10
The fic that's old enough to drink.
At least I was drinking age ten
N-n-n-n-n-n-n-nn-Necropost!
--
Darkness came, but none of us could sleep. I lay in bed in my nightwear, scratching myself, dipping a toe in a few teenaged fantasies. Asuka shuffled under her blankets, alternating between reading, clicking away at the keys on her phone and trying to sleep.
Nature called. Shinji'd beaten me to the bathroom, leaving his bedroom undefended.
And I was forced to conclude the absolute worst part about being a teenager is that sometimes you just do the dumbest or weirdest things and you don't even realise you've done them until you wake up in the middle of the night cradling a pillow in your arms that you've sprayed in Shinji's deoderant.
Not that I'd done that.
Don't judge me.
The sun rose again.
Life carried on. Another 24 hours had given the city more time to recover. Most of the obvious cracks had been patched. The resources of the entire world poured into Tokyo 3, to give the whole world a chance.
America went broke. Africa starved. Europe glowed. Tokyo-3.
I had to stop and take stock of this place.
I sat on a bench watching a half-dozen helicopters crane a truck-sized rifle across the city skyline, wondering when such dream-like images had become routine.
But then again, what had the line been?
Where is my reality?
At the end of your dreams.
My whole life before now, sat there as a two-decade long dream of rationality and sanity, feeding into this life of giant robots and Angels things that belonged on a Saturday morning cartoon.
I'd gone from the anonymous periphery of a cyberpunk technothriller in the making, to the main cast of a Saturday morning anime.
That made me laugh.
Misato waited for me in her red jacket, grave expression on her face. Opposite, sat Shinji in his nightshirt and shorts
"We need to talk," said Misato.
Fuck.
I took a seat without throwing up.
We're being stood down in favour of a nuclear arsenal. There's another Angel on the way. We know what you are, Noriko.
My blood chilled as Misato drew in a deep breath, clasping her hands in front of her
"We've all had time to sleep in it, and think about what happened. And I want to know how you feel about...."
"About irradiating an entire continent?"
Asuka crossed her arms in front of her breasts, daring Misato to answer.
Misato took a single, calm breath "I thought you should know, Asuka, before you say anything else. So Far, we lost One Point Four million people this time. Not including radiation casualties."
One Point Four Million People.
Asuka's jaw hinged open. "How?" she breathed.
"A quarter of a million in Minamiizu. Another hundred thousand along the coast as the wave washed ashore from the first drop. Four Hundred thousand in China. Three hundred thousand in the Philipine Federation. Two hundred in Indonesia. A hundred in South America. Fifty in Hawaii. Another fifty in the United States proper. Twenty-Five in the North Australian Republic. And more. The projections are still coming in."
Mother... And that's where my mind stopped dead. One and a half million people. Bigger than a statistic. Bigger than I could swallow in one bite. Bigger than my imagination could understand. Anything else I could possibly say just didn't seem like enough. What else could I say?
Pooteewheet?
"We're supposed to help people, Misato. That's what you told me," said Shinji, his voice calm, even. He looked right at her.
"And we saved two point seven billion," answered Misato, wearing that Sisterly smile of hers. "We can't judge ourselves for the enemy's actions,."
She looked at me. I sat back. Maybe I was wrong, to compare Misato's decision with Omelas.
With Omelas, when those who turn their backs on the city powered by a forsaken child leave, there's no consequence to the city. It's inhabitants will continue as they always have and those few who find it reprehensible can continue to leave.
If we turn away, then the world ends.
Gone.
When walking away from Omelas means certain death for the city and everyone who lives there, do I have the right to leave? Philosophy and ethics were never my strongpoint, but I think I had an answer I could stand over.
"We're still alive. And just rolling over and dying because it's easier than feeling guilty is wrong."
Choosing not to launch, would be no different, than choosing to destroy the world.
Asuka glared, aghast. Misato gave me that warm sisterly smile of hers, a proverbial pat on the head and I congratulated myself on giving the right answer.
Sorhyu's expression twisted into a malignant sneer. "I know the real reason you did it. And If I'm right, then you should never be forgiven," she hissed through her teeth.
"So be it," said Misato. "We had no choice."
Asuka said nothing, standing there with her mouth open waiting for words that just wouldn't come. Misato glared, daring her to burst out.
