Disclaimer: No ownership over any concepts or plots expressed in this work of fiction is stated or implied. The author intends no financial gain from the distribution of this material and makes no claim of copyright or trademark.
S
Shinji stared up at Tokyo-3 High School with a certain apprehension. He had braved far greater challenges already, but there was a certain natural terror about filing in with the flow of students currently making their way into the building's gaping maw. The intent behind the architecture was probably a sense of serene orderliness, but to Shinji it looked less like some sort of public structure and more like an arcane temple to the slick, rounded, white-finished modern world. It fit in with Tokyo-3 but was alien to him, and made him feel a little lost. He quickly realized he was the only male student actually wearing his jacket, unbuttoned it, and threw it over his shoulder to fit in. He'd never seen so many people his own age gathered together at once. There were more students here than there were people that lived in the little town where he went to school.
He meandered into the crowd walking into the building and did his best to move with them, holding the folder Misato gave him in one hand, his other clasping his jacket. He earned himself a few stares bumbling along the hallway, glancing at the folder and at the signs on the wall in a feeble attempt to find the right room. Eventually he stopped, sighed, and squinted. The walls around him turned transparent, and he quickly found the room he was looking for and made a quick bee-line for it, a spring in his step and a quiet little smile on his face. Using his abilities frivolously didn't sit well with him, but he had to allow himself a little convenience now and then.
When he found the room, he was surprised by how few students there actually were. The room looked like it was designed for twice the capacity, with about four empty rows spread out through the room. There were a few knots of female students seated closer to the front, and a few groupings of male students towards the back, mostly chatting with each other in smaller clusters or pairs. A tall boy in a tracksuit was seated next to a shorter, slighter youth in glasses, picking away at a laptop. The older boy stared at him for a moment, tilting his head. Shinji paled and looked at the floor. He remember dropping the little girl off in the boy's arms not two days ago.
"Umm, hello?"
He started, and was confronted by a thin girl of middle height, smiling warmly. She had freckles, and tied her short brown hair at the back of her neck. She clutched a clipboard to her body with a sense of authority that lived larger than her spare frame, and Shinji blushed at her sudden attention. "Uh, I'm a transfer. I'm looking for…"
"The class representative?"
He was going to say "Class 2-A," but that would do. He nodded vigorously.
Eying him, she took the folder, checked it, and closed it again. "I'm the Class Rep. Hikari Horaki. Yes, this is your class. Where's your laptop?"
"I have a laptop?"
She rolled her eyes a little, but there was no heat in her voice. "Yes. You'll pick it up at the front office, when you sign in. I'm assuming…"
He shrugged and shook his head.
"Right," she handed the folder back. "Take this up there, sign in, get your computer, come back. Hurry, we don't have much time before the teacher arrives."
He nodded, took the folder, and headed into the hall. The spaces were mostly empty now, and when no one was watching, he double timed it, moving just a little bit too fast. The wizened woman at the front office who gave him his computer and took his file looked at him as if she expected him to be out of breath, and he pantomimed being winded to satisfy her. He thanked he quietly, adjusted his glasses, and raced back to the class, laptop under his arm. He was just in time to slip into a random seat towards the rear of the room. He opened the laptop and began booting it.
"I'm tellin ya," he heard the boy in the tracksuit tell a small cluster of students, "I ain't crazy. I saw it! I wasn't the only one there!"
Shinji perked up.
"Then how come it wasn't on the news?"
"Maybe it's a blackout," said his bespectacled companion. "A conspiracy! They're keeping it a secret."
"Maybe you're just nuts," one of the other students shrugged.
Shinji slowly looked around. The boy in the tracksuit fixed on him.
"What?"
"Nothing" said Shinji, shrinking on himself.
"Stand! Bow! Sit!"
Stunned by the sheer volume of her voice, he nearly dumped his new computer on the floor in the process of leaping to his feet. By the time the wizened old teacher had made his way to the lectern, the computer had booted, and Shinji opened the note-taking program. He sat with his fingers poised over the keys, glasses perched on his nose to get them out of the way so he could actually see, and waited, and waited. The old man adjusted his glasses, took a sip of water from a small bottle, and looked around the room. He gradually made his way back to the board and wrote "Second Impact", and then underlined it. Shinji blinked and looked down at his schedule. Wasn't this supposed to be math class?
"When the waves hit, I was…"
Shinji stared with a quirked eyebrow as the teacher began a long, rambling speech about his time as a draftee in the post-Impact wars, telling the story of the nuclear attack on Tokyo three times in the first hour. Shinji glanced nervously to his left and right, wondering if he was being hazed. Instead, he saw the students around him furiously typing, and when he saw the screens, he realized they were in a chat room. He began poking around at the computer, looking at the various programs, until he found the chat client. It took a moment to log him into the server, and asked him for a login name, so he put Ikari S.
The conversation went on at a furious pace. He had the impression that people were messaging each other privately, as well, because there were only a few students actually sending public messages, even though everyone was typing. Someone named Toji was ranting about the reality of the 'Flying Man', and from a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw it was the boy in the track suit; a new message appeared every time he hit the enter key. Shinji's mouth went a little dry. He hadn't counted on running into someone who saw him. He slouched a little, drew his shoulders in, and watched the chat window with his chin propped on one hand. There was no point in devoting much mental effort to listening to the teacher. He would remember anything that was actually important perfectly anyway, the taking of notes on his part for appearance's sake. He was glad to have the computer. Sitting there with a pad and pen would have been excruciating.
The morning ground on, and he found himself unimpressed by the state of education in Tokyo-3. After a meandering, rambling lecture about Second Impact… or… something, the alleged math teacher trundled out of the room and was replaced by an English teacher who muddled through the lesson, pausing for a gangly American to pronounce the word for him. Shinji, having already mastered the language, was bored out of his mind. He found himself staring out the window, past an empty desk. There was a tree, and it was gloriously alive. He watched ants pick their way along the tree-trunk, their tiny exoskeletal bodies glowing brilliantly in the ultraviolet range. He could see the subtle changes in pressure on the surface as the tree carried moisture from the Earth to its leaves, and saw the heat bloom before a tiny bird took to wing from the upper reaches.
Eventually, they were dismissed for gym class, and he panicked for a moment, before he realized he could simply follow the other boys to the locker room. He fell in behind them, glancing around the halls as he walked. Once there, he found a locker, hung up his clothes, and changed into a t-shirt and shorts. Nervously, he wandered out onto the tarmac, assaulted by the sound of a bouncing basketball and dozens of conversations, the florid stink of the chlorine in the nearby pool where the girls were swimming, up a low rise covered in grass. A girl he didn't know gave him a little wave through the chain-link fence and he returned it awkwardly, and had a decision to make.
A basketball was speeding for his head. He had options. He could catch it. He could backhand it so hard it would explode. He could simply lean back and count the dimples on its rubbery surface as it flew by, and if he wanted to show off, catch it one handed and spin it on his finger. He chose to do none of those things, instead turning to meet it. He put out his hands and let it scrape against his palms, making a tiny sound of rubber on skin. It skimmed through his grip and hit him square on the nose, and for anyone else would have perhaps knocked him flat on his rear end. In his case, he had to supply the momentum himself, and manage to quite naturalistically fall on his backside with a grunt. He adjusted his glasses and sighed in mock annoyance, rubbing at his forehead. When he pulled his hand away, there was another hand in front of his face, belonging to the boy in the tracksuit, who hadn't changed his clothes. His bespectacled friend stood beside him.
