(Midnight, Tokyo 3 . . .

     A dimly lit hospital room, where a small form sits hunched on the edge of
a starched white mattress, clutching the ends of the bedsheets about its
shoulders . . .

It is a long time before a soft voice penetrates the darkness . . .)

Rei:  You don’t feel pain anymore?

Tenkei:  No. It is my pain . . . that lets me know I am alive.

Rei: Then why are you sad?

Tenkei:  . . .

 (silence . . .)

Rei: . . . You should sleep now.

Tenkei:  I will sleep after you leave.

Rei:  It is acceptable.  Do as you wish.

     (A feminine figure stands calmly in the shadows just beyond the
edge of the luminance afforded by the small nightlight perched above
the head of the bed.  Its movements, both subtle and soundless, are
nearly undetectable in the darkness as it turns from the child in silence . . .)

Tenkei:  Will you come back . . . ?

Rei:  If you want me to.

Tenkei: . . .

Rei: . . . I am going now. . .

Tenkei:  . . . why did you come?

Rei: . . ?

Tenkei:  Why did you come?

Rei:  I don’t know.

Tenkei:. . .

     (The boy says nothing as the girl stands there, regarding him for
an instant, before finally turning away—exiting the room without a
word, closing the door softly behind her. . .)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 (The next day . . .)

Aoi:  (panting)  Look . . . can’t we discuss this?

Maya:  There is nothing to discuss--

Aoi:  But what you’re asking is impossible!!!

     (Aoi Tamashii’s shout of incredulity is a tinny and hollow
squeal over the speaker of control booth 12. . . Seated behind
the technicians at the main control panels, Maya winces, glancing
at the befuddled major Misato Katsuragi, who stands with her
arms folded rather nonchalantly at the doorway to the chamber . . .  )

Image by Elaine Cardenas and Maher Al-Samkari

Maya:  (chuckling) Impossible?  I wouldn’t say that . . .

Aoi:  Is-are you laughing at me?

     (Katsuragi clears her throat-calling to the image of the young
girl over the comm. system, whilst simultaneously eyeing young Ibuki warily --)

Misato:  No, Aoi, no one is laughing at you . . .

Aoi:  You think this is funny . . . Well I can’t do it!

Maya:  Why not?

(Maya turns back to her superior questioningly--)

Maya:   It’s not like it’s a life or death decision, ma’am . . .

Misato:  Maya . . . you’d be surprised . .

Aoi: . . .

Maya:  I guess . . .

Misato:  A girl’s hair can be very important to her . . .

Aoi:  I don’t want to do it!!  I don’t!!

Maya:  You have to make these kinds of sacrifices sometimes.

Aoi:  I AM NOT GOING TO CUT MY HAIR!

Maya:  It isn’t that bad--

Aoi:  *huffing* If I do I’ll look like a boy!! I--

     (Aoi Tamashii catches herself a millisecond too late, as
Ibuki glares at the girl’s viewer image indignantly, causing the
child to turn an abashed shade of pink. .)

Aoi:  N-no offense intended, ma’am!  I mean--That’s not really what I meant . . !!

     (Misato stifles herself, attempting to stem a tide of laughter which
threatens to overtake her completely. . . the woman’s efforts are
altogether ineffective, however, as Maya notes the muffled chortles
that come from the hand cupped over Katsuragi’s mouth . . .

    the younger woman remains composed, however, and
continues . . .though it is possible for Tamashii to detect a slight
hint of ire in her usually optimistic voice . . .)

Maya:  Look . . I know that this is a very tough thing to do . . but hair such as yours could
           interrupt the nerve impulses transmitted from your interface band on your head
           to the EVA’s onboard OS . . .

Aoi:  But you let Soryu keep hers long!

Maya:  Asuka is a different case.  There’s something about the
             composition of your hair’s structure . . . we don’t get this
            sort of thing too often, mind you--

Aoi:  Miss Katsuragi, what is she talking about?!

Misato:  you have to cut your hair, Aoi. Either you do it, or Nerv does it for you . . .
             and trust me, I don’t think you’d be happy with a crew cut . . .

Aoi:  But --- That’s not fair!

     (Misato grunts, barking a response into the comm. mic . . .)
 
Misato:  You're the one who wanted this, remember?  Get used to it. . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Simultaneously, in the narrow space afforded by the window-like
walls of the golden test plug immersed up to half its length in stasis
liquid not 5 meters away, Aoi Tamashii drums the fingers of her left
hand against the simulation console before her. . . on her right hand
rests her chin, her otherwise pleasant features marred by a
disconsolate pout that, interestingly enough, she makes no
effort in hiding . . .)

Aoi:  (mumbling)  They said this wasn’t easy  . .but . .

     (The girl shuts her eyes and grits her teeth, tasting the LCL
fluid around her with a bitter wince--)

Aoi:  (thinking) this is AWFUL!!!!

     (Tamashii roles her eyes as, from the chamber speakers above, the
voice of the test coordinator blares over the intercom system . . .)

Maya:  We’re done here . . . I’ve gotten all the data we can collect at this point in time.

Aoi:  ugh . . .thank you . . .
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (As the lock on the casement lid on the simulation plug is
discharged from its mooring, and the door slides back with a
mechanical hiss, Misato watches through the crystal partition
with an odd jocularity . .  the woman stands from her place by
the entrance to the room, walking toward Maya’s chair in the
center of the information gathering panel . .)

Misato:  I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone so eager to get out of an entry plug . . .

Maya:  . . .

Misato:  You know . .what she said did make sense . . . why does she have to cut her hair?

Maya:  (sighing) it can’t be helped, ma’am . . .there’s something
                        about the molecular composition . .

     (Misato’s face promptly twists into a look of bafflement--)

Misato:  of her HAIR?

Maya:  It sounds strange, but it’s true . . . In any environment in which
            an active current is present.  the odds are, oh, less than one in
            twelve-thousand, but it’s not impossible . . .

     (Katsuragi Shrugs, turning back to the glass divider where,
on the other side, a feminine figure in an ivory test plug suit climbs
precariously from her entry plug toward the step of the main catwalk
lining the side of the chamber . ..)

Misato:  So, how’d the initialization test go?

     (Maya does not look up as she responds, however--)

Maya:  Surprisingly.

Misato:  What do you mean?

     (Ibuki leans back, providing Misato with an unobstructed view,
whilst indicating a percentage meter on the screen below her . ..)

     (Katsuragi bends closer, staring blankly at it for a second before the
significance of the illuminated numbers register in her mind-

    a realization which causes her to balk  . .)

Misato:  Oh . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
     (High above . . . nearly one and a half kilometers from the test plug
facility held within the bowels of the NERV subcompound,

     A dingy, overcast sky hangs low over the gleaming spires and armored
towers of central Tokyo-3; ominous columns of darkened cloud that promise
a tumultuous rainy pique to the perhaps this, or even the next, day's end.
The current state of dreary weather does little more than obscure the lofty
structures in a gloomy mix, however; the low visibility combined with the
intolerable humidity creating an environment that is hardly optimal for the
comfort of the city’s inhabitants . . . Indeed, the only lights shining brightly
in this midday atmosphere  are those of the red signal beacons atop the
higher skyscrapers, and the strobes of passing commercial and NERV
aircraft high overhead.

     Despite the wretched weather, however, a small sampling of the denizens
of this overcast metropolis have found a place outside their respective homes
to convene--though the sampling of activities available on a day such as this
are few and far between . . .

     . . .besides the obvious, that is .  .)

Touji:  Idiot!  How could I let it get away from me so easily!

Kensuke: you don’t have much of a chance now-
                without that item, you’re not going any further . . .

Touji:  Would you shut up already?  I can’t concentrate with
            you distractin’ me like this!

Shinji: . . .

Touji:  There!  Almost got it---

Kensuke:  Nope!

Touji:  Dammit!

Shinji: . . . oh man . . .

     (Shinji Ikari sighs wearily as Touji Suzihara reaches into the
pocket of his blazer, plunking down yet another handful of change
on the console of the arcade game at which he is currently enthralled.)

Shinji:  You’re wasting your money, you know . . .

Touji:  This isn’t about money!

Shinji: it’s not?

     (Suzihara hesitates for a moment, glancing at Kensuke,
who stands beside him counting coins with decidedly
undetermined eyes . . .)

Touji:  no . .It’s about honor!

     (Shinji, however, shakes his head, unconvinced . . .)

Shinji:  What’s honorable about being broke?

Touji:  Eh, you don’t get it . .!

Kensuke:  Come on, Shinji . . . you know better than to haggle with this guy over the value of money . .

     (Suzihara seems to miss Aida’s remark, growling at the screen before him . .)

Touji:  I’m going to kick that computer’s stupid ass . . .

Shinji:  (sighing) Whatever . . .

     (Having totally lost interest, Ikari turns away-scanning the
noisy room as a colloquy of videogame sounds fills the air,
creating an unrelenting background clamor to a unusually
vacant area.  Indeed, the rows of arcade cabinets stand,
for the most part, unoccupied, save for one or two lone
stragglers with nothing better to do . . .

     and, of course, the aforementioned . . .)