"I'll never understand the impact generation," said Shinji.
"Thank fuck," I added, under my breath.
Asuka took a deep breath, and I braced. "Oh the cruel Impact Generation for whom a hundred million is a statistic, look at you like you're the next Colonel Grun if you don't eat all your food and would kill their own mothers to save their skins. Aren't we all lucky they can be so ruthless they'll poison thousands of people just for their own revenge."
Misato glared, teeth clenched, wanting to snap off but knowing far better than to rise to the challenge. I sat waiting.
She opened her mouth to speak.
The opening door cut her off.
"Ayanami," said Shinji, stepping up.
She stood there, wearing a scruffy school uniform with nearly a week's worth of wear on it, holding her satchel in her hand and nothing else.
"My apartment was destroyed," she said, "I have orders."
And then stepped inside. That was that.
Asuka smothered a german curse, dropping into a hard wooden chair. Neither of them looked particularly thrilled at the idea of sharing an apartment with the other.
"They could've told me," Misato placed a palm against the side of her head, before grinding her face into something approximating a smile. "Welcome aboard. You can stay in the girl's room."
Asuka sneered. "There's no space in there."
The idea sparked in the back of my mind, racing to my lips riding a bolt of mischief. "She can have my bed. I'll sleep with Shinji."
"What?"
The look on Asuka's face pulled a smile to my lips. Showing the quick wit and reactions expected of an Evangelion pilot, Shinji sat there and stared.
"Hmmm. No, we can't have that." Midato touched a cheeky finger to her lips "You can sleep with Ayanami,"
Damn. Two weeks ago, I might've cared.
Asuka stepped up to our new roommate, inspecting. Rei went stiff. I'm sure Shinji did too. I watched hhim glance between all three of us, before finally settling on me, puzzling me out.
Did I mean it?
Really, I don't know yet.
"Is that all you have to wear?" Asuka plucked at Rei's blue uniform. "And that smell?" She wrinkled her nose. "The shower's through that door. Get yourself washed up while we find something to lend you for the time being so you an at least look like you belong."
Rei glared at Asuka, standing her ground.
"It's a good idea," said Misato. "You'll feel much better afterwards."
"I shall," Rei nodded, dropped her things on the floor and went inside without grabbing a towel, resigned to following orders.
"You two. Find her some clothes you don't like."
I could feel Shinji watching watching me as I followed Asuka to our room. The door closed. She heeled around to face me.
"I can't believe you picked her side, Noriko..."
Backfooted, I pressed myself against the door.
"I don't like dying."
I'd learned from experience.
"It's the principal of the thing," said Asuka., sweeping her arm in front of her. "We don't want them thinking they have options other than Us, or what happens then?" A dozen fanfics, or thereabout. "We're the only thing that can save the world. If something comes along and replaces us, what'll be left? Think about that."
She stared me down, aiming a finger at my chest. I didn't like thinking about that. I wonder what she'd think if they knew I had nightmares about that.
"The Angels can adapt to bombs," I said, stepping into the room pushing into her space.
"But they won't think of that. They'll just see a brilliant mushroom cloud and a few casualties in the future and think that it's so much easier to do it again and again rather than have us around."
I caught the trope.
"And then we get to make our glorious comeback from mothballs at the last minute. That's how it normally goes,"
"What?" she blinked, looking right at me with her arms stopped mid-gesture. Slowly, they fell down to her side.
"An old film. I can't remember what it was called."
A great way of avoiding having to name a film that I knew never even existed. My phone on the table warbled. I looked at it.
"Sync test this afternoon?" Asked Asuka. She filtered through her underwear, picking out the plain, the dull and the well-worn – things she could bear to part with.
"Back to the grind." I sighed, glancing at the screen. "At least I can wear my plugsuit again."
"So Shinji can see you?" she needled.
Now, I regretted making the joke.
"I just learned that I like boys. Give me a break. I'm still getting used to these new and weird feelings deep inside me." I placed a hand on my stomache.
"If you're not careful it'll be more than a new and weird feeling deep inside you."
Part of my body revolted against the idea. A growing part pricked up its ears and listened for more.
"He's not like that." I folded my arms. I didn't meant to defend him. I knew what it sounded like, but that wasn't what I meant.
