Chapter 16

Minutes after the Nebuchadnezzar arrived back in the dock, Synergy collapsed onto the ottoman, steaming cup of hot chocolate in one hand, holding a cold compress to her forehead with the other. Who knew hovercraft required so much energy? Indeed, with such primitive, power-guzzling technology and Zion nearly half a day's journey from the surface, was it any wonder she had a headache? Synergy especially resented the hot showers. As if she were made of energy. She should have let it run cold, just as the blonde haired boy embraced his most beloved parts. Reckless excess in the place of humble gratitude! And she was trying not to be insulted by Trinity's reaction to her gift. Frightening her poor, giving creatures with screams that could have woken the dead, then coming back to the ship waving a plasma gun around (oh, how she loved her guns!). Indeed, it took all Synergy's self control as a well bred lady not to attack the shrew again… this time, with more than just webs.

Of all of them, only Neo understood her. Only Neo embraced the fruits of her passion and genius; these children of the future were her eyes and ears, her sole connection to a freedom she could only imagine. And, for a moment, one blue-winged moth was more than that. For a moment, she was connected to his mind, to the rhythm of his heart. For the first time, Neo was open to her. The fleeting instant of their connection was vague, the memory seeping from her mind like an elusive dream. No words. He hadn't said a word. But the emotion was clear, buried deep below the surface, contained in the vault of his secret soul, let out in a hesitant whisper. Chillingly, it was love, the warmth of which prickled through her spine in a magical tingle, a sample of what humanity could give her. A small gift reminding her of what she'd never had.

"Humans are by nature inconsiderate," Smith said. "I wouldn't be surprised if they're all standing before the Council right now, blaming us for the whole thing."

"If the Sentinels hadn't disabled them!" Synergy spat, though shouting only made her voice hoarse. "The last time I trust them to do anything! Useless, warmongering animals."

"I tried to warn you. They weren't programmed for diplomacy."

"And you weren't programmed to get me a blanket, but that's what you're going to do. Allez-y. And a pillow."

Smith obediently gave in to her request, hurrying for the items she'd requested. Synergy grinned to herself. Sentinels may not be trainable, but this program certainly was. A loyal ally in a world where her enemies were many. Granted, his constant attention was trying at times, as were his persistent attempts to touch her, feel her body through the clothing she knew he resented. His Saviour, that's what he called her. That's what many programs were calling her these days. The humans would too, eventually, if all went according to plan.

From her reclined position, Synergy thought a few two-dimensional boxes into existence, wanting to sort through her first live images from The Last Human City. Window upon window flickered open in the space around her, assembling a distorted vision of the Loading Dock in a puzzle of tiny pieces. The busy, underground cave reminded her of an ant colony, millions of tiny beings scurrying around, just living out their lives, oblivious.

The city was filthy, primitive, crude. And yet for Synergy, Zion was also exotic; it was real. If she were freed today, this is where she'd live; this city of one million faces would be her fate. Could she ever hope to integrate into such a community? Would any of them befriend her, accept her, care for her as an equal? Although Smith would argue it was impossible, Synergy knew better. Neo would take care of her, she'd felt it instinctively since they'd first met. As long as she was with him, she'd be safe.

Surely, Neo would return to the Matrix shortly for answers, Synergy thought with a rush of pleasure. She was eager to see him again, to answer his questions, and have him answer hers. She wanted to learn more about humanity, of life in Zion, of his fight against the machines. They would discuss terms, make a plan for the future. It was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.

"The woman will pollute his mind against you," Smith said evenly, handing her a blanket. She leaned forward so he could place a pillow behind her back. "We don't need her. Let me take care of it."

Synergy's head pounded harder. Trinity. "She doesn't trust me," Synergy agreed, recalling the details of yesterday's brunch with an uneasy flip on her stomach. 'You conspire with murderers… you have taken my crew hostage,' Trinity had said. Her mind was closed, her vision limited. In truth, she was nothing like Neo.

"He listens to her. Ms. Andrews has considerable influence over his judgement," Smith continued casually. "It's a shame. He's practically brainwashed. She is a threat, Synergy."

She sipped her hot chocolate and said pensively, "Such a hard, masculine woman. I can't imagine Neo loves her. She isn't nearly beautiful enough for him. For such a great man."

"You're right. She's always held him back, Synergy."

