Ch 01.
Title: Sati Owns a Smith Clone
Genre: Humor/General.
Setting: After Neo's visit at the Oracle's apartment in Revolutions.
Summary: Sati pwns a Smith Clone. What more can I say?
Disclaimer: All characters and locations with given names existing within the Matrix- universe belong to the Wachowski brothers.
He couldn't call them valuable to the Matrix. An Oracle contemplating the development with a cigarette thrust in between her sallow fingertips. A Guardian watching over aforementioned useless article, and a girl whom only was there to be aware of the dream world.
And if you were 'aware' inside the Matrix, you also were in trouble. Smith would ensure that.
The last lights went out when Smith and his copies entered the corridor. Everyone of them knew the Exiles must be somewhere in here - they saw them already in the stairway. And unless Seraph was able to fly without his wings, which he hadn't been in the last century, they must be hiding in one of the building's decaying apartments.
Smith opened a door, and then another one. In the dust-grey room inside, two shapes stood pressed against the wall and tried to blend in with the wallpaper's pattern.
'' It's been a long time ago. I remember chasing you was like chasing a ghost'' Smith saluted the guardian.
Sati at the other hand didn't know what to say, watching the Virus with same roundeyed wonder every person caused her the first time she met them. There it was again, that silently mindful awareness. Smith decided she would be the easiest to deceive.
'' And you must be the last Exile''. The Virus sat down at his heels, acting like the girl just had been introduced to him as the child of a long lost acquaintance.
In a way it was true - Smith's and the Ramachandras' opinions had clashed many times before.
'' The Oracle has told me about you'' Sati informed him in a frightened whisper.
'' Really? What did she say?'' A similar tone, and Smith could just as easily have asked what the child thought of Megacity this far.
'' That you were a bad man''.
What else could he expect of the old hag? A long time ago she had ceased to sweep his path as every ounce of control over the Virus had gone out of her hands.
Those dark brown eyes and the negative attitude to his being brought up too many uncomfortable memories. Pressing his thumbs to the girl's shoulders, Smith began to overwrite her code.
'' No!'' Beset with ferocity Seraph tried to escape the dark mass of Viruses holding him back only to have his arms locked in a vice grip, the copies holding him down like he was a tent canvas near to be swept away by the wind.
'' Why do you keep struggling, Seraph?'' Smith pondered, '' it has no purpose anymore''. After a moment the Guardian halted his fighting - even if he succeeded in escaping the clones now, he knew no efficient way to stop the code from overwriting Sati.
Eventually Smith removed his hand from the cluster of swarming code, surveying his work.
Naturally, the copy was crouching - Smith wasn't in the mood for bending every single rule of the Matrix and have his clones sprout upwards like some ludicrous potato haulm. It could stand up by itself anyway and would accomplish this task in due time.
Sati, now Smith-clone 2958, clumsily stumbled back to stand beside the overpowered Guardian, and leaned flabbergasted against the wall. Seraph shook his head in frustration over the happened, irately gnashing his teeth. Nobody else would know that another small program was consumed today. None but he…
And Smith too.
The mass of Viruses billowed backwards around the wingless angel, as their leader approached. Forcing up the guardian's face with his shoe tip, Smith stared him right in the eye.
'' Your turn, Seraph. I don't know, perhaps you predicted this situation when you studied your tealeaves this morning, perhaps not. But that's irrelevant now…''
Behind the dark glasses, Seraph shut his eyes.
'' That's right'', he heard Smith mutter, ''prepare for the inevitable''.
The oven was shut off, and freshly baked cookies were piled up in a sweet china bowl on the table. Now all that was left for the Oracle was to wait for them… Or him, depending on how you saw it.
Quietly and slowly like a funeral procession they came, a dozen suit-clad viruses whom sequentially broke the surface of her beaded kitchen drapery and effectively closed out the sunshine as they formed a barricade against the window. Silence reigned for a while.
The Oracle did something she'd never done in front of Sati or the pre-Neo-potentials - smoked a cigarette. Behind the dark sunglasses, the two latest Smith-converted Exiles lost their eyebrows to their hairline at this rare occurrence.
'' Great and powerful Oracle'', Smith addressed her, '' I suppose you expected me. Nothing surprises the omniscient Oracle, or does it? But if that's true, then why does she stay here?''
The program gave him an almost unwelcoming expression, telling Smith to go figure it out by himself. Actually, one should have considered him to do so before…
Smith swept up the Oracle's bowl of cookies from the table and slammed it into the wall, shards flying in fan-shape over the floor. Some landed next to copy 2958 who had time to think it was a pity regarding the cookies, before it realized it was malfunctioning more than usually.
'' Maybe you saw it was going to happen, maybe you didn't do it, but if you did it means you baked those cookies and set them right there purposely, deliberately!'' The Virus beside the table yelled at the Oracle, but clone 2958 was more concerned with the Exile rests worming deeper into its core. Damn that little imp, her data was fighting back!
'' What have you done with Sati?'' Certainly the Oracle felt worry for Seraph too, but she had sort of seen it coming that Smith would convert the guardian into another clone. Sati could still be hiding in the house's attic or escaped through a back door.
What was left of the girl - a tiny green code stirring inside the clone - suddenly felt compelled to reveal itself:
'' Cookies need love like everything does''. It was almost pensive, that was not the loving way Sati once had said it. The other Smiths cackled in perfect chorus, while the clone withdrew to the outskirts of their group. Oracle's face twisted with anger.
'' You bastard…'' She grinded the cigarette butt in the ashtray.
'' Oh, but you know me, mom…'' Smith tilted his head in a mockingly hurt way.