Touji:  Come on!  Show me what you’ve got!

Shinji: . . .

     (As the noise of Touji’s continued combat can be heard once
more, Kensuke takes a step back from his side, pushing his glasses
into place atop his nose before leaning toward Ikari.  The boy’s
eyes are obscured by the glint of the halogen lighting overhead off
of his oversized lenses, hiding the covert yet curious look on his
face as he speaks . . .)

Kensuke: The word at school is that Asuka didn’t make her flight.
                They’re saying she chickened out at the last minute . . .

     (Ikari does not shift his gaze from the building entrance as
he sits, quiet, for a moment, before responding softly . .)

Shinji:  She didn’t go.  She came home that night . . .

     (The child idly rubs the pit of his stomach as he says this,
seemingly remembering certain other aspects of the girl’s return . . )

Kensuke:  Well then . .why isn’t she in class?

 (Shinji’s eyes narrow--)

Shinji:  would you go back to school if you knew everyone was going to talk about you?

Kensuke:  Me?  Heck yeah . . . Unlike you, Shinji, some of us thrive on the attention . . .
 
Shinji: Well . .not the kind of attention I’m talking about.

Kensuke:  oh . . .

     (The boy straightens out his glasses again, taking a step
toward the third child with renewed interest . .)

Kensuke:  Then-where’s she been?

Shinji:  She stays in her room all day . . . at least, when Misato’s there.

Kensuke:  She still mad at her, huh?

Shinji:  She doesn’t talk to her anymore . . . and she stays quiet when I’m around, too.

     (then, seemingly from out of nowhere, the gruff sound of
Touji Suzihara’s voice seems to cut in . .)

Touji:  How can anyone stay mad at a babe like that? Now you know she's a demon . . .
            from the darkest pits of hell they came . . .

Shinji: But she's stopped talking to me as well . . .

Touji:  Eh, sounds like she just wants to be left alone for a while.  give her her space, she’ll figure it out.

Shinji:  I don’t know if that’s the best idea . .

Touji:  And what are you obsessing over it for?  If I were in your place
         I’d be glad she decided to shut up for a while!
         Give me the chance for some peace and quiet . .

Shinji: . . .

     (Ikari turns around, frowning at his friend.  For an instant,
Touji’s eyes shift from the game screen to Shinji’s.  They are
unable to keep their place, however, and are soon affixed on the
monitor once more . . .

     the third child is then jarred a bit, as Kensuke places a hand heavily upon his shoulder--)

Kensuke:  Don’t mind him.  He’s just pissed off because he’s losing again . . .

Touji:  I am not!  Aw--RRRGH!  Look what you made me do!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

    (elsewhere . . .)

Asuka:  I don't know what's more shameful . . .

Hikari:  What do you mean?

Asuka:  The fact that things have gotten this pathetic . . .

Hikari: . . .?

Asuka:  or . . the fact that I let that thick-skulled dumbass get under my skin like that . . .

Hikari:  You're still here, aren't you?

Asuka:  Makes no difference.

     (The home of the Horaki's is a solemn and peaceful place on this
dreary day.  In a room whose amenities and comforts can best be
described as  indicative of a more carefree girlhood, the youngest
daughter Horaki sits, her erstwhile and troubled friend Asuka Soryu
sprawled out atop her carefully made bed.  The young German's
red locks lie draped over her back and shoulders as she lays there,
her face buried in the crook of her elbow, slightly muffling the monotone
ennui in her voice . . .)

Hikari:  I thought you wanted to work things out . . .

Asuka:  There's nothing more to work out.  I was an idiot to come back, and now I'm going to suffer for it.

Hikari:  Don't just sit there trying to make yourself feel bad about it--

Asuka:  I deserve the bad feelings.

Hikari:  What are you going to do now, Asuka?

Asuka: you know, I don't care anymore.

     (Suddenly, Hikari stands with an irate growl--)

Hikari:  Why do you talk like that?

Asuka:  This whole thing is getting old . . .

Hikari:  Not as old as this!

     (Surprised at the sound of anger in Horaki's normally reserved
voice, Soryu tilts her head slightly, looking at the girl through the
tangled strands of red hair draped over her eyes . .

 Where she sees, indeed, Hikari now standing with hands on hips, fuming. . .)

Hikari:  I'm tired of this depression routine of yours!  I've tried my best to be a
            good friend to you through all of this, but you act like I'm some sort of
            listening wall or something! How do you expect me to sit here and watch
            you wallow in your own self-pity like this! open your eyes, Asuka! You're
            acting like the whining pigs you used to despise!

Asuka: . . .

Hikari:  You don't even tell me what's wrong anymore!  It's like I'm no longer worthy of your
             trust or something—like you’re afraid of being hurt by me!

     (to this, Asuka sits up--propping herself on an elbow as she
attempts to return the girl's accusation-)

Asuka: . . that's  . . that's really not true . . .

     ( The uncertainty in the girl’s voice, however, seems to doom
the moment even further, as Hikari’s eyes open wide . . .)

Hikari: listen to you!  even you're not convinced of your own response!  you come here like
             you want my help, then you become all morbid and uncommunicative!

Asuka:   . .

Hikari:  I've had enough!

     (With this, the girl turns around, stepping through the open doorway behind her . .)

Hikari:  Come to me when you want to talk sense.  Asuka . . I'm your friend but . .
             I can't do anything but worry when you do this!

Asuka: . . .

Hikari:  I'm  sorry . . .

     (Asuka watches for a moment, as Horaki looks at her with a troubled
gaze for a brief instant before padding from the room with a shake of her head.
The second child's  eyes then track downward for a moment, becoming lost in
the twists and turns of the floral patterns on the neatly made bedspread below her . . .)

Asuka: (quietly)  no one wants to listen . . .

     (Oddly, the girl finds that her own utterance sparks a remembrance
in her memory--within seconds, the images unfold in her mind like some
wanting picture show, bringing forth the sight of Misato Katsuragi's
bedroom in the morning light, its sole occupant unseen by Soryu's mind's
eye. . .)

    -(flashback)- Misato:  . . . I know it's pushing things--but I think she has
                                    to remain active.  It may be direct from me, but have
                                    your department reinstate her anyway. . . I don't want to
                                    do anything that might make things any stranger than they
                                    already are . . .Maya, it's important that we do what we
                                    can to prevent her from getting . . .unstable.

     (The girl says nothing as she recounts this--indeed, it takes only an instant for
her mind to recall a separate, albeit not altogether dissimilar incident from much
farther in the past  . . . there are no faces to accompany this reverie, only the
blurred obscurity that comes from the recalling of distant childhood pain. . .)

     -(flashback)- voice:  Though we have identified the experiment as the cause,
                                   we do not understand it.  Curing mental illness such
                                   as this is a goal that will most likely prove impossible.
                                   it is rare for a person . .a woman such as this to fall prey
                                   to such a condition provided there is no prior history of
                                   any previous  . . instability . . .)

     (With a shake of her head, the latter voice comes to a stop, falling silent as the
redheaded pilot raises herself to her knees, sliding off the side of the bed.

     It is in a bitter silence that she exits the room, strangely, making no effort to
call her friend to show her to the door . . .)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (meanwhile . . .)

     (A lone figure sits quietly in the dim and vacant personnel lounge located in section G-3 of the eastern portion of the technical labyrinth that serves as Nerv’s inner sanctum.

     Misato Katsuragi leans with elbows propped upon a cold, stainless steel table, her hands wrapped around a well-worn NERV issue coffee mug, her forehead pressed to its familiar, smooth ceramic surface in a tired repose . . .)

Misato:  (thinking)  margin of error point seven zero nine.  Seventy nine.  . .

     (As the major takes a sip from her mug, a less emburdened part of her mind notes, somewhere, that the coffee has become frigid . . . )

Misato:  (thinking) God, it's cold . . . how long have I been here?
 

     (eyeing the pale brown liquid held within her cup for a moment, she then looks down--gazing upon the forms and printouts spread out on the table before her . . . some of which are marred by one or two dark coffee stains, and a dark brown ring from the mug's base outlined in the very middle of another--

Misato:  Maybe it’s a mistake.  . .

     ( . . . and it is with a bitter, inner smirk that Misato notes the drink tastes like a solvent stripping the enamel from her teeth, before she sets the cup down, running a hand through her hair . . .)

     (And she is caught off guard when, without warning, the memories of that morning’s
somber contemplation begin to return, invading her mind with doubts and uncertainty . .. )
 

     -(flashback)- Maya:  The ratio is simulated.  There’s not enough data
                                        to verify these readings. . .

Misato:  (thinking)  I'm supposed to report this . . .
 

     (Once more, she looks at the data below, biting her lip unconsciously
as she reads the numbers again . . .)
 

    -(flashback)- Maya:  But . .in all honesty, we’ve never had test values this high . . .

Misato:  (thinking) seventy nine.  Someone higher up would jump at this.  Someone would freak . . .
 

