NARRATOR: IN THE LAST EPISODE, THERE WAS MUCH FIGHTING AND STORY. JAMES APPEARS TO HAVE MET HIS MATCH IN THE SHIKIMA... OR NOT. MIKO IS GIVEN HER FIRST MISSION FOR BRANCH-X. PLENTY IS GOING ON IN NERV, AND MAYBE THE CREW WILL GET SOME PROPER OFFICES... MAYBE. ======================================================================== Warnings: Not much Plot this time, just a lot of setup Lots and lots of dialogue Casual use of explicit language Present-tense descriptions ======================================================================== C&C, Flames, Anything, welcome at: rick_spiff@yahoo.com Posted at Insanity Production's home page: http://www.geocities.com/rick_spiff/ ~ Begin fic ~ [Opening Music is Metallica's 'Enter Sandman' played very loudly. A montage of shots flash by to the bars of the song, mostly of the Sidestep cast and various Eva characters dressed in kick-ass clothes and shooting things out of frame. Splattered here and there among the characters are various explosions for variety.] [Music cuts out.] [INT. JAMES' APARTMENT - LATE AFTERNOON.] [The place has been hastily, but expertly repaired. Dark curtains cover the balcony doors and all the apartment's buildings. The lights are low. Shadows seem to grow from the floors. James lays upon the couch like a beached fish, covered in a grey blanket.] James: (whispering as though in great pain) Dear sweet fucking God. I can't remember ever feeling this bad. [He lies in the darkness for a moment longer, not a limb stirring. Presently, there is a knock at the front door.] James: (still whispering) Go. [He pauses, as if weighing the awesome amount of effort required to speak loudly enough to be heard against the need to continue breathing.] James: (barely louder) Away. Miko: (through door) I'm coming in! James: (grumbling) Fucking wonderful.... [The door opens obediently, allowing Miko into the apartment. She immediately makes a bee-line for James and the couch.] Miko: My goodness, are you okay? James: (eyes clenched) Not. So. Loud. Miko: (whispering) Are you okay? James: Do I _look_ okay? Miko: (blinks) You're under a blanket. James: Might go into shock. Can't get too cold. Miko: What the hell happened to you? James: Your father and my (the quotation marks are audible in his voice) 'better half' I had a little talk. [Miko raises a slim, dainty hand to her mouth in shock. Her eyes widen for a moment, then narrow in anger.] Miko: What did he do to you? James: He didn't do anything. His henchmen attacked me and then-- Miko: Who? Which henchmen? I'll have their heads on a-- James: (hands over ears) Not so loud. Miko: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. James: Apology accepted. [An uncomfortable pause intrudes on the conversation.] Miko: What happened? James: Your father sent some of his demons... well, you know, after me. They were just supposed to invite me over. Apparently they misunderstood, so he sent someone else... or was it two of them? Over here, to meet me, and make sure I was okay. He really just wanted to talk. Anyway, I got splashed with some cold water. Miko: Your curse.... James: Yeah. The next thing I remembered was being male, throwing up in your father's... well, bedroom. [The woman scratches the side of her head in a questioning manner.] Miko: You know, that doesn't sound very unusual. [James opens an eye to glare at her.] Miko: (nervously) I mean, besides the whole bit about his bedroom being molded from that weird... blue... fungus that makes phallic shaped... uh.... Ahem. James: (dryly) Indeed. Miko: So... that's it? That's why you're not feeling well? [James turns his head slightly to gaze blankly at he ceiling. It's plain something deep is bothering him, and he doesn't want it to bother him.] James: (with great effort) I don't want to talk about it yet. [Miko, who was about to caress James' face, pulls her hand back slowly, reluctantly.] Miko: If you ever do, you know, I'll be here.... James: Yeah. I know. It'll be a while. Will there be anything else? Miko: Does work know? James: Why are you here? Miko: I haven't seen you-- James: Since yesterday. How did your meeting with Dave go? [Miko draws her mouth into a tight, angry line and crosses her arms.] Miko: (icy) Things went well. He wants me to tag along with some guy in case something happens to him. James: A little spy work. That's good, we're terribly short handed. Miko: It... it isn't dangerous? James: Contrary to what the movies would have you believe, no. It's only very rarely dangerous. Have a good time, spend some company money for me. And don't get too bored. Miko: