Thank you to everyone who reviewed the Teaser - it made me happy to see that some of you enjoyed it. This is the first draft of Chapter One - I reserve the right to change it, but I don't think it will change much.
When you start this chapter, you may feel a bit lost at first, but please stick with it - (trust me I know what I'm doing!). Enjoy!
Prologue to Chapter One-
Zion. circa2219.
TRINITY: Hello, Neo.
NEO: How did you know that --
TRINITY: I know a lot about you. I've been wanting to meet you for some time.
NEO: Who are you?
TRINITY: My name is Trinity.
NEO: Trinity? The Trinity? The Trinity that cracked the I.R.S. Kansas City D-Base?
TRINITY:That was a long time ago.
NEO: Gee-zus.
TRINITY: What?
NEO: I just thought... you were a guy.
TRINITY: Most guys do.
NEO:Do you want to go somewhere and talk?
TRINITY: No. It's safe here and I don't have much time.
NEO:That was you on the board tonight. That was your note, wasn't it?
TRINITY: I had to gamble that you would see and they wouldn't.
NEO:Who wouldn't?
TRINITY:I can't explain everything to you. I'm sure that it's all going to seem very strange, but I brought you here to warn you, Neo. You are in alot of danger.
NEO: What? Why?
TRINITY: They're watching you. Something happened and they found out about you. Normally, if our target is exposed we let it go. But this time, we can't do that.
NEO:I don't understand --
TRINITY: You came here because you wanted to know the answer to a hacker's question.
NEO: The Matrix. What is the Matrix?
TRINITY: Twelve years ago I met a man, a great man, who said that no one could be told the answer to that question. That they had to see it, to believe it. He told me that no one should look for the answer unless they have to because once you see it, everything changes. Your life and the world you live in will never be the same. It's as if you wake up one morning and the sky is falling. The truth is out there, Neo. It's looking for you and it will find you, if you want it to. That's all I can tell you right now. Good-bye, Neo. And good luck.
NEO: Wait. Who was it? Who was the man?
TRINITY: You know who.
I wanted to begin our story, reader, with a legitimate version of the very famous conversation that my parents had when they first met. Unfortunately, no official record exists of the dialogue that passed between them that night. Therefore, I have had to compromise by using an… alternative source.
What you just read is the script from my grade 4 class's production of "The Freeing of the One".
And yes, reader. I did play the role of Trinity. I was only ten years old at the time, so Niobe helped me make a costume from the shiny black rubber that ship-builders use for insulation.
"It's very good, Niobe. But I don't recall ever wearing a cape." My mother's cool comment to her friend after the play couldn't mask her visible discomfort. You see, reader, nobody had actually told my mother what the play was going to be about. If anyone had, we all know she wouldn't have come.
But to her credit, she did sit through the performance (with a slightly mortified expression plastered on her face). I suppose it didn't help that the audience would stand and applaud whenever I jumped through a window or scorpion-kicked an Agent, all the while (masterfully) delivering classic 'Trinity-coined phrases' such as "dodge this".
Clearly, the story of "The Freeing of the One" has reached a legendary status in our society. Everyone knows the story, or thinks they know the story, and everyone has their favourite version of events. Still, the only assurance that I can give you that the script I have presented here is in fact accurate, is my father's rather dismissive affirmation that the conversation "went something like that".
My mother wasn't much help in unraveling the mystery, either. As predicted, she used her most hackneyed cop-out "I don't really remember, Rorie." Trust me, reader. My mother is a remarkable woman in that she forgets nothing.
It is acutely frustrating, of course, to have to rely on second-hand information when you are so close to the source. Apparently, unmasking the truth about a legend is difficult, even if you are the offspring of said legend's living heroes (go figure).
At this point, perhaps I owe the reader a clarification. As I have already suggested, it is not my intention to replace our great legends with an objective, factual truth. Indeed, the very purpose of this documentary-of-sorts is to preserve the present richness and vitality of the stories. That being said, I also feel an obligation to preserve as much history as possible - that is, to supplement the stories with as many residual facts as I am able to discover and record. The result, I hope, will be something of a mosaic.
