and drink. A bar ran along the entire length of the right hand wall. Misato naturally gravitated to this area, followed by Maya, who was virtually invisible in the crush of people around her.

"It's terrific, isn't it," Maya enthused, nodding her head slightly to the music.

"It's loud," Misato replied, not entirely sure this is what she was expecting. Maya was always so unassuming at work. "I do hope they have alcohol here. I'm not gonna put up with any of that 'smart drink' crap."

Fighting her way to the bar, Misato found herself beside a young American, who was leaning back against the counter in a casual manner. He smiled at her, while she tried to catch the bartenders attention.

"Hello, how do you do," he said, his Japanese only a little stilted.

"Hi." Already, this sort of thing had come up. She tried not to look too friendly, or too stand offish. Well, at least he was her own age. He had short, sandy blonde hair, piercing blue-grey eyes, and a lean handsome face. He was sharply dressed in a dark blue suit, so he obviously wasn't here for the dancing.

"Can I get you anything," he asked, turning to face her more directly. "My name is David Fleming, by the way."

"Misa..."

"Misato Katsuragi," he exclaimed, sudden recognition flashing across his face. "Of course. Captain Katsuragi, chief of combat operations at NERV, author of Operation Yashima."

Her expression hardened, instantly suspicious.

"Sorry, I guess I should be more discreet," he apologized. "You see, I'm with the UN security board. I have a meeting with your bosses tomorrow."

"Uh, listen, -David, was it? I really didn't come here to discuss work," Misato demurred, taking a half step back.

"I'm sorry. You're right, of course. Are you sure you won't have that drink?"

Misato gave him a cockeyed smile.

"Well, I'll tell you what," she drawled melodramatically. "As far as the drink goes, I'll take anything with a ridiculous amount of Smirnoff in it. If you're just looking to chat someone up, I've got the girl for you right here."

Dragging Maya forward, Misato threw an arm across her back, patting her on the shoulder.

"Maya, this is David Fleming," she introduced them, "David, this is Maya Ibuki."

"Oh, uh, hi," Maya stammered, a bit bewildered.

"Go on," Misato hissed into Maya's ear. "You aren't going to find much better in this place."

Scooping up her thin glass, Misato left the two of them alone, wandering further into the crowd. She strolled through the randomly placed tables, watching the crowd on the dance floor. She wondered at her behaviour. It wasn't exactly like her, pawning off a good looking guy like that to someone else. But she knew why. Frowning, she couldn't believe that, even here, she still couldn't escape the ramifications of her job. Of course, the war affected everybody, but this was different. They had places to go to escape that reality, like this one. Evidently, Misato didn't quite have that luxury.

Downing the last of the thoroughly unpleasant tasting vodka, she slammed the empty glass down on a convenient table. This rather startled the couple who were already sitting there, but she ignored them.

"Bugger this," she muttered, "I'm going to have a good time, even if it kills me."

So saying, she launched herself pell-mell onto the packed dance floor.

* * *

Shinji did eventually take Misato's advice, at least partially.

"I hope you don't mind me coming over," he said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

"Ah, think nothing of it," Kensuke called from the kitchen, where he was filling every available bowl with junk food. "My dad is at work, and I don't usually have much going on Friday nights anyway. I'd be doing exactly the same thing."

Shinji wandered over to the bookcase, looking over the spines of Kensuke's collected DVDs. There were titles dating from both before and after the Second Impact, from both Hollywood and Japan. They did have one thing in common, however.

"You sure have a lot of war films," he observed, scratching the back of his head. Kensuke came in, carefully balancing a number of bowls in each arm.

"It's a hobby," he shrugged, laying out the snacks on the coffee table. "Is there anything you wanted to see?"

"I don't know," Shinji demurred, his expression dubious. "I just don't seem to be able to enjoy these kind of films anymore."

"Yeah, I guess they can't compare to the real thing, eh." Kensuke mimed piloting the Eva with both hands, making little explosion noises.

"I'm not sure that's what I meant," Shinji mumbled, but didn't press the point. He took a look at the assembled smorgasbord, plucking up a pretzel. "Is this all for us? It seems a bit much."

"Ha! You've never seen me eat," Kensuke laughed, picking up the remote control from the nightstand. "Besides, you don't think I got this complexion by eating health food, did you?"

"Yeah, right," Shinji laughed, despite himself. The big screen t.v. flickered to life, and Kensuke sat himself on the carpet, popping open the video disc player.

"Go ahead, take a seat on the couch," he encouraged, sifting through the loose DVD discs cluttering the bottom of the cabinet. Whatever job Kensuke's dad had in NERV, it certainly must have paid well to afford all this elaborate audio-video equipment.

With evident delight, Kensuke worked the complex arrangement of electronics, and the show began.

* * *

With her head propped up on the pillow, Rei lay back quietly reading. The lamp above the bed provided the only light in the apartment at this time of night. She was still dressed in her school uniform, but intended to retire soon as she got too tired to continue. She knew that she was due for Eva combat testing tomorrow, and didn't plan on showing up with less than peak mental alertness. Regardless of her own personal feelings on the matter, she was obliged to do nothing else. It wasn't as if she had any other plans for Saturday anyway.

With a half stifled yawn, she turned the next page, hoping to complete this last chapter. Her attention was suddenly drawn to something which had fluttered out of the book, coming to rest on her chest. Pinching it between her fingertips, she critically examined the thin metal-foil strip. Feeling along it's length, she noted the slight bump that was situated about it's middle.

With little sign of concern or annoyance, she simply rolled the strip into a tight ball. Crossing into the bathroom, she dropped it into the toilet and flushed it down. It was an empty gesture. It's purpose would have been served by now, but she had to at least make the pretense of caring.

Returning to bed, she stripped down and shut off the lamp for the night.

* * *

Shinji lay reclining on the couch, head propped in one arm. The movie continued to play on, but he slowly became aware that he was the only one watching it. Kensuke, sitting on the floor with his back to the couch had, in fact, nodded off to sleep. This struck Shinji as funny for some reason, but it actually left him in a bit of a quandary. He hadn't intended to sleep over, but would it be polite to simply slink out of here? Should he wake him up and tell him that he had to get going?

No. It seemed, for better or worse, he was stuck here. Picking up the remote control, he turned down the sound of the still running video. He'd lost track of which one it was, but something big and mechanical was doing something violent to a gang of equally belligerent soldiers. They were all pretty much like that.

Rolling onto his back, Shinji stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He hated trying to sleep in strange places. It made him feel terribly self-conscious and isolated. More precisely, it was more difficult to escape the memories that continued to haunt him. Kensuke could afford to be flippant about this sort of thing, but the violent experiences of the recent past never ceased to haunt him.

...the Angel reaches out with a black clawed hand, breaking the Eva's arm with a single twist. The pain is unexpected, but very real. It is unbearable... it lifts the Eva by the head, charging it's innate energy cannon. Blast after blast is fired, point blank. The skull case cracks open, spewing blood from both ends. Mercifully, consciousness is lost... the face plate slides away, revealing the Eva's bare eyelid. It flickers open, the luminous green eye rotating wildly, then focuses -God, what is this thing!?...

...it is a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts as Kensuke and Toji enter the plug, breaking the synchronization link with the Eva. Control becomes difficult, and the Angel is coming... it thrusts it's tentacles into the Eva's chest, trying to rob it of life before the knife can breach it's core. Battery time is rapidly running out...

...the launch bay door opens, but barely a second elapses before the building in front seems to melt through. 'Evasive!' Misato is yelling, but too late. The beam strikes, melting away the breastplate armour like butter. The LCL fluid is boiling. The screaming doesn't stop until everything suddenly goes black...

...the sights align, and the plasma gun fires. In an incredible fluke, the Angel fires at the same moment. The beams cross, distort, and detonate in a blinding flash of light. They fail to hit their targets... the rifle is still not ready, but the Angel is already glowing with an incipient energy release. It fires again, but the blast is intercepted by Rei, her Eva wielding the impromptu shield unit against the withering blaze of plasma. The seconds continue to count down, and the massive shield is melting down to nothing. Why won't this damn gun target already!?... the handles of the entry plug's emergency hatch are practically welded shut. With a body wrenching effort, ignoring the still steaming metal, it finally gives way. Rei lies prone in the cockpit in a thick puddle of LCL, the red bile-like fluid still oozing from her nostrils. She slowly comes around, sits up in her seat... 'I'm sorry,' she says, 'I don't know what I should do, or feel, at a time like this.'... at last, she smiles...

