12 Remembrance

At the agent's voice, Neo stopped reaching toward the golden sphere. Raising his eyes he threw a glance at the agents, posed a dozen feet beyond Smith, guns aimed. The ex-agent in turn drops his hand, hiding the sphere, his face a grimace of frustration that he quickly changed to stony blankness.

Morpheus standing beside Smith brought out a gun, tossing an empty clip and promptly reloading the gun, one handed. He takes a measured step away, narrowly eyeing the agents and Smith, though he does not reveal his weapon again after the reload.

"Agent Jones. I was wondering if you and Brown would show up. Your reaction time has deteriorated since I was your leader. I was expecting you for the last five minutes." Standing with his back toward the agents, Smith' posture was arrogance personified. Only the thin set of his mouth hinted at emotion.

"Smith, leave this area immediately. Or face deletion." Slowly he and the smaller agent walked forward, guns shining in the morning light.

"No, Agent Jones." Smith said, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder. "I will not leave. Mr. Anderson and I have business to conclude. So I would advise you not to try and stop me. Otherwise, I might be forced to permanently damage you."

"Smith—" the smaller agent said. Both agents lifted their guns and fired twice.

Neo lifted his palm. The bullets hang motionless in the air, inches away from hitting Smith, who is seemingly indifferent to the bullets, ignoring them as he intently studied Neo. The bullets drop harmlessly to the street as Neo lowers his hand.

"So—you still have those memories. Do you remember the first time you stopped bullets? It was just moments before you destroyed me," Smith said, ending the last sentence in a nearly inaudible snarl. "For the first time."

Neo stared back with a faint frown of puzzlement. "No, I don't remember. I don't even remember you. I just knew how to stop bullets. But there is something I don't understand."

Smith's eyebrows lifted.

"If you hate me so much, why help me? Why return my memories?"

"Because, Mr. Anderson, I hate the knowledge of owing you my freedom more. To owe you anything, much less my life—is anathema to me," Smith answered with a glare that burned even through his shades. He lifted up his hand once more, golden light pouring between his fingers. "Now reclaim your memories. Retake your life---balance the debt between us."

"Do not trust the virus, Neo Anderson! It is a trap, a ploy to lower your defenses!" Agent Jones said. He was poised a step away from Smith, a gun aimed at Smith's back in one fist while the other was hidden in his jacket's vest. "He will destroy you like he did your predecessor!"

Morpheus, watching both agents, noticed Brown's expression change into a stunned disbelief as he held an hand on his ear, and saw the hand stretch out, trying to stop Jones from moving against Smith, an instant to late.

Jones pulled a knife from his jacket then swings the weapon toward Smith's back. Morpheus felt a shout rise from his throat, only to fade in astonishment at what followed.

As the knife reached Smith a bubble of darkness appeared from nowhere and engulfed Jones' hand and knife. "No!" the agent roared.

"I did warn you, Agent Jones," Smith said quietly. He turned and unemotionally watched what happened next.

The dim outline of fist and weapon is seen, held motionless as Jones tried to pull away from the darkness, with little effect. The knife's pale outline is now brightly lit with green fire, the color of the matrix. White lightning played over the knife, its shape distorting as it shrank and faded in the darkness. With the knife's disappearance the lightning ran up the agent's hand, outlining his fingers in ghostly light.

Agent Jones screamed, a long drawn out cry of agony. He again tried to pull away from the shadowy globe, as Agent Brown franticly pounded on the sphere with his fists and gun, ineffectively. Within the globe Agent Jones hand started to warp.

"Stop it, Smith!" Agent Brown said to the ex-agent. "Please!"

Smith frowned, and then gave a short nod.

The globe vanishes. At the sphere's disappearance, Jones collapsed quietly into Brown's arms. A peculiar smell of burnt plastic and metal floats in the air, to be swept away in the morning breeze.

Morpheus noted that the agent's hand looked undamaged, though the shivers that racked Agent Jones looked suspiciously like a seizure. Brown lowered the other agent to the grassy sidewalk, and stared helplessly at the convulsing program. Lying on his side in a curled fetal position, Agent Jones shook a few seconds then stilled, only to shake a minute later, to start the cycle again.

"Agent Jones?" Neo said. His face is two shades paler than minutes before, and his eyes hold a mixture of confusion as he stared at the downed agent. Taking a few steps forward he then knelt beside the fallen agent. Looking up at the other agent, he said, "Will Agent Jones be all right?"

Silence and averted face is Brown's response.

Morpheus saw Neo absorb the agent's reaction with dismay, and watched as it turned to icy anger as Neo turned toward Smith.

"You had no reason to hurt Agent Jones," Neo said. "Obviously he was no threat to your power and ability."

"He was warned," Smith said. On the program's face was a faint wariness, a shadowy amusement mixed with a visible frown as he regarded the other.

"Warned?" Neo said. His voice was calm, while his eyes burned. Deliberately, he turned his attention away, looking at the other program. "Agent Brown, can he be repaired? Agent Brown?" Neo rose to his feet, and stared at the oddly still figure.

Brown is facing Neo, with Jones' shivering body between them. He stood with an unnatural stillness, right hand on earpiece, head slightly tilted, his attitude that of listening. Only the subtle movement of his jacket showed he breathed.

"Agent Brown?" Neo repeated uncertainly. The agent did not respond. Nor did he move.

