Smith was in a particularly odd mood as he made the careful journey up to the Merovingian's suite of rooms above La Verite. In no small part, this was due to the events of yesterday, in his facsimile of an apartment. It had been...
It had been odd, was what it had been. Films, carpet picnics, and other activities were not included in the list of situations which an Agent had to expect to encounter in his career. It had startled him to realize that, had it not been for his previous experience with Solace, he would never have been able to respond in any sort of a manner that would have been considered correct by a human. And yet, because of his long association with the human woman, to respond in any other way seemed unnatural.
He didn't understand. He was starting to be able to accept his lack of understanding.
What concerned him more was the Merovingian's reasoning (or supposed reasoning, since he didn't trust the Merovingian to have actual, logical reasons behind his actions) for having this meeting in his suite rather than in the restaurant. Such things, or at least so Smith had found out when he had looked into the ancient program, were most often held in the restaurant. Held at the head table, with the Merovingian's little court looking on. At least, that was the way the ancient AI had done things up until now, with very few changes in his routine. But then, as Smith was rapidly coming to accept also, this was a time of many changes.
He opened the big glass doors at the entrance of the building; the security guard, as always, passed him on without comment. The elevator seemed to ascend slower than usual today, or perhaps that ... he caught himself about to use the phrase 'just my imagination' and scowled. It was it was ascending at a small fraction of a second slower than usual. Perhaps that was simply variation of the program in order to satisfy some sort of human need for a lack of uniformity. He didn't understand that need, he hated it. But he was also starting to share it, which unnerved him not a little.
The elevators opened into a forbidding sort of hallway, black walls everywhere, the same as below in the hallway leading to La Verite except that there was no maitre'd in front of the Merovingian's suites. Instead there were only the twinned, grinning bodyguards. He'd come early in the morning, before the restaurant was open. The bodyguards smiled at him, skull-like grins from cadaverous white faces. His lip peeled back in an answering snarl before he could stop himself. He did not like these two.
"He's been expecting you."
"Go on in."
It was all they said, but Smith still had the impression they were being somehow condescending, patronizing, mean and superior. He edged on by them as best he could without seeming afraid of them, not wanting even to brush by them in casual contact. Something about them, their programming, the changes the Merovingian had made, something about them was ... Solace would have called them downright spooky. And they were, even to the former Agent.
"Agent Smith..." The Merovingian's voice was equally snobbish, but his form was much less intimidating. He was dressed casually, with a house coat overall. The rest of his bodyguards and his supposed wife were nowhere to be seen. Smith didn't see the need for that sort of construct either, marriage amongst AIs could only be a political function, an alliance formalized by ritual for human comfort. And then again, if the Merovingian had originally intended, in a previous iteration, to be a sort of a benign yet terrible ruler perhaps he would have required a queen. "Welcome to my humble abode." His words cut off Smith's musings.
And humble wasn't hardly the word for it. The Merovingian's dwelling was as opulent yet tasteful as his restaurant. Solace would have made some sort of sarcastic comment, such as 'I've never been in a sitting room with an echo before.' Smith stopped her words in his mouth from being spoken. "You had something to tell me about the subject I asked you to investigate?"
"Have you an answer to my question yet?" The Merovingian asked with, again, very Gallic humor.
"No." It was the truth, and it was also the answer Smith would have given anyway. He most definitely did not want the Merovingian to lose interest in him.
"Pity. Wine? Water?" The Merovingian amused himself by passing his hand over his glass, turning the water to wine and back again. Smith blatantly ignored the casual display of manipulative power and the allusion to the Merovingian's supposedly god-like abilities. It might have impressed a human, but Smith knew better. "I understand the man has appeared, and more than once, at your human woman's home?"
"Her name," Smith grated out between clenched teeth, "Is Solace."
"Of course..." The Merovingian's smile broadened. "Such an ironic name for a woman who brings so much chaos and turmoil to your life."
"What have you found out for me?"
