Otaku Reflected 

Episode Three, Eva Revolution 

Part Sixteen 

Dual Slayers! Return! The Superspy is Back! 

by Jared Ornstead
  
=====

    Warning: Trying to read this fic while doing a handstand, laughing 
hysterically, and singing the macarena backwards in german at the same 
time may cause people to think that you are insane. 

    Mitsuki led him to the cafeteria, her wearing a school uniform he'd 
never seen before (the only folks in a Slayers world with uniforms are 
guardsmen) and he in totally nondescript polo shirt and slacks that was 
a little too nice to be casual and lacking adornment to such a degree 
that he might've been just about anything. 
    Only a lab coat would have been more unremarkable here on base. He 
resolved to get one, with some 'special features' added to it. 
    Hating himself for it, he took normal portions of the food that was 
available, snarfed it as discretely as possible, changed the color of 
his clothes, got back in line, snarfed seconds, thirds, and was about 
to start in on sixteenths (causing the food prep crew to wonder at the 
new flood of people in polo shirt and slacks), when Mitsuki glanced at 
her watch and took him by the arm away from the food prep area in a 
rush. 
    "C'mon, we've got to go see my father. I didn't realize how late it 
was getting. How did you do that with your clothes, anyway? And why?" 
    Realizing that he could not eat and talk at the same time (having 
learned this from Lina's experiments back in her bolder days), Jared 
took his latest plate of rice and things along with as she led him 
further into the base compound. Most of the facility was under the 
ground, so they were in tunnels the whole way. 
    "Well," he answered. "You know how we use a modified cold spell to 
make an easy cooling system in our cloaks over hot summers?" 
    "I never got that far," she confided. "I was beginning spells only. 
You sound like an experienced sorcerer." Her confusion can all be 
attributed to the fact she's still trying to meld the image of "slowest 
student in the class" with "Gifted prodigy well beyond basic mortal 
understanding"... all understandable. Such things can throw a person 
off. 
    "You might say that." He tried hard not to grin. 
    "Then there was that fight when we first got you to the base. How 
did you do half of that?" Her gaze was that of a close friend, yet 
concerned. "I've been wracking my brain, but what little I know doesn't 
put name to all the spells you used. I think most of our *teachers* 
weren't that skilled! How did you learn it?" 
    That dragged out of his not-quite-so-dry emotional state a short 
laugh. "Hold on! You are piling too many questions on top of each other 
for me to answer!" 
    She realized this was so and made an amused noise. "Okay, you 
caught me. Start with the first, okay?" 
    He gladly agreed. "Okay, the clothes. I made a spell to change 
things' color. It's not complicated, and it's not really useful in 
battle or anything. But for subtle things it excels, like a quick 
change of hair, eye or skin color for girls that aren't satisfied with 
their appearance. Another use is to make a whole wardrobe out of a 
single suit of clothes, like you saw." 
    "Wow," she blinked, eyes wide. "So that's one of those side 
projects you talked about, right?" 
    She was willing to be satisfied with that, but he was in Honesty 
Mode and couldn't let it go. "No, I made that spell a little over eight 
years ago." He confessed. 
    Mitsuki stopped in her tracks, looking at him, stunned. She shook 
her head, denying it. "But that can't be right!" She did the math on 
her fingers. "That would've made you seven years old!" 
    "Eight." He corrected. "It wasn't anything, really. Though it *did* 
keep food on our table when we sold it to a few tanneries and 
wool-dyers. The magic user community really hasn't caught on the spell 
exists yet. Which is fine, they wouldn't pay for it when we asked and 
to explain why it was useful would make it much more useless. People 
wouldn't pay anymore for expensive dyes." 
    She angled her head, absorbing this from him seriously. "You've 
really thought this through, haven't you?" It was not a question, just 
a summation. "Why haven't you gone into business making spells if you 
were so good at it?" 
    He gave her a short laugh again. "You're giving me a new question 
for every one I answer!" 
    "So humor me." Her glance was friendly and kind. 
    "I did. My whole family did, to an extent. There's been some 
spectacular successes for us in that line. We even did contract work 
for Rezo, the Red Priest. He had a spell he needed us to create that he 
hadn't been able to find any other way." 
    Again that stopped her in her tracks. There were certain names in 
the Slayers world that did not go unremarked upon, nor were they 
bandied about lightly. 
    "And were you able to?" She inhaled breath sharply. "Did it work?" 
    "Yes, and yes. He's been a close family friend ever since." 
    If he had slapped her face and filled her uniform with salmon 
custard she could hardly have seemed more surprised. In barely 
restrained awe, she breathed. "What did the spell you made *do*? I 
can't imagine anything a man like that would need." 
    He eyed her strangely. "Even the strongest have weaknesses, things 
they cannot do for themselves. We are humans, every one of us fallible 
and flawed. It's just that some of us render support more often than we 
require it. We are, none of us, immune to needing others. There's just 
some that have overcome a majority of weaknesses and the rest of us 
imagine they have none remaining. But perfection is an elusive thing, 
hard to obtain." 
    Mitsuki had no swift reply, having stopped in her amazement. 
    Jared couldn't resist. "In other words... it's a secret." 
    The girl leaned close to whisper. "Have you met the White Priest 
also? They say he and Rezo are friends." 
    It was an awed whisper. 
    No wonder, the town of Claire had exploded from a backwater hamlet 
into a small city based solely on the news that he lived there. Though 
rarely seen, he was assumed to grant great blessings to the village 
just by hanging around the place. Some of the rumors were true. But 
even if they weren't, the chance that her family hadn't moved there 
based on some factor of his presence was remote to say the least. 
    A bit of devoted interest was to be expected. 
    Jared kindly deflected it for now. "I'm sure the Sixth Sage has 
greater business on his mind than a schoolboy's petty problems." 
    Which was true, after a fashion. But that just meant he had to deal 
with those *too*, rather than being left with only the one set of 
difficulties. Being worried about homework and saving the world in the 
same breath was a draining thing. 
    "You didn't say you hadn't met him." Mitsuki concluded with a gasp. 
    "That's right. I didn't." The redhaired youth agreed with a rare 
smile. 
    "So did you meet him?" The maiden pressed, unwilling to let him 
quibble, wanting to be certain about her information on this vital 
issue. 
    "I... know him better than most others." Jared allowed, then seeing 
that still would not suffice he followed up with. "He takes a special 
interest in my family. I've made spells that he alone uses." The last 
thought was added only as it was plain the second dodge was not able to 
divert her interest in having certainty. 
    The two set off again, heavy thoughts making for silence and 
silence making haste, the girl forming a totally different opinion 
about the boy at her side. 

