Disclaimer: I didn't create Agent Jones or the Matrix, but I did create
Artemis and Surge.
CHAPTER 6: Bug
Surge stood on the corner of fifth and Center Street, where he was told to wait for a big, black car. It was 4:30 am, and raining like hell. Surge pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. He enjoyed five fine minutes of tobacco and nicotine, but as he flicked the butt into the gutters, he knew that he should quit. He got wetter and wetter as he got more and more pissed off. "It's way too frigging early to be doing this. Besides, it was probably just a prank." He knew that it wasn't, but he wanted to believe it. Just like he wanted to believe that the world was normal, and it was just his problem. Ever since he was young, he had felt like the world was messed up, like a computer program with a virus. And recently, he had joined a message board and met another person who felt the same way. Artemis. She had told him that his feelings made sense, that they might be true. Now, she was telling him that they are true, and she can prove it. And she had, so far. She had proven that the world was so goddamn messed up, that people would make him wait in the early hours of the morning for a stupid black car!
"That's it. TAXI!" He waved his arm and whistled for a cab. It pulled up beside him, just as a big, black car drove up behind it. Surge started to say, "Never mind," but a man inside pulled him in. The man was wearing a brown suit, and carried a briefcase. He wore sunglasses. That was very odd, but Surge was too angry to care. "What the hell did you do that for?!"
"For your protection, Mr. Chance. Drive." He had a small smirk on his face. Surge noticed that a cord came up the side of his neck and into a hearing aid or something. He had a platinum Rolex on his left wrist and no wedding ring. His hair was neatly parted on the side and Surge could not see through his glasses. "I did that for your own safety, Mr. Chance. You are in great danger."
"How did you know my name?"
"That isn't important. I want to confirm that you have been in contact with a terrorist who's alias is 'Artemis'?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mr. Chance, allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Agent Jones. I can help you with your- " his right eyebrow raised, "Problems."
The cabbie pulled over in front of a tall building. Agent Jones led Surge inside and up the stairs. At last, they reached a padded room with a mirror on one wall. There was a table in the middle of the room, and two chairs, one at either end of the table. Jones motioned for Surge to sit in one of these chairs, as two more agents entered that room and closed the door, locking it. Surge did not sit. He simply glared at Agent Jones.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Chance?"
"You tell me. I was waiting to meet a friend when I was kidnapped by someone claiming to be a government agent when I don't even think that there is a branch of the government like this. What's wrong with that?"
"Mr. Chance, why (if you were indeed waiting for this 'friend' of yours) did you need a cab? And did I ever say that I belonged to the government? Your government, that is." What the hell was he talking about? Agent Jones opened his briefcase and pulled out some important- looking documents. "We are the government. You asked how I knew your name? Well, we know many things about you, Mr. Chance. We know that when you were seven, you ran away from home. You run a successful record shop, and you have no girlfriend. We also know your alias, Surge. According to the record, you have hacked into twelve government databases. You are also an affiliate to the notorious terrorist called Artemis. That is a dangerous lifestyle, Mr. Chance. Are you happy with both of your lives? We aren't. In fact, only one of them is lawful in our eyes. Do you know which one that might be?"
Surge stood up and spat on the padded floor. He opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out. "Personally, I don't give a shit. Can I smoke in here?"
The agent looked at Surge with a gleam in his eyes. "Smoking is bad for your health, Mr. Chance."
"What are you, my mother?" Surge put the cigarette in his mouth and struck a match from his matchbook. It immediately blew out. Surge stared at it, but tried again. This time the match stayed alight long enough to reach his mouth, but before he could light the cigarette, it blew out again. He had no matches left. He looked up at Agent Jones. "You got a light?"
"Do you want a light, Mr. Chance?" There was a slight muscle spasm in Agent Jones' neck. He snapped his fingers and immediately the room exploded into flames. Surge yelled and dropped the cigarette. The agents walked over to where Surge was standing and pushed him onto the table. Jones snapped his fingers and the room went back to normal. Surge, however, kept screaming. The agents tore Surge's shirt off and held him to the table. Jones took something out of his pocket, but Surge couldn't see what it was.
"Hold still, Mr. Chance. This will not be pleasant." And he held up the thing that he had taken out of his pocket. It looked like a weird electronic bug. It started to wriggle and it morphed into a spider. Surge screamed louder, but nobody heard him; at least no one cared. He kicked and punched but the agents somehow managed to dodge them. Jones dropped the spider onto Surge's bare chest, and it actually crawled into his naval.
"Calm down, Mr. Chance!"
But he couldn't calm down. He could actually feel it , feel it inside his skin. He didn't want to think about what it could do in there, what it might bite. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. He screamed until he couldn't scream anymore, and all he could hear was a buzzing in his ears.
*BEEP! * BEEP! * BEEP! * BEEP!*
It was all a dream. Robert sat up in his bed and turned his alarm clock off. He felt his stomach, expecting to find a lump where the spider had been. He breathed a great sigh of relief. No spider. He made his bed and checked his e-mail. There was a new message and he opened it.
"Surge: We are afraid that you are no longer safe. Wait for Strike. She will tell you what to do."
Surge felt his heart flip. Was it really just a dream? He closed the window and shut down the computer. He left for work as usual. He ate breakfast at the café as usual. He rode the same subway car to Manhattan as he always did. His morning went as normal as possible, up until ten forty-seven and fourteen seconds, when a tall woman wearing leather pants and mirrored shades entered his record shop.
