Before I begin today's Gamma short, I have to explain a few things. First off: I do not own the concept or any part of the Matrix except for Gamma and Rogers. The concept of the Debugger belongs to my good friend Mike, the Suburban Legend. On to the other things that need explaining.

Project: Omega created Agent Omega, the first female Agent. Omega seemed stable, then went rogue and dropped off all scanners. I can't tell you what else I know because then Mike would hunt me down and kill me with a meterstick.

The Debugger: It shouldn't take you long to figure this out. He's a program that fixes other programs. Experimental programs like Gamma are scheduled to see the Debugger every 1000 cycles. (1000 cycles = about a month) Gamma DETESTS seeing the Debugger, as he tends to toy with her emotive processes, which makes her paranoid when she reawakens. Regular Agents go to the Debugger every 6000 cycles, and mass-produced programs every 12000.

The setting of this short is before the last one by approximately six months. It is meant to give you a better idea of who the hell these two characters are. Hope you enjoy!

~dellzini the magnificent

**********

"Can I have a cookie?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't need one."

"You're mean."

"Try to focus, Gamma."

"There's nothing to focus ON, Rogers!"

Agents Gamma and Rogers had no specific assignment for once, and Gamma was, as usual, attempting to make good of her temporary freedom. Rogers was simply spoiling her fun.

She tried again. "Come on, Rogers. We've got nothing to do. Lets go to Starbucks and get some coffee or something."

"You know I don't trust Starbucks." Rogers scowled slightly, the expression flitting across his stone-carved face like a shadow. "They have such second-rate programming in their coffee."

"Bah. I just want a mocha frappuccino. Those things are good." The female Agent rubbed her right eye, and the silver streak next to it glinted in the sun. "Besides, there can be such interesting people inside a Starbucks."

Rogers scowled again, this time more noticeably. "You shouldn't be consorting with humans. It's indecent."

Rogers looked the typical Agent, about six feet tall, straight, short brown hair, sunglasses, and a black suit. Inside the jacket were two semiautomatic handguns, standard Agent side arms. The only things that set Rogers apart from his Agent brethren were his striking blue eyes and the tiny silver dot in the corner of his right eye, in the same position as Gamma's streak.

He was, in fact, not a real Agent. The original Agent named Rogers had long since been terminated, his basic code kept around for reference. After the deep failure that was Project: Omega, it was decided that the new Agents that would be created in Project: Gamma would need chaperones.

Gamma 1.0 never functioned properly, and was terminated almost instantly.

Gamma 2.0 worked relatively well. A partner Agent was designed for her; also based after the original Rogers code. However, Gamma 2.0 proved to be unstable, and before she could be terminated she killed herself and her partner.

Gamma 3.14 was the first of the three that was at all effective. Agent Rogers was revived a second time with a few advances to his code. The silver dot was a way of connecting him with Agent Gamma without interference from any other Agents. This time they took many precautions with the pair of Agents. If Gamma began to go rogue, a lock would go down on her ability to Jump, or possess different bodies. Her ability to dodge bullets would be severely weakened, and her movements would be slowed. She would become a simple Level 2 Agent.

Rogers, a Level 15 Agent, would then be able to overpower her, subdue her, and bring her to the Debugger to get her mind back in order.

The new Agent Rogers was also given an update in his emotive responses to keep Gamma from getting bored with him and running off. Like she was doing right now.

Rogers caught her by the hand before she completed the Jump into a body inside Starbucks. She was startled back into that body by the abrupt contact. "Just stay here, okay?"

Gamma looked highly miffed. "Why? We have no mission, so why?"

"Because I said so, that's why."

"You're like a child!"

"The pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh, shut up."

They drove in silence for a while. Gamma had, for once, actually paid attention to what her partner had said, and was still inside the car. She put on her sunglasses, and appeared to sleep, though programs needed no sleep. Rogers didn't spare her a glance, knowing that she would probably stay inside the vehicle for a while.

They passed the time in seeming silence. Anyone looking into the windows of their car, a green station wagon would see two adults going to work. The sentient codes in the area sent them friendly but distracted greetings as they drove past.

It was a relatively quiet day. Not too quiet, as there was a significant amount of rebel activity going on in Canada and in the French Alps, some light activity near the Anomaly, but nothing that Gamma and Rogers needed to worry about. Every few minutes one of them would send out a signal asking if any action was required of them.

Agent Gamma suddenly insisted that they pull over. The urgency in her tone startled the usually imperturbable Rogers. He shot a glance over at her; she was clutching her face, digging her silver fingernails into skin. As he pulled into a parking lot for a K-Mart, Rogers checked his partners' signal.

