I had to wait out Avon for several days before he came to my office demanding higher security clearance. I had attached a memo to the XTC32 report, reminding the researchers that it was a highly classified document and sharing the document with unauthorized personnel would result in Intelligence being notified and immediate transfer back to Zion. They had all discovered the fun to be had inside the Matrix within a secure facility. No one was cooperating with him.
He barged in without knocking while I was cleaning my sidearm and enjoying a good gossip with Lisa and Anne about the many unhappy occurrences in their new Section. I let him rant and rave without responding while I continued my conversation with them.
*You wouldn't believe what he's been doing, * Lisa was saying, *He's transferred several key people back to Zion for no apparent reason and the rest of us are getting nervous.*
"I need that clearance. I want access to that report and I want it now."
Anne agreed, *No work is getting done, we spend all of our time speculating about who is getting the chop next or reading his stupid memos. He's changing all of our procedures on a daily basis. *
"As I am the senior expert on the Agent program, you have no right to withhold that data from me."
Lisa complained, *He's so smooth and slick, but he knows nothing about managing scientists. The whole project is going in to the toilet thanks to him. *
Avon had worked himself into a froth, "That report is critical to this project. If I don't have that information to analyze, we might as well all go back to Zion."
I replied to Lisa and Anne first, *Guys, lets do lunch today, I want to get the details on this before I take action. I didn't spend all these years building up the Centre to have some jackass destroy one entire Section in a few days. It's time he realized that he's only supposed to be directing the research, he's not authorized to make any changes without certain approval. *
"Avon, it surprises me to hear you say how critical this report is, when just the other day, you indicated that it had no value."
*OK, come have lunch here, he's out at meetings most of the day and we can sit in the conference room and play loud music, * Anne suggested.
Avon took the offensive, "Considering how poor the summary was, it's not surprising I found it of no use for our purposes."
Lisa agreed, *And don't chicken out and sneak in through one of your doors. * They both know that you can get me to do almost anything if you call me 'chicken'.
"Let me get this straight, Avon. You haven't seen the report, which is highly classified, yet you are certain that the summary is poor. Your logic escapes me."
*Sounds good, I've got to come over there and meet with those damned bureaucrats at the Shop, I really wish I'd never agreed to move into their building. Half the offices still aren't finished, and at this rate they'll never be. I wish I'd never agreed to follow through with this part of the transition. I should have dumped in your new boss's lap. We'll do lunch afterwards. I'll be brave and come in through the front door. I've got to go now, I'm about to kill Avon. *
Avon tried to be conciliatory, "It was obviously the first time you summarized one of our reports, it was a good attempt, for a non-scientific amateur."
I finished cleaning my gun and reloaded it before sliding it back in to the holster. "Avon, you really need to pay more attention to the reports you receive. I've been summarizing those reports since long before you were unplugged. Don't you ever read the revision control documents that come attached to them?"
He shrugged, "I don't like wasting my time. Just give me the access so I can determine what there is to be learned from this operative's report." He stood up and walked out.
I logged the conversation in his personnel file. I forwarded his file to Intelligence for the clearance to be processed. I could have given him the access in a few minutes. However, if he wasn't going to ask me politely, or at least civilly, I'd let it go through the proper channels and he could wait for it.
I looked up at the clock, almost time for lunch, and then a delightful afternoon of bureaucratic nonsense. I sighed, at least the rent was cheap and they were willing to pay for the rather extensive renovations required to bring the existing lab spaces up to my stringent specifications.
I strode briskly out the front door and walked over to the Matrix Research Section's new location. I passed one of the white-coated Shop staffers and as usual, nodded a greeting without looking in his direction. I was not looking forward to meeting with his colleagues and I was totally oblivious of the man wearing a lab coat over his brown suit who stood watching as I walked away.
I felt better after the meeting. Fortunately, the Shop had hired some normal people to front for them and they were just plain old bureaucrats, and we spent a pleasant hour facilitating, projecting, reviewing the meeting's objectives, and drawing flow charts.
I felt worse after hearing all that Lisa and Anne had told me. The new boss, Section Chief Fitzgerald was systematically destroying the staff and the morale of the entire Section. He was not native to Intelligence as I was, or Scientific, but had been transferred in to leverage his supposed managerial skills. Unlike the Agent Section, Matrix didn't require a hands-on scientific researcher to lead it, just a good manager/administrator. All the procedures were already in place from my own tenure. All he had to do was follow them.
