Neon Genesis Evangelion

Cruel human antithesis

You know they don't hate you for anything you've done.

But they still hate me.

You won't find love everywhere. Learning to deal with that is part of growing up.

They're unreasonable for hating me and you know that.

Of course I know, honey. But far be it for people to be reasonable. Human beings aren't rational creatures, as much as we would like to think that we are. I think you'll find that as the most frustrating part of love. I know I felt that way.

Chapter 1

November 2065

Kourou, New Guinea

The voice announces one minute before launch. She crushes the butt of the cigarette in an ashtray on the table. It's her third one in half as many hours. Outside the lounge window floodlights shine on a great rocket assembly, four white boosters surround a primary in dark grey. The text Samael heavy-duty orbital hauler, GEHIRN R is written on it in white. The moon, stars and the great arch of the milky way casts a faint and ghostly light down from the clear sky.

"Nervous?"

She looks up. The next chair over sits a man in his late thirties. A stubble and short black hair, and those yellow-tinted glasses he's so fond of. He's glancing over at her, expression impossible to read. A moment's silence passes. "T minus forty-five seconds to launch," the speaker announces.

A sigh escapes through her nose, she runs a hand through her long black hair and isn't sure how to respond.

"It is too late for regrets now, doctor. The die has been cast."

"Oh, I know. I'm just… idly concerning myself for the future of humanity," she says with sarcastic nonchalance. "I wish we'd had more time."

"We're giving humanity an honest-to-god chance of fighting back. If we fail, nothing will be different than if we had never tried."

"Y'know, I can't believe how you of all people can be so relaxed," she says, affixing him with an irritated glance. "Are you not the least bit concerned that your work and what you've gone through will be for nothing?"

The man looks away, saying nothing. But she can tell how his jaw's tensed up.

The announcer begins counting down from fifteen, and both women turn their attention back outside. At the count of six the engines ignite, turning night to day. Scaffolding falls away and the entire assembly is consumed by smoke for a few tense moments, and then the rocket emerges just as the guttural roar of the engines reach the lounge. The rocket quickly accelerates and vanishes into the low cloud layer as the announcer says "Launch is successful!"

"There she goes," she says.

A television screen hanging on the left wall of the lounge shows the face of a journalist with a mic. "It appears the launch has been successful, ladies and gentlemen. Now a tense period of waiting begins as the braking assembly is sent on an interception course with the Lorenz-Ikari asteroid. To recap: the rocket will perform a sling-shot around the Earth to intercept, and land on the asteroid's front. Using a set of powerful rocket engines it will slow down and redirect its descent away from Shanghai and into an empty region of Siberia, where the impact will cause no loss of life. I'm Ryoji Kaji of the Tokyo Shimbun reporting live, and we will now turn the video feed over to mission control who will guide you through the operation."

"What a lovely little cover-up."

– –

– –

Curled up she floats motionlessly in an infinite orange expanse, the only noise is the sound of her heartbeat and the bubbles that escape from her nose whenever she exhales. But when she listens intently, she can hear faint voices. Some of them are high-pitched and speak about death or about birth, while others are low-pitched and speak about the future. Do they come from the outside world, or from inside her own mind? This confusion bothers her, yet one of those voices is calming to hear, and makes her feel at ease. It has been this way for very long, although there is very little she knows that marks the passage of time.

But then there is a change, a sound from above her. She begins moving upward, and as she does the bright orange slowly darkens until she passes through a narrow circle and into an environment that is grey. There are three others inside there, standing on a solid surface. Two have white on them that hang low over their shoulders and down to their knees, and below that things in other colours. The third one is wider and has a dark green thing that covers all of them except the head, and over their eyes is a grey band. They all have different hair colours as well, although none have the same light shade she has.

She has been here two times before. Once, there was the one with the grey band covering their eyes, and the second time, that one and many others were present, most of which are not her now. She remembers voices all those times, but she cannot hear any voices now. They all looked fundamentally the same as her, with arms and legs: some had narrow waists and bulges on their chests, like she has: others did not.

