Disclaimers: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…
Following on from "Order" and "Promises".
Aboard the Neb, in the deserted Core, Neo sat at the operators seat, seemingly watching the endless streams of code. He didn't move when footsteps approached, hesitantly from behind. These days most of the crew apart from the original ones who had found him, were a little wary of approaching 'the One'. Neo was aware of the fact but could do little to change it. A little behind him a young woman paused, clearing her throat before speaking.
"Neo."
"Yes, Reye."
"Morpheus sent me to fetch you for dinner."
He didn't respond. She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
"Neo?"
"What? Oh, yeah, dinner."
He eased himself out of the seat, letting her take his place watching the Matrix. Seeing his sad look she patted his arm comfortingly, though a little uneasily.
"We'll get them." She said referring to the Agents.
"Yeah."
"We're gonna pay them back good and proper!"
"Sure." Neo muttered as he made his way to the galley.
There had been a time when he would have agreed with Reye's logic but not now, not after all those people had been killed. He knew that deaths were unavoidable in any war but for it to happen like this… so many people killed without every knowing why. Only a little while ago they'd thought that they'd found the key to fighting the Agents; they'd copied code from some random AI and replicated it, affectively creating their own 'Agents', capable of fighting on the same terms as the Matrix Agents. Unfortunately something had gone wrong. The rebel Agents had resisted not only the control of the Matrix but also Zion's control; they'd been the cause of mass destruction within the Matrix. Then the AI had taken steps to combat the rebel action and the fallout had been unimaginable. Neo had seen the destruction first-hand, whole districts decimated, hundreds of lives lost needlessly; it seemed that the system had released its most destructive Agents to deal with the threat. He'd seen the charred corpses, some half buried in the remains of demolished buildings… He still had nightmares about the sight.
Inside the Matrix all repairs required to compensate for the rebel attacks had been completed, leaving the humans within completely unaware of the threat to the system. The Agents had gone back to their specific duties, as if nothing had happened. The Enforcers had done so too, all bar one…
In a small office area, in a certain operations plant, the one remaining Enforcer loitered; there was really no other word for it. The area was arranged with four desks, two facing each other. Three of the desks were taken up with computers, files, etc; while the third was occupied with a redundant printer and stacks of random paperwork. In the corner a disused coffee machine sat on a table.
At the desk opposite the printer Agent Jones was scanning data and filling in tick boxes on some manual report at his side. Agent Brown's desk, next to Jones' was occupied by the aforementioned Enforcer. Raphael sat back in the chair, long legs propped up on the desk. He was glaring at Agent Smith, who continued to type. Scowling, Raphael got up and moved to perch himself on the edge of Smith's desk and for added effect exhaled the next trail of smoke from his cigarette into Smith's face. Smith continued to ignore him.
"I'd never realised…" Raphael began, addressing no one in particular. "Just how boring you are." He looked poignantly at Smith.
There was silence, disturbed only by the clacking of keys as Smith typed and Jones periodically pressed a key.
"So dull. How can you possibly stand it?" Raphael drawled.
Brown entered the room, taking his place at his desk.
"I'd get more response from a brick wall, as humans are fond of saying."
Brown considered pointing out the flaw in the logic of the Enforcer's last statement.
"Don't." came Jones voice through the communication channels.
A pause as Brown considered his response "I do not understand."
"Smith is not talking to him." Was Jones' humour tinged reply.
"Still?"
"Yes."
"I do not understand why."
"It is a primitive form of physiological torture."
Raphael continued to frown at the unresponsive Agent. Smith continued to ignore the Enforcer. Raphael considering his options, decided on a change of tactic. He shifted a little on the desk, so that he was now leaning against the monitor, practically draped over it, in fact. With studied casualness he inspected the almost-cigarette butt between his fingers, "I don't suppose you have an ashtray, darling?" he drawled, lazily. Surprisingly that seemed to gain some response from Smith, who stopped typing to reach into a desk draw and remove an ashtray, which was placed on the desk, within Raphael's reach.
"Why, thank you." Raphael disposed of the cigarette and laid his head against the top of the monitor. He smiled at Smith winningly.
"This is physiological torture?" Brown sounded unsure, through their silent communication.
"Not… exactly." Jones replied, watching the situation with interest.
At first Raphael seemed content to simply watch Smith, then he suddenly reached over and with his middle finger pulled Smith's sunglasses a little way down his nose. Blue eyes fixed on him as Smith stopped typing. "What is it that you want, Raphael?"
A smug smile was his answer. Hiding a sigh, Smith pushed his glasses back into place and resumed typing.
"When will you get rid of your Enforcer?" Jones questioned Smith through the communication channels.
"He is not mine." Came the clipped reply.
"He would appear to be so." Brown interjected, only to have Smith kick him under the table.
From his vantage point in the code streams of the Mainframe, Lucifer observed Raphael's actions within the physical construct, with a small smile. Trust his Lieutenant to make the best of any situation.
It a few moments or perhaps many days, as they could be counted in the construct, Raphael reattached to the Mainframe. He was subdued at the apparently failure of his plan but unrepentant.
"It almost worked." Lucifer heard him mutter.
"Almost is not good enough in this situation." He commented.
"The rebels have yet to respond though." Raphael pointed out.
"Then we will wait.
"Yes. Wait and watch… as always."
"As always…the Matrix endures." There was a hint of a smile in Lucifer's voice.
"And you believed him unstable!" Raphael began to laugh.
"It is not impossible that I could be wrong."
"Just improbable." The laughter continued.
"You spend too much time on frivolity, Raphael." Lucifer commented dryly.
"But surely existence would be too dull if I didn't, my Captain." Came the light reply.
Lucifer said nothing, though if he had been in his physical form he might have shook his head in disbelief.
TBC…
Call this the prelude to the rest of this piece. Oh, and Reye syndrome is a rare complication that can occur with children after a viral infection… it seemed a good name for a rebel.
17:55, 07/05/02