Protector of Men Ch 68
"Zandra!" Neo shouted from the banister above, "Zandra!"
She wasn't responding again. Something was wrong – what was it? Below them everything was erupting into chaos. Two lackeys for every Smith – but it wouldn't be that way for long. Neo looked into her code, inspected every fiber of her existence…
There was something going on. Her code was changing. Something had happened to her – perhaps her energy was being sapped by the change being undergone. He marveled at the code: as it flowed down her body, the characters changed rapidly, they even stopped for moments before rushing down her length again. Did the knife poison her? He wouldn't put it past those twins…
Below Shade was assessing his situation. His back was against a fountain in the center of the room, and to his right were five of the Merovingian's men. Only one of them held a revolver, but the others had various weapons that looked rather ominous. To his left was Smith, and further away three more Smiths stood enveloped in a fight with three more lackeys. Shade's adrenaline pumped – if he was going to survive, he'd have to be fast. One to six - hardly good odds.
Cover was somewhat luckier. The nine henchmen that had advanced on him were now being attacked by Smith. Smiths. And that left him quite unoccupied – at least for the moment. He turned to Shade, and inched closer. Perhaps two against six would work…
Time was of the essence, and Zandra was wasting what precious seconds she possessed. "Zandra!" Neo shouted again, quickly losing hope of gaining her attention. Something more would have to be done.
Neo jumped off of the high banister and landed on the platform Zandra was standing on. She looked a little surprised as he landed, but it quickly glazed over into pacifism again.
"Zandra," He said, shaking her shoulders, "Come back."
Something flashed in her eyes, but again it faded. Time was similarly fading; a Smith jumped onto the banister that Neo had previously occupied only seconds before, his jacket flapping as he soared through the air with a guise of rage. They would get their target if he didn't move. No time!, he yelled at himself, searching for the answer. The Smith sailed into the air, heading towards the two. Neo had finally run out of time after thirty-four years of waiting.
"Zandra," he warned, stepping to the side. The Smith was still coming, there was only one thing he could do. Hopefully, it would bring her back into the present. He thrust his hand into her – he stopped her code momentarily, hoping that in doing so the change might stop. Zandra's eyes were wide, she choked for a moment. But only a moment.
Neo pulled back his hand and in one quick movement, kicked her off of the platform and to the side. Smith landed.
Zandra bashed into a pillar and slid to the ground in a heap. She was instantly enraged – why had Neo done that to her?
But at least she was back. And she watched the Smith attack Neo with dismay – wasn't she there to save him? He had just saved her… Zandra grew embarrassed quickly. She looked to Shade and Cover – they weren't doing well. No time! She raged, she had to get them out quickly! Every second is a second wasted…
Alias focused as much as she could on the flood that threatened to kill them. The sentinels were intelligent, she had to give them that, and it was hard going. They kept eluding their fire, kept moving so that shooting one was nearly impossible. Alias was tired, but she wouldn't give up now. It was her chance to save the day. To redeem herself.
"Left!" she shouted to Trim. He moved his aim accordingly, but too slowly. The sentinel got away quickly. They felt another pound on their hull and cringed. Would Kemp get this one?
Kesia was still huddled in her operator's chair literally shaking with fear. She kept hearing the loud clunk of the sentinels preparing to gut their protective covering… kept imagining them coming in, destroying them without a thought…
She lost count at seven. A few minutes ago, one had started to break open the hull – Kesia flew to the edge of the room in terror, but it soon fell dead above her and was gone. When she was brave enough to venture back to take a look at the damage, she was surprised to see an open dent two floors above, a small slit open to the pipeways around them. She went quickly back into her chair and rocked backwards and forwards… please hurry… forwards and backwards…
Something started beeping on Trim's panel, but he ignored it. He was much too busy securing their lives to worry about another sentinel – or whatever it was. But the beeping grew louder. Over in the main deck Kesia's screen buzzed to life; she jumped back at the abrupt sound.
It was Stotte.
"They've come!" She yelled into her headset; no-one answered. She linked the communications and saw Aegir, the legendary captain on the screen. If it were possible, she would be more nervous. But instead she greeted him quickly.
