Protector of Men Ch 8_

"Zandra," Cover called out after they had finally landed in Zion, "Medicals will want to see you."

Zandra sighed and approached the cockpit. "Cover, I'm fine. I have to talk to Emory."

Cover merely stared at her, then nodded. Zandra watched as he turned off the ship power supply while Trim stalked out of the cockpit. Kesia smiled at Zandra, which made her cringe.

Ever since the sentinel attack, the crew had been fawning over her. None of them knew what was wrong with her, and therefore they were being overly caring around her. It was unnecessary – though they had no idea, Zandra knew that her problem was not physical. They frequently asked her how she was doing and with each following question, she touchier about it. Kesia had sympathized with her and later apologized for her intrusion. It too was unnecessary.

There were two people waiting outside Libertas as they deboarded. Zandra had a feeling they were for her.

"We wanted to make sure that Zandra was alright – see if you needed any assistance," one said, arms crossed. Zandra waved them off and picked up her bags.

"I'm fine," she asserted, "I don't need anything." The two men soon left, and Zandra started to make her way up to her room. Shade grabbed her shoulder tenderly before she got very far.

"Zandra," he said, "At least stay with me. Something could happen again…"

She wanted to dismiss him equally as off-handed, but something held her back. Perhaps staying with him would make the others leave her alone… if she made it sound like she was admitting her weakness, maybe they would accept it and leave her be. She agreed, but told Shade that she had to find Emory before turning in. He nodded, then an unsure smile, and he left.

Emory wasn't answering his door.

"Emory, open up," she called, banging on the metal. There was still no answer. "It's Zandra, come out!"

He still did not come, and she was angry. There were too many questions and so far, Emory had only worsened her uncertainty. Something was going on that he wasn't telling her about.

Her banging was suddenly interrupted by a lack of door. Emory peered through a small crack in the now open portal and eyed her untrustingly.

"Emory. We have to talk."

"I'm sorry Zandra," he said, remaining behind his door, "I don't have time… I'm very busy…"

Zandra put a hand on the door and opened it wider.

"Emory, I need to know. What is going on?"

She could feel him trying to close the door, but she pushed harder and he wasn't able to move it closed again. Eventually he sighed and let her in, eyes downcast in a state of obedience.

"There's a lot you haven't told me," she said, "Isn't there."

Emory did nothing.

"You have to tell me," she said loudly, "I have to know what's going on."

Emory sighed again.

"There's a lot," he said.

"Good," she answered.

And he proceeded to tell her almost everything. He told her why he decided not to be a Councilor. He told her the secret that even Neo did not know completely, and thus was the reason he quit. He essentially told her that the reason he cut himself off from society was to protect the last dregs of human resistance from the truth:

The machines built Zion.

Pure and simple: they created Zion for complete control. As long as there was a first person, there was someone that could keep the secret. And Emory was the first person to be taken out of the matrix – so the secret was with him.

Which meant not only the machines knew what they were doing but they could destroy Zion at any time. Zandra asked if they could have attacked earlier, but Emory didn't have an answer. The impending attack now seemed irrelevant; the machines could kill them any time – the coming battle was only a front. Right?

"Then what am I supposed to do?" she asked him, palms up. "I have no purpose."

He assured her that she did – she was their leader, and as long as she kept fighting, the rest would continue as well.

"But the machines have already won!" she exclaimed, "We won't have a chance."

"Not necessarily," Emory countered, now becoming brighter, "It's been 33 years since they created Zion. There are many things we created without their knowledge.

"But that's not for you to worry about," he said, suddenly ushering her out the door, "Your place is in the matrix." Again he was at the door, she outside. "You know everything I know," he told her with a glance to the left and right, "Guard it well."

"But Emory," she called, "There's more!" He stopped the door right before closing, and again his head peeked through a small crack.

"I don't know what's happening to me, but I can feel them," she said, "I can see the sentinels."

Though she felt embarrassed to say it, she had to. It was another question that needed answering and as far as she knew, it could be another demonstration of the One – or something that had been done to her. Emory opened the door again, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What?" he asked, moving closer to her.

