Chapter 2: Meetings
The factory's owner smiled as the sounds of the massive industrial complex washed over him. As far as he could see, the production lines worked with the same cold, ruthless efficiency as the machines they were producing. At least, that's what the factory's owner hoped- but that was not his problem.
"Good afternoon, dear brother!" a voice said from behind the overseer, who turned around, fixing his violet eyes on the speaker. "I tried finding you at your manse, but your mother said I would find you here."
"Technically, I'm merely your ex-brother, Your Highness," Lelouch Lamperouge replied, bowing grandly as he welcomed the visitor.
"Oh come now Lelouch, we both know you're both too intelligent and too refined for such petty semantics," Clovis Le Gallia-Britannia said, laughing. "Abdicated or not, you're still my brother, or half-brother as the case may be. That being said, I understand your reluctance to acknowledge our bloodline."
"Death threats would do that to you, Clovis," Lelouch said quietly. "If I was the only target, I wouldn't have minded," Lelouch began, and Clovis could see that he meant every word. "But my mother... Nanally..."
"I understand completely, Lelouch," Clovis said quietly. "I know others called it cowardice, but I, for one, see it as perfectly sensible if you didn't want to see if the threats were true. Thank God we never had to find out."
Lelouch gave his half-brother a slight grin. "And thank God you're now second in line for the throne, eh?"
Clovis snorted. "Officially, maybe. In reality? All anyone has to do is pay attention to the 'le Gallia' in my name. Being born in Area 2 doesn't make me any more acceptable to any possible contenders to the throne than your mother's common birth would. No offence."
"None taken," Lelouch said easily. "Look on the bright side- at least you won't have to worry about any death threats- or worse, assassination attempts."
"Ha, that's true!" Clovis said. "Actually, I see candidacy for the throne as a whole lot more trouble than it's worth; all your situation has done is confirm it for me."
Lelouch turned away, his gaze back on the Frames rolling off the production lines, before continuing quietly, "And to tell the truth, so do I; even if my way were clear, I wouldn't want the throne anyway."
"Oh? Why not, brother?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Lelouch asked, his gaze no longer on the Frames, but somewhere far, far beyond them. "The Imperial Throne is only gold on the outside; within, the wood has rotted. It has lost its meaning and any claim to real respect as far as I'm concerned."
"What are you talking about, Lelouch?" Clovis asked, genuinely shocked. "We control all of Europa and half the nations around the Mediterranean! The only rivals for our power is the UASR and the Asian Prosperity Sphere-"
"And for all of that, both they and proud Britannia are nothing more than Mulian puppet-states," Lelouch said, before grinning a smile as bitter as his tone. "Upon what meat doth dine the Lemurians, that they grow so great?"
Clovis grinned. "That's from Shakespeare's Boudicca, isn't it? The scene where she defeats the, the- oh, damn! What's the name for the ancient Area 3s again?"
"Romans," Lelouch reminded him. "And yes, that's the scene I'm talking about. Sadly, she had more balls than many Britannians today," Lelouch said, his voice containing barely contained emotion, before continuing, "including myself, I'm ashamed to admit."
Clovis looked at his brother silently for a moment, then placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Forgive me, dear brother," he said, when Lelouch gave him a surprised look, "but I think we should all be thankful for that fact."
"What do you mean?"
Clovis gestured to the hundreds of Knightmare Frames rolling off the assembly lines. "Hearing that kind of talk from a major Knightmare Frame producer- well, it would be easy for one to jump to conclusions, wouldn't it?"
Lelouch gave his brother a derisive grin. "Here's another quote for you, Clovis: 'God is on the side of those with the biggest cannon'. General Napoleon Le Gallia, on his conquest of Muscovy- but then again, he'd never seen the power of a Dolem in action, had he? Thousands of Frames are no match for a single Dolem, Clovis, you know that."
"I do," Clovis said. "I simply wondered whether you did. Forgive me if I caused offence, dear brother."
He turned back to Clovis. "No, you didn't. But back to business. After all, I'm sure you didn't come here to make small talk, correct?"
Clovis nodded, all business now. "It's about these new Solstice-class Knightmare Frames- they're the ones with improved all-terrain capabilities, correct? We need Frames with such capabilities to suppress unrest in Area 8, especially around the Urals…"
(scene change)
Lelouch watched his half-brother leave the factory from his office window, and sighed. It's a good thing you're not contending for the throne, coward, Lelouch thought bitterly. Britannia would fall mere days after we put the crown on your empty head.
