/* Genesis "Land of Confusion" _Invisible Touch_ */
EYRIE PRODUCTIONS, UNLIMITED
presents
NEON EXODUS EVANGELION
EXODUS 1:6 - ENTER THE DRAGON
Inspired by NEON GENESIS EVANGELION created by Hideaki Anno, Gainax,
et al.
Most characters created by Hideaki Anno and Yoshiyuki Sadamoto
except
DJ Croft created by Benjamin D. Hutchins
Jon Ellison created by Larry Mann
and
Lara Croft created by Toby Gard
Additional material and inspiration cadged from TOMB RAIDER by Core
Design, Ltd., X-COM: UFO DEFENSE and sequels from MPS Labs (whoever
owns them nowadays), THE X-FILES created by Chris Carter, and
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY by Arthur C. Clarke
Written by Benjamin D. Hutchins and Larry Mann
Aided and abetted by the Eyrie Productions, Unlimited crew
and special-guest-for-life Phil Moyer
(c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
The Dos Lobos Cantina, a mile or two outside the bad part of
Teotihuacan, Mexico, has seen a lot of strange things in the sixty-odd
years it's been where it is. Brawls, shootouts, robberies, drug deals
gone south, any number of violent occurances. It is a place where
anybody who is averse to violence shouldn't go, women doubly so, for
almost any woman entering the Dos Lobos will probably have to resort
to violence herself to get out again. That the place has the only
working telephone between the back of beyond and Teotihuacan proper is
of no consequence to the people who live in the area and know better;
they go to town if they need to make a call.
The person entering the cantina at this particular moment in
time knew all that, but thought it of little importance compared to
the events of the last few months; she couldn't have cared less that
all eyes were upon her the moment she stepped through the door.
To be fair, all eyes had good reason to be upon her. She was
easily the most interesting-looking item in the place. She was tall,
lean and buxom, smeared with unidentifiable dirt and grime, wearing a
mud-encrusted, tight, sleeveless top that might once have been white
and tattered, filthy safari shorts, plus a pair of boots so befouled
with dried mud and road dust that the laces could no longer be
discerned. Her hair was tied back in a braid, and so dirty its color
could not be determined. The small round sunglasses she wore were
spattered with mud which, lacking anything with which to clean it off,
she had to suffer to remain there for the time being. But even
bedraggled and filthy, she was stunningly beautiful, and carried
herself with an almost breathtaking athletic grace.
On her back, slung from the straps of the small leather
backpack she wore, was a folding-stock pump shotgun; at her hips,
swaying gently as she walked, was a matched pair of automatic pistols.
She spared none of the numerous goggle-eyed patrons a second (or even
first, come to that) look as she strode to the bar and slapped down a
handful of assorted change.
>Beer,< she said to the barman in Spanish, >and I need to use
your telephone.<
The patrons of the Dos Lobos Cantina were a rough bunch, but
they studiously kept their hands and comments to themselves the whole
time the woman remained, drinking her piss-warm Chago without wincing,
carrying on a lengthy and increasingly animated conversation in
English with someone on the place's antique phone, and sauntering out
with the same almost-insouciant hip-rolling walk. Between the look on
her beautiful face, the steel in the tone of her voice, and the easy
way she carried those guns, even the most lecherous and stupid of them
had realized that here was a woman there was no percentage in messing
with. None of them said a word the whole time she was there; none of
them even discussed her after she was gone, for fear she would somehow
hear and come back to punish them.
As she walked toward Teotihuacan and what passed for
civilization in post-Second-Impact Central America, the woman was
almost disappointed that nobody had tried to start anything. After
spending four and a half months out of touch with civilization, three
weeks trapped in a Mayan temple and the rest lost and living rough in
the jungle, she was almost spoiling for a fight.
On the other hand, it was just as well; she wanted to save all
her anger for the scumbag who trapped her in the temple and left her
for dead, with a healthy side helping left over for the American
government fools who'd all but kidnapped her son.
They were going to learn the hard way, all of them, that
nobody screws around with Lara Croft. Nobody.
DJ Croft had, over the years, developed a number of ways for
coping with air travel, which was one of his least favorite ways of
getting around. His favorite, and the one he was using now, was
simply to sleep through it - no mean feat aboard a cargo helicopter
which only carried passengers as an afterthought, but then, DJ was
fond of saying, if you can sleep in the King's Chamber of the Great
Pyramid, you can sleep anywhere.
In the sling seat next to him, Misato Katsuragi tried to get
comfortable, paging through a book she'd picked up at random from
Ritsuko's desk. Amazingly, considering it was a non-work-related book
picked up from Ritsuko's space, it wasn't about cats; it was entitled
"A Night to Remember", and was a somewhat fictionalized but mostly
factual account of the sinking of the steamship Titanic, just over a
hundred years before. There wasn't a single cat mentioned anywhere in
it, as far as she could tell.
She had just gotten to the bit where Second Officer Lightoller
gets rousted out of bed by one of the other officers when the pilot
informed her they'd arrived at the task force and would be landing, so
she stuck the book back in her carryall and nudged DJ awake.
"Hm? Wha? Are we there?" he asked, sitting up and yawning.
"Yes, we are," Misato replied. "Try to contain your
enthusiasm, OK?"
"Sorry, love... I just don't get on terribly well with
aircraft, is all." DJ looked out the side window at the gleaming blue
expanse of ocean below, spotting a couple of the destroyers belonging
to the outer defense ring of the Kriegsmarine carrier battle group
they were meeting. "Was this trip really necessary? They'd have been
in New Providence in another day."
"I suppose not," Misato replied, "but you didn't have to come
along, remember?"
"And let you take Jon instead, and leave me alone with that
predatory bottle blonde? Perish the thought. Without you round to
fend her off she'd never leave me be. The woman's crazy about me."
Misato laughed and yanked the fedora DJ wore down over his
eyes. "Let that head of your swell any more and you won't be able to
wear this," she warned him.
"Hey, get off," he replied, straightening the hat indignantly.
"D'you have any idea how hard it is to find a proper hat in
Worcester-3?"
"I ought to, you've described your travails in enough detail."
