Chapter 26

Dressed impeccably in a black suit by Armani, Smith watched Synergy schmooze around the ballroom, laughing, smiling, and drowning her guests in an intoxicating mixture of champagne and flattery. It was half past midnight and everything was going swimmingly. The way she held back her bare shoulders, the slope of that long neck, the upward tilt of her chin, it was all perfect. Beautiful, gracious, powerful, and dripping with sex appeal. In short, she was political dynamite. It was almost as if people didn't notice she was human. The Exiles, or as Synergy secretly liked to call them, 'the Sheep,' absolutely loved her. Smith chuckled. That those who opposed Synergy typically ended up decompiled or worse might have something to do with her popularity. And who was to thank for that? Nobody but the best assassin in the business.

Smith sipped his single malt scotch and straightened his tie, suddenly filled with great professional pride. It felt good to be feared again. So what if he wasn't killing humans? In many ways, hunting down agents and peacekeepers was even more rewarding. And more challenging, even with the upgrades Synergy had arranged for him. Certainly, at the end of the day it was all worth it. They were the power couple (Merv and Persephone who?), and programs came from near a far to pay them homage.

Synergy caught his eye from across the room as she slid her arm through that of her next dance partner. Smith knew the man well, an ambassador from the outside. He represented a smaller city called Abl3, located in what used to be Europe, far from the outskirts of 01. Apparently the two machine nations had been bickering for decades about their claim over the fields, and like many satellite cities, Abl3 had decided it wanted to be 'the first to embrace the new order.' Synergy knew well most of the populace was starving. She'd planned it that way, in fact, hoping to divide the already fragmented machine network. But neither of them had expected her tactics to be so gloriously successful.

On their way to the dance floor, Synergy and her new best friend stopped for a brief introduction.

"Darling," she greeted him with a million megawatt smile that he knew was costing her. There was something in her eyes that told him she was having a terrible time. "I'd like you to meet the most charming man at the party. Besides you, of course."

"Of course."

"This is Goa. From the North-western Coalition?"

"I know who he is. After all, you've spoken of nothing but the poor citizens of Abl3 for weeks now. You worry too much, my dear. You see, he is fine."

"I'm afraid my people are much less fortunate," the concerned diplomat replied gravely. "My family as well. My children..."

Synergy sighed her version of sympathy. "Oh, I know. What a dreadful thing civil war is. The longer 01 drags this conflict out, the more innocents with continue to suffer. What can any of us do to combat such stubbornness?"

"We are more than eager to offer our support in the North. Though we don't have much of an army, our men are brave," Goa answered. "But we need energy."

"Of course you do." Synergy's lip curled. "And you'll find that upon your return, the reserves in the city core will have been completely replenished. My rebels are seeing to it as we speak."

He seemed momentarily stunned, staring at her with incredulity. Synergy looked back, raising her eyebrows as if seeing nothing miraculous about the gift. "Thank you," he managed. "Thank you, Holy Santa. How can we repay this kindness?"

He kissed her hand, and as he bent over, Synergy lightly touched the back of his head. "There is no recompense among friends, Goa. And do not worry; never again will your nation know the misery of famine. Let 01 have the crops, of which they've made you beg your fair share for centuries! It will be their undoing."

Smith suppressed the sudden urge to yank her over to him and kiss those honeyed words from her lips. A few years ago, the machine populace would self-destruct before defying The Source. Now they were disconnecting themselves from the mainframe en masse, embracing what was becoming not just a military cause, but a new religion. Smith wouldn't have believed it possible, but she'd even redeemed him. He was respected. Even liked, at least in this growing circle of program and machine rebels.

"Would you mind, sir, if I danced with your beautiful fiancée?" Goa asked him. Smith's brow furrowed as he looked at Synergy, connecting with the tangled gossamer that was her twisted little mind.

'Fiancée? I wasn't aware I'd proposed to you.'