"You."

Shinji snaps his eyes open, surprised to find he had drifted off.

"Right from the start, there was you," he wondered aloud.

...Rei slides off the gurney as the complex shakes under the Angel's attack. I rush over, taking her up in my arms. She is moaning in obvious pain, the blood seeping through her bandages and onto my hands... I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away...

Turning over to face the wall, Shinji shut his eyes tight and tried to think of nothing.

* * *

Maya opened her eyes as her digital watch beeped it's tinny alarm. She was momentarily puzzled to find she wasn't at home. Then she remembered.

Sitting up in the hotel room's bed, she glanced over at the body beside her. David was just waking up himself, a hand brushing through his still immaculate hair. Some people naturally managed to look good in the morning, much to Maya's chagrin; she wasn't one of them.

"Hey, come on," she cajoled him, shaking his shoulder. "I'll be late for work. We've got to get going."

David opened one eye, looking at her bare back with unmasked interest.

"Knock it off, I'm serious," she scolded, getting out of bed. In disappointingly cliche fashion, her clothes lay in a small trial on the floor. She began dressing, cursing the fact she wouldn't have time to return home to get into some proper clothes before reporting for duty.

David sat up, abstractly hunting around for his own garments, but making no move to actually get dressed.

"So, how are you this fine morning," he said with deliberate serenity, a bit amused by her harried attitude. She looked back at him with a huff of exasperation, then broke into a broad grin, shaking her head.

"You know, I think I've finally figured you out," she said, seating herself on the edge of the bed. "That smug little nonchalance, the complete lack of self restraint -I mean, if you aren't exactly like my little brother, then I don't know what."

"Is that a good thing," he asked, wondering what Freud would have to say about that.

"I guess it depends on how well you clean up your room."

"Ah. Well, I think the maid takes care of that," he answered in mock seriousness.

"In that case, I'll be happy if can just drive me to work," she replied, reaching down and tossing his shirt up over his head. He took the hint and began to dress. Maya watched him, quietly amazed at herself that she could even be in this situation. She usually knew better. It was probably something to do with all the craziness of the last month. However, it was undeniably an exhilarating way to relieve stress.

"So, you're going to the geo-front, right," he asked, slipping on his plain black dress shoes.

"Yes. I just need a lift to the security gate."

"Actually, we both happen to be heading the same way."

"Huh?"

* * *

The three of them sat together at one end of the long black conference table, Commander Ikari at the head. To his left, Dr. Akagi distractedly flipped through her clipboard, reviewing the work she was getting behind in because of this unexpected meeting. The room was almost entirely dark, apart from the three beams that shone down like spotlights on their respective seats.

"On top of everything else, he would have to be late," Professor Fuyutsuki grumbled, glancing over at the Commander. Ikari sat sedately, fingers steepled close together in silent thought.

"Who exactly is this guy anyway," Ritsuko asked, slipping off her glasses for a moment to clean them. "Just some messenger boy from the Americans, isn't he? Do I really have to be here?"

"The dictates of diplomacy state that you do," Ikari told her, "and I suspect this may be more than usual UN interference."

Fuyutsuki sniffed in derision, but said nothing.

The door at the opposite end of the hall opened, spilling light into the room.

"Ah, I see you're all assembled," David observed, coming to take a seat at this own end of the table.

"Mr. Fleming," Ikari greeted him in his usual deep monotone.

The young man lay his attache case on the tabletop, looking brightly at each of the NERV officials in turn.

"I must thank you for seeing me on such short notice," he began, clicking open the locks on his briefcase. "I know how valuable your time is."

"Then you should have no reservations about getting to the point," Ikari said flatly.

"Just so," David nodded. "First, I must convey our thanks for your handling of the JetAlone affair. It would have been very unfortunate if the reactor had been allowed to meltdown so close to a populated centre."

"Indeed," Ritsuko agreed dryly, reflecting back to her original criticisms of the machine back at it's unveiling ceremony. The arrogance of the various delegates there towards her, and NERV in general, was genuinely galling.

"It's unfortunate that it couldn't be reclaimed. I know the boys back at M.I.T. and Microsoft/NEC were quite anxious to retrieve the computer core. They've tried to replicate the malfunction on their own duplicate systems, but can't seem to figure out how it could have happened."

"No doubt the same shortsightedness that led to the disaster in the first place," Ikari said with little sarcasm.

"Yes." David smiled tightly, beginning to pull out sheaves of photocopies from his case. "But it is too bad we'll never know for sure. Sealing it in concrete is kind of an old fashioned method of dealing with radiation contamination, though. After all, there was no actual meltdown. Was there no other way?"

"The Japanese Energy Board was in complete agreement with our entombment proposal," Fuyutsuki pointed out. "There was no reason to take unnecessary risks."

"Well, true enough I suppose," David said, gesturing vaguely. He made a mental note of this admission. The fact that NERV put forward the entombment plan was an important detail, already suspected but never confirmed. "And it would seem that with the failure of the J.A. project, the Evas are now the only viable defense alternative left."

"The Evas were the only viable option from the beginning," Ikari stated with significant emphasis, his expression inscrutable behind his dark shaded glasses.

"A fact which the U.S. congress is only now coming around to," he said smoothly, leaning forward in his chair. "Of course, you know that they previously abstained from funding of Eva Unit Six. Their attitude is beginning to change, however, and may go ahead with it. Naturally, the problem lies in trying to convince the American public that the costs are justified."

"As if the protection of the human race wasn't justification enough," Fuyutsuki snorted, scowling.

"Well, that's a rather abstract ideal, really. I mean, the general public have been left in the dark about most of what's really going on, and Japan is the only nation to be attacked so far. You can understand why questions might be raised."

"So, what do you propose," Ikari asked, growing tired of this interplay.

"Fortunately, a possible solution has already been provided by yourselves," David said brightly, pushing forward several of the photocopies. They were enlarged satellite photographs, digitally enhanced, and in full colour. Although scale was hard to judge, the two figures pictured were quite large in size. The first was a roughly humanoid shaped machine, metallic grey in colour, with six spine-like projections emanating from it's back. Doing it's best to hold back it's progress was a darker shaded figure, almost equal in height, but much sleeker in shape.

No one of the NERV officers made a move to retrieve these photos. They knew what they were.

"Now, I was under the impression that Evangelion deployment was limited to combat with the Angels," David said with only implied approbation.

"Misato," Ritsuko muttered darkly under her breath.

"The decision to use Eva Unit One was undertaken by the field commander on site," Ikari told him pointedly. "A decision nether cleared, nor approved, by any of the command staff."

"Hey, I'm not here to point fingers," David assured him, making an open gesture. "In fact, I think it was precisely the right thing to do. And, if we agree that the Evas can be allowed to have an expanded role, then perhaps it will be easier for the U.S. government to get behind the project."

"What exactly are you suggesting," Fuyutsuki asked, peering at the American critically, "that the Evangelions should be made available at your every beck and call?"

David made a sort of half-nod, half-shake of his head.

"Not in so many words," he admitted. "But simply the possibility that they could be used would be enough. It would certainly keep a lot of the ongoing strife in Latin America from spilling over into the States. The 'strategic application of overwhelming force', I believe the saying goes."

"Single gun theory," Ikari supplied, nodding slightly. "The justification used for the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the last century."

"You can't argue with success," David said brightly. Ritsuko looked at him with barely suppressed bafflement. She could hardly believe what was being discussed here.

"The security council would never agree to any of this, I'm sure," she stated, her voice betraying her disgust.

"You're not dealing with the security council," David said, smiling, "you're dealing with me."

Fuyutsuki looked in askance at his commander. Ikari revealed nothing by his expression.

"So, do we have a deal?"

There was a brief pause before anyone answered.

"You will give us some time to consider this," Ikari said rather than asked.

"Of course. In the meantime, do you think I could act as an observer for my bosses. We see very little of where our money is going."

"Very well," Ikari agreed flatly. "Dr. Akagi will serve as your escort while you're here."