There's a noise, and she is pulled gently downward, but is met by a solid surface below her. She tries to prop herself up on her feet, but having never used them before, she slowly sinks onto her behind. Then suddenly something is pulled over her head, and her hair stops floating. It keeps moving down her body, and with it she feels like something is pushing down on her. And she suddenly feels quite cold. She hears new noises now, they are sharp and unfamiliar to her.

There's another noise, followed by something opening around her, a nearly invisible wall that had previously encased her moving away to either side. Then one of the others comes running to her with a white sheet, and wraps it around her. It is warm and pleasant, and she curls up a little beneath it.

"Rei, do you understand me?"

She looks up. The one kneeling next to her has short but thick dark hair, and a high-pitched voice, and is noticeably shorter than the other two, similar to her own proportions. She doesn't understand how to respond: she understands the individual words, but not the sentence.

They produced the voice by moving their lips. Though she doesn't understand how that works and has never done so before, somehow she simply knows how to produce a voice herself. So she simply says what she thinks, "I don't know."

"Do you understand that your name is Rei? Names are what people call one another."

Now she understands. "Oh. Then yes, I do understand."

"Do you think you can stand up?"

"I don't think so."

The other wraps their arms around Rei and lifts. Rei stretches her legs and finds a shaky footing, managing after a few moments to stand up without support. "What is your name?"

"Maya," they answer.

Then the one with the grey band steps forward, speaking in a much darker pitch. "Rei, welcome to the world. How are you feeling?"

"I… don't know."

"You must be curious as to where you are?"

Rei blinks. "No. Does that matter? What sets this place apart from any other place? "

"Perhaps then, I could instead explain why we created you. Your purpose here."

"I have a purpose?"

"Yes, Rei, a very important one. My name is Lorenz Keel, and I am the chief manager of the Lilith project. You are an artificially grown human, with a special set of genes. My organisation, Gehirn, has possession of a device we call the Core. It is an organometallic construct of indescribable complexity, and we believe that it is alive in a sense. Gehirn is planning on building a machine and for the Core to be its control unit. But we must first learn how to interface with the Core, and that's where you come in, Rei. We believe your genes will give you a unique connection to the Core."

As Lorenz talks, things begin to emerge in her mind. Connection and understandings she never knew, because before now she had never thought of things like machines or what it means to be alive. But somehow, intuitively, she seems to understand them. "I see."

Now the short one next to Rei, who was named Maya, speaks up, "H-hey, maybe we can go and get Rei some clothes now? I'm sure you can explain the rest to her a little later."

Rei furrows her brows. "Do I need that?"

Maya looks at her. Rei feels like she can read a lack of understanding into the expression.

"Usually," Lorenz says, "Us humans value our modesty. To dress in clothes and to keep the naked skin private."

"Private?"

"Yes, Rei. Some things, us humans prefer to keep to ourselves. Those things that relate the closest to our vulnerabilities, our insecurities. The imperfections that all humans have that we nonetheless fear being revealed, either because we fear our own inadequacy or because we fear the prejudice of others."

Now the third other one, one who is tall and thin and has dark hair, makes some sort of sharp exhale and shakes her head. "I prefer to just think of them as something that keeps me warm. Let's go." They turn and touch their hand to the wall behind them, making the wall slide apart to reveal a corridor beyond.

Lorenz gestures that way, and Rei shakily begins to walk, using one hand to keep the soft white cover around herself while holding onto Maya with the other to steady herself.

As they walk down the corridor, Maya turns to Rei, "My sister told me you have been conscious for weeks inside the LCL chamber. Wasn't it boring in there?"

"I… don't understand the question. What is boredom?"

"Y'know, restlessness. Trying to pass the time, waiting around for something exciting or interesting to happen."

"I don't know what excitement is like."

"Oh… W-well, it's something you look forward to."