"He's domesticated?" she grinned, holding a pair of panties.
"A beginner-level male," I sat on the bed, trying to sort my feelings out in my mind. "This is still really weird."
Otherwise known as puberty. I'd done it before. That didn't stop it being weird and strange, like growing a new limb on your back or something. It felt completely different to what I remembered, but exactly the same at the same time.
Sorhyu leered at me, "To move up to something a little rougher, like Kaji?"
I smiled at her, shrugging my shoulders. And now this had become my new normal. This is who I am now. Not a bad person. Not a bad life. Not even bad feelings. I liked myself, I liked by body. I liked what I did. I liked my place in the world.
I win, Nagisa. I win at Evangelion.
And my revenge will be my happiness.
--
I woke in the middle of night to a still and silent room. Rei had stopped snoring. Or Asuka had finally had enough and smothered her. Children were crying in a distant apartment. I lay in every Evangelion fanboy's dream, lying hot and sweaty under the covers with the real Rei Ayanami.
Both of us lay breast-to-breast, nipple-to-nipple, wearing nothing but breezy nightwear barely hanging on. Our nipples touched at the apex of a breath, a momentary static shock forcing both of us to slip back. Our legs slipped against each others, soft, sweat-slick skin sliding apart.
Gazing at her pursed lips as drew soft, sibilant breaths, only one thought entered my mind.
I hate sharing beds. Especially with the air conditioner dead.
--
In my plugsuit, I became my true self. The first image of me that I could accept. Not a guy stuffed into some girls body, or a girl saddled with some guy's memories – but the Fourth Child. The Pilot of Unit 03.
I faced down the end of the world.
The end of the world felt easier to deal with than another day of unemployment. At least I could do something proactive about the end of the world.
The locker room door opened. Two armed guards waited for me outside.
"Pilot Nagato. Follow us."
They know! The idea bolted through my mind before my eyes caught the friendly smile on their face. Even if the smile told me I had nothing to worry about, nothing chilled the bone like armed guards in full body armour.
Why?
What had I done?
Is this because I fucked with Kensuke's head?
I followed them up to the command level, my stomach rising along with the lift. They said nothing to betray what this was about, standing either side of me. Left. Right. Left again. My own access card wouldn't have let me get this high up. It trapped me inside as doors sealed themselves behind me, pushing me forward.
They beckoned. me through a single door labelled 'conference 4'.The Commander?
Shadows shimmered at the edge of my vision. The hairs on my neck prickled, thrills racing around my body as I readied for the attack. A single harsh spotlight nailed me to the ground, pulling beads of sweat from my face.
"For the record, please state your name, service branch, rank, service number and service capacity."
A male voice, booming from all around. My head spun, trying to pin it down. There had to be speakers in the walls, somewhere. It came from everywhere at once, pushing me into place.
"Lieutenant First Grade Noriko Nagato. United Nations Special Research Agency NERV. Nine-One-Seven-Eight-Four-Three-Six-Zero-Zero-Four-Juliette. Operations Division."
The automatic answer.
"You are the assigned Pilot of Evangelion Unit 03, correct?"
A different voice. Higher pitch, more nasal.
"Yes," I answered. The darkness swallowed my voice.
"You must answer any questions put forward by this committee truthfully and to the best of your abilities and knowledge. You may not refuse to answer. Refusal to answer or deliberate misinformation will be punished in accordance with internation law. Therefore, in respect to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, nothing recorded in this session may be used against you or your guardian in a criminal or civil prosecution. Do you understand this caution?"
Third voice. Definitely natural Japanese.
"Yes."
That was my first lie.
"This Committee has been called to evaluate the chain of events and decision making process which led to the request for order A-dash-Eleven-Thirty-Two and the subsequent use of nuclear weapons on the Fifteenth of September last. In your own words, please recount the events as you saw them."
The first one again. I guessed an American.
"From?"
I stalled for time to gather my thoughts, hoping they'd let me make it a short story.
"From the time of the First Alert."
Fuck.
It took me a few moments. I read my own after-action-report from memory. It was dry and factual. This was the situation, these were the solutions suggested that I was aware of, this was what I was ordered to do. This was who ordered me to do it. This was the effect of that order. Our own AAR's didn't ask for much in depth analysis of command decisions - they were more focused on our own individual performance and piloting capabilities. How could we improve ourselves, how could we respond faster, was our response to our orders the correct one? Should we have suggested a different course of action, or should we have acted on our own initiative? What should I have done differently?