"What," Ritsuko hissed, rounding on him, "the security concerns alone..."

Ikari silenced her with a short motion of his hand.

"We will give you our decision in a few days," he pronounced, then promptly disappeared.

As the lights came up, David slowly rose from his seat, amazed to discover that he was entirely alone in the room. After a few moments, the far door opened. Ritsuko entered stiffly, clasping the clipboard across her chest.

"Mr. Fleming, if you would come this way," she said, motioning him forward.

David looked at her in confusion, waving a hand at the empty table.

"What is going on here..."

Ritsuko gave him a quizzical frown before answering.

"Hmm? Are you talking about the Diplomatic Holography System," she asked with affected calm. "I'm surprised you're not familiar with it. All our meetings with the UN security council are held this way."

"I thought I asked for a personal meeting," he countered hotly, "otherwise, what was the point for my coming down here?"

"Under the circumstances, you should be glad we agreed to see you at all," she informed him, arching her eyebrow critically. "Now, if you'll just collect your papers, I think I have something you'll be interested in seeing."

* * *

Shinji deftly slipped into his designated plug suit. Locking the wrist clamps, the sheath of plastic material shrunk to conform to the shape of his body. He carefully placed a neural transmitter above each temple. They were lozenge shaped white knobs that adhered automatically to his skull, facilitating his connection to the Evangelion.

Satisfied that he was properly attired for duty, he stepped out of the pilot's ready room and into the hallway, waiting for Misato to collect him. A little while later the door next to his slid open. Rei, similarly suited up, emerged and came to stand sedately beside him.

He was a bit surprised by this. Apart from a few synchronization tests, they rarely ever trained simultaneously. In fact, it was the first time he'd seen her in a plug suit since Operation Yashima. He tried not to notice how well her body was outlined through the skin tight uniform. The way she stared so steadfastly at the opposite wall kept him from even attempting a word of hello. He silently cursed himself for his reticence, but truthfully couldn't think of anything appropriate to say anyway.

Misato plodded her way down the corridor, rubbing the back of her neck with a single hand, trying to work out the kinks. She was still stiff from last night. It was a grim reminder that perhaps age was starting to catch up with her.

Coming up to the two pilots, she put on her best smile, pulling back some of her disordered hair from her face.

"Hey there, I see we're all ready," she greeted them, nodding in approval. "I trust you're going to go and do your dear Captain proud today, right gang?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rei acknowledged, her voice betraying no particular enthusiasm. Shinji glanced over at her, thinking again of the blank personnel file Misato had shown him.

"Right, well, let's get going then," she said, patting the still reticent Shinji on the back. "You guys know the drill; primary test site, full plug insertion, nominal gain. Any questions?"

"No," Shinji replied, allowing himself to be led away. He hoped to get this over with as quickly as possible.

* * *

The primary test site was currently the busiest area of the geo-front. Most of the Central Dogma staff were present in the control room, manning the ranks of computer terminals. Next to an actual combat operation, this was to be one of the most labour intensive exercises to be undertaken by NERV.

Ritsuko walked with calm authority into the midst of this, entering the control room with David in tow. She came to stand in the central aisle, flanked on both sides by dual rows of computer operators.

"What's our status," she requested of the group in general.

"Both Evas are in stand-by receptacle mode," someone answered.

"Balthazar has been rerouted from the Magi to simulatory program function," another responded. With a start, David realized it was Maya. He looked over, in time to see her react in turn. She gave him a covert smile, blushing slightly in embarrassment, before turning her attention back to her work station.

But what really drew David's interest was what lay past the wide bay windows of the far wall.

"Now that's something," he wondered aloud, taking a few steps forward. Through the think pane of plasteel, he could see the testing chamber that contained Eva Unit One. The images gleaned off satellite photos did no justice to the reality of the thing. It stood upwards of ten stories in height, the control room situated level with it's head. Looking down, he could see the complex machinery that powered the beast, and held it firmly in place. Through this morass of steel and pipes could be seen the Eva itself; man-like in shape, encased in smooth rounded segments of purple and black coloured armour. The head piece was reminiscent of a pharaoh's mask, with a large antenna prong jutting out like a horn.

"It's clamped down pretty tight," he observed, turning back to Dr. Akagi.

"Better safe than sorry," she replied, flipping through her clipboard.

"Oh, have there been any accidents?" She refrained from answering. From the corner of his eye, David could make out the figures of Commander Ikari and Professor Fuyutsuki lurking at the back corner of the room. So, they had decided to put in a personal appearance after all.

"Would it be impolite to ask exactly what percentage are biological components," he asked, pointing back at the Evangelion.

"My inability to answer has nothing to do with politeness," Ritsuko told him smoothly. "There are simply some things that even the UN isn't entitled to know."

"And where is Unit Zero during all this?"

"In an adjacent testing chamber. You can see everything on the monitors." She pointed to a row of video screens that were mounted on the ceiling. They all displayed their own particular view, from both the interior and exterior of each Eva, and the images being fed to each pilot through the computer simulation program.

At that moment, Misato strolled in, hands tucked casually behind her back.

"Well, the pilots are inserted and ready to go," she announced, coming to a stop before the duo. She tilted her head uncertainly on seeing David. "Um, aren't you..."

"Small world, isn't it," he nodded.

"No kidding."

"Alright, let's get started," Ritsuko said loudly, addressing her staff. "Everything on my mark. Patch me into the Eva com system."

* * *

Shinji sat patiently in the Eva's cockpit, absently fidgeting with the control levels. In the time he'd spent with NERV, he'd come to keenly understand the meaning of 'hurry up and wait'. He stared out at the wire frame horizon, enjoying the calm, silent serenity of the plug environment. He wasn't sure why he should feel this way. Perhaps it had to do with what Rei had said that one time, about how she'd bonded with her Eva. Is this what she meant? The inexplicable peace that settled over him every time he synchronized with the enigmatic Evangelion.

"Engaging simulatory system, now," Ritsuko's voice intruded on his thoughts. The image on the wraparound screen shifted; the wire frames bending into the forms of buildings and streets. It created a very basic representation of downtown Tokyo-3. He was positioned somewhere on the main thoroughfare. A much more detailed image of Rei's Unit Zero was standing some half a kilometer down along the same street. In contrast to his own Eva' form, Unit Zero was almost skeletal in shape, picked out in white and blues. A single monocular eyepiece fronted it's turret-like head. It also appeared unarmed, as opposed to the heavy Pellet Rifle his own machine possessed. He unconsciously looked down at the console located between his knees, where a small screen kept track of ammunition levels, amoung other sundry data.

"This combat trial with be based around contingency zero-zero-one-three," Ritsuko instructed. "Possible Angelic possession and/or infection of an Evangelion. Your objective will be to neutralize the opposing Eva within the alloted time limit."

Shinji frowned at this, glancing around the cockpit as if momentarily lost.

"Excuse me, Miss Akagi," he said, with as much authority as he could muster, "but I don't remember being briefed on any of this."

"You have all the information you need," she replied curtly. "The duration of the mission shall not exceed two minutes, or both pilots are considered 'lost'. We will begin shortly. Please stand by..."

With these words, the landscape portrayed on the monitor again began to change. Wire frames became polygons, which became textured polygons. With each passing second, the level of detail increased layer upon layer. The processing power brought to bear by the Balthazar super-computer soon created a version of Tokyo-3 that was virtually indistinguishable from the real thing. Only the absence of human life betrayed it's artificial nature.

"Operation commences in three, two, one..."

In an automatic reflex, Shinji pulled back on the right control lever, raising the rifle. He pressed the trigger, not even waiting for the on- screen targeting markers to align. Rei, however, had already vacated the space, the explosive shells detonating in thin air. He caught the movement of her Eva to this right as she dodged past the various skyscrapers. He tracked her motion, firing in short bursts whenever he thought he had her in his sights. As far as he could tell, they all missed, exploding against the sides of bank offices and condominiums. He tried not to repeat an earlier mistake, covering his opponent with the smoke from his own weapon.

He quickly understood what she was doing; she was actually spiraling in towards him. Anticipating her next appearance, he levelled the gun to the spot and waited. A heartbeat too late, he realized his error. She had backtracked.

