Part 5: Angels on Our Shoulders

Type IX Orbital Command Platform ''Magnanimous Hyacinth''

March 11th, 2016

''Commanders, attention!''

Renaril straightened, a fist over her heart in the time-honored salute. On either side of her, twenty-eight commanders, group commanders and master commanders did the same. Were they charged with anticipatory energy as she was, despite being called to muster at this early hour?

''Sisters and daughters, this is your moment.'' The counselor was a majestic woman with a kindly face that was starting to develop lines, marking her as one of an old age indeed. ''Today, we reveal ourselves to the forime of this world. It should go without saying that you will be acting as ambassadors for all Arume, and the eyes of three worlds will be on you as you go forward... Some of you are veterans of our campaigns in the second universal layer, and some of you are taking command for the first time. You will all have a great degree of freedom in choosing how you will deal with the forime in your respective jurisdictions, but wherever your duty sends you, you must remember this: we do not come here to wantonly conquer and destroy as we did in the past. We are no longer a dying race trying to seize one last chance for survival.'' The speaker turned, pointing to the blue-green sphere on the wall display at the head of the briefing room. ''The world below us is a world in crisis, a world which is already weakened and will tear itself to pieces if we do not intervene... And yet, in spite of their predicament these forime cannot be expected to welcome us without restraint. Do not expect your tasks to be easy, nor your rewards to be quick in coming.''

Renaril held her breath as the counselor stepped down from the podium and came to stand almost directly in front of her. Don't yawn, don't yawn, don't yawn..!

''Thanks to the discovery of this third layer, we have a chance to experiment, to take the paths we did not take fifteen years ago. I trust each of you will make the most of this chance... Dismissed!''

''Ren-chaaaaan..!''

Renaril flinched. Only one person would call her... ''Oof!''

''Nyaa,'' Mariel purred, clinging to the other's back relentlessly. ''Congratulations on winning the big assignment.''

''Congratulations to you too, Ma-chan,'' Renaril grunted, silently praying that the runt of a master commander wouldn't start tugging her ponytail or squeezing her breasts. ''Your theories of forime relations and governance seem to be vindicated.''

''I wish.'' Mariel's voice turned serious as she released her grip and fell into step beside the group commander. ''The counselor's speech was all very well, but I don't think many of our peers are on board with the idea.'' She eyed Renaril speculatively. ''How about yourself? China's a big deal, even if this planet's population is half what the other had.''

Renaril wished she could see this focused, serious side of Mariel more often. ''I think I'm up to it,'' she said aloud.

''Got any policy plans?''

''I'd rather wait until I've talked to their leaders and seen the situation on the ground up close before I go too far with that.''

''Good idea.'' At that point, the door at the end of the passageway slid open, revealing a vast shuttle bay. ''Guess I'd better run off,'' Mariel said. ''See you later, Ren-chan.''

''Yeah,'' Renaril replied, trying not to make her relief obvious. ''Later, Ma-chan.'' Left to her own devices, she looked around. One of these sleek spacecraft was for her use, she knew, but which?

''Excuse me, coming through...''

''Oh..!'' The group commander jumped aside as a fully laden equipment cart glided past her. ''Sorry,'' she mumbled, following it along. ''I was...'' Renaril blinked, recognizing the woman who guided the cart. ''Wait. You're Elaqebil's friend... Azanael, right? I didn't realize you were still in the navy.''

''I didn't either,'' the tall pilot explained, ''until two days ago. Right now I'm only cleared to fly cargo.''

''I see.''

''Something I can help you with?''

''I hope so.'' Renaril waved towards the shuttles ahead. ''Which one is going to Beijing?''

Three months ago, Renaril hadn't even known a third universal layer existed. Three months ago, all she could have looked forward to was a long career behind a counterinsurgency management desk. Three months ago, she would have envied Mariel for having the courage to do something different. What the Arume had taken twenty years to do in the second layer had just been accomplished in a mere ten weeks in the third. It wasn't anticipation alone that made the young officer giddy today.

Beebeebeebeebeep! Beebeebeebeebeep! Beebeebeebeebeep!

''Mmmph...'' A bare, slender arm reached out from the bed, fumbling about on the adjacent table for the source of the noise. ''Nnng..!''

Beebeebeebeebeep! Beebeebee - bip!

'''Ello..?''

''Good morning, Colonel. Sorry if I woke you.''

Misato bolted upright, the blanket falling to reveal a curvy torso. The voice coming through her cellular phone was rough with a pronounced American accent. It was a voice she hadn't been expecting. ''Where have you been..?''

''It doesn't matter... Listen, some aliens are coming to visit. Be polite, but don't trust them.''

''What?''

''Keep 'em off the refugees' backs and whatever you do, don't give in to any demands they make. Don't be cowed by their flashy magic tricks, either. If they ask about me, say I went into the private sector.''

''...I have no idea what you're talking about.''

''Put some clothes on and take a look out the window, then... Anyway, you'll understand soon enough. This will probably be the last you hear from me for a while. Take care of Shinji and the others.'' The call ended there, as abrupt as it had begun.

A scruffy head with an unkempt brown ponytail appeared at Misato's shoulder. ''Was that..?''

The well-rounded woman nodded silently, her above and beyond hungover brain trying to catch up with recent developments.

''Did he say something about aliens?''