Lelouch's forwn turned into a bitter smirk. I wonder, dear brother- would you have offered me the same condolences had you known I was the one who ordered the death threats and assassination attempts?
It wasn't that Lelouch lacked the courage to fight back against Mulian domination as he had insinuated- but that others lacked it. They were content, too content, to sit back and let the Mulians do their thinking for them, and Lelouch wasn't stupid enough to think that determination alone would solve anything.
'God is on the side of the biggest battalions,' Napoleon had said, but nobody seemed to see that in this case, the battalions needed to break Mulian dominance would have to be made not from the refined alloys of the Knightmare Frames, but flesh-and-blood humans, ready and willing to fight for their rightful independence.
Lelouch burned as he remembered his nation's history; how the Mulians had 'defended' the independence of lesser nations and stunted the growth of Britannia's empire in its early years. How the Mulians had similarly fostered a peaceful Socialist revolution in the Americas while boosting the economic powers of Asian countries. They shared their advanced technologies, and in doing so, directed the scientific efforts of the nations they shared them with.
In short, they ensured a time of stability and peace- or at least that's what the Mulian-authored history books said.
But what did all of that really accomplish? A worldwide state of stagnation; nations were afraid to do anything but fight small skirmishes here and there for fear of greater retribution. An American 'nation' stretching from pole to pole, yet still gripped in economic backwardness and corruption. An Asian collective dictatorship masquerading as a democratic coalition of many countries. Stability? Peace? From where Lelouch was standing, it seemed more like stagnation, pure and simple.
His musings stopped as his eyes fell upon the picture on his table, a small photograph of him and his family; his mother holding him and Nunally as children.
He remembered his early years, spent with him and his sister listening to their mother tell stories of the glories of old Britannia before the Mulians stepped in to ensure 'peace', but unlike him, they had accepted that their nation's glories had long since past. Perhaps it was his mother's common upbringing that made her so accepting, but try as he might, Lelouch himself could not bring himself to hate them as he did Clovis, and he was honest enough to admit to himself it was probably only because they were family.
He sighed and went back to work. Try as he might, he knew that whatever he wanted, nothing would ever really change. Atlantis would remain the capital of Lemuria and Lemuria would remain the capital of the world. One man- no, one boy did not have the power to change it.
Or at least, that's what he wanted people to think. Lelouch grinned as he saw a green light flash into life on his phone.
"Good morning," he said when he heard the speaker on the other end. "I suppose you have good news for me, Mr. Carpenter?"
(scene change)
The white car pulled up to the gates of the NERV base. The car itself seemed unremarkable; only a detailed examination would have revealed the subtly reinforced armour plating that formed its shell, and it would take a skilled metallurgist highly specialized instruments to see that the shell itself was composed of heat resistant ceramics and high-durability alloys capable of withstanding heavy antitank fire. Assuming they got that close, considering the hidden NERV operatives constantly shadowing the car in a variety of civilian guises.
Not that the passenger was aware of it.
"It's so quiet here," Suzaku Kururugi mused.
"What's the matter?" his driver asked cheerfully. "The silence getting to you?"
"Oh? No, no, Major Katsuragi, it's nothing like that- okay, kinda," Suzaku said ruefully. "It's just that when I was leaving Tokyo, there were military escorts everywhere, police all over the place, and don't get me started on the reporters!"
Misato grinned at him. "You miss the attention, eh? Who'da thunk?"
"What? No, that's not what I meant-"
Misato laughed, a clear, lilting sound that cut through the air. "Don't worry, Suzaku, I know what you mean. We're a peaceful little island, nothing more. Actually, your military escort's currently patrolling nearby," she said, seeing no harm in telling him half the truth as she indicated the distant forms of mecha flying in formation.
"I didn't know this place was that secure," Suzaku marveled.
"Oh, it is," Misato assured him as a man in a gardener's uniform walked past, whistling a merry tune with a hoe held across his shoulder. It was a good cover; Misato would have fallen for it had she not known this man to have personally killed at least three people. He gave a small nod to Misato, who acknowledged it in kind. "Now," she said, turning back to Suzaku, "let's get you acquainted, shall we?"