"Neither agent will be---operational for the next few minutes, Mr. Anderson." Smith said.

"What did you do to him, Smith?" Morpheus asked quietly.

"Nothing---that will cause permanent damage. It's standard procedure when one agent is 'down' for the other to try and contact him. Brown is caught in 'pause,' a feedback loop. He will be released well after my business with Mr. Anderson is done." Smith said.

"We are finished, Smith. It ended when you first injured Agent Jones." Neo said, his eyes cold.

Smith studied Neo for a long, endless moment.

"Mr. Anderson, if you had your memories, you would understand how absurd your situation is. Do you have any concept, the slightest inking--- that at one time, agents were your fiercest enemies? Do you?" Smith said softly, gently.

"Yes." Neo said, his face shadowed, unreadable as he stared down at Agent Jones. "I suspected it. It doesn't matter. Agent Jones was hurt, protecting me. They both were."

Chill, frozen words from Smith. "Yes, they were. But as for the reason of our conversation…it is not finished. And never will be, until you are freed." A sudden death-head grin. "Or dead."

"Smith!" Morpheus said, fingers tightening on his gun, half lifting it. Smith turned and watched him, an eyebrow raised.

"I was not threatening Mr. Anderson, Morpheus. I was merely stating a fact. Now that you know he is alive, Zion will soon after, and never stop its attempts to free their 'hero'." Morpheus stared at Smith, and the program continued with barely restrained scorn.

"Do you believe that the mainframe will let the 'One' escape and not respond? The very act of trying to free him could restart the war," Smith said. "Furthermore, would you trust a man without memories, knowing he had been under machine control?"

"I would trust Neo with my life," Morpheus replied flatly.

"But can you trust him with the safety of Zion? Should you? Especially now?" Smith said, with a mocking smile. Morpheus glared but never answered.

Smith turned to Neo. "Once its known that you attempted to recover your past, the mainframe will respond by deleting the cause. All your memories will be completely erased or modified, Mr. Anderson, including today's events. Do you want that?"

Shaking his head, Neo's eyes were two reflections of uncertainty and pain. "Why should I think that you are telling the truth? The agents said never to trust you…"

"Yes, but did they say that I would lie?" Smith said with a faint smirk. Lifting up his hand gold light poured between his fingers. "Now--- for the third and last time, will you reclaim your memories?"

Conflict visible on his face, Neo stared at the downed agents. With a significant pause he turned his gaze directly at Morpheus and said, "Morpheus. What do you think I should do?"

Caught off-guard, Morpheus drew a deep breath, thinking hard and fast. His first reaction was to tell Neo, yes, take back your memories, while the second was to quietly think over his answer.

It was a fact that 'freed minds' hated to obey orders. The very qualities that made it possible for them to escape the matrix also made it difficult for them to blindly accept authority from others. Especially orders from strangers, people they had no reason to trust.

"Do you remember anything about me, Neo?" Seeing his slight headshake Morpheus said, "Then the best advice I can give is--- follow your instincts. Trust yourself."

Neo froze, his eyes flashing up to latch onto his face; startled. Seeing Neo's reaction Morpheus smiled wryly, satisfied. Confident, the Zionist continued.

"The agents could be right in what they say about Smith; yet it is also possible that they are wrong. You do not have your memories. Smith claims that he does, more--- that you had given them to him. Is this the truth or not? I don't know. What I do know is this--- both you and Smith are enemies, but as far as I know, he has never lied to you about anything." Morpheus frowned, thinking of the Oracle.

"You have the choice to accept what Smith has said or reject it, yet nothing is gained without risk. Ultimately, the choice is yours." Morpheus ended. And a tension within the Zionist lifted off his shoulders, as he realized the course of action he would take with the Oracle.

Neo nodded, and lowered his eyes in thought. A minute later he told Smith, "I would like my memories."

Smith lifted his hand and Neo gently took the sphere, holding it with his fingertips. Staring at the object, Neo's eyes reflected the golden glow as he stared at it. "So what am I suppose to do with this?"

The sphere shattered in a burst of light. The light shaped itself into solid beams, twin spears that leaped into Neo's eyes, to halo his body in a golden aurora of light. He gave a muted cry of pain, and crumpled to the ground.

"What have you done!" Morpheus demanded. Was the offer of memories a trick? Or---

"Nothing. He still lives." Smith said, indifferent. "For now."

Swiftly knelling beside his friend, Morpheus saw with relief that Neo was breathing. Staring at Neo's face he realized that behind closed lids his eyes were moving, the sideway movement of dreaming--- or the upload of data.

After a moment of indecision, Morpheus grabbed the younger man's shoulders and lifted him to his feet. He stood up easily, giving further evidence to Morpheus that everything was fine, that while aware, most of Neo's attention was absorbed in the influx of new, or in this case, old memories.

Gazing at Neo's face, Morpheus saw that as the minutes slipped by more of his friend return. With each second more of the Neo that the Zionist remembered filled the bland, ghostly face, until Morpheus knew without doubt or uncertainty that Neo, the savior of Zion stood before him.

He felt a moment of joy when Neo opened his eyes and said, "Morpheus."

"Neo, do you remember everything?" he asked quickly.

"Yes."

Morpheus started to smile, until he looked into Neo's eyes. And realized that Neo did remember everything.

Including Trinity's death.

tbc


Next: The Price of Power and Pain