    "So why did you become a pilot?" The spy asked, when it was clear 
their previous discussion was over. 
    "So I can return to my own world. My dad will never finish his 
device until we can get this war over with." Mitsuki had decided to 
give him an informal tour of certain parts of the base as they talked, 
traveling to where her father was. A sealed security door came open 
before them and they took a shortcut through the main artifact chamber. 
    Giant robot technology hadn't been natural to this world. They'd 
found ancient mecha buried below the city of Claire and based their 
defense science on that, even though their actual technology base was 
classic 20th Century. 
    Jared noted the ancient remains with interest. On a hunch he'd say 
the ruin looked like some sphere shaped survival pod or time capsule 
now broken open and trailing catwalks and rails from where scientists 
had gone over it's peculiar contents. He made a mental note to stop by 
sometime and see what they'd missed, or if his magic could reveal 
something their science had not. "And how are you handling the job?" 
    "It's actually more relaxing than I expected." Mitsuki answered, 
leading him through another doorway to the giant, horizontal launch 
tube where their aircraft outfitted for robot hauling would catapult 
forward. For some strange reason it reminded him of the Viper bay on 
the Battlestar Galactica... 
    Better memorize it, he might be going there next. How would he look 
as a Colonial Warrior? He queued up that universe's cultural program 
for a quick look. Better remember to keep a close eye on Starbuck and 
Apollo, if he did. Though preventing the entire death of the human race 
was... 
    ...becoming rather typical, if he was honest. 
    Mitsuki led him through another door, from the... for lack of a 
better term, air strip, to the actual vehicle hangar. 
    No sooner were they through the doors when his friend Mitsuki went 
from a serious and somewhat stable high school girl to a charming and 
delightful picture of little girl beauty, running to her daddy and 
twirling around him several times. Jared's already high opinion of her 
shot up several notches at this unashamed girl glad to see her daddy. 
"Hello daddy! I'm back!" The twirling and joyful giggles stopped as she 
came to rest holding her father's arm, pointing the scientist to where 
he could easily see the superspy. "See? I told you I would bring him 
right on time. Just like I told you, daddy." 
    The scientist smiled at his radiant daughter. "Excellent Mitsuki, 
my dear. Thank you." His gaze became a regretful one at stilling her 
bright laughter. "But didn't we agree that you were going to call me 
Commander when we were on base?" 
    Her shining face went from joyful to penitent. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I 
forgot." 
    Jared had taken a bite of his food, not eager to intrude, when a 
new presence caught his attention and caused him to suspend for the 
moment his plans to devour the rest. 
    Blue pilots' one-piece, the clear faceplate withdrawn back into the 
chin collar that was now dangling loose around her neck. Since the 
whole suit was one garment with total body coverage he supposed that 
was the best analog to 'taking off the helmet.' She was slightly 
younger than Mitsuki and he, with some of the whitest skin, and 
probably the brightest light yellow-green hair he'd ever seen. 
    She also had all the mannerisms of a zombie, save only that she 
didn't hold her arms straight out in front, wrists dangling. 
    Fairly attractive hairstyle though, intricate even. He wondered 
where she found the motivation to do it and keep it nice. Hmmm, if 
hygiene was a consideration this wasn't any typical zombie. For some 
reason she reminded him of someone... 
    But who? 
    The green haired zombie turned her side to him so she could salute 
the Commander straight on. Commander Sanada gave her light praise, 
seeming to think everything about her as normal, even when she didn't 
respond and turned straight toward the doors behind Jared. 
    Then he had it. 
    "You are a clone." 
    "Huh?" Both Sanadas inhaled sharply, surprised by his catching on 
so fast. 
    Jared shrugged. "Job description. I deal with the strange and 
unusual better than the normal. So hey, who are you?" 
    The pale skinned clone with yellow-green hair turned to him slowly, 
revealing an eye with a light purple iris and one artificial lens 
mounted in place of the other. A light burned in the depths of the 
eye-lens. 
    "My name is... D." 
    By now both Sanadas were further slack-jawed. "My God. She's 
greeting him." Mitsuki dared to breathe. 
    "uh huh," Jared answered, speaking to the clone. "Well D, my name 
is Jared. I am also Skysaber, interdimensional Superspy Adventurer, and 
I'd like to welcome you into the world of the living." With that he 
reached out a hand, glowing white, to touch the side of her face. This 
was one of his experimental spells, built on the premise of going deep 
into a clone's mind for the purpose of sharing basic knowledge of human 
behavior. He'd thought to create the spell as a shortcut to what he'd 
done with Rei, if ever he ran into one of her duplicates in another 
world. 
    It didn't work quite as he'd intended. 
    Jared found himself craning his neck to look up the extra few 
inches to see... his own face. 
    The pale-skinned clone turned toward the Sanadas and gestured very 
eloquently to evince her present displeasure. She shook her head, light 
green hair flaying. "Well, that didn't turn out very well at all, did 
it?" 
    Eyes flashed back and forth between the green haired girl, speaking 
and moving with all the animation presently notable only for its lack 
from her before, and the superspy, who had somehow gone quite still and 
acquired a blank posture. 
    D's body blew a lungful of air up from the corner of her mouth to 
stir the hair above her brow. She did a few quick, limbering stretches 
and sniffed carefully at one of her own armpits, turning a judgmental 
glare at the Superspy's still form. 
    "You don't take very good care of your body, you know." 
    "I'm... sorry." The voice coming from the boy's throat was dull and 
almost toneless. 
    The little clone girl went up and poked the much larger male form 
in the chest with her finger. "Let's get something straight. So long as 
you're in *MY* body, you're going to take care of it up to *my* 
standards. Are we clear on that?" 
    "Yes." echoed the dull tones from the superspy's throat. 
    "Good, c'mon." The clone body took hold of the redhead's hand and 
led him back to the elevator doors. 
    "W... w... w... h... he.. he.. I.. I..." Ken Sanada suddenly shook 
his head and stopped sputtering, shouting to the pair. "WHAT IS GOING 
ON HERE??!" 
    D's diminutive body turned to face him, a smile playing on her 
lips, not daring to let go her grip on the suddenly silent superspy 
they knew as Jared. "Hm?" Her lips played with repressed amusement. 
"Oh, that. Just a little accident." 
    "A LITTLE!!?" Both Sanadas were just a little too hyped up at the 
strangeness to believe that. 
    D's body hmphed, putting a dainty hand on a curvy hip, still not 
releasing the spy. "Yes, just a little one." She laughed merrily, 
letting go of worries, then informing them. "You have to be careful, 
working with new magic spells, because they almost never work right the 
first time you try them. I have that problem less often than most, but 
there was almost no information in the Claire Bible on the specifics of 
this, as there weren't any technological clones in our last world to 
have information *on.* There's quite a difference between clones 
magically made and grown via technology. I made an error in assumption 
and now I have to pay for it." 
    "W... what happened?" Mitsuki whispered, still in shock. 
    D's body shrugged casually, turning into a sidelong grin. "Nothing 
serious. I just used an incorrect approach, that's all. I thought that 
by diving into her mind I could infuse her with some of my own skills 
and perceptions, thus aiding her understanding of and participation in 
the world around us." She giggled slightly, then sighed. "Ah me, how 
foolish. I completely forgot that she could be only piloting this body 
by remote control. Her real body is hidden elsewhere, right? Presumably 
due to circumstances beyond your control?" The female body directed a 
piercing and purple gaze to the scientist, laden with curiosity. 
    Ken Sanada was flinching, raising an arm to hide behind as he'd 
*long* ago passed his weirdness tolerances concerning this person. "Y.. 
yes," he stammered, unable to think other than to give her the right 
reply. "We were unable to restore her damaged tissues, so we made her 
this clone body so she could interact and learn more about us." 
    The little girl's body gave a satisfied nod, along with an agreeing 
noise, before flashing the two of them with a radiant smile. "Don't 
worry. What's done can be undone. It's fairly simple and I would do it 
now except she's built up nil in the way of magic reserves. I'll have 
to work on that a little while, then we'll go back to normal." 
    "How can you be so sure?" Mitsuki asked, uncertain how this person 
could be so certain. 
    The superspy presently occupying D's body gave another delighted 
giggle. "Ah, to be so innocent again. Never mind, it's a fairly simple 
problem. My probe/ imprint spell was designed to have a reasonable 
amount of force behind it, considering all the normal barriers you can 
expect to be guarding even a clone's mind. But D wasn't actually *in* 
here, only visiting. The result of crashing in here with all that force 
left me overextended, the victim of my own spell's strength. I overrode 
her control of *this* body, taking up residence as I'd kinda got stuck 
the way a ball will if you throw it too against a clay wall, and she 
somehow at the same time got her control switched to my body, probably 
pulled in by the jetstream of my passage, if that makes any sense." 
    The green haired little girl giggled again. "Hehe, she's also left 
the brain in here an untidy mess, simply refusing to process emotional 
signals like she couldn't even hear them. It's part of what's thrown 
her magic so out of whack. Even a normal person usually has mana enough 
in their reserves that I could cast the spell again to get us back to 
our own bodies." 
    Suddenly, D's body teared up, trembling with sad emotion. "I'm 
going to be loopy for a while, sorting that out!" She bawled. 
    Ken Sanada was suddenly calm, stating. "Well, he seems to be 
handling it very professionally." 
    Mitsuki was speechless. 
    Wiping her eye, flowing with tears, the body controlling D's body 
took his *own* body by the arm, guiding the girl in control of it back 
to the lift. "C'mon, you stink... I stink that is. Piloting must make 
you sweat. Take me to the showers and show me how to do your hair 
afterwards. You ought to shave my body's underarms while we're at it, 
they're due." 
    "HEY!" Mitsuki somehow found her voice, face flushing red as she 
shouted. "You aren't seriously thinking what I *think* you're thinking, 
are you?" 
    D's petite head was cocked toward her, indicating curiosity. "Well 
I can't possibly imagine why not. *I* don't know how to do this 
hairstyle, and she's no idea how to care for that body I've lived in 
for so long." 
    "But..." Mitsuki's blush forced her to stop. 
    The little green-haired girl poked a finger up at the redhaired 
boy's unresponsive face. "She is NOT going to see anything she hasn't 
already if this body undresses in front of her! Neither can she really 
be kept from learning the secrets of the one she's in, now can she? The 
first time she has to go to the bathroom will fix that up. Besides, 
there are things she ought to know if I'm to get that body back in one 
piece. It happens to be allergic to the aluminum salts in almost all 
deodorants, so the only way to really keep it from smelling is to shave 
the underarms and apply zinc-oxide, which is *not* something she'd just 
guess, and I'd get it back only to be unable to use my arms the rash 
would be so bad!" 
    Sanada's daughter was beet-red, hands over the lower part of her 
face. 
    Neither Sanada said a word as clone-in-boy's-body led 
superspy-in-girl's-body through the doors on the way to the base 
dormitory showers. After several seconds of utmost silence, Ken Sanada 
said almost to himself. 
    "Well, if that wasn't the most adaptable kid I've ever seen." He 
began eating the lunch D, in Skysaber's body, had set down. 

