(AN: First off, I'd like to say that even though I know many things about WW2 I by no means know everything. If you come across any odd fact about that era that you think might have some relevance to this story go ahead and send me a message if you want. Secondly, things will get weird near the middle to end (and by weird I mean things like time travel, alternate universes, aliens, psychics, and the like) do not worry, I am not insane. Thirdly, I do not own anything that already has been copyrighted, any person or company who owns something in my story and does not want it there can message me with their complaint and I will remove the irritant. Fourthly, enjoy. Fifthly, I am editing the second part of The Artist whenever the lightning bolt of inspiration hits me again.)
A WW2/Evangelion story
(June 3, 1942: Manzanar War Relocation Center/ California)
Dust devils spun in wild cycles as a philistine sun unmercifully baked the hardpack desert. A peevish wind blew stinging, biting dust at everything, rendering the air with a hazy aura that would trick the eye with brown illusions. The only settlement in the area were buildings made of loose wood and black tarpaper that offered little relief from the wind, heat, and the cold that would come in the winter. The dwellers of the barracks had tried to make the area as beautiful as they could with gardens, but the plants had just shriveled in the heat- bemoaning in the way that only vegetation could that it wanted to die.
Barbed wire connecting eight watch towers surrounded the camp, a cruel joke since there was no other habitation around for many man-killing miles around. The world had moved on with Second Impact- a worldwide depression and now another world war had just made the planet move faster towards some sort of doom. But no one cared really… Day by day people went on with their lives as they always had. Let GEHIRN and the Human Salvation Committee in Hakone and Barcelona worry about the alien threats- that's the reason why they were not part of any country in the global war- everyone had to worry about the nations on the other side. Hirohito, Hitler, and Mussolini weren't going anywhere, were they?
Near the horizon, a larger, straight line of dust approached the compound; like an arrow headed for the bull's-eye, or a beam being shot to its target. A jeep drove its way down the lane in the waste, two American GIs in the front and an Institute member with his red and white uniform in the back seat rode in the vehicle all the way to the gate of the complex. The Marduk Institute member was Japanese-born and so was marked with suspicion, but he carried the right papers in his briefcase, and the Institute, GEHRIN, or the HSC were not part of any country so the GI's had to do whatever the Gook-man said to do. Not that he had asked for much, just a ride to Manzanar and a Coke; but it still felt wrong to the soldiers to be helping a person that probably knew a few pilots who had bombed Pearl Harbor.
The gate was opened by two Marines and the jeep slowly went through the widening opening. The man from Marduk looked to his right and saw a caricature of half a man's head and fingers peering over a line.
The caption underneath read, Killroy was here.
"You Americans have that... problem too?" the Institute man asked as he gestured to the picture.
"Yep," the driver said without turning around, "it appeared right after a night-light show that happened here a few days ago."
The other Army man paused and shifted his weight in a way that said he was touchy about the subject, "You know," he dragged out, "the Foo Fighters."
The jeep drove through a parade ground that had a flagpole in the very center of it. They passed lethargic-looking Japanese internees that looked at them with brief interest (the Institute's man visage hardened when he saw them) on their way to the office, their destination. It was a squat, wooden building that was quite ugly… It matched the landscape perfectly.
Inside was a thin, wire of a Texan that was the compound's commander; he stood from his paperwork when the men entered; he didn't salute but instead nodded in their direction. "What," he said, looking at the Institute man with obvious distrust, "do we owe for a visit from one of the fighters of 'the other war'?"
"Hello," the Marduk man said in broken English as he opened up his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope, "My name is Kisuke Yamamanto. The reason I… visited is because of these… papers." Kisuke gave the envelope to the CO who opened it and scanned through the pages.
He eyed the papers and then Kisuke with surprise, "You already have the White House's and the Western Brigade CO's approval to remove the child?"
"Yes, GEHRIN's and the… Committee's as well, now could you bring him here? I want to be rid of you… as much as you want to be rid of me."
The commander of the compound nodded and yelled into another room, "Becky? Could you get on the horn and get Shinji Ikari in here please?"
A voice that was most likely "Becky's" asked for Shinji Ikari to please come to the main office over loudspeakers attached to the corners of the building. A demure, brown-haired boy that had been interned for his heritage entered through the front door just a few seconds later. The boy looked around the room and his eyes fell on Kisuke in a brief flash of surprise.
"…Yessir?" Shinji asked of the CO, unsure of what was going on.
"Pack your bag Ikari, this here man is going to take you to…" he looked at the documents again, "…Japan. Congratulations, you're a pilot."
Shinji started in surprise. "Really sir?" he asked, not fully believing the news.
"Yes really, now get out of here," the CO brusquely commanded, "I have a lot of other work to do."
Five minutes later, the jeep drove out into the desert again with its new passenger. Kisuke turned to Shinji and started to spout off into a tangent in Japanese.
"I'm sorry sir," responded Shinji, he looked at the GI's to see if they were paying attention. They were by ear, "I don't speak Jap."
"You… do not?" Kisuke gasped, "You will have to… learn. All the… children… will have to learn Japanese."
The he laughed like there was some great joke that had been said, "Hitler was… quite… angry… when he found out."
The driver snickered a bit; he was obviously trying to hold it back, but he was failing miserably at it.
Shinji ignored the driver and asked, "Does that mean that you've found the other children?"
Kisuke nodded, "Hai… I mean, yes. Each… country will send a… naval fleet… to Hakone to… escort their pilot there. You will meet one on the American fleet… and the rest at the… ceremony in the city. Now… enjoy the… desert nature, this is your… last time to see… such beautiful… country."
Shinji could have said that he was sick of such 'beautiful country', after about five weeks of being stuck in the 'beautiful country' he had been just about to go crazy and brain himself with some rock. But he also realized that Kisuke was probably uncomfortable speaking in English, or had been close to letting something secret slip. Even though GEHRIN, the HSC, and the Marduk Institute were common knowledge, even what they generally did was somewhat known, they did keep a lot of secrets in fear of being a contributing factor in the war. Kisuke probably did not want to give the two GI's in the front seat anymore information then they had already received.
(Transcript from ABC Radio News)
The unofficial fifth, sixth, and seventh Children of GEHRIN have been discovered this week. Their official numbers and the official numbers of the other four children have yet to be announced. The total list is as of right now by order of discovery is:
Rei Ayanami, from Imperial Japan.
Harold Roy Glick, from the United Kingdom.
Asuka Langley Soryu, from Nazi Germany.
Kurt Tomas Norris, from Denver Colorado.
Enrico Bosconi, from Italy.
Shinji Ikari, from Los Angeles California.
And Daneeka Rostov, from Russia.
These children will be the first, last, and only defense against the angels… a threat to humanity that has not shown its face in the past fifteen years. May they be our saviors in this dark chapter of mankind.