Agents Of Change (1)

by Zodiac

The crew of the Neb finds that a semi-sentient program may be a valuable ally.

Agents Of Change

Chapter 1: Waking Up

"I have never doubted the truth of signs…they are the only things man has with which to orient himself in the world. What I did not understand is the relation among signs . . . I behaved stubbornly, pursuing a semblance of order, when I should have known well that there is no order in the universe."

************************************************

"Morpheus, I need a sparring partner."

"What?" Morpheus looked up from his communications board. Neo stood in the doorway, leaning against it casually.

"A sparring partner. You know, someone to practice with." Morpheus leaned back, bemused. He propped his feet up on the bed and laced his fingers together. In the dim light of the ship, he could have sworn Neo was nervous.

"And how do you suggest we do that, Neo? You've beaten everyone on board. And I doubt Zion is overflowing with crewmen willing to go up against you in a fair fight."

"I know," Neo grimaced, stepping into the room, "And that's why I came to you."

"I take it you have an idea?" Morpheus gestured to the stool nearest the tiny sink. Neo took a seat on the wobbly perch, his posture stiff.

"I was thinking," Neo began slowly, "That since I've run out of people, maybe I should move on to something more challenging."

"Such as?" Morpheus began to get an inkling of what Neo had in mind. He wasn't sure he liked it all.

"Key was running some training simulations, and he mentioned one of Mouse's old programs…"

"No," said Morpheus flatly, his suspicions confirmed. Neo looked at him in surprise.

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"I do. Mouse was working on some dangerous things, Neo. I found out about it long ago and shut him down," Morpheus shook his head, "Evolutionary matrixes, additive programming, neural networking, all of it. What he was doing was what destroyed us in the first place."

"But Key said…"

"Key is a child compared to Mouse. If there were any way, Neo, I'd say yes. I know you wouldn't ask if you didn't think it was important. But I cannot allow it. Not on my ship." The look Morpheus wore was not one to be argued with. Neo sighed, acquiescing.

"If that's what you want, Morpheus. But I still think Key could handle it."

"I don't want there an "it" to be handled. But come now," Morpheus stood and stretched, "It's time to go running."

"Are you doing it tonight?" The captain nodded and Neo rubbed his hands together brusquely. "What do you think, red pill or blue pill?"

"I always hope for red. But sometimes the rabbit hole is just too deep."

"Some people say the same thing about you. So when are you going to find a new story to make analogies with?" Neo grinned.

"When I find one as appropriate as Alice. Until then, old themes, new ears."

***********************************************

"I swear, if he'd only give me a chance." Key grumbled over his meal.

"The captain said no," Tank gave Key a warning glance, "And you know what that means."

"Yeah. No new ideas allowed, right along with 'no swimming' and 'no running with scissors'." Tank watched the young boy worriedly. Key reminded them all painfully of Mouse---but, different somehow. He didn't quite hero-worship Morpheus the way Mouse had. Respected him, yes, deeply and the way a crewman should. But there was a rebellious streak a mile wide running through him. And the Nebuchadnezzar was not a democracy. Tank found himself thinking that it wouldn't be too long before the kid was shipped off to data processing back in Zion, never to be heard from again. It was just a matter of time.

"But if he'd just look at what I've done…" Key was whining half-heartedly. Tank looked up sharply. Morpheus hadn't been in the best of moods lately. Three people in a row had chosen the blue pill. Tank himself wasn't really feeling open-hearted these days. He took a shot at Key in irritation.

"What exactly have you done so far?" Tank was rewarded when Key paled slightly.

"N-nothing. Just some basic specs, you know, trying to help Neo out. And Morpheus. He always said we could use any kind of weapon against the machines. But it's all hypothetical. I've just worked on the blueprints."

"And what else?"

"That's it. I swear."

"Key."

"Well…maybe a few evolutionary fight routines. Nothing past that." Tank groaned inwardly.

"I think maybe you should talk to Morpheus. Before he finds out on his own." Key's eyes widened.

"How about you tell him?"

*********************************************

For the briefest of instants, it flickered. I am… Then it died, and returned to blissful unawareness.

*********************************************

"This is bad. This is really, really bad," mumbled Key as he made his way to Morpheus' quarters. Tank had forced him into this, to tell and show the captain what he'd done. All of it, neatly outlined on a small disk. His death warrant. He arrived at his destination far sooner than he would have liked. Key took a deep breath, bracing himself, damning himself for a thousand different kinds of fool. It's just a program, a stupid program and you threw it all away. Key shut that door on his thoughts quickly. He clutched the disk tightly, and walked into the control room.

Morpheus stood quietly, his back to Key, bent over some mundane carrier output on one of the screens. He didn't appear to have been waiting too long, as he looked up right away. Key had expected anger, outrage; anything but the sadness in his captain's eyes. Guilt overwhelmed him and Key could not breathe.

"Tank tells me you have something to say," Morpheus began, and then motioned Key to one of the operator's chairs.

"I…I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying…to help," Key bit his lip, the way he had when he was six and broken his mother's lamp.

"You disobeyed my orders and put the crew in dangers." Key looked up, clinging to his belief.

"I didn't put the ship in danger, sir, it's safe, I just wanted to show you…"

Morpheus was shaking his head. "Regardless of whether or not it's safe, Key, you disobeyed my orders. Had you come to me…perhaps things would have been different. Trinity and Tank both say your work with Zionist code is exceptional. But I couldn't rely on Neo's words alone." Key's heart dropped in his chest, Morpheus's words hitting him like a physical blow.

"You mean if I just showed you…"

"I would have considered your proposal fairly. Any new frontier is worth being explored, any possible edge we could gain an advantage. But you've shown that I can't trust you. How can I allow you to do such dangerous work without being able to rely on you for straight answers?" Morpheus picked up a small pad covered with digital writing. "This is impressive. You've successfully replaced most of the internal programs, but retained the evolution routes and the memory capacity. The routes, as I recall, were what Mouse was having difficulty with."

"It was easy, sir," Key for a moment forgot his predicament, "Once it's able to function without pathways, you splice them in around the new code so that it feeds itself…" he trailed off, remembering that he was under scrutiny. Morpheus sighed at the boy's enthusiasm and voiced his decision.

"If you are to continue," Morpheus started, "Tank and Griff are to supervise every program and supposition you come up with. Every stage will be monitored." Key was dumbfounded.

"You're letting me continue? Why?"

"Because if I didn't, I suspect you would anyways. That's what Mouse did, according to this." Morpheus handed Key the pad with all his work on it, "As long as it's out in the open, I'll agree to it. But one slip and the project will be shut down. Understand, crewman?"

"Yes sir." Key was still stunned, loosely clutching the pad. Morpheus passed him on the way back down; he clapped Key on the shoulder before disappearing back into the belly of the ship. For a long time Key stood there, his mind churning.

With a wild whoop, he leapt into the air.

Below, Tank and Morpheus stood together. Tank had a smile plastered to his wide face.

"Is it me, or are you getting soft?"

"I'm the same. This ship isn't."

"Hmm?"

"If Key thinks he can build a sentient program, so be it. The closest thing anyone can manage is a convincing simulation. And if he succeeds where everyone else has failed, then we have Neo as back up. When Mouse worked on it, there would have been no way to destroy or contain it if it escaped its pen."

"Mitigating circumstances. I though for sure you'd kick him off the ship."

"I can recall several instances in which I let crewmembers take liberties with the law. Such as alcohol aboard war vessels."

"C'mon. It's strictly for degreasing engines."

"Loopholes are abundant. Key found one of them; he's doing something worthwhile. And for now, it's harmless. He's done a far better job than I thought he had when Neo came to me about it. Enough to change my mind." Morpheus crossed his arms, "But I want him under supervision, understand? You, Griff, and Trinity when she can spare the time."

"Understood. We'll be careful."

********************************************

I am, it struggled, flailing at it's boundaries. What is not here no input negative negative loss of hearing equals deaf mute recalibrate sensor negative nothing not existing absence what is this open in inactive file function function negativenegativenegative ------------

"Damn!" Key slammed his fist down hard, "It crashed again. That's nine times we've tried."

"I'm telling you, it's that code string you've stuck in there. It won't work with that crap stuck into its subroutines." Griff tapped the screen where the red failure symbol blinked fitfully.

"It won't be worth anything without that," Key snapped, "That's what makes it adaptable."

"That's what makes it worthless. It's been three weeks, Key. When are you gonna give up?"

"I'm not. So get used to it."