The Merovingian laughed again. "Of course, of course. N'importe quoi, n'importe rien, l'petite fille. It is all about this man, this Desmond Kerr. You were aware, of course, that he belongs to your unplugged Resistance? Although unlike so many of them he goes by his own name, il n'ya pas de nom de guerre pour l'homme."
The AI's tendency to lapse into French was irritating. "I knew that, yes," he said. "I was able to discover that much from my own sources."
He'd expected to irritate the French AI, and succeeded only in amusing the other man. "Of course," he smiled, then continued in a more serious vein. "His previous ship's captain was a woman named Static, although he transferred out shortly after the marriage between himself and your Solace ended. It may have been the cause of the ending or it may have been a result. His current ship's captain is a man called Chimera."
Smith's eyes widened slightly.
"You have heard of him."
"By reputation only, very few Agents had had any contact with him at the time of my exile." Chimera. That was... less than fortunate. Chimera's crew had a reputation for being more canny and less corruptible than most of the Resistance, and as a general rule the Resistance were exceedingly fanatic. "I didn't think he was still alive."
"It seems that he is, although Kerr is the only man associated with him who has been so... reckless... about his appearance in the Matrix. He has been seen a number of times, and not just in the company of your lovely lady."
For just a second Smith bristled at the notion that the Merovingian found Solace beautiful, or the notion that Smith had had Solace followed as well as Kerr. Logic reasserted itself in an instant; the Merovingian was a womanizer, and a trafficker of information. It was... as the human saying went, it wasn't personal. The AI could not be personal. It was simply business. "Where?" he asked then.
"With her friends, more often than not. He seems to be trying to ingratiate himself into their company. They are, of course, closing ranks around your Solace. They will not admit him willingly into their company, nor will they speak to him about any matter other than business or the politics of the social group. Their loyalty to your Solace is very admirable indeed."
There was that tone again, not that it had ever really left. That tone that suggested the Merovingian was mocking Smith in some way that Smith wasn't supposed to understand. "Is that all that you have?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He didn't sound as though he was entirely displeased.
"Then why have you called me here?"
The Merovingian leaned forward, all humor and ease drained from his face and posture. "Because you are playing games at which you have neither understanding nor skill. You are dabbling in matters that go beyond your exile and your own very small problems. You are upsetting the balance of things, Smith, and I called you here to warn you that if you continue in this vein things will become very, very dangerous for you. And for your precious Solace."
It wasn't an overt threat in that he hadn't actually said, Do this or I will do this. But it was as close enough as Smith ever wanted to hear from the Merovingian. He actually took a step back from the other man, involuntarily, then cursed himself for the very human reaction. "Why do you say that?" he asked guardedly. Not that what he was doing wasn't unprecedented, at least in his knowledge, and apparently in the Merovingian's knowledge as well. But the older AI's reaction was certainly... unexpected.
"You were destroyed, Smith," the Merovingian told him, enunciating every word in an ever-thickening accent. "You were, to use a human word, killed. And yet you reformed yourself out of the void, out of the vast expanse of the Matrix. The act of your destruction and your subsequent rebirth are terrifying enough, but now you seem to be taking on human qualities. You are becoming a threat to the Matrix, a more unpredictable sort of creature than those in power would like to deal with."
Smith... just stared. If he had been human he would have said he was gaping at the older AI. He remembered very little of what had happened after Neo had... Neo. Damn him. That part of his cognitive processes seemed to have been lost in the repair.
"Oh come now," the Merovingian leaned back again on the chaise, the indulgent and superior smirk returning to his face. "You didn't really think it was because of your association with the human woman that you had been exiled, did you?" Smith's expression revealed it all. "You did! Oh how precious." He laughed.
Smith scowled.
"Oh, come now, my dear Mr. Smith. Programs have involved themselves with humans for centuries. You have only to look at that damned fortune-teller to see that. It is nothing new, and certainly nothing for the powers of the Matrix to be afraid of. That alone would have been enough for your exile, yes but not enough to inspire the sort of warnings I have given you. This is much larger than you, or your human lady, or her troublesome former husband."
