Tumbling Down
part1
o
o
o
o
o
o
TOKYO3 (AP) - A devastating sequence of attacks by Evangelion-class
machines leaves Neo Tokyo-3 crippled. Twelve units identified as the
'Mass Production' series assaulted NERV for purposes still unknown. The
MP Evas were turned back by concentrated effort from Eva Units 00, 01,
the Trident LD "Magnos Tancred", and the Kaworu Nagisa's 'Tridens
Dominatus'. The leader of the Earth's Cradle, whose forces were still
holding Europe at the time, helped to defeat a monstrous combination
of 12 MP Evangelions. Quickly afterwards, Nagisa attacked NERV's forces
and put down Eva Unit Zero and 'Magnos Tancred'. Unit 01 and the
'Dominatus' battled for 47 minutes, and despite wild applications of the
AT-field Unit 01 was defeated. Nagisa was forced to retreat by the
arrival of an unknown female teenager with Angel powers.
The battles have been confirmed to coincide with Eva Unit 03's assault on
the Earth's Cradle. All Evangelion-class assets in Tokyo-3 require week of
repair. With no Anti-Angel effective defense available, Tokyo-3 and the UN
has declared a total emergency lockdown of the city. Sohryu and Unit 02,
having successfully defeated the Earth's Cradle in Europe, have yet to
make their way back.
Gendo Ikari was reported to have abandoned his post just prior to the
attack and remains missing. A full inquiry has been called for NERV's in the
attack. The UN has expressed extreme desire to know the source of twelve
Evangelions with the S2 Engine, and the link between Shinji Ikari and the
unknown teenagegirl with the reportedly strongest AT-field ever detected.
o
o
o
o
The Shadow Moon hung in nothingness, in the boundary between illusion and reality. It contained the last functional Angel core and an S2 Engine to match. The Angel known as Leliel, able to live as a mathematical concept, lent the Moon the ability to survive out of phase with the universe. The Shadow Moon was larger on the inside than the outside, and did not need to spin just to give its occupants the comforting illusion of gravity. This was a place where the laws as men knew them no longer applied.
All inside this broken piece of the Cradle were linked to each other through the Hive-mind gestalt, intuitively knowing how each person's talents were needed, and what new freedoms they could experience. Many slept, in dreaming rewarded for their that moved to repair and and awaken new powers of the Shadow Moon were just waiting for the inevitable moment of their return. As long as they lived, they were not defeated.
The Gestalt thought like a human still, in thousands of discordant voices. Failure shame hatred regret fear blame blame blame surged through the tides of opinion. United in goals, but each convinced of the rightness of their calculation; it would be like individual processors in a massive array picking and choosing which to calculate. But there was a core of purpose there, that soared.
I AM EGRET.
White wings flapped and tall legs picked through a placid pool.
LADER, DER ADLER, WAS A REFLECTION OF OUR PRIDE. WE SOARED TOO QUICKLY AND TOO HIGH AND LIKE ICARUS WE FELL.
A sense of vengeful glee surged through the communal consciousness.
LET US STAND TALL EVEN AMONG THE MUCK.
A slim young teenage girl walked upon the surface of the waters towards the white bird picking at the shallow waters.
THERE ARE THOSE WHO WOULD LIKE US TO REJECT NAGISA'S AUTHORITY.
Sarah Campbell nodded. "But without Nagisa, we would not have become as we are."
GRATITUDE IS FINE. BUT NAGISA IS STILL FLESH AND A LITTLE SOMETHING ELSE. HIS PLANS PROVE THAT HE ISN'T REALLY THAT SMART, NOT AS MUCH AS ALL OF US.
The bird looked towards a cage hanging in a tree by the shore. A wounded eagle shrieked from within the bronze bars.
The girl smirked. "The ones who failed have the loudest voice."
At the water's edge, a brown puppy yapped angrily. She took out a dog biscuit and tossed it over her shoulder. The treat landed neaby the puppy. That only inreased its puppy rage. It yapped even louder, then after a while skipped to eat the treat. Its tail wagged happily. Then back to angry yapping.
"The Queen may be supreme in the Hive, but also its greatest servant. We're not bound by biological limits anymore, but do we still understand... honor?"
WE UNDERSTAND HATE.
"Do we deserve our freedom?"
WE DESIRE VENGEANCE.
"Will we allow ourselves to be that vulnerable again?"
KICK THE BASTARD'S TEETH IN.
And thus Sarah's attention returned to her physical body. Kaworu Nagisa was showing Gendo Ikari around the Shadow Moon, the very core of what had once been the Earth's Cradle. It was a perfectly usable Space Seed.
Kaworu wanted to get angry, but felt drained of all emotions and all strength. The problem with having perfect recall was knowing where he'd done everything right and yet it all still went so horribly wrong. It was as if the universe could not allow him any victory, and that just made no sense. The universe was too big, too loud, it could not be anything but impersonal. Even Shinji Ikari, or Gendo Ikari, should not have the power to affect that. He'd tried so hard, and now he was completely exhausted.
"As you can see, our cloning facilities are more than up to the task." Kaworu said with a nonchalant smile. He couldn't change his physical form, but he could adapt. He'd trained himself to be good at that. "You have your wife's soul. We can prepare a vessel no problem." His AT-field was compacted so much the air crackled with his every gesture.
She wanted to tell him; you are not alone.
The Hivemind was a gestalt of incomparable intelligence. While LADER did all the obvious schemes to garner attention, the rest realized that in sharing his cells with them all Nagisa was forcibly making himself an extended family. Because of the Angel Cells, their Unity was bound by their new master, but they sought to unravel no mysteries from him.
Nagisa looked up challengingly. His expression conveyed 'See how hollow your victory is'.
Gendo Ikari stared down at the red marble in his left hand then at the gray-haired boy. He smirked. "As always, Nagisa. You are just too damn predictable." The former commander of NERV crushed the extracted Core between his fingers.
Despite himself, Kaworu dropped to his knees to pick up the fragments. "What? What for did you...?"
"The problem with you, Nagisa, is that you keep on doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result."
Kaworu grit his teeth. Impossible. Gendo Ikari would not throw away Yui Ikari just like that. Unless...
"How many more permutations of Ikari would torment me?" he hissed. He pressed his fists into the floor, for he was sure that he'd lunge out for the throat like some mindless animal if he let himself. Then, in a lower tone of voice, he added "I figured it out at last. You've done all of this before, haven't you, you bastard?"
=][=
=][=
Schloss Friedenstein was the centerpiece of the town of Gotha. The town in itself was a charming place, with few buildings taller than five stories. That charm was now scarred by the effort of trying to make the picturesque streets even slightly defensible, and the sheer nightmare of trying to repel attacks that ignored the limits of the flesh and the machine.
Jonathan Thresh whistled as the convoy approached the old fortress. "You boys really held on for hours in this?"
Beside him was Colonel Schaft, still the commanding officer of the Gotha special exclusion zone. His decision to take the offer of surrender was deemed the most logical course of action in a very bad situation; it was just that there were other things going on that he did not know about. He had plenty of sense, but just not enough faith. "A horrible defensive position, but the soldiers managed. Without the help of the Psykana, it would have been impossible." he had to admit.
The Prime Minister nodded. "I was rescued by them, you know." It was why he'd arrived well ahead of the rest of EUROSOC.
Schaft sighed. "It's still better if we don't need them at all."
He got a heavy grunt as an answer. Whole populations were gone, towns erased as if they had never existed, and Thresh was not the only one to lose family to the Cradle's temptations. To defeat the Earth's Cradle so quickly, so decisively, it didn't seem enough. The root of the problem managed to escape. It didn't seem fair. Someone had to pay. Someone had to take the blame, to suffer and eat the pain of those left behind.
Sohryu was a hero, of course. Jonathan Thresh was amused that they weren't already calling her Kaiserin. A new Diet was hastily being assembled. People clung to the very last vestiges of their normal lives, the delusion of living in a world where gods did not walk.
The German liason looked far too relaxed for someone whose entire military was superseded by one girl.
"What's Langley-Sohryu like?" the Prime Minister asked.
"The girl eats lightning and spits out volcanoes. She can kick you in the face three times before you can blink and her growl makes tigers lose their stripes." the officer replied with a sniff. "What the hell do you think?"
Thresh laughed. "I heard that at least Sohryu is more even-tempered than Ikari." he added idly.
A short while later they both burst out laughing.
In much the same way that nuclear isotopes had even, predictable rates of decay unless triggered. A fifteen-year old teenage girl. The most difficult thing would be to somehow NOT do or say something that would piss her off.
He looked beyond the curve of the hill to Gotha's rail yards, directly south of the castle Friedenstein. Without the threat of the Cradle, most of the civilians trapped in the haphazardly-emplaced refugee camp had returned to their homes. The rails were the lifeline to the rest of Europe, and now a constant influx of men and materiel conspired to further ruin the picturesque nature of the scenery.
Although, he had to admit, in some ways it still reminded him of a theme park of some sort. Scorched dragon bones and mechanical dinosaurs littered the grounds, and there were literal pyramids formed out of broken tanks. And, of course, there was the obvious touch of the unreal, that weird shadow.
He turned looked beyond that old fortress. Not that it would really make much difference. The hulking shape of Luftschloss Sturmbrand loomed in the farmlands to the east. Like a wounded whale, the tepellin lay on its side, scrap metal from all over Europe were being collected to repair its hull. Parts of Chinese transport ships were being fed into a smelter. The exotic AT-field techniques to rush-construct Sturmbrand in the first place could not be repeated. First, because Unit 02's S2 Engine had the all-important task of recharging the capacitors. Second, because Yamagishi lacked the fine control of the AT-field the task required. It would come with practice, but mistakes would waste too much time.
=][=
Inside, a certain red-haired girl had that as her enemy. Time. Not fissile materials; those were good friends, loyal tools. "Three days are unaceptable! Do you have any idea how stupidly vulnerable Tokyo-3 is right now? I've got the only functional Evangelion in the whole damn planet-..."
"Um... Unit Four exists..." Mayumi Yamagishi said from the other side of the room. She was, of course, ignored.
" - and the more you delay, the more we risk human extinction! Are you sure you want that on your conscience?" Asuka finished, slamming her palms down on the table for emphasis. She had since changed into civilian clothes, and had since been using Castle Freidenstein as NERV's makeshift European Command Center. The dining room had many LCD screens and projects obscuring the richly-decorated walls.
It was all so incredibly crass. Asuka so far was excusing herself that they wouldn't be doing it for too long.
NERV did set up a bivoac nearby Castle Sturmbrand, however the people of Gotha just wouldn't accept Sohryu sleeping in some dingy tent or cold berth. Asuka wasn't stupid. Sleep in the rooms of royalty or refuse it out of some affectation of egalitarianism? Hell with that. She would allow herself to be pampered.
'This isn't worth it.' she affirmed to herself, clenching her fists. Nagisa was still out there, and this was no goddamn vacation. "Whatever the hell it takes! NERV can just pay it back later. That is, if there's still a planet with banks in it!"
Donald Thompson shrank from Asuka's tirade. However, 2nd Lt. Raizo Tomoki, the Nia Teppelin's Chief Engineer, was an old NNHIS hand and was well experienced in dealing with unrealistic expectations. "With all due respect, Sohryu-san, there just isn't any way to get the frame rebuilt any faster. Evangelion 'flight' is much faster
than any form of conventional flight, but you know it takes more energy than just what the S2 Engine provides."
"And Europe's already giving you nine hours out of every day off the power grid." Donald added.
"Even if you ask for all the power in Europe, there's only so much the capacitors can take at any one time. We've already hit the limit." Raizo Tomoki concluded.
Asuka groaned and collapsed back onto the plush chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the flight paths on the screens. The left side of the room showed among a bank of monitors a slowly spinning globe, while a projector on the other side showed a flat world map. Both had two lines; one blue, one green. The blue line showed their progress from Tokyo-3, through the Pacific, stopping briefly at NERV Boston, then onwards towards Europe. The green line showed a direct route from Germany to the Japan overland through Asia.
"So, that's it? No matter which route we take, we just can't lift off without a full charge?"
