Twelve monoliths glowed in the Commander's office. This time, Ikari was alone: Fuyutsuki was officially still missing. He took this in stride.
"Ikari," 01 began without preamble. "You have failed us again."
Ikari rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "I acted on false information," he corrected. "Don't try to blame me for the Marduk Institute's incompetence."
"You knew the Fourth would have that reaction with Unit-00," accused 03. "You arranged this."
"I trusted that Marduk's recommendation would have some capacity to pilot," Ikari replied. "If you need a scapegoat so desperately, blame the fool who foisted that useless Child on us. I shall, of course, have him removed from Tokyo-3 forthwith."
He was well aware that the Marduk Institute was controlled by Seele, and that they had their own reasons for sending Nagisa to Nerv yesterday. Most likely he was a spy, intending either to map the fortress out for their ultimate attack, or to steal Adam back. Probably both. Knowing that his so-called benefactors couldn't admit what they all knew was the most satisfying part of these meetings. That, and screwing them over.
"The Marduk Institute was not in error," said 11. "The Fourth is a suitable Eva pilot."
"His début synchronisation left our testing facility a smoking ruin," said Ikari. "It was only due to the intervention of the Second Child that the incident was contained."
"Nevertheless," said 06, "the failure had less to do with any intrinsic lack of ability than the fact that he was assigned an inappropriate Evangelion. Try him again with one of the other Units."
"If this extrinsic lack of ability appeared in the context of one of the combat Evas, or worse, during an attack, we could be unable to subdue it without inflicting critical damage, leaving us with only two Units. Assuming the pattern of progressively stronger Angels over time continues without further deviations, this would pose an unacceptable risk … unless we had another Eva for the test."
The monoliths shouted over one another in their outrage. 01 let it continue for a minute before clearing his throat; the noise instantly died down. "You are not content with three Evangelions, Ikari?"
"Three Units were barely enough against three of the four most recent Angels," not counting the one he still insisted had never existed. "If the Council expects Nerv to risk two of those three while continuing to defeat ever-stronger Angels – bearing in mind that a single defeat would mean Third Impact, and the failure of the Scenario – then a fourth is essential. After all, we cannot forget the possibility of another … accidental … power failure during an attack, since the investigation into the last one was inconclusive."
"The last Angel was easily within Nerv's capacity," 07 observed. "A single Eva sufficed to dispatch it."
"It demonstrated that Angels are in fact capable of attacking in very rapid succession, contrary to what the Dead Sea Scrolls indicated. If a strong Angel had attacked then, then with our limited repairs, we could have been overrun. And if any of the Scrolls' other predictions are mistaken, there's no guarantee that any of our plans will be effective."
"And what guarantee do we have, Ikari, of your plans?" asked 08. "If you control four Evas and pilots, Lilith, Adam, the Lance of Longinus, and three Magi, you would be in an excellent position to subvert the Scenario to your own ends."
"Your Scenario is my Scenario," Ikari replied. "In any case, Third Impact is in neither of our interests. Add whatever oversight you consider appropriate, but it is vital that we receive Unit-03 or -04 before the next attack, with enough time to synchronise the Fourth and ideally to train with the other pilots. It is also vital that we receive the budget for a new testing facility," he added, repressing the urge to snigger.
"You expect us to believe you would accept a leash so readily?" asked 12.
"I am Seele's loyal agent," Ikari said. It didn't really count as a lie if no-one present believed it.
"The Council will consider your request," said 01. "Leave us." Ikari vanished from the holographic conference. "Where is Tabris?"
"My sources report he is still in Matsushiro," said 03. "He should have intelligence within 36 hours."
"Assuming Ikari does not deport him. Or execute him," 04 observed.
"He would not dare," said 02.
"You think Ikari would not dare?" 08 asked, amused. "Have you never met the man? At this point, I suspect his desire to secure Unit-03 is the only thing keeping Tabris alive."
"On a related note, my ward grows rebellious," said 12. "We request permission to tighten security in the Himalayas facility."
There was a vote. Six ayes, two nays, four abstentions. 01 abstained. Permission granted.
"There remains the question of Units -03 and -04," said 08. "If we do, Ikari has gained more power over us; but if we do not, Tabris will die, and we risk Third Impact."
"Unacceptable," said 05. "My country has invested far too much to see them ceded to Ikari."
"When Eschaton arrives, we will still have the power to defeat Nerv, should the need even arise," 03 said. "The mass-produced Units will outnumber four Evas. And we have no shortage of pilots."
"Any power Ikari may gain from an additional Unit is therefore illusory," 01 ruled. "And let us not forget, there will be four Evas in Nerv, but there will not be four with pilots loyal to Ikari. Tabris is not merely a spy; he is our vanguard."
"This is outrageous," 05 insisted. "I demand recompense for my losses."
"You shall have it," 01 said. "For now, though, Tabris must have his chariot. Give the order. Authorise the deployment."
…
"Hurry up, Third! We're going to be late!"
"We wouldn't" puff "be late" pant "if you hadn't" huff "overslept!"
