Edited, again with MOAR YANG!
-][-
Wing Ye was seventeen years old. Like many of those in the People's Army, he had
dim memories of Impact. Older soldiers and officers could speak of the horrors of
starvation or the savagery of the People's Army. The degenerate, vicious hordes
that preyed upon the people they were supposed to protect, and then cold, almost
inhuman tide that swept all resistance before it. Training was roughly the same, the
equipment identical. There was only one difference between the two pieces of the
fragmented old Army.
Yang Wen-li. The man who dared win land battles as an Admiral by sailing Destroyers
up the flooding Yangtze and tempting enemies into range. Nothing but a tide, a merciless
tsunami, could describe his walk through China. Chairman Mao had the 'Long
March', Yang had his 'Great Wave'. Wing Ye deeply envied those who were old enough
to live through living history.
Wing Ye remembered his father, being brought to the town center on charges of
hoarding. At the time the penalty was public execution. It was the 2006, and Yang's
first year as Chairman, and he was moving through China retracing his steps
backwards to check the switch from imposed military rule to more self-contained
civilian governance. It was just luck that Yang was passing through the village at
the time.
"A man's life is not worth a sack of rice." Yang said. Wing Ye had expected to see a
giant, or someone unmistakably heroic, but Yang reminded most people of a sleepy
Jackie Chan. Completely unimpressive. His voice was soft in intonation, as if he was
chatting with old school friends in a noodle house.
"Every person of age has
consumed many sacks of rice. With just the strength of the arms, one can till the
ground or carry water to let grow many more than that. A man has the power to
give back to the nation far more than the life granted as a gift, and an obligation
to see fulfilled, under Heaven."
There were six accused. Four were to be taken to break new ground at the frontier
instead; not all that bad a fate. It was good government work, while they themselves
would never rise beyond mere farmers, their children would go to free government
schools and have a better chance at life. The two who were executed were the
merchants behind the scheme.
China opened up to capitalism, China industrialized rapidly; at cost of pollution and
worker safety. Chairman Yang stepped down and retreated into obscurity. People
remembered the basic nature of his policies though: no matter what those in power
might think is good for the nation, you DO NOT fuck with the food supply. That was
the shortcut to making Yang angry.
Wing Ye was a sergeant in the 316th Mobile Artillery. He was raised in a government
house, ate government food, studied under a state-sponsored school. As the tanks
rolled down the Korean highway, he supposed his life wasn't too bad. He could have
turned out just another wife-beating drunkard. Maybe. Maybe not. A soldier had to
use his strength to serve the people, for among the professions under Heaven it was
war that kept on consuming, rather than producing.
In the dim orange interior lights he saw that the other young soldiers were likewise
too keyed-up to try and sleep, the uncomfortable seats and bumpy suspension of
their ride aside. Yang hated -waste-. He had done good for China. Almost everyone
from peasant to corporate patriarch remembered Yang's reign with fondness. It was
a simpler time, back then.
The young soldier did not know enough English to read western publications, though
under Yang's China they were more openly available. Had he read TIME Magazine's
Person of the Year edition though, he would have agreed whole-heartedly with the
commentary. Yang's China was more -efficient- than before. It was nowhere even
near a democracy. Yang was good -for- China, but his lack of the obvious vices
aside, even he did not consider himself a good person. Or even -nice- most of the
time. Only as a teacher, freed from responsibility, could he have turned into the
ludicrously tolerant and lazy figure that lounged around Tokyo-3.
Yang had called. Young Wing Ye's excitement was echoed by the upper echelons of
the People's Armed Forces. Was it true? Had he decided to return to his true self?
Even the crustiest old general felt near giggling like a schooboy. Undefeated of the
East, Master of Asia. Officially it was independent action of the People's Council, but
if Yang suggested nothing less than overwhelming power, then there had to be good
reason for it.
-][-
That was the thing that struck people about Tokyo-3. It was too quiet. The noise
of industrial and military vehicles, repairs and new infrastructure, these filled the
air, and yet - the air was still, and people even in the safety of their homes clad
themselves in tangible silence.
It was not defeat. There was no need for propaganda to sugar-coat the situation,
since every breath they made was proof enough. Survival was the only measure.
They thought they'd grown used to it, laughing at how others from out-of-town saw
their willingness to stay as sheer suicidal madness.
It was close. It was damn close. The people kept paying for it, the costs of battle.
No one raised any protest, but from the shopkeeper to the soldier, the same look
tended to flash across their faces.
'What can we do? What's going to happen to us now?'
Gendo Ikari had skedaddled off to join the Cradle. The Evangelion pilots were still
unconscious. Most of the hard anti-Angel defenses were slagged. NERV was gutted
thoroughly, and the worldwide political situation...
Just thinking about it could make Yang wince. Tokyo-2 and the Diet tried to bluster
their way through the media, but it was quite clear they had no idea what to do
either. No one did.
He laughed. "The JSSDF has a snowball's chance in hell of trying to take over NERV's
mandate. Nor, Colonel, I must say" he turned towards Cerberus Base's commander.
"Do they have any right to order us to do -
anything-? UNIG is here for oversight and
support, we can't replace NERV in terms of fighting against Angels and existential
threats."
Colonel Nasuno still looked grim. Yang turned away from the sight of NNHIS under
sunset. Floodlights were switching on with hard snaps, ready to turn the night into
day, for NNHIS service crews worked 24/7. The conventional military served little
more than a speedbump against alien intrusion, but engineers were literally the
very lifeblood of the Fortress City.
"That's not what you wanted to ask though, is it?" the former admiral asked.
The two were walking towards the main gate, obligated to attend a political
dinner at a sumptous Kyoto-2 hotel. "The Japanese government can't order us to
in... but this is the best time to take control of NERV, isn't it? Ikari proves just how
risky it is to trust blindly without full knowledge."
As before, it mattered little which one. "Not UNIG, no, but then we're only one
regiment." Yang smiled thinly. "A three-headed beast- Japanese infantry, Russian
and Chinese armor, and American naval and air support." He searched for the
Big Dipper in the sky. "Let me ask you the question instead: do you feel that it's
treason to stand against the military of your own country?"