Something was definitely wrong. Her code was scrambled slightly, just enough to be detectable by a regular Agent through his earpiece. Using his peculiar connection with Gamma, Rogers could feel the distortion almost as powerfully as if it was inside his own code.

"What's the problem?" Rogers grabbed her wrists and held them tight, keeping her from running away if that was her intention. "Gamma. Gamma! Tell me what's wrong."

Gamma jerked away from him. Her Agent programming hadn't locked down, so she must have had some amount of control. "Don't. don't touch me. I don't think it's a virus, but I don't know what it is. Don't want it to get into you."

Rogers nodded, but did not draw back. If anything, he leaned closer. "What is it doing to you?"

"Keeping me from knowing what's going on." Her eyes flew open. Rogers felt the problem before she could transmit the thought to him, much less vocalize it. "It's broadcasting itself."

She began fumbling with her earrings, but whatever was disrupting her code had isolated her fine motor skills from the rest of her. If she kept the earrings on, the disturbance could spread itself to any other Agents in the area. She had to get them off.

Agent Rogers pushed her hands away without a word and ripped the earrings out of her ears without bothering to unclasp them. She cried out, more from shock than from pain, and blood dripped onto her shoulders.

"Gamma. Focus. What's wrong with you?"

The female Agent grimaced, analyzing her own code. "It's definitely not a virus, but it's transmitting information that it shouldn't be." She glanced at the bloody silver loops in her partner's hand. "Crush those."

Rogers looked at her. His face was expressionless, but over their link he radiated caution. "You realize that will be taken as a sign of you going rogue."

"Agent Rogers I COMMAND you to smash those things. If anyone asks you what happened, tell them to keep away. I'm under control."

After the direct order, Rogers couldn't help but comply. His calloused hands turned the earring/transmitters into dust. Almost instantly, alerts began flooding into his earpiece. Every Agent within 150 miles was calling him, asking him if the new, unstable program was being disruptive. It took nearly a full minute to assure them all that assistance was unnecessary, and probably would be detrimental to the mental functioning of Gamma 3.14

Meanwhile, Gamma was muttering and tapping the streak of silver next to her eye. "Emotion simulators disrupted. Fine motor skills down. Logic processes down. Pain reception increase. By the Source." She jerked and grunted. "Faulty coordination. Muscle response spastic." Agent Gamma's body began to seize violently.

Rogers grabbed her arms again. It took her a while to react. Far too long. Her eyes opened, her face twitching. "R.Rogers. I k-can't."

"Get out of the car." Rogers reached across her, opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt for her. Gamma always wore her seatbelt. Always. She had just enough coordination to move out of the car and stand up, leaning heavily on the side. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the more powerful seizures decreased. Rogers was behind her instantly.

"S-s-s-speech imp-p-paired." Gamma spun, and grabbed onto Rogers' suit. "Get-t-t-t hel-lp."

Rogers had already done so. The Debugger was already there, moving with insane speed on his skateboard. He took one look at the car and shouted: "Both of you get away from that thing!"

Agent Rogers did as he was told, carrying Gamma. A few humans noticed them, but not many. They were too busy with their own affairs to worry about the creatures that kept their fragile fantasy in place. The frail- looking, blue-haired boy lifted Gamma out of Rogers' arms with surprising ease. She fell into a sort of coma instantly.

"Agent Rogers," The Debugger's dark eyes no longer held their usual friendliness. "Call a cleanup crew. The passenger seat of this car isn't functioning like it should. Don't let anyone actually touch it, it will corrupt their code."

Rogers nodded and did as he was told. Then, completely out of character for any Agent: "Will she be okay?"

The Debugger almost looked startled, but it may have been a cloud passing the sun and casting a shadow across his young features. "She should be fine. Her code isn't too badly scrambled. Be at Wizards in half a cycle to pick her up. She'll be a bit disoriented, but she should be fine."

The non-Agent nodded once more, but he looked disturbingly helpless. One might have likened him to a soldier who returned home from war knowing nothing of peace, someone with the need to do his duty, but no duty to perform.

The Debugger zipped off, carrying Agent Gamma. Rogers stood still for a moment, then Jumped away from that body, leaving behind a disgruntled magazine salesman who was promptly ushered away from the scene by a cleanup crew.

***

The endless streams of data flowed on. The humans continued living in their dream world, unknowing. None of them would ever appreciate these sentient creatures that kept their minds functioning. None of them would ever know their stories.

None of them would care.