"Oh, it's so easy for you to say, mister 'I'll show up half an hour after the action's already over'!"
"Just hurry" gasp "we're almost there!"
The two Children ran up the stairs and down the corridor and reached Classroom 2-A just as Hikari finished her rise-bow-sit routine. Hikari gave Asuka a 'We're friends, but do you really have to do this so often?' look.
The teacher gave them a glance and shrugged. He and Nerv had an arrangement: he didn't give the Children too many detentions, and Section Two didn't shoot him. "Please take your –"
"Reh?" Asuka exclaimed, pointing. "What the hell is he doing here? I thought you were dead!"
Shinji got his breath and looked over her shoulder. A handsome, elegant boy he'd never seen before was lounging in a seat at the back. The boy had a wide smile, grey hair, and red eyes. They didn't get many transfers into Tokyo-3, target of all the Angel attacks.
"No; I survived yesterday just fine, Pilot Soryu," he said affably. "But thank you for your concern."
"I don't mean yesterday, I mean seven years – wait, yesterday? Don't tell me it was you who –"
"Asuka!" Hikari snapped, turning pink.
"Please take your seats," the teacher repeated.
Fists clenched and face red, Asuka marched to her desk, booted up her laptop, and began typing forcefully, as though the keyboard had done her a great personal wrong, not even pretending to be taking notes with it.
SoryuA: what are you do here?
Shinji winced. She was so angry she'd used the public rather than private message function without realising, and her kanji were off. There was no stopping her now.
NagisaK: I'm a student here now. Major Katsuragi said that all the pilots were to enrol here, so that Nerv's security could protect us all appropriately.
SoryuA: your the 4th child! that lying skank said i didnt know you!
Kaworu's smile curved upward for a moment, as though he were suppressing a snort of laughter. Shinji was surprised that Kaworu didn't seem to be attracting as much attention as Shinji had when he was first outed as a pilot, in that he wasn't being mobbed; perhaps the novelty of pilots had worn off after the first three, or perhaps it was just that he hadn't killed any Angels yet. On the other hand, more than a few girls were eyeing him with interest.
NagisaK: Perhaps she thought you might react badly?
SoryuA: ugh, shut up, smarmy
SoryuA: how you even still alive?
NagisaK: Well, I suppose I didn't die. What do you expect me to say?
SoryuA: freaking great. your back for all of two minutes and your already spout your stupid evasive nonanswer bullcrap
SoryuA: why are you still here? its pretty obvious you cant pilot. i mean, normal if i said that id just mean you were a crap pilot, but at least those idiots sit on your left dont blow up Nerv whenever they get in the plug.
SoryuA: pretty big usability issue there
NagisaK: I don't know what to say, except the synchrographers think it's worth a try! I believe a new Eva is scheduled to arrive shortly, and that I shall be expected to synchronise with that instead.
SoryuA: synchrographer isnt even a word smarmy. their waste a production model on you?
HorakiH: Asuka, Nagisa just got here. You'll fluster him!
SoryuA: look at him, hikari. he doesnt get flustered. he just sits there, smirking like a jackass.
Hikari, who alone was halfway trying to listen to the lecture, glanced at him. He was indeed still smiling, unfazed by Asuka's invective. In fact, all of the girls had taken more than a few looks at him. The only exception was Rei, who had given him only a perfunctory glance when he came in, before returning to stare out the window.
AidaK: theres another eva coming? whats it like? spill!
NagisaK: I'm afraid I don't know much about it; they don't tell pilots much about technical details. I think it's built from the same specifications as Pilot Soryu's; I heard something about mass production. The only difference I know of is that this one is orange.
SakakiT: Mister Nagisa, if you're new to Tokyo-3, would you like me to show you around town after class?
Sakaki's friends giggled at her forwardness, and fell over themselves to volunteer to help. Asuka scowled at their vapidity, until her attention was redirected to her laptop by a private message.
IkariS: Asuka, how did you know Nagisa before yesterday?
SoryuA: he was one of the three candidate children at Nerv-Germany, there was this training school there. i hated him. one day there was an accident with him and the other candidate, and i was sure they both died. they mustve just been moved to other facilities than mine. Nerv was probably afraid of losing all their pilots at once.
It occurred to Shinji that he still had no idea how Children were selected. He and Rei were both Japanese, and Asuka and Nagisa were apparently both half-German, so they probably weren't randomly selected from all the children on Earth. Perhaps it was genetic? That would imply that Asuka and Kaworu were related, and himself and Rei.
IkariS: Is he related to you somehow?
SoryuA: are you stupid? we look nothing alike, we ACT nothing alike, hes a smarmy idiot and cant pilot, why would you even ask? NO!
IkariS: Sorry! It's just that, you know. You're both pilots. You're both half-German.
IkariS: You're about as tall as each other?
She swivelled around to give him an incredulous stare, because mere words could not articulate her disbelief at his stupidity. Then she turned back to her computer to try anyway.
SoryuA: do … do you think theres only one family in all of Germany? seriously, give me a hint here.
IkariS: Sorry!