We weren't robots; we were the Pilots of giant robots.
Nasal voice cut me off.
"Do you think Major Katsuragi made the correct decision?"
But I knew the answer to this.
"It is not my place to question orders. An order is an order."
Nuremberg defence. It worked for the winners.
"To rephrase. Assume you have command. Would you have considered this option?"
No, I amn't the target. I felt it land on my shoulder, heavy. They wanted Misato.
"I wouldn't have been able to think of it as an option."
Because, when you get right down to it, Misato was Operations Director for one reason, and one reason only. It wasn't tactical genius or inspiration, or any of the traditional qualities of command or management. When you got right down to it, Misato got the job because she would do whatever was necessary to destroy an Angel, without blinking, without flinching, without ever looking for permission or forgiveness. She would never give up, until she had her revenge.
"A diplomatic answer." said the first, "Given the option. Would you have taken it?"
I answered quick, trying to dodge. Trying not to fuck up and give a solid answer that could be turned against me.
"Without knowing what other options she had. I think Mi.... Major Katsuragi made the necessary decision."
"But not the right one?" He pushed, proving I wasn't cut out for a career in politics.
"It was the right decision." And I said it with conviction. I'd believe it too, in time. Just to protect Misato.
"You do not have to protect your guardian," said the first voice.
Fuck.
"In fact," the second continued. "It may harm her standing if you lie in her defense."
I stopped, weighing my options. If I told the truth, would they call it a lie. Fuck them.
"Major Katsuragi did the right thing. Stopping the Angels comes first. We're fighting for survival. I'd rather be alive than right."
Silence. And I meant it. I swallowed a deep breath, bad memories crawling up my spine. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.
"Thank you. That is all we require. Your statement before this tribunal is classified Umbra Top Secret and is not to be discussed beyond this room. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
The spotlight went off, leaving me cold in the dark. The people who would cause Third Impact had left me alone.
Naturally, the first thing I did after leaving the room was message Asuka and warn her.
--------
--
At least I was drinking age ten
N-n-n-n-n-n-n-nn-Necropost!
--
Darkness came, but none of us could sleep. I lay in bed in my nightwear, scratching myself, dipping a toe in a few teenaged fantasies. Asuka shuffled under her blankets, alternating between reading, clicking away at the keys on her phone and trying to sleep.
Nature called. Shinji'd beaten me to the bathroom, leaving his bedroom undefended.
And I was forced to conclude the absolute worst part about being a teenager is that sometimes you just do the dumbest or weirdest things and you don't even realise you've done them until you wake up in the middle of the night cradling a pillow in your arms that you've sprayed in Shinji's deoderant.
Not that I'd done that.
Don't judge me.
The sun rose again.
Life carried on. Another 24 hours had given the city more time to recover. Most of the obvious cracks had been patched. The resources of the entire world poured into Tokyo 3, to give the whole world a chance.
America went broke. Africa starved. Europe glowed. Tokyo-3.
I had to stop and take stock of this place.
I sat on a bench watching a half-dozen helicopters crane a truck-sized rifle across the city skyline, wondering when such dream-like images had become routine.
But then again, what had the line been?
Where is my reality?
At the end of your dreams.
My whole life before now, sat there as a two-decade long dream of rationality and sanity, feeding into this life of giant robots and Angels things that belonged on a Saturday morning cartoon.
I'd gone from the anonymous periphery of a cyberpunk technothriller in the making, to the main cast of a Saturday morning anime.
That made me laugh.
Misato waited for me in her red jacket, grave expression on her face. Opposite, sat Shinji in his nightshirt and shorts
"We need to talk," said Misato.
Fuck.
I took a seat without throwing up.
We're being stood down in favour of a nuclear arsenal. There's another Angel on the way. We know what you are, Noriko.
My blood chilled as Misato drew in a deep breath, clasping her hands in front of her
"We've all had time to sleep in it, and think about what happened. And I want to know how you feel about...."
"About irradiating an entire continent?"
Asuka crossed her arms in front of her breasts, daring Misato to answer.