"I don't know – I'm not sure – but something happened in Libertas and I saw a sentinel. And then it… well it died. That's supposed to happen?"

Emory shook his head slowly, almost alarmed by her claim.

"I can't say I've heard it before, Zandra, but I also can't say I'm surprised. That may be our claim to the real world – and that's all the truth I have for you."

She waited for more, but there was none. Emory nodded and closed the door with a slow click. Their conversation was over – yet again in less than ten minutes.

But instead of feeling satisfied, she felt empty. The future of Zion wasn't in her hands – it was in the hands of the very creatures – machines – she was attempting to keep it from. Again, they were in control. Even in the real world.

And what was her job? Only to stay in the Matrix, only to keep unplugging. She was quiet when she came back to Shade's room, and they went to bed exchanging few words.

Kesia was at the door early the next morning. Zandra shoved at Shade to open it for her, but he wouldn't get up. Instead Zandra trudged her way to the door, attempting to part her falling hair without losing her balance.

"Hi Zandra," Kesia greeted, "If you want to see Alias, I'm going to visit her now. Shade can come, too."

Zandra rubbed her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be out in a minute."

She closed the door again, and went back to her bed.

"Shade, get up. We're going to see Alias." He sighed, but got up and pulled on a new pair of pants and a shirt. In a few seconds they were decent enough for a visit, and left the room for the throws of Zion. Kesia, to Zandra and Shade's surprise, didn't ask about them bunking together.

Alias was in a bar on a floor of Zion Zandra had never been on before. TV screens invaded the room's quiet space and an old movie from the Matrix was playing. Zandra couldn't remember what it was.

She was still in her wheelchair, but she definitely looked different. She seemed healthier – her hair was up, she was wearing 'normal' clothes, but she still acted the same.

"Still working hard," she said as they approached, a cynical smile creeping across her face. Kesia and Zandra sat at the table next to her, but Shade went off to get something for them to drink.

"How have you been?" Zandra asked, "We've missed you on Libertas." Alias rolled her eyes.

"What was I going to do there?" she asked in return, but didn't wait for an answer. "I'm shitting around here letting these 'scientists' try and fix me up so I can go back in."

"You're going through with it?" Kesia asked. It seemed like she was startled at her own question, because she was suddenly silent again.

"It would have been done earlier," she answered, "Except Trim did a lame-ass job on my surgery and fucked up my nerve work. Now they've gotta figure out how in the hell they can fix that, too."

They were quiet for a moment, but Alias broke the silence again.

"I've been keeping myself busy with Zion," she said, "If there's gonna be a battle we have to be prepared."

"There's going to be a battle in Zion?" Shade asked, bringing three drinks with him. Alias waited to answer while he went back for a fourth.

"I would assume so," she answered stiffly, the condescending tone apparent. "Why else would they have implemented all these precautions?"

Shade nodded thoughtfully; tactfully ignoring her insinuating looks. Zandra looked into her cup and frowned, then asked Shade what it was.

"Oh," he laughed, rolling his eyes, "It's a lighter. It's good."

He laughed again. "I keep forgetting you're the newbie," he commented, "I want to think you've been with us forever – but it's only been like two months."

Zandra smiled, and Kesia laughed politely. Alias, unnoticed, was quiet.

"Well," she said after a moment, "Thanks so much for the drink, but I'll have to pass." She rolled herself away from the table and mock saluted. "I'm off for a defense review, and then a surgery prep. Have fun, kids."

And Alias left them.

A/N – hello!

Alocin – Davidson is in North Carolina, about 30 miles from Charlotte. Oh, I was at the White House on Dec 6th, so it was a little while ago. I don't think we were on TV, save for the interviews the local news did before and after…

Zuma – Kesia I found on the internet as like some middle-eastern name or something, but I think it means "From the red earth". Or maybe that's Akamu. I don't know. Akamu is a character in my original fiction on fp.net – fun stuff. I always get confused between like Kesia and this one girl Inara. They're pretty similar. Anyway!