Title: The Best Homework Excuse Ever
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own the Matrix trilogy, the canon characters, story or anything related. I can only wish that I did. I make no profit from this – I am merely exercising my writing skills for the reading pleasure of readers. However, I own this story. I own the character Chase, and Lady Delerith owns Ari.
Authors' Notes:
Solia: Anyone who knows me will note in this chapter how much Chase really is like me. Her fear of causing scenes, her fear of bad hair and her dislike of arguments all relate to the real me. Although, you probably got a better idea of Chase in the previous chapter, and will again in chapter nine.
To all Ari fans (including Lady Delerith, who personalised her Christmas card to me by putting "Ari is better!" on the inside cover) I apologise for the lack of previous insight into Ari's personality. Up until here there's been little information on her, and even I've noticed that the Chase chapters are distinctly deeper and more descriptive. I think I do it because Chase is my character, and is based on myself, so it's easier for me to describe her. This year at school I'm going to take notes on Lady Delerith's every move so I can make Ari chapters more personal.
And to those loyal readers, who review all the time (and to everyone else) – are you Ari fans or Chase fans? Where do you want to see these two end up? There are a few ideas floating around between Lady Delerith and I (we've pretty much decided all that happens between now and Matrix Revolutions) but for after that, we'd like to hear your opinions.
Lady Delerith: I would like to thank Cerrita, the current no.1 Ari fan. You rock, dude. And I still want people to read this: ?storyid1795638Because it's cool.
THE BEST HOMEWORK EXCUSE EVER: Chapter Eight
ZION: Part two
"There she is! Show no mercy!"
The shout echoed throughout the underground car park, bouncing off the cement walls, posts, floor and ceiling. Ari braced herself, taking a deep breath and rearranging the strong, perfect placement of her combat-booted feet. She flexed her fingers, tight about her two remaining pistols. Two rounds waited in her belt for when the guns she held ran out.
This was Ari's favourite stance – feet braced shoulder-width apart, arms relaxed with her guns at her side. She would probably look just that little bit cooler if there were some sort of breeze to flutter her shoulder-length black ringlets.
Oh, well.
The SWAT team burst into the car part from the elevator, sniper rifles raised and ready to bring her down. They would show no mercy – well, neither would Ari.
She raised her arms and brought the guns up to eye level, narrowed her eyes and squeezed the triggers with both hands. She had killed two men before they got the chance to begin firing at her, and by that point, she had ducked behind a cement support post.
They kept firing. One bullet hit a nearby car (which was a pity, because it was a nice car) and set off a bright spark. Ari blinked. She had to learn not to blink. She took a deep breath and leaned around the corner to continue firing. Thankfully, her hair didn't fall into her face or block her vision in any way. That was good, because she had a bit of a hard time seeing anyway with the semi-darkness and the sparks, and of course the fact that she narrowed her eyes whilst firing to avoid incessant blinking.
A few more screams and cries of pain let Ari know that she was doing well. But she couldn't hang around forever. The idea was to kill them all and take the elevator up to ground level. How many left? Eight? Nine?
She jumped back behind her post just in time to save herself from the bullet that had been speeding for her head. Damn – another near miss. That would set her back a few points. Annoyed, Ari turned so that she was facing the support post. Ignoring the enemy bullets, she carefully leaned around so that she could count them. Eight remaining. She moved behind the post again to protect her face and body, then, remembering where those men were, jumped out and squeezed off the remainder of the loaded bullets into the SWAT members. Then she turned and bolted.
There was a big jeep coming up that she could use to hide behind, but she was going to get hit before she got there. So she abruptly swerved in between the other parked cars, hearing the rapid-fired bullets tailing her, tracing dotted lines on the metallic paint of the cars. She leaped onto the bonnet of a green Subaru, ran across the roof of it and rolled down the back, landing on her hands and bouncing herself immediately back onto her feet. She had to get to that jeep – it was the hardiest car here and the safest cover. She couldn't reload until she got there.
Almost there… one last dodge behind this grey Honda… At last Ari rolled behind the jeep, safe for now. Panting a little, she ejected the empty rounds and reloaded both pistols. She glanced underneath the jeep, behind the wheel. Five pairs of legs, pounding towards her. She took aim and fired at one leg, the one that looked closest. There was a cry, and a man fell heavily to the cement. Ari finished him off with a few bullets to his forehead.
Four left. Ari stood, turning to face them, and fired repeatedly into their armour-plated chests. It took only a few seconds to get them all to the floor. Two were still alive. There was no point in wasting bullets on them. They were harmless now.
Ari ran to the elevator. She had just hit the faulty "up" button when her surroundings began to drop away into nothingness. The simulation was over. For a moment there was just white, the Construct, and then she was opening her eyes to the brightly lit training unit, where she came every three days to take part in a training program for young Matrix escapees with aspirations of working on board a hovercraft.