    The body of Jared, aka Victor Inverse, came strolling in to the 
Commander's office with all the poise and mannerisms that made plain 
the original occupant was back in control. 
    "Well, that didn't take long." The commander stated, looking up 
with a smile from where he'd been discussing aspects of this whole 
situation with his daughter. 
    "The cafeteria people thought it odd that D of all people would eat 
like that, but that's the simplest way to build spell reserves. So tell 
me the rules of this whole business." Jared told the Sanadas, the 
interdimensional agent now in base uniform of a Core Robot pilot and 
sitting on the edge of their polished desk. 
    "Jared, are you sure you're up to this?" Mitsuki pled, worried for 
him. 
    "Never better." He gave a nod, then a smirk. "My own body again, 
and if you're referring to that apparent seizure earlier, that was an 
emotional experience, not a medical one. You don't need to fear it 
reoccurring. Now, doctor Sanada?" 
    The scientist coughed into his hand, his mind churning through 
plans involving these two little ones and pleased to see them already 
coming along nicely. "Well, since you ask, it boils down to this: When 
Rara sends an attack preview we show up to fight. If we win they are 
sent back to where they came from, and if *they* win, they get the 
disputed territory." 
    "Uh huh." Jared nodded to show he understood. "So how do you gain 
territory?" 
    Both Doctor Sanada and his daughter looked blank. 
    After a painful silence, the father said. "We don't. It's not our 
purpose. We're here to defend against Rara, not conquer the world on 
our own. We just defend the rights of nations to retain their 
independent governments." 
    "So how do you gain territory back *from* the Rara army?" Jared 
pressed. 
    Father and daughter looked at each other helplessly. She screwed up 
her face as if to say she'd like to know too, and her father laughed 
helplessly, putting a hand behind his head. "We don't." He drooped his 
head in shame. 
    The redhead frowned. "Then what you are doing is a holding action. 
You can't win, you can only lose. You devote all your efforts to losing 
as slowly as possible, but the end is certain from the beginning. That 
tactic is only valid if you have something you hope will come along and 
save you, and no other choice." 
    "Well, yeah..." Doctor Sanada groaned, unhappy with it but unable 
to deny. 
    Jared rolled his eyes and sighed, regaining his humor and waving 
his hands. "Don't. You don't even need to tell me of the treaties or 
whatever that brought you in to this. I have *no* doubt they're 
unbreakable. I actually envy Rara. The moment those documents were 
signed, they'd won. All they had to do was go through the motions until 
someone got tired of the game." 
    Ken Sanada looked ashamed, and his daughter angry. 
    "Don't worry!" Jared chirped up, jumping from his seat to perch on 
both feet. "I have come to save you!" 
    "What?!" A depressed Doctor Sanada asked. Mitsuki looked curious, 
momentarily forgetting her beef with her father painting them into a 
corner like this. Her father waved Jared's help away. "Don't bother, 
you're right. Another pilot just isn't going to get us out of the pit 
my agreements with Rara dug us into." 
    "I'm *not* another pilot!" Jared chirped, his eyes gleaming. "I'm 
not even just another extremely *awesome* pilot who can mash his 
enemies to tiny bits, in my mercy. No, what I am is your way out of the 
hole your agreements dug you into." 
    He leaned close to Doctor Sanada, trying hard not to relish getting 
in *his* face for once. "Because you see, while *your* organization has 
treaties it can't break with Rara, I and *mine* do not! In fact my 
force didn't even exist until now, so it couldn't. *I* am starting over 
with a blank slate. No treaties with anybody." 
    Doctor Sanada sat up, putting his hands on his knees. "Yeah, but 
you don't have any equipment, either." He felt the need to point out an 
obvious hole here. 
    Jared laughed, spinning in a circle, coming back to face the 
doctor. "Not yet! But no treaty you've signed tells you how to control 
your own force! Sell it to me. Or rather, break it up into chunks like 
Core Robots, maintenance sheds, the base, miscellany, services of key 
personnel, and whatnot. Then sell all the bits to me and I have an army 
with no ties binding my dealings with Rara!" 
    Doctor Sanada was rubbing his chin with regained confidence. "That 
would work! But the transfer will take time. Once you've formed this 
force then you'll have to make your own binding treaties with Rara. 
That'll take days at least." 
    Jared shook his head one time, totally negating the point. "Nope! 
Treaty by fiat is the standard in wartime. I dictate terms on them and 
threaten to escalate the conflict unless they agree. I can shove a much 
more workable system down their throats just by being a pill about it 
and *not* going the diplomatic route." 
    Mitsuki was delightedly surprised. Her smile said so. 
    Her father frowned. "But even so, you don't have supply contracts 
or funding by the United Nations. If you start this too fast they'll 
undercut you and where will you be?" 
    Jared rolled his eyes. "The UN was an entity created to achieve 
conquest of the world by political means rather than military ones. It 
is no less a usurper, invader, encroacher, and enemy of all who would 
live without chains and slavery. In fact, given how devious they are, I 
shouldn't be surprised they support you just so they can pull the rug 
out from under you later on and sell out to Rara for surrender 
concessions." 
    He directed a clear and sure gaze to Ken Sanada. "Far better to 
live without giving them a way to do that." 
    The mad scientist frowned. "But how are you going to fund 
everything?" 
    "My problem, not yours." The redhaired spy caroled. 
    Mitsuki was stuck on an earlier point. "But how can that be true? 
The UN *gave* dad the facilities and money to start this army." She 
asked in concern. 
    Jared shrugged, bothered not a bit. "If they pretend resistance to 
Rara, and are even a tiny bit effective, they can sell out in 
negotiations for far more than if they just rolled over to begin with. 
Thus they retain power, as it's the only thing they're interested in 
and thereby the only thing they'd negotiate for. But since Rara wants 
the same goal, who is on top is going to be an interesting quibble; him 
or them? More likely than not they'll try to pull something along the 
lines of a constitutional monarchy on him, with his family the royalty 
and them the parliament, then steadily over the years withdraw power 
from him until the crown is a mere figurehead. Thus leaving them with 
total control of the world *and* a scapegoat to blame things on when 
they mismanage it. They could run for centuries by simply replacing 
their king with a new one when things got too bad, and blaming the old 
one for all their own misdeeds. Similar schemes have worked before." 
    The redhead spun about to face the girl directly. "Free governments 
*always* take more effort, by more people, than despotism. If you'll 
look over history you'll find how rare and few truly free governments 
are. It only takes a few people working hard to achieve the wealth and 
tools necessary to make a tyranny. The natural result is you will find 
that tyrannies outnumber free governments in all ages of time. Now take 
a look at the UN. You *have* to question the motivations of any 
organization, made up of more tyrannies, despots, and dictators than 
not, and subject to simple majority rule." 
    Her face had blanked and turned white. 