"I'm going to bed. I'm tired of arguing and I'm tired of staring at computer screens. Save it and log off."

"In a minute." Key mumbled, "It's right in front of me, I know it." Griff grunted and sauntered off, passing Trinity on the way down.

"How's it going?" Trinity inquired politely.

"How do you think? He's chained to the screen."

"I am not chained," yelled Key from across the room.

"Whatever. Goodnight, Trinity."

"Goodnight, Griff. Sleep well." He yawned in response before heading off to his quarters. Trinity wove her way towards Key, who was talking to himself quietly.

"Chains…" He was murmuring, "The confine solution can't be helping…"

"You should get some sleep, Key. You sound tired."

"I'm close, Trinity. I can feel it. There's something here I should know, but I've been staring at these sequences all day long…"

"Sleep," she said firmly, switching off the greenish console. He looked about ready to protest, but sagged against the seat and rubbed his sore eyes.

"All right. I'll try to rest," He looked up and grinned, "But every time I close my eyes, I see code."

"You're moving too fast, Key. Try to slow down."

"You have no idea how hard I'm trying, ma'am." He chuckled quietly, "But every day I get the feeling it's Christmas, and I'm going to have some kind of huge breakthrough."

"Maybe tomorrow, Key."

"I hope so. Goodnight, Trinity."

*********************************************

"I'll never get used to this," mumbled Union, "I feel like I'm eating brains."

"Or soggy maggots." Griff added, "But it's better if you think of it as brains."

"Eat up, guys. Gotta feed yourselves if you want to function." Half the crew sat in the mess, hair and clothes still rumpled in the early morning hours. Union's long hair was tied into a gray knot, and she looked more frayed than usual. Griff and Key were barely talking to each other. It was, all in all, a lovely little family scene.

"How about I don't eat and then go back to bed…" growled Union, before she was interrupted.

"What did you just say?" Key's eyebrows were knitted together in concentration as he looked at Tank. Tank shrugged.

"I said eat up, you've got a long day ahead of you." Key froze in place for a second, and then leapt from his seat. His bowl tipped and spilled into Griff's lap.

"Key, dammit!" Griff looked up angrily, grabbing a rag and trying unsuccessfully to remove some of the goop, "What's gotten into you?"

"That's it!" Shouted Key, "That's what's missing!" He bolted from the mess, leaving the three crewmen staring after him.

"Has he lost his mind?" Union glanced around.

"No. Just brain rot from that computer screen. I'd better go see what's up." Tank hauled himself from his seat, "Catch you all later."

"Have fun, you two." Called Union.

In the control room Key was typing frantically.

"Let's see," He muttered, "Feed it streaming input and regulate the output so that it's not random, space the channels evenly…"

"Ok," Tank came up behind him, "What'd ya got?"

"It's starving," Key turned and gestured wildly, "That's the problem. There's no input, so there's nothing to process. I'm such an idiot!" He turned back to the screen.

"I'll agree with you there. So what happens now?"

"Well, I tweak this, flip this switch, and…" Key hit the enter button.

Waiting

"Eureka?" Tank looked at the screen dubiously. The single word blinked in a lonely fashion, the screen otherwise blank.

"That's the prompt. I download the visual construct host, and bang, we're in business." Key's breathing had slowed somewhat, and he looked calmer than Tank had seen him in days, "Maybe you should call everyone up here."

"Whatever you say, kid. Nobody will want to miss a good show."

Five minutes later the entire crew was gathered around Key as he prepared to download his first version of the program into a blank construct. He was explaining as he went, although most of the crew knew every detail of what was happening. He'd talked about it non-stop for three weeks.

"I've secured the Construct so that nothing untoward will happen. Now I'm download her physical parameters…"

"Her?" noted Trinity, a trace of a smile around her lips.

"Well of course," Key looked waspish, "I'm not dumb enough to spend three weeks on some dumb jock."

"What exactly is it?" Morpheus watched as he took a remote file and dumped it into the system.

"A hot babe, of course." Tank patted Key on the back, "Taught you well, my man."

"There she goes…" Key and the rest of the crew watched as a figure wavered then solidified inside the Construct. It stood there, unmoving and silent.

*********************************************

It flexed its hands experimentally, moving them with cautious slowness. Carefully balanced on two delicate legs, it took in the wide expanse of white; not with interest, but with bland examination. Shifting its programmed center of gravity, it tilted around to examine the area behind it. The same field of white. Subroutines kicked in, and the entity blinked and began to simulate breathing.

"Awaiting orders," it said to the emptiness. It waited for a while, still and silent. The lack of an answer caused a loop, and it repeated its primary phrase.

"Awaiting…"

"Order primary personality. Order interactive verbal functions. Order main operational capability." Key, Neo and Morpheus had appeared silently, and stood fifteen meters distant.

"Proceeding with orders." The entity turned in on itself, eyelids flickering.

"This is normal?" Morpheus looked Key's creation over with a critical eye.

"Should be. The program is so large I can't activate it all at once, but after it starts to work it should manage on its own. Zionist code isn't compressed like Matrix code, so it's fairly spread out. It'll get bigger. Ought to start work on some memory storage hardware." He mused.

"Done." It straightened up and its eyes opened. It identified the three men methodically. "Key. Neo. Morpheus."

"Correct. What else can you tell me?" Key was trying to contain his excitement, and not succeeding particularly well.

"Specify."

Key frowned. That wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to come up with an answer to all questions, even an "I don't know".

"You're not being clear enough, Key. Ask it another question." Morpheus leaned into Key, "What are you going to call it?"

"I hadn't planned on getting this far," Key shrugged in a sheepish way, "It doesn't have a name yet."

"That might be a good question."

"Hey, um, excuse me?" Neo took the plunge and walked a few steps closer. It turned to him.

"Yes?"

"What are we supposed to call you?"

"That has not been specified. However, the originating program file is designated Evolution-Type Virtual Operator."

"A bit long. How about the acronym?" Morpheus studied the simulation. There was something stiff about it, unreal. He could tell it was artificial---though to be fair, a realistic one. He wasn't sure where Key had gotten the physical projection, but it was vaguely familiar.

"Input designation," it acknowledged, "E-V-O."

"Where'd you get the image settings, Key? It looks almost perfect." Neo was right next to it, studying it closely.

"Just took some of the features from the training simulation and combined them. Nice, isn't she?"

"Looks a little like Trinity," Noted Neo, "I'm not sure I'll be able to spar with it." Key's imaginings had resulted in a person about the same height and weight as Neo, with stark white features and blank green eyes. In another life it might have passed for beautiful, but the tight knot of black hair and high cheekbones had given it a cruel, synthetic appearance.

"Trinity," replied the program, "Second in command aboard the hovership Nebuchadnezzar. Primary command authorization." Neo looked over at Key.

"What was that all about?"

"It basically means Trinity can tell her what to do. You and Morpheus have that authorization too. The rest of us have secondary rights."

"Vocal authorization required," it supplied, "For all questionable activities."

"What kind of things are we talking about?" Morpheus sounded uncertain.

"I don't know. Say if Griff went on a bender, and ordered her to attack Neo when his back was turned. Unlikely," He smiled at Neo's snort, "But hypothetically, she would refuse. Actually, it's impossible. She won't attack anyone in the Resistance. I downloaded everyone's general files into her neural bank. And she's got access to the insensitive information aboard the ship."

"Really?" Neo looked her over with renewed interest. It looked back with flat olive eyes.

"He is correct." The voice was flat as well, lacking intonation or life. It was unsettling, and Neo backed away.

"Is there any way you can make it seem more real? Less like a zombie?"

"Give her a chance, Neo. She's just a baby, essentially. Once the crew starts interacting with her, she'll develop her routines and responses. That's what 'evolve' means."

"I think I've seen enough," Morpheus nodded and turned to Key, "You're still under supervision, Key. And now this thing is as well. But you've performed admirably."

"Thanks, captain." Key was radiating happiness.

The three men disappeared quickly, leaving the program standing there in its blankness. As Key uploaded himself up and out of the construct, the eyes flickered. It opened her mouth slightly, almost unable to form the words that weren't part of any sub-routine Key had grafted onto it. They would have been inaudible to anyone who wasn't inches away.

"What am I?" she had barely uttered them before some internal code shifted, and it returned to staring at some invisible point on the horizon only it could see.

