2-19-98
The Desert of the Real

Human instinct acted to keep people alive by telling them what, even this modern world, they could not and should not do. Instinct told them not to jump off cliffs that were too high because they didn't have wings; not to pick up hot coals because fire was friend and enemy all at once; not to hesitate when they felt threatened because there were many more things that could hurt you than you could hurt on your own. And, usually, instinct also said that bothering the biggest guy on the block was a monumentally stupid idea.

The Neb's crew paid attention when Dozer said something so blase as, "I don't think this is a good idea," with a certain crease in his brow. Even Trinity listened to him, though he suspected that was more because Morpheus did and she deferred to Morpheus. This was typically the case, which was the whole problem with this one exception. Morpheus lay on his medical table with a ghost wound from a sniper round. None of the regular guards would ever have gotten so close, so, once he'd been spotted, the Agents activated a sniper. Under his care, such a wound meant nothing more than some anesthesia and some stitches. Not too serious in and of itself.

It just meant that Trinity was in charge while Morpheus was under, and they still had another man in. Cypher had jacked in to take the hand-off from Morpheus. He would track their latest target, Neo, for about five to ten hours before passing him off to someone else. Cypher was competent, Dozer couldn't imagine he'd have any trouble finding Neo on his own without Morpheus' heads-up. But an Agent had just tried to kill Morpheus, and that meant they were playing a whole new game. Protocol demanded they drop their target fast and focus on triple-checking that all other members of the Resistance active in the area were safe.

"I'll do that," Trinity informed him. Not reassuring, not placating, not ordering, just letting him know while letting him know he had no choice in the matter.

"Trinity, that's not the way these things are done," Dozer grimaced as he closed the wound on Morpheus' shoulder with a final stitch. Damn it, he needed Tank. He was too much of a nice guy for Trinity to follow his lead, size be damned. Tank, Tank could talk the Devil back into Heaven and never lose his smile.

"It's the way we're doing it now."

"Cypher's in, let him do it. We can pick up on Neo again later..."

"And what if they pick up on him first while we're covering our own asses?" He settled on a frown, not sure how to argue with that. The Resistance and her fighters came first, but each candidate lost was one more blow to a crew barely holding itself together as was. If the Agents took out this guy after all the work they'd put into him, some people onboard the Neb would come to blows. Mouse and Cypher, for one. Apoc and Switch, too. Everyone was spoiling for a fight, taking sides over Neo. He and Tank couldn't understand it, but then they never understood what singled out the people Morpheus chose. He suspected no one on the Neb did; all the arguments were just efforts to prove otherwise.

"I don't like it. Two people in, greater risk. Cypher drops him for maybe an hour to leave messages around for our people, we pull him, signal Zion to see who we've missed or should expect to hear from, then we can come back to the surface. We're gone a maximum of four, maybe five hours." It was a good plan. If anything were going to happen to Neo, it would definitely happen in that time, sooner rather than later.

"No." She turned to leave. That was her whole argument. Why was she even talking at him then? Because that was what she was doing. Using him to figure out what she wanted to do instead of asking him what she should do. Because if she brought this up with Switch, next in the chain of command, Switch would tell her 'no' and then make good on it. However, he was just a medic, and she was his boss.

He sighed, his hands never faltering as he tied off his thread. "Switch is going to be pissed." It was her watch, too, after Cypher was done. No way would Trinity be able to talk her into doing the recall, ergo Trinity would have to do it herself and warn Cypher, if he didn't already know. Neo had been in the vicinity at the time, too. Way too much in the vicinity, actually. "Trinity, we've lost this guy already, haven't we?"

At the door, she repeated herself. "No. No, we haven't lost him yet."

"But we have," he admonished. We have. Agents would know he was there, would put two and two together and Neo would be gone even if she took these extra steps to ensure his safety. "We can't go back for him, now. Morpheus got too close, and he got busted too close. We've already passed him by once now, no way we can go back for him after this," he gestured helplessly at Morpheus' prone form.

"Yes, we can."