He swung the rifle around to this left, but she was already in the air, leaping over the last set of low-rise buildings. He fired anyway, but was slammed down onto the pavement as she landed feet first into his Eva's torso. Because of the synchronization interface, the sensation was very real, and he was briefly winded by the blow.

He stared in amazement and horror as Unit Zero knelt down over his prone form, a Prog Knife now held in it's hands. The rifle having been knocked clear away, Shinji thumbed the switch to release his own knife from it's shoulder holster. Fighting with the controls, he tried to reach around back to grab hold of it. With ear deafening slams, Rei was pounding repeatedly on the centre of his chest with the down pointed blade. Red alarm beacons were lighting up all over the cockpit. The computer display informed him: A.T. FIELD COLLAPSED HULL BREACH IMMINENT IN TEN SECONDS NINE EIGHT Shinji grunted with the effort, pushing forward with both hands in an attempt to get Unit Zero off his torso. THREE TWO ONE The video screen turned to white noise static, the control levers now dead in his hands. OPERATION COMPLETE IN 1:14 VICTORY: UNIT ZERO

* * *

"Well, that was interesting."

David turned from the monitor back to Dr. Akagi.

"Tell me if I'm wrong," he asked her. "I was under the impression that Unit One was the test model, whereas Unit Zero is merely an activation prototype. Shouldn't this battle have gone the other way?"

"No shit, Sherlock," Misato spat under her breath, pounding a fist into her palm.

Ritsuko have him a half apologetic shrug, glancing back at her commander.

"Alright, that does it," Misato cried, stalking towards the exit. "Eject the entry plugs. I'm going down to have a talk with our 'star' pilot."

"Hey, wait," Ritsuko pleaded as she brushed past. "We still have more trials to run..."

"You really think there's much point in going on at this rate," she called back, pausing briefly at the doorway before leaving for good.

Ritsuko threw up her hands in defeat, turning to address the expectant faces of her staff.

"I guess we'll just take five," she told them. "Eject the plugs and put everything on stand-by. If anyone's got any 'business' to take care of, you might as well do it now."

The tension in the control room broken, she pocketed her glasses and made for the back of the room to grab a mug of coffee. David took note of the fact that Ikari had already made a silent exit of his own.

"I don't suppose there's much else to see," he offered, tagging along behind. "If it will take at least one more thing off your mind, I'll be glad to head back to the surface and leave you to your work."

"Sure. I'll have one of the security personnel escort you out."

David took one last look in Maya's direction before allowing himself to be led out the door.

* * *

"What the hell was that!?"

Misato stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

"I mean, you just stood there like a bump on a log. Do you have any excuse for yourself?"

Shinji sat on the low metal bench, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. He wiped away a trickle of LCL that escaped from his nose, still not daring to look her in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly, not even sure why she was so pissed off. "I guess I just find it hard to fight against Rei. After all, she saved my life."

"I see," Misato replied dryly, shifting her posture. "So, she's saving your life one day, then kicking your ass the next. And this confuses you, does it? It shouldn't, because it's for exactly the same reason. Would you care to guess what that is?"

Shinji shrugged in silent reply.

"It's because she follows orders; unlike some other pilots I could mention."

"Because she follows orders," he repeated, looking over at his superior officer. "Is that really all there is to it?"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," Misato sighed, clapping a hand to her forehead. "It's only a simulation. Does everything have to be an existentialist crisis for you?"

Shinji stared dully at the ground, once again feeling that insidious sense of guilt and failure. He knew that, if they had the choice, they would probably do without him entirely. Maybe, now that Asuka was coming, they could. But that wasn't the only thing bothering him.

"Captain Katsuragi," he asked, his voice soft and uncertain, "what was that Dr. Akagi was saying, about 'Angelic possession'?"

Misato warily lent back against the door frame.

"I don't know, Shinji," she said, shaking her head. "Those aren't the sort of questions you should be asking. Man, any other day and this sort of poor performance wouldn't mean so much, but with the top brass watching..."

"Father was there," he exclaimed, sitting upright.

"Oh, er, yes..."

Misato unfolded her arms, aware that she'd inadvertently stumbled into yet another sore spot. Talking with Shinji was often akin to strolling through a minefield.

"Alright, look, it doesn't matter," she said, scratching a hand nervously at the back of her head. "I'll tell them you're coming down with something, and get them to put this whole thing off for another time. O.K.?"

She made as if to leave, but Shinji stopped her with another question.

"And what about Rei?"

"What about her," Misato shrugged.

Shinji fidgeted with his hands, as if debating about what he was going to say.

"I was wondering if you were going to talk to her too," he said at last. "I don't know why you expected her to lose, but I think she did a really good job. I hope you'll tell her that."

Misato gave a tired sigh.

"I don't think she needs that kind of praise from me," she told him honestly. "I doubt she'd care to hear it."

Misato slid the door of the ready room shut, giving him his privacy.

* * *

A few days later found Shinji, Toji and Kensuke strolling along the sidewalk to school. The humidity of the past week had broken, making the summer heat a bit easier to bear. Shinji walked between his two compatriots, half a step behind. The conversation still revolved around one central topic.

"So, what exactly happens at this 'formal' thing again," Toji asked, his tone suggesting he wouldn't approve of the answer.

"It's only a 'semi-formal'," Kensuke explained, "and nothing really 'happens'. It's just supposed to be a school get together, more or less."

"But you have to dress up?"

"Well, yeah..."

"And there'll be food?"

"Yep."

"And you're supposed to bring a date?"

Kensuke made a so-so gesture with his hand.

"Ostensibly, yes," he said, "but I don't think it matters much. Otherwise, none of us will be getting in, eh guys?"

"Oh, hey, what about Misato," Toji exclaimed, throwing a thumb back in Shinji's direction. "I mean, she's going to come, right?"

Shinji made an exaggerated shrug.

"I don't know," he demurred, "I wouldn't think so."

"But she's with the P.T.A., right? So, it's not like she couldn't. Man, you've got to convince her to come."

Shinji made a desultory face, hoping to get off the topic as quickly as possible.

"Now, that would be worth wearing a tie for," Kensuke agreed. "Getting to see Misato dressed up in something nice, that would be interesting..."

"You guys just never give up, do you," Shinji said with mild wonder.

"And you just never try," he countered, not unkindly. Shinji rolled his eyes in exasperation.

* * *

David was leaning against the railing of the hotel balcony when the call finally came. It was midday, and the angular skyscrapers that formed the downtown core glinted brightly in the stark sunlight. The entire city was planned from the start to finish; a fortress of urban life, all built for the benefit of NERV. He'd had much opportunity to experience this city first hand, and was immediately impressed by the sheer ordinariness of it. People living and working at virtual ground zero, yet it was no different from life in New Detroit or Portland. No doubt it was that same kind of resilience that enabled mankind to rebuild after the holocaust of the Second Impact.

Perhaps this was proof that man didn't need God after all. The idea was anathema to everything that he believed, but he realized that he was starting to have doubts. But there was something else.

His thoughts were interrupted by the chirping of his cell phone. Plucking it from his jacket, he pulled up the antenna and activated the link.

"Hello, Fleming here... Ah, I see... I'm sorry to hear that. I appreciate you telling me personally, Professor. Usually it's the lower ranks that get stuck with the delivery of bad news... Well, perhaps sometime in the future... Goodbye, Professor."

With a push of the thumb, the cell phone cut the connection.

David frowned to himself, staring out over the cityscape once again. There was just one more meeting to attend. For all intents and purposes, his role in this affair was finished. It was now up to the other. The only thing left to decide was who is to die.

* * *

The shopping mall was as busy as it ever got for an average weekday. With the onset of the lunch period, students from the nearby schools flooded into the food court. David rode the escalator down to the concourse level, his eyes alert for any sign that he was being followed. With the crowd of uniformed youngsters, any adults like himself would be easy to spot. He'd already established a pattern of going out to random locations to eat, and there wasn't any obvious surveillance in the time he'd been in Tokyo-3 anyway. But, it was better to err on the side of caution.

Standing in line at the ubiquitous McDonald's, he retrieved his tray and waded through the forest of occupied tables. This too was calculated; it made sharing a table necessary, and thus attracted less attention to himself. He made his way to the prearranged table, where his contact was already waiting. There was no immediate acknowledgment between the two as David sat himself down on the cheap plastic seat. As far as anyone could tell, they were complete strangers; which was, in fact, true.

