Picking Up The Pieces
The room was fairly large and would been dismissed as a typical Victorian study, lavished with the usual healthy dose of aristocratic extravagance, if it wasn't for one tiny little detail. It was utterly and completely covered in ice. As impossible as it seemed, in a surreal vision of glittering white, jagged icicles hung precariously from the lips of exquisite 18th Century carved cabinets, while pale spreading frost warred against the vibrant colours of a Persian carpet for dominance of the floor. It was as if a fairy tale enchantment had been cast upon the room, or a demented Snow Witch with delusions of being an interior decorator had been let loose on the place.
Icy vapours curled through the air and lingered like lost haunting spirits seeking refuge from the unnatural chill. Of course, the real reason it was so cold had nothing to do with evil spells or crazed witches. The truth was far less whimsical. Unseen behind the walls, specially created pipe like machines regulated the extremely low temperature and faithfully prevented the other occupants of the room, ringing the shelves, from falling prey to the decay of time. That was the point of this artificially created winter. It was really all for them.
Not that they cared.
Unimpressed, they just adorned the snow-dusted walls of the vast study, their glassy eyes gazing in an eternal expression of bared fangs and claws; and horns and hooves, and fins and scales and fur. The unfortunate residents of a delightful post-Second Impact ark of extinct specimens, forever cryogenically frozen in their own special little slice of death.
Which was fine as far as the brooding grey haired Cyclops sitting in the middle of the room was concerned. Personally, he enjoyed the atmosphere in this strange museum of sorts. That was why he had it made. It was both an eccentric collector's masterpiece and also somewhere to go to relax and drink expensive schnapps. Today though, he felt like doing something slightly different.
With the crisp velvet curtains firmly closed over non-existent windows, the light of a projector screen was the only source of illumination in the place. Like the guttering flames of a phantom fire, it seemed to bring an illusion of life and warmth. However, this would make little difference to the watcher nursing his drink. He barely felt the cold. It was a minor miracle that he could feel anything at all these days. The man better known as Keel Lorenz or quite simply 'The Chairman' had sacrificed much to preserve his own body…Such as it was. Still, as the vapours emitting from his lips attested to, he wryly noted that at least he was still breathing and that his "condition" was not without certain advantages… Nothing human could stand being in this room for very long, which was exactly how he liked it. It made this the ideal place to simmer in blissful solitude. Dead men told no tales and the same applied to dead frozen animals. The Chairman was in the perfect company to share old and terrible secrets. Besides, given the circumstances, he was feeling a little nostalgic. He felt like indulging himself and this forbidden film now playing on the screen never failed to move him.
The stars were beautiful…Despite the clumsy panning of the camera, the view of the heavens was still breath taking. The flickering of the projector only seemed to enhance their unique shimmering quality.
…so beautiful…
As a young boy, Keel remembered that he had taken to climbing the trees that lined his family estate. This had been quite a challenge as they certainly were not saplings. But he persevered. Soon enough, only the towering oaks would do and only at night under a clear twilight sky. Thinking back, it was amazing that he hadn't broken his fool neck, but at the time, as far as his child-self was concerned, it had been worth the risk. It had brought him closer to the stars. This was important because with all the innocent faith a lonely five-year-old boy could muster, Keel had believed with all his heart, that if he could reach high enough and if he could scale the tallest tree, then maybe, just maybe, he might have been able to touch one. Perhaps even hold one like a firefly cupped in his hands. As trite and clichéd as it may have sounded, that was all he had wanted to do. Nothing else mattered. Even then, at such a tender age, he was very set in his ways.
