Destiny
Disclaimer: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…
Following on from Purpose, it'll probably only make sense if you've read that first.
Spoilers for Matrix Revolutions.
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The Matrix was the perfect construction. A simulation so detailed and sublime that it was inseparable from 'true' reality, to the human mind at least. It could be the very haven that unthinking mankind had originally destroyed. To them it might be the nearest, tangible paradise that they would ever know.
To the machines or rather, the programs within, it would be the only reality that they would ever know. To the virtual machine after all, virtual paradise was the real thing. Without the vast network of subroutines and augmentations they would cease to exist and surely that would be as terrible to their kind as the destruction of the human world was to its mortal destroyers?
The duality of the argument was only a problem when the subject of mortal versus machine was the point on which the entire argument turned. Or so it seemed to Agent Brown. At least he still thought of himself as 'Agent Brown' though currently that description was probably less than accurate. He was nothing but pieces of code, strung together in a functioning format, that wasn't quite what he had originally been designed to be. Of course, he wasn't supposed to be in the current state he was in either.
"You are ruminating on matters that do not concern us, Brown."
That was Agent Jones, or at least the section of code that still called itself 'Agent Jones'. A section of fragmented code that, like Brown, was not meant to continue in the fashion that it was currently doing.
"I am analysing the pertinent information. We must have accurate strategic analyses available should they need to be consulted."
Brown shrugged, metaphorically.
"Smith has not requested these analyses."
"He does not need to request them."
Jones looked at Brown. His inscrutable gaze felt on some basic level.
In the physical construct several Smith's smirked in unison as Brown twitched under Jones' gaze. Half a dozen others observed the strategic analysis. A few even looked at Brown too. To external observation they did nothing of note appearing almost introspective, which was in a sense accurate. Agents Brown and Jones no longer existed within the physical construct and according so several system analyses they didn't exist any more at all.
The 'new' Agents, the upgrades, had received the information that the two who had failed, had been erased. They understood that the program, Smith had to be removed as well. Before it became detrimental to the System, before it became as unpredictable as certain calculations said that it might become. Unfortunately, removing the program, Smith was proving far more difficult than was usually the case with independent programs.
Smith had broken free of the System, true but somehow along the way he had acquired certain capabilities that were steadily decreasing the chances of destroying him. Initially it was to be expected that he might suddenly show bursts of unpredicted independent action that might prove advantageous but only up to the point. The accumulating mutations should have eventually led to his breakdown. Yet strangely, this wasn't the case. The rogue program was retaining an unprecedented level of stability.
Within the framework of code that was the imprint of Agent Smith there were certain spaces. These were bundles of code that while not being part of the original program, were suspiciously similar to an Agent template. Within one such space the projected image of a room made for a meeting place for the phantoms of three of the Systems' original programs.
The room seemed nothing more than an office in a miscellaneous government building that commanded an impressive view of the city. In the room two Agents waited for the arrival of a third. Jones sat behind a desk, sunglasses on, hardwire in place and stared straight forward. Standing further across the room, slightly turned towards the windows Agent Brown, similarly attired, stood motionless.
They waited.
"He will not come." Jones said at length.
"Then we should transmit the data." Brown didn't turn round.
"Transmit to where, Brown? It is not as if Smith is unaware of your analysis."
"Perhaps he has overlooked…"
"We may no longer serve the System directly but we are still Agents. We do not overlook anything."
"The acquiring of multiple…" Again Brown paused.
"Personalities?"
"Hosts."
"Hosts then."
"The acquiring of multiple hosts may be interfering with system analysis. The processing of data may be taking longer than it should."
"What is there to process? We will have acquired every active host within 96 hours, 8 minutes, 36 seconds. And then there will be no further objectives to initiate."
"We will have destroyed everything."
"Yes."
Brown finally turned to face Jones. The larger Agent stood up and made his way to the door.
"Were there any other alternatives, Brown?"
"There are infinite possibilities, Jones. This is only one of many."
Jones simply left, closing the door behind him.
"There are infinite possibilities. Any other number of variations that could be chosen but for the simple fact that an Agent can choose only one."
As it happened there wasn't long to wait for the inevitable. In the pelting rain, facing both his victory and his defeat Smith knew the irony of believing that there was a choice.
"It's not fair."
He stood by and watched everything unravel, hearing a distinct voice in his ear, quiet but insistent.
"It is destiny. It was never going to be fair."
And in the end he didn't need eyes to see the solemn look directed at him that was just as eloquent as the words.
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Brown being the one to do the talking while Jones just looks is like the designations of Strategic and Combat programs that I invented for earlier fics. It's just a given.
03:36, 29/11/03