The soldier grimaced. "Dammit, Yang. Look at it from my point of view. I didn't
ask for this! What would you do?"
"It's a question of loyalty, isn't it? Only you can answer that."
"My men... even if we fight, the rest of the JSSDF can just bury us under the
weight of numbers. But Yang, it's no secret that your Army is massing hundreds
of thousands of troops at the coastal ports. What are you planning?"
Yang grimaced. The price of his intervention in the Korean debacle was the use of
several North Korean ports. Starving refugees had flooded into Manchuria, but that
was more or less all right, since they needed the manpower anyway. Then, in 2004,
taking advantage of the international funding for Project E and the need to shift
the massive amounts of metal and equipment necessary for Evangelion construction,
Yang ordered the creation of a new type of fleet-handling facilities facing the
East Sea. This allowed for easier access to the rare earths needed for the layering
of Evangelion plate, and to protect the balance of power among those sharing the
Northern Resource Area. Such action could possible been treated as belligerent, but
Yang had made clear that China respected the thousands of nukes that the Russia
still had, and it was a more refined reflection of Vladivostok anyway.
Yang considered the end of mass starvations as his crowning glory during his period
of martial law. Before he stepped down from power and back into obscurity, his was
a well-motivated army backed by well-fed industrial base. Now two million men were
gathered around Manchuria and Korea. Five more were waiting near the Yellow Sea.
More were moving. They were being drawn from as far as the Indian border.
And now, of course, the UN NAVY deployed to cover various 'possibilities'. Submarines
were thick around the Sea of Japan. Boomers, nuclear ICBM-carrying submarines,
barely even tried to hide themselves. Everything was pointed at Tokyo-3. Now
though, assets had to redeploy to consider if they should halt the painfully obvious
preparations for sea invasion.
Colonel Nasuno wondered when he'd grown comfortable enough to just call Yang
Wen-li without any honorifics, as if he was just any old comrade. He felt vaguely
protective, even. Yang, even at thirty-eight, looked like a magnet for bullies. It was
no secret he was being pushed around by teenage girls.
This shoddy-looking man turned the Chinese Navy from second-rate joke for a
supposed nascent superpower pre-Impact, into one capable of inspiring dread even
without expensive Carriers. Yang was a devotee of missile saturation to overcome air
patrol screens and antimissile defenses. So many foreign ships around and within
range of the shore batteries - did he intend for this to happen? In one stroke, Admiral
Yang could -end- any other claim for the oceans of the world for the forseeable
future.
Only nuclear deterrence was standing in the way of that, maybe, but then every
nuke not aimed at Tokyo-3 might be that last bit needed to break through a
monster's AT-field. No one really knew just how strong AT-fields could get.
Yang in his mind saw the Pacific and little tiles representing fleets and submarines.
The nations of the world were emptying their stocks, all heading to the Pacific, as if
it was time for the final battle between good and evil.
He huffed. Now what the hell makes them think that? They're leaving themselves all
defenseless, as if Tokyo-3 was some sort of hellmouth from which the dread host will
spring. Nagisa already spanked them all for that imprudence.
"Don't rush me. You'd get shoddy miracles..."
"But this is messed up, Yang. We can't do it. We're not strong enough on our own.
But if you fucking send your people over the gulf, it's war. You'll see there where my
loyalty stands. No Chinese Army will ever set foot on the Home Islands."
"Hmm. If the writing on the wall is THAT obvious, doesn't this paint your own
government in an unflattering light? So what do you want to do? Just stand here
and die?"
"I don't know. I just..." He exhaled heavily. "This is really messed up. I shouldn't
be waiting for a boy to make up my mind for me."
Yang nodded. It was actually fairly disturbing. He looked up again at the sky
and pulled on his coat. The lights, no matter how bright, seemed bleaker
somehow. The city was colder. Dull and lifeless. Even he felt sluggish and blandly
disinterested in his own fate.
-][-
-][-
Misato Katsuragi had problems, but unfortunately Ritsuko Akagi, her primary problem-
solver, was one of them. Privately she pulled aside Doctor Hiroshi Sakamoto, most
prestigious brain surgeon from Kyoto-2.
"So? How's Ritsuko?"
The doctor winced. "This is totally unprecedented. There are superconductor
bundles laced all the way into her prefrontal lobes. By all rights, she should be in
a coma, if not crippled for life. In many ways, she still is... but the nerve signals
that should go to her spine are instead transmitted to the exoframe she's wearing."
Misato nodded. Some idiots tried to get her to take it off. Maya Ibuki kneed them
in the groin, one after the other. Only Misato, as NERV's de facto commander, had
the authority to decide if Ritsuko Akagi was really fit enough to for duty. As NERV's
own primary scientific director and the planet's only expert on xenogenetics, Ritsuko
had gone ahead and declared herself still at her full capacities.
"The human brain is a delicate instrument!" Dr. Sakamoto insisted, laying his palms
down on Misato's desk. "It's not meant to be messed with like that. At any moment,
Akagi's lobes could fry itself. For god's sake, she's running DC straight into her own
brain just to stimulate feedback! There are connections there that nature never
intended or the product any research or testing! With all due respect, how could
you trust the judgement of someone like that? Her condition... she should be resting
and her brain structure studied, instead of being pushed into responsibility."
"If she says she can handle it, then I trust her."
The specialist looked in pain trying to keep himself from shouting out
'Are you an
idiot? Didn't you just hear what I said?!' He took a deep breath an adjusted his collar.
'Don't you understand? Her so-called 'cure' was an apotoxin designed to burn out
cells faster than a mindworm could assimilate them! She suffered the predictable
result: the scarring of her own nervous system! And then somehow she sidesteps
decades of research and cobbles together a neural interface out of nothing!'
What irked him most was not that how so close it seemed to sheer luck or magic,
since he'd come to accept that scientific progress rested upon the examination and
understanding of strange data, not the rejection of results to favor the hypothesis;
but if it had been -planned- somehow.
It was taken for granted the NERV was hoarding technology they think the world may
not be ready to accept or handle, however foolish and futile such an effort may be. It
was only the demands of war that kept people from inquiring too much. It was far too
convenient.
