CHAPTER 4

"Ready?" called Trinity from the small bathroom. She wasn't entirely sure why she was bothering with her appearance, but it was the first time she'd gone to any public gathering in Zion since the end of the war, and she didn't want to give the people any more reason for slander. She poked her head out of the bathroom to find Neo still sitting on the bed in his pajamas. She sighed and took one last glance in the mirror. She had never once felt beautiful, though every man she'd ever met insisted on telling her that she was. The gray top she'd opted for looked strangely light after a year of only black and dark blue, but she'd decided it was time to end mourning. It was the first time she'd seen her hair loose since she'd let it grow, and suddenly she wondered if the people would even recognize her. Better, perhaps, if they didn't.

Trinity stepped out of the bathroom and made her way over to Neo, resting her hands on his shoulders. He turned toward her instinctively, though she knew he couldn't really see her face.

"Neo…they're expecting us."

He nodded again, more slowly this time, but didn't move.

The party was being thrown partially to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the war's end, and partially to celebrate Neo's recovery. It promised to be horrendous.

"Neo…"

"I'm not going," he muttered at last, so softly she wondered for a moment if she'd really heard.

Trinity sighed and sat down beside him. In the weeks following his recovery, he'd been plagued by a constant stream of questions and demands both from the council and from people who still expected him to lead. He had no answers for any of them, had no idea how to go forward now that the prophecy had been fulfilled, and no one could simply accept this. They all insisted on believing that he was holding back some secret wisdom. Neo had responded by rapidly becoming a recluse, holding back even from her. He'd stopped eating, stopped sleeping, spend most of his time simply staring straight ahead, unseeing.

"Neo, you have to." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it between both of hers. "They're never going to change if you don't prove them wrong."

He laughed bitterly.

"Prove what, Trinity? That I have nothing to offer them? That I'm a fraud?"

She leaned in to kiss his neck, but he pulled away roughly, as if he'd been slapped.

"Neo…you know I didn't mean it like that. You're not a fraud. We just…don't know what you are yet."

Neo rolled his eyes at her, and she shuttered at the strangeness of the gesture. It was so utterly familiar, so much so that she had to keep reminding herself he could not really see. He sighed.

"I just…this is going to sound strange."

Trinity laughed.

"You think after fifteen years working for Morpheus you can weird me out? Go ahead and try, flyboy."

"At first I didn't even want to have the responsibility…but then…as things started falling into place it got to be…I don't know, exhilarating. I'm not used to having people listen to me. Notice me. Respect me. I'd never felt like I could make a difference before. Like I could matter. I told myself it wasn't about the fame, and mostly it wasn't, but now…now I don't know if I can go back to being Mr. Anderson, the hacker geek who lives alone."

"Neo…" She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, ignoring him when he tried to pull away. "I understand, it's natural that this isn't going to be easy. But no one is asking you to go back to where you were before. I don't care how hard you push. I'm not leaving. So you'd better learn to live with it."

He'd stopped struggling midway through her reprimand and buried his face in her shoulder, leaning into her and wrapping strong arms around her waist.

"Shit, Trinity, you'd better not leave me. Then I'd really be nothing…" He turned his head against her and kissed her gently. "I'm sorry I've been so distant. I just…don't know who I am anymore."

"Maybe I don't either." She leaned over, kissed his forehead, then ran one hand through his tousled hair before pulling away. "Come on. Get dressed. We're already late."

"I'm not…I can't…"

"Please, Neo. Go for me."

He sighed and brushed his hands over his face, exhaling slowly before he answered.

"All right. For you."

Parties in Zion always followed one of two formats. The first was a loud communal gathering of the entire city which included loud music, plenty of alcohol, and very few inhibitions. The second was a selective formal party of the council members and their guests of honor featuring formal dress, a quiet dinner, and much stuffy conversation. This particular gathering followed the first format.

The party was already in full swing when Neo arrived, Trinity on his heels as if to make sure he wasn't going to make a run for it. Though he knew he should be annoyed, he was grateful for her presence—he didn't entirely trust himself not to flee for his life when he stepped into the main cavern and was immediately bombarded by the guttural pulsing of the drums and an overwhelming smell of sweat. He'd never liked social gatherings, and parties that required dancing were even worse, especially now that he didn't have the luxury of being able to navigate through the crowd on his own. He'd been using a small white cane to walk since his release from the hospital wing. It was effective, but utterly humiliating. He jumped a little at Trinity's hand on his back.