''Yes, Kaji-kun, he said something about aliens.'' Misato swung her legs over the side of the bed and initiated her transformation sequence, becoming Colonel Katsuragi by the time she was standing upright. ''It's not fair,'' she mumbled, trying to remember where she'd flung her bra seven hours earlier. ''He disappears into thin air and we don't hear a peep from him for ten weeks, and now this happens. What do we tell Commander Ikari?''

Kaji was a couple of steps ahead in the dressing department. ''I'll deal with him,'' he said quietly. ''If anything strange is going to happen, you'll be needed in Operations.''

''Gah.'' Misato massaged her pounding forehead with one hand and dialed Nerv headquarters with the other. ''Hyuga-kun?'' she asked once the connection was complete. ''Please tell me nothing strange happened overnight.''

''Nothing happened last night, Colonel,'' the lieutenant on the other end replied. ''Why do you ask?''

''Don't ask,'' the colonel said with great finality. ''I'll see you in a bit.''

''Yo, Shinji! You're up early today!''

''Yes.'' There wasn't much the effeminate boy could say to that, beyond the obvious. ''Good morning, Kensuke.''

The freckle-faced armchair brigadier tweaked his glasses. ''You sound cheerful this morning. Kamikaze put the moves on you?''

''I haven't seen him yet,'' Shinji answered inattentively, looking around the school gates for a sign of the mute boy. ''Actually, Kaji-san came over and said he had to speak to Mother and Father. He looked very serious.''

''Ah.'' Kensuke's brow furrowed. ''That does sound ominous... Just a second.'' Quickly producing his multifunction camcorder, he set it to television mode, extended the antenna and peered into the eyepiece. ''Let's see if there's anything... on the... news..?'' Both boys looked up as a whine rose in the distance, growing louder until a sleek, bus-sized white craft came skimming low over the school roof. Kensuke spoke for both of those watching: ''Whoa!''

Shinji's first impulse as the strange vehicle swung around and descended towards the street was to grab his friend by the wrist and run for dear life, but the intruder was already settling onto four extended struts by the time he had gathered his wits enough for any definite action. Too late, he decided. I mustn't run away!

''Shinji,'' Kensuke whispered, ''what should we do?''

''Uh...''

Then the doors of the craft opened, and a group of women emerged. Their eyes were a milky blue, their hair various shades of white and their uniforms simple and form-fitting in a way that reminded Shinji of gymnasts' leotards. They looked around for a few moments before parting to reveal another woman. Unlike the rest, she wore denim cutoffs and a tube top, and the hair which reached almost to her waist was a brilliant green.

Nothing for it, Shinji decided, but to take the initiative. ''G-greetings,'' he said cautiously.

The casually-dressed woman held up a hand, palm outward and fingers split in the middle. ''Live long and prosper,'' she called cheerfully. ''Please take me to your leader!''

Shinji somehow wasn't much surprised by this development. A sideways glance at Kensuke suggested that he wasn't surprised either.

''Well, well.'' Anton 'Woodpecker' Zozulya nodded to himself as he perused the grainy printout in the red glow of the control room's operating lights. ''Comrades, the situation has gotten interesting.''

''You're taking it lightly,'' Captain Arkady Vinogradov remarked, shaking his gray whiskers. ''You were never this cocky before we went into the private sector.''

''Lightly?'' Woodpecker laughed softly. ''Why, I merely feel safe and cozy down here in your marvelous submarine, that's all.''

''Please remember,'' Vinogradov sighed, ''that our marvelous submarine is nearly thirty-four years old. TK-Two-Zero-Two is a reliable machine, but she is not infallible. Even with the missile tubes removed, there are plenty of things that can go wrong.''

''And yet,'' Woodpecker countered graciously, ''the commissar has faith in her.''

''Plus the money to back that faith up... So, what orders from the head office?''

Woodpecker looked over the printout a second time. ''Standing instructions are the same as before: proceed to Hong Kong and wait for the command to surface and unload the cargo.''

''Very well. What about our new, ah... friends? This vessel is quiet, but she is no Krasniy Oktyabr. We may not be able to hide from a thorough search.''

''I know, good Captain, I know... You still have the torpedoes and the small missiles, do you not?''

''For what they are worth, yes.''

''There you have it, then. Torpedoes at the aliens.''

''That's what the commissar would say, I'm sure.'' The captain made a wry face. ''Did he really place a bid on the Buran carcass?''

''Bid on it and won it... We already have the supporting Antonov, after all. I suppose he thinks there's a market in being able to deliver from orbit.''

''Or else he enjoys spending company funds on historic junk,'' Vinogradov complained. ''As if those tanks and cannon from the swamp weren't enough!''

''You're one to talk, Arkady Dazdrapertrakovich. Or is your submarine not historic?''

''You mock me, Anton Sergeyevich, but I will concede the point... Tolik, set course twenty degrees and bring us to cruise depth!''

As the ex-missile sub cruised northwards along the Vietnamese coast, the rays of the new day's sun swept westward across the face of the planet. The Arume followed in the light's wake, shuttles touching down in one capital after another. In New Delhi, in Moscow, in Berlin and in many others, messages of both hope and warning were heard:

Your country is a core of stability. Let us help you expand your influence and bring peace to this region.

Your country is falling apart, threatening the stability of your neighbors. Without our aid, your decline will bring destruction to all around you.

The Second Layer War began two days later.