Now, as a much older man, Keel literally held the whole world in his liver spotted hands. These days, the Powerful Elite danced and dangled from unending puppet strings, while the armies of Mankind marched under his ever-guiding shadow. But even so, despite his supreme dominance, the leader of SEELE was not satisfied. He would never be satisfied. Not when he still turned to the siren song of the twilight sky. However, it was not fireflies that he had in mind. His reasons were far from the child like wonder of those early years. There wasn't an innocent bone left in his body. Now he sought the stars with a nameless hunger that burned through him and branded his soul. Keel had no illusions that he was damned. That was why he still reached for the heavens. They, at least, offered him salvation.
The old man narrowed his eyes behind the visor attached to his face and focused on the screen. The camera finished its panoramic sweep around the star shot blanket of space and settled on a familiar green blue view of the Earth. There had no doubt been a gasp of awe from the cameraman at this majestic sight, but the sound for the recording was lost. Not that it mattered. Keel had been present in the control centre on the day and remembered most of the details. The silence seemed fitting for Man's first and only Apollo 11 Landing of the Moon. The real landing, not that carefully constructed theatre play they had later spoon-fed to the media. One small step for Man, indeed…Only SEELE could appreciate just how significant those tentative opening steps truly were. After all, it was they who specifically orchestrated the whole event. After thousands of years, the sacred Covenant of the Soul had at last crossed the Unattainable Sea. Now they could fulfil the secret promise of the ancient scenario and bring forth eternal enlightenment. Keel recalled the excited tremor he experienced as the spacecraft successfully touched-down. Unknown to all but a chosen few, this was not to have been just a simple exploration of a floating dead rock. It had also been a mission to seek out the Key that would begin it all. A Key that according to the Dead Sea scrolls could only have been found on the moon.
The Chairman absentmindedly sipped from his glass of schnapps, savouring the taste of sweet cloying peaches as he witnessed the Astronauts painfully slow progress towards their fated destiny. One filmed the other with the mounted helmet cameras, sometimes waving encouragingly or pausing to sift grey dirt through bulky glove encased fingers. These two men, whose identity now escaped him, had been chosen as shining examples of Mankind's ultimate achievement. When they got back, they were to be celebrated heroes, whose names would pass into the Halls of Legends. Or so they had been promised. What SEELE had NASA fail to tell them was that they were not going to be coming back and that no one would even know they had ever been away. The ignorance of expendables was indeed bliss.
Now these 'expendables' were carefully moving across the rocky terrain, surveying every minute disturbance they made. They were looking for what they had been trained to look for. Unfortunately, it was something no one had actually seen before. Undaunted, SEELE had instructed them to search for anything unusual. Which had been a long shot considering what they were standing on. Still, there had at least been a little guidance provided by the scrolls that mentioned an 'Adam's Rib', so 'unusual' also meant to keep an eye out for anything bone like or rib shaped. The lips of the watching Cyclops curled in slight amusement. The so-called rib was not quite what they or SEELE had expected.
After a certain amount of pottering about, the investigating Astronauts on the screen suddenly stumbled to a halt and seemed to gesture at something in the distance with animated intensity. The camera view briefly zoomed in on what they saw, momentarily losing its focus and becoming blurry. As the image refocused, the reason for their excitement became clear. There, in the middle of a small crater, no more than perhaps 1,000 yards or so away, stood a very large, very long, very red twin pointed spear. Or to be more precise, as one of the amazed men once whispered, there was a Devil's Pitchfork on the moon. Adam's Rib looked nothing like a rib, not that anyone cared. Keel felt the same tingle of anticipation he had felt all those years ago when he had first set eyes on the spear at the control centre. It was one thing to read about the Myth, but to see it in the flesh was a different thing entirely. It opened new and terrible doors to other dangerous realms of thought. Many men had been driven mad for less. However, for the men of SEELE, it served to bring them closer to their unshakable belief in the ancient scenario. And Keel was no exception. At that moment, like a giant metaphysical 'click', all the pieces seemed to fit. It was as if through out the ever turning infinite passage of time and space, that the spear, Adam's Rib, the Key of Keys, had been waiting just for them, these nameless men, to come and reach out…and set the forces in motion, as preordained. It all seemed to prove that everything was bound to the script the scrolls had written. From the highest shadowy unseen leader of SEELE to the lowest of the insignificant faceless masses, like the unwitting players of some merciless cosmic theatre piece, all were committed to the fate of their individual roles. Just like the Astronaut, currently reaching out to touch the long spear before him, was quickly going to learn.
