Daniel Gibson
21st June 2006, 05:22 PM
53 - Dimm'd Fereigners Part 1 of 2
X-Original-Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2006 13:20:13 GMT
Followup-To: rec.arts.anime.fandom
Chapter 53 - Dimm'd Fereigners
[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter 53 -
Dimm'd Fereigners
The character Janice Berkley was created by Rory McLean, and is used with
his full permission.
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these stories.
C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments@worldnet.att.net
Stories are available in Rich Text Format and HTML at:
http://home.att.net/~danjess.gibson<http://home.att.net/%7Edanjess.gibson>
(these are the most updated versions)
Stories are available in Plain ASCII at:
http://archives.eyrie.org/anime/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
ftp://ftp.cs.ubc.ca/pub/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
http://www.cs.ubc.ca/cgi-bin/ftp/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/type/Sic-Semper-Morituri
(these are the original versions)
Il ne faut etre plus royaliste que le roi [One must not be more royalist
than the king.]
French saying from the time of Louis XVI
Dimm'd Fereigners
I Hate Everyone Equally
August 8, 1947
Ritsuko waited with the Naval personnel. A dozen pallets awaited
loading aboard the carrier. The boxes strapped to the pallets were the last
of the NERV supplies to go aboard. Maya approached. Ritsuko knew Maya had
been briefed on what was in those boxes, and had privately voiced her
concerns.
'Sempai, the Children don't need . . . to be threatened. They love
you. They'll do their jobs because of that,' Maya had assured her, to her
own massive embarrassment, 'We don't need . . . those things.'
Ritsuko privately agreed, but, The politicians demand 'a layer of
security', she thought, Ridiculous. If they turn, it will be with all the
warning and force of an avalanche. Pathetic little tricks won't have any
effect. As if we'll get any warning to allow them to be used.
"They are in their rooms, uh, in his room. The Navy knows to leave the
corridor separating them empty, and they have the surrounding corridors
heavily patrolled," Maya said, staring at the boxes on the pallets as Ranma
might stare at a cage full of angry cats.
"Good, let them think they're putting something over on us," Ritsuko
said as the pallets were hoisted aboard. Once these are on the hanger deck,
the boxes will be removed from the pallets, and ordinance lifts will take
the boxes and what's inside them to the deepest, most protected magazines
aboard. They won't be unloaded until the kids are off the ship, she
thought. "They have to be aboard _this_ carrier," Ritsuko explained to
Maya, "Because the EVA is our only hope of containment, if they . . . leak."
"And who will they go after, or who will they go after _first_?" Maya
asked earnestly in Japanese, staring at Ritsuko, "Us, you, the kids?"
"When you get into a position of authority, you can't stay clean all
the time," Ritsuko offered in Japanese, shifting uncomfortably, at her
assistant holding the moral high ground, "Some choices just make you
corrupt."
"I'm not concerned about uncleanliness. I'm concerned about
stupidity," Maya continued quietly, though forcefully, in Japanese, "Both of
them killed the Brothers without their EVAs. Do you think their magic
studies will make them _more_ vulnerable? The only two people who'll have
little to fear from what's in these 'impenetrable' containers, are the two
people they're aimed at. And no one said these prisons were escape-proof,
just that they were impenetrable." Maya stepped away as if she expected the
escape any moment, but didn't want to trigger it by running away.
Ritsuko frowned and considered the wisdom of Maya's words as the crane
carried the pallets up and out of sight. But not out of mind, Ritsuko
admitted to herself.
----------------------------------------
The ball of light, brighter than any sunlight, appeared above Nabiki's
hand, held steady for a half-second. Nabiki's face lit with delight, then
the ball winked out. "Damn!" Nabiki said from the edge of Jeff's bed.
"Hardly," Jeff grumbled, propped himself up on the pillows again. "In
a few hours, you surpassed where I was at six months, and I was considered a
prodigy."
"Let me try again." Nabiki cupped her hands and concentrated.
"Don't," Jeff warned, "One spell, even one that disappeared like that,
uses up a lot of power, like lifting a heavy rock that you dropped before
you got it over your head, don't strain. Besides, I'm not ready to teach
you the next lesson."
"Why not?" Nabiki asked with a frown. She reluctantly lowered her
hands to her sides. I can do it again, she thought, literally itching to
try again, I know I can, I know . . . I think I know what went wrong!
"Because usually with apprentices, it takes a while to convince them
that you can manipulate energy outside your own body, and that the universe
can be nudged to do things logic says it can't."
"I already know those things," she said, forcing herself not to try
again, to summon the ball of light. It was exhilarating while it lasted,
she thought delightedly, Better than any high I've ever heard of.
"Yes, but during that time, you have a chance to talk about ethics,
duty, energy flow, patterns and of course school and the price."
"School and the price?" She stared at him. Ah, nomenclature and the
'in-group' jargon, she thought naughtily, I _like_ being part of an
`in-group.
"The school details methodology. Shamanism versus Alchemy versus
Cabalism, et cetera, how the power is generated and focused. The price is,
well, psychologically a human can't accept something for nothing," Raccoon
lectured, "So they put a limit on their actions, a payment for their powers.
The smart ones pick their price by focusing on some facet of the world or
their personality. _NEVER_ ask a mage their price, it is not only extremely
bad manners, it gives you a tremendous advantage to manipulate that mage,
and even the best and most good might see their way clear to - removing -
such a threat."
"So you won't tell me yours," Nabiki gulped, it was a statement. She
hammed up her cringe.
"Certainly not!" he replied imperiously, "You may have already figured
it out. Oh, unworldly apprentice." He paused to let her chuckle, then
continued, "Mine's obvious and actually almost impossible to manipulate, if
you look at it. Some people hide theirs like paranoids. And they can be
extreme or even silly. One mage I fought couldn't travel on Thursdays. I
teleported him to the top of a mountain, now he had the choice of walking
down, or dying of anoxia. Taking him on, after my two mile climb to reach
him, was child's play, even if the initial spell nearly killed me by
exhaustion. Stupid really."
You or him? Nabiki didn't ask aloud. "What type of school do you use?"
Nabiki asked carefully. She was trying not to wonder, How many people has
Raccoon already fought and killed in his life, in reality, not like the
dream of killing the Phoenixi, and not like killing the Brothers in
self-defense?
"That's allowed, it's even considered a good icebreaker or salutation,"
he said pleasantly, "I'm a Shamanistic Technomancer by Platonist Runic
Association."
Nabiki's jaw dropped to the floor and the rest of her nearly followed.
"Can you translate that into Japanese?"
"Only if you've had plenty of green tea, so you won't fall asleep," he
replied with a smirk.
"I'm too excited to sleep." Besides, after listening to my `family`
and teachers, she thought grimly, I'm boredom-proof!
"Everything has a perfect representation, and this representation is a
spirit, not a physical form. There's a 'Chair' for example, _THE_ a
'Chair'. Magical energy comes from negotiations with these spirits and is
manipulated through complicated, almost mathematical formulae, the use of
focuses is made through runes, representing the elements or concepts, which
are the machines that bring about the actions/items desired."
Nabiki's eyes rolled up in her head, which she shook to clear it. "You
lost me completely," Nabiki admitted.
"Basically create a machine/spell out of a sentence of two to four
words, then plug it into a particular power socket to make the spell go.
Wolf, Man, Tower creates a different effect if `plugged into` a spirit of
construction than say _the_ spirit of Cats."
"I can imagine. So you use runes/concepts to create the effect and use
specific powers to drive it."
"Exactly." He nodded.
Nabiki took a deep breath, so she could _politely_ say, "You realize
that makes absolutely no sense _at_all_, you can't run an electrical device
on steam pressure."
"Machines refers to simple machines, inclined planes, levers, etc.
Components of more complicated machinery. And yes you can, you just need a
converter."
"Oh," Nabiki thought, she paused and thought hard, finally she shook
her head, "You still lost me."
"That's why I have to take time to develop your school, mine is _so_
easy and obvious, _to_me_. Yours may be different." He sighed, considered.
"I hope it isn't too different, or you'll very soon need a different
teacher. Adam wasn't joking when he talked about commerce. His magic rides
the field of needs and supplies, and he gets his power as a consequence of
that 'engine.' Don't ask me, I understand commerce, I don't understand his
school."
"When do I get to blast people?" Nabiki asked sardonically, closing one
eye and pointing at a far wall.
"Safest place is where you're aiming," he muttered, then grinned
broadly as she glared at him, "Right now, if you don't mind getting
swallowed by the blast," Jeff smirked.
"Oh, I think I'll take it a bit slower," she said as she `holstered`
her finger, then added more quietly, "And practice aiming." She paused,
"Actually, healing is what I'm really interested in. We seem to get hurt so
often, all of us." She seemed embarrassed by the admission.
"Conventional wisdom is that a combat mage cannot develop the empathy
necessary to heal. There is a fundamental flaw I discovered. At least for
`good` mages."
"They can be empathetic?" she offered, trying to find the answer.
Think like a mage, she told herself.
He shook his head. "Not generally." He stared at her, willing her to
solve the riddle.
"You have to be in touch with yourself, so you can heal yourself." She
worked out from the healing she'd seen him do.
"And?" he asked expectantly.
"And, if being wounded is a characteristic, you can transfer it," she
replied happily, smiling at her solution. Not bad, she thought, Then why is
he frowning?
"Not my way of thinking, but it does give an insight into yours."
"Excuse me?" she asked in confusion.
"For me, I see things as energy and process. Matter is merely
potential energy. Gold and lead are merely different forms of
electromagnetic energy." His hands moved through the air in patterns that
made no sense to Nabiki. "Coal and diamonds are a matter of arrangement. A
chair works because of interatomic repulsive forces and organizational
structures that exist." He pointed at her. "You probably think, 'Being
able to sit on it is one of the things that _make_ it a chair.'"
"That's right, what's wrong with thinking like that?" she asked, now
completely confused, trying to hold onto the few coherent thoughts she had.
"Nothing, nothing." Jeff covered his head with the blankets and
cowered, when Nabiki chuckled and yanked down the blankets, he uncoiled,
"Magic is about changing the universe, however you conceptualize things to
let you, well, grab the Universe's undivided attention, and . . . squeeze."
Nabiki laughed. I'm glad none of Ranma's admirers know that trick, she
thought.
"Anyway, I think I can adapt my teaching technique to get you started
along the way. The methods aren't too very different, I believe in
characteristics, but only as an external manifestation not as intrinsic
state properties."
"You lost me again." Nabiki's head was spinning. I've got a sneaking
suspicion that he's attempting to scare me out of trying to learn this, she
thought, Except I know how dangerous the life I'm asking to be part of is.
The disappearances at night, the strange behavior, let alone what would
happen if Ikari-chan caught either of us. She steadied her thoughts.
Still, I need to be part of this, to protect myself and the others. That
was the mission I was given . . . and I now fully accept it.
"I'll need to give you a primer on the nomenclature and slang of your
new business."
'Your new business', she thought and kept the smile from her face. I
saw him take on bringing Ranma up to speed in school, and teaching Asuka the
kanji she needed to do well, if he's going to show the same drive in
teaching me . . . Something occurred to her. "Are you going to help
Asuka?" And not just to get me out of the way, she thought.
"When I can slip in and do it, and slip out." He sighed sadly. "Which
means when we get back to Tokyo. Ritsuko and Maya can keep a secret.
However, I don't want to explain what I can do. I suspect the `extraction`
of that knowledge, wouldn't be pleasant. Please remember that." He stared
at her, the threat unspoken.
"If you've been trying to frighten and confuse me, it's working. If
you're trying to scare me out of training with you . . . that hasn't worked
yet."
"Fair enough. Now go rest, I need to rest and think."
"Okay." She smiled. "I'll - " Nabiki wrinkled her nose as if the
entire room suddenly smelled bad, she noticed Raccoon had the same reaction.
"What was . . . ?" her voice drifted off, as memories that were not
hers gave her the answer to her unfinished question. "That was what I'm
thinking it was, right?" She shuddered at the thought of knowing all these
things, without having learned them.
"Yep," Raccoon answered, shaking his head from the stench that wasn't
actually a smell, "A whole passel of them. Don't worry. There are simple
enough spells and wards to deal with them."
"Then why bring them aboard why would Ritsuko _allow_ them aboard, she
has to know . . . assuming they didn't _sneak_ aboard." Nabiki was already
developing stratagems. "Our presence can't have a been a . . . those things
are meant to be used on _us_?_" Nabiki shouted the last, her face contorting
in fury.
"As was the powder I developed," Raccoon told her calmly, "Fear comes
from a perception of inferiority. If you don't feel inferior, you're less
likely to be afraid."
"But . . . what have we done to make them . . . ?" Nabiki's voice
drifted off as her head drooped, "Why? Is that why they beat up Asuka, they
were afraid?"
"No. The ones who gave the _orders_, they were the ones who were - are
afraid. Frankly, _now_ they have a reason to be afraid. They did something
stupid, out of fear." She saw the swiftly hidden rage that matched her own.