Lorenz makes a creaky humming sound. "We were wondering how much you would know, Rei: what your level of cognitive development might be as you emerged. Though usually humans acquire emotional and intellectual maturity through experience, you may be different. For you see, it is not just your body that is artificial, but your soul as well."

"My soul?"

"A somewhat metaphysical concept, but very real nonetheless. Technically speaking it is a personality engram, something which the body stores but which can, through technology that manipulates the psychosomatic waveform, be manipulated and moved."

"Psychosomatic waveform?"

"Yes," Lorenz says. "It is an intrinsic quality of the human soul, Rei, but also the human body at the same time. The two are inextricably linked. And because of your special genes, it is our belief and our hope that yours will be the most powerful ever produced by a human."

– –

– –

June 2065

Berlin, Germany

"Alright, that's enough for today! Shut the system down!"

The minimalistic red lights go out for a second and then the regular white ones come on, forcing her to squint. When will they fix it? she thinks to herself. When? Low priority, my ass. What about my right to not have my retinas burned out?

She turns around to the small control room, containing half a dozen men and women in front of large computers and the occasional laptop, divided into two rows of desks. The walls are covered with whiteboards which, themselves, are full of doodles and the occasional sticky note. "Alright, you all know the drill. Back up all the data and then begin copying it over to the Magus for analysis."

While the others get to work, she walks through the room and steps into the elevator at the back, riding it down. It deposits her on the floor of a large hangar, which is very empty except for a large, stationary crane assembly that towers up towards something distinctly reminiscent of a mechanical heart. It stands on four legs, a massive assembly of cables hangs from the ceiling and attaches to the upper half of the four metre wide device, which along with the red hexagonal plates it's covered in gives it its distinct appearance.

The crane is holding up a large cylinder, set at a 45 degree angle against the underside of the device. The cylinder is sunk into a recess and now begins to rotate, emerging like a screw. Then the cylinder is lowered down slowly.

A truck reverses in from a gate to the left and begins unloading people and equipment. I wonder when the new branches in Japan, Russia and France will be complete. I can't wait to go home again, and we seriously need a more appropriate testing environment than this sad excuse for a research lab. A hole in the ground beneath Gehirn HQ is hardly suitable.

As the cylinder reaches floor level, small hatches open on the bottom and a yellow fluid pours out and into drains in the floor, which fills the air with a metallic smell. The colour always reminds her of honey. Around the grates, neon signs on the floor display the warning message "LCL drain in progress, stand back". Then the cylinder is laid down horizontally into a holding arm, and a hatch in its side begins unlocking itself.

The truck reverses up and hides most of the cylinder from view, flanked by armed guards in hazmat suits following the vehicle. I swear, Keel is so paranoid, next he'll suspect me of wanting to kill him. Me. Hah. Perish the thought sir, I just don't like you.

She waves an ID card to one of the guards as she approaches. It has the picture of a woman in her thirties, with a mane of long and thick black hair; on the name line, Doctor Noriko Ibuki is written. She steps around the truck to the back. The hatch in the cylinder to her right is open and a large, ergonomically shaped seat can be seen inside, designed for one to sit in reclined.

To her left inside the truck sit two young women. One is wearing a red protection suit similar to that of the guards, though she is unarmed except for a clipboard. The other is almost anorexically slim, wearing a white one-piece similar to a wetsuit. Small metallic components cover the upper chest and wrists, the suit has black stripes on the thighs and shoulders.

It's hard to distinguish between the suit's primary colour and the girl's skin, as she's paler than what's natural for even the most sun-deprived teenager. She has thick but short hair with a pronounced fringe, a tomboyish haircut that's an odd pale shade of blue.

"H-hold on!" the woman in the hazmat says as Dr. Ibuki approaches, "Sis- ah, doctor, you shouldn't be here without-"

"Rei isn't dangerous, Maya," Dr. Ibuki replies coolly. "I know they make you wear that thing despite my protests, but me they can't force into one when it really is unnecessary."