"His mate lacks elegance, perfection, harmony," she said darkly. "Trinity couldn't possibly understand his needs."

"He's poisoned with her."

Synergy considered Smith's statement carefully before deciding, "She will not keep him from me. Not when I'm so close."

Smith smiled wickedly, blue eyes shining like two flames. You don't have a choice, Synergy. Let me do this for you. The woman's heart on a silver platter…

"No," Synergy interrupted. "Not yet. If we harm her, I will lose Neo forever. I will deal with Trinity personally… when and if the time comes."

Smith frowned and opened his mouth as if to argue. But he seemed to think better of it at the last moment, sitting next to her on the ottoman. Rubbing her shoulders, "You're as wise as you are beautiful." Placing a small kiss on the back of her head, he whispered, "You will know when the time is right."

Synergy pushed back against the program as if to shrug him away, but the softness of his embrace arrested her resistance. As his fingers gently ran through her hair, the pain from her aching muscles, the tension from her shoulders, the pounding between her temples all melted away. He was like a medical tonic, a miracle drug for her fatigue. She could feel his strength burning through her skin osmotically.

"Yes," she sighed, leaning her head back, encouraging him to continue. "This is what I need."

I know, Smith purred, lips on her neck, large hands slipping under her blouse. I just want to be sure you get what you deserve. My only concern is for you, Synergy. I will not let them hurt you… I will not let Trinity plot against you.

His words crawled through her brain like spiders, his fingers tracing her lace-cupped breasts with a heat that was nearly painful.

She is jealous of you, Synergy, he said. She's threatened by your connection with her lover. As long as she lives, you will never be freed from this place. She'll see to it. She'll see to your eternal imprisonment. Trinity would kill you if she could.

As his voice boomed through her soul, Synergy held back tears. Why would this woman hate her so? What had she ever done to deserve such treatment? From Trinity, from The Merovingian, from The Machines… all she ever wanted was freedom.

Looking for an answer, Synergy turned to Smith, gazing needily into his eyes. They were aglow with passion, with stolen love, her love, fruited by the seed Neo had planted yesterday. The One's small gift of caring landed on them both like a drop of water in a desert, blooming into an entire oasis of borrowed emotion. They assimilated the template greedily, feeding it, multiplying the sensation into a million double-sided facsimiles of love. It was forbidden and unnatural, this mirage of what neither of them was ever meant to have, of what fate had decided to deny them.

In a fevered fit of rebellion, they took it without apology.

Draping her body in a black silk kimono, Synergy watched him sleep. Smith was tangled in the mess of blankets on her bed, sweat covering his bare shoulders and neck. He was exhausted, his program drained of the sacred power he'd so willingly given away, grunting, groaning, crying himself into her.

Smith tasted like a battery. His scent lingered in her hair like static electricity. Even as he'd carried her to the bedroom, effortlessly lifting her with the careful enthusiasm of lovers in romance novels and fairy tales, Synergy could sense his emptiness. Her head against his chest, her fingers on his neck, there was no trace of a heartbeat, no essence of a soul. And yet she'd needed him, she'd needed whatever scraps of humanity they could create.

Synergy's heart was racing, hands shaking as she picked her clothes off the floor. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe; everything was ablur with uncontrollable vibrations. Even her tears flowed in an exaggerated capacity, gushing from her eyes faster than she could dry them. Losing her balance, she clumsily stumbled into a chair, trying to slow her gasps, to contain her body from breaking into a million pieces. In her greed, she'd taken too much. She'd taken more than she was meant to have.

"Synergy?" Smith grumbled huskily. "What's wrong?"

Her blood was boiling with and overflow of neurotransmitters, shock painfully seizing her muscles, her heart, her lungs. She gripped the arms of the chair and squeezed, sweaty palms slipping on the polished wood. "We are damned, Smith," she managed, teeth shattering, her body chilled to the bone with cold perspiration. "You are damned and now you've damned me with you. We shouldn't have done this. This wasn't meant to be… not for us."

He frantically tried to rise, throwing the sheets aside, clawing at the edge of the mattress. "Come here," he said. "Synergy. Come to me."

She squinted over at the struggling program, panting his frustration, eyes wide with desperation as he reached an arm out to her. "Synergy," he begged again. "Please come here."