"You've got a plan," she realized, "About those . . . things, not
Asuka's attackers."
"I've got a plan for both, but those things are first. Nobody told us
they were allowed on board, right? Do you think they'll go after us first
if they get out?" He smiled. "Hardly. They represent a serious threat to
this ship and its crew, it's our _duty_ to protect them."
"They don't actually believe they're inanimate . . . do they? Ritsuko
would have set them straight," she asked incredulously, "Yes . . . they do,
don't they? They didn't listen. They trust they can control those things?
When the Elder Things tried and failed?" She stopped, blinked. "I always
wanted to know things others didn't, or couldn't figure out," she said
sadly, shaking her head, "Now I know . . . so much. And I don't want to
know _any_ of it."
Raccoon put his .45 auto on the bed next to her. "That's the only
cure." He mimed blowing his brains out. "The others went through it, we
survived. You - will - survive." He collected the pistol, it disappeared
behind him. "Those people who attacked Langley were trusted," Raccoon told
her, "Like I said, there are ways of dealing with things like that. And
even if they know those things are alive, as brutal and clumsy as they are,
they are also highly intelligent. Most people don't think of them that
way."
"I don't want to know." Nabiki shook her head. What is down below is
insanity, she thought, But I couldn't be so cavalier about slaughtering
them, the Brothers had hurt me, I was fighting back.
"I'll make sure I don't get caught," Raccoon assured her with a smile.
"As if _that_ matters," she replied. Idiots, she thought, trying to
banish the crawly feeling that they were even on the same ship with them,
They intend to use those things on me and the other Children. He won't say
it, but he's going to destroy them all. Probably before we get out of
Territorial waters. What kind of idiots would schedule this transfer the
_day_ Asuka gets hit? Didn't they think we'd _notice_?_
"Okay, let's get back to magic," Raccoon suggested.
Something dawned on Nabiki, kicked out all her preconceptions and
practically rapped on her brain. "Now I know why Ranma's curse doesn't work
around you!" she shouted at him, poking him in the forehead, despite the
agony in her wrists, "You neutralize it. You _fink_!_ You've had me
believing that you didn't believe in the curse!" Nabiki raised her fists to
pummel him, then seemed to acknowledge the pain.
She mastered her brief anger, made worse by her `teacher's` knowing
smirk. "Why not cure it completely?" she demanded, grimacing from the
stinging reminder she wasn't completely healed yet.
Raccoon cocked his head while staring at her. "For who? Ranma or
Ranko?" Raccoon asked, "But that's all speculation on your part, I can
neither confirm nor deny that."
She stood up and hobbled around the room. I could beat him senseless,
she thought angrily, But it really _would_ hurt me more than it would hurt
him. But I have his `price` worked out, at least parts of it: he has to fix
things. Since he keeps insisting Ranma and Ranko aren't the same, he'd
never destroy Ranko to fix Ranma, she stopped, stunned at the next thought,
Or kill Ranma to `fix` Ranko. She flopped down on the other bunk in the
room and took time to absorb that. Okay, so Ranma's in no danger from that
... . . or anyone else who tried it. Raccoon would kill them before they
succeeded, she realized, But then . . . why does he keep saying Ranma and
Ranko aren't the same person, they are . . . aren't they? She let her head
spin from that for a bit.
Okay, change the subject, she considered why and how her spell had
failed, That will be the first question I ask when we start training again.
Raccoon pulled a few pieces of cardboard and a pen from his bedside
drawer. "Let's deal with the representations of things. Mnemonics or
symbols, it depends on how you look at it," he said, "But it will get you in
the habit of thinking systematically about your interpretation of magic."
She nodded, but stayed where she was.
----------------------------------------
What Isn't Part Of Ourselves Doesn't Disturb Us
Misato watched Tomiyo and Shinji leave the NERV Med Center together.
Shinji didn't even react to her friendly goodbye. He just waved and excused
himself, she thought, He didn't even apologize, the world must be ending.
And why didn't anyone _tell_me?!_ She watched them walk away in silence, a
pair of out-of-uniform soldiers in a two-man covering formation following at
a discreet distance. Rei and Ranma left together and they were under heavy
guard as well, Misato thought, And no one told me they were here either!
I am going to find out what's going on here! she thought as she marched
into the offices of the NERV Bodyguard division. She was amazed that she
saw more clerks, than rough men, and even those were moving mail bags and
boxes of files. The man at the central desk looked _extremely_ worried.
"Major," one rather mousey looking man with thick glasses hailed her,
as he stepped out of his office. He walked around several bags of mail and
packages, and towards her.
"What is going on here?" She looked around what looked more like a
mailroom than a security office.
"We're doing our job," the man said, looking around nervously at the
bags, boxes and the reports about them, "It's usually much neater than this,
but with the attack . . . "
"This is supposed to be the Bodyguard division!" she said angrily.
"The Childrens' actual guards are under the Intelligence department,"
the man explained, "We do do our best to keep them safe. We examine the
places they go, before they get there. We check out the people they meet.
We do have an enforcement division, but we try to keep threats well away
from the Children." The man seemed to be gaining some confidence. "I dare
say, the overall threat to the Children is bigger than you know."
Misato drew herself up to her full height and she told the man, now
easily a head shorter than she was, "Show me."
Misato was horrified to learn of the volume of threats, death and
otherwise, that the Children received. Many were just harmless nuts, some
were legitimately life-threatening, some were graphically sexual in nature.
The boys _and_ the girls got those, Misato noted, Frightening.
"Then there were the ones dealing with race. Some against the Japanese
for 'dealing with gaijin', others against the gaijin for their presence and
pollution of Japan, others against Miss Langley and Mister Davis for working
with the Japanese," the man told her as he showed examples of each type, and
sacks of further items. "We've been going back over those, as you can
guess."
Misato dug through some of the sacks to see for herself. It seems Rei
gets some as gaijin and as a Japanese, Misato noted, Hopefully, they are all
this stupid . . . and harmless.
"Most of these we can safely investigate and ignore," the man
explained, "Sometimes it's just people who've lost friends, family or
property, we don't report it because it's like complaining to city hall, we
do censor their complaints and forward them to the correct agencies, and
send along a letter of condolence to the victim. We don't make a big deal
about it, because we'd wind up annihilating half the population of Tokyo,"
the Security man told her, "By your orders or Commander Ikari's." The man
smiled.
Misato nodded at the good-natured jibe, "How did yesterday happen?"
The man rubbed his head. "We wish we could say the attackers were
possessed, but we haven't been able to find the attackers. And we keep
being told 'it isn't our job' by Commander Ikari, he believes it is a
diversion of our attention. Perhaps he's right, it would be an appropriate
time to make an attack, with everyone stretched so thin. So we've redoubled
our efforts. It isn't much," the man admitted, "But there is some truth to
it. We received a few alarming items, nothing we haven't seen before, but
never so many in one day." The man sighed, wiped his glasses. "There's
also a few rumors floating around, those we _did_ forward to the proper
authorities, and a few other sources." He lost some confidence at Misato's
intense stare. "Let's just say Major, that patriotism and a broad
understanding of self-preservation, may be found in some rather - unusual -
places. Places it would not be safe for either of us, even in broad
daylight."
"And if I ask, you'll suddenly develop memory problems?" she asked with
her hands on her hips.
"No, Major, I honestly don't know, that isn't my job. I'm good at
making a picture out of the little bits. Fortunately for all of us, most of
these - " He indicated the mailbags. " - are just separate little bits.
The attack, we don't have enough bits, but I can tell it's part of a much
larger picture." He stopped and scratched his head. "Or several pictures,
that's what's been bothering me about it so much."
The man considered, then continued, "We have found out that all those
related to the attackers remember the hostility they felt about 'Kids from
outside' doing what they were doing, what Japanese could clearly do. Like I
said, we do have an investigative arm. They related that it was too subtle
to be considered a threat, and the people were vetted. Somebody in
Intelligence made a mistake. Major, on another subject, the Children have
begun displaying stranger behaviors, Security is having a harder time
classifying `normal` behaviors for the pilots. The Children outran their
security, how Asuka's security was avoided, hasn't been confirmed. Asuka
Langley rarely even tries to evade her security troops, she treats them as a
constant reality. Probably from her time as a British prisoner. Why the
Security doesn't know why their people on site didn't call for ambulances
for Langley, or reinforcements or transport for the other pilots, is still
being investigated, by us and by them. There was no warning of this on our
end, Major. No manifesto in the mail, no specific threats, and according to
the families, no changes in the behavior of the attackers. If I was
paranoid, I'd say they got their marching orders and just moved out. I also
want to say again, this is _not_ a little bit, but part of a very much
larger picture. And those odd places to find patriotism, they are nearly as
up in arms about this as you are."
"What do you do with the more . . . innocuous letters and such?" Misato
asked.
"The fan mail?" The man smiled and laughed. "We burn it, Commander's
orders. It's not like they need it or anything. They've got orders, that
should be enough. The gifts we give to various charities, anonymously of
course. We don't want the kids getting too big for their britches."
Misato nodded. "Agreed." Very good, she thought.
----------------------------------------
Admiral Simson looked over the people in the conference room. General
Tomlinson, Captain Ramsey, the psychiatrist Dr. Samuels, and Commander
Ikari. Fuyutsuki and Stedman can take the helm for a while, he thought.
"What do we know?"
"There was no warning." Unusually, Ikari took the lead. "Our
interrogations under truth serum, and not, were remarkably similar. The
families of those who carried out the attack were fully vetted by your
people and ours. They had no clue, they suspected nothing."
"Have we located them?" Simson asked, glancing from one face to
another.
"No," Ramsey supplied, "They seem to have disappeared off the face of
the planet. We have people looking."
Meaning he's got the cults out looking, Simson realized, God help the
attackers if Langley's or Davis's people get them first. Although with
Ayanami's behavior, her people might handle them pretty roughly too.
"We need more security, people who can be trusted," Ikari said.
He seems angry, Simson thought, But he's also a good actor. With
Ramsey's people, we have people we can trust. _You_ want more subordinates.
"Frankly, that would solve another problem," Tomlinson piped up, "I
might be facing a mutiny, if we don't beef up security."
"Your wife giving you as much trouble as mine?" Dr. Samuels asked,
"After Miss Ayanami's party crashing, I got a reception last night that
would scare off an Angel."
"That too, and not just me," Tomlinson admitted, "The SP's and MP's are
in an uproar. The rest we can calm down by pointing out they don't have the
training. Even if they were civilian cops. But the MP's and SP's know
different. They're all just itching to close and destroy whoever did this.
If we don't order 'alive', we'll be able to bury all the attackers in a
single thimble."
"Some of them may have contacts with people who wouldn't speak to . . .
legitimate authorities. I was a sergeant myself once," Ikari suggested,
gazing at the others over his clasped hands.
"There are other options," Tomlinson said piously.
Okay, Ikari, you slipped yourself ahead, Simson thought, Time to give
you a little task. He nodded to Dr. Samuels.
"Commander," Dr. Samuels began, "You might want to be aware of the
details of the conversation that occurred last night."
----------------------------------------
Nabiki watched the sailors and Marines, primarily Bennington veterans,
deliberately sitting at the adjacent mess tables, surrounding the almost
empty one. They scanned the area around them as they sat and ate dinner,
exuding an air of protective malevolence. As I am, she thought, Somehow the
people around us are more defense and less audience than they were on the
Bennington. Although I shouldn't look just for threats, there won't be any,
for me anyway. It makes me more angry than if _all_ of us were targets
equally.
She was happy to see Jeff sitting at his usual place at `their` table.
Except he keeps glancing at the exits with that Rei-like stare, she thought,
And the unconscious 'no-man's-land' surrounding him, no one is coming within
a meter of him. She deliberately took `her seat` at the mess table next to
him, "You okay?"
"No, thank you for asking though." He continued to glance about.
I should start stealing food off his tray, she thought, Naw. She
grabbed his cheeks and turned his head to face her and stared at his face.
I remember the painting of 'The Thousand Yard Stare,' she thought as she
released him, I never expected to see it in real life, and especially not on
him. She spotted Ritsuko and Maya approaching. She waved to them, noted
the direct path to the table that cleared for them. Everybody wants to see
the show, Nabiki thought, And they want the maximum density of bodies
between us and any threat. She considered her guilt at the realization, I
still don't think I deserve it, but all these veterans do. Very strange.
There's also another undercurrent here, but I can't tell what it is.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly in English.
"That won't help." He picked at his food. "No one has answers, so
there aren't solutions. It's all symptoms," he said flatly.
"You aren't alone in this," she told him. And isn't _that_ reassuring?
she thought sarcastically.
Ritsuko and Maya sat at the table. "You could have asked for someone
to help you," Ritsuko noted Nabiki's crutches.
