It dawned on Trinity the next morning that she had one possible resource for answers: the Oracle. If