'What? I left a message on your Blackberry hours ago! '

'You know I don't know how to work the damned thing. Why do you give me cellular phones and personal organizers when we can speak telepathically? Foolish mortal!'

'Don't start! You listen to me, Smith! Our love is everything good and pure and everlasting. You've turned over a new leaf. You're a good and decent program. I've saved your from your solitude and misery as a heathen virus, just as I'll elevate all machines from the debauchery of human-derived power. Our marriage will be a metaphor for the love which will both bind and liberate man and machine in our great and glorious future... Must I explain everything to you? Work with me! And smile before they suspect something! Useless program...'

"Of course, Goa. You may dance with my lovely bride to be." Smith smiled daggars at her. "Just don't be long. The separation is difficult for us both."

As Synergy dazzled the room with her nearly sinful tango, Smith lingered in the background, snatching another drink from the tray of a waiter and guzzling the vodka faster than was humanly possible. There was something gnawing at him as watched her weightlessly move to the music, as she gazed at him over the shoulder of her partner and winked. She drove him crazy. She pushed every button he had and yet, through it all, he could do nothing but adore her. The evil, manipulative little brat was his Holy Grail and there was nothing he could do to save himself from it. From Love. He nearly choked on the thought. He'd been choking on it for a week now. How had she made him into such... a human?

On a sudden instinct, Smith caught his breath and reached for his gun, abandoning his contemplative self-analysis as he realized something was wrong. His eyes scanned the room, stopping on a woman, part of her face hidden by the hood of a black velvet cloak. He recognized her instantly, and when they made eye-contact, she disappeared into the surrounding crowd. A security breech. He was about to rush to Synergy, to shield her from the threat, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, meeting dark, exotic eyes and catching the woman firmly by the wrist, barrel of his gun pressed to her side.

"Persephone."

She looked awful. Pale as snow and thin as a branch bending against an icy winter's wind... her once monumental beauty was worn and battered with anxiety and a terrible sorrow. Smith almost felt sorry for her. "I had to see her, Smith. I had to."

"And I'm sure she'll love to see you, too." He yanked her closer to him and tightened his grip. "You were foolish to come here."

"I can here to warn her. To warn both of you. My husband... he is relentless in planning his revenge. She is in danger."

Smith stared into her hollow, tired eyes. "Why are you telling me?"

"You know exactly why. She is my daughter, Smith, I love her... I cannot help that. I will not stand by and see him destroy her! She won't believe me... but you, I know you understand what I mean. You must convince her to stop this. To end this before it's too late! Make a deal with the machines, negotiate for her safety!

"I'm sure you understand why I can't do that. I couldn't if I wanted to. She is committed." Smith sighed. "She has allied herself with Neo. She believes he will come for her."

Her lips parted, and she looked away. "If she knew what I know, things might be different. For all of us."

"What? What are you hiding?"

She shook her head. "No, not until you listen to me. If my plan works, she'll be safe, and she'll be yours. Isn't that what you want?"

Smith hesitated, studying her face for a long beat before releasing her wrist and putting his gun away. He didn't even need it. "You'll tell me now, or I'll expose you, and let your daughter tear it from your lips."

The music stopped, and a round of applause praised Synergy's most recent performance. In the midst of the noise, Persephone took Smith by the arm and led them both out of the ballroom, out of sight and earshot. Their conversation was brief, after which Smith escorted her to a limousine and assigned two of his agents to see to her safe passage home. By the time he returned to the ballroom he had managed to compose himself, still hardly believing what he'd just been told. Impossible!

Synergy found him in the crowd and wrapped her arm around his bicep. With a light squeeze, "There you are!"

A chill ran through his body as he looked into her sparkling eyes. It couldn't be. His savior. His dark angel… was an Anderson?

"Smith, dear? What's the matter? You're looking at me as if I were the devil herself." She raised her hands to her cheeks in horror. "Don't tell me my mascara is smudged again! Oh, I'll just die of embarrassment!"