"You okay?"

Neo shivered a little at the feeling of her breath on his neck. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Yeah, I guess. I just…what's going on?"

"People are getting drunk and dancing. More or less like last year. I don't think anyone's noticed us yet. Most people are…otherwise occupied."

Neo nodded and took a step forward, then realized the cane would be utterly useless in such a rowdy crowd. He leaned it against what felt like one of the pillars and turned back to Trinity.

"Help me?" He hated himself for having to ask, but he knew he had no choice.

"Of course." She was at his side instantly, one hand on his back, the other on his arm. "Morpheus and Link are about twenty feet away at two o'clock. It's not too crowded between here and there, just trust me."

The first few steps were harrowing and awkward, though he knew she would not let him fall. Walking without sight was singularly strange; he felt off-balance even on flat surfaces, as if the bottoms of his feet were uneven and could pitch him forward at any moment. The partial sight only served to make his sense of balance worse, phantom obstacles perpetually at the edge of his vision, threatening a collision at any moment.

"Well, if it isn't our guests of honor," said Morpheus' voice a few moments after they'd come to a stop. "Shall I tell people you've arrived?"

"Please don't," said Neo uncomfortably. He'd always had a hard time looking people in the eye before, but now it was unnerving not to be able to see expressions.

"Neo, good to see you, man." Link. A warm hand shook his. He shifted as Trinity pulled away, presumably to greet Link herself.

"Same to you," said Neo, then added uncomfortably, "or I suppose I should say 'hear you.'" The joke was tense and unfunny, and fell awkwardly to the ground.

"So," said Link, breaking the silence at last, "I hear Kid is going to be attending the Academy at last."

"The Academy?" said Trinity incredulously, "I thought they shut it down."

"No," said Morpheus. "There was talk of it, but the Council decided to keep it open in order to train more overseers for the surface reconstruction."

Trinity laughed.

"A far cry from combat training. Hope he won't be too terribly disappointed."

Link started to say something else, but was interrupted by the sound of a rough cry ringing out over the music. It was a strange sound, different from the reveling calls of the celebrating Zionites. This sound was raw and inhuman, something between animal and the supernatural. It came again a few seconds later, and then again, louder. The music stopped after the third cry, and sounds of a struggle could be heard over the sudden silence. Neo felt his blood run cold, and found himself groping for Trinity's hand.

"What's happening?"

"I don't know." Her voice was tight with something, perhaps anger, perhaps fear. "It looks like a fight of some kind. Or an overdose. There's a couple people on the ground, and a big clump standing around looking down at them."

"Trinity." It was Morpheus' voice again.

"Stay here," she whispered against Neo's neck. And then she was gone.

Neo stood in the midst of the chaos, one hand braced on the rock wall. There was shouting, and people moving all around, and then—

The Chateau, on the back patio, staring out at the mountains. It was cold up here, though it had not been before. The glare off the snow was harsh, and he did not have his usual dark sunglasses. The glare and the sudden crisp image were a shock to his system, and he stood reeling, unable to get his bearings. He jumped at the sound of footsteps behind him.

"Hello, Neo."

He turned to see the Architect standing on the patio, grinning that cool, cruel grin of his.

"You've gotten farther than any of your predecessors, Neo. But not far enough." The Architect laughed. "You will never make it far enough."

Neo shook his head, turned to run. He had to get away from this place, anywhere, anything would be better. This couldn't be happening, and yet—

"Neo!"

A pair of hands, shaking him by the shoulders.

"Neo, talk to me."

"Yeah," he gasped, recognizing Trinity's voice.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied, not ready to face it yet. "I just…got disoriented. What's going on?"

There was a long pause before she answered.

"Two people were…apparently overwhelmed by the party. They had a bit of a reaction, a kind of fit, I guess you'd call it. They uh…came down with some kind off illness. There were pustules all over their faces and necks, and it looked like…it looked like plugs were trying to come through their skin."

"Plugs? On native Zionites?"

"That's what it looked like. I…I couldn't tell. I guess…I guess I must be wrong."

Neo knew by the sound of her voice that she was not wrong. She hardly ever sounded scared, but when she did it was never without reason. He tried to force the words to the back of his mind, but they just kept repeating, over and over like a broken record.

You will never make it far enough…

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