Chapter 24: The People Left Behind

Chapter 24:
The People Left Behind

 

OBJECTS EVERYWHERE on the Earth were no longer moving as they should have been.

People first noticed when the number of traffic accidents began to skyrocket. Everyday things, from cars to tap water, began turning, or stopping and starting, in new and unpredictable ways.

Unable to disperse their kinetic energy, ocean waves began reaching higher and farther inland than had previously been thought possible. The cause was simple physics. Between the Earth’s loss of mass and its shrinking circumference, gravity had observably weakened.

As a consequence, despite whatever urgency they felt in their hearts, humans were now forced to slow down.

 

In the Hakone Caldera, now geographically stranded in the strait where the Izu Peninsula used to be, supplies were beginning to arrive through the hastily constructed Daikan Airport, and the reconstruction efforts were finally taking shape.

Super Eva and Shinji were still missing, but they were known to be alive. One day, about half a month earlier, little Ayanami Rei Six had suddenly let out a squeak, as if someone had put a pickled plum in her mouth, and she made a surprise announcement.

“Ikari-kun’s eating a tart red fruit with Quatre.”

The Ayanamis’ mental link had only been sporadically present, either due to a malfunction or their new self-awareness. This momentary reconnection gave Six the knowledge that Shinji and Quatre were together—but not where.

Still, even knowing that they were out there somewhere, alive, was good news.

Maybe next time Six could locate the pair, and a search party could be sent out.

But when anyone asked Six about Ayanami Trois, whom the Security Intelligence Department had failed to find after her disappearance in North Africa, the girl always said she hadn’t heard anything.

And she always added, “I think she’s closed herself away.”

 

A location in Russia had been chosen to launch the counteroffensive against Earth’s enemies, and the Euro military would be leading the assault. But the exact composition of the multinational force was still up in the air, and consequently, a date had yet to be chosen.

Crimson A1—the Asuka/Eva synthesis—still showed no concern for the affairs of society. She circled the skies above Nerv HQ slowly, as if going for a lazy swim.

“How is she making such a good sound?” Ibuki Maya asked.

The chief scientist was talking about the hum of the cascading graviton floaters that gave Asuka/Eva flight.

Asuka had flown to the moon courtesy of the angular, mechanical Allegorica wings. Now those wings had fused with the Eva’s N2 reactors into a far more compact form as part of the giant’s long, flowing hair. The harsh, dissonant drone of the Allegorica wings had been replaced by a beautiful refrain that harmonized with the wind.

The wings should have lost efficiency in the transformation, but they were more effective than ever before. If this had been the product of some power beyond human comprehension, Maya might not have been bothered, but the wings had been created through human innovation, technological expertise, and rigorous calculations. For some cheap trick to come along, miniaturize the wings, and make them more efficient was, from an engineer’s perspective—

“Unacceptable.” Maya rolled her shoulders with a frustrated sigh.

That’s just how it is, she told herself.

In the Eva-related fields, knowing when to let go was vitally important. Countless distinguished figures had burned out trying to decipher an indecipherable puzzle.

 

Maya entered the cage where the engineering team was giving Eva-00 Type-F’s Allegorica system its final adjustments. The work was part of Nerv Japan’s preparation for their role in the counteroffensive, but developing the system was in their best interests either way. Nerv HQ currently had no other Eva at their disposal.

The Type-F configuration turned part of the Eva’s body structure into a specialized weapons platform. Notably, the Eva was missing one leg, which restricted its movement. The Allegoric Wings would compensate for this.

Nerv Japan could have remotely recalled Six’s Eva-0.0 from orbit, or sent a pilot up to it, but the Eva would have to be respec’ed for use on land all the same. Plus, Six was assigned to Eva-00 Type-F anyway. Even with another Evangelion on hand, they’d be a pilot short.

As Crimson A1 drifted lazily overhead, the Asuka/Eva hybrid’s wings offered inspiration for Eva-00’s design.

 

Asuka/Eva had come home with nothing but a single blue book.

Shinji had given Asuka the book, a collection of marine life photographs, to help her pass the time on her reconnaissance-in-force mission to the moon. During the synthesis between Asuka and her Eva, the book alone had retained its original shape, although a great volume of data had been written into its pages.

In the command center, Maya presented a report on her team’s analysis of the book, with the main screen providing visual aid.

“Of course,” the chief scientist was saying, “Asuka didn’t write this data by hand. The book had dissolved in the chaotic stream of information and was reconstructed, incorporating the data into its pages. Now, the contents of that data were written in what can only be called a new language, created by Asuka’s subconscious. The language itself changes as it goes along, which makes the translation quite difficult.”

Of everything Misato, Fuyutsuki, and Toji had learned from Asuka’s journey—including that the moon’s expansion was due to Armaros taking matter from deep within the Earth and depositing it on the moon—the book was the part they had the most trouble understanding.

“The data includes, in a compressed form, the things Asuka witnessed at her final destination at the far side of the moon,” Maya explained.

The picture on the main screen switched to a 3D reconstruction of Asuka’s memories and Eva-02’s sensor data. A massive, blue structure made of many cubes was half-buried in the lunar surface.