It was true, DJ had spent quite a bit of time and effort
tracking down the hat, and the black suit, wingtips and belted trench
coat that went along with it. Why he wanted to dress like a spy for
his trip to rendezvous with the German Navy convoy bringing Evangelion
Unit 02 and its pilot over from Europe was beyond Misato, but, as with
most of his little eccentricities, she accepted it with fond good
grace. She'd become aware, over the past week or so, that he'd become
an integral part of her homelife these days. They were, it seemed,
natural roommates, and she had become quite fond of the boy. Not as
enamored of him, perhaps, as Maya Ibuki, with whose connivance he
could get away with almost anything in Equipment Section - but quite
fond, nonetheless. She found herself, at this moment, possessed of a
most untoward desire to take off his hat and ruffle his hair, but
restrained it, not wanting to provoke his inevitable indignant
response.
DJ had little use for warships, except the sunken ones that
made for an interesting archeological challenge. His interest in the
kinds of ships that still floated was largely confined to passenger
liners, which had seen an unexpected resurgence of popularity in the
post-Second Impact years, plying the swollen oceans in numbers not
seen since the advent of cheap air travel. DJ liked traveling by
liner a great deal more than by air; it didn't make his ears pop, it
wasn't noisy, and the vehicles involved were a lot more interesting,
plus the trips were longer and gave him more time to think, read, and
anticipate his destination.
Nevertheless, he was impressed with the sheer size and
complexity of the German nuclear supercarrier Deutschland, if not with
the originality of its name. Most of the carrier's planes were
grouped forward, and flight operations were suspended for the time
being; the NERV cargo chopper touched down without incident, and as a
group of colorfully-vested German seamen made it secure, Misato and DJ
disembarked and went to meet the captain.
Admiral Franz Keller, the grizzled veteran commander of the
carrier Deutschland and her battlegroup, received them with Teutonic
politeness, if not overwhelming enthusiasm; then, casting a dubious
eye on the cargo helicopter, he asked,
"Am I to understand that your use of a cargo helicopter means
you have brought the emergency power connector?"
"That's correct," Misato replied. She offered a manila
envelope. "Here are the specifications and diagrams your engineer
will need in order to install it."
"Very well," replied Keller, taking the envelope. "I must
confess, I can foresee no eventuality which would lead me to approve
the use of the machine, but I suppose we may as well be prepared for
any eventuality."
"That's the spirit," said Misato with a grin.
"Your young friend seems to have wandered off," Keller
observed with a severe expression that was belied by the twinkle in
his eyes. "I'll have you know I'll tolerate no juvenile chicanery on
my ship. If he causes trouble, he'll find himself serving a four-year
compulsory tour of service in the Kriegsmarine!"
"Don't worry, Admiral," Misato replied. "DJ should be able to
keep himself out of trouble."
Back in Worcester-3, the EVA practice range was getting quite
a workout. With DJ gone, EVA-00 and EVA-03 were being tested in
simultaneous training, to determine the suitability of their pilots
as a combat pair. Ikari had posted the duty rosters that morning, and
to no one's surprised, he had paired Ellison with Ayanami and Croft
with Langley; now it was time to see if the first of those pairs would
actually work as a combat team.
As the two Evangelions - EVA-00 repaired and in its new
blue-and-white battle livery, EVA-03 shiny and new-looking in its
black and red - moved through the city, decoys and targets popped up
at random, testing the pilots' reaction times, target judgment,
alertness and firing accuracy.
"Target, two nine zero," Rei reported quietly.
"Targeting," Jon responded in the same tone, even as
both EVA-03 and EVA-00 swung their autorifles and knocked the
target down with twin three-round bursts.
"Amazing," Ritsuko Akagi observed in the control room.
The word Maya Ibuki would have used would probably have been
"disturbing", but she nodded agreement nevertheless.
At the moment, DJ was not technically in trouble, but he was
kind of put out; a gust of wind had gone and blown his hat off, and he
was now pursuing it across the flight deck, hoping that he'd capture
it before it blew overboard.
His hope that somebody would intercept it before it arrived
was fulfilled, sort of, in that a smallish, sandal-shod foot came down
on the brim and held it firmly to the deck. DJ, intent on the deck as
he followed it, tried to stop abruptly so as not to run into the owner
of the foot, but between the slightly wet deck and the smooth soles of
his new and unfamiliar dress shoes, he slipped and fell to the deck,
cursing and mentally noting that it seemed to be his month for doing
clumsy things.
Looking up at his hat's sort-of rescuer, he found himself
looking up at a pair of nice legs - a little thin, but long, with
good ankles, strong calves and sleek thighs - and yellow panties,
probably silk. The rest of the person was obscured by a yellow skirt
that was blowing in the wind.
Taking all this in stride, DJ said cheerily to the legs,
"Hullo, legs! Mind stepping off my hat?"
The foot moved; he recovered his hat and stood up, at which
point he was slapped in the face by an angry-looking girl about his
age. The rest of her matched her legs pretty well; she was slim and
well-built, a couple of inches taller than DJ, just starting to fill
out and doing a pretty nice job of it. The yellow one-piece sundress
she wore hung nicely, and she had good skin, too. Her pert face was
set in a glare of indignation, wide blue eyes almost crackling with
annoyance, as the wind blew her long auburn hair about in a most
fetching manner.
"What was that for?" DJ inquired pleasantly, resisting the
urge to touch his stinging face.
"That was the viewing fee," the girl replied haughtily, a
trace of a German accent coloring her otherwise American-sounding
English. "Quite a bargain, wouldn't you say?"
DJ considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Not a bad deal
at that! Hit me again, I want to have another look."
She blinked at him, caught totally off-guard; then her face
darkened with anger, and for a moment, he thought she actually -would-
slap him again - at which point, he would not be held responsible for
his actions. Then the anger cleared as she spotted something behind
DJ, and she waved, smiling.
"Hey! You've grown a lot since I last saw you," said Misato
cheerfully as she walked across the deck toward the children.
"Yup!" the girl replied. "And not just taller; my figure's
starting to fill out, too," she continued, striking a pose.
"I was just commenting on that," DJ observed.
"Oh, you've already met?" Misato asked.
The girl's face fell. "Don't tell me -this- is the Fifth
Child."
Misato nodded. "Uh-huh! DJ Croft, meet the Second Child,
Asuka Soryu-Langley."
"Charmed," said DJ, tipping his hat.
Asuka looked DJ over with narrowed eyes, then shrugged.
"Hmph! He doesn't look so great to me."
"If you want, I can slap you and then let you have a look at
the rest of the package," DJ offered politely.
