Chapter 7: Rei

Left kick—right kick—left kick—right kick…

Surface. Breathe. Dive.

Left kick—right kick—left kick—right kick…

Surface. Breathe….

Pilot Ikari's keystrokes echoed against the sea-green tiles immediately to his right. His brow furrowed. He sat in a chair—aluminum, hollow, its seat and back composed of plastic bands. Normally, it would belong on the beach. This may have been humor on Pilot Ikari's part.

On each side of me, plastic dividers bobbed in the water. All were restrained by the rope that threaded through them so that they could not leave their places. And neither did I.

Dive.

Left kick—right kick—left kick—right kick…

Circles reflected on the water's surface—one ahead of me, one behind. Lamps shone above us from steel beams in the ceiling. Or, rather, they shone on me, since Shinji did not wish to swim with me…

…A mistake. I should have said "Ikari" a moment ago.

A voice, nasal and slightly shrill, spoke. I surfaced.

Pilot Sohryu stood next to Pilot Ikari. She wore a bathing suit that showed him more of her figure than mine did—red and white, like the pool dividers. Sunglasses sat on her head, although the room was cold.

The room was also a room, and therefore indoors. And yet, there were the sunglasses…

Ikari complained of a particularly tricky problem. I could have answered it for him earlier, but I had not known about it because he had not asked me. Pilot Sohryu responded less positively than I would have, expressing her disbelief by rolling her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips and bent over Ikari's laptop, presumably to afford him a better view of her chest.

"That's giving you trouble?" she said. "I figured that stuff out when I was nine—"

"Are Britannian textbooks written obscurely?" I asked.

She half-turned in my direction, eyebrow raised.

"Uh…no, Wondergirl. They're not. And if you're trying to imply—"

"I imply nothing," I said. "I merely point out that if the textbook authors wrote clearly, then your pride in understanding them is unwarranted."

Her voice took a higher pitch. She laughed.

"What would a doll know about pride?" she said.

I swam to the edge of the pool. Interlaced patterns of light wobbled on the wall from the water, and tiles were slippery. This was not an undue hindrance, however.

"I know that you take pride in attainments that are not your own, Pilot Sohryu," I said. "Your beauty, your intelligence—these things are yours. You do not, however, value these things. Rather, you value things that are not your own: others' praise of your beauty. Others' appreciation for your education."

Pilot Sohryu crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her chin upward. Scorn.

"Tell me something, Wondergirl: Are you an idiot?"

I shrugged. The water sloshed around my shoulders.

"I merely decline to affect knowledge that I do not have," I replied.

This did not seem to mollify her. That, however, was hardly a cause for concern. Pilot Sohryu looked briefly at Shinji, who said nothing, and then stepped over to the side of the pool. Her feet slapped the watery tile.

"Why on earth would I take pride in being smart or pretty if other people didn't care?" she said.

"Why indeed? That is precisely my point."

Pilot Sohryu smirked. It was an expression of a superior to an inferior.

"You know something, Ayanami?" she said. "People used to tell me that I should live before I die. I didn't quite understand that phrase until I met you."

"Return," I replied.

"Huh?"

"'Return'," I said. "Not 'die'. We hold our souls by the grace of the Unmoved Mover, not our own efforts."

Pilot Sohryu scoffed.

"R-i-i-i-ght," she said. "And I supposed it'd be just fine with you if you 'returned' your soul to an Angel, huh?"

I leaned back, allowing my body to float until the water filled my ears and the sounds around me became mumbles. I became conscious of the contrast—one half of my body dry and warm, the other cold and wet. Then wet and dry merged. At the boundary, the water's surface tension gave it the feeling of a viscous coating that could be easily sloughed off.

"Since the soul is not mine to begin with, it does not concern me how the universe chooses to repossess it," I replied.

Pilot Sohryu pointed a finger at me. Her voice warbled through the water.

"You are weird," she said.

I did not reply.

"Well, children…I'm leaving," she said.

Roughly, she snatched a towel that she had laid on Shinji's table and slammed the door. I raised myself out of the water and toweled the drops off.

"Rei, that was a little insensitive," Shinji said.

Do not turn your thoughts to earning the praise of others, but bear everything with equanimity, as a philosopher might…Do not turn your thoughts—

"I wish you'd get along better with her," he said. "I mean, she's not as bad as all that…"

He looked at the ceiling, tapping his pencil on his lips as he spoke.

Do not turn your thoughts--

"The insult does not lie in my words, but in her opinion of my words," I replied. "If she did not consider them insulting, she would not—"

"Rei…"

Pilot Ikari's voice was strained. His hands clenched and unclenched in a gesture that indicated stress. It had been the first thing I had noticed about him, years ago. A nervous boy my age, with wide brown eyes.

"I…very well, Shin—Pilot Ikari. I will…get along better with her."

He sighed.

"Thanks, Rei."

"You are welcome."

His laptop clicked shut. I watched him as he followed Sohryu out. Water dripped from my hair.

An empty room.


The meeting had been over for a long time. I stood in the dark after the other pilots had left. My feet rested on one of two white strips which bordered the floor's projection of the Eighth Angel, which was curled up, embryonic. The screen gave off light that was brown inside darker brown—the first from the embryo's surroundings, the second from its yolk. Its spinal cord resembled the serrated teeth of a steak knife.

"Commander," I said.

His face was illuminated, while the sides and back of his head remained in shadow.