Suzaku's eyes widened when he saw the massive complex that formed the above ground portion of the NERV headquarters, but it was only after he and Misato descended underground that his jaw dropped.
"It's... it's a city?" he gasped incredulously, peering out the lift's transparent walls.
"Not just a city, oh no, but I'm sure you'll find out a bit more about that later," Misato said, winking. "Peaceful though it may seem, Nirai-Kanai's still Lemuria's last line of defence before the island itself, and the Geofront's just part of it."
Suzaku nodded, his mind too filled with wonder to formulate a response until the elevator reached its destination.
"Oh, excuse us," a Vocalist said calmly as she and her 'sisters' stepped aside to make way for Misato and Suzaku, before stepping into the empty elevator in their turn.
"Who were they?" Suzaku asked curiously. "Other pilots?"
Misato hesitated a moment before answering him. "No, they're the Vocalists who'll attune you to your Eva."
"Vocalists? What are those?"
Misato's mouth creased in anxiety; she had read Suzaku's file, and what she was about to tell him was not something he would like. "Well, Suzaku, they're, um… clones."
Where Suzaku's mouth was open with wonder before, now it was agape with shock. "What? You mean- you mean they're grown?"
"I know," Misato replied with quiet grimness. "Normal mecha just need pilots handling a few controls, and Dolems need Mulians remote-controlling them, but EVAs, you see, need to interact more fully with human pilots. Don't ask me why, or how, I'm just an officer. Another thing is that most of their inner systems are regular Lemurian living stone- hence the need for Vocalists anyway."
"But- but that's horrible!" Suzaku gasped. "They're humans, aren't they? How could the EVAs be worth such a price?"
"Simply because they are," a voice calmly said from behind them.
Misato and Suzaku turned, the Major bowing deeply as she saw the speaker. "Dr. Ikari," she said reverently.
"Major," Gendo replied, nodding in return. "Leading our newest pilot to his quarters?"
"Yes, Dr. Ikari."
"Why don't you let me handle that, Major? I'm sure you have far more pressing matters to attend to."
"I-I guess," Misato stammered.
"Thank you, Major."
"Going!" Misato said with nervous cheer, taking the quiet dismissal in her stride as she ran off to the car park. Suzaku wondered if he was the only one who noticed the quick nod of assurance to him.
"You were saying that the EVAs are not worth the price we 'pay', for them, I understand?" Gendo asked, but although the words were calm, even kind and understanding, Suzaku couldn't help but feel the chill coming of the scientist.
Not that it was going to let it affect him. "With all due respect, Dr. Ikari, using human subjects-"
"What makes you think they're human?" Gendo interrupted, before motioning with his hand. "Come along. Arguments are a waste of time, in my opinion. We might as well spend that time actually getting somewhere, don't you think?"
"...never mind, Doctor," Suzaku replied courteously, though his fists were clenched. "You are my superior officer, it is not my place to argue."
Gendo nodded; undoubtedly the boy was going to make his own enquiries on the matter, from people far more eager to agree with his point of view than Gendo's. That was no problem, it was a perfectly human response, and besides, insofar as he was concerned; the boy would learn nothing more than what Gendo had allowed to leak out.
The EVAs were, after all his project, and his project alone- no matter what some blue-blooded fool in her high tower said.
(scene change)
"Aw man, will you look at that?" Meg sighed. A crowd composed mostly of young girls had gathered at the gates of the airport terminal, and a small knot of suit-clad bodyguards seemed powerless against the squealing horde. "Where are we gonna park?" Meg added exasperatedly.
"We won't have to," Jo deadpanned, as she pulled back on her control stick with one hand while pressing a few buttons on a side panel with the other. Shinji's stomach lurched as he felt Django transform into its humanoid form.
But while this may have turned heads on any other day, this was a special occasion. There were a few curious stares, of course, but most of the crowd's attention was focused on the sight ahead of them.
Shinji leaned back and sighed when the screams increased in volume. He didn't need to look outside to know that a young man, his hair as white and eyes as red as Jo's, had just stepped out of the terminal's doors with violin case in hand. It wasn't enough that he had been gifted with exceptional musical talent, he had to have been blessed with amazingly good looks as well. Normally Shinji wouldn't have complained, but now…
"Maybe we should rescue him," Shinji said, and Meg nodded.
"Maybe we should," she said, as Jo piloted Django towards the doors.