"No THANK you," Asuka replied, turning away. "Hey, Misato,
have you seen Mr. Kaji?"
Now it was Misato's face's turn to fall. "He's -here-?" she
replied, her tone indicating that this was far-from-welcome news.
"Uh-huh!" Asuka replied, nodding happily, oblivious to
Misato's dismay. "He came with us from Germany. I think he's got
some stuff for the Director."
"Wonderful... " Misato observed weakly, the wan smile on her
face belying the word.
"Oh, there he is!" Asuka said, spotting someone off by the
carrier's island. "RYOOOJIIII!! OVER HERE!" she cried, waving.
DJ turned to see a tallish Japanese guy about Misato's age,
with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, a couple of days' growth
that he probably thought made him look all retrocool like Don Johnson
in those old 'Miami Vice' reruns, and civvies with a spotted tie,
break away from a group of sailors and saunter over. An unlit
cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth, since smoking wasn't
allowed on the carrier. DJ took an instantaneous dislike to him.
Misato did not turn around to see him approach, and visibly
stiffened as he slid up beside her, slipped a hand around her waist in
an almost proprietorial way, and said, "Hey, babe; long time no see,"
in a deep, oh-so-smooth voice.
DJ felt his instinctive dislike crystallizing.
"Uh... hi, Kaji," Misato replied, gently removing his hand.
"I'm sorry, sir, I don't believe we've met," said DJ,
sharpening up his English accent as much as possible and being almost
overly polite.
"Oh, sorry," said the man, sticking out a hand. "Ryoji Kaji."
"DJ Croft," DJ replied, shaking it. He had a firm grip, but
DJ still didn't trust him.
"You're the Fifth Child, then?" Kaji asked.
"I could tell you," DJ replied, "but then I'd have to kill
you."
Kaji laughed, which annoyed DJ slightly, since he hadn't
really meant it as a joke. "Hey, those guys tell me that there's some
rain coming," he went on, angling a thumb back at the group of sailors
he'd just been taking to. "What do you say we head down to the
wardroom and get something to eat?"
As he put his hand back on Misato's waist and squired her
toward the island, she glanced back at DJ with an expression he found
very easy to interpret: This is not happening. Get me out of here...
DJ sympathized, even if he didn't have the complete story, and
promised himself to help her out at the first available opportunity.
In Ritsuko Akagi's office, she and Gendou Ikari watched the
annotated playbacks of Jon and Rei's weapons tests, noting the spikes
in their sync curves as they moved and fired together.
"Their synchrony is impressive," Ikari observed. "It's
almost as if they're synchronized with each other's neural patterns as
much as those of their EVAs."
"Mm," Ritsuko replied, nodding, not taking her eyes off
the screen. "It could be a great asset."
"Correction," said SHODAN pleasantly from the sensor unit on
her console. "Under most combat conditions, it is a liability."
Ritsuko scowled at the sensor unit. "Explain."
"Observe their performance," SHODAN replied. Ritsuko and
Ikari turned their attention back to the screen and watched.
Time and again, a target would pop up; time and again, one
would identify it, then both would shoot it. The course was being run
with the expectation that there would be two independently-operating
EVAs on it; as such, the targets were coming too fast for Rei and Jon
to deal with them in this fashion. After several minutes of this,
SHODAN continued,
"When Jon and Rei are working together their synchrony
is unmatched. However, as you can see, they tend to target the
same hostile at once, move in the same direction, and so forth. Both
are taking the role of point."
"So we'll tell one of them to be point and the other to drop
back to marksman," said Ritsuko.
"That was done. Every time, their synchrony dropped off.
Prevented from exploiting it, they unconsciously abandon it and act
almost totally independently - they cease to be any meaningful sort of
team."
"Meaning they can't fight?" Ikari asked.
"I did not say that," SHODAN replied. "However, if they fight
together, I calculate a 94% probability that they will be too
predictable to effectively oppose an Angel. The Angels learn as they
fight, and it will not take any Angel long to reach the same
conclusion I have reached and exploit the weaknesses of their
cooperative style."
"How do you propose we deal with this?" inquired Ikari.
"Simply put: to obtain peak performance from both pilots, they
need to both perform the same task. I have put this issue to the
Magi; they unanimously recommend each of them serve as marksman to one
of the other pilots. A three-to-zero Magi consensus makes the optimal
pairings thus: point Croft, mark Ayanami; point Langley, mark
Ellison."
"I'm not sure I like that arrangement."
"Your personal feelings are not relevant," said SHODAN
mildly. "This arrangement is the most efficient one."
"Well, we'll just have to test this theory," Ikari replied,
accepting the computer's rebuke as truth.
"As always, there is no substitute for empirical testing,"
SHODAN concurred.
For DJ, the opportunity he was looking for wasn't long
coming.
They sat at a table in the wardroom - DJ, Asuka, Kaji and
Misato - drinking coffee and trying not to seem too awkward. Finally
Kaji leaned back in his chair and said conversationally,
"So, Misato - you have a boyfriend?"
"That's none of your damn business, Kaji," she snapped,
refusing even to look at him.
Kaji smiled the kind of smile a man gets when he feels his
question's been answered, then turned to DJ, who sat next to him.
"So. I understand you're living with Katsuragi here, kid?"
"Yeah, that's right," DJ replied, having a sip of his tea and
trying not to grimace. German sailors, he noted to himself, are not
the world's most talented brewers of tea.
"So tell me," Kaji said with a grin, "is she still an animal
in bed?"
Asuka turned sheet-white and gasped, freezing in a look of
total disbelief. Misato did likewise, then slowly turned brick red
before slamming her fists down on the table, coming halfway out of her
chair and shouting,
"Just what the hell are you implying?!"
Ignoring her, Kaji continued to DJ, "Has she changed since I
last saw her, Mr. Croft?"
DJ shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, and sipped his tea
again. "I don't know, do I?" he replied. "I don't know when you last
saw her, to say nothing of what sort of animal you mean. She doesn't
bark like a seal and balance a ball on her nose, if that's what you
mean."
Misato's glare changed to shock and then mild amusement as
Ryoji's grin disintegrated into utter consternation. He'd been hoping
to fluster the kid as much as Misato, after all; instead he'd got that
completely incomprehensible answer. Then she burst out laughing, and
kept it up until Ryoji had, with mumbled statements about vague duties
calling, beaten an ignominious retreat. Asuka followed him, closing
the door behind her.