Shinji took the offered hand and stood up shakily, brushing at himself for no real reason.
"Hi," said the boy, "I'm Toji."
"I'm Kensuke."
"Shinji," said Shinji. "Did they do that on purpose?"
Toji shrugged. "You have to watch these guys. They're rough on transfers."
One Kozo Fuyutsuki's many roles at Nerv was to stand two steps behind and to the right of the Commander when he performed his duties, ready to sweep in and take command if necessary. In other words, he occupied a mostly ceremonial post designed to keep him where they could see him, since he had both the knowledge of their conspiracy and the knowledge of the means by which they executed it to be a threat. It was either cooperate or die, murder the world or die knowing it would happen anyway. He cursed himself for taking the easier path, or at least he used to. He smiled inwardly, but kept his face a frozen mask, an actor as capable as his seated protégé and drawing on decades of experience. The margin by which the world of secret societies was more tedious than the world of academic politics was a razor thin one.
He had a difficult time maintaining his composure today. There was a certain surreal absurdity to his very situation, standing beside the leader of a secret paramilitary organization in a secret underground base, using a holographic display to communicate with a group of men who hide themselves behind featureless monoliths like something out of a science fiction movie. He had the identify of one of them nailed down, if only because the man routinely disregarded the secrecy the others favored and revealed his face. His name was Keel, he was a German with three doctorates, and he was dressing down Gendo at this very moment. Fuyutsuki didn't know who to root for.
"This situation is untenable, Ikari."
"I agree. The Second should be transferred to my command immediately."
If he could see them, Fuyutsuki had no doubt the members of the Human Instrumentality committee would be rocking back in their seats at Gendo's brazenness. He made no movement, still sitting with his folded hands obscuring his face in his curious way, staring pointedly at nothing. Fuyutsuki straightened himself and waited.
"Unit Two is not ready to move, and will not be leaving Berlin for another month."
"I am aware of that. I meant the Second Child, not the Evangelion."
"You believe she will be able to pilot Unit One?"
"It is better than nothing. Attempting to use the First again will kill her, and an untrained pilot…"
With a voice so thick with sarcasm Fuyutsuki could practically hear his sneer, another member cut him off. "As I recall, your candidate had no prior training."
Gendo remained unruffled. "His situation was unique. You all know what the Scenario calls for. A candidate who both meets the requirement and is trainable is rare at best. The Second Child's unique circumstances alone permitted her training."
"True," said Keel. "Very well. The defeat of the angels is our top priority, of course. The arrangements will be made, and the Second will be transferred ahead of schedule, by air. I leave the arrangement of the flight details to your staff."
Gendo said nothing, and the tense contest of who would be the one to break the silence began. It lasted only a few, brief moments.
"There is another matter," said Keel.
Gendo tensed. "Which is?"
Another Committee member cut in, a different one, with a deep voice. "There have been disturbing reports of an… anomaly. We have word that it was not, in fact, Unit One that destroyed the Third Angel."
Gendo remained silent for a moment, and Fuyutsuki let his gaze drift to him as he wondered how he planned to play this. The game of silence began again, and it was Gendo's turn to make the first move this time.
"There was outside interference during the battle. An interloper of unknown capabilities attacked the angel and did superficial damage to Unit One."
"An interloper? Damaged Unit One?"
"We believe he was engaging in a misguided attempt to rescue the pilot."
"Were you attempting to conceal this information from us?"
"I did not think it significant."
There was a low rasping sound, probably Keel snorting into his microphone. "That is not your decision. You will ensure that the Committee is fully briefed on any further encounters with this interloper."
Gendo smirked. "Rest assured, if there is a threat to the Scenario, I will eliminate it."
The monoliths winked out, one by one, until only Keel's remained. "See that you do, or we may see you as a threat and take action of our own."
Keel's monolith vanished, and the system deactivated, the featureless black expanse replaced by a surprisingly small room with gray walls, studded with holographic emitters. The only piece of furniture was a desk that was virtually identical to the one in Gendo's office, which struck Fuyutsuki as a little silly. He presume that Gendo appeared to the others as a monolith of his own, his theatrics unseen, but then, you never knew, which was sort of the point. It was entirely likely that Keel saw them all undisguised, and maybe others as well. Gendo leaned back in his chair and took on a sort of rebellious slouch, pausing to consider the surface of his desk.
"At least they didn't pester us over the budget," said Fuyutsuki.
"Indeed," said Gendo. "Nevertheless, it was too easy. See that the arrangements are made for the Second's transfer."
"Of course," said Fuyutsuki. "Where should I billet her?"
"There is available space either in the barracks or on the surface. Until the First is ready to pilot again, her security is a priority. Keep her where she will be most secure."
Fuyutsuki nodded and walked out of the room, conscious of Gendo's desire that no one see him leave a room. He stepped outside, ensured the hallway outside the holographic conference room was clear, and headed towards his office, thinking of how best to ensure the Second Child's safety and security while she lived in Tokyo-3. Some would have, perhaps, doubted the idea that next crossed his mind. Then again, they would have lacked vital information he possessed. Once he was out of the elevator, he made his way to his office, sat down in his creaky old chair, and cradled the handset of his old fashioned telephone between his chin and his shoulder while he fished around for the card bearing Misato Katsuragi's office number.
Misato awkwardly made her way down the hall, cursing the mad architect who had designed the layout of the base specifically to torment her. She had to choice but to press on, clenching her fists at her side from each wincing step. They said her ankle would be fine in a few days, but it was still bothering her, and having to actually walk to the station and ride a train to work only made it worse. Some jerk on the train had tried to grope her, only to pull back and melt away into the crowd after brushing against her shoulder holster. Now, she was lost on the way to her own damn office. The layout didn't help. There were hairpin turns, corridors that split and came together on themselves again, and the whole place was laid out in a giant hexagon for some reason. It felt like it took her an hour to find the right level and make her way into her office, and she could only tell it from the others by her nameplate on the door. That, and the incredible mountain of paperwork resting on the desk inside.
Having just come to the Japan branch the week before, she hadn't had time to turn her office into a cozy little den. There was a green metal desk that looked like it belonged in an elementary school, an uncomfortable straight-backed metal chair that squeaked when she pulled it across the floor to sit down, and an empty filing cabinet with a lamp on top. She sat down on the uncomfortably rigid chair and considered the pile for a moment, stacked so high that she had to crane her neck to look over it. The first item on the stack was a bound review of the damage to Unit One.
It took her an hour to flip through the report, noting every detail. It was a miracle that Rei survived. No one had told her that the entry plug had been extracted during the battle, and there was damage to the armor at the back of Unit One's neck. She stood up, wincing on her wounded ankle, and walked out of her office, still holding the report in one hand. She had enough of a handle on the architecture to make it to Ritsuko's office without really getting lost, just feeling that way. She poked her head through the door and saw her old friend curled up over a microscope, fiddling with the dials on the side.
"Ahem."
Ritsuko jumped, and touched a hand to her chest.
"Don't scare me like that."
Misato blinked, and walked into the room. "Sorry."
