3 The Architect's Design

The Architect was seated in the circular room, with all the monitors showing one scene, that of the room. Neo and the two men are seen from hundreds of different angles, though strangely, not one screen showed the Architect.

"Neo, these are two agent programs from the matrix," the Architect said. "They are reactivated enforcer programs, ones that will be with you on your first journey into the matrix."

"Why?" Neo is wearing a gray business suit, much like the Architect except for one detail--- a black overcoat that hugged his shoulders, then flared out cape-like after the waist, the folds of the coat ballooning out as he paced restlessly toward the agents. In his right hand are shades, which he absently slipped into his overcoat' pocket.

He walked in a large circle around the agents, intently studying their reactions. The smaller man pivoted on his heel to keep himself always facing Neo as he circled them while the taller man swallowed nervously once, his hands clenching and relaxing sporadically as he held himself still facing the Architect.

"Elaborate question." The Architect sat and watched them, his hands tented before his face.

"Why do I need these enforcer programs, these agents?" Neo' mouth curled into a sneer, his voice pattern altering to a rhythm that froze both agents in surprise.

"They are to monitor and guard you against a specific circumstance. While the probabilities are small, it is possible that you will meet him today. The agents are to guard you against that."

"Who?" Neo stopped his pacing, and his attention shifted to the Architect. They lock gazes emotionlessly.

"It matters little, for if I spoke his name, you would not recognize it or him." Neo's eyes shifted away at those words, a fact the Architect noted dispassionately. New calculations are made and end with disturbing conclusions.

"Why these particular ones?" Neo's attention returned to the agents.

"Both agents know and dealt with him before."

Neo nods absently, "What are your names?"

"Agent Brown," said the smaller man. Echoed by the taller a heartbeat later.

"Agent Jones."

>>>>>>

"Something's wrong, Niobe," said Morpheus. He glared at the building and stood frozen despite the shove that Niobe gave him. "This can't be the place."

"No, this is the address Link gave us." Niobe, snapped, her eyes surveying the surroundings. The street was lined with single-family homes, with large trees and cars parked in driveways. Birds twittered, and the distant sound of cars rumbled through the still morning air. It was calm, peaceful.

It made Niobe uneasy.

Morpheus pulled out his cell phone. "Link is this the right place? Are you certain?" Snapping shut his phone with more force than necessary; Morpheus then took a deep breath. "Let's go."

Niobe stood on the sidewalk and looked at the building that Morpheus now stomped up to. It was a two-storied Victorian home, built of slate woods painted a bright powdery blue with white trimmings. The home while old was neat, the lawn well kept, as was the surrounding neighborhood.

What had upset Morpheus was the small sign on the door that said:

The Oracle
Futures told
By appointment only

>>>>>>

They watched the door close behind Neo, then the agents turned to the Achitect.

"Why?" said both agent programs together.

"Is this wise?" added agent Brown.

"Specify and clarify the object of data requested," said the Architect. He was satisfied that both worked within acceptable parameters despite the lost of their designated spokesman, Agent Smith. Yet with the defection of a third of the enforcer unit, further scans was required to evaluate their potential usefulness.

"As he said a sequence, Mr. Anderson reminded me of the other," Jones said.

"Clarify, identify the secondary subject in discussion," the Architect said. During his speech, both agents memories were downloaded and reviewed, fragments of time showing on every tv monitor. It showed the viewpoint of the agents performing their function—the hunt and elimination of Zionist rebels. Until the defection of Smith, their unit had the highest success rate in purging the matrix of suspected rebels. On every screen was a different scene of a human's termination.

"Agent Smith, our former partner," said Brown.

"Is it not dangerous," added Jones. "To let a potential virus code to inhabit the One?"

"The data fragments are too scattered, for the subject Neo Anderson to be more than vaguely influenced. He will be inclined to think of you as Agent Smith did, however." The Architect said. Hearing the flawless echoing and watching the instantaneous flow of code between them, confirmed the unit's viability. The decision to use the agents was instantaneous, final.

The agents exchange glances and information. "We still consider this action to be perilous," said Brown.

"To allow Mr. Anderson to return to the Matrix today is dangerous," Jones continued.

"Morpheus is within the Matrix." Brown explained.

"The programmed anomaly was also sighted," said Jones. Both agents looked distressed by this. "Are the probabilities negligible for an encounter today?"

"Probabilities have taken an enormous leap in making the encounter all but certain," the Architect informed them. "Neo's reaction today has guaranteed it. He will seek the other, curious without comprehending why. It is his nature."

"Would it not be logical to keep the anomaly out of the Matrix," observed Brown. "Until a measure of control has been reestablished?"

"No, a greater hazard, a increasing danger- has arisen," the Architect said. "It must be halted, restrained, contained." The Architect' eyes were frozen chips of ice, the intensity alarming set against his emotionless face. "This is what you must do."

The Architect sent general commands to both programs, then their individual orders with the warning not to share it within their unit. He watched with interest at the reaction his orders caused: the enforcer named Brown blinked twice, while the one named Jones faintly frowned.

Their reactions to the new orders were extreme for agents, but still within acceptable parameters for sentient programs.

The truncated enforcer unit was satisfactory. And if destroyed it was no loss to the matrix. They had been scheduled for deletion.

>>>>>>

Something happened as I left the Architect and the agents. An event so unexpected, that I stopped in the hallway to lean against the wall, feeling shaken in its aftermath.

I remembered.

I remembered… her. The dark haired woman, the one haunting my dreams, in my memory she had been sitting at a metal table. She looked up as I approached, and smiled.

And my response at her smile was warmth--- of emotion so strong, it shook me to my core.

But it's later I realized a terrible fact…

Afterwards… afterwards---I don't—I can't remember her face.

For one moment I can see and remember her face, knowing everything about her. But after that moment, I can evoke nothing of her.

Nothing.

tbc


A/N: (Looks at the reviews. Jaw drops, eyes pop open.)

Wow!

Thanks for all the great reviews:)

Next chapter: Talk with Morpheus.