Then she let out a deep and heartfelt sigh and slumped, face
in hands, elbows on table.
"I'm in Hell," she mumbled.
"There, there, my love," said DJ, patting her head. "I'll
protect you from nasty old Mr. Kaji."
"Fine start you've made," she replied.
"Got him to leave, didn't I?" said DJ.
"So," said Kaji to Asuka as they stood by the rail on one of
the island's upper levels. "What did you think of the Fifth Child?"
"I think he's an idiot," Asuka replied flatly.
"Mm," Kaji replied. "And yet his synchronization ratio with
Unit 01 in his first combat reached point-eight-seven to one."
Asuka's eyes widened. "Impossible."
"Read the reports," Kaji replied, shrugging. "The kid's a
natural-born fighter. Synced with EVA-01 - the Nine-Zero System - and
took out the Third Angel in his very first outing at the controls. No
training, no sim time, no preparation."
"Hmph," Asuka said, her momentary awe flickering and dying.
"He's still an idiot."
A bit later, as Misato and DJ rode an inordinately
long-seeming escalator back toward deck level, DJ observed, "I get the
impression you and Slicko have, er, met before."
Misato scowled, her eyebrows threatening to meet. "He went to
college with Ritsuko and me," she replied. "And he hasn't changed at
all, the big jerk."
"-Are- you still an animal in bed?"
"Don't -you- start with me now!" Misato snapped.
"Sorry," DJ replied. "Makes me curious, is all. The last
thing I need is for you to meet some bloke you decide you like, bring
him home and keep me awake all bloody night," he added with his
father's grin.
Misato's annoyance, as it generally did in the face of that
grin, melted, and she managed a wan grin of her own. "I wouldn't
know, kid," she replied wistfully. "It's been too damn long since I
met anybody special."
"Well, at least you haven't lowered your standards," said DJ.
"Hey! Mr. Fifth Child!" a voice called from the top of the
escalator. DJ looked up; standing at the ever-approaching top was
Asuka Langley, glaring down at him almost defiantly.
"Yeah?" DJ replied.
"Come with me," Asuka said. "I want to show you something."
Stepping off the top of the escalator, DJ protested, "A bit
ago you didn't want me looking at -anything-."
Behind him, he heard Misato stifle a laugh as Asuka growled,
"Don't make me hurt you."
They caught a launch to one of the other ships in the fleet, a
large freighter, whereon Asuka lifted up the corner of the massive
tarp lashed over the big open hatch to the forward hold and gestured
expansively.
"There!" she said. "What do you think of -that-?"
DJ looked. "Nice color," he said. "Bit flashy, but who am I
to talk? Some genius painted mine purple and green on me."
Missing the reference entirely and not caring a bit, Asuka
replied, "The color's not the only difference." She climbed down a
ladder into the hold, beckoning DJ to join her, and they stood on a
pontoon catwalk that floated in the suspension fluid next to the
Evangelion which lay face-down in said liquid, the highest points of
its back and spinal ridge protruding from the surface.
"See, your EVA and Ayanami's are early models built as part of
the development process - 01 is the test type and 00 the prototype.
Neither one was really intended for combat. But this is Unit 02, the
production model. This one was built with combat in mind, and
incorporates all the lessons learned from the -mistakes- in 00 and
01. This is the world's first -real- Evangelion!"
"I hate to burst your bubble here," DJ pointed out, "but Unit
03 has been operational for several weeks."
"Sure, and both times it's been shot up and rescued. I hear
it didn't even sync right with its pilot the first time out, which
means either he did something wrong, or it did. I'm not very
impressed with Ellison's record."
"He's been dealt some bad hands," DJ replied. "The first time
he had sync problems because he had lousy prep time, and the second,
the gantry failed to release his unit. Made him a sitting duck.
Hardly his fault."
"Oh, and I suppose it was just -luck- that you synchronized
with EVA-01 in your very first time in an entry plug, and went on to
beat the Third Angel?"
"More or less," said DJ, nodding. "Almost got my bloody head
handed to me before I got everything sorted, you should watch the
tapes of the first five minutes of the battle if you want a good idea
how not to fight an Angel."
"They're impressed with your skills because the other two
Worcester-3 pilots are worse than you, not because you're good," Asuka
insisted. "I've read your record, you know. I scored twenty points
higher than you on the intelligence tests alone - once I get there
I'm going to show NERV some -real- piloting."
"Good," DJ replied. "Then I can piss off back to England and
let you save the bloody world."
Asuka would have retorted, but just then, the ship shook.
"What the - ?!" she said, realizing even as she voiced the question
what the answer was.
"Undersea shock wave of some kind," DJ observed, heading back
up the ladder to deck level and heading for the forward rail. Asuka
was right on his heels, and they arrived at the rail to see... well,
-something- attacking the ships in the outer perimeter of the battle
group. As they watched, a destroyer was struck from below by
something speeding just below water level; its keel split in two, the
ship broke in half and foundered almost instantly. The next one in
line suffered the same fate. It reminded DJ of the descriptions given
in Verne's "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" of the Nautilus's
attacks on surface ships.
"Either a deranged genius with a nuclear submarine is
attacking the fleet," he observed, "or that's an Angel."
"An Angel?!" Asuka echoed. "A real one?"
"I think so," DJ replied. He pushed back his sleeve and
flicked his watch's comm function on, raising not Hal, but the other
HALcomm watch in the area - the one he'd given to Misato.
"What are you doing?" Asuka demanded.
"Calling Misato," DJ replied.
"I'm sure she's aware of the situation," said Asuka, "and
there's no time for that. Come with me."
Shrugging, DJ shut off the watch and followed her toward a
stairwell. "Whatever you say... "
"Well, Major Katsuragi," Admiral Keller observed, giving
Misato the impromptu promotion traditional in naval circles for
visiting ground-force officers holding the rank of captain. "It
appears your philosophy of preparing for eventualities may come in
handy after all. First, though, I'd like to try handling this my
way. Just so I don't feel totally useless, you understand."
Misato wasn't sure if the old man was serious or not, but her
pause to think it over gave him time to pick up a microphone and bark
attack orders in German to the fleet.
DJ hung around the entrance to the stairwell for a minute or
so, whistling "Beyond the Sea" and watching the underwater Angel
zooming around the fleet. The ships of the fleet were unloading
everything they could find at it - battleship bombardments, cruise
missiles, torpedoes, depth charges - but to no avail. Conventional
firepower, as always, was proving useless against the Absolute Terror
Field.