The lab was a dense collection of junk. There was a collection of paperwork that made Misato's load of papers seem miniscule by comparison, as well as scientific bitsy-whatsits and computer parts and what may have been part of an Evangelion finger joint lying on the floor by the door. The air stank of cigarette smoke, and the dying whisper of one was curled in the air over an ashtray that had long ago given up trying to contain the ash and lipstick-stained cigarette butts that spilled over the edges. Ritsuko looked like she hadn't slept yet.
"You okay?" said Misato.
"Fine, fine," Ritsuko said, hurriedly. "What is it?"
"I was looking over the damage report…"
"Close the door."
Misato blinked, and hobbled to the door, then hit the switch and watched it slide closed. She headed over to where Ritsuko sat and plopped down on the chair next to her, relieved at taking the weight off her aching foot. She resisted the urge to sigh in relief and dropped the report on the stack. Ritsuko looked at her wearily for a moment, and began typing at something.
"Well?"
Ritsuko pulled her glasses off, which made her look a little younger, and tossed them on the desk with a clatter. "No one told you, huh?"
"Told me what?"
"About the flying man."
Misato blinked. "Is this a joke? A hazing thing? It's not funny."
Ritsuko turned the monitor of her computer, inclining her head towards it. Misato watched a grainy, jerky video, and recognized it as the camera from one of the Humvees, like the cameras police cars use. She watched the silent recording and her mouth slowly dropped open. What she thought she was seeing was only confirmed at the end. The figure standing next to Rei, seated in the seat from the entry plug, was moving slightly, as in a soft breeze. When Misato saw a chunk of asphalt kick up next to his feet, she realized why; they were shooting him. They were shooting him, and the bullets were bouncing off his chest like pebbles thrown against a wall. With a sort of casual ease, he threw his hand out and closed his fist around something, looked at it, and dropped the bullet he'd caught in his hand to the ground. He hadn't even realized they were shooting him until he saw the bullet.
"What… what the hell?"
"There's where you're damage came from," Ritsuko shrugged. "Keep watching."
The figure reacted, probably from being spoken to, took a step back, and looked around. He considered the ring of Section 2 men forming around him, and flew away. It took Misato a moment to process what she'd just seen, her mind reeling, trying to see the string or the camera cut or something to explain how the man in the cape just rose up into the sky without apparent means. She stared dumbly at the floor after the video ended, unable to bridge the connection between mind and mouth.
"After he killed the angel…"
"What?"
Ritsuko sighed wearily. "After he killed the angel, he pulled Unit One open, pulled the entry plug out and ripped it open with his bare hands to get Rei out. He beat the angel to death with his bare hands. I don't know."
Misato stared.
"I don't understand this," Ritsuko went on, her voice cracking a little. "It makes no sense. It's impossible. Only an Eva can penetrate an AT-Field. Only an Eva."
Misato nodded. "I'm not big on the technical details, but-"
"That implies that this… person, or something that looks like a person, can generate an AT-Field of his own, or…"
"Or?"
"Or he's generating massive amounts of energy. He beat the angel to death with his hands, Misato. He killed it by punching it."
Misato glanced at the pile of cigarette butts and the cup of coffee on the desk, so cold she could tell it just by looking. She put her hand on Ritsuko's shoulder.
"What does this mean?"
Ritsuko shook her head. "I don't know. If this… thing turns out to be dangerous, we might not be able to stop it. It looks just like us. What if it's an angel? It could just walk in here and we'd have no way of stopping it."
Misato folded her hands in her lap. "Maybe we could try, I don't know, talking to him?"
Ritsuko laughed bitterly. "I don't think he's in the phone book. Besides, the official policy on this is that it never happened. Unit One took extensive damage, but defeated the angel singlehandedly. I know, the bridge crew knows, the recovery crews saw him… it's going to get out, and there will be a panic."
Misato nodded. "Has anyone seen him since?"
Ritsuko shook her head. "No. I hate this. I can't stand not knowing. It doesn't fit."
Misato's phone rang. She rolled her eyes, but inwardly sighed in relief at the building tension in the little room. She fished the chirping device out of her pocket and checked the caller I.D. It was the sub-commander. Scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, Misato put the phone to her ear.
"Captain?"
"Yes?"
"Ah, good. You were the Second Child's guardian for a time, were you not?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Good. She will be transferring in early. I've assigned her to live with you."
Misato's eyes widened a little. "Uh. What?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Well, I kind of already have… "
"As I recall, your apartment has three bedrooms, Captain. I am aware of your arrangement with Ikari's boy. Her safety is a priority. You will make due."
"But sir," she said, her voice tightening. "I have a great deal of responsibility, and…"
"You have retained the services of an intern to relieve yourself of some of it. She's a teenage girl, not a puppy. You'll handle it."
She sighed in resignation. "Yes, sir."
"Very good, then."
The old man hung up, and she shoved her phone in her pocket and blew out a sigh that was almost a growl.
"I know what to do if your flying man gets out of line," said Misato, leaning on her hand.
Ritsuko blinked.
"We'll sick Asuka on him."
The LCL drained with a hiss, and the colder air rushed in over her skin. Her hair suddenly became heavy and plastered itself against her head and neck and the back of her plugsuit, and the sudden sensation of her own weight came back to her. She rested for a moment, holding in the thick heavy breath of liquid in her lungs, and then with a practiced motion, turned to her side, curled a bit, and hacked it all out at once into the pool of the stuff around the base of her seat, and then with an equally practiced motion turned away before she saw the swirl of saliva and mucous mingled with it. She rested her head against the seat behind her and waited patiently as the technician opened the hatch, and then climbed out.
Asuka ran her fingers through her hair to force some of the foul smelling fluid out of it and pull it away from her neck and free it from sticking to her suit, so that it didn't pull against her scalp as she moved. She had tried, for a while, wearing it shorter, but had come to see the lustrous red sheen of her locks as too rich an asset to waste for mere convenience, and now wore it nearly to her waist. She'd also long ago declined wearing a robe after exiting the plug, and simply walked through the cage where Unit Two loomed over her in her suit, all but daring the technicians to ogle her. There were two kinds: the new ones, and the ones who knew better, who found it in their interest to correct the former before they got themselves in trouble. She derived a certain satisfaction from walking through the crowd of orange-suited men, who lowered their eyes to the floor in the way peasants showed deference to monarchs of old.
One of the techs, still staring at the floor, brought her the harmonics report on a data slate. She'd long ago begun reviewing the materials herself, after she finished her degree. She was pleased to see she'd raised her synch ratio to forty-nine percent, placing her far ahead of the elusive First Child, who had been training for a paltry six years to Asuka's eight, although she had been identified earlier. She flicked through the charts, noting that each was as she expected. All was right in the world. She blinked as she realized there was a third set of data, a Third Child. She stopped on the gantry and glanced over her shoulder, up at Unit Two. The crimson titan loomed over the vast space, dominating it utterly, four green eyes like an insect taking in everything that passed before it.
The new guy wasn't fast enough. Asuka traced the invisible line from the part of her suit that bunched over her buttocks to his eyes, and consumed the look on his face when she realized he'd been caught with a certain predatory satisfaction, yet kept her face a mask. The man looked her in the eye, working his tongue across his lips not in excitement but in apprehension, beads of sweat appearing on his face. She let the hand holding the data slate fall to her side, and narrowed her gaze.
"You."
The technician swallowed, hard, his Adam's apple dancing against the collar of his coveralls.
"Get over here."
