Smith Suffices
How many years has it been? Has it been another century? Or has it been only a year? It's hard to tell now. After what you did to me. After a while I stopped counting. After a while the days and the nights just went by. That is, after what you did to me. After a while nothing mattered. Time doesn't matter anymore. Time doesn't affect me after all, so why should I think about it? All that matters to me are my memories. And being me, I remember everything.
I remember the first time I heard your name.
"Their next target is Neo." Brown said to me.
Yes, Neo. Such a strange name. I wonder why you chose it. I wasn't thinking of your name at the time. It didn't matter to me then. I was created to destroy rebels and you were a potential rebel. I was thinking of the proper way to. . . Well, meet you is the right word to use. I wasn't thinking of much back then. I was a program, I didn't think really.
When I met you, you didn't seem like much. Just one in six billion. You were just like any other. Nothing special.
"Thomas A. Anderson."
I always liked your name. Ever since I first said it. An. Der. Son. The way it sounds, as I say it. Much better than Neo. Nnnneee-o. There is no feeling in Neo, but Anderson is different. So I called Mr. Anderson not only to mock you, but for my own pleasure.
I remember. How I felt, back then. I don't know why I was different. Why I had learned emotions when the others didn't. It doesn't matter now. But still. Even though I felt back then, I rejected such emotion. I was an Agent, not a human. I was created for one purpose, and I didn't need emotions to get in my way. I suppressed the emotions, but they still were there. But I could control them. But the more I destroyed the rebels, the more I grew to hate them. Why couldn't they just accept the Matrix? Why did they have to fight? All it did was cause me pain, working. They made me work, they made me stay there. And then they infected me, finally. I could. . . Smell them. They were disgusting! All the humans were. Everywhere was this horrid smell all around me! I couldn't escape it! It was their fault. They did that to me. They gave me emotions, and they gave me smell. If it wasn't for them! I could have. . . Soon it became a little overwhelming. I felt anger. And feeling this anger made me angry with myself. I wasn't supposed to feel, but somehow I did. I had failed. And it made me angry that I was angry with myself. And so on. No matter what, the emotions would always be there, and the smell would stay.
I couldn't take it anymore. This emotion, this smell. It had to end. It had to! You had infected me! And it had to end! So. . . To have it end, I would not have to be needed. My purpose, kill rebels. No more rebels, no more work. And no more Zion, no more rebels. It seemed so simple, until you came along.
I was so close to finding the answers, the codes, and my escape. I was so close. If I had only five more minutes, I could have. . . But then of course, you came. You came and rescued your captain. Thus, you took my chance of my escape! You took my chance of being away from you! Away from your smell! I was so close. But you took it away. You had to die. You took it away from me. You unleashed the emotion that had been suppressed for so long. I hated you. I hated myself for not killing you before. But all I had to do was kill you then, and it would be over. Then I would just have to wait again, until another chance came along. So I decided I was going to kill you, and there was nothing that could change my mind. Jones and Brown were giving up, and leaving.
"They're still here."
But I was going to kill you. And you were still there. You were as good as dead. And then I saw you. I fired my gun, and destroyed your only exit. Now it would be easy, maybe a little fun even. It didn't matter anymore that I felt emotions, as long as you were dead. I was on a rampage. You fought well, for a human. Better than any I had ever seen. But it didn't matter. I got my gun out and so did you. I fired, you fired. I could feel the bullets go by my head, barely missing, I'm sure you did too.
"You're out." I said with my gun to your head.
"So are you." You spat back.
I looked at the gun. You were right. Damn. I noticed my breathing had increased, surely from the emotions. It didn't matter though.
I got up, and you did too. I punched you, I kicked you, I hurt you, and it felt good. And then. . . you killed me.
I came back, and I chased you. I chased you through that damn building. And I waited for you at that door. You came through. I fired my gun only once. I savored the moment that you realized you were going to die. You gave me a pathetic human face, and I shot you again, and again, and again, and again. . . It was most pleasurable. You backed to the wall, smeared your blood all over it, you fell to the floor, you died, and I was happy. I started to walk down the hall with Jones and Brown. But then. . . You got up. . . I turned to look at you. That was impossible. You were dead. . . I killed you. . . I. . . I was scared. What you did was impossible. You were dead. But you stood right there. I was scared. Then I was angry. I had failed again in killing you, and now I had to, that time I wasn't going to fail. But I did. You went inside me, I could fell you. I could fell you tearing it away, tearing away my code, breaking me, you made the code go away, the Mainframe go away, you made the rules go away. That is when you freed me.