The door clunked; DJ turned to see Asuka, changed from her
yellow dress to a bright red plug suit.
"Nice outfit," DJ observed dryly. "What're you supposed to
be? 'Hot Stuff, the Irksome Little Devil'?" He ducked a slap and
followed her down into the hold where the red EVA lay dormant. On the
pontoon bridge, she knelt briefly, rummaged around in the duffel bag,
and then handed him a second red plug suit.
"Here, put this on," she commanded.
"Thank you, no," DJ replied, removing his overcoat and suit
jacket and loosening his striped tie, then unbuttoning his shirt to
reveal the dark green and black of his own. "I'm dressed for the
occasion. I suppose it'd be futile to ask you to reconsider this
decision?"
"I'll get permission once I've defeated the Angel," Asuka
replied confidently as DJ got out of his clothes, folded them neatly,
and packed them into the bag.
"Is this bag waterproof?" he asked.
"I hope so, it's got my favorite dress in it," Asuka replied,
shouldering the bag and leading him to EVA-02's extended and open
entry plug.
"Why, exactly, are you taking me with you on this expedition?"
DJ wondered.
"So you can have the best seat in the house as I demonstrate
my superior piloting to Misato and the others," she said smugly.
"Oh. Well, it's nice to feel wanted," DJ observed.
"This is useless," Misato observed, watching the fleet flail
ineffectually at the Angel with their conventional weapons. "This
kind of firepower won't even scratch that thing's AT Field."
"Reluctantly, I'm beginning to agree with you," Keller
observed. "Very well. Mueller, order the Freitag to prepare EVA-02
for launch."
"Sir, a telex from the Freitag just came in - EVA-02 is
already powering up!" Commander Mueller reported.
Keller directed a bemused glance at Misato, who grinned. "Way
to go, Asuka," she muttered.
DJ wasn't fluent in German, but he'd picked up enough of it in
travels on the Continent to catch the general gist of the German
litany Asuka was going through; it was basically the German equivalent
of the things he had to report when activating Unit 01. She was
probably murmuring them under her breath out of force of habit.
The screens began to shift around them as synchronization
began; then they stopped, an alarm sounded, and all the displays
shifted to a tiled flashing pattern of the word "FEHLER" - "ERROR" -
in block red capitals.
"Hell of a time for a page fault," DJ observed.
"Thought noise. I told you not to distract me!" Asuka
snapped. "You're thinking in English, aren't you? Think in German!"
"I don't know German well enough to think in it," DJ replied.
"How about if you think in Latin?"
"What?"
"Don't know Latin? How about ancient Greek?"
"Skip it! Computer, reset the language interpreter for
English."
Obediently, the onboard system did as instructed, and
synchronization completed. Even though he was not piloting, DJ could
feel a faint quiver at the back of his mind, an echo of the kind of
feeling he got when he was clicking with Unit 01.
"Asuka, are you there? Are you ready for launch?" Misato
called into the microphone.
"Synchronized and ready," Asuka's voice replied. Misato
grinned and looked to Admiral Keller; looking faintly pained, the old
man nodded.
"Go!" Misato cried.
"Evangelion Unit 02 - launch!" Asuka ordered, and the red
machine heaved itself to its feet, head and shoulders tearing through
the tarpaulin as it raised itself out of the open hatchway.
To one side, the familiar clock display of battery power
appeared, but to DJ's consternation, it started counting at 1:00.00.
"Only one minute of battery power?" he inquired.
"The test type's five-minute batteries were deemed a
superfluous waste of tonnage," Asuka replied. "They slow the unit
down."
"Not half as much as running out of bloody power," DJ said.
"Here comes the Angel," said Asuka. "Hang on!"
With a mighty leap, EVA-02 hurled itself from the hold of the
Freitag moments before the speeding Angel knifed through her and sent
her to the bottom.
"Hey!" Asuka cried. "Watch where you're putting your hands."
"I -am-."
...
<SLAP>
"All right, I deserved that."
"Uh, Major Katsuragi," said Commander Mueller. "Were you
aware that EVA-02 was shipped with Type B equipment fitted?"
"Type B?!" Misato replied, aghast.
Aboard EVA-02, overhearing, DJ cast a dubious eye toward the
water speeding up below and said, "Great, so if we fall in the sea,
we've had it."
"And if we don't, we'll be fine, right?" Asuka replied. The
EVA crashed down on the fantail deck of a destroyer, smashing flat the
rescue helicopter moored there, then leaped again, hurling away the
tarp that had settled around its shoulders like a robe, to land atop
the superstructure of a cruiser, wrecking its radar entirely.
"Better get that power supply ready, Misato," called Asuka,
"'cause we're coming in!"
Below decks aboard the Deutschland, Ryoji Kaji was, of all
things, on the phone.
"You never told me I might run into an Angel out here," he
grumbled.
"An eventuality that was planned for," replied the voice of
Gendou Ikari. "That's why EVA-02 is there. I was even kind enough to
send you an extra pilot if you need him."
"Your best, so I've been told."
"Perhaps, but also the least important to the project as a
whole."
"I'm touched."
"If need be, you can always make your escape," Ikari pointed
out.
"True," Ryoji replied.
"You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Kaji," Ikari said. "There's
a bit of trouble I have to deal with on this end. Nothing major, I'm
sure, but Dr. Akagi thinks it worth my attention."
"Oh, by all means," Kaji replied. "See you soon."
Ikari disconnected without saying goodbye.
Setting his phone down, Ikari looked up from his desk to the
worried face of Dr. Ritsuko Akagi.
"Now then, Dr. Akagi. What is it?"
"We have a problem, sir," Ritsuko replied. "Take a look at
security monitor three."
Ikari tapped a command to the computer console built into his
desk, and a display screen glowed to life under its glassy surface.
It displayed the view from a security camera overlooking one of the
guard stations at one of the entrances to Central Dogma.
Standing at that station, engaged in what appeared to be, even
without audio, a lively argument with the guard, was a woman in a
white sleeveless top, safari shorts, and hiking boots, her long brown
hair tied back in a braid. She was very beautiful, and very angry,
and very surprising to see in this context - for until just that
moment, Gendou Ikari had believed Lara Croft to be dead.
He covered his surprise well, though, turning to Ritsuko and
and only saying mildly, "Deal with her."