"I wanted to actually _do_ something myself," she groused. She moodily
stared at the food. "I'm getting used to this stuff," she lamented, "Will I
forget pickled plums and miso? Yakisoba and Oko - okono - pizza-ish thing,
'as-you-like-it'."
"Okonomiyaki," Maya laughed at that. "So how did the lessons go?"
"Well enough," Raccoon said, frowned at Nabiki, "I just have to worry
about her going too far and too fast." He switched to Japanese, "And
Langley wasn't alone either." There was none of the usual fire in his eyes,
from anger or cunning. "They didn't help her. _The_pilots_ had to rescue
her. Somebody should have prevented it." He returned to staring at his
food, picking at it.
Nabiki returned to her meal, considering. He still blames himself, but
how do I, or anyone, convince him it wasn't his fault? "We'll have to talk
to our people . . . somehow, they can go over the reports, see if they saw
this coming, see how we missed it."
He nodded.
Well, at least that's something, Nabiki thought, How do I carry it out?
"So how soon do we sail?" Nabiki asked.
----------------------------------------
"Some time tomorrow," Ritsuko said. Dinner is going to be a maudlin
affair, Ritsuko thought, They can wire their various spies and informants to
interrogate and re-task them. But it's make-work until we can get back to
Tokyo. I hope things work out tonight, they _both_ need it. She was
disgusted that the `professionals` couldn't manage their tasks and the
`kids` would have to take up the slack. That they can do it, she thought,
And that they _have_ to.
At least Ranma and the others did a good job, she thought, I sent a
demand for information, and got a report on what Rei and Ranma did, and that
Shinji's back and also looking out for Asuka. I'm going to hold onto that
information, until I can get more of it. Ranma's staying close to Rei,
which is good news, and Rei seems to tolerate his/her presence, at the
moment, which is even better. Ranma staying as a she is something else to
look into. While Shinji has been orbiting a little further out and seems to
be asking the other students about the events of the previous day, with
Toji, Hikari and Kensuke backing him up and supporting him. Quite a little
nest of spies. Although it hardly sounds like Shinji, perhaps a lot has
changed.
"The students are doing something like that," Ritsuko said, "None of
them like the idea of an attack on a pilot. Mr. Suzuhara said, 'Even Sour
Kraut didn't deserve that.'"
Ritsuko watched Nabiki wince at that. But Jeff didn't react to it, she
thought sadly.
Neither Jeff nor Nabiki spoke for the rest of dinner, despite Ritsuko's
and Maya's efforts to strike up a conversation. Unfortunately none of the
reports add anything to the picture that has already been drawn, Ritsuko
thought, They have to be refining the intelligence reports. Going over
previous reports to find a thread to warn of a repetition of the first
attack. I need to make a few notes, and take them to the Navy here. It
seems to lead nowhere. I have to wonder if we are missing something, or
being deliberately misled.
----------------------------------------
Misato spent the next hours learning about the threats to the Children,
that had nothing to do with `Angels`, the mythos or mad cultists. She got
angrier and angrier as the U.S. Navy/Marines' security forces and _their_
investigations into these threats, added to the reading from NERV Bodyguard
division. And I never heard a word about any of this before today, she
thought angrily.
Home-grown doomsday cults, people for whom the war had never ended,
sexual predators, mad ramblings and manifestos, she thought as she sat back
and sipped the tea she'd been served, trying to prevent a massive headache
from breaking out, Even a few nuts who worshiped the _pilots_. And the
intimations that Nabiki, Raccoon and Rei have hunted down threats from
mythos monsters, cultists and other assassins. I could hardly credit those,
until I read the New Mexico reports. Now I'm not sure.
By the end of the day, Misato was thoroughly angry and thoroughly
shaken. I want a beer or five, she thought as she walked out, I also want a
target.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki watched the medic putting the finishing touches on the casts on
her forearms, they'd already changed the cast on her leg. I guess they
couldn't get rid of the smell, she thought. "I thought gloves weren't
necessary," Nabiki joked, a WAVE officer stood by with a dress, and needle
and thread to sew her into it.
The medic smiled. "Sorry, ma'am, this is Dr. Akagi's orders. She
doesn't want you straining anything."
"I'm not fragile porcelain, sailor," she said, the flint arrowhead
still hung around her neck, still reminded her of the battle, and its
effects. And that other soldiers considered her a soldier.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, still smirking slightly.
Why do I think everybody is in on the joke, except me, she asked
herself, I don't _like_ being out of the loop. "Is Pilot Davis going to
jump out of a cake or something? And they don't want me to strangle him?"
"I wouldn't know, ma'am," the medic replied as he checked his work.
Okay, so if it isn't Raccoon, maybe it's Ritsuko. Dinner with the
Admiral and the Captains of the vessels escorting and accompanying us, but I
didn't get sewn into Raccoon's kimono, my good clothes were sufficient, she
considered the problem.
"The plaster seems dry enough," the medic told her, and the WAVE
officer. He left Nabiki alone with the dress and the WAVE officer.
"Why, thank you, sir," Nabiki said as sweetly as she could, causing the
young man to stammer and nearly fall against the bulkhead as he left. How
are they going to get me, and especially this wheelchair, wherever I'm
going? she wondered.
"Let's get you dressed," the WAVE said.
"And if I give you the trouble I gave him," she said, as she pulled
herself to her feet, "You'll stick me."
"I'd never do that," the WAVE said as she helped Nabiki dress. Nabiki
kept silent until the woman was done, fuming all the while.
Outside, there was a pair of sailors, in undress uniforms, waiting to
carefully carry her and her wheelchair through the first hatchway, and
another pair to receive her, and another two pairs at the next hatchway, and
the next, and the next. Nabiki couldn't shake a cold feeling in the pit of
her stomach about this huge expenditure of manpower, just to get her
wherever she was going. Unless they're afraid I'll run away. Not like they
could give me my crutches and let me totter around, they'd still catch me
and drag me to this secret, she thought in a growing fury, No, I have to be
carried around like a glass doll. I don't mind solicitude, but . . . She
sighed and silently collected her thoughts, and put her anger aside. I
still can't figure what I have done that's so special. I made a pest of
myself until they let me get back in the fight, and it wasn't much of a
fight. All I did was step on something. "What's all that noise?" she
asked.
'I'm sure I wouldn't know ma'am,' kept coming back as the answer, as
she moved closer. Nabiki was getting a little cross by everyone being in on
the joke except her. Okay, _why_ are they keeping it from me? she wondered
----------------------------------------
A Change of Nuisances
At the end of the school day, the pilots were cleaning the room, to
make up for leaving the day before. Shinji glanced around at the other
pilots and their guards.
"Ayanami-san, do you come back to Sammi's?" Shinji asked carefully,
trying to sound nonchalant. I'm equally afraid she'll say 'yes' or say
'no', he thought, But I am glad today is over. I'm getting tired of the
questions from the others. I've changed, more than the first Angel I killed
changed me. I don't think they'd ever understand. I don't want to talk
about it with someone who'd never understand.
"I am not sure," Ayanami-san admitted, "I have never been able to sleep
comfortably under another roof."
"Come on, it'll be fun!" Saotome-san said, her red hair swishing as she
shook her head, "You are allowed to have fun."
"No, you are still breathing," Ayanami-san said, staring at Saotome-san
and advancing, "Fun is denied me."
Saotome-san shivered and retreated at Ayanami-san's statement. Then
Ayanami-san gave a ghost of a smile.
"You scared me so bad!" Saotome-san shouted at her.
"Yes, it was intentional," Ayanami-san said, seemingly very pleased
with herself, "You said practice was required."
Saotome-san seemed extremely relieved, frustrated and confused in equal
measure.
I miss this, Shinji thought, felt himself smiling, They talk one way,
and act another. Unlike the `adults` who smile and say nothing, and act
like we can't figure out what they're doing from their actions.
"We should go to Misato-san's apartment," Shinji commented, "I don't
have fresh clothes, and you don't either, other than what Saotome-san got
when she picked up your clothes."
" 'She'?" Saotome-san complained, "I'm a - "
"Girl," Ayanami-san interrupted, smiled as Saotome-san fumed.
"The way you two fight," Toji said, as he stuck his head in the room,
"It's like you're an old married couple." He pulled back to the safety of
the hall, or so he thought.
Saotome-san grabbed up a piece of chalk and threw it at the door frame,
it hit and bounced off. Toji's 'ouch' from the hall brought a smile to her
face.
As the job neared completion, several NERV Security troopers arrived,
not plain-clothes, but uniformed combat troops. No sidearms were in
evidence, their rifles were slung, and the pins of their grenades taped
down, but that didn't mean anything.
"Congratulations Shinji-sama," Sammi told them, "Now we're in trouble."
Saotome-san smiled at the joke, and Shinji's shocked expression.
"I will intervene on your behalf," Ayanami-san said.
"What if he's drawn and quartered?" Juri asked.
Ayanami considered deeply for a moment. "That would involve pieces of
eight," she said, "I cannot make a connection beyond that."
Okay . . . he thought.
"Well, at least now we don't have to wonder where we're going after
class," Saotome-san commented.
All three pilots were taken to Misato-san's apartment to get a week's
clothes for Shinji, both girls helped him pack his clothes up. Saotome-san
and Shinji then helped Ayanami-san pack in her apartment, she had a more
limited selection.
"We've got to buy you two some clothes," Sammi teased.
"Like I'd buy a suit off the rack," Saotome-san disdained her
suggestion, sounding and looking like Raccoon while he did it.
Sammi chuckled at that.
------------------------------
Asuka stared listlessly at the ceiling, wondering about her present and
her future, whether she wanted to even _be_ here anymore.
Asuka sits alone in her bed, she thought, I _hate_ sitting, I
_hate_waiting_, I _hate_ hiding, so why am I sitting here, waiting, hiding
from what's going on outside? Wondergirl was right, I should have gone, but
... . . she mentioned it and it was like all the life drained out of me and
the rest of the world. I wasn't even angry at Horseface, I wasn't happy
that the two robots got their favorite people back. I just didn't care
anymore, it was too hard to feel or do anything. She smirked for an
instant. I bet if I'd told Wondergirl I should, but I didn't feel like it,
she would have dragged me there like a doll . . . maybe that's why I
_didn't_ say it, she thought, feeling a little better, but it instantly
faded, Having _Major_ Katsuragi come walking in, stare at me and walk out as
if she were going to bust a gut laughing if she didn't leave, yes. It makes
me feel sooo much better. Fine, some of your people finally decided to
hammer this nail down, and it stuck. "I hope you go drink yourself to death
in celebration," Asuka muttered, "You libertine beer-hound."
"I do not drink," came a quiet voice.
Asuka sat up in shock, staring at Wondergirl, who was staring back at
her. Asuka continued looking at Wondergirl, and doing what she hated,
waiting.
"Why don't you take a picture, Wondergirl, it will last longer?" Asuka
finally said.
Wondergirl cocked her head in confusion. "I have no camera."
Wondergirl waited for a while before adding, "There were no events worth
mentioning in school today. Although Tomoe-san did suggest giving the
Fourth your homework to do. Since you already possess a college diploma,
and may not be returning to school, I saw no reason not to follow her
suggestion."
"You hate Horseface that much?" Asuka asked.
"No, but I was curious, at what interval would the Fourth realize the
assignments were duplicates? 'A Martial Artist must be ready for anything',
however, our battles require thought. You will be needed."
"Thank you." Asuka watched Wondergirl turn and leave after giving her
`report`, and she had an odd thought, I don't _want_ her to leave. I felt
safe again when she was here. Bored, but safe.
------------------------------
Rei considered Asuka, considered the worried look she given her when
she realized Rei was there. I am made uncomfortable, Rei thought, I prefer
when she acts as she typically acts. Even if it is irritating, it is also
comforting.
She walked through the corridors, almost randomly, trying to decide on
her next course of action. Mrs. Simson said something about 'taking someone
out of themselves', she considered the problem, I thought I had accomplished
that yesterday. Preparations were lengthy, and to risk that again would be
unacceptable. I confused and irritated her until she reacted, but like
Nabiki-kun, the solution was temporary. I should have taken that experience
into account. Only repeated procedures returned Nabiki-kun to her normal
operational patterns, perhaps it is time to take her out of herself in a
different direction . . . in a _specific_ direction.
She spotted the Commander coming up the steps with Admiral Simson a
step behind him. "I believe the problem is continuing."
"An attack en echelon," Admiral Simson told her, the Commander nodded,
"Please continue with your plans." Again the Commander nodded.
"It will not reduce my efficiency," she assured the Commander.
"I am certain it will not," the Commander told her as they parted.
She smiled. I have the Commander's blessing on any action that does
not compromise my readiness, she thought, then shivered, There are too many
options, too many choices.
She stopped, stood and concentrated, seeking the stillness the rage had
showed her _was_ possible. Focus on _one_ thing, she told herself, As
Roku-kun said, define the problem. Separate all into those that will match
the needs of the true problem, and discard all that will not. She did that
as she stood, finding a odd calm in the operation of dismantling solutions
to see if their parts fit the `holes` available for them. I have one, she
thought and began running home.