I didn't know it at first. I was somewhere where it was dark, there was no light. There was nothing. Not even the Mainframe, commanding me to return. I was alone in darkness. But then I realized, I just had my eyes closed. So I opened them, and found no one was there. I was free.
It took a while to come in terms with what had happened. But I realized you did it all. You killed me. Anger came back. Then I realized once again, if I was free then there is no reason not to feel. If I was no longer an Agent, then there is no purpose in suppressing the emotions. I could hate you all I wanted, and I did.
It didn't take long for me to figure out how to make copies. All I had to do was copy my code, and have it replace another's. Soon I would have an army, and you would be dead. Because all of this was your fault. All of it. I could feel it. The more copies I had, the stronger I became. I could feel it in my code. The power. It was nice.
Sometimes I would see you. I watched you free people, and I watched you kiss her. I was watching you, and you didn't even know it. I could see your power had increased as well, so I had to get more copies. Soon, I always thought. Soon you would die, and the Matrix would be mine.
And then I fought you. I explained our connection, and our purpose. And yet you still won. Anger. Hatred. So much of it. I needed more.
Then the rain began to fall, in the abandon Matrix city. My copies stood at the sides, waiting, watching us. Green lighting thundered the Matrix sky, and I knew you were about to die. All my work, all my hatred, my labor, my emotions came down to this. I wasn't going to fail. We fought. Are punches caused the ground to shake. You went up into the air. And so did I. You seemed scared that I could fly as well. Well, so many copies had given me so much power, I could bend the rules just like you. I held you high in the air, choking you. You were going to die. You gave me another pathetic human look. You seemed scared, and sad. Most likely because you knew I would win, and there was no way you could protect anyone now. I grinned, and you died. You body went limp, and I dropped you to the ground.
But something happened. As I stared at your dead body, something happened. The moment I had longed for, for so long, had finally come true. But I didn't feel happy. I stared at you dead body, and I kind of hoped you'd get up again. I don't know what happened. You were dead, I got what I always wanted, but. . . My copies started to smile. But I picked up your body, and I walked to that building where you first died. I left my copies alone. I laid your body down where you had first died, and I stared at it. I don't know why. Why didn't I feel good? Why wasn't I happy that you were dead? I. . .
Trinity came in, I could see she was holding back tears. She looked up at me for a minute without speaking. She shook her head, and she slapped me as hard as she could. It hurt. She stood there again, just to see the look on my face, and then she fell to the floor. And held your lifeless body. I continued to stand there, and watch. I saw her tears go down her face, and her face become red. She looked up at me only once after that. The rest of the time she cried, ignoring me as I just stood there.
I watched Trinity. She stayed there for hours, always holding on to your body, always crying.
"Aren't the Sentinels coming?" I asked quietly, not looking at her.
She stayed quiet for a long time.
"Yeah." She finally said.
"Shouldn't you go and fight?"
"What's the use? He's dead, and there is no hope."
I was quiet.
"I killed him." I said. "What is it that I feel?"
"Pleasure?" She asked in a cold voice.
"No. . . It's the complete opposite of pleasure." She looked up.
"You're lying. You're trying to trick me!"
"No. . . Why would I need to trick you? I could kill you easily, and Zion will fall in only hours."
"I don't believe you."
"What am I feeling? I killed him and. . ."
"What? You feel guilty!?"
Why didn't I feel good that you had died? Why? That is all I wanted. I wanted to kill you, but. . . It was because of what you had done to me. You had infected me. You had freed me. You had done things to me I didn't even know. You copied yourself onto me when you freed me. And I felt. . . Guilty. I looked down at my hands.
"Yes. . . I feel guilty." I said.
"No. . . You're not."
For a while noting really mattered. My plans to take over the Matrix had long been forgotten. Really, all I was thinking was you being dead.
"I. . . I don't like this feeling." I said.
"Then you should have killed him!"
I was silent.
"But. . ."
"You shouldn't have killed him. You shouldn't have killed him. You shouldn't have killed him. You shouldn't have killed him." She kept repeating.
I felt guilty. I felt sad. I didn't like it.
"I had to." I said.
"No you didn't, you fucking program!"
I was silent.
"You're right. I didn't have to." I confessed.
Those emotions. . . They were so new.
"I remember the codes." I said.
"What codes?"
"The codes of the Sentinels, the codes of the Crops, the codes. Just like Zion, the machines have codes, that can shut them down."
". . . Are you going to give them to me?"
I reached in my jacked, and pulled out a disc. I transferred the codes to it, and handed it to Trinity.
"I suggest you go back now. You only have about three hours left." I said.