"How?" Ritsuko replied.
"Go and have the guard let her in," Ikari replied. "Take her
to the commissary, buy her some lunch if she's hungry. Tell her the
truth - the boy isn't here and she can see him when he gets back."
At that moment, DJ was hanging onto the sides of the command
seat in EVA-02 for dear life as the machine came crashing down on the
deck of the aircraft carrier Deutschland, causing the mighty carrier
to list almost ten degrees to port and dumping several unmoored planes
off the side before Asuka shifted the EVA's weight and balanced it.
"Shifting to external power," Asuka reported, picking up the
power tap that had been laid out on the deck and plugging it into the
socket on the EVA's back.
"Grand," DJ observed. "We're sitting ducks with useless
equipment and no weapons, but at least we've plenty of electricity."
"No weapons? We've got the Progressive Knife," Asuka replied,
deploying same and adopting a ready stance, facing the plume of spray
that marked the position of the approaching Angel. "It'll have to be
enough."
"You are completely insane," DJ remarked, regarding her with
some respect. "I think I like you."
With a crash, the great white Angel heaved its whale-like bulk
out of the water and smashed down on the deck, almost capsizing the
massive aircraft carrier; thrown off-balance, EVA-02 tumbled
overboard, the Progressive Knife spiraling uselessly away, to sink to
the bottom and become a particularly interesting marine-life habitat.
On its way down, the EVA grabbed at the edge of the flight deck,
trying to find a purchase, but its hand closed only around a jet
fighter parked on the deck, crumpling it and pulling it overboard
along with the falling EVA.
Its quarry gone, the Angel showed no more interest in the
Deutschland; it slipped wetly off the deck and back into the sea,
pursuing the sinking Evangelion instead.
"Well!" observed DJ as the EVA sank ineffectually toward the
bottom of the Atlantic. "You certainly showed -him- who's in charge."
"Oh yeah?" Asuka replied. "Watch this!" She thrust the hand
controls forward. The EVA responded by doing entirely nothing.
"Watch -what-?" DJ inquired.
"I think we're in trouble," Asuka muttered.
"You did remember that Type B equipment doesn't work
underwater, right?"
"We're in trouble!" Asuka confirmed, tugging uselessly at the
controls. "Don't just sit there, -do- something!"
"Like what?"
"You're the great and powerful Fifth Child, aren't you? Do
something brilliant!"
"I can't change the bloody laws of physics!" DJ retorted.
In the NERV commissary at Central Dogma, Lara Croft sipped
machine-generated almost-tea and gazed over the paper cup's rim at
Ritsuko Akagi.
"So what you're telling me," she said, in a dangerously calm
tone, "is that you people lured my son over here under false pretenses,
then all but arrested him, plugged him into an experimental weapon and
threw him into combat without any briefing or training to speak of."
Ritsuko shifted uncomfortably under the explorer's even brown
gaze and replied, "I don't know if I'd phrase it quite that way... "
"But that's what happened," Lara finished for her. "Well, you
can be sure the British consulate is going to hear about this. In the
meantime, you can do me the favor of releasing him."
"DJ is not a prisoner here," Ritsuko protested. "He's had the
option of leaving since he arrived, and he knows it. He's chosen to
stay."
Had Lara known of the virtual emotional blackmail that had
been performed to persuade DJ to take EVA-01 into combat the first
time, she would have been incensed by that statement; as it was, she
was merely unimpressed, replying dryly, "I'm sure his options were
made -perfectly- clear."
"Dr. Croft, we're not the Mafia here, you know," said Ritsuko
indignantly. "We're not in the business of kidnapping children and
forcing them to work for us. Now, it happens that DJ possesses a very
rare and very special talent which is critical to the survival of
mankind. You've raised him to be a very responsible young man - it's
only natural that, knowing that, he'd want to do his part."
"Listen, I don't give a damn about your experiment or your
problems here. I just want to tell my son I'm alive and take him home
where he belongs. This is no place for him."
"Our problems are everyone's problems, Dr. Croft. We are the
last line of defense - and the only effective one - against the
Angels. NERV is the only thing standing between the people of Earth
and a Third Impact, or worse, and DJ is an integral part of that
defense. We need him here."
"If that were true, you could have just -asked- him to help.
If you had asked, given those conditions, he would have come and I
would have been all for it." Finishing her tea, Lara stood up. "But
you didn't, did you? You're apparently not firm enough in your
convictions to be forthright about it - instead you had to trick him
into coming here. I can't, in good conscience, leave my son in the
hands of people who operate that way. It doesn't speak at all well of
your inclination to deal honestly with him or protect him down the
line."
"You are hardly in a position to fault us for placing DJ in
dangerous situations, are you?" Ritsuko retorted, coming to her feet
and leaning over the table toward Lara. "Talk about the pot calling
the - "
She got no further; her eyes blazing with sudden fury, Lara
lashed out with a neat, compact right hook, knocking Ritsuko to the
floor with a crash. All around them, the hum of lunchroom discussion
stopped; Maya Ibuki and John Trussell, two tables over, stared in mute
astonishment as Ritsuko sat up, rubbing her injured jaw with the back
of her hand.
"Thank you, I get quite enough of that from my father," Lara
said tightly, her eyes smoldering. "I don't have to take it from a
bloody -kidnapper-."
Summoned by the commotion, two NERV security guards burst into
the commissary; seeing Dr. Akagi sprawled on the floor and Lara
standing over her, they immediately drew their sidearms and covered
Lara, calling for her not to move.
As Ritsuko got unsteadily to her feet, Dr. Gendou Ikari
entered the commissary; with a gesture, he waved the guards away, then
stepped to Ritsuko's side.
"Is there a problem here, ladies?" he inquired calmly.
"This is not an improvement," DJ noted unhappily as the red
EVA was almost swallowed whole by the whale-like Angel, lodging head
and shoulders in its massive jaws.
"We'll be all right if I can just get us back on the carrier!"
Asuka replied, frantically working the ineffectual controls.
"This doesn't look like any carrier to me!" DJ replied,
looking out via the viewpanels at the monster's enormous gullet.
"Don't yell at me," Asuka snapped.
"Well, what do you -want- me to do, Motorhead?!" DJ demanded.
"Why do you have to be so negative?" Asuka wondered angrily.
"Why can't you offer me some constructive criticism?"
"Look! You got us into this bloody whale, my love. You get
us out!"