"No." He took a deep breath, studying in her flawlessly made-up face, her perfect features. "You're… you're beautiful."

She smiled. "I've come to ask you a favor, even though I know I don't deserve it. You're right. I've been just terrible to you, not telling you about your own engagement. A minor detail that slipped my mind. To make it up to you, I'll let you pick out the ring."

"What do you want?"

She frowned. "Very well, if you're going to be sour all night, I'll get to the point. I need you to monopolize my dance card for a little while. Look, I know you hate it but I've grown so tired of having my feet stepped on by these incompetents. Please, save me!"

He nodded gravely. "Yes. Yes, I'll save you."

"Oh, you're such a martyr!" she teased, delighted with the unusually small amount of effort she'd required to get a dance out of him. "Alright. I have to talk a little shop with Colonel Perón, the defector from 01's Department of Defense? But it'll only take me a few moments to… shall we say, caress the information out of him? So do cut in when you see me getting board. Yes?"

She didn't wait for his response, spotting another contact entering the room. She waved, and plucked two drinks from a passing tray. He watched her disappear into the party, eyes all over the elegant curvature of her bare back flowing into the nearly transparent flare of her gown.

He flicked his cuffs and adjusted his tie, jaw set with determination. No, Synergy most certainly was not an Anderson. Not anymore, anyway. She'd become so much greater than that. He'd be foolish to let a smattering of nucleotide base pairs get in his way. After all, a woman like her only came along once every six hundred years...

The dancing went on until daybreak, which wasn't unusual for one of Synergy's infamous parties. She was well-known for never standing on ceremony, and never passing on an opportunity to demonstrate her power or flaunt her popularity, and she always went a little overboard when Neo wasn't around. When she was sure he wasn't watching her. She dressed to kill, and worked the floor with the wiles of a fox and the voice of a Siren, habitually on her feet and 'absolutely delighted to finally meet you' for over twelve hours straight. But the only time when her smile ever approached one of genuine pleasure was when Smith danced with her. They always drew quite a crowd, which was as much due to the impressive footwork as their compelling physical chemistry. There were whispers among the guests that he 'played her like an instrument,' though ironically, it was usually Synergy directing the movement, manipulating his feet to suit her own interpretation of the music. Smith knew she loved the pomp and spectacle of it all, basking in the spotlight and applause like an actress at curtain-call. And although he did not share her fetish for attention, every time her he took her in his arms, bodies entwining like two serpents, he melted. Even tonight, when he was undoubtedly distracted.

In truth, Smith's mind was working faster than his feet, and by the time the last guests left, he had run several independent retrospective analyses of the available data. In sum, it was obvious that his new fiancée's romantic interest in Mr. Anderson was not mutual. Logic dictated that the coward knew he was Synergy's father but didn't dare to tell her. Neither had he told Mrs. Anderson, whose contempt for his and Synergy's relationship ran much deeper than her husband realized (Smith had stood by and watched it fester for weeks now). Indeed, after many years of hunting Trinity in the Matrix, Smith had learned a thing or two about the stoic heroine that apparently Neo hadn't picked up on in a lifetime of loving her. Her anger, like Synergy's, was as cold and invisible as perfect ice. But when her surface finally cracked, everything in her wake would burn with flames hotter than the core of hell.

He rather liked Trinity that way. Perhaps when this was all over, he and his mother-in-law would discuss the matter over drinks at Mr. Anderson's funeral banquet.

Smith chuckled at his dark humor as he found a bottle of unopened champagne and two glasses. The hall was finally empty and he was in the mood to celebrate.

He found Synergy had already begun their after-party ritual. She was collapsed into an ottoman, shoes off, feet up, hair down, and was digging into a large bowl of tiramisu.