SoryuA: i could almost believe smarmy was related to ayanami, with the eyes and the fact theyre both really weird, if she werent pure Japanese.
Shinji glanced back at Nagisa. He was looking around the classroom, touch-typing and only occasionally reading the IMs on his screen. After a moment, Shinji realised he was putting faces to names by following who was typing when, and was impressed: he himself had only really managed it with three people who weren't pilots, and he'd been there for months.
On his screen appeared a group conversation between Misato and all four pilots.
MajorlyMisato: Hi guys. Wanted to let you know the synch test is cancelled today.
IkariS: Okay.
IkariS: Wait, how are you on the school network? I thought it was private.
There was a pause.
MajorlyMisato: Is that a serious question?
SoryuA: a better one is, how come your name isnt locked like the rest of ours are?
MajorlyMisato: Because I didn't want it to be. :)
MajorlyMisato has left the conversation.
NagisaK: I suppose that gives us time to introduce ourselves properly after school.
SoryuA: the idiot and i cant. well have to hurry home to feed the penguin. oh well, too bad, so sad.
SoryuA has left the conversation.
NagisaK: … the penguin? Was that the autocorrect?
IkariS: No, we really do live with a penguin, and he does usually like a late lunch. Sorry.
IkariS: She probably will want me to go with her. Rei's probably free? Or we'll meet up properly at Nerv another day?
NagisaK: I look forward to it, Ikari Shinji. :)
NagisaK has left the conversation.
IkariS has left the conversation.
Rei's gaze finally swept down to her monitor. In so doing, she took the tiniest glance at Shinji, and again when she looked back up to the window.
Two more private messages appeared on Kaworu's screen, both in German. His smile flickered for a moment, before recovering. He answered the more obnoxious one first.
?: What do you have to report?
NagisaK: The teacher here is quite obsessed with the post-Impact wars. I don't think the other Children are going to have very good groundings in the sciences or arts. It's a shame.
NagisaK: I hope there's a music room here. I haven't played in days.
?: Do not trifle with us, Tabris! What about Nerv?
NagisaK: I haven't been allowed into HQ yet. I have nothing to report aside from school.
He hesitated for a moment, but it wasn't quite a lie. He also had his impressions of the other Children, and a lot of conjecture about certain other individuals, but they were after all students at the school, and guesswork wasn't really information, no matter how accurate it probably was.
NagisaK: Incidentally, I'm in class right now, and I assume this network is monitored.
?: Outside of this connection, it is.
NagisaK: Mmhmm. But it's still susceptible to side channel attacks, such as other students reading over my shoulder.
Since he was at the back, there was in fact no-one who could, but he still took the excuse to close the window and focus on the other.
TM: This sucks.
NagisaK: Oh? What sucks?
TM: There are guards everywhere. I'm not allowed to do anything. I can't see anything from my window. And you haven't even been online to cheer me up. Why not? Have they raised your security too?
NagisaK: Not exactly.
TM: Oh? Why not? Or why have they increased mine?
NagisaK: I expect they're more worried about you, Schätzchen, since they can't really guard me any more. Nerv wouldn't approve. I'm in Tokyo-3 now.
TM: What? Seeing the city?
NagisaK: As a matter of fact, five lovely young ladies have just offered me a tour. I'm the Fourth Child now. I'm sorry; I would have told you sooner, but the past few days have been very eventful, and Mrs Bauer's kept me blacked out.
NagisaK: I'll tell you all about it; just give me a moment, there are other people trying to talk to me.
There came a flurry of messages from other students, and he replied to them and tabbed out to take notes on what the teacher was saying, including the phrase 'glorious resolution' which struck his fancy for some reason. It wasn't until several minutes later that he realised that his second secret correspondent had been silent for a while.
NagisaK: Are you still there, Schätzchen?
NagisaK: Please.
NagisaK: Don't do anything rash.
NagisaK: Schätzchen.
NagisaK: Schatz?
NagisaK: Oh dear.
Seele would definitely want to hear about this. On one hand, he had a good feeling for what she would do, and what their reaction would be, and she'd really appreciate a head start. On the other, if she did do what he thought she would, there was literally no way they could not find out about it, and it would strengthen their trust in him if he told them first. His instinct was to keep quiet, but it wasn't really a choice if you always did the same thing.
NagisaK: Sir?
?: I told you not to contact us outside of emergencies. What is it?
NagisaK: An emergency. You should contact 12. I have a premonition of doom in the Himalayas.
…
"There's not much to do now," Misato said to her crew. "Not when we're waiting on the construction crews to fix Matushiro. Stay on call until six, but I'm calling this an early weekend. See you all Monday."
"A whole weekend?" Shigeru mused, gathering his things. "I can't remember the last time we had one of those."
"I know, right?" said Makoto. "Hopefully it'll give me time to find a new apartment."
"What's wrong with your old one?" Maya asked, following them out of Central Dogma.
"Rei stepped on it. During the battle with the tenth." Maya winced.
"He's been sleeping on my couch ever since," Shigeru added.
"And no offence man, but it's time I got my own place again," Makoto said.
