Chapter 53: Moonlit Gathering

Chapter 53:
Moonlit Gathering

 

SUPER EVA flew over Kanto Bay, where Tokyo had been submerged following the Second Impact. On the north shore, at the High Energy Accelerator Research Center, he fulfilled his duty as a mobile power plant, and the proton accelerator ran right on schedule. Gold mirrors focused and directed the proton beam, which produced pions that traveled through 130 kilometers of bedrock to the sarcophagus dome in the old Geofront under Hakone—and into specially placed tanks of purified water, where the pions were converted into neutrinos and muons.

Now that the Nerv scientists had obtained a baseline particle sample, the observation system performed a series of minute adjustments and reinitialized. The computer performed corrections on the historical data, and the resulting logs indicated that the Chronostatic Sphere had disappeared half a day before the great collapse. That was when the sensors had first detected muons coming from the interaction of solar rays in the Earth’s atmosphere. Previously, the sphere had blocked particles of any kind from passing through.

Seeing Super Eva’s departure from Hakone, JSSDF Lieutenant Colonel Kasuga got an idea. He instructed the maser towers—designed to transmit power to Eva-02’s rectenna—to turn their microwave antennas to the north, where the waters of the newly formed channel separated Hakone from mainland Japan. On the opposite shore, the Akashima carried a JSSDF maser howitzer equipped with a relay rectenna.

The N2 reactor that powered Nerv Japan and Tokyo-3 had excess power capacity. Kasuga wanted to test to see if that excess power could be shared with less power-stable areas on the mainland in times of emergency. And so, when Super Eva came home in the early evening, he saw the faint purple glow of the focused microwave beams above the water.

 

Shinji walked down the hallway carrying a bag with cabbage and wheat flour for Toji’s okonomiyaki.

Shinji had picked up the ingredients in Tsukuba. That was what had started this whole thing.

Vegetable fields had been hastily planted throughout the caldera, and unless the weather changed drastically, a sizeable harvest was expected. Only a short hop away, the old Izu Peninsula was historically known for its many orchards.

But there was a difference between obtaining something and having a steady supply of it. Once the flour reserves ran out, there was no telling when more would arrive from the outside. The same was true of meat—though Trois said they’d all be fine without it. But what about fish? Hakone was surrounded by water, but the changes to the Earth’s crust had caused the fishing grounds to empty. Would the fish ever return?

That line of thinking only led to fear. If a typical disaster struck here or somewhere else, then the rest of the world could offer aid. But what about when the disaster was more widespread? What if it covered the entire planet?

Will this be the last time I have a chance to bring food to a party?

As he walked through Nerv HQ, he ran into Maya, who was carrying a bottle of vegetable oil. The oil looked like it could work for the okonomiyaki, but Shinji squinted at the bottle in doubt.

“I didn’t make this in the lab, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Maya said. “I’m not a mad scientist.”

“But I smell flowers…”

“I was working underwater, so I took a shower after.”

Shinji changed the topic before the conversation went somewhere inappropriate. “Working in the water tanks in old Dogma, you mean?”

 

“No, not the test tanks,” Maya said. “They’re filled with purified water. If anything got in, the water wouldn’t be pure anymore, would it? I was outside the dome, in the Geofront—everyone’s calling it the underground lake now. Drainage water. I hope I got the smell out. Did I?” She sniffed at the sleeve of her lab coat.

“It’s not like it’s sewage water. It can’t be that gross,” Shinji said. “Were you looking for the Chronostatic Sphere? The containment dome is still intact, right? So the sphere must have gone through the extradimensional tunnels, or something like them…”

When a large portion of the Earth’s crust had disappeared under the base of the Izu Peninsula, and the land had suddenly sunk, the dome’s earthquake sensors had tripped, activating an automatic lockdown of any passage, in or out.

Since the sarcophagus hadn’t taken any major damage, the initial rebuilding efforts were focused elsewhere. Only later was a team sent to pry their way back inside. That’s when they found a hollowed-out space exactly the same size and shape as the sphere had been.

Today’s efforts had uncovered the time of the disappearance but nothing else.

The sphere had vanished without releasing all the people Lilith had trapped inside it three years ago, including Ikari Gendo and Akagi Ritsuko. The policy had been to act as if those trapped inside had died, if only so the survivors could go on with their lives. But now the sphere was gone. How would that feel to the people whose colleagues, friends, and family were gone with it?

“You idolized Ritsuko, as a scientist,” Shinji said, aware that he was making light of any other feelings she might have had.

Maya let go of her sleeve and pointed at Shinji. “Idolized? That’s a strong word. Watch yourself.”

“Ah, sorry,” Shinji said with an apologetic shrug.

But then Maya said something he hadn’t expected. “No, the real shock is how little I feel now that the sphere’s vanished and she’s still gone.” Clearly unsettled, she anxiously ran a hand through her hair. “I suppose that means I’ve made peace with my loss in the three years since Lilith froze time. But what about you, Shinji-kun?”

Shinji should’ve known this was coming.

“Well?” Maya said. “Director Ikari—your father—is gone, too.”

Shinji didn’t know what to say to that, even after all this time.