The Chairman leaned forward without really having the need to. His visor ensured he had the perfect ability to watch the screen, so there was nothing wrong with his eyesight. He only did this for the sake of morbid curiosity. That and the fact he was finally getting to the good part. If the spear had seemed big from a distance, then it practically towered over the two men as they moved closer. Its huge mass swallowed them in its shadow and also allowed the viewer the luxury of studying the fine detail of the staff that seemed to twist in a sculpted replica of a DNA strand. Of course, a closer examination of this strange discovery was going to be needed. Humans could never keep their hands to themselves for long, especially when they were awe struck and struggling to comprehend some great phenomena before them. However, as soon as one of the Astronaut's questing fingers touched the spear, everything changed.
There was a distinct and unexpected shimmer that rippled through the strange red metal and made the explorer draw back his hand in surprise. It was like the spear had burned him. Surprise turned to puzzled shock, as the part the Astronaut had touched refused to leave his fingers and stretched before his eyes with all the stubborn nature of warm taffy. Just as the ramifications for this disturbing event could be considered, the viewpoint of the Astronaut abruptly lurched forward with a sudden savage snap towards the spear. For a few dizzy seconds everything whirled in a confusing blur, until the camera slammed hard and filled the screen with red. Then it burst into static. It was at this point that the Astronaut began to scream.
Although there was no sound for this recording, Keel remembered the scream of this Astronaut quite well. He would remember it for the rest of his days. Not that he was squeamish. As the leader of a most ruthless organisation, he was no stranger to the screams of grown men. Sometimes he was even the cause of it. The Chairman understood the scale and pitch the human vocal cords could achieve when given the right 'incentive' quite well. He was even a connoisseur of sorts. But this was different. The melody and discordant rapture of human suffering paled in comparison to what this Astronaut's throat was emitting. It was…unique. Keel recalled how the raw symphony had echoed through the control centre and left every man and woman who had heard it, with a pallid sickened expression. Keel included. It was not screaming…it was beyond screaming. The visual contact was never retrieved for the Astronaut, which may have been the only merciful relief that day, if the communication operators had not managed to maintain the second link for his comrade and his camera. Keel watched as the screen switched to the viewpoint of the other man, who had wisely kept his distance and now stood in stunned horror filming the sight before him.
The Astronaut had no head. Or to be more precise, his entire helmet was inside the spear, as if he had decided to dunk his head into the strange soft metal. His hands were gone as well. In fact most of his body had been sucked deep into the thick liquid that moved like the coils of a snake all over its prey. The stuff was alive. Now it flowed against gravity and wrapped itself around the rest of the screaming man in an embrace as suffocating as a stricken insect trapped in crimson amber. With a sense of mesmerised wonder, Keel watched as the rest of the white space suit slowly, piece by piece, disappeared into the living pool of red until there was nothing left. Not even his screams.
The spear had eaten the Astronaut.
As crazy as that seemed, there was simply no other way to describe it. The spear had eaten the Astronaut and there wasn't a damn thing his companion could do about it. Except perhaps try not to puke. And maybe start running as fast and far as he could possibly get, which much to the Chairman's initial surprise, he actually began to do.