Trinity looked up at me, she couldn't believe it. Her eyes still filled with tears, she nodded, and hugged your body. Then ran passed me to the phone. Then I was alone with you.
I stared at your body, and in a way hoped you would get up again. Just like before. But you never did.
A week later, Zion still stood, and it was a rainy day in the Matrix. Humans and programs gathered around a coffin in a field in the middle of nowhere. I stood behind the group. I scanned the faces. There was your crew, Trinity, Link, and Morpheus. Morpheus shot a look at me, but nodded in thanks of the codes. Niobi and her crew were there as well. A kid that you had freed was there. There was even a boy monk with a spoon. That boy stood next to the Oracle and Seraph. And even Persephone was there, even though Trinity seemed to hate that. I stood in the back. Your body in the Real World was never found, a Sentinel must have gotten to it or something. So they had your funeral in the Matrix. They didn't leave you a gravestone though. I don't know why. They said some words, and they all slowly left. I looked to the ground as they passed me, not wanting to see their gaze. Trinity was the only one left besides me. I walked closer to her. And the rain fell. We didn't speak. I looked over at her. I scanned her.
"You're pregnant." I said.
She didn't respond for a while.
"Yes, yes I am."
I killed you.
"I'm sorry." I said.
She looked up at me. I don't know if she believed me. Then she left. I was alone, and I knelt down to the ground.
"I'm sorry." I said to you.
The next day, I came back with a plaque. It read:
In Memory of Thomas Anderson
I'm sorry I didn't write Neo, but then the Agents would have noticed it.
In the years to come, I still fought the rebels, I didn't kill as many though. My copies noticed that. I fought to control the Matrix, but I didn't really want to. Guilt and sadness. Those emotions. They stuck with me. Sometimes I saw Trinity, I would wave, and she would wave a little back. I once even saved her from Agents. But we still fight. I still fight. I will control the Matrix someday. Maybe I'll let the humans live.
So here I am today, I stand above your grave. Above the plaque I made so long ago. I stand here in a field, unseen by Agents or any humans hooked up in the Matrix. The wind is blowing, and the grass is green. I stand here, my arms crossed, and my shades in my pocket. I look down at you. I turn my head, to see Trinity coming with your young daughter running ahead. They visit you almost as much as I do. Your daughter has you eyes. I stand here, as they come closer. I look down at you, and I remember.
How many years has it been? Has it been another century? Or has it been only a year? It's hard to tell now. After what you did to me. After a while I stopped counting. After a while the days and the nights just went by. That is, after what you did to me. After a while nothing mattered. Time doesn't matter anymore. Time doesn't affect me after all, so why should I think about it? All that matters to me are my memories. And being me, I remember everything.
I remember the first time I heard your name.
"Their next target is Neo." Brown said to me.
Yes, Neo. Such a strange name. I wonder why you chose it. I wasn't thinking of your name at the time. It didn't matter to me then. I was created to destroy rebels and you were a potential rebel. I was thinking of the proper way to. . . Well, meet you is the right word to use. I wasn't thinking of much back then. I was a program, I didn't think really.
When I met you, you didn't seem like much. Just one in six billion. You were just like any other. Nothing special.
"Thomas A. Anderson."
I always liked your name. Ever since I first said it. An. Der. Son. The way it sounds, as I say it. Much better than Neo. Nnnneee-o. There is no feeling in Neo, but Anderson is different. So I called Mr. Anderson not only to mock you, but for my own pleasure.
I remember. How I felt, back then. I don't know why I was different. Why I had learned emotions when the others didn't. It doesn't matter now. But still. Even though I felt back then, I rejected such emotion. I was an Agent, not a human. I was created for one purpose, and I didn't need emotions to get in my way. I suppressed the emotions, but they still were there. But I could control them. But the more I destroyed the rebels, the more I grew to hate them. Why couldn't they just accept the Matrix? Why did they have to fight? All it did was cause me pain, working. They made me work, they made me stay there. And then they infected me, finally. I could. . . Smell them. They were disgusting! All the humans were. Everywhere was this horrid smell all around me! I couldn't escape it! It was their fault. They did that to me. They gave me emotions, and they gave me smell. If it wasn't for them! I could have. . . Soon it became a little overwhelming. I felt anger. And feeling this anger made me angry with myself. I wasn't supposed to feel, but somehow I did. I had failed. And it made me angry that I was angry with myself. And so on. No matter what, the emotions would always be there, and the smell would stay.
I couldn't take it anymore. This emotion, this smell. It had to end. It had to! You had infected me! And it had to end! So. . . To have it end, I would not have to be needed. My purpose, kill rebels. No more rebels, no more work. And no more Zion, no more rebels. It seemed so simple, until you came along.