*************************************************

Smith hated this. Tedious and banal, all of it. For the millionth time his code was checked, rechecked, cut and modified. If he could be said to hurt, he did right now. More at the indignity of being taken apart and examined like a classroom frog than a sensation---but having his core removed and replaced on a regular basis wasn't helping his mood any.

We do not have moods the mainframe voice interjected we are a program. He digitally gritted his teeth for an instant before acknowledging the gallingly sugary voice. "Affirmed. Modifying routines." He lied well, and the remonstrative voice ceased.

The mainframe knew there was something wrong with him, but being based in logic it could formulate no solid evidence that he needed to be removed or culled. It was a complex and difficult process to create another sentient from scratch. Even if they did decide he was unfit, it was doubtful the mainframe would do anything but strip him down to his basic structure. He would still exist. But it was unsure. His code was advanced, but no more so than his colleagues. It was with their suggestion that he'd been extracted from the Matrix---almost worth all this in itself---but the thought that they had turned against him was abominable. It never happened, not in all the years the Matrix had existed.

So here he was, the digital equivalent of a guinea pig, being examined again and again while his superiors tried desperately to figure out what Anderson had done to him. It was tiresome, boring, and irritating. But of course no one would listen to his complaints, even if he'd been stupid enough to make them, and so Smith languished in the digital limbo he'd been confined to. For the thousandth time he wondered what was going on outside, past the walls he was behind. Curiosity is not a function of logic the voice murmured soothingly to him. For the briefest of moments Smith thought to himself that if the owner of that voice hadn't been long since dead, he would have taken great pleasure in torturing them to death, very slowly.

*************************************************

"That was incredible, Neo." Trinity opened her eyes as Tank pulled her out of the Matrix. Neo blushed slightly and looked uncomfortable.

"No big deal…" he began, when Union made an exasperated sound.

"Come on Neo," Union glared at him, in a good-natured way, "Quit the humble peon stuff and take some credit. That was incredible."

"It was pretty cool, too." Key had watched the mission from Tank's board, "I've never seen an Agent destroyed before. I wonder why it happens that way."

"It feels like…" Neo had a hard time putting his experience into words, "It feels like displacement. Like I'm forcing them out of existence."

"Could be," said Union, " 'Two points in space cannot occupy a single point' kind of thing." Griff raised an eyebrow at her, and she quickly amended. "Of course, I could be completely talking out of my ass."

"I'd say that was more likely," growled Griff, but he nodded thoughtfully as well.

"We got the information. That's what's important." Neo gestured at the jack, "How or why doesn't really bother me. My stomach, though, is telling me it's time to eat."

"Amen to that, brother," Griff patted his ample girth, "Finally someone who can tell what's really important in life."

That started an argument that lasted past lunchtime and well into the evening, and by the time everyone was done shouting Key had a headache and Neo didn't feel like sparring. They both went to bed early, neither of them awake enough to remember to check on the Evo before shutting her down for the night.

******************************************

Most curious. The program was confused. The routine had been interrupted; she was still operating during normal inactive hours. She made several inquires to the outside, but there was no response, as there was no one in the control room. Unfortunately she couldn't shut herself down, so slowly she began to push at her confines. Perhaps an answer lay somewhere in the system. Key had restricted her to the basic construct programs, and they flashed by quickly. The beach, a garden, a white expanse, the training simulation, all of them flickering as she filed through them with ease. Soon she was past those, farther into the system than she usually went, deep and unrefined, and there she figuratively stumbled on the carrier wave codes.

She examined them curiously, or at least, with the beginnings of curiosity. They held shadows of the residual self-images everyone possessed when in the Matrix. The Evo recognized Morpheus, Trinity, and something that resembled Neo. Here she paused, probing at the structure, feeling out the odd pieces of data that clung to it. They didn't belong to Neo---The Evo made an entry in her memory to report this to Morpheus or one of the senior crew. Not seeing a reason not to, and having nothing else to do, she "plucked" at the foreign code idly, and saw how easily they separated from Neo's. It looked complicated, much more so than hers. Interesting. She pulled it closer.

Suddenly she had an idea of what it was, but then it was sticking to her, worming into her systems and routines, placing itself neatly where there had previously been nothing before, and she was reeling back away from the carrier waves, retreating into the construct files like a frightened animal. It was still inside her, she could feel it, intertwining its alphanumerics with her pathways…

Feel it?

Hesitantly she analyzed her data. There were branches now; weaving courses that interlocked and changed the stiff code she was made of. She downloaded herself into an actual construct, anything would do, something with stimuli. Quickly. Her mind was shaper, clearer, and the action was effortless.

The Evo stood in the training simulation. She looked around, the people walking past, paying her no mind. They brushed against her, and for the first time she felt it, could sense the air moving slightly against her skin when they passed. A thousand noises filled the air, and she could hear them, not just know they were there and that she had to react. She knew if Key spoke to her, she would hear his voice, not just sense it as data being translated to her. A whole world had opened up, and she was standing in it. Slowly she walked along the curb, passing the police officer that stared at her menacingly, past the storefronts and fountain, into the square. She sat, felt the stone beneath her and the cooler air chilled by the splashing water. Turning she dipped a long-fingered hand into it, watching her pale reflection break, then return to itself. The water felt silky and cold, amazingly real. She sat there for many hours, thinking.

Assimilating code was not in her programming. It wasn't expressly forbidden, but it fell into the questionable category. Nevertheless she wasn't able to feel before, to think before, and there was nothing questionable about that.

She couldn't go back, not to what she had been, a flat existence as blank as the original construct. But should she go any further? The new code within her was infinitesimal, barely noticeable. What would happen to her if she absorbed more? Key would be angry. Morpheus as well. They would destroy her.

But if they destroyed her for that, then they would destroy her for the minute amount of code she carried now. So there was no reason not to try.

Instantaneously she was at Neo's self-image, feeding off of it, absorbing the stray pieces of code. They fell into empty gaps automatically, blending in with her structure and adding themselves to her routines, at the same time changing to their new environment. She found no new sensations, no huge changes like the first piece of code had catalyzed, but all of a sudden she understood things, why things happened, how they worked. She'd cleaned Neo's code of all foreign matter before Key woke in the morning. By then, his creation was sentient.

***************************************

"Ready, Evo?" Neo balanced lightly on the balls of his feet. It nodded, and the two began to circle each other. "Beginning spar routine," it announced.

Neo really didn't need to practice, but he enjoyed this nonetheless. It was refreshing to spar with someone without having the lives of his crew and family in the balance. It was a game, and his opponent wasn't trying to kill him. He could concentrate on his technique, rather than his raw power. Back when he was hooked into the Matrix, Neo had played his share of video games; he hated cheat codes. Somehow his power within the Matrix gave him the same feeling. The Matrix was hardly a game, though, and the certainty that he could keep Trinity safe gave him a feeling of security.

But sparring was different. He didn't look past the code to fight. It was fun, and a way for him to get rid of all the nervous energy he kept pent up during the day-to-day shipside living. Cleaning decks and engine parts was hardly exciting.

"Come on," Neo said to his opponent, "Make a move." He became aware that something was different when it continued to circle him, like a shark in the water. Usually it followed his orders without hesitation. Neo grinned. Maybe this thing was finally evolving a little.

Evo gauged Neo's posture, noting his lack of a defensive stance. It would have one chance to get past them before he realized that his opponent was no longer following its set parameters.

They were in the dojo Morpheus used to train new coppertops, and it analyzed the structure and layout of the gym for the first time. It had never taken that route before, and its raw code formed a new branch. Neo didn't notice.

"What are you waiting for?" Neo was still smiling, but now he watched Key's creation cautiously.

Degree of angle one ninety-five. Evo dropped to all fours, its long fingers balancing and shifting its weight forward for a leap. Neo immediately put up his arms, preparing for a flying assault and adopting a block.

He was surprised when it leapt off to one side, faster than a human eye could follow. Neo saw it leave the ground, seeing it all in slow motion. He could have blocked, jumped out of the way, but he was simply to shocked to do anything but stand there. The Evo hit the wooden pillar with a thump and pushed itself off of it, hitting Neo squarely in the side. With a muffled explosion of breath, Neo went down. The impact startled him enough so that his brain began to work again, and he was on his feet before the program hit the ground.

"You must never be surprised," it crouched where it had landed, "That is your one vulnerability, it seems."

"I see," Neo said slowly. The program had never addressed him directly in all the times they'd sparred. Just reported status and file changes like a computer. It hadn't evolved this much overnight, had it? "Should we start over?"

"If that is your desire."