You're angry about something. James: After what happened to me, be thankful you're still alive. [Miko face shows only shock. After a second of stunned silence, she gets to her feet and marches right out of the apartment without another word.] James: (to himself) That could have went better. ---------- Title card: SIDESTEP:EVANGELION Episode 6: See What Condition My Condition Was In/ Just One Kidney... ---------- [INT. NERV HQ CONFERENCE ROOM.] [This conference room is modern, industrial, and perfectly normal. The litter of an afternoon meeting covers the huge table. The only two people who remain in the room are James and Dave. Dave is wearing the ever-present suit, while James is wearing an undershirt with a dark windbreaker, unbuttoned, and a pair of black pants. The room's lights are dimmed quite a bit, leaving the two to rest their eyes.] James: God, it's been a long day. Dave: It's three seventeen in the afternoon, James. James: That is long. Dave: You came into work at eleven forty. James: True, but I was at a murder scene at six this morning. Dave: Oh? Where at? [James fetches a tiny notebook from his pants and flips through it until he finds what he is looking for.] Dave: You know, you have a PDA for that kind of thing. [Dave then calmly ignores the tongue stuck out in his direction.] James: 1302, two hundred and fifty-first street, apartment 26-F. Rather ghastly scene. Dave: Okay. I'd rather not hear the details yet. James: Don't fret, the repair man did it. Dave: (questioning grunt) Hunh? James: (waves dismissively) I'll have a report in later. Dave: You feeling better? James: It's been a week. Yeah, I'm feeling better. Dave: Getting more adjusted? [James starts to look uncomfortable.] James: Oh, a little bit. What else did you get on the Shikima? Dave: Those documents were quite handy. A stroke of genius I signed her up with us. James: (flatly) Genius. Right. Dave: Anyway, our records are still incomplete, but I'm surprised we got as much as we did. James: Must make a fantastic reading. Dave: (serious) James, you've got nothing to worry about. James: Correction. I have one thing less to worry about. Dave: That's true. The effects of the demons' secretions are only temporary, but as for your curse... that'll be around for a long time. James: Until death, and sometime beyond. Hmm. That's really the root of the problem. Dave: It is. And I have a solution for you. James: Really? Dave: I say we take advantage of your condition. [James narrows his eyebrows suspiciously.] Dave: Think about it like this: You sneak into a place, grab something important, add a splash of cold water, and walk right out--no one's the wiser. They see two different people. Hell, you could ring every alarm in sight and walk away; the guards wouldn't be looking for your female side. James: You've mentioned this before. Dave: Hey, it's a good idea. James: Sometimes I hate it when you're right. Dave: But I'm right all the same. [Too true.] James: Message received. I suppose you already have a wardrobe ready? Dave: No, but that can be taken care of later. [James nods in the affirmative, we'll-talk-later kind of way.] Dave: Now, how about a name? James: Now there's something I've been thinking about. Dave: How does Arcana sound? [James has a slightly stunned look on his face.] James: Wow. That's... actually pretty good. [Dave pulls a cigar from his jacket.] Dave: 'Pretty good'? James: Okay, okay. I'll let you know later if it fits. [Dave puts the cigar between his teeth, but doesn't move to light it.] Dave: I know we covered this in the meeting, but how's the loader coming along? James: I don't know the details right now, but last I checked, the gyro system was one hundred percent. There were some structural issues left to be resolved in the legs. Ed's holding off on building a complete torso until they've ironed out the last of the power calculations. Dave: That was probably what he was working on today instead of attending our meeting. James: Yeah, well, of all of us, he seems the furtherest behind. That reminds me, what's up with all of these shipments to Hong Kong? Dave: (shrugs) Hong Kong has a port. After Second Impact, it still has the best one in that area of the world, you know that. James: Are we staging equipment there? Dave: You've killed the bush, James. You should have stopped beating it earlier. Yes, we are staging equipment there. Yes, there's going to be a new base. No, we don't know exactly where it will be. James: Thank you. Just curious, you understand. Dave: (sighs) Yes. I understand. [EXT. GRASSY PLAIN - DAY.] [Ohio, 2007. The