I promised to review the situation with my boss, and requested that any further memos be forwarded directly to me. Why are reorganizations such a hassle? It could be worse, the ship was taking on water, but the band hadn't started playing 'Nearer My God to Thee' yet.
After lunch, another meeting, this time an ugly session with the General Contractors, reviewing conflicting specifications and status reports. I left the meeting and went over the half-finished area to see whether or not the actual progress was in line with the reports I'd just received. . The construction of the last group of new offices and labs was proceeding surprisingly quickly for government work. The demolition was complete and they were now framing in walls and doorways.
I found the office that would have been mine had I not encountered an Agent while out blowing off steam so many weeks before. It had a really great view of the woods and hills beyond, and it annoyed me that instead I was stuck in my same crummy office looking out over the parking lots.
My phone rang, Jones had left me another voice mail asking me to return his call. I was not in the mood to talk to any Agents, so I put the phone back into my pocket and leaned against the wall looking out. I never heard the sound of his shiny loafers approaching over the whine of power tools and the curses of the workmen. He startled me badly and when I took a step away from him, I tripped over some construction debris and nearly fell. His hand shot out and he caught me around the waist, pulling me against him and steadying me until I got my footing. He was minus the shades and the lab coat, but horribly familiar.
I kept my face blank and thanked him politely, pushing myself away from him to fastidiously brush away some invisible plaster dust. I slowly turned and walked out the hole in the wall where a door would someday be. I put my hand inside my suit jacket and wrapped my fingers around the handgrip of my sidearm. I couldn't hear his footsteps behind me, I couldn't even hear the powertools at work over the sound of the blood pumping in my ears. Down the stairs, greet the workmen, be cool. Out the front door, past the security guard, be cool.
I didn't risk a glance behind me as I started to walk around towards the side of the building. Once I crossed the lawn to my own building I'd be safe. I didn't make it. There he was, standing there about 20 yards from me, blocking my path. He had come for me.
I wasn't ready to face my deliverance just yet. I pantomimed having forgotten something and I turned around casually and went back into the building. I looked back once I was inside, he was standing at the doors looking in. I nodded to the security guard and went back up to Lisa and Anne's office area. I looked up at the roster and noted that with the boss out at meetings, everyone else had gone back outside as well. Only Lisa and Anne were still inside. I was glad they had stuck around after lunch.
Lisa and Anne were loitering in Lisa's office. Lisa as usual was tipped back in her chair, high-heeled pumps resting on her desktop. Anne took one look at my face and ushered me to a chair. There was a thud as Lisa jumped up from her chair, knocking it over.
I took a long, shaky breath and said one word, "Evacuate."
Lisa and Anne looked at each other for a long moment and then back at her. "What?" they chorused. "What's happened? You look as if you'd seen a ghost."
I leapt to my feet, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. We've got to get out of here, he'll kill us all."
Anne pushed me back down into the chair. I buried my face in my hands and groaned, "Damn, damn, damn."
Lisa inquired, "What happened? What did you see that frightened you so terribly?"
"I'll show you, Lisa, scoot over and let me drive." I punched up the exterior security camera from the front of the building and ran the video feed back a few minutes. After a little backing and filling I finally got the image I was looking for. Clear and crisp and utterly recognizable, Agent Brown stood looking towards the camera, a slightly confused look on his face.
Lisa and Anne gaped at the image in horror. "Where the bloody hell did he come from?" screeched Lisa.
"I passed him as I was walking over here. He was wearing one of those damned lab coats and I assumed he was Shop, so I just walked by and nodded without looking at him." I smacked myself in the forehead for being an idiot.
"I saw him again upstairs when I was looking over the incomplete areas of the offices. He came up right behind me and I didn't hear him over the damned construction noise."
I stopped berating myself and ordered the offices shut down for the rest of the day, Lisa and Anne logged out and I used a door to return to my own building. Call me chicken if you will, but I was not about to risk another encounter with Agent Brown.
I sat at my desk and checked my inbox, which was filled to capacity with email. "You've got Mail!" a male voice informed me. There was a reply from AB addressed to the CHEATMASTER. I double-clicked the subject line and smiled, anticipating further hostilities-nothing better than a good flame war to get the blood pumping, "Shit."
The message was brief: "I'm sorry to bother you but I just wanted to get your attention."
I hit "reply" and stared at the monitor for a while before replying, "OK, you've got my attention, what do you want with it, you sorry bastard?" "Screw you," I said out loud to my monitor before clicking the "send" button.
