Victor Meyer thoughtfully twirled a pencil in his hand, boring into it with an unblinking gaze, although the picture sent to his brain by his eyes passed by his thoughts. The contrast with his previous place of work was striking. In general, the structure of NERV itself was not particularly different, both in Germany and in Japan this bizarre hybrid of civilian and military structure was the same, shocking the unfamiliar viewers with absurdities surprising for both, but Victor had already gotten used to this over five years of service. Which, however, did not prevent him from periodically spitting in the corner and saying to himself, in a kind German word, what he thought about the actions of the leadership. So from this side the only difference was in the proximity of higher authorities and nothing more. The contrast was in something else - in the object of his immediate work. More precisely, objects.
Since childhood, Meyer was interested in history, especially the Middle Ages, not a very surprising and significant hobby, if not for one "but", Meyer went a little further than his "couch colleagues" and decided to find out from his own experience what it was like to carry full knightly armor and wave a two-handed sword. So he found himself among fans of historical fencing. For a teenager, this turned out to be much more interesting than running around the field with a ball, and his father, who himself in his youth had played hundreds of hours in a club for sport fencing with swords, greatly approved of his son's hobby, so at first Victor got involved, and then the childhood hobby gradually grew into something more. Neither his studies nor the army particularly affected this aspect of the lieutenant's life, exactly until the moment when NERV urgently needed an instructor specifically for working with a heavy blade. How and where they looked for candidates for Mayer remained a mystery, but one fine day "Paper" came down to his unit, and already in the evening the transfer of the newly-minted instructor was formalized, and all his affairs were miraculously transferred to his replacements. And everything would be fine - a large salary, no risk of getting shot during another business trip, a much freer life and finally doing what he loved, but two circumstances spoiled everything. Firstly, as is known, when a hobby becomes a job it stops bringing pleasure, but it was still possible to put up with this if he had to teach people like him - people who really wanted it. But then it turned out secondly - there were no people. There was a little girl. And there was her curator - a man whose face Mayer wanted to smash in the very first moment of meeting, although he had not noticed such impulses in himself before. But to the great regret of the newly-minted lieutenant, and the rank was promoted along with the transfer, the first impression turned out to be devilishly true.
The girl, despite her difficult character, was talented. And if she had been handled well, the results would have been excellent and even her character would have quickly improved, but then the curator intervened. "Asuka, don't overwork yourself... You're doing great as it is... No need to torment yourself like this... Come on, Lieutenant, she's still a child, and a girl at that, show some leniency... I'm her curator and I think she's showing great results and four hours a week will be enough... Relax, Lieutenant, Aska is doing great and that's probably enough classes for today." And so on and so forth. Moreover, this unshaven fop almost always had these conversations in the girl's presence, completely ignoring not only hints, but direct offers from Mayer to talk aside and generally not caring about Victor's opinion. It is not surprising that the girl very quickly developed the conviction that the instructor did not appreciate her and was picky, but Captain Ryoji became a kind of hero-savior. Moreover, this "captain", who was in fact a civilian punk, behaved like this in almost all of the girl's classes, which completely spoiled her. It was worth pressing a little during training, as he appears and with a condescending smile declares that "This is not necessary, for the Eva pilot.", and then generally cuts the allotted time. Naturally, in such a situation, almost half of the base personnel dreamed of beating his face, although there is also merit in the other side of the curator, namely the fact that he was a first-class dog, the most impudent breed. But what you can't take away from the bastard is the ability to feel when it is time to run away, which, however, did not prevent him from continuing to bend his line.
And there is simply nowhere to go, since this "captain" is directly subordinate to the central headquarters of NERV and is accountable almost only to the Commander himself. It was useless to talk to the girl herself, either she simply does not understand, or does not understand and tells Ryoji, and he will convince her that she is the best, and everyone who says otherwise is just picking on her. Criticizing the beloved captain, proving that he is wrong, is generally an empty matter, it will only get worse. So it turns out that the talented girl, because of such an attitude, simply ruins all the efforts of both the coach and herself, gradually turning into that very representative of the "golden youth", who is allowed everything, and she does not even suspect that there are other ways.
Arriving in Japan, Victor was mentally prepared to face the same situation, with spoiled children who sacredly believed in their exclusivity and infallibility, and therefore the reality turned out to be even more shocking than it could have been. No, at first, Mayer honestly thought that the children's indifferent looks were just another facet of "star fever", but then... the only thought was - "And they said that there were no samurai left in Japan..." No, they did not own weapons, but their character, seriousness towards their studies and some... melancholy, perhaps, directed at others and at themselves... Bordering on complete indifference to everything in the world, including their own pain and fatigue... "The famous samurai spirit?" Victor did not know, and it was unusual to meet such a thing in almost children, especially if you remember his previous student. Here... Not a single expressive emotion flashed across the faces of both of his new students during the entire conversation, and the questions the guy asked did not fit the image of a child at all. Take, for example, how he managed to put together almost a complete picture of Meyer's life over the past few years from a couple of slips of the tongue, and about the existence of another pilot, and his character, and Victor's attitude towards him, and he probably also understood about the friction with the command. And this is a fourteen-year-old child? No, of course, one can assume that he could have known everything in advance, but somehow it is hard to believe. Although the fact that the guy is a lieutenant, and not a junior, like the other two pilots, makes you think...