She turns to Rei, who looks back at her with eyes whose irises are intensely red. There is a conflict behind those eyes, a conflict between curiosity and apathy. "Everything seems to have gone well," Dr. Ibuki says, flatly.

A moment of silence passes, then Rei diverts her eyes and reaches for a towel Maya holds in her hand to dry her soaking wet hair. After another moment she utters in a thin, monotone voice, "I felt a change today. It is becoming more… receptive."

The doctor raises an eyebrow. She directs her gaze towards Maya, who stutters for a moment before asking Rei, "W-what do you mean?"

Rei again remains silent for a few seconds before replying, "I don't know how to describe it. In the beginning, during our earlier experiments, I felt as though the core repulsed me. Now I feel… less like that."

The doctor exhales a barely audible sigh and brushes a strand of hair back over her ear, muttering "How cryptic". I'm growing increasingly convinced Lorenz overestimated her cognitive maturity somewhat. All the formal schooling plans I drew up for her, but nooooo.

After a moment of Rei not responding, Maya diplomatically interjects, "I imagine it can't be easy describing what it's like! Didn't Dr. Ikari once say that it had to be seen to be believed, what interfacing with the core was actually like?"

"I suppose she did, yes." Dr. Ibuki waves her hand dismissively, "Never mind. Maya, with me please."

"Ah- Just let me finish the checkup, it'll only be a moment."

Dr. Ibuki takes a step away from the truck and looks up at the monstrous assembly. She puts a hand on the cylinder, strokes the cold metal almost affectionately with her thumb. You know, I would've been happy to take the plunge as well, my friend. But I can't deny that the scientist part of me is delighted at the work you have given me.

– –

– –

Rei turns on the shower and runs her hands mechanically through her hair, rinsing out the pale yellow liquid. She grimaces, and spits on the shower floor. It turns from yellow to deep dark red when it lands on the wet tiles. All around her feet the water is stained red from the LCL slowly washing off of her. Her mind lingers on the exchange with Ibuki.

"I felt as though the Core repulsed me," she repeats out loud to herself. "Now I feel… less like that. Like the absence of adversity. Like… like a smile."

"How cryptic." The dismissive tone of Ibuki's voice in her mind makes her chest sting. She turns off the water with a sigh and pushes the thought out of her mind.

She leaves the shower and turns to the single fixture in the next room, one large and one small locker as well as a short bench. She reaches for the collar around her neck, opening a clasp which makes the front chestpiece of her suit come loose. Another clasp on her back allows her to pull a zipper down which opens the entire suit, allowing her to pull her hands out of the sleeves, and then peel the rest of it from her body.

She puts the suit into the large locker, which is warm and has air circulating through it. Then she opens the smaller locker and takes out a towel. She dries herself off and gets dressed, a short-sleeved white blouse and a light blue skirt that matches her hair colour, tall black stockings and a pair of office shoes.

An elevator ride and a few minutes of walking empty corridors takes her at last to a door. A simple note has been glued above the door handle, reading "Ayanami, Rei".

A retinal scanner allows her in. The room is large but sparsely decorated: aside from the basics like a bed and drawers there's a large flat TV by the bed's foot end, and a desk with a lamp, two different notebooks and a box full of pens all neatly arranged. No windows, and even with dim lighting the room is very bright thanks to the white colour of the walls.

The bookcase is really the only thing that stands out, full as it is with books in Japanese, German, and English, on every subject from history to natural science to psychology. Were it not for the complex's immaculate housekeeping, the TV remote would have long since caked over with dust from disuse.

Rei goes to the desk and sits down, opening one of the notebooks. She hesitates for a moment, then writes 'Synchronisation test. Today I felt less like the Core is rejecting me. It felt like the absence of adversity. Maybe like a smile.'

She reclines, starting at nothing for a moment. She wonders how such a bubbly person as Maya goes together with a cold woman like the doctor, siblings or not. She reaches for the pen, but is suddenly hesitant. She remembers something that Lorenz told her: "Some things, us humans prefer to keep to ourselves. Those things that relate the closest to our vulnerabilities, our insecurities. We fear our own inadequacy… the prejudice of others."