"No complaints here. 'Waah! Stop playing that sweet Strat just because it's eleven pm, Shigeru!'"
"I swear, if I hear Wonderwall one more time, Unit-00 won't be the only one going berserk."
"Doesn't Nerv provide housing for employees?" Maya asked.
"Yes, but it's awful," said Makoto. "Imagine one of those sardine student rooms, except that instead of being full of intelligent, interesting college students going through an experimental phase, it's packed with chain smoking janitors and despair."
"Well, it can't be too hard to find a good place," Maya said brightly; Ritsuko had inoculated her against cigarette smoke. "A lot of people have moved out of Tokyo-3 since the Angels started coming. There have to be plenty of cheap rooms."
As their voices faded from hearing, Misato reopened the tarball of satellite photos that Ritsuko had sent her earlier. The first was at low zoom, and showed a mountaintop. It looked as though someone had picked a fight with it and very nearly won: the peak had been blown off. There were pieces of a burnt-out ruin scattered about, still smoking, partially buried by snow. A pair of Hawk VTOLs was apparently out on patrol, and there was a photo of the wreckage of a third, crumpled like a piece of paper and crashed in the snow. There were shots of miscellaneous bits of rubble; a plate of metal, twisted and carbon-blackened but on which, miraculously, one could still read N2; and something which might once have been part of a simulation entry plug. The email included the coordinates and timestamp, which were in the Himalayas, early afternoon, or mid-morning local time. She shook her head, closed the file, finished the last of her urgent paperwork, arranged for extended hours for the weekend shifts, and switched her computer off. She stretched and arched her back, eliciting pops all down her spine.
"Knock knock," said Kaji, appearing in her open doorway. "I was worried I'd miss you."
"You should be more worried about whether I miss you," Misato replied, moving her arm so that her gun was clearly visible against her jacket. "Nobody likes a tattletale. What do you want?"
"Oh, lots of things. Money. Love. I'd settle for a few drinks."
Misato considered emphasising her gun again, but on second thoughts, they really had to clear the air at some point. "Why not?"
…
When the final bell rang and Kaworu stood to leave, he was mobbed by girls. He took it in stride and led them from the room. Asuka glared at Hikari, who was trailing along behind him, but the class rep paid her no attention.
"Come on," she snapped at Shinji. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him from the room.
"Wait," Kensuke began, "Shinji, I was hoping –"
But Asuka shot him such a ferocious look that he shut up without another word.
"Jeez, I didn't think he was that good-looking," Toji said, of Kaworu. "Maybe you should try selling photos of him to the girls. He'd probably be happy to model them for you. He gives off that sort of vibe, you know?"
Kensuke stared after him, wishing Misato would let him pilot, before returning to the task at hand. "Yeah. So, um, Toji. You know I have that date with Murakami now, right?"
"Right. So I'm walking home alone today. No worries. Let me know how it goes."
"No! I meant, you have to come with me."
Toji raised an eyebrow. "You realise dates are usually for only two people, right? Wait. Are you trying to set me up with a friend of hers or something?"
"What? No. I've never been on a date before, Toji. What am I supposed to do?"
The bigger boy shrugged. "I don't know. You're going to the mall, right? Shop. Or get something to eat. Or see a movie or something. There's probably an arcade there. Mall things. If you don't know what people do at malls, why did you ask to see her at one?"
"And what if I can't carry a conversation? What if I get nervous? You have to come. Just for a little bit."
"You – somehow – get a date with an alright-looking girl, and literally the first thought you have is to turn it into not a date? I know I'm not an expert, but don't you think she might not like it if she's expecting to see you alone and you have someone with you?"
Kensuke gave him a pleading look. He sighed.
…
Maya slid her apartment door shut and heaved a sigh. Working for Nerv was rewarding – she was under one of the most brilliant scientists on Earth, at the top of her field, and helping save the human race, after all – but it could be exhausting. One really had to become one's job; it didn't leave a lot of time to be oneself.
She was by nature a hoarder. Her home was littered with souvenirs she picked up at markets, and gifts from travelling relatives: matryoshka dolls, jade pendants, amateur paintings, endless arrays of scented candles, idols, colourful bits of cloth, and cheap metal brooches. Contrasting with all this were piles of textbooks on biology, archaeology, computing, neurology, astronomy, structural mechanics, human anatomy, pure mathematics, molecular biology, and Keynesian economics, scattered across benches and counters in no discernible order; fiction, largely pulp romantic comedies or sci-fi adventures, and one horror novel she dared herself to read a few pages of every few weeks; and a wardrobe of dresses in every style, cut, and colour imaginable. This also contrasted with a few pieces of high-end technology, including a massage chair and a wide-screen TV linked to her PC, but not enough to label her a technophile; there was only a very modest sound system, her Internet connection was slow and tended to drop out, and she rode an underpowered budget electric scooter rather than a car, when she didn't just take public transport.