"We lost thirty percent of our power capacity." said Tomoki. "Nothing less than a careful eye on power reserves will suffice for the overland route. There is safety in taking the ocean route, we can recharge again using NERV America's Base, but it makes no difference."
Asuka scowled further. Going from Japan to Germany the first time was done in just over two days. It was a good thing the sheer feeling of speed and godlike power distorted perceptions of time, or it would have been too boring to keep up an AT-field for hours on end. Exhausting, too.
Castle Sturmbrand was basically big hollow tube. It was bouyant. When tired, Asuka could rest for a while, the tepellin bobbing along the ocean and sailing along with its jets. Now they had two Evangelions to trade off the AT-field used for propulsion, but any mistake through the overland route would slam them right into the Taklamakan or the Himalayas. And then Asuka would have to goddamn WALK the rest of the way because no one else Castle Sturmbrand could survive that.
Asuke pouted. Okay, maybe Hamagishi, but her battery power would last for maybe a day or two even with a power tether between the Evas. It would take her weeks to get back.
"And the overland route?"
"A little under nine hours."
"So either we set off NOW, and it's going to take a couple of days just to get back to Tokyo Three, or I wait three days and try to sprint back in one uninterrupted flight." Shit. Of course Nagisa put priority to taking out Evangelion-carrier aircraft.
"Hai." If they run low in mid-flight, they'd have to land and try to recharge off her S2 Engine anyway, which too would take up even more valuable time.
She put her forehead on the table. "Okay. If there's no avoiding it. Get the hell out." She was a pilot. She had no idea what the hell it'd take to put the dumpy craft back together again, and had to trust their estimates.
The two engineers saluted and left. Asuka looked up dully. "So, what's next?"
Mayumi Hamagishi adjusted her glasses and glanced at the schedule. With most of the heavy hauling done, there was surprisingly little left for the pilot of a god-machine
to do, other than try to keep out of the way. "You have a meeting with the European Security Committee in fifteen minutes, ma'am."
Asuka groaned piteously. And "I already told you- we're colleagues! Don't call me that!"
"Um... okay. Sorry. Asuka." Acting as a secretary got her out from underfoot, soothed her feelings of redundance and allowed her to soak up Sohryu's raw confidence. It was also starting to become clear that a large part of Sohryu's dominating vibe through social situations was the irritation from having to go through them in the first place.
"Damn, that's eerie. Are you sure you're not related to Ikari?" Asuka licked her lips. "You're so damn meek I'm seriously worried if you're not going to Hulk Out and start smashing us all."
"Uh... I don't think you need to worry about that." She just wished she could be so free and disdainful of the consequences. Fortunately, she had a clear example of where being too careless about the awesome may lead. It was better to stand aside than be saddled with bureaucracy.
Of course, if she really really didn't care about what may happen, just like the other pilots, she supposed she could just YAMAGISHI SMASH! through it anyway. She looked thoughtful.
Oh, who was she kidding; she sighed to herself. She couldn't rebuild herself to a person who cared for nothing but the thrill of battle so easily.
=][=
=][=
Meanwhile, back at Tokyo Three, it was once again time for Recovery and Damage Assessment Phase. Repairs alone for the Evangelion could bankrupt a small country, and the mission kill of two Evangelions, one Trident Land Dreadnought, and the DA1-0H assault frame could bite out a large chunk even out of the World Bank. In one day, NERV racked up enough collateral damage to eat allocations for the next eight months.
More critical than the damage to the site and machinery was the status of the pilots. All of them were hospitalized. To little surprise, Mana Kirishima was the first to wake up. Her injuries were to her body.
It was a very somber assembly that met for her debriefing. Emotionless, she reported her perspective of the recent battle. Statements such as 'We grappled with the enemy and reduced their mission effectiveness by greviously damaging enemy control structures' served to recount smashing MP Evangelion heads together into a pulpy mass while shouting 'TANCRED SYMMETRICAL SMAAASH!'.
Once finished, she asked, in a very tiny voice "Sir, may I ask... how are repairs going to the Land Dreadnought?"
Colonel Nasuno and Shiro Tokita glanced at each other and winced. Their looks dueled as to who should answer first. In the end, the NNHIS chief had to say "... Tancred took damage straight to the Fusion reactor. The arms have to be replaced on the whole. But the core... we can't repair that sort of damage."
"Why not?"
"We're not NERV, Kirishima-san. Our budget isn't even a quarter of theirs, and a lot of that is made up by how NERV buys its conventional weapons systems from UN channels. With the Evas out of commission, they have much stronger priority in terms of funding and materials." He shook his head sadly. "We might even have to scrap Tancred's armor just to quickly replace the Evangelions' armor."
"But..." Mana bit her lip. She was tough; she shouted silently. She would not cry. "I... we... Tancred can fight even without armor. Tancred can run on batteries the same way Evangelion do...!"
"I'm sorry, Kirishima."
"... please."
Tokita hmm'ed. "There is something... wait, no. Great Tancred as it is, is done for. The Land Dreadnought will be scrapped for components to quickly rebuild the Evangelions. We're grateful for all your efforts, but only something with an AT-field can protect Tokyo-3. We've come this far with the knowledge we're just here for support. This is just another way we can fulfill our obligation."
"Understood, sir. We serve in every way we're able." Mana saluted, and reached for her hat. She put it over her head, tipping the brim down to cover her face, and said nothing further.
-][-
Later, Shiro Tokita and Kensuke Aida looked down at a large, tarp-covered form inside the NNHIS main hangar. "This is tremendously unfair to Kirishima."
The operations chief shook his head sadly. "She can't defend this city without a a burning heart."
"Preferably one with a sustained output of 200 megawatts, say?"
Both sighed sadly. Too bad, but with the world as it was, the possibility of being granted even more power was moving farther out to shore. The UN might consider funding if they were to turn against NERV, maybe, but loyalty cut both ways. Now it seemed this was a flower that would never bloom.
=][=
=][=
Yang was a teacher. Whatever his former reputation, it would be very very bad if he were caught with a schoolgirl in his bed. It was midnight and there was one in his bed, straddling him. She was fully clothed, he was in his pajamas, and there was a blanket between them. That just made it all the more frightening.
"We meet at last, Yang-sensei." the girl said with a thin smile. "It's odd, Ikari-kun trusts you above even his own biological father. Not that it's hard to understand... but we're not stupid enough to believe you're doing this out of pure altruism."
Yang took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. If there was anything that living in Tokyo-3 taught him, it was a healthy respect for the lethality of what seemed to be young teenage girls. Dammit Japan. "Pleased to meet you too. Why are you here?"
The girl's eyes blazed red and unconsciously she touched the bridge of her nose. "I thought it was about time we -talked-."
=][=
=][=
Wing Ye was seventeen years old. Like many of those in the People's Army, he had dim memories of Impact. Older soldiers and officers could speak of the horrors of starvation or the savagery of the scattered People's Army. The degenerate, vicious hordes that preyed upon the people they were supposed to protect, and then cold, almost inhuman tide that swept all resistance before it. Training was roughly the same, the equipment identical. There was only one difference between the two pieces of the fragmented old Army.
Yang Wen-li. The man who dared win land battles as an Admiral by sailing Destroyers up the flooding Yangtze and tempting enemies into range. Nothing but a tide, a merciless tsunami, could describe his walk through China. Chairman Mao had the 'Long March', Yang had his 'Great Wave'. Wing Ye deeply envied those who were old enough to live through living history.
Wing Ye remembered his father, being brought to the town center on charges of hoarding. At the time the penalty was public execution. It was the 2006, and Yang's first year as Chairman, and he was moving through China retracing his steps backwards to check the switch from imposed military rule to more self-contained civilian governance. It was just luck that Yang was passing through the village at the time.
"A man's life is not worth a sack of rice." Yang said. Wing Ye had expected to see a giant, or someone unmistakably heroic, but Yang reminded most people of a sleepy Jackie Chan. Completely unimpressive. His voice was soft in intonation, as if he was chatting with old school friends in a noodle house. "Every person of age has consumed many sacks of rice. With just the strength of the arms, one can till the ground or carry water to let grow many more than that. A man has the power to give back to the nation far more than the life granted as a gift under Heaven."
There were six accused. Four were to be taken to break new ground at the frontier instead; not all that bad a fate. It was good government work, while they themselves would never rise beyond mere farmers, their children would go to free government schools and have a better chance at life. The two who were executed were the merchants behind the scheme.
China opened up to capitalism, China industrialized rapidly; at cost of pollution and worker safety. China thrived in taking risks. Chairman Yang stepped down and retreated into obscurity.
People remembered the basic nature of his policies though: no matter what those in power might think is good for the nation, you DO NOT fuck with the food supply. That was the shortcut to making Yang angry.
Wing Ye was a sergeant in the 316th Mobile Artillery. He was raised in a government house, ate government food, studied under a state-sponsored school. As the tanks rolled down the One Korean highway, he supposed his life wasn't too bad. He could have turned out just another wife-beating drunkard. Maybe. Maybe not. A soldier had to use his strength to serve the people, for among the professions under Heaven it was war that kept on consuming, rather than producing.
In the dim orange interior lights he saw that the other young soldiers were likewise too keyed-up to try and sleep, the uncomfortable seats and bumpy suspension of their ride aside. Yang hated -waste-. He had done good for China. Almost everyone from peasant to corporate patriarch remembered Yang's reign with fondness. It was a simpler time, back then.
The young soldier did not know enough English to read western publications, though under Yang's China they were more openly available. Had he read TIME Magazine's Person of the Year edition though, he would have agreed whole-heartedly with the commentary. Yang's China was more -efficient- than before. It was nowhere even near a democracy. Yang was good -for- China, but his lack of the obvious vices aside, even he did not consider himself a good person. Or even -nice- most of the time. Only as a teacher, freed from responsibility, could he have turned into the ludicrously tolerant and lazy figure that lounged around Tokyo-3.
Yang had called. Young Wing Ye's excitement was echoed by the upper echelons of the People's Armed Forces. Was it true? Had he decided to return to his true self? Even the crustiest old general felt near giggling like a schooboy. Undefeated of the East, Master of Asia. Officially it was independent action of the People's Council, but if Yang suggested nothing less than overwhelming power, then there had to be good reason for it.
=][=
=][=
That was the thing that struck people about Tokyo-3. It was too quiet. The noise of industrial and military vehicles, repairs and new infrastructure, these filled the air, and yet - the air was still, and people even in the safety of their homes clad themselves in tangible silence.
It was not defeat. There was no need for propaganda to sugar-coat the situation, since every breath they made was proof enough. Survival was the only measure. They thought they'd grown used to it, laughing at how others from out-of-town saw their willingness to stay as sheer suicidal madness.
It was close. It was damn close. The people kept paying for it in whatever means they could. No one raised any protest, but from the shopkeeper to the soldier, the same look tended to flash across their faces.
'What can we do? What's going to happen to us now?'
Gendo Ikari had skedaddled off to join the Cradle. The Evangelion pilots were still unconscious. Most of the hard anti-Angel defenses were slagged. NERV was gutted thoroughly, and the worldwide political situation...
Just thinking about it could make Yang wince. Tokyo-2 and the Diet tried to bluster their way through the media, but it was quite clear they had no idea what to do either. No one did.
He laughed. "The JSSDF has a snowball's chance in hell of trying to take over NERV's mandate. Nor, Colonel, I must say," he turned towards Cerberus Base's commander. "...do they have any right to order us to do -anything-. UNIG is here for oversight and support, we can't replace NERV in terms of fighting against Angels and existential threats."
Colonel Nasuno still looked grim. Yang turned away from the sight of NNHIS under sunset. Floodlights were switching on with hard snaps, ready to turn the night into day, for NNHIS service crews worked 24/7. The conventional military served little more than a speedbump against alien intrusion, but engineers were literally the very lifeblood of the Fortress City.
"That's not what you wanted to ask though, is it?" the former admiral asked.
The two were walking towards the main gate, obligated to attend a political dinner at a sumptous Kyoto-2 hotel. "The Japanese government can't order us to in... but this is the best time to take control of NERV, isn't it?"