The original impulse to commit her thoughts on Dr. Ibuki onto paper has been replaced by reluctance. Dr. Ibuki judged me for how I expressed myself. For my… inadequacy. But it was because she didn't understand. Would it have been better if I said nothing? Is this what privacy is? A place to hide so no one judges you?

After a moment she glances back at the notebook, the page mostly empty save the short sentences at the top. She takes a deep breath to organise her thoughts and calm her mind, and then continues to write.

'I have begun to understand what Lorenz Keel said to me about the synchronisation tests. He said to me, the day I was activated, that I would feel familiar there. Comfortable is the word he used. I did not understand what he meant at the time, but now I have begun to. I am noticing swings and changes in my emotional state, and having consulted a dictionary I identified one of these feelings as comfort. I also feel its absence now, although I have trouble telling whether I simply resent the lack of comfort or if what I'm experiencing is something related to pain, that is to say, if this discomfort is the result of some particular thing and not merely the absence of one.'

She puts the pen down and looks at her hand. A part of her hand and fingers ache. She understands that it's because of muscle strains, but for a moment she sits and thinks. Is this pain the same? Does damaging my tissues hurt in the same way as…

She thinks back to the shower, glaring into the water pooling between her toes. The feeling returns for a moment. No, it's not the same. It's something else.

– –

– –

The seat squeaks beneath her as she shifts a little as the synthetic plush-like material rubs against the synthetic plastic-like material of her suit. The metal insides of the cylinder is lit up by a few point lights, but it is fairly dark. The seat is ergonomic and comfortable, she has room to move her limbs a little if she needs to and enough headspace to sit up straight to stretch her back.

The seat's headrest is flanked on each side by small speakers, through which Dr. Ibuki's voice now carries through, "Twenty seconds to valve opening. Dr. Soryu, is the system functional?"

Another woman's voice replies in the affirmative.

A third woman's voice then speaks, "Field strength is up by 0.43 since last experiment."

"Curious," Ibuki says. "Did that happen just now?"

"No."

"It's not a problem, we'll review the logs while the experiment is running. Dr. Akagi, open the entry plug valve."

A buzzing sound above Rei is followed by a sound like running water behind her, and then the cylinder begins filling up from the bottom. It is a yellow-tinted liquid but still translucent, and very slightly thicker than water. It isn't cold as it rises over Rei's legs and up her chest but pleasant and warm. Rei breathes out. As it covers her head and makes her hair dance in the upwards draft, she opens her mouth and breathes in the oxygenated fluid.

"How're you doing, Rei?" asks Dr. Soryu.

Rei clears her throat, "I'm fine."

"LCL filling is complete," says the voice of Dr. Akagi. "All readings are normal."

"Start the synchronisation countdown," Dr. Ibuki says.

Rei reclines and relaxes. After a moment, she begins to feel a stinging in her temples. Dr. Akagi's voice begins counting down from twenty. The noises around Rei start to change: the faint electrical buzzing and general sounds of machinery fades, replaced by the dull rumbling noise of the LCL flowing around her. The voices from the speaker and even her own breaths begin to sound normal again, as if the LCL now conducts sound just like air, or at least she perceives it that way.

Then the insides of the entry plug begin to slowly change. They start to take on a red tint, with shapes like bubbles and waves moving along the walls, becoming more defined over time. Then the wall flashes white, pulsing with black stripes, and then becomes red again. Her temples begin to tingle, then her spine as well. The sensation slowly moves up her back and down her arms to her hands.

"Synchronisation complete," Akagi says.

"Alright, let's review those field strength logs," says Ibuki. "Dr. Soryu, please keep an eye on the gauge for a minute."