"Why didn't you kill the remaining SWAT?"
Damn – Dasne, Ari's teacher and examiner. She always found problems in Ari's simulations.
"Because they no longer posed a threat to me or anyone else and I thought it best to save my bullets," Ari replied. Dasne removed the head jack from the metal inlet in Ari's head. At first it had seemed really weird to feel that metal spike slipping into or out of a hole in the back of her head, but after four months of the training, it was less freaky.
"You know that the simulation ends in the elevator. Why would you need bullets after that?" Dasne drilled. Ari sat up with a sigh.
"Because in a real operation the threat doesn't always end when it's supposed to," she said dully. Why couldn't Dasne just trust her judgement for once? "If I was really in the Matrix, I would have reached ground level and, knowing my luck, there would have been fifty more SWAT there waiting for me. And what good do two empty guns do against fifty SWAT?"
Dasne sat back in her chair, silently considering Ari's answer. She spun her swivel chair around to face her computer and typed in a comment.
Sometimes Ari wondered what Dasne's problem with her was. She always had to come up with something wrong with Ari's performance. She always seemed to be looking for something wrong.
Was it because she didn't like Ari's punky, full-on attitude? Did she honestly believe that Ari simply was completely useless when it came to this? Because Ari didn't, and her test results from other examiners set her as one of the top three in the program. Was it something dumb, like, Dasne didn't like girls with dark hair because her childhood bully was dark-haired?
Or did she actually hate everybody with plugs because her own head plug had been damaged in an accident five years ago, rendering her incapable of ever entering the Matrix or having the head jack inserted into her skull for training programs again?
"Well, I'm off," Ari said, getting to her feet.
"I'll send the results to your file," Dasne said without even glancing at her. Rolling her eyes privately, Ari turned and walked away. Standing in the archway, leaning against the frame, was Chase.
"I'm never going to get a job. My examiner hates me," Ari muttered once she got close enough. Chase straightened and followed her out of the chamber.
"She's like that with everybody. Even me," Chase assured her. "Besides, who cares? Everyone knows that Dasne has a problem with people with a foreseeable future. It's just the way she is."
"I've never seen her with anyone else. To me, she's just my evil examiner."
Chase laughed once, lightly, watching her feet as they walked side-by-side away from the training chamber. She was taking part in the program, too. There were quite a few different occupations a person could take up here in Zion. They could take medical training and become a medic or nurse. They could become mechanics or builders. They could become cooks or they could grow food. They could join the military forces. They could work in the politics of the city.
But both Ari and Chase were in involved in a training program that would eventually get them to the standards needed to apply for a job on board a hovercraft as a crewmember. It wasn't really their choice. For the past ten months the city had watched them closely, as though expecting them to each grow wings and start performing miracles. No luck so far. So it had seemed a good idea to join this youth training curriculum, so one day, with adequate training and experience, they might be able to live up to expectations.
Ari heard something vaguely, then realised that Chase had asked her a question.
"Sorry – what?" she asked, snapping herself back to the conversation.
"I asked if you had seen Tear," Chase repeated.
"No. Not since this morning. She's probably at lunch."
Fifteen minutes later the two fifteen-year-olds stepped into the mess hall. Ari had been fifteen since the beginning of May, and Chase since early July (it was now about late October).
They spotted still-thirteen Teardrop sitting alone at a table, muttering something medical to herself.
"Did you know that talking to yourself is meant to be the first sign of craziness?" Chase asked as she sat down to Tear's right.
"Looking for hairs on your palm is the second sign," Ari added, plonking onto the bench on Tear's other side. Tear looked up, then examined her soft pale palms.
"But there are no hairs on your palms," she said, and Ari laughed.
"It's a joke," she said. "Maybe you were a little young for that one."
Someone dropped down in front of Ari. She looked up. A girl of about sixteen or seventeen was sitting in front of her. She had wild, out-of-control, frizzy mousy-brown hair and a hook-like nose. She was heavy-set and bulky. She had plugs on her bare, built arms.
"I just went down to the docks to see Captain Glyph," the girl began hostilely, "to see if the position I wanted on his ship was still free. I've been after that job for years – working hard to make sure I'm the perfect candidate for the day when Dynasty retires. Glyph knows how much I wanted that job. But when I saw him not half an hour ago, do you know what he said to me?"
Ari didn't answer. She had no idea who this girl was or what she was talking about. She just stared at her in bewildered silence along with Chase and Teardrop.
"He told me that the position had already been filled," the girl continued, glaring right at Chase. "I was disappointed, but I knew that another job would open up sooner or later. I asked about that, and can you take a wild guess as to what he said? No?" The girl smacked her hands down onto the table. "He said that when a position next becomes available onboard his ship, he's already put in a notice of preference for two girls called Chase and Ari. And look who just happens to be sitting right in front of me."
