Months later…

A small group of rebels made their way towards the exit, not bothering to check on the progress of 'the One' who trailed behind them. These days Neo was more of a liability than anything else. While his abilities within the Matrix were unchanged he seemed to have grown reluctant to use them, especially when faced with Agents. Oddly enough this was compounded by the appearance of female Agents, who appeared to be based on the template of a brunette with startling blue eyes. When encountered such female Agents appeared to be even more deadly than their male counterparts. Of course the fact that 'the One' would freeze and stare at them dumbfounded wasn't helping the rebels either.

The first time that a female Agent had fallen to a barrage of rebel fire Neo had been dragged back into the real world in a state of shock. He'd spent days curled up in a fetal position on his bunk, muttering "she's dead" over and over again. Even Trinity hadn't been able to get through to him, though finally she was able to make out a name, "Setsuka", though it didn't mean anything to any of the rebels. And anyone who suspected that it was the name of the woman that Neo had been seen with a few months ago was too discreet to mention it. Besides, they'd already heard Neo's strange theory that Agents were capable of betraying the system.

As they made slow progress towards the exit, Neo found himself thinking over the dreaded 'what if' again. It was what he did most of the time now.

He knew that the others through he was more than a little crazy to object to fighting these female Agents and despite some gentle ribbing it wasn't some flawed concept of chivalry that made him pause either. It was, he acknowledged, hope. The simple, stupid hope that the next time it wouldn't be a replica, a copy, that the next time it would be her. That the next time he'd be able to save her.

Maybe he was crazy after all.

The rebels showed up as blips on a monitor, at odds with the rest of the system. Agent Smith glared at the screen, knowing that as per usual they would be forbidden to interfere. It grated, that the longest serving field unit should be denied the chance to deal out justice to the rebels. But then perhaps it was necessary now, Smith was aware that his reboot had been sudden. He had been informed that it was due to extenuating circumstances, though what those circumstances were he couldn't remember and wasn't told. What little memory that he had left of the time between having his original template damaged by Anderson and being rebooted was hazy at best. Smith was also sure that it was assumed that he had no memory of that period and he suspected that it would be wise not to raise the issue.

Alongside him, Brown and Jones had been rebooted for the sake of interface continuity, or so they had been told. Though neither mentioned the subject, Smith was sure that they also remembered far more that they were supposed to.

For his part Smith remembered odd flashes; being carried by Jones because for some reason he couldn't walk, Brown's nervousness as he obeyed an order that seemed to consist of removing his hardwire, being kissed by the human 'Anderson'…

Being kissed by the human 'Anderson'!

Smith sat up straighter in his chair, blinking in surprise. Why would the human do something like that? More importantly, why would he allow the human to do something like that? He did have fantasies about the human, Smith would readily admit that, fantasies that involved his boot and the side of Anderson's skull caving in; and they went downhill from there. So what was it that he was remembering?

Turning back to the monitor Smith began to search for the required information, information pertaining to the introduction of female shells for the Agents and the various hypotheses regarding accumulated mutations in active Agents.

Jones sat quietly behind the other desk in the room, watching Smith run his various searches and Brown reading opposite. He wondered what Smith was looking for but he wasn't going to ask. It was most likely something to do with the time that had been erased. Jones studied Smith's hands as they swept across the keys with their synthetic long-fingered grace. Beautiful, would be the word to describe it. Jones wondered at his sentiment briefly but found that it felt strangely familiar, as if he had thought the same thing before. And why would he think such a think?

Jones pondered that abstractly. He didn't entertain the same insecurities that a human might have about being in the same situation; gender wasn't something that Agents really considered. As far as they were concerned, they were Agents and that was all. Recently some of them had been ordered to take on a female appearance but that was only because it seemed to provide some sort of strategic advantage, especially when facing the human 'Anderson'. Jones couldn't think why, though he found that he was of the opinion that none of the current 'female' Agents would be worthy of a comparison to Smith… in either form.

