Protector of Men Ch 1

Everything that has a beginning has an end. But every end, in turn, has a beginning. This is the story of Zandra. This is the story of a new Zion, and what happens when two generation that were never meant to meet, find out the truth. This is the story of the Protector of Men.

Zandra screamed as she fell. It was a long way down, leaving her ample time to panic. Her hair flapped and her clothes rippled as the skyline rushed by.

Her stomach lurched and the pavement grew closer. No!, she screamed at herself, falling too fast... Time seemed to move slowly for her as she descended ever rapidly, her final moment coming ever closer. Her arms waved frantically as she came to terminal velocity, still advancing on the ground. Her instinct had taken over, and her mind seemed devoid of all coherent thought. Oh god, oh god, she repeated, the thoughts echoing in her empty mind. Her eyes were transfixed on the pavement rising up to meet her. Oh god, She could see cars driving down the street below her, but was still only thinking of hitting the ground. She fell further. No, she screamed again, flailing helplessly.

Everyone was there to see her out. Zandra sighed heavily as she sat back up in her deeply reclined seat. Cover, standing beside her, unstrapped her legs and began to walk over to the group of computer screens, where they all stood watching her intently.

"You did okay," Trim offered, hiding most of his small body behind a storage tank. Only the top of his head and his short dark hair could be seen. Cover gave him a dirty look and turned midi-stride back to face Zandra. He offered his hand to her; she accepted.

"Like the rest will tell you," he stated, "we all fall the first time." Shade, Kesia, and Alias nodded vigorously, while Trim just looked sheepish. Zandra was still disappointed, and retreated to her bunker without a word.

Why can't I do this, she asked herself, plopping onto the side of her hard bed. Zandra wasn't used to failing, and the test had disturbed her. In her old life she had succeeded in just about everything she set her mind to do. She had herself convinced that all it really took to be outstanding was the resolve to succeed. Many had lauded her as talented, versatile, even a prodigy. So why couldn't she do this?

She had seen the program upload, so she knew it wasn't real. Right? Maybe she wasn't so sure anymore. Zandra had watched Cover do it - he was able to make the jump with room to spare.

"Remember," he had said just before leaping, "It is all in your mind."

His dreadlocks whipped around his head as he flew upwards – his arm waving once he had landed… But she didn't remember, and didn't get ten feet across the gap before starting to fall. Instinct had taken over and she just plummeted, too panicked to even think. How would she train herself to be rid of instinct?

Perhaps it was something entirely different - perhaps her mind just wouldn't be able to handle it. Had she really used her mind in her old life at all? Maybe this isn't for me. But if it wasn't real, then why couldn't she trick herself into understanding it? It seemed like an insurmountable feat to shut out her old life, even just human instincts. But, she figured there are others that have done it... and hastily she made up her mind to try again, to beat the system the next chance she got; Just not now.

She came out of her room hours later, but only because she was hungry. Hungry enough to eat, since the food was almost unbearable. Kesia was sitting at the table in the mess room and smiled when Zandra sat down.

"Just came out?" she asked as nicely as possible. Zandra simply nodded as she played with her watery food.

"You really don't need to worry," she said honestly, "everyone gets used to it, and it is a big change."

"Tell me about it." Zandra took a gulp and tried not to visibly gag. Neither said anything for a while, and they finished eating in silence. Kesia got up to leave but paused briefly before walking out. She turned back to Zandra - but looked at the ground as she talked, as if afraid to look her in the eyes.

"If you want, I can load something... If you want to practice,"

"Practice?" Zandra snapped to attention. Kesia was already unsure of her offer, and now turned red. "Well," she stumbled, "I mean, I can load anything - you can do whatever..." she smiled at Zandra, weakly.

Zandra put away her bowl and spork, immediately following Kesia to the main deck.

It was the same area that she had been in before, except this time she was on the ground. Instead of her ill-fitting garb, Zandra was now wearing blue sweatpants with a white tank, her long blonde hair pulled up into a tight ponytail. Cars drove aimlessly by, birds soared in the air, it just all seemed so real, so normal...

No, she firmly reminded herself, it's just a program. Just like virtual reality… except a hundred years better. Small steps then, she thought to herself with a sarcastic laugh.