Above, on the carrier's deck, Misato watched with worried
fascination as the cable paid out and out and out. "How much cable
left?" she asked the deck officer.
"1,500 meters remaining," he replied.
Off to one side, an aircraft elevator delivered a British
Aerospace Harrier V vectored-thrust jet to the flight deck. Looking
at it, Misato realized that one of the two men in its two-seat cockpit
was Ryoji Kaji.
"Ryoji!" she called into the microphone, uncertain whether to
be pleased or annoyed to see him apparently preparing to render aid.
"Well, you seem to have the situation well in hand here,
Katsuragi," said Ryoji over the radio. "So I'll leave you to it!
I've got a delivery to make. Catch you later!"
He sketched a salute from within the plane as the pilot
applied thrust and lifted away; and then they were gone.
Misato shouted a particularly choice obscenity and hurled the
microphone to the deck. Being of solid German manufacture, it did not
break, which only served to make her more angry.
"Any ideas?" DJ asked Asuka as the Angel swam in circles,
worrying at the EVA's armored form like a particularly tough piece of
chum.
"No," Asuka admitted after a moment's thought. "You?"
"Maybe." DJ worked his way back around the seat, ignoring
Asuka's indignant protests, and put his hands on the controls, wincing
a bit as his healing burns stung through bandages and gloves. "Help
me out here; I think with both of us working at it, we can get this
thing to move, even down here."
"Then what?"
"Trust me. I wasn't thinking before - we -can- change the
laws of physics."
"What?!"
"What do you think an 'Absolute Terror Field' is -for-?"
Asuka scowled. "One of these days you're going to be wrong,
Fifth Child, and I hope like hell I'm there to see it."
She cooperated anyway.
Lara Croft stood on the catwalk in Bay Seven, looking up at
the immense purple bulk of Evangelion Unit 01. She'd just come from
Ikari's office, where he'd shown her films of DJ's three combat
sorties and various training exercises; he'd shown her the EVA her son
piloted, then excused himself, as the other two based at the facility,
a black one and a blue-and-white one, entered the cage and backed into
their respective lockdown bays.
The entry plugs ejected, LCL evacuated, and the two pilots
emerged; even from the distance she was at, Lara could tell that they
were just children themselves, probably no older than DJ.
They use children to pilot all of these things? What kind of
people are they? she wondered.
She turned away and left the bay, wandering the corridors for
a while before ending up in a curiously shaped lounge. It occupied
the space between the corners of two wings that didn't quite form an L
shape, and as such had the feeling of having been added as an
afterthought (which, in fact, it had). Because of its shape, its
resemblance to a similar structure on the WPI campus topside, and the
way it seemed to have been wedged into the gap between the Infirmary
and Operations wings, most of the NERV personnel who frequented it
called it "the Wedge".
As she sat in one of the not-overwhelmingly-comfortable
booths, considering all she had seen and heard about today, she
noticed two people entering the lounge. Looking up, she saw that they
were the two children she'd seen getting out of the other EVAs a few
minutes before, dressed in street clothes, their hair damp from a
quick shower.
They were, Lara saw as they approached, a boy and a girl. The
girl was small, pale and delicate, with disconcertingly red eyes and
light blue hair; she wore a blue skirt and white blouse that almost
looked like a uniform. The boy was taller, older-looking, with long
black hair and bright green eyes; he had on jeans, loafers and a WPI
sweatshirt.
It was at about that moment that they seemed to take notice of
her, and blinked, apparently in recognition.
"Dr. Croft?" the boy asked as they stepped closer.
Lara glanced up. "Yes?"
"Hello," the boy said, smiling slightly. "I'm Jon Ellison."
"Rei Ayanami," the girl added softly.
"We're... friends of DJ's," Jon said.
Lara nodded. "I saw you earlier. You do the same thing he
does?"
"Yes," Rei answered simply.
Lara gestured to the booth. "Have a seat." Jon and Rei sat.
"Your boss, what's his name, Ikari - he tells me DJ's here willingly.
Is it true?"
Rei was silent for a moment. Jon glanced over and was just
about to speak when she finally said, "... He is now."
Lara considered the implications of that statement for a
moment, clearly getting more and more agitated as she thought about
it; then she burst out, "What kind of a life is it, though? Where
does he live? Is he alone? Does he -have- a life outside of... of
-this-?" she asked, gesturing at the room and the headquarters beyond
in general. "What kind of organization -is- this, that uses children
as its front-line soldiers? Why DJ, why you? I don't bloody
understand anything that goes on here."
"He lives next door to us, with Captain Katsuragi. I think
you'd like her," Jon said, smiling slightly. "And I'm sure he does
have a life of his own, but he'd know better than us. As for why
we're the ones who pilot the EVAs... " He paused for a moment,
glancing at Rei, who looked back at him and nodded silently. "Well...
all I really know about that is that apparently we're the only ones
who can. We were all born around nine months after Second Impact. I
don't know how it works, I just know that it's true - they -have- to
use us, because children or not, we're the only ones who can make the
EVAs work."
"It's a gift," Rei added.
Lara raised an eyebrow, looking amused at something Jon had
said earlier. "This Captain Katsuragi is a woman?"
"Yes," Jon replied.
Lara chuckled. "They grow up so fast," she said wryly. "He's
off base now, they tell me."
Jon nodded. "He and Captain Katsuragi are meeting the fourth
member of our team at sea - she's on her way over from Germany with
her EVA by ship. They should all be back tonight."
"Not a combat assignment, then?"
"Oh, no, not at all. I'm sure DJ's perfectly safe - in fact,
he's probably bored stiff right about now."
"Don't get any funny ideas," Asuka warned DJ.
"What?" DJ replied, distracted by the uninformative warning.
"Just concentrate on moving the EVA."
"Oh. Right."
And, indeed, they were moving, slowly but surely, the red EVA
plodding down the Angel's throat, trailing cable in its wake. The
power cable sawed ominously against the monster's closed teeth as they
pulled it through, but the tough insulation held up, so they kept
going, crawling ever deeper into the fleshy darkness.
"What are we doing this for, anyway?"
"We're looking for the core. On the first couple of Angels I
dealt with, we were lucky enough that it was on the outside, but that
wasn't the case with the last one and apparently not this one either;
which means it's got to be in here somewhere."
"And then what, when we find it?"