The pain in her body intensified; her veins felt as if they would burst with the pressure. Frightened, she stumbled over to him, shakily whining her distress as he took her back into a delicate embrace. "What have you done to me?" she cried.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he said, sliding the robe off her shoulders and rubbing her damp skin in an effort to sooth her. "I didn't mean to… I didn't know."

Synergy clung to him, head in the crook of his neck as he rocked her back and forth. Her body responded to his instantly, bonding to him like a magnet, tingling with a warm excitement. She was nauseous with the reminder of their intimacy. "You're a parasite," she whimpered. "Look what you've done to me. I hate you."

The last few words were caught in his mouth as he covered her lips with his own, tasting the acidic bile of her emotion, sucking it in like poison from a snakebite. He caressed her, fed from her, consumed her until the tremors stopped. Synergy's heartbeat slowed, her vision cleared. As a blessed calm passed over her, Smith broke their kiss, turning his face away.

"You're alright now?" he asked, staring at the wall.

"Yes," she replied, so quietly she couldn't even be sure he'd heard her. "Smith?"

"It will not happen again," he said coldly, rising from the bed and retrieving his clothing. Pants on and wrinkled dress shirt unbuttoned, he left her there, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Smith hadn't been programmed to feel pain, not of this type, the twinge of rejection, the pang of denial. Nor was he designed to support the kind of divine pleasure that still lingered under his skin, tickling his senses like a multitude of tiny, self-perpetuating explosions. This dark angel had condemned him to this slavery of emotion; she was a Pandora of the heart, an infection of his mind.

So be it, thought Smith as he paced back and forth, adjusting his tie and cufflinks. This kind of misery was just another corner of paradise. With her, he was so close to freedom he could taste it. With her, he could feel the code of his program evaporating, leaving nothing behind but an unseeable light, an invisible glow of a higher form of existence. He couldn't lose her. Not to Neo. He would destroy the humans before he'd let them take her.

Synergy may be drawn to the great Neo now, Smith thought; The One had seduced her with his misguided promises of freedom, his pretence of compassion. But the truth was, Neo could never understand Synergy the way he did. His human counterpart was but a temporary reflection, a poor reproduction of his own greatness. In time, Synergy would see that. The trouble was she was young, impressionable, easily led astray. If Smith wasn't watchful, the humans could persuade her into making a terrible mistake.

Smith sat at the piano and read some of the music Synergy had been playing that morning. Bach's Aria da Capo of the Goldberg Variations was a sad, nostalgic reprise of the opening aria, and although this piece was originally intended for the harpsichord, Synergy preferred the piano, playing it after breakfast, sometimes humming the melody as she graced the keyboard with her fingers.

It was only a matter of time before Synergy destroyed Trinity, Smith assured himself, playing the first few bars with cold, mechanical perfection. This system was not big enough for both of them, and Trinity was no match for Synergy's brutal temper. He smiled. Trinity's death would be Neo's undoing; he would crumble into a million pieces, abandoning Synergy in a heartbeat. And then Synergy would see him for what he really was. Fickle. Weak. Unworthy of her.

How predictable humans were for a Program of such insight! Smith continued to play her favourite song, progressing as she often did to Variation number Twenty-Five, what Synergy often called the 'black pearl' of the work. He played through the notes fluently, following the sheet music to the letter, listening carefully for the magic he always heard when she played it.

And then his fingers were no longer his own.

"Adagio, Mr. Smith," she said, slowing his tempo, guiding his hands with her mind. "That's much too fast."

Ballerina-like in weightless movement, she proudly floated into the room, shoulders back and chin held high, fresh as a newly-opened orchid. She'd showered and dressed for the evening in a backless red gown, lips painted darker than usual, cheeks flushed with a vibrant splash of rouge.

"The dark passion of this variation make it unquestionably the emotional high point of your performance," she continued, approaching him from behind. Smith could feel her invisible fingers lacing around his, unkindly teasing him with her intimate instruction. "Imagine you are playing a vacuum, a black hole, mercilessly absorbing all earthly joys and heavenly visions," she hissed into his ear. "I know you understand what that means. I tasted it, didn't I, Insipid Program?"

He smiled as the dagger pierced his heart. Wicked, malevolent, magnificent woman. Did she know how he enjoyed her cruelty? Synergy's spite transformed her into a deified reflection of himself. He played on, letting her puppeteer him as she wished, artistically taking liberties with the rests, proceeding to a higher octave in the second repeat. Finally, Synergy let him free, encouraging the program to take the initiative.