"Yes?" he said.

I thought about the girl, her orange hair browned by the darkness a moment ago. Commander Ikari had chosen her. When she had teased me about her new assignment, her bangs had shaded her eyes like a raccoon's. This had not been particularly attractive.

"I wish to go on the mission instead of Pilot Sohryu," I said.

The Commander's expression did not change.

"Too dangerous," he said.

"As you have told me, Commander: I am a ship's passenger on the shore waiting to be called back," I said. "I pass my death daily before my eyes, imagining…"

A small smile appeared on his lips.

"That will do," he said.

"Yes, Commander," I said.

He crossed his hands behind his back and turned away from me. White gloves bobbed up and down.

"I'll say one thing for you, Pilot Ayanami," he said. "You know your duty. I do not intend to sacrifice you for two reasons. First, your EVA cannot use diving equipment."

"I could use Unit One, Commander."

Commander Ikari's head turned quickly, meeting my eyes. He scowled.

"No," he said. "You may not."

I bowed my head.

"I apologize."

The seconds clicked by….

"Very well," he said. "And the second reason is simpler: Asuka is Lelouch's pawn. She is therefore highly expendable."

"Commander, I am also—"

"Dismissed, Pilot Ayanami."


Lava bubbled below us.

"Isn't Lelouch here?" Pilot Sohryu whined.

A moment later, a voice on the communication system assured her that Prince Lelouch was indeed there—and ready to give advice when necessary. This touched off a round of bickering between Prince Lelouch and Operations Director Misato about jurisdiction.

Not an auspicious beginning.

Bombers screamed through the sky. If we failed, FLEIJAs would rain down on the Angel until the area became a crater. In all likelihood, this would destroy us as well.

Pilot Ikari's face appeared on my screen.

"Figures that my father would order something like that…" he muttered.

"Duties are measured by your relationship to others," I replied. "Your duties to Commander Ikari are as a son to a father, not as a son to an affectionate father."

Pilot Ikari rested his elbows on his thighs and his head on his palms.

"Sometimes I just don't get you, Rei."

Despite the lack of humor in the situation, the sides of my mouth twitched.

"That is obvious enough, Pilot Ikari…"

The crane's machinery cranked Pilot Sohryu into the magma. She performed a split with her EVA which, thanks to the puffy magma suit, did not appear overly graceful.

Rate of descent: steady

Visibility: zero

Maya calmly kept us informed of Sohryu's progress.

Depth was four hundred.

Depth was four hundred and fifty.

Depth was five hundred.

Depth was five hundred and fifty.

Depth was six hundred.

Depth was six hundred and fifty.

At one thousand, Pilot Sohryu's armor plinked and groaned as the pressure mounted. At thirteen hundred, Sohryu's screen showed only a red haze. Lelouch argued with Misato in the background. She wanted to continue; he was concerned for Pilot Sohryu's safety.

…And doubtless the EVA as well.

A crack appeared on the second coolant pipe. Sweat dripped down Sohryu's forehead. A splink sounded like breaking glass.

"Eva Unit Two has lost its progressive knife…"

Depth was sixteen hundred.

Depth was seventeen hundred and eighty. The Pilot had reached the required depth.

Transparent shields closed around the egg. The black sphere dwarfed the EVA, even with the latter's suit. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the crane engaged. Pilot Ikari asked Pilot Sohryu how she was doing, and received Sohryu's assurances that she wished for nothing more than to take a cold shower when she emerged from the volcano.

A klaxon sounded.

An angel roared.

The embryo's silhouette warped and remolded into something with tentacles. Moments later, the cage shattered. A dark mass of teeth, claws, and wing-like limbs the size of skyscrapers shrieked toward Pilot Sohryu. She dodged, barely. The form disappeared into the lava again like something in the mist.

The EVA's fingers clinked together. They were grabbing for a progressive knife that wasn't there. And Pilot Sohryu was still attached to the restraints.

"Dropping the knife!" Pilot Ikari shouted.

The Angel emerged from the magma.

Its mouth gaped. The thing had no jaw—just a circular opening with hair-like antennae growing out of its rim. It sucked the EVA's head into its body just as the knife dropped. The knife stabbed, and bounced off.

"It's hardened itself!"

I heard another voice over our speakers. A face appeared to match it: admirably calm. Purple eyes.

"Asuka?"

"Prince Lelouch!?! How do I—"

"Jam your coolant tube into it. Thermal expansion will follow, at which point—"

"Scheiss! Of course!"

Pilot Sohryu thrust the tube into the Angel's mouth. It screamed, and at the same time the progressive knife plunged deep. Sparks flew—though in a volcano, this seemed odd.

"Die!"

And it did. Its arms melted away from its core and dissolved into black bits that floated away.

I exhaled, and told myself that it was not relief.


GIkari: Your sons are getting suspicious.

H.R.M. CdiB: What of it?

GIkari: Schneizel knows about the Scrolls. How long before he figures out that we're intercepting his communications?

H.R.M. CdiB: The Nevada MAGI are supposedly secure. He will not become alarmed unless you seriously blunder. Have your MAGI write something back and stop bothering me.

GIkari: And you're sure about the MAGI technicians in NERV Nevada?

H.R.M. CdiB: They rerouted his message to Melchior, didn't they? I told you: they're loyal.

GIkari: For now, perhaps…

H.R.M. CdiB: "Now" is all we need, Mr. Ikari.