    "Ah, so you *do* understand." Jared nodded. "The goal of tyrannies 
is to increase their power. It always will be, and they can all agree 
on that. The goal of free men is to be left alone so they can enjoy 
their freedom. Thus, unless they are ever vigilant, free men are always 
going to be the favored targets of dictators because other dictators 
plot right back and those silly free men aren't even paying attention. 
Enter the UN, which *claims* moral superiority to mere nations because 
its goals and aims are supposedly higher. But its voice is the voice of 
dictators and its aims are theirs; increasing its power. Who *gets* 
that power is a side issue that can all be decided on behind closed 
doors where they won't upset the dupes they are taking it from by 
airing those plots and schemes in the open..." 
    He stopped, looking puzzled. "How did I get on this rant?" 
    "You were explaining why you couldn't trust them." Ken Sanada 
explained, interest in this discourse plain on his face. 
    "Oh yeah, they're the enemy, plain and simple. Actually, we can 
*use* that! Let me think for a moment. Aha!" Jared snapped his fingers. 
"I've got it!" 
    He grappled Ken Sanada with Mad Scientist Velocity (tm), and spoke 
inches from his face. "YOU are the key to everything! It's simple! Rara 
has won this war already through his agreements with you. So if *I* 
enter into *new* agreements with you, those are just as binding, are 
they not?" 
    Jared was grabbed in return by a reenergized mad scientist. "That's 
right! So all we've got to do is decide what terms we want the fighting 
to be done on, write them down, spiffy them up to throw the diplomats, 
then we've got a whole *new* way to fight Rara!" 
    "Exactly." Jared spoke from his new seat on a chandelier, where 
he'd used his own Mad Scientist Speed (patent pending) to achieve a 
safe point for speaking. "For example, let us say you are losing a 
fight. What do you do now?" 
    Ken Sanada straightened his glasses, gazing confidently at the 
youth while his daughter kept gazing back and forth between them, 
amazed at the similarity. "We send a call sign, ending the battle in 
exchange for forfeiture of the contested area." 
    "Right." Jared nodded decisively, having read that in the book. 
"So, what about this: You aren't winning a battle and instead of 
surrender to Rara you engage a set of mercenary troops to bail you out 
of it. Me. My fee would be the contested area, and that gives me a 
resource base to fund myself off from rather than panhandling to the 
UN. Okay for a start?" 
    "Yes." Ken Sanada was grinning viciously. "But that's incomplete. 
You'll need some way of challenging Rara for *their* territory, or 
you'll be in the same fix as I am." 
    "Fair enough, but I'd already thought of that." Jared acknowledged. 
"Simple enough to address, too. How about I send my own video trailers 
announcing my own attacks upon Rara? What are they going to do? Refuse? 
If they do that the only alternative is total war." The redhead snapped 
open his Nerd Toy in laser sword configuration, causing the green beam 
of light to extend bladelike from the handle. "And there isn't a 
security system in this world that can stop me, and few enough to slow 
me down." 
    Jared took a few practice swings with his sword, then let the beam 
retract back into the pen shaped handle. He put both arms behind his 
head and gazed casually out the window. "But while it would stop Rara, 
it won't stop other people or nations from using his technology, and to 
be perfectly honest I'd not cry a single tear to see half the despots 
in the world dethroned as Rara and I fought over their territory." 
    The black-haired scientist, his black hair waving grasslike from 
the top of his head, got a wry twinkle to his eyes. "You'd have to make 
some claim to official authority. Otherwise you'd be giving them an 
opening to sick the UN on you. You'd either be mired in piles of 
bureaucratic chains or have the whole world turned against you. 
Mercenaries have a much harder time justifying the conquest and holding 
of territory." 
    Jared shrugged, safe on his chandelier. "Might makes right in 
international squabbles. I can declare myself Emperor, or something, 
and it'll stick because there has never been a bureaucrat born who 
could act decisively and by the time they react with any kind of plan I 
would have a sizable chunk of land and as much claim at legitimacy as 
any of them. It would help if you were to acknowledge my right to rule 
before folding the Earth Defense Forces, but isn't required. If no one 
can take my turf, I'm king. That's how it's always worked. That's how 
it works for Rara. Where else does he get HIS authority?" 
    Both Sanadas looked stunned. 
    Mitsuki's face melted into uncertainty. "But won't that make you 
alot like Rara? What would the difference be, if you both hold the 
territory you take?" 
    "I don't want it." 
    To their freshly stunned looks, he cleared his throat and 
reiterated. "People who want power are chiefly those who want to misuse 
it. In fact there's a general rule, the more control a person wants 
over other people the less likely he is to have any control of himself. 
I don't want power. I have no such appetites. But in this circumstance 
the only way I see to deny it to my enemies who misuse it, is to gather 
it to myself. Otherwise I'd be where your dad is, at the mercy of those 
who have power and constrained in my effectiveness. Fair enough?" 
    Mitsuki nodded brightly. It seemed a proper answer to her. 
    His eyes were twinkling. "That government governs best which 
governs least." 
    "Alright then," Ken Sanada set loose the cord holding the 
chandelier up and dumped him into grabbing range. "We'll try the idea 
out. I won't fold the Defense Force yet, because if something goes 
wrong that gives us something to fall back on without courting 
catastrophe if it doesn't work out right the first time. But we might 
as well try the idea today. What will you need to make a start? I can't 
spare much." 
    Jared now knew what a tube of toothpaste felt like, with Ken Sanada 
hugging him. "If that's the case, don't spare anything. It'll make a 
more legitimate start for me if I don't show up the first time with all 
of my equipment obviously on loan from you." 
    "What'll you use?" The scientist slackened his grip on him, 
puzzled. 
    Squeezing out of his grasp, and zipping over to hide behind the 
man's daughter, Jared replied. "Well, the *official* story is that if 
you knew how I was planning to win this you wouldn't have to pay me the 
award of my own country to get me to step in and do it, now would you? 
And when politicians ask why my way was better than a surrender to Rara 
you can say it creates a buffer state that Rara will have to fight for 
all over again." 
    "Hmm," Mr. Sanada scratched his chin. "And privately? It's no use 
to anyone if you can't pull this off. What will you need?" 
    Jared stood very calmly, and straightened from his hiding place 
behind the man's daughter. Taking a white mask from his pocket, he 
placed it on his face and his outfit swirled magically and became one 
that to Mitsuki was *instantly* recognizable! 
    Her family had moved to Claire because of it. 
    The White Priest laughed, richly and with self assurance to spare. 
"I am The White Priest, one of the Six Great Sages of All Time. If my 
spells aren't sufficient, then the robots you fight are worse than 
Ruby-Eye Shabranigdu, Demon Lord of Darkness, two of whose fragments I 
have slain." 
    Mitsuki fainted, overcome with surprise. 
    Ken Sanada just scratched his chin, unsure what this meant. 

