18
After walking for a few moments in uncharacteristic serenity, the group made it to the main party -- who still held the Merovingian.
"Sasha!"
Schwarz was snatched away from Seraph and crushed against Red in a fierce but gentle hug. A confused Sekhmet watched as the young blond wrapped his arms around the bigger man's waist and cried into his shirt.
Pyre blinked. Archangel patted her shoulder. "Do not worry about it. I was surprised as well when I found out about those two."
"So, he's...?" Pyre began.
Archangel shook his head. "Not at all. Neither of them is."
"Then how...?"
"Quite simply, Schwarz-san is not male."
Pyre blinked, again. A glimmer of a smile crossed Mr. Stoic's face, and he said, "Basically, we pod-born are separated by the machines in groups according to gender and ethnicity, so that our mental image of ourselves is indeed what we look like. We're not sure why they do it, and we've yet to find out. However, even a machine can make a mistake, and this time, Schwarz was the result. She grew up in the Matrix believing she was male; when she was unplugged, she wasn't exactly thrilled to discover that she was in fact a girl."
Pyre blinked again. Then she looked down. Then she looked back at Archangel. "Yikes." He nodded. "Schwarz wasn't able to handle it. When she jacked in, her avatar was always male. Her operator teased her endlessly, and rather cruelly, and her captain was no help. According to her, Epona-san was the only one who treated her normally… until Poitin-san was unplugged."
Pyre looked at the pair. "So I noticed."
"He stabilised her mentally, and her avatar started changing to a female form. Sometimes it switched genders; she can do that on command now. I was unplugged shortly before they got together."
Pyre watched them for a few more moments. "I think it's a really good thing I'm not a yaoi fan right now." Archangel's eyebrow twitched. "I hate it when they do that and she's still in the male avatar… their first kiss was like that too."
Pyre shrugged. "If it makes them happy..."
Poni made an ahem noise.
Archangel abruptly shut up; Red ignored her. "In case you're enjoyin' the ambiance that much, we'd be best to make an exit now," Poni ordered. Red sent a glare her way, but scooped Schwarz into his strong arms. "We need to get him out." Archangel looked to Seraph and Sekhmet. "These two as well."
"We are forgetting someone," Seraph replied. Sekhmet looked up. "What about Marcus?" she whispered. Red opened his mouth to snap something, looked at her face, and closed it again. "In his current state, he'd be hard t' bring along," Poni replied.
Sekhmet looked down. "I know… but…."
Poni put a hand on her shoulder. "We can always get him later, lass."
She nodded sadly, her ears again flat against her skull. "Now, let's get the hell outta --" Poni was interrupted when a figure grabbed Sekhmet from behind, pulling her close and putting a gun to her head.
The feline cried out, starting to struggle but stopping when she noticed the gun. She looked up to see…
"M-m-marcus!?"
He stared emotionlessly at the rebels. Archangel dropped into a combative stance, but didn't spring forward, instead staring into the vampire's eyes. The vampire looked back, eyes blank. Archangel suddenly whirled on the Merovingian. "How can he function if you have taken his soul!?" he snarled.
"I did 'im a favour. He chose to betray me. Thus, he receives the consequences of 'is action."
"That isn't what I asked!"
"'e seems to function well enough now, does he not?"
The angry Japanese teenager seemed to realise that he'd be getting no straight answer from the French One, and turned back to Marcus. "Release her." Marcus didn't respond, nor did Sekhmet move. Her eyes, however, were closed, and it seemed to the humans that she was close to crying again. "Marcus… please…"
"'e cannot 'ear you. Zere is nothing to 'ear you."
She ignored him. "Marcus…."
The vampire's expression was still empty. Archangel looked at Poni pleadingly; he couldn't stand to watch Sekhmet pleading with the shell of the man she loved. Poni was frozen, gun still to the Merovingian's head. "Stalemate. Again," Red growled.
Suddenly, Marcus dropped the gun and fell back, holding his head. Quick as lightning, Archangel had snatched Sekhmet away from him and put her near Seraph, placing himself between vampire and cat-girl.
The vampire fell to his knees, holding his head, mouth open wide in a wordless scream. Slowly, cautiously, the fighter approached him. Was the real Marcus… fighting the reprogramming? Marcus growled then, shaking his head. Archangel skipped back a few paces, watching the other.