"The proposal was rejected," David said softly, his voice nearly drowned out over the general level of background noise.

"So, who is it to be," the other asked bluntly, smearing a French fry in a convenient puddle of ketchup.

David wiped a nervous hand across his jaw, almost preferring not to say anything at all. "My first instinct was to go for the son," he offered, "but from what I've seen, I think the girl might be a better choice."

The other nodded, taking a sip from his straw.

"Good. A more isolated target, much easier."

David sighed grimly, looking down at this still untouched tray of fast food.

"Have they given you much of an escape window," he asked casually. His companion scowled in disapproval.

"You don't need to know anything more," he said sternly, "I suggest you finish your food and leave."

"Sorry. I was just concerned for your welfare."

"Don't be a hypocrite," he replied, narrowing his eyes. "Just be glad you had the easy part. By the time you board your plane, it will all be over."

Getting up from the table, he left David and disappeared into the crowd. David knew well enough not to show any emotion, but he was sitting uneasy within himself at this particular moment. Maybe NERV wasn't much better, but was this way really the lesser of two evils?

* * *

"Come on, aren't you ready yet?"

Misato sat in the kitchen, slouched back in her chair, waiting for Shinji to make his grand entrance.

"In a minute..."

Misato was feeling rather pleased with herself. A bit of running around, a bit of expert finagling, and the right amount of badgering meant that Shinji was going to this school function in due style. Well, the poor boy deserved it, regardless of his occasional slip-ups. It was called 'positive reinforcement' back in the army, a well established motivational technique. Not that she was thinking entirely in those terms, but it made a good excuse if someone like Ritsuko started asking questions.

Shinji emerged from his room, coming to stand in the middle of the hallway where Misato could get a good look at him. She broke out into an inane grin, barely able to contain a sudden urge to laugh.

"Oh, that is too precious," she snickered, slapping a hand down on the table top.

He was clad in a crested, dark navy blazer, with matching slacks and dress shoes. His crisp white shirt was topped by a thin red tie, complete with a gold tie pin featuring the NERV logo. A bit of mousse had done it's work to his normally ragged hair.

"I feel silly," he grumbled, fidgeting with the end of his necktie.

"Nonsense," she admonished him. "You look really sharp. I mean it, in ten years time, you'll have to beat back the women with a stick."

Shinji made a noncommittal shrug, finding the notion rather unlikely at best.

"So, who are you taking," she asked parenthetically, folding her arms casually across the back of her head.

"Er, well, no one, I guess," he said, waving a hand vaguely. Misato smirked at this.

"Same ol' Shinji," she sighed out loud. "I hope you haven't forgotten a certain girl, who I'm sure wouldn't turn down a nicely offered invitation..."

"Oh." Again with the innuendo.

"Anyway, you might was well get going," she suggested. "The limo I borrowed from the diplomatic office is waiting downstairs."

"A limo?"

"With driver. Not bad, eh," she said, winking. "And I bet you thought the only thing your Captain was good for was bitching and complaining."

"And drinking," Shinji added. Misato made a face of open surprise and wonderment.

"A zinger," she exclaimed, half to herself. "My God, there's hope for the boy after all. Now get going before I decide to return the favour."

"Right..."

As Misato had said, a long black limousine waited outside the front lobby. A formally dressed chauffeur allowed him into the back seat, which Shinji actually found a little embarrassing. He certainly didn't feel like he deserved any of this treatment, and would have been perfectly happy to give this whole thing a miss.

He sat in the spacious rear compartment, looking in mild amazement at the layout. Besides being sumptuously upholstered, there was also a telecommunications console, and even a wet bar provided. He felt rather small in the face of all this.

"Is there anywhere you wish to stop off first, before we go to the banquet hall," the driver asked through the intercom system.

Shinji paused before speaking. "No, I um... Actually, yes..."

* * *

Rei checked on the steamer once again, mentally calculating when the whole lot should be done. Replacing the glass cover, she leant back against the wall and waited. It wouldn't be fair to call it a kitchen. In fact, it was the entrance hallway, with her cooking implements piled haphazardly on top of the small fridge. The whole process involved going back and forth to the sink in the bathroom, which was less than convenient, but unavoidable.

However, this wasn't the only reason she disliked this activity. She understood that others derived a great deal of pleasure out of both cooking and eating, but she never did. There was something inherently alien, even disgusting, about this taking in of foreign substances into one's body. If she could think of some other way of sustaining her health, she would. Such as it was, she ate as little as possible, and was continually being warned by NERV doctors about her weight. She did, however, restrict her diet entirely to vegetables and diary; the idea of ingesting some part of a formerly living animal was entirely unthinkable.

Without any forewarning, the front door swung violently open. HeChul stepped inside, shutting it swiftly behind him.

"Don't move," he warned, reaching into his long grey coat. He extracted a compact black automatic pistol, fitted with a long silencer over it's barrel.

Rei straightened, looking on numbly as he levelled the gun at her forehead.

"It will take ten minutes before any help can arrive," he informed her, "I plan to be out of here in five."

Rei knew this already. NERV surveillance was neither constant nor invasive, but she came to understand that privacy was not a luxury she possessed. But it wasn't a shield either; a truth she was all too familiar with.

"My primary mission is simply assassination," he told her bluntly, arm still outstretched. "I've also been instructed that your life could be bought off with information. Personally, I doubt you're the kind to be so easily intimidated, and I'll probably end up having to kill you anyway. Still, I've never been one to disobey an order -how 'bout you?"

Rei stared at him blankly.

"Let's start with an easy one," he said, leaning casually back against the door. "Explain the nature of the A.T. Field."

"What is the boundary between the light and the darkness," she replied, her voice soft and calm.

HeChul frowned in contempt. "What kind of answer is that supposed to be?"

"I don't have the kind of answers you want," she told him, "they don't exist."

"Well, that is too bad," he sighed, pulling back the slide of the gun.

* * *

Toji picked up his knife and fork and began to rap out a little percussion on the crystal glasses. Hikari Horaki looked sternly over in his direction, brow furrowed.

"Knock it off," she scolded him, officiously re-folding the napkin over her lap.

"Boy, how did we get stuck at the same table with the class rep," he complained, openly scowling.

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on you smart asses," she snapped archly.

"Nice mouth," he said with mock disgust. "You kiss your mother with that thing?"

"'When Harry Met Sally'," Kensuke murmured brightly, resettling his glasses.

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Hey, wait a sec," Toji said, looking at Kensuke as if for the first time. "You put on a jacket and tie, and you're supposed to be dressed up?"

"I told you it was only a 'semi-formal'," he pointed out. "There's no reason you had to wear a full tux."

"Yeah, like my parents were going to let me wear anything else," he grumbled darkly. "And where the hell is Shinji already? He didn't weasel out on us, did he?"

Kensuke shrugged in open ignorance.

"There's a few people that haven't showed up yet," he observed, glancing around the hall. Seeing the whole population of the school in one place was something of a revelation. However, most of the individual classes were loosely clumped together, making it easier to search for familiar faces. "No surprise that Rei isn't here. And I don't see the new kid..."

"Smarmy little creep," Toji remarked.

"If you haven't anything good to say," Hikari corrected him.

"And who called who 'smart asses' again?"

Kensuke smiled to himself. This was turning out to be quite an entertaining evening.

* * *

Shinji finished his tramp up the stairwell, standing on the landing of the fourth floor. He'd given the intercom buzzer a miss; if it was anything like the elevators in this building, then there wasn't much chance of it working. It also meant that, even now, he could still back out of this. Was there really any chance she would say yes? Is that what he wanted, or was he merely fulfilling other's expectations of what he should do?

No, there wasn't any point to that kind of thought. He wouldn't run away.

Stepping up to the front door, he screwed up his courage and knocked sharply.

"Rei? I'm coming in," he announced and opened the door. He was startled to find it stuck partway, then suddenly swung open.

The first thing he saw was the barrel of a gun. Without thinking, he threw his arm upwards in a desperate attempt to knock it away. The silencer made a sharp sneeze as the bullet launched itself into the wooden doorjamb. Rushing forward, Shinji tackled his opponent, only registering after the fact that it was HeChul. With gritted teeth, he grabbed at his wrists, banging the hand down on the floor until he let go of the gun.

