Part 10: Strange Love

London, while it was further in virtual distance than La Vrai had been from the car wreck, actually took less time to reach than the restaurant had. Smith and Morpheus simply jacked out through the nearest hardline, and then re-entered the Matrix through another insertion point about half a mile from their destination. The agents were already there, waiting for them, barely visible in the nighttime darkness. This time they didn't have a car. They'd been cautioned not to use anything provided by the system once they got there, so they began walking.

The mainframe had no information on either the address they'd been given or the key itself. But although none of them trusted the Merovingian, even the agents admitted curiosity about what might be behind the door the key would unlock. Not that there was anything out of the ordinary about the door, or any other part of the residence where they now found themselves.

Their journey had ended at a small house in a quiet residential neighborhood. Again, nothing abnormal was evident from the outside. There seemed to be some minor fluctuations in the background code of the area, but such things were fairly common in the Matrix, and easily visible to those who could sense them.

"I'm not reading any potential hazards," said Collins, who would have preferred being the one to go in first. As the Merovingian said, though, that wasn't possible. For some reason, Smith was the only one who could insert the key into the lock. Both Morpheus and Collins had tried, but when they did, it was as if the key wouldn't fit. And even after Smith put the key in, none of the others could turn it. "It looks safe."

"Looking safe and being safe aren't the same thing," Morpheus replied. "Be careful."

Smith nodded, and then, bracing himself, pushed the key back into the lock and turned. Carefully, he opened the door and stepped inside.

"What do you see?" asked Evans softly. They didn't know what they might find in there, so they'd agreed that caution was the best strategy.

"Not much," he whispered back. "Come on in."

The others followed Smith into the dimly lit front hallway, then into the house's living room. The agents were suspicious, of course, but they could find nothing amiss. Not there, or in the dining room, or in the kitchen. There was some leftover Chinese food in the refrigerator, along with various other nondescript food items, but nothing interesting. Nothing out of place at all. Upstairs there was a small home office with a computer; a bathroom with some toothpaste, hair dye, and a bottle of contact lens solution on the shelf; and at the end of the hallway, a closed door. Collins crept closer, listening. There were sounds coming from behind the door…

Evidently Collins didn't like what she was hearing, so before Smith could stop her, she kicked the door in, bursting through with her weapon drawn.

And then she froze. Her partners did too, shock clearly evident on their normally impassive faces.

Smith pushed past her, as did Morpheus, both trying to see what had affected the agents so strongly. Collins was still standing in the doorway, gun in hand but not aimed. Once inside, Morpheus stopped short as well. And once Smith was able to get around them, he could finally see what the others had seen.

It was a bedroom, and there were two people in each other's arms, wrapped in a tight embrace. Both were male. They were nude, and looked almost as stunned as Collins, but the man with the dark hair recovered faster than she had. He leapt out of the bed, not bothering to cover himself, placing himself between the interlopers and his partner -- his partner, who had sandy colored hair and hazel eyes.

But that wasn't right, was it…

Smith couldn't help himself. "Jones? Brown?"

Jones stopped dead, taking in the impossible sight of Morpheus, three system agents, and his former team leader-turned-virus together. By now Brown had gotten up too, and Jones put his arm in front of him, as if to protect him, but Brown pushed forward anyway. "Smith?"

Smith nodded, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. "It's me."

Collins and her team were still gaping at Smith's former partners. Collins took off her glasses, staring, as if to make sure she was really seeing what was there in front of her. Evans was wide-eyed but silent, and Chapman, usually the least perturbable of the three, had her eyebrows almost up to her hairline.

Now both of his former teammates were staring at him, no doubt seeing him as the Merovingian could not. "Smith, what happened to you?" Jones asked in disbelief.

Brown shifted closer to Jones before speaking again. "We knew that you'd become a…a virus, but now, you're…"

"Human," answered Collins, when words failed him. "And you are exiles."

Neo's memories rose up again, unbidden, and for the first time Smith saw what had happened after Neo tore him apart. He didn't like it. "You ran," he said in astonishment. "You left me."

Smith's biting accusation made Jones look away. "What other choice did we have?" he asked, unable to meet his former superior's eyes. "What happened to you would have happened to us, if we'd stayed."

"We didn't want to leave you," Brown said, his time as an exile and away from the checks and balances the system imposed on its agents quite evident -- his anguish was clear on his face, in his voice. No wonder Collins and the others were shocked. They were more animated, more emotional, than Smith had ever seen them.

"I thought you'd been destroyed, or deleted," Smith countered. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh. Those same checks and balances on his psyche were no longer influencing him, either, and he was certain that his own feelings were obvious. "It took time for me to return, but when I had, I looked for you. I couldn't find you."

"We were scheduled for deletion," said Jones. "Because of what Neo did to you, and because we couldn't stop it."

