Chapter 2
Nearly hundred years later…
It was another rainy Friday Night at the agency. Uncharacteristically lazy Agent Jackson sat slumped back in a sofa, zapping between the TV channels.
"What's on the tube tonight?'" His long-term colleague, agent Thompson, asked from his spot at the window.
"The usual. Alas Smith and Jones, Mr Smith Goes to Washington, Mr and Mrs Smith, Numb3rs…"
The cell phone beside him beeped and began to ring. Jackson picked it up and answered. After a moment, he covered the earpiece and glanced at Thompson.
"It's Johnson. Rebels tracked to one of the Exile leader's premises. We are delegated to find them and destroy them."
"Order accepted." Thompson clattered with the car keys. "La Vrei, it is." They stood up and went for their car parked outside.
"But this long-lasting tyranny was about to crumble for a dawning-"
The sound of fists slamming the door to splinters cut off Morpheus' reading. The small group around him froze when the door buckled in its hinges, and lastly crashed open.
An awkward silence settled as Agents Thompson and Jackson emerged from the rubble, grim expressions on their faces. Thompson straightened his tie, brushed some dust off his jacket and reached for his gun.
"Hold it!" Persephone put up her well-manicured hand in a warning.
"You boys seem to be some capable fellows, aren't you? Strong, smart…" She put her fingertips together, resting her chin upon them in a sense of relaxed omniscience. "But there's just a tiny little detail amiss. Do you know what that is, Thompson?"
Thompson's expression softened a shade of a hint, though he tried to maintain some dignity by keeping his sunglasses on. Persephone shifted her attention to his colleague.
"Do you know what upgrades you lack, Jackson?"
The Agent looked introspective. "...Cultivation?"
"Not a bad guess!" Persephone said in a manner that let them understand the answer could be anything. She gestured towards Morpheus. "So - why not join the book club right here? Certainly you will be… tender enough for me afterwards." With a bat of her eyelashes and a flirtatious eyeblink aimed at the Agents, she left the room. Merovingian shot up from his seat, rushing after his wife.
'''Sephone!'' And his speech was indignant, blunt at the edges and missing several syllables. '' 'Ow dare you, 'tray me right under my nose!''
Meanwhile, the two Agents pounced at the book circle.
"She winked at me!"
"No, me! You could not be educated to save yourself!"
"I call dibs on this chair, bug!"
Many landed punches later, they sat among the confused kids, smiling expectantly. Morpheus's upper lip twitched to bare his teeth, clearly showing his displeasure with having two Agents watching him greedily. At last he managed to shake his unease off, considering it was Persephone they wanted and not the rebels this time. Picking up the book again, he read the next part of the story to his listeners.
From the day Smith took over, the Matrix fell into a state of slow decay. King Smith spent hs century lazily slumped on the throne, popping Non-stop caramels and skimming through a volume of Novels with a purpose, believing he was safe now when the true heir of the kingdom lay, as the program presumed, long dead from starvation upstairs. It was late in the afternoon, so much did he know, but with the careless life he lived (not even bothering to open the calendars the federal post office sent out) he'd lost his track of time.
If the program had been as mindful as in the past, he would have noticed that it was September 13th, 2106. The firewalls ceased to update, and by nightfall they would be down at 80 percent of their normal capacity. Now only a royal female, daring enough to fight the thousands of Smiths inside the castle, had to come by.
It would be a shame to say nobody had tried to free The One in the past: Princess Tyndall of Construct, Queen Pace of Source and Lady Switch of Nebuchadnezzar, to name just a few. All of them tried and failed, because the firewalls served too great obstacles.
Of course, that was before lady Trinity of Zion came racing along the abandoned road on her night-black Ducati.
Raised with computer hacking, combat training and driving lessons, by the age of thirty-four lady Trinity was not only a levelheaded, courageous and skilled woman, but also the future leader of Zion. While ruthless to her and Zion's foes, she was warm-hearted toward her friends, always ready to help those who needed it. Perhaps she wasn't acting fully as demure as people thought real princesses should, but the real world required a different kind of female leader than what fairytales usually offer you.
She stopped by a shabby gas station to tank up. While she searched her wallet for even money, the woman behind the counter peered intently at her.