"What are you doing here?"

The question came from Rei, who stared down at him with a look Shinji could only describe as resentment. He sat on top of HeChul, keeping him down as best he could, fighting for control.

"I was, that is... He was trying to kill you, wasn't he," Shinji rasped, trying to come to grips with everything that was happening, and Rei's incongruously sedate manner. It didn't make sense.

Frowning with distaste, Rei stooped down and retrieved the gun. Although she wasn't aiming it anywhere in particular, HeChul stopped his struggling when he saw what she'd done.

"What is going on here," Shinji demanded, adrenaline still coursing through his body. "Who are you!?"

"I'm not obligated to answer," HeChul replied flatly. "I have no reason to. My life was forfeit from the beginning. Just like yours."

"Mine?"

"You're Eva pilots, aren't you," he said. "Why don't you ask the girl. She understands."

Shinji looked up at Rei, but she simply held out her hand.

"Your phone."

Bewildered, he dug into his jacket pocket. He gave over the cell phone that Misato had given him when he first moved into her apartment. Rei entered a five digit code, and pressed the 'send' button.

"NERV security has been notified," she informed them, handing it back. "None of us shall leave until they arrive."

"So that's it!?"

Neither Rei nor HeChul chose to respond.

* * *

Misato hastily moved down the corridor, doing everything except actually running. She hadn't spent much time in this part of headquarters before, and it took a while for her to get her bearings. She finally found him in the front lobby of the Intelligence Division offices, seated on one of the wall mounted benches.

"Shinji," she breathed, coming up beside him. "You're all right."

He looked up, a somewhat blank expression on his face.

"Yeah, I uh..." He waved a hand back down the hallway. "They just finished 'debriefing' me. I guess I'm free to go."

Misato sat down beside him, giving him a supportive pat on the back.

"I heard what happened," she said. "You did good. I'm glad you weren't hurt."

Shinji stared vacantly at the floor.

"He was going to kill Rei," he said softly. "Why would he want to do that? Who was he?"

Misato spread her hands in a gesture of bafflement.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe it was random. Maybe he was trying to score points for notoriety. Or..."

Misato seemed to catch herself, drawing Shinji's attention.

"What is it?"

"Did I ever tell you what happened inside the JetAlone?"

Shinji shook his head. Misato glanced nervously over, but no one else was within earshot.

"The truth is, I really didn't do anything," she explained reluctantly. "The computer wouldn't accept the termination command, and the control rods couldn't be moved manually. The shut down was as spontaneous as the original malfunction."

"Then..."

"It was no accident, or even simple sabotage. The whole command program would had to have been rewritten, and there are very few with the motive and expertise to do that kind of thing."

Shinji quickly caught on to what she was implying.

"So, maybe someone decided this was pay back time," Misato concluded grimly. Shinji stared at her in disbelief. She shrugged in sympathy.

"Come on," she encouraged, rising from the bench, "let's get out of this place."

* * *

HeChul looked up at this new arrival. He was kneeling on the floor, his hands cuffed behind his back. The white padded walls of the room permitted no shadows, and muffled every sound.

"Oh, it's you."

Rei stared impassively down at him, saying nothing.

"I'm not sure what you expect," he shrugged. "I've already been interrogated, and it's not as if I'm going to start talking now."

HeChul gave a vocal sigh when it appeared that Rei had no intention of leaving.

"You know, I think we're a lot alike," he remarked, meeting her stare. "I went into this knowing that I would probably die. You enter each mission with exactly the same expectation, don't you? I could tell when I aimed the gun at you. I would have reacted the same way."

Her expression seemed to soften, but she still remained silent.

"I know too how little choice we each have," he continued. "Things were pretty bad in my part of the world after the Second Impact. I was an orphan, picked up starving in the streets. They gave me more than food and shelter, though. They gave me a purpose in life. The fact that this involved killing people was hardly an issue; if not for this, I would be dead anyway."

HeChul took a deep, calming breath. Why did he get the feeling he was in a priest's confessional all of a sudden?

"You know, you're friend Nietzsche was right," he said, lowering his head. "God is dead. I don't expect there will be any redemption for either of us."

"No."

HeChul looked up, seeing that Rei was visibly shaking.

"We're not the same," she scolded him, her face set in a rigour of anger. "You've always had a choice; that's what it is to be human. And one does not need God to find redemption. You'll see."

So saying, she spun on her heel and marched out the door. It snapped shut noiselessly behind her, leaving HeChul in a state of abstract confusion.

* * *

Commander Ikari frowned in puzzlement as she crossed the marble tiled floor towards him. He pushed aside the laptop computer, giving the girl his full attention when she came to stand before his desk.

"What do you want, Rei," he asked, his voice concealing the mild surprise he felt at this unannounced intrusion.

She looked down at the floor, not quite able to meet his gaze.

"I've come to ask a favour," she said at last.

"A favour?"

* * *

It was sometime in the middle of the night when they came for him. The overhead lights flared to life, and the door slid sharply open, allowing the three security personnel to enter. HeChul was dragged to his feet from the floor, the manacles removed. With little time to catch his wits, he was swiftly marched outside.

So, the inevitable moment had finally arrived. He dimly wondered what method would be used. Not that it really mattered much, but he did have a sort of academic interest.

There was little traffic in the corridors they crossed, and thus little noise apart from their own echoing footsteps. This procession continued for a few minutes until they arrived at their destination. One of the guards activated the door to the otherwise anonymous room, ushering the boy inside.

He was pushed down onto an ordinary swivel chair, whereupon the men promptly left without a single word. The room itself was a simple cubicle, the walls painted the same plain white as the rest of the complex. Opposite him, seated at an office style desk, was a lean man in his late forties, with sandy blonde hair and thick glasses. He looked at HeChul briefly before turning to his computer.

"Your name is HeChul Kim," he asked formally.

HeChul slumped in his seat. So, it was just more interrogation. He was a bit disappointed, after all this build up.

"You can choose not to answer if you wish," the man said, operating the mouse controller. "I just thought you might feel silly, walking around with an alias on your identicard."

"My identicard?"

HeChul looked up, brow furrowed. He noticed for the first time the name plate sitting on the desk. It read, 'Hitoshi Aida, dir. NERV int.'

"Yes, you will need one if you're going to be working here."

Aida read the confusion in the boy's eyes.

"I know, it doesn't make a great deal of sense to me either," he assured him, his expression fixed. "But it would seem you've impressed someone upstairs, and I'm obligated to follow their directive. Of course, if you prefer, we can take care of you the old fashioned way..."

"No."

HeChul was momentarily surprised by his own reaction.

"Right," Aida nodded, "so it's settled. There isn't actually much here to do, however. I have no place for you in the field. But, if you can handle some of the dull paperwork, then I figure you can earn your keep. Does this sound agreeable?"

"Uh, sure." A strange grin spread across his face despite himself. This was about the damnedest thing he'd ever heard of, but he suspected he knew who to thank. "And, by the way, HeChul Kim is my real name. Never saw the point of using any other."

When HeChul finally left the office, he felt lightheaded and weak. Perhaps it was elation. In any event, he pulled out the file folder from beneath his arm and bean to read as he strolled down the corridor. It's matte black cover proclaimed in simple red lettering, 'Welcome To NERV'.

* * *

Shinji sat at the kitchen table, his still undone homework spread out before him. He couldn't really concentrate though, and was just picking absently at the keys of his laptop. He didn't have to cook tonight, since it was one of Misato's rare turns to do so. This invariably meant eating instant, microwavable substances that only pretended to be actual food. Well, he'd gotten used to it by now. She was strangely late, however.

As if on cue, Misato walked in through the front door, a sprightly smile on her lips.

"Hey there," she said, wandering into the kitchen. "How you holding up?"

"Oh, er, fine," Shinji shrugged, conscientiously deleting all the random characters from the computer screen.

"Well, I know you missed out on your little school prom," she said kindly, leaning back against the counter. "Not to mention everything else. But, I think I've got something that will cheer you up. A couple of things, actually."

Shinji looked at her quizzically.

"First, I've arranged it so that you and your pals can come along with me when I go out to meet the pacific fleet. You know, the one bringing over Unit Two."