land here is torn and withered, as if uncertain what it is to become, and is being slowly strangled to death by all of its impulses at work against one another. To the far west lies the horizon, a band of dull blue marking a large river, or perhaps a newly formed lake. To the east lays a super-modern metropolis; a forest of steel and glass, cast in great spires, like the fingers of an unimaginably large crystal lain upon this bare stretch of earth.] [Known only as the Ohio State International Engineering Park, this miniature city of invention is filled to the brim with talent like a tank full of chum. Among the engineers swim the real movers and shakers of the business world, the sharks who sample every discipline and device the "Park" produces like gourmet wine tasters.] [The Entrance Hall is a sight unlike any other. Carved entirely from a block of aluminum and clear acrylic made especially for the Park, it is a maze of twisting mirror surfaces and reality-warping lenses. Fluid and graceful, like a lion caught in its most private moment, it swallows visitors up, transporting them, with a glance, to a place not imagined ever before on this world.] [Damn, this is some good stuff.] [Standing before the entrance, a silver coin flipping endlessly across his dry, manicured fingers, is Maxim Coltrane. A tall man who is the epitome of the words 'successful businessman,' he wears a grey suit with a price tag rivaling that of some automobiles. A gold Rolex, easily five decades old and still keeping time better than its digital replacement, adorns the man's thick wrist. Built like a fire plug, he stands as if infused with Eldrich powers, lording over whatever domain his eyes happen upon.] Maxim: (nodding to himself) Today, it all begins. [He walks through the huge glass doors and up to the front desk, nodding at the odd nerdy-looking engineers as he passes them. The front desk is controlled by a receptionist, a young woman of average beauty and Mexican descent.] Maxim: Good morning, Marlene. What's new? Marlene: Morning, Mr. Coltrane. Two new appointments this Tuesday, two and three p.m. respectively. Their itinerary is on your e-mail. And a Jack Carlson is here to see you. [Coltrane looks at one of the many warped walls, seeing Jack's reflection. Jack Carlson looks about sixty-five years old, twelve feet long, a man who lives life lying down... though the twisted lenses of the Entrance Hall's strange walls, that is. Jack is a blond-haired, green eyed wonder kid of 31 youthful looking years. He has a mild year-round tan and his hands are weathered from working them hard and long. His eyes bore into the distance, his face the picture of a man who's walked through Hell and even today cannot stop seeing what he witnessed within. His green eyes are the most alive part of his body. Constantly shifting, moving from object to object, remembering, analyzing, marking; they guess at dimensions and purposes, measuring their target's worth, wondering if it could somehow be improved.] Maxim: (extending a hand) Jack, good to see you, my boy. I'm Maxim Coltrane. Call me Max. Jack: (rising to shake Maxim's hand) Call me Jack, but... I guess you already did. [The two chuckle at the joke, then Maxim starts down the Hall, towards the glass dome beyond. Jack follows a half step behind and just abreast of the man.] Maxim: This area is called the Hall, designed by some French guy who's name I can't remember-- Jack: Laquires something-or-other, sir. Maxim: Hmm. Most impressive. You've been here before? Jack: Just read a few books, sir. Maxim: Good, maybe I can provide some useful information. (pointing) These are the main elevators. There's three separate underground levels, with the second basement going under the river. The third level is mostly for research and isn't normally open to the public. The top level is our first stop. (points up) Like the view? [The "view" is one of those things that sticks in your mind like a pound of mercury. Every type of classical engineering feat from the days of the ancient civilizations whose names escape the modern world, on to the most recent times, as the principles of physics and math were learned and re-learned. The elevators are made of Plexiglas and polished steel. Each is clear and glittering, like a diamond carriage.] Jack: Its wonderful, but what's it all for? Maxim: (points up the finger of information) Utility and information. People need this space to work. Said space contains the proper tools for people to _do_ their work, and information to make their work easier. [The clear elevator doors open, and Jack