I filed my report of my sudden encounter with Agent Brown and logged out of the Matrix. I had to review the situation with the other Section with the Boss and get a certain other Section Chief jerked up short before he sank us under the weight of his own incompetence.
Later that night, Lisa and Anne came over to my quarters in the real world to hang out. I checked my email and sure enough there was a reply from my new buddy AB. I read it to Anne and Lisa, "I want your attention because there is something special about you that calls to me. Will you ever talk to me?"
Lisa had hysterics, "God, what a loser. 'something special about you that calls to me,' that is so pathetic."
Anne howled, "I'm sorry, your call has reached a number that is not in service. Please piss off and don't call this number again."
Lisa yelped, "Hey, lets see if he's online, maybe we can get him to IM and we can all mess with his mind."
A quick search of the service showed that AB was indeed logged on. Lisa sent him an IM.
CHEATMASTER: So, what do you want to talk about? AB: At last, you speak to me. CHEATMASTER: I spoke to you the other night, right before I struck you out.
I kicked him off the service and we exchanged high-fives. I changed my preferences so that any emails he sent me would be bounced back to him with a rude message from the service. It might be unrelated, but I wasn't about to take any chances with anyone who called himself AB. After all, A is for Agent and B is for Brown.
The three of us proceeded to get very drunk. It was Friday night, I couldn't go to our usual club anymore, and the secure club frequented by the field operatives was only open on Saturday.
WHY IS THERE A PAC-MAN MACHINE IN MY CONFERENCE ROOM?
Lovely, Monday morning. Little did I know I'd spend the rest of the morning consolidating my position with idiots. I logged in to the Matrix before the rest of tbe analysis team, I wanted to get a headstart on my day. I caught up with my e-mail, noting that Avon had finally been cleared for security access. I forwarded him a copy of the XTC32 report with a note stating that he would be expected to be prepared for this afternoon's team meeting.
Section Chief Fitzgerald had left a rather nasty voice mail message for me, and there were several more from Agent Jones. I decided to call him back and find out what he wanted. He picked up on the first ring.
"Morning Jones, turn off your radio."
"Why did you not return my calls before this?" He sounded somewhat impatient.
"Settle down, Jones, don't soil your drawers."
"What? Is that another of your human insults?"
"Never mind. I haven't been inside the Matrix since I had a run-in with your colleague on Friday."
He sighed. Another bad habit of mine he had picked up. I wondered idly if was going to start rolling his eyes at me, too. "I've been trying to warn you. Brown's data storage was damaged, but they restored some of it from a backup so he 'remembers' now where he first encountered you."
"I figured as much based on where I encountered him. I was lucky. He just stood there and stared at me. I'll be a lot more careful going forward. Next time, I might not be so lucky."
"He knows your email address. He has reported that the messages he has been sending are now being returned by the system instead of reaching you."
I smirked, Agents really aren't as smart as they think they are. "So, that answers that question, he is AB. I added him to my block list. The messages that I was getting were totally weirding me out. I don't think he's quite right 'in the head' after what I did to him."
"I have noticed a difference in his behavior. He has allocated far more resources than is normal procedure in his search for you. When I question him about it, he just informs me that you are the woman he is looking for."
"My bad, in other words. Something about what I said to him combined with what I did to him seems to have screwed him up a bit, and made him obsessed with looking for me. I'd much rather he just killed me outright instead of devoting all this time to freaking me out first. He's such an asshole." I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn't just have let his host die and taken my chances with Jones. No, my instincts definitely had agreed with the vote of the committee.
Jones sighed again, "Just when things had settled down after Smith's demise. The last thing we need is another rogue Agent."
I frowned, "The change is disturbing. From the information I have available, Brown's behavior has always been very professional and very correct. Smith gave every indication of having enjoyed making people suffer. You yourself aren't exactly behaving like a model example of your kind. Otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here talking like this."
"You are correct. I am wondering if this continued exposure to humanity in this human-based reality is causing some sort of corruption to our programming."
"Anything's possible in the Matrix." I looked at my watch, the staff should be arriving soon to plague me, "I've got to get to work, man."
"Are you planning on taking the boat out anytime soon?" he inquired casually.
I grinned, "Actually, my calendar's rather full this week."
"Oh," he actually sounded disappointed, "I hoped that we could continue the friendship lessons."
Avon barged in at that moment. "Hang on a minute, I've got company." I glared at my visitor, "What?" I snapped.
He looked belligerent, "I have decided to reschedule this afternoon's meeting until later in the week. I have only just now received XTC32's report for analysis and I am not prepared."