Where DID Nagisa get the idea for that? All the flailing about looking for a cure or to
prevent puppetry, it could all have been just a ruse. It was occuring to people that
Nagisa started off with the EXACT SAME means and resources, the precisely similar
knowledge base, as did NERV.
"It is my professional opinion that Akagi is NOT fit to return to duty. As a duly
authorized inspector by the Japanese government-"
"... which means nothing to me, since this is a UN operation."
"This is a medical situation! The risks... this is just simple prudence. I can go over
your head for this, Katsuragi! Even I know Akagi is too valuable to lose."
"We need Ritsuko, we need her to get the pilots out of their own comas. If you think
you can get the kids out of it...?"
The brain specialist shook his head.
"Then thanks, but get out. We've got work to do." Misato smirked slightly, hunching
over behind her desk and looping her fingers together. She dared himto threaten her
again with political repercussions.
Dr. Sakamoto grit his teeth. "Then why am I even here? I shouldn't even have
bothered. You... people... just keep on doing what you want no matter what." He
spat out the word
'people', as if meaning something completely opposite.
"You are -excused-, Doctor." Misato replied tonelessly. "Thank you for your time."
All this bleating about Third Impact; he closed his eyes and sucked in his breath. The
prospect their 'victory', that risk forever closed to humanity, the world raised a
monster to beata monster. Would it really, that easily, go back into the cage?
As the man from Kyoto walked off muttering, Misato let out a heavy sigh and leaned
against the wall. This resentment between NERV Tokyo-3 and the rest of the
country's been bubbling for a while. For all that those coming to work in the Fortress
City seemed to be baptized by battle into fervent industry, it seemed like it was
sucking in goodwill from around the Kanto region. Probably because Tokyo-3 was
sucking up its economy and working population.
Without the boy to speak and kind of deflect the attention, people were starting to
look at the numbers. The opinion of one more influential voice in the scientific
community might burst the balance. What was making this rise to the surface now?
Oh, right. Misato pushed off the wall and began to walk towards the medical level.
Mousy little Maya Ibuki picked a fine time to unveil her psychotic-protective side.
She was a soldier, dammit, not a diplomat, not a conciliator. The old man was better
at it, but he was guilty, guilty, guilty - no way in hell could he have held on for so
long if ignorant of Gendo Ikari's plans. Misato knew she was safe from being replaced
- the pilots trusted her, and their voices mattered more than any penny-pinching
bureaucrat. But the pilots... were silent now. Ikari and Ayanami were still under, and
Sohryu was too far away.
Only Akagi could speak now for strategic and logistical concerns; all Katsuragi
needed to worry about was to use the tools provided to their most effective extent.
But she first needed to have those tools.
She'd been avoiding Ritsuko. True, the scientist had willingly allowed herself to be
kept in medical confinement and Misato had to deal with the political fallout- but
surely she could have blown off some meetings just to see if enough of her friend
remained in there.
That brief glimpse after the battle- Ritsuko scared her. A pillar of strength and a
mind beyond peer; that was Akagi's role in NERV. Unplugged from the MAGI, the
blonde looked so lost, so frail. Her brown eyes stared out at the world in hate.
Misato cursed her own cowardice. It was something in the mind, something beyond
her own depths... Misato had never considered herself a smart person. It was Maya
who stood nearby, she could deal with it better.
Ibuki had changed too. She looked cold, ferocious, and pitiless. Maybe... what
Ritsuko needed was to be reminded of happier times, to be reconnected to her own
humanity. Misato felt like she was standing on the side of a river, watching everyone
else float by.
She still felt the same way, wanting to protect them all, but without the power or the
smarts to do it. What was she doing wrong?
Ritsuko Solved Problems. Misato was starting to find herself as one of those
problems. People were changing around her, but she remained the same. Maybe
there were those who liked having her as the bedrock of familiarity, but she was sick
of running along the banks. Eventually they would go around a bend she might not
be able to follow.
If only they would give her a problem that could be solved by punching or shooting
something or someone! Or, and here she snicked slightly and in irony, maybe a
drinking contest.
-][-
-][-
Was it just her, or were the lights really getting weaker the closer she got to
Ritsuko's room? She got an entire wing of the hospital to herself, and Misato
shivered under the eerie silence. She didn't believe in ghosts and grudges, but
Tokyo-3 had seen enough horrors and deaths to support making a horror movie
script someday.
But, in contrast with the gloom outside, Ritsuko's room was well-lit. The blonde was
sitting up on her bed and working with a laptop. "Hey! Aren't you supposed to be
resting?" Misato asked in what she hoped was a friendly enough tone.
Ritsuko took off her glasses and sighed. "Oh. It's you." There was whirring noise with
her every move. "And I -am- resting. That's why I'm lying down here rather than moving the lab. Hmf. I suppose I should thank you for having some of my equipment moved
down here."
Misato waved and smiled. "Um... yeah. So. How are you doing?"
Ritsuko gestured around. "More bored than anything, really. I just never noticed until
just how... slow... we live." She turned her attention back to her computer. "I
suppose it's a matter of perspective. Ennui is the greatest enemy of immortals."
"That's a plugsuit, isn't it?" The hospital gown could not fully cover the shiny black
suit, and there was something about the slick form-fitting lines, when combined with
the soft green cloth, that seemed positively indecent. Misato quirked her lips in
an odd smile. "Did you just happen to have an adult-sized plugsuit lying around, or...?"
A plugsuit, with its environment controls, was like bondage leather that breathes.
One could wear one semi-comfortably for days; that was how they were designed.
There were also the uncomfortable insertion points for the plumbing. Ritsuko's bland
look was overflowing with unspoken sarcasm.
Misato laughed weakly, the one to be embarrassed instead. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm sure you've already gotten a report from Sakamoto and his ilk."
"They're not exactly helpful. You're not being helpful. Come on, Rits-chan. We're
friends, aren't we? I just want to know if you're okay." Misato rubbed the nape of her
neck. "Um. Doesn't that... hurt?"