"We're 30,000 away," he told her instantly, "We've got our crew manning the battalions."
Kesia's heart leapt. 30,000? And another crew? Perhaps they weren't doomed after all…
"How much time until you're here?" she asked.
"Only a few minutes," he answered, "We'll get ready for an EMP on your call."
Our call? Stotte's taking orders from us? Kesia was blown away by his… courtesy? But now was not the time to ponder the intricacies of mannerisms. She had to tell Trim.
She got off the communications line quickly and jammed her microphone to her face, hoping that it would amplify her voice.
"Trim!" she shouted again, "Stotte's here!"
Again, no response. She waited a few moments, still vainly hoping he would respond… but no. She'd have to tell him herself. She stared at the screen, reluctant to leave for a second – what if I miss them? She looked closer, but still could not see any of their code. So they were still in there. Still unreachable. Maybe just for one minute…
Trim was startled when Kesia bound into the room, but he didn't take his eyes off the coming sentinels. One came dangerously close to the ship – Purgatory rocked in protest from the intense buffeting by air - but it crashed into the ground at the last second. The ground too shook in protest against the new inhabitant, but it was another threat neutralized. Kesia got down to business.
"Stotte's here," she told him. Trim still did not look at her.
"He says use the EMP when we're ready."
Trim gave a slight nod: that was all Kesia needed to see before she ran back to her operating chair. Only a little while longer.
Things were different now. There was no conscious decision, no realization this time that would free her from the binding chain, the web of lies that always threatened to take over again. Now it came naturally; she didn't even have to think anymore. Not that she was thinking – it was all reactions now. The twins would have been angry that their plan had not worked: the knife that had stabbed her was supposed to stop her code; to essentially make her useless, but obviously something had gone wrong. They wouldn't make their debut again – the agents had made their presence known, and they had no intentions of being deleted that day. Zandra would just have to fend for herself without their 'help'.
She got up from the ground slowly, assessing everyone's situation. She looked up to where she had fallen – no, been ousted from: Neo was currently being occupied by Smith. But it was only one, and he was capable.
Zandra then looked to Cover and Shade again, but now they were nowhere to be found. Instead she saw pockets of people – of programs – fighting an invisible foe. There was a large circle of brawling directly in front of her – Cover and Shade would be in there.
She picked up Neo's sword which still lay next to her and set out. She had a feeling that they didn't have much time left. Every second would have to count.
They didn't turn as she approached. It was easy to start, she figured, but how hard would it be to continue? Only microseconds had passed since she had started her round, and she was already about to make her first kill.
She came up to one of the Merovingian's lackeys on the outside of the circle. Too many, she thought instantly, there must have been at least eleven rogues attacking her crew. But all would be rectified soon. With a quick thrust of Neo's sword she came down on the enemy, slicing open a wound from his neck all the way down his back. Blood spattered onto the ground and he fell, another sword at his bloody side. But before anyone could register her kill, she had picked up the dead program's sword and moved onto the next. This one she killed with a thrust through the side, and another to the neck. He doubled over, his eyes filling with blood. The ground was quickly changing colors: from a deep cherry wood to the dark red of blood. They would have slipped if more time had passed, but it had been only moments. Nine to go.
Only now did they begin to realize their fate.
A/N – thanks for your comments guys, you were right. It is a little monotonous; this'll be the first thing I revise once I'm finished with Rectitude. I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long – there have been multiple fiascos, spanning multiple genres of life. Believe me, it's been an absolutely f***ed up week. And I mean that.
Aqua_Phoenix1 – thanks for your support! I'm already planning ravaged… though it is quite theory laden.
Alocin – sometimes a one-track mind is ok! Yeah… you might see something similar to that soon…
AoD – haha! That's ok, you're just feeling the same thing I am. I'll figure it out soon….
Zuma – By jove, I think you've got it! That sounds a bit right – it does seem to be a bit monotonous. I think I got lost in the final build up to the climax, you know? I guess I tried too hard to make this climax more than Stephen's death, which I thought was pretty powerful. It's almost over though, the monotony will end soon! Haha.
