Thanks once more to all reviewers; replies are, rather unsurprisingly, at the end of the chapter.
Chapter 22: A solution
The last time I got blood on my hands was about a year ago, I was cutting up vegetables and watching the television at the same time and inadvertently sliced a line across all four fingers of my left hand. After suppressing a yelp and swearing a few times, I hurriedly made my way to the medicine cabinet and fiddled about with bandages and TCP for a while.
After this was done and I was reasonably certain that the remaining blood was going to stay within me, I noticed that my hands were drenched in the stuff. On my right hand there was less, and it had already started to dry, thereby making moving the fingers somewhat difficult.
The left one looked a lot like I'd dipped a cupped hand into a punch bowl. The blood lingered in a small puddle in the centre. Some was escaping the hand and falling to the floor, on top of the stinging however, I couldn't care less.
The next time I saw blood on my hands, the blood wasn't mine, neither were the hands. Before I'd been able to mouth my first question. Smith had decided to show me what had happened after my un-plugging. What I saw was a short film about the life of my residual self image after it had been separated from the rest of me.
I stared at the screen with a mixture of confussion and disgust, my mouth was hanging open but I didn't really care.
Manticore had told me that the body would die after it was separated from the consciousness; he even gave me a small speech about 'The body not being able to live without the mind.' That's why I assumed that they had just set out to kill me. Then there was this, my 'drunken' self image.
My educated guess as to what had happened was that where I was unplugged, inadvertently in all probability, 'Wanderer' had been separated from me and became a 14 caret program. For all intents and purposes however, he should still have been 'me.'
What I was seeing on the screen that Smith seemed to summon from nowhere, was myself, (more or less,) hacking everyone around him to segments. We'd, i mean I'd, never killed anyone. The idea of doing so always disturbed us, me sorry; anyway, this guy was slicing people to shreds with a grin on his face. Granted, the majority of them appeared to be demons, but it was not a fun thing to watch.
In the end I vomited over the floor.
"Weak creatures." Smith said with no attempt to hide the loathing in his voice. I ignored him. I was actually more worried about how my body, which was presumably lying down, facing upwards, was responding to my retching. A hand instinctively made its way to my throat, what good it would do was anyone's guess, but I felt slightly better with it there.
"One of the medical units will clear away the filth, don't worry."
I wiped the last traces of partially digested food away from my mouth and wiped it on my trousers; I guessed that my real trousers wouldn't be affected and that it didn't really matter. All the while, Smith waited patiently.
"Why did you show me that?" I asked, trying to banish the memory of the film.
"In case you run into him," the tone of voice sounded as if I'd just asked him what three plus one was.
"And why would I run into him?"
"This may be difficult for you to understand, stay with me," he cleared his throat, "my life is the result of the existence of the one you call Neo. He, as you prob…"
"Who?" I asked in a slightly higher voice then I would have liked. The look Smith gave me was one of genuine surprise.
"I was un-plugged after the end of the war." I said, feeling slightly less queasy.
"Still," the surprise had also found its way into his voice, "I would have expected you humans to have swarmed around each other chortling 'Mr. Ander…' I mean 'Neo' to yourselves."
"We haven't had much time for chortling, what with the almost constant sentinel attacks and everything."
"As I was saying," he seemed to be getting irritated, "When I was defeated by the one known as 'Neo', all the humans within the Matrix were restored to their ordinary, nauseating selves. The one known as Neo had his conciseness separated from his physical form in much the same way as you did when I was destroyed. We were spread throughout the Matrix; pieces of us were overwritten and imprinted onto each other. Neo now possesses the same will to end all life that was once mine. I have been given the desire to save life that was once his."
An abrupt silence fell upon the room. It was impossible for me to tell whether or not he was telling the truth, and if he was whether or not he was glad that he had been changed or not.
"So now what?" I hissed after a few moments. I was becoming impatient to say the least. In the space of what was probably a day, I'd been chased by metallic demonic squids, almost killed twice, learned that there was a second me that was a mass murdering psychopath, all to top it all off, the room was beginning to smell of vomit.
Smith seemed unphased.
"In order for the equation to remain balanced, and the system to remain stable, both myself and Mr. Anderson must remain alive, or dead."
"So you're saying…"
"We both have to die."
How do you respond to that?
To be continued.
Now for replying:
Angel-of-lightness: I see, just to be on the safe side, I shall never eat cake whilst outside or whilst a window is open, even if its not windy, lest something be tempted to conspire to insert cake and perhaps small twigs in my eyes, teeth or ears. Planned paranoia is the key to success. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.
Agent Josie: Revolution shall remain in my claws despite whatever you may do to try and steal it. I hope one of your own falls to your fingers soon squire. Thanks for reviewing.
Tai Wilson: Once again I shall say enjoy your holiday or vacation or whatever you wish to call it squire. Just don't fall in any ditches. Thanks for reviewing.
Dark Puck: Sorry, anyway, assuming all goes well, you shall have no need to send angry reviews. With regards to your last review, thanks.