Sheepishly, he walked over to her. The sound of the slap was like a gunshot in the huge emptiness of the Eva cage, rolling over the walls and back on itself to become an echo. The technician's white hard hat hit the floor with a hollow thump and a tiny scraping sound as it spun around itself. His face flashed from disbelief to red-faced anger to resignation as he went white, leaving the fresh five-fingered bruise emblazoned on his cheek.
Asuka lifted her chin. "Consider that the viewing fee. The next look will cost your job."
The man nodded in silence, retrieved his hat, and slithered away, carefully looking at the floor, the only place where he might reasonably expect never to find Asuka in his vision. She smiled secretly to herself as she turned back to the data file. She opened it, and went over the data in confusion, tapping her finger to her chin before switching between screens. The Third Child's profile was normal, until he neared synchronization; then, it went wild, as if he were having a seizure and a heart attack and a rather furious bout of indigestion all at once. It was as if the Evangelion touched his mind and his mind simply refused to touch it back. Once he neared the absolutely borderline, all of his ratios veered back to the baseline and then plunged under it, like an airplane rising up to the very limit of its flight ceiling and then diving back down. The end result was a void in the plug, as if the system had been started with no one inside.
She handed the slate off as she headed into the locker room. She showered in the suit first; it was impermeable, and she liked to keep the LCL off of her skin for the most part. It was a meaningless personal preference; the stuff had mild medicinal qualities, and actually made her hair and the skin of her face thicker and more lustrous and softer and smoother, respectively. She once suffered a small cut on her cheek in training, only for it to be completely healed after a lengthy synchronization test. Only once she had her hair completely clear did she remove the suit and toss it away to be retrieved and disposed of after she left. Despite its positive effects, she loathed the smell and worked hard to eliminate it, scrubbing it away first and replacing it with light, fruity scents from soaps and shampoos and finally, after she toweled off and changed into her dress, a whiff of a lavender perfume. She'd essentially stolen it, having purchased the same brand as former guardian, the Katsuragi woman.
She mused over the meaning of a failed selection by the Marduk Institute as she made her way back to her quarters. It was a long walk through the halls of the Berlin facility, and she found herself staring at her feet, habitually counting the steps. When she found the door to her rooms, she opened it by scanning her palm-print on the panel next to the door and stepped inside. Immediately, she saw that her apartment was out of order.
It was spacious, designed for three people, and filled with her things. She kept a small office where she did the bulk of the work for her university courses, filling out tests and poring over notes taken for her by agents of Nerv, or transcribing the recordings she made herself when she occasionally attended the lectures under guard. The other bedroom was reserved for her extensive wardrobe. When she walked into the foyer of her apartment, there was a box covered in DSL shipping stickers, standing half open. Some low level Nerv technician in the brown uniform they all wore outside the cage walked into the foyer with an armful of clothes, looked at her in terror, and then scurried away, having deposited her load into the box. Asuka walked past it, and sniffed the smell of an unlit cigarette and distinctive cologne.
Asuka moved at lightning speed to throw her arms around Kaji, but he deftly arrested her movement by thrusting out a manila envelope that made her skid to a stop on the carpeting. She blinked and accepted it from him, her eyes drifting from the envelope to the man who'd handed it to her, the wiry, suave man with the artful little bit of stubble and the smile that stood out from everything else. He cleared his throat and nodded at the envelope and she opened it.
There were two items inside. A letter, and a plane ticket. She looked at the ticket, then looked at the letter, her eyes glazing over a bit as she comprehended what she read.
"This is ridiculous," she snapped.
Kaji rolled his shoulders and shrugged heavily, his smile becoming a smirk. "It had to happen sooner or later."
"Why am I going to Tokyo? What for? My Eva is here. They said it won't be moved for a month!"
"That's true," said Kaji. "From what I hear, you'll be piloting Unit One."
She blinked, turned around, and tossed the letter on a side table, still holding the ticket. "They want me to pilot that hunk of junk? What happened to the First?"
Kaji looked at her gravely. "She's half dead, from what I hear. The accident with Unit Zero, and then the battle with the Third Angel in Unit One almost did her in."
Asuka tapped the ticket on her palm. "This is absurd. Why can't they… "
It clicked. The Third Child was a washout, and they lacked the will, or time, or resources to train someone else to pilot that ridiculous monstrosity until she arrived to solve the problem. She found herself gritting her teeth.
"I can't believe this."
"I'm fairly sure this is a government operation," Kaji smirked.
Asuka snickered and shot him a longing look. "You're coming with me, right?"
"No," he moved from the wall and took the cigarette out of his mouth. "I have some business at the Munich facility, and then I'll be joining Unit Two for the overland leg of the trip when they do move it. You'll have a full security detail, though."
Asuka stared at him and tried, hard, not to tremble.
"I see. So, this is goodbye then."
"Only for a few weeks," he shrugged, picking up an old mug from one of the boxes and turning it in his fingers. "I may be able to visit Tokyo for a while. Hell, I might end up reassigned there."
"That would be exquisite," said Asuka. "Maybe we could finally move in together."
Kaji snorted. "You didn't read the whole thing."
Asuka frowned.
"You're rooming with Katsuragi."
Her shoulders sank when she heard the subtle way his voice changed when he said her name. She looked at her feet, then back up at him, brightening.
"Oh. Well then, you'll join me for dinner tonight, right? One more time, before I go. Maybe we could see a movie, and…"
He shook his head and walked over to her. "You know we can't do that. The little sleepovers were cute when you were ten, but you're almost an adult, now, Asuka." He leaned in a lowered his voice. "Look, I don't want to embarrass you. We talked about this. It's not going to happen."
He stood up, ruffled her hair like a child, like a damn child, and walked out of the apartment, leaving her standing there, holding a plane ticket in the boxed detritus of her life. She stood there, fuming for a while, and then started towards her bedroom, to prevent the perverts packing her things –without permission!—from stealing her underwear or something. To her relief, they were all female. She barked orders and pointed, but her heart wasn't really in it.
If only the pilot of Unit One hadn't been a total failure. This was all his fault.
Rei's eyes opened slowly, and her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she was greeted by the sight of her own hair, drifting lazily through clouded link control liquid. The liquid began draining, and her feet touched the cold metal floor of the tank. She was in a round glass tube, which was once filled with the now rapidly draining liquid. She leaned on the glass, and it made small squeaking sounds against her bare flesh. It took her a moment to stand, shakily, and she began to shiver from the cold. The tube ground downwards, and the air became colder still. She nearly fell stepping down from the tube, and bumped into someone.
Commander Ikari wrapped her in a blanket, a flat look of profound indifference on his face. He nodded at someone, at Akagi, and they led her to a gurney where she sat down. There was a hospital gown there, and a peculiar device, a cleverly hinged arm cast; beside it were a medical eye patch and a coiled spool of gauze bandages. Rei sat swaddled in the blanket, breathing shallowly and blinking. She had a vague recollection of being in Unit Zero, and did not understand how she came to be here. When she thought on it, her eyebrows pressed together, and she felt a series of vague sensations and saw flat, disconnected images, as though the information she recalled had happened to someone else.
She looked up, and the Commander met her gaze. She did the best to quell her shivering, and ignore the rest of the room. The Others loomed behind him, moving gently in the slow currents of the LCL tank, spare parts for a broken machine. Otherwise, there was darkness. Akagi backed away slowly, averting her gaze from Rei. The Commander cleared his throat, and Rei straightened.
"How did I come to be here?"
