He was there the next day, and she couldn't resist letting out a squeal of delight that he was waiting for her. As uncomfortable as he looked, standing resolutely black and white in the midst of all the colors of the park, she was pleased to see him. She told him as much, and he looked at her as though she had grown cat ears, switched her hands for feet, and started walking around on both.

"Let's go to the park," she suggested, taking his arm and moving him in that direction. "I know where there's a perfect place to play chess."

Pause. "Chess?"

"We don't have to play if you don't want to. I just thought it'd be a nice thing to do while we talk."

Another pause. "Talk?"

"Yeah... what did you think we were going to do? Eat ice cream?" She paused. "That's actually not a bad idea. We can if you want. I just enjoy talking with you."

He didn't seem to know what to say to that.

"And I think you enjoy talking to me," she said pertly.

"I..."

"Go on, deny it."

There was a much longer pause as they navigated traffic... well, he navigated and she flung herself into it... and he visibly tried to decide exactly how he should explain things to her. Finally he seemed to settle on an explanation. "I am under investigation and..." barely discernible pause. "Medical leave. There was... an accident in the workplace. I am somewhat at loose ends for the moment."

"So you decided to spend time with me?"

"I decided that I would attempt to develop..."

"People skills?" she snarked.

"If you wish," he replied, unperturbed. "It is the general opinion of those I have asked that talking to you will be beneficial in that area."

"I'm flattered. And a bit disturbed that your friends are talking so much effort to look into your personal life, not to mention mine..."

"They are not my friends."

Pause. "Uh. Doesn't that bother you?"

Flat. "I have no personal life. No friends. Therefore it cannot bother me."

She paused at the edge of the park, and he stopped and looked back at her. "No friends?"

"No."

"No personal life?"

"None."

Her voice was soft. "How sad."

He shrugged and continued along, expecting her to follow. After a few seconds, she did. "I don't require a personal life."

"Everybody needs a personal life."

"Not me."

She skipped ahead of him, ending up perched on a stone bench in front of which a stone chess table was situated. Green metal chairs were scattered over the area, and there were only a few others playing chess in the park at the moment. "Not even to take a break, relax, play chess in the park on a day as nice as this?"

Pause. "The day is adequate."

"The day is adequate..." she smiled, mimicking kindly. "You don't take any enjoyment from the weather being so nice? The sky is clear, the temperature is good, there's a slight breeze..."

"No." He sat down at the opposite end of the table from her.

"Why?"

"There is no point."

"Even if the weather has been absolutely crappy for the last three months, cold and drizzling and a wind that chills you down to the bone, there's no point in going outside and enjoying the change of pace, the sunshine, the fact that now one can do things outside without being cold or wet or both?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because... he started, then stopped in mid thought. "Changes in the weather will happen. It is pointless to attach moods to them."

"Why?"

He scowled. "Because to attach emotions to weather is to be at the mercy of things beyond one's control."

"And that's a bad thing I take it?"

"Human beings attach too much importance to the weather, and then they spend a great deal of time and effort attempting to change it, time and effort that would be better spent attempting to change other things. The end result is that the entire ecosystem is shattered beyond repair, changed not for the better."

She wasn't smiling anymore. "Some human beings only try to live in the world and take joy in its variations and diversity, not change it."

"I have never met any of them."

"You have now."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Yes."

Pause. She pulled out a box from her tattered leather handbag and started to set up the chess pieces. The Agent picked one up and examined it with care, balancing it on the tips of his fingers. One side of chess pieces appeared to be carved of green jade, the other of tiger's eye, the rarer blue variant. The king, queen, and bishop pieces were excellently carved busts, while the knight was of a horse rearing on its stand. The castle was still a castle, but instead of the usual cylindrical tower it was an almost organic-looking spire, again carved with intricate detail.

"Do you like them?"

He looked over at her. She didn't appear to be watching him, but he got the uncomfortable impression that she was. "Excuse me?"

"The chess set. The pieces." She did look up at him now, through her pink heart-shaped glasses. He realized with a sudden startlement that her eyes were mismatched, blue and green. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. "Do you like them?"

"It is skillfully done." He set down the piece he had been holding, irritated with himself for having displayed an interest in it and for having failed to notice her eyes.

"That's not what I asked."

"I am not permitted to express enjoyment in the skill of the artist?"

"You are, of course, but that's not what you said. You said the chess set was skillfully carved, not that you appreciated it or enjoyed looking at it because of the fact."

She was precise anyway. He hadn't expected that kind of specificity from a human. "Oh. That is what I meant."

Eyebrows arched upwards. "Hmm."

He scanned through his mind for something appropriate to say or do at that moment. Somehow the conversation had gotten out of his control, and although it was more intriguing than anything he had gotten out of a human so far, he didn't like the fact that she was eluding all attempts at coercion.

