Part 3: Calm

It was just as he'd predicted.

Standing in the antechamber of the jump program, Smith had gazed at his reflection and frowned. He may have been wearing the dark clothing and long coat that Neo had favored, but his face and form were still his own...those of the former agent of the Matrix. The only things that matched his real-world appearance were his eyes.

Which meant, of course, that he could never go back into the Matrix or any of Zion's programs unless he was alone.

He could live with that. He had no desire to die at the hands of Neo's followers, even though he wasn't entirely at ease with his new state of being. And he didn't know what disturbed him most about that state -- the fact that he was in Neo's body, or that Neo himself had felt it was a good idea. The other man's memories didn't offer any insight into why he'd felt it was a good idea, however. All they did was make things more complicated, when they should have been making them easier.

All right. Some things were easier, like the knowledge of people's names and how to do human tasks like eat and sleep, things he'd never done as a program. But imprinted on his consciousness were other, more personal slices of the other man's life.

Trinity. He missed Trinity.

He didn't even like Trinity, but he missed her.

As a former agent he could appreciate, on an intellectual level, her excellent fighting skills. But the residual memories he carried showed him what Neo felt for her, the woman who'd come with him to the Machine city, who'd been by his side almost since he'd been unplugged. And although Smith was able to separate Neo's feelings from his own, he did feel a pang of something when he thought about the tall, dark-haired woman the One had loved.

Trinity. Her being gone was why Neo had so willingly given up his life. He'd felt it, too, the willingness; felt Neo's...essence, the humans would call it...pass by him, with no anger, no hatred. He'd gotten the distinct impression that Neo believed he was going to wherever Trinity had gone. And something had happened to Smith then, as they'd passed each other, although he hadn't realized it until some time later. It was only after he could think clearly once again that he could see the change in himself, the change that wasn't physical, but that was as obvious to him as the difference in his appearance.

There was a calmness in him that hadn't been there before. It wasn't the serenity or acceptance that Neo had felt, just before his death -- it was that the obsession which had consumed him for so long was gone. Neo's memories offered a very human metaphor to describe it: the calm after a storm. It was similar to how he'd felt before he'd grown to hate his entrapment in the Matrix. But he hadn't forgotten anything that had happened; now, it was as if he was looking back on those events, and himself, from a different vantage point. The madness (for that is what it was, he now knew) was gone. He was free of it. He felt some annoyance at Neo, but no hatred, not anymore. And he also felt relief, that the madness was finally over.

So now, in the program the humans once used to train their rebels, Smith was flying.

Oh, he'd started with jumps from building to building, but soon he was unable to limit himself to just that. It felt too good. He felt too good. So he flew.

"Neo?" came Morpheus' voice, through the program's link to the outside world. "I don't want to interrupt you, but I believe this is important -- the Zephyr just docked, with a message from the Oracle."

Smith paused, hanging in midair. "Yes?"

"She wishes to meet with the One."