DJ grinned. "Did you notice the little radioactivity symbols
painted on the two missiles strapped to that plane you grabbed on the
way down?"
The color drained out of Asuka's face.
"Hello, hello, Misato, can you hear me?" DJ's voice crackled
from the radio panel.
"DJ? Are you down there too?!" Misato cried, snatching up the
microphone.
"Unfortunately, yes. Listen, that plane we grabbed on our way
off the carrier, can you get Admiral Keller to give us the failsafe
codes for the two nuclear cruise missiles it was carrying?"
Keller, overhearing, ordered Commander Mueller to find out
which plane it had been and get those codes. Misato, eyes wide, said,
"You're insane!"
"So I've been told. You have any better ideas, now's the
time."
Misato's astonishment slowly melted away, replaced by a sly,
almost feral glee, and she replied, "Not a one, kid. Go for it. Our
signal won't be able to reach them from up here, though."
"Relaying through EVA-02's radio system should work," DJ
replied. "Just be ready to reel us up in a hurry."
"Transmitting the codes now," Commander Mueller reported.
"There you are, you bastard," DJ muttered as, on the other
side of the translucent stomach lining, the glowing red core
appeared. EVA-02 deployed its second Progressive Knife at his
command; slowly, painstakingly, DJ and Asuka sliced open the stomach,
then the outer layer of the core. Then, putting the knife away, they
made EVA-02 gently pry the two cruise missiles from the undercarriage
of the smashed jet, discarding it and plugging the missiles like
cardiac electrodes into the Angel's core.
DJ cranked the output power on the EVA's radio transmitter up
to max, crossed his fingers, and transmitted the failsafes; the
warheads responded with acknowledgement signals and began a
thirty-second countdown.
"Let's get the hell out of here," DJ and Asuka said to each
other as one, turning the EVA and heading for the mouth.
Just as they did so, there came a sudden, resounding shock,
and the EVA tumbled end-over-end toward the front of the Angel,
dragged up by the sudden tension on the power cable.
"The cable just ran out!" Misato called. "Get out of there,
you'll capsize the carrier!"
"A work in progress, Misato, my darling," DJ replied through
his teeth as the EVA slammed back-first into the Angel's closed teeth.
A sudden wrenching jar, and all was silent for an instant - then the
interior lights went red and the 1:00.00 countdown started again.
"Oh NO!" Asuka cried. "The cable's snapped!"
"You said you wanted to be here when I made a mistake, love,"
DJ observed, gritting his teeth and pushing against the hand controls.
"This just might be it."
"I take it back!" Asuka declared.
Turning the EVA around, DJ and Asuka crouched it and drove its
hands into the gaps between the Angel's teeth, levering the jaws
apart. As their desperation increased, so did their mutual
synchronization with the machine, and the EVA's strength increased
proportionately. As the count hit 0:35.00, the Angel's jaw muscles
gave way with a deep tearing noise, and the jaws swung open.
Deep within the Angel, the two 10-kiloton tactical nuclear
warheads detonated.
Misato Katsuragi cried out inarticulately as the winch on the
carrier's deck retrieved the frayed, broken end of the power cable at
the same moment as a titanic waterspout erupted two hundred meters off
the Deutschland's port bow. For a terrible few seconds, all was
silence.
Then a shadow appeared on the aft flight deck, grew larger and
larger, and, with a resounding crash that dented the deck, EVA-02
slammed down on its feet, dropping into a crouch, then falling to its
knees and sprawling, face-first, powerless, and steaming, full-length
on the flight deck.
A cheer went up from the men and women of the Deutschland's
crew as the entry plug popped out and two shaken but unharmed pilots
emerged.
Gendou Ikari picked up his ringing desk phone. "Yes?"
"Kaji here," came Kaji's voice. "The operative who met me at
the airport indicated there was some problem?"
"Lara Croft is alive," Ikari told him. "She's here, now."
"Damn!" Kaji replied. "I knew I should have checked."
"No matter. Trapping her for the time she was trapped served
its purpose just as well. Her son will not leave the program
willingly now; he has too much time and energy invested in it.
However, she would easily recognize you if you were to put in an
appearance, and would undoubtedly be quite angry with you, so I think
it best if you keep away until she leaves."
"When will that be?"
"I will let you know when she's gone. Do you have the
samples?"
"Everything's with me and in good condition. Phase Two of the
Human Instrumentality Program is proceeding on schedule."
"Excellent. I look forward to meeting with you. Keep out of
sight and wait for my all-clear. Goodbye, Mr. Kaji."
"Goodbye, Professor."
Ikari hung up and sat back.
The Croft family as a whole was starting to become quite
inconvenient.
"Wonderful girl!" DJ, back in suit, trenchcoat and hat,
remarked to Misato as the two walked down the gangway from the freshly
docked Deutschland into the gathering evening in New Providence
Harbor, Rhode Island. "Either I'm going to kill her, or I'm beginning
to like her."
Misato chuckled. "She can be a little abrasive, but you'd
better get used to her - she's going to be living with us."
DJ sighed exaggeratedly, shoving his hands in his pockets and
slouching. "She's the sort of girl my mum always warned me about."
One of the white Land Rovers used by NERV as staff vehicles
was parked at dockside; presently, the driver's door opened, and
Ritsuko Akagi emerged, sporting a nasty-looking, darkening bruise on
the left side of her jaw.
"Hi, Ritsuko - hey, what happened?" Misato asked.
"Run into a door or something?" DJ wondered.
"Not exactly," came a voice so familiar, but so unexpected, it
almost stopped DJ's heart; and as he stared, dumbfounded, at the Land
Rover, Lara Croft got out of the passenger side and walked smiling
around the front end.
Silently, DJ ran to her, and mother and son enjoyed a
long-overdue embrace.
Asuka, walking up beside Misato, asked, "Who's that?"
"DJ's mother," was the reply.
"Oh. Does that means he's leaving?"
"I don't know," Misato replied, biting her lip. "I don't
know."
/* The Marcels "Blue Moon" _Billboard Top Rock 'n Roll Hits: 1961_ */
NEXT EPISODE:
Asuka takes charge.
Truss does laundry.
Dr. Ikari shows some faith.
Misato and DJ come closer together.
And circumstances threaten to push them all apart.
Coming in seven days:
NEON EXODUS EVANGELION 1:7
ALONE IN THE DARK
COMING 8/13/97
"It's part of you, after all, and to me, that makes it beautiful."