 

His father had abandoned and deceived him…but he’d also needed him.

If the sphere had lifted its spell, and Shinji had been able to see his father again, he hoped they could’ve gotten along.

He’d imagined running into his father one day. He’d even played out the scenario in his mind. Shinji wasn’t averse to social contact the way he had been before. He was awkward, but so was his dad. Maybe this time, they could have been some kind of family.

But when he thought back to who he used to be—someone who only found purpose in other people needing him—he got chills. If he met his father again, would he revert to that person? Part of him wanted to find out, but another part wanted to delay the reunion forever.

When the Chronostatic Sphere disappeared, he’d been freed from a curse, in a sense. In that moment, Shinji realized he’d been feeling relieved.

“Well…” he said. “I feel the same as you.”

She scrunched up her nose. “That’s cheating.”

 

Toji tried to flip an okonomiyaki patty on the hot plate, now that one side had finished cooking, but he couldn’t quite match the movements between his right arm and his newly connected left. It was a miracle he could move the arm at all. He let out a panicked cry as the patty landed hard on the hot plate and split down the middle.

He shook his head forlornly. “There’s nothing sadder than that to someone from Kansai. Ayahachi, do the rest, will ya?”

He foisted the twin spatulas onto Trois and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

Shinji was chopping up additional ingredients. “Suzuhara Toji, the greatest tragedy of Kansai.”

Trois moved next to Shinji and began flipping the okonomiyaki.

“If Six were here,” Shinji added, “she’d definitely want to do that.”

“Next time,” Trois said without looking away from the hot plate.

The group understood her optimism. The mental mirror link between the Ayanamis was still dysfunctional, but Trois had said, in an uncharacteristically roundabout manner, “She’s still alive. I think she’s sleeping. Once she wakes up, I’m sure she’ll phone home or look for a way back herself.”

“How about we take those okonomiyaki to everyone waiting for her call?” Shinji asked.

 

The okonomiyaki party had started as a small gathering, but as people invited others to join, it grew into something big.

The cafeterias were used by the night shifts, so they hadn’t been an option. The party had started surreptitiously in the briefing room, but when the revelers set off a fire alarm—and received a dressing down from the fire watchers—they relocated to a cafeteria after all. Except by then, their party was over the room’s capacity. The next step was to take it outdoors.

Beneath the aurora, and the long, thin line of the Longinus Ring, the revelers put up wing canopies, set down tarps, unfolded chairs and tables, and hung LED lanterns.

“Hey, Toji,” Shinji said. “Someone brought a bunch of alcohol. Is that okay…Acting Deputy Commander?”

“What are you, stupid? Just pretend you never saw it. The adults can take responsibility for themselves.”

Misato weaved her way through the people on the tarps. She’d taken her shoes off and was holding them. “Just be mindful of everyone who’s still working inside,” she said. “And no alcohol for people who are on the next shift.” Then she added, “Mind if I join?”

“Er…sure,” Shinji said. “Trois, would you split that patty in half and put it on a plate for her?”

The original plan for the party had long since been abandoned. People were grilling and cooking all kinds of different food, and through the mouth-watering smoke, someone had set up a tarp as a movie screen and was projecting pictures and video clips pulled from Super Eva’s visual records, including from the battle at Novaya Zemlya.

Holding their drinks, the people watched the screen. The crowd stirred with each new clip, but their reactions to the footage of the Apple’s Core—the site of the first test of the Instrumentality Project—were far more subdued than Shinji had expected.

Toji leaned in. “Sorry to say it, but those pictures are so far beyond the realm of the ordinary that they come off as low-budget computer graphics.”

Shinji shook his head. “I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what most people here think. Even seeing it in person didn’t feel real.”

But one cluster of partygoers was watching with rapt interest—the science staff.

Among them, Maya sat on a cushion on the ground. She was still working—her tablet in one hand, a drink in the other. She stood and, as an afterthought, picked up her cushion—apparently not wanting anyone else to use it—hugging it to her side as she walked through the seated crowd toward Misato.

“I think Armaros came to the old Geofront before the great sinking. Or at least, something as big as him.”

“What?!” Misato nearly spat out her drink—oolong tea. She’d been resisting the array of alcoholic beverages.

The crowd went silent, the blood draining from everyone’s faces.

The biggest of all the giants—the one blamed for the global catastrophe—had been right beneath their feet without anyone noticing?!

Is this a joke? Misato thought. “But there’s nothing in the dome’s sensor logs.”

“He didn’t go inside the sarcophagus. And you know how little we’ve been monitoring the Geofront since the lake flooded it. But that’s where we found the evidence. Outside the dome, where all the water is.”

Next to Misato, Fuyutsuki lowered his titanium mug from his lips. “Right. We’re still watching everything inside the dome, but the flood wiped out our sensor network outside. So how did you find anything out there? Even if there were cameras on the outside of the dome, all they’d see is the water’s surface. What makes you think we had a visitor?”

“I sent an underwater robot to inspect the foundations for damage. At the fifth level underground—now the bottom of the underground lake—we found this.”

She thrust her tablet at Misato.