"That's your own fault. If you had behaved like a civil human being instead a spoiled child, you would have had the access five minutes after you asked politely for it. Everyone else on the team is prepared, you have until 3:00 to be prepared as well. I'm curious, though. What makes you think you have the authority to reschedule a meeting that I call?" Sometimes I like to not only stick the blade in, but give it a twist as well.
"I know more about that program than anyone else. It is time you realized that and got out of my way and let me do my job. You can sit in on MY meetings, but you need to keep your mouth shut and stop trying to throw your weight around."
"That's quite enough. I am well aware of your qualifications and experience. I am also well aware of my own, which clearly indicate that I am the senior expert on the application in question. However," I indicated the phone in my hand, "this is not an appropriate time to discuss this issue. We will open the meeting with that topic. I cannot have you constantly attempting to override my authority. Just show up at 3:00 ready to review the report."
He stomped out and I went back to my call, "He is such an asshole. I think that a trip to the Marina might be a good thing before this afternoon's meeting. Otherwise I'm going to shoot him."
Jones chuckled, "I'm sure I can help take your mind off of it for a while."
"Hmmm." A rather slutty grin spread across my face at the thought how he would do that, "You know, I think I'll take you up on your offer this time. That might be just what the doctor ordered. I'll meet you at the boat at noon."
"Agreed."
I hung up, and leaned back in my chair. Avon could rant and rave all he wanted, it takes a lot more than analyzing reports and developing statistics to be an expert on the Agent program.
My phone rang, it was Section Chief Fitzgerald and he sounded quite upset, "I can't believe you did this to me."
"What are you referring to, Fitzgerald?" my voice dripped honey into his ear while I dialed up the boss and discreetly conferenced him in.
"I've made some improvements around here, tightened up the rules and cut out the fat, and you complain to the boss about it. Now I have to submit any changes I want to make to him for approval. How dare you undermine my position? I know it was those two cronies of yours who went crying to you."
"Section Chief Fitzgerald, you are the only person who has come crying to me. I was alerted to some serious issues in your Section that had potential ramifications within mine and I did what was necessary to repair the damage you have caused and prevent further damage. I do not understand why you felt it necessary to make the changes you did."
He shouted into the phone, "Because it's MY Section and I don't like the way things were being run around here. Your administration was lax, your procedures were unnecessary, and I do not believe that your way is an effective way to run a department. I do not appreciate your meddling and I will not tolerate it in the future."
What is this, tantrum day? "Fitzgerald, I'm not going to argue with you. You were brought in from Central Admin for this position, which was probably a terrible mistake, but you came highly recommended. You are no longer working in CA, those rules no longer apply. You were hired to keep that desk warm and go to meetings and keep information flowing between Scientific and Intelligence. The Section was staffed and procedures were in place to ensure that it would run pretty much by itself in order to compensate for your lack of scientific and intelligence experience."
"Who do you think you are talking to me like this? I'll have you up before the review committee for this. And I'm transferring all of your spies elsewhere."
Jesus, "Mr. Fitzgerald, you need to stop reminding yourself of your place in the org chart. Welcome to Intelligence, we don't have follow org charts. They are just for show. Internally, things are a bit more murky than that. You can confirm this with the boss if you wish, but it's time you realized that you are not as high up on the food chain as you think you are. You are not autonomous, and you will no longer be allowed to make any further changes regarding the administration of the Section. That includes the personnel."
He started making disparaging remarks about my parenthood, which really had little effect. I was grown and harvested, same as he was. The boss finally intervened.
"FITZGERALD!" he bellowed into the phone. "You will stop this at once. You knew the roles and responsibilities of your position before it was assigned to you. Because of your fondness for titles and the org chart, I'm going to make a change to both, effective immediately. You are now the Deputy Section Chief. You will perform the job outlined to you, and you will submit all of your change requests to Phoenix. She has spent the last ten years developing that department into one of the best run in our entire organization and you will not jeopardize it because of your ego. It is too critical to humanity's eventual triumph over the machines. And if you cause one more issue, you can go back to Internal Audit under a cloud."
"Yes, sir." The boss hung up and I hung up on Fitzgerald. I called the Harbormaster to let him know I was coming and entered his office a few minutes later. I wanted to get to the boat early and have some lunch before Jones showed up, I had a feeling I'd need the extra energy.
I was in the galley tidying up when Jones arrived. I walked up to him, grabbed him by his tie and dragged him down the hall. I pushed him into the bedroom and kicked the door shut. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me roughly.