 (The woman clasps her hands together, resting her chin on them lightly . . .)

 
    -(flashback)- Maya:  We can’t just ignore this . . . the sych test is scheduled 24 hours from now!

Misato:  (thinking) Someone smart would take advantage of this . . .

 
    (Suddenly, Katsuragi's eyes lift--facing forward into the dimness with glazed eyes . . )
 

    -(flashback)- Maya: Major Katsuragi . . .perhaps  someone should do something . . .

Misato:  (whispering) Someone's not me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyn:  Why are you being so quiet today?

Aoi:  I'm not feeling like myself right now.

     (High above the armored buffer between the NERV tactical zone, and the
fog-enshrouded skyscrapers of Tokyo 3, two figures sit in a less than crowded
traincar traveling on the city's metropolitan public rail . . .

     Lyn Anouilh sits, rather uncomfortably, in one of the well-worn duraplastic
chairs beneath the row of windows lining the side of the transport.  The boy's
hand rests on his injured arm, which in turn lies in his lap, still wrapped in a
newly reinforced cast.

     Next to him, a quiet and disconnected Aoi Tamashii also sits--her unbound
hair spread over her shoulder, the girl runs her hands through it with an odd
reserve, seemingly lost in thought as the boy adjacent to her looks on . . .)

     (Anouilh gazes at the child for a moment, noting with a special unease the
empty chair that lies between them, occupied only by a plastic shopping bag
filled with some groceries that, in previous trips, has had its place on the floor
between Tamashii's feet . . .)

Lyn:  Do you want me to hold that for you?

     (The child says this with a note of hopefulness in his voice that, despite his
efforts to hide, is obvious to the girl.  Aoi does not look up as she answers, however . . .)

Aoi:  For the third time, 6, it's fine where it is . .

Lyn: . . .

     (The boy nods, looking down at his cast, surprised at the hurt he
feels over something that seems so utterly trivial . . )

Aoi: . . ?

     (Then, for the first time since their trip began, Aoi raises her eyes from her
retractive contemplation, as the pit-pat of heavy raindrops spattering against the
windows of the slow-moving traincar  assails both their ears.

     Seeing an open opportunity once more, Anouilh clears his throat . . once more
attempting to break the ice by commenting upon the obvious . . .)

Lyn:  It's raining . . .

Aoi:  . . .

Lyn:  you know . . .

Aoi: . .?

Lyn:  My mum used to tell me . . when I was little . . that when
        it rained, it was because the  angels in heaven were crying . . .
        and when there was thunder, they were playing tenpins . . .

Aoi: . .

     (Lyn chuckles at his own peculiarity as he says this, before he looks up
at his companion only to find, to his unhappy surprise--

     that Aoi is looking at him as if he is, quite impossibly, stark raving mad . . .)

Lyn:  Uh . . .

Aoi:  . . .
 
     (For several enervating seconds, Anouilh squirms under her gaze,
unable to mutter something or other about trying to make conversation . .

     before, to his relief, the girl's look softens, and she shakes her head with a smile . . .)

Aoi:  My . . parents never told me such absurd things.
        Although when I think about it, I guess it makes a little sense . . .

     (Then, to his further satisfaction, she actually laughs to herself . .)

Aoi:  Human beings have a strange way of making up
        stupid little stories to explain everyday things . . .

Lyn:  Yeah . . .

     (for a moment, the two look at each other across the gulf of the vacant
seat that still lies between them.

     then, however, Aoi smiles complacently, taking the plastic grocery bag
from the chair, and dropping the parcel between her feet. . .

     Anouilh says nothing as he shifts to that seat a second later, save
for a slight gasp as the girl at once takes his gauze-bound arm carefully
in her hands, resting it gently in her lap as she looks at the rain outside the window . . .)

Aoi:  Did she ever say . . .

Lyn: . . ?

Aoi:  your mother . . . did she ever tell you why
        they were crying?

Lyn:  Oh . . No . . .well . .. yes . . . but . . .

Aoi:  but what?

Lyn: It’s kind of silly . . .

Aoi:  And you think I’m not?

Lyn:  . . .

Aoi:  Go on . . .

Lyn:  She said . . it was because they were sad . .
         because of how far man had fallen from the graces of God . . .
         but . . they also cried for the way God had punished man, with the second impact. . .

Aoi:  She believed this?

Lyn:  I don’t really know. She was very religious. . . but I was just a child.

     (The girl considers her thoughts for a moment—watching
the rain outside with uncommon interest . . .)

Aoi:  Do you think the second impact was a punishment upon man, by God?

Lyn:  I don’t know . . . maybe . . . but . .then again, I’ve never really thought about it. God, I mean.

Aoi:  it’s strange how people . . . don’t look to their own beliefs when explaining tragedy.

Lyn:  What do you mean?

Aoi:  It’s nothing.  I take it you know the story of a great flood, and the man called Noah?

Lyn:  Of course . . .

Aoi:  Would you say that was the work of a vengeful God, upon man, for his arrogance?

Lyn:  I think so . . yeah, that’s what it says, I think . . .

     (Aoi tilts her head to the side, watching the sparse, nearby
scenery rush past in a discolored blur . .)

Aoi:  That’s what’s wrong.

Lyn: ?

Aoi:  Throughout history . . . God has brought destruction upon him as punishment for his evils.
         But it has not been to destroy him, or to bring suffering just for the sake of suffering . . .

     (She looks at the window once more--)

Aoi:  He has done it to bring forth change . . . to push people to better
        themselves, and not become lost in the pursuit of sin.

 (Aoi frowns, looking at the vacant seats of the traincar with contempt . . )

Aoi:  We complain, and ask God why he makes us suffer.  Why do we have to
         face the angels? why do we have to die in so many terrible ways, if God is all good?

Lyn: . . .

Aoi: Mankind is the only thing that kills for the sake of killing.  Whether it be angels or . .our own
        people . . .we’ve got no limits when it comes to violence.

Lyn:  You seem to know a lot about this . . .

     (The girl smiles weakly, squeezing his hand a bit tighter . . )

Aoi:  My parent . . . my . . mother . . was a very religious person too.

Lyn:  You know . .  you never talk about your parents . . .

Aoi:  (quietly) there’s not much for me to say.

Lyn:  What?

Aoi:  Nothing . . . look, don’t worry about it.  I have something else I want to tell you .  . .

Lyn:  Hmm?

     (The boy eyes her anxiously, as Aoi squeezes the fingers of his
hand, looking down at his cast for a moment, before lifting her eyes
to meet his . . .)

Aoi:  Something very important . . . something I hope you will understand . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Elsewhere . . . several hundred meters below the city railway system,

     in the upper vertex of the shining pyramid located atop NERV’s lower interior .  .)

     (The office of the secretive organization’s supreme commander is a den
of shadows, completely dark save for the flickering light provided by a video-
screen which sits atop the massive desk located in the room’s very rear.

     Behind it, the imposing figure of Gendo Ikari stands—the skin  of his hands
and face illuminated in an ghostly, azure glow from the light emanating from
the small monitor.  As if to complete his inhuman appearance, his eyes are
obscured by his glasses, which, in turn, reflect the flickering image of the
person to whom he is focused upon.

     Indeed, the commander’s aspect is a mask of utter seriousness as he gazes
at the communicator screen, where a smaller man sits, an obvious look of
displeasure on his face . . .)

Gendo:  Whether or not you feel the effort is necessary is irrelevant.
            The simple fact that  it is, is what is vital.

Man:  You’re running out of options, Ikari.  If I were you, I’d listen very
            carefully to my offer.

Gendo:  I will remind you that you are not me, and your assumption that I would
             view you as a savior of sorts is ill-conceived, to say the least.

Man: . . .

     (Ikari turns his back to the gentleman, gazing at the lineforms
 and inscriptions on the floor below . . .)

Gendo:  I will, however, listen.

Man:  It concerns what we spoke of last. . .

     (At this, however, Gendo raises his hand, silencing him . . )
 
Gendo:  No.

Man: . . .

Gendo:  The only reason I have agreed to this communication is based on
            your assurance that today’s business would not be of a personal
            nature . .

Man:  A necessary tactic, to gain your attention.

Gendo:  Incorrect.  A lie.

Man:  No . . .

Gendo:  I will grant that such deception is a necessary part of this world we live in,
            indeed, of this very organization. However, this is a singular exception,
            and a waste of my time.

Man:  Alright, it was a lie—but you must listen!

Gendo:  I told you, I shall listen . . . but my confidence is now all the
            more difficult to gain.

     (The man in the viewer wipes his brow, nodding complacently  . .)

Man:  In exchange for . . the small favor I have asked . . . I will provide
            you with information.

Gendo:  Pertaining to what?

Man:  I can’t tell you here—

Gendo:  Surely, you don’t expect me to be so inane.
            What you ask of is no small favor.

Man:  I can’t tell you what the information is in regards to yet—but I can tell you it is key to
          the committee’s  plans for the future—and for your organization.

Gendo: . . . I am not convinced.