------------------------------
Asuka was again lying on her bed, considering her future. I could
volunteer to go master Unit 03, at least then I'll be in Europe, doing
something useful. There are rumblings that something's going on out there.
The Brits aren't half bad, even their cooking. No more rice and thin,
noodle soup, oh how will I survive? she thought sarcastically.
The door opened and she sat up to face ole' Stoneface entering.
"Commander?" she tried to ramp down her automatic sarcasm. Maybe he's here
to . . . apologize, explain, reassure . . . stranger things have happened
today. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She nearly choked on the last
word.
"If you are not prepared to return to school tomorrow, as Pilot Ayanami
as opined." He stood there, staring at her. "We will schedule a series of
sync tests tomorrow."
"Commander . . . I . . . " she said. I won't admit weakness, not to
_him_!_ she thought furiously, trying to meet his gaze.
"Yes, the attack," ole' Stoneface said dismissively, pushing his
glasses up on his face, "That is the exact factor which we require data on.
The effect of emotional trauma on sync ratios," he said coldly.
Asuka felt her fury and bile rising as he turned to leave.
"Please do not allow yourself to be cheered up before tomorrow, it will
throw off our results." He closed the door as he left.
----------------------------------------
Gendo barely managed to get the door closed and locked before something
non-breakable ricocheted off the door, an instant later Miss Langley was
rattling the door to get out.
"Sync ratio!" she shouted, from behind the `soundproof` door, "I'll
give you a sync ratio."
He walked placidly away, down the corridor, seemingly oblivious to the
string of curses in six languages he recognized, and several he didn't.
Miss Langley covered his sexual and eating habits, similarities and
differences to his son, speculations on his parentage, even recommendations
that could best be defined as extreme Tantric yoga. The staff avoided the
corridor as he gazed at them sternly. Most retreated rather than rush to
either console or quiet Miss Langley.
Some 10 meters down the corridor, he spotted Admiral Simson sitting in
a chair in a cross corridor.
"Well?" the American asked as he stood.
"You were correct," Gendo admitted reluctantly, "The Pilots _were_ able
to find a solution I had not considered."
"Because it is counterintuitive, I know. You _should_ give Miss
Ayanami a 'well done', both for figuring it out, and suggesting it," Simson
replied as he fell in beside, and half a step behind, Gendo, preserving
Gendo's illusion of supremacy.
Making it _seem_ he is subservient to me, he thought, the insults from
Miss Langley still ringing down the corridor.
"Now do you understand my plan for cycling the pilots. They don't know
a lot of things, so they can bring a different insight. They may even make
things work that previously were unworkable."
Because they _are_ unworkable for humans, Gendo thought. "They would
lack discipline," Gendo countered smoothly as they walked.
"That is something _we'll_ have to provide. There will come a time
soon, when the only force that will be able to discipline them is themselves
or each other. We'll have to have their respect, and dare I say it, love,
before that point is reached. Powerful and knowledgeable as they will
become, they are still our creations, our children."
"Agreed," Gendo said, "You also suggested that we should make an effort
to provide . . . disinformation to the enemy."
"What I said was '_you_ should try to be less predictable'. Whatever
you're cooking up, if I've figured out most of it, someone else could."
Gendo hid his astonishment and squelched an immediate denial. He
couldn't know! he thought, But maybe he _does_ know about SEELE's plans.
And that's what he's referring to. He tried to retain his calm facade. "I
am not sure what you mean," he said to cover himself.
----------------------------------------
Tiny hands clasped and unclasped as the beady eyes watched the two
figures from the air vent, until they were out of sight. The Rat-Thing
considered the best way to return to its masters, the information on Langley
was important, these additional revelations would prove critical.
These musings were cut short as something it hadn't detected, broke its
neck and took its corpse off back down the air duct for a more private
lunch.
---------------------------------------------------------
Rei walked out of her bathroom, drying her hair. The towel will have
to be disposed of, she thought as she spotted Shinji-kun waiting in her
apartment.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see anything! I mean . . . I . . . did - "
he stammered as she approached.
She put her hand over his mouth and looked into his eyes. "Yes. You
did not see anything," she warned him, "Until I reveal the truth to Mein
Grossfeldmarschall." She realized he was not staring at her naked body, but
her hair.
"I don't understand."
"Mein Grossfeldmarschall has always been very proud of her hair. Now
it is gone. Now she will have a problem to solve."
"That isn't something you can . . . solve," Shinji-kun said to her, his
eyes continuing to drift upward.
"But she must _try_," Rei told him. She saw slow realization and a
smile dawn on his face. She felt her heart soar, both that he understood
and appreciated her plan, and that he was with her again. "Your extended
departure . . . was it my doing?"
"No, no Rei-san," Shinji-kun admitted, "I had to discover a few things
... . . about myself, about the other pilots, about the pilots we don't know
about."
"There is much we have not been told," Rei admitted.
"There are things my father doesn't know. Maybe he can't understand
some of the things, because _no_ human can understand them. But we'll need
to. Some things he got wrong, and I don't know why he kept the truth about
us from me."
"I agree. We can discuss this later, I have a mission to complete."
"A mission? You aren't going out naked? Are you?"
Rei considered if nudity would increase her effectiveness. "No, I will
wear clothing." She turned to get her undergarments and a clean uniform.
She heard Shinji-kun leaving hurriedly and wondered about it. Should I wear
another towel? she wondered, Perhaps. Raccoon talked about maximum shock
effect, as did Mein Grossfeldmarschall. It might be useful to employ their
advice.
------------------------------
Hiro walked into Misato's apartment through the open door. You'd think
security would be keeping a closer look, not a more distant one, he thought,
No wonder everybody calls them FUBENS, Fouled Up Beyond Even NERV Standards,
it fits perfectly. "Misa-chan!" he called as he entered. In case she isn't
as unconcerned about security as Security is, he thought.
Penpen poked his head around the corner, and gave Hiro a once over
before withdrawing. Hiro removed his shoes and followed the odd bird.
Inside, he found some food burning on the stove, and the rest of the
place looked like a tornado had been trying to neaten it up. Hiro shut off
the stove and covered the pans before the contents could be used as smudge
pots.
"Hi, good to see you." Misato smiled as she carried a bag of trash
past him and put it in the hall to be taken out later.
"Shouldn't you be packing instead of cleaning?" he asked. Getting the
kids in here to clean this mess up would probably be a good idea, for them
and her, he thought, Give them something constructive to do. And to make
this place livable again.
"Packing what?" She stopped. He couldn't help noticing, T-shirt,
shorts and dirt were all she was wearing.
She isn't wearing her necklace, he noted. "Shinji's and yours, to head
over to Krasnyzamok's place," he replied, enjoying the show.
"Oh, they're coming here," she replied quizzically.
"Why?" he asked, "This place is smaller, not to mention not as well
constructed." It also only has one bathroom instead of three or more, he
thought, With the pilots and a pack of adults, that matters nearly as much.
"This is Shinji's home," Misato said.
But not Langley's, she _hates_ this place, and isn't fond of you
either, he didn't say. "But he's only one," Hiro said carefully, "Rei was
there when the others were out. Ranma's staying there with Akagi gone.
Asuka's home is there."
"I think Shinji will want to be home after all this time," Misato told
him.
"He'd rather be where he can look after Asuka," he explained, trying to
persuade. Like he's obviously been looking after _you_!_ he thought.
"Where _he_ can look after Asuka?" Misato asked, smirked, "I think Rei
would be jealous. I didn't think he'd move that fast."
Hiro censored his first reaction and said with a stone face, "I think
he's worried about her. He came back here because he needed to take care of
you." He looked around at the mess. "I don't know where he got that idea
though."
"She insults him all the time!" Misato told him.
Hiro's patience ran out. "Okay, let's cut to the quick. You want
Shinji here because you want to celebrate his recovery and your return to
work. They _are_ happy about both, but they want to hunker down somewhere
safe and ride out the storm. Believe me, during the monsoons, we'd do
exactly that. After they think they are safe, a nice little party would be
welcome, just to let us forget. Later, but _not_ right now."
"When did _you_ become an expert on the Children?" Misato asked, her
fists on her hips.
Just like Asuka, Hiro thought, I wonder if she even realizes it. "I've
been under heavy attack. I've been under artillery barrages, naval,
shore-based and both. I know how soldiers react when the enemy pulls back
after a heavy attack, they expect them to regroup and attack again. Now
isn't the time to celebrate, even if you caught the people who've done this,
it wouldn't be an appropriate time to celebrate."
"If I think that a celebrata - "
"No," he cut her off with a wave, "You can't order them to make _you_
feel better. You shouldn't override the common sense advantages of
Krasnyzamok's place over this one. She doesn't have a large open window to
fire into, the walls aren't of the same thickness - "
"But I - " Misato said officiously.
"No, you can impose your will on this problem, and them. But if you
do," he said warningly, "All you can ever be is their commanding officer,
Stoneface in a dress." He let her blanch and squirm at that. "And if you
try to be their friend after that, you'll lose even that hold."
"Okay, I'm being selfish and stupid," Misato said angrily, "So what
does the wise old man suggest for poor little me to do?" she asked
caustically.
He forced himself to be calm and reasonable. "First, think of them.
You weren't attacked, _they_ were. Second, the Security forces promised
them that they would be safe outside the EVAs. That promise was _not_
fulfilled. _You_, personally, are going to have to make up for that
failure, because it isn't Simson's job, Ikari won't do it, and Ritsuko and
Ibuki aren't available to the kids here, and they _are_ probably doing it
with the pilots in their purview. If you really want to help them. Your
first concern _has_ to be the kids, if they aren't, they'll know and react.
They already expect and accept that they'll be sacrificed if necessary.
This is _|not|_ a necessary sacrifice."
Misato stood there and frowned.
I didn't call you immature, he thought, I made the assumption that I
was talking to an adult. But you didn't hear what I actually said.
"So what _should_ I do?" she asked angrily.
Since you aren't listening, he thought, I might as well speak the
truth, at least it will be out there.
"Pack up some of his clothes, and yours, get some help to move Penpen's
stuff, then head over there. Get a feeling of _their_ mood, and don't try
to impose your beliefs of how they should be acting. They're in the mood
for a fight, they'll just close ranks and give you one."
"You think you know so much."
"Major." He didn't salute, but he did snap to attention. Misato paled
at that. "I may just be an ex-Sergeant, like your boss. But I spent my
time on the line, the Chindits and the Tommies gave us fits. I also know
what it's like to sit in the pouring rain, waiting for the enemy to attack,"
he lowered his voice and changed his axis of attack, "Have you been in that
kind of situation? From your service, I doubt that you've stood and
exchanged fire with an armed enemy. The kids _have_,_all_ of them, I've got
decorations and my permanent smile that say I have too, so I do understand
them. So would any other combat veterans. Fine, don't believe me, that's
reasonable, ask them, ask Simson, Ramsey, Tomlinson, or Kuroda."
"Are you saying I'm not a soldier?" she asked angrily. Her arms
crossed under her breasts.
"With that outfit and that expression you look more cute than
soldiery." Oops, he realized, Change the subject. "I said you weren't a
_combat_ soldier. Both you and Ikari are 'swivel chair hussars' as the
Brits, who captured me, called them. The Americans said 'REMF', a nasty
little acronym that I won't translate. If you're more interested in the
appearance of things, and getting your way, rather than the effectiveness of
something and living to see tomorrow, you're no combat soldier."
"Leave - now."
"Fine, _Major_, I've said my piece," he said, gave her a sharp salute,
"I'll be with the kids, Major, sir. I'm sure _Miss_ Katsuragi will be more
than welcome, I'm not sure about the Major." He got the door closed before
the skillet bounced off of it.
Well, at least she won't be trying to convince anyone to eat it, he
thought of the service he'd just provided, as he put his shoes on.
"Wark!"
Hiro glanced down at Penpen, the bird staring up at him with a
curiously expectant expression. "Okay, you want to see the kids too?"
The creature seemed to consider the question. Great, now I'm
attributing human motives to a penguin, he thought. "Okay, but I hope you
don't mind riding in a bicycle basket. I can't afford a car."
The penguin waddled off.
"At least he's headed in the right direction." Hiro followed the
penguin.
---------------------------------------------------------
Misato stared at the door, the thrown, burnt food sliding down it onto
the floor, and then at the pair of her and Shinji's shoes sitting side by
side.
The only neat thing in the entire place, she thought as she slid to her
knees, hanging her head. What Hiro said hurt so much! Even worse was the
salute, she thought morosely, Because it's true. She growled and punched
the floor, regretted it immediately.
"Ow ow ow ow DAMN!" She sucked on her bruised knuckles and looked
around the disaster area she'd been trying to clean up.
She looked around again. "Oh well, I can get them all to help with
this later." She headed to the bath to get washed up. "What can I pick up
to eat on my way over?" she asked.
