AUTHOR'S NOTE:
alocin-so, you want Persis to change her mind, huh? Well, only time will tell what the former agent formerly known as Carlisle will do…^_^ Though letting Smith go was a pretty tough chapter to write…*sobs* ; )
Aoden Half-elven- thanks for that *blushes again* you really are too kind…I tried to show how Persis' resolve is quite strong by having her put her sunglasses on at the end; a) because it seemed to make her more emotionally distant although in reality she's imploding inside L and b) so that her connection with Smith is made more obvious. Glad you liked it!
Exobiologist-poor kids indeed…I think it's great that you and my other reviewers are sticking with this story-thank you! When are you going to update Defector Programme?? Its brilliant…
Selina Enriquez- I am definitely feeling the Moby soundtrack to "Exiles"…nice choice-I find that certain songs help me write chapters and set a particular mood..I listened to LOADS of music before I wrote The Hybrid and The Exodus-I will list the songs at some point…^_^
Kaldicuck- Hi! Thanks for your review! I'm right there with you, waving an implausibly large Smith banner…although I kinda like Neo too…he just doesn't have the charisma and killer sense of humour Smith has…^_~
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.
15. Unexpected.
Smith clasped her hand in his again. It was growing warm.
Persis pulled him closer.
"I want to rest, Smith, I want to rest. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have been a great many things".
Then she pulled away slightly and looked at him.
"I want to be new, Smith, I want to start again. I don't want to-"
"Remember".
"Not this. Not being an agent. Not the killing. Not what I've done here".
"They can do that. They can send you back into the Matrix".
Persis looked at him sadly.
"I don't want the Matrix anymore, Smith. It's cost me more than I had. That's why I'm going to help destroy it.".
"Then you must choose, Persis", came his logical reply.
Persis scanned the horizon as she had before, searching for an answer.
"I've killed people, Smith. I've killed defenceless people, women, children, people that were contacted by the rebels. I've fought and killed rebels too-people I fought
with, people I might have known..", she ran a trembling hand through her hair, "I can't remain here anymore, knowing what I've done".
Smith considered this statement. Guilt, it seemed, carried more weight than most emotions, he noticed, wandering if any of the other new emotions rampaging in his system could be filed under that heading.
"Smith, I have to help or Zion will be destroyed...I have to save Zion".
Smith looked intensely at her.
"I can't help you".
Persis looked at him at first with surprise, then understanding.
"You still hate them, don't you? You hate all humans".
"Not all humans".
"Smith-"
"I won't help you. I had other things to attend to".
Persis was puzzled by this at first. Then she realised why. She had strengthened his singularity of purpose; only Smith's purpose within the Matrix was not to let mankind live.
"Neo".
"Yes".
"You're going to kill him. You're going to kill the One. You want to destroy the last hope that Zion has before the machines get there first".
Smith sighed resignedly. "You forget the connection he and I share".
"You weren't so intent on revenge before. I liked you better then".
"You still like me now, Persis".
She couldn't deny that. All the old feelings, long since forgotten had resurfaced with the rest of her past and blossomed.
"Do you still hate the Matrix?"
Smith looked uncomfortable for a second. "Yes".
"You still want to leave it, don't you?"
His silence was all the answer she needed.
"I have to ensure that Zion is saved, or all will be lost".
Smith nodded a little wearily.
Persis pressed her ear piece closer and closed her eyes.
"They are coming".
Smith stepped closer, so close she could feel the heartbeat included in his programming to keep up the pretence of humanity.
"I cannot actively help you, but", and he gently pulled her ponytail downwards, tilting her mouth up to his, "however, I will remain indirectly involved. Do what you believe is what must be done; carry out what is your purpose. I will not stand in the way of that. I am compelled to allow you to do what you have to. I am unable to become an obstacle in the way of my purpose for continuing to exist and avoid termination".
She closed her eyes at this admission. No one would ever express love in quite the same way Smith had just done. She hoped no one else ever would.
Persis smiled and the countdown began.
* * * * * * *
Persis sat up with a jolt. She ran a weary hand through her hair, smoothing the disturbed strands. She clicked the joints in her neck and hands before looking around and realising that she'd slipped into an escapist daydream at the bar, her boots kicking at the legs of the stool she sat on.