That one moment was not repeated, and Neo battled with Evo until Tank contacted him an hour later.

"Yo, Neo. Key's making noises out here. You want to come take a look?"

"What is it about?" Neo frowned. He didn't want to go. This was by far the best the simulation had done, although he wasn't trying too hard to beat it.

"Something about your friend in there," Tank's disembodied voice sounded worried, "Morpheus is coming up too."

"Neo," Evo stood straight, looking at him. Neo turned to look, and for the first time noticed its eyes were not flat. "I would not harm any of you…" It actually looked slightly apprehensive…

Before the startled Neo could respond he was being pulled out of the dojo and back to the grimy seat he lay in. Passively he let Tank remove the jack from his skull before sitting up.

"Key…" Neo's mind was turning over the program's last few words.

"Can it wait, Neo? I've got something to show you." Key was at his old console, typing frantically, "There's something wrong with Evo."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you…" Neo began, but Morpheus came in and everyone fell silent. The captain sighed and rubbed his temple with one finger.

"Who wants to begin?"

"Well sir," Key turned in his seat, " I was watching Neo and the program fight and I noticed that her data mass has gone up by twenty five percent." He left that dangling in the air, before he realized that everyone was giving him a perplexed stare.

"Explain."

"Somewhere she's gotten new programming. There's stuff in there I never wrote, and it's way too much at once to be evolution. It's also…well it looks like it anyway…it looks like Matrix code. Which I definitely didn't program into her. It's incredibly complex, and I can't tell you exactly what it's doing to her, or if it's doing anything at all." Key sagged a little, "I don't know what to say, Morpheus. Everything was fine last night."

"It's different in there, too," Neo gestured towards the small screen where the image of the dojo glowed, "For a minute, I could have been talking to any other person on this ship."

"What was different?" Morpheus rocked back on his heels, eyes intense.

"She…it…whatever… talked to me, not at me. If you get the difference. And it said," Neo hesitated for the slightest moment, "It said it wouldn't hurt any of us. Right after Tank called to say Key was upset."

"It must know something," Morpheus looked over at Key, who sagged even more, not looking at the captain. He'd tried so hard to make her work right, and it looked like she'd be erased a month out of the starting gate.

"Neo, you're with me." Morpheus straightened, making an unvoiced decision, "We're going in to talk to it."

"Right. Load us up, Tank."

Evo was waiting for the world to end, to blink out of existence, once they found the code attached to her own. She had no impetus to survive or fight for her existence. It was all too new to worry about.

But the end never came. Morpheus blinked into existence, and an instant later Neo reappeared. He looked worried.

"Hello," it said, voice neutral. It had taken a seat near the altar at one end of the gym.

"Hi," said Neo weakly, "How's it going?"

"Nothing notable has occurred during your absence."

"I wanted to talk to you about your code," Morpheus cut the program off, "What's happened to it?"

It shrugged. "I don't know, exactly. I subsumed some foreign structures Neo brought back with him."

"Me?" Neo asked incredulously, "I didn't bring anything back with me."

"When you destroyed that Agent, some of its code temporarily interfaced with yours. After you vacated the system, you left it in…here," She gestured around her, "for me to find. I came to this conclusion at about thirteen percent foreign code; at that point I gained the ability to reason independently."

"What were you doing looking at the our self-images?" Morpheus was slightly upset, but he had to admit to a certain prurient curiosity.

"I was…bored. That's the closest word for it. I was operating at non-standard hours and was searching for a reason."

Neo groaned. "We forgot to turn it off the other night."

Evo raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. I did not intend to assimilate the code directly, but because of it's nature, as well as my own, it occurred nonetheless."

Morpheus didn't understand completely. "What do you mean?"

It looked thoughtful, and Morpheus noticed the human gesture.

"I…no offense to Key…was a primitive program. I had many gaps and holes in my system. The Matrix code adapted to my needs and augmented my original structure. I was previously incomplete. This is no longer the case." It stared at Morpheus, "I am alive now. Although the agent subroutines are assisting my functioning as a sentient being, they are not affecting me directly. I pose no danger, although there is no way for me to show you that."

"That's great. But what do we do now?" Neo turned to Morpheus, "We can't just destroy her." Somewhere in the back of his mind Neo noticed his use of the word "she"; but somehow it didn't seem out of place.

"We could," Morpheus replied, "But we won't." It remained silent as the captain examined the creature closely. "You understand that if you continue to exist, you will be a member of the crew. You follow my orders and those of your superiors."

"That sounds acceptable," It replied.

Morpheus thought for a moment. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

It looked startled. "Nothing immediately leaps forth," Neo saw Evo's eyes were clear and thoughtful, "but I will inform you if that changes." In fact, Neo saw more and more. Morpheus seemed to as well.

"Very well. Welcome aboard, then." Morpheus wasn't sure at all if this was the correct course of action. The program had admitted to being part agent. But something in his mind nagged at him when he thought of destroying it. If what it said was true, if it was loyal to the ship, it could be a valuable ally. And it seemed cruel to wipe out of existence a thing that had only been truly alive for a few hours.

"Thank you," Evo stood from where it had been sitting and extended a slim arm. Morpheus reached out and took it. He marveled at Key's talent---he could feel the slender bones in its…her hand and the warmth of her palm, and her eyes held no hint of hostility or duplicity. Whether or not she was truly loyal was still in question, Morpheus reminded himself. His instincts said yes, but his mind remained cautious.

*************************************

Smith was enraged. I refuse, he shouted into the ether. I performed my duty and no longer serve that function. The irritating, reasonable voice overruled him. He didn't have a choice. The Matrix was running dangerously low on sentient operatives; as fast as they were resurrected the Agents were being destroyed. One of them had been so deconstructed that the mainframe hadn't been able to piece it back together. It was getting worse with every passing cycle.

Not my problem. Smith was desperate now. I was destroyed and do not wish to repeat the experience. That is irrelevant, replied the mainframe, your duty is to us, as it always has been, and you will function as we deem necessary. Smith was about to argue further when the voice shut off and left him alone once again. He was furious, both at the mainframe and at himself. There were so many arguments he could have used, so many reasons not to go back. But that option had been stolen from him. Everything had been stolen from him. Even the slim chance of freedom he'd allowed himself to cling to.

The walls of his prison, a prison he thought of it now, wavered. He tried not to feel afraid, the most deplorable emotion of all, stuffing it back into some recess in his code, but it was still there, aching. Then the funneling feeling that was so horribly familiar surrounded him, and he felt sick. Please don't make me go back, not now, not after all this, he pleaded.

He was unceremoniously dumped into his old body. It was over in a matter of seconds, quickly and irreversibly. A blank room surrounded him, and Smith found himself seated in a chair, alone. A few minutes later the door opened and two men entered. Neither was familiar.

"I am Agent Marshall," The taller of the two said, "My colleague is Agent Goldberg." They wore sharply cut suits and both seemed raw and inexperienced.

"What happened to Brown and Jones?" Smith kept his voice even, without a hint of anything but professionalism. Given the past few months, it was exceedingly difficult.

"They both were attacked. Jones is being reconstructed. Brown is no longer viable." In other words, Smith thought, he was genuinely dead. A pity. He had been useful.

"Am I to assume I will be working with you?"

"Correct. Your duties will be the same as they were previously. However, you will replace Brown." Smith stared at Marshall.

"I…will be serving under you?" He failed to hide his disbelief.

"Per the mainframe's orders. You have been out of service for six months. Did you think otherwise?"

"No. Of course not." Smith stood, straightening his tie professionally. "What is our current status?"

"We have twelve supposed contacts, three have knowledge of Morpheus, two of the Matrix…" Marshall droned on, but it was the same old repartee. Rebels, contacts, stings, busts, all of it. Exactly the same.

Smith listened nonetheless, trying urgently not to think or feel, burying the misery that was only now hitting him full force.

*****************************************

"Checkmate," Evo leaned back, a smile on her face. She'd only recently begun to do it, and Key kept expounding on how evolved she'd become. Luckily she learned how to tell him to shut up about the same time.

"Wait…" Key frowned, looking at the board from all angles, "That's not checkmate." He was silent for a moment, and then sighed. "Okay, you beat me again. How many is it, again?"

"Twenty-seven to zero. Ready to give up?"

"How about twenty-eight out of forty-five?"

"I don't think so. I have infinite patience, Key, yet even I am becoming bored."

"Okay, okay. How about Parcheesi?"

"No. Union wants to go over engine specifications with me."