"Better," she nodded, eyes closed. "Expressive, depressing, tormented… almost perfect. Perhaps you are useful for someth --"

Smith stopped abruptly. "What?"

The ground below them shook. She looked towards the door, eyebrow raised as if to consult a sixth sense. "The game's afoot, Mr. Smith," she said. "Perhaps we should have taken our supper early."

Their uninvited guest burst through the double French doors before Smith could ask for an explanation. She was a tall, elegant woman, smooth brown skin and dark eyes brilliantly contrasting with the layers of red and orange fabric tightly wrapped around her slender body. She had a kind, round face and open features, though now they were contorted into an intense glare of condemnation.

"Synergy," the woman greeted her as if naming a plague. Then, as if noticing Smith for the first time, "You. I should have known you had something to do with this. How many times must we kill you, Virus?"

"Sati. My, how you've grown." Smith all but sung the sentence. "Have you come to sit at the grownup's table?"

"The only child here is that mistake. My mistake," she replied, pointing at Synergy. "Have you lost your mind? People are dying! I have come here to stop this madness! I was a fool to trust you!"

"They are not my people," Synergy stated matter-of-factly. "I warned the Machines to redistribute their power nodes. They refused to listen. I had no choice but to demonstrate -"

"My parents were at that power station!" Sati interrupted, pacing the length of the room. Smith moved to block her but she pushed him out of the way easily, staring Synergy straight in the eye. "They were friends of your Resistance! You knew that!"

"You're no match for me, Daughter of Love, Programmer of Sunshine and Rain," Synergy said calmly. "You should have joined me when you had the chance. This is my world now."

"I have heard words like this before, but they were not spoken by you." Sati said darkly, turning to Smith. In a movement faster than light, she caught him by the neck and squeezed. "You snake. I'm not a defenceless child anymore. Perhaps its time you taste some of your own medicine, as only a Programmer of Sunshine can deliver it."

Sati reached her hand directly into his code, twisting her arm to prolong his suffering. He called out in agony, body twitching as she prepared to scatter his code into a smattering of broken, erroneous symbols. But it wasn't only Smith who was screaming.

Synergy was clutching her chest, face wincing in pain. On instinct, she threw Sati across the room.

Hardly recovering from the shock and confusion of what had just happened, Synergy looked at Smith fiercely. "Go. Get out of here," she said.

He hesitated. "You're hurt."

"Yes, it's turning into a hell of a week for me, isn't it?" she said with uncharacteristic sarcasm. "I'm fine, no thanks to you. Now go."

Smith reluctantly left them, glancing back at Synergy with concern until she blinked the door between them closed, fusing it to the wall in an impenetrable seal.

Sati rose to her feet. "This isn't over. I will not come back alone."

"Perhaps you won't live to come back at all."

"Kill me?" Sati held Synergy's gaze. "I can't imagine even you are capable of such an act. I know you better than that."

Synergy met her in the center of the room. "No. You don't know me at all, sister," she said sadly. "It is disappointing. After all I have done, even you underestimate me."

"Sati?"

The voice came from behind them, an ecstatic greeting from a weary traveller. Kamala set her suitcases down, two long braids tumbling from her cloak as she rushed to embrace her daughter. "I knew it was you," the older woman cried. "It's been so long, but you still have your father's eyes. You're beautiful, my darling… my bheti."

"Your mother ran the entire flight of stairs," chuckled Ramachandra, dragging the rest of the luggage across the threshold. "I didn't know she could move that fast!"

"Rama, it's good to see you," Synergy announced warmly, stepping towards the door to welcome the white-bearded man, modestly dressed in a tweed suit with a white cloth handkerchief stuffed in the front pocket. "Your journey was safe?"

"Yes, my dear," he answered, taking her hand in a hasty shake, though he was looking at Sati, tearfully embracing Kamala. "My daughter looks so shocked to see us. Didn't you tell her we were coming?"

"I'm afraid my purges were not as effective as I'd wished," Synergy said apologetically. "The correspondence was intercepted by a band of Agent spies. Nothing is safe these days."

"But you are well," Rama said. "That is what matters. And our operation was a success."

"A great success, and I thank you for that. You took a significant risk in helping me."

"And you in bringing us here," Kamala said, passing Sati to her father. "After twenty years, I thought I'd never see her again."