"Forgive my curiosity, but aren't you the princess of Zion?"
"Affirmative," Trinity acknowledged and handed over a five dollar-bill.
"Then you're out to try and free The One, aren't you?"
Trinity raised an eyebrow. "The One who?"
The woman clapped her hans together, "Why, Neo! The One, heir of the kingdom! He's been asleep for almost a hundred years now." The woman leaned closer and lowered her voice "It's said that he is wonderfully handsome, and-" Now her face was mere inches from Trinity's "- still unmarried when the curse fell upon him. It's rumored that he's got the prettiest eyes in the country. Imagine to return home with a man like that by your side, eh?" She raised her eyebrows meaningly.
Trinity was sceptical though. "Hasn't anyone tried to wake him up?"
The woman nodded, "And failed. For your own safety, I suggest you give it a miss. You see, everyone who has tried so far has died a painful death. The castle is full of doors leading into nowhere, floors that vanish into thin air, stone walls that materialize right on top of one…and of course King Smith's clones. You get the deal."
Trinity hesitated only a fraction of a second.
"How do I get there?"
The sun was setting when Trinity pulled onto the road again. Everything glared in cupper red; the treetops, her leather jacket, the chrome details on the bike handle. Eager to reach the castle, Trinity hustled her way through the overgrown drive way.
However, two-hundred yards from her final destination the bike suddenly plunged into an invisible barrier. Unlike many other brave men and women, Trinity survived her slam into the unseen wall simply by using her arms as a front bumper. Getting up, she inspected what little was to be seen.
"Damn firewalls. Well, this one shouldn't be too difficult…" Trinity ran her gloved hand along the barrier, deciding it was more fragile than usual, and picked out her cell phone. Calling a number back in Zion, she waited impatiently.
"Royal Warrant Link."
"Link, I need a firewall hacking program and a keyboard."
"Sure thing, m'lady." The person at the other end of the line shuffled with something that sounded like a stack of computers descs. "One keyboard-"
The object materialized by her feet.
"-Plus a firewall hacking program, served up hot!"
For a brief second, Trinity felt like her synapses were cooked, and she gripped the phone tighter. But the sensation eased within a moment.
"Thanks Link, I think that will do." Hanging up, she went to work.
Firewall by firewall broke down for the Zion lady's commandos; sometimes flames blazed up when they vaporized, and she got in a hurry to move the bike. Other times giant iron spikes shot out of earth and nearly impaled both tires and passenger. But at the end of the day Trinity made it to the castle's front lawn alive - only to discover that the heavy oak doors were locked.
But you don't give up after reaching as far as the lady of Zion had done. Instead she climbed back on her motorcycle, took aim on a ground-level window and revved the engine. White exhaust fumes arose when she kicked off in 70 mph, streamlined-
Glass burst under the front wheel and drizzled down on the stone floor like rain, and in the midst of it all the equipage swerved through powdered plaster and mortar. The bike thundered forward until Trinity braked; Finally she was inside the castle.
The odd feeling of to have sunk in an icy winter-lake came over her. Faint green light bathed the room, radiated by a neon sign that read Club Hel. The air was musty, but the strangest of all were the people inside. Like seaweed in swells they swayed back and forth, soundless save for the...
"Snoring?" And now Trinity saw everything clearly. They were asleep, but crammed so close together that none had place to stretch out. Everytime somebody leaned over a little too much, their neighbouring sleepers must follow the move.
It was a bit hypnotic to watch this slow dance. Trinity shook her head, climbed off the motorcycle and began exploring the castle halls.
On a chair inside the oak entrance sat a peculiar man, slumped over like a clasp-knife with dozens and dozens of keys hanging in chains around his waist. Trinity leaned down and detached every key that seemed meant for indoors use.
On some of them stood written things such as 'bathroom', 'kitchen', 'livingroom', and one said 'a little bit of everything'. Fastening the chain around her elbow, the Zion lady began her quest.
She went through bedrooms, cabinets and conference halls. She opened doors, closed them…
- Morpheus noticed the children's impatient faces, and decided to skip a few lines:
''… When suddenly Smith-clone 28 exited a nearby restroom!''
Morgane: And Trinity's in! We're leaving you with a - well, not so mean cliffhanger until next chapter. See you then !