"Oh." Well, Kensuke and Toji should sure be happy about that.

"As for the other thing, I'm going to have to ask you to go put your suit on first."

Shinji started to get that sinking feeling again.

* * *

It was one of the poshest hotels still operating in Tokyo-3, and though business had certainly fallen off, it gave no appearance of being in dire straits. Misato led Shinji into the restaurant, evidently having already made arrangements. In order to fit into the general ambience, she too had to dress up, though it was really the same red dress he'd seen her in before. She didn't tend to keep much of a wardrobe, at least not of anything fancy.

The restaurant was softly lit, with candelabra on each table for additional effect. At the far end was a large clear space, with an impressive chandelier hanging over head, and a kind of raised dais for live musicians. Shinji wondered how much this whole evening was costing her. By the looks of the other patrons, this was no cheap deal.

"There's our table just ahead," she said, pointing across. Shinji followed her finger to where she indicated. He gave a mild start upon seeing who was already seated there, patiently waiting all on her own. She was clad in a long, flowing blue satin dress with translucent sleeves.

"She looks pretty good, eh," she winked, noting his reaction. "I had to borrow one of Maya's old gowns, but it turned out alright."

Rei looked up as the two of them joined her.

"Hi there, I hope you didn't order ahead of us," Misato said cheerily by way of greeting.

"No, I didn't," she answered, completely serious.

Shinji was seated across from her, with Misato at one end of the large circular table.

"This is cosy," Misato enthused, picking up her empty wine glass. "What do you guys say to a little refreshment before they bring on the chow?"

"Um, are you sure that's O.K.," Shinji asked critically as she waved over the wine steward.

"God, it's not going to kill you," she sighed warily, giving him a suffering glance.

She settled on a bottle of red Inniskillin, which Shinji found rather tart tasting. Misato seemed to have no problem enjoying it, and as for Rei, her glass remained untouched.

"Have whatever you like," she told them when they received their menus. Folding open the leather bound cover, Shinji examined the contents, rather impressed by the selection. He couldn't help but notice the right hand column either, however.

"Anything," he asked, not sure Misato was aware of the consequences. Misato raised her eyebrows as she too took in the listed prices.

"Yes, well, do try to keep in mind your poor Captain's checkbook," she demurred, scratching the back of her head.

In the end he chose a western style steak and seafood platter. It was actually the best dinner he'd had in some time, certainly his first fancy meal in living memory. Looking at Misato, he wondered why she'd gone to this kind of trouble and expense on his behalf.

"Is that all you're going to have," she asked Rei, waving her chopsticks at her plate. "I don't know how you can live off that rabbit food, no wonder you're so thin."

Rei gave a slight shrug. "This is all I want," she replied simply. Shinji looked across the table at her, noticing the way the candlelight reflected off her unusual red eyes.

"Suit yourself," Misato said, making a bored face. "At least it's cheap. Well, cheaper..."

There wasn't a great deal of conversation during the meal, which came as no surprise to Misato. She did her best to hold up her end, but she saw Shinji every day as it was, and Rei was, well, Rei. However, a marvelous opportunity presented itself while they were mulling over the dessert menu.

"Ah," Misato exclaimed, reclining a pointed finger back towards the dais. "You know what that means."

Shinji looked over to where the small ensemble of classical musicians were preparing themselves. A number of couples had drifted over, taking positions on the cleared dance floor. He turned back to her with a blank look of incomprehension.

"Do I have to spell it out for you," she pressed, waggling her eyebrows.

"Come along, Pilot Ikari," Rei said, rising from the table.

"Oh. Right," he stammered, getting up to follow her.

As they stood before each other, Shinji nervously glanced around, and realized he'd never done this before. Imitating the others, he took one of her hands in his, and placed the other on her waist. He hoped his palms weren't sweating as much as he thought they were. This was the first time he'd touched her like this since that time he'd gone to her apartment. She was coming out of the shower, and somehow they'd fallen on top of each other...

No, this probably wasn't the best time to be remembering that particular incident. Instead he looked down as they began their steps, working out a sort of swaying rhythm that, while it didn't exactly fit the music, ensured they wouldn't keep stepping on each other's feet. He noticed how she wasn't wearing any jewelery, or any perfume for that matter. It wouldn't really be fitting if she had, he supposed. It was just the way she was.

He became aware that they were attracting some covert attention from the others nearby. He wondered if it was because they were the youngest people on the dance floor, or because of Rei's physical appearance. By now he'd come to think nothing of her albinism, but those who knew her less would invariably stare in a terribly rude way. Rei never said anything about it, though; she was obviously used to that kind of reaction.

"It's funny, isn't it," he remarked awkwardly.

"What is that?"

"I mean, about how we always keep getting pushed together," he said. "Whether it's Misato, or Kensuke and Toji, or just... circumstance, I guess."

"And what about you?"

She stared unblinkingly up into his eyes.

"Me," he repeated, his smile cracking. "I'm, uh, not really sure."

She lowered her head again. Shinji knew right away this was probably the wrong thing to say. But he could think of nothing else, because it was the honest truth.

"So, what do you plan to do once this whole thing is over with," he asked, hoping to re-engage the conversation.

"Over?"

"You know, the war and everything."

She looked up at him, a slight frown on her face. "Why do you believe it will be over?"

Shinji gaped at her, momentarily at a loss for words.

"But, it has to, doesn't it," he argued, a trace of desperation in his voice. "If you don't believe it will end, then what's the point of going on?"

"Yes."

A cold chill ran over him. He looked down at her with unabashed awe, but her expression was as inscrutable as ever. Was this what HeChul meant? What she was supposed to understand?

"The song is over, Pilot Ikari," she said, pushing herself away from him. She didn't wait as she returned to their table. Shinji followed a couple of steps behind, his thoughts a muddy cloud.

"Oh, back already," Misato remarked as they re-took their seats. "After only one dance? Boy, I've never seen bigger sticks in the mud."

The three figures walked with quiet authority through the restaurant, creating a soft murmur of attention as they entered. They wasted little time in finding their intended target.

"Ritsuko," Misato started in surprise, dropping the small dessert menu.

In contrast to her surroundings, she was dressed in the plain blue uniform of NERV's technical staff. Flanking her were operatives from the Security Division; what Misato often referred to jokingly as the 'men in black'.

"Rei, would you please allow these men to escort you home now," she said with subtle firmness.

"Yes, ma'am," she acknowledged, rising from the table. Shinji watched her leave, noting how she never even bothered to look back.

"Shinji, why don't you go to the bathroom to freshen up or something," Ritsuko suggested. "Give us about five minutes."

"Oh, er, alright," he agreed, wandering uncertainly away from the table.

Misato glared icily as Ritsuko sat herself down at the free seat.

"Well, this is nice," she observed, taking in the scene with a polite nod. She took up Rei's glass of wine, sniffing it in a professional manner. "Real alcohol?"

"Like you were never allowed a little on special occasions," Misato replied hotly. "I can't believe you broke up our party because of that!"

"Actually, I wasn't," Ritsuko said, replacing the glass. "But you're right, that isn't why I came."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

Misato sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "I'm just taking my men out for a nice dinner. They missed out on their school formal because of that nut with the gun, so I thought I'd make it up to them."

"It was my understanding that Ayanami wasn't going to attend that event," Ritsuko pointed out, laying her hands flat on the tabletop in a formal posture.

"What, so I wasn't going to invite her? If she didn't want to come, she could have said 'no'."

"She would have disobeyed you?"

Misato stared at her in confusion and annoyance.

"I didn't order her, I asked!"

"You think she can tell the difference?"

Misato put a hand to her temple, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What have you done to that kid," she wondered aloud.

Ritsuko chose to ignore that little comment, and instead pressed ahead with her own point. "You have to understand your relationship to these children. You're not their friend, or their parent; you're their superior officer."

"Hey, don't tell me my job," she hissed, jabbing an angry finger. "I know more about how the army works than you know about your computer bullshit. You can't treat your men like mere tools, or as some means to an end."

"I'm not questioning your motives," Ritsuko said calmly, trying to mollify her. "I sympathize, really. But you must know there are going to be more pilots, and there's every chance that not all of them will make it through this."