and Maxim enter.] Jack: Ah. You know, I like these elevators. You can see how many people are inside, waiting to leave. Maxim: However, the elevators no longer have any privacy, but the real question is, does that constitute a design flaw? Jack: Should an elevator be private? [The older man looks at the younger, as if measuring Jack's morals by sight.] Maxim: I suppose that depends on who you ask. [EXT. TOKYO-3 STREET - DAY.] [We pause time for a little one-on-one lecture. James is sitting on a handy bench. Across the street is a convention center (the Asurigawa Convention Center, no less), and behind James is a plaza for outdoor activities. Usually this area is filled with people doing martial arts of all kinds at all hours of the day. The traffic is frozen in the street as a result of our little manipulation of time.] James: ... ? [The assassin turns around to look at the camera, a scowl upon his face. He is silent for several seconds, then....] James: .... What? WHAT?! [Ooookay. Time snaps back to normal and James shrugs, then returns to his regular position, doing... whatever he was doing before you interrupted him. Shame on you.] [INT. COLTRANE'S OFFICE - DAY.] [Coltrane's office is a bit unusual, sporting a garden beneath its glass floor. Otherwise, it's pretty normal. Piles of papers cover nearly every available surface. A simple desktop computer bravely holds one corner of Coltrane's desk like a squad of Marines fighting the paper hordes to the last man.... Err... monitor. File cabinets virtually line the walls, enclosing the office within a second wall of metal and paper. Coltrane is seated behind the room's single, small desk, while Jack is relaxing a very strange looking (though very comfortable) chair.] Maxim: (working at his computer) Sorry to ignore you like this. I have a few things that need taking care of. Jack: It's all right. You're not wasting my time. Maxim: (looks at Jack curiously for a second) Well, yes. I wouldn't want to either. Here's something we can go take a look at; we'll add it to the tour for today. Jack: Okay. Maxim: The project is number K-72. Implementation and Operation of a Solid State, Continuous Feed Rocket Propellant Process. Someone had the bright idea of engineering a solid state rocket that you could stop burning before you consumed all of your fuel. [Maxim gets out of his chair and the two exit the office and start walking through a maze of corridors.] Jack: Why would you want to stop the burn process? Maxim: Simple. Solid rocket propellant is stable and far easier to handle than liquid propellant, which is usually made of noxious stuff like liquid oxygen and pure hydrogen peroxide and liquid hydrogen--you know the kinds of things I'm talking about. Nasty, caustic chemicals that are expensive to store. Solid propellant is easy to store by comparison. Keep it cool and dry, that's it. Jack: I see. Solid fuel is like model rocket engines. One burst and they're spent. So, if you could somehow control the burn process like a regular rocket engine, you could virtually replace the regular rocket motors with a safer propellant. Maxim: Exactly, exactly, exactly. Now, I'm not that familiar with rocketry myself, but I've learned a lot here lately. You see, my company is financing some of this research for their communication satellites. It can be pretty expensive to replace one because of a bad insertion burn. With this technology, we may be able to salvage a slightly off-course satellite. The problem we have now is that the pellets are hard to make. Jack: Sounds about as safe as trying to make dynamite in a paint shaker. Maxim: (chuckles) Exactly right. So, we've got a process of sorts, and K-72 is supposed to refine that process into something practical. The whole project was put on hold back in 1996 and rediscovered by accident just a year back. I put it in motion because we lost fourteen billion dollars on a bad burn last year. Can't do anything with a communications satellite spinning its way to the moon, now can we? [We pan away from the pair, pulling back through a set of windows and panning over the entire Park.] Jack: (Voice Over) Amazing. I can't believe that this place was built during the seven years I spent repairing civilization. I thought I was the great engineer; engineer to the core. That's what I _was_. I was an engineer of lives. If you'd asked me a year ago what I wanted to do with my life, I'd tell you I'm already doing it. [We pull back even further and move to a spot along the ground where the sun peaks through a space between two tall, cylindrical buildings. The