For all its infamy, Second Impact did less to change the world than mankind itself. When faced with disaster, humans respond in the only way they know how: by turning on one another. For months, entire countries were embroiled in anarchy as communities competed over electricity, water, food, and gasoline. Governments were only able to restore order by pointing the finger at the rest of the world. The squabbles over resources became full blown wars between major world powers. Historians have thus far refused to give the post-Impact crisis a single identifying name because in reality, it consisted of a handful of smaller wars. There were no two sides in the conflict; it was every man for himself. Still, some civilians insisted on calling it World War III.
The United States, Russia, China, Japan, Great Britain, and Germany were among the nations that managed to hold themselves together in the initial post-Impact world, though they fought fiercely with one another for nearly a year. It seemed like the beginning of the end when the first nuke was dropped on Old Tokyo. For a brief moment, the entire world burned. Tokyo, Washington, D.C., Berlin, Hong Kong; all the great cities of the world were flattened.
Then came the Peace of Valentine's Day. It was decided by the nations of the world that rebuilding civilization was far more important than destroying one another based on past relations. Humanity held its collective breath as troops were recalled. The dust settled and was never stirred up again. No one had really wanted war in the first place, or, at least that's what they all told each other. The increased strength of the United Nations was a testament to this. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and looked onward towards fixing the shattered world.
While most countries set about rebuilding their destroyed infrastructure, Japan chose an altogether different route. Having been forced to abandon the ruins of Old Tokyo, now mostly submerged following the nuclear strike, they government decided to simply start over from scratch. Any city that sustained serious damage was torn down and completely rebuilt. Hiroshima became Hiroshima-2, despite attempts to name it Hiroshima-3. Yokohama became Yokohama-2. In need of a new capital, Matsumoto City was rebuilt as Tokyo-2. Only Kyoto, the ancestral capital and home to the Emperor, escaped a renaming.
Osaka-2 was another of the rebuilt cities. Unlike most, it had sustained much damage during the fighting. The Osaka City Council, instead, decided on enacting a large-scale modernization project in conjunction with the rest of Japan. All structures that were outdated pre-Impact were simply torn down and rebuilt in the same location. The layout of Osaka-2 was nearly identical to Old Osaka, except for the outer areas where the city expanded. This was unlike the other cities of the Rebuild Project, which were completely redesigned starting with the street layout.
Osaka-2 had so far maintained its status as the center of Japanese economy. In a world that had largely rejected the decadent consumerism of the late twentieth century, Osaka-2 was one of the last holdouts of carefree lifestyle enjoyed by many in the years preceding Second Impact, although now it was mainly a playground for the rich and powerful, having freely embraced the derisive nickname "the Japanese Vegas" given in recent years. Osaka-2 differed from Las Vegas in that prostitution remained an illegal activity, although the issue appeared in council every year. Each time it slipped closer and closer to legality.
Ariadne was only thirteen at the time of Second Impact, so only a handful of memories concerning America before the wars started, but her visit to New York City was a prominent one, if vague. The Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the World Trade Center, Broadway; all were buildings that represented the pinnacle of human achievement. Most of her other memories consisted of moving from place to place, from East Coast to West Coast. As much as she hated all the moving around her parents did when she was in grade school, she supposed she was thankful now that she got to see as much of pre-Impact America that she did. Not only are cities like New York and San Francisco underwater, but seeing the tall, marvelous skyscrapers fueled her interest in architecture following Second Impact. All that ultimately lead her to Cobb and a job doing things she never dreamed possible.
Osaka-2 was a striking reminder of a world that no longer existed: skyscrapers that gleamed with the light reflected off thousands of polished windows; flashing neon and electric signs advertising everything from food and clothes to cars and weapons; the constant stream of pedestrians clogging the streets, preventing any vehicles from getting anywhere quickly. That was something she remembered distinctly her parents telling her about New York: no one who lives in the city has a car. It struck her as a paradox at first, until she understood.
Neon Psychosis Evangelion 04
Sin City, Part 1: City of Lights
The team of five was riding an old locomotive through the city, like those used in Tokyo-3. The high-speed monorail had left them at the edge of the city, where they had to switch to a more traditional ride to get into Osaka-2 proper. Eames, sitting in the center seat between her and Yusuf leaned over and whispered into her ear, "This is Osaka-2, darling, not Osaka-7; you won't find any giant fighting robots here."
Arthur chuckled from his seat in front of her. She turned around and punched him on the leg. "Don't encourage him," she scolded with a smile.
"Would you rather I fought with him, or agreed with him?"
