Meeting Friends

Bold is movie lines.


"Neo? Neo, wake up!"

I jumped. "What is it, woman?"

She stared. "Neo? Your eyes are blue, Neo."

The memories flooded back to me. "I'm not Neo. Neo . . . Neo is dead. I'm just an Exile who tried to save him."

"You mean a rebel?"

"No, an Exile–a turncoat program. I am . . . obsolete, I was supposed to be deleted. I took his place when he got shot. Fought the agents."

She gulped. "Fuck!"

"What is it?" asked a man, coming in. I recognized him–Morpheus.

"Neo . . . Neo got shot."

"Is he okay?"

"I doubt it."

Morpheus blinked. "Huh?"

"This isn't him. It's a man who was helping him. Neo . . . I think he died, Morpheus. He died and this guy jacked out using his body, so he could tell us."

Morpheus choked. "H-how is that possible? Who are you?" he added, turning to me.

I smiled sadly. "Call me Virus."

"What was your old name?"

I winced. "Everything that has a beginning has an end, Morpheus. My old name has ended."

Morpheus frowned. "How do you know my name?"

"Look at my eyes," I replied. "You know them."

He gasped.

"I don't understand," said the woman.

"The licence plate of your matrix car is IS5416," said the man at the computer, who I hadn't really noticed before."King James Bible Isaiah 54:16."

I nodded. "Behold, I have created the smith that bloweth the coals in the fire, and that bringeth forth an instrument for his work; and I have created the waster to destroy."

"Smith!"

"Yes, Trinity, Smith." The man gave me a nervous smile. "Welcome to the real world, Mr. Smith. I'm Link."

"Pleased to meet you." I stood up. "A bit grungy in here, isn't it?"

"It will be better when the war ends," he replied.

"Yes, when we're all old and gray." I shook my head. "You could win far faster if you simply joined forces with the Exiles, you know that? And not just Mother, but the Merovingian as well."

"Mother?" Trinity asked.

"The Oracle. She's one of the first–and a the designer of the Matrix." I sighed. "She was only trying to help, though. She's always trying to help. Poor, silly old woman, always so well-intentioned and never successful."

They thought about this idea.

Morpheus nodded. "I will see what I can do." He smiled and added. "I like the rebel name you've chosen, Smith. It seems appropriate, somehow."

I laughed. "You have no idea."