I responded in kind, digging my nails into his muscular arms and moaning in my eagerness for him. I struggled out of his arms and started to undress him. When I got to his radio, I rather ostentatiously turned it off before dropping it on the floor with his clothes and his weapons. In moments he stood naked before me and I stepped back to admire him while I removed my own clothes and my weapon and joined him in nakedness.
All my stress over the day's political infighting was forgotten as I swept my eyes over his magnificent form. His powerful shoulders, six-pack abs and muscular legs were exactly what my frazzled nerves needed. I stepped forward and ran one manicured fingernail down the line of his neck, then followed it with my lips.
His skin was exquisitely smooth and silky, with not a single hair to mar the expanse of his chest, his belly or his pubic area. The distinctive scent of his body was intoxicating as I explored him boldly. I thought of taking him in my mouth but remembered that I could give him no pleasure by doing it, so I stood up and held out my arms to him.
He picked me up and crushed me against his chest as he carried me over to the bed. I felt his fingers tangling in my hair and I gasped in pleasure at his touch. He tried to lay me down on the bed, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and refused to let go of him. We fell on the bed in a tangle of interlaced bodies instead.
I was on fire with lust for him as he pleasured me first with his hands and again with his lips and tongue. I orgasmed endlessly, growing hoarse as I shouted his name over and over. At last he mounted me, impaling me as I wrapped my legs around his hips and thrust against him. When my climax came, I screamed his name one last time and went completely limp.
I regained my senses some time later. Jones was lying on his side next to me and I was curled up in his arms, spoon fashion. I rolled over towards him and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face against his shoulder.
"I thought you preferred not to cuddle after sex," he commented.
"I've realized that it's OK to do this with you, Jones. Unlike a human male you aren't going to mistake my pleasure in the feel of your skin on mine for some sort of emotional attachment. I usually feel very uncomfortable cuddling, but this doesn't bother me. Besides, I'm not quite finished with you. I'm just taking a break."
He clasped me closer and ran one finger down my back, slowly, and I came again. Break time was over.
I'm not sure how I heard the ringing over all the screaming, but I did. Jones was still inside me as I reached over the side of the bed, rummaging through our mingled clothing, searching for my phone. It was Avon.
"Yes?" my voice dripped icicles and frost rimed the keypad.
"It's 3:00 and we were wondering if we should start without you."
I recovered my poise, quickly, "I am sorry, my meeting started late and I haven't been watching the time." Jones opened his mouth and I put my hand over it with a warning look. "I'll be there shortly. Talk amongst yourselves." I hung up on him.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I pushed Jones off and leapt up, grabbing up clothes and putting them on in a hurry. I threw Jones his clothes, "Hurry up, I'm late for a meeting."
He shrugged and reached for me, "Why hurry?"
I pushed him away and struggled to put my stockings on. I put a fingernail through one leg and decided not to bother. No one would notice. "Jones, it's my meeting, and an important one. I'm still fighting for control of my new group. Being late for this meeting isn't a good idea if I want to avoid future bullshit from them." I put on my shoulder holster and then realized it was way too big. I sighed and pulled it off, Jones handed me the one I had given him.
He was taking his sweet time getting dressed, so I helped him with his tie before giving him one last lingering kiss, which got me aroused all over again. I pushed him out the door and up the stairs and out onto the deck. I put on my sunglasses, making a mental note to adjust them before I leapt over the side and tore off down the dock to the Harbormaster's office.
I barely greeted him in passing as I ripped open the door and plunged through it directly into the conference room. Seven pairs of eyes turned to regard me intently.
It was very quiet for a moment, before Swill remarked, "That must have been some meeting."
Avon looked very offended, "I can't believe you've kept us waiting while you were out getting laid."
I tried to look innocent as I seated myself in my chair, "I don't know what you are talking about."
Michelle interjected, "Your hair is rumpled, your stockings are missing, and your shirt is buttoned wrong."
I blushed scarlet. There goes my crediblity. Now I'd never get control of the team of wayward scientists. I took the offensive, "It was business."
Xenium commented, "Then why are you wearing a different pair of sunglasses than the ones you had on this morning?"
I squeezed my eyes shut in mortification and nearly walked out at that moment. I was wearing his sunglasses.
The Ratman leaned towards me and peered at my face, "Those look just like the shades we examined from Agent Brown's effects."