"And because we didn't see what was happening to you, even before that day." Guilt was coloring Brown's voice now, just as it had with Jones. "It was our fault. We should have recognized that something was wrong, and we should have been able to help you. But we didn't; just like we didn't help you that last day. So we were ordered to return to the Source."

"But we didn't go. We couldn't go. So we chose not to," Jones said, a little defiantly. He took Brown's hand. "We did not want to die."

"And we still don't want to die," said Brown. He looked at the agents flanking Smith. "Have they come here to delete us?"

"No, we weren't sent to delete you," said Collins, who had obviously never considered that agents, even exiled ones, might choose to participate in such a human activity as the one they'd interrupted. "We didn't even know you were here. But there's no need for concern. The mainframe's instructions are quite specific; you are not to be harmed."

Had Smith been born human, he would have breathed a sigh of relief at the orders Collins must have just received. Jones and Brown would live. He knew the Machines wanted to stay on his good side, so they wouldn't do anything that would jeopardize their new relationship with the One. And Smith definitely didn't want his former partners deleted -- he'd been prepared to fight to see that they weren't – and he was thankful that he wouldn't have to, even if he'd once harbored some resentment against them. He could certainly understand their wish to survive. "We honestly didn't know what we would find when we came here," he said, taking the key from his pocket and handing it to Brown. "I was given this address, and a key."

The former intelligence unit examined the key carefully. "This was designed to get past the defenses we'd set up. It was encoded to only be usable by a program that was formerly an agent." Brown raised an eyebrow, a picture of intellectual curiosity despite his nakedness. "Where did you get it?"

"Yes, how did you find us?" asked Jones, his expression a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "How did you become as you are now?"

"And what are you doing with these new agents, and Morpheus?" questioned Brown.

Morpheus sighed. "It's a long story," he said. "So you may want to put some clothes on…"

They did so, and as the explanation unfolded, Jones and Brown sat and listened raptly, occasionally interrupting to ask questions or to request more detailed information. They were fascinated by the turn of events that had led Smith to Zion, as well as to them. Smith found it odd to see them in casual clothing rather than suits, even more so than seeing them with their dyed hair and colored contact lenses -- all to camouflage their true identities from anyone who might recognize them, they said, once Smith had finished his story and they began theirs. They'd learned to hide in areas of code flux, as far from their old territory as possible; and to hide from other exiles (who might have a vendetta against them), as well as from the agents who'd once been their colleagues. It wasn't common knowledge in Zion, but agents hunted exiles as well as unplugged humans. It had not been an easy life, cut off from the system. But they were intrigued by the new developments they were just now learning of. Jones seemed very enthusiastic about the truce, and Brown looked like he was already thinking about ways the sky might be cleared. Brown had always been the most curious of the three, and Smith wondered if he'd been the one to initiate the relationship with Jones.

"We lost our ability to communicate mind-to-mind when we became exiles," Jones explained (even though Morpheus seemed surprised that Smith had actually asked). "We had to give up our earpieces-- our connection to the system, and to each other."

Smith knew what that was like. "Agents aren't meant to be separated from their partners," he said. "It's difficult, not having that connection."

Brown nodded. "This was as close as we could get to what we'd had," he answered softly. "At first, we thought it would be a poor substitute, and that it would have to do." He smiled slightly. "But at the time, we had no idea that physical intimacy could be so…intimate."

"Other exiles engage in these acts, as well as non-exiled programs," said Jones, looking pointedly at the three current agents. "You should not condemn us for what we've done."

"We weren't condemning you," Collins replied. "We were surprised. We didn't realize that our kind would ever engage in those activities, as exiles or not."

"It's not only exiles that do this," said Brown. "Other programs often behave as humans do, in many ways."

"Sati's parents loved each other, and loved the daughter they created, and they aren't exiles," Smith pointed out.

Collins clearly wasn't convinced. "Sati's parents aren't agents."

Morpheus still looked somewhat perplexed. Smith could understand why. Humans didn't know much about Machine society, much less how sentient Machines thought. Even Neo had been surprised at how similar they were to humans -- the Merovingian's lust (for power and for women), Persephone's anger at her husband, the Oracle's kindness…and Smith's hatred. But before he died, Neo had come to understand the spark of humanity that ran through them all. The Machines were not so different as he'd been led to believe. How could they be, when their brains were set up to work like a human's? And for programs within the Matrix, with bodies like those of the humans they worked with or hid among, that was even more true.

"Agents are different from most other programs," Smith told him. "For most AI, emotional responses don't matter. When they exist, they may be mild or intense, easily provoked or not, depending on the individual," he said. "But not for agents. Built into an agent's programming is a feedback control mechanism, designed to dampen down their emotions, keep them on an even keel, so they can focus."

"So we won't be swayed by compassion, or sympathy. So we won't be swayed from our duties to kill the humans we once protected," said Jones, sounding almost bitter.

