See previous chapter for details…
Chapter 1: Modification
The sun was out, surprisingly, as evidence of the previous evening's storm evaporated. People seemed to be coming out of their homes, and forgetting their troubles…just by looking at the bright, sunny day that lay ahead of them.
In a small, middle-class residential area, it appeared as though everyone was spending their day outside. There was no sound coming from any of the houses which lined the suburban looking streets; which is just how Smith had wanted it.
Humans…completely illogical beings who relied upon the weather to determine their mood. It only reinforced his opinion of the species. They appeared to be like moths drawn to a bright light…and to him, humans were no better than insects, in any way whatsoever.
Glasses in their usually spot, he sneered as he stopped his black Audi in the driveway of a typical two-story colonial style house. He had not defeated Neo…but he would. No matter what it took, even if it meant his own destruction.
Getting out of the car with grace that could rival a feline's, he straightened his blazer as he made his way to the door of the residence.
~~~~~
Eric Rickman was proud to say he was a hacker by nature. Only sixteen years old, he had still been able to hack into classified information just as easily as he could check his e-mail. Being the weekend, it was no surprise that he was in his room sitting in front of the computer, while the rest of his family was out.
What is the Matrix Chat popped up on the screen, and with a few keystrokes, he seemed to have entered a chatroom. He had been the founder of this chatroom, happy to see that he was not the only one that wondered just what exactly the matrix was. It had only been a month since he had received a blank e-mail with 'THE MATRIX HAS YOU' as the subject header. Since then, he had come to learn almost nothing about what the The Matrix was, although he did find many other people who were trying to answer that same question. Many of his fellow enquirers seemed to be around his own age, talking about music and sports…nothing in particular at the moment. No one had really had anything to say in the past few days…and frankly, there was nothing he was able to say, either. Going downstairs to grab a soda, he paused on his way back up stairs as he heard the doorbell rang.
"Dammit Chris, I told you I don't want t—"he cut himself off however, as he realized that he was now facing someone who didn't appear to his friend at all.
"I am looking for Mr. Rickman" Smith said evenly, as his shielded eyes examined the boy in front of him.
The Rebels were getting more daring, more courageous, and less cautious. They seemed to think that the war was going to end, in their favor. For the past few months since Smith's last encounter with 'The One', more children were being unplugged than ever before. This lucky one in front of Smith had been contacted by the infamous Niobe. He wanted her dead, he wanted all of them to die…but he had a plan, one which would not fail.
Humans appeared to have all their choices influenced by emotion. Even Smith had felt the power that anger had over someone when dealing with something…or someone.
To get to Neo, he had to get to Morpheus…and what better way to get to Morpheus than by actually taking the woman he loved away from him. But first, it was the boy. He had to get the boy.
"Sorry, can't help you. He's not here" Eric said casually, as he went to close the door.
'Irregular eye movements. Dilation of pupils. Increase in body temperature…' the ex-Agent could tell he was lying. Of course, it wasn't as if he had not known what would happen. Why did humans always have to make things difficult for themselves?
"I believe that you're mistaken, Mr. Rickman" Smith sneered as he pushed the door open.
"Hey! Listen man, you can't just come in he—" the boy yelled as Smith came in, and walked towards him. He was scared…this guy wasn't police, he was sure of it. Now all he had to do was figure out just what he had done wrong. Unfortunately for him, he never got to finish talking as he was effortlessly picked up and slammed against the wall.
Eric now slumped over on the floor, Smith wasted little time picking the boy up again and throwing him into a hallway mirror.
Already housing a concussion and several broken bones, it was hard to tell if he was even coherent at all anymore.
Grabbing his tee shirt with both hands, Smith glared down at the boy, whose eyes were now rolling back and forth in their sockets.
"Niobe…when are you meeting Niobe…"he said through gritted teeth.
If he expected and answer, he didn't get one.
Smith had not arrived with patience, and was now ready to pick up the frail, pathetic human, when he saw the boy's eyes go wide.
Even with his reaction time, Smith was unable to react to being thrown twenty feet into the air, and landing exactly on top of a wooden coffee table, which now laid in pieces.
Glasses now hanging haphazardly on his face, he got up, ready to draw his gun. Unfortunately, it didn't appear if that would be of any help.
Agents…three of them, were now inside the house, guns drawn and pointed at Smith.
He had not counted on having company, and none of his duplicates had accompanied him on what he assumed would be an easy task. He was wrong…but that could be fixed.
"You have no authority to be here" the Agent said as he moved in closer, his comrades right behind him.
Authority? Since when did he take orders from anyone but himself. He was free, un-plugged…the mainframe was aware of this, and yet it still sent Agents to try and 'deal' with him.
Giving a lingering sneer in response, Smith walked briskly up to the Agent, easily blocking the bullets that were now being shot at him. This would end with him getting what he wanted…as well as a few duplicates of himself close behind.
In a split second, Smith had his hand in the Agent's abdomen, the look of what could only be described as shock plastered on the lead Agent's face. The mercurial transformation was doing its job, and soon there would be two of them and two of him.
"No…" Smith said angrily, as he felt something go wrong. What he could only describe as the most unpleasant sensation he had ever had, ran through his programming, bringing him to his knees. If he'd been human, he would have said that he was in pain; unfortunately it wouldn't have made a difference.
The mercurial liquid was now receding back into Smith, the Agent's distinct form returning back to normal. It hadn't worked…
"You are no longer a threat to the Matrix and the Agents within the system" the second agent spoke tonelessly, as he looked down upon the fallen Smith. "We were told to expect that your actions would be predictable. We have been modified…"
"…and you are now obsolete" the third agent finished, as he turned and walked towards the boy lying unconscious on the floor.
It was impossible. Smith had once requested modification and was denied by the mainframe. The Mainframe did not have the ability to modify Agents already in the Matrix, and yet somehow…it had been done. Some program had the power to make changes, which now posed a threat to him. He did not like threats.
Unable to move, he watched as the remaining Agents walked back to the boy, picking him up and carrying him outside the door.
He would get what he was after…but now, he had to determine, just what the cause was of the Agent's modification.
"Oh Mr. Anderson…how I will enjoy watching you die…again..." he said slowly under his breath, as he was now able to stand.
Looking around at the living room, he gave little notice to the cracked walls and piles of plaster and broken glass that had formed in only a matter of minutes.
Walking out of the door, he glanced back up at the sun, and smirked, knowing that this was only the beginning of the end.
To Be Continued…
