The man was distant, unobtrusive. He walked slowly yet steadily through
the common crowd of men, women, and children. His eyes were covered by
sunglasses, and he wore a black leather jacket and black plants. His hair
was black as pitch, and his right hand held a cell phone.
As the cell phone rang aloud, the man jumped in fright. He expected the entire crowd to turn on him at the sound, to pull out weapons and fire on him. But they continued about their daily affairs, giving no notice to the phone. He pressed the answer button and held it to his ear.
"Fire."
" This is your humble operator," came the reply.
" What can you give me, Drill?"
" You've got an approaching agent to your right."
The man, Fire, gazed around as his right hand moved into his jacket sleeve. As he looked at these people, he did not see them as humans. He saw them as software and hardware, all of which could be corrupted by a computer agent at any moment.
He felt a hand touch his shoulder and in an instant his hand was out of his coat, firmly clasping a Glock. He spun and aimed it right at the head of an average sized man, wearing a finely tailored suit and basic sunglasses. Though he tried to hide it, he was frightened. No one had fought an agent. At least, no one who lived to tell the tale.
He pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even hit the agent he had left the file and the bullet hit an old woman, dead on. She fell lifeless to the ground. The women surrounding him screamed in fright, and he looked down at the body. As he stared up at one screaming woman, he saw her face begin to twist and warp.
He dashed off as he heard her scream take a male tone and heard the click of a handgun. There was a cry from the side and he looked to see two police officers also after him. Obviously, they weren't very happy about the murder of an innocent old woman. As he came out of the crowd, who were now suddenly all focused on him, he saw the two cops coming in on him from two different angles. As he glanced backwards, he saw the agent pushing his way through the crowd.
Fire looked up and then at the crowd. He kneeled down and then leapt, and all memory of the laws of gravity left his thinking. He rose high into the air, as if powered by some invisible source, until he landed as soft as a feather on an overhang some twenty yards from the ground.
There was a gasp from the crowd as the police officers and the agent reached the spot of his leap. The two officers gazed up at him in shock as he scrambled onto the rooftop of a duplex and ran at an impossible speed across it.
" That's not.possible," one officer said. The agent saw a construction worker fixing the shingles on the duplex roof some ten yards ahead of the running Fire. There was a sizzle of energy and the two officers stood beside a frightened woman, who fainted on the spot.
Meanwhile, Fire was dashing across the duplex rooftop, the Glock still firm in his grasp. He gazed back to see the two cops reviving the agent's former host, and turned back to see a construction worker morphing into the agent. The agent stood waiting for him. Fire raised the Glock and emptied his round.
The agent's frame dispersed and appeared translucent in many different places, until each bullet missed its intended mark and flew through a mere trail of the agents body. It moved faster than life itself. Fire stopped and dropped his Glock to the shingles of the roof. He pulled out his cell phone.
"I really need an exit," he said.
"An exit, Mr. McGuire?" the agent smirked. " I am quite certain that you will not find an exit anytime soon."
The agent jumped at Fire and hit him directly across the face. Fire hovered in between consciousness from the sheer power of the blow, until blackness took him.
***
The rain pelted Fire's face as his eyes fluttered, life flowing through him once again. His hand came up to his face and it was very sore. Merely touching it surged pain through his body. He struggled to his feet and saw that he was in a small alleyway. It was nighttime, and for a moment Fire forgot that he was not in the real world, forgot that there was a matrix at all. If only such a delusion could last. Soon, images of the chase that afternoon filled his memory.
He felt for the cell phone in his pocket, and found it untouched. He pressed the auto-dial button.
"Your humble operator."
" Drill."
" Fire, is that you?"
" I need.I need."
" An exit?" Drill asked. Fire heard the sound of quick typing. " I've got one for you. There's a payphone just around the corner."
Fire hung up the cell phone and heard a muted ringing through the pouring rain. He struggled his way out of the alley, and saw a payphone booth just five meters away. He trudged up to it and opened the door. The phone continued ringing. He picked it up and placed it to his ear. He waited for the rush of coming back to life, breathing real air in the real world.
That rush never came. Instead of being devoured by the phone, instead of awaking from the matrix, he merely heard a dial tone. He waited patiently, but this dial tone merely continued. After nearly a minute, he heard a voice.
" If you would like to make a call, please hang up and try again. For a personal directory, press 0 to dial your local area operator. If you are communicating via a payphone, make sure that you have paid the sufficient payment for the correct operation of the phone."
Fire dropped the phone, shocked. As he stepped out of the payphone booth, and recalled the agent's words:
"I am quite certain you will not find an exit anytime soon."