Misato had seen the same thing in Africa.

“The Ark?” she asked.

“What?!” Toji gasped. “That’s the Ark?”

Beads of light collected on the structure’s surface, then slid down to the lunar soil and took the shape of a small Angel. A mass of Angel Carriers’ arms sprouted from the ground, grasping for it.

“What, is that the enemy’s main base?” Misato asked.

Maya shook her head. “That’s what Asuka thought. If only it were. The structure doesn’t just contain the Angels’ information. Stored within those cubes is the data for everything needed to start our world. When Asuka flew her Eva inside, she was absorbed into it.”

“The data for everything?” Misato repeated.

“What did you see that night in Africa?” Maya asked.

Misato thought back to that one-night orgy of evolution.

At the beginning, a giant jumble, unidentifiable as either Asuka or her Eva, had run past Misato, and then the colossal rock formations began transforming.

“Life-forms of every kind rose from the surface,” Misato said.

“While Asuka’s consciousness was swallowed within that swarm of information,” Maya said, “she wrote one last note explaining the true nature of the Ark. Whether it’s a fact or her conjecture, I can’t say. But this is what she left for us: ‘The Ark contains the saved data of all life, so that each attempt of the as-yet-unsuccessful Instrumentality Project can be made in tens of thousands of years, rather than hundreds of millions.’”

The black giant Armaros had made his pronouncement though the Ayanamis’ voices, while across Europe, many people—not a great many, but enough—heard Armaros’ voice inside their heads and repeated his message. Namely that a great flood would clear the stage so that the next curtain could rise.

One interpretation of this message was that Earth was perpetually proceeding toward fulfillment of the Instrumentality Project, like a stack of rocks toppling over only to be rebuilt anew, stone by stone. But Asuka’s note suggested something else.

“Good God,” Fuyutsuki said. “The path of evolution isn’t natural to our present world but a shortened reconstruction of some distant past. Why do I suddenly feel like everything around us is a matte painting on a movie set?”

“Why is there another on the moon?” Hyuga demanded.

“And what?” Aoba followed. “Next time around, the moon will be the Earth?”

Toji remembered something else as he looked at the book’s contents. In his brief reunion with Hikari, she’d told him, “But amid that mishmash, her mother’s soul tried to protect her by overwriting portions of the Eva with parts that were Asuka.”

So, he thought, Not only did Soryu make it past the Longinus Curtain, she tried to leave a record of every single thing she saw on the moon.

“Damn show-off.”

Oh crap, I said that out loud.

The adults all turned to him with confused expressions, but he forged ahead. “Let’s say we can’t do anything about that world-creating jack-in-the-box for now. What about splitting Soryu and the Eva apart?”

The question was on everyone’s minds, but they all were too afraid to ask.

Maya drew in a sharp breath and shook her head. “It doesn’t look good. As far as we can tell, she’s still carrying the information for a significant number of organisms. Even just from a raw data standpoint, Magi-2 still hasn’t been able to disentangle them all.”

“I was under the impression that everything had left during that stampede,” Misato said.

“The majority stayed dormant and never came to the surface, but they’ve influenced her genetic structure. Her DNA is a complete mess.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Misato asked.

Maya thought for a moment. “Let’s reach out to Nerv U.S. They’ve been working on genetically modifying pilot candidates in order to create pilots the Evangelions will deem worthy.”

“What kind of modifications are we talking?”

“I don’t know the details, but it has something to do with simplifying the thought patterns shared between the Eva and its pilot. They’ve been splicing animal DNA into both.”

“Commander Ikari knew about that project,” Fuyutsuki cut in. “In theory, the genetic modification could drastically lower the pilot requirements. But it also comes with a high risk of producing something no longer human. Characteristics of the contributing animals can rise to the surface. Potentially, those manifestations could lead to better combat performance, but Seele forbid us from exploring the possibilities. They claimed that such a pilot couldn’t be counted upon to unlock the Instrumentality Project.” He frowned. “I’d heard the U.S. branch dispersed after the failure of Unit Four.”

“That was the cover story,” Aoba explained. “Off the books, they’ve been continuing several projects, using funds and resources from the federal government. I wouldn’t be surprised if the reasons they gave for Unit Four’s failure were a cover story, too. If the American public learned Nerv was splicing animal DNA into humans, the religious groups wouldn’t stay silent. My guess is that Nerv turned the accident to their advantage and took the opportunity to go underground.”

“But we’re not talking about putting animal genes in,” Misato said, “we’re talking about taking Asuka out.”

“Reverse the process, you mean.” Maya nodded. “An attractive notion, isn’t it? Well, whatever the process ends up being, we’d be starting the research from scratch, so we might as well see how far they’ve gotten. While we’re at it, we should get the Europeans to share their imitation heartbeat tech. It wouldn’t be too difficult to replicate on our own, but why go to the trouble if we don’t have to?”

“You make it sound like we’re popping out to pick up pizza and ramen. I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.”

“Near the Ark on the moon, Asuka found a German quantum wave mirror truck that went missing from the battle in Hokkaido. Use that as a bargaining chip.”

“You’re kidding.”