X-Original-Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2006 13:20:13 GMT
Followup-To: rec.arts.anime.fandom
Chapter 53 - Dimm'd Fereigners
[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter 53 -
Dimm'd Fereigners
The character Janice Berkley was created by Rory McLean, and is used with
his full permission.
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these stories.
C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments@worldnet.att.net
Stories are available in Rich Text Format and HTML at:
http://home.att.net/~danjess.gibson<http://home.att.net/%7Edanjess.gibson>
(these are the most updated versions)
Stories are available in Plain ASCII at:
http://archives.eyrie.org/anime/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
ftp://ftp.cs.ubc.ca/pub/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
http://www.cs.ubc.ca/cgi-bin/ftp/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/type/Sic-Semper-Morituri
(these are the original versions)
Il ne faut etre plus royaliste que le roi [One must not be more royalist
than the king.]
French saying from the time of Louis XVI
Dimm'd Fereigners
I Hate Everyone Equally
August 8, 1947
Ritsuko waited with the Naval personnel. A dozen pallets awaited
loading aboard the carrier. The boxes strapped to the pallets were the last
of the NERV supplies to go aboard. Maya approached. Ritsuko knew Maya had
been briefed on what was in those boxes, and had privately voiced her
concerns.
'Sempai, the Children don't need . . . to be threatened. They love
you. They'll do their jobs because of that,' Maya had assured her, to her
own massive embarrassment, 'We don't need . . . those things.'
Ritsuko privately agreed, but, The politicians demand 'a layer of
security', she thought, Ridiculous. If they turn, it will be with all the
warning and force of an avalanche. Pathetic little tricks won't have any
effect. As if we'll get any warning to allow them to be used.
"They are in their rooms, uh, in his room. The Navy knows to leave the
corridor separating them empty, and they have the surrounding corridors
heavily patrolled," Maya said, staring at the boxes on the pallets as Ranma
might stare at a cage full of angry cats.
"Good, let them think they're putting something over on us," Ritsuko
said as the pallets were hoisted aboard. Once these are on the hanger deck,
the boxes will be removed from the pallets, and ordinance lifts will take
the boxes and what's inside them to the deepest, most protected magazines
aboard. They won't be unloaded until the kids are off the ship, she
thought. "They have to be aboard _this_ carrier," Ritsuko explained to
Maya, "Because the EVA is our only hope of containment, if they . . . leak."
"And who will they go after, or who will they go after _first_?" Maya
asked earnestly in Japanese, staring at Ritsuko, "Us, you, the kids?"
"When you get into a position of authority, you can't stay clean all
the time," Ritsuko offered in Japanese, shifting uncomfortably, at her
assistant holding the moral high ground, "Some choices just make you
corrupt."
"I'm not concerned about uncleanliness. I'm concerned about
stupidity," Maya continued quietly, though forcefully, in Japanese, "Both of
them killed the Brothers without their EVAs. Do you think their magic
studies will make them _more_ vulnerable? The only two people who'll have
little to fear from what's in these 'impenetrable' containers, are the two
people they're aimed at. And no one said these prisons were escape-proof,
just that they were impenetrable." Maya stepped away as if she expected the
escape any moment, but didn't want to trigger it by running away.
Ritsuko frowned and considered the wisdom of Maya's words as the crane
carried the pallets up and out of sight. But not out of mind, Ritsuko
admitted to herself.
----------------------------------------
The ball of light, brighter than any sunlight, appeared above Nabiki's
hand, held steady for a half-second. Nabiki's face lit with delight, then
the ball winked out. "Damn!" Nabiki said from the edge of Jeff's bed.
"Hardly," Jeff grumbled, propped himself up on the pillows again. "In
a few hours, you surpassed where I was at six months, and I was considered a
prodigy."
"Let me try again." Nabiki cupped her hands and concentrated.
"Don't," Jeff warned, "One spell, even one that disappeared like that,
uses up a lot of power, like lifting a heavy rock that you dropped before
you got it over your head, don't strain. Besides, I'm not ready to teach
you the next lesson."
"Why not?" Nabiki asked with a frown. She reluctantly lowered her
hands to her sides. I can do it again, she thought, literally itching to
try again, I know I can, I know . . . I think I know what went wrong!
"Because usually with apprentices, it takes a while to convince them
that you can manipulate energy outside your own body, and that the universe
can be nudged to do things logic says it can't."
"I already know those things," she said, forcing herself not to try
again, to summon the ball of light. It was exhilarating while it lasted,
she thought delightedly, Better than any high I've ever heard of.
"Yes, but during that time, you have a chance to talk about ethics,
duty, energy flow, patterns and of course school and the price."
"School and the price?" She stared at him. Ah, nomenclature and the
'in-group' jargon, she thought naughtily, I _like_ being part of an
`in-group.
"The school details methodology. Shamanism versus Alchemy versus
Cabalism, et cetera, how the power is generated and focused. The price is,
well, psychologically a human can't accept something for nothing," Raccoon
lectured, "So they put a limit on their actions, a payment for their powers.
The smart ones pick their price by focusing on some facet of the world or
their personality. _NEVER_ ask a mage their price, it is not only extremely
bad manners, it gives you a tremendous advantage to manipulate that mage,
and even the best and most good might see their way clear to - removing -
such a threat."
"So you won't tell me yours," Nabiki gulped, it was a statement. She
hammed up her cringe.
"Certainly not!" he replied imperiously, "You may have already figured
it out. Oh, unworldly apprentice." He paused to let her chuckle, then
continued, "Mine's obvious and actually almost impossible to manipulate, if
you look at it. Some people hide theirs like paranoids. And they can be
extreme or even silly. One mage I fought couldn't travel on Thursdays. I
teleported him to the top of a mountain, now he had the choice of walking
down, or dying of anoxia. Taking him on, after my two mile climb to reach
him, was child's play, even if the initial spell nearly killed me by
exhaustion. Stupid really."
You or him? Nabiki didn't ask aloud. "What type of school do you use?"
Nabiki asked carefully. She was trying not to wonder, How many people has
Raccoon already fought and killed in his life, in reality, not like the
dream of killing the Phoenixi, and not like killing the Brothers in
self-defense?
"That's allowed, it's even considered a good icebreaker or salutation,"
he said pleasantly, "I'm a Shamanistic Technomancer by Platonist Runic
Association."
Nabiki's jaw dropped to the floor and the rest of her nearly followed.
"Can you translate that into Japanese?"
"Only if you've had plenty of green tea, so you won't fall asleep," he
replied with a smirk.
"I'm too excited to sleep." Besides, after listening to my `family`
and teachers, she thought grimly, I'm boredom-proof!
"Everything has a perfect representation, and this representation is a
spirit, not a physical form. There's a 'Chair' for example, _THE_ a
'Chair'. Magical energy comes from negotiations with these spirits and is
manipulated through complicated, almost mathematical formulae, the use of
focuses is made through runes, representing the elements or concepts, which
are the machines that bring about the actions/items desired."
Nabiki's eyes rolled up in her head, which she shook to clear it. "You
lost me completely," Nabiki admitted.
"Basically create a machine/spell out of a sentence of two to four
words, then plug it into a particular power socket to make the spell go.
Wolf, Man, Tower creates a different effect if `plugged into` a spirit of
construction than say _the_ spirit of Cats."
"I can imagine. So you use runes/concepts to create the effect and use
specific powers to drive it."
"Exactly." He nodded.
Nabiki took a deep breath, so she could _politely_ say, "You realize
that makes absolutely no sense _at_all_, you can't run an electrical device
on steam pressure."
"Machines refers to simple machines, inclined planes, levers, etc.
Components of more complicated machinery. And yes you can, you just need a
converter."
"Oh," Nabiki thought, she paused and thought hard, finally she shook
her head, "You still lost me."
"That's why I have to take time to develop your school, mine is _so_
easy and obvious, _to_me_. Yours may be different." He sighed, considered.
"I hope it isn't too different, or you'll very soon need a different
teacher. Adam wasn't joking when he talked about commerce. His magic rides
the field of needs and supplies, and he gets his power as a consequence of
that 'engine.' Don't ask me, I understand commerce, I don't understand his
school."
"When do I get to blast people?" Nabiki asked sardonically, closing one
eye and pointing at a far wall.
"Safest place is where you're aiming," he muttered, then grinned
broadly as she glared at him, "Right now, if you don't mind getting
swallowed by the blast," Jeff smirked.
"Oh, I think I'll take it a bit slower," she said as she `holstered`
her finger, then added more quietly, "And practice aiming." She paused,
"Actually, healing is what I'm really interested in. We seem to get hurt so
often, all of us." She seemed embarrassed by the admission.
"Conventional wisdom is that a combat mage cannot develop the empathy
necessary to heal. There is a fundamental flaw I discovered. At least for
`good` mages."
"They can be empathetic?" she offered, trying to find the answer.
Think like a mage, she told herself.
He shook his head. "Not generally." He stared at her, willing her to
solve the riddle.
"You have to be in touch with yourself, so you can heal yourself." She
worked out from the healing she'd seen him do.
"And?" he asked expectantly.
"And, if being wounded is a characteristic, you can transfer it," she
replied happily, smiling at her solution. Not bad, she thought, Then why is
he frowning?
"Not my way of thinking, but it does give an insight into yours."
"Excuse me?" she asked in confusion.
"For me, I see things as energy and process. Matter is merely
potential energy. Gold and lead are merely different forms of
electromagnetic energy." His hands moved through the air in patterns that
made no sense to Nabiki. "Coal and diamonds are a matter of arrangement. A
chair works because of interatomic repulsive forces and organizational
structures that exist." He pointed at her. "You probably think, 'Being
able to sit on it is one of the things that _make_ it a chair.'"
"That's right, what's wrong with thinking like that?" she asked, now
completely confused, trying to hold onto the few coherent thoughts she had.
"Nothing, nothing." Jeff covered his head with the blankets and
cowered, when Nabiki chuckled and yanked down the blankets, he uncoiled,
"Magic is about changing the universe, however you conceptualize things to
let you, well, grab the Universe's undivided attention, and . . . squeeze."
Nabiki laughed. I'm glad none of Ranma's admirers know that trick, she
thought.
"Anyway, I think I can adapt my teaching technique to get you started
along the way. The methods aren't too very different, I believe in
characteristics, but only as an external manifestation not as intrinsic
state properties."
"You lost me again." Nabiki's head was spinning. I've got a sneaking
suspicion that he's attempting to scare me out of trying to learn this, she
thought, Except I know how dangerous the life I'm asking to be part of is.
The disappearances at night, the strange behavior, let alone what would
happen if Ikari-chan caught either of us. She steadied her thoughts.
Still, I need to be part of this, to protect myself and the others. That
was the mission I was given . . . and I now fully accept it.
"I'll need to give you a primer on the nomenclature and slang of your
new business."
'Your new business', she thought and kept the smile from her face. I
saw him take on bringing Ranma up to speed in school, and teaching Asuka the
kanji she needed to do well, if he's going to show the same drive in
teaching me . . . Something occurred to her. "Are you going to help
Asuka?" And not just to get me out of the way, she thought.
"When I can slip in and do it, and slip out." He sighed sadly. "Which
means when we get back to Tokyo. Ritsuko and Maya can keep a secret.
However, I don't want to explain what I can do. I suspect the `extraction`
of that knowledge, wouldn't be pleasant. Please remember that." He stared
at her, the threat unspoken.
"If you've been trying to frighten and confuse me, it's working. If
you're trying to scare me out of training with you . . . that hasn't worked
yet."
"Fair enough. Now go rest, I need to rest and think."
"Okay." She smiled. "I'll - " Nabiki wrinkled her nose as if the
entire room suddenly smelled bad, she noticed Raccoon had the same reaction.
"What was . . . ?" her voice drifted off, as memories that were not
hers gave her the answer to her unfinished question. "That was what I'm
thinking it was, right?" She shuddered at the thought of knowing all these
things, without having learned them.
"Yep," Raccoon answered, shaking his head from the stench that wasn't
actually a smell, "A whole passel of them. Don't worry. There are simple
enough spells and wards to deal with them."
"Then why bring them aboard why would Ritsuko _allow_ them aboard, she
has to know . . . assuming they didn't _sneak_ aboard." Nabiki was already
developing stratagems. "Our presence can't have a been a . . . those things
are meant to be used on _us_?_" Nabiki shouted the last, her face contorting
in fury.
"As was the powder I developed," Raccoon told her calmly, "Fear comes
from a perception of inferiority. If you don't feel inferior, you're less
likely to be afraid."
"But . . . what have we done to make them . . . ?" Nabiki's voice
drifted off as her head drooped, "Why? Is that why they beat up Asuka, they
were afraid?"
"No. The ones who gave the _orders_, they were the ones who were - are
afraid. Frankly, _now_ they have a reason to be afraid. They did something
stupid, out of fear." She saw the swiftly hidden rage that matched her own.