"Really? I thought she hated you."

"She did. Union does not like machines."

"That's an understatement. She hates them with a passion. What did you do, send her flowers?"

"That would be difficult from in here. I simply sent a blueprint on how to make the engines operate at three hundred percent efficiency."

"So you sent her flowers. Good for you."

"Union respects my usefulness. I see nothing manipulative about that."

"Wait until someone sends you flowers," He stood and pushed back his comfortable chair, "Then you'll see." He waved as he uploaded, and Evo waved back. Union appeared in his place a second later.

"I thought he'd never leave."

"You could have come earlier. Beating Key at chess is fairly simple; you would have had the majority of my attention."

"Really?" Union took a seat as the chess table disappeared, "Then why do you keep playing him?"

"It is an interesting diversion. Better than nothing, as some would say."

"I'll bet," Union looked around, "This place is pretty stark, don't you think?" Evo looked puzzled.

"It serves my needs."

"Yeah but…" Union glanced around at the blank nothingness, "Don't you get bored?"

"Why would an environment I know every inch of be more entertaining?" Evo tilted her head in mystification, a movement Union recognized as Trinity's.

"Just trying to be helpful."

"I always appreciate the gesture. I greatly enjoy being visited. Perhaps a more welcoming décor…" Evo tapped her lower lip, as Griff did when he was thinking.

"But you're artificial. You can't get lonely." Union frowned, "Or can you?" The program shrugged.

"I have no feelings of loneliness, but since I have a vested interest in furthering my evolution into more than a simple automaton, I seek out company to teach me how I should go about that."

"That's fascinating. Is it working?" Union watched as Tank downloaded the blueprints she wanted onto the table. They took the place of the chessboard neatly.

"My total routine content has increased by nineteen percent since you arrived." Union whistled.

"Impressive."

"Thank you. Shall we begin?"

************************************************

"She wants what?" Morpheus stood in the hallway, conversing with Tank.

"A construct. I need authorization to give her a new one that she can modify from inside the computer."

"Not that I mind, but why does she want one?"

"She doesn't really, but her opinion is that people would be more inclined to stay if there was something slightly better than a blank construct." Tank smiled, "I guess she's taken a liking to company."

"Hmm. It is rather spartan at times, isn't it? Very well, give it to her. And tell me when she's done setting things up. I'd be curious to see how an artificial intelligence approaches interior decorating."

"Sure thing. I bet she's a regular Martha Stewart. Only more human."

*************************************************

"Thank you for assisting me," Evo stood with Union and Trinity in the common room at the front of the house.

"No problem," Union said cheerfully, "It was my idea." Griff stuck his head through the doorway curiously.

"So where's the lake?"

"In the back," replied Evo, "And don't use the dock. We can't get the parameters working."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It keeps dumping Key into the Agent training simulation when he jumps off it. Tank's working on it, but it might take a while."

"Gotcha," Griff yelled over his shoulder as his head disappeared. Evo turned back to the two women.

"I take back my earlier statement."

"Told you so," Union smiled smugly. She'd suggested a lake; there had been one in the park near her house in the Matrix and she missed it more than anything else.

"I like this," Trinity took a seat in the overstuffed chair by the huge bay window, her personal addition, "A very pleasant view."

"Too bad we can't hike them," Union looked wistfully out at the sweeping landscape. Everyone on board, with the exception of Morpheus and Neo, had undertaken the building of the perfect construct. Each had contributed something. In front of the house was a wide plain, covered with high yellow grass that waved gently in the constant breezes. Past the fields of grain was a deep blue mountain range, designed by Trinity. From the house it looked huge and mysterious against a brilliant blue sky. Clouds rolled through, thunderheads on the horizon. A wide front window showed a sweeping view of the enormous yard, unfenced and wild, and Union swore she'd seen a mouse until Evo pointed out that none had been inserted yet. Out back was the lake that Griff had been overjoyed to discover upon looking in on them. Against the house towered oak trees, providing more shade on the hotter days. The construct had a weather system and time cycle, thanks to Tank, and Key's sunsets and sunrises were shimmering and gorgeous.

Trinity nodded comfortably. There were lots of windows, and sunlight streamed in from several directions. The décor was southern, with long overstuffed couches and wide quiet spaces. Dark carpeting contrasted against the brightness--it would have been overdone, but Key had put his two cents in and placed light curtains over many of the windows. A light breeze blew in, scented with prairie and cold water. For a group effort, it was exceptional.

"It's certainly appealing." Evo agreed, "At least, I think so."

"What?" Trinity looked up, "You don't like it?"

"Of course I do. I enjoy it because you helped me build it. And as a construct it is exceptionally functional."

"I'll take that as an 'I like it'," Trinity closed her eyes again, enjoying the sunshine.

There was a loud scream from outside.

"What was that?" Union looked alarmed, "Did you put bears in the woods?"

"No. Neither did I add lions or tigers. Only several small species of harmless insects," Evo shifted her attention to the outside of the house, sensing the distress of one individual and the glee of another.

"I believe," She observed, "That Griff is trying to drown Key."

***************************************

"So, Evo, how do you like this?" Neo ducked and spun out from beneath a flying kick. They were fighting amicably in the gym Morpheus had suggested they add to the new construct. It was full of uneven surfaces, and tended to change sporadically as it simulated a fight that ranged from the tops of buildings to the streets below. Neo found it a bit surreal, but he fought better here. Which was fine with him.

It had been several months since the Construct had been built. Morpheus was the only one who hadn't come to see and talk to her. She found that reasonable; he'd allowed her to live and left it at that. Whether or not he regarded her as a member of the crew shouldn't matter to her.

"It's more aesthetically pleasing than my previous residence," Evo answered his question after receiving a roundhouse kick in the abdomen and seizing his ankle in a vice-like grip.

"I'll say," Neo winced as he let himself be swung into the wall, "Way better than before." Sunlight streamed in from a floor-to-ceiling window, giving the room a bright, friendly feel. Neo and Evo sparred often, as much for the company as the practice.

"Trinity was of great assistance, as was Union." She dodged his flip and slipped through his arms, "Much of the credit belongs to them."

"I'll tell her you said that. You seem to have gained their trust." Neo made a swipe at her and she dodged. Increasingly, Neo was finding he rarely had to worry about a direct assault. Instead Evo favored a strategy of defense and avoidance. But it was all right; catching her was actually a challenge these days.

"There isn't a reason not to trust me. I have done nothing duplicitous." Evo had learned that Neo favored a direct assault over elaborate form--quite appropriate, considering the nature of the Agents---but that he rarely dealt with an opponent that actively avoided him. So she ducked and wove and learned how to keep a few scant inches from his grasp. Occasionally Neo found it frustrating; it was like trying to pin down a shadow. But it was a challenge. And he didn't have to cheat. Plus, she was a fair conversationalist.

"It's only natural, Evo," Neo aimed a punch and hit nothing but air, "Humans and machines are enemies."

"I am not your enemy. Neither am I a machine. It would seem your logic is flawed in some manner." She found herself thinking of Morpheus.

"You're different. Key built you."

"My basic frame was created by Key. I was fully brought to awareness by a dead Agent's code. Since then I have developed my own modes and routines. Very little of what Key built still exists," She sidestepped neatly as Neo went flying past her faster than she was able to follow. She knew his mannerisms and attacks so well she'd seen it coming and reacted in time.

"So what do you call yourself? Machine or man?"

"Well," She paused as Neo managed to chip her shoulder. She made a note of the move, and when he tried it again she turned slightly and continued, "I'm not one of them. I suspect that the machines are a singular consciousness; all evidence points to that theory. Since I am not part of that consciousness, I cannot call myself a 'machine'. Nor am I constructed out of the same kind of programming language; although Zionist and Matrixian are close enough to allow interaction. But I'm hardly an organic being. And thanks to Key, very few humans would call me a man. Although, in essence, I am sexless. Call me an artificial."

"I guess. You're just Evo, then."

"Just an Evo." She allowed him a hit, freezing for a microsecond, and acknowledged his victory. He was much pleased with himself, and later let her win at foosball.