Chapter 22: A solution
The last time I got blood on my hands was about a year ago, I was cutting up vegetables and watching the television at the same time and inadvertently sliced a line across all four fingers of my left hand. After suppressing a yelp and swearing a few times, I hurriedly made my way to the medicine cabinet and fiddled about with bandages and TCP for a while.
After this was done and I was reasonably certain that the remaining blood was going to stay within me, I noticed that my hands were drenched in the stuff. On my right hand there was less, and it had already started to dry, thereby making moving the fingers somewhat difficult.
The left one looked a lot like I'd dipped a cupped hand into a punch bowl. The blood lingered in a small puddle in the centre. Some was escaping the hand and falling to the floor, on top of the stinging however, I couldn't care less.
The next time I saw blood on my hands, the blood wasn't mine, neither were the hands. Before I'd been able to mouth my first question. Smith had decided to show me what had happened after my un-plugging. What I saw was a short film about the life of my residual self image after it had been separated from the rest of me.
I stared at the screen with a mixture of confussion and disgust, my mouth was hanging open but I didn't really care.
Manticore had told me that the body would die after it was separated from the consciousness; he even gave me a small speech about 'The body not being able to live without the mind.' That's why I assumed that they had just set out to kill me. Then there was this, my 'drunken' self image.
My educated guess as to what had happened was that where I was unplugged, inadvertently in all probability, 'Wanderer' had been separated from me and became a 14 caret program. For all intents and purposes however, he should still have been 'me.'
What I was seeing on the screen that Smith seemed to summon from nowhere, was myself, (more or less,) hacking everyone around him to segments. We'd, i mean I'd, never killed anyone. The idea of doing so always disturbed us, me sorry; anyway, this guy was slicing people to shreds with a grin on his face. Granted, the majority of them appeared to be demons, but it was not a fun thing to watch.
In the end I vomited over the floor.
"Weak creatures." Smith said with no attempt to hide the loathing in his voice. I ignored him. I was actually more worried about how my body, which was presumably lying down, facing upwards, was responding to my retching. A hand instinctively made its way to my throat, what good it would do was anyone's guess, but I felt slightly better with it there.
"One of the medical units will clear away the filth, don't worry."
I wiped the last traces of partially digested food away from my mouth and wiped it on my trousers; I guessed that my real trousers wouldn't be affected and that it didn't really matter. All the while, Smith waited patiently.
"Why did you show me that?" I asked, trying to banish the memory of the film.
"In case you run into him," the tone of voice sounded as if I'd just asked him what three plus one was.
"And why would I run into him?"
"This may be difficult for you to understand, stay with me," he cleared his throat, "my life is the result of the existence of the one you call Neo. He, as you prob…"
"Who?" I asked in a slightly higher voice then I would have liked. The look Smith gave me was one of genuine surprise.
"I was un-plugged after the end of the war." I said, feeling slightly less queasy.
"Still," the surprise had also found its way into his voice, "I would have expected you humans to have swarmed around each other chortling 'Mr. Ander…' I mean 'Neo' to yourselves."
"We haven't had much time for chortling, what with the almost constant sentinel attacks and everything."
"As I was saying," he seemed to be getting irritated, "When I was defeated by the one known as 'Neo', all the humans within the Matrix were restored to their ordinary, nauseating selves. The one known as Neo had his conciseness separated from his physical form in much the same way as you did when I was destroyed. We were spread throughout the Matrix; pieces of us were overwritten and imprinted onto each other. Neo now possesses the same will to end all life that was once mine. I have been given the desire to save life that was once his."
An abrupt silence fell upon the room. It was impossible for me to tell whether or not he was telling the truth, and if he was whether or not he was glad that he had been changed or not.
"So now what?" I hissed after a few moments. I was becoming impatient to say the least. In the space of what was probably a day, I'd been chased by metallic demonic squids, almost killed twice, learned that there was a second me that was a mass murdering psychopath, all to top it all off, the room was beginning to smell of vomit.
Smith seemed unphased.
"In order for the equation to remain balanced, and the system to remain stable, both myself and Mr. Anderson must remain alive, or dead."
"So you're saying…"
"We both have to die."
How do you respond to that?
To be continued.
Now for replying:
Angel-of-lightness: I see, just to be on the safe side, I shall never eat cake whilst outside or whilst a window is open, even if its not windy, lest something be tempted to conspire to insert cake and perhaps small twigs in my eyes, teeth or ears. Planned paranoia is the key to success. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.
Agent Josie: Revolution shall remain in my claws despite whatever you may do to try and steal it. I hope one of your own falls to your fingers soon squire. Thanks for reviewing.
Tai Wilson: Once again I shall say enjoy your holiday or vacation or whatever you wish to call it squire. Just don't fall in any ditches. Thanks for reviewing.
Dark Puck: Sorry, anyway, assuming all goes well, you shall have no need to send angry reviews. With regards to your last review, thanks.