At least, I thought this is what I wanted to do. However, it didn't take long for me to begin to question the wisdom of my methods.
You see, in beginning my research, I invested much time in studying what can arguably be called the Nebuchadnezzar's most famous mission: ie, "The Freeing of the One". This included many long hours of meticulously extracting data from the damaged computer-chips and charred hard-drives that were found at the site of the ruined ship. Morpheus had saved everything the recovery-teams found for sentimental value, but nobody thought that any of the hardware was salvageable. People give up too easily.
For many days I didn't find anything of interest, and it was against the advice of my parents and my friends that I continued with the work. Finally, I discovered what I had been looking for on a small back-up drive, tossed into a box full of other junk, untouched for over twenty years. And what I found, dear reader, was not so much a reward for my efforts, but a punishment. Indeed, after reading document 1.03.11/99, I almost wished I had never gone searching for answers in the first place:
"How could you have written this, Mother! Does Morpheus know about this? Does Dad?"
My mother's complexion changed color several times before she could even move. She just stared at the computer screen, speechless, her mouth ajar. She then went to the door of my room, closed it, and turned to address me in a calm, low voice.
"Where did you find that?"
"In the memory chips that you told me not to 'waste my time with'. Now I know why you didn't want me to look through them… Gasp! … What would Zion think? What's next, mother? Maybe you were actually working with Cyph- "
"Aurora."
I immediately stopped. My mother very seldom used my real name. Dark brown met icy blue as our eyes joined and locked. Feeling betrayed, feeling that she owed me some sort of explanation, I wasn't about to back down. Not this time.
"You don't know what you're talking about." My mother ran her hands through her long, wavy, black hair. She walked the length of my room and sat on my bed. "I never sent it, Rorie."
A long silence passed as I decided whether or not I believed her. I did.
"But why? Why would you even think…"
My mother sighed in exasperation. Her eyes then wandered around the room, seemingly looking for answers on the rough granite walls that surrounded us. It was a few moments before she finally spoke.
"Come here." She gestured for me to join her on the bed.
I got up from the desk, and sat next to her. When she turned to look at me, her expression was serious, but her eyes were soft.
"Believe it or not, Rorie... Your father wasn't always the One. We didn't just… stumble upon him one day flying around and destroying agents. And, for that matter, Morpheus wasn't always wise, either. He didn't have all the answers. And your mother… well, your mother wasn't always right. And she wasn't always brave. Things were much more complicated than that."
"I know." She hadn't really answered my question. "I know that. But…" I was unsure how to continue.
"Yes?"
"… but you told me that you… loved him. You told me you loved Dad even before you met him. Then why…"
"That's exactly why." My mother shook her head and smiled wryly to herself, her voice a mere whisper. "I loved him. And I was too much of a coward to let Morpheus risk his life. Not for a war, not for an Oracle, not for Zion, not for anything. And if I didn't respect the hell out of Morpheus - I would have sent it. I would have sent it in a second."
CHAPTER 1-
NEBUCHADNEZZAR. circa2199.
Wrapped tightly in a blanket in the Operator's chair, legs folded up against her chest, Trinity watches the drizzling green code. The eerie glow from the screen is giving her a headache. No, not the screen. Neo. Neo is giving her a headache. Again.
"Happy Birthday, love the gang at Metacortex." It is a mumble under her breath. It sure was nice for all of them to get him a cake… albeit two days late.
Trinity can't help but roll her eyes at the screen.
Oh, strike two for the stupid-but-attractive "Barbara from management". Neo doesn't like Black Forest cake… because he hates cherries. The guy takes them off his sundays and picks them out of his fruit salads. But you don't care, do you? You lost the rock-paper-scissors battle with "Irving from accounting", so you had to run out for the cake. Two days late.
You know, if Agents show up to kill Neo, I hope you get caught in a cross-fire.