Chase said nothing – she hated confrontations – but Ari was annoyed. Who did this girl think she was?
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded.
"Glorious," the girl snapped. She had a New York accent. "Not that it has anything to do with you."
"And what makes you think you can just walk up to us and speak to us like that?" Ari asked hotly, indicating her friends. Apart from Chase and Tear, Ari hadn't managed to make any other real friends in the last ten months. Kind of sad, yes, but then again, Ari had never been a very friendly girl.
"Only the fact that the two of you stole my job," Glorious snarled. She was really angry, and pretty scary, but while bad hair might scare Chase, she didn't frighten Ari. She stood, perfectly prepared to punch her if it came to it. Glorious did the same. Chase leaped up and grabbed Ari's arm to restrain her.
"I'm sure it was a mistake," Chase said quickly, trying to defuse the tension. A few people were watching, and Chase hated causing a scene. "We can't even start working on a ship for another two years."
"They don't even know any Captain Glyph-" Teardrop said, trying to defend Chase and Ari, but Glorious shot her down.
"Don't give me that shit, Barbie," Glorious snapped. "Stupid blonde."
"Hey," Chase said, releasing Ari's arm. "Leave her alone. She hasn't done anything to you. And neither have we."
"So find somewhere else to be," Ari said angrily. She flexed her fingers. Glorious noticed.
"Gonna hit me, are you?" she taunted.
"I thought I'd do you a favour and reshape your nose."
"Ari," Chase warned.
"What? Favours are nice."
"What kind of names are Chase and Ari, anyway?" Glorious continued, and by now it was evident that she was only trying to piss them off. "Chase? Sounds plastic. I suppose you're the Little Miss Perfect? Teacher's pet? Goody-two-shoes? Figures – probably the only reason Glyph has you in preference."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Ari said furiously.
"Look, I'm sorry about the job, but I don't have to sit around and be insulted for being chosen over you," Chase said coolly. She took Ari and Tear's wrists and pulled them both away.
"Running off to the teachers now, teacher's pet?" Glorious asked loudly. Chase rolled her eyes and ignored her. Ari admired her patience.
Glorious walked around the table as the other three walked away.
"And what about you, Ari? What's your name meant to represent?"
Ari wrenched her wrist away from Chase's hand and turned back to Glorious. She was just about to snap out a scathing comment, but someone else, an unfamiliar voice, spoke instead.
"But what about you? What's your name? Sorry, I missed the start of the argument."
Ari noticed a curvy, hairless girl of Glorious's age and height with honey-coloured skin standing nearby. She held a tray in her hands. The girl was plain-featured with round brown eyes and the air of a strong, full-on person.
"Why?" Glorious asked.
"I'm asking," the other girl replied simply.
"Glorious."
The new girl laughed.
"Glorious?" she asked. She walked over and placed her tray on the table near Glorious. "Who told you that you were glorious? Oh, sorry, that's your name? Not too self-absorbed, are we? Can you walk out the door with a head your size? You'd better be able to."
Glorious stared at her, dumbfounded. Someone giggled.
"Don't speak to me, Baldy," she snapped. The new girl smiled as she sat down.
"I don't mind being bald," she said sweetly. She sounded English. "I'm safe with the assurance that when my hair does grow back, it won't look like yours." She motioned to Ari, Chase and Teardrop to come back over to her. "Now unless you want me and (Ari, isn't it?) to make good on her generous offer of fixing that disaster of a nose of yours, piss off."
A few of the people watching sniggered, and, boiling red, Glorious stormed away. Ari, Chase and Tear sat down again. The girl took a bite of her food, swallowed, and then offered her hand to Ari.
"Cinnamon Brown," the girl said by way of introduction. Ari smiled and shook her hand.
"I'm Ari," she answered warmly. Was this girl her long-lost sister, or what? "Thanks for helping us out."
"Not good for my first day, I suppose," Cinnamon said sheepishly. "I can't stand chicks like her. Oh, well – you three can be my first friends. I still haven't met my roommates. They weren't home."
"You just arrived today?" Teardrop asked. She cringed. "Damn – I was meant to stay home today. We're getting a new roommate."
"It's probably me," Cinnamon said. "That'll be cool. We can all band together against that Glorious chick."
Ari hoped Cinnamon turned out to be their new flatmate. Chase and Teardrop introduced themselves, but Ari was hardly listening. She now had three friends, one serious enemy, and, apparently, an admirer in this Captain Glyph guy.
Unlike Chase (well, Sophie, to be more correct), she had never been a social butterfly with fifty million friends. And in this huge, lonely city, where people (like Glorious) saw her as a threat rather than a potential friend, it looked like she had found her little band of allies.