Ariadne slumped back in her seat with a sigh. "Insufferable, isn't he?" Eames whispered loudly.
Fighting back a moan, Ariadne once more turned to the window. "For your information, Eames, I was studying the architecture of Osaka-2 for when we nab this Kretzer guy. Assuming we're going to place him in an Osaka-labyrinth, I want the architecture to be as close as possible to the real thing. Obviously I can't copy real places, but if I get it close enough, it'll take longer for his preconscious to become suspicious."
"Atta girl," Cobb nodded in recognition of her prowess.
"And you had your doubts," Arthur said to Eames.
"What? I said no such thing. He's lying, Ariadne. You're a liar and I don't appreciate such baseless allegations." They shared a smirk that let everyone know no animosity existed between the two. At least, not at the moment. Very easily those two could wear on each other. Over a series of Extraction missions, they had learned just how far they could push the other, which, as it turns out, wasn't really all that far.
Her concentration broken, Ariadne crossed her arms with a huff. "You made her angry," Cobb said to Arthur. "I'd watch out. She's more likely to hit you than Eames is." She flashed a triumphant smile at Arthur. Before he could retaliate, the conductor announced over the intercom that the train would be arriving at the station within the next ten minutes. Cobb leaned his head out into the aisle to make sure no one was coming. Satisfied, he pulled the door shut and produced a small device from his pockets which he set on the floor.
"Jams any electronic bugs that might have been slipped into the compartment," he explained.
"Is that likely?" Ariadne asked, eyeing the device as it emitted a low whirr.
"It's possible. Saito's colleagues are…a suspicious lot."
Eames snorted at the word "colleagues".
"Here's what's happening," Cobb continued. "Kretzer's flight from Kansai International Airport doesn't leave until the day after tomorrow, so we have about thirty-six hours to locate, drug, Extract, and turn him over to Saito."
"I thought Saito had spies trailing Kretzer?"
"He did, but Kretzer started acting paranoid, and he was forced to call them back.
Arthur spoke. "I think Kretzer is aware that he is being tracker, though he's not sure whom. In any case, he is on the lookout for people like us, which makes our job more difficult." He unfolded a map of the city that looked like he had picked it up at the last train station. "From what I've discovered, he spends most of his time in the central bloc, where all the casinos and bars are located."
"My specialty," Eames rubbed his hands together predatorily.
"Exactly. Eames, you're to spend most of your time in that area while keeping an eye out for Kretzer. When and if you do, you start following him, contact us, and we'll grab him."
"Hold on a tic. I'm to spend the next day and a half drinking and gambling?"
Arthur and Cobb shared an uneasy look. "That's about the long and short of it. Eames – "
"Don't work yourself into a tizzy, Cobb. I don't have a problem, not anymore. Now, do I have a budget?" Ariadne caught sight of a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Just don't bankrupt us," Cobb warned. "Even Saito has his limit. Use discretion, ok?"
"Oi, 'discretion' is my middle name."
"Really? I thought it was 'flamboyance'," Yusuf quipped, much to the astonishment of the others.
"Touché, Yusuf. Best watch yourself, Arthur, or Yusuf here'll give you some stiff competition."
"Oh, no. Sniping and bickering isn't my thing, but that one was just too good to pass up."
Cobb continued on without them. "Arthur, I need you and Yusuf to go to the hotel and secure our rooms. Find out who's going to be working the desk for the next two days and pay them off. I don't want to have to explain a bound and gagged Russian to the clerks."
"Rooms?" Ariadne asked. "How many?"
"Five," supplied Arthur. "One for each of us."
"Isn't that a little excessive?"
"Would you rather we all share a room?"
Ariadne, Yusuf, and Cobb all cast glances at Eames.
"You look at me, you bloody bastards. He's the smelly one." He jabbed an accusing finger at Yusuf.
"Because I'm Indian?"
"No, because you smell funny."
Once again, Cobb went on with the plan, knowing (or at least hoping) that the others would hear him over their own bickering. "Ariadne, you come with me as we scout the rest of the city. We don't have a van this time, which is for the best. We won't stand out as much."
"Are we really going to be able to find him in this heavily populated city?"
"He's a Russian in the middle of a Japanese city," Eames deadpanned. "Please assure me that you can tell the difference."
"Eames' areas are the casinos and bars. Ours is the shopping districts. If he's discovered that he is being followed, as Arthur suspects, he might try to change his image. Luckily for us, I know his face." A dark look crossed his face but he quickly shook it off. "Are we clear?"
"Clear," they chorused. Satisfied, he swept up the jamming device, switched it off, and hid it away.