"Irrelevant. You will wear the bandages and the cast."
"I do not understand. I am unin-"
"You do not question me."
She nodded absently and sat up, the expression draining from her face. "I will wear the bandages and the cast."
"Good. You will remain in the infirmary for two weeks. If anyone approaches you other than Akagi and myself, you will feign injury. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
The Commander turned and nodded. "Deal with her."
He walked out of the room without further comment, the click-clack of his heels echoing in the darkness. Akagi walked over to her, an unlit cigarette in her mouth, and looked her up and down. The woman seemed lost in thought for a moment before shaking herself free of it. She held Rei's arms while she shakily stood up and helped her tie the hospital gown around herself, and silently worked the cleverly hidden hinges on the false cast, so Rei could see how it was done if she needed to do it herself. She slid her arm into a sling, and carefully wrapped the bandages around her head, and put the eye patch in place.
"This is how you will wear the bandages."
"I understand," said Rei.
"Do you?" said Akagi.
Rei blinked, but said nothing. She turned on the bed and lay down on it, and Akagi pulled the blankets over her. The woman grunted as she pushed the gurney to get it moving, and walked behind it as she guided it to the elevator. It was a long ride in the elevator to the infirmary, and neither spoke. Rei could smell the smell of Akagi's cigarette though it was unlit and wondered why anyone would want to taste something that smelled that way. As she stared up at the ceiling of the elevator, images drifted through her mind, distant and opaque. She had the faintest memory of something, the distant impression of a crooked emblem, like an English 'S', and a strong voice speaking quiet words she couldn't hear, posing a question to which she had no answer.
Once they were in the upper reaches of the facility, a doctor joined Akagi and pushed the bed along, and Rei ignored their conversation, mostly about her care. The doctor frowned several times and glanced at her, and then quickly averted his eyes, deferring to Akagi. At length, the bed was pushed into an empty room where light spilled in from outside, imparting a soft glow to the featureless expanse of white and brushed stainless steel. They left her there to stare up at the blank ceiling, and there she lay. She heard the sound of people speaking softly, and felt a presence just outside the room. She turned, and saw Akagi arguing with the Operations Director, Katsuragi. There was someone with them, just outside the door.
The boy looked at the two women, and then gently made his way over to her. He looked oddly familiar, but she was unable to place him, and frowned slightly. He had a mop of black hair and some of the Commander in his face, but only very slightly, the merest hint visible only to an expert eye. He was wearing the school uniform and a pair of glasses, and was looking around nervously. In his hand he held a vase, in which there was a small clutch of flowers. He paced over to the bed and looked down at her.
"Uh," he said, "Hi?"
Rei met him with silence, but tilted her head slightly. The familiarity of his appearance was beginning to tug at her mind.
The boy swallowed. "Um," he said, "I brought you some flowers. I'll just put these down."
She watched him, tracing his movement with her uncovered eye, as he walked over to the bare bedside table and rested the flowers there. Their pink and purple hues felt out of place in the rest of the room, and made it seem even more washed out by comparison. The scent of the plants made her sniff at the air a little, and did not mingle with the antiseptic smell of the hospital, but seemed to slide along on top of it.
"So, uh, you're Rei?"
"Yes."
His eyes flicked down the length of her body, and for a moment, his irises seemed an even more intense blue than they had been before, catching the light so strongly they all but glowed. He met her gaze again and frowned, but quickly reverted to a forced smile.
"I'm Shinji. It was nice to meet you. I, ah, I hope you feel better."
"Come on, Casanova," Katusragi called. "Visiting hours are over."
Slumping a little, the boy –Shinji—left the room, scuffing his feet against the floor just a bit. Rei watched the three silhouettes disappear from the light in the hallway. She found herself staring at the flowers again, studying the strange textures and contours of the petals, the way the color drank the light and carried it over the surface. She lost track of how much time passed before the Commander entered, hands clasped behind his back.
He studied Rei for a moment, and looked at the flowers.
"What are those?"
"A boy brought them to me."
The look on the Commander's face was decidedly unusual, one she had not seen before. His voice had an unusual tightness to it, as if he were forcing the words out through his teeth.
"What boy?"
"He called himself Shinji."
"I see," said the Commander.
He walked to the edge of the room and found the wastebasket, and then nudged it over to the side of the bedside table with his foot. Then, he picked up the vase and half-dropped, half-threw it in, imparting enough force that the glass shattered and there was a small splash as the water inside lapped up against the sides of the container. Rei blinked.
"You will have no further contact with him. If he makes any overtures towards you, you will not indulge them. Do you understand?"
"Yes," said Rei.
"You will remain here until this ruse is ended, and I give you further instructions."
Rei nodded and turned back to contemplating the ceiling as he walked out, and tried to remember. She thought she was the third.
Shinji knew three things about Rei Ayanami. One, he knew her name, and that counted as something. Two, he knew she was beautiful, despite her strange appearance. Her skin, so pale he could see her veins under it, and her red irises both suggested an albino, but her hair was actually blue- it wasn't some sort of effect from the fluid she'd been immersed in when she was piloting, her hair was actually blue, a strange silvery sky blue. Despite all that, she seemed oddly familiar, as if he'd seen her before. He certainly didn't remember any blue haired girls, but the feeling was there all the same. Three, the last time he'd seen her, she'd been near death, with broken bones and serious internal injuries, and now she was fine- and someone was hiding that fact. The cast she wore was fake; it had hinges so she could pop it on and off, and though she held her eye closed under the medical patch she wore, her eye itself was fine. He frowned as he walked beside Misato, whose gaze flickered over to him and then back to the corridor ahead.
"She'll be okay," Misato said reassuringly, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry about the Casanova thing, that was kind of out of line."
"Its okay," he shrugged, thrusting his hands into his pockets.
He looked around at the bare walls, as if they'd provide him with an excuse. When they didn't, he made up one on his own. "I just feel like it was my fault she got hurt, is all."
Misato arched an eyebrow. "It really isn't. She got banged up pretty bad in an activation test. I wasn't here, so I didn't see what happened, but they had to drag her out of the infirmary to pilot."
Shinji nodded, feigning understanding. Instead, this new information only raised more questions. If she was bedridden for weeks before the angel attacked, how did she heal almost overnight? Was she always able to do that, and the organization hid it? Misato was pretty high up; why didn't she know?
"Hey!" said Misato, elbowing him. "Aren't you listening?"
He blinked. "What?"
"Heh," Misato smirked, "You must be smitten. I said you're losing you're room."
He pretended to almost trip over his own feet, twisting a little to keep his balance. "You're kicking me out?"
"No," said Misato, suppressing a grin. "We're getting a new roommate, and she's going to want the bigger room."
"Oh," said Shinji. "Wait, why?"
"Well," said Misato, "With Rei in here and with no one else to pilot Eva, we're bringing in the Second Child. She's supposed to pilot Unit Two but she'll fill in for you as pilot of Unit One until we can move her Eva here from Germany."
Shinji nodded. "Oh. So she'll stay with us?"
Misato nodded. "She's a real firecracker."
"Firecracker?"
"She can be a little… moody."
Shinji considered what Misato, who had already redefined "a little" in the context of beer and food, might consider "a little moody". Misato turned slowly around as she entered the elevator that would carry her towards her office and leaned on the railing set into the wall to take the weight off her leg, and sighed. Shinji put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the far wall, and slowly breathed out.
"So when does she get here?"
