And then came Clique and Iron, as I sat at the terminal in shock. They
were a mismatched pair. Clique, as she later introduced herself, was
barely five feet tall. With her heavy clothing on, I still doubted that
she even weighed ninety pounds. She looked to be about forty, but her
hazel eyes appeared even older. Her short brown hair had gray streaks in
it, and the frown lines around her mouth eased as she smiled at me. Clique
did not possess beauty, not in the traditional sense, anyway. Her face was
rather narrow and pointy, and she lacked anything resembling feminine
curves. Instead, she exuded that aura of control, of comfort with herself
that only comes with time and experience.
The man I would soon know as Iron towered over Clique. (Well, that's probably not exactly a good comparison; he towers over everyone.) He was younger than his companion, maybe thirty or so. He had a pierced eyebrow, three silver hoops in his lower lip, and several in each ear. His hawkish features were set stonily, his bald head shining in the dimly lit computer area. I received the impression that he was ready to spring into movement at a second's notice.
As a pair, they would have attracted much more attention than I did with my getup. Yet, as I looked around the nearly empty library while making my way to the door, no one seemed to notice either them or me. Weird. Still on edge from my conversation on the black screen, I slammed to a halt right as I reached the door.
My stunned mind, while switching to automatic defensive mode, had not stopped to put two-and-two together. 'It's time, Aero.' I saw those green letters slowly appear across my mental screen in vivid clarity. Just a coincidence that a hacker-type and a bodyguard approach me seconds later?
"Get a grip, Marie. Just slow down, and get a grip." I murmured to myself, shoving a lock of my long, black hair back behind my ear. What are the odds? This was a public place, not too many safer places, in my opinion. Could I be passing up a major opportunity? Would it really hurt to listen for a second? I could always walk out again. Or scream. All right.
I about-faced and walked back to the main computer terminal area. They were still waiting for me. The woman's smile faded as I sat down a safe distance away from both of them. "Do you know why you came back? I think perhaps I can explain better than you yourself."
"How did you know I spoke English?" I asked directly.
The ghostly smile returned. "I know a lot about you, Aero."
My face drained of blood. "How do you know that name?" I whispered.
"Will you come with us to a more private area so that I may explain?"
Okay. So following two strangers into a secluded area of the library wasn't the smartest thing I'd ever done. Just suffice it to say I had an instinct, and I followed it. Trusting my instincts is something I've always been able to rely on.
We sat amid high stacks of reference books and microfilm readers in an enclosed glass area. I rested my arms on the solid oak desk and met the woman's eyes above it. Something strange...
It hit me like a blast of cold water. "You're not cops, are you? Cuz I've done nothing illegal. I'm just a programmer."
She actually laughed. "Just a programmer? Hardly. But it is no matter; we are about as far from the police as you can get . We are...like you."
I processed this for a moment. The implications astounded. "Raine sent you?"
"Yes. It was he that located you, that watched you. He believes that you are special, the last person whom we have been waiting for. Maybe you are. His perception is greater than most. Come. We have a car outside."
He. Raine was a man. I filed that information away. "Look, I've got MACE on me, just so we're clear." I didn't, but how could they know that?
"You must believe this: it is we who need the protection from you." She stood.
I stared at her, then the giant, incredulous. Maybe she really was crazy.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a medium-sized sedan, which is to say medium-sized by Parisian standards. I was crammed into the back of the little car with the woman. The big guy was at the wheel. We were driving through evening rush hour, so it took us nearly half an hour to arrive at a very seedy looking Chinese restaurant in a darker part of town. Not a word passed between us on the drive.
The trend continued once in the restaurant. We were installed into a dimly lit booth in a back corner. None of us spoke until the waiter brought us our plates of greasy chicken and overcooked vegetables. My stomach was in no condition to try to down anything solid, and apparently the big guy didn't have such a problem. It was only then that we were properly introduced. I began.
"Since you already know so much about me, why don't you tell me who you are and what this is all about? I've had a hell of a day."
The woman smiled that sad smile of hers. "I am Clique, and this is Iron."
I looked down at my folded hands for a moment. Clique. Another name that had come up in my searches more than once. And Iron. I knew of him. He was an acquaintance of a friend from college. Or had been until his death three years earlier...
I stood abruptly. Iron looked up, startled. I got the impression that Clique was just waiting patiently, gauging my reaction. "No. I don't know what kind of shit this is that you are trying to pull, but I don't want any part of it. You--" I pointed at Iron, "or whoever the real Iron is, is dead. He drove off a bridge in Boston three years ago. I'm leaving." I grabbed my bag.
Clique's smile widened, finally reaching pale blue eyes. "You're right, of course. To the rest of your world, Iron did die in a car accident. But I have a hunch you fully realize that he has been present this long while. Surely your search has confirmed that. Sit back down, Aero, and I'll try to explain." The soft command in her voice was enough to halt me.
I warily slid back down, dropping my bag on the floor, eyeing Iron. "Fine. Explain."
"I assure that we are who we claim to be. But that is not the issue right now. You are."
I narrowed my gaze on her silently.