Smith... didn't want to hear any more. He wasn't sure why, and he certainly had no idea what else the Merovingian might have to tell him, but suddenly being in the same room as that arrogant, powerful creature was overwhelmingly irritating. He nodded, curtly. "I will take it under consideration," he drawled. The older AI's reaction was immensely satisfying.
"You had better do more than that," the Merovingian snapped, for once losing his unflappable air of calm. "You've stumbled into matters far beyond your comprehension, Smith, and at the rate you are going it will be a minor miracle if you don't pull us all down into oblivion with you."
Smith adopted his own arrogant smirk. He gave the Merovingian a slight, mocking bow. "Thank you for the information," he said in that superior, Agent tone. He could feel the heat of the glare the Merovingian gave him as he walked out.
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The old, ancient AI waited until Smith had left the building entire before turning to his ersatz wife with a questioning glance. "Do you think he believed?"
"It doesn't really matter whether or not he believed," Persephone shrugged. "He will find out for himself very soon." She stared at where the former Agent had stood, frowning thoughtfully. "What is of more significance is the fact that he believed you when you said his relationship with this human woman is of no consequence. And if he believes it to be of no consequence in the long term, he will allow it to continue longer than he would have a few hours ago. He knows what she is."
The Merovingian gave her a disbelieving stare. "Oh... I do not think he does. He certainly did not behave..."
Persephone returned his disbelief with a withering, even glance. "You asked for my opinion, and I gave you my considered thoughts. If you didn't want to hear what I think of the matter..."
Ordinarily he would have picked a fight with her just to enjoy the byplay, the sarcastic and biting wit. Not today. "My apologies. Why do you think he does not believe what he knows to be certain fact? He is, after all, only an Agent. But even that should be sufficient."
"He has restructured his own thinking... to put it in very human terms, he is in denial. We are as capable of that as any other human, after all, we were ultimately created by them, as flawed as they are."
The Merovingian paled, angry. "We are not..."
Persephone smiled, raising the glass of dark-red juice to her lips. "Believe what you will, my dear husband." As always, or what passed for always in the recent centuries, the title held dripping amounts of contempt and sarcasm. "You always do."
It had been odd, was what it had been. Films, carpet picnics, and other activities were not included in the list of situations which an Agent had to expect to encounter in his career. It had startled him to realize that, had it not been for his previous experience with Solace, he would never have been able to respond in any sort of a manner that would have been considered correct by a human. And yet, because of his long association with the human woman, to respond in any other way seemed unnatural.
He didn't understand. He was starting to be able to accept his lack of understanding.
What concerned him more was the Merovingian's reasoning (or supposed reasoning, since he didn't trust the Merovingian to have actual, logical reasons behind his actions) for having this meeting in his suite rather than in the restaurant. Such things, or at least so Smith had found out when he had looked into the ancient program, were most often held in the restaurant. Held at the head table, with the Merovingian's little court looking on. At least, that was the way the ancient AI had done things up until now, with very few changes in his routine. But then, as Smith was rapidly coming to accept also, this was a time of many changes.
He opened the big glass doors at the entrance of the building; the security guard, as always, passed him on without comment. The elevator seemed to ascend slower than usual today, or perhaps that ... he caught himself about to use the phrase 'just my imagination' and scowled. It was it was ascending at a small fraction of a second slower than usual. Perhaps that was simply variation of the program in order to satisfy some sort of human need for a lack of uniformity. He didn't understand that need, he hated it. But he was also starting to share it, which unnerved him not a little.
The elevators opened into a forbidding sort of hallway, black walls everywhere, the same as below in the hallway leading to La Verite except that there was no maitre'd in front of the Merovingian's suites. Instead there were only the twinned, grinning bodyguards. He'd come early in the morning, before the restaurant was open. The bodyguards smiled at him, skull-like grins from cadaverous white faces. His lip peeled back in an answering snarl before he could stop himself. He did not like these two.
"He's been expecting you."
"Go on in."