She had a flatmate, a vague, artsy type named Ami who seemed to have a 27-hour circadian rhythm, but Maya hadn't seen her in about two months. She would have assumed the other woman had fled the city following one Angel attack or another, probably the tenth, except her share of the rent kept coming in (frequently late), and their cupboards were still slowly accumulating exotic teas, which Maya never bought.
She stripped off her uniform and threw it onto a cabinet which also housed a print-out of a paper on applied myology, an unsolved Rubik's cube, and a spun glass sculpture of Maneki Neko, leaving herself in just her underwear. She headed to her fridge, poured herself a glass of the cheap sake her salary afforded, and went to her massage chair, but it was already occupied by a naked copy of herself. She set her sake down.
She stared at the doppelgänger for a full ten seconds, then wordlessly turned on her heel. She went to her bedroom and donned a sensible white-and-blue dress, then returned.
"Okay," she said aloud, "why is there a naked mannequin of me here?"
The second Maya turned to her and smiled. "Hi!"
"Who are you?"
"I'm Maya!"
"No. I'm Maya."
"I'm Maya!"
Maya frowned, leant forward, and took the copy's wrist. It was warm and had a pulse. She ran her hand over her face; it was firm but pliable, just like regular human skin, with no visible scars or other defects. So she wasn't a robot or someone with plastic surgery, unless it was a damned good surgeon.
"Why do you look like me?"
The other woman glanced down at herself and seemed to think hard for a long moment. Then she brightened and looked up.
"This is how Maya looks!"
Maya opened her mouth, shut it again, and pulled out her phone.
"Superintendent? Ibuki Maya here, I live in apartment 3-M. Yes. Yes. I was just wondering whether you'd given out any copies of my keys lately? Oh, no reason, just making sure, there was a security scare at work today. No, that's fine. Take care."
She looked back at her double, which was regarding her with interest.
"This is too surreal to be a kidnapping or identity theft," she decided. "No-one's been giggling about seeing naked pictures of me on the Internet, so probably no-one else has seen you. You don't seem smart enough to be good at hiding, so you're probably just a figment of my imagination."
"I'm Maya!" said the copy. Maya slapped a palm to her forehead.
…
"Oh, no. She's not coming."
"It's only ten minutes after you scheduled, Kensuke. Seriously, get a grip."
They were waiting in the food court of the local mall, and had been for the past quarter hour. Kensuke was slowly going insane, and taking Toji with him.
"Why would she not come at four when I said to come at four unless she's not coming?!"
Toji pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe because normal people don't take 'Let's meet up at maybe about four' as 'Come at four on the dot or I'll commit seppuku'. Look, worst comes to worst, we can just go to the arcade." He glanced over; Kensuke was still bouncing around in agitation. "Say, you're looking kind of clammy. Maybe you should wash your face before she gets here?"
Kensuke felt his face. "Oh no. I feel all slimy and disgusting. Aah!" And he ran off for the nearest bathroom.
Toji heaved a sigh and looked for other things that might possibly calm his friend down. Coffee was right out, he was pretty sure you weren't supposed to eat before a date in case the other person wanted to, and he couldn't think of any sedatives that you could buy over the counter. As he was thinking, Yuki wandered into sight, looking around.
"Hey!" he called, waving to her. "Yuki, right?"
She sized him up with an expression like someone at a good restaurant whose dessert has just arrived and looks even better than the photo on the menu. "Hey there. And I thought fake DPs were supposed to make people look better, not worse."
"Huh?" he said, colouring slightly. She had very piercing eyes, and showed just as many teeth in real life as online. The Class Rep was right: she did look like she bit. "I'm not Kensuke. I'm his friend, Toji."
"Rrreally? What, Kensuke wanted muscle in case I was a mugger?"
"I guess," Toji said. Yuki laughed; he laughed along with her, more out of sympathetic reaction than anything else.
"So, you have a girlfriend?"
…
Sakaki Tsuruko was the picture of young Japanese beauty: long, silky black hair, a slim figure, and a perfect face which had somehow entered puberty without any acne. She had been the prettiest girl in class other than Rei, who wasn't interested in playing the game anyway, until Asuka had arrived and usurped the position more from being exotic than being objectively better-looking. She therefore had the boldness of one used to getting her way with boys, and had done her level best to monopolise Kaworu's attention ever since school let out. He was gorgeous, after all. She even would have tried to compete with Asuka over him, had she been present, but fortunately the flashier girl had made it clear she wasn't interested.
Tsuruko took this as meaning she had full rights to do as she pleased, and had taken Kaworu's side while they visited the mall and bought a late lunch. There was no need to chase off the other girls; in fact it would be better to let them tag along, because none of them was brassy enough to do anything at all with witnesses, and this way they'd all see him accepting her claim.
"This is a really good location," Tsuruko said, as they walked the block from the tram stop. "I used to live in a flat more than a kilometre from the tram. It was such a hassle going out, you know?" As they walked, she deftly looped an arm through his, passing it off as a way to draw his attention and point out Kaworu's apartment. He was slim, but she could feel wiry muscles under his sleeve. "Is that the one?"