As before, it mattered little which one. "Not UNIG, no, but then we're only one regiment." Yang smiled thinly. "A three-headed beast- Japanese infantry, Russian and Chinese armor, and American air and navy support." He searched for the Big Dipper in the sky. "Let me ask you the question instead: do you feel that it's treason to stand against the military of your own country?"
The soldier grimaced. "Dammit, Yang. Look at it from my point of view. I didn't ask for this! What would you do?"
"It's a question of loyalty, isn't it? Only you can answer that."
"My men... even if we fight, the rest of the JSSDF can just bury us under the weight of numbers. But Yang, it's no secret that your Army is massing hundreds of thousands of troops at the coastal ports. What are you planning?"
Yang grimaced. The price of his intervention in the Korean debacle was the use of several North Korean ports. Starving refugees had flooded into Manchuria, but that was more or less all right, since they needed the manpower anyway.
Then, in 2004, taking advantage of the international funding for Project E and the need to shift the massive amounts of metal and equipment necessary for Evangelion construction, Yang ordered the creation of a new fleet-handling facilities facing the Sea of Japan. This allowed for easier access to the rare earths needed for the layering of Evangelion plate, and to protect the balance of power among those sharing the Northern Resource Area. Such action could possible been treated as belligerent, but Yang had made clear that China respected the thousands of nukes that the Russia still had, and it was a more refined reflection of Vladivostok anyway.
Yang considered the end of mass starvations as his crowning glory during his period of martial law. Before he stepped down from power and back into obscurity, his was a well-motivated army backed by well-fed industrial base. Now almost a million men were gathered around Manchuria and Korea. Almost another million more were waiting near the Yellow Sea. More were moving. They were being drawn from as far as the Indian border.
And now, of course, the UN NAVY deployed to cover various 'possibilities'. Submarines were thick around the Sea of Japan. Boomers, nuclear ICBM-carrying submarines from all nations involved, barely even tried to hide themselves. Everything was pointed at Tokyo-3. Now though, assets had to redeploy to consider if they should halt the painfully obvious preparations for sea invasion.
Colonel Nasuno wondered when he'd grown comfortable enough to just call Yang Wen-li without any honorifics, as if he was just any old comrade. He felt vaguely protective, even. Yang, even at thirty-eight, looked like a magnet for bullies. It was no secret he was being pushed around by teenage girls.
This shoddy-looking man turned the PLA Navy from its second-rate reach with a modernization program harshly interrupted by Impact, into one that held responsibility for the Asian 'Grand Line'. This was the line of trade and communication extending from the Sea of Aden, past Sri Lanka, down through the Straits of Malacca, through the Gulf of , into the Sea of Japan, and out grazing Sakhalin. Only the UN NAVY itself could rival the PLA Navy on the whole (since Russia had to split its own forces between the North and East Seas and previous rival navies lacked the resources for rapid rebuilding), even if still with the conscious decision not to use carriers.
Yang was a devotee of missile saturation to overcome air patrol screens and antimissile defenses. So many foreign ships around and within range of the shore batteries - did he intend for this to happen? In one stroke, Admiral Yang could -end- any other claim for the oceans of the world for the forseeable future.
Only nuclear deterrence was standing in the way of that, maybe, but then every nuke not aimed at Tokyo-3 might be that last bit needed to break through a monster's AT-field. No one really knew just how strong AT-fields could get.
Yang in his mind saw the Pacific and little tiles representing fleets and submarines. The nations of the world were emptying their stocks, all heading to the Pacific, as if it was time for the final battle between good and evil.
He huffed. Now what the hell makes them think that? They're leaving themselves all defenseless, as if Tokyo-3 was some sort of hellmouth from which the dread host will spring. Nagisa already spanked them all for that imprudence.
"Don't rush me. You'd get shoddy miracles..."
"But this is messed up, Yang. We can't do it. We're not strong enough on our own. But if you fucking send your people over the gulf, it's war. You'll see there where my loyalty stands. No Chinese Army will ever set foot on the Home Islands."
"Hmm. If the writing on the wall is THAT obvious, doesn't this paint your own government in an unflattering light? So what do you want to do? Just stand here and die?"
"I don't know. I just..." He exhaled heavily. "This is really messed up. I shouldn't be waiting for a boy to make up my mind for me."
Yang nodded. It was actually fairly disturbing. He looked up again at the sky and pulled on his coat. The lights, no matter how bright, seemed bleaker somehow. The city was colder. Dull and lifeless. Even he felt sluggish and blandly disinterested in his own fate.
=][=
=][=
Misato Katsuragi had problems, but unfortunately Ritsuko Akagi, her primary problem-solver, was one of them. Privately she pulled aside Doctor Hiroshi Sakamoto, most prestigious brain surgeon from Kyoto-2.
"So? How's Ritsuko?"
The doctor winced. "This is totally unprecedented. There are superconductor bundles laced all the way into her prefrontal lobes. By all rights, she should be in a coma, if not crippled for life. In many ways, she still is... but the nerve signals that should go to her spine are instead transmitted to the exoframe she's wearing."
Misato nodded. Some idiots tried to get her to take it off. Maya Ibuki kneed them in the groin, one after the other. Only Misato, as NERV's de facto commander, had the authority to decide if Ritsuko Akagi was really fit enough to for duty. As NERV's own primary scientific director and the planet's only expert on xenogenetics, Ritsuko had gone ahead and declared herself still at her full capacities.
"The human brain is a delicate instrument!" Dr. Sakamoto insisted, laying his palms down on Misato's desk. "It's not meant to be messed with like that. At any moment, Akagi's lobes could fry itself. For god's sake, she's running DC straight into her own brain just to stimulate feedback! There are connections there that nature never intended or the product any research or testing! With all due respect, how could you trust the judgement of someone like that? Her condition... she should be resting and her brain structure studied, instead of being pushed into responsibility."
"If she says she can handle it, then I trust her."
The specialist looked in pain trying to keep himself from shouting out 'Are you an idiot? Didn't you just hear what I said?' He took a deep breath an adjusted his collar. 'Don't you understand? Her so-called 'cure' was an apotoxin designed to burn out cells faster than a mindworm could assimilate them! She suffered the predictable result: the scarring of her own nervous system! And then somehow she sidesteps decades of research and cobbles together a neural interface out of nothing!'
What irked him most was not that how so close it seemed to sheer luck or magic, since he'd come to accept that scientific progress rested upon the examination and understanding of strange data, not the rejection of results to favor the hypothesis; but if it had been -planned- somehow.
It was taken for granted the NERV was hoarding technology they think the world may not be ready to accept or handle, however foolish and futile such an effort may be. It was only the demands of war that kept people from inquiring too much. It was far too convenient.
Where DID Nagisa get the idea for that? All the flailing about looking for a cure or to prevent puppetry, it could all have been just a ruse. It was occuring to people that Nagisa started off with the EXACT SAME means and resources, the precisely similar knowledge base, as did NERV.
"It is my professional opinion that Akagi is NOT fit to return to duty. As a duly authorized inspector by the Japanese government-"
"... which means nothing to me, since this is a UN operation."
"This is a medical situation! The risks... this is just simple prudence. I can go over your head for this, Katsuragi! Even I know Akagi is too valuable to lose."
"We need Ritsuko, we need her to get the pilots out of their own comas. If you think you can get the kids out of it...?"
The brain specialist shook his head.
"Then thanks, but get out. We've got work to do." Misato smirked slightly, hunching over behind her desk and looping her fingers together. She dared him to threaten her again with political repercussions.
Dr. Sakamoto grit his teeth. "Then why am I even here? I shouldn't even have bothered. You... people... just keep on doing what you want no matter what." He spat out the word 'people', as if meaning something completely opposite.
"You are -excused-, Doctor." Misato replied tonelessly. "Thank you for your time."
All this bleating about Third Impact; he closed his eyes and sucked in his breath. The prospect their 'victory', that risk forever closed to humanity, the world raised a monster to beat a monster. Would it really, that easily, go back into the cage?
As the man from Kyoto walked off muttering, Misato let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the wall. This resentment between NERV Tokyo-3 and the rest of the country's been bubbling for a while. For all that those coming to work in the Fortress City seemed to be baptized by battle into fervent industry, it seemed like it was sucking in goodwill from around the Kanto region. Probably because Tokyo-3 was sucking up its economy and working population.
Without the boy to speak and kind of deflect the attention, people were starting to look at the numbers. The opinion of one more influential voice in the scientific community might burst the balance. What was making this rise to the surface now?
Oh, right. Misato pushed off the wall and began to walk towards the medical level. Mousy little Maya Ibuki picked a fine time to unveil her psychotic-protective side and semi-randomly go around kneeing people in the groin.
She was a soldier, dammit, not a diplomat, not a conciliator. The old man was better at it, but he was guilty, guilty, guilty - no way in hell could he have held on for so long if ignorant of Gendo Ikari's plans. Misato knew she was safe from being replaced - the pilots trusted her, and their voices mattered more than any penny-pinching bureaucrat. But the pilots... were silent now. Ikari and Ayanami were still under, and Sohryu was too far away.
Only Akagi could speak now for strategic and logistical concerns; all Katsuragi needed to worry about was to use the tools provided to their most effective extent. But she first needed to have those tools.
Misato tsk'ed. She'd been avoiding Ritsuko. True, the scientist had willingly allowed herself to be kept in medical confinement and Misato had to deal with the political fallout- but surely she could have blown off some meetings just to see if enough of her friend remained in there.
Seeing Ritsuko after the battle scared her. A pillar of strength and a mind beyond peer; that was Akagi's role in NERV. Her delightful madness, AKAGI's boasts were similar yet much more amusing than LADER's. Unplugged from the MAGI, the blonde looked so lost, so frail. Her brown eyes stared out at the world in hate.
Misato cursed her own cowardice. It was something in the mind, she knew it was out of her depths... she hesitated going over there to ask if her old friend was all right. It was Maya who stood nearby, she could understand what really plagued Akagi.
Ibuki had changed too. She looked cold, ferocious, and pitiless. Misato felt like she was standing on the side of a river, watching everyone else float by. She still felt the same
way, wanting to protect them all, but without the power or the smarts to do it.
Ritsuko Solved Problems. Misato was starting to find herself as one of those problems. Maybe there were those who liked having her as the bedrock of familiarity, but she was sick of running along the banks. Eventually they would go around a bend she might not be able to follow.
If only they would give her a problem that could be solved by punching or shooting something or someone! Or, and here she snicked slightly and in irony, maybe a drinking contest.
=][=
Was it just her, or were the lights really getting weaker the closer she got to Ritsuko's room? She got an entire wing of the hospital to herself, and Misato shivered under the eerie silence. She didn't believe in ghosts and grudges, but Tokyo-3 had seen enough horrors and deaths to support making a horror movie script someday.
But, in contrast with the gloom outside, Ritsuko's room was well-lit. The blonde was sitting up on her bed and working with a laptop. "Hey! Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Misato asked in what she hoped was a friendly enough tone.
Ritsuko took off her glasses and sighed. "Oh. It's you." There was a subtle whirring noise with her every movement. "And I am resting. That's why I'm lying down here rather than moving the lab. "Hmf. I suppose I should thank you for having some of my equipment moved down here."
Misato waved and smiled. "Um... yeah. So. How are you doing?"
Ritsuko gestured around. "More bored than anything, really. I just never noticed until just how... slow... we live." She turned her attention back to her computer. "I suppose it's a matter of perspective. Ennui is the greatest enemy of immortals."
Misato just nodded. "That's a plugsuit, isn't it?" The hospital gown could not fully cover the shiny black suit, and there was something about the slick form-fitting lines, when combined with the soft green cloth, that seemed positively indecent. Misato quirked her lips in an odd smile. "Did you just happen to have an adult-sized plugsuit lying around, or...?"
A plugsuit, with its environment controls, was like bondage leather that breathes. One could wear one semi-comfortably for days; that was how they were designed. There were also the uncomfortable insertion points for the plumbing. Ritsuko's bland look was overflowing with unspoken sarcasm.
Misato laughed weakly, the one to be embarrassed instead. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm sure you've already gotten a report from Sakamoto and his ilk."