Misato rolled her eyes a little and pursed her lips in thought. "Ah, she's leaving Germany in… four hours? One or two stops, so tomorrow afternoon. They're supposed to email me the flight details."
Shinji nodded. "I guess I should go move my stuff, then."
Misato narrowed her eyes. "Oh no you don't. You're my intern, and you are getting me some coffee."
"I wasn't-" Shinji began to protest.
Misato rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically. "Will you relax? I'm kidding. You're always so serious all the time."
As she hobbled out of the elevator, he headed off to procure the coffee in question. He had to feign confusion in the halls a bit, which wasn't so hard, as the layout genuinely confused him. The place really was built like a maze. Of course, it meant little to him. All he had to do was listen for the characteristic sounds of conversation and cups being drained and staff bustling about, and follow it to the cafeteria. When he arrived, he quickly scooped up a paper cup and headed for the coffee machine. He flinched when someone bumped into him.
"Oh! Sorry!" he blurted.
"Hey, you're the kid!"
He was confronted by three young people. The one who'd actually bumped into him was a slight young girl who looked out of place in her khaki uniform, a look of perpetual wide-eyed surprise on her face. She was accompanied by a tall, thin man with a pair of glasses and a magazine tucked under his arm, and a long-haired man with thin, spare features and an almost-sneer that turned into a smirk at the girl's gaffe.
"I am?" said Shinji.
"Yeah," said the long-haired man. "What are you doing here, anyway? They let random kids wander around now?"
The girl leaned forward and squinted at the identification badge clipped to Shinji's shirt pocket. "Intern?"
"He's a gopher."
"I work for Miss Misato… err, Captain Katsuragi," Shinji clarified, looking down at the cup of coffee in his hands.
"We're being rude," the girl said, smiling. "I'm Lieutenant Maya Ibuki."
"Uh, Hi, Lieutenant."
"I'm Hyuga," said the guy with the glasses. "This is Aoba."
"I'm on break," Aoba strode away. "I'll see you dorks later."
"Ugh," said Maya. "What's with him?"
"I have to get going," Shinji mumbled, and trundled away, dropping his shoulders. He quickly made the series of turns that took him back to Misato's office, knocked on the door, and brushed it aside. She was poring over some set of forms, grunting to herself and ticking off check-boxes with a pen. He put the coffee down beside her and she picked it up and took a sip, without comment.
"Blech," she snorted, "It's cold! Go heat it up."
Shinji sighed and took the coffee back, and walked out of the cramped office. When he was a few paces down the hall, he lifted his glasses, stared down at the coffee, and concentrated. Within a few moments, the surface rippled and thin streamers of steam rose up from it. He waited for a moment, then walked back into the office and gave it back.
"Better," said Misato, having taken a sip. "That was fast. Learning your way around, huh?"
Shinji shrugged. "I guess."
"Good," said Misato, picking up a hefty sheaf of papers with a grunt. "I have some running for you to do. Just drop these off, follow the sticky notes. I gave you a map."
Shinji took the papers and flipped through them, noting the yellow notes stuck to the various pages with names and office numbers. He sighed and wandered out of the room, still studying them. As he walked through the complex, he glanced at the map mixed in with the papers, making turns here and there. Gradually, he managed to give away most of the stack, and wondered why these people couldn't just email each other. After a while, he had only a few bundles left.
He knocked on Doctor Akagi's door, and took a barely vocal grunt as sign he was permitted to enter. He knocked again anyway, just to be sure.
"Come on, come on," the scientist groaned, "I'm busy."
Shinji slid the door open and stepped inside, holding out the bundle of papers. Akagi took them, glanced at him, and her expression softened.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you. We're all very busy, Shinji."
He nodded. "What are you doing?"
"It's classified," she said, waving her hand as she turned back to her computer.
Shinji furtively lifted his identification badge.
Akagi rolled her eyes. "Misato got you a clearance? You do realize that means more running, right?"
He shrugged.
"So what is it?"
She looked at him askance for a moment. "You're really interested?"
"I like science."
She sighed, leaned back in her chair, and scrubbed her fingers over her scalp. "That's too bad. I really can't tell you about this… although, there is this."
She leaned over, rummaged around the pile of junk around her feet, and tossed a bundle of blue cloth at him. He caught it, and let it unfold in his hands. He recognized it at once as the weird skin-tight suit he'd worn during the synchronization test. It still smelled faintly of the foul liquid from inside the entry plug. He turned it around, looking it over.
"What is it?"
"It's your plug suit," said Akagi. "No one else can really wear one fitted for you, so I figured you could keep it."
He rolled the suit up and tucked it under his shoulder. "Thanks, I guess."
"If you're really interested, maybe we can go over how it works when I have some time. It's really quite fascinating, from a materials engineering standpoint." Subvocally, she added, "like I'll ever have time."
Shinji stood until he was sure she was ignoring him, and then quietly turned and left, closing the door behind him. He glanced at the last bundle of papers and froze. The note addressed it to Kozo Fuyutsuki. He checked the map and threaded his way through the corridors, taking a route that took him by Misato's office. She waved idly, focused on her work, as he took the folded plugsuit and stuck it in his back pack, resting in the corner of her little office. As he walked out of the room, he scratched his chin. It was blue, after all.
He found Fuyutsuki's office and knocked on the door.
"Enter."
Slowly, swallowing hard, he walked inside, trembling a little. The man was older than he remembered, and seemed wearier, although unbowed by age. He was calmly reading some paperwork in a manila folder, tapping the corner with his pen. Shinji glanced around the room, and was a little surprised by it. It looked less industrial than the rest of the place, and more lived in. The old wooden shelves, each set of bookcases slightly different from the others, as if they'd all been acquired separately, sagged under the weight of the books resting on them. He scanned the titles, and noted that a number were written by Fuyutsuki himself, their topics concerning esoteric fields of science Shinji had never encountered before.
"Good books make good company," said Fuyutsuki, without looking up. "You're Katsuragi's 'intern', yes?"
Shinji nodded and handed over the packet of forms.
Fuyutsuki took it and slid it into a basket on his desk without looking at it. "I know about the synch test. It's a shame, but don't let anyone put you down over it. Piloting an Eva is a very specialized ability, and even among the narrow field of potential candidates, very few people possess the specific qualities. It doesn't reflect on you as an individual."
Shinji nodded.
Fuyutsuki smiled. "Besides, in the end, we all find our place in this world."
Shinji nodded, waited for him to say something else, and when he realized it wasn't coming, turned and quietly closed the door to the old man's office. He walked a little oddly down the hall, confused. He'd expected more of a reaction out of him.
"Keep walking."
The old man's voice made him jump. He glanced over his shoulder, saw no one, and then quickly straightened, putting his hands in his pockets.
"I'm whispering. If you can hear me, meet me on the surface tonight. There's a scenic overlook not far from your school. I'll be there at midnight."
Shinji made no reaction, and headed back to Misato's office. When he arrived, she was sipping from a beer can. She looked up at him in alarm, burped, and shoved it back into her desk drawer and slammed it closed with a slosh. He smelled it coming from inside the desk, and a quick glance confirmed she'd spilled it.
"Was that-"
"Was what?"
"Nothing," he blinked. "I delivered the stuff."
"Oh," said Misato, leaning back in her chair. "My shift is almost over, actually. We really should get home, after all. We need to be ready for Asuka."