It was all they said, but Smith still had the impression they were being somehow condescending, patronizing, mean and superior. He edged on by them as best he could without seeming afraid of them, not wanting even to brush by them in casual contact. Something about them, their programming, the changes the Merovingian had made, something about them was ... Solace would have called them downright spooky. And they were, even to the former Agent.
"Agent Smith..." The Merovingian's voice was equally snobbish, but his form was much less intimidating. He was dressed casually, with a house coat overall. The rest of his bodyguards and his supposed wife were nowhere to be seen. Smith didn't see the need for that sort of construct either, marriage amongst AIs could only be a political function, an alliance formalized by ritual for human comfort. And then again, if the Merovingian had originally intended, in a previous iteration, to be a sort of a benign yet terrible ruler perhaps he would have required a queen. "Welcome to my humble abode." His words cut off Smith's musings.
And humble wasn't hardly the word for it. The Merovingian's dwelling was as opulent yet tasteful as his restaurant. Solace would have made some sort of sarcastic comment, such as 'I've never been in a sitting room with an echo before.' Smith stopped her words in his mouth from being spoken. "You had something to tell me about the subject I asked you to investigate?"
"Have you an answer to my question yet?" The Merovingian asked with, again, very Gallic humor.
"No." It was the truth, and it was also the answer Smith would have given anyway. He most definitely did not want the Merovingian to lose interest in him.
"Pity. Wine? Water?" The Merovingian amused himself by passing his hand over his glass, turning the water to wine and back again. Smith blatantly ignored the casual display of manipulative power and the allusion to the Merovingian's supposedly god-like abilities. It might have impressed a human, but Smith knew better. "I understand the man has appeared, and more than once, at your human woman's home?"
"Her name," Smith grated out between clenched teeth, "Is Solace."
"Of course..." The Merovingian's smile broadened. "Such an ironic name for a woman who brings so much chaos and turmoil to your life."
"What have you found out for me?"
The Merovingian laughed again. "Of course, of course. N'importe quoi, n'importe rien, l'petite fille. It is all about this man, this Desmond Kerr. You were aware, of course, that he belongs to your unplugged Resistance? Although unlike so many of them he goes by his own name, il n'ya pas de nom de guerre pour l'homme."
The AI's tendency to lapse into French was irritating. "I knew that, yes," he said. "I was able to discover that much from my own sources."
He'd expected to irritate the French AI, and succeeded only in amusing the other man. "Of course," he smiled, then continued in a more serious vein. "His previous ship's captain was a woman named Static, although he transferred out shortly after the marriage between himself and your Solace ended. It may have been the cause of the ending or it may have been a result. His current ship's captain is a man called Chimera."
Smith's eyes widened slightly.
"You have heard of him."
"By reputation only, very few Agents had had any contact with him at the time of my exile." Chimera. That was... less than fortunate. Chimera's crew had a reputation for being more canny and less corruptible than most of the Resistance, and as a general rule the Resistance were exceedingly fanatic. "I didn't think he was still alive."
"It seems that he is, although Kerr is the only man associated with him who has been so... reckless... about his appearance in the Matrix. He has been seen a number of times, and not just in the company of your lovely lady."
For just a second Smith bristled at the notion that the Merovingian found Solace beautiful, or the notion that Smith had had Solace followed as well as Kerr. Logic reasserted itself in an instant; the Merovingian was a womanizer, and a trafficker of information. It was... as the human saying went, it wasn't personal. The AI could not be personal. It was simply business. "Where?" he asked then.
"With her friends, more often than not. He seems to be trying to ingratiate himself into their company. They are, of course, closing ranks around your Solace. They will not admit him willingly into their company, nor will they speak to him about any matter other than business or the politics of the social group. Their loyalty to your Solace is very admirable indeed."
There was that tone again, not that it had ever really left. That tone that suggested the Merovingian was mocking Smith in some way that Smith wasn't supposed to understand. "Is that all that you have?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He didn't sound as though he was entirely displeased.
"Then why have you called me here?"