"As you surely have guessed by now, there is something out there. Something that you have not yet been able to grasp. Something wrong with the world. In the end, it is this unease that drives your search. Your need to find the ultimate answer. To explain what it is that will bring your heart peace. As all of us did, before our own respective moments, you know the question. It is the question that will free you, Aero. Do you know the question?" I closed my eyes. I knew the question. It was written across the backs of my eyelids, it was stamped so clearly in my mind that I knew there was no turning back. "What is the Matrix?"
The man I would soon know as Iron towered over Clique. (Well, that's probably not exactly a good comparison; he towers over everyone.) He was younger than his companion, maybe thirty or so. He had a pierced eyebrow, three silver hoops in his lower lip, and several in each ear. His hawkish features were set stonily, his bald head shining in the dimly lit computer area. I received the impression that he was ready to spring into movement at a second's notice.
As a pair, they would have attracted much more attention than I did with my getup. Yet, as I looked around the nearly empty library while making my way to the door, no one seemed to notice either them or me. Weird. Still on edge from my conversation on the black screen, I slammed to a halt right as I reached the door.
My stunned mind, while switching to automatic defensive mode, had not stopped to put two-and-two together. 'It's time, Aero.' I saw those green letters slowly appear across my mental screen in vivid clarity. Just a coincidence that a hacker-type and a bodyguard approach me seconds later?
"Get a grip, Marie. Just slow down, and get a grip." I murmured to myself, shoving a lock of my long, black hair back behind my ear. What are the odds? This was a public place, not too many safer places, in my opinion. Could I be passing up a major opportunity? Would it really hurt to listen for a second? I could always walk out again. Or scream. All right.
I about-faced and walked back to the main computer terminal area. They were still waiting for me. The woman's smile faded as I sat down a safe distance away from both of them. "Do you know why you came back? I think perhaps I can explain better than you yourself."
"How did you know I spoke English?" I asked directly.
The ghostly smile returned. "I know a lot about you, Aero."
My face drained of blood. "How do you know that name?" I whispered.
"Will you come with us to a more private area so that I may explain?"
Okay. So following two strangers into a secluded area of the library wasn't the smartest thing I'd ever done. Just suffice it to say I had an instinct, and I followed it. Trusting my instincts is something I've always been able to rely on.
We sat amid high stacks of reference books and microfilm readers in an enclosed glass area. I rested my arms on the solid oak desk and met the woman's eyes above it. Something strange...
It hit me like a blast of cold water. "You're not cops, are you? Cuz I've done nothing illegal. I'm just a programmer."
She actually laughed. "Just a programmer? Hardly. But it is no matter; we are about as far from the police as you can get . We are...like you."
I processed this for a moment. The implications astounded. "Raine sent you?"
"Yes. It was he that located you, that watched you. He believes that you are special, the last person whom we have been waiting for. Maybe you are. His perception is greater than most. Come. We have a car outside."
He. Raine was a man. I filed that information away. "Look, I've got MACE on me, just so we're clear." I didn't, but how could they know that?
"You must believe this: it is we who need the protection from you." She stood.
I stared at her, then the giant, incredulous. Maybe she really was crazy.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a medium-sized sedan, which is to say medium-sized by Parisian standards. I was crammed into the back of the little car with the woman. The big guy was at the wheel. We were driving through evening rush hour, so it took us nearly half an hour to arrive at a very seedy looking Chinese restaurant in a darker part of town. Not a word passed between us on the drive.
The trend continued once in the restaurant. We were installed into a dimly lit booth in a back corner. None of us spoke until the waiter brought us our plates of greasy chicken and overcooked vegetables. My stomach was in no condition to try to down anything solid, and apparently the big guy didn't have such a problem. It was only then that we were properly introduced. I began.
"Since you already know so much about me, why don't you tell me who you are and what this is all about? I've had a hell of a day."
The woman smiled that sad smile of hers. "I am Clique, and this is Iron."
I looked down at my folded hands for a moment. Clique. Another name that had come up in my searches more than once. And Iron. I knew of him. He was an acquaintance of a friend from college. Or had been until his death three years earlier...
I stood abruptly. Iron looked up, startled. I got the impression that Clique was just waiting patiently, gauging my reaction. "No. I don't know what kind of shit this is that you are trying to pull, but I don't want any part of it. You--" I pointed at Iron, "or whoever the real Iron is, is dead. He drove off a bridge in Boston three years ago. I'm leaving." I grabbed my bag.
Clique's smile widened, finally reaching pale blue eyes. "You're right, of course. To the rest of your world, Iron did die in a car accident. But I have a hunch you fully realize that he has been present this long while. Surely your search has confirmed that. Sit back down, Aero, and I'll try to explain." The soft command in her voice was enough to halt me.
I warily slid back down, dropping my bag on the floor, eyeing Iron. "Fine. Explain."
"I assure that we are who we claim to be. But that is not the issue right now. You are."
I narrowed my gaze on her silently.
"As you surely have guessed by now, there is something out there. Something that you have not yet been able to grasp. Something wrong with the world. In the end, it is this unease that drives your search. Your need to find the ultimate answer. To explain what it is that will bring your heart peace. As all of us did, before our own respective moments, you know the question. It is the question that will free you, Aero. Do you know the question?" I closed my eyes. I knew the question. It was written across the backs of my eyelids, it was stamped so clearly in my mind that I knew there was no turning back. "What is the Matrix?"