The view spun away from the spear as the camera turned, but just the terrified man took his first giant leap for survival, the ground began to shake under his feet. Unprepared for this, the force of the tremor succeeded in both throwing the hapless Astronaut off balance and smashing his helmet against the sharp rocky ground. This marked the moment where he possibly lost conscious and all his audio communications. Only his camera remained and it offered no answers to what had befallen him. Perhaps by some stroke of very bad luck, the unbreakable clear visor had cracked open, releasing his precious oxygen into the airless atmosphere of the moon. Perhaps he had snapped his neck and now couldn't move, trapped and as good as dead. It really didn't matter to SEELE. At least the camera was still working. There was another burst of static, some flickering and then the distorted broken image focused once more. Conveniently, the Astronaut's limp body had rolled to a slightly slanted, yet better filming angle. Which, thankfully, recorded the reason for the sudden quake.
Slowly and well beyond all sense of logic, the spear was moving. Inch by inch it was dislodging itself from the surface of the moon, as if some vast being was gripping the staff and carefully drawing it out, parting it from the crumbling rock like a twisted alien Excalibur. Through the damaged lens of the shuddering camera, Keel witnessed the long spear continue to climb until the two prongs, almost as long as the stall itself, hung suspended in mid air above the ground. For a few eternal seconds it stayed like that, just hanging there, as it seemed to linger and regard the tiny inferior human crushed below it. Then, as if answering some silent call, it swiftly glided upwards in a graceful arc towards the stars and out of view.
Despite all their wonderful state of the art instruments, SEELE could not trace the spear as it disappeared into space. It was invisible to any and all methods of detection. The only clue that it was actually falling back towards Earth was when one of their satellites registered an impact, then promptly ceased to exist. Of course the scrolls had told them that this is what the spear would do. The blood of the Astronaut, the offering, had contained enough traces of the original maker to trigger the release. Man was after all, the wayward son of Adam. Now with the genetic activation, it sought to return to the source. The Key would lead SEELE to the Gate, just as the Dead Sea Scrolls predicted.
The film on the projector finished and the light of the screen switched off, plunging the Chairman into darkness. However, it did not seem to hinder him as he effortlessly reached for a nearby decanter and refilled his empty glass. The alcohol was as deliciously chilled as it was a few hours ago and Keel settled down into his chair to brood about certain developments since the events of that movie.
It had taken many resources to find that spear, or as SEELE 06 insisted on calling it, the 'Lance of Longinus'. There had been many long years of sacrifice and preparation. After the Second Impact, the transformation of Gerhim to Nerv, the creation of the Soul Gate, the trauma of the Children, the success of Unit 01 and the victories of the Angel War, it had seemed all was going according to the scenario, as it should be. SEELE were so sure nothing could go wrong. They could not fail. Not when they were following the ancient scriptures by the letter. Not after all this time and effort.
Keel sighed deeply, releasing a misty trail of vapours into the icy darkness.
But they had made a grave mistake. They had underestimated their brightest student, Ikari. She and her devoted husband, Gendo Rokobungi, had been their undoing.
Granted, it should not have come as a complete shock that things had gone somewhat awry. As the Angel War progressed, Gendo was rapidly proving to be very untrustworthy, trying to manipulate them so he could implement an agenda all of his own. The man had initially been unaware of Yui Ikari's sacrifice being a part of the plan and despite attempts to appease him with mere snip-its of a tantalising promise, it seemed that temptation had given way to outright betrayal. This became all too clear during the 15th Angel Attack when, against their expressed orders, Gendo used the Second Child instead of the more expendable First. Then, to add injury to insult, he commanded Unit 00 to take the Lance and use it against the Angel. After all the trouble and trauma it had taken to get the Lance of Longinus to them, Gendo in obvious defiance had taken it and cast the damn thing back into the Unattainable Sea. SEELE were not happy. Not happy at all. The man had to pay.
After a long and colourful discussion, the Covenant of the Soul decided to use the 17th Angel against him. Although a little too independent for their liking, they knew Tabris would not resist the call of 'Adam' and hopefully trigger Third Impact under the commander's feet. However, if he should fail, he was to take Nerv with him. Tabris was by far the most powerful of all the Angels. His core destruction would have obliterated any near the vicinity of his detonation. If SEELE could not have their Impact, then no one would.