CHAPTER 6: Bug
Surge stood on the corner of fifth and Center Street, where he was told to wait for a big, black car. It was 4:30 am, and raining like hell. Surge pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. He enjoyed five fine minutes of tobacco and nicotine, but as he flicked the butt into the gutters, he knew that he should quit. He got wetter and wetter as he got more and more pissed off. "It's way too frigging early to be doing this. Besides, it was probably just a prank." He knew that it wasn't, but he wanted to believe it. Just like he wanted to believe that the world was normal, and it was just his problem. Ever since he was young, he had felt like the world was messed up, like a computer program with a virus. And recently, he had joined a message board and met another person who felt the same way. Artemis. She had told him that his feelings made sense, that they might be true. Now, she was telling him that they are true, and she can prove it. And she had, so far. She had proven that the world was so goddamn messed up, that people would make him wait in the early hours of the morning for a stupid black car!
"That's it. TAXI!" He waved his arm and whistled for a cab. It pulled up beside him, just as a big, black car drove up behind it. Surge started to say, "Never mind," but a man inside pulled him in. The man was wearing a brown suit, and carried a briefcase. He wore sunglasses. That was very odd, but Surge was too angry to care. "What the hell did you do that for?!"
"For your protection, Mr. Chance. Drive." He had a small smirk on his face. Surge noticed that a cord came up the side of his neck and into a hearing aid or something. He had a platinum Rolex on his left wrist and no wedding ring. His hair was neatly parted on the side and Surge could not see through his glasses. "I did that for your own safety, Mr. Chance. You are in great danger."
"How did you know my name?"
"That isn't important. I want to confirm that you have been in contact with a terrorist who's alias is 'Artemis'?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mr. Chance, allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Agent Jones. I can help you with your- " his right eyebrow raised, "Problems."
The cabbie pulled over in front of a tall building. Agent Jones led Surge inside and up the stairs. At last, they reached a padded room with a mirror on one wall. There was a table in the middle of the room, and two chairs, one at either end of the table. Jones motioned for Surge to sit in one of these chairs, as two more agents entered that room and closed the door, locking it. Surge did not sit. He simply glared at Agent Jones.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Chance?"
"You tell me. I was waiting to meet a friend when I was kidnapped by someone claiming to be a government agent when I don't even think that there is a branch of the government like this. What's wrong with that?"
"Mr. Chance, why (if you were indeed waiting for this 'friend' of yours) did you need a cab? And did I ever say that I belonged to the government? Your government, that is." What the hell was he talking about? Agent Jones opened his briefcase and pulled out some important- looking documents. "We are the government. You asked how I knew your name? Well, we know many things about you, Mr. Chance. We know that when you were seven, you ran away from home. You run a successful record shop, and you have no girlfriend. We also know your alias, Surge. According to the record, you have hacked into twelve government databases. You are also an affiliate to the notorious terrorist called Artemis. That is a dangerous lifestyle, Mr. Chance. Are you happy with both of your lives? We aren't. In fact, only one of them is lawful in our eyes. Do you know which one that might be?"
Surge stood up and spat on the padded floor. He opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out. "Personally, I don't give a shit. Can I smoke in here?"
The agent looked at Surge with a gleam in his eyes. "Smoking is bad for your health, Mr. Chance."
"What are you, my mother?" Surge put the cigarette in his mouth and struck a match from his matchbook. It immediately blew out. Surge stared at it, but tried again. This time the match stayed alight long enough to reach his mouth, but before he could light the cigarette, it blew out again. He had no matches left. He looked up at Agent Jones. "You got a light?"
"Do you want a light, Mr. Chance?" There was a slight muscle spasm in Agent Jones' neck. He snapped his fingers and immediately the room exploded into flames. Surge yelled and dropped the cigarette. The agents walked over to where Surge was standing and pushed him onto the table. Jones snapped his fingers and the room went back to normal. Surge, however, kept screaming. The agents tore Surge's shirt off and held him to the table. Jones took something out of his pocket, but Surge couldn't see what it was.
"Hold still, Mr. Chance. This will not be pleasant." And he held up the thing that he had taken out of his pocket. It looked like a weird electronic bug. It started to wriggle and it morphed into a spider. Surge screamed louder, but nobody heard him; at least no one cared. He kicked and punched but the agents somehow managed to dodge them. Jones dropped the spider onto Surge's bare chest, and it actually crawled into his naval.
"Calm down, Mr. Chance!"
But he couldn't calm down. He could actually feel it , feel it inside his skin. He didn't want to think about what it could do in there, what it might bite. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. He screamed until he couldn't scream anymore, and all he could hear was a buzzing in his ears.
*BEEP! * BEEP! * BEEP! * BEEP!*
It was all a dream. Robert sat up in his bed and turned his alarm clock off. He felt his stomach, expecting to find a lump where the spider had been. He breathed a great sigh of relief. No spider. He made his bed and checked his e-mail. There was a new message and he opened it.
"Surge: We are afraid that you are no longer safe. Wait for Strike. She will tell you what to do."
Surge felt his heart flip. Was it really just a dream? He closed the window and shut down the computer. He left for work as usual. He ate breakfast at the café as usual. He rode the same subway car to Manhattan as he always did. His morning went as normal as possible, up until ten forty-seven and fourteen seconds, when a tall woman wearing leather pants and mirrored shades entered his record shop.