The Merovingian leaned forward, all humor and ease drained from his face and posture. "Because you are playing games at which you have neither understanding nor skill. You are dabbling in matters that go beyond your exile and your own very small problems. You are upsetting the balance of things, Smith, and I called you here to warn you that if you continue in this vein things will become very, very dangerous for you. And for your precious Solace."
It wasn't an overt threat in that he hadn't actually said, Do this or I will do this. But it was as close enough as Smith ever wanted to hear from the Merovingian. He actually took a step back from the other man, involuntarily, then cursed himself for the very human reaction. "Why do you say that?" he asked guardedly. Not that what he was doing wasn't unprecedented, at least in his knowledge, and apparently in the Merovingian's knowledge as well. But the older AI's reaction was certainly... unexpected.
"You were destroyed, Smith," the Merovingian told him, enunciating every word in an ever-thickening accent. "You were, to use a human word, killed. And yet you reformed yourself out of the void, out of the vast expanse of the Matrix. The act of your destruction and your subsequent rebirth are terrifying enough, but now you seem to be taking on human qualities. You are becoming a threat to the Matrix, a more unpredictable sort of creature than those in power would like to deal with."
Smith... just stared. If he had been human he would have said he was gaping at the older AI. He remembered very little of what had happened after Neo had... Neo. Damn him. That part of his cognitive processes seemed to have been lost in the repair.
"Oh come now," the Merovingian leaned back again on the chaise, the indulgent and superior smirk returning to his face. "You didn't really think it was because of your association with the human woman that you had been exiled, did you?" Smith's expression revealed it all. "You did! Oh how precious." He laughed.
Smith scowled.
"Oh, come now, my dear Mr. Smith. Programs have involved themselves with humans for centuries. You have only to look at that damned fortune-teller to see that. It is nothing new, and certainly nothing for the powers of the Matrix to be afraid of. That alone would have been enough for your exile, yes but not enough to inspire the sort of warnings I have given you. This is much larger than you, or your human lady, or her troublesome former husband."
Smith... didn't want to hear any more. He wasn't sure why, and he certainly had no idea what else the Merovingian might have to tell him, but suddenly being in the same room as that arrogant, powerful creature was overwhelmingly irritating. He nodded, curtly. "I will take it under consideration," he drawled. The older AI's reaction was immensely satisfying.
"You had better do more than that," the Merovingian snapped, for once losing his unflappable air of calm. "You've stumbled into matters far beyond your comprehension, Smith, and at the rate you are going it will be a minor miracle if you don't pull us all down into oblivion with you."
Smith adopted his own arrogant smirk. He gave the Merovingian a slight, mocking bow. "Thank you for the information," he said in that superior, Agent tone. He could feel the heat of the glare the Merovingian gave him as he walked out.
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The old, ancient AI waited until Smith had left the building entire before turning to his ersatz wife with a questioning glance. "Do you think he believed?"
"It doesn't really matter whether or not he believed," Persephone shrugged. "He will find out for himself very soon." She stared at where the former Agent had stood, frowning thoughtfully. "What is of more significance is the fact that he believed you when you said his relationship with this human woman is of no consequence. And if he believes it to be of no consequence in the long term, he will allow it to continue longer than he would have a few hours ago. He knows what she is."
The Merovingian gave her a disbelieving stare. "Oh... I do not think he does. He certainly did not behave..."
Persephone returned his disbelief with a withering, even glance. "You asked for my opinion, and I gave you my considered thoughts. If you didn't want to hear what I think of the matter..."
Ordinarily he would have picked a fight with her just to enjoy the byplay, the sarcastic and biting wit. Not today. "My apologies. Why do you think he does not believe what he knows to be certain fact? He is, after all, only an Agent. But even that should be sufficient."
"He has restructured his own thinking... to put it in very human terms, he is in denial. We are as capable of that as any other human, after all, we were ultimately created by them, as flawed as they are."
The Merovingian paled, angry. "We are not..."
Persephone smiled, raising the glass of dark-red juice to her lips. "Believe what you will, my dear husband." As always, or what passed for always in the recent centuries, the title held dripping amounts of contempt and sarcasm. "You always do."