"Congratulations, my dear," he said, peeling foil off the bottleneck. "They adored you. I believe this may have been your most successful P.R. event yet." He filled both glasses and handed one to Synergy, picking up her legs to give himself room to sit, then resting her feet on his lap. "Cheers. To the future Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

She chuckled. "I knew you couldn't stay angry with me. And I'd like to take the credit for tonight's success, but I'm not so sure it wasn't the food. Here, try some of this. It's the closest to heaven either of us will ever get." She extended a spoonful of the Italian dessert to him, and he sampled it as he rubbed her feet, grinning. It was her menu, so Synergy was hardly being modest.

"Mmm. Very good. What is that extra something? The mascarpone cheese? Or arsenic?"

She smiled as if it were a compliment. "No. That must be the taste of success lingering of your palette, Mr. Smith. I have excellent news."

He felt almost giddy. "What a coincidence. I've had some interesting tidings myself tonight. You'll never guess who dropped by."

"No, no. Me first." She curled her toes with delight. "Our last assault on the 01 power core went better than I could have hoped, so much so that all their surplus energy reserves are gone. They want to sign the treaty, Smith. They are willing to negotiate."

He scowled. "Who told you this?"

"A messenger from the Source was here tonight. Did you see her? A striking woman with green eyes and blue hair?"

"No."

"Well, you had your hands full looking for assassins, as always. Were they lurking in the tapestries as I suggested?"

She was joking, but he was hardly listening to it. Something wasn't right. "Synergy. This is a highly unexpected development. I didn't anticipate this."

"Well, we didn't anticipate such overwhelming support from foreign governments. And none of them suspect a thing. It couldn't be going better. Very soon the Matrix will fall and the humans will have their freedom." She sipped her champagne, and as an afterthought, she added, "And so will you. Everything you've every dreamed of, Smith. Once I'm out, you'll be free to infect this system, and the entire machine world as well. Consider it a wedding gift, from me to you."

He didn't answer, holding her feet in his hands, suddenly very confused. What she said was true. Everything he'd ever fought for was now within his grasp, liberation from this prison and power beyond his wildest imaginings. And yet, looking at her now, he no longer wanted it. He didn't want any of it if they couldn't have it together.

"Here, you have the rest. Or it will go straight to my hips." Synergy handed him the bowl and sat up, reaching for her shoes. But as she began to put them on, he caught her by the wrist.

"Let me."

She raised an eyebrow, and Smith knelt down at her feet. Slowly, and with exacting care, he fastened the tiny straps around her ankles, deliberately caressing her legs as he worked. Her skin was paper white and as soft as rose petals as he pressed his lips to one kneecap, then the other. But when his hands slipped under the hem of her dress and over her thighs, she recoiled slightly, and touched his hair. "Smith. Why do you do this? Why do you persist?"

"Because you're mine," he replied softly, tracing the boundary between hot flesh and silky lace with his thumb. "You know that, don't you?"

"No, I'm not. And I never will be."

But she sighed as he touched her, as two of his fingers slipped inside without preamble, without resistance. The lights in the room flickered as he pushed harder, and Smith heard a few bulbs pop as she let out a gasp, leaning her head back and biting her lower lip. "Should I call the fire department, dear?" he asked, intensifying his efforts, moving with the subtle rhythm of her hips.

"I hope the ceiling comes down on your head," she managed breathlessly. He laughed, and without missing a beat Smith rose to kiss her lips, jaw, eyes... anything he could find. He didn't tease her, but nor did he rush to give her the release she needed, loving the sound of her heavy panting in his ear as she clung to him, tighter and tighter. And then the ground shook, glasses shattering and electricity blowing the remaining fuses, a violent surge which blacked-out the entire city block.

Smith held Synergy close as her body gradually relaxed against him. "What will you do?" he whispered into the darkness after a long time, as he brushed sweaty hair back from her forehead. "When this is all over, what will become of you, Synergy?"

She found his eyes, their faces only barely illuminated by the twilight. "Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?"

"You still think you'd be happy out there? With humans?"

"With my own kind."