shadow of the Ohio Engineering Park reaches out over the weather-worn fields of dead and dying grass; the fingers of a dark force spoken of only in whispers.] Jack: (Voice Over) Now I've been offered an amazing job at an amazing company. Shaking the hand of an amazing man like Maxim Coltrane, why do I feel like I'm signing a contract with the devil? [INT. OHIO ENGINEERING PARK - DAY.] [At approximately the same time Jack is having his talk with Maxim, Miko Mido is in the middle of a group of tourists, doing her job. For the moment, she's simply taking everything in. Her eyes watch for exits here and there, but other than that and making a few notes (her cover as a college student is perfect), she does nothing out of the ordinary.] [Cue flashback effects.] [EXT. TOKYO-3 STREET - DAY.] [James and Miko stand at a random street corner in the east commercial district. James is wearing the ever-present trench coat, despite the 90-degree weather. Miko is wearing her school uniform and holding her book bag. James is in basic lecture mode, paying careful attention to what he says in order to avoid The Rant.] James: The first lesson you need to learn, Miko, is that you never know who is watching. That's what spy work is. You gather knowledge, and you simply guess at what the other side knows. You don't reveal anything, and you don't bother to figure out where they're hiding--you have better things to do. Miko: So I'm just supposed to take notes? James: Pretty much. You're already a college student. Touring this Engineering Park is perfectly normal for you. Take notes, send them back here. Miko: What about meeting this engineer? James: That's the rest of spy work, really. You just talk to him. Miko: About what? 'Hello, I'm a spy from an ultra-secret branch of a United Nations agency based in Japan...' James: Not hardly. What would you talk about? Miko: (fidgets with her book bag for a few seconds while she thinks of an answer) Um.... James: Not sex, right? Miko: About his days in college. What he does for a living. What am I supposed to talk about? James: Those things exactly. Just get to know the guy. You need to have a measure of who he is and what he's doing. Miko: So I make friends with him, then drill him about his past. James: What else do you do to your friends? Miko: ... James: Ask them about sex. (as Miko nods) I'm sensing a pattern here. Look, this isn't as hard as it sounds. You won't be facing anyone more dangerous than your normal guy on the street, you aren't getting information that any yahoo with a notebook can't get, you're just working for us while you're doing it. Miko: So I'm just some yahoo with a notebook? [James goes silent. A handful of people walk by the virtually deserted corner. A moment of word-less communication goes by before James opens his mouth again.] James: Yeah, but you're one damn cute yahoo with a notebook. [Miko giggles and does a spin in place.] James: Nice. Polka dots today? Miko: Oops.... Um, you don't mind, right? [James doesn't say anything, but his cheeks redden slightly.] [End flashback.] Miko: (thinking as she walks with the group of tourists) That bastard. If he likes me, why doesn't he just say something? He was really pissed that one morning, but dad said they patched things up. Then, he 'volunteers' to train me before we leave, and even though he's acting nice and everything, he isn't up to a little roll in the hay? Ooooh! MEN! [INT. EXPENSIVE HOTEL ROOM - EVENING.] [A rather nice hotel room, with two beds and a bathroom with brass fittings and a claw-footed tub. The windows face south, allowing a nice view of the city of Turmapeke three stories below. A newly founded town, built of two clashing styles: the utilitarian concrete of the rebuilding post Second Impact, and the fancier, newer architecture of a bustling hub of tourism. Like many hotel rooms, the colors are primarily dark browns, greens, and blues.] Jack: Not the greatest view. [Miko stands near the windows, looking in the direction of the city without really paying attention to anything. Jack stands behind her, holding a couple of cold sodas. For the duration of this scene, Miko is speaking surprisingly good English, but seems to understand only about half of what Jack is saying.] Miko: I didn't notice. (taking one of the sodas) Thanks. Jack: It's the least I can do. I don't think I'll be able to answer your questions very well. Miko: (thinking) How Japanese. (out loud) Looks like I'll find that out for myself. Jack: Okay... ask away. Miko: Right. First question: When did you finish college? Jack: Hmm... that would have been