Rei reclines, breathes out, and closes her eyes. The sounds of the muffled voices of the scientists from the intercom slowly fades. The weight of the electronics on the chest of her suit becomes less noticeable. She feels less and less like she's sitting in a chair, and more like floating free in the LCL.

She opens her eyes and sees just the LCL around her, tinted red instead of yellow. She is filled with a sense of familiarity, a sense of belonging that always comes to her when she's inside here. It reminds her of her birth, of first waking up. Despite many past experiments giving her the distinct sense of being watched, she still feels safe. Isolated from all the world's worries, like nothing bad can reach her while she's inside. Nothing that can threaten her happiness.

I feel comfortable here, safe. But why? They said I was made for the purpose of this project. My purpose. Is that why I feel no objection to working for them? Was my artificial soul designed that way?

She blinks, and for a moment, she sees not the LCL but a vast bright red emptiness ahead of her. Turning her head either way, she sees the surface of the sea of LCL upon which she's floating. It stretches out forever in all directions. There are no noises at all now except for that of the LCL, which barely moves. As soon as she blinks again, however, she's back underneath the surface.

Despite how comfortable it is to remain, Rei knows she must also be attentive. So she closes her eyes again and thinks of the entry plug. The seat slowly returns beneath her, and when she opens her eyes she's back there. She looks at the clock on her suit wrist. Despite it feeling like mere moments to her, she's been away for almost fifteen minutes.

"Is something the matter, Rei?" asks the voice of Dr. Soryu.

"No, doctor, nothing," she replies automatically.

It is just the same as it has been for months now.

Hours pass, the doctors make occasional small talk among themselves and Rei simply waits for the experiment to be over. Not because she suffers, she simply waits. Eventually the test is over, she's let go to shower and change, and heads off to the weekly health checkup.

A short way outside the locker room she takes an elevator up, and it deposits her into what looks like a hospital room, complete with one of those reclining seats like they have at the dentists. The entire right wall is dominated by tables and drawers, where Dr. Ibuki sits by a computer. Rei can see a crushed cigarette sitting in what looks like a drinking glass the doctor must've brought from the lunch hall. "Let's start," she says without looking up.

Rei dutifully sits down. As she does, the seat whirrs to life and reclines automatically. The door then opens and a flustered Maya comes in, wearing the standard beige Gehirn jacket with red stripes over the shoulders, skirt and white leggings. She begins to utter an apology about being held up, but the doctor dismisses it with an unbothered "It's no problem".

Maya walks up to Rei and takes out a ball-pen from her breast pocket, clicking it open against the clipboard she's got. "Okay, right. Can you describe your physical status?"

"I am well. My fingertips are tingling."

"Can you elaborate on this tingling, please? Is it painful?"

Rei looks down at her hands. "No, I don't think so. I feel it in my palms sometimes when I am with the core, not just my fingers. The sensation is fading slowly. It is… like tiny needles against my skin."

Dr. Ibuki rises and comes over to the chair, hands in her labcoat's pockets, "I'm noticing a pattern. She has experienced this tingling sensation the last two contact experiments as well."

She hums thoughtfully. "Maya, blood kit, please."

Maya puts the clipboard down on a table next to the seat, and goes over to one of the cabinets and retrieves a small box, while Dr. Ibuki dons a pair of gloves. Maya opens the box and takes out first a swab that smells of ethanol which she uses to wipe a spot on Rei's shoulder, then gives the doctor a small syringe.

"She has described it as though the Core no longer rejects her as much," Dr. Ibuki says, like she's thinking out loud while she puts the syringe against Rei's arm, looking for a vein. "I wonder if exposure is finally harmonising her psychosomatic field waves with the Core's, like we hoped."

"I'll… try to make some more concise notes in my diary later," Rei says.

The doctor slowly thrusts the needle in and draws blood, then steps aside to let Maya wipe the spot again and apply an adhesive patch. She takes the needle off the syringe and discards it into a plastic yellow waste bin. "Maya, please continue with the check-up," she says and leaves the room.

Maya spends a few moments writing something on the paper she's got on her board, so Rei reclines and stares up into nothingness.