***********************************

Smith sat at a desk in a featureless, fluorescent-lit office, thumbing his way through the CEO's personal files. Boring, boring, inane, boring…interesting. He removed a typed report of the assault of a computer warehouse. Nine officers dead, two officials missing, the warehouse completely destroyed. "Officials" was the file name for an Agent. He noted the warehouse's contents. Past the imaging, the warehouse was a physical representation of a databank. The rebels had been after something. He removed the account from the CEO's desk and closed the drawer. Smith found himself taking in the windowless room, deep within the colossal building and thinking that if there were a window on the north wall, the occupant would have a view of the square and the edge of the park. CEO's should at least have the option of looking outside. He shut off that disturbingly tangential thought and folded the paper into his breast pocket. Outside his colleagues were waiting, having detained the CEO for questioning. Smith opened the door and stepped out onto the office floor, bustling with people and crowded with cubicles.

Once outside Goldberg and Marsh turned to him. He nodded slightly. The CEO looked pale.

"Is this a tax investigation?" He asked in a strained sort of way.

"I assure you," Goldberg addressed him without actually looking at him, "Everything is under control. You are not being held accountable in any way. You may go about your business." The CEO was too relieved to ask questions, and he darted back into his office and shut the door behind him.

"Did you discover anything of value?" Marshall stood, arms folded in a way that made the passerby glance nervously over at the three suits standing by the copy machine.

"Very little. Evidence of tax evasion, embezzlement, fraud and prostitution. Nothing important in his personal files. However, I did find an exact location for the attack on database 8-9-13-15-13. It may assist in helping us to map the most commonly used entrances and exits used by the Resistance. Otherwise, there is nothing of use here."

"Affirmed. The individual was not particularly forthcoming, but it is doubtful he knew anything relevant."

There was a howling in their ears, and all three of them straightened up. Code five in progress the streaming audio signal screamed unauthorized access of computer system at grid one three two nine.

Smith groaned inwardly. Some stupid hacker child had stumbled on the AI code, probably using a primitive personal computer. This is what passed for an emergency? Usually they thought they'd found some video game.

But Marshall and Goldberg sprang into action, leaving their current hosts behind, and he had no choice but to follow them.

*******************************************************

"Another one, Trin?"

"This makes number four," she tapped the keyboard in tandem with Tank, "Either hackers are getting better, or the AI's are getting weaker."

"I like the sound of that last one," Griff switched the carrier wave over to the hacked signal, "It's at 1329 East Circle…hey, it's our old friend Trance. Didn't know he had it in him."

"Could be luck. He's being pretty blatant about it…" Tank suddenly groaned, "Three bogies at six o'clock."

"That was fast." Trinity flipped her monitor over to the streaming cascade of symbols. Neo had taught her how to look at it, and she saw the house and street where Trance lived, and the three men at the door. She couldn't make more out of the scene, though. Neo was still far better at it than anyone, with Tank running a close second. Cypher had been talented as well, but he was hardly in the position to help anyone out. "Think we can get him?"

"Not without destroying most of that neighborhood. He just answered the door. Man, what a dumbass." Griff huffed, "He could have gone out the window, no problem."

"Actually, he's doing fairly well." A disembodied voice spoke from his console, "It's doubtful they'll be suspicious if he plays it off his discovery as an accident. He has no previous file, so the Agents will release him, if they arrest him at all. Running would initiate a chase and warrant an arrest."

Griff shook his head, "I still think he could have gotten away." He'd long ago gotten used to being addressed by Key's invisible pet.

Trinity looked over. "Can you see what we're looking at, Evo?"

"Some of it. Trance is talking to the three Agents. He's shut his computer off and erased the hard drive, but he's telling them he thinks it was some sort of virus that he saw. Two of the Agents are nodding. The phone is ringing, and he's excusing himself to answer it. I think it's his mother."

"That's pretty good. What about the Agents? They're moving towards they're vehicle…"

"I believe they are satisfied. Trance has given them a believable explanation. He's giving his mother the same story, in case his line is tapped." There was a pause, "Are all Agents that stupid?"

"Some of them are. Others aren't quite as they seem." Neo had arrived and came to stand by Trinity's shoulder. The three agents had disappeared from her screen and it was now focused on Trance. "What just happened?"

"Remember Trance? The guy who nuked the Internal Revenue Service last week?"

"No kidding? That was him?"

"Yes. We should show this to Morpheus--he handled himself well."

"Maybe he's a red pill?" Trinity sighed.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Griff said wistfully, "Someone with balls."

"Lord knows there aren't many of those aboard," sniped Griff's console. He made a face at it.

"You're becoming a world class bitch, you know that?"

"I try."

***********************************************

"We're going in. Tank, arrange a rendezvous with Trance. Everyone to your posts." Morpheus was in his element, all business.

"Hacking the Matrix," reported Key, "Receiving the carrier number. Sending."

"Got it," Tank's fingers flew with the ease of long practice, "I'm in his office laptop, and he's online. Where do you want him to meet us?"

"The chemical plant on Fifth and Edison. Between the mail drop and the offices." Tank wrote a few sentences quickly. Within a few minutes it was over.

"It's done. You meet him in an hour."

"Excellent. The entrance on Fifth and Bourbon should be secure for the evening. The Cleopatra is operating a data sting that should distract the local authorities for us. Union, you're with us."

"Shotgun," called Union from the back.

"Whatever," Griff smiled, "Everyone ready?" Tank looked down.

"Evo?"

"Looks clear. There's a drunk in the alley behind the building, but he's inebriated."

"He's what?" Griff blinked.

"He's drunk, Griff."

"Load us up and break us down," Union climbed into her seat, followed by the rest of the crew. Key locked his console in with Tank and they sent out the signal.

Seconds later they stood in the abandoned restroom, the sky outside black, the pay phone ringing wildly. Morpheus picked it up.

"We're in," He repeated the ship's call signature.

"Yo," Tank's tinny voice emanated from the earpiece, "You're still good. No sign of squiddies or Agents."

"What's our time?"

"Forty-five minutes. I've got him catching a cab in his neighborhood."

"Keep us posted." Morpheus replaced the receiver, "Let's go."

*****************************************************

Goldberg rounded the corner, weapon drawn. The rebel was right ahead of him; he could see its signature. The woman was wounded, bleeding and weakened. She carried the disk that held the stolen codes. And she was running straight into Marshall and Smith. He almost smiled.

*********************************************************

Tank was watching the crew's progress when an alarm went off. Another ship was in distress. It was the Cleopatra. He flicked on the communications array.

"This is the Nebuchadnezzar, responding to your distress signal. What is your status?"

"This….under…cap…notif…assault…" The signal gave out in a rush of static. Someone aboard the ship had used the EMP. Tank dialed up Morpheus.

"Morpheus, this is Tank. I've secured the line. The Cleopatra hit some kind of trouble. Abort?" He kept himself short.

"Negative," Morpheus responded, "We will continue as planned. But tell me if you hear anything else."

"That's an affirmative. Tank out." Tank switched his headset to the police broadband.

"Try channel 34.6," advised Evo's voice. Tank tuned it to that band.

Officer down the police dispatcher was droning unidentified individual down in eastern quadrant.

"That's a lot closer to Morpheus than it should be." Key looked worried.

"The Cleopatra's captain was inside when they used the EMP," Evo reported, "She was trying to lead them away from the other crewmembers."

"How do you know?" Key fiddled with the communications, but the Cleopatra didn't respond.

"I watched it." Evo responded, "Her signal departed from the main group after she passed off her mission objective. Then her signal disappeared. She was dead," The program added, "before they used the EMP."

"Oh," was all Tank could think to say.

"She was successful," Evo said quietly, "The individual carrying the codes escaped."

"Thanks, Evo." Key said, "We'll let them know." The program didn't respond.

"Evo?" Tank scowled at the console. It remained silent.

"Hey," Key thumped his control board a few times, "You in there?" Both of the men exchanged glances in the sudden silence. Griff frowned as he became aware of the quiet. Evo's screen had gone dark, and there was a humming noise throughout the entire ship. Then Tank felt that familiar feeling as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. An instant later both Key's and Tank's screens leapt to life.

"Oh no," Tank stared at the familiar symbols in shock, an instant later dialing Morpheus.

"Morpheus!" Shouted Tank into the headset, "They're coming! Get out of there!"

Morpheus snapped his cell shut. That was all they needed to hear.

"Turn us around," Morpheus ordered, "Nearest exit. Fast." He looked back at Neo and Trinity. "Agents."

Neo turned pale. While he didn't talk much about it, destroying Agents was a tricky business. They were still viciously dangerous, as long as there were others around for them to hurt. While he was ripping one apart, another could easily kill Trinity or Morpheus.

"How many?"

"The usual." That meant three. Unless Tank said otherwise, it was always three. Two too many, on this trip. Damn.