Suddenly the lieutenant's thoughts returned to the very beginning of the meeting and to Captain Katsuragi's reaction. At that moment he did not pay attention to it... or rather considered the glances thrown by the girl as another confirmation of the "special attitude towards pilots", and it seemed like this Shinji was the son of the Commander himself, but now... There was something wrong in those glances, not the fear of angering the "golden child" and as a result getting a dressing down from the authorities, Meyer had seen more than enough of such glances over the past couple of years, but no. There was... there was... apprehension... tense apprehension, not too obvious and obviously not for the current situation, but... habitual. The conditioned reflex of any military man when meeting with the command, even when everything is fine and there is nothing to find fault with, composure and readiness for trouble arises inside. The captain was afraid of the guy's reaction itself, not the consequences from the authorities, but of him himself! As if he himself was more dangerous than any reaction of the command.
And for some reason, such a thought did not cause rejection, with its external absurdity. How can a captain be afraid of a lieutenant? How can an adult be afraid of a child? But for some reason, Victor was now sure that he really could. He could not say exactly where this confidence came from, but it was there. Although...
Meyer stopped twirling the pencil and stared unblinkingly at its tip. "Exactly!" "The eyes." The guy's eyes, or rather his gaze, were the gaze of a man accustomed (!) to killing, or to seeing death. A man for whom another's life meant exactly as much as the bullet fired into his head. In other words, a man for whom another's life meant nothing. And considering that this guy controls perhaps the most powerful weapon on the planet, the captain's attitude becomes understandable.
The lieutenant's spine tingled with realization of the situation. He had previously thought that Langley was the worst possible pilot, but now he realized that he had been very wrong. Langley was a spoiled but manageable child, there were levers of pressure on her, even the piloting that she adored so much, but how do you manage a person who doesn't care about the world around you? How do you trust a weapon comparable to a nuclear bomb to a person who obeys only as long as he wants to?...
Victor shook his head and put down his pencil. "Too many conclusions based on feelings. Everything could be completely different, the children could have swallowed a bunch of sedatives, and here I have built a whole theory of the end of the world. And the captain's words... who knows what she could be afraid of? I, too, was once ready to run from the supply room, as soon as another Yankovsky pop song appeared on the screen." Sighing, the German threw the disturbing thoughts out of his head and got up from the table, it was approaching lunchtime, so instead of empty thoughts it would be much wiser to go to the dining room...
***
"Shinji, can I have a word with you?" Misato peered through the doorway. Rei and I were just drinking tea on the balcony as usual, looking at the evening city and listening to music.
After that interesting dinner, Misato, contrary to expectations, did not immediately seek a heart-to-heart talk, or exchange any hints from the series - "Did I understand what? And what to expect from me?", instead, we were simply taken to a lesson on paired tactics and left absolutely calmly. At least, outwardly Katsuragi demonstrated complete calm and even some carelessness.
The class itself was a lecture, but as we were immediately pleased - in the future there will be practical classes. I do not remember anything significant about it. The lecturer was a graying man with a face in which both European and Asian features were mixed, who introduced himself as Sergeant Lee and did not talk about his identity any more. He explained well, succinctly, clearly and distinctly, while not skimping on colorful examples, in other words - he chewed it up well, so that even complete blockheads with atrophied logical thinking would be able to absorb the material. Probably the class was supposed to be a seminar, but... it did not work out.
Taking my earphone out of my left ear, I handed it to Ayanami along with the player, earning her a distant, interested look, which she responded to by calmingly closing her eyes, and silently followed Misato.
- Is this about yesterday morning or today's conversation in the dining room? - I sit down on a chair and look at the captain, taking a sip of cold tea. It is already becoming some kind of tradition - to have serious conversations while sitting in the kitchen...
- Um... - Katsuragi was slightly embarrassed, apparently remembering yesterday morning. - Well, Shin... You see... I was really scared then, what are you saying, well... And then there was the hangover... yeah... - The girl blushed shyly, looking away. - Anyway, sorry, I was a little inadequate and decided to check everything, but I couldn't think of anything smarter.
- That's pretty much what I understood. And you forgive me too, I had to pretend to be asleep and not throw dirty jokes, so we were both not quite adequate. But I hope my little performance in front of Hikari raised your spirits?