Swill laughed, "You were off having some sort of kinky sex, weren't you? Your boyfriend dresses up like an Agent. I'll bet he chases you and interrogates you and then rapes you."
Avon pounded his fist on the table as he mocked me, "Is this what your base claim to be an expert on the Agent program on? Your perverse fetishistic sex drive?."
This had gone too far, it was time to let them know that I was the reigning expert and still champion. I got up, walked to the whiteboard and wrote three words on it in foot high letters before sitting back down in my chair, twirling Jones' shades in my fingers. There was a shocked silence in the room as they all read the words and then looked at me in amazement.
I had written: I AM XTC32
I addressed the open-mouthed gathering, "As I said, it was business." I opened my portfolio and turned to Avon, "I believe that answers your question about my fitness to lead this team. Not only did I develop the theories about the program we are about to review, but I am currently involved in field research involving one of the versions."
He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off, "No, Avon, I don't want to hear anything further on this topic. I am risking my life and my sanity to obtain research data to use against the machines. The other remaining version is hunting me, and he won't stop until he kills me." I looked around the table. "It's time we stopped arguing over who the boss is and got to work. This research is critical to the Resistance."
"One more thing. Xenium," he looked up at me wide-eyed, "Why is there a Pac-Man machine in my conference room?"
He stammered and looked down at the table. "I like Pac-Man," he said in a soft voice.
"That's fine, just keep it turned off during meetings," I glanced at the large yellow arcade machine, and he quickly got up and went to comply.
"Thank you, shall we begin?" I went to the board, erased it and started writing down a bulleted list of the theories about the Agent program I'd developed years before.
SENTIENT PROGRAM IS AN OXYMORON
(a) Agents are all identical copies or different versions of the same program (b) Agents are individuals
(a) Agents are incapable of emotions, but are capable of learning to display behaviors that give the appearance of emotions when they interact with humans. (b) Agents are sentient programs capable of developing the capability to experience sensation, perception, and emotion
(a) Agents are members of the machine race assigned the function of policing the Matrix (b) Agents are part of the Matrix and are not capable of existence outside of it
I turned back to the table, where the group was still staring at me with expressions of horror and disgust. I had continued to suspend their access to the chat functionality so at least they weren't talking about me behind my back.
I took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. "I guess we aren't quite ready to get down to work. I can see by your faces that you all have strong opinions regarding the nature of my field research. We had better air this now, so we can get on with what matters." I noticed my voice was a bit hoarse and raspy, and I fished a cough drop out of my pocket. Screaming is not good for the throat.
Michelle spoke for the group, her tone primly disapproving, "I can't believe that you could do such a disgusting thing. You seem proud of the fact that you are having relations with one of those monsters, and brag about how good the sex is. They are killing our people, they want to exterminate us all, and you seem to feel no guilt about what you are doing. You even seem happy." She shuddered and gave me a dirty look.
I looked around the table, everyone was nodding their agreement with her, "I see that what you are saying is the general consensus of the team. Good, I'll only have to address this issue once, and then I want no further discussion, insinuation, etc."
I turned and looked at the list on the board, "Years ago, I was like you, secure in my ivory tower and safe in the real world. I developed this list of theories as part of the original project team. As you can see, they are all in pairs, each one contradicting the other. Like all of you, none of us had ever encountered an Agent once we were unplugged, and I was the only one who had ever done so while I was still within the Matrix. They came to my house and tried to take me away, but my mother refused."
I turned back to them, looking around. "We argued back and forth over whose theories were right and whose theories were wrong., Unfortunately, we had no data to back up any of these theories and so they have remained unresolved. Up until very recently the Agent Research Program consisted of a small team of research analysts, summarizing reports submitted by field operatives and developing statistics. Those reports consisted largely of the same information. An Agent showed up, everyone ran away and got out. An Agent appeared and someone fought him and died. An Agent captured an operative and that operative was never seen alive again."
"We've had very little information available about them, besides their strength, their speed and the fact that they do not give up once they start to hunt one of us. Not enough to prove or disprove any of our theories. I was asked to go into the field and research them. I refused, I knew it would mean certain death if my cover was blown. That cover has now been blown, and as I reported previously, Agent Brown is hunting me and it's only a matter of time before I am never seen alive again. Only now, because of what I am doing, are we now doing serious field research, which is providing us with the first detailed information we've ever had. "
"Michelle, you called me happy. I am living on borrowed time. Only this past Friday, as you will see in the update to the report I'm about to give you, I had an encounter with Agent Brown. I was lucky." I walked to the window and looked out. I could see the front of the building where the Matrix section had relocated. "He was standing right down there waiting for me when I came out of the building where he'd already run me to ground, but couldn't shoot me because we were surrounded by coppertops."