Trinity frowns. And sighs.
If I could, I'd order him a cake myself… just hack into a bakery database, and Voila! Morpheus would kill me… but how would he ever find out? I'll bet Neo would like a bunt cake. A marble bunt. With icing-sugar sprinkled on top. God, it's the least we could do for the poor guy.
She suddenly feels sick. Because we're going to kill him…if the Agents don't first.
"Ouch. Company birthday party. Poor Mr. Anderson."
Trinity looks up, startled.
Tank smiles kindly at his friend. "You want a re-fill?"
"Yes. I'm freezing." Trinity gulps down the cold water in the mug she is holding, and then hands it to Tank, who has a thermos of freshly boiled water. Trinity wasn't thirsty, but the hot mug kept her hands warm during long shifts in the Operator's chair. And lately, she had been doing many long shifts. Double shifts. Sometimes more.
Trinity's eyes return to the screen, and she suddenly looks very depressed. "So, he's 37."
Tank just looks at her. He had heard that the new Target was old, but Christ.
"He's 37." She repeats herself, almost in a whisper. We're going to kill him. Cypher is right.
Tank knows what she's thinking. He knows because that's what everyone was thinking, but nobody would say it. At least, not to Trinity. And certainly, not to Morpheus.
"Morpheus believes that…"
"Yes. I know." Trinity cuts him off, feeling frustrated.
Tank was now feeding her back her own lines. Morpheus believes he is the One. She had fed that line to Cypher, Tank, Mouse… but every time she said those words they left a bitter, metallic taste in her mouth. Empty words. They meant nothing to her, they meant nothing to the crew. And they wouldn't mean anything to Neo.
"Look, you wanna watch him? I'm exhausted."
"Hey, you were taking my shift anyway."
Trinity gets up and walks back to her room briskly. She throws her blanket onto the bed, and yanks off her boots and slips under the covers, pulling them tightly around her. She is freezing, but it isn't the cold that is bothering her. It's Neo. She couldn't stop herself from thinking about him. The quiet, lonely, lactose-intolerant computer-programmer from Metacortex.
Her voice is a faint whisper in the dark room. "Come on, Trinity. You're stronger than this. You're smarter than this. You don't even know him."
But that wasn't true. She did know him. That was precisely the problem. For two long months she had watched him from the monitors in the Neb, and from street corners and neighbouring apartments in the Matrix. She'd read his programs, and followed his hacks. She'd even stolen copies of his medical files, dental records, and high-school report cards. Oh, yes, she'd been very busy. After all, First-Officer Trinity never half-asses anything.
In truth, for all of her efforts, Trinity had discovered that Thomas Anderson was completely… unremarkable in almost every possible way. His programming skills were, on occasion, decent. And his hacking skills were above average. Sometimes Good. What she most liked was his style, though. Very elegant. Very clean. Like his personality. Quiet and subtle. But strong.
Suddenly, curled in a ball in her bed, Trinity is overcome with an impending sense of doom. It is a familiar feeling these days. She gets up and switches on her computer.
"What the hell am I going to do? What the hell am I going to do?" Trinity mumbles to the darkness and she opens a password-protected file. Her eyes scan the dreaded letter that she'd written two days earlier.
1.03.11/99
MATRIX DATE: MARCH 11, 1999.
TO: JASON LOCK, FLEET COMMANDER
FIRST OFFICER'S REPORT.NEBUCHADNEZZAR
CONTENTS ARE ENCRYPTED AND URGENT.
Sir,
SEE ATTACHED THE FILES OF THE TARGET THAT CAPTAIN MORPHEUS IS PURSUING, SCREEN NAME: NEO. CLEARLY, THIS TARGET IS NOT A LEGITIMATE OPTION. AGENTS HAVE IDENTIFIED HIM AS OUR PRESENT OBJECTIVE, MAKING THE OPERATION EXTREMELY RISKY.
