Chapter 5: The Dance Continues
Chapter 5:
The Dance Continues
The Dance Continues
S
UPER EVA CONTINUED
to face relentless attacks.
Each time the giant tried to rise, its pivoting leg would suddenly lose contact with the ground, and it would topple over once more. Then came the Euro-II’s spear thrust. The pattern continued in an endless loop. Attack vehicles among the circling armored convoy began shooting at Super Eva, along with gunships from overhead. With its A.T. Field deployed, the Eva would normally have been impervious to conventional weapons, but the field was weakening, and its outer armor had begun to take damage.
“Class rep, stop!” Shinji cried. His mind was beginning to get hazy. “Wake up!”
<<
That’s a funny thing to say, Ikari-kun. I’m not the class representative anymore.
You
are.
>>
That was true, Shinji remembered with a start. In his second-year class, Shinji had been elected the class representative, with Hikari his number two.
“But…it doesn’t feel like I am. I haven’t been going to school much…”
She didn’t respond. For a moment, Hikari had sounded like herself, but the moment passed, and she seemed asleep again.
Why was
I
chosen to be the class rep, anyway?
Kaworu’s words echoed in Shinji’s mind.
You’ve performed too well in this world. That’s why the girl in red was at the center of the Instrumentality Project—you weren’t a suitable representative of humanity. I suspect in the next world, you’ll be more isolated.
But even then, I will…
The voice trailed off.
Nerv Japan held three Magi AI units, and one was currently devoted to repelling the cyberattack and anticipating how the attack might evolve.
The JSSDF garrison stationed near Hakone hadn’t mobilized, but they weren’t acting as allies, either. All incoming requests for information were answered with a looping, prerecorded message: “All lines are currently closed due to a large-scale cyberattack.” Meanwhile, the military base to the north was jamming the skies.
“Are we supposed to believe they’re trying to disorient our guests coming from the north?” Misato asked. “Because I think all this jamming is actually meant to mask the fleet’s approach.”
Nerv Japan had sent out several guided weapons and surveillance drones from Tokyo-3 toward Super Eva’s location, but all had been shot down before they could accomplish anything. Misato was beginning to feel impatient, and she, like Toji, wished she could fly to Hokkaido herself.
Hyuga had gone to Maya’s science lab to assist with analyzing the new Euro-II Evangelion, and presently the pair returned to the command center.
When Misato greeted them with a look of aggravated impatience, the technician winced and said, “We… We think we have an idea of what’s going on.”
“And what is it?”
Maya sent a still image from her tablet to Misato’s display. “Those circling armored vehicles appear to be carrying quantum-wave mirrors.”
I’ve heard that term before,
Misato thought.
But where?
Seeing her expression of unsure recollection, Hyuga offered, “Like in Super Eva’s chest piece.”
Misato was surprised. “What does that mean?”
“When Unit One’s S
2
Engine went haywire,” Maya said, “it opened up a hole to multidimensional space, allowing instabilities in space-time to come through to our side. But with the quantum wave mirrors, we were able to reflect those instabilities back upon themselves and contain them in the form of a heartbeat. Look at this picture.”
A CG-animated diagram appeared over the still image, showing power generated by Euro-II bouncing back and forth inside the ring of vehicles.
“From this picture,” Misato said, “it looks like those vehicles aren’t just echoing but
amplifying
the waves of localized gravity generated by the Allegorica system.”
Maya nodded. “And those mirrors are acting as a gravitational lens to project the gravity elsewhere.”
“So then, the ring of vehicles is acting like the inner walls of Super Eva’s chest, and the mirrors are trapping the projected gravitational waves and bouncing them around. Okay, I get that. But surely the gravity can’t be all that strong, right?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Maya answered. “Applied during motion, or right after the Eva stops, a little bit of force wouldn’t be able to throw the giant off-balance. But if an attacker aimed at the very beginning of an Eva’s movement and timed it just right, that’s another story. Evangelions are gigantic and strong, but as long as they look and move like us, they can’t escape the weaknesses inherent to the human body.”
Misato sighed. “I know it’s not what’s important right now, but it really pisses me off that all the tricks of our enemy’s newest weapon come directly from
our
tech. If we make it through this in one piece, the intelligence department will have a lot of explaining to do.”
The mood in the command center had turned rather gloomy, when Aoba said to himself with an almost inappropriate level of glee, “All right! Here we go!”
The technicians and Misato turned. With all eyes upon him, Aoba’s expression grew sheepish. “Er, sorry. But take a look at the main screen.”
The northern battleground had reappeared, and at once, the mood brightened.
Super Eva was in rough shape, but at least it was still moving.
“Whoa!” Misato gasped. “Where is this video coming from? Is it just me, or is this the view from the
opposite
position?”
Signal interference had previously interrupted the video of the showdown between Super Eva and the Euro-II. This new video’s resolution left something to be desired, but—Misato glanced at the time on the display—the image seemed to be live. Super Eva was clearly on the ropes, but…
He’s still alive.
“Well spotted,” Aoba said. “We’re watching the feed from the aggressor’s side—the United Nations Armed Forces Religious Riot Control, Third Brigade.”
Misato pictured the face of that UN “advisor” who had suggested Shinji’s visit to Hokkaido. She hadn’t liked the man from the start.
Angrily, the commander said, “So those so-called relief forces have been behind this whole thing!”
“They were the advance guard,” Maya added.
“The source signal has been heavily modified,” Aoba said, “and I don’t know for sure how many places it’s being sent, but two streams are being received by our dear friends. One to Tokyo-2—that is, New Ichigaya—and another to the prime minister’s underground disaster response center. New Ichigaya was harder to attack, so I’m doing a little borrowing from the latter.”
The national government had known about this from the start.
“And I suppose we still can’t communicate with Shinji-kun,” Misato said.
“Sure we can.” Aoba answered casually. “It’s a two-way link. But they’ll cut us off immediately, so we’ll only get one chance.”