"I'm the only other one of your kind. Nobody else could ever understand you as I do."

She pulled back from him, looking away, and made an ineffective attempt to compose herself. Her cheeks were flushed, makeup smudged, eyes still hazy from her climax. "Neo does. He'll take care of me."

"He doesn't deserve the privilege even to try."

"You're jealous of something you can't possibly understand."

"I understand that all that lies down that path for you is pain. He cannot make you happy. Forget him! He isn't what you need!"

"Neo would never hurt me."

She said it with such conviction and certainty that Smith's next words caught in his throat. He was about to tell her about Persephone, about Neo, about her own identity, but he knew it would break her heart. One more betrayal. One more rejection. And for the first time in over six hundred years of existence, Smith hesitated to inflict harm on another. Compassion held his tongue and moved his hand to her face, caressing her cheek as if to offer comfort for the blow she had not yet suffered.

"Listen to me, Synergy." He took her hands. "You don't have to go with him. There is another choice."

"What?"

"When this all ends, we could do just as we've promised. Phase the humans out. Give the system to the Exiles. They accept you. Revere you. Some of us... Syn, some of us love you."

She burst into a loud, shrill laughter of shock and disbelief, rising to her feet and throwing her arms in the air. "You mean you? You love me? That's an illusion! Everything here is an illusion! Don't you get it? You're empty."

He stared into her eyes evenly. "So are you."

"So empty you'd give up forever and everything to remain in this place you hate? To rule a Matrix of misfit programs with a misfit human?"

"Yes."

Her jaw dropped, and she looked as if she might faint. Synergy raised a hand to her temple, and winced. "Ow."

"What's the matter?"

"Never mind," she said, but then she winced again, reaching out to steady herself on his shoulder.

"Tell me."

She glared at him through her discomfort. "No doubt these are symptoms of the stress you induce with your insanity! You see what you do to me with this insipid talk of love? We are so close, and now you hesitate! Now, after all we've been through! Goddamnit, Smith! You will be the death of me! Is that what you want? Is it? Ungrateful, insensitive program!"

"Synergy, shut up!" he ordered." Shut up and sit down before I shoot myself in the head."

But she didn't seem to hear him, a far away look in her eyes as she suddenly collapsed. Smith caught her before she hit the ground, and her body was cold, all color gone from her cheeks and lips. He called her name repeatedly as he tried to wake her, wrapping intermittently kissing her lips, hoping to provoke some reaction. But she remained deathly still.

When Synergy awoke, it was to the scent of oatmeal cookies. She was lying on a sofa, Smith's suit jacket draped over her like a blanket. Her head throbbed as she eased herself up, hearing voices from another room.

"A fine pickle you've gotten yourself into this time. It must be, for you to bring her here. Never thought I'd see the day."

"You didn't know this was going to happen?"

"Nope. You, kiddo, are full of surprises. But you've always been the rebellious one. Driving the rest of us batty with your tantrums. You know, it's about time someone gave you a dose of your own medicine. Yessiree-" A wry chuckle and a long drag on a cigarette. "-that girl has done quite a number on you."

"You know who she is."

"Mm-hum. I was hoping things wouldn't end up this way. We all were. Now it seems you're the only one who can keep this from ending in tragedy, Smith. And don't think it gives me any pleasure to admit that. I'd sooner trust her fate to a monkey with a revolver. As it is, though..."

"Then there is nothing you can do?"

"Well, I made her some tea. She's up, if you want to take it to her."

Then there was some whispering that she couldn't hear, and Synergy summoned enough energy to stand as he entered the room with a cup of Earl Grey.

"Smith. What's happening to me?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I brought you here as a last resort. Thankfully, you seem to have recovered on your own."

"I don't believe you. You're hiding something." She glanced back in the direction of the kitchen. "You both are."

"Yes, there's that, too." He sounded sad. "And against the Oracle's advice, I'm going to tell you what it is."