I do not own the rights to Neon Genesis Evangelion, or any of the characters, equipment, or locations written in this fanfiction. The purpose of this fanfiction is merely for the non-profit enjoyment of other readers. If requested by Gainax, Hideki Anno, or other parties which represent aforementioned objects in this story, I will remove it promptly.
Chapter II:
To think, that was how it all started. Maya let out a slight smile as she stood in the train car in full dress uniform, right arm diligently gripping the leather strap dangling from the steel railing above. That was what was expected of her, of course. Passengers were supposed to handle the strap, not dangle like some kind of monkey from the bars, or worse yet, simply try to brace themselves against the vibrations of the tracks and disorienting motion of the train. Perhaps that was why she was only one of thirty-three back then to pass the readiness drills.
She followed orders, even the questionable ones, simply because they were rules.
It was unusual, she thought, that she would be called into work so early before her graveyard shift. It annoyed her, as she was planning to enjoy her day off doing... what? Ibuki cringed, feeling the cold air of the ventilation system blow, the whirring noise only a minor distraction from her thoughts. Truly, she still had no friends, and nothing to do. She could stay at home and play with her antiquated computer collection, each of the five machines old PCs and Macintosh units she had gotten for a real bargain through her old junior high. They weren't needed anymore, about to be discarded like so many other obsolete things, the things that reminded the world of the past.
But Maya treasured those things. The feelings went beyond simple nostalgia, of all the essays and projects she had typed out on most likely those five models that all sat in the school's library. Instead, they were a reminder to her of the time when there was no fear of being alone. Even with no friends, there was still time. There was always more time ahead of her than behind, all the time she needed to arrange her life the way she wanted it. When she ran her fingertips over those old, bulky keyboards and harsh contours of the slow, but still completely functional machines, she felt like she had gained more time. Not much, but enough to help her sleep at night.
But there was always the future. She had to remember that, no matter how bad things seemed in the present. After all, because she had proven, as Gendo put it, "that you are not entirely incompetent", she was introduced formally to Dr. Ritsuko Akagi. "Your background in artificial intelligence and computer science makes you adequate for the position of Dr. Akagi's assistant," the commander explained.
"Until now," Fuyutsuki said, taking over, "you have not been told the purpose of your station at the second command tier." The former professor walked out of the light, making him easier to perceive against the dark background. He stood out in all grays, Ibuki remembered, as if all his life were drained from him. "No one has! It was important to ensure total secrecy. Of course, that must have hindered what you had to do, but all we had expected of you was to flip the switches we told you, regardless whether you knew what they did or not." Kouzou paused. "Do you understand why, Lieutenant?"
"It is most likely easier to keep a secret if no one knows about it, rather than hoping they obey, is that right, Sir?" she answered as if reading the desired response from a textbook. She had learned somehow along the way to give the most comfortable, acceptable response, not necessarily the right one. Right answers were sometimes too harsh for the masses to handle, or the administrators behind comforting the masses. No, the military was a system, just like a computer. Right answers could be volatile, serving as distractions rather than useful data. What her superiors required, what her comrades hadn't realized, were comfortable answers. That is why she didn't complain, or truly speak her mind.
"Not quite," Ritsuko began, "but good answer." the doctor now pulled away from the light, again, like the professor, turning to grays, but of a much darker hue. "In truth, it was a psychological examination, the final examination, in fact, to select the primary service staff for NERV Headquarters, Tokyo-3 Branch. Those who were able to function under pressure, regardless of orders or their lack of information, are far more desirable for what our purpose is." Gendo gave the woman a stern look for her last response, causing Ritsuko to go suddenly silent. Akagi forced herself to remember her place, and the repercussions of her words. The commander was the deliverer of divine judgement, not God. He could deliver ultimate pain or pleasure to her, and she had experienced both with him, as her mother had.