Fire walked under the overhang of an apartment building and fell asleep to the sound of the rain. It was the first night he had actually slept in the matrix for a long time. His dreams were not true dreams, but they were enjoyable.
As the cell phone rang aloud, the man jumped in fright. He expected the entire crowd to turn on him at the sound, to pull out weapons and fire on him. But they continued about their daily affairs, giving no notice to the phone. He pressed the answer button and held it to his ear.
"Fire."
" This is your humble operator," came the reply.
" What can you give me, Drill?"
" You've got an approaching agent to your right."
The man, Fire, gazed around as his right hand moved into his jacket sleeve. As he looked at these people, he did not see them as humans. He saw them as software and hardware, all of which could be corrupted by a computer agent at any moment.
He felt a hand touch his shoulder and in an instant his hand was out of his coat, firmly clasping a Glock. He spun and aimed it right at the head of an average sized man, wearing a finely tailored suit and basic sunglasses. Though he tried to hide it, he was frightened. No one had fought an agent. At least, no one who lived to tell the tale.
He pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even hit the agent he had left the file and the bullet hit an old woman, dead on. She fell lifeless to the ground. The women surrounding him screamed in fright, and he looked down at the body. As he stared up at one screaming woman, he saw her face begin to twist and warp.
He dashed off as he heard her scream take a male tone and heard the click of a handgun. There was a cry from the side and he looked to see two police officers also after him. Obviously, they weren't very happy about the murder of an innocent old woman. As he came out of the crowd, who were now suddenly all focused on him, he saw the two cops coming in on him from two different angles. As he glanced backwards, he saw the agent pushing his way through the crowd.
Fire looked up and then at the crowd. He kneeled down and then leapt, and all memory of the laws of gravity left his thinking. He rose high into the air, as if powered by some invisible source, until he landed as soft as a feather on an overhang some twenty yards from the ground.
There was a gasp from the crowd as the police officers and the agent reached the spot of his leap. The two officers gazed up at him in shock as he scrambled onto the rooftop of a duplex and ran at an impossible speed across it.
" That's not.possible," one officer said. The agent saw a construction worker fixing the shingles on the duplex roof some ten yards ahead of the running Fire. There was a sizzle of energy and the two officers stood beside a frightened woman, who fainted on the spot.
Meanwhile, Fire was dashing across the duplex rooftop, the Glock still firm in his grasp. He gazed back to see the two cops reviving the agent's former host, and turned back to see a construction worker morphing into the agent. The agent stood waiting for him. Fire raised the Glock and emptied his round.
The agent's frame dispersed and appeared translucent in many different places, until each bullet missed its intended mark and flew through a mere trail of the agents body. It moved faster than life itself. Fire stopped and dropped his Glock to the shingles of the roof. He pulled out his cell phone.
"I really need an exit," he said.
"An exit, Mr. McGuire?" the agent smirked. " I am quite certain that you will not find an exit anytime soon."
The agent jumped at Fire and hit him directly across the face. Fire hovered in between consciousness from the sheer power of the blow, until blackness took him.
***
The rain pelted Fire's face as his eyes fluttered, life flowing through him once again. His hand came up to his face and it was very sore. Merely touching it surged pain through his body. He struggled to his feet and saw that he was in a small alleyway. It was nighttime, and for a moment Fire forgot that he was not in the real world, forgot that there was a matrix at all. If only such a delusion could last. Soon, images of the chase that afternoon filled his memory.
He felt for the cell phone in his pocket, and found it untouched. He pressed the auto-dial button.
"Your humble operator."
" Drill."
" Fire, is that you?"
" I need.I need."
" An exit?" Drill asked. Fire heard the sound of quick typing. " I've got one for you. There's a payphone just around the corner."
Fire hung up the cell phone and heard a muted ringing through the pouring rain. He struggled his way out of the alley, and saw a payphone booth just five meters away. He trudged up to it and opened the door. The phone continued ringing. He picked it up and placed it to his ear. He waited for the rush of coming back to life, breathing real air in the real world.
That rush never came. Instead of being devoured by the phone, instead of awaking from the matrix, he merely heard a dial tone. He waited patiently, but this dial tone merely continued. After nearly a minute, he heard a voice.
" If you would like to make a call, please hang up and try again. For a personal directory, press 0 to dial your local area operator. If you are communicating via a payphone, make sure that you have paid the sufficient payment for the correct operation of the phone."
Fire dropped the phone, shocked. As he stepped out of the payphone booth, and recalled the agent's words:
"I am quite certain you will not find an exit anytime soon."
Fire walked under the overhang of an apartment building and fell asleep to the sound of the rain. It was the first night he had actually slept in the matrix for a long time. His dreams were not true dreams, but they were enjoyable.