"You've got a plan," she realized, "About those . . . things, not
Asuka's attackers."
"I've got a plan for both, but those things are first. Nobody told us
they were allowed on board, right? Do you think they'll go after us first
if they get out?" He smiled. "Hardly. They represent a serious threat to
this ship and its crew, it's our _duty_ to protect them."
"They don't actually believe they're inanimate . . . do they? Ritsuko
would have set them straight," she asked incredulously, "Yes . . . they do,
don't they? They didn't listen. They trust they can control those things?
When the Elder Things tried and failed?" She stopped, blinked. "I always
wanted to know things others didn't, or couldn't figure out," she said
sadly, shaking her head, "Now I know . . . so much. And I don't want to
know _any_ of it."
Raccoon put his .45 auto on the bed next to her. "That's the only
cure." He mimed blowing his brains out. "The others went through it, we
survived. You - will - survive." He collected the pistol, it disappeared
behind him. "Those people who attacked Langley were trusted," Raccoon told
her, "Like I said, there are ways of dealing with things like that. And
even if they know those things are alive, as brutal and clumsy as they are,
they are also highly intelligent. Most people don't think of them that
way."
"I don't want to know." Nabiki shook her head. What is down below is
insanity, she thought, But I couldn't be so cavalier about slaughtering
them, the Brothers had hurt me, I was fighting back.
"I'll make sure I don't get caught," Raccoon assured her with a smile.
"As if _that_ matters," she replied. Idiots, she thought, trying to
banish the crawly feeling that they were even on the same ship with them,
They intend to use those things on me and the other Children. He won't say
it, but he's going to destroy them all. Probably before we get out of
Territorial waters. What kind of idiots would schedule this transfer the
_day_ Asuka gets hit? Didn't they think we'd _notice_?_
"Okay, let's get back to magic," Raccoon suggested.
Something dawned on Nabiki, kicked out all her preconceptions and
practically rapped on her brain. "Now I know why Ranma's curse doesn't work
around you!" she shouted at him, poking him in the forehead, despite the
agony in her wrists, "You neutralize it. You _fink_!_ You've had me
believing that you didn't believe in the curse!" Nabiki raised her fists to
pummel him, then seemed to acknowledge the pain.
She mastered her brief anger, made worse by her `teacher's` knowing
smirk. "Why not cure it completely?" she demanded, grimacing from the
stinging reminder she wasn't completely healed yet.
Raccoon cocked his head while staring at her. "For who? Ranma or
Ranko?" Raccoon asked, "But that's all speculation on your part, I can
neither confirm nor deny that."
She stood up and hobbled around the room. I could beat him senseless,
she thought angrily, But it really _would_ hurt me more than it would hurt
him. But I have his `price` worked out, at least parts of it: he has to fix
things. Since he keeps insisting Ranma and Ranko aren't the same, he'd
never destroy Ranko to fix Ranma, she stopped, stunned at the next thought,
Or kill Ranma to `fix` Ranko. She flopped down on the other bunk in the
room and took time to absorb that. Okay, so Ranma's in no danger from that
... . . or anyone else who tried it. Raccoon would kill them before they
succeeded, she realized, But then . . . why does he keep saying Ranma and
Ranko aren't the same person, they are . . . aren't they? She let her head
spin from that for a bit.
Okay, change the subject, she considered why and how her spell had
failed, That will be the first question I ask when we start training again.
Raccoon pulled a few pieces of cardboard and a pen from his bedside
drawer. "Let's deal with the representations of things. Mnemonics or
symbols, it depends on how you look at it," he said, "But it will get you in
the habit of thinking systematically about your interpretation of magic."
She nodded, but stayed where she was.
----------------------------------------
What Isn't Part Of Ourselves Doesn't Disturb Us
Misato watched Tomiyo and Shinji leave the NERV Med Center together.
Shinji didn't even react to her friendly goodbye. He just waved and excused
himself, she thought, He didn't even apologize, the world must be ending.
And why didn't anyone _tell_me?!_ She watched them walk away in silence, a
pair of out-of-uniform soldiers in a two-man covering formation following at
a discreet distance. Rei and Ranma left together and they were under heavy
guard as well, Misato thought, And no one told me they were here either!
I am going to find out what's going on here! she thought as she marched
into the offices of the NERV Bodyguard division. She was amazed that she
saw more clerks, than rough men, and even those were moving mail bags and
boxes of files. The man at the central desk looked _extremely_ worried.
"Major," one rather mousey looking man with thick glasses hailed her,
as he stepped out of his office. He walked around several bags of mail and
packages, and towards her.
"What is going on here?" She looked around what looked more like a
mailroom than a security office.
"We're doing our job," the man said, looking around nervously at the
bags, boxes and the reports about them, "It's usually much neater than this,
but with the attack . . . "
"This is supposed to be the Bodyguard division!" she said angrily.
"The Childrens' actual guards are under the Intelligence department,"
the man explained, "We do do our best to keep them safe. We examine the
places they go, before they get there. We check out the people they meet.
We do have an enforcement division, but we try to keep threats well away
from the Children." The man seemed to be gaining some confidence. "I dare
say, the overall threat to the Children is bigger than you know."
Misato drew herself up to her full height and she told the man, now
easily a head shorter than she was, "Show me."
Misato was horrified to learn of the volume of threats, death and
otherwise, that the Children received. Many were just harmless nuts, some
were legitimately life-threatening, some were graphically sexual in nature.
The boys _and_ the girls got those, Misato noted, Frightening.
"Then there were the ones dealing with race. Some against the Japanese
for 'dealing with gaijin', others against the gaijin for their presence and
pollution of Japan, others against Miss Langley and Mister Davis for working
with the Japanese," the man told her as he showed examples of each type, and
sacks of further items. "We've been going back over those, as you can
guess."
Misato dug through some of the sacks to see for herself. It seems Rei
gets some as gaijin and as a Japanese, Misato noted, Hopefully, they are all
this stupid . . . and harmless.
"Most of these we can safely investigate and ignore," the man
explained, "Sometimes it's just people who've lost friends, family or
property, we don't report it because it's like complaining to city hall, we
do censor their complaints and forward them to the correct agencies, and
send along a letter of condolence to the victim. We don't make a big deal
about it, because we'd wind up annihilating half the population of Tokyo,"
the Security man told her, "By your orders or Commander Ikari's." The man
smiled.
Misato nodded at the good-natured jibe, "How did yesterday happen?"
The man rubbed his head. "We wish we could say the attackers were
possessed, but we haven't been able to find the attackers. And we keep
being told 'it isn't our job' by Commander Ikari, he believes it is a
diversion of our attention. Perhaps he's right, it would be an appropriate
time to make an attack, with everyone stretched so thin. So we've redoubled
our efforts. It isn't much," the man admitted, "But there is some truth to
it. We received a few alarming items, nothing we haven't seen before, but
never so many in one day." The man sighed, wiped his glasses. "There's
also a few rumors floating around, those we _did_ forward to the proper
authorities, and a few other sources." He lost some confidence at Misato's
intense stare. "Let's just say Major, that patriotism and a broad
understanding of self-preservation, may be found in some rather - unusual -
places. Places it would not be safe for either of us, even in broad
daylight."
"And if I ask, you'll suddenly develop memory problems?" she asked with
her hands on her hips.
"No, Major, I honestly don't know, that isn't my job. I'm good at
making a picture out of the little bits. Fortunately for all of us, most of
these - " He indicated the mailbags. " - are just separate little bits.
The attack, we don't have enough bits, but I can tell it's part of a much
larger picture." He stopped and scratched his head. "Or several pictures,
that's what's been bothering me about it so much."
The man considered, then continued, "We have found out that all those
related to the attackers remember the hostility they felt about 'Kids from
outside' doing what they were doing, what Japanese could clearly do. Like I
said, we do have an investigative arm. They related that it was too subtle
to be considered a threat, and the people were vetted. Somebody in
Intelligence made a mistake. Major, on another subject, the Children have
begun displaying stranger behaviors, Security is having a harder time
classifying `normal` behaviors for the pilots. The Children outran their
security, how Asuka's security was avoided, hasn't been confirmed. Asuka
Langley rarely even tries to evade her security troops, she treats them as a
constant reality. Probably from her time as a British prisoner. Why the
Security doesn't know why their people on site didn't call for ambulances
for Langley, or reinforcements or transport for the other pilots, is still
being investigated, by us and by them. There was no warning of this on our
end, Major. No manifesto in the mail, no specific threats, and according to
the families, no changes in the behavior of the attackers. If I was
paranoid, I'd say they got their marching orders and just moved out. I also
want to say again, this is _not_ a little bit, but part of a very much
larger picture. And those odd places to find patriotism, they are nearly as
up in arms about this as you are."
"What do you do with the more . . . innocuous letters and such?" Misato
asked.
"The fan mail?" The man smiled and laughed. "We burn it, Commander's
orders. It's not like they need it or anything. They've got orders, that
should be enough. The gifts we give to various charities, anonymously of
course. We don't want the kids getting too big for their britches."
Misato nodded. "Agreed." Very good, she thought.
----------------------------------------
Admiral Simson looked over the people in the conference room. General
Tomlinson, Captain Ramsey, the psychiatrist Dr. Samuels, and Commander
Ikari. Fuyutsuki and Stedman can take the helm for a while, he thought.
"What do we know?"
"There was no warning." Unusually, Ikari took the lead. "Our
interrogations under truth serum, and not, were remarkably similar. The
families of those who carried out the attack were fully vetted by your
people and ours. They had no clue, they suspected nothing."
"Have we located them?" Simson asked, glancing from one face to
another.
"No," Ramsey supplied, "They seem to have disappeared off the face of
the planet. We have people looking."
Meaning he's got the cults out looking, Simson realized, God help the
attackers if Langley's or Davis's people get them first. Although with
Ayanami's behavior, her people might handle them pretty roughly too.
"We need more security, people who can be trusted," Ikari said.
He seems angry, Simson thought, But he's also a good actor. With
Ramsey's people, we have people we can trust. _You_ want more subordinates.
"Frankly, that would solve another problem," Tomlinson piped up, "I
might be facing a mutiny, if we don't beef up security."
"Your wife giving you as much trouble as mine?" Dr. Samuels asked,
"After Miss Ayanami's party crashing, I got a reception last night that
would scare off an Angel."
"That too, and not just me," Tomlinson admitted, "The SP's and MP's are
in an uproar. The rest we can calm down by pointing out they don't have the
training. Even if they were civilian cops. But the MP's and SP's know
different. They're all just itching to close and destroy whoever did this.
If we don't order 'alive', we'll be able to bury all the attackers in a
single thimble."
"Some of them may have contacts with people who wouldn't speak to . . .
legitimate authorities. I was a sergeant myself once," Ikari suggested,
gazing at the others over his clasped hands.
"There are other options," Tomlinson said piously.
Okay, Ikari, you slipped yourself ahead, Simson thought, Time to give
you a little task. He nodded to Dr. Samuels.
"Commander," Dr. Samuels began, "You might want to be aware of the
details of the conversation that occurred last night."
----------------------------------------
Nabiki watched the sailors and Marines, primarily Bennington veterans,
deliberately sitting at the adjacent mess tables, surrounding the almost
empty one. They scanned the area around them as they sat and ate dinner,
exuding an air of protective malevolence. As I am, she thought, Somehow the
people around us are more defense and less audience than they were on the
Bennington. Although I shouldn't look just for threats, there won't be any,
for me anyway. It makes me more angry than if _all_ of us were targets
equally.
She was happy to see Jeff sitting at his usual place at `their` table.
Except he keeps glancing at the exits with that Rei-like stare, she thought,
And the unconscious 'no-man's-land' surrounding him, no one is coming within
a meter of him. She deliberately took `her seat` at the mess table next to
him, "You okay?"
"No, thank you for asking though." He continued to glance about.
I should start stealing food off his tray, she thought, Naw. She
grabbed his cheeks and turned his head to face her and stared at his face.
I remember the painting of 'The Thousand Yard Stare,' she thought as she
released him, I never expected to see it in real life, and especially not on
him. She spotted Ritsuko and Maya approaching. She waved to them, noted
the direct path to the table that cleared for them. Everybody wants to see
the show, Nabiki thought, And they want the maximum density of bodies
between us and any threat. She considered her guilt at the realization, I
still don't think I deserve it, but all these veterans do. Very strange.
There's also another undercurrent here, but I can't tell what it is.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly in English.
"That won't help." He picked at his food. "No one has answers, so
there aren't solutions. It's all symptoms," he said flatly.
"You aren't alone in this," she told him. And isn't _that_ reassuring?
she thought sarcastically.
Ritsuko and Maya sat at the table. "You could have asked for someone
to help you," Ritsuko noted Nabiki's crutches.
"I wanted to actually _do_ something myself," she groused. She moodily
stared at the food. "I'm getting used to this stuff," she lamented, "Will I
forget pickled plums and miso? Yakisoba and Oko - okono - pizza-ish thing,
'as-you-like-it'."