"As such," Fuyutsuki continued, "you have the necessary background and passed our little examination." Maya started to smile slightly at this, until she felt a scowl grow on Ikari's face. She couldn't see it, because of the blinding light outside, but seeing just the pitch black void the commander formed in the way of that sunlight made her realize any human responses would not be tolerated while in this room. "As of sixteen-hundred hours, when all non-essential personnel have been removed for security purposes, you will be informed of the true extent of your position."
Maya realized she never had a chance. She wished now she had failed that examination, or that the train had somehow derailed, or had been delayed during the attack. As the alarm blared, the humanoid giant displayed on the main monitor after the N2 device had failed to stop it, she knew there was no way she could unlearn the truth. She would be the bringer of pain to all those who were capable of saving humanity from it's sins. She would be the whip in Gendo's hands to drive mankind on through the trials ahead, and she would be the one who would have to meet them, the saviors and slaves of their era.
•••••••••••••
He was weak, and he knew it. Shinji Ikari did not doubt his weakness, nor did he try to cover it up. But on days like these, he prayed to whatever pathetic creature in this world called itself God that he could have just a little more strength. It didn't need to be enough to move mountains, nor enough to bludgeon that thing that called itself his father. No, he just needed the strength necessary to live with the consequences of saying "no". "I'll pilot it!" he screamed into the darkness.
Ibuki was on the bridge when it had happened. She did not know how the Child was forced to take the other's place, nor his name. At least, she didn't know until after the battle, after the truth was revealed as she eavesdropped on Ritsuko and Misato during recovery operations.
"He would use another pilot, just to make his own son pilot Unit-01?" Misato asked in shock to the doctor. "Look, I know it's necessary for survival, but it's just..."
"Wrong?" Akagi asked, looking over her shoulder as she knelt on the catwalk, studying the portable terminal's results. The laptop worked frantically, clicking and humming as the data from the entry plug's recorders were transferred to the hard disk, then played back, first in real time, then at four times normal speed, up until the anomalous readings occurred. "Please, if I remember you, weren't you the one to first argue morality was unnecessary? Wasn't that the first time I caught you and Kaji-"
"THIS IS DIFFERENT!" the captain screamed, then switched to a hushed whisper. It was now that Ibuki thanked her parents for passing down their superb hearing. "This isn't like a wild night in the sack, Rits," Katsuragi explained. "This is about a human life!"
"If you remember utilitarianism, the good of the many outweigh the good of the few. At least, that is how a scientist perceives morality. Virtues are for the heroes who wield the weapons, not the people who design them."
"So it's alright just to force Shinji into playing the hero?" Misato barked. But why should she question it? Wasn't that the roll of the dice? Fate had dealt them a bad hand, and sometimes, the good cards had to be exchanged for the trumps that would get you through the game. That was how the rational person would play. There were no room for heroes in a war of attrition. There were no decisive maneuvers, no sudden bursts of courage and pride that would save the day. No, a hero wasn't needed, Misato realized. "You want him to play the butcher? He can't do that! He won't do that!"
"Then that is his choice," Akagi answered. "We will just have to locate another." Misato knew she was speaking to a brick wall that wouldn't budge, but she had expected more from her friend. In that conversation, Maya learned what she had both desired not to know, yet also dreamt she would eventually know, once her task was done.
"Shinji... Ikari?" she repeated in a hushed whisper.
•••••••••••••
The week of nonstop work had drained her. She opened the door cautiously to her apartment, the five days worth of dust slowly flowing out as the new, colder air rushed in to take place of the stuffy, hot air which baked while she was away. The cots at headquarters were uncomfortable to sleep in, though she would have preferred them to the limited two hours a night she had managed since that creature, that designated Third Angel, had been destroyed.