"They're not exactly helpful. You're not being helpful. Come on, Rits-chan. We're friends, aren't we? I just want to know if you're okay." Misato rubbed the nape of her neck. "Um. Doesn't that... hurt?"
Ritsuko turned around slightly to show the cabling attached firmly to the back of her skull. "No, it doesn't. The brain itself doesn't really feel, but if you must know, there is this sensation, it's heavy. That's why this..." she touched the overlapping plates running down the back of her suit. "is fixed into my spinal column. An armature and exoframe reinforces my spine and bypasses muscle control. In some ways, this is more efficient than trying to repair my nerves bundles. I don't have to do open surgery into my arms, if I can just manipulate them from the outside. It's based on the technology we used in rebuilding Kirishima's arm, so I still get some feeling even through the suit."
Misato looked pained. "Ritsuko... I'm sorry..."
"Why? You had nothing to do with this."
"You're controlling your own body like it's a puppet. That's... not right. Who did this to you? It was Gendo wasn't it? He betrayed us to join the Cradle!"
Cold amusement graced Ritsuko's face. "Hah. That presupposes he had any loyalty to us in the first place. NERV was that man's tool, not vice versa. I pity instead that band of pompous little misfits." She shook her head. "No- I did this to myself. It's better than dying, in any case."
"Ritsuko, is this really it? You're going to wear that for the rest of your life? I can't forgive him." Fighting for humanity's sake was one thing, but this was personal now. She wanted to protect her Children, but as young gods striding the battlefield in their engines of destruction, there was only so much she could do without tainting their ability to fight.
This time, she wanted to put her arms around Gendo's twiggly little neck and pop his head right off. It's all become so much so suddenly.
'Revenge, is it?' she heard a distant oily whisper. 'Power. You want power. To protect the weak and the helpless, hold on to your hate.'
Misato blinked and looked around. What was that just now?
Ritsuko still looked unconcerned. While it was indeed based on the technology used in Kirishima's artificial arm, it was also true that so were the myomer control systems in Powered Armor. She actually pitied Misato.
"There's no need to worry about me." she said as she put her laptop away, while stretching out to yawn. "It's fine. I can work with this."
"Ritsuko..."
"What?"
"I'm noticing that you have... something... poking out from between your legs."
Ritsuko looked down to the metal tentacle she used to keep the laptop from sliding down her lap. She pulled the small computer free, exposing the manipulator tip. At its center was an AC plug. "Oh, this? It's just a... mechadendrite, is what we're calling it. We've had the technology to make segmented limbs for years, it's just that simple joints are easier to make."
The mechadendrite slid back, drawing Misato's attention as it drew down Ritsuko's thighs and hiding behind the scientist's crotch. It reappeared again out from flaps in the back of her lab coat. "Surprisingly, it doesn't take much more concentration to control six limbs, if only that I can only really have four active at a time. We've been underestimating the adaptability of the human brain."
Ritsuko arched her back, showing off where the mechadendrites emerged from the plates over her spine. Misato bit her lip to keep the comments in. She knew the reason why plugsuits needed to be skintight: they functioned very similar to diving suits, it was just that the pilots could breathe LCL. With teenagers, it was possible to ignore it, but for an adult like Ritsuko... the lines and wiring seemed designed to show off that ass.
"Take this is a complement, Rits-chan, but are you sure it's not just you... being, uh... you?" Misato winced. "I mean, it's kind of weird, isn't it?" In her memory again blossomed the bright wings of Evangelion Unit 01, that formed into four more arms.
Seeing the change in her expression, Ritsuko crossed her arms together and began to coil the pair of mechadendrites like cobras around her neck. The tip flicked up, seeming to hiss, vibrating and opening and closing their tiny manipulators. "It's been done before."
Misato chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, I can tell why your doctors are too scared to contradict your own diagnosis. Okay. I trust you... if you say you're okay, then... you're okay."
"Maybe you shouldn't trust so blindly." Ritsuko replied firmly. "Not even me. What's happened to me is too close to what the Unity boasts for his followers. I almost didn't want to go back to this..." here she clutched at her chest as if to claw out her heart. '... this stupid, emotional, betraying shell.' She smirked. "I suppose I should get used to being bored."
"Ritsuko..."
"Never mind. Leave that for when the fighting's done. Spilling my secrets won't make me feel any better, and it would just ruin your day."
"Maybe not. As de facto Commander of NERV, you should keep me in the loop."
"Ah, but the loop's broken. Severed, like Gordian's Knot. I don't know if you've noticed, Katsuragi, but the world ends with you." She pointed accusingly with one of her metal-ring tentacles.
Misato scowled. "Everybody's already working double shifts on reconstruction. What do you expect me to do?" She pushed away the mechadendrite with a finger, and just that felt dirty somehow.
"Ah, you're focusing on aboveground repair?"
Dropping armament buildings meant left open shafts, not to mention the gaping hole left by the Ashino Lance Cannon. The obvious points of vulnerability were obvious. "I'll get to the paperwork later. The city needs to be secured first." Misato rubbed her forehead. "But... it feels like make-work. We're still helpless against any form of attack."
"I know why you're here. There isn't much we can do but wait. Your little boy will come out of that sleep as soon as it pleases him. I could, of course, pump him full of stimulants again, but this is the only way to make sure the pilots actually go get their recuperative sleep." Ritsuko snorted and muttered something unpleasant. "And don't worry about Ayanami. Her body is more resilient than that, and her mind won't snap from mere trauma. Worst comes to worst, she can always be replaced."
Misato winced. "Oh, god. Why did it have to be clones? I won't allow it, Ritsuko."
"I -have- pondered destroying all of Ayanami's... backups... to give her the gift of uniqueness. If you people want to keep treating her as any other human being, rather than the half-human weapon that she is, then so be it. I don't really care anymore."
"That's murder. It's bad enough that we torture our Children, that NERV's responsible for putting that girl through hell, I won't condone trying to fix our sins by making even more evil." She shivered, remembering those empty smiles, and Maya Ibuki's gleeful face.
"Nagisa is nothing." the young woman had said at the time. "There is no power that he has, that we can't have for ourselves. We won't have to give up our own humanity.
Ayanami is an army unto herself. We won't lose... we CAN'T lose, Katsuragi-sempai. After all..." here she tilted her head to the side, grinning. "As long as we're alive we can try again. If we're dead, it doesn't count."
Though it was deep underground, Misato felt a breeze, and the winds sluicing through the grates sounded fainty like a groan of 'wwaaaaahhhh...'
"Dammit, Ritsuko. How long has this been going on? You... Gendo... even Shinji, how long have you been playing with human lives as if it's some sort of game?"
"What a silly question, Misato. Always." Ritsuko smiled beatifically. "Always."
Misato groaned and collapsed onto the bed. She rolled over to stare up at Ritsuko's puzzled expression. "About that... did you hear that the old man's been arrested? It's all over the news now- Ayanami's a clone. They think we're growing Evangelion pilots. Like... the Cradle about their clinical immortality thing."
"Logical. Why rely on random chance, pulling out normal children from their homes, when a genetically-engineered being can fight and suffer for us?"
"That's monstrous, Ritsuko."
"They think we're monsters, and yet they can appreciate just how much easier it would be, put down morals for the sake of getting things done. If Ayanami can use an AT-field, then the Evangelions themselves... would be obsolete."
"Can she?"
"Of course."
"Shit."
It was bad enough trying to keep Evangelion technology from proliferating, but just Ayanami's mere existence was a threat to world peace. It would literally be impossible to HAVE world peace, unless it was somehow enforced by a legion of blue-haired girls. One Nagisa was irritating enough; more of him would make Shinji go spare.
"They want to have inspectors poking around, and you to make a statement. If you're fit enough to return to duty, you're fit enough to talk to the press. Ritsuko..." and here she sighed heavily. "Is there anything you can say that isn't heavily incriminating?"
"Has Ibuki shown you Terminal Dogma yet?"
"Um, no, but I kinda get what it is. What I don't get is why we had to hide it in the first place. It's what the Angels want, isn't it? It's not like anyone else can try to steal it, it's too big."
"Mmm. It is referenced as the Second Angel. You're not the first person to think it's strange. Just another weird and seemingly pointless policy decision- but it's not its location we wanted to hide."
"Ritsuko. Depending on what you know, once this thing is over... they're talking crimes against humanity for what you've been doing to the clones."
"Hmm? And what HAVE I been doing?"
"Dummy Plug System." Misato said flatly. Kaji had shown her pictures. The.. 'Spare Parts.' It still stymied her, that not only would Ayanami know about this and just accept it, but Shinji... he didn't seem to care. That kindness in the kid she took in, for the first time she wondered if that was just a front. There was no doubt now that he was truly his father's son.
The scientist laughed coarsely and leaned over Misato. "So the old man's singing that sweetly? He's trying to get back into the good graces of the government, so there would be someone to pick up the pieces once they're finished tearing us down."
"We can't let this happen." Misato moaned. "We won! Why are we being punished?"
Ritsuko sighed and lay back on her bed. "Because what we've done is just the latest in a history of poor decisions. We're not wise..." she said numbly while starting at the ceiling. "We had so many chances, we know what we should be doing, but we keep on doing the wrong things." Ritsuko put her right hand over her eyes. "That bastard. He left me behind... dammit. Dammit! He couldn't even be decent enough just to kill me if I'm useless now."
"Ritsuko?"
"I envy you, you know that? You can hate Ikari ... Gendo... all you want. I just... at least you KNOW what to feel. I don't know anything! I'm just... here."
"Wait... are you saying... ugh!"
"Hah. Ironic isn't it?" Ritsuko removed her hand, but kept her eyes closed behind her glasses. "For all that some whisper you slept your way into your post as NERV's tactical commander, I'm the one that's really assuming the position." She grimaced. "Not unless you go pull down under your bedsheets the other Ikari, you raging shotacon."
Misato smiled wryly. Ritsuko being so passive-agressive, just like old times. She always seemed so aloof, and combative when trying to express herself emotionally."It's okay, Rits-chan. This doesn't really change anything. We're still here. I'm here for you, you know... however much that means."
"Are we -really- friends, Misato?"
"What? Of course we are! Aren't we?"
Ritsuko opened and closed her palms. "That Ritsuko Akagi you know from college, she seems so far away now. The Ritsuko Akagi that Maya Ibuki thinks she knows... who is she? The Ritsuko that's your friend, the one you could trust... when did she die? There was a time when I was really sure." Ritsuko stroked Misato's hair and turned her head away."We could have been..." She sighed and shook her head.
Misato blinked. "Yeeah... this philosophy talk? It's bullshit." She rapped Ritsuko on the forehead with her knuckles.
"Ow. Misato, what the hell."
"You've been moping around here alone too long, I think. Hey, let's go do something. No, wait, shit. If you show up out there, then the commitee starts the media circus. We gotta sneak by the papparazi."
Ritsuko laughed weakly. Someone hadn't changed. Her heart hurt so much. It was glorious. "I can't nag you to study for the midterm exams anymore, Katsuragi, but the inquest sounds close enough."
"Oh, Right." She groaned and tugged at her long hair. "What did we do wrong this time? Sheesh. They could give us some time to breathe. We're fighting for our lives here!"
"That's a lie."
Misato blinked. "What?"
"The one who could come closest to defeating us, Nagisa's Unity using the Earth's Cradle, they never had any intention of starting Impact. If they could beat us, then they could handle any Angels that may appear. They're monsters, but then we're not that much different." Ritsuko paused. "At best, we're fighting for a world where monsters should no longer exist."
Misato nodded. Man with the power of the star gods. Either they need to wise up quickly or remove themselves from temptation. "If I'm in charge, then I'm not going to start Third Impact! I'll do anything to stop it."
"If you let Evangelion technology proliferate, then it's inevitable." Ritsuko replied softly. "Misato. Killing me and destroying the MAGI's database will, at best, delay Eva tech recovery by five to ten years. Hybrid technology will disappear; there's a reason why Nagisa doesn't just clone himself en masse and win the world with his own bare hands. I just want you to remember that."
Misato sucked in her breath. "What are you saying? No way I'm going to let that happen too. Is it... oh yeah, Gendo's still alive, isn't he? Goddamn." She began to gnaw on her thumbnail again. "Kaji's trying to stall for time, but I still don't know what this is about. Rits-chan... I don't know what to do."