    The next day, Jared looked out at the battle forming. It had taken 
these guys hours to move all the infantry and equipment to the scene of 
the battle-to-be, and he couldn't see the point. It was robot against 
robot and infantry just got in the way. 
    No, they didn't carry any support weapons. What were they, field 
janitors in uniform? 
    After he'd been shown round the Earth Defense Force base (belatedly 
gathered up his golems - what he was going to do with them now he 
didn't know), and went by listening in briefings and the like, he had 
to admit these people probably didn't know why they were here, either. 
It was just a war, so some hidebound general had insisted on infantry. 
    Anyway, from what he could tell, the Earth Defense Force had all 
their pilots, all their mecha were in top shape, yet overall they felt 
depressed and a little pessimistic. The book he'd read had been light 
on details, didn't want to offend anyone powerful on either side no 
doubt, but from what he'd learned inside these guys hadn't won a battle 
in *months* save for that one he'd participated in. 
    So they would most likely require his help. 
    Suddenly uncertain, he wondered. Did he really want to reveal the 
White Priest? There'd been a period of years in there where every demon 
in the Slayer's world had tried to use him indirectly to resolve their 
own power struggles. They'd led him along with bits of true data about 
what their rivals were doing and the smart few had nearly consolidated 
their power. He'd only avoided that by dropping out of public notice, 
letting the dumb victims of that scheme strike back against the smart 
ones who'd been manipulating him into it. 
    Could they find him again? 
    Make an appearance and he'd find out. 
    Could he afford not to, though? 
    There wasn't an extra robot, and try as he might he couldn't 
picture himself displacing any of the pilots they had. From what he'd 
learned there was a waiting list! So whatever the girls got out of 
piloting, they wanted it. Maybe it made them more popular dates or paid 
well or something. Didn't matter, whatever it was he wasn't going to 
deprive them of it. 
    Which left him in a pretty pickle if he wanted out of appearing in 
magical majesty. 
    How does one get a giant robot on short notice? They weren't 
available for rent, for all he knew. If Tuxedo Mask lost his costume 
and had to go to a fight he could stop by any well to do men's apparel 
store and pick up another. But not Shinji. Since it was not Tux-Boy he 
was impersonating this time where did he pick up the regulation attire? 
    A giant golem? Nah, too brittle. He'd shake it apart if he ran, 
much less took any hits (or delivered any). The principle of golems 
gave energy to stone, and any stone that big wasn't going to be high on 
the shock tolerance scale. It's own mass would kill it. Those guys were 
actually tougher when they were around man sized, so that didn't help 
his need any. 
    Martina had a giant *magical* robot on the Slayers world. But too 
little notice to make one here. Plus, that had to cost alot of magical 
materials that simply wouldn't be available for any price here. They 
didn't exist. No one made them and couldn't gather them. The species of 
magical animals liable to be the ingredient sources simply didn't live 
on this world. 
    So, what then? 
    Jared sighed. If he was getting into this, he resolved he wasn't 
going to do it the way he had before, and ran off to make a pickup 
outside the current evacuation zone. 