– –

– –

Rei steps out of the car, a black one with shaded windows and a chauffeur with sunglasses and a loaded gun in a holster. Around them the autumn leaves are falling from tall and majestic birch trees, arranged in lanes along the road. Maya steps out on the other side of the car and beckons Rei to follow. She follows her onto the chalk white gravel path that leads into a park. The path is lined with more birches, painted gold with streaks of green and red as the season turns. The grass all around the gravel path is a vibrant shade of green, made all the more prominent by the intensely white stones.

Far ahead is a statue, a hemisphere with a half-globe on top with the Eurasia and Africa side up. A naked man is kneeling on top of the globe, his head bowed, and the word "Atlas" is inscribed on the pedestal. Below it a poem dedicated to the dead and a band of national flags running all the way around. Rei knows why, Maya told her on the way here. The whole park was built on top of the crater left behind by some sort of weapon she called a thermonuclear bomb.

"Isn't this place beautiful?" Maya asks.

Rei thinks for a moment. It is so much more colourful than the Gehirn complex, and yet everything is arranged with the same clear intention. Not a single blade of grass seems out of place. She had found the structured and rigid homogeneity of Gehirn comforting, but this place is stimulating in a way she hasn't felt before. Everywhere she looks she can see so much detail. The random streaks of colour in the leaves contrasting against the mathematical arrangement of stones along the path, the trees swaying in sequence as a breeze blows through them. "I don't know. But if… If this isn't beautiful, I don't know what else could be."

"I know, right? I went here once and sat for hours on that bench," Maya says and points. "I was trying to draw one of the trees. I'm not a very good artist, but…"

Rei tilts her head to the side. "Draw? As in, commit a mental image to paper?"

Maya nods, "Yeah. Have you ever tried to?"

"No. I've only ever used a pen to write."

"You should try sometime! Drawing is a good way to express things you don't know how to express using words."

"I'm not sure what I would draw, Maya. All Dr. Ibuki ever asks about is feelings and sensations."

"Some people learn to visualise emotion through pictures too. There's a whole genre of art for just that. Maybe you might learn it, one day?"

"Maybe."

They walk around a part of the statue. Around the base of the five metre wide pedestal there's a rim at about knee height, on which Maya and Rei sit down. It's obviously intended for the purpose, as Rei can feel a little bit of heating below the smooth stone.

"Maya…" Rei says after a moment. "I apologise if this is a stupid question, but do you think that there's such a thing as free will?"

Maya blinks. "Oh, uhm… Well…"

Rei looks away, giving Maya a moment to think.

"...I think of free will as something that grows in us as we experience the world. It's obviously hard to deny that people's actions are driven very broadly by behaviours grounded in our genes in one way or another, but…"

"Yes?"

"Well, every time we feel something, we have the opportunity to evaluate that feeling and to learn a lesson. We remember it and incorporate it into our perspectives. It's how we change," Maya says.

"Aren't you describing individuality now, rather than free will?"

"I think the two are linked, actually. To me, free will isn't about whether or not your motivations are your own. I think it's about how your motivations are shaped by your experiences. Once you start to argue about which motivations for each choice at any given moment is or isn't 'freely chosen' at that moment, then things just devolve into hair-splitting and semantics. But as we accumulate experiences, we gain perspective, and that perspective allows us to reflect on the experiences that come next: it's that reflection that I'm talking about."

"So you believe that free will is the ability to change?"

"Yes, exactly. Or rather, you exercise free will primarily through the simple act of introspection and self-reevaluation. I promise you, people are capable of that even if it doesn't always seem like it."

"Maya, how do you… know all this? Where did you learn?"

"Oh I don't know squat, Rei. I have a master's in microbiological neurotechnology, not psychology or sociology. But working with Mr. Keel, I've gotten very used to thinking about this sort of… humanism stuff. He never seems to run out of philosophical observations and quips, y'know?"

End of chapter 1.