"That's a lie too."
"But..." Misato winced, but a flicker of guilty knowledge passed across her expression. She moaned. "I don't want to..."
"I'm just a -resource-." Ritsuko added. "A civilian. You're a soldier." 'It's your job to protect me.' Ritsuko took off her glasses and looked faintly hopeful. "Remember this, too. I don't deserve your trust, but you have mine. You've always had it."
Misato jerked back in surprise, even blushing for no reason she could readily identify, then grinned. "But if I move things around... it's exactly what they hope I'd do. It's the excuse they're looking for to kick me out of command."
And by extension, to put someone who might be less open to indulging the pilots' childish whims. Ritsuko Akagi had her knowledge as leverage, but she had only the choice of destroying her precious data or working with the new management.
"Gendo's not the type for pillow talk, you know?" Ritsuko said offhand. "His plans, he just keeps on using us as pawns, no one ever gets wind of his his full intent." She smirked. "But you know about Plans One to Nine, right? Those little brain puzzles about what we could do with an Evangelion in open warfare? Gendo, of course, knew them, even if he didn't really care. I don't think things were ever supposed to get that far... with him around we were never really meant to 'win'. But I just so happen to know from someone else that they now go up to thirteen."
"Pillow talk?" Misato echoed shrilly. "Too much informatio-... wait, thirteen? Nine was to somehow get an Evangelion launched. Eight is to get the global unity just to -allow- the possibility of Plan Nine. Getting to outer space is going to be stupidly expensive."
"For us at the bottom of a gravity well, certainly. Nagisa and his ilk, and Gendo, are already in space." Ritsuko sighed. "The thirteenth is named the Death Star scenario for reasons I'd rather not specify."
=][=
=][=
Kaji was clean, for change freshly-shaved, and his tuxedo was expensive and well-cut, but nevertheless looked scruffier than the usual. Faint rings under his eyes betrayed that he hadn't had a good night's sleep for days. Misato was much the same way, she just hid it better.
He thought she was the most beautiful she'd ever been. Then again, he'd always liked Misato's childish pout. "I'm wasting time here." she hissed. "There's still too much to do back home."
She winced at the hard flashes of light. Though the event was hardly as high-profile as a gala movie premiere (and wow that said a lot about people's priorities; she reflected) it was unavoidable. She grit her teeth and tried to look dignified. She'd never really thought she'd ever have to deal with the 'burdens' of fame.
Kaji was the other UN attache, the one to NERV rather than the UNIG support base, and thus -technically- outranked even Yang. People were only curious as to who the hell was he to be Katsuragi Misato's escort? He was more amused about it than anything.
"Ritsuko wants you to learn something from all of this." he whispered as they entered the lobby. The technical term for it, he remembered, was schmoozing. Cozying up to the rich and the powerful and pretending to be fascinated at their interests. "You're going to have to learn how to -talk- to people, if you want them to keep on supplying NERV. Civilians don't like to take orders."
"Oh shut it you flaming hypocrite. I know that. I'm no sociopath to expect people just to turn on and off if I just push their buttons to serve my purposes." she whispered ruefully. "But seriously, am I the only one in Tokyo-3 without some dastardly plot going on?"
Kaji chuckled. "For a broad range of 'dastardly', maybe."
-][-
Yang was not unused to the sumptous luxury a first-class hotel offered, though mostly from his upbringing hepaid more attention to the flow of staff and entertainers. He'd chatted briefly with one of the waiters and requested for the young man to keep him supplied with red wine and some little snacks every time the waiter made a full circuit through the hall. One wasn't supposed to give tips to waiters in a formal function, Yang knew, after all he'd been in the same job when he was that age. So he gave the young man a note to his supervisor mentioning that he approved of the prompt and attentive service. Just his signature alone made it worth something as an authograph.
Hong Kong, pre-Impact, just a few years after being given back to China. The former British colony fared quite well from the regime change, despite having to rein in a bit making fun of the mainland. If given a few more years, specially with the dot-com bubble burst, they could have served to spearhead deep into the global market with cheap electronics, taking the edge off Japan's dominance in that market segment.
Yang stood by a large picture window, facing the east. Old and new Kyoto glittered before him, and the seas beyond broke up the moon into shards. The waters were past the horizon were known as the Sea of Japan, or the Korean Sea, or even by some as the Northeast China Sea, but one he just referred to as the East Sea. In his mind he saw the contiginous arc that were his Navy's operations area, hugging the coast of mainland Asia.
One last taste of the salty ocean air, ah, if only he wasn't trapped by this facile little party. Tokyo 3's coast was nice and all, but it faced east, not the waters where he began his journey into command. Ironically, it was only in the last stages of the Reunification that he was actually an admiral.
His moment of contemplation was quickly broken. "Yang-hakase!" he heard someone exclaim joyfully. He turned to see Hideo Kurata, the current Minister of Culture along with several other socialites. Yang pasted a smile on his face.
"Ahh, Yang-sensei, have you been introduced to Miharu-hakase, the Dean of Neo-Kyoto University's Department of History?
"No. A pleasure, Doctor Miharu."
"Likewise, Yang-sensei. I understand you're something of a historian yourself? That's fascinating."
Yang chose not to mention that he had a similar Ph.D., it was just that people kept forgetting it in their effort not to add 'Admiral' or 'Councilor' in front of his name. He kept smiling. Yang the Teacher was a title he much preferred.
"And this is Miss Miranda Coffrey, publisher of African Free Press and chairperson of the Golden Apple Foundation."
"Delighted to meet you at last." The tall woman affected a confused look a moment. "Professor Yang."
"Thank you, Miss Coffrey. I'm an admirer of your work."
"Not as much as I admire yours, I'm sure. We still remember fondly your time spent in Africa."
I never went there; Yang wanted to say. I just offered the UN the use of the Chinese Army for peacekeeping, since we were the ones with the surplus in manpower. If the United States Navy formed the bowstring of the UN NAVY, then the People's Army was the unsubtle sledgehammer of the UN ARMY.
It was India and Pakistan that kicked off the nuclear exchange, it was just convenient China was close by to pick up the pieces. Yang was adamant, it would be the height of stupidity to try to expand influence and take new territory. They barely had enough food to feed themselves, nowhere even near what's needed for adventurism.
There were actually very few 'threats' to China's existence. Everybody was busy Post-Impact just trying to survive. Land grabs and 'living space' was so last century. With the reduction of world population from over four billion to just one and a half, there was plenty of slack. With the UN taking care of supplies for peacekeeping and humanitarian purposes, Yang bargained his military away from having to use up the stores needed to reboot Chinese agriculture and economy.
The Suez Canal was less than half a world away, after all. Unless your name was Harlock, and your ship bearing Arcadia on its side, pirates were not allowed to exist in Yang's oceans.
Coffrey was keeping her face in profile, showing off the sharp features so different from the typically rounded, and one might say childish, Asian face. She was disappointed slightly at just how -short- Yang was in person, but still intrigued. In the Great Game, Yang preferred to act as if he always held a low hand, tempting others to keep raising the stakes until they had far more to lose than he would, no matter what it that he'd choose to do.
And in the end even she had to say; My god, he really does look a lot like Jackie Chan.
"This is Satoshi Huoko, of Houko Construction." There was less cheer in the Minister's face as he made the introduction. "I trust you already know each other?"
"No, but..." Yang chose to adress the tall, round-faced man first. "I've definitely heard of you, mister Houko." Yang bowed slightly. "How difficult not to notice the little treasure box symbol all over our sites."
Houko smiled widely. Though quite wealthy, only recently had the land developer gained enough clout to be invited into high-power gatherings. The only reason he was there was because Coffrey had been pumping him for information about Tokyo-3 when Cultural Minister Kurata came along to gather foils for drawing out Yang's intentions. "I'm honored to be of help, Yang-sensei."
"Of course you are." Yang replied with unfeigned good humor. "You're building a monument that equals the Pyramids of Egypt, the Great Wall of Q'in, and the Great Dams of the twentienth century."
The man's wealth was linked to Tokyo-3, and he lived in the same hometown as the younger Ikari. His loyalty was only far too blatant, which meant he must not be ignored while at the same time limiting just how useful he'd be. A mere businessman like him should not be of any interest to a personage such as Yang.
'What are you trying to say, Yang?' the others wanted to ask. 'Ignoring me/us in favor of someone who supports Tokyo-3 so completely... is this a hint or a threat?'
"We're all expecting great things from the Treasure Box." Yang added, in a tone almost child-like in its eagerness. "Although I suppose it will have to wait until this war on Earth is done."
Houko bowed again. "We'll try our best not to disappoint, Yang-sensei."
'Wait, what?'
The two shared a knowing look, amused at the blank stares from the three power elite. Plan Eleven. They nodded to each other. Plan Nine was the invasion of the moon, the prosecution of war into and around the Moon's orbit. Plan Eleven was war within and around Mars. Twelve was the utilization of the entirety of Sol for conflict. Thirteen was the pursuit of war into another star system.
"Your pardon, Yang-sensei..." Dr. Miharu coughed into his fist. The old man stared at Yang. "This war. Do you think it's nearing it's conclusion?"
Yang blinked. "Now, pardon me, what? What makes you think that?" He reached over and took a cocktail glass from a passing waiter. "This is a war where we are utterly opaque to the enemies numbers, disposition, or even if they have ANY logistical trail."
Dr. Miharu smirked. "In that case, is it really a war after all? It's like being attacked by beasts from the forests. Can it ever end without comitting genocide on the Angels? Now that we know that alien life really exists... it sounds such a waste to spend so much on just killing each other. Is it not a good enough end to war just for both to stop fighting?"
"And speaking of which..." Miranda Coffrey cut in with a wan smile. "It seems now that UN has been preparing for the Angels' return, for these last ten years. Were you aware of this, Professor Yang?"
He nodded. But of course. The sinkhole that used to be Beijing-2, or Shenyang, proved China's complicity in NERV affairs. They paid for it in the loss of their new capital city and millions of lives.
The woman's expression was searching. Why wasn't Yang showing even the slightest bit of anger? If NERV hadn't put their Evangelion production site there, it would never have been a target. "If you knew then what you do now, what would you have done? What if you had been put in charge of the defense, instead of..." and here shegimaced slightly. "Ikari."
Both; her tone implied the answer to the unspoken common query. Houko looked sour, while the two other Japanese men nodded in agreement. Yang wanted to laugh.
"If I have been put in charge, I'd have said this was a war that simply CANNOT be won. The applicable plan would be to somehow exhaust the Angels against a prepared killing field- which, incidentally, is what NERV had done with Tokyo-3. It's working. The problem is that we have no way of knowing if the enemy is anywhere even close to being sapped of their reserves." He took a sip of his drink. "And now with the added complication of the Cradle... it's impossible. Trying to hold ground will lead to us eventually being worn down to nothing. Unfortunately we lack any capability to counterattack."
"So you agree then! Somehow we must negotiate or encourage the Angels to stop attacking- violence is no solution here. We can at least -talk- to those of the Cradle."
'If you knew what I now know; violence is the perfect solution here.' Yang thought. 'Because we DO have the capability to counterattack. The Angels aren't -aliens- at all. And there IS a way to get rid of all of them all at once.'
"Normally, you would be correct. This is not a normal situation." He smiled thinly. "I prefer not to comment on that until we have sufficient information."
"Information at NERV." Minister Kurata said smugly. "Information that's being hidden from us. Information is power, wouldn't you say, Yang-sensei? If we had some other way of handling the Angels, we could focus more on dealing with the threat of the Cradle... and Ikari." He flicked a look at Houko. "Reducing NERV's power is just a side-effect, but breaking a monopoly can only help our economy."
"Ah. Right. The high wages around Tokyo-3 is pumping inflation elsewhere. You're experiencing a little bubble right now, aren't you?"
Little? Heh. If the war ends, UN funding dries up. Then as Tokyo-3 implodes, it would take the rest of the country along with it. Yang took another sip. Uknown to them, there was a way out of it- the Treasure Box. Houko looked completely unworried. Unfortunately, it was not something they could reveal just yet.