"Are you going to be okay, Cobb?" Ariadne asked.
He paused halfway through the motion of opening the compartment door. "Yeah. I'll be fine."
Ariadne always thought people looked more suspicious when they were trying not to act suspicious. Part of being nonchalant was the natural aspect of it; when you acted normal, you came across as suspicious for acting normal. That being said, she thought she and Cobb were the most suspicious looking people in all of Osaka-2. Cobb was doing his utmost to appear a hurried businessman, the PASIV Device playing the part of a briefcase, but the small American girl tagging along behind him did much to shatter that illusion, at least in her eyes.
But then cloak-and-dagger wasn't her forte, so what did she know?
"Do you really have to bring that thing everywhere?"
Cobb glanced self-consciously at the PASIV. "Probably not; it's more a habit that anything.' He shrugged. "You never know, though"
"What? You're going to suddenly need to drug somebody and go into their dreams?" As ridiculous as the question sounded, she conceded it was a strong possibility considering the current situation. "Anyway."
In order escape the inevitable awkward conversation, Ariadne craned her neck to read the neon billboards that advertised various clothing outlets and restaurants. Her Japanese wasn't nearly as good as Cobb's or Arthur's, both of whom could speak and read it fluently, but she was able to make out most of what was advertised. Following Second Impact, many of the old name brand empires had died away as society rejected such mass consumerism worldwide; no one could afford it anymore. That paved the way for the return of smaller, local "mom and pop" businesses. Only in isolated areas like Osaka-2 could one effectively catch a glimpse into the past.
"It's eerie, isn't it?" Cobb remarked. "We're both old enough to remember the world before Impact, when all major cities were like this, but now it seems like a distant memory, as if that was the dream and Second Impact kicked us back into reality. It was so good back then, so peaceful. We didn't have anything to worry about. The world was constantly sitting on the brink of disaster." His pace slowed as he slipped in reverie. "I envy the people, Ariadne. I really do. Ignorance is bliss, as clichéd as that saying is. They don't have the threat of Angels hanging over them. As far as they know, everything is about as normal as it could be in the new world."
At first, Ariadne thought he sounded bitter at the world, but by the time he had finished talking, she realized he was mournful, but for whom she couldn't tell.
"I thought you always said not to get emotionally invested in jobs like this?" It was a cruel question and she knew it, but it would serve its purpose and make Cobb focus on the task at hand.
"That's true," he agreed. "Now you see how difficult it is to remain distant, especially in something like this. No matter what Arthur says…" There was more to that, but he let it hang.
"What does Arthur say, Cobb?"
For a moment, she thought he was actually going to explain something for once.
"Nothing. Come on, we have to find Kretzer before he skips town."
Damn.
Eames casually sipped his scotch and eyed his cards. His stack of chips at the blackjack table was the largest but not by a ridiculous margin. Years of card counting had taught him to never soar ahead of the competition. You drew the attention of the house that way and sooner or later they would discover you were counting. Not that it was strictly illegal, but it was…frowned upon.
He hadn't caught the name of the casino on the way in, but it had the largest, flashiest sign he had seen up to that point. That meant they had the most money and would do their damndest to make sure you didn't' get any of it. Disappointingly, the interior didn't stand out much in Eames' mind, not compared to Vegas, at least. But then nothing compared to Vegas.
King of Spades. Six of Hearts. A cursory glance revealed the other players screwing up their faces in frustration. Amateurs, he thought derisively.
"Hit me," he told the dealer. Four of Clubs. Eyebrows raised all around the table. Two of the others exceeded twenty-one and stormed off in a huff, taking their few chips with them. The other two played eighteen and nineteen , respectively. The dealer landed twenty, same as Eames.
"Dealer wins."
"Cheating bastard," Eames remarked as the man collected the cards and chips.
"It's my job," he replied with a shrug.
"That it is, my friend. That it is. Don't you worry, though: I'll be winning it back in the next round."
"You'll try," he said noncommittally. The man who had played eighteen sighed and gathered his chips, but his seat was quickly filled. In the time it took for the dealer to change decks, the two seats to Eames' right were also filled. Very carefully, Eames watched Kretzer with his peripherals. The Russian Extractor had taken the far seat, and kept glancing back over his shoulder.
Kretzer was just as Eames remembered: unkempt. The Russian's long, dark hair looked as if hadn't been washed in weeks. His beard was thick and poorly concealing bits of food. Eames thought he spied clumps of gum. He used the excuse of ordering another drink to get a full look. For a brief instant, Kretzer looked his way, though he didn't seem to recognize the Forger. His eyes were filled with madness.