"There's every chance that none of us will make it through," Misato countered. "All the more reason to try and give them as normal a life as possible."

Ritsuko exhaled in momentary surrender. She propped her head in one hand, looking sideways at her compatriot.

"So, what happens when the Second Child arrives?"

"You have to ask," Misato said, smiling slyly.

"God, all of you in that dinky little apartment," she marvelled, shaking her head.

"Just call me 'den-mother Katsuragi'."

"Indeed." Ritsuko decided to take a sip of wine after all, wincing a bit at the taste. "You know, I didn't come down here simply to rain on your parade. These pilots are our most valuable resource, next to the Evas themselves, so you can see why we might be concerned about how they're handled."

"You don't trust me?"

Ritsuko waved a placating hand.

"It's not like that," she said, not sure exactly how to explain it without being negative. "Let's just say we all have a vested interest. It can't become a personal matter. I was afraid, knowing your own childhood, you might be trying to use and Shinji and Rei to make up for that loss."

Misato frowned, but found she couldn't entirely deny the charge.

"None of this is being done strictly for your benefit, Misato," Ritsuko explained frankly. "You can't take it upon yourself to right every wrong, not when there's so much at stake."

Misato appeared to mull this over, absently picking at her fingernail while she stared into the candle flame. They'd come a long way from college to be having this sort of conversation. Not for the first time did she long for the simpler, more casual days of their youth.

Shinji approached the table with a certain amount of trepidation, but a smile from Ritsuko put him at ease.

"Come on, sit down," she encouraged, "I believe we were all about to order dessert, right?"

"Great, another mouth to feed," Misato muttered petulantly.

"Don't worry, I'm picking up the bill."

Misato broke out into a broad grin. "And to think I passed up that lobster platter..."

* * *

David sat in the terminal foyer, constantly glancing up at the Arrival/Departure monitor. He turned his ticket packet over in his hands, frowning to himself. Within the hour he would be gone from Tokyo-3 for good, everything as planned.

It had been a whole week, but he'd only seen her once since that first evening. He couldn't put down why, but he didn't feel comfortable about leaving like this. Well, he was uncomfortable about a whole lot of things, but this did stick in his mind; more than it should have if he was being professional.

She was part of the establishment he was sent to undermine. He knew nothing he'd done would affect her personally, but, without her knowing it, they were on opposite sides of the fence. It was one more deception, on top of all the others, but it did cause him a pang of guilt. No, not just guilt.

He thought again about her dark, wide eyes and round elfin face. She was, in many ways, the most ordinary, yet most captivating woman he'd ever met.

He knew how nonsensical, even hypocritical, this sort of thinking was, given his job. But, the thought was there, nevertheless. He sighed grimly, glancing over his shoulder at the bank of pay phones mounted on the wall. He reached into his jacket pocket and extracted the slip of paper with her number on it.

There wasn't much time, not if he was going to get away clean. And a simple call wouldn't suffice. The next available flight wouldn't be until tomorrow, which would only put him even further at risk. He checked his watch, looked up at the overhead screen, then back at the pay phones.

* * *

"Ech, that's hot," Maya complained, replacing the cup of herbal tea back on it's saucer. She patted at her injured lip, smiling at her own stupidity. "I guess blowing on it first doesn't always help."

David smiled in sympathy, stirring his own large mug of dark coffee. The cafe was an out of the way establishment, some distance from the downtown core, catering to the more suburban crowd. The wide bay window that fronted the building let in the sunshine, giving the entire place a friendly, open atmosphere. The mid afternoon clientele were primarily other couples, each enjoying their own private conversations.

"I'm glad you could see me," he told her honestly.

"Yeah, it was sheer luck, really," she said, weaving her thin fingers around the teacup. "I'm working underground so often now, I'm barely at home anymore. You have no idea what that does to one's social life."

"I can guess," he smirked.

They said nothing for a little while, Maya tilting her head to the side as she glanced out the window.

"You know, the sad thing is, I only brought you down here to say goodbye," David admitted, his expression serious. She nodded in subtle acknowledgment.

"I thought that might be it," she said, meeting his unsteady gaze. "It wasn't as if it could end any other way; what with you living in America, and the war still on. It was a bit silly of me to get involved in the first place."

She noticed how his face seemed to fall.

"Sorry, I just assumed it didn't mean that much to you either," she explained self-consciously. "Don't you have those sort of one night stands all the time?"

"I suppose I can't deny that," he said, laying the spoon with unnecessary care beside his mug. "It's not something I can easily explain, even to myself, but it feels different this time."

Maya found herself reaching for his hand.

"I had no idea. I guess it's not impossible, I mean, we can always find a way to work it out, I suppose..."

David shook his head.

"That's just it though. I can never return to Tokyo-3, not if I value my life."

Maya frowned, retracting her hand.

"What do you mean? Have you done something?"

David lowered his eyes to his coffee.

"In a way. I'm afraid if you knew the truth, you'd lose what little feeling you have for me already."

Maya felt herself getting inexplicably angry, peering at him with stern eyes.

"Then, what the hell was the point of..."

She was interrupted by the shrill electronic chirping of her cell phone. Reaching into her purse, she folded open the small device and answered, "Hello, Ibuki here..."

Her face froze as she listened, and was silent for the entire duration of the call. Closing the phone, she looked at David with a profoundly haunted expression.

"I've been told to tell you not to make any sudden movements," she said with calm deliberation, her gaze hunting his face for some kind of explanation. "You will be picked up shortly, and it would be wise if you didn't cause a scene."

David took a long sip from his cup, taking in the news with a sort of numb acceptance. He couldn't bring himself to say anything more to Maya. In retrospect, he wished he'd at least said, 'I'm sorry', but hindsight is always 20-20. He wouldn't have much time to regret it in any event.

* * *

The cell was entirely dark, save the luminous red glow from the NERV logo that was mounted on one wall. He sat on the edge of the small bed, his head bowed to his knees. Time was virtually impossible to determine in this black isolation, but he guessed it was over an hour before the door slid open again.

He blinked against the sudden glare, at first unable to tell the identity of the two men who stood rigid in the doorway.

"David Fleming," Ikari greeted him flatly, arms held stiff to his sides.

He took a deep breath, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Who sent you," Ikari asked, his glasses reflecting back the light. "The U.S. government? SEELE? Angel sympathizers?"

"Angel sympathizers," David laughed, looking up at his jailors. "Now that's an interesting idea. I suppose if some fundamentalist organization were to get wind of what was really happening here, that could be a problem for you guys."

No one saw fit to expand on the point.

"Can I ask you something," he said to Ikari in all seriousness. "Did anyone die?"

"You aren't entitled to know," Ikari sniffed, the door closing shut without any further interrogation.

Ikari and Fuyutsuki stalked back down the hallway. The older man could feel the tension that Ikari was barely able to contain. This was, without doubt, a very personal matter for him. But was it just wounded pride, or something else?

"I don't suppose we'll ever know for sure," Fuyutsuki said quietly, referring to David's still unknown origin. "Do you think there will be others?"

"Yes," Ikari stated with no uncertainty. Fuyutsuki sighed in resignation.

"There's no other way of dealing with him, I take it," he said with subtle disapproval, nodding back towards the cell.

"The message must be sent," the Commander said firmly, no trace of emotion in his voice. "Besides, I'm all out of favours."

* * *

Maya bit her lip, finally gathering the courage to enter the Security Division foyer. She was still in uniform, this being the lunch break of her regular work shift, but had taken the time to do this instead. She didn't feel comfortable leaving things as they were; not with so much still in the air, so much left unsaid.

The young man smiled politely as she came up to the front desk.

"Hello, I was hoping you could help me," she said, masking her trepidation. "I'm looking for someone who was brought in yesterday."

The man nodded, taking the computer mouse in hand. "Do you have their name?"

"David Fleming."

He spent a few brief moments clicking and typing, before finally shaking his head.

"Sorry. There's no one being held here by that name."

"O.K. Thanks anyway," she sighed, turning to leave.

"Ms. Ibuki," the man called out. "I think it would be best if you discontinue your inquires into this matter."

She stared back at him coldly, lips pressed tight together. But she understood the inference. Reluctantly withdrawing, she left the office and dutifully returned to her job at Central Dogma.

THE END