It would only work if a quick, decisive end to the war could be forced. Even more unfortunate- the way to end the war looks just as bad as simply losing the war.
"We can get through this." Kurata was saying. "Peace is worth fighting for."
"Oh you have no idea..." Yang murmured.
The hubbub around them pitched higher than the ambient music for a moment. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the door.
"Oh so THAT'S Katsuragi." Coffrey said with a sniff. "I'll say this much, she cleans up well enough. But coming here in her dress uniform, my god, that's beyond crass."
"Why not? She is a woman, but also a soldier. Being NERV's supreme commander trumps being a hanger-on to Ryouji's arm." She looked ready to fight, which was not comforting to certain groups.
Coffrey turned back to see Yang glaring at the entering couple over the rim of his glass. She couldn't help but to laugh. "Is that jealousy I see there, professor?"
"I have sufficient reasons to dislike Ryouji, it doesn't have to involve Katsuragi." Yang's face was carefully bland. And, by the mischievious glint in the blonde's eyes, as expected she chose to believe that it really was about Katsuragi.
The Minister of Culture was not as privy to the details as, say, the Minister of Defense, but had enough of the big picture as was needed to perform damage control and recovery once it was all over. Ryouji had been very helpful, but coming here with Katsuragi was as clear as a message of ambiguity could be. He quirked his lips. Or it could be a plea for mercy. The spy was unrelenting in his pursuit of the truth, but once it was in his hands, it was only with the promise of lenience for Katsuragi that he handed it over.
"No public demonstrations, no black leatherboots on parade, no flag-waving, no songs." the historian from Kyoto-2 murmured. "We just need to accept our own responsibilities."
"Hm?" Yang noted distractedly. Was this old teacher informed of the situation or was he just just guessing quite well? "You seriously can't expect me to say anyone else has better expertise than those with the most experience at killing aliens."
"The institution lives, Yang-sensei. We've accepted that change must come. NERV does good work, but from what I've seen... isn't -good- per se. Good has never come from granting too much power into organizations accountable only to themselves."
"Which NERV is not. They serve no internal security, if it wasn't for the fact that Evangelions are walking monstrosities, they function very similar to a Navy with its support structure. I'm sure -you- remember what it means for a powerful attack force to be caught unprepared." Yang smiled fondly. "The Land Dreadnought is rather well-named." His cheer faded. "And now with Fortress Sturmbrand, air battleships aren't too far in the future."
Ah so much potential silliness. He smiled. Even without the Eva, the days of single-missile kills were numbered. A world whose combat would show the return of those who fought for strength, for pride, or who could read the tide of battle.
"It's ridiculous, isn't it? On one hand, we have all of these massive achievements, and behind closed doors we learn that Akagi is cutting up children!" Minister Kurata turned to Houko and asked with a slight smirk "Considering how close the pilots are to each other, one must wonder how this will affect their relationship to their handlers when they wake up or return from overseas."
"Secrets can be poisonous things." Dr. Miharu added. "One must wonder just how much knowledge the older Ikari must have allowed to the younger."
Houko grit his teeth. He was a fairly large man, towering over the shrunken old historian. "With respect to your age and position, Miharu-hakase... are you implying what I think you're implying? He'd never allow that to happen to Ayanami! That's slander!"
The old man just shook his head sadly. "This is the danger, you see? It was just an idle thought. Perhaps you have forgotten, that rather than defend the boy's reputation, perhaps a Child needs to be protected from further abuse."
"And it still remains that no one else other than these can pilot the Evangelions." Yang replied evenly. "Or, in fact, that there are ANY other Evangelions."
The old man leaned in close and whispered. "... that is a lie."
"Not the part about the lack of Evangelions." Yang replied without missing a beat. Coffrey gasped, but then smirked in triumph. That was something she didn't know, but it was no surprise that Yang had either figured it out or had someone dig it out.
They were being uncharacteristically loose-lipped, she noticed. Was she supposed to be impressed? It would soon be media fodder, anyway.
The music's tempo changed into one suitable for dancing. Coffrey licked her full red lips and put her hands on her hips. "Well now, gentlemen, this conversation has gone a bit too dark for my tastes-" and turning to Yang. "Professor, would you care to dance?"
"No, thank you." was the quick reply. "I'd rather stay here, if you don't mind." He looked pointedly out the picture window again.
Coffrey laughed gaily, shrugging off the rejection. "Oh come now, professor. I'm sure you do know how to dance." She moved to get a look outside. "What's so interesting out there, anyway?"
Yang gave a slight sigh. "Mm. Life. The universe. Everything." He shook his head. "But if you want to hear something more concrete- eight million men and more submarines crowded in one sea than any other point and perhaps never again in history." Then in a whisper, seemingly forgetting where he was, "...and these hours just wasting away."
The Minister of Culture blinked nervously behind his square-lensed spectacles.
She looked at the nervous faces of the Japanese men around her and laughed again. "Oh, Yang- thank you again for encouraging investment in Africa. You had the chance for conquest back then... and now, instead, you're here."
It was quite obvious to her. Why would China attack when Yang wasn't there to command their strategy? Japan had quite the edge in technology and UN NAVY support. If Yang had something so unsubtle in mind, then he wouldn't have put himself as the hostage of a future enemy.
Yang just shrugged. "For whatever good it does."
Coffrey gave her most charming smile. "Then why not relax for at least tonight, professor? Pining away won't do you much good."
There was a the barest flicker in his expression, and suddenly it seemed as if Yang had... changed. There was just the slightest bit of a smile on his face, his eyes narrowing slightly, and yet it was one that seemed to say 'Bitch, -please-. You think you know who I am?'
The tall woman stepped back, frightened, then sniffed pridefully as she hurriedly turned away. Yang gave the others a look that clearly communicated 'get the hell out of my face'. The men too retreated, frowning but somewhat satisfied. Just as they expected from a 'gaijin', to be so rude and uncultured. Houko however, seemed a bit more hurt by the hostility.
He looked back with a faintly betrayed gaze. Yang just sighed, shook his head, and stared off into the balcony again.
At that same moment, a flotilla was already halfway across the Pacific. It had the standard carrier group formation, except that the center was a large modified tanker rather than an aircraft carrier. Yang looked at his watch. Sixteen hours. He took a careful sip of the wine in his hand. Eleven years of not touching anything stronger than tea, gone. He deserved it now.
'Just a little bit longer now, Mei.' A somewhat sinister chuckle escaped his lips as the warmth of alcohol rushed down his throat.
=][=
Just as people all over the world had this strange feeling of enroaching finality, everyone there realized immediately that they were going to regret having Yang as guest speaker. Yang had noticed that for all the reputation Japanese men had for severity and politeness, they tended to laugh a whole lot when around people they were supposed to be getting along with. So, what the hell, he decided- in Rome do as the Romans do.
"Ahem. Oh, I'm sorry. That wasn't really very funny." Everyone kept a careful silence. Yang hadn't actually started his speech yet. "I was just reminded of an old line that I heard 'Comrades, we are suffering together'. Haha... excuse me. I'm not really very good at speeches. It was my wife who wrote most of them, really. Yes, I'm just going to stand here and ramble away, if you don't mind?"
The assembly watched with muted horror and amusement. The press, in glee. Perfectly coordinated publicity functions looked nice on society pages, but in a predictably genteel way. They might be 'news', but not very interesting.
Cameras flashed, catching Yang's faintly addled expression. He leaned against the podium, as unconcerned with proper gravitas as if standing in front of bored middle high students. Kaji half-expected Hikari Horaki to come out of nowhere and start scolding him.
Kaji felt a chill run up his spine. The Prime Minister, seated behind Yang, was frowning and whispering with his clique. The guests were hiding smirks, save for those looking
confused or suspicious. Misato nudged Kaji. "Stop hiding your face."
"What? Even I can tell this is a diplomatic disaster waiting to happen."
"Then why are you the one being embarrassed?"
"Call it professional courtesy."
'Damn, but Yang is good at this!' He was making them underestimate him, again! People, he figured, had a range of tolerance for tinpot dictators as long as they were far away, a non-threat, and sufficiently amusing. Yang, still looking far too relaxed, tilted his head aside and smiled knowingly at the cameras.
"Don't tell me you're not disgusted by this display..." Kaji whispered to Misato. "Look around. Who else isn't buying this?"
Misato did so. Most were men of the JSSDF and from Tokyo-3. They could not so easily forget that it was goddamn -Admiral- of a much-derided Navy that somehow managed to craft one of the most sweeping land campaigns in history. Political figures should know the long tradition of friction between the Army and Navy- it would takea hell lot more than pretty speeches to bridge that.
"Hey wait. Is Yang like one of those generals who win more when drunk than when sober? That... wossname... an American, I think?" Misato remembered finding that little factoid at the officer academy. "Ah! I remember him now! The Americans and their Civil War."
Kaji snorted. Typical. Misato had an expression that said 'I should be like that!'
Yang had circuitously turned to more serious topics. "... early days of Second Impact were hell for those of us that remember. There's no need to tell it again, in case I ruin your appetite." Despite that, some looked sour anyway. Yang, still oozing ease, continued "And now we 'know' that Impact was just the opening gambit in a war that would consume the human race.
It's been a year already. What did we lose this time? The casualty figures... ah, I already said I didn't want to ruin your appetite, didn't I? Ask instead, what have we GAINED? We've suffered through a catacylsm after cataclysm that shame the bedtime horrors of nuclear winter. The Earth is stronger than that.
And now we know, WE are stronger than that.
Ladies and gentlemen! A toast! To our heroes. The many nameless heroes who gave their lives so we could stand here today, and to the many more who will give their lives to protect strangers they've never met. To the tired workers who with their toil grant the Evangelions power to fight. A toast! To the unseen and the unremembered."
Applause and agreeable mumurs rose from the guests as they raised their glasses.
"What do we have now? The time before Impact is like the dream of a child; we have our innocence torn from us. Our home is our world, and it has been defiled. Our world is our body, and we have been violated.
But we've endured! The light of civilization is not so easily extinguished. We've seen the barbarians at the gates, and they are us, and we beat them back. Understand this, all right? We've won the war. What is there for the Enemy to lose but their lives? What have we lost?" Yang laughed coarsely. "So much. So many. What have we gained? The burden of carrying on in their memory."
Yang was a bitchy drunk. Apparently.
"... we're fighting a war we don't understand. And what kind of war is it when there's no way to even guess as the enemy's remaining forces? No one wins a war just by staying on the defensive. Wait, didn't I say this already?" Yang waved as if shooing a fly buzzing near his face. "This isn't a war. This is a SEIGE. We are under seige. It's not for any small reason that you people are calling Tokyo-3 a Fortress City, isn't it?"
Yang smiled and waved at Misato. She crossed her arms and glared back. The others were looking pleasantly surprised.
"If we look at the records of the Angel attacks, most of them are directed against Tokyo-3 and NERV, and now we know the reason why. There is an Angel far beneath the geofront. Considering what we know of the Angels and the destructive power of their AT-fields, just -giving- them whatever the hell it is is a gamble. Will it make them go away? Or will it fulfill whatever unknown imperative that drives them to attack and attack without regard for their own survival? We just don't know. In fact, the only insight we have on the motivations of the Angels come from... an Angel hybrid. Kaworu Nagisa.
And really, what's the difference between Nagisa and Ikari? This is a strange time we live in, if boastful boys can move nations." Yang tapped the side of his head.
Yang squinted at the gathered throng of various public figures. He could see it, how so desperately they longed for some third option. "The power of the Evangelion is like cursing ourselves with awesomeness. We can live just fine without it, the same way the human race has deserved its success with its own pain and suffering and learning from our mistakes, but we can't SURVIVE now without them.
Do we have the luxury of asking why the hell is this happening? Do we have room to start throwing blame? Listen, Japan holds Tokyo-3, and is in the greatest danger. Germany, and most of Europe, lost cities and most of their armies. The UN NAVY was gutted of most of its heavy ships, which doesn't make me as happy as others may think. But it is China that has suffered the most. Berlin-2 was wiped off the face of the Earth by nuclear fire. Beijing-2 was completely -removed-, and the skin of our world will bear that scar for millions of years! Tsunamis kicked up by the impact bounced around the Yellow Sea. Haven't you looked at the sky lately, seen how much redder the sunsets are from the dust kicked into the air? The world's temperature has fallen by several degrees!