I turned back to her, my eyes bleak. "My exposure to the Agents has cost me my job, my friends, my recreational activities, and will soon cost me my life. I was convinced to participate in this field research so that my life and my death would not be wasted. It is this recent field activity of mine that has brought about the upgrading of this small and largely ignored project to the forefront of the Resistance. The data that I have brought in to date must be analyzed so that these old theories can be proven or discarded and we can develop further theories and objectives that will drive my field research for as long as it lasts. And somehow, we will find a way to beat them and free our people."
I sighed, "There's just not much time. Every day that passes is another day closer to the end for me. Every hour we waste in infighting is an hour of my life wasted. The only time that has not been wasted is the time I've spent with Agent Jones. That time, no matter what activities we engage in, is dedicated to the future freedom of all of our people. Yes, the sex is very good, which is why I usually turn it down. I enjoy it too much, and I know he is just using it as a way to manipulate me. I believe he is intending to convince me to serve them as one of their fifth column. "
I rolled my eyes, "If only he knew how impossible to convert I am. I have another reason for spending time with him. Strange as it may sound, the only time I'm not afraid for my life is when Agent Jones is with me. As his potential informant/traitor, he has to keep me alive or I'm of no use to him. He keeps Agent Brown away, even warns me, if I bother to return his calls. When we are alone on the boat is the only time I remove my sidearm," I indicated the pistol in it's holster.
I returned to the board and indicated the first pair of divergent theories. "OK, people. Time to get started. Swill, make yourself useful and capture what we discuss. We have two very different theories here. Agents are either identical copies of the same program, different versions of the same program, or they are individuals. Based on the information you have seen in the reports, I want to see some observations that prove or disprove these theories."
Avon spoke right up, "No program can be an individual, so that second theory should be stricken from the list. It's ridiculous, and obviously one of your theories."
"Actually, Avon, it is not my theory. For the record, the theories marked (a) are the theories I postulated. They are what I believed years ago and what I continue to believe. I will be very pleased if you can prove my theories, you will just need to provide me with conclusions based on the data that back it up. Can anyone offer any observations that do so?"
Xenium offered an observation, "They all appear to have the same basic functionality, only the user interfaces are slightly different. They can all run at high speeds, jump great distances, dodge bullets and fight beyond the level of humans." He looked back down at the table and continued stroking the stuffed penguin on his lap.
Swill chimed in, "They are tightly integrated as a team, which is not possible for a group of individuals. They finish each other's sentences, and that would not occur between individuals. Morpheus' report clearly showed that they worked together without friction, except when he broke what was obviously one of their rules of behavior and was questioned by Agent Brown."
The Ratman spoke up nervously, "There are some minor differences in their basic functionality. Brown is reported to be the fastest and most agile. Jones is said to be the most powerful fighter. Smith was the central figure, the brains of the group, if you will."
"I agree, the only time I've gotten an argument out of Jones is when I make disparaging remarks about his race. Like Michelle, I've called him a monster. He disagrees with that assessment." I rolled my eyes, "He says he is neither a man nor a monster."
Choad remarked, "I vote for monster." The rest of the group laughed, and I unbent enough to smile.
"Very well, it sounds as if theory (b) has no takers. Lets look at the next pair. Are Agents sentient and capable of feeling and experiencing what humans do, or do they just give the appearance of it by using behaviors that humans interpret as them having feelings? Again, I'll hear your observations before giving mine."
Avon was thoughtful for a moment, "Morpheus' report again indicates that Smith displayed considerable feelings of anger and hate. He informed Morpheus that he hated the Matrix and humans, who he considered a plague."
Swill agreed, "Neo's report indicated that Smith was very angry when he fought with him, his face convulsed with rage. He told Neo that he would enjoy watching him die. Neo also observed Brown and Jones running away from him in fear after he destroyed Smith."
Choad disagreed, "Morpheus was heavily drugged and under interrogation. I wouldn't base my conclusions just on what he had to say. Smith's behavior was more likely calculated to make him feel fear and thus be motivated to provide him with the information he required."
Michelle nodded, "Smith's apparent rage was a bit overdone, but intended to intimidate both Smith and Neo. I see no reason to ascribe that behavior to actual feelings."
