Brief note; Sorry guys, I just don't know what's going on with this fic.  I can't seem to stop writing it, and my other fics are suffering.  Promise I'll update everything else really soon.

Ooh, yeah.  Disclaimer needed, I forgot.  I do not own any of the characters in this fic who have appeared in the matrix films, nor do I own the matrix world, and some of the ideas which The Project revolves around have been borrowed from the amazing William Gibson (most notably Virtual Light and Idoru, but Neuromancer, Count Zero and some others I can't remember also had an effect).  I'm sure you'll spot them when they come up.  The main thing I own is the style, of which I'm more than a little proud.

Hmm.  Additional note thingummy- I have spell checked this one, in proper English english, so if any of the words are wrong then it's either an optical illusion or because you're using strange American spelling.

And so, on with the story…

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There is a lone figure, perched precariously on the edge of a park bench, huddled up against the winter's damp, icy wind.  A laptop is balanced on the figure's knee and gloved fingers dance across the keys as light as promised snow.  The constant clicking of the keys disturbs the otherwise silent evening.

A brief gust of wind snatches the figures hood from its head and reveals it to be a woman, mid-twenties, looking utterly exhausted.  Bags under her eyes, eyes redder than just the wind could make them. Obviously, she's been crying, but she's stopped just now. 

Looking at her, anyone could see she's a mess.  Straggly hair, red eyes, ugly but undoubtedly warm heavy clothing.  Anyone could see she's upset, if anyone was watching.

As she continues the clicking of the keyboard it can be seen that someone is watching. 

Someone is always watching, of course, it's impossible to get away from that here, but this is a specific someone. 

He's crossing the park just now, hands in pockets against the cold.  Plain brown hair ruffled in the wind, plain white t-shirt, plain blue jeans, plain brown boots. 

Plainly, he doesn't want to be recognised. 

He reaches the woman and clears his throat uncertainly.  Standing there he looks just like an embarrassed teenager, whose been forced to apologise for something he isn't sorry for.

She looks up. 

"What?  Who are you, what do you want?" She runs the words together nervously, then sits still staring at him, waiting for a response.  When he finally speaks, it's as if the words must travel a great distance just to get said.

"You're in trouble.  You should go."  She stares. 

"Go? Go where? Why? What's going on?"  It seems to take him a couple of minutes to untangle her questions. 

"Anywhere not here.  Some people are coming to see you." Now she seems perplexed, but not worried.  Not yet.  

"Who's coming to see me?  Who are you?"  Again, the multiple questions cause him problems and she has to wait, plainly impatient, for an answer.

"Two people are coming.  Two different… factions.  One wants to talk to you and find out, as you do, what is going on.  The other will try to kill you."  Now she is worried.  Strangely, the queries she makes are clearer when she is nervous.

"How will I know which is which?"  He shrugs.

"I don't know.  I don't know what you will see when you meet them, only what I perceive to be true.  And I don't know which will arrive first, so you should go."

She frowns. 

"It's about the project, isn't it?" he nods slowly.  "But how are you involved?  I don't know you." Now he shakes his head and sighs. 

"It is about the project, and I am involved.  I can't tell you any more than that."  She stands up as he talks and carefully packs the laptop into its bag. 

"But who are you?"  He shakes his head again.  

"Dave."  She stares at him oddly and he smiles, a genuine grin that seems more frightening than any strange news. 

"You should go, quickly."  She nods uncertainly and leaves, quickly.  Better to go than stay there with possible strange people coming to get her and one strange person definitely already there. 

He watches her until she is a distant figure disappearing around a corner wall and smiles to himself. 

Then something rudely interrupts his pleased reverie. 

It's a hand, clenching his t-shirt under his chin and forcing him back up against the bench.

The hand belongs to some guy in a trenchcoat, who looks at Dave critically, then drops him unceremoniously.

"Where did she go."  It isn't a question; it's a threat and all the more worrying that the guy doesn't seem to feel that he needs to make the threat plain.  Dave grins cheerfully.

"I don't know, and if I did I wouldn't tell you."  There is a flurry of movement, and a click.  Anyone who's seen the guy in the trenchcoat before would be happy to know that they were right.  There could be 'anything under there', if anything translates as a gun. 

The grin hasn't left Dave's face, which seems to puzzle the man in the trenchcoat a little.  Dave stands and adjusts his t-shirt carefully.

"I know who you are, and I know what you have been doing.  I don't know why, but then I don't think you know that either.  I know you, and if you don't stop this so will everyone I know."  Man in a trenchcoat looks annoyed. 

"I assure you, unless you tell me where she is, you won't be telling anyone anything ever again."

Dave shakes his head sadly.  "There is nothing you can take from me or give me that could make me help you or stop me from telling everyone who and what you are.  Knowledge is power, and I know you." Now man in a trenchcoat looks angrier, but cautious.  Maybe some of it went in.  He shrugs, like it's all the same to him.  He's so cool, he doesn't need to care.

He turns and strides away.  Going in the wrong direction, but he doesn't know that and Dave certainly isn't about to tell him.

A crunch of gravel behind him and he turns around almost lazily to confront this new intruder.

It's a man in a suit.  Black tie, jacket, hair, sunglasses.  He gives Dave a look, then takes the sunglasses of.  Brown eyes glint strangely and Dave takes a step back.  Clearly this, at least, was unexpected. 

"Uh, where's the usual guy?  You must know him.  He's about so tall, wears a black tie, suit, sunglasses-"  The new man in a suit shakes his head impatiently.

"He has- retired.  I will be heading this- investigation now."  Dave stares at him.  Maybe it's the oddly misplaced pauses in the conversation, but he sounds a lot more menacing than the other one did.  Less human. 

"Oh, right.  Well, nice to meet you anyway.  I'll just be going then.  Bye."  As he speaks Dave backs away, then suddenly turns and flees.  The man in a suit sets out after him, but Dave, moving surprisingly unexpectedly fast, has already reached the tree line at the edge of the park.

When the man in a suit reaches the trees, Dave is gone. 

Footprint sunk deep into the thick cold muddy ground lead up to a small space between two tree, then stop.  

No prints lead away. 

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next chapter coming soon!  Give me your opinions- should I include some characters from Reloaded and Revolutions or not?  Review or email and tell me!