"Okay," said Shinji. "I'll-"
"Like I said, we need to be ready. Go down to the armory and get us some helmets and flak jackets."
He blinked. "What?"
She rolled her eyes again. "I'm joking. We earth humans call it 'humor', Shinji. One day you will come to understand it."
Shinji smirked.
Fuyutsuki looked at his watch, and then put his hand in his pocket. Despite the never-ending heat, there was sometimes a chill in the autumn in the hills overlooking the city, and this was one such night. Tokyo-3 was spread out before him, aglow with activity and the searching beams of floodlights. The lights in trains and cars pulsed and flowed, like a diagram of a circulatory system. He was so intent in his observation that he almost didn't hear the thump of a pair of feet landing beside him.
Actually seeing Shinji fly startled him, but he managed to keep his expression neutral, although he involuntarily took a step back. The boy was dressed in a strange outfit- a short-sleeved blue shirt emblazoned with the red and yellow symbol and a short cape. By the looks of things, he didn't have enough material to make an entire suit, and had cobbled together the rest from a pair of work pants and some boots. Shinji stood with his hands at his sides, breathing shallowly.
"So," said Fuyutsuki. "I assume you opened it."
"Yes," said Shinji. "I have to thank you. I-"
"Your mother would be proud of you."
Shinji froze, and then turned away, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand. "Maybe," he said thickly. "We'll see."
"What can you do?"
Shinji shrugged, and walked over to the guard rail. "I can fly. I'm really strong. I don't think I can be hurt. I feel it when something hits me, but it doesn't hurt anymore. I can see things, too, and hear things. I hear them."
He nodded at the city. "Talking, walking, eating, sleeping. I can hear everything."
Fuyutsuki took his hands out of his pockets and folded his hands behind his back.
"You still need to be careful."
Shinji looked at him. "Professor, who is Rei?"
Fuyutsuki looked away, and leaned on the rail. The ground yawned out beneath him, rendered in muted blues and blacks under the moonless night sky. He sighed, stood up, and turned.
"Why do you ask?"
"She seems familiar, but I can't place her. Did I know her before, when…"
Fuyutsuki's jaw tightened. He glanced at his feet. "In a manner of speaking."
"I don't understand."
"It's…" Fuyutsuki trailed off. "It's complicated. She's family, Shinji. Your family."
Shinji rocked back on his heels, as if struck. "You mean, like a cousin?"
"Not exactly," said Fuyutsuki. "You have to understand, Shinji, this is sensitive information. I could be killed for speaking to you about it."
"I won't let anything happen to you."
Fuyutsuki snorted. "That's why I wanted to speak with you. You may be invulnerable, but not everyone else is. I can't tell you anymore now, Shinji. I'm sorry."
"I don't-"
Fuyutsuki rounded on him, a little more harshly than he meant to. "Your father is a very dangerous man, Shinji. He'll be more dangerous if cornered. I'm taking a huge risk by coming to you like this. I'm not worried about myself. I deserve whatever happens to me. You can't be everywhere at once."
Shinji shrunk back a little, and looked out over the city. "You're right."
"That brings me to the other. Asuka."
"I keep hearing about her," said Shinji, leaning on the railing. "Misato has been talking about her non-stop."
"Captain Katsuragi was her guardian for a time, in Germany."
"She pilots the other Eva. Unit Two."
Fuyutsuki nodded. "That's right. I made the arrangements for her to live with you and the captain."
Shinji blinked. "You did?"
Fuyutsuki smirked. "Ikari ordered me to put her where she would be safe. Where would be safer?"
Shinji nodded. "I won't let anything happen to her."
Fuyutsuki found himself laughing sadly. "Be careful around her. Her behavior can be… strange. I've never had the opportunity to meet her, but I review the psychological reports regularly. She is, well, damaged is the only word that seems correct."
"What happened?"
Fuyutsuki glanced at the boy, leaning on the rail in his silly costume, like a child dressed up for a game. At just the right angle, he looked so much like his mother, the same curve of the jaw and the same depth in his eyes. In quiet moments, Fuyutsuki had often wondered what might have happened if he had never bailed Gendo out after that bar fight, if he had made advances on Yui openly, if the boy had been his, what might he look like? There was little, if any, of the father in him- at least, of one of the fathers. Fuytuski looked at him and remembered he was talking to a teenage boy who could kill a spawn of Adam with his bare hands, and shuddered just a little when he realized what might happen if he told the boy the whole truth.
"She lost her mother in an accident."
Shinji stood up. "What accident?"
Fuyutsuki's breath caught. If he reasoned it out, he might fly off the handle, go out of control.
"Do you know what a trigger is?" said Fuyutsuki.
"You mean, like on a gun?"
"That's apt. It's something that causes a psychological reaction in a person, Shinji. No matter what happens, you must never, ever mention to Asuka that you know what happened to her mother. Never even broach the subject. Do you understand?"
Shinji nodded. "Okay, I won't."
"Good," said Fuyutsuki. "We must be careful, Shinji. Very careful. There's more going on here than defending the city from those creatures. We can help each other, but only if we don't overplay our hand."
Shinji nodded. "I think I should get going."
"And so you should," said Fuyutsuki.
Shinji lingered for a moment, then turned and, with curious slowness, took off. It was as if some invisible force lifted him around the waist and carried him up into the sky, leaving his legs dangling. Fuyutsuki felt a tightness in his chest as he watched him disappear into the night sky, and clapped his hand over his mouth when he was out of sight. He could only hope that Yui knew what she was doing, all those years ago.
Lorenz Keel did not think of himself as ostentatious. In fact, he thought his lifestyle was somewhat understated for his station in life. He spent the majority of his time in his study, which was in the east wing of the family home. The study was a large, imposing, drafty room, with high vaulted ceilings that reminded visitors of a temple or church from the way they arched. The floor was covered in a thick pile carpet and the walls lined with the collections, dozens upon dozens of volumes each worth a small fortune. It was the ceiling that spoke, however; the rough beams and exposed stone made a statement about the primitive urges that lay beneath the refinement of man, the need for the Old Religion. Sitting at a wide desk at the head of the temple of books, Keel was at the end of history, literally and figuratively.
He knew his colleagues had other tastes, but he preferred a simple holographic display built into the desk. Rather than sitting in a dark room confronted by towering black slabs that spoke in booming voices, he sat before a miniature holographic cairn that spoke in whispers. It pleased him to fold his hands together and lean over his colleagues, projected in miniature in the illuminated circle on his desk. Tonight, he spoke with only two of his associates, and they all wreathed themselves in shadows.
"Ikari poses a threat to us, brothers." Said Keel.
"Indeed," said 02. "What do you propose we do about it?"
"I had wished to avoid bringing this to the full committee," said Keel. "I think the fewer of us are aware of it, the better."
"Get to the point," said 03.
"I am prepared to move Nagisa into position," said Keel. "It has occurred to me that, if the Second were to suffer an unfortunate accident, it would justify moving our pawn onto the board earlier than anticipated, checking Ikari's advance."
"What are you suggesting?" said 02.
"I am not suggesting," said Keel. "I am implying. It would be unfortunate if there were to be an accident involving the Second on her journey to Japan, but not a disaster. In fact, I think we could make an advantage out of it."
"I see," said 03. "The final leg of her travel would fall under my jurisdiction," said 03.
"Air travel is so unreliable," said 02. "I have never trusted it myself."