At times like this, facing odds such as they faced, Dozer wanted to hear a hint of uncertainty creep into her voice. He wanted each successive denial of the cold, hard truth to lose strength, to be less convincing. Such was never the case. It's why he didn't stop her, not now when he could--could give her a sedative, too, and risk the consequences later. Didn't stop her when he heard her barking orders at his brother downstairs. Tank would jack her in, as ordered, thinking nothing of it, though he knew standard procedure better than anyone else--especially among a crew so willing to ignore protocol.

"God, she's got the biggest hard-on for this guy," Mouse said, poked his head around the entryway.

"Shut up, Mouse." Trinity's love life was one of his favorite subjects, and he was not so easily deterred. As Dozer washed up, Mouse grinned at him from the doorway, hands in pockets, ears wiggling. "What, what?"

"Aww, come on, I heard you guys. You're thinking the same thing."

"Not in the way you are, Mouse. Big. Difference."

"Everybody thinks the way I do. They just don't admit it," Mouse pulled one hand from his pocket to wag a finger at Dozer. Dozer shrugged; indifference would spare him another one of the Great Mouse's diatribes about the pent-up sexuality raging in every human being. It was the kind of luxury only the single enjoyed. Marriage and family put a whole new perspective on sex and lust. Sex became a pleasure of opportunity, stolen when both partners had the time and the kids were asleep. Lust drove people mad in the mean time, so it was best not to indulge in it.

"Why don't you go help Tank, Mouse?"

"Help him what?" Mouse raised and dropped his bony shoulders. It bothered him, as a physician, that so few poddies ever put on much weight, even ones freed as young as Mouse. Dozer ate the same food they did, sometimes eating less to be sure they got more because they always looked like they needed it. One of these days, he was going to tie Trinity and Mouse to the bench in the mess and force feed them till he could find some fat on them. Their leanness struck him as unnatural; he felt more comfortable with Morpheus, Apoc, and Cypher, all of whom put on weight reliably.

"I dunno, kid, go learn something."

"Don't call me that," Mouse flinched at the name. That was his other regret, that Mouse had to flinch when reminded of his age. Seventeen years of life did not account for half of what Resistance fighters actually lived. Compared to his contemporaries in the Matrix, hell, even in Zion, Mouse was old, old man. He watched Mouse push off the doorway and scuttle away, presumably to 'go learn something' from Tank. That was good. Tank would find a way to talk Mouse of his funk, and, hopefully, any jokes he planned to make at Trinity's expense. They would get back to her; they always did.

"Dozer," Morpheus said quietly, coming around. He reached for Morpheus' wrist, taking the pulse. Slow but regular and strong. He relaxed somewhat.

"Trinity's not pulling Cypher out."

"Explain." He summarized it. Morpheus did not open his eyes while he recounted her refusal to drop Neo in favor of their friends.

"She's crazy, Captain."

"Is she?"

"This isn't right. Someone else is going to get hurt. I know she can take care of herself and all, but what about Cypher? Or anyone else in the Matrix right now? They might not know what's happened." He shook his head. "This just isn't right."

Morpheus cracked one eyelid open, his pupils dilated but fixed on Dozer. "This is right, Dozer. It's finally, finally right."

"Don't try to get up just yet. Give it a few more minutes at least." The sedative wore off fast--it had to so people could be up and functioning as soon as possible--but not too fast. And if Morpheus tore his stitches, it meant repeating the surgery over again. Morpheus acquiesced, waiting out a goodish length of time before he asked for and received Dozer's help sitting upright.

"What do you want to do once we get them out of there?" He jerked his head towards the door, indicating the two in the Core, still plugged in.

"We'll have to report to Zion, immediately," Morpheus frowned and not from pain. "I want to be sure our people are out. Once we get confirmation, we'll have to explain this accident." That meant time off in Zion, and Dozer's mind flew to Cas. Morpheus' thoughts undoubtedly jogged more in the general direction of what type of reprimands he would have to endure. "This is going to take a lot of finessing before it's okay with the Commander"--another wince--"if it ever can be. But we can't stop now."

"And if they kill him?"

Morpheus' face went gray. "They can't." He slid to his feet and left, gait unhindered by any traces of the drugs in his system. Dozer wanted to follow him to the Core, provide moral support. But Tank was there, and that was enough. He needed to be here instead. Just in case. For when the next body needed to be repaired. No small part of him fully believed he would be needed. And soon.