- Oh yeah... - Misato smiled contentedly, clearly relaxed, probably because the misunderstanding was resolved, and a moment later, remembering the visit of the headman, she giggled. - And you still do all this on purpose! - they pointed an accusing finger at me. - And you deliberately created the same situations with me!
- I don't create such situations, they create themselves, for this you just need to adhere to my usual behavior, people will do the rest themselves. Although I won't lie, it can be fun, after all, the fact that I don't show emotions doesn't mean that I don't have any.
- I see... - Katsuragi thoughtfully tugged at a lock of hair that had fallen out of her hairdo. - And is it the same with Rei?
"No," I put the empty glass down and leaned back. "I don't show emotions on purpose, I just don't see the point in it, you could say I'm too lazy. And Ray just doesn't know how to do it."
- He can't? - a surprised look from brown eyes.
- Exactly. Or rather, she doesn't know how to do it the way most people do.
- How does she do it?
- With her eyes. With her body. With the bare minimum of facial expressions, practically unnoticeable even if you look very closely. But she has feelings and emotions, and very strong ones at that, I'm telling you this as a person who has synchronized with her.
- And what does she feel?
- Misato, we're getting really personal here.
- Oh... Sorry, - the girl perked up. - We've been chatting for too long... Actually, I wanted to talk about what Maya said...
- About some kind of "pseudo-pilot"?
- Uh-huh... - but nothing more, she remains silent and attentively waits for my reaction. It seems she doesn't want to develop the topic herself...
- I would venture to guess that this is some kind of autopilot analogue for Evangelions, or a remote control system? - Misato nodded slowly, still remaining silent. - And ideally, if the project is successfully completed, there will be no need for real pilots? - Another tense nod. - Well, what do you want to hear from me?
- What do you mean? - it seems that with my last question I distracted her from some thought.
- Well, I'm not going to throw a tantrum about "How can you do this to us?!", especially since developing such a system is natural. And I don't believe that you'll succeed, the most you can do is artificially cause "Berserk", which will get you in trouble.
- And these works don't bother you at all?
- No more than anything else.
"What's really bothering you? What's causing you the most anxiety?" Misato asked, looking me intently in the eye. And you can't tell that she was giggling casually a few seconds ago. "Don't tell me there aren't such things! I know you too well."
- Hmm... - I barely restrain myself from openly grinning. - A controversial statement. But as for the question... I'm worried that you might do something stupid.
- I?!!
- Well, not me, - I shrug casually. - Judge for yourself, you are impulsive, emotional, clearly do not have access to the main secrets of NERV and at the same time have a very developed sense of justice, and as today has shown, not a little curiosity. Yes, you can easily get into trouble, accidentally or not so accidentally stumbling upon some unsightly skeleton in the closet of the organization. And unlike me, you do not even have the appearance of immunity, since it is extremely difficult to replace the pilot of Evangelion, but the head of the operations department is a piece of cake.
- And you think NERV has such skeletons?
- Of course, did you think otherwise?
The girl sighed heavily and looked down at the table.
- Still, sometimes you are too mature, Shinji...
- Maybe. However, it doesn't change the fact that I have no desire to find out one day that you died in a car accident, "losing control."
- Okay... - Misato moved away, resting her hands on the edge of the table and closing her eyes. - Okay... - a second's pause. - But aren't you interested in knowing the truth yourself?
- What? About NERV being a dirty company? Well, they're all dirty, the ones that are even slightly serious. And I don't need the unappetizing details. Or are you interested in "Gendo's Secret Plan"? Well, I doubt that if it exists, my dear daddy has let anyone in on it.
- Hmm... - the girl drawled dully, propping her chin on her hand and staring thoughtfully into the corner of the kitchen. - As sad as it is to admit, but unfortunately you are right.
- If it makes you feel any better, my conclusions are highly biased and may not be true. Remember, you are talking to a fourteen-year-old teenager who is offended by the whole world, I am by definition not objective.
- Pff-f!... - Misato didn't exactly choke, but expressed her emotions quite expressively. - You, yeah-h-h... And anyway, what was that just now? Started up your, well, that... in short, are you making fun of the commander!?
- A little.
- Ulcer!
- Sorry.
- You bastard!
- Hmm... Don't you think this scene lacks Rey's presence?
- Tch!... - Katsuragi pressed a clenched fist to her mouth, almost biting the phalanx of her index finger, but this did not help her to restrain or, even more so, hide the smile that had crawled onto her face.
"Okay, if we're done with serious conversations for today, then I'll be going," I get up from the table and head to the kettle to pour myself some fresh tea before returning to the balcony. "And, by the way, you could join in."
"Is this a proposal?" the girl raised her eyebrow slyly.
"Don't count on my hand and heart, I'm too depraved, but I'll provide a date," I said completely calmly and dispassionately, already leaving the kitchen with two full glasses.
There was silence for a couple of seconds, and then the apartment was filled with sacred words:
- SCUM!!!