I was so close to finding the answers, the codes, and my escape. I was so close. If I had only five more minutes, I could have. . . But then of course, you came. You came and rescued your captain. Thus, you took my chance of my escape! You took my chance of being away from you! Away from your smell! I was so close. But you took it away. You had to die. You took it away from me. You unleashed the emotion that had been suppressed for so long. I hated you. I hated myself for not killing you before. But all I had to do was kill you then, and it would be over. Then I would just have to wait again, until another chance came along. So I decided I was going to kill you, and there was nothing that could change my mind. Jones and Brown were giving up, and leaving.
"They're still here."
But I was going to kill you. And you were still there. You were as good as dead. And then I saw you. I fired my gun, and destroyed your only exit. Now it would be easy, maybe a little fun even. It didn't matter anymore that I felt emotions, as long as you were dead. I was on a rampage. You fought well, for a human. Better than any I had ever seen. But it didn't matter. I got my gun out and so did you. I fired, you fired. I could feel the bullets go by my head, barely missing, I'm sure you did too.
"You're out." I said with my gun to your head.
"So are you." You spat back.
I looked at the gun. You were right. Damn. I noticed my breathing had increased, surely from the emotions. It didn't matter though.
I got up, and you did too. I punched you, I kicked you, I hurt you, and it felt good. And then. . . you killed me.
I came back, and I chased you. I chased you through that damn building. And I waited for you at that door. You came through. I fired my gun only once. I savored the moment that you realized you were going to die. You gave me a pathetic human face, and I shot you again, and again, and again, and again. . . It was most pleasurable. You backed to the wall, smeared your blood all over it, you fell to the floor, you died, and I was happy. I started to walk down the hall with Jones and Brown. But then. . . You got up. . . I turned to look at you. That was impossible. You were dead. . . I killed you. . . I. . . I was scared. What you did was impossible. You were dead. But you stood right there. I was scared. Then I was angry. I had failed again in killing you, and now I had to, that time I wasn't going to fail. But I did. You went inside me, I could fell you. I could fell you tearing it away, tearing away my code, breaking me, you made the code go away, the Mainframe go away, you made the rules go away. That is when you freed me.
I didn't know it at first. I was somewhere where it was dark, there was no light. There was nothing. Not even the Mainframe, commanding me to return. I was alone in darkness. But then I realized, I just had my eyes closed. So I opened them, and found no one was there. I was free.
It took a while to come in terms with what had happened. But I realized you did it all. You killed me. Anger came back. Then I realized once again, if I was free then there is no reason not to feel. If I was no longer an Agent, then there is no purpose in suppressing the emotions. I could hate you all I wanted, and I did.
It didn't take long for me to figure out how to make copies. All I had to do was copy my code, and have it replace another's. Soon I would have an army, and you would be dead. Because all of this was your fault. All of it. I could feel it. The more copies I had, the stronger I became. I could feel it in my code. The power. It was nice.
Sometimes I would see you. I watched you free people, and I watched you kiss her. I was watching you, and you didn't even know it. I could see your power had increased as well, so I had to get more copies. Soon, I always thought. Soon you would die, and the Matrix would be mine.
And then I fought you. I explained our connection, and our purpose. And yet you still won. Anger. Hatred. So much of it. I needed more.
Then the rain began to fall, in the abandon Matrix city. My copies stood at the sides, waiting, watching us. Green lighting thundered the Matrix sky, and I knew you were about to die. All my work, all my hatred, my labor, my emotions came down to this. I wasn't going to fail. We fought. Are punches caused the ground to shake. You went up into the air. And so did I. You seemed scared that I could fly as well. Well, so many copies had given me so much power, I could bend the rules just like you. I held you high in the air, choking you. You were going to die. You gave me another pathetic human look. You seemed scared, and sad. Most likely because you knew I would win, and there was no way you could protect anyone now. I grinned, and you died. You body went limp, and I dropped you to the ground.
But something happened. As I stared at your dead body, something happened. The moment I had longed for, for so long, had finally come true. But I didn't feel happy. I stared at you dead body, and I kind of hoped you'd get up again. I don't know what happened. You were dead, I got what I always wanted, but. . . My copies started to smile. But I picked up your body, and I walked to that building where you first died. I left my copies alone. I laid your body down where you had first died, and I stared at it. I don't know why. Why didn't I feel good? Why wasn't I happy that you were dead? I. . .