She began to jog along the empty sidewalk, continually picking up her pace. Her long ponytail swung from side to side with each step. She constantly reminded herself that no matter how real he concrete felt or how dirty the gutters looked; it was just a program. Just a very intricate, extremely complex program.

It had been a few minutes since she started, and her breath became labored as she continued to sprint faster. No, she reminded herself again, You're not tired from anything. She pictured the ship, Purgatory, and remembered that she was really only sitting in a chair up there. She pushed herself to run faster: You can always push harder. She took a deep breath and continued to sprint down the uneven pavement of the sidewalk, faster than before.

Back in Purgatory, Cover quietly joined Kesia in watching Zandra's progress. She was doing well, but not phenomenally.

"How did she start?" he asked Kesia, his eyes still locked on the monitors.

"Well," she replied, "she started out pretty regular, but she's steadily increased for about ten minutes."

"Yes," he said blankly, "she's right over physical there," pointing to a screen of Zandra's vitals. Trim walked in and eyed the screens too, curious about Zandra's capabilities...

Her legs began to burn as she ran faster, and she resisted the all too common urge to slow down. It actually was nice for her to get to run if she would have thought about it - Zandra had always exercised in her old life to de-stress. And though her gait was fast, it was not unnaturally fast. This was supposed to be just like a video game, not real. Faster, she told herself. She decided to test her true limit of speed, a training method of her own creation. Faster, faster.

Cover watched with a smile as he recognized Zandra's quickened pace. Trim's eyes widened as he too witnessed the change. Zandra was past the 'boundary of the physical' now, running just as quickly as Trim could, maybe even faster.

But she couldn't hold it for much longer; five blocks was enough. It was too much, too painful to continue for another second. No, don't stop... She yelled at herself, wanting so badly to slow down, to take a break. Her legs felt like they were about to give, and her throat hurt from her sharp breathing. Zandra wanted to collapse but continued to run nonetheless. The ground looked so comfortable, if she could only find something to trip on...

No! She would not give in willingly, but she had to! This pain is most certainly real! Her breath came in painful gasps and her legs were stiff from overuse. It was too much to handle, and she slowed to a stop, bending over to try and catch her breath. She felt the involuntary rise in her throat, but was successful in keeping control of herself. Zandra knew the 'world' was fake but again found herself unable to keep in control. It just felt so real, she countered, and was instantly more frustrated than before, angry that she had tried to justify her newfound weakness. Her eyes welled in exasperation, but she fought her personal instinct. Sweat dripped from her nose onto the dirty pavement.

Everyone was silent in Purgatory - they felt like they had witnessed something private. Cover was not at all surprised to see her break, but continued to watch Zandra with interest. She was intensely (and unnecessarily) frustrated, he could tell. Perhaps if it could be harnessed, her anger could actually help her. After all, this was only the third time she had jacked into a program. By most standards, she was doing fairly well.

Kesia stared at the screen uncomfortably. She had never been in a program before, so she had no idea what Zandra was going through. But confrontation always made Kesia a little jumpy. When she had been unplugged Zandra had put up enough of a fight, and every time she didn't succeed, didn't break the records, she became frustrated. Kesia shook her head in uneasiness, hoping that Zandra would be able to calm down once she was out. Silently, she waited for an order.

Trim was also uncomfortable. Standing behind the two, he looked from Cover to Kesia, but neither returned his glances. He held his mouth closed tight; his feet planted firmly on the floor. Just don't open your mouth. He was startled to feel a weight on his shoulder, but it was only Shade. He shot Trim a questioning look, but Trim didn't explain the situation, and Shade soon moved his hand. They all continued to watch the screens as Zandra went back to walking down the sidewalk.

She sighed as she pulled out the cellphone still in her sweatpants' pocket. This is enough, she told herself. She flipped it open, immediately dialing Kesia.

"Operator,"

"I'm ready," Zandra said, as politely as she could. Inside she was trying not to break down, she was so frustrated with herself.

"Okay," Kesia replied. Cover moved to where Zandra's immobile body lay and prepared to take out the needle. "We're getting you out."

The small world around Zandra suddenly became white, and she was back in Purgatory. Her heart dropped when she saw them there. Again, they had seen her fail. Zandra could feel her cheeks turning hot as Cover undid her bindings. And again, she left for her bunk without a word.

Shade found out from Trim that she was frustrated with her performance. Why was she always so disappointed with everything?

Someone would have to speak to her.