in 1998. Yes, I was twenty-five then. Miko: What was your degree? Jack: Mechanical Engineering. It was a grueling four years of utter hell, but I kinda liked it. Miko: So, was your family proud about you earning your degree? Jack: Well, they expected it, I think. Back then there wasn't anything I felt I couldn't do, except graduate college. My family knew I could. They had all the faith I needed. Miko: They must be very special to you. Jack: They are in my memories. Miko: (pauses for a moment) What did you do after graduation? Jack: I had a few job offers about, which wasn't surprising. I think, of a starting class of sixty, only fifteen people graduated. Miko: My class started with only thirty-one, but we're down to twenty-five now. Jack: Four-year degree? Miko: Not yet. I'm doing prep work for my four-year. Jack: That's still pretty good. Mostly people don't want to be an engineer after the first few math classes. Miko: Heh. (thinks of her latest math test--"D") Yeah, that _can_ bother some people. Well, who'd you work for? Jack: Oh. I had a nice letter from Boeing offering steady employment, some offer for quickie work in the area, all by contract. Then there was a third offer, from NASA. Miko: The U.S. Space Administration wanted you to work for them? Jack: I'd done some work in the Aerospace area. Heck, part of my Thesis work was aerospace related. Anyway, it looked like lots of neat theoretical stuff, but I wondered about the practicality of it. Anyway, I went down there, to Florida, and met some Texan nut who wanted me to work for the "gummament" Miko: Gumma-what? Jack: That's how he pronounced 'government.' Miko: Oh. Jack: (slightly uncomfortable; that was supposed to be a joke) Yeah. Ahem. He took me on a long tour of the place, then ran me by some people that worked in the same area. Not the best place to work, I'd admit, but the pay was level with the rest of the industry, and they offered to pay off my educational loans. Miko: So you went to work for NASA. Jack: It was worthwhile, but I'm still damn confused as to why Second Impact happened without any warning at all, considering how many PhD's they had working there. Spy satellites flyin' all over the place, space shuttles up and down every few weeks, a space station on the drawing boards.... How could a meteorite that large wipe out an entire continent just--(snaps fingers)--like that? [Miko shrugs at the rhetorical question.] Jack: You know what makes me wonder? (plows ahead without a response from Miko) What makes me wonder if how they missed a rock--comet, whatever--that friggin' big, when they had all those scientists and atmospheric experiments down there. The air temperature over the south pole had to be down to at least eighty below. Clear skies, probably the last of the season, and they never even knew what hit them. Weird. (finishes off his soda) Sorry, I'm just rambling. Miko: That's okay. To hear your personal thoughts is important. Jack: It is? Miko: Yes, for the interview. I already know what happened in the history books--this is your story about what you learned and what you think of the world. Jack: Okay. I guess I really missed the obvious. Miko: No, that's okay. I shouldn't be lecturing. Jack: Yeah, you were asking the questions. Miko: ... (blinks) Oh yeah. Why don't we just continue from Second Impact? Jack: You want to hear about my profession or just hear my opinion? Miko: (thinks for a second) A little of both couldn't hurt. Jack: Okay, SI. (he takes a deep breath and blows it out) All right. Right after SI, everything was complete chaos. I'd hear ten different things from ten different people. I swear, if I asked for directions, I'd be lucky to get more than a blank stare. Most everybody was just in shock. The major cities were all flooded, and both business and society as we know it came to a halt. The first really important thing I remember doing was shoring up a river. I helped place sandbags, and after a short while, I was directing work efforts. I can't even remember the name of the city I was in. The whole place has been underwater for years now. Most of the men and I only had to keep the hospital from being flooded before they could evacuate. It was a mess. Ironically, it was my schooling that saved the day. Miko: You knew how to build a dike? Jack: (shakes his head) Sadly, yes. It held together long enough... I think. From there everything has become a blur. I was like The Wandering Engineer or something. Miko: That doesn't sound like a bad thing. Jack: It wasn't, not for a while, but I was like going through a meat grinder