Ritsuko turned around slightly to show the cabling attached firmly to the back of her
skull. "No, it doesn't. The brain itself doesn't really feel, but if you must know, there
is this sensation, it's heavy. That's why this..." she touched the overlapping plates
running down the back of her suit. "is fixed into my spinal column. An armature and
exoframe reinforces my spine and bypasses muscle control. In some ways, this is
more efficient than trying to repair my nerves bundles. I don't have to do open
surgery into my arms, if I can just manipulate them from the outside. It's based on
the technology we used in rebuilding Kirishima's arm, so I still get some feeling even
through the suit."
Misato looked pained. "Ritsuko... I'm sorry..."
"Why? You had nothing to do with this."
"You're controlling your own body like it's a puppet. That's... not right. Who did this to you? It was Gendo wasn't it?! He betrayed us to join the Cradle!"
Cold amusement graced Ritsuko's face. "Hah. That presupposes he had any loyalty to
us in the first place. NERV was that man's tool, not vice versa. I pity instead that
band of pompous little misfits." She shook her head. "No- I did this to myself. It's
better than dying, in any case."
"Ritsuko, is this really it? You're going to wear that for the rest of your life? I can't
forgive him." Fighting for humanity's sake was one thing, but this was personal now.
She wanted to protect her Children, but as young gods striding the battlefield in their
engines of destruction, there was only so much she could do without tainting their
ability to fight.
This time, she wanted to put her arms around Gendo's twiggly little neck and pop his
head right off. It's all become so much so suddenly.
'Revenge, is it?' she heard a distant oily whisper. 'Power. You want power. To protect
the weak and the helpless, hold on to your hate.'
Misato blinked and looked around. What was that just now?
Ritsuko still looked unconcerned. While it was indeed based on the technology used
in Kirishima's artificial arm, it was also true that so were the myomer control systems
in Powered Armor. She actually pitied Misato.
"There's no need to worry about me." she said as she put her laptop away, while
stretching out to yawn. "It's fine. I can work with this."
"Ritsuko..."
"What?"
"I'm noticing that you have... something... poking out from between your legs."
Ritsuko looked down to the metal tentacle she used to keep the laptop from sliding
down her lap. She pulled the small computer free, exposing the manipulator tip. At
its center was an AC plug. "Oh, this? It's just a... mechadendrite, is what we're
calling it. We've had the technology to make segmented limbs for years, it's just that
simple joints are easier to make."
The mechadendrite slid back, drawing Misato's attention as it drew down Ritsuko's
thighs and hiding behind the scientist's crotch. It reappeared again out from flaps
in the back of her lab coat. "Surprisingly, it doesn't take much more concentration
to control six limbs, if only that I can only really have four active at a time. We've
been underestimating the adaptability of the human brain."
Ritsuko arched her back, showing off where the mechadendrites emerged from the
plates over her spine. Misato bit her lip to keep the comments in. She knew the
reason why plugsuits needed to be skintight: they functioned very similar to diving
suits, it was just that the pilots could breathe LCL. With teenagers, it was possible
to ignore it, but for an adult like Ritsuko... the lines and wiring seemed designed to
show off that ass.
"Take this is a complement, Rits-chan, but are you sure it's not just you... being,
uh... you?" Misato winced. "I mean, it's kind of weird, isn't it?" In her memory
again blossomed the bright wings of Evangelion Unit 01, that formed into four
more arms.
Seeing the change in her expression, Ritsuko crossed her arms together and
began to coil the pair of mechadendrites like cobras around her neck. The tip
flicked up, seeming to hiss, opening and closing their tiny manipulators. "It's been
done before."
Misato chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, I can tell why your doctors are too
scared to contradict your own diagnosis. Okay. I trust you... if you say you're
okay, then... you're okay."
"Maybe you shouldn't trust so blindly." Ritsuko replied firmly. "Not even me. What's
happened to me is too close to what the Unity boasts for his followers. I almost
didn't want to go back to this..." here she clutched at her chest as if to claw out
her heart.
'... this stupid, emotional, betraying shell.' She smirked. "I suppose I
should get used to being bored."
"Ritsuko..."
"Never mind. Leave that for when the fighting's done. Spilling my secrets won't
make me feel any better, and it would just ruin your day."
"Maybe not. As de facto Commander of NERV, you should keep me in the loop."
"Ah, but the loop's broken. Severed, like Gordian's Knot. I don't know if you've
noticed, Katsuragi, but the world ends with you." She pointed accusingly with
one of her metal-ring tentacles.
Misato scowled. "Everybody's already working double shifts on reconstruction.
What do you expect me to do?" She pushed away the mechadendrite with a
finger, and just that felt dirty somehow.
"Ah, you're focusing on aboveground repair?"
Dropping armament buildings meant left open shafts, not to mention the gaping
hole left by the Ashino Lance Cannon. Obvious points of vulnerability were
obvious. "I'll get to the paperwork later. The city needs to be secured first." Misato
rubbed her forehead. "But... it feels like make-work. We're still helpless against
any form of attack."
I know why you're here. There isn't much we can do but wait. Your little boy will
come out of that sleep as soon as it pleases him." Ritsuko snorted and muttered
something unpleasant. "And don't worry about Ayanami. Her body is more resilient
than that, and her mind won't snap from mere trauma. Worst comes to worst,
she can always be replaced."
Misato winced. "Oh, god. Why did it have to be clones? I won't allow it, Ritsuko."
"I -have- pondered destroying all of Ayanami's... backups... to give her the gift of
uniqueness. If you people want to keep treating her as any other human being,
rather than the half-human weapon that she is, then so be it. I don't really care
anymore."
"That's murder. It's bad enough that we torture our Children, that NERV's responsible
for putting that girl through hell, I won't condone trying to fix our sins by making
even more evil." She shivered, remembering those empty smiles, and Maya Ibuki's
gleeful face.
"Nagisa is nothing." the young woman had said at the time.
"There is no
power that he has, that we can't have for ourselves. We won't have to give up our
own humanity. Ayanami is an army unto herself. We won't lose... we CAN'T lose,
Katsuragi-sempai.
After all..." here she tilted her head to the side, grinning.