Misato took a single, calm breath "I thought you should know, Asuka, before you say anything else. So Far, we lost One Point Four million people this time. Not including radiation casualties."
One Point Four Million People.
Asuka's jaw hinged open. "How?" she breathed.
"A quarter of a million in Minamiizu. Another hundred thousand along the coast as the wave washed ashore from the first drop. Four Hundred thousand in China. Three hundred thousand in the Philipine Federation. Two hundred in Indonesia. A hundred in South America. Fifty in Hawaii. Another fifty in the United States proper. Twenty-Five in the North Australian Republic. And more. The projections are still coming in."
Mother... And that's where my mind stopped dead. One and a half million people. Bigger than a statistic. Bigger than I could swallow in one bite. Bigger than my imagination could understand. Anything else I could possibly say just didn't seem like enough. What else could I say?
Pooteewheet?
"We're supposed to help people, Misato. That's what you told me," said Shinji, his voice calm, even. He looked right at her.
"And we saved two point seven billion," answered Misato, wearing that Sisterly smile of hers. "We can't judge ourselves for the enemy's actions,."
She looked at me. I sat back. Maybe I was wrong, to compare Misato's decision with Omelas.
With Omelas, when those who turn their backs on the city powered by a forsaken child leave, there's no consequence to the city. It's inhabitants will continue as they always have and those few who find it reprehensible can continue to leave.
If we turn away, then the world ends.
Gone.
When walking away from Omelas means certain death for the city and everyone who lives there, do I have the right to leave? Philosophy and ethics were never my strongpoint, but I think I had an answer I could stand over.
"We're still alive. And just rolling over and dying because it's easier than feeling guilty is wrong."
Choosing not to launch, would be no different, than choosing to destroy the world.
Asuka glared, aghast. Misato gave me that warm sisterly smile of hers, a proverbial pat on the head and I congratulated myself on giving the right answer.
Sorhyu's expression twisted into a malignant sneer. "I know the real reason you did it. And If I'm right, then you should never be forgiven," she hissed through her teeth.
"So be it," said Misato. "We had no choice."
Asuka said nothing, standing there with her mouth open waiting for words that just wouldn't come. Misato glared, daring her to burst out.
"I'll never understand the impact generation," said Shinji.
"Thank fuck," I added, under my breath.
Asuka took a deep breath, and I braced. "Oh the cruel Impact Generation for whom a hundred million is a statistic, look at you like you're the next Colonel Grun if you don't eat all your food and would kill their own mothers to save their skins. Aren't we all lucky they can be so ruthless they'll poison thousands of people just for their own revenge."
Misato glared, teeth clenched, wanting to snap off but knowing far better than to rise to the challenge. I sat waiting.
She opened her mouth to speak.
The opening door cut her off.
"Ayanami," said Shinji, stepping up.
She stood there, wearing a scruffy school uniform with nearly a week's worth of wear on it, holding her satchel in her hand and nothing else.
"My apartment was destroyed," she said, "I have orders."
And then stepped inside. That was that.
Asuka smothered a german curse, dropping into a hard wooden chair. Neither of them looked particularly thrilled at the idea of sharing an apartment with the other.
"They could've told me," Misato placed a palm against the side of her head, before grinding her face into something approximating a smile. "Welcome aboard. You can stay in the girl's room."
Asuka sneered. "There's no space in there."
The idea sparked in the back of my mind, racing to my lips riding a bolt of mischief. "She can have my bed. I'll sleep with Shinji."
"What?"
The look on Asuka's face pulled a smile to my lips. Showing the quick wit and reactions expected of an Evangelion pilot, Shinji sat there and stared.
"Hmmm. No, we can't have that." Midato touched a cheeky finger to her lips "You can sleep with Ayanami,"
Damn. Two weeks ago, I might've cared.
Asuka stepped up to our new roommate, inspecting. Rei went stiff. I'm sure Shinji did too. I watched hhim glance between all three of us, before finally settling on me, puzzling me out.
Did I mean it?
Really, I don't know yet.
"Is that all you have to wear?" Asuka plucked at Rei's blue uniform. "And that smell?" She wrinkled her nose. "The shower's through that door. Get yourself washed up while we find something to lend you for the time being so you an at least look like you belong."
Rei glared at Asuka, standing her ground.
