Disclaimer: The Wachowski Brothers, Warner Brothers, Joel Silver, and any number of other people own the rights to The Matrix and any and all related characters/content. Not me. For the purposes of this chapter (and any other chapter that mentions it) I will mention that I also do not own Abe the Mudoken. Oddworld Inhabitants and Lorne Lanning own him along with all Oddworld games and all related characters/content.


Back at home that night, Christopher set to work debugging his computer. He was more determined than ever to find the cause of the glitch in his animation. He had convinced himself that the answer to his "surveillance" problem had something to do with the animation glitch. Somewhere around the halfway point, he wasn't sure exactly when, Christopher fell asleep at his desk. The No-Doze was no match for sheer exhaustion.

He dreamed a different dream this time. He still saw the pods, and himself inside one of the pods, but this time his pod-self woke up. Christopher's dreaming self watched his pod self sit up suddenly, ripping through some sort of membrane that held him and the pink goo in the pod. He saw his pod-self pull a breathing tube from his throat and saw all the wires suddenly, explosively, disconnect themselves. Christopher's dreaming self felt elated at this sight, silently cheering himself on. Too soon, however, the suffocating feeling returned. The electrical pulses began rippling through his body and he struggled to wake up. And, inevitably, the final strong electric pulse ripped through his body and he woke in his bed crying.

Wait a minute, he thought as he tried to compose himself, I…I was at my desk. I never went to bed. I was at my desk, debugging my computer.

He sat up suddenly and frantically glanced at his computer. There was nothing on his screen: No test programs running, no system report, not so much as the instant messaging program he used. It was as if he hadn't used his computer all night. He sat back against his pillow staring at the screen, considering what this could mean. Slowly, he got out of bed and walked to the computer. He flicked through his program files, searching for his Hong Kong animation. It wasn't there. Not only was it not there, but there was absolutely no trace of it left on the hard drive.

Christopher pushed himself away from the desk in disbelief. Had he dreamed the whole thing? He had to be honest with himself; he hadn't slept well in months and had been living on No-Doze for most of that time. Maybe he had fallen into some kind of dream or something…

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had created that cartoon. Christopher felt like he was on the verge of a really important realization when he suddenly found himself so drowsy he couldn't fight the urge to lie down and sleep. As if he were a robot obeying its programming, he lay back down in his bed and was asleep almost before he hit the pillow.

--

Across the city, the woman sighed to herself. So that's the game they want to play, she thought. Well, let them. I've still planted the seed in his head. I can only hope he figures out what to do with it.

She felt that the time was right to begin the next (and final) phase of her plan. She sat at her kitchen table and slowly…deliberately…lit a cigarette. As she blew the smoke from her lungs, the code around her rippled and a website was created. Another puff, another ripple in the code, and Christopher's computer opened a web browser of its own accord and surfed to the newly created website. She smiled and crossed her legs. That would be her final manipulation. She had given Christopher the necessary information in both the book and the website. Now all she could do was wait…and hope.

--

In another part of the city, three garbage men talked to one another about various conquests of the opposite sex as they tossed the day's refuse into the compactor. Suddenly, simultaneously, the three of them contorted their faces into silent screams of sheer pain and abject terror. Their bodies began to jump and shift, as if they were on a television with bad reception. After a moment, their bodies suddenly morphed into three men in black suits and ties. Each of them had short, brown hair and wore dark glasses. Each had an earpiece connected to a wire in their right ear. They stood for a moment, regarding one another.

"Why have we been summoned?"

"Someone is tampering with the code."

"Who could possibly be tampering with the code?"

"A rogue program."

"We must find the program."

"No. First we must find the one for whom the program is manipulating the code."

"Who are we looking for?"

"Christopher Inizio. Also known as Abe the Mudoken. 1024 Chittenden Place."

"Let's go."


This is actually turning into alot of fun to write. The little, subtle things are what makes it fun...like his online handle. I wonder if anyone caught that. His last name too...lol. Hope you're enjoying so far and believe me...some action is coming I promise. I just have to get there first.