The first couple days went rather slow as the technicians fumbled over the schematics, trying to learn how to service the thing that had been completed nearly a year before, in total secrecy during her training under Dr. Akagi. In fact, she was one of the few who knew anything detailed about it's assembly, as her first day under Ritsuko's command had introduced her to the upper torso of the purple, humanoid, yet inhuman figure. However, once it was stripped down to it's organic components, most of which had just needed to be placed in that odd Link-Connector Liquid, stimulated with an electric current to heal the damage, the repair of the artificial components went smoothly. It helped that most of the technicians had come from serving on aircraft carriers or various air bases, all learning the steeds of their knights quickly, as a result of need.
In this case, Maya reminded herself, the title of "squire" was more appropriate. The constructs were more animal than machine, and the task of supplying power or putting the things to sleep in bakelite could be more naturally thought of us feeding or maintaining the stables. But Maya's task was focused on the machine components, or rather the interface between organic and artificial. After making her way to the dusty couch, finding the sun-faded packaging of the ancient DVD of "Camelot", the parallel between the pilots and armored knights of the medieval period surfaced again. Then her role became clear. "I'm the one who supplies the spurs... to the horse and the rider," she sighed, letting some tears slip past her eyes.
Numbly, she cooked the packaged dinner and canned vegetables over the electric stove, stirring occasionally while checking voicemail messages or ironing her uniform for another day ahead of her. She hadn't had time to wash it, but the command staff would understand. She had tried to keep it in as good a condition over this last week as possible, sewing any fraying edges and quickly dabbing the stains from the instant-noodle products during her short breaks during the refit of Unit-01. Those would hold, she reassured herself. They would hold just like Unit-01, until a proper servicing could be done.
"Just another month, maybe two," she breathed a relieved sigh. Talking to herself, Maya determined at an early age, helped her collect her thoughts. The brain was a scrambled mess of incoherent thoughts, all buzzing and floating to the surface of consciousness randomly. That thought noise was the price of true creativity in problem solving. As such, voice was the only way to block out the random messages via a feedback loop. "Unit-02 will be here, then we can take our time. I mean with another Eva, we don't have to rush to get the only one combat ready, right?"
But more Units meant more servicing, most likely round the clock. Ibuki grumbled, then rose to her feet , shut off the heat on the stove, ate her food at an uncooked but comfortably warm temperature, and let the bowl of mixed-together side dishes sit with her as she sprawled out on the couch. The lieutenant's eyes closed, remembering the name she hoped she would forget. "Shinji," she muttered, falling asleep. Why did she have to remember him, or Rei? It was so much easier to force them on when it was just "hey you," or "pilot of Unit-01".
It was funny she was thinking that, as on the other end of town, another person, a much younger person, was wondering the same thing. Ikari stared up at his unfamiliar ceiling, and wondered if he would soon have the strength to give up. "It's easier when they're nameless faces, not people you know," he mumbled over the S-DAT player's music.
It couldn't even be considered his favorite music. Rather, it was the one and only tape he could find of his old teacher's before he departed. The man knew how his ward hated the silence. Silence lead to recalling vivid, painful memories. Therefore, the S-DAT was an improvised gift, something handed out to try and make the pain stop through mental stimulation. The tape was simply a collection of pop music from the end of the last century, something the man's deceased daughter had bought long ago for another trip, the trip which the man had originally handed out the S-DAT player as a last-minute purchase.
It was funny, Shinji thought, how his former guardian had told him the entire story of the S-DAT player's history, and refused to explain the whole truth behind his father's work. "This must be a more comfortable truth to tell," Shinji sighed, closing his eyes. It didn't matter whether it was a pleasant soundtrack, nor a pleasant reality to live in. What mattered was that it was comfortable enough not to be completely detested. "Could be worse," someone would usually say in a situation like this.
End of Chapter II
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Okay, so a focus on both Shinji and Maya. Now the romance angle I'm shooting for should become a bit more clear as to the reader(s). At least, it will if the reader(s) are the type who watched the first "Underworld" movie, and picked up on the hint there would be a sequel (there will infact be a trilogy).
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