Man:  Dammit, Ikari!  I told you, I can’t tell you here! I fear that we
         may not be on an entirely secure connection—

Gendo: Rubbish.  You fear you will reveal too much, and lose your only bargaining chip . . .

Man:  We have to meet . . . in a safe place.  Far from prying ears.

Gendo:  Very well, if you must insist.  But only if you tell me what we shall discuss.

     (Ikari glares at the man’s image as he says this—detecting, with a sense
of dark satisfaction, the barest hints of rage behind the unnamed gentleman’s eyes.
The stranger says no more, however, as he makes a fist—then opens his hand in
front of the camera, indicating the number "4" with trembling fingers . . .)

     (To this, Gendo nods, smirking . . .)

Gendo:  Much better.  We are agreed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 (Meanwhile . . .)

Misato:  Hello?

Maya:  (over the phone)  Major?  You wanted me to contact you . . .?

Misato:  Yeah . . . You’ve got something?.

     (There is a quiet sigh at the other end of the line, followed by a brief moment of uneasy silence . )

Maya:  The truth is, there is still very little that can be said about the results right now.
             until we put her into actual contact with an EVA, the simulation can’t be
             completely trusted.

Misato:  So this could be a fluke?

Maya:  Yes.

 (it is now Katsuragi’s turn to pause, as the woman considers the options now laid out before her . . .)

Misato:  Alright.

Maya:  Ma’am?

Misato:  Where are you right now?

Maya:  Er . . . I’m at the hospital .

Misato:  The hospital?  Why?

Maya:  Some business I need to take care of . . .

Misato:  whatever . .look, I need to know something . .

Maya: . . ?

Misato:  When has Aoi’s test been scheduled?

Maya:  Tomorrow at noon . . .

Misato:  With unit 02, correct?

Maya:  Yes Ma’am—Unit 02 is currently the only EVA without a viable backup.

Misato:  This is very important, Maya . . .

Maya:  I don’t understand . . .

Misato: Have you dumped unit 02’s pilot core yet?
            The RAM data with all of Asuka’s synch command codes?

Maya; Um . .

     (Maya’s voice seems to take on a note of curiosity as she responds to
this most peculiar question--)

Maya:  Not yet.  We weren’t scheduled to clear the core until tomorrow morning. . .

Misato:  Listen very carefully, Maya. . . I want you to keep unit 02’s core as is.
            Don’t clear the RAM.

Maya:  (confused) You want us to run the test without dumping the previous pilot’s data?

Misato:  Exactly.

Maya:  . .  .

Misato:  And Maya, there’s something else. . .

Maya:  yes?

     (Katsuragi is hesitant, it seems, before she pushes further—
subconsciously biting her lip . . )

Misato:  I want you to Install the contingency system into her entry plug.

     (Almost as soon as she says this, Misato can hear a stifled gasp
at the other end of the line-- )

Maya:  Ma’am, no . . .

Misato:  Maya, this is a direct order.

Maya:  But why---!?

Misato:  I don’t like it either . . . but we have to take precautions. . .

Maya:  Ma’am, the simulator data is not enough to justify –

     (Katsuragi cuts her off, frustrated at her indecisiveness . . )

Misato:  Don’t argue with me, alright!?

Maya: . . .

Misato:  I don’t want to take any chances . . .

Maya:   . . .

Misato:  I . . I know how you feel.  I feel the same way too . . .
            I hate this as much as you do.

Maya: . .

Misato:  But . . . there’s a real chance.

Maya:  even such a small one—

Misato:  Yes.  I have lives to protect.

Maya: . . .

Misato:  You have your orders.

Maya: . . yes ma’am.

     (It is with this final utterance that Misato gently hangs up the
telephone, leaning against the wall with a heavy sigh . . . )

Misato:  (thinking)  What kind of woman am I becoming . . .
                             one that kills children for the consideration
                             of her own life. . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Operator: Understand what?!  Do you have any idea how much that machine cost!!?

     (Elsewhere . . .)

Kensuke:  He’s really sorry sir—he didn’t mean to damage your –

Operator:  Shut up, kid!  I don’t give a damn what he meant to do!
                No idiot in his right mind tries to put his fist through a monitor!
                Not unless you got money coming out your ass!

Touji: . . .

Operator:  We’ll see what your parents are gonna say . .!
                And don’t think I give a damn if you
                are debilitated or whatever the hell it is—

Touji:  (loudly) What did you say to me!?

Shinji: (sighing) . . .

     (Shinji Ikari slouches tediously as the threats begin to issue forth, once again, from the mouth of the swarthy looking arcade operator.   About half a meter away, the target of the unfriendly barrage stands with his head held high—the fury in Touji Suzihara’s eyes is masked only by the uncombed bangs hanging over his forehead. . . )

Shinji:  (sighing) great . . .

     (Ikari sighs again—turning away in frustration as the older man drones on about damage compensation—and finds himself gazing at a figure on the other side of the glass windows which stand at the very front of the establishment.

     Shinji straightens up, rubbing the back of his head as he squints at the person’s face . . . it takes only a second for him to recognize the red hair of the girl standing on the other side of the glass who, seemingly, has been there for a long time.

     As their eyes meet, Shinji barely has the chance to mouth her name before Asuka Soryu turns from the window—walking away from the arcade in a discreet hurry . . .)

Shinji:  Hey!  W-Wait!

Operator: Where the hell are you goin!?

     (the third child pays no attention to the angry shout behind him as he breaks into a run—pushing his way through the front doors into the humid air of the Tokyo 3 mid-afternoon.

     Above, the sky has retained its morose outlook well beyond the apex of the day, as ominously dark clouds churn quietly overhead, and a strangely cool breeze whips through the fabric of Shinji’s school shirt . . )

     (Shinji looks about quickly—turning around twice before realizing, to his dismay,
 the girl has seemingly vanished into thin air . . .)

Shinji:  (quietly) where did she go . . .

     (the child mutters this to himself as he looks about once more half-heartedly, before turning around and entering the arcade once more . . . unawares of the pair of eyes watching from around the corner not ten meters away . . .)

Asuka:  . . .

     (The girl says nothing, however, as she sees him walk back inside the arcade. . .and she kicks herself,     mentally, for reasons that are hers and hers alone . . .)

Asuka:  who’s more afraid now  . . .
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 

     (Meanwhile . . . in a compound located inside one of the gleaming structures suspended high above the Geo-Front interior; a stark, white tower of older construction with a equicentric red cross mounted on its eastern face. . .)

Nurse:  I’ve taken the boy off the medication, as you’ve instructed.

Maya: Good.

Nurse : All the records seem to be in order . . .

Maya:  I’m going in to see him now . . .

Nurse:  Ma’am . . .

Maya:  Yes?

Nurse:  I’m sorry if I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,
            but . . . may I ask . . why  were we given instructions not to
            allow him to play with the other children in the
             recreation area?

     (the chairperson of E-project shakes her head slowly, her thoughts turning to the
young child, alone, in a sterile hospital room . . )

Maya:  The answer is complicated.

Nurse:  I understand that but . . . well, mother to mother, I wanted to ask you . .

     (Maya pauses for a second, then blinks once, as if having been slapped--)

Maya:  excuse me?

     (The young nurse opens her mouth to speak, then stops—turning
red in the face with embarrassment . . )

Nurse:  Oh, I’m sorry Ma’am, you mean you’re not—

     (Ibuki shakes her head, still wide-eyed at the woman’s words . . )

Maya:  No.

     (the R.N. takes a step back, raising her hand to her forehead . . .)

Nurse:  Forgive me, that was really rude of me . . . I’m sorry--

Maya:  It’s alright—

Nurse:  It’s just—the child’s resemblance, and you and that girl—are
             the only one who’s come to visit him . . .

     (Ibuki’s face seems to grow pale at the work "resemblance,"
but she says nothing to its effect, vying only to end the conversation quickly . .)

Maya:  Yes, well . . . I can  . . understand why you may have thought that.  Excuse me.

     (Without a second word, then, Ibuki turns—walking down the south corridor
at a brisk pace . . .leaving the young night nurse standing alone, in a state of mild
bewilderment . . .)

Nurse:  of . .course . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

    (Elsewhere . . .)

    (In the apartment of the child Lyn Anouilh, and his erstwhile Liaison . . .the sound
of cicadas breaks the quiet of the muggy air that pervades the household that, in time,
both have reluctantly come to call home . . .)

Seyoko:  (thinking) Time and again, this place has sought to play God with the lives
                             of its forebear’s own children . . .

     (Seyoko Okazaki stands in the darkness, arms crossed acrimoniously as she
leans on the doorway adjoining the living room to the kitchen . . . she is alone in
her solitude, alone with her thoughts and alone, it seems, with her regrets . . )

Seyoko:  (thinking) A bunch of kids ruining their lives for some bastard’s personal conflict
                               like crusaders running off to die for the holy land. . .
 

     (for, on the floor before her, lie the crumpled and shattered remains
of her laptop—the culmination of her work, she notes with a hint the
unfortunate object of an enraged, unforgiving, unmerciful hand . . .)