HE POSSESSES NO SPECIAL TRAITS THAT WOULD MAKE THE RISK OF PURSUING HIS FREEDOM WORTHWHILE. STILL, OUR ORDERS REMAIN TO FOLLOW THROUGH.
ALTHOUGH CAPTAIN MORPHEUS' JUDGEMENT IN SUCH MATTERS HAS BEEN NOTHING LESS THAN EXCELLENT IN THE PAST, IT IS MY BELIEF THAT IN THE PRESENT CIRCUMSTANCE, HE IS PLACING THIS CREW AT GREAT RISK IN ORDER TO PURSUE A PERSONAL AGENDA. IT IS IMMORAL, IRRESPONSIBLE, RECKLESS BEHAVIOUR, UNFITTING A CAPTAIN OF THE RESISTANCE.
I HAVE CLEARLY EXPRESSED MY JUDGEMENT, AND HAVE BEEN IGNORED.
SIR, I RECOMMEND THAT THE NEB BE CALLED BACK TO ZION AND THE COUNCIL BEGIN AN INVESTIGATION INTO THIS MATTER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
TRINITY, FIRST SENIOR OFFICER, NEBUCHADNEZZAR
circa2199
Trinity regards the letter with a disgusted expression on her face. Lock would eat this up with a spoon. He'd probably promote me the Section Chief, the anal bastard.
But she knows she won't send it. She can't. Trinity doesn't even know what possessed her to write it in the first place. She had just panicked. She had lost her nerve, and, feeling trapped, she'd panicked. Hell, she is still panicking. Her chest feels tight and her palms are sweaty.
Neo is going to die and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
She's practically nauseous. "Shit."
Trinity runs her hands through her short, greasy hair, and grips it tightly in two fists. Yes, she's panicking… but more than that, she is angry. She's angry with Morpheus, and she'd been angry with Morpheus for a long time.
You made a mess of things with Niobe and Ghost… and now you're making a mess of things with Neo. Is it worth it, Morpheus? Is it worth your life? Our crew's life? My life? …What about Neo's?
In truth, Trinity was prepared to risk her life for Morpheus. Not for the Prophecy, but for Morpheus. They had been to hell and back together, and she belonged on this ship. She knew that. She'd made her choice a long time ago. They had all made their choices.
The problem… is that Neo doesn't have a choice. He can't dodge a bullet that he doesn't see coming.
Aggravated, she shuts off the computer, yanks out the memory chip from the hard drive, and examines it.
"Neo is Morpheus' pawn, and Morpheus is the Oracle's pawn." Trinity, leaning back in her chair, again appeals to the wisdom of the dark room. "And who is the Oracle?"
Perhaps she's the machine's goddamned pawn. Trinity didn't trust the woman. Never had. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were all being manipulated; the idea that this mysterious woman's Purpose was to guide humanity to redemption was ludicrous. It seemed much more likely that she was another type of control. A false prophet, so to speak.
Well, false or not, she's Morpheus' prophet. So, let Morpheus fall in love with Neo. I'm not searching for a saviour, and I'm not searching for a lover. Neo isn't the answer to my goddamned prayers. That will be one less thing on the guy's shoulders. If he lives. Which he won't.
"This is your show, Morpheus." Trinity takes the memory chip and indiscriminately tosses it into a drawer of her desk.
Let Neo's death be on your head.
Please read and review - chapter 2 will come, and continue along the same lines. up asap
Oh, some studious fans will recognize that thedialogue which opened this chapter (the grade 4play!) was actually taken from the original, unedited Matrix script. I think of that as a nod to the Wachowski's, particularly for Matrix1, which was (as we all know, lack of nudity or not), the best of the 3 films.
While on the subject, I have read some other fics here and see that it is customary to give credit to the creators of the Matix for the concept and characters. Yes, of course. They are not mine.
Oh... but (as you may have realized), Rorie is my creation. I hope you like her! Granted, she can be kinda "uppidy" at times, but, she IS THE DAUGHTER OF LIVING GODS, so let's try and give her a break!
Lol - please review, I want to know what you all think! Kristen