He frowned, not understanding where that particular though had come from or why it seemed that he had felt that way before. Trying to picture Smith in a female form conjured up a surprisingly vivid image; delicate trails of water sliding down her pale skin, long hair damp, clinging to her flesh, soft lips parted…

Jones swallowed uneasily. The image didn't seem like a fantasy, more like a memory. That he'd been allowed to gaze upon such perfection and had not been permitted to touch… It was exquisite torture that he could remember; that he'd been made to forget.

Sitting opposite Smith, hiding behind his book, Brown observed Jones observing Smith. Something stirred in his memory of a similar situation. Jones watching Smith with that same intensity, that same possessiveness. He felt a flash of irrational jealousy but it was gone as soon as he could think to analyze it.

They'd been rebooted; all of them for the sake of interface continuity. Brown didn't know if that sounded as much like a hollow excuse to the others as it did to him. They'd done something, in that missing year, something that caused the rebels to falter, that had damaged Anderson somehow and yet, it was also something that had they had been required to forget. That didn't make sense to Brown. What was it that could have damaged the rebels so much while also being a detriment to the system, if they remembered?

For some reason Brown found himself thinking of the unfortunate Agents Hugh and Jackson, with their accumulated mutations and ensuing insanity. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd come too close to ending up like that during their missing time. In which case he supposed that he should be thankful for the reset. After all, what could be worse than an Agent who had 'evolved' into something other than that which he was meant to be?

A year later…

Neo made his way silently along the deserted street, looking over his shoulder every so often, checking for pursuit. Though he was more worried about the rebels catching him on this unauthorized excursion into the Matrix, than the Agents. Yet it was worth the risk or so he thought.

After all this time, searching for so very long he had found her. This time he would be able to save her, of that he was sure. And it would be worth everything, the distrust of the other rebels, the continuing threat from the machines, everything he had sacrificed to find her again…

The sentinels where maneuvering into place, to strike the rebel ship that they'd detected a signal from. Brown spared the report a brief flicker of his attention as he made his way along the corridor towards the room when the others were waiting. They'd done a lot of waiting recently, for almost a year now. Brown wondered if it was to make up for the year that they'd lost before the reboot.

Entering the room Brown could only stare at the sight before him. Jones clasping a female Agent close, his mouth seemingly welded to hers. Brown's analytical processes seemed to grind to a halt as he stared at the oddly familiar Agent. Then memory triggered. Setsuka. It was Setsuka that Jones held in his arms.

As if noticing his presence Setsuka stepped out of Jones' arms, turning her sly smile on him.

"Are the sentinels in place?"

"Yes." Brown replied quietly, as the missing memories began to reintegrate with his conscious mind.

"Good." Her smile broadened.

Brown watched as she turned to pick up something from a nearby table. It turned out to be what looked to be an antique katana.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an assignment to fulfill."

They could only watch as she left the room.

"Jones?" Brown began.

He received only a raised eyebrow in reply.

Brown shook his head, he supposed he couldn't criticize Jones for his actions, not really.

Standing over Anderson's decapitated corpse, Smith had reverted to his male form. Everything had worked out quite well as far as he could see. The sentinels had destroyed the ship occupied by the One and his companions, killing him in the real world; while Smith had carried out his duty inside the Matrix, so that Anderson would not be given the chance to utilize his abilities to save himself.

Anderson had served his purpose, had spent a year pining for a blurred facsimile of a woman and thus weakening the belief of the rebels, their resolve.

That would be their undoing.

The most amusing part, he supposed, was the look of surprise on Anderson's face; as if he'd never expected to die, as if he'd thought that pointless freedom would be all that anyone, human or machine could ever want.

"Red pill or blue pill, Neo?" Smith addressed the empty shell on the ground, before looking up with a rueful smile. "There is no red pill."

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The End

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Like I mentioned before I think I ran out of steam towards the end so here's the ending, only a little different from the way I envisioned it.

I'd been toying with letting Neo live but my Agent muses didn't like that idea, so this is what happened instead and I'm not going to speculate on any way that Neo might have been able to save himself due to his abilities. I'll leave that to authors more sympathetic to his cause.

Narsus

07:06, 08/02/03