Seyoko:  (thinking) What a crock of shit.

     (Seyoko’s thoughts are suddenly interrupted, however, by the sound
of the front door opening—the familiar whoosh of the internal hepafilter
opening, then closing an instant later, allowing the apartment’s other occupant inside . . .)

Lyn: . . .

Seyoko:  Where the hell have you been?  You left this morning without a word,
               you don’t even have school today.

    (The boy is silent—head bowed under the weight of some unbearable truth,
it seems, that is detectable even to Okazaki . . )

Seyoko:  Hey . .what’s wrong with you?

Lyn:  (thinking) Don’t look at me . . .

Lyn: Nothing.

Seyoko:  Don’t lie to me. .  what happened today?

Lyn: (thinking) how . . .how could she!?!? . . .

Seyoko:  Well?  Are you going to answer?

Lyn: Nothing of consequence.

     (The woman scowls, uncrossing her arms with a frustrated grunt . . .)

Seyoko:  You’re just a kid, with trivial problems.

Lyn: (thinking). . . I wish it was that easy .
 
     (the boy does not answer—he merely stands there, his eyes locked
on the somewhat familiar looking pile of ruined plastic and glass strewn
about the floor near the far corner of the room.

    Seyoko realizes what has caught his eye, and looks away, noting with
a vexed voice-)

Seyoko:  My life is fucking over, for all it’s worth.  I’m stuck in this place!
            My future, my career, all of it was worth exactly nothing!

Lyn:  . . .

     (The boy almost looks at her halfheartedly, whispering in a voice
that is nearly unintelligible . . .)

Lyn:  (quietly)  You never used to curse this much.

Seyoko: . . .?  I’ve never been this bad off before!!

     (The girl is a bit taken aback by his remark, cocking her head to
the side as the boy turns away from her, making his way to his room . . .)

Seyoko:  What I say is my business.  What the hell is wrong with you, Anouilh?

Lyn: . . .

 (The sound of a door slamming shut is all the response Lyn Anouilh gives her, however,

 much to her further displeasure . . .)

Seyoko:  HEY!  Don’t you walk away while I’m talking to you!

     (As soon as she says this, another noise—the sound of a heavy piece of
furniture, such as a chair or desk, being dragged and placed in front of the
door—is heard briefly, before all is silent again.)

     (The woman falls back against the wall once more, banging the back of her
head against it in a fettered rage . . .)

Seyoko:  God dammit! . . There is no such thing as good news anymore, is there!??!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Maya:  How do you feel?

Tenkei: . . .  cold.

Maya:  I have good news . . . you will be coming home with me.

Tenkei:. . .

Maya:  What’s the matter?

Tenkei:  You . . . are sad.

Maya:  (thinking)  Empathic . . . exactly as she said he would be. . . but without human contact?

Tenkei:  Are you sad because . . I will be coming with you?

Maya:  Of course not. . .

Tenkei: . . . Where is my other mother?

    (Maya blinks, staring at the boy in a state of bewilderment . . .)

Maya:  Your . . other mother?

    (The boy nods, sliding from the bed onto the cold linoleum floor . . .)

Tenkei:  She protects me . . . like you protect me . . .

Maya:  Ayanami?

    (the child nods . . .)

Maya:  She  is . . . the word is friend, Tenkei . . .

Tenkei: Friend . . .?

Maya:  yes.  one who looks out for you, and . . cares for you.

Tenkei:  Then . . . who is mother?

Maya:  Mother is different.

Tenkei: . . . are you . . ?

    (Ibuki looks down for a moment . . . considering the question . . .)

Maya:  I am . . your guardian now.

    (The boy looks puzzled, gazing up at her questioningly . . .)

Maya:  Do you understand?

    (then, looking downcast, the child nods--stepping toward her slowly . . .)
 
 Tenkei: (quietly) yes . . .
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 (Daybreak, the next morning . . .

     the foreboding clouds which once hung low over the jutting spires of the inner
citadel have, for now, entirely vanished from the sky.  As moisture from the night’s
condensation clings to the windows and hangs in the air, the sun’s light casts hopeful
beams upon the landscape,  wakening the city below from its fleeting and fitful slumber . . .)

     (In a small room, at the back of a house set at the far corner of the lower
residential sector, Aoi Tamashii roles over as light begins to bleed in through
the venetian blinds covering her windows—the girl buries her face in her
pillow, as a single shaft of luminance strikes her cheek. . .

     Seconds later, as she slowly rises to her knees, scratching the edge of her bra with a
tired yawn, the light encroaches further—illuminating an Aoi that is dressed only in
undergarments, in order to allay at least some of the discomfort caused by the humid
heat of the Tokyo 3 nighttime . . .

     As she comes to her feet, however, the girl notices the absence of a familiar feeling
cascade of hair down her back— remembering, with morose dreariness in her eyes,
the previous night’s hardships . .  and as she walks to the window, pulling the cord
that raises the blinds and allows the rest of the morning light to spill inside, she
looks at her reflection in the glass – remembering the previous night’s sacrifice as well. . .

Aoi:  . . .

     (Dark hair no longer drapes over her neck, as shoulder - length curls now
sit where an elegant ponytail once hung.  The girl runs a tentative hand through
her mane, looking at the distorted, semitransparent image in the windowpane
with unfettered disgust . . .)

Aoi:  Maybe I’ll die today.
 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Beneath the streets of the city, underneath the canopy of filtered light,
heavy steel and dense rock that serves as the roof of the Geo-front interior,
a lone monorail transport climbs one of the winding rails that extend from the
cave surface, to the tunnels leading to the world above. . .

     As it speeds by on its long ascent, one would see that the train is, strangely,
almost entirely vacant.  The only explanation for this empty state lies, it seems,
on the front of the transport itself, where a stenciled notice affixed to the front
reads,

 GEOTRAN #3     SPECIAL TRANSPORT
     GOVERNMENT PERSONEL ONLY

Fuyutsuki:  Do the city fathers know you’re leaving?

Gendo:  It’s not important.  It will be for a limited period of time, as I’ve said.

Fuyutsuki:  Three days. . .

Gendo:  Yes.  Yuh’s nothing if not persistent.

Fuyutsuki:  If you don’t mind my saying—

    (Fuyutsuki checks himself, eyeing the man coldly . .. )

Fuyutsuki:  . . . persistent is not the term I’d use-

Gendo:  Even so, he’s managed to find some information that has
            proven to be of use to him.

Fuyutsuki:  Because it is useful to you.

Gendo:  Exactly.

Fuyutsuki:  (smirking)  His great secret.  He’s clinging to whatever he can
                                    to gain some sway with you.

Gendo:  Give a man time, in his desperation, he’ll find something.

Fuyutsuki:  Has he told you anything more since you last spoke?

Gendo:  He insists on waiting until we meet in person.

Fuyutsuki:  A paranoid fellow.

Gendo:  He knows better than to hold out, unless he has found something
            of real importance.

Fuyutsuki:  You trust him?

Gendo:  Of course not.

Fuyutsuki:  Then why the trouble?

Gendo:  Because a man like Yuh knows that once he has exhausted
            my patience, he will have no hope of getting what he is after.

Fuyutsuki: . . .

     (The older man nods, tilting his gaze to the deceptively blissful scenery outside.
As the silhouettes of the track and surrounding scaffolds and support structures
whip by, the geofront interior is momentarily illuminated by the sunlight from the
lattice-like photogates in the cave roof, which strike and are reflected off of the
surface of the massive internal lake and its adjoining pyramid and spire with a
blinding brilliance. . . )

Fuyutsuki:  Has his request changed since we dealt with him last . .?

Gendo:  No.

     (Kouzou gives a detestful snort . . )

Fuyutsuki:  Please . . . The man is acting like fool.  There is no proof that
                 whatsoever of the efficacy of his "theories."   He is not even a scientist . . .

Gendo:  When a man is confronted with the problem he wishes to solve,
            it is usually only a matter of time until he resigns himself to fate’s whim.

    (Ikari looks at the other man with a stony countenance--)

Gendo:  But when that problem involves his child . . .HIS child . . .
 
Fuyutsuki:  So you doubt the legitimacy of his claims?

Gendo:  . . . Not entirely.  But they do little to further our cause.
            The gathering of "pertinent data," as it were, is no longer
            NERV’s purpose . . or, for that matter, the Marduke’s . . .

Fuyutsuki:  Hmph.  Still, I wonder . . . even to him, for all the misfortune this
                has caused him . . is a child really worth it?

Gendo: . . .

Fuyutsuki:  Then again, I’m not asking the right person . . am I?

     (Ikari does not respond, however . . . seemingly disregarding his subordinate’s words
as he retains his gaze on the subterranean complex below as it grows vague and hazy
in the distance . . . )

Fuyutsuki:  What do you intend to do about Major Katsuragi?
                You know she’s taken charge of the synch test with the
                seventh child this afternoon . . .

Gendo: You don’t trust her, I gather.

Fuyutsuki:  There was the incident in the old city. ..