"As long as we're alive
we can try again. If we're dead, it doesn't count."
"Dammit, Ritsuko. How long has this been going on? You... Gendo... even Shinji,
how long have you been playing with human lives as if it's some sort of game?"
"What a silly question, Misato. Always." Ritsuko smiled beatifically. "Always."
Misato groaned and collapsed onto the bed. She rolled over to stare up at
Ritsuko's puzzled expression. "About that... did you hear that the old man's been
arrested? It's all over the news- Ayanami's a clone. They think we're growing
Evangelion pilots."
"Logical. Why rely on random chance, pulling out normal children from their homes,
when a genetically-engineered being can fight and suffer for us?"
"That's monstrous, Ritsuko."
"They think we're monsters, and yet they can appreciate just how much easier it
would be, letting go of morality for the sake of getting things done. If Ayanami can
use an AT-field, then the Evangelions themselves... would be obsolete."
"Can she?"
"Of course."
"Shit."
It was bad enough trying to keep Evangelion technology from proliferating, but just
Ayanami's mere existence was a threat to world peace. It would literally be
impossible to HAVE world peace, unless it was somehow enforced by a legion of
blue-haired girls.
"They want to have inspectors poking around, and you to make a statement. If
you're fit enough to return to duty, you're fit enough to talk to the press. Ritsuko..."
and here she sighed heavily. "Is there anything you can say that isn't heavily
incriminating?"
"Has Ibuki shown you Terminal Dogma yet?"
"Um, no, but I kinda get what it is. What I don't get is why we had to hide it in the
first place. It's what the Angels want, isn't it? It's not like anyone else can try to
steal it, it's too big."
"Mmm. It is referenced as the Second Angel. You're not the first person to think it's
strange. Just another weird and seemingly pointless policy decision- but it's not its
location we wanted to hide."
"Ritsuko. We're friends, aren't we? Depending on what you know, once this thing is
over... they're talking crimes against humanity for what you've been doing to the
clones."
"Hmm? And what HAVE I been doing?"
"Dummy Plug System." Misato said flatly.
The scientist laughed coarsely and leaned over Misato. "So the old man's singing
that sweetly? He's trying to get back into the good graces of the government, so
there would be someone to pick up the pieces once they're finished tearing us
down."
"We can't let this happen." Misato moaned. "We won! Why are we being punished?"
Ritsuko sighed and lay back on her bed. "Because what we've done is just the latest
in a history of poor decisions. We're not wise..." she said numbly while starting at the
ceiling. "We had so many chances, we know what we should be doing, but we keep
on doing the wrong things." Ritsuko put her right hand over her eyes. "That bastard.
He left me behind... dammit. Dammit! He couldn't even be decent enough just to kill
me if I'm useless now."
"Ritsuko?"
"I envy you, you know that? You can hate Ikari ... Gendo... all you want. I just...
at least you KNOW what to feel. I don't know anything! I'm just... here."
"Wait... are you saying... ugh!"
"Hah. Ironic isn't it?" Ritsuko removed her hand, but kept her eyes closed behind her
glasses. "For all that some whisper you slept your way into your post as NERV's
tactical commander, I'm the one that's really assuming the position." She grimaced.
"Not unless you go pull down under your bedsheets the other Ikari, you raging shotacon."
Misato smiled wryly. Ritsuko being so passive-agressive, just like old times. She
always seemed so aloof, and combative when trying to express herself emotionally.
"It's okay, Rits-chan. This doesn't really change anything. We're still here. I'm here
for you, you know... however much that means."
"Are we friends, Misato?"
"What? Of course we are! Aren't we?"
Ritsuko opened and closed her palms. "That Ritsuko Akagi you know from college,
she seems so far away now. The Ritsuko Akagi that Maya Ibuki thinks she knows...
who is she? The Ritsuko that's your friend, the one you could trust... when did she
die? There was a time when I was really sure." Ritsuko turned her head to "We could
have been..." She sighed and shook her head.
"Yeeah... this philosophy talk? It's bullshit." She rapped Ritsuko on the forehead with
her knuckles.
"Ow. Misato, what the hell."
"You've been moping around here alone too long, I think. Hey, let's go do
something. No, wait, shit. If you show up out there, then the commitee starts the
media circus. We gotta sneak by the papparazi."
Ritsuko laughed weakly. Someone hadn't changed. "I can't nag you to study for the
midterm exams anymore, Katsuragi, but the inquest sounds close enough."
"Oh, Right." She groaned and tugged at her long hair. "What did we do wrong this
time? Sheesh. They could give us some time to breathe. We're fighting for our lives
here!"
"That's a lie."
Misato blinked. "What?"
"The one who could come closest to defeating us, the Unity using the Earth's Cradle,
they never had any intention of starting Impact. If they could beat us, then they
could handle any Angels that may appear. They're monsters, but then we're not that
much different." Ritsuko paused. "At best, we're fighting for a world where monsters
should no longer exist."
Misato nodded. Man with the power of the star gods. Either they need to wise up
quickly or remove themselves from temptation. "If I'm in charge, then I'm not going
to start Third Impact! I'll do anything to stop it."
"If you let Evangelion technology proliferate, then it's inevitable." Ritsuko replied
softly. "Misato. Killing me and destroying the MAGI's database will, at best, delay
Eva tech recovery by five to ten years. Hybrid technology will disappear; there's a
reason why Nagisa doesn't just clone himself en masse and win the world with his
own bare hands. I just want you to remember that."
Misato sucked in her breath. "What are you saying? No way I'm going to let that
happen too. Is it... oh yeah, Gendo's still alive, isn't he? Shit." She began to gnaw on
her fingernails again. "Kaji's trying to stall for time, but I still don't know what this is
about. Rits-chan... I don't know what to do."
"That's a lie too."
"But..." Misato winced, but a flicker of guilty knowledge passed across her
expression. She moaned. "I don't want to..."
"I'm just a -resource-." Ritsuko added. "A civilian. You're a soldier."
'It's your job to
protect me.' Ritsuko took off her glasses and looked faintly hopeful. "Remember this,
too. I don't deserve your trust, but you have mine. You've always had it."