It was an upmarket area, comfortable without being lavish. "Yes," he said. "I'm only just getting settled; I'm afraid we don't have tea or really anything else to drink, and it's not decorated."
The other girls wilted: he had made no move to dislodge her arm. They had lost without any of them firing a shot. Hikari huffed, telling herself it was at the impropriety of a girl touching a boy she barely knew, in public. Kaworu led them into an elevator; it was cramped with so many people.
"I know!" Tsuruko said brightly. "Why don't we help you decorate? It takes a woman's touch to do something like that properly. We'll go shopping after school on Wednesday; that's only a half-day. And we can help you stock up on tea and things. Right, girls?"
"That'd be great!" said Sato Kinuko, Tsuruko's less-attractive but bubbly best friend.
Hikari frowned, aware that she was being outmanoeuvred but not sure how or what she could do about it. One thing she had in common with Asuka was that neither girl was particularly subtle.
"I'd like that," said Kaworu, "but I'll need to clear it with my guardian first. She's very strict." The elevator opened; he led them down a carpeted hall.
"Oh, come on," Tsuruko said, batting her eyelashes, "surely nobody would object to a welcome gift for a brave Eva pilot from the people he's going to protect. Horaki, couldn't you tell her that we did the same for Asuka and Ikari when they transferred in? She'd have to believe the Class Rep." She pronounced the capitals.
Hikari blinked. They had of course done no such thing, but she wasn't socially oblivious enough to point this out. "I can if you want, Nagisa?"
"We'll see," he said. He slipped his arm out of Tsuruko's, produced a key, and unlocked his apartment.
It was clean but spartan inside, with little furniture and no carpet. There was potential, though; it was large and airy, the pule blue wallpaper made it feel like it was open to the sky, there were wide windows, and the insulation kept the noise of Tokyo-3's interminable construction to a dull throb. A severe-looking woman in a business shirt and skirt sat at a desk, typing at a laptop; she didn't turn when Kaworu entered.
"Hello, Mrs Bauer," he said. "I've brought company."
She turned at last, minimising her work with a few keystrokes. "Oh, hello," she said in Japanese that obviously wasn't her first language, then switched to German. « Kaworu, what are you doing? Why have you brought civilians back here? You're supposed to be befriending the other pilots. »
« I'm working on that. These ones followed me. I think the tall one likes me. » "I'm sorry; she's not as comfortable with Japanese," he added to his girls.
« You're supposed to be a pilot and working for Seele, not running around chasing every skirt in the school. You haven't even been into the Geofront yet! »
« Of course I haven't. They don't have an Eva for me. If I went down there, they'd let me see the cafeteria and then tell me the tour was over. This way, I'm at least familiarised with the surface. »
« Your job isn't to find excuses for why you haven't done your job. »
« But what a job that would be. » "I'm sorry, but she's angry with me. I have paperwork I should have filled out by now, for the transfer and for Nerv, and she wants me to talk with the other pilots before we actually pilot together."
"Oh, all of them?" Tsuruko asked, with wide-eyed innocence. "Even Ayanami?"
"Why not?"
"Oh, it's nothing. I really shouldn't say. Well … I overheard her talking about you with Ikari, at recess. She was saying some really mean things about you, and he was saying she should act nicer to you, to at least pretend."
Hikari blinked. Rei was prettier than Tsuruko, would have more opportunities to talk to Kaworu, and now she had no chance with him. She was impressed.
She tried to hide her surprise, and did just well enough that Kaworu could pretend not to notice. He projected disappointment into his voice. "Really? That's a pity; I was hoping we'd be able to work together well. At least Ikari sounds nice."
"He is," Tsuruko said with a smile, "cute, too, but he's so quiet. Good luck with that. Well, I guess we'll see you tomorrow, then? In fact, this place is only a little bit out of my way; why don't I meet you at the corner at eighty twenty?"
"Sure!" he said. "Goodbye, everyone; thank you for showing me around the city today." Beaming, he shut the door. « What a bitch. »
…
Asuka and Shinji sat at the TV. Asuka had the remote and was flicking through channels; when she had first moved in, he had briefly thought they could take turns, but right now he didn't care either way.
"Do you ever think about how much better TV would be if pre-Impact soaps weren't so boring?"
Shinji nodded. "Yeah."
"Or if Misato paid for decent cable."
"Yeah."
"Or if I hadn't worn a shirt today."
"Yeah."
She kicked him, without putting her hips into it. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes!"
She kicked him again. "Liar. What's so important you think you can ignore me over it?"
"I don't …" Shinji rubbed his calf. "Asuka, what happened seven years ago?"
"I already told you that."
"You said they were moved to other facilities than yours. Like you were moved too. If they just wanted to split you up for safety, why would you need to move, too?"
She let out a huff, obviously not wanting to discuss the grey-haired boy, but she switched the TV off and rolled onto her side to face him properly. "Okay, so Nerv had this base in Berlin, right? Third Branch. It was a lot like HQ, but above ground, no Geofront there or anything. I lived on site for a while, in a dorm with Smarmy and this other girl. We had tutors instead of school, and had to do synch tests most days. About what you'd expect. This was back before they'd even designed the modern system; they weren't testing our synch scores, they were getting data to build the system." It therefore didn't count that Kaworu had frequently beaten her.