"It's a good idea," said Misato. "You'll feel much better afterwards."
"I shall," Rei nodded, dropped her things on the floor and went inside without grabbing a towel, resigned to following orders.
"You two. Find her some clothes you don't like."
I could feel Shinji watching watching me as I followed Asuka to our room. The door closed. She heeled around to face me.
"I can't believe you picked her side, Noriko..."
Backfooted, I pressed myself against the door.
"I don't like dying."
I'd learned from experience.
"It's the principal of the thing," said Asuka., sweeping her arm in front of her. "We don't want them thinking they have options other than Us, or what happens then?" A dozen fanfics, or thereabout. "We're the only thing that can save the world. If something comes along and replaces us, what'll be left? Think about that."
She stared me down, aiming a finger at my chest. I didn't like thinking about that. I wonder what she'd think if they knew I had nightmares about that.
"The Angels can adapt to bombs," I said, stepping into the room pushing into her space.
"But they won't think of that. They'll just see a brilliant mushroom cloud and a few casualties in the future and think that it's so much easier to do it again and again rather than have us around."
I caught the trope.
"And then we get to make our glorious comeback from mothballs at the last minute. That's how it normally goes,"
"What?" she blinked, looking right at me with her arms stopped mid-gesture. Slowly, they fell down to her side.
"An old film. I can't remember what it was called."
A great way of avoiding having to name a film that I knew never even existed. My phone on the table warbled. I looked at it.
"Sync test this afternoon?" Asked Asuka. She filtered through her underwear, picking out the plain, the dull and the well-worn – things she could bear to part with.
"Back to the grind." I sighed, glancing at the screen. "At least I can wear my plugsuit again."
"So Shinji can see you?" she needled.
Now, I regretted making the joke.
"I just learned that I like boys. Give me a break. I'm still getting used to these new and weird feelings deep inside me." I placed a hand on my stomache.
"If you're not careful it'll be more than a new and weird feeling deep inside you."
Part of my body revolted against the idea. A growing part pricked up its ears and listened for more.
"He's not like that." I folded my arms. I didn't meant to defend him. I knew what it sounded like, but that wasn't what I meant.
"He's domesticated?" she grinned, holding a pair of panties.
"A beginner-level male," I sat on the bed, trying to sort my feelings out in my mind. "This is still really weird."
Otherwise known as puberty. I'd done it before. That didn't stop it being weird and strange, like growing a new limb on your back or something. It felt completely different to what I remembered, but exactly the same at the same time.
Sorhyu leered at me, "To move up to something a little rougher, like Kaji?"
I smiled at her, shrugging my shoulders. And now this had become my new normal. This is who I am now. Not a bad person. Not a bad life. Not even bad feelings. I liked myself, I liked by body. I liked what I did. I liked my place in the world.
I win, Nagisa. I win at Evangelion.
And my revenge will be my happiness.
--
I woke in the middle of night to a still and silent room. Rei had stopped snoring. Or Asuka had finally had enough and smothered her. Children were crying in a distant apartment. I lay in every Evangelion fanboy's dream, lying hot and sweaty under the covers with the real Rei Ayanami.
Both of us lay breast-to-breast, nipple-to-nipple, wearing nothing but breezy nightwear barely hanging on. Our nipples touched at the apex of a breath, a momentary static shock forcing both of us to slip back. Our legs slipped against each others, soft, sweat-slick skin sliding apart.
Gazing at her pursed lips as drew soft, sibilant breaths, only one thought entered my mind.
I hate sharing beds. Especially with the air conditioner dead.
--
In my plugsuit, I became my true self. The first image of me that I could accept. Not a guy stuffed into some girls body, or a girl saddled with some guy's memories – but the Fourth Child. The Pilot of Unit 03.
I faced down the end of the world.
The end of the world felt easier to deal with than another day of unemployment. At least I could do something proactive about the end of the world.
The locker room door opened. Two armed guards waited for me outside.
"Pilot Nagato. Follow us."
They know! The idea bolted through my mind before my eyes caught the friendly smile on their face. Even if the smile told me I had nothing to worry about, nothing chilled the bone like armed guards in full body armour.
Why?
What had I done?
Is this because I fucked with Kensuke's head?