Misato jerked back in surprise, even blushing for no reason she could readily identify,
then grinned. "But if I move things around... it's exactly what they hope I'd do. It's
the excuse they're looking for to kick me out of command."
And by extension, to put someone who might be less open to indulging the pilots'
childish whims. Ritsuko Akagi had her knowledge as leverage, but she had only the
choice of destroying her precious data or working with the new management.
"Gendo's not the type for pillow talk, you know?" Ritsuko said offhand. "His plans, he
just keeps on using us as pawns, no one ever gets wind of his his full intent." She
smirked. "But you know about Plans One to Nine, right? Those little brain puzzles
about what we could do with an Evangelion in open warfare? Gendo, of course, knew
them, even if he didn't really care. I don't think things were ever supposed to get
that far... with him around we were never really meant to 'win'. But I just so happen
to know from someone else that they now go up to thirteen."
"Pillow talk?!" Misato echoed shrilly. "Too much informatio-... wait, thirteen? Nine
was to somehow get an Evangelion launched. Eight is to get the global unity just to
-allow- the possibility of Plan Nine. Getting to outer space is going to be stupidly
expensive."
"For us at the bottom of a gravity well, certainly. Nagisa and his ilk, and Gendo,
are already in space." Ritsuko sighed. "The thirteenth is named the Death Star scenario for reasons I'd rather not specify."
-][-
-][-
Yang was not unused to the sumptous luxury a first-class hotel offered, though
mostly from his upbringing hepaid more attention to the flow of staff and
entertainers. He'd chatted briefly with one of the waiters and requested for the young
man to keep him supplied with red wine and some little snacks every time the waiter
made a full circuit through the hall. One wasn't supposed to give tips to waiters in a
formal function, Yang knew, after all he'd been in the same job when he was that
age. So he gave the young man a note to his supervisor mentioning that he
approved of the prompt and attentive service. Just his signature alone made it worth
something as an authograph.
Hong Kong, pre-Impact, just a few years after being given back to China. The former
British colony fared quite well from the regime change, despite having to rein in a bit
how much fun they could make of the mainland. If given a few more years, specially
with the dot-com bubble burst, they could have served to spearhead deep into the
global market with cheap electronics, taking the edge off Japan's dominance in that
market segment.
Yang stood by a large picture window, facing the east. Old and new Kyoto glittered
before him, and the seas beyond broke up the moon into shards. The waters were
past the horizon were known as the Sea of Japan, or the Korean Sea, or even by
some as the Northeast China Sea, but one he just referred to as the East Sea. In
his mind he saw the contiginous arc that were his Navy's operations area, hugging
the coast of mainland Asia.
One last taste of the salty ocean air, ah, if only he wasn't trapped by this facile
little party. Tokyo 3's coast was nice and all, but it faced east, not the waters
where he began his journey into command. Ironically, it was only in the last stages
of the Reunification that he was actually an admiral.
His moment of contemplation was quickly broken. "Yang-hakase!" he heard someone
exclaim joyfully. He turned to see Hideo Kurata, the current Minister of Culture along
with several other socialites. Yang pasted a smile on his face.
"Ahh, Yang-sensei, have you been introduced to Miharu-hakase, the Dean of Neo-
Kyoto University's Department of History?
"No. A pleasure, Doctor Miharu."
"Likewise, Yang-sensei. I understand you're something of a historian yourself? That's
fascinating."
Yang chose not to mention that he had a similar Ph.D., it was just that people kept
forgetting it in their effort not to add 'Admiral' or 'Councilor' in front of his name. He
kept smiling. Yang the Teacher was a title he much preferred.
"And this is Miss Miranda Coffrey, publisher of African Free Press and chairperson of
the Golden Apple Foundation."
"Delighted to meet you at last." The tall woman affected a confused look a moment.
"Professor Yang."
"Thank you, Miss Coffrey. I'm an admirer of your work."
"Not as much as I admire yours, I'm sure. We still remember fondly your time spent
in Africa."
I never went there; Yang wanted to say. I just offered the UN the use of the
Chinese Army for peacekeeping, since we were the ones with the surplus in
manpower. If the United States Navy formed the bowstring of the UN NAVY, then the
People's Army was the unsubtle sledgehammer of the UN ARMY.
It was India and Pakistan that kicked off the nuclear exchange, it was just convenient China was close by to pick up the pieces. Yang was adamant, it would be
the height of stupidity to try to expand influence and take new territory. They barely
had enough food to feed themselves, nowhere even near what's needed for
adventurism.
There were actually very few 'threats' to China's existence. Everybody was busy Post-Impact just trying to survive. Land grabs and 'living space' was so last century.
With the reduction of world population from over four billion to just one and a half,
there was plenty of slack. With the UN taking care of supplies for peacekeeping and
humanitarian purposes, Yang bargained his military away from having to use up the
stores needed to reboot Chinese agriculture and economy.
The Suez Canal was less than half a world away, after all. Unless your name was
Harlock, and your ship bearing Arcadia on its side, pirates were not allowed to exist
in Yang's oceans.
Coffrey was keeping her face in profile, showing off the sharp features so different
from the typically rounded, and one might say childish, Asian face. She was
disappointed slightly at just how -short- Yang was in person, but still intrigued. In the
Great Game, Yang preferred to act as if he always held a low hand, tempting others
to keep raising the stakes until they had far more to lose than he would, no matter
what it that he'd choose to do.
And in the end even she had tosay; My god, he really does look a lot like Jackie Chan.
"This is Satoshi Huoko, of Houko Construction." There was less cheer in the Minister's
face as he made the introduction. "I trust you already know each other?"
"No, but..." Yang chose to adress the tall, round-faced man first. "I've definitely
heard of you, mister Houko." Yang bowed slightly. "How difficult not to notice the
little treasure box symbol all over our sites."
Houko smiled widely. Though quite wealthy, only recently had the land developer
gained enough clout to be invited into high-power gatherings. The only reason he
was there was because Coffrey had been pumping him for information about Tokyo-3
when Cultural Minister Kurata came along to gather foils for drawing out Yang's
intentions. "I'm honored to be of help, Yang-sensei."