"They had a base?" repeated Shinji.
"Right. So, one day, something went wrong. Probably something to do with the prototype Eva they were trying to build there, I guess? This was before they had even started designing Unit-00, way more primitive than Unit-02, so they didn't know what they were doing. Whatever. There was one of those AT explosions, like at Matsushiro yesterday, and it blew half the city apart. I heard someone call it Little Third Impact, after.
"I was off-base at the time, visiting … somewhere, I don't remember … which was lucky, because everyone at ground zero was vaporised. Or so I thought. I didn't think anyone could possibly have survived an explosion like that; even the outlying suburbs were on fire days later."
"Haven't we all blown up … at least twice each?" said Shinji, ticking the third, sixth, seventh, tenth, and eleventh Angels off on his fingers. "If you count that N2 mine from the other night, I'm on five."
"We were in Evas at the time, idiot. He wasn't. He should've been turned to atoms. Smarmy, greasy atoms." She clicked the TV on, surfed through three channels, and turned it off again. "There's nothing good on, and the log's just full of unfunny sitcoms. Shinji, do something fun."
"Um, what?" he asked, his mind leaping back to what she'd said about her shirt. He tried to quash it.
"You're a boy, aren't you?"
He sputtered. "What's that got to do with anything?" he asked, wrenching his eyes up to meet hers again.
"How do you expect to get a girlfriend if you spend your Fridays sitting around like a loser?" she asked. "You don't go out shopping or play sports. So, what?"
"But you're not doing anything either."
"Strike one."
"Um. We could … start our homework?"
"Strike two," she said menacingly.
He cast around, trying to look anywhere but at her breasts. "We still have those DDR mats from when we were training for the seventh Angel. We could –"
"Didn't we swear never to speak of those again?"
"Er," said Shinji. He thought they'd only sworn never to mention the matching leotards Misato had made them wear. He'd actually quite liked the mats; their dance routine was difficult enough to fill his entire mind and make him forget about everything, without involving excruciating physical pain like battles generally did. "I could play you something on my cello? I guess? If you promise not to laugh?"
Asuka turned to him, with something approximating a modicum of respect in her eyes. "You have a cello? I didn't figure you for the musical type. How has this never come up before?"
"My teacher made me learn when I was little, but I haven't felt like practising since I got here."
"So, you don't really like it."
"Mm … no, I do. It's relaxing."
She tried to wrap her head around the notion of liking something but never doing it, without success. "Are you any good?"
"Um. Sort of? I don't have much natural talent, but I have been doing it for nine years, so …"
He trailed off. She held his gaze for long moments.
"Well?"
He started. "Um. Well what?"
"Why are you still here, and not getting your cello to serenade me?"
He pulled away from her hypnotic gaze and scurried to his little room, flushed and trying to think of anything else. He kept his cello in the spare wardrobe; he'd tried leaving it out after his old teacher had it freighted to Tokyo-3, but then he felt too guilty about not practising. He took it back to the living room and sat down; Asuka examined the instrument closely but kept her judgement to herself. He played a few notes and tuned it; she nodded approval of his ear.
"… Well?" she asked, after he hesitated for a moment too long.
"I've never played for anyone before," he said.
"So? Just do it. It'll be like I'm not even here."
"I can't."
"Shinji, you're being a coward again."
"I can't!"
"What was even the point of bringing it up if you're not going to play it? I bet you can't play at all. You just keep it in your room so you can bring it out and impress innocent, gullible young girls."
"I can too!"
"Doesn't sound like it."
"Well, what do you want me to play?"
She bit back her first response of 'whatever'. "Well, when in doubt, you should always pick one of Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven. I don't really like Mozart. Bach then. Air on the G string?"
"That's not arranged for cello."
"Third!"
He began.
The transposed notes came unevenly, with semitone mistakes and uncontrolled dynamics, but unmistakably Air. Asuka gave a superior little smile that he didn't see. As the piece progressed, Shinji relaxed, forgetting about his audience and remembering how to play properly; his phrasing smoothed out, the mistakes dwindled and vanished altogether, and the dynamics began flowing. Asuka's eyes shut, her face smoothed over, and she appeared to fall asleep, spellbound. In her mind's eye, she saw a couple, a handsome young man and a beautiful woman in a crinoline, dancing around a ballroom; there was a dreamlike quality and she couldn't see either of their faces, except that both were smiling.
She gave a brief round of applause when he finished. "Not bad at all, Third. We should do a duet sometime. See if I can't teach you a thing or two."
"You play?" he asked. "What?"
"Guess."
He thought. "It's not singing. I've never heard you sing in the shower, and I've heard you and the class rep talking about how much you both hate karaoke." Also, privately, he couldn't imagine her having a particularly sweet singing voice; he'd heard her swearing in guttural German too many times for that.
"No, I don't sing," Asuka agreed.
