Protector of Men Ch 58

The restaurant was surprisingly noisy to Zandra; she had expected something more sedate, probably something more private. Shade and Cover were not as surprised, being that they had no idea in the first place of what the meeting may be like. A small French man led them through the rectangular restaurant to a head table at which a man and woman sat. Both looked over Zandra thoroughly before moving onto Shade, then Cover. It was only when Zandra opened her mouth to introduce herself that the man finally spoke.

"Hello there," he greeted in an unmistakably French accent. He spoke each word as if he enjoyed each sound as it passed his lips. A hint of a fake smile spread across his face, and Zandra tried not to grimace. Shade and Cover stood in the background, both having the feeling that this man would probably want to speak with her, the One, rather than them. They would be right.

"I am the Merovingian. And this is my wife, Persephone," he said plainly, gesturing off-handedly towards the woman. Persephone made a barely distinguishable face and looked down. That face was familiar…

"I've heard much of you," he continued, looking them over, observing them.

"The talented Zandra," he said, staring into her eyes. "Que je ferais-il avec votre pour quinze minutes…"(1) he added, looking at each section of her body in turn. Zandra said nothing, but held his gaze. Finally the woman next to him sighed loudly, and he consequently broke his concentration, looked away. His jaw clenched unconsciously.

"Unfortunately," he sighed, "I must admit that I have not heard of you two." He made another rough gesture, this time to Cover and Shade. They acted as if he hadn't said anything, but Zandra could hear sniggering in the background. She turned, distracted by the noise, to see who was the source of the sound. Two albino men – surely they couldn't be human, clad in all white and dreadlocks, were suddenly quiet. One nodded at Zandra and licked his teeth provocatively, the other simply stared. Zandra shuddered and turned back to the Merovingian.

"Won't you sit down?" he asked, eyes wide with questioning. Zandra made no movement, and therefore neither did Cover, nor Shade. The Merovingian gave up after a few seconds with a sigh.

"But of course, we have more important things to do, do we not?"

Zandra was quiet.

"And importance insinuates timeliness," he continued, "And then where are we, but left running from one importance to the next - regardless of its true value, am I right?"

Zandra was still quiet.

"Let's get to business," he suddenly said, clasping his hands together and looking from one rebel to the next as if to ask, 'who's up?'

"You have someone we've been looking for," Zandra told him firmly. The man made a face.

"You think." He paused, then waved his hand in dismissal. "No," he told them, "You are only here because you are rebellious." He paused again. "You don't know why you are here."

He suddenly laughed: a long, hearty laugh that made Zandra cringe. "Do you even know," he asked with a devious smile, "Who you are fighting for?"

"Zandra is here for a reason," Cover said, his face stony and unemotional. The Merovingian made a face and turned back to Zandra.

"My collection has become rather extensive," he said quietly, a quick glance at the two twins behind Zandra and her following, "But still that does not change the fact that you are here on a non sequitur, a misinterpretation of sorts..."

"You have him," Zandra quipped, her voice strong. She looked at Persephone; a light flashed on the woman's eyes for a moment before she looked back down at the table.

"Please," he sighed, leaning back, "I have many. As many as I can." He finished with an uncaring wave of his wrist and a flutter of his cold piercing eyes. A man came up and refilled his wine glass, leaving promptly after his job was finished.

"Mercí, vous le serviteur sans valeur "(2) he belatedly answered, wafting the aroma of wine to his face. He smiled and closed his eyes for a moment; Zandra noticed Persephone rolling her eyes.

"So good," he whispered, and suddenly snapped back to attention.

"Of course," he coughed, "It is only a contrivance. But so much of all of this is, is it not?"

Zandra was quiet a moment before replying.

"Reality is based on our perception of it," she answered. The Merovingian narrowed his eyes at her.

"No. Perception is based in reality," he said quickly, taking a sip of his wine. "And that makes you wrong in coming here." Persephone suddenly got up from her chair.

"I am sorry, my dear," she said to the ground, "But I must attend to things."

The Merovingian looked at her incredulously, but his expression suddenly melted to nothing. "Alright, Ma cherie," (3) he replied, "I will be awaiting your return."

She smiled wanly and left soon after. Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"So you won't help us?"

"No. Absolutely no. You can be on your way then," he said, sitting back in his chair and refusing to look at any of the rebels. Zandra didn't move, and the Merovingian's eyes turned angry. He made a shooing gesture, and then didn't look at them again. He continued to sip at his wine, looking everywhere but at them. Even as she turned to leave she could hear him mutter under his breath in French. Zandra led them out.

"Tell the conjurer to watch her back," he shouted over the din of customers, "There are no second chances this time."

Zandra did not acknowledge his last message. They walked back through the restaurant in silence, not noticing the crowd of people – no, programs? – following them out of the large room and to the elevator. Zandra noticed the number 101 on the wall next to the elevator doors. Three. Just like them. Zandra heard the high pitched beep and walked into the elevator, Cover and Shade following quietly behind. Zandra was surprised to see the two twins suddenly at the elevator door.

"Leaving so soon?" one asked, leaning close to Zandra, smelling her clothing, her hair. Let the doors close… she pleaded.

"We'll miss you," the other whispered, looking her over slowly. They continued to hover at the door as it closed, and only then did Zandra breathe a sigh of weariness and fear. Shade was trying to calm himself down behind her.

"To the Chateau?" Cover asked, not looking at Zandra. She sighed again. The elevator started its descent.

"If we have no choice," Zandra answered. Neo was there, she knew it. The Merovingian wouldn't have spoken to her like that if he wasn't. But if Neo was being imprisoned, how would they get to him? Certainly he couldn't be held in the restaurant, it would be too much of a liability. She doubted that the building had ordinary coding to it; Neo would have gone somewhere with security if he truly went willingly, like the message had said. Zandra guessed that the restaurant led to something more. Perhaps there were portals, like Neo had employed for his own safety that led to more secure places in the matrix. Perhaps…

"The Chateau is here," she whispered to herself. Cover and Shade stared at her for a moment, Zandra not paying attention. They let her continue to think, and everything was soon silent again.

"Oh, the things I'd do with you in fifteen minutes…" "Thanks, you worthless servant!" "Alright, my love,"