"Okonomiyaki," Maya laughed at that. "So how did the lessons go?"
"Well enough," Raccoon said, frowned at Nabiki, "I just have to worry
about her going too far and too fast." He switched to Japanese, "And
Langley wasn't alone either." There was none of the usual fire in his eyes,
from anger or cunning. "They didn't help her. _The_pilots_ had to rescue
her. Somebody should have prevented it." He returned to staring at his
food, picking at it.
Nabiki returned to her meal, considering. He still blames himself, but
how do I, or anyone, convince him it wasn't his fault? "We'll have to talk
to our people . . . somehow, they can go over the reports, see if they saw
this coming, see how we missed it."
He nodded.
Well, at least that's something, Nabiki thought, How do I carry it out?
"So how soon do we sail?" Nabiki asked.
----------------------------------------
"Some time tomorrow," Ritsuko said. Dinner is going to be a maudlin
affair, Ritsuko thought, They can wire their various spies and informants to
interrogate and re-task them. But it's make-work until we can get back to
Tokyo. I hope things work out tonight, they _both_ need it. She was
disgusted that the `professionals` couldn't manage their tasks and the
`kids` would have to take up the slack. That they can do it, she thought,
And that they _have_ to.
At least Ranma and the others did a good job, she thought, I sent a
demand for information, and got a report on what Rei and Ranma did, and that
Shinji's back and also looking out for Asuka. I'm going to hold onto that
information, until I can get more of it. Ranma's staying close to Rei,
which is good news, and Rei seems to tolerate his/her presence, at the
moment, which is even better. Ranma staying as a she is something else to
look into. While Shinji has been orbiting a little further out and seems to
be asking the other students about the events of the previous day, with
Toji, Hikari and Kensuke backing him up and supporting him. Quite a little
nest of spies. Although it hardly sounds like Shinji, perhaps a lot has
changed.
"The students are doing something like that," Ritsuko said, "None of
them like the idea of an attack on a pilot. Mr. Suzuhara said, 'Even Sour
Kraut didn't deserve that.'"
Ritsuko watched Nabiki wince at that. But Jeff didn't react to it, she
thought sadly.
Neither Jeff nor Nabiki spoke for the rest of dinner, despite Ritsuko's
and Maya's efforts to strike up a conversation. Unfortunately none of the
reports add anything to the picture that has already been drawn, Ritsuko
thought, They have to be refining the intelligence reports. Going over
previous reports to find a thread to warn of a repetition of the first
attack. I need to make a few notes, and take them to the Navy here. It
seems to lead nowhere. I have to wonder if we are missing something, or
being deliberately misled.
----------------------------------------
Misato spent the next hours learning about the threats to the Children,
that had nothing to do with `Angels`, the mythos or mad cultists. She got
angrier and angrier as the U.S. Navy/Marines' security forces and _their_
investigations into these threats, added to the reading from NERV Bodyguard
division. And I never heard a word about any of this before today, she
thought angrily.
Home-grown doomsday cults, people for whom the war had never ended,
sexual predators, mad ramblings and manifestos, she thought as she sat back
and sipped the tea she'd been served, trying to prevent a massive headache
from breaking out, Even a few nuts who worshiped the _pilots_. And the
intimations that Nabiki, Raccoon and Rei have hunted down threats from
mythos monsters, cultists and other assassins. I could hardly credit those,
until I read the New Mexico reports. Now I'm not sure.
By the end of the day, Misato was thoroughly angry and thoroughly
shaken. I want a beer or five, she thought as she walked out, I also want a
target.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki watched the medic putting the finishing touches on the casts on
her forearms, they'd already changed the cast on her leg. I guess they
couldn't get rid of the smell, she thought. "I thought gloves weren't
necessary," Nabiki joked, a WAVE officer stood by with a dress, and needle
and thread to sew her into it.
The medic smiled. "Sorry, ma'am, this is Dr. Akagi's orders. She
doesn't want you straining anything."
"I'm not fragile porcelain, sailor," she said, the flint arrowhead
still hung around her neck, still reminded her of the battle, and its
effects. And that other soldiers considered her a soldier.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, still smirking slightly.
Why do I think everybody is in on the joke, except me, she asked
herself, I don't _like_ being out of the loop. "Is Pilot Davis going to
jump out of a cake or something? And they don't want me to strangle him?"
"I wouldn't know, ma'am," the medic replied as he checked his work.
Okay, so if it isn't Raccoon, maybe it's Ritsuko. Dinner with the
Admiral and the Captains of the vessels escorting and accompanying us, but I
didn't get sewn into Raccoon's kimono, my good clothes were sufficient, she
considered the problem.
"The plaster seems dry enough," the medic told her, and the WAVE
officer. He left Nabiki alone with the dress and the WAVE officer.
"Why, thank you, sir," Nabiki said as sweetly as she could, causing the
young man to stammer and nearly fall against the bulkhead as he left. How
are they going to get me, and especially this wheelchair, wherever I'm
going? she wondered.
"Let's get you dressed," the WAVE said.
"And if I give you the trouble I gave him," she said, as she pulled
herself to her feet, "You'll stick me."
"I'd never do that," the WAVE said as she helped Nabiki dress. Nabiki
kept silent until the woman was done, fuming all the while.
Outside, there was a pair of sailors, in undress uniforms, waiting to
carefully carry her and her wheelchair through the first hatchway, and
another pair to receive her, and another two pairs at the next hatchway, and
the next, and the next. Nabiki couldn't shake a cold feeling in the pit of
her stomach about this huge expenditure of manpower, just to get her
wherever she was going. Unless they're afraid I'll run away. Not like they
could give me my crutches and let me totter around, they'd still catch me
and drag me to this secret, she thought in a growing fury, No, I have to be
carried around like a glass doll. I don't mind solicitude, but . . . She
sighed and silently collected her thoughts, and put her anger aside. I
still can't figure what I have done that's so special. I made a pest of
myself until they let me get back in the fight, and it wasn't much of a
fight. All I did was step on something. "What's all that noise?" she
asked.
'I'm sure I wouldn't know ma'am,' kept coming back as the answer, as
she moved closer. Nabiki was getting a little cross by everyone being in on
the joke except her. Okay, _why_ are they keeping it from me? she wondered
----------------------------------------
A Change of Nuisances
At the end of the school day, the pilots were cleaning the room, to
make up for leaving the day before. Shinji glanced around at the other
pilots and their guards.
"Ayanami-san, do you come back to Sammi's?" Shinji asked carefully,
trying to sound nonchalant. I'm equally afraid she'll say 'yes' or say
'no', he thought, But I am glad today is over. I'm getting tired of the
questions from the others. I've changed, more than the first Angel I killed
changed me. I don't think they'd ever understand. I don't want to talk
about it with someone who'd never understand.
"I am not sure," Ayanami-san admitted, "I have never been able to sleep
comfortably under another roof."
"Come on, it'll be fun!" Saotome-san said, her red hair swishing as she
shook her head, "You are allowed to have fun."
"No, you are still breathing," Ayanami-san said, staring at Saotome-san
and advancing, "Fun is denied me."
Saotome-san shivered and retreated at Ayanami-san's statement. Then
Ayanami-san gave a ghost of a smile.
"You scared me so bad!" Saotome-san shouted at her.
"Yes, it was intentional," Ayanami-san said, seemingly very pleased
with herself, "You said practice was required."
Saotome-san seemed extremely relieved, frustrated and confused in equal
measure.
I miss this, Shinji thought, felt himself smiling, They talk one way,
and act another. Unlike the `adults` who smile and say nothing, and act
like we can't figure out what they're doing from their actions.
"We should go to Misato-san's apartment," Shinji commented, "I don't
have fresh clothes, and you don't either, other than what Saotome-san got
when she picked up your clothes."
" 'She'?" Saotome-san complained, "I'm a - "
"Girl," Ayanami-san interrupted, smiled as Saotome-san fumed.
"The way you two fight," Toji said, as he stuck his head in the room,
"It's like you're an old married couple." He pulled back to the safety of
the hall, or so he thought.
Saotome-san grabbed up a piece of chalk and threw it at the door frame,
it hit and bounced off. Toji's 'ouch' from the hall brought a smile to her
face.
As the job neared completion, several NERV Security troopers arrived,
not plain-clothes, but uniformed combat troops. No sidearms were in
evidence, their rifles were slung, and the pins of their grenades taped
down, but that didn't mean anything.
"Congratulations Shinji-sama," Sammi told them, "Now we're in trouble."
Saotome-san smiled at the joke, and Shinji's shocked expression.
"I will intervene on your behalf," Ayanami-san said.
"What if he's drawn and quartered?" Juri asked.
Ayanami considered deeply for a moment. "That would involve pieces of
eight," she said, "I cannot make a connection beyond that."
Okay . . . he thought.
"Well, at least now we don't have to wonder where we're going after
class," Saotome-san commented.
All three pilots were taken to Misato-san's apartment to get a week's
clothes for Shinji, both girls helped him pack his clothes up. Saotome-san
and Shinji then helped Ayanami-san pack in her apartment, she had a more
limited selection.
"We've got to buy you two some clothes," Sammi teased.
"Like I'd buy a suit off the rack," Saotome-san disdained her
suggestion, sounding and looking like Raccoon while he did it.
Sammi chuckled at that.
------------------------------
Asuka stared listlessly at the ceiling, wondering about her present and
her future, whether she wanted to even _be_ here anymore.
Asuka sits alone in her bed, she thought, I _hate_ sitting, I
_hate_waiting_, I _hate_ hiding, so why am I sitting here, waiting, hiding
from what's going on outside? Wondergirl was right, I should have gone, but
... . . she mentioned it and it was like all the life drained out of me and
the rest of the world. I wasn't even angry at Horseface, I wasn't happy
that the two robots got their favorite people back. I just didn't care
anymore, it was too hard to feel or do anything. She smirked for an
instant. I bet if I'd told Wondergirl I should, but I didn't feel like it,
she would have dragged me there like a doll . . . maybe that's why I
_didn't_ say it, she thought, feeling a little better, but it instantly
faded, Having _Major_ Katsuragi come walking in, stare at me and walk out as
if she were going to bust a gut laughing if she didn't leave, yes. It makes
me feel sooo much better. Fine, some of your people finally decided to
hammer this nail down, and it stuck. "I hope you go drink yourself to death
in celebration," Asuka muttered, "You libertine beer-hound."
"I do not drink," came a quiet voice.
Asuka sat up in shock, staring at Wondergirl, who was staring back at
her. Asuka continued looking at Wondergirl, and doing what she hated,
waiting.
"Why don't you take a picture, Wondergirl, it will last longer?" Asuka
finally said.
Wondergirl cocked her head in confusion. "I have no camera."
Wondergirl waited for a while before adding, "There were no events worth
mentioning in school today. Although Tomoe-san did suggest giving the
Fourth your homework to do. Since you already possess a college diploma,
and may not be returning to school, I saw no reason not to follow her
suggestion."
"You hate Horseface that much?" Asuka asked.
"No, but I was curious, at what interval would the Fourth realize the
assignments were duplicates? 'A Martial Artist must be ready for anything',
however, our battles require thought. You will be needed."
"Thank you." Asuka watched Wondergirl turn and leave after giving her
`report`, and she had an odd thought, I don't _want_ her to leave. I felt
safe again when she was here. Bored, but safe.
------------------------------
Rei considered Asuka, considered the worried look she given her when
she realized Rei was there. I am made uncomfortable, Rei thought, I prefer
when she acts as she typically acts. Even if it is irritating, it is also
comforting.
She walked through the corridors, almost randomly, trying to decide on
her next course of action. Mrs. Simson said something about 'taking someone
out of themselves', she considered the problem, I thought I had accomplished
that yesterday. Preparations were lengthy, and to risk that again would be
unacceptable. I confused and irritated her until she reacted, but like
Nabiki-kun, the solution was temporary. I should have taken that experience
into account. Only repeated procedures returned Nabiki-kun to her normal
operational patterns, perhaps it is time to take her out of herself in a
different direction . . . in a _specific_ direction.
She spotted the Commander coming up the steps with Admiral Simson a
step behind him. "I believe the problem is continuing."
"An attack en echelon," Admiral Simson told her, the Commander nodded,
"Please continue with your plans." Again the Commander nodded.
"It will not reduce my efficiency," she assured the Commander.
"I am certain it will not," the Commander told her as they parted.
She smiled. I have the Commander's blessing on any action that does
not compromise my readiness, she thought, then shivered, There are too many
options, too many choices.
She stopped, stood and concentrated, seeking the stillness the rage had
showed her _was_ possible. Focus on _one_ thing, she told herself, As
Roku-kun said, define the problem. Separate all into those that will match
the needs of the true problem, and discard all that will not. She did that
as she stood, finding a odd calm in the operation of dismantling solutions
to see if their parts fit the `holes` available for them. I have one, she
thought and began running home.
