The catwalks close around the immobile, red and white colossus. The
doors open, and her leather shoes slap against the metal as Kyoko
Sohryu runs in, skidding to a stop at the main control console, on
level with Zwei's chin.
“Dogma, this is Sohryu,” she says.
“Reading you, Doctor,” Misato's voice answers via the
loudspeakers, “Where are you?”
“Cage 2. I'm prepping Zwei. Is Asuka there?”
“I'm
here, Mother.”
“Asuka,
I'm prepping Zwei for launch but I can't find Uri,” she says,
fingers dancing over the controls, an Entry Plug sliding off the wall
behind the Eva as Zwei obediently pitches his head forward, the plate
on the back of his neck retracting and the gray green shunt ejecting
into the LCL lake beneath, “I need you to come down here and
pilot.”
“On
my way.”
The
roof above shifts and shudders. A beam of orange red light, like
flame but without heat, forces its away through, forming a neat
circle the diameter of a human body. It forms a pillar from ceiling
to the catwalk in front of Zwei, and for reasons she cannot fathom,
Kyoko does not scream.
She
chalks it up to her experiences since coming to Japan. It is perhaps
that she simply does not have any surprise left in her.
The
light clears, and Uri stands up from his crouch, turning to her.
“Asuka,
never mind,” Kyoko says, “I found Uri.”
She
closes the channel, turning back to the computer and tapping up the
commands, the catwalks giving slack around Zwei and the LCL pool
draining.
“Well,”
he says, “I think I'm not human anymore.”
“You
were never fully human to begin with,” Kyoko says, eyes still on
the console, canceling locks on Zwei's armor, “And in all honesty
you don't look any less human, though I am curious about how you can
now fly.”
“Mother-”
“Right
now we have something definitively not
human outside, so I think you fall into the category of human. You
do not have tentacles, you still have only two eyes, but if I am
right you no longer have anything to fear from Rei or her sisters
making you their Special Friend.”
Locks
to the neck and joints disengage. Zwei's eyes light up and he leans
his head forward, eager for his pilot.
“And
Zwei doesn't see anything wrong with you, either,” Kyoko continues,
“And he's a better judge of character than anyone else here.”
She
looks up. He is still standing on the catwalk, hands unclenching and
clenching with the creaking of the plugsuit material.
“Uri,”
she says, “We can discuss this later. At length, and with your
sister. But for right now, shut up and get in the giant
robot.”
“Yes,
Mother.”
“And
for what it's worth,” Kyoko says, walking from behind the console,
over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “And I hope it's
worth a lot...it doesn't matter what
you are. You're still my son.”
Uri's
face cracks into a small smirk, and he turns, running up the catwalk
and to the Entry Plug. Walking back to the console, she hears the
whirring of the Entry Plug insertion, and the groaning of musculature
and metal as Uri swiftly connects with his steed. The rails behind
Zwei glow, electricity crackling over them as she taps the final
commands.
“Unit-02
activated,” she says, “Eva Launch.”
Tapping
the final button, she watches as the carriage lurches and launches to
the surface.
doors open, and her leather shoes slap against the metal as Kyoko
Sohryu runs in, skidding to a stop at the main control console, on
level with Zwei's chin.
“Dogma, this is Sohryu,” she says.
“Reading you, Doctor,” Misato's voice answers via the
loudspeakers, “Where are you?”
“Cage 2. I'm prepping Zwei. Is Asuka there?”
“I'm
here, Mother.”
“Asuka,
I'm prepping Zwei for launch but I can't find Uri,” she says,
fingers dancing over the controls, an Entry Plug sliding off the wall
behind the Eva as Zwei obediently pitches his head forward, the plate
on the back of his neck retracting and the gray green shunt ejecting
into the LCL lake beneath, “I need you to come down here and
pilot.”
“On
my way.”
The
roof above shifts and shudders. A beam of orange red light, like
flame but without heat, forces its away through, forming a neat
circle the diameter of a human body. It forms a pillar from ceiling
to the catwalk in front of Zwei, and for reasons she cannot fathom,
Kyoko does not scream.
She
chalks it up to her experiences since coming to Japan. It is perhaps
that she simply does not have any surprise left in her.
The
light clears, and Uri stands up from his crouch, turning to her.
“Asuka,
never mind,” Kyoko says, “I found Uri.”
She
closes the channel, turning back to the computer and tapping up the
commands, the catwalks giving slack around Zwei and the LCL pool
draining.
“Well,”
he says, “I think I'm not human anymore.”
“You
were never fully human to begin with,” Kyoko says, eyes still on
the console, canceling locks on Zwei's armor, “And in all honesty
you don't look any less human, though I am curious about how you can
now fly.”
“Mother-”
“Right
now we have something definitively not
human outside, so I think you fall into the category of human. You
do not have tentacles, you still have only two eyes, but if I am
right you no longer have anything to fear from Rei or her sisters
making you their Special Friend.”
Locks
to the neck and joints disengage. Zwei's eyes light up and he leans
his head forward, eager for his pilot.
“And
Zwei doesn't see anything wrong with you, either,” Kyoko continues,
“And he's a better judge of character than anyone else here.”
She
looks up. He is still standing on the catwalk, hands unclenching and
clenching with the creaking of the plugsuit material.
“Uri,”
she says, “We can discuss this later. At length, and with your
sister. But for right now, shut up and get in the giant
robot.”
“Yes,
Mother.”
“And
for what it's worth,” Kyoko says, walking from behind the console,
over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “And I hope it's
worth a lot...it doesn't matter what
you are. You're still my son.”
Uri's
face cracks into a small smirk, and he turns, running up the catwalk
and to the Entry Plug. Walking back to the console, she hears the
whirring of the Entry Plug insertion, and the groaning of musculature
and metal as Uri swiftly connects with his steed. The rails behind
Zwei glow, electricity crackling over them as she taps the final
commands.
“Unit-02
activated,” she says, “Eva Launch.”
Tapping
the final button, she watches as the carriage lurches and launches to
the surface.