*** 

    "Magical Soldier, Gemstone Beams!!" 
    The security door flared and vanished like it never was, leaving a 
pale red, melting door frame that Magical Girls Cutie Emerald and her 
teammate and friend Cutie Topaz dashed through, ready to throw more 
sentai poses and vaporize whatever resistance they encountered. 
    On another screen the vault entrance to Central Dogma was forced by 
Frost Knight summoning enough condensation to freeze in tiny cracks and 
bend, twist and split the doors in between forming glaciers. The pale 
blue Knight stepped through, then a defense screen around her became 
visible as it diverted the most powerful security laser Nerv could get 
as a secret defense of their stronghold. Frost Knight's defensive 
barrier wavered not at all, and the laser generator was soon destroyed 
by an idle-seeming gesture accompanied by bits of flying ice. 
    On yet another crisis screen Blaze Knight had created a heat field 
around itself and was burning a *new* hole down into the Geofront, 
after frantic efforts had sealed the launch tubes forced by the first 
Knight incursions. Asuka Two in her Knight was following her in frank 
and open disloyalty to Nerv. 
    "Play back the scene on the surface as it happened, once again." 
Gendo ordered, as grim as anyone had ever seen him. 
    Adult Misato looked over her shoulder, up at the command seat, then 
hit the controls necessary herself. Maya and Aoba had awoken, but half 
the command crew's nerves were shot and the rest were nearly comatose 
looking on scenes they could scarcely imagine as real, involving people 
their thoughts and feelings said they knew. 
    Her own gaze went back, mesmerized by the sight of her younger 
duplicate going through a team of security professionals while her 
chest was bouncing and voice squeaking in glee - her blows crumpling 
bulkheads and bullets bouncing off her ruffled dress. Topaz, her 
teammate, was bouncing and squeaking and crumpling bulkheads as well. 
    It couldn't *actually* be her double. The hair was all wrong. That 
was just impossible. The fact that these Magical Girls had appeared at 
the same time as the two Knights piloted by her and Ritsuko's younger 
doubles had gone inactive must be some kind of trick. Those girls had 
made claims about being magical girls to throw them off somehow. But 
frazzled as Misato was she couldn't imagine what the trick was. 
    Meanwhile, on another screen showing the replay of the surface, 
unit 02 had already eaten the cubic angel and taken the S2 organs into 
itself. Rising from its position, it let out a giant, blood curdling... 
burp? 
    Then came the part Gendo was waiting for, watching the recordings. 
He saw the one intruder self-identified as Blaze Knight stretch forth a 
hand toward the newly fed Unit Two, an energy field forming visibly 
apparent between them, then Unit Two warped and twisted, an intense 
second passed wherein nothing could be seen and then there was a 
gigantic burst of shredded armor plates, exploding out of the center 
and taking their controls of Unit Two with it. Then there were two 
mecha revealed like Blaze Knight. The shaping, features, and red color 
were very similar, but the orange and yellow flames patterned on their 
lower legs and shoulders were distinctly different on the new one's 
self-generated armor. 
    "Blast Knight, Go!" 
    The playback ended. 
    "Fuyutsuki." Gendo never twitched from his position, fingers still 
steepled before his face. 
    "Yes?" The sub commander turned from where he'd been desperately 
trying to salvage something of their disintegrating security situation. 
    "Send a demolitions squad, blow Unit Zero free of the ice. Then 
instruct Rei she is to consume some of the remaining angel flesh and 
upgrade her Eva to elemental status. We do not have much time." He 
said, scowling behind his hands. "I'll leave the remainder of this 
situation up to you." 
    Sweating, overworked, and with a glance at the motionless 
commander, Fuyutsuki shifted to go back to his tasks when the door blew 
in. The command crew ducked for cover, some of the more alert ones 
firing guns into the smoke where the explosion came from. But when the 
cover cleared moments later, their target was both unconcerned and 
unharmed, standing there with a smile of victory on his face. 
    Fuyutsuki paled, losing bladder control. He'd never imagined 
anything so horrible as this! A double of *him* stood in the doorway, 
and... 
    The figure turned calmly towards them. 
    "Greetings. I am Mecha-Fuyutsuki. In all your concern over the more 
obvious of my allies you overlooked me entirely. Gendo, prepare to 
die." 
    ...had two shiny bolts protruding from the sides of his neck! 
    Gendo dropped a bead of sweat, hands steepled in front of him. 
"Fuyutsuki, I leave this..." 
    Fuyutsuki was overworked, overstressed, and finally pissed off. 
"Enough already!" He shouted back at the commander, unable to take his 
eyes from his mechanical double in panic. "I've been doing everything 
for three days now! I haven't seen you move since three days ago, when 
you were working on those EVA model kits..." 
    A look of understanding suddenly appeared on his face. He took his 
gaze from his slowly advancing mechanical twin to smirk at last upon 
Gendo. "You've glued yourself in place, haven't you?" 
    Gendo, with his hands steepled in front of him, scowled. "...yes." 
They forgot to put the warning label up that arch villains shouldn't 
play with them. He considered suing. 
    Fuyutsuki stood out of the way with a smile, while Mecha-Fuyutsuki 
calmly approached. Struggling desperately, Gendo managed at last to 
lean forward enough so that he fell face down on his control panel, 
hands still clasped before him as he turned his head to strike the 
emergency escape button with his nose. 
    Gendo's throne-like seat vanished into the floor, the glue on his 
pants pulling him back into his seat as the chair vanished along high 
speed special corridors. 
    "Mozel Tov!" Genma the Jew cried in glee, watching Gendo's route on 
screens. 