Something leapt out at him as appropriate, and he palmed two pieces and held his hands behind his back. "Pick one."

She stared at him as though he'd finally done something interesting, smiled slowly, and tapped his left arm. "That one."

He held out the tiger's eye piece, and they switched sides. She promptly flipped the chair around and sat on it backwards, leaning her arms on the back even though this caused her skirt to hike up to mid-thigh.

"Isn't that a little... undecorous?"

She shrugged. "Are you embarrassed?"

"No." It was the truth. He didn't feel embarrassment.

"Then neither am I." She moved a pawn piece and watched him, waiting for him to make a move.

He took what he thought was an appropriately long time to 'decide' on a move and set his pawn piece out. She smiled a little, and he wondered why.

"Interesting technique."

"The game has barely started."

"A game of chess can be decided in the first five moves, if both players are aware enough."

"Shouldn't that be 'skilled enough'?"

"Not necessarily." She moved again.

"Why?" Pause. Move.

She looked up at him, reached out her hand to move a piece, then drew back and tucked it in between arm and side. "Sometimes a person can be aware of how the game is going despite not having the slightest idea what she should do in order to have the outcome of the game be what she wants it to be. Likewise, sometimes a person can be aware of the exact moves he must make to win, but he can't see or isn't aware enough to see how the game is going and how his partner will react. Do you understand?"

Blue-green eyes stared at him with an intensity he didn't like. But... "Yes."

"Good." Move.

Silence. Move. "You seem to be skilled at chess, however."

She shrugged a little. "I used to play in parks a lot when I was little. People taught me things." She smiled. "And an eccentric history teacher in high school taught a course in it once."

"I see." He didn't, but that was all right. He was here to observe and record, not to understand.

She moved. "Do you have a first name, or is 'Agent' your first name?"

His hand froze in the act of reaching for a pawn. "I have a name."

"Well, what is it? I try not to call my chess partners by their job titles. If for no other reason than most of them actually don't have job titles."

Pause. If he'd had a brain, he'd have been racking it for an answer. "John."

"John Smith." She snorted, a noise that he knew meant either amusement or derision, or possibly both. "That's creative."

He made his move, recovering his composure. "And what is your name?"

She looked up at him and grinned sheepishly. "Solace. I know, silly name, but what can I say. My parents were big into the whole peacenik thing. Flower-child generation."

"It is an unusual name."

"It is an unusual name."

"That's not fair. You're supposed to say something like, it's a nice name. Or, it's a pretty name."

"Oh." Pause. "It is a beautiful name."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You think?"

Pause. "Of course."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Silence. Birds called to each other. Chess pieces clacked quietly against the table. "Whether or not you appreciate it, it is a beautiful day," she said finally, her soft voice making it sound almost like a rebuke.

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The temperature is pleasant. The sun is shining, but not too brightly, and when it comes through the trees it is aesthetically pleasing. There is a little wind but, again, not enough to make it too cold. And the bird song is also aesthetically pleasing. All of the environmental factors combine to create a pleasing atmosphere for the human mind and body. Therefore we find it pleasant. And relaxing."

He looked sharply at her. There was something in her voice... did she know? He couldn't query back to the mainframe, but a search of his memory (which was very nearly up-to-date still) revealed no known Resistance member by the name of Solace. And she didn't seem to be Resistance, she seemed perfectly unaware of the Matrix. Lastly, and most convincing, she had not responded in the manner that all Resistance members had when confronted with an agent: either by fighting or by running. In fact, she seemed to evince no fear when he was around her, merely a sort of sadness and amusement. She was probably just expressing sarcasm. "Ah."

"Granted," she continued, castling as he paid more attention to the shift of her eyes and the muscles in her face than her moves at chess, "Some human beings find other things pleasing. There is a very wide range of such things, in fact... so wide that there seems to be no logical connection. But then, I suppose that is the beauty that is the mystery of life." She looked up at him intently. "Isn't it?"

"I suppose." He watched her, slim and tapered fingers moving the chess piece without giving it much thought.

"I often think that if we were all the same, life would be incredibly boring."

"As would your concept of life without change."

"Yes."

"And if there were no differences, there would be no need to accomodate those differences, and therefore, no change."

"Exactly."

"But if there were no differences and no change, then there would also be no conflict. Something which seems to be distasteful."

"True. But conflict is sometimes necessary. Many things that are distasteful are often necessary... birth is painful, but necessary. Growth, likewise. Eating and drinking and the related activities are occasionally impractical and annoying, but it is necessary to take energy from somewhere in order to survive. Energy does not come from nowhere... that's basic physics."

Pause. "You are strange."

"Thank you."