'' Just do what you came here to do'' the older program told him. Was it a plead, was it an order? All too irrelevant.
'' Yes, ma'am ''. Motioning closer Smith examinated where would be the best place to let the infection begin. He remembered the older shell had had a medium-sized burn on the wrist after a scorching hot baking plate, and actually it had remained on her arm. Programs may not identify pain the way humans did, but Smith still felt satisfaction in causing the Oracle even a little of it when he drove his fingertips into the reddening spot on her Matrix arm.
As Smith's code infected our Oracle's RSI, things started to flail about. A strong turmoil formed around the two and grew into a storm, turning the kitchen interior over. A toppling coffee jar tipped out the Oracle's entire small-change, and clone 2958 stopped just long enough to fill its pockets with five dollars in coins before exiting through the door. Of all the Smith-clones inside the room, only the one containing Seraph could possibly have noticed the gust coming from another source than the by code connected programs. 2958 ran down the stairs and was gone.
'' Chocolate! Liquorice! Banana split, ice lollipops…''
The lady behind the narrow counter trailed off, as a man in his early forties approached the ice cream stand. He was very rude, pushing the lined up kids aside and striding forward with the effect of a tank.
The bill swiveled through the air and landed on the cart 's glass lid as he arrived at the counter.
'' One blueberry cone''. It was not a wish; it was an order to the lady behind the cart. She glared surly at him with her little piggy eyes, and the clone quickly added:
''…Please''.
'' Haven't your parents taught you manners?'' The woman spat out grossly. '' Now let the others go first in line, they were here before you! An adult who behaves like that, shame on you!''
The clone reacted like Sati at the false accusations against Rama and Kamala - but it acted like Smith; simply lunged its hand into the lady's stomach and overwrites her code.
The children screamed and ran helter-skelter across the yard, some bumping into each other, others cried for mommy and vanished among the houses within seconds. Left stood Smith-copies 2058 and 2061, surveying each others correct clothing for a moment before the newest clone with dignified pace bent down and picked a cone wrapped in blue paper from the freezer box, handing it over to his fellow copy.
'' Thank you '' Smith 2058 received the item and instantly began tearing off the paper from this new-won trophy, while sitting down in one of the playground's swings. Clone 2061 gave a curt nod, continuing down the street to draw more customers (and victims) to the ice cream cart.
The Oracle-Smith, then?
At the moment this clone stood up, vindictively glaring Smith in the eye. The original virus pulled away, as if he'd found a rattlesnake in this kitchen and now waited for a bite.
It never came - right then clone 2060 had a vision with its gifted eyes; A TV-team preparing a news coverage of something peculiar. They never broadcast it though, they are Smith-copies before nightfall. But about what would the team talk about, if they had had the time to…?
And then a ludicrous image popped up in the clone's mind.
It began to laugh. First forced like a participant in a relaxation exercise, then loud and unrestrained until none could stop it - did it matter anymore, anyway?
The clone's vision pictured two other Smiths standing in the yard, trading ice cream and money right now. The one holding a blueberry cone padded over to a swing in the playground, thumped down in it and started to lick at the frozen delicacy.
The image faded, and the clone stood there guffawing madly meanwhile original Smith hung over the balcony rail screaming at his copy in the playground:
'' Me there! Yes, me! Get back here!''
Seldom had an ice cream tasted this good - both Sati and the Smith clone agreed in concord upon this. It was still cold in 2058's mouth when two black clad shapes, holding a noodle can each, rounded the corner. After a short but harsh battle of the program minds, Sati and the Smith united around recognizing those newcomers as-
''Mr Anderson! Trinity!'' The clone ran up and threw the waffle cone aside. Said couple halted abruptly when they saw him come dashing across the street.
'' Damn! We can't even have lunch without him around!'' Neo growled. The duo hadn't jacked out just yet, because they decided to still this artificial hunger first. Now Trinity cocked the gun and Neo took on a battle position. However, Smith's first move was totally unpredictable.
'' I'm glad you got out from there!'' He jumped up and down like an anxious boxer pup, his necktie flapping about. Trinity stared. Neo stared, and suddenly the clone flung his arms around the One and floored him. Of course, the One reacted at this with self-control.
'' TRINITY! HELP!''
Long before Neo had Trinity realized what assistance he needed in this fight, and with her arms firmly clasped around the One's waist she began a tug-of-war with clone 2958. The copy proved itself a worthy challenger, but even in its divided mind struggled two wills; one half wanted to release Neo from a friendly hug, the other to crush mr Anderson flat against the pavement.
Neo gave a sound like a spring someone's stretching out, and succeeded to kick the Smith copy in the stomach. Oh, the awkwardness - people must think they were witnessing a triangle drama. While Trinity effectively separated the two combatants, Smith hid himself behind the balcony rail. None but he may realize this, but Sati's code had outrun at least one of his copies - made it buy ice cream and sit in a playground swing, not to mention the encounter with mr Anderson. It was even possible the Architect right now stumbled out of his swivelling chair to take a closer look at this exact moment through his television screens.
The Oracle-clone was still laughing, and just outside Smith's vision field the Seraph-clone enthusiastically applauded at his former protégé's deeds…
'' I've had better weeks'' the Virus muttered and tiredly rubbed his face.
There's simply not enough fanfic with Sati, so I felt the urge to write one based on an idea for a cartoon I had a long time ago. Hope it's enjoyable even though I posted it a little earlier than it was meant to. Originally I had the idea of to write a prologue to all following oneshots, but I think it will be one among the others if I write it down.
Anyways, Merry Smithmas and a Happy Neo Year to you all! (grin)
A/N March 2008: Minor grammatical edits done.