Eames hardly paid attention to his cards during the next round, only just realizing that he had twenty-one. Kretzer cast another paranoid look over his shoulder but otherwise remained at the table. Deciding that he wanted to be able to follow the rouge Extractor out if he fled suddenly, Eames collected his chips and cashed them in. He ended up with over six thousand dollars worth of yen. Not bad considering he had entered with just over a thousand.
Carefully keeping a hand on his money, Eames took his drink to the bar, positioning himself where he could easily see Kretzer without appearing obvious. He smiled at himself; he was a much better spy than Cobb and Arthur combined.
Kretzer changed tables a few times during the day; Eames didn't carry a watch and the casino was designed in such a way (as were most) so that it was extremely difficult to determine the time of day from the inside, so he wasn't sure exactly how long he watched the Russian, but it felt like a long day. Finally, overcome by paranoia, Kretzer left the casino, leaving his chips behind. Eames finished his drink deliberately, and left shortly thereafter in no particular hurry.
The day had quickly become night while he gambled and spied, though the volume of the crowd didn't seem to have been affected in the slightest. Once outside, he dialed his cell phone for Cobb. "Allo, Cobb? Yes, it's Eames. Kretzer just left the…" He turned and read the name of the casino from the flashing sign. "I'm only a few minutes behind… He was acting awfully paranoid, mate. Had I followed any sooner he would have been onto me… No, you don't understand, Dom. Kretzer's fallen off the deep end. You didn't see his eyes: their wild. Whatever he's been up to since then, it's destroyed him… Right. Okay."
Eames shut the phone and broke into a run in the same instant. He pushed through the crowd, scanning over their heads for Kretzer. Several people shouted at him in Japanese but he wasn't thinking in that language at the moment, so any insults they hurled at him were as good as Styrofoam packing peanuts. Once he caught sight of the ragged Russian's head over the crowd, he slowed to a quick walk, enough to keep pace. All he had to do was follow the crazed man to the hotel where he was staying – if he was staying at one at all.
Fortunately, Kretzer was indeed staying at a hotel: a Hampton Inn. The Hilton Empire was one of the few to not suffer a complete collapse in the new post-Impact world. Everyone stayed at hotels; the world was their market.
Eames waited outside for nearly half an hour, simultaneously eating dinner at a restaurant across the street, an Italian place that let him eat on the patio. He paid with his some of his winnings. He called Cobb again. "Yeah…I got him."
The team met an hour later in Cobb's room to discuss the sequence for Extracting from Kretzer's mind. Eames' portrayal of Miles was proving to be the lynchpin of the entire operation, as there was no one else they could think of to whom Kretzer would willingly speak. Therefore, no one else would be able to determine the location of his information.
"What makes you so sure Kretzer will be willing to spill his guts?" Arthur asked Cobb, leaning forward in his chair.
"All of us trust Miles implicitly, Arthur. I do, at least. Back in the Institute, he was the only man who didn't view us a weapons or tools. There wasn't a student of his that didn't place absolute faith in the man."
"How well do you think that trust has survived the last decade or so?"
"Mine remains strong."
"You didn't see him, Arthur," Eames interjected. "He's completely wild. I was part of the Institute as well as Cobb, and I know Miles. Kretzer is going to break down in tears if he sees miles again, I think. You even said his ticket is for England, right? What other reason could he have for going there than to see Miles?"
"I still don't like it," Arthur remarked, spinning his pen. "We're relying too much on assumptions. I didn't have enough time to do a thorough investigation in Kretzer's recent activities. Had I been able to do so, we might have already known he was insane, as well as anyone else he's spoken to."
"Assumptions are all we have, Arthur," Cobb said. "We have to assume that Kretzer was going to see Miles in England, so we have to assume that only he will be able to speak to him." When Arthur didn't challenge him, he turned to Yusuf. "Do you have a compound that can subdue his preconscious?"
"Yes, but it dulls the sensitivity of the inner ear." He brandished a vial of yellowish liquid.
"So we can't kick back into reality if something goes wrong."
"Precisely. You have to wait out the timer, or get killed."
"Well, at least that's the same," Eames quipped.
"Why would Saito's employers want to stop Kretzer from speaking to Miles?" Ariadne had been holding her question for a long time. "I mean, didn't he used to work with them?"
Cobb leaned back and exhaled a long, slow breath. "That's a good question, but one that doesn't pertain to us. Our mission is to stop Kretzer from boarding that plane to England and Miles, and to find out what he knows. Maybe we'll answer the question in the process. If not, it doesn't matter."