I followed them up to the command level, my stomach rising along with the lift. They said nothing to betray what this was about, standing either side of me. Left. Right. Left again. My own access card wouldn't have let me get this high up. It trapped me inside as doors sealed themselves behind me, pushing me forward.
They beckoned. me through a single door labelled 'conference 4'.The Commander?
Shadows shimmered at the edge of my vision. The hairs on my neck prickled, thrills racing around my body as I readied for the attack. A single harsh spotlight nailed me to the ground, pulling beads of sweat from my face.
"For the record, please state your name, service branch, rank, service number and service capacity."
A male voice, booming from all around. My head spun, trying to pin it down. There had to be speakers in the walls, somewhere. It came from everywhere at once, pushing me into place.
"Lieutenant First Grade Noriko Nagato. United Nations Special Research Agency NERV. Nine-One-Seven-Eight-Four-Three-Six-Zero-Zero-Four-Juliette. Operations Division."
The automatic answer.
"You are the assigned Pilot of Evangelion Unit 03, correct?"
A different voice. Higher pitch, more nasal.
"Yes," I answered. The darkness swallowed my voice.
"You must answer any questions put forward by this committee truthfully and to the best of your abilities and knowledge. You may not refuse to answer. Refusal to answer or deliberate misinformation will be punished in accordance with internation law. Therefore, in respect to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, nothing recorded in this session may be used against you or your guardian in a criminal or civil prosecution. Do you understand this caution?"
Third voice. Definitely natural Japanese.
"Yes."
That was my first lie.
"This Committee has been called to evaluate the chain of events and decision making process which led to the request for order A-dash-Eleven-Thirty-Two and the subsequent use of nuclear weapons on the Fifteenth of September last. In your own words, please recount the events as you saw them."
The first one again. I guessed an American.
"From?"
I stalled for time to gather my thoughts, hoping they'd let me make it a short story.
"From the time of the First Alert."
Fuck.
It took me a few moments. I read my own after-action-report from memory. It was dry and factual. This was the situation, these were the solutions suggested that I was aware of, this was what I was ordered to do. This was who ordered me to do it. This was the effect of that order. Our own AAR's didn't ask for much in depth analysis of command decisions - they were more focused on our own individual performance and piloting capabilities. How could we improve ourselves, how could we respond faster, was our response to our orders the correct one? Should we have suggested a different course of action, or should we have acted on our own initiative? What should I have done differently?
We weren't robots; we were the Pilots of giant robots.
Nasal voice cut me off.
"Do you think Major Katsuragi made the correct decision?"
But I knew the answer to this.
"It is not my place to question orders. An order is an order."
Nuremberg defence. It worked for the winners.
"To rephrase. Assume you have command. Would you have considered this option?"
No, I amn't the target. I felt it land on my shoulder, heavy. They wanted Misato.
"I wouldn't have been able to think of it as an option."
Because, when you get right down to it, Misato was Operations Director for one reason, and one reason only. It wasn't tactical genius or inspiration, or any of the traditional qualities of command or management. When you got right down to it, Misato got the job because she would do whatever was necessary to destroy an Angel, without blinking, without flinching, without ever looking for permission or forgiveness. She would never give up, until she had her revenge.
"A diplomatic answer." said the first, "Given the option. Would you have taken it?"
I answered quick, trying to dodge. Trying not to fuck up and give a solid answer that could be turned against me.
"Without knowing what other options she had. I think Mi.... Major Katsuragi made the necessary decision."
"But not the right one?" He pushed, proving I wasn't cut out for a career in politics.
"It was the right decision." And I said it with conviction. I'd believe it too, in time. Just to protect Misato.
"You do not have to protect your guardian," said the first voice.
Fuck.
"In fact," the second continued. "It may harm her standing if you lie in her defense."
I stopped, weighing my options. If I told the truth, would they call it a lie. Fuck them.
"Major Katsuragi did the right thing. Stopping the Angels comes first. We're fighting for survival. I'd rather be alive than right."
Silence. And I meant it. I swallowed a deep breath, bad memories crawling up my spine. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.
"Thank you. That is all we require. Your statement before this tribunal is classified Umbra Top Secret and is not to be discussed beyond this room. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
The spotlight went off, leaving me cold in the dark. The people who would cause Third Impact had left me alone.
Naturally, the first thing I did after leaving the room was message Asuka and warn her.
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