The commander sat up straight and took it, careful to keep the device perfectly level. Maya’s drink was balanced on top of it.

Once Misato had the tablet, Maya retrieved her glass. Some condensation had gotten on the screen, but the image was difficult to decipher to begin with. It looked like underwater footage.

The camera showed sediment that had been carried into the underground cavern. Along the sediment’s surface was a long indentation.

“What am I seeing?” Misato asked. The picture didn’t seem like much of anything.

Still holding her glass, Maya used her pinky to swipe through the other images.

“The earthquake damaged the tracks, but we found several. And if you connect them together…”

The tracks formed two staggered, parallel rows.

“Footprints!” Misato said. “Are they from Armaros?”

“An unbroken line runs along one side of the tracks. I think his single back plate etched it into the sediment. Analysis of our visitor’s stride also shows a likely match for his height.”

 

Misato couldn’t believe that something twice the size of an Eva had gone undetected so close to home.

“What about vibrations?” she asked. “They would’ve showed up on our seismographs.”

But then she remembered that the mutant Eva-0.0 that had abducted her had also infiltrated underground without leaving any evidence.

“The prints are unusually long,” Maya said, “like he was sliding. I don’t know how, but he wasn’t putting his weight under him. And then he went straight up to the dome.”

“Straight up to the dome…”

“That was it. No tracks leading away.”

Misato looked to Shinji. Everyone else followed suit.

Trois had been picking the meat out of her okonomiyaki and dropping it onto Shinji’s plate. He’d accumulated a little pile and was nibbling away at it, but when all eyes fell on him, he got flustered and gulped the rest down at once.

“He…he went into the ground,” Shinji said nervously. “Like with the…the dislocation.”

Misato traced the footprints with her finger. The last two prints turned outward in the shape of an open “V.”

“Just before he disappeared,” she said, “he planted his feet and stared at the dome’s wall.”

The nearby partiers crouched down to get a better look at the screen, and the ones farther back got on tiptoe or stood on folding chairs. The crowd imagined the black giant standing in front of the dome wall with the water up to his chest and grew noisy again.

“He didn’t need to see what was inside,” Fuyutsuki said. “Didn’t the first Angel Carrier break through the wall to get a look at the sphere?”

“So then, why did their boss come to visit this time?” Misato asked.

Trois mumbled something.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Shinji said.

She swallowed. “Probably to come get it.”

It? Does she mean Lilith, from inside the Chronostatic Sphere?

“Why do you think that?” Misato asked.

“Because the sphere disappeared.” Trois seemed surprised by the question. “Wait, am I weird for thinking that?”

If the sphere had already gone, why would Armaros care about the empty space?

“I get it,” Toji said. “After that, the ground came out from under us, and everything within twenty kilometers from here sank four hundred meters straight down. Lieutenant Colonel Kasuga told me once that this area’s crust was probably stable because we had Lilith here. So after Lilith went away, the disaster came. It fits with what we know.”

“Hold on,” Hyuga cut in. “All that tells us is the order of the events. Let’s not jump to any other conclusions.”

Misato thought for a moment, tapping her finger against the tablet’s screen.

“He’s right. We don’t have enough evidence to say what happened. And even if we did, the real question is, where did Lilith’s sphere go?”

Trois looked to Shinji with frustration—a feeling she rarely showed. “Maybe I am weird…” she said, imploring him to speak up.

Shinji sensed that he’d come to the same conclusion as her. Probably everyone had. They just didn’t want to say it because it sounded crazy. Shinji looked Trois in the eyes, working up the nerve to speak.

“Should we just come out and say it?” he asked.

Misato’s eyebrows shot up. “Shinji-kun?”

“We’re all acting like we don’t know just because we don’t have a physical explanation for it. The answer is simple, but we’re pretending it’s complex.”

What am I saying? Shinji wondered. But it was too late to stop now.

“If we take this all as some kind of messed-up creation story, then we know what comes next. Everyone knows. Right? You’re all picturing it. The stage for the next Earth…”

“Sengu,” Fuyutsuki said softly. The relocation of a deity to its new home through a temporary shrine. “A pregnant spirit thundered in the heavens, and a voiceless herald moved her shrine. Her final destination—”

“The moon,” Misato said. “The surface of the moon.”

Making a scene wasn’t in his character, but Shinji had come this far. He might as well follow through. He turned, pointing east.

“There,” he said.

The bright, overbearing moon had just begun to rise over Gora.

Toji squinted. “So…Commander. We want to stop our stage—the Earth—from being cleared away, no matter what it takes. But if Lilith is up there already, we’ll have to bring it back. And if Lilith is still on its way, we’ll have to block it. Right?”

Misato downed the rest of her tea and thrust her empty cup at Toji. “How about the stronger stuff?”

“Sure thing. What’re you having?”

The moonlight party took on an almost desperate rowdiness, especially from the adults, ignoring the objections of the security agents who came running over.

Some of the JSSDF undercover watchers must have been near the HQ, because word of the party reached the Akashima’s team at the airport on the other side of the island. Armed with food and drinks, a band of burly, camouflaged soldiers soon joined, and the revelry continued with no end in sight.