Trinity came in, I could see she was holding back tears. She looked up at me for a minute without speaking. She shook her head, and she slapped me as hard as she could. It hurt. She stood there again, just to see the look on my face, and then she fell to the floor. And held your lifeless body. I continued to stand there, and watch. I saw her tears go down her face, and her face become red. She looked up at me only once after that. The rest of the time she cried, ignoring me as I just stood there.
I watched Trinity. She stayed there for hours, always holding on to your body, always crying.
"Aren't the Sentinels coming?" I asked quietly, not looking at her.
She stayed quiet for a long time.
"Yeah." She finally said.
"Shouldn't you go and fight?"
"What's the use? He's dead, and there is no hope."
I was quiet.
"I killed him." I said. "What is it that I feel?"
"Pleasure?" She asked in a cold voice.
"No. . . It's the complete opposite of pleasure." She looked up.
"You're lying. You're trying to trick me!"
"No. . . Why would I need to trick you? I could kill you easily, and Zion will fall in only hours."
"I don't believe you."
"What am I feeling? I killed him and. . ."
"What? You feel guilty!?"
Why didn't I feel good that you had died? Why? That is all I wanted. I wanted to kill you, but. . . It was because of what you had done to me. You had infected me. You had freed me. You had done things to me I didn't even know. You copied yourself onto me when you freed me. And I felt. . . Guilty. I looked down at my hands.
"Yes. . . I feel guilty." I said.
"No. . . You're not."
For a while noting really mattered. My plans to take over the Matrix had long been forgotten. Really, all I was thinking was you being dead.
"I. . . I don't like this feeling." I said.
"Then you should have killed him!"
I was silent.
"But. . ."
"You shouldn't have killed him. You shouldn't have killed him. You shouldn't have killed him. You shouldn't have killed him." She kept repeating.
I felt guilty. I felt sad. I didn't like it.
"I had to." I said.
"No you didn't, you fucking program!"
I was silent.
"You're right. I didn't have to." I confessed.
Those emotions. . . They were so new.
"I remember the codes." I said.
"What codes?"
"The codes of the Sentinels, the codes of the Crops, the codes. Just like Zion, the machines have codes, that can shut them down."
". . . Are you going to give them to me?"
I reached in my jacked, and pulled out a disc. I transferred the codes to it, and handed it to Trinity.
"I suggest you go back now. You only have about three hours left." I said.
Trinity looked up at me, she couldn't believe it. Her eyes still filled with tears, she nodded, and hugged your body. Then ran passed me to the phone. Then I was alone with you.
I stared at your body, and in a way hoped you would get up again. Just like before. But you never did.
A week later, Zion still stood, and it was a rainy day in the Matrix. Humans and programs gathered around a coffin in a field in the middle of nowhere. I stood behind the group. I scanned the faces. There was your crew, Trinity, Link, and Morpheus. Morpheus shot a look at me, but nodded in thanks of the codes. Niobi and her crew were there as well. A kid that you had freed was there. There was even a boy monk with a spoon. That boy stood next to the Oracle and Seraph. And even Persephone was there, even though Trinity seemed to hate that. I stood in the back. Your body in the Real World was never found, a Sentinel must have gotten to it or something. So they had your funeral in the Matrix. They didn't leave you a gravestone though. I don't know why. They said some words, and they all slowly left. I looked to the ground as they passed me, not wanting to see their gaze. Trinity was the only one left besides me. I walked closer to her. And the rain fell. We didn't speak. I looked over at her. I scanned her.
"You're pregnant." I said.
She didn't respond for a while.
"Yes, yes I am."
I killed you.
"I'm sorry." I said.
She looked up at me. I don't know if she believed me. Then she left. I was alone, and I knelt down to the ground.
"I'm sorry." I said to you.
The next day, I came back with a plaque. It read:
In Memory of Thomas Anderson
I'm sorry I didn't write Neo, but then the Agents would have noticed it.
In the years to come, I still fought the rebels, I didn't kill as many though. My copies noticed that. I fought to control the Matrix, but I didn't really want to. Guilt and sadness. Those emotions. They stuck with me. Sometimes I saw Trinity, I would wave, and she would wave a little back. I once even saved her from Agents. But we still fight. I still fight. I will control the Matrix someday. Maybe I'll let the humans live.
So here I am today, I stand above your grave. Above the plaque I made so long ago. I stand here in a field, unseen by Agents or any humans hooked up in the Matrix. The wind is blowing, and the grass is green. I stand here, my arms crossed, and my shades in my pocket. I look down at you. I turn my head, to see Trinity coming with your young daughter running ahead. They visit you almost as much as I do. Your daughter has you eyes. I stand here, as they come closer. I look down at you, and I remember.