But things did not quite go according to plan. Tabris failed but he had refused to commit the sin of senseless murder. SEELE should have seen that coming. They had rather spoiled the boy. Of course he wasn't going to blow them all up, the damn Angel loved humans. So Tabris decided to do something else. Something rather earth shattering. He gave the First Child the gift of human emotion. He gave her the power of Free Will. And then Gendo blew his brains out with his gun. Disappointingly, the Angel still refused to detonate his core and simply passed peacefully away in the grip of Unit 01's purple fist. Judging by the report, it was at this point that the commander, fearful of his only chance slipping away, attempted to trigger Third Impact.
After shooting Dr Akagi, who had tried to stop him and trapping his son with the power of Adam, it seemed nothing would be able to stand in his way. All was utterly lost. But then the First, full of human emotion, surprised him. With newfound defiance she refused to join with Adam and refused to begin Third Impact. By removing the Mask of SEELE from the great white giant, she destroyed the sacred contract of the prophecy. The result was no more Adam, no more Lilith and no more Yui, as what would have befallen Mankind was instead visited upon them. The ability to initiate the Human Instrumentality Project was without question effectively and permanently rendered void. Some time later, SEELE wondered if this was exactly what Tabris had intended when he had given away his little 'gift'. Perhaps Gendo was not the only one they had underestimated. It certainly would not have surprised Keel.
And now here they were, back to square one. Or so it seemed. Keel Lorenz allowed himself a small cold smile. He was a great believer in hedging his bets and had fortunately made preparations should Third Impact fail. He did not agree that all the prophecy fore told would come to pass as flawlessly as walking down one single road. Even the scrolls had hinted of other possibilities within the scenario and the rest of SEELE reluctantly agreed. Once he had let them vent a little, they were only too glad to listen to what he proposed.
Around two days ago, an impressive circle of monoliths hovered above the Chairman sitting calmly at his usual desk. Despite the old men of SEELE wanting to remain faceless as malevolent floating black tombstones, Keel could not help but imagine them staring with horrified open mouthed expressions of disbelief at the broken Mask of Lilith as it lay on the floor in several large pieces. Its seven eyes cracked and glaring accusingly up at them.
"This is UNACCEPTABLE!" roared the one called SEELE 08, his modified outraged voice rebounding through the walls of the dark meeting room chamber.
SEELE 10 and 07 agreed.
"We demand answers." stated SEELE 04 with a more measured tone.
"How can we fulfil the prophecy now?" demanded an upset SEELE 03. "This was NOT to be!"
SEELE 06 sighed in his usual passive way, "It seems our little Trojan horse has some what back fired rather severely..."
SEELE 12 snorted. "That's an understatement!" Apparently he felt too tired and irritable to be cryptic and mysterious.
"But it is true," countered SEELE 09, not understanding the sarcasm, " The 17th has defied us and undone us all."
" I never did trust the 17th…" muttered SEELE 12. "…Creepy little git."
" It matters not." Keel interjected and all the monoliths fell silent. " Tabris was a mistake and now what is done is done. The
tools of Third Impact are gone. But Eva still remains and with it our deliverance."
"That may be so," agreed SEELE 02 after a pause, " But what of the Soul Gate? Unit 01 has lost its soul. It is useless now."
"True." said Keel." However, there are other souls and other Units."
"Ah yes," SEELE 06 whispered. " The spare…"
"The MP Evas?" asked SEELE 03, a little confused.
"No. He speaks of the Vaterliebe Project." SEELE 02 explained, and then directed his attention to Keel. "I am unsure this would be a wise course of action. That tool is damaged."
"Yes," agreed Keel, "But not beyond repair. Recent reports have indicated that the conditioning still holds. The Angel did not penetrate the core. The Vaterliebe Key and Gate status can still be yet achieved. Which, as I am sure you are no doubt aware, is now our most pressing concern, Two."