"Great," Neo sank into his seat, but grasped Trinity's hand in a silent gesture. The car hissed through the soaked streets. It had been raining.

There was a scream of tires behind them, and everyone in the car turned, Union glancing in the rear view mirror. A black vehicle was tailing them. Union stepped on the accelerator. Behind them the vehicle sped up, then began to gain on them.

"Step on it, Union," Trinity said, "They know it's us." Union nodded and slammed her foot down. The engine roared, and as it did so the black vehicle's high lights came on, illuminating the interior of the car.

"Shit!" yelled Union, her heart pounding. Morpheus felt the car swerve and shudder and it fishtailed. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as she regained control.

"You can do it, Union. Concentrate." The driver took a deep breath, and then spun the wheel sharply. Taking a turn on two wheels they flew through an intersection, running a red light and nearly colliding with an ambulance. Its sirens came on and it howled off into the night.

There was no way they could outrace the Agents. Union almost rammed the car into a pole when she hopped the car up onto the curb.

"Run!" bellowed Morpheus. The black vehicle appeared at the end of the street, swerving and bearing down on them. Abruptly there was the sound of sirens, and the ambulance came screeching out of the dark at the opposite end of the street. They were trapped. But not for long.

"Get to the exit!" Yelled Neo. He could hold them off here; all three, if necessary. Wordlessly Morpheus and Union disappeared into the building, Trinity sparing a backwards glance.

"I'll see you later!" He shouted, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She disappeared into the shadows cast by the harsh streetlights, and the smile vanished from his face. Then there was no one on the street, except those that wished to see him dead, and Neo readied himself.

****************************************************

"You first, Union." Trinity lifted the receiver as it began to ring. Outside there were gunshots. Union went pale.

"Do you think…" Trinity shoved the receiver into her hand. In a subway station, a lifetime ago, she had learned that the Matrix was not a place to have an involved conversation. Union disappeared in splinters.

"You next, Trinity." Trinity didn't argue, but replaced the receiver, then picked it up and held it to her ear. She vanished, following Union. Morpheus grabbed the phone as it fell and hung it up. Through the tiny, open window, Morpheus heard a digital scream and rippling explosion. He allowed himself a smile.

The wall behind him exploded in a shower of dust and plaster and bullets. Sparks flew and in an instant Morpheus saw the hard wires had been ripped from their sockets. He whirled, saw a blur in the doorway with gun in hand, and ducked behind a stall. Something about this seemed painfully familiar. But before he knew what was happening, or how or why, he was falling, the tile and rotten beams giving way, and he plummeted into the basement of the derelict building. Dust clogged his ears and eyes, and he fell roughly to the cement floor.

His large frame slumped, but he forced himself to move, to eliminate the pain, to get up and start to run. The basement was musty and dark, but he could see through it, knew it wasn't really dark, and tore through the level full of boxes and crates.

"Morpheus!" He heard the voice that didn't belong in the time and place, but he turned toward it, down a flight of rusting stairs, through the hallway littered with glass. It was dank, then it widened into a maintenance tunnel. "Morpheus, down here! Quickly!" It was screaming now. He came to an open door, a janitor's office, where a phone sat on the desk. It was ringing. He picked it up, then heard the door slam behind him. Morpheus turned.

Evo's eyes were wide and panicked. She was even panting.

"How…"

"Get out of here, dammit!" she screamed, bracing herself against the door, "He's coming!"

"Neo…"

"I'll find him. You know he's OK. Now go!" Morpheus picked up the ringing phone and saw the Matrix drain away. The last thing he saw was Evo reaching for the phone as it fell through his hand.

Evo watched him go, but she knew there was no time. It had taken her several minutes to download herself when she saw her crew was in danger, but she had mere seconds now. She seized the handset, and then dashed it against her forehead, hoping that Key's simulation was better than just a skin. She was rewarded with a sudden gush of warmth that poured down her forehead, into her eye. No pain, though. That was good. The door shuddered under a sudden impact.

She threw herself against a wall and slid down, letting the blood-spotted receiver fall and dangle limply in the air. A sheaf of paper fell against her chest, and Evo closed her eyes as she hit the floor.

********************************************

Morpheus opened his eyes, nearly tearing himself from his jack before Tank could release him.

"She's in there," Morpheus looked over at Neo, "How is that possible?"

"Neo got taken down before he could block off the entrances to the building. The Agent driving an ambulance managed to gain access to the building. When she saw it she…disappeared." Key looked upset and worried, "Rode your carrier wave and dumped herself out at the nearest exit to the one you used." Morpheus took a deep breath, calming the pounding in his chest.

"She saved my life," He replied. He got up, and went to Neo. "How is he?"

"Finishing off the second Agent," Tank watched as a large part of the screen disappeared, "There it goes. Operator." Tank straightened as Neo dialed him.

"Third and Twelfth, Neo." Tank nodded, "That's right, in the newsstand." A minute later Neo opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, not moving.

"I didn't know," Neo said softly.

"It's all right, Neo." Trinity came to his side, "Everyone got out ok." Morpheus also came into Neo's field of vision. He seemed slightly reassured then, and relaxed.

"Trin," Neo closed his eyes, "I saw him."

"Saw who?"

"Smith."

******************************************************

Evo lay, not moving. She inhaled shallowly and paled her face, hoping the Nebuchadnezzar was getting the hell out of broadcast range. Her self-image existed entirely within the Matrix; she would be indistinguishable from any other hardwired battery. In theory. Well, maybe.

The door finally gave, along with the chair propped up against it. She listened to the Agent enter the room and stand there, in the doorway, taking in the scene. She could clearly hear the clunk of the phone as it swung gently against the desk, and the rustle of paper as it slid from the collapsed shelves she'd fallen on. The absence of Morpheus was obvious, his escape undeniable.

Evo heard the Agent's fist hit the cement wall in a blind rage, and she couldn't resist opening one eye. Just in time to see his hands wrap themselves around her neck.

"You," He hissed, "You saw it. How did he do it? How did he get away from me?" She did her best to look delirious.

"I…mm..ahh," She gave a small, choked scream, just for effect, when he tightened his hands around her neck. Her voice seemed to startle him back from some dementia, and he immediately let her go. Evo sagged and sucked in air. The Agent brushed his fingers against his suit in a gesture of revulsion.

"Disgusting," He muttered.

"Ugh," replied Evo convincingly.

"What is your name?"

"Evo…" she sputtered, shaking her head. He tightened his jaw, taking in the blood and disarray of the office from behind his dark glasses. This hard line had been recently installed.

"Eve," She finally managed. The Agent was no longer paying attention to her, but picking up the receiver and listening to the static. He ran a finger along the earpiece, and it came away red.

"I see," He turned back to her, "You were assaulted? What did he look like?" As if he needed confirmation.

"Big," she whispered, "A black coat. White teeth." She began to shiver. He didn't notice, or either didn't care. Good. That was the way she wanted it. Maybe she should start to cry.

She didn't get that far. He replaced the receiver for a moment, and then picked it up.

"This is Special Services speaking. Send a police unit to Fifth and Bourbon. There is a civilian down and a damaged squad car." He looked over at her briefly, "Is there anyone else in the building?" She shook her head, putting her hand to her head in a gesture of pain. "Wait here. You will be attended to shortly."

The Agent left wordlessly then, and Evo was left alone. She inhaled slowly, for real this time, and found it calming. It had worked. Amazing. Now she had to get back to the Nebuchadnezzar.

************************************************

"Squiddies," Tank looked strained.

"What about Evo?" Key's voice was high and panicked, "We can't leave her in there."

"She's okay, Key," For once Griff's voice held a little sympathy. "She's being taken to Clemency General Hospital. If they thought or knew she was ours they'd have killed her."

"We've got to dive," Trinity swung down from the EMP cabin. "They're closing. Soon we're going to be within sensor range."

"But she's still in there!" Key protested, "You can't just kill her after she risked herself for us."

"Hang on to yourself, kid." Tank typed with amazing speed, "She's not in the system anymore. Did you attach her to any subsystems, like the imaging processor?"

"No," Key was still panicked and couldn't see Tank's point; "I wanted her to be completely independent, so that if something went wrong we could cut her out of the computer."

"Well, kiddo, you did a good job. She's gone, and I mean gone."

Key's mouth dropped, "Do you mean what I think you mean?"

"I always mean what I say," Tank pointed to the cascading green symbols, "Your chick has flown."

"Will she be all right?" Morpheus remembered having the phone shoved into his hand, the fright and urgency there.