everywhere I went. People always needed something from me. I could provide it, sometimes. I could find a solution, and I liked doing that, but.... Miko: But? Jack: It was always so hard. Sometimes I didn't do enough. [Silence falls over the room. This time, Jack walks up to the window and looks out at the city cast in evening shadows.] Miko: You can't blame yourself for everything. Jack: (indignant) I don't! Miko: (skeptical) Well, that's good to hear. [She finishes off her soda and pauses to lick the last bit of liquid from the top of the can.] [Not that I'd bother to describe something so inconsequential, right?] [Right? RIGHT?] [Yeah, I thought so(hinthintwinkwinknudgenudgeknowwhatImean).] [Jack sighs, his relaxing his shoulders as if he has been briefly releaved of a great burden.] Jack: You know, your English is very good. Miko: Hmm? Oh, thank you. Jack: So, is the interview over? Miko: Mostly, yeah. I am a little curious about your job here. Jack: (laughs and rubs the back of his head nervously) Oh, yeah. That's kind of why you're here in the first place. Miko: Heh heh. I'd almost forgot.... Jack: Okay. Well, I just got hired today, and-- Miko: Hired today?! Jack: Yeah. Maxim Coltrane is the CEO of Coltrane Heavy Industries. What he says is pretty much law--it's his company. He wanted to hire me for more engineering work, mostly aerospace work; launching satellites and the like. Miko: I thought that was all automated. Jack: Err... not building satellites. Sure, some of it is automated, but a lot of assembly is done by hand, even today. Then there's rocket design and electronics, guidance... Miko: (thinking) Why would Coltrane Heavy Industries be building satellites. Isn't that something a news or telecommunications company would be more interested in? Jack: (continuing) Come to think of it, I'm not sure how qualified I am for this. But, engineering is engineering. If I'm paid to do calcs on girders, I'll do calcs on girders. If I'm paid to do calcs on rocket engines, I'll do calcs on rocket engines until I get sick of it, then quit. [He chuckles.] Miko: (thinking) Okay, mental note. Jack Carlson is kind of flighty. This is IT?! This is what I'm over here listening to boring engineer-speak for? Gah. James said this would be boring, but.... (thoughtful look) Hmm.... (changes to lecherous grin) HMMM.... ---------- Title card: SIDESTEP:EVANGELION Episode 6: See What Condition My Condition Was In/ Just One Kidney... ---------- [EXT. ARMY AIR BASE - EVENING.] [JSDF Air Base 7, made of scattered concrete and asphalt runways that looked not unlike a smashed spider from the air. It is lighted with hundreds of xenon lamps, and the sky about it glows a particularly pale shade of white, as if said lamps are powered by the spirits of those who died from terminal illnesses.] [A Japanese "C-199" type transport sits on the 2-East runway like a fat pig with wings taped onto its back. The four massive jet engines that are mounted to its swept-back wings give off a pavement-warping rumble at idle speed. Carrie, standing near the loading ramp at the rear of the aircraft, is dressed in a set of work overalls similar to the type the ground crew is wearing. The weather is clear and calm, with one quarter of a moon in the sky.] [Of course, since pigs haven't actually grown wings (despite the above analogy), and the earth is still spinning through space, and Hell is still boiling hot (it is, just trust me), so naturally James is... late. However, a figure melts out of the shadows directly in front of Carrie, in much the same manner as James has been known to.] Carrie: (yelling over the sound of the plane's engines) Who the fuck are you? [A young, black-haired girl of about sixteen years of age is standing in front of Carrie, adjusting the waist-band of her pants. Rather than answer the question, she offers the Branch-X agent her ID card.] Carrie: (reading) Arcana. That's it? Just what are you doing here anyway? Arcana: (Classic James Mode) It's not my fault! The fucking sprinklers were on! Carrie: (shocked) JAMES?!! Arcana: (looks up to reveal her face) You did get my note about the curse, right? [Cut to NERV's parking lot, second story, A section, space number 23. Carrie's BMW M3 is parked there complete with proper permits. Pan to D section, space number 7. Another M3 is parked here, with a note stuck in the window. As a reminder, this is NOT Carrie's car.] Carrie: What note?! Arcana: Look, I turn into this space alien warrior chick when I get splashed with cold water. Just get me some hot tea or coffee and I'll be fine. The pilots should have