NOTICE: Unfortunately, I do not own any of the original characters from the Matrix trilogy. HOWEVER: All other characters in this fanfic do belong to me, as they're all products of my overactive imagination.
1. Ghost.
The girl ran from street to street, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. She darted this way and that, before emerging into a small courtyard.
It was dark. And unearthly quiet.
The girl was uneasy. She'd been running for some time now, and yet no attacks. No agents. Yet. She'd literally run into one about nine blocks ago. Now she was trying to get to the exit she'd been near to before running away.
In short she was doubling back, retracing her steps to get out of the Matrix.
Her breathing was becoming more ragged. Where were the agents? Why didn't they follow her? Well, to be truthful, she'd turned and pelted in the opposite direction without turning back to see if they were gaining on her.
And now she was alone.
She didn't like it. She didn't like being alone. It made her more afraid. The girl needed company, some sort of companionship. And now she was alone in the Matrix and there were agents after her.
She had the disc.
She had the disc in her jacket pocket. The disc that could change everything that the rebellion had ever known about the possibilities within the Matrix. The information was encrypted but she knew how to decode it. She already had, and the contents were memorised in her brain. She just needed to get to the drop off point, and get back into the real world.
Her thoughts turned to another human. A human who used to be captain of one of the finest ships in Zion's fleet. A human who supposedly died in the Matrix. But lately there had been rumours.
The girl retreated to a darkened corner of the courtyard to rethink her strategy.
Yes, lots of rumours.
Rumours that she wasn't dead. Rumours, whispers in the hushed cabins of docked ships (it was notorious bad luck to mention the subject while in flight) that the human
had been accepted by the construct and was now "living" in the Matrix.
Impossible. The body cannot live without the mind. And yet some had even claimed to have seen her, a face in the crowd, a passing stranger.
A malignant ghost.
The girl had forgotten the ghost's name. Suddenly, out of the cloying darkness came a voice.
"Are you alright?"
The girl sighed, but still remained on edge. It was a female voice, polite, enquiring, but with a reassuring degree of warmth to it.
"Yes, thank you".
The voice stepped out of the shadow. A woman. Tall, slim built, and beautiful. Impossibly straight brown hair tied up high in a long, but neat ponytail that swayed at her nape. She was wearing dark glasses despite the fact that it was the middle of the night.
The woman chuckled.
"You humans. So gullible. So easily found out".
The girl gasped as the woman moved further into the light. She was wearing a sharply cut black trouser suit with a white shirt and a tie.
An agent.
The girl tried to scream as the agent lifted her up by her throat and gazed up at her pitiful face, struggling to breath. Reaching for the disc she pulled it out but the woman tightened her grip on her throat and it fell to the ground with a clatter.
She looked down at the dispassionate face of the woman.
"Who-who are you?"
The woman smiled blandly.
"A ghost".
* * * * * * *
The ship had cruised warily along the winding passages of the sewers.
She was the Olympus, acting as messenger. Oddly enough, it was broadcasting a pirate signal as one of its crew sped to a drop off point to notify Zion of another casualty of the war against the machines.
The ship was on its way to Zion, and home.
A young one this time. A girl, who had momentarily disappeared whilst in the Matrix.
She had been pulled out of the Matrix, seemingly half dead, and then she'd spoken, in a voice that wasn't her own. A female voice, yes, but not hers.
"The rumours are true".
Then she'd collapsed and been pronounced dead seconds later. It was a mystery to be sure, thought Narada. He'd examined the body himself after the ship had docked in Zion. He was a doctor, a healer, of sorts. He was also the resident coroner and advisor to the council in a war that had claimed too many lives already. Narada was, as he often remarked, another genuine child of Zion. Not born, but nevertheless more at home in the real world. Unlike his brother, Captain Sol of the Apollo, a respected rebel fighter and captain. He'd returned to Zion some time ago, disillusioned with fighting in the Matrix and had remained there, in the last human city, until his sudden and unexpected death three months previous.
Narada was not like Sol. He had taken after their mother, with her calm, gentle temperament and patience. None of Sol's trademark abruptness or commanding persona. Yet his brother had been a different man when he'd returned. Narada had never asked him what happened on the Apollo on the day before he flew home, but Sol had become less demanding, less sure of himself.
Sometimes Sol had woken up shouting for someone. A woman. Narada had never caught her name. Whenever he'd asked him about the recurring nightmares, what they'd been about, his brother had remarked simply,
"A face from the past".
Narada sighed. There was work to be done, and a report to send to the council and to the ship that the girl was on. The mystery would have to wait until tomorrow.
He closed up his folder and left the quiet of the office. As he walked back to his room he stopped, as he always did, to listen to the distant but pulsing sounds coming from the machinery below.
Machines above us, machines below us. One of these groups was trying to kill them, the other was prolonging their survival.
The irony had not escaped him.
Narada paused and opened the folder again. The girl had been a carrier. She'd been transporting something to a drop off point. A disc.
What could a disc hold that was worth more than a life?
Narada considered the possibilities. Vital information on sentinel activity on the surface? No; other ships would have notified Zion sooner and besides, Zion knew of the impending dangers, the millions of machines drilling downwards. And the girl was young. Younger and less experienced than others on her ship-why had she been chosen to make the drop?
Had she been chosen? Or was the disc something she'd discovered by accident?
What could a disc hold that was worth more than a life?
Narada walked to his room and slid into his bed, thinking. Something was bothering him about the disc. And what the girl had said about the rumours being true..rumours about-the human that was accepted into the construct and was now existing purely within the Matrix?
A face from the past.
There were so many things Narada had never asked his temperamental brother. So many things he never knew about him. Now he regretted his silence, even if he had held his tongue over the years out of respect for Sol's privacy.
He would bring his report to the Council tomorrow. There was a lot to discuss.
Narada drifted into an uneasy sleep, filled with dreams of his brother and the nameless woman he called out for in his sleep.
* * * * * * *