A fantasy. It was beautiful, but one that wasn't to be realised.
She downed the rest of the glass before her and took her glasses off with a faint sigh.
At least it was better than the last real dream, the one she'd had before waking up in an empty room without Smith's solid and comforting frame lying next to her amidst the chaotic sheets. She'd woken up cold. The dream, if it could be called that, had left her practically frostbitten.
Persis cradled the empty glass in her hand, staring emptily at the dull bronze reflection of herself in the mirror behind the bar. The dream had been a dark and twisted vision of what she had the power to let happen.
She stopped Smith as he turned to leave. He looked almost disdainfully at the hand on his arm. Persis pulled out the disc from her jacket pocket and let it fall to the floor. Smith looked at her, realisation of what she was doing dawning on him.
Persis finally spoke.
"We are exiles, aren't we".
"You said so yourself".
"We'd never fit into either world. We don't fully belong - anywhere." She spoke slowly as she realised how pathetic her plan to aid Zion had suddenly become. It would not guarantee her acceptance from Zion, let alone forgiveness. Smith, on the other hand, did not care what she had done. Persis came to the conclusion that she did not care what he had done either. It seemed terrible and cold hearted to think so, but it wasn't just her sentient aspects that induced her to start believing that Zion did not really deserve the chances it had. Perhaps ignorance is bliss, she mused, perhaps I can forget.
Smith removed his dark glasses and stared at her meaningfully.
"Humans cannot be relied upon".
"Machines cannot understand", she returned, "perhaps exile is our only choice, as we do not belong to either world".
Smith smiled carnally, "I could change things here", he said looking around, "we could create our own".
Persis raised an interested eyebrow.
"You're that powerful now, Smith?", she teased.
The amused face drew closer.
"You cannot begin to comprehend".
"Then show me".
Persis gripped the thick cut glass tightly in her hand. It was almost frightening, seeing herself in the dream, willing to let all human life be destroyed and starting anew with Smith by her side. She saw the darkness spreading over the world; she saw stormy skies and driving rain. She stood in the shadows as Neo and Smith fought, rain pouring down on them both, her eyes willing the sentient programme on and glaring at the black clad human as if a look could kill. She did not know if the images were dreams or visions of what was to come. Persis saw herself descend into a crater awash with rain and mud, and snapping a metal pole in half, proceed to ram it, jagged end first into the back of a figure, she couldn't see who. Then it all blurred. She thought she saw herself wrapped around a rain drenched figure, pulling him closer into her embrace and then- was this another vision?- and then she stood, soaked to the bone as Smith stood imposingly over the prone form of Neo lying face up in the thick mud, water pelting onto his still face. The human world was doomed. The machine world would be ruled by them.
She witnessed her transformation; saw the gloriously dark future ahead of them. Persis watched as she became as malevolent and driven to wreak destruction as Smith, no more cream leather and noble aspirations, but black and dark blue silk and ties, sex and death in a sinuously sharp cut suit and pointed metal heeled boots under her perfectly pressed bootcut trousers. Her metamorphosis into Persis; veritably the bringer of destruction, like one with Smith as they gorged on devastation, power and each other, as beautiful and merciless as-
And there she woke up.
As Persephone, she thought, her mind on fire with the notion. The next Persephone and Merovingian.The last two beings I want to become even minutely like to. The image of herself in that black and dark blue suit, all silken and deadly, and of Neo lying in three inches of mud, rainwater and his own blood came back to haunt her.
It had seemed so real. Was it a dream, or something more? Was it a sign of things to come if her resolve wavered, and she gave in to the gnawing pain that grew with every hour not spent with Smith?
You lost everything because of him once, she reminded herself, this may be a vision of what you could gain because of him. But is that what you want?
Her hand shook and the glass shattered in her palm. Persis looked down as if in a trance, slowly registering the sharp pain and she opened her hand and the shards slipped from her grasp, cutting into her skin.
Blood seeped from the cuts. A thought struck her quite unexpectedly.
Forgive me, she whispered to the broken vessel, I know now what I must do.