"There is the issue of the attack by the Fourth and Fifth," said 03. "They are scheduled to arrive before we could possibly transfer Unit Two."
Keel leaned back in his chair, and ignored the lancing pains in his spine. "I think the First is in better condition than Ikari would have us believe. In fact, gentlemen, I think he believes he has beaten us at his own game."
"He would not dare," said 02.
"He would," said Keel. "You are both aware of the basis of the Dummy System. In the wrong hands, the technology could be used to create something dangerous."
"As we have done," said 03.
"We had considered the possibility of someone in our organization attempting to prevent our transmigration," said Keel, "but not of subverting it. We are the best and brightest. We are the ones to stand on the shoulders of humanity and ascend the heavens, and none other."
"Agreed," said 02, and 03.
"It was a mistake ever trusting Ikari," said 03. "We should dispose of him immediately."
"He is too entrenched," said 02. "Do not forget the inevitability of our cause. Our victory is foretold by prophecy. Ikari is a tool to be used and discarded. He can be controlled."
"How?" said Keel.
"Allow him to believe he is succeeding, that he has fooled us. In order for his plan to succeed, the children of the First Angel must be destroyed. Our goals are aligned. So long as he is effective, there is no reason to replace him. If we move overtly, he may take action to sabotage us."
"Then the Chairman is correct," said 03. "We position our pieces, and strike when the time comes, not before. I will see that the Second's flight from Vladivostok is properly inspected."
"Good," said Keel. "Very well, my friends. Until next time."
As soon as she laid eyes upon the rental, Misato hated it. It was big and bulky, and it was orange, which was almost the opposite of her favorite color. Unfortunately, the insurance company considered her Alpine a total loss. At least they'd paid it off- she still owed money on it. It was a bit of a surprise that the policy didn't have language that absolved the company of liability in the case of giant monster attacks and accidental nukings. The clerk at the rental office stared at her chest while he handed her the keys, and she made sure to stretch enough that he could see the shoulder holster under her jacket before she opened the door and stepped inside.
She pulled out from the little overhang where they presented her with the car, and immediately loathed it. Accelerating was like trying to drag a pallet of bricks behind the car, and it handled like a roller skate with a turtle on it. Her attempt to drift a bit around the first corner on her route to the school was a sad, pathetic little thing that nary made a sound, and actually forced her to slow down. She sighed and resigned herself to the right hand lane. She had an hour to pick up Shinji and get to the airport to pick up Asuka, who would be coming off of an overnight flight that would no doubt leave her jet-lagged and cranky. At least Shinji had managed to move most of his stuff out of her new room. Misato felt a little pang of guilt moving the boy into what was basically a really big hall closet, but she had to give priority. Asuka, after all, would know where she slept.
When she pulled up to the front of the school, she was pleased to see Shinji walking with some of his classmates. There was a tall boy in a track suit, which made her wonder how he got away with breaking the dress code, and a shorter kid with glasses and scruffy hair, a typical nerdy type. Shinji indicated her car with a nod and the two boys shrugged. Misato put it park, killed the engine, and stepped out. Both boys stared at her, mouths open, and Shinji turned as red as a beet.
"You live with her?" the tall one managed to stammer out.
"Wow!" the short one with the glasses mumbled, fumbling with a video camera. "I… uh… wow…"
"Uh," said Shinji, "Um, Hi, Misato."
"Shinji," Misato purred. "Let's not be late for our date."
Shinji's eyes widened a little, and his glasses rode up his nose. His blush deepened, and his mouth began to work silently.
"We don't want to keep Asuka waiting."
Shinji shook himself out of it and walked along with her, leaving the two boys to stand and stare at her, their eyes sliding down her back as she walked. She put a little extra sway in her hips and resisted the urge to giggle. She just barely heard the one with the camera whisper something about being rich. She managed to get quite a few stares as they got into the car. Once inside, Shinji deflated a little, or maybe inflated, it was hard to say. He let out a breath and relaxed visibly, and his shoulders rolled back, and he sat a little taller in the seat. He seemed a bit taller when he carried himself that way, even sitting down. Misato tilted her head.
"Is something wrong?"
"Nope," she smirked, starting the car. "I think your friends have a crush on me. I didn't get their names."
"Toji," said Shinji, "and Kensuke is the one with the camera. I don't know if we're friends, really. We've just been hanging out a little during school."
"Good," said Misato. "I'm glad you're making friends. After we get Asuka settled in, you should bring them over sometime. I know I'm supposed to keep you busy, but I don't want it to get in the way of you being comfortable here."
Shinji smiled. "Thank you."
Misato smiled back, and floored the accelerator. The car offered up a mighty buzz and lurched forward, the check-engine light fluttering for a bit before it chugged from zero to thirty-five in a blistering ten seconds. Misato fought the urge to grind her teeth as she put on her turn signal and pulled into the right lane once more, and headed for the airport.
The trip was uneventful. Shinji stared out the windows at the scenery, and once they neared the airport, watched the planes flying overhead. Misato glanced at them through the sunroof and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
"You've never flown before?"
He looked a little confused by her question. "No," he said quickly, "Never flown."
"It's not a big deal," said Misato. "Like riding a big bus. I wonder what it would really be like, though. To fly. You know, without an airplane and stuff."
Shinji only shrugged.
She pulled into the airport unloading lane and parked right in front of the terminal entrance, under a long concrete overhang. She watched her reflection in the long glass doors and scowled at the car, which didn't suit her the way her little blue beauty did. Shinji pointedly looked elsewhere as he stepped out, scanning the area around them as if he was expecting something. A security guard in a pompous uniform dashed up to them, belly jiggling as he ran.
"You can't park here!"
Misato flashed her Nerv badge and grinned as the guard deflated.
"Keep an eye on it for me, will you?"
She motioned for Shinji to keep up and headed into the terminal. The identification card got her through security, Shinji in tow, and they made their way through the concourse to Asuka's terminal. She found the big board where the flight times were displayed, and grimaced. Asuka's flight was running a bit late. They had time to eat, maybe, and she remembered that she was hungry, having had nothing to eat since that morning.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a thin streamer of pitch black smoke billowing through the air, and ran down a flight of stairs to the waiting area at the gate. The flight staff had all lined up along the windows, and were pointing, and people were beginning to run around. As it drew nearer, she saw that the long line of smoke was tipped by a plane, flames trailing from one engine. It teetered through the air, tilting from one side to another, and she glanced up at the arrival board again.
Asuka's plane was going down.
"Oh God," said Misato, fumbling in her pocket for her phone. She hit the speed dial for headquarters and put it up to her ear.
"Shinji, go…"
She looked around. She must have lost him in the crowd. The phone was ringing, and finally, someone answered.
"Captain?" said Hyuga.
"We have a situation," said Misato. "Asuka's plane is going down. Inform the…"
She trailed off. She saw the streak of blue and red pass the low row of tall windows before the sound caught up with it, a rippling boom that made the glass wobble in its frames, burbling like a piece of tin in the hands of a child shaking it to make thunder. The crowd around her went silent, and together their heads tracked the object make a low, lazy circle around the runway and spiral upwards, towards the distressed airplane. All around her, cell phones and cameras and camcorders appeared, and there was a murmur, a rumor that rose to a crescendo as someone in the crowd called out.
"What is that?"
You have been reading
Last Child of Krypton: Redux
S
Chapter Three: Up in the Sky