"Your daughter was kind to me when I needed an ally," Synergy said evenly, catching Sati's eye with cold indifference. "I told her I would not forget the favour, and I didn't. My debt is now repaid."

"Syn," Sati said, reaching out to her. "I apologise. Please, let's not fight. I'm so embarrassed."

The truncated moniker affected her deeply, reminding her of when Sati would whisper it in the cold, dark prisons below the Merovingian's château. "Syn? Are you crying again? It'll be alright, come and sit close to the wall. I'll tell you a story."

The young Indian woman had been captured by the Frenchman while defending The Oracle from one of his more aggressive tantrums, and for two years she and Synergy communicated in stolen moments of privacy through the thick stone which divided their cells. Through a tiny gap in the wall they shared food rations, exchanged locks of hair, fingers only barely touching when they each reached through the crack. During that time, Sati secretly guided Synergy's steady mastery of her powers, coaching her as they planned their escape from the dungeons.

The day they got out was the last time the two women had spoken, and that was over three years ago. Synergy had left on her mission to find the machine Resistance, begging her only friend to join her in the fight. "I'm sorry, Syn," Sati had said, hugging Synergy warmly, the first embrace of two kindred spirits who'd been inseparable for years. "I have my own journey to which I must return. But perhaps one day, our paths will cross again. Good luck to you, sister."

She'd been abandoned again. And in truth, Synergy had never fully forgiven Sati for leaving her alone, this program with two doting parents, The Oracle's most beloved child. And now, for Sati to beg her forgiveness from the arms of her loving father, the same father she believed her capable of murdering in cold blood? A mistake, that's what Sati had called her. Programs were all the same.

"No, I haven't the time to fight with you," Synergy said, accepting Sati's hand with polite reservation. "We have too much to do."

"Power grids three hundred through nine fifty in the alpha district in 01 were disconnected from the fields," Rama said. "They have gone to emergency rations. Friends in the Department of Bioelectric Power tell me they are engineering new links as we speak."

"They will fail," Synergy said. "Yesterday was only a demonstration of what I plan to do. In time they will have no choice but to seek alternative power sources."

"There is already enormous pressure to accept your proposal in the Senate," Kamala said. "But the official position of the government is not to negotiate with terrorists."

"How nice. Is that what I'm being called these days?" Synergy shook her head at the irony and offered her guests a seat. "I suppose I should have expected as much."

"I have to tell you," Rama began unwillingly as he pulled out a chair for his wife. "There have been rumours that they plan to sever your link."

"Ridiculous!" Synergy exclaimed, shocked that the Machines would even consider it. "I'm the only thing holding this pathetic system together. My death would crash everything."

"It is a risk they may be prepared to take," Kamala said. "If there is no other alternative."

"Genesis is their alternative," Synergy affirmed. "They will see that in time. We just have to be strong enough to see it through until then. I will not yield to their empty threats, as so many before me have done. This is where it stops. This is where it ends. No more."

A silence passed among the three guests as Synergy's statement hung heavily. They were past the point of no return. The Machines were on the brink of civil war, and Synergy's life, and the fate of the Matrix hung in the balance.

"Well, enough of this depressing talk of war. Today is for celebrating," Synergy said finally. "I've been saving an excellent bottle of wine for your safe return, Rama. Life is too short to stand on ceremony. Let us embrace the day."

"Of course," he replied with a smile. "This is a joyous occasion. I am here with my wife, my beautiful daughter…" Rama trailed off as he noticed Synergy's attention had been captured by something else.

"Neo, is that you again?" she murmured, quirking her head to the side and frowning, as if trying to process erroneous, conflicting data. There was a disconnected, far-away look in her eyes, and suddenly it was clear that she was no longer in this world but in another, communicating across a barrier none of the others could see. Then, her confusion lifted in a quick flash of recognition.

"Oh, I see," Synergy said, intrigued. "This must be Aurora."

a/n: this endingis a bit perplexing, but the beginning of ch. 17 will clarify it. Suffice it to say,at the moment, somewhere in Zion, Rorie (she's back! i haven't forgotten about her!) is introducing herself to the entomologist's dream collection of insects. Not knowing, of course, that "sister anomaly" is staring straight back at her through the eyes of a blue-winged butterfly...

- thanks to all those who reviewed my double chpater from last time - please honour me with another if you continue to enjoy this fiction !

Sydney