"We're not monsters. We were never meant to be," said Brown, gazing steadily at Morpheus. "Smith told you about the first Matrix, while he was interrogating you. The perfect world. But he didn't tell you that the agents of the first Matrix were guardians and protectors. That humans didn't run when they saw us, because they knew there was no reason to be afraid."

"It was pleasant. And we hadn't experienced anything like that for so long we'd almost forgotten what it was like," said Jones. "Until we were exiled."

Collins' face suddenly went blank. That meant she wasn't just talking with the mainframe, but that she was in total synchrony with it, as Chapman had been while downloading the security data. Smith could sense the code flowing through the ground substance of the Matrix; and given the size and speed of the transfer, something major was being communicated to her. The data stream was huge.

Collins blinked as the contact was broken. "The mainframe offers reinstatement for Jones and Brown," she announced.

"Reinstatement?" Smith repeated carefully. "Not just a reprieve from their death sentence, or tolerance for them as exiles, but reinstatement?"

"Reinstatement."

"You mean, make them agents again," said Morpheus. He looked like he didn't know what to think of the idea.

"Yes, if they and the One wish it."

Jones and Brown looked at each other. "To have purpose again…it was more than we could have hoped for," said Jones.

"To no longer be exiled," Brown replied.. "No more running, no more hiding."

"No need to fear deletion by your own kind," added Smith.

"That would be most welcome," said Jones, but then he frowned slightly as he glanced at his partner. "However, there are some things about this life…that I do not wish to give up."

Brown raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "I concur."

Jones turned to Smith, then to Collins. "I understand now what I never could have before -- why the exiles did what they did, why they defied the Source and remained hidden in the Matrix. They didn't want to die," he said. "We didn't want to die either. How can we go back to what we were, when we know we'll be forced to kill others whose only crime is wanting to live?"

"The mainframe disposes of programs, just like the humans used to dispose of Machines. Just like B166ER," Brown challenged. "Who's to say we won't eventually be deleted, once we come back under the system's influence?"

Collins glanced at her partners, communicating silently with both them and their superiors. Afterwards, both agents handed her their earpieces.

"Use these," said Collins, holding them out to Jones and Brown. "Talk to the mainframe yourselves, and state your case."

Brown and Jones regarded each other for a moment, as if they were still able to speak to each other without words. Then they seemed to come to an agreement. Each took an earpiece and inserted it, and each closed his eyes as their connection was reestablished.

Smith could sense that they were communicating with the mainframe, as well as with Collins. Once again, Smith found himself to be a bit envious. He still missed this.

Minutes went by. This was an eternity for an AI, when data transfer was almost instantaneous. But once it was over, Jones and Brown were smiling again. Even Collins looked pleased.

"Brown and Jones are to be reinstated as agents," she announced. "But because of their circumstances, the constraints on their emotional centers will be bypassed. Their minds will stay as they are, as they requested." She glanced at them warily, as if she didn't know what to make of the two of them. They didn't seem to mind.

"It couldn't have taken you that long to work this out with the mainframe," said Smith. "What else were you talking about?"

"The future," she said. "The Matrix must stay as it is, for now, because humanity cannot be released until the sky is cleared. We knew that already." She paused. "We also know that when and if this comes to pass, the Matrix will still have its uses…as a testing ground, a laboratory, a gigantic computer simulation with real-world rules. And for those from the Machine civilization that have outgrown their programming -- or their usefulness -- they will be permitted to take up residence here, once the sky is cleared."

"You're saying that the Machines won't simply delete those sentient programs that no longer serve a purpose," said Morpheus.

"Yes," she replied. "Although until the sky is cleared, those exiles already here are a drain on the system." She cleared her throat. "Still…as a gesture of good faith, and to maintain the peace with our fellow AI as well as humanity, the mainframe is offering a general amnesty. Not just for the Merovingian or exiles like Seraph or Sati, but for all exiles currently within the Matrix." She looked up at Jones and Brown. "Exiles will not be hunted just because they're exiles. Only if they break the laws of the system, or threaten the peace."

"Zion…agents…and exiles. All at peace." Smith shook his head. "I never would have thought it possible."

"The Oracle did say that the way to the future was together," said Morpheus. "I suppose she meant all of us together."

Smith considered this. "I suppose she did."

"Do you know what this means, Smith?" Jones asked expectantly, coming over to stand by his old team leader.

"No, what?"

"It means that the One will be regarded as not just the savior of Zion and the Machines, but the exiles as well," said Brown, also moving to stand at Smith's side.

"It's true," said Collins. "They will all look to you as their hope for the future. For humans, Machines, and exiles."

Morpheus looked at Smith, who had just realized that the manifold duties and responsibilities of being the One had just doubled, and smiled. "I hope you're up to it."

End.