Part 5: Agents

"It's for your own protection," Smith explained patiently, logically. "These agents are supposed to see to my safety, but they're not guaranteed to protect other humans. The danger is simply too great."

His exceptionally rational line of reasoning was met by multiple expressions of disbelief.

"Neo, how can you even think of going back in alone?" asked Link. "Even with all the assurances from the mainframe—"

"Until we know more, I don't want anyone else coming in. It's too risky," he said, hoping that none of his crewmates would press the issue. But they were still looking at him as if he was insane to even suggest going into the Matrix without them. It was frustrating. What was the use of being the One, if Neo's followers wouldn't listen to him?

Perhaps logic wasn't the key here. He'd learned that with humans, it often wasn't. He would try a more human tactic. "The Oracle did say to come alone," he pointed out.

That got their attention. There was some grumbling from the group, but there was really no arguing with that. And now that they were at broadcast depth, it was time for the One to re-enter the Matrix. With or without backup.

"You'll be monitoring me the whole time," Smith added, leaning back in the chair and preparing himself for connection. "You'll be able to warn me if you see anything coming, so don't worry." He paused. "I trust you."

Link nodded tersely. "Good luck, Neo," he said, but he still looked uneasy. So did the others, who also wished him luck, but Morpheus was silent. He just smiled that knowing smile of his...

...and then the real world faded away.

Smith blinked, and found himself on a virtual streetcorner inside of a virtual world. He was finally back inside.

He looked around. There weren't many people in the vicinity, and those who were didn't seem to have noticed his sudden arrival, at a payphone in front of a shop window. A quick check of his reflection in the glass confirmed that his appearance was the same as in the jump program. Agent Smith, in black clothes and a long black coat.

After making sure his gun was easily within reach, he flipped open his cell phone. "I'm in," he announced to the waiting crew.

"Are you all right, Neo?" asked Morpheus. "Your voice sounds a little...strained."

He winced. His voice was the hardest thing to disguise -- even if the people outside couldn't see what he looked like, they could still hear him, and he still sounded like himself. "I'm trying to remain inconspicuous," he said in a softer tone. "Well, as inconspicuous as someone dressed like me can be."

He heard a chuckle from the other end of the line. "We'll be tracking you," said Link. "You have an exit right there, at that payphone. If anything happens and you need another one, just yell."

He smiled. "I will."

And then he was on his own.

Smith looked around again, orienting himself. He and the agents were to meet at 11 AM local time at the designated coordinates, which happened to be within a public park -- a neutral location for all involved.

He started walking. It was actually rather pleasant to be in such normal surroundings, even though he knew they had no physical reality. It was a cool, crisp, sunny morning, but he resisted the urge to take to the air. He wanted to be inconspicuous, after all. No use giving the mainframe another reason to think he needed babysitting.

He shook his head at his continued usage of human metaphors, wondering which agents would be assigned to him. He wasn't particularly enthused about meeting them; his status as an agent-turned-virus would have made him very unpopular among system personnel. And he had no idea what they would think of his current state. But there was a brief flash of hope within him that perhaps Jones and Brown would be among them...although he didn't even know if they were still alive. Maybe they hadn't been deleted after all -- maybe they'd become exiles, or even stayed agents. (Even though they hadn't been able to help him in that first battle with Neo, which by now he had forgiven them for.) Their presence at the back of his mind had always been rather reassuring, prior to his disconnection from the system. Or perhaps the team would be made up of agents with a score to settle. It wasn't unheard of; even AI's could develop personal vendettas. Smith himself was the most obvious example of this, although it was far more common among the exiles. Hate, love, the desire for revenge...all could arise in his species, although perhaps not to the degree they did in humans.

Smith sat down heavily on a park bench, across from a fountain, feeling very exposed. Before, all he'd worried about was the possibility of humans wanting to shoot him. Now he realized that there might be agents shooting at him as well. And he wasn't looking forward to this visit with the Oracle. Maybe she would want to shoot him too.

With that thought in his mind, he almost missed the slight tingling at the base of his skull. It was a strange, prickling sensation that he couldn't identify – he'd never experienced anything quite like it, as man or machine -- until he finally realized that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

Agents.

Surprised at his ability to sense them, he turned in the direction he knew they'd be coming from. A few seconds later, he saw them...and was surprised again.

All three of them were female.

As they approached, he could see that all were wearing the typical sunglasses and grayish-green suits of system agents, but modified for the female form -- no ties, a different cut of the jacket and trousers, and high-necked white shirts. But they were obviously agents. He could see the outline of a gun at one's waist, and all three moved in that efficient, coordinated, deliberate manner he remembered so well.

The three moved to surround the bench, standing in a semicircle in front of him. Smith gazed up at them impassively. If they were trying to intimidate him, it wasn't going to work.

"I am Agent Collins," said the one in the middle. She was average height, with light brown hair, and was clearly the team leader. "This is Agent Chapman," she indicated the tall, fair-haired agent to her right, "and this is Agent Evans." This one was shorter, with hair that was almost black. "We are to take you to the Oracle."