All of this because there was Evangelion production facility there. It's a good thing the site for the new capital was deep inland. If it was closer to the coastline, the waves would also have scoured this city, just like Second Impact."
"Goddamit, Yang. You did put the new Chinese capital at what used to be Shenyang." Kaji muttered. "Did you know something like this might happen?"
Yang smiled thinly. "But to hit Beijing-2, why couldn't the Angel just have aimed a little further east and just hit Tokyo-3? Isn't it terribly convenient that we're being systematically deprived of defenses against Evangelion-class threats? It's just... fortunate... that China has moved most of her heavy industry higher into the Yellow River and deeper inland. The armies and the fleets were moved to bases in the south or up at the Manchu border.
And I have a lot of reasons to feel suspicious and resentful."
And suddenly Yang was a good deal less amusing. The room stilled. Kaji groaned and wished he could bang his head on the table.
Yang laughed again. "Oh, the look on your faces! Seriously, can you believe it? I'm all but accusing NERV of commanding the Angels themselves, and that's a ludicrous proposition. There are too many mysteries, and do you think I should get my answers by tearing open NERV's vaults? Hahah.
Surprise is good for taking a tactical victory, but strategically? What worked at Port Arthur failed against Pearl Harbor. We live in a world where popular opinion and industrial output can be shaped much more easily. I certainly have no... illusions... that weapons and manpower alone can even start to try and pacify other nations." He grinned. "Specially not THIS nation with its own Evangelion.
Yang raised his hand. "But there isn't an Evangelion active right now at NERV. How so terribly convenient too." Yang shrugged. "I suppose I could take this speech to list the reasons you all suck, but this is a horrible situation with no easy solution. I'm relieved... relieved, I say, that I'm not the one in charge of getting us out of this collosal fuckup.
I'm reminded, you see, of the seige of another city. That city was named Troy. The most obvious moral we have from that ancient story is to beware your enemies who bear gifts. Even until the Romans, this story was accepted, if distant and murky, as fact. In modern times it was no more than myth, until following the hints in the text someone found Troy.
It's popular now in history to view old myths as retelling of legends, overblown accounts of what once may have happened, or at best illustrative examples of the morality of the times. It's easy to paint the Trojan Wars as if political and economic reasons drove it; even the text says that Helen was but mere excuse for launching the invasion. If you look at the location of Troy, it sits to command the strait leading into the Black Sea, and therefore trade into Europe.
Say, did you know that there is a period in history known as the Dark Age of Antiquity? Also known as the Bronze Age collapse, in quick order civilizations that stood for thousands of years, all burned, all gone, and darkness fell upon the world. As a historian I'm interested in just how quickly civilization can turn upon itself. So complete was the destruction that writing itself disappears from the Western World.
Of this period the only glimpse we have are scattered fragments.
The Fall of Troy is a record of this time of decline. So, no, it's not just some trade war. In the end, it's not external factors that drove them, unless it's how the many pockets of independent city-states fueled their petty wars. The reason why is the same as ever. War never changes. For pride, for greed, for revenge, for glory- war and more war. For loot and slaves, not to secure grain for the dwindling city-states; the Illiad is the tale of the last gasp of the old order."
Yang paused, wondering if he should make a comparison between the centralized governments of Egypt and China, the former was the only civilization that managed to beat back the night by a full hundred years before weaker pharaohs finally fractured the Kingdom. China, for all the many wars that consumed her over her own existence, never darkened so thoroughly. He'd always had a soft spot for Ancient Egypt; like the Middle Kingdom, one that developed on the banks of a great river, and one that needed only itself, ever-enrapturing and entrapping its own conquerors.
There was a lesson there, in how the Romans shattered Egyptian pride and their culture were eventually forced under by a revolution. Oh, if only the Manchu had known! Yang chuckled again. 'Wait, am I saying this out loud? No?' "Good." he said.
He stood there silent and motionless long enough for some to think the speech was over. Dr. Miharu was the only one showing any interest to Yang's historical detour. Most of the foreign guests and correspondents got the reference, but it was a story not quite so popular in the Orient.
It was rather flattering, actually. Who was the intended audience of this piece? Just because it was said in a publicity dinner in Japan was no reason that it couldn't be taken and printed/shown elsewhere in the globe. Yang's 'boss', officially speaking, was the UN Security Council.
Yang blinked, and coughed into his fist. "Excuse me. Where was I? Ah, yes- why am I saying this? Have you noticed how those who act with the assurance they will end up being vindicated by history end up being condemned by it? I don't want to be a Cassandra, speaking warnings that end up being ignored or fulfilled anyway." He supposed he could have referenced the many sieges during the times of Shu, Wei and Wu, but historically they led towards eventual unification instead of a pointless last stab of self- gratification even as civilization burns.
"Right now, you can often hear that it's the time for humanity to come together if we want to survive this conflict. But really, what the hell does that mean? To put aside our differences and work for a common goal? Aren't we already doing that? Among those who like to say this is a boy, is a proponents of hive-like Unity, who has just split the human race across the species line rather than just old grudge pools of gender, skin color and culture. Are we supposed to come together under one banner? One government?" His smile was distinctly unfriendly. "Or is it that a certain group shouldn't act so alone and above it all, and decide for everyone else?
It's easy to call for commonality and equality, but far harder to actually even start to list the obligations for each of the people! To act without understanding why, to give without knowing the results; that is to trust. That is to have faith in something else. Is that a virtue or the beginning of abuse?
To NERV, to the Japanese government, to the United Nations, I'm saying this: look beyond your goddamn justifications and for whatever act you make this from this point on; beware the glitter of hubris! Look at the writing on the wall, you morons! Something dragged out of a sinkhole at the middle of a frozen wasteland is no basis for a system of government! The possession of an alien carcass is not having avenged ourselves."
Kaji perked up at this. Who gave Yang the impression that it was Adam that was underneath Tokyo-3? Someone had given Yang, and by extension those who Yang trusted with the information, the plausible yet utterly wrong conclusion that Impact was the seed event of an alien race trying to (explosively) terraform Earth into one more suitable for their existence. Granted, it was that. But it was not an attack. Almost everyone believed that the Angels were aliens, arriving from the deep dark,instead of having been released by Adam and were just waiting through the years to mature.
Or Yang could be -lying- too, to manipulate the perception of others. That was not an mutually exclusive proposition, however. Kaji looked around again. One could manipulate while still being manipulated. It came with the territory.
"Already we're experiencing a paradigm shift in warfare. What purpose is served by men and machinery in a battlefield where titans walk, but to buy time? What meaning is left in the human struggle? There are those among you who would rather see the knowledge and the power of the Evangelions thrown down, the forbidden knowledge sealed away and forgotten, to let humanity take the stars with its own power.
I, personally, would rather the Evangelions never have existed. They're a product of Impact as much as our new society. What would we be like if that never happened? What sort of global community would we have? Would we still have war, or would we have outgrown such posturing in the global interdependency?
But we've been forced into... how they say... a catch-22 situation? If we don't make use of he might at our disposal, we're doomed. If we do, then unavoidably it will dominate our destiny. Just our recent history has seen technology shape our cultures, to the extent that we call periods the Industrial Age, the Space Age, the Electronics Age, the Information Age; in mere decade forcing paradigm shifts that once took many millennia – like the shift from Bronze to Iron to Steel to Gunpowder, to Sail! From here on it is the Age of the Evangelion.
Yang growled "We endured through Impact by refusing to let go of the light of civilization! The human race has achieved mastery over its world through the power of collective effort.
We tend to judge civilizations by the monuments they leave behind. When the United States left footprints on the Moon, despite that it stoked the envy and resentment of other powers, it was at least a triumph for all mankind. Even nuclear technology can drive progress and international parity; certainly even I recognize that the prospect of MAD is and remains a cornerstone of 'good behavior' for competing nations. The November Treaty is a good enough reaffirmation of that fact.
But Evangelion technology, never under Heaven have ever dreamed of such a perfect tool for enforcing inequality. The massive industrial requirements needed for the construction and maintenance of Evangelions ensure that only nations capable enough of deploying suffient amounts of conventional arms can afford to shift paradigms. The advantage builds on itself.
Sanctions? The hell with sanctions! If there's someone misbehaving and making WMDs, an Evangelion is big enough to just go there and rip that factory right out of the ground. The only threat you can do with a nuke or any biochemical weapon is in using it; actually using it would void its utility. An Evangelion is a Weapon of Discriminate Destruction- it can either devastate whole swaths of countryside or just just selectively step on irritants.
The only thing that can threaten an Eva is the threat of nukes, not at the Evas themselves but in cities- they can't protect them all simultaneously." Yang stopped and winced. "Unless you're Shinji Ikari, because we've seen the boy stop orbital strikes worldwide with homing lasers. Damn it, we're just seeing the book on Evangelion tactics and strategic use being written- how so damn unfair it would be once complete!
The only nations who can afford Evangelions are those nations with enough nuclear stockpiles in the first place to deter unrestricted Evangelion operations! Don't you understand? We have from here on only the choice of standing under a hegemon, or let Evangelions proliferate to the point they form the center of all policy. Should we treat Evangelion pilots as heroes or tools?
Should a nation invest in anti-Evangelion weapons and defenses, since unlike an ICBM the sheer size and expense of an Eva means only so many can ever be usable? Should Evangelions remain, as now under NERV's purview, as strategic UN assets or do nations even have a right to control the very giants that are housed in their lands?
It all comes down to the matter of trust. The moment of Second Impact was like opening Pandora's Box, spreading evil and illness across the world. The Eva can be the Trojan Horse tempting us with the promise of ultimate victory.
Who can we trust with this power? Have we matured enough as a people, as species, to handle this much responsibility? Our virginity as a race is gone. As big as Evangelions are, the universe is bigger still. And that's where they came from! The Angels are powerful and frightening, Kaworu Nagisa and Gendo Ikari and unpredictable -assholes- and can we afford to remain in constant war footing? We can even see where it starts, now how- of all that live under Heaven- where does it end?"
Yang was gesturing wildly now, jabbing out with his arms to punctuate his words.
"I am not an optimist." the strategist said numbly. "Human nature to me is neither naturally good or evil, but circumstances can be pruned to limit the temptation to do harm. We need less Great Leaps Forward, but maybe more careful Hands Carrying Stones.
I don't trust NERV. I do however, trust Misato Katsuragi."
"... say what?" Misato eeped. Despite that Yang and Katsuragi lived in the same city, they did not really interact all that much. Hell, they could not be said even to be acquaintances; outside of formal functions and strategic meetings, they had little in common. Or perhaps too much in common, since both were likely to lounge around rather than do paperwork.
Kaji just sighed. "Careful, Misato. He could be telling the truth, but just now we already know Yang is a fucking liar." He looked around and smirked at the changed expressions of those expecting weird but happy-go-lucky Professor Yang. "Not good at speeches my ass. He's not reading this off a prepared script."
"Is there really much difference between a speech and a lecture?" Misato whispered back.
"Why Katsuragi? Why not Ikari? What can she do?" Yang continued with a thin smile. "I don't trust those who say they fight for the world, since that has been the goal of conquerors since, well, ever. It's easy to love a nation so much that you can lose sight of its people.
Katsuragi is interested only in preserving NERV, and quite frankly while I don't trust NERV there is far less ability for it to abuse its powers than anyone else with longer ranges self-interest. I trust those who fight for the people they know rather than for the grand abstract.
Katsuragi... would you save your own precious people from themselves if it ever became necessary?" Yang waited for her to nod and gave a sickly grin. He laid both arms flat on the podium and stared off into the distance. "And that is why I would prefer to let it go.
You can all feel it can't you? For some reason, it's like we're so close to the End Times, we've almost done it. Is it enough to survive? Is it even possible to achieve victory here? I can tell you that it's so easy, so ridiculously easy to lose it all. Clench your fist and shatter the peace. Let it go, the weight of fear and self-interest, and receive the bounty of paradise. Open your hand and let this golden apple, the power of the Evangelion, fall to the ground and let it take root and grow on its own terms. What makes us human is being challenged. I'm not ashamed to say I'm nearly frightened out of my wits.