The man behind the monolith of SEELE 02 decided not to reply. Certainly he could counter that this particular cure was just as deadly as the ailment, and would have strongly justified his many reservations against the Vaterliebe Project. But it was obvious that Keel had already made up his mind about this, especially when he was being addressed by his numerical designation in that tone. There would be no point in arguing for now, so he would play nice and bide his time like always.
If nothing else, SEELE 02 was very, very good at the waiting game.
"Then, if we turn to Vaterliebe, does that mean we turn also to the possibility of the Rapture?" inquired SEELE 04 actually sounding quite eager.
"Yes," confirmed Keel, "The ceremony of the Red Moon is our next step under these circumstances. That is what Vaterliebe was created for."
"Hmmm…Then I am sure the good Doctor will be delighted to hear that." SEELE 06 replied with a hint of amusement. "After all, Instrumentality hindered her progress."
"Then we will begin the necessary arrangements." Keel stated, and pitched his voice to the rest of the monoliths. "My fellow devoted Servants of the Soul, although this is indeed a dark time for us all, we are not as hobbled as we may think. Granted the Third Impact is lost to us now, but it will not remain so. The means of another trial will soon be upon us. The failure of Third Impact has set forces beyond our control in motion. As the scrolls fore warned, Mankind will once more undergo yet another Judgement from the Stars."
"Then it is true?" blurted SEELE 07, "More of them will come?"
"Yes." Keel growled, unhappy about the interruption, "That is the consequence of a broken prophecy and the new path to our success. Although we have been given a reprieve, the Balance must be addressed and so Mankind must be ready. Through Eva and Vaterliebe we will create a new Key and a new Gate. We shall not fail in this endeavour. If we cannot have Instrumentality, then we shall embrace the Rapture. Ultimately, the scenario will NOT be denied."
Although there were mutters of approval from all sides, the Chairman sensed that not every one was convinced. But if they had any doubts, they kept it to themselves.
"Then we must be prepared." SEELE 05 stated, obviously a believer. "This time, we shall ensure the UN will take the correct steps to protect our interest. We shall tighten our leash on Nerv until they choke."
All the monoliths agreed.
"Yes," said SEELE 11, "We shall choose our allies with more care. We hold all the pieces now. Everything will go according to OUR schedule and not by the manipulations of a traitor."
All the monoliths knew exactly who he was talking about and was glad he was suffering.
"Then it is agreed," Keel announced, "This is not an end or indeed a beginning, it is a crossing. We are SEELE. We are the Seekers and Servants of the Soul. We have endured for millennia and we will endure forever more. Our path is set. So be it."
"So be it." The rest chanted. Then with a sense of growing anticipation beating in their black empty hearts, the men behind the monoliths faded out and were gone.
Now Keel sat in his dark icy kingdom and drank his schnapps. According to a brief glance at his watch he had a few hours left before the next meeting. This would be the beginning of the 'recruitment' phase. He was looking forward to it, but he still had a little time to indulge himself. With the switch of a button the screen light flickered back on and the projector began to run the film again. Keel sat back with his drink, then with a little after thought, raised his glass in a mock toast towards the stars on the screen.
"To other Impacts." he whispered and settled down to enjoy the show.
Author's Mad Ramblings - *phew* I don't know about you but I'm shattered. This is my first fan ficcy and I think I've just about killed me muse…
* holds tiny limp plump fairy by her teensy-weensy ragged wings and starts vigorously shaking her * Come on you…you're supposed to inspire me! Inspire me, damn it! Inspi-
* the wings rip off the fairy and she drops like a cute little stone, until she hits the ground with a sickening bone like crunch*
Um…oops…
Er…Anyway…I'm gonna go find a mop or something…Please feel free to drop a review while I'm away. My poor dead squished muse would thank you. ^-^;
*Ewwww*…I've got fairy guts on my shoe….