Xenium stopped playing with the penguin for a moment and added, "Brown and Jones' running from Neo simply indicates that they have a self-preservation subroutine. They realized that Neo had the power to destroy them, so they decided to escape the area to avoid destruction so that they could report this to their superiors and determine how to terminate him."
I agreed with him, "Agent Jones has encountered Neo in my presence on a few occasions. He did not display any indication of fear. He is aware that Neo can destroy him, but only accused me of hiding behind him. How about the issue of sentience?"
"Sentience implies that they are capable of feeling physical sensation. No report has indicated that they feel pain, or," the Ratman glanced at me and blushed, "pleasure. They can be knocked down and their hosts killed, but they do not display a reaction indicating that this causes them any discomfort."
I turned back to the board and stood fidgeting with the marker. "These two theories will require further observation and analysis in order for one or another to be proven. Nothing I have observed so far leads me to believe that theory (a) is incorrect. I believe that Sentient Program is an oxymoron, and that Agents are no more capable of sensations or emotions than that Pac-Man machine over there. Brown is very adaptive, he's learned a number of my behaviors." I sighed, "He's taken to sighing in imitation of me, and he throws my words back in my face." I rolled my eyes, "If he decides to roll his eyes at me he's getting smacked, though, I can only put up with so much."
I addressed the team, "This leads us to the last pair of theories. Are Agents a part of the Matrix's programming that only has existence within this artificial reality, or, are they separate applications that exist independently of the Matrix and part of the race of machines?"
"Morpheus' report is clear on that aspect," began Choad, "Smith stated that he needed to the codes to the mainframe so that he could get out of the Matrix. He told him that once Zion was destroyed there would be no need for him to be inside."
Michelle rolled her eyes and disagreed, "Smith was just trying to manipulate Morpheus. He would have told him anything to get that information so they could destroy us all."
Avon pointed out, "Morpheus overheard a conversation between all three Agents. Not only did he instruct Jones to deploy the sentinels, but he said, 'never send a human to do a machine's job'."
Choad agreed, "Yes, this implies that they have authority over the machines outside the Matrix. He also referred to the creators of the Matrix as 'we' in an obvious reference to his race."
"I agree, he referred to 'the developers' a couple of times, and it leads me to believe that the machines are not all alike in their levels of functionality or responsibility. The Sentinels are machines, but they are limited to 'search and destroy', higher functionality would not be needed for them. Whereas the Agents who were designed to interact directly with human minds, require a much higher level of intelligence for their purpose. It may be that all machines are developed with a specific purpose in mind. We know nothing of their 'society' at all. We tend to call them machines, but the mechanical bodies of the Sentinels are only their shells. They are programs, the same as the Agents are a program in a user interface."
I smiled, pleased, "So it would appear that I'm 3 for 3. My first and third theories are confirmed so far, my second theory will require additional field research to prove. I'm going to have ask Jones some more questions, I usually do most of the talking."
"Strong, silent type?" joked Xenium.
"Very much so." I rolled my eyes again. "I'll have to see what I can do to get him to open up a bit more about his kind. That means I have to ask him instead of tell him. Guess I'll be taking the boat out quite a bit."
Avon's head whipped around in my direction, "Did you say, 'boat'?"
"Yes, she's a 48' cabin cruiser, all the bells and whistles, and she totally hauls ass."
"Really," he leaned towards me and smiled, suddenly friendly for the first time, "so, the Section has an official boat, as well as an official arcade machine."
"No, Avon, I have a boat. I've had one for years. I'll have to see about arranging an outing." I looked around at the table full of interested faces, "There are some issues that will have to be worked out. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to take a bunch of amateurs into the field, just to party on my boat."
"Dangerous?" he argued, "What could be dangerous about going out on your boat?"
I ticked off the reasons on my fingers, "The boat is in what we call 'the field', docked at a marina full of coppertops, any of whom could become Agent Brown in a heartbeat. You are not cleared for the field, you are not trained for it. There's a considerable risk involved, unless…" I had an idea. "I'll check with my boss, see if he the benefits of increased morale outweigh the danger." And what he thought about my inviting a friend along for the ride.
Avon was confident, "I'm sure he'll see it my way."
I shrugged and erased the whiteboard. Xenium turned the Pac-Man machine back on and challenged Avon to a game. Swill snatched up Ratman's plastic pal and started playing keep away with Choad. Michelle stared at me with that same look of disapproval. I turned my back and walked out. I had a party to plan.
NEXT INSTALLMENT: I WOULD LIKE YOU ALL TO MEET A FRIEND OF MINE