some, they always have coffee. Carrie: How? Who? What? Err... I-- Arcana: Magic. Me. Some stupid spring in China. There was an army of assassins, don't ask. [Carrie just stares. Arcana seriously doesn't look more than sixteen years of age, and despite her mannerisms being totally and completely "James," this black-haired 16 year old girl looks nothing like the blonde-haired, 35 year old MALE assassin Carrie is used to.] Arcana: I have the proper ID, don't I? Carrie: (stares harder) This is... fucking weird. (looks at Arcana's ID again) And you do have the right ID. [Carrie finally shrugs, her training kicking in.] Carrie: Okay, get on the plane or we'll be late. [Once inside with the cargo doors closed, things are much quieter. James takes a quick trip to the cockpit and changes (then adjust his clothes... again), then grabs the seat next to Carrie and straps himself in.] James: That's better. Say, it isn't the rainy season in China, is it? Carrie: ................... As a matter of fact, it is. James: Fuck that. I'll handle the paperwork. Carrie: ................... Sure. James: Sorry about before, I knew I was holding you guys up. Carrie: ................... That's all right. James: You know, no reason to talk to me in time-delay mode. [Carrie shakes her head.] Carrie: Sorry, it's just.... James: Weird? Try looking from the inside out. Carrie: You actually... actually... YOU HAD A TAIL! James: ... And you were peeking. So, I didn't read the packet yet. Where exactly is this base supposed to go? Carrie: Read the packet, James. It's in the south. James: The mud-pit base.... Carrie: And you had a damn tail... why did you have a tail? James: I told you, extra-terrestrial. She's an alien. Carrie: How do you know? James: Local legend... well, after getting cursed I was real apt to listen to that. It turns out they weren't joking. A DNA analysis confirmed that whatever she is, she ain't human. Her physical abilities are off the charts, though, and she's a born fighter. Carrie: How do you know that? James: I'm a fighter. We know our own. And fighters usually aren't _born_ Carrie. Carrie: I know James, I know. James: (leans back and adjust himself to get comfortable) What are we, the fucking Asian distributors now? Carrie: What? James: (sleepy) Nothing. Wake me up when we get there. [The camera pulls back, out of the airplane--which is taking off--and across the airfield. It centers on the plane until only the running lights can be seen in the mid-night darkness, then the entire scene fades to black.] [Cue Metallica's "Better Than You" faintly in the background as the narrator's deep, booming voice speaks over the scenes.] NARRATOR: NEXT TIME, ON SIDESTEP:EVANGELION! [A circle-pan of John and crew of Special Forces type guys are at the peak of a snow-covered mountain. The air is clear with a slight wind from the side.] NARRATOR: TIBET. [John and the company of Special Forces behind him, enter a huge cave. The ground under their feet goes from stubby grass over rough soil to metal decking the deeper it gets into the cave.] NARRATOR: THE OFFICE. [Dave reveals his office with a flourish, kind of like a showcase model. There is a flash of light as he does his flourish, so we don't actually get to see the office.] NARRATOR: MYSTERIES REVEALED. [A random passerby is talking to James.] R.P.: You're from that NERV place, right? James: No, I'm from the Special Forces Division 2. NARRATOR: AND... OTHER EXCITING STUFF HAPPENS! [A shot of a worn looking military base, from the inside. It reeks of Cold War engineering. A group of rag-tag soldiers are pointing thirty-year-old guns at John and his Special Forces group.] NARRATOR: ALL IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF SIDESTEP:EVANGELION! [Ending credits:] Ranting, Sidestep, lots of other stuff: Jared Waddell, HQ Consulting: Insanity Productions Staff Remarks: John Genoni, Pullman Branch Andy Mucha, Kennewick Bunker Miko Mido, the Shikima, and Those With Tentacles are from 'La Blue Girl.' Tokyo-3 and all things and characters present regarding Eva are from Neon Genesis: Evangelion. No copyright infringement is intended. This work is copyrighted but non-profit. Perhaps in the vein of a bizarre parody, but I'm guessing not. All other characters, unless noted, are copyright Insanity Productions. Original characters created by Insanity Productions may be used in freely in other non-profit works, without the author's prior assent (you can get it, but you don't have to). Special effects provided by Insanity Productions Technical Department. And thank you, the reader, for reading.