"Of course you are." Yang replied with unfeigned good humor. "You're building a
monument that equals the Pyramids of Egypt, the Great Wall of Q'in, and the Great
Dams of the twentienth century."
The man's wealth was linked to Tokyo-3, and he lived in the same hometown as
the younger Ikari. His loyalty was only far too blatant, which meant he must not be
ignored while at the same time limiting just how useful he'd be. A mere businessman
like him should not be of any interest to a personage such as Yang.
'What are you trying to say, Yang?' the others wanted to ask.
'Ignoring me/us in
favor of someone who supports Tokyo-3 so completely... is this a hint or a threat?'
"We're all expecting great things from the Treasure Box." Yang added, in a tone
almost child-like in its eagerness. "Although I suppose it will have to wait until this
war on Earth is done."
Houko bowed again. "We'll try our best not to disappoint, Yang-sensei."
'Wait, what?'
The two shared a knowing look, amused at the blank stares from the three power
elite. Plan Eleven. They nodded to each other. Plan Nine was the invasion of the
moon, the prosecution of war into and around the Moon's orbit. Plan Eleven was war
within and around Mars. Twelve was the utilization of the entirety of Sol for conflict.
Thirteen was the pursuit of war into another star system.
"Your pardon, Yang-sensei..." Dr. Miharu coughed into his fist. The old man stared at
Yang. "This war. Do you think it's nearing it's conclusion?"
Yang blinked. "Now, pardon me, what? What makes you think that?" He reached over
and took a cocktail glass from a passing waiter. "This is a war where we are utterly
opaque to the enemies numbers, disposition, or even if they have ANY logistical trail."
Dr. Miharu smirked. "In that case, is it really a war after all? It's like being attacked
by beasts from the forests. Can it ever end without comitting genocide on the
Angels? Now that we know that alien life really exists... it sounds such a waste to
spend so much on just killing each other. Is it not a good enough end to war just for
both to stop fighting?"
"And speaking of which..." Miranda Coffrey cut in with a wan smile. "It seems now
that UN has been preparing for the Angels' return, for these last ten years. Were you
aware of this, Professor Yang?"
He nodded. But of course. The sinkhole that used to be Beijing-2, or Shenyang,
proved China's complicity in NERV affairs. They paid for it in the loss of their new
capital city and millions of lives.
The woman's expression was searching. Why wasn't Yang showing even the slightest
bit of anger? If NERV hadn't put their Evangelion production site there, it would
never have been a target. "If you knew then what you do now, what would you have
done? What if you had been put in charge of the defense, instead of..." and here she
gimaced slightly. "Ikari."
Both; her tone implied the answer to the unspoken common query. Houko looked
sour, while the two other Japanese men nodded in agreement. Yang wanted to
laugh.
"If I have been put in charge, I'd have said this was a war that simply CANNOT be
won. The applicable plan would be to somehow exhaust the Angels against a
prepared killing field- which, incidentally, is what NERV had done with Tokyo-3. It's
working. The problem is that we have no way of knowing if the enemy is anywhere
even close to being sapped of their reserves." He took a sip of his drink. "And now
with the added complication of the Cradle... it's impossible. Trying to hold ground
will lead to us eventually being worn down to nothing. Unfortunately we lack any
capability to counterattack."
"So you agree then! Somehow we must negotiate or encourage the Angels to stop
attacking- violence is no solution here. We can at least -talk- to those of the Cradle."
'If you knew what I now know; violence is the perfect solution here.' Yang thought.
'Because we DO have the capability to counterattack. The Angels aren't -aliens-
at all. And there IS a way to get rid of all of them all at once.'
"Normally, you would be correct. This is not a normal situation." He smiled thinly. "I
prefer not to comment on that until we have sufficient information."
"Information at NERV." Minister Kurata said smugly. "Information that's being
hidden from us. Information is power, wouldn't you say, Yang-sensei? If we had
some other way of handling the Angels, we could focus more on dealing with
the threat of the Cradle... and Ikari." He flicked a look at Houko. "Reducing NERV's
power is just a side-effect, but breaking a monopoly can only help our economy."
"Ah. Right. The high wages around Tokyo-3 is pumping inflation elsewhere. You're
experiencing a little bubble right now, aren't you?"
Little? Heh. If the war ends, UN funding dries up. Then as Tokyo-3 implodes, it
would take the rest of the country along with it. Yang took another sip. Uknown
to them, there was a way out of it- the Treasure Box. Houko looked completely
unworried. Unfortunately, it was not something they could reveal just yet.
It would only work if a quick, decisive end to the war could be forced. Even more
unfortunate- the way to end the war looks just as bad as simply losing the war.
"We can get through this." Kurata was saying. "Peace is worth fighting for."
"Oh you have no idea..." Yang murmured.
"Oh so THAT'S Katsuragi." Coffrey said with a sniff. "I'll say this much, she cleans
up well enough. But coming here in her dress uniform, my god, that's beyond
crass."
"Why not? She is a woman, but also a soldier. Being NERV's supreme commander
trumps being a hanger-on to Ryouji's arm." She looked ready to fight, which was
not comforting to certain groups.
Coffrey turned back to see Yang glaring at the entering couple over the rim of his
glass. She couldn't help but to laugh. "Is that jealousy I see there, professor?"
"I have sufficient reasons to dislike Ryouji, it doesn't have to involve Katsuragi."
Yang's face was carefully bland. And, by the mischievious glint in the blonde's eyes,
as expected she chose to believe that it really was about Katsuragi.
The Minister of Culture was not as privy to the details as the Minister of Defense, but
had enough of the big picture as was needed to perform damage control and
recovery once it was all over. Ryouji had been very helpful, but coming here with
Katsuragi was as clear as a message of ambiguity could be. He quirked his lips. Or it
could be a plea for mercy. The spy was unrelenting in his pursuit of the truth, but
once it was in his hands, it was only with the promise of lenience for Katsuragi that
he handed it over.
"No public demonstrations, no black leatherboots on parade, no flag-waving, no
songs." the historian from Kyoto-2 murmured. "We just need to accept our own
responsibilities."