Marcus then rose and ran down the hall, staggering, but moving with surprising quickness. Archangel rose and returned to them. "Let's go," he said softly. Seraph looked to Marcus' path. "Yes."
They left the château sans Merovingian -- Archangel had neutralised him using a solid blow to the neck, leaving the program in 'standby' mode -- and arrived at the rebel's warehouse via a key that Archangel had palmed.
A quick call to Salvo ensured they'd be able to get back on the ship.
"Sasha first," Red said quietly, but the tone in his voice left no room for argument. "Get her operator online."
"Number?"
Red rattled it off, Poni dialled it, and a few moments later, the phone rang. Red held it to Schwarz's ear. The young man in his arms vanished, moments later, a young woman opened her eyes to the grinning brown face of the Echo's operator, Cyclone.
Back at the warehouse, Poni hung up the phone and dialled Salvo's number. Archangel wandered over to Seraph. "Seraph-san, might I ask you something?" What is it?" he asked, smiling.
"When I was younger, my sensei told me that the style of martial arts we use, tenshi no sento, was developed by an angel from the Chinese lands, known as Seraph… I was wondering… if that angel… was you?"
"I am afraid I cannot answer that question," Seraph replied, still smiling, "as you already know the answer."
Slowly, an answering smile made its way onto Archangel's face. "Angel, you're up." Poni called. Archangel bowed politely to Seraph and returned to his captain, hesitating before taking the phone. Pyre followed, with Poni hanging it up. "Sekhmet... I'm sorry."
"It isn't your fault," she replied from the corner where she was curled up in a miserable ball. "It's mine, for getting caught."
"It's not yer fault either... I'll try t'find a way to help ya."
"Thank you," she whispered.
The phone ring. The Scotswoman gave her a half smile, and then lifted the receiver, disappearing right after. Sekhmet cast her eyes to the floor, curling her tail around her ankles. Is this… what the Oracle meant? Seraph walked over to her. "Do not worry. I do not believe that matters are over quite yet."
She looked up at the one-time angel, a glimmer of hope starting to show in her blue eyes.
"I have a feeling that Marcus will soon make his decision."
Sekhmet nodded as she rose to her feet. "Where to now, Seraph?"
"We go back to the Oracle."
"All right…" She looked out the window and frowned. "Shouldn't we wait until nightfall, though?" "Why?" He looked slightly confused. Sekhmet blinked, then pointed out her ears and tail silently. Seraph pulled out a key. "That will not matter with the route we take." Curious blue eyes followed his movements as the kittenish program strode to stand beside him.
He put the key into the door and turned it. Opening it revealed a long hallway, lined with green doors. Her eyes widened. "What is that place?"
"It leads to back doors."
"Oh! For programmer access?"
He nodded. She looked around, the turned to him again. "But… what if a programmer shows up?" "One won't." Seraph replied, leading her into the backdoor network. She followed him trustingly -- right now, he was the only one she trusted.
***
It had been a day or so since the rebels had taken him hostage. The Merovingian had gone on with business as usual -- 'business' currently being the young Exile standing proudly before him. He was as beautiful as Lucifer, with long, dark blue hair pulled back in a ponytail, pale, almost albino skin, and eyes the colour of blood. Feathery blue wings sprouted from his back, invisible and intangible to the coppertops; he wore a tight red muscle shirt to match his eyes, black jeans, and a black trench coat.
"Rafael. Please, sit." The Merovingian gestured to the chairs in front of him.
The angel program nodded and sat, calmly facing the Frenchman. "What brings you to my lovely abode?"
"What else?" he asked. "The opportunity to escape deletion."
"You know zat zis mean you will become one of my... employees?"
"I do. And I have no problem with that."
"Very well. We will, of course, 'ave to alter your programming."
"How so? And if it includes removing my wings, then forget it."
"Not at all. Just a little zomething to prevent ze agents from finding your code."
"Works for me… no personality altering? No sub-programming?"
"Do I have reason to install such programming?" The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.
"None whatsoever," the fallen angel replied, leaning back easily in his chair.
"Zen we have a deal?"
"Yes. One thing, though: I don't take well to betrayal."
"If you do not betray me, zere will be no need to betray you."
"Works for me."
The Merovingian held out his hand. Rafe took it easily, offering a firm but submissive handshake. "Zen let us get to business, shall we?" The angel nodded. The Merovingian stood and opened a door, after using a key. Rafael obediently followed the Frenchman.