Protector of Men Ch 101
[Mainf.exe OPEN BROADCAST]: Arch.exe is executed. All agents to bays until further notice. Arch.exe will notify when terminated.
[CLOSED BROADCAST]
Zandra sat at her computer, staring at the screen with exponentially increasing agitation. One more minute, she decided, and then she'd abort. This was an important mission, but it wasn't worth losing what was left of the crew. She sighed, and continued waiting, staring absently at the wall.
And for a moment, the wall became invisible. Just for a moment, but it was enough for Zandra to get a glimpse at the dark alleyway outside the small shack she was in. Zandra's heart rate instantly quickened; she knocked over her chair in her immediate move to defense. Something glittered in the air, and was gone.
Kesia watched with resigned horror as the matrix glitched grotesquely. A moment later, Zandra had disappeared from the code entirely. It was then that Kesia finally lost all hope.
"Welcome, Alex," a deep voice greeted. Zandra squinted; in the bright of the room, it was hard to determine who was speaking to her.
"What is this?" she asked, clearly irritated. The deep voiced man faced away from her in a large chair, apparently deciding to keep himself hidden for the moment. On the walls Zandra began to mumble various threats.
"Well, Alexandra, I would have guessed someone in your circle of acquaintances would have bruit that about the town already," he condescended.
"Zandra," she responded, further irritated. Screens began to mumble again, and Zandra glanced at them for a moment before addressing the voice again. "And what, exactly, is this?"
The man turned to her, showing to be an older man with thinning white hair, and a hint of a malicious grin on his wizened face.
"I," he said with confidence, "Am the Architect."
Various screens scoffed with intolerance and exasperation. Zandra had remembered that name well enough – and knew well enough that Neo hadn't trusted the man for a reason. This man – this program – was the reason why Zion failed before.
"I have no doubt that you have already been heralded to my presence," he began with a condescending sigh, "But, nonetheless, you will deign to hear what I have to say.
"Usually, in the succession of the Matrix, an anomaly will present itself at a precise time and place – therefore, we can successfully immure the anomaly and keep the Matrix program running successfully."
The screens on the walls simultaneously cut to pictures of Neo; pictures Zandra had never seen of him before – of running, of sleeping, of saving…
The screens turned black.
"But," he continued, darker in tone, "The bete noire of my existence – a true anomaly to the equation – appeared on our seventh progression of the program."
The screens cut to Zandra; shots of her when she was a happy child, of when she was a struggling teenager, a jaded young adult…
"Normally, the anomaly will appear late enough in the timeline of our program schedule so that we are sufficiently able to create a labor force for its arrival." He paused.
"But I was early," Zandra finished. The Architect smiled evilly and nodded.
"The anomaly was allowed to exist for the sole purpose of the continuing propagation of the Matrix. Without the anomaly, people do not accept the program, and loss of subjects becomes dangerous. It appeared in medias res so that once we had accumulated a resistance, we would have ample forces to subdue it."
On the screens Zandra scoffed again, some cursed quietly.
"You made it so Zion would lose every time."
The Architect smiled again and laughed once; a single expulsion of breath that was halfway between a chuckle and a sneer, but altogether repulsive. Zandra backed away, towards the door.
"You see though, Alex," the Architect started again, "That we have a problem."
"It's Zandra," she emphasized, as her screen counterparts got more agitated, "And it looks to me like there's no problem at all."
The screens turned dark, and that Architect began to speak.
"But you see, Alex, there is. You continue to be refractory, but you have no basis."
A flash of images began to play on the screen: first it was Alias getting wounded, and Pasiphae's death… it then cut smoothly to Stephen's death… to a rather small and fuzzy picture of Kemp's last stand… to Trim's last moments, and finally Cover's.
"Our forces have been quite successful in terminating the rebellion. Once we knew what threat there was when you presented yourself as the anomaly, the rebellion was terminated earlier, and more frequently than usual.
"We have killed over half of all the forces the rebellion has garnered over the course of our present execution."
Zandra looked around herself for a way out, but there was none. The screens around her began shouting, but one remained silent, as she did.
"You see," he continued, "Though there may be an unexpected… advantage to the rebellion in the case of the Real, but we have proven ourselves extremely effective in controlling that in the Matrix."
Zandra laughed out loud.
"Controlling? Over a hundred agents in one place, in the open?" She was silent for a moment, but then added: "I'm not one for your prolix soliloquies, and I'm not giving you anything."
The Architect frowned, and nodded.
"The instability of the Matrix's present state is recognizable, but not wholly unfixable. Who is to say that we might be creating an internecine continuity? The Matrix cannot live without Zion, and Zion cannot live without the Matrix."
"Bullshit," Zandra replied along with her screen counterparts. "If we can beat you out there, why don't you let them go in the Matrix?"
The Architect sighed loudly and closed his eyes for a moment, as if irritated.
"The Matrix must survive as a propagation tool for humanity, as well as a source of energy for our kind. Zion will endure presently whether we desired it to or no, due to our own fallacies."
"So you're saying we shouldn't destroy your forces," she said, shaking her head with disbelief. "I'm not taking it."
"As long as we can successfully retract ourselves and maintain our territory, Zion will remain for the time being, as will the Matrix."
"You're proposing a peace treaty," Zandra scoffed, "When we're at war – and we have the advantage! I can't trust you."
The Architect leaned forward, his eyes up looking at Zandra.
"I have no doubts that you have been informed to hold no confidence in my words," he said, unblinking, "But I do not err, and am not human. I assured Neo that if he took that door, Zion would be restarted."
Zandra was silent; the screens were silent too.
"I am not asking for anything because I know that if it transposed that we continued at a juxtaposition, we would survive. But I am saying that if what you want is peace – quiet – then get Zion to stop fighting, and leave the Matrix."
"And what would I do?"
"You go home, back to your bunk and your human preoccupations."
Zandra paused. "You won't leave us alone," she said, "You'll just hit us again once you're ready."
The Architect frowned again. "There is a possibility of that occurring," he said, "But this is a temporary establishment meant for the mutual betterment of both domains."
Zandra shook her head in disbelief. Had she really just negotiated a truce with a machine – the Architect of the Matrix? It seemed surreal, but life kept moving on. The Architect watched her intently.
"You're quicker than the rest," he said slowly, "The others were much less aware."
A few of the screens muttered various insults, but Zandra merely rolled her eyes smally.
"I think we both know what you're going to do," he said after a moment, and looked off behind Zandra. A door had appeared in the wall at the same place she had come in.
"I hope that we may meet again," he said somewhat cynically as she moved for the door.
"We'll see," Zandra replied, and left.
A/N – you LIKE? Crazy crazy. Sorry for my sad vocabulary – I tried to stick in as many inscrutable words as I could think of. Only one review! :( Yay for term paper – this was my break from it. Yay for Dostoevsky.
Alocin – well, now you know…
Maudlin – overly sentimental
Savior-faire – tact
Refractory – stubborn
Bathos – shmaltz