Part 6.

Sorry. First, sorry about the flood. It was late and I was tired. Second,
sorry for not attaching the latest part. It was late and I was tired.
Part seven is in production. Any shouts of encouragement or suggestions
will be entertained.

__________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
The New Yahoo! Shopping - with improved product search
http://shopping.yahoo.com

-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: SE006.txt
-- Desc: SE006.txt

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: Address 1302, street 251, 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?!

[Ooookaaay. 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 disturbingly cute 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.


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