Doctor Who: The Evangelion Error (Book Two)

Deleted Scene: Then the jagged edge appears

Commander's Office. Central Dogma. NERV Headquarters.

Several days prior.

Misato walked into the vast office and strode across the marble floor, her heels clicking with every step. God, the size of this place, she thought, as she invariably did whenever she came here. Rank had its privileges, sure, but taking up an entire floor for one's own personal office seemed beyond ridiculous. She shoved the thought to the back of her head; she had bigger fish to fry today. She halted in front of the commander's desk and gave him a stiff salute.

Commander Ikari sat with his back to her, gazing into the sunset's harsh red light through the glass wall. For a moment, Misato wondered if he had even heard her come in. Then he asked, "Yes, Captain?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir."

"Mmh. Granted, I suppose."

Now came the hard part, she thought. She had to be careful here. One wrong move, and... well. She licked her lips. "With all due respect, sir, I would like an explanation. As Director of Tactical Operations, I am required to have a full understanding of the battlefield environment in order to formulate effective defense plans. Why was I not informed about Lilith earlier?"

"You were told that Terminal Dogma was to be defended at all costs, were you not?"

"That isn't good enough, sir," she snapped before she could stop herself. Come on, keep it together, she thought to herself. It's not just the job that's at stake here. Think about the kids. "That is -- a clear understanding of the enemy's objectives could have made a huge difference in our choice of strategies in the past. Not to mention the frankly massive risk we take by having this creature at our backs. What if it goes out of control?"

"Lilith is not an active threat to us, Captain. I state that with complete confidence."

She narrowed her eyes. "With all due respect, sir, how can you be so sure?"

"You don't need to know the details. Suffice it to say that... arrangements have been made."

Oh, yeah, she thought bitterly. Because that sort of thing worked out so well for us back during Second Impact, didn't it? "Even if that's true, sir, I'm still puzzled as to why this information has been kept secret from the world, much less our own people. It seems to me it would be more to our advantage if the public at large knew about Lilith. As it is, we have to struggle for funding against domestic priorities. If everyone knew for certain just what was at stake here, wouldn't they give NERV their full support?"

The commander sighed. "Would they really, Captain?"

"Sir?"

He turned to face her. "If the existence of Lilith became generally known among the public, then so inevitably would the decades of scientific research on her. Which would in turn lead to the revelation that many individuals knew about the Angels long before the attacks began in earnest. Such as your father, for example." Misato shifted her jaw.

Commander Ikari stared her in the eye, his glasses shining in the dying sunlight. "Do you truly believe that, in light of this new information, the masses would unite together in common cause? Or would we instead set about tearing ourselves apart to apportion blame at the worst possible moment, much as we did following Second Impact?"

She looked away.

"It was the judgement of our superiors -- both yours and mine -- that we cannot afford to risk instability at this time. Not if humanity is to survive." The commander rose from his chair and tugged down on his shirt. "I'm afraid that I have another appointment shortly. Will that be all for now, Captain?"

"Yes, sir," she said, knowing that she had little choice in the matter.

"Dismissed, then."

She saluted once more and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Captain?"

She paused.

"Knowledge is nothing without the proper context," the commander said. "It can even be dangerous when possessed by an unprepared mind. You would do well to remember that."

"Yes, sir." She marched away, her heels stabbing down against the marble floor. So, she thought. I guess that makes me dangerous, then, doesn't it.