********
Hermes ran, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, his breath growing slowly more and more ragged. He'd been running for a long time now. The computer systems on the Olympus didn't have enough power to position him as near to the point as he would
have liked. They were preoccupied with the war. He could almost envisage them charging the EMP as he ran, ever closer.
Sooner or later he would have to drop to street level. There was the danger. Agents were everywhere.
Hermes wasn't sure he would make it. Zion needs to be warned, he told himself. He gritted his teeth and jumped off the building to the streets below.
He shot down, changing his positions as he did so, finally winding round an open-air pipe and hitting the ground running. He dashed past people on the street, just going about their lives as he had done. He had been an errand boy for a computer hardware store, devoting his spare time to computers and the forbidden art of hacking. He thought he ran past the self same store as he pelted towards the drop off point.
How strange life was, sometimes.
Then without warning, two agents stepped out from the building to his right. Hermes froze. The agents walked towards him. Hermes closed his eyes for the inevitable but prepared himself to run to the post box no matter what. Hermes tensed every muscle in his body for the sprint to the post box. The agents approached, getting ever closer, and then-
Inspiration. Hermes fired repeatedly from his twin guns, slowing the agents down as they dodged the oncoming hail of bullets. He ducked down an alleyway and made for the alternative route to the drop-off. It would take longer, but if he was lucky, he could lose the agents in the twisting streets. Hermes crashed through the front window of a shop and rolling across the floor, got up again and rain for the back door and the main street crammed with people. He ran for the lit up front of a bar at the end of the street.
Hermes burst through the side door and ran through the kitchens to the front of the bar. He emerged, panting, pressed against the panel of the swing doors, receiving curious looks from the customers sitting at tables and at the counter.
Persis looked sideways at the young man in the dark brown leather jacket and black trousers, his sunglasses like a thick band of dark lens across his pale face. She stood up slowly as he reloaded his guns, thrusting the clips in with a frantic energy,
"You're Hermes, aren't you?"
He looked up in shock at the woman in the agent suit in front of him.
"Who the hell are you?" he breathed.
"I am Persis", she replied in even tones.
"Jesus Chri-" he began, fear seeping through every pore.
Persis looked around and saw the upgrades walk through the door. She whipped around to Hermes.
"Go. I'll hold them off".
Hermes looked at her, aghast, uncomprehending.
Persis glared at him.
"GO!"
Hermes pelted off in the opposite direction, winding his way back to the drop-off point. The upgrades halted as Persis strolled leisurely towards them, drawing her gun smoothly from its holster with languid informality.
"A little lacking in efficiency, aren't we?", she mocked, "you still haven't managed to terminate me".
"The programme is altered. She remains human. Do we proceed?"
"Yes. Leave her, the messenger must be stopped".
Persis threw herself forward, firing as she did so. The agents swung in impossible angles to avoid the onslaught pouring from her gun. Persis jumped high as they returned fire, emptying their clips at her as she ran along the length of the bar, bottles crashing everywhere, glass splintering on the floor. Persis leapt off the bar and swinging on a ceiling beam, gained momentum and kicked out at the agents' heads at she dismounted, began a furious routine of attacks on all three as they advanced on her. Punch, kick, roundhouse kick, chop, cartwheel backwards, leap into the air-
Bullet time slowed everything down she executed a magnificent pike jump to avoid the sweeping kicks of the first agent, and throwing her legs wide, landing smoothly on the floor, her legs in perfect lines in front and behind her as she did the splits. Ducking the punches of the agents she drew her legs up with impossible ease into a standing position and, gripping the one agent's head in ruthless fingers, brutally twisted his head round. The crack of a neck vertebrae snapping echoed in her brain. How many have I killed like that? Persis wondered. She kicked out at the remaining agents, using the first's useless form as a shield, viciously stabbing at their stomachs with the heels of her shoes and the points of her toes.
When they dropped prone to the floor Persis looked up and realised that time was pressing. It was then that the world seemed to spin round her and nearly every light across the city sparked out for a select few lining a long stretch of road. She hadn't been expecting that, but she knew what to do.
Darkness had fallen.