Wait, did I say nearly? I meant completely.
As a private citizen now, I can only implore you all; let it go. The future is not a prize to be won. Old fears, old prejudice- new secrets, new sins. I can only beg you to remember us little people who stand in the shadow of giants. There are those who just want to be able to live out their lives in relative peace and comfort.
There are those who despise that people can feel contentment. For all that Nagisa and his immortal Unity loathe the mediocrity of man, he is trapped by the past. Denying history, trying to wipe it clean. And I live at Tokyo-3 now. I've seen how it uses up lives and dreams like coal for the forge.
If we cling too tightly to the old order, we'll break alongside it.
I'm just one man now and my voice is weak, but as long as I live I'm going to believe that there is still meaning in the struggle. I'm afraid of the time when Heroes walk, when the partnership of nations devolve into Warring States, and instead of inspiring us to be better, raw power just inflates man in every vice and virtue.
A world where Heroes walk is frightening indeed. Even I want to stop that unfair world from appearing. If one does not have wisdom to know when to set aside the burden, at least we can take comfort in giving it to someone who will not benefit from its use."
"Isn't that still egotistical, Yang?" Kaji whispered, shaking head good-naturedly. "Everyone knows you stepped away from the Dragon's back. So you're saying only someone like yourself deserves the power of NERV? Or really, just yourself."
Yang could not hear it. "I haven't touched on other points of friction like... like... psychic asshattery, moral quandaries from cloning and the fact that one of our enemies are made out of functional immortals, or who was that mysterious girl? In the spirit of openness, I'll say that I received a note about the MP Evangelions- they look like the ones being built at NERV China... which were never put to the field since the area destroyed by an orbital strike. NERV America too had put on hold their Eva production facilities until a safer S2 Engine could be devised. Where the hell did these fully-functional Evangelions come from?
We were hit by a big damn laser FROM THE MOON. Who the hell has a moon attack base? If it's NERV, then how the hell did they manage to -cloak- that many lift launches? That's not even possible- the only time when no one was paying attention to whatever may be in space, was just ater Impact.
Let me rephrase that. Tokyo-3 during the assault was hit by a laser that writes -runes- that makes -magical forcefields-. So we're looking at some sort of third column, other than the Angels and the Unity, after whatever is there under Tokyo-3.
Aah!" Yang scratched at his tangled hair. "Questions! Mysteries! Puzzles that take up time and attention! That's why it's hard to let it go. The big unknown may be that which will kill us all. NERV is at its weakest right now, and force once needs our protection instead of the one protecting.
He took deep calming breaths and raised his arms straight out. Yang opened his palms. "Let it go. Open your hands to help others up to their feet." Suddenly he closed them again. "Or the Way of the Closed Fist will crush you."
Kaji slapped his own face. He groaned out loud.
Misato whistled approvingly. "Way to contradict yourself, Yang." The way of the Open Palm and the Closed Fist were names for how he used the People's Liberation Army. It -could- have been meant as a larger larger metaphor, but... "Heh. I still don't know if I'm supposed to be flattered or insulted."
It was a pity about both being reclusive, but she had a feeling Yang and Ritsuko would get along really well.
Yang walked away from the podium and snapped his fingers. A waiter approached, carrying drinks. Yang began downing cocktail glasses one after the other.
=][=
It was perhaps one of the most iconic images of Angel Wars. Yang Wen-li had the hotel prepare a suite for him, he wouldn't be returning to Tokyo-3 that night. He could remain in the ballroom for as long as he wanted. As the dinner wound down, Yang was to be found again by the large picture windows overlooking the sea.
The picture showed Yang and Kaji both in black and holding cocktail glasses regarding each other with bland but competitive gazes. Misato in her brown dress uniform stood
comparatively bright and cheerful between them. There was never any love triangle there, but who could resist inserting a little intrigue into it?
"Yang, you ass!" Misato said, punching Yang lightly in the arm. "What the hell was that about?"
"I agree. That speech was all over the place, Yang-sensei." Kaji added with a friendly grin. "That bit about the Trojan Wars went over most heads, I think."
"I was kind of drunk at the time. In fact, I'm rather more inebriated right now than when I started, so... shut it, Ryouji."
Misato laughed, then looked looked down. She felt like a schoolgirl again, looking for approval. She had a distrust for authority figures, never allowing grades to define her worth (which was part of why Ritsuko had to nag her into studying), but she couldn't help but to feel always being compared to Yang, the definitive military mind of her generation. "For what it's worth... thank you."
"Don't be too grateful just yet, Colonel Katsuragi." Yang replied with a thin smile. "It's for the sake of world peace that it's best your powers and responsibilities are limited." He stared out into the sea. "I'm not exactly your ally in this. Just like all your main priority is protecting NERV – as its people, not the apparatus- all that I do is what's best for China. As long as I live, you'll never reach your true potential."
"So what's your excuse for eleven years ago?" Kaji asked.
"Obviously because the time was not right for a Chinese hegemony." Yang replied with another thin smile. "Unlike young Ikari, you know that you can't save everybody just by plowing on with sheer willpower or overawing your enemy with military might. Our main issue isn't with interfering with your decision-making process, but in the denial of information that could be used to save lives elsewhere."
"What the hell do you people want me to say? It's not like we get any advance warning of Angel attacks!"
"No, but then NERV could also be a lot more effective if it didn't have to do everything in-house." Yang shrugged. "Take it from someone who experienced it first-hand; under the veil of secrecy, it is only sins and abused that can flourish, not virtue. Ever has the control of information been the tool of growing tyrants."
"That won't happen." Misato said with finality.
"Doesn't that bother you, Misato? Acting without information can be fatal, you know this." Kaji paused and added gently "Gendo's gone and stabbed us in the back. You still trust Ritsuko after all that?"
"After all what? Saving our skins again and again? Kaji, what's wrong with you? Ritsuko's made some bad decisions, but... she's not -evil-, dammit."
Kaji had to chuckle at that. "You scare the piss out of a lot of people, you know that?" At her faintly confused (and in his mind, utterly adorable expression- maybe that's why we like doing it?) expression, he added with a wry grin "People trust you with their lives, not their secrets. Which is more important?"
Yang took a sip of his drink and nodded approvingly. "Has the young Ikari woken up yet? You're going to have to make a lot more unpopular decisions before we're through this bloody Game."
He looked outside and raised his glass, as if to toast the distant uncaring moon. Or perhaps in mockery to those he knew lay huddled in fear beneath its surface.
Misato shrugged. "Meh. It's not like I give a damn about popularity anywa-"
The glass shattered. Misato felt hot liquid splash on her face. She reached up to touch to wipe it off and saw red on her fingertips. The sight before her seemed to refuse to register in her mind. There were a few seconds of sheer disbelief, and then around her the screaming started.
As Security grabbed and began to pull them away from the window, Kaji numbly stared down at the glass of white wine in his hand. The liquid was turning pink from blood and bits of bone that fell into it. He tipped the glass over and let the wine fall, leaving a wet trail.
'Such a waste.' Kaji thought without any real sadness.
=][=
=][=
'Let it go' could very easily became 'Let us go'. In Tokyo-3, Captain Avrikupolous of the mercenary guard Custodes kissed his wife and readied to leave. His son was grinning hugely. His father was going out in armor again. A shining gold giant. How could any son be anything but proud? It was worth being taken here to this foreign land where the people talked funny and the food was often too bland.
Avrikupolous couldn't say just how uncomfortable it was to remain inside the armor for far too long. Powered Armor development leapfrogged comfort and sustainability for sheer armor thickness and enough assistance to carry a big gun. Now he'd have to stay in it all but 24/7.
He grinned and ruffled his son's hair. It was a great risk bringing his family to Tokyo-3, but here at least he knew he would be defending them with his own two hands.
"You're probably going to be asked to go into the shelters soon. Be good in there, all right?"
=][=
=][=
Shinji Ikari was starting to recognize he was spending more and more distressing amounts of time unconscious. Damage to the body was easier to heal than damage to the mind. He wondered how long he could keep on pushing his mortal psyche before being devoured by the timeless anger of machine-god.
What dream-world lay behind his slumber? Did he find peace in there, or more nightmares?
As it turned out, a little bit of both.
Shinji walked down the streets of a completely empty city. For all the deaths and dangers that Tokyo-3 suffered, this was just wrong. It was a city that lived! It was not supposed to be this dead shell. His memory whispered indistinct threads of conversations that should be there, at the edge of his vision flickered the shadow of crowds. Just like the city itself, he was nothing without the vibrant energy of humanity to use him to fulfill their purpose.
Just waiting for something to happen was lot creepier than facing up to sights that would drive most people insane. He, as a person, was loved and was capable of love.
The silence pressed down on his gut. He was not afraid of ghosts or the paranormal per se, but this dreaded emptiness... this was how normal people felt around haunted places, right? Loneliness was terrifying. It was, in some way, quite a comfortingly normal fear.
And then suddenly from the middle of the street a great armored hand broke out, like cursed undead from the mass grave. The boy foung his breath being squeezed out of him, and being lifted high as hellish eyes glared at him from the chasm. He sighed. Somewhat better.
He was caught in the grip of Evangelion Unit-01. The Eva's eyes glowed green, its maw was open in a grin, and unshorn of its armor it was nothing short of demonic. It was a sight that could drive most minds to whimpering terror. It was burning existence that tugged and threatened to tear apart the mere little lights of man.
'Should it be grateful?' its feelings tried to convey. 'Just because they both sated their bloodlust on difficult enemies, was that enough to make up for the pain of living?' They were both beings that should not be.
The boy would never be able to impress his own Evangelion. After all, most of the crazy shit they did, was by its AT-field. The Eva did not give a damn about politics or ideals. Their existence alone was a sin. Its meager consciousness knew that Shinji planned on growing more even more Evangelions, using them as the core of mankind's superluminal civilization. More born into this torturous half-life.
Shinji crossed his arms. "The next generation will likely have more cybernetics. They'll have a shared matrix, and maybe someday we can safely bring out their Angelic states so they can exist in external forms. The day when pilots and Evas will no longer be separate will come...
But not now. You're in pain. I'm in pain. Suck it up, you big baby. We've got a war to win." Relationships? That was scary. Ancient horrors were just -work-. After all, the worst they could do was just to kill him. This did not please the bestial need to dominate reality that was an Angel's instincts.
The Evangelion roared, its breath with the force of a cyclone. Shinji's face flopped in the wind. When the Eva stopped, his hair was sticking out in wet spikes pointing back. Purplish drool hung like ropes off his shoulders.
Battle after battle and the weirdness that was his life, he was just so damn tired. "I'm too young for this shit."
0
And then his vision burst out in many colors. Pain flooded his awareness.
Shinji Ikari woke up to Misato Katsuragi straddling him, with Ritsuko Akagi and Maya Ibuki keeping careful watch nearby. Ah. Truth be told, he'd been expecting something like this to happen one of these days.
"Wake up!" Misato screamed and slapped his face again.
"Ow! Okay, okay! I'm okay! You can stop now." the boy moaned. This was too weird it just had to be real. Just then he realized that Misato was still in her dress uniform.
Her eyes were red and wild, and there was a despairing grimace on her face. "What-... is something wrong?"
"Yang's dead." Misato spat.
"Oh gods, we are so fucked."
"That was my reaction too." Maya said with a nod.
=][=
o
o
o
Really, very VERY sorry for deleting this chapter last month in a fit of disgust at my own circular writing. I had to retcon away and lay more foreshadowing for the next definitely more action-packed chapter. Slashed away whole passages of wangst masquerading as characterization. Yang's speech could still be cut in half, but I felt it was better to leave his rambling as it is as a summation of global feelings in the setting.
It's been a serious hassle reformatting the rest of this story from the start. Originally the formatting was to preserve a book-like appearance but now in retrospect it's just author conceit. :(
Ah, well.
Play Fleets please. I owe those guys and I'd like to keep my knees thank you.
