Protector of Men Ch 36

Stephen's funeral came and went. It was a quick yet painful affair: it started with a poignant eulogy (delivered by a stoic Colombus) and ended with his ashes placed in Zion's vault. Zandra had tried her best to keep her composure in public.

The funeral had almost been a joke to her. Stephen would have laughed at its ridiculous brevity and detachedness. Zandra felt like Colombus' speech had barely even begun to describe his greatest qualities. He had been her best friend -no, more than that. But she was silent during the event.

Everyone else was silent, as well. Cover had been in a continual state of shock since the event had transpired – Tevy was the first person to be killed personally by an agent, the second killed at all. And the things Zandra had done afterwards...maybe Tevy's death had allowed Zandra to become the one. There was no question about her abilities, but now Cover wasn't sure how she could gain control again. To fight again.

Alias was not as shocked. She had toyed with the feeling of gratefulness for being alive, but now regarded it as disrespectful. Yet, she still harbored the thought in the back of her mind. Yes, she was crippled, and yes, she'd never be able to contribute like she used to, but she was alive. There was no guilt. And though she could have easily blamed Zandra for both of their current conditions, she didn't. Alias herself was more at fault for her own injury than anyone else, and she understood it.

Shade was pained by the death, but not because of Stephen. Over the past weeks he had almost forgotten how attracted he was to Zandra – and now that she was mourning, he only yearned to be there for her. After Alias' accident he had been there for Alias, and no one else. Even then, Alias wouldn't admit that he was with her because of the accident. She insisted that it was because of a 'mutual attraction'. Shade let her think what she wanted, but inside felt like he was lying. It was as if Shade hadn't seen Zandra in weeks. He hated to see her tearless face, knowing that inside she was falling apart. And all because of another man. Not to say that he wasn't saddened by the event, but that it caused him to re-evaluate his feelings. He knew he cared for her, but also knew that now was not the time. For then, he would have to let his demons eat away at each other while he watched her in pain. There would be nothing he could do to make her feel better.

Trim and Kemp hadn't been as affected as the rest of the crew. Though Trim was indeed saddened by Stephen's passing, he was more surprised by it. Someone was dead. And if Trim was going to keep jacking in, he'd have to toughen up. Things weren't the same anymore.

Kemp was still getting to know everyone, so she had no close emotional ties to Stephen. Nor did she completely understand the sheer impact of his death. The first close casualty of war.

She had long given up on comforting Zandra. Kemp understood that she didn't want comforting, and was therefore generally quiet since that night. It was a change that Purgatory was glad to have – even though it cost Kemp some of her pride. It was true though – she did know some of Zandra's pain. And she knew what could happen when grief turned on the mourner. Kemp was just glad that she got out of the Matrix when she did. She probably wouldn't have been able to take much more.

The Mayflower's reactions had been much more general. They mourned the loss of their new recruit. They mourned their own inability to save him. None would have fathomed that Zandra would blame herself; they figured that if they had truly been prepared, Stephen never would have found himself in the agents' possession in the first place.

So they all sat together, mourning for their own private reasons. They were at the restaurant that Stephen and Zandra had dined at only a few days ago – eating together after the funeral, like a wake. Almost everyone was silent during the meal.

"Thank you," Colombus quietly said as the waiter handed her another drink. He nodded once and left. Colombus took a sip and looked at Cover.

"Are you planning on heading out soon?" she asked him across the table, quickly attracting everyone's focus. She didn't care, as long as they didn't say anything out of place. Cover sighed before answering.

"I think we'll wait a week or two before going back out," he replied, glancing at each crewmember in turn. Zandra didn't return his look, and kept staring at her food, having not eaten it. It was hard for her to focus on anything. Everyone was quiet again, and some began to peck at their dinners. Others stared disjointedly about the restaurant in search of solace. None found any. They finished their dinner with few words passed around, and parted ways for the night. Zandra found herself being carted off with Kesia and Kemp, while Shade and Alias parted together. It seemed to Zandra that they were always together as of late – either Alias was still having trouble, or there was something more. Something more, something that she didn't have. Zandra tried not to think of that. Everything reminded her of Stephen.

The three girls bunked in Kesia's apartment – Kesia on one bed, Zandra on another, and Kemp on the couch. Kesia and Kemp got to sleep fairly quickly, but Zandra stayed awake. It wasn't that she didn't want to sleep – she was too far gone to worry about nightmares to skip sleep – it was that her mind would not let her. Her thoughts kept leading her in circles that inevitable led to Stephen. Their feelings. Her feelings.

She finally gave up and got out of bed. Kesia, in the bed next to her, sighed and switched sides. Kemp was silent on the couch. Zandra made her bed and walked to the door. Maybe a walk would help.

She was as quiet as possible opening the door, but it still creaked in protest while she opened and closed it. Hopefully Kesia and Kemp hadn't heard her. She waited a second before leaving the door. Two-four-nine, she noted before walking to the elevator, two-four-nine.

The elevator went down five levels before stopping to let someone on. Zandra didn't acknowledge them, and instead got off at the stop. She didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment, and she didn't want to risk them recognizing her. She remembered with embarrassment the last time that she was almost recognized.

The floor she was on was rather desolate. There was no bar with a canopy, no chairs to rest in, just a bare hallway that connected the one side of Zion to the other. There was nothing to find on this floor. She crossed the hallway to the other elevator.

"Zandra," a voice called, and instantly her pulse raced. She imagined two things happening – either it was a crewmember asking why she was out, or it was a stranger who had something to say. She dreaded both, but it was neither. It was the embarrassed lady, the councilor that Zandra had met so long ago. She was dressed differently now, and was walking slowly to where Zandra stood from a door down the hallway. Zandra couldn't read her expression.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, coming closer. Zandra made a face, then nodded. There was no way to get out of it, and Zandra silently lamented her position. But it wasn't horrible.

"Neither can I," responded the councilor. She suddenly backed up, seemingly surprised at something.

"I never introduced myself," she blustered, thrusting out her hand so Zandra could shake it. She did, with a little hesitation.

"I'm Councilor Yogere," she continued, now smiling. Zandra tried to return the gesture, but found herself unable to.

"What brings you back to Zion?" she asked. Zandra took a second to answer, making sure that she would be able to stay tear-free.

"Actually," she responded slowly, "A friend of mine…" her lip started to tremble again – don't lose it in front of her!

"Tevy," she responded with a knowing nod, "I'm sorry."

Zandra nodded quickly and jerkily, and they were both quiet for a second.

"A lot has changed," she continued, "The system used to turn a blind eye to us, but now I think they see us as a real threat. A lot of changes everywhere…" she said, trailing off.

"Really," Zandra asked. She was mildly curious.

"We've had to stop meeting every rebel," she said with a frown, "There are just too many."

Zandra was confused.

"Recruitment's been booming," she continued, "It's truly amazing." She walked over to the banister in front of them, and looked down at the expanses of Zion. "Truly amazing," she repeated. Zandra nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

"I'll let you go," the councilor said nicely, "You should get some rest."

Zandra nodded at the thought, and said a quick goodbye before departing for the elevator again. Five floors back up, and she began to walk to Kesia's room. Two-four-nine.

Again the door protested as she slunk in, but neither Kesia nor Kemp awoke. She sat back down into her bed, but didn't sleep. For the next two weeks, she slept with constant trouble, and awoke hours before Kemp or Kesia did. Many times she wandered Zion, sometimes she did not. Stephen was always on her mind. Each day they lazed about the city, many times meeting up with the rest of Purgatory or the Mayflower to eat or 'relax'. Generally though, they all found it hard to. But their grieving couldn't last forever – there was still a war being waged.