Protector of Men Ch 39

"Where are we?" she asked the man as he led her down the white hallways. She had almost become accustomed to the strange doors, but this hallway was something entirely new to her.

"These are back doors," he explained, continuing to lead her down the endless hallway. His words sounded as if someone else had said them, as if he were repeating what he had heard before.

"Must be safe," she added as an afterthought. The man nodded a few times, then was silent again. He stopped at a door in front of him and pulled out another key; unlocked it. Zandra's moment was coming. The time to find out the truth about Stephen's death, how the Oracle might have stopped it…

The man gestured for her to go through the door first, and she did. She found herself in a living room of sorts, cheaply decorated with bland paintings on the bare walls. The Oracle was sitting on a cheap sofa, and across from it was a bright red loveseat that Zandra guessed she was supposed to sit in. The Oracle looked to her and smiled sadly. Zandra didn't return the gesture, and remained standing where she was. There would be no fake smiles from her.

"Sit down, hon," she told her, gesturing towards the loveseat across from her sofa. She was still smiling. Zandra didn't move.

"I think I'll stand," she told her coldly.

"Whatever floats your boat," she answered, obviously taking no interest in whether Zandra sat or not. She sighed, then looked back at her again.

"I'm sorry, kid," she told her, eyes full of feeling. Zandra wouldn't take it.

"Sorry?" she asked with fervor, "Sorry!?" The woman just kept smiling her mournful smile, and it enraged her further.

"You knew it was going to happen!" she yelled. Seraph shifted behind her, and she was a little quieter. "Why didn't you stop it?" Tears threatened to fall.

The Oracle sighed again.

"I know, kid, I know," she said, shaking her head, "But I can't change it now. I couldn't have helped."

"You could have told him not to leave!" she shouted again. The Oracle was not fazed, but she could tell that Seraph was feeling uncomfortable. Let him. Her lip trembled again, she could feel the hot tears fall down her face. She refused to blink.

"Zandra, they would have taken me down too, and then where would we all be?" Zandra was silent.

"I know you're mourning, and I know you love him," she told her. "Sit down."

Zandra shook her head, and continued standing. The woman shrugged, but didn't push it. She had already tested Zandra's limits, and didn't want to risk being harmed by a person - a human. That would have been embarrassing.

"I told you that things were gonna get rough, didn't I?" she said, eyes imploring. Zandra sighed, and nodded. "And I told you we all suffer – and we all do. It's a fact of life, kid; you can't move forward without learning to lose a few."

"Lose a few?"

"I know it's hard kiddo, and it'll be hard for a while – but I promise you if I could have changed anything to keep him here, I would have. No one wants to be sad, it just happens that way."

Zandra was quiet.

"But onto other news…" she started, taking a sip from her plastic cup of juice that sat on the table in front of them.

"The agents have become deadly," she told her, "It isn't safe for just anyone to be in the matrix anymore. But you already know that."

Zandra gave her a look. Well that's obvious, she thought. Stephen's dead. Her gloom intensified.

"Everyone is going to have to be more careful; things are changing quickly in this world."

Zandra looked up at the woman. What did she mean? Things are changing quickly? The Oracle detected her curiosity – just as planned.

"There are certain people in the matrix that have made it dangerous for others to be in it."

"Certain people?"

"Yes," she continued, nodding her head and widening her eyes.

"Like who?"

The Oracle paused before answering, and only did so after looking at Seraph. He nodded silently, but Zandra couldn't see it.

"There is a man named the Merovingian," she said slowly, enunciating each word for emphasis, "He's been building up a collection of prisoners, and he's getting unruly. And you don't wanna get near that one."

Zandra was quiet, silently willing her to continue. She was enthralled; someone could be working in the matrix while still plugged into it?

"If he contacts you, ignore it," she said, waving a hand. "You're better off without his propaganda, and there's no telling what he'll do to ya if you catch him in a bad mood."

Zandra nodded blankly, filing the information safely in her mind. Something wasn't right though… and she wasn't quite sure whether to believe the woman. Though she wasn't as sure of it as before, she still felt like the Oracle was at least somewhat involved in Stephen's death. If she couldn't have helped it, at least she could have been less selfish. But maybe that was too much to ask.

The Oracle noted her sudden quietness and decided to change the subject. She leaned forward in her seat, and gestured to a plate on the table.

"Cookie?" she asked politely, watching Zandra intently for a response.

"No." she blatantly responded. The Oracle frowned a little, but didn't force it.

"You're a talented kid," she said softly, leaning back into her chair. Zandra almost laughed at the remark: talent would have been keeping her comrades alive, keeping Alias healthy. But she had failed in both departments.

"You've gotta stop blaming yourself," the woman said, shaking her head in disapproval. Zandra sighed.

"Well, I can't help ya any more than I've tried," she said, getting up. "Just remember to stay away from the Merovingian."

Zandra paused before nodding. Seraph opened the door back up for her, and she was gone. The two walked silently down the hallway and back to the same door as before, only this time Seraph didn't go out with her. He remained by the door, and bowed slightly before closing it again behind her. So already it was over.

There had been no vengeance. There was no scuffle; no confrontation. Stephen was going to go unavenged.

If it wasn't the Oracle's fault, then it wasn't Neo's fault either. And now she just had to find him to find direction. What could she do now? What should she do? Zandra suddenly felt very helpless, very worthless in the fight for humanity. What could she do except fight like the rest – that didn't make her the One. It might have been impressive to defeat Brown and Jones, but now the agents had been replaced. She would be on the same level as everyone else now.

She was back in the tearoom and departed quickly. She didn't want to be reminded of the strange fight she had fought with the man. There was still something that nagged at her about their meeting, though she could not figure out what…

There were a few people on the streets around her. Knowing that the agents could easily find her in a group, she jogged to her exit.

It was only once she had gotten to the hardline that she heard something. A door slammed below her as the phone rang, and only when she picked it up did the agent get to the room. Once he pulled out his gun, he was shooting at nothing. Zandra was lucky.

Kesia was the only one there to take out the needle and undo her fastenings. It was a change that Zandra was glad to see. Not that she was ever truly glad anymore…

"I think Cover'll want to see you," she told her after helping Zandra out of her chair.

"Why?"

"It's more than just the matrix that's changed," she told her with a look of concern.

"Where is he?"

"He's in the cockpit," she told her, "You won't believe what's happening."