Gendo:  The Major knows her responsibilities.  Our losses in old Tokyo
            would have been greater, had she chosen to follow standard operating
            procedures.  The Ev.N Complement and unit 00 are well worth her
            insubordination.

Fuyutsuki:  Hmph.

Fuyutsuki: (thinking) How hesitant you are to mention the fact that
                                she also saved Rei’s life . . .

Gendo:  Oversee the synchronization procedure, but don’t
            interfere unless there are problems.

Fuyutsuki:  I understand.  It will be in Katsuragi’s hands.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (meanwhile . . .)

Misato:  Shinji!  Did you hear me?  It’s time to wake up!

     (An inaudible grumble is all that is heard from the hallway leading
to Shinji Ikari’s bedroom, As Major Katsuragi tosses her hair back—
pulling at the edge of her tank-top while fanning herself with her left hand . . .)

Shinji:  (muffled) . . .

Misato:  I can’t hear you . . look, just get your butt out of bed, okay?
            We’ve got work to do today and I can’t afford to be late . . .

     (a moment later, a tired-eyed Shinji Ikari emerges from the corridor,
scratching his neck drearily)

Shinji:  Since when did you become so punctual . . .?

Misato:  Times change, Shinji, I thought you’d be used to it by now.

Shinji:  (mumbling) times don’t change . .people change . .

Misato:  What was that?

Shinji:  nothing . . .

Misato:  look, have a seat already, I need to get dressed . . .

Shinji:  Don’t . .you need me to cook?

Misato:  You don’t have to, I already did.

     (Ikari freezes—staring at his guardian in a mute
state of  dumfoundment . . .)

Shinji:  You . . . Cooked?

Misato:  Don’t look so shocked.

Shinji:  No, but . .wait . .isn’t today Asuka’s turn to-

     (Misato, however, shakes her head . . .)

Misato:  Asuka doesn’t want to talk to us right now.  At least, not to me.

Shinji:  . . .

Misato:  Now . . hurry up and eat your breakfast.

Shinji:  I’m not hungry.

     (Katsuragi looks at him for a moment, then shrugs . .)

Misato:  Alright then.  I’m going to go change.  Be ready in the next ten minutes

     (As the woman walks from the room, Ikari watches her go before
dropping his eyes to the small, avian creature hunched over its feed
bowl in the corner.
 
     Pen Pen’s face lay buried in the dark brown soup, seemingly unawares of the
grim mood pervading the kitchen . . .

    For a moment, recalling that Misato is the one who cooked, Shinji tenders the
question of whether or not the bird is actually breathing . . . dipping his
finger in the large bowl of Miso soup that has been carefully set on the
table before him, Ikari takes a tentative taste . . .

. . . one he quickly regrets . . .)

Shinji:  (gagging) some things . .don’t  . change . .kkh ..

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Seyoko: (into the phone) No, I’m pretty sure.  Lyn left early this morning.

     (Elsewhere . . . in the apartment of the 6th child . . .Seyoko Okazaki
stands, dressed in a rather conservative nightgown, in the main living room.
The handset of a small, portable telephone pressed to her ear, the woman
walks to the balcony as she speaks)

Seyoko:  Yes I’m sure!  Look, who is this?

     (There is a momentary pause--)

Seyoko: Are you one of his classmates?

     (The woman stops to listen again, only to frown in consternation . .)

Seyoko:  No, I don’t think he’ll be at school today.  I’ll leave him a message.
             What was your name again?

     (Okazaki listens for a moment, then pulls her ear away as the line
is suddenly disconnected . . .)

Seyoko:  Wh—

     (The woman looks at the phone for a moment, then at the city
spread out before her . . )

Seyoko:  Who the hell is "Aoi" ?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Simultaneously, across the city, the answer to that question sets
down the receiver of her telephone, drawing her knees to her
chest in silent dread . . )

Aoi:  (quietly) This can’t be good.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Meanwhile .  .  .)

     (A small, red sports coup speeds down the mountain Highway
leading to the restricted areas surrounding the inner citadel of Tokyo 3.
Though the posted speed limit is 80 KPH, the car’s driver seems to
either be in a tremendous hurry . ..

     or, rather, she simply does not care .   .  .)

Misato:  What’s wrong with you today?

Shinji:  Why isn’t Asuka taking her tests?

Misato: . . .

Shinji:  You said . . . she was still EVA-02’s pilot.

Misato:  Asuka . .is technically on leave.

Shinji: . . . does she know?

     (Katsuragi cannot answer –opting instead to turn the oncoming
corner abruptly, causing the small coup to lurch to the right with a
squeal of rubber against the tarmac . . .)

Shinji: . . !

Misato:  Sorry . . .

Shinji:  . . .

Misato:  . . .

Shinji: . .

Misato:  you know . . you’re father left the city this morning.

Shinji:  Why?

Misato:  I didn’t hear too much . . .only that it was classified . . .

Shinji: . . .

Misato: (thinking) This isn’t the silent Shinji I know . . .
                            something is wrong . . .

Shinji: . . .

Misato:  Is there something wrong . . ?

Shinji:  well . . .

     (The boy looks at her hesitantly, then turns his eyes back to the road .  .  .)

Shinji:  Is it true . . . that you’re testing a new pilot today?

     (Shinji barely has the chance to finish his question when,
without warning, the boy’s body is suddenly thrown against
his seatbelt as Katsuragi slams on the breaks, bringing the
vehicle to a screeching halt . . .)

Shinji: . . !

Misato:  How did you know?! Who told you—

Shinji:  K-Kensuke’s father—he—he mentioned it a while ago to him, and—

Misato:  (sighing)  It’s supposed to be a secret.

     (The woman shakes her head, shifting the car into first gear
before hitting the accelerator once again, sending the auto lurching forward . . . )

Shinji:  . . . why didn’t you tell me?  Or . . .

Misato:  I think you know why.

Shinji: . . . He’s going to replace Asuka, isn’t he.

 (Katsuragi is quiet, considering her words carefully as the boy watches on . . .)

Misato:  The pilot is being selected as a backup . . . to use in the event the second
            child becomes incapacitated, or unable to synchronize with the EVA.
            The assumption you made is the reason I’ve kept it a secret from you two.

Shinji:  You can’t keep it like that forever . . .

Misato:  Asuka has enough stress in her life as it is.  That goes for you, too.  As your
             superior, I am entitled to keeping a little information from you for your
            own good.  It’s my duty . . .

     (The boy looks down with narrow eyes, uttering spitefully . . .)

Shinji:  (quietly) What about your duty as our Guardian . . .

     (Misato says nothing, watching as the familiar, dimly lit tunnel entrance
to the car-train transport station comes into view. . .)

     (Ikari is equally silent, the woman’s silence speaking more than mere words  . . .)

     (Then . . .)

Misato:  It’s a she.

Shinji: . . .?

Misato:  The pilot, is a she. . . one of your classmates.

Shinji:  who . . .?

Misato:  Aoi Tamashii.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 
     (elsewhere . . . in the parking area behind the apartment complex
that houses the Major and her charges . . .)

Asuka:  Why the hell would you think I care?!

Lyn: . . .

Asuka:  You dragged me down to this stupid place to tell me that flirty bitch is
             going to become a pilot!?  What kind of misplaced scruples put that kind of
             shit in your head!

Lyn:  Look, I had to tell someone, and you’re the only one here that I thought would c—

Asuka:  Shut up, alright!?  Shut up!

     (The girl turns away, burying her face in her hand--)

Asuka: (thinking) This can’t be happening!!!

Lyn:  Isn’t there any way to put a stop to it . . .?

Asuka:  How the hell would I know!?  I’ll be lucky if they ever put me in that goddamn plug again!

Lyn:  Look, I could care less about you and your bloody inadequacies, alright!?  I told you
         because someone had to, and I had no one else to go to—

Asuka:  Why the hell are you so worried!?  You could care less whether you pilot or not!

Lyn:  But I don’t want HER to pilot!

Asuka: (thinking)  How could you?  How could you!?

Asuka:  The hell with you!  Stupid, English tart!
            First you ruin my last chance at
             piloting—

Lyn:  I watched the record, Asuka!  Way to follow orders, That was your own faul—

Asuka: (interrupting) Now you want to rub it in my FACE!

     (The boy stops—closing his eyes and exhaling in frustration . . .)

Lyn:  Look . . . unless you want to listen to what I have to say,
        then go back to your damned arcade.

Asuka: . . ?  How the hell do you know about that—

Lyn:  I walk her to school in the morning, remember?!  It’s on the way to her house.
         I’ve seen you there every day since we got back . . . except yesterday.

Asuka: . . .

Lyn:  I may not be psychic, but I can tell when someone is hiding!

Asuka:  Stay the hell out of my life, sixth child!

Lyn:  Stop!

     (Asuka is startled to find that, incredibly, the boy has taken hold of her shoulder--)

Lyn:  First . .  tell me what was in there!

Asuka:  In Where--!?

     (The girl twists, knocking his arm free in disgust . . )

Lyn:  In Unit 02.

Asuka:  What?