Completely Gratuitous Flashback to Eva Universe 

    Genma stopped Jared on his way staggering in shock over to Asuka's 
Blaze Knight, on the way out of Israel for the time being. "Hold it 
right there, boy!" The elder martial artist turned Nerv chief stopped 
his son and brought him around to face him. "Now boy, I didn't want to 
argue with you in from of these men, but I am responsible for teaching 
you the Law. It reflects poorly on me that you make these wild, 
unsubstantiated claims." 
    "What claims?" Jared leaned against the side of the jeep, having 
just recovered from his faint. 
    "That you have the priesthood, boy!!" Genma shouted in his face. 
"That's the worst of them, though the rest were pretty bad as well." 
    Jared closed his eyes, steadying himself. "And why," he asked. 
"Should that be a wild claim?" 
    Genma clasped a fist in the younger Saotome's plug suit and hauled 
the young man closer for a good, intimidating shout. "Because it would 
take at least a prophet for that level of communication with God!" 
    "Oddly enough," Jared responded, busy recentering himself. "You are 
right, but it *was* restored unto a prophet of God, and I have received 
it in proper order." 
    This argument was meant to have been whispered, but Genma had been 
shouting from the start, regaining the sort of attention he'd meant 
originally to miss. He received the attention of the Prime Minister and 
his friend, as well as several of the nearby Jewish troops as he yelled 
out even louder. "That's ridiculous! By Jewish tradition God stopped 
sending prophets with Ezra and Nehemiah!" 
    That claim woke Jared up, focusing away from his own problems, he 
turned his gaze intently on the old man. "And who said this in the 
beginning to start this tradition?" 
    Genma got a fish out of water look and directed a pleading look to 
the Prime Minister and his rabbi friend, who were coming up. The rabbi 
answered. "No one knows his name." 
    Jared's lips curved into a frown. "But how can that be true? For a 
man to proclaim the will of God he must needs be a prophet. How can he 
be a prophet to proclaim and you not know his name?" 
    Genma, Jews and rabbis spent some time in thought, refusing to meet 
his gaze. 
    Jared built on his answer, asking another question. "What is 
written in the scriptures? How say you? Is it not written that Surely 
the Lord God will do nothing, but he revealeth his secret unto his 
servants the prophets?" 
    A rabbi was shaking his head. "You quote from Amos, and we do not 
revere his words." 
    Jared shook his head. "How oft ye have been reproved for pride, and 
of your stiff necks. If you would be brought to believe the words of 
God ye would have them to be as few as possible. Very well, if that 
must be. What say the scriptures? Do ye heed David, king of Israel, 
whose psalm is that God is the same? How is the Lord to be the same if 
he changes? If he called prophets once and calls them not again, is 
that not change?" 
    He got some nods, along with a grudging statement. "It is so 
written. But put aside this argument, for we are weary." 
    Jared grew indignant at the man. "I shall not until you have 
answered three questions; yes or no." 
    "Ask." Said the beleaguered rabbi. 
    Jared focused on the gentleman. "Has the Messiah come?" 
    "We do not believe he has." The Jewish preacher amended. "No." 
    "I believe he has, but shall argue the point a later time. Do the 
scriptures not say the Messiah to be a prophet?" Jared continued. 
    The rabbi saw where this was going, but the Prime Minister did not, 
he answered for his friend. "Yes, the scriptures tell us he will be a 
great prophet." 
    "That is true." Jared nodded. "But if, as you say, he has not come, 
and if you believe him to be a prophet, how can you say he *will* come 
and redeem his people if the Lord will send no prophets?" 
    He got dumbfounded looks. 
    Jared returned them a confident gaze, smiling fondly. "The Lord 
does call prophets, and he has called prophets, and he will yet call 
prophets again. I have seen them for myself and given you three 
witnesses that the Lord ceases not to call prophets to lead his people. 
Ye have none, save one unnamed man only with no known claim to 
authority, to say that he doesn't." 