"Hm?" Yang noted distractedly. Was this old teacher informed of the situation or was
he just just guessing quite well? "You seriously can't expect me to say anyone else
has better expertise than those with the most experience at killing aliens."
"The institution lives, Yang-sensei. We've accepted that change must come. NERV does good work, but from what I've seen... isn't -good- per se. Good has never come
from granting too much power into organizations accountable only to themselves."
"Which NERV is not. They serve no internal security, if it wasn't for the fact that
Evangelions are walking monstrosities, they function very similar to a Navy with its
support structure. I'm sure -you- remember what it means for a powerful attack force
to be caught unprepared." Yang smiled fondly. "The Land Dreadnought is rather well-
named." His cheer faded. "And now with Fortress Sturmbrand, air battleships aren't
too far in the future."
"It's ridiculous, isn't it? On one hand, we have all of these massive achievements,
and behind closed doors we learn that Akagi is cutting up children!" Minister Kurata
turned to Houko and asked with a slight smirk "Considering how close the pilots are
to each other, one must wonder how this will affect their relationship to their
handlers when they wake up or return from overseas."
"Secrets can be poisonous things." Dr. Miharu added. "One must wonder just how
much knowledge the older Ikari must have allowed to the younger."
Houko grit his teeth. He was a fairly large man, towering over the shrunken old
historian. "With respect to your age and position, Miharu-hakase... are you
implying what I think you're implying? He'd never allow that to happen to Ayanami!
That's slander!"
The old man just shook his head sadly. "This is the danger, you see? It was just
an idle thought. Perhaps you have forgotten, that rather than defend the boy's
reputation, perhaps a Child needs to be protected from further abuse."
"And it still remains that no one else other than these can pilot the Evangelions."
Yang replied evenly. "Or, in fact, that there are ANY other Evangelions."
The old man leaned in close and whispered. "... that is a lie."
"Not the part about the lack of Evangelions." Yang replied without missing a beat.
Coffrey gasped, but then smirked in triumph. That was something she didn't know,
but it was no surprise that Yang had either figured it out or had someone dig it out.
They were being uncharacteristically loose-lipped, she noticed. Was she supposed
to be impressed? It would soon be media fodder, anyway.
The music's tempo changed into one suitable for dancing. Coffrey licked her
full red lips and put her hands on her hips. "Well now, gentlemen, this conversation
has gone a bit too dark for my tastes-" and turning to Yang. "Professor, would you
care to dance?"
"No, thank you." was the quick reply. "I'd rather stay here, if you don't mind." He
looked pointedly out the picture window again.
Coffrey laughed gaily, shrugging off the rejection. "Oh come now, professor. I'm
sure you do know how to dance." She moved to get a look outside. "What's so
interesting out there, anyway?"
Yang gave a slight sigh. "Mm. Life. The universe. Everything." He shook his head.
"But if you want to hear something more concrete- eight million men and more
submarines crowded in one sea than any other point and perhaps never again
in history." Then in a whisper, seemingly forgetting where he was, "...and these
hours just wasting away."
The Minister of Culture blinked nervously behind his square-lensed spectacles.
She looked at the nervous faces of the Japanese men around her and laughed
again. "Oh, Yang- thank you for encouraging investment in Africa. You had the
chance for conquest back then... and now, instead, you're here."
It was quite obvious to her. Why would China attack when Yang wasn't there to
command their strategy? Japan had quite the edge in technology and UN NAVY
support. If Yang had something so unsubtle in mind, then he wouldn't have put
himself as the hostage of a future enemy.
Yang just shrugged. "For whatever good it does."
Coffrey gave her most charming smile. "Then why not relax for at least tonight,
professor? Pining away won't do you much good."
There was a the barest flicker in his expression, and suddenly it seemed as if Yang
had... changed. There was just the slightest bit of a smile on his face, his eyes
narrowing slightly, and yet it was one that seemed to say
'Bitch, -please-. You think
you know who I am?'
The tall woman stepped back, frightened, then sniffed pridefully as she hurriedly
turned away. Yang gave the others a look that clearly communicated 'get
the hell out
of my face'. The men too retreated, frowning but somewhat satisfied. Just as they
expected from a 'gaijin', to be so rude and uncultured. Houko however, seemed a bit
more hurt by the hostility.
He looked back with a faintly betrayed gaze. Yang just sighed, shook his head, and
stared off into the balcony again.
At that same moment, a flotilla was already halfway across the Pacific. It had the
standard carrier group formation, except that the center was a large modified tanker
rather than an aircraft carrier. Yang looked at his watch. Sixteen hours. He took a
careful sip of the wine in his hand. Eleven years of not touching anything stronger
than tea, gone. He deserved it now.
'Just a little bit longer now, Mei.' A somewhat sinister chuckle escaped his lips as the
warmth of alcohol rushed down his throat.
-
-
Btw, according to dialogue, Sahaquiel's attack would have made the Hakone region 'part of the Pacific Ocean'. I don't know however how big that crater would be. It's not also mentioned anywhere the effects of the Angel's 'sighting' bombardments; shouldn't it be causing earthquakes and/or tsunamis? Did it ever hit the ocean?
In any case, Beijing-2 is Shenyang, defensible and well inland. Woops. I kind of fucked up the rationale of 'there's nothing in China worth nuking', but of course Beijing-2 is just the capital. The industry around the Yellow Sea and the swollen Yangtze is still valuable. Then there's Hong Kong and even Hainan offshore. Still, the Navy under Yang's orders should still be pretty certain it would be a waste of time to make a retaliatory nuclear strike on the mainland. But it's still a damn big risk.
I've written that Beijing 2's part of the Pacific Ocean (technically, Yellow Sea), but woops again, that's hundreds of kilometers of land. Even if Sahaquiel's AT-field attack somehow vaporizes the rock instead of throwing up a cloud of dust into the air, I should still have written something of environmental effects. It might be easier to just edit that out, but a massive crater doesn't sound as impressive as a new inland sea.
edit:
Kinda like this.
Which is totally unworkable. I could instead pick a different city closer to the coast though. But dammit, I like how 'Shenyang' sounds.