"Assuming he is even going to meet Miles," Arthur tried to correct again. 'We don't know what he's doing. That's what makes this difficult. Without knowing what Kretzer has been doing, we can't guess what he will do once he gets to England. We have to assume he wants to meet Miles, but if that's not the case, then we don't have a backup plan."
"Yes we do."
Eames and Arthur both shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Ariadne and Yusuf shared a look of confusion; neither had any idea what Cobb was talking about.
"Would he really use that?" Arthur asked.
"Of course he bloody would, you twit," Eames replied without malice. "Saito's employer is going to great lengths to prevent Kretzer from getting to Miles. It's not inconceivable that he would be prepared to go all the way."
"But that's – "
"We're guessing at every level of this operation, Arthur," Cobb said swiftly, stifling the issue. "Nothing is certain right now, not Kretzer's goals, not Saito's goals, not Mile's role in this. But we have to assume the worst and that's exactly what we're going to do. If we fail in this, Saito is going to use it. I don't want that to happen to Kretzer, so that's what we have to succeed. Agreed?"
"Agreed," they chorused. Whatever it was that might happen to Kretzer, it sounded horrible. Ariadne was sure she didn't want it to happen to anyone, so she voiced her agreement, as did Yusuf. This was one of those rare times when she thought better of asking questions, partly because of the greater levels of secrecy involved, but mostly because she wasn't sure she really wanted to know.
"Right then. Are all the clerks for tomorrow bought out, Arthur?"
He nodded numbly. "Yes. No matter what time we drag him in tomorrow, nobody will alert the police. In fact, they might help us carry him up to the room if we ask."
"Let's not involve any innocents in this, eh?" Eames gave Arthur a reproachful stare.
"It was a joke." They shared a tense look and abruptly turned away.
"If we're all clear, then we should get some sleep," Cobb announced. They all nodded and stood, filing out of the room. As she left, Ariadne caught Cobb giving the PASIV a longing stare over his shoulder.
"Goodnight, Cobb," she said. "Don't get lost, ok?"
"Goodnight, Ariadne." He sounded sad, just like always.
Ariadne awoke sometime around two o'clock in the morning, and was unable to get back to sleep, so she dressed light and decided to take a walk around the block. This far into the city, the air was warm at all times of the day. She missed the winter. Some parts of the world still saw snow, but Japan hadn't had a proper winter since Second Impact. Right now, she would have settled for chilly, but no such luck.
This mission bothered her more than she cared to admit. She was used to the team maintain their secrets; she and Yusuf were relative newcomers to the team, having only been added once Cobb and Arthur fired their previous Architect, Nash, after he messed up some past job terribly. Yusuf was only picked up on the way to NERV a few months ago, when it became clear that they would be assisting in fighting the Angels. Slowly they had begun to open up about their past.
But this mission just held too many problems to sit comfortably with her. She had never imagined her architecture professor, Miles, would have been involved with Extractors and Mr. Saito. From what Cobb and Eames said, Miles once taught individuals how to navigate dreams. Why had he quit, then? Why was Kretzer trying to reach Miles? More importantly, why was Mr. Saito so desperate to stop him from getting there? What could he possibly know that Saito would want squashed? None of it made any sense and she didn't expect to become any clearer any time soon.
After she had walked the block several times, her legs were sufficiently tired to lead her back to the hotel. The clerk at the desk gave a slight nod. She returned it uncertainly. He must be one of the employees Arthur bribed. Rather than take the elevator, she decided to walk up the three flights of stairs, although it would put her at the other end of hallways from her room. She wanted to be tired when she lay back down.
The hall was deserted since everyone else was asleep, resting for the mission in the morning. Apparently, no one else had a problem with this. Or if they did, they weren't showing it. She passed Yusuf's room; Eames' room; Arthur's room…Cobb's door wasn't shut all the way. The deadbolt was engaged, but the door hadn't shut all the way before Cobb had thrown it. Curious, she pushed it open.
Cobb was slumped over in the armchair. The PASIV was open on the table next to him, the timer set to 7:30 in the morning. With a sigh, she slipped inside to make sure he was still breathing. Cobb twitched frequently, a sign he was indeed dreaming. While it was a decent temperature outside, inside the hotel, the air conditioning was on full blast, which made it chilly in their rooms. Ariadne pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Cobb before shutting the door properly behind her.
She flopped down on her bed and lay there guiltily for a few minutes before finally drifting off to sleep. Unlike Cobb, Ariadne could dream without the aid of a machine or drugs
The morning came far too quickly.