End Flashback 

*** 

    The battle began as expected for the locals, but for Jared it was 
new material. 
    At the appointed time for the contest of who would control the 
district, Miss Ra, spokeswoman for the Rara Army, appeared on a 
conveniently situated rooftop with a good view of the contested area, 
posing proudly. 
    Jared saw her give a short speech that was mostly all bluster, 
except for the actual command to begin the attack. On the same rooftop 
as Miss Ra, a young lady in a piloting jumpsuit of enemy design sat in 
a chair and began to focus her energies through a pair of Life Sympathy 
Globes (the proper name for the crystal balls that controlled these 
mecha), which Jared found very interesting. The arrangement was as if 
they'd taken the pilot's seat and cockpit out of the mecha itself and 
sat it on a nearby rooftop, far away from danger. So they remote 
controlled their robots, hmm? Interesting. Range of the control 
mechanism had to be short if they were willing to leave the exposed 
cockpit that close to the fighting zone. 
    Or it might be blatant overconfidence. Miss Ra was there, and he 
couldn't see any reason for her other than as a symolic gesture. A way 
of saying "You're no threat at all, we are so sure you're impotent 
we'll leave critical personnel undefended in the path of danger." 
    Jared had to agree Commander Sanada fought differently than he did. 
If it had been *him* in command, the first order to a Core Robot 
would've been to hose that building with their rifles. Take out the 
pilot, you take out the robot, and Miss Ra would've been an extra 
bonus. 
    But the three Core Robots waited in ambush for the single, 
gargantuan monster mecha that ripped through the streets and began 
lumbering into town. 
    The thing was huge, half again as tall as the Core Robots used by 
Sanada's force. It was built in the shape of an upright lizard. He'd 
call it a robotic Tyrannosaurus Rex except it had more differences than 
similarities to that kind of giant lizard. The head was much smaller, 
legs were forward jointed instead of a T-Rex' reverse joints, the arms 
were much heftier and he rather suspected full of weapons (based on the 
*last* robots they'd fought), and overall the thing towered over 
buildings in a way a T-Rex would *like* to do, but couldn't, as this 
thing was several times the size of the dinosaur. 
    The Mechasaur (as he decided to call it) stalked to the center of 
the area and, exactly as planned, the three Core Robots (he was going 
to have to change that name) sprang on it from ambush, firing their 
rifles on full auto, rarely missing their mark. 
    The Mechasaur was completely unfazed. It's armor was proof against 
the assault. All three Core Robots continued the assault, but it was 
clear they were making little headway. The Mechasaur replied with a 
rocket blast that sent the blue robot to take cover behind a building, 
then launched a coupla spines along its back that turned out to have 
microcables attached, and that quickly wrapped around the white and red 
Core Robots, transmitting enough heat to begin to melt their armor. 

    Commander Sanada slapped his chair's armrest in rage. The battle 
had gone about as badly as expected, with the Rara mecha being more 
armored and heavily armed than his Core Robots could handle on their 
meager armaments. It was defeating them despite the odds being three on 
one. 
    Officer Amelia asked if they should send the call sign. 
    Ken Sanada grinned, facing the giant display screens a moment 
longer when his trio of good girls were bravely getting beaten. One 
*awesome* pilot, or even an excellent one would have turned the fray, 
having greater access to the Core Robot's potential... 
    ...but that was not the plan today. 
    His grin, when the commander turned to face them, startled his 
bridge crew, who had *not* expected him to be looking so triumphant. 
"Don't send the call sign yet. I've got an alternate plan." 
    The mad scientist, when he picked up an ordinary phone and spoke to 
the dial tone, was surprisingly calm. "An emergency situation has 
arisen. As of now, 1705 hours, we need the Skysaber." 
    "Acknowledged." Came the curt reply, audible over bridge speakers. 
    Elsewhere, Jared tapped the watch on his wrist to stop its 
vibrating. "It's time." 

    On the battlefront, Mitsuki was being jostled about as her red Core 
Robot shivered and struggled to escape the superhot cable wrapped 
around its neck. She was just about to the brink of her endurance when 
the cables mysteriously snapped. 
    Panting with relief, she heard the monitors conveying the words. 
    "Where monsters rampage, We're there to take them down! Where 
treasure glitters We're there to claim it! Where an enemy rises to face 
us... VICTORY WILL BE OURS!!!!" 
    What Mitsuki didn't have the knowledge to recognise as the Slayers 
theme music began to play over all the available channels. 

    "Victory...? What is going on here?" Connie demanded from beside 
Commander Sanada's chair. 
    Amelia touched her earpiece, listening to fiend reports as she read 
from her controls. "Two figures have appeared out of nowhere on the 
battlefield!" She said over the playing theme music, and focused the 
main monitor in on a pair of figures. One was taller than the other, 
male, and dressed in white. The other was shorter, female, and 
primarily dressed in red. Both were masked, and the breeze was playing 
with the capes on their adventuring garb. 
    "What *are* those two wearing!?" Connie demanded. "And what are 
they doing on the battlefield? Get them out of there at once, do you 
understand me!" 
    For once, the first time in a very long while, Commander Sanada 
raised his voice during a battle. "Cancel that order. Amelia, get our 
Core Robots out of there. We've given this battle over to an 
independant assault group. It's no longer our fight." 
    The scientist leaned back, kicking his heels up on to a control 
stand in front of his seat and crossing his arms comfortably behind his 
head. "Buut, that doesn't mean we can't watch and have fun." He 
amended, obviously smiling. 
    Everybody stared at him. 
    "Core Robots acknowledge the order to withdraw." Amelia stated, 
stunned but not so much she couldn't obey orders. 
    "How do they expect to fight? I don't see any weapons or robots. 
Where have they got them hidden?" Zelgadis mused, as if to himself. 
    "Now look here, Commander Sanada!!!!" Connie began to berate the 
commander with her full head of steam up and ready to tear into him 
with all she's got. 
    Having prepared for this moment, Ken Sanada slid a Twinkie into her 
open mouth and sat back to watch the fight. 
  

===== 
Author's Notes 

    Well, what a surprise. I had thought that the fires of my dragon of 
rage would live forever. But it appears that the old lizard far prefers 
food and company over raging in his den for the eons, and he's grown 
stunningly torpid after devouring a bit of feedback. 

    (sigh) Ah, me. Well if you'd asked me a month ago I would have said 
I doubted anyone knew I was writing a story. But since then you all 
seem to have crawled out of the woodwork to protest me taking it down. 
No doubt you'll all go immediately back into hiding again, but for the 
moment it is easier for me to put this back on the web rather than 
reply in the negative to all those emails asking for it, telling them I 
won't give it out. 

    Hmm, I guess I can look on this as spiting those who *wanted* me to 
be down off the web.