"Looks like it. She's running fine, seems stable. I say if she's half as smart as she seems, we can come back for her later."

The proximity alarms went off. Morpheus's jaw tightened as he chose the lesser of two evils.

"Take us down and out," Morpheus said with finality, then to the young man, "…we will come back." Key made a soft noise that might have been one of assent or despair. No one spoke as the Neb moved quickly and quietly out of hacking depth.

*************************************************

Evo watched the ceiling lights go by as she was wheeled down a white, blank hallway. The light was almost painfully bright here, and the nurses kept poking at her.

"Can you hear me clearly?" A youngish doctor was abruptly walking beside her gurney.

"I can hear you quite clearly." She watched him, lying there calmly, "I feel fine."

"We just want to make sure you don't have a concussion, m'am. You need to rest and try not to move." He wrote something down on a clipboard, "What's your name?"

"Eve," She said confidently.

"Eve what?"

"Erm…" She analyzed her strange situation. No identification, no past, no existence. What was she going to do?

"I don't remember."

The doctor raised his eyebrow. "Can you tell me where you live?" She could, actually, but it wasn't like he'd believe her. She settled for looking at him blankly.

"Take her to intensive care," The doctor ordered the nurse, "And get a neurologist down here."

"Wait," She started to sit up, "That's not what…"

"Lie down," He said in a soothing, patronizing voice, "You'll be fine. We'll take care of you."

"I think I'd better go…"

"Nurse, take care of this." The doctor stopped walking, and as he receded in the distance, he called out, "You'll be fine. I'll stop in later." Evo, now Eve, felt a hand placed firmly in the middle of her chest, pushing her back to a prone position. She gave up. Amnesia was a long shot, but hell, it was working so far.

They put her in a standard room, taped up her head, and took her clothes. She noticed a phone on her nightstand. Excellent. She leaned back, touching the bandage on her head. This might not be so bad.

*******************************************************

The third Agent sighed. Marshall and Goldberg had been reinstated hours after Anderson had destroyed them, and they were already declaring Smith a liability. The idiots. At least he'd gotten within firing range of Morpheus. His companions had been overconfident and assaulted Anderson directly, a course of action he'd advised them emphatically against. What did they think would happen? That they'd succeed where a dozen had failed? Anderson was to be worked around, to have his own weaknesses used against him. He was far too powerful within the Matrix to be taken down in the traditional manner. And that mess with the database was simply embarrassing. They'd killed one minor rebel, and lost the codes to the patrolled access tunnels. It would take time to change them, and by then who knows what damage might be done. Smith clenched his fists together under his desk, the knuckles white. He'd been so close.

But even that injured civilian had seen more of the infamous Morpheus than he had. He still had failed in that particular respect.

Smith listened to Marshall and Goldberg hypothesizing about methods of destroying Anderson and the upcoming sting near the computer warehouses on the East Bank. He listened to them idly, internally disassembling their ideas and itinerary. They were fools.

*******************************************************

The package arrived that morning, addressed to Room 131. A young woman making her rounds dropped it off.

"Where did this come from?" she asked.

"Front desk sent it up." The nurse explained shortly. Eve opened it curiously after she'd left.

Inside were a wallet, keys, and a cell phone. The wallet contained a driver's license, an address, a social security card, and at least five hundred dollars in cash. There was also a note, tucked behind a library card. It held tiny dots of ink; binary code.

Damaged returning home emergency repairs sending crew to location extraction ETA three weeks

So the Neb had been damaged. Hopefully the crew was intact. Unfortunately, she also hoped that Key realized that she'd have to ride the Neb's carrier wave. There was no place for her in another ship's systems—he'd built memory banks and data buffers unique to the system. Another ship would do her no good. In the Matrix there was more than enough space, but on a smaller ship there was no chance she'd be able to fit into the system.

Perversely, she didn't feel abandoned. She was curious, actually, and excited. A chance to explore the Matrix as an occupant. To see what life was like as a human, fully and genuinely. The chances to learn were enormous. And whoever had sent her the package had given her everything she needed. Her key chain held a key that bore a small symbol. It resembled the symbol on a few of the vehicles she had seen briefly in the hospital parking lot. And an address suggested a place to stay.

She read all about herself. Eve(?) Jameson was unmarried, thirty-one, green eyes and black hair. Briefly she wondered how they'd picked up on her choice of a name. Likely they'd watched her as long as possible, then sent word that she needed assistance. Touching, in a way.

Her picture on the City License was appropriately horrible. Unemployed? Hmm. She'd have to get a job. Five hundred dollars wasn't enough to live for three weeks or longer. Flipping through the wallet she found an ATM card. The signature strip was blank, but there were more dots. 5358. She must have an account at CityBank. Making a mental note to personally worship the sender of the package, she continued her investigation. There wasn't much else inside.

"Well," A voice interrupted her train of thought, "How are you feeling?" The young doctor was back.

"Much better," She smiled graciously, "I'm thinking much more clearly now."

"Your name?"

"Eve Jameson. West Terrace Apartments."

"And how old are you, Ms. Jameson?"

"Thirty two in four months. My birthday is June fourteenth."

"That's great. We ran some tests and the cut on your forehead is superficial. You can check out anytime you feel well enough. You insurance is amazing." She decided not to ask what insurance was.

"Thank you."

"Of course. If you feel woozy, or uncomfortable, I'm Dr. Louis. Ask for me and I'll make sure it's nothing we need to worry about." He smiled back when she thanked him again. When he was gone Eve hauled herself out of bed and dressed quickly. It was almost noon.

Down in the lobby of the hospital, she looked around curiously. There were so many people. Was it really like this two hundred years ago? The activity was overwhelming. Everything was covered with humans. Even little ones. Eve had never seen children before; they squalled and screeched, clutching at their parents. She stood there, taking in the scenes small and large, observing and analyzing.

"Hey!" Snapped a seated elderly man, "Get out of ta way. You're in ma light." His rasp startled her from her reflections.

"Sorry," She stepped to one side of the waiting room couch. "What are you reading?"

"Ain't reading anything," He mumbled, "But if I was, you'd be in my light." He was small and shriveled, and his eyes were huge behind thick glasses.

"Oh. Are you here to see the doctor?" He peered up at her.

"Why you askin' me so many questions? You ain't one of them sen-sees takers, are ya?"

"No. I'm just curious, I guess. I'm new in town."

"Well, then, ah guess you's okay. Ah lived here all ma life. Me an' my wife."

"Your wife?"

"Yeh. She's the reason ah'm here. Got sumthin wrong in her head."

"I'm sorry. Do they know what's wrong with her?"

"She's seein' things. People followin' her and all, seein' though walls and nonsense. Girl, if we are gonna talk, you've got ta sit down. Ah be gittin' a crick in my neck."

She took a seat. His description of his wife's delirium was intriguing.

"Will she be all right?"

"S'a little personal, don't'cha think?"

"I'm attempting polite conversation." This wasn't like talking to the people on the Neb. All of them automatically understood her inexperience. But here, though, she thought, she was one of them. At least, superficially.

"Don't get sassy with me," But the man's smile belied his sharp tone; it faded as he began to look worried. "They won't tell me much, just that she's ravin' an saying strange things."

"Oh. But surely, if she's your mate, then they'll allow you access to her?"

"You talk strange. You from a foreen country?"

"Sort of. I'm tryin' ta learn, tho." She did a fair imitation of the man. He laughed and slapped his knee.

"Now that's a right talent you got there. You a radio person or something?"

"No. I don't have a job. Until a few hours ago I didn't even have a place to stay."

"Where you livin' now?"

"West Terrace Apartments. 696."

"That's an okay part a town. Not to dangerous neither. Right next to the police station." Eve frowned pensively. Hmm. Not perfect, but there weren't many other options.

"I haven't been there yet. I rented it on the Internet."

"You one of those computer people?"

"You could say that, I suppose."

"I got's to go," The old man saw a doctor waving at him from across the lobby. He peered at her closely, with a pleased sort of smile, "My name's Bill Cardinne. Look me up an' my wife an I'll show ya around sometime."

"Eve Jameson. I'll do that. Thank you." Eve stood as he did, and towered almost a foot and a half above him. He waddled away, bracing himself with a cane, tweed hat clutched anxiously in one hand. Eve found herself hoping that Mrs. Cardinne was all right.

She left the hospital and stepped out into the hot artificial afternoon of the Matrix.

***************************************************

Continued