Sorry for the wait and thanks to Wolfie for the review.

Chapter 3: Evaluation

Fear's Perspective

"So um, refresh my memory, what was his name?"

I wasn't really surprised that he didn't remember his name, truth be told I was a little surprised that he remembered that Reclamation was male.

"Reclamation sir." I replied, making a careful effort not to show anything in my voice other then nonchalance. Showing any other emotion when dealing with the Merovingian could be dangerous. Look too happy, sad, angry, bored, resentful, thirsty, and he might decide that his minions were getting too uppity and dispose of the potential troublemaker. It had happened before.

"Reclamation yes, interesting name, anyway tell me why exactly they killed him."

"The best I can tell, it happened when he insulted one of them, or was about to, they killed him halfway through his sentence."

"Temperamental wouldn't you say?" He said to Persephone, who as always looked like she was holding back the urge to lunge at the Merovingian with a meat cleaver. She muttered something noncommittal, I didn't hear what exactly.

I never could figure her out, for centuries she had been by the Merovingian's side and with each passing day here soul seemed to die a little more. All she ever seemed to do was sit next to him and stare at things. Well, that's all I knew her to do, what she did in her own time was a mystery. Still, if I were her, I probably would have put a gun to my head several hundred years ago.

"So tell me," the Merovingian's words caused my wandering mind to snap back to attention, "Why is it that they didn't kill you. I would have thought that they'd take the opportunity to dispatch as many of us as possible."

'Us', he always used that word. The image of a single organism with him as the monstrously vain head.

"I'm not sure sir. I wasn't as," I paused, searching for the right word, "Flamboyant as Reclamation was. I would guess that I didn't provoke them enough to make them want to kill me."

"And didn't you think to strike at them? Your partner lying dead, our enemies revelling in a victory over us, a blow against me? You didn't think to defend our reputation? I doubt I need to tell you how effective a tool that is."

Oh yes Now why didn't do that?. Why didn't I take on five armed programs, all of whom undoubtedly adept in combat and die in the process so as to defend your ego you worthless prick?

I didn't say that. God knows I wanted to.

"If I had fought them sir, I would have died," I said matter-of-factly, my composure was becoming harder to maintain, but not impossible. "There were too many of them, and they were easily as good as any of us."

This statement was accompanied with a gesture at the two Uzi wielding guards who flanked me.

"You know that for certain do you?"

"Yes sir. I felt it was better to wait so that we could hunt them down later with suitable numbers."

"I see. Did you deliver any warnings about the fate that will now befall them?"

"Yes sir I did, per your instructions." I'm not sure why saying 'your instructions' made me feel better. It didn't much matter, me following orders wouldn't factor much into his decision. If anything I may have hurt my chances of survival. Since he is of course the all knowing, infallible Merovingian, if a plan of his failed it was because someone else failed him.

"And they didn't seem too disturbed by this. Are you sure that you delivered the message in a suitable fashion?"

I narrowly avoided grinning at the memory, my tone of voice had been as daunting as a sparrow.

"Yes sir, I think the way we delivered the message was suitable. They seemed to be under the impression that they were in a position to resist us."

"I find that hard to believe," he said with a frown. Oh shit. "All exiles know of our strength, a strength that surpasses the creators and operators of this virtual farm. Surely they had to know that they couldn't oppose my will."

"Overconfidence blinds logic sir." I said quickly, praying that he wouldn't think I was patronising him, "If they are, as I believe they are, borderline psychotic fools with at least one fatality each to their credit, they may have come to the conclusion that they are invincible. I have seen this before."

"As have I." He said with a glare. I said nothing.

For a while after that he just stood there and stared at me, occasionally taking a sip from the doubtlessly highly expensive Champaign on the table. I remained still, forcing myself to project the image of calm. Maybe in retrospect it would have been better to look a little nervous, I certainly felt nervous, and an image of feeble inferiority might make me seem less of a potential renegade.

Or it may have just made me seem nauseating and made him want to kill me all the more. This wasn't a predictable situation.

"One last question," he said, his eyes boring into mine, "In your opinion, is Reclamation's untimely demise any great loss to us?

"No sir, the kid was an idiot, through and through, if he'd listened to me instead of the testosterone filled voices in his head then he'd probably still be alive."

Thank God he found that funny. After laughing for two or three seconds he returned to his staring. Maybe he was hoping to find some trace of fear in my expression.

"Very well," he said finally, "You may leave."

"Thank you sir." I said, now trying to hide the relief in my voice. (This was more a matter of pride then survival). With that I turned and made my way out of the door.

When I felt that I was sufficiently far away from the Merovingian, and everyone else for that matter, I let out a huge sigh of relief and collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. I remained motionless for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and the cool air.

So that was that, I was officially off the endangered list and all we had to do now was hunt down another group of defiant exiles.

A part of me that refused to die started to feel sorry for them, after all they were people with ordinary, happy lives and we had waltzed in and shattered them, and they would pay for wanting to be free. It was the same thing that had happened God only knows how many times before; the strong dominating the weak. Age old story, fact of life, and yet even though I would help create one more example of this rule, and probably enjoy myself whilst doing so, part of me, the part of the young exile blinded by childish concepts of honour, felt sorry for them.

Just push it down where it belongs, I told myself, You can't save them, and you don't want to.

"Still alive then?" Looking up I saw Kyla standing above me, smiling at my obvious relief which doubtlessly preceded terror.

"Still alive I confirmed."

"I guess I owe Salient a lunch," she said, sitting herself down next to me, "What was it like?"

"Not as bad as I thought it would be," I replied truthfully, "Pretty standard questions, I didn't have to make too much up and he wasn't in the homicidal mood by the looks of things."

Kyla pulled a slightly crumpled cigarette packet from her pocket and offered me one, I refused. She shook one from the packet, lit it and soon smoke poured from the end of the tube. I watched as it twisted within itself as it slowly dissipated into the air. In my current frame of mind, the simple beauty of it seemed somewhat relaxing. The smell however was far from it. I edged to my left slightly, trying to get away from it. Kyla edged up next to me and unleashed another wave of odorous gas into the air.

"So we're going exile hunting I take it?" She said after a few more moments of silence.

"I'd guess so, I'd better dig the net out of the attic."

She laughed, sort of. It was a nice thing to hear.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she asked, making no attempt to hide the boredom in her voice, "Staring at the walls can't be much fun."

"You're right, it isn't." I said, pushing myself to my feet. She did the same a few moments later. Discarding her cigarette on the elaborate marble floor, (in a section of the building free from any bothersome security cameras. The Merovingian doesn't take too kindly to littering either), we made our way to the exit.

To be continued.