"Woodwind?" He tried to picture it. "No. Not brass, either. Drums … I could see you having fun playing them, but you wouldn't be bragging about it to me if it was that. Real musicians are never impressed by drummers. Guitar? That feels closer, but that'd be more Misato than you. So something stringed. Violin."
She poked out her tongue. "And you were doing so well. Not violin."
He thought for a moment. "Oh. Piano."
In hindsight, it was obvious. A single instrument spanning seven octaves, where one musician could be an entire band and carry three or even four parts at once. An orchestra might have many violins, but only one piano. That had Asuka written all over it.
"They said at Nerv-Berlin that it might help with synchronising," she said, nodding. "Back then, they didn't really know how to do it – it wasn't like today, when any idiot can just hop in an entry plug – they made us try a bunch of things like that."
She didn't add that Kaworu had been better than her at music – entirely through natural ability, of course – and that she'd spent every spare hour of the day practising just to beat him.
"I think there's a piano in the music room at school," Shinji said. "I'll ask Misato to give us a lift on Monday so I can take my cello."
"Where is Misato, anyway?" Asuka asked, licking her lips.
"I don't know; I thought she'd be home by now," Shinji said.
Asuka scowled. "Well, then play me something else. I can't imagine what's taking her so long."
…
Misato giggled and pulled Kaji into the alleyway behind their bar. He followed gamely; she seized him by the tie, pushed him against a wall, and kissed him. His hands wrapped around the small of her back; hers unbuttoned his shirt and slid up his chest.
"Mm …"
The distribution of the weight he was carrying shifted by about a kilo, and he felt a cool ring of metal pressed against his jaw, out of sight of anyone watching.
"Let's chat," Misato smiled.
"You have my undivided attention," Kaji said amiably.
"So, normally I think it's fair to say I'm pretty focused during battles," she said. "Eyes on the prize and all that. But I do spare some attention for my surroundings. One thing is that you're usually pretty interested in watching."
"Who wouldn't be?" he asked.
"Shinji. And no-one else on Earth," she agreed. "Let's see. You were on the bridge when we fought the seventh."
"I was particularly invested in that. It was my plan, after all. And I missed the eighth and ninth."
She scowled. "I remember. But I know you were sniffing around when we fought the tenth, and during the … glitch with the Magi, and again with the twelfth. But you were nowhere to be found when the eleventh attacked. Where were you?"
"Catching up on my beauty sleep. I'm not on call 24/7, and it was during the early hours."
"You may be completely irresponsible and never do any work of any description, ever," said Misato, "but no-one would miss potentially the end of the world because they felt like sleeping in."
"I have faith in your abilities," Kaji smiled. "Don't you?"
There came a gentle click from around his sternum.
"Be careful," he said. "Like they say, if the safety's off, never point a gun at anything you wouldn't want to see destroyed."
"I'm not," she said. "And your heretofore-unseen fidelity aside, I think that at least one of your masters is very interested in how Central Dogma operates during a crisis. That would explain why you skipped the fight with the eighth: we weren't operating from there anyway. And as for the ninth …"
"I seem to recall spending that in an elevator with you," he said.
"Which was odd, because we both know that one of your masters was responsible for that blackout, so you should have been ready for it. Using it as an excuse to grope me – while in character – would be so unprofessional that I would have discounted it … if I hadn't found this in Central Dogma afterwards."
She pulled from her pocket a tiny wireless bug.
"And you think I put that there?" Kaji asked, finally losing his smile.
"If I could prove it, would I have bothered telling you all this, or would I have just shot you?" she asked. "I kept Central Dogma locked down for three days after the battle with the eleventh, and definitely not the twelfth, Angel, to look for more of these. And I didn't find any.
"Now I know that you know that we refine our processes over time. Ritsuko writes Magi subroutines, Hyuga adds to the technicians' checklists, I recommend different weapons configurations for the Evas. We do this whenever we notice any room for improvement, and especially after every battle. If you want your information to be current, you need to keep up with all of that. But you didn't even try. So I think you weren't in HQ at all at the time.
"I also remember that the Commander just so happened to be out of the country during the battle. So I'm thinking, what if this wasn't a coincidence? What if you were there with him?"
"What if I was? I thought your grudge was against the Angels, not Seele. They do pay your wages, you know."
"Nerv is a military organisation, and like any military, it runs on trust. Nerv exists to defeat the Angels. I can trust that. Seele is … opaque. I don't know what it wants. You don't know, or you're not telling, or I wouldn't believe you anyway."
"Seele wants the Angels defeated too," he said.
"They don't want to all die, imagine that. I don't know what else they want."
Kaji was silent.
"Whatever it is, I can't trust them. That means I can't trust you. When the Operational Director doesn't trust someone, he winds up dead."
"I don't think you're going to shoot me."
"Tonight? No." She clicked the safety back on and put his gun back in its holster inside his jacket. "But I sent my adoptive son on a suicide mission with an N2 mine less than a week ago, and I dunked my adoptive daughter in molten lava. I love them, and consider them vital to my mission. Don't tell me what I won't do."
She straightened her jacket, turned, and left.