------------------------------
Asuka was again lying on her bed, considering her future. I could
volunteer to go master Unit 03, at least then I'll be in Europe, doing
something useful. There are rumblings that something's going on out there.
The Brits aren't half bad, even their cooking. No more rice and thin,
noodle soup, oh how will I survive? she thought sarcastically.
The door opened and she sat up to face ole' Stoneface entering.
"Commander?" she tried to ramp down her automatic sarcasm. Maybe he's here
to . . . apologize, explain, reassure . . . stranger things have happened
today. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She nearly choked on the last
word.
"If you are not prepared to return to school tomorrow, as Pilot Ayanami
as opined." He stood there, staring at her. "We will schedule a series of
sync tests tomorrow."
"Commander . . . I . . . " she said. I won't admit weakness, not to
_him_!_ she thought furiously, trying to meet his gaze.
"Yes, the attack," ole' Stoneface said dismissively, pushing his
glasses up on his face, "That is the exact factor which we require data on.
The effect of emotional trauma on sync ratios," he said coldly.
Asuka felt her fury and bile rising as he turned to leave.
"Please do not allow yourself to be cheered up before tomorrow, it will
throw off our results." He closed the door as he left.
----------------------------------------
Gendo barely managed to get the door closed and locked before something
non-breakable ricocheted off the door, an instant later Miss Langley was
rattling the door to get out.
"Sync ratio!" she shouted, from behind the `soundproof` door, "I'll
give you a sync ratio."
He walked placidly away, down the corridor, seemingly oblivious to the
string of curses in six languages he recognized, and several he didn't.
Miss Langley covered his sexual and eating habits, similarities and
differences to his son, speculations on his parentage, even recommendations
that could best be defined as extreme Tantric yoga. The staff avoided the
corridor as he gazed at them sternly. Most retreated rather than rush to
either console or quiet Miss Langley.
Some 10 meters down the corridor, he spotted Admiral Simson sitting in
a chair in a cross corridor.
"Well?" the American asked as he stood.
"You were correct," Gendo admitted reluctantly, "The Pilots _were_ able
to find a solution I had not considered."
"Because it is counterintuitive, I know. You _should_ give Miss
Ayanami a 'well done', both for figuring it out, and suggesting it," Simson
replied as he fell in beside, and half a step behind, Gendo, preserving
Gendo's illusion of supremacy.
Making it _seem_ he is subservient to me, he thought, the insults from
Miss Langley still ringing down the corridor.
"Now do you understand my plan for cycling the pilots. They don't know
a lot of things, so they can bring a different insight. They may even make
things work that previously were unworkable."
Because they _are_ unworkable for humans, Gendo thought. "They would
lack discipline," Gendo countered smoothly as they walked.
"That is something _we'll_ have to provide. There will come a time
soon, when the only force that will be able to discipline them is themselves
or each other. We'll have to have their respect, and dare I say it, love,
before that point is reached. Powerful and knowledgeable as they will
become, they are still our creations, our children."
"Agreed," Gendo said, "You also suggested that we should make an effort
to provide . . . disinformation to the enemy."
"What I said was '_you_ should try to be less predictable'. Whatever
you're cooking up, if I've figured out most of it, someone else could."
Gendo hid his astonishment and squelched an immediate denial. He
couldn't know! he thought, But maybe he _does_ know about SEELE's plans.
And that's what he's referring to. He tried to retain his calm facade. "I
am not sure what you mean," he said to cover himself.
----------------------------------------
Tiny hands clasped and unclasped as the beady eyes watched the two
figures from the air vent, until they were out of sight. The Rat-Thing
considered the best way to return to its masters, the information on Langley
was important, these additional revelations would prove critical.
These musings were cut short as something it hadn't detected, broke its
neck and took its corpse off back down the air duct for a more private
lunch.
---------------------------------------------------------
Rei walked out of her bathroom, drying her hair. The towel will have
to be disposed of, she thought as she spotted Shinji-kun waiting in her
apartment.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see anything! I mean . . . I . . . did - "
he stammered as she approached.
She put her hand over his mouth and looked into his eyes. "Yes. You
did not see anything," she warned him, "Until I reveal the truth to Mein
Grossfeldmarschall." She realized he was not staring at her naked body, but
her hair.
"I don't understand."
"Mein Grossfeldmarschall has always been very proud of her hair. Now
it is gone. Now she will have a problem to solve."
"That isn't something you can . . . solve," Shinji-kun said to her, his
eyes continuing to drift upward.
"But she must _try_," Rei told him. She saw slow realization and a
smile dawn on his face. She felt her heart soar, both that he understood
and appreciated her plan, and that he was with her again. "Your extended
departure . . . was it my doing?"
"No, no Rei-san," Shinji-kun admitted, "I had to discover a few things
... . . about myself, about the other pilots, about the pilots we don't know
about."
"There is much we have not been told," Rei admitted.
"There are things my father doesn't know. Maybe he can't understand
some of the things, because _no_ human can understand them. But we'll need
to. Some things he got wrong, and I don't know why he kept the truth about
us from me."
"I agree. We can discuss this later, I have a mission to complete."
"A mission? You aren't going out naked? Are you?"
Rei considered if nudity would increase her effectiveness. "No, I will
wear clothing." She turned to get her undergarments and a clean uniform.
She heard Shinji-kun leaving hurriedly and wondered about it. Should I wear
another towel? she wondered, Perhaps. Raccoon talked about maximum shock
effect, as did Mein Grossfeldmarschall. It might be useful to employ their
advice.
------------------------------
Hiro walked into Misato's apartment through the open door. You'd think
security would be keeping a closer look, not a more distant one, he thought,
No wonder everybody calls them FUBENS, Fouled Up Beyond Even NERV Standards,
it fits perfectly. "Misa-chan!" he called as he entered. In case she isn't
as unconcerned about security as Security is, he thought.
Penpen poked his head around the corner, and gave Hiro a once over
before withdrawing. Hiro removed his shoes and followed the odd bird.
Inside, he found some food burning on the stove, and the rest of the
place looked like a tornado had been trying to neaten it up. Hiro shut off
the stove and covered the pans before the contents could be used as smudge
pots.
"Hi, good to see you." Misato smiled as she carried a bag of trash
past him and put it in the hall to be taken out later.
"Shouldn't you be packing instead of cleaning?" he asked. Getting the
kids in here to clean this mess up would probably be a good idea, for them
and her, he thought, Give them something constructive to do. And to make
this place livable again.
"Packing what?" She stopped. He couldn't help noticing, T-shirt,
shorts and dirt were all she was wearing.
She isn't wearing her necklace, he noted. "Shinji's and yours, to head
over to Krasnyzamok's place," he replied, enjoying the show.
"Oh, they're coming here," she replied quizzically.
"Why?" he asked, "This place is smaller, not to mention not as well
constructed." It also only has one bathroom instead of three or more, he
thought, With the pilots and a pack of adults, that matters nearly as much.
"This is Shinji's home," Misato said.
But not Langley's, she _hates_ this place, and isn't fond of you
either, he didn't say. "But he's only one," Hiro said carefully, "Rei was
there when the others were out. Ranma's staying there with Akagi gone.
Asuka's home is there."
"I think Shinji will want to be home after all this time," Misato told
him.
"He'd rather be where he can look after Asuka," he explained, trying to
persuade. Like he's obviously been looking after _you_!_ he thought.
"Where _he_ can look after Asuka?" Misato asked, smirked, "I think Rei
would be jealous. I didn't think he'd move that fast."
Hiro censored his first reaction and said with a stone face, "I think
he's worried about her. He came back here because he needed to take care of
you." He looked around at the mess. "I don't know where he got that idea
though."
"She insults him all the time!" Misato told him.
Hiro's patience ran out. "Okay, let's cut to the quick. You want
Shinji here because you want to celebrate his recovery and your return to
work. They _are_ happy about both, but they want to hunker down somewhere
safe and ride out the storm. Believe me, during the monsoons, we'd do
exactly that. After they think they are safe, a nice little party would be
welcome, just to let us forget. Later, but _not_ right now."
"When did _you_ become an expert on the Children?" Misato asked, her
fists on her hips.
Just like Asuka, Hiro thought, I wonder if she even realizes it. "I've
been under heavy attack. I've been under artillery barrages, naval,
shore-based and both. I know how soldiers react when the enemy pulls back
after a heavy attack, they expect them to regroup and attack again. Now
isn't the time to celebrate, even if you caught the people who've done this,
it wouldn't be an appropriate time to celebrate."
"If I think that a celebrata - "
"No," he cut her off with a wave, "You can't order them to make _you_
feel better. You shouldn't override the common sense advantages of
Krasnyzamok's place over this one. She doesn't have a large open window to
fire into, the walls aren't of the same thickness - "
"But I - " Misato said officiously.
"No, you can impose your will on this problem, and them. But if you
do," he said warningly, "All you can ever be is their commanding officer,
Stoneface in a dress." He let her blanch and squirm at that. "And if you
try to be their friend after that, you'll lose even that hold."
"Okay, I'm being selfish and stupid," Misato said angrily, "So what
does the wise old man suggest for poor little me to do?" she asked
caustically.
He forced himself to be calm and reasonable. "First, think of them.
You weren't attacked, _they_ were. Second, the Security forces promised
them that they would be safe outside the EVAs. That promise was _not_
fulfilled. _You_, personally, are going to have to make up for that
failure, because it isn't Simson's job, Ikari won't do it, and Ritsuko and
Ibuki aren't available to the kids here, and they _are_ probably doing it
with the pilots in their purview. If you really want to help them. Your
first concern _has_ to be the kids, if they aren't, they'll know and react.
They already expect and accept that they'll be sacrificed if necessary.
This is _|not|_ a necessary sacrifice."
Misato stood there and frowned.
I didn't call you immature, he thought, I made the assumption that I
was talking to an adult. But you didn't hear what I actually said.
"So what _should_ I do?" she asked angrily.
Since you aren't listening, he thought, I might as well speak the
truth, at least it will be out there.
"Pack up some of his clothes, and yours, get some help to move Penpen's
stuff, then head over there. Get a feeling of _their_ mood, and don't try
to impose your beliefs of how they should be acting. They're in the mood
for a fight, they'll just close ranks and give you one."
"You think you know so much."
"Major." He didn't salute, but he did snap to attention. Misato paled
at that. "I may just be an ex-Sergeant, like your boss. But I spent my
time on the line, the Chindits and the Tommies gave us fits. I also know
what it's like to sit in the pouring rain, waiting for the enemy to attack,"
he lowered his voice and changed his axis of attack, "Have you been in that
kind of situation? From your service, I doubt that you've stood and
exchanged fire with an armed enemy. The kids _have_,_all_ of them, I've got
decorations and my permanent smile that say I have too, so I do understand
them. So would any other combat veterans. Fine, don't believe me, that's
reasonable, ask them, ask Simson, Ramsey, Tomlinson, or Kuroda."
"Are you saying I'm not a soldier?" she asked angrily. Her arms
crossed under her breasts.
"With that outfit and that expression you look more cute than
soldiery." Oops, he realized, Change the subject. "I said you weren't a
_combat_ soldier. Both you and Ikari are 'swivel chair hussars' as the
Brits, who captured me, called them. The Americans said 'REMF', a nasty
little acronym that I won't translate. If you're more interested in the
appearance of things, and getting your way, rather than the effectiveness of
something and living to see tomorrow, you're no combat soldier."
"Leave - now."
"Fine, _Major_, I've said my piece," he said, gave her a sharp salute,
"I'll be with the kids, Major, sir. I'm sure _Miss_ Katsuragi will be more
than welcome, I'm not sure about the Major." He got the door closed before
the skillet bounced off of it.
Well, at least she won't be trying to convince anyone to eat it, he
thought of the service he'd just provided, as he put his shoes on.
"Wark!"
Hiro glanced down at Penpen, the bird staring up at him with a
curiously expectant expression. "Okay, you want to see the kids too?"
The creature seemed to consider the question. Great, now I'm
attributing human motives to a penguin, he thought. "Okay, but I hope you
don't mind riding in a bicycle basket. I can't afford a car."
The penguin waddled off.
"At least he's headed in the right direction." Hiro followed the
penguin.
---------------------------------------------------------
Misato stared at the door, the thrown, burnt food sliding down it onto
the floor, and then at the pair of her and Shinji's shoes sitting side by
side.
The only neat thing in the entire place, she thought as she slid to her
knees, hanging her head. What Hiro said hurt so much! Even worse was the
salute, she thought morosely, Because it's true. She growled and punched
the floor, regretted it immediately.
"Ow ow ow ow DAMN!" She sucked on her bruised knuckles and looked
around the disaster area she'd been trying to clean up.
She looked around again. "Oh well, I can get them all to help with
this later." She headed to the bath to get washed up. "What can I pick up
to eat on my way over?" she asked.