     (Lyn Anouilh glares at her, speaking with deliberation . . .)

Lyn:  When I was PUT inside your EVA . . . there was something in there.

Asuka:  You’re an idiot. . .

Lyn:  There was something in there.  I don’t know what the hell it was but I could feel it,
          and don’t tell me it’s normal because unit 06 wasn’t the same. . .

Asuka:  You don’t know anything!  It was the pilot data, Dumkopf, of the person who was
            supposed to be in there!

Lyn:  No.  They deleted your RAM when put me in.  they had to, or else I wouldn’t have
         been able to pilot that  . . . monstrosity.

Asuka:  You’re making no sense at all!

Lyn:  It was like . . . It was SOMETHING. And it felt like YOU.

Asuka:  What kind of—

Lyn:  Connected to you.  But . . . it was more like feeling . . .

Asuka: . . . . .

     (The girl, at last, falls silent . . . listening reluctantly to the boy’s words . . .)

Lyn:  Like . . fear.  some kind of . . anxious . .pain . . . Bloody hell I can’t put it into words.

Asuka: . . .

Lyn:  Whatever it was . . . It made me glad to get out of that entry plug.

Asuka:  What do you want from me.

Lyn:  It didn’t feel right, whatever it was.  I want to know if you felt it too.

Asuka: . . .

Lyn: . . .

Asuka:  No.

Lyn:  You’re lying.

Asuka:  I got no reason to.

Lyn:  I don’t want Aoi to get hurt.

Asuka:  that makes one of us.

Lyn: . . .

Asuka: . . .

     (It is in a stark, uncomfortable silence that the second child
takes leave of her "teammate,"   leaving the boy watching, in dismay,
as she walks away . . .)

Lyn:  (Shouting)  What kind of girl are you?  hiding behind
                        corners like some kind of criminal!!

Asuka: . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Technician A:  Do you feel any pain?  Any sort of discomfort?

Aoi:  No, Ma’am.

Technician A:  Just relax, don’t let your mind wander.
                      You need to concentrate on the procedure.  Alright?

Aoi:  A-alright.

Technician B:  Ma’am, we’re ready to begin . . .

Maya:.  Begin the startup procedure.

     (The hum of the internal power systems of the massive, recently-repaired
unit 02 is audible even through the reinforced steel and glass of the
observation booth hanging high above the head of the EVA. The
scarlet behemoth stands, tethered by thick lockbolts, against the interior
wall of the test cell. )

     ( Within its well-protected confine, a complete team of nearly twenty
technicians and operations personnel move to their stations, Maya Ibuki
stands at the fore of the commotion—Her superior officer, Misato
Katsuragi, behind it all; standing at a vantage point which is meant to
afford someone in her position the chance, if they so choose,
to overlook without interfering . . .

     Judging from the look of seriousness on her face, however, such an event seems unlikely . . .)

Announcer:  Attention:  The test shall commence in T-Minus 1 minute and counting.
                All cage crews must report to their emergency Lockdown positions. . .

Misato:  Asuka’s RAM is still in there?

Maya:  Yes ma’am.

Technician A:  Main power supply functioning within the standard range-

Maya:  (loudly) Start the activation system.

Yuri:  Affirmative.  Activation system starting

Technician A:  Voltage increasing . . .

Yuri:  T-minus 45 seconds . . .

Misato:  (quietly). . . No turning back.

Technician A:  Voltage approaching the critical point—0.3 . . 0.6 . . .

Maya:  (flatly) Begin the second phase of the activation system . .
                    and reroute secondary power to the contingency system.
                    Maintain a direct voltage build between it and the primary
                     power activation procedure.

Yuri:  Understood. . .

Misato: . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

    (Meanwhile . . .)

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  How could you!?

Aoi: . . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  Why!?  Do you have any idea how
                                much danger you’re placing yourself in?!

Aoi: . . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  Do you think I want you to risk
                                your life for my benefit?!

Aoi: . . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn: How could you!?

Aoi:  I had to . . . it was the only way to protect . . . 6, I--

     (A quiet plea is all that Aoi Tamashii can utter, before
the sound of the entry plug’s online mode begins to fill the
small compartment, drowning out the girl’s anguish . . . as
the power systems hum to life, the true sixth child finds only
a cold, darkness within has followed her from the world outside . . .)

Aoi:  Eva . . . unit 02

     -(flashback)-Lyn:  please don’t do this!

Aoi:  Eva . . .A name . . .

     -(flashback)-Lyn:  Aoi, I’m begging you!
 
Aoi:  A name like my mother’s . . .

Yuri: Beginning system phase II . . .

 Aoi:  6 .  . . why are you here with me now?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Technician A:  Synapses have been inserted.  Junction started—

Yuri:  Pulses transmitted . . .

Technician A: All circuits nominal . .

Yuri: No backflow detected yet . . . Initial contact is experiencing no problems . . .

Technician A:  We are ready to transfer power to the EVAs secondary systems . ..

Misato:  Belay that.

Yuri:  Ma’am?

Maya:  Watch the energy feed, but Keep unit 02 on minimal power.
           Continue the procedure . .

Yuri:  Understood . . . transferring to secondary systems on low gain . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Aoi:  (thinking) You’re here . . .
 

Aoi: (thinking)But you’re not in this . . . place . . .
 

Aoi: (thinking)Please . .please don’t be angry with me . . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  How could you!?

Aoi: (thinking)Please . . don’t stop loving me . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  How could you!?

Aoi: (thinking)Please don’t hate me . . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  How could you!?

Aoi: (thinking)I have no choice . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  How could you!?

Aoi: (thinking)I have no choice . .

    -(flashback)-Lyn:  HOW COULD YOU!?

Aoi: (thinking) I have no free will . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuri:  Pulse flow is critical . . . approaching absolute borderline . . .!

Misato:  (thinking)  If there is any fairness left in this world . . .

Yuri:  1.3,
          1.2,
           0.9,
           0.7,
           0.6,
           0.3,
            0.1  . . . !

Technician A:  The third stage is commencing—synch index rising . . .

Yuri:  6 percent . . . 7 percent . . . 12 percent . . .

Maya:  . . .

     (It is then, to Major Katsuragi’s further uneasiness, that
Maya Ibuki casts a cold glance at her . . . sending a shiver
down Misato’s spine that disconnects her, for an instant,
from the deciding moment about to take place . . .

    before, without warning, a shrill, high pitched whine fills the air . . .)

Misato:  (shouting) What the hell!?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Aoi:  (thinking) Please . .  please forgive me.  I’m only doing my best . . .

Voice:  how could you do this to me?  to us?

Aoi:  (thinking) I’m trying . . God, I’m trying!

Lyn's voice:  Aoi, this isn’t the right thing to do!!

Aoi: (thinking)  I have to protect what I love . . I have to protect—!

Voice:  This isn’t an act of love!

Aoi:  M . . My . . . I have a duty . . to perform . .!

Lyn's voice:  I don’t want you to die!

Aoi:  I’m trying . . . I  . . .have to!!

Voice:  Don’t look back!

Voice:  Don’t be distracted by pain!

Voice:  Move forward!

Lyn's voice:  What is this pain?

Voice:  Move forward!

Lyn's voice:  Is this guilt?

Voice:  Move forward!

Aoi: (Thinking) I can’t let him die . .!

Voice:  Move forward!

Aoi: (Thinking) I can’t let him die . .!

Voice:  How could you?!

Aoi: (Thinking) I can’t let him die . .!

Voice:  Move forward!

Aoi: (Thinking) I’m not strong enough anymore!!!

Voice:  Move forward!

Aoi: (Thinking) I CAN’T LET HIM DIE !!!

Voice:  EVA

Aoi:  Mother . .  Sister . .

Voice:  . . .

Aoi: (Thinking) I have no choice!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Inside the control area . . . the crew of the observation booth
has fallen into an eerie silence, as Misato Katsuragi calls above the
din of test equipment that has, without warning, begun to blare
an unfamiliar whine . . .)

Misato:  What’s happened?!

Maya:  Can you verify !?

Yuri:  It's been confirmed –
 
     (As Yuri Furikawa scans the information materializing below her fingertips,
Misato bites her lip—unable to take her eyes off of the large, flat button that
controls the plug fail-safe mechanism . . .)

Maya: . . ?

Misato: . . .?

Yuri:  The Synch ratio has stopped at 19%.  Interference from the
          sixth-child’s RAM is disrupting pulse flow . . .

Technician A: . . . The Magi suggest immediate shut down, to avoid pulse overload!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Aoi:  Forgive me . . . all of you . . .

     (the girl buries her head in her hands as the pain of regret wrenches
its way through her stomach . . .)

Aoi:  (thinking)  I’m sorry, Lyn . . . I’m so sorry . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

     (Inside the observation booth, a monotic whine continues to fill the air, emitted from the Synchrograph indicator’s small speaker as the numbers remain unchanged . . .)

Maya:  . . .
 
Misato: Lyn’s RAM?

Maya:  Of course . . . from the last mission . . . I guess we neglected to replace it with
            the second child's!

    (Katsuragi looks at the woman with a mask of incredulity, before shaking her head--turning her
eyes once more toward the EVA bolted to the chamber far below . . .)

Misato:  It doesn’t matter . . . how is the pilot?

Yuri:  Vital signs remain unchanged.

     (Misato Katsuragi breaths a heavy sigh of relief, much to the
puzzlement of the staff and crew assembled in the small room . . . indeed,
it would seem that no one understands from where this woman can find
something positive in an activation test that has been, for all intents and purposes, a failure . . .

     All but one, however . . .)

Maya:  Major . . .

Misato:  . . .

Maya:  Is this enough?

     (Katsuragi looks at the younger woman, only to find an unexpected
sympathy in her eyes. Misato nods, managing a weak smile for the
chairperson of E Project . . .)

Misato:  Yeah . . . you can start over now.

     (Ibuki simply nods, turning back to the task at hand . . . within seconds,
the air grows quiet once more, as Maya begins to deliver new instructions
to her team . . )

Maya:  (to the staff) We’re starting over.  Dump the current core, load the
                                information gathered this morning on the seventh qualified child . . .
 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption:

     CHINA

Gendo:  I will not argue with the necessity, but your choice
            of rendezvous point is hardly . .subtle.

Yuh:  You are not familiar with the Pearl of Asia?

     ( A massive, concave Radio-satellite receiver dish, nearly 300 meters in
Diameter, rests atop an equally imposing scaffold, rising high above the center
of a dense tropical forest.  The titanic structure is complemented by three
more smaller ones, similar in build though not in immensity, to the primary
radio telescope. . . In the distance, the faint haze of the midday air obscures
the image of a large city set beyond fields of rice-patties . . .

    It is in the shadow of these buildings that two figures walk, unhurried,
through the grounds of the aging observation compound . . .The older and
shorter of the two grasping the handrail as they come to a stop on a
catwalk-terrace overlooking the entire grounds . . . )
 

Gendo:  I have been to Hong Kong before . . . on numerous occasions.

Yuh:  Ah, but this . . . this place.  Do you know where we are?

Gendo:   No.

Yuh:  This preserve, and observation center, are all that remains of the
        original S.E.T.I. expansion program that was launched in 1994.
         This was one of the only compounds that was in service
        when the second impact took place, and actually stored data on the event. . . !

Gendo: . . .

Yuh:  It’s all that remains of the original organization since the Marduk took
        over . . . the search for life on other planets was always a passion of
        mine, in my younger days . . .

 (the man winces, waving his hand at the decaying structure before them. . .)

Yuh:  These days, They are focused on tracking "angels" for Seele’s great
        designs. . . the name S.E.T.I. means nothing anymore, not even as an
        acronym.  Even the original center in New Mexico is gone . . .
        Nameless and soulless, like everything else associated with the Marduk!

Gendo:  . . . Yuh, We must get down to business.  My time here is short.

     (strangely, the shorter man laughs, shaking his head slowly . . .)

Yuh:  You have no idea.

     (Ikari is stone faced as the man turns around, leaning on the
railing while drawing a small packet from his coat and handing
it to the Nerv commander . . .)

Yuh:  I think those images will spell out most of what I would otherwise have to say . . .

     (Gendo pulls the pictures from the envelope, only to find hazy
and almost indistinguishable photos that number few . . .)

Gendo:  there is not much here . .

Yuh:  Be satisfied.  Those were nearly impossible to obtain.

Gendo:  Your influence not as far reaching as you would like . . .

Yuh:  But opportunities arose . . .

     (Ikari looks at Yuh, straightening his glasses . . .)

Gendo:  I’m listening.

Yuh:  First, guarantee  your cooperation . . .

Gendo:  You know that what you ask will most likely yield nothing.

Yuh:  After ten years of nothing, I am willing to risk yet more of what I already have.

Gendo:  Very well.

     (The older man seems to straighten up, indicating an obscure
image that has been encircled in red upon each of the pictures Ikari holds . . .)

Yuh:  Your suspicions were correct.  Not only does it exist, but it has been rebuilt.

Gendo:  Your source-

Yuh:  Reliable.  Someone with access to higher members of the cabinet.

Gendo:  How long?

Yuh:  six months.

Gendo: . . .

Yuh:  But that is not my reason for bringing you here.

Gendo: . . . go on.

Yuh:  My source . . . had received word of a rumor circulating inside
         their intelligence sector . . . that rumor was later verified by the sudden
         authorization of increased spending on the project—
         A budget increase of over 6 hundred billion dollars. . .
         now, these days, congress does not normally approve
        of spending money it does not have on research and development of high
         weapons technology, unless the sum is below 2 billion . . . You may recall
         the controversy over the funding of their F-22 fighter plane 16 years ago?

Gendo: . . .

Yuh:  It is no surprise that the United States is still utilizing 20th
          century technology today . . . that’s what
          makes this budget increase so suspect!

Gendo: . . Yuh--

Yuh:  (interrupting) They are working independent of Seele, and most higher
                              levels of their own government. And it seems they have a
                                singular goal . . .

Gendo:  Which is?

     (The man grows quiet, looking at Ikari with disdain . . .)

Yuh:  I’m not sure . . . but whatever it is, it involves your organization.
         NERV.

Gendo: . . .

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
 
     (Meanwhile . . . in a dimly lit corridor outside the Girl’s lockers,
located deep within the pilot control center of the NERV subcomplex . . .)

Misato:  I think . . congratulations are in order . . . 36% isn’t bad for the first time out.

Aoi: (quietly). . yes ma’am?

     (Misato Katsuragi extends her hand to the plug-suited girl standing
before her—brushing away a strand of damp hair, Aoi takes it delicately . . .)

Misato:  Welcome aboard, Aoi.

Aoi:  (quietly) thank you, ma’am . . .

     (As the major returns her hand to her side, she seems to notice the
girl’s mirthless state.  Indeed, Aoi leans against the wall of the hallway
with her head and shoulders bowed, as if burdened by some new,
unforeseen weight . . .)

Misato:  Are you going to be okay?

Aoi:  Yeah . .I’m just tired . . .that’s all.

Misato:  Okay . . . the weather topside isn’t too good.
             Do you want a ride home?

Aoi:  No.  . .I’ll manage.

     (As Katsuragi turns to take her leave, she pauses halfway to
the entrance to the corridor – calling over her shoulder . . .)

Misato:  You can call me . .if you have any problems . . .

Aoi: . . .

     (Tamashii looks up at the woman.  Misato manages a reassuring
smile, before turning around and continuing on her way . . .)

Aoi: . . .

     (As the door shuts with a hiss behind the Major, however, the
girl slouches—sliding down the wall to the floor, her face buried in
her hands . . . )

Aoi:  (thinking)  I didn’t want to make you hate me . . .

     It is nearly a minute, before the sounds of choked sobs echo through the corridor . . .

     It is also then, however, that another figure becomes apparent
in the darkness . . . emerging from the doorway to the girl’s locker
room with the silence and subtlety of a draft, making her totally
undetectable to the child on the floor not 6 meters away . . .

     Rei Ayanami stands reticent, watching as the girl (unaware
of her presence) struggles to keep her tears inside—wiping her eyes
furiously as the tears continue to spill forth . . .

     For countless minutes, the first child can hear Aoi Tamashii’s laments . . .
her nearly expressionless face turned away from the girl, Ayanami listens
closely, before considering to herself, quietly, the words that she can
barely make out between the child’s  soft cries . . .)

    (words that, despite their simplicity, do not make sense . . .)

Rei:  (thinking). . It’s . . raining?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
    (Nearly three hours later . . .)

    (A bright beam of sunlight breaking from between the looming storm-clouds above
momentarily blinds eyes that have only once before seen the day from the surface, as a
small figure--dressed in roughly oversized standard issue clothing-- emerges from behind the 3 foot thick
steel doorway separating central dogma from the world of Tokyo-3 above.

    A shock of white hair that is held back by the rim of a NERV issue technician's hat, and the pale, saffron complexion of the exposed skin of his face and hands being the only indication of the his identity, Tenkei
shuffles cautiously; covering his eyes from the offending light with but a whimper. Next to him, Maya Ibuki stands--his hand in hers as they walk by the single posted security guard at the entrance . . .

    The boy says nothing as she leads him briskly down the street, in the direction of a specially-ordered transport sedan bearing the familiar UN insignia upon its side.  Indeed, not a word passes between
either of the two as the driver of the vehicle--a surly man dressed in a suit as pitch black as the
car he is to drive--opens the door for them both.

    With but a moment's hesitation, Ibuki lifts the boy into the car--buckling him tightly into the middle
seat before getting in herself . . . strangely, as the man closes the door on the two, Maya finds herself
unable to take her eyes from the unique child that now accompanies her. . .

    His orders well recieved, the NERV officer immediately takes his place behind the wheel,
shifting the government car into gear before quickly and quietly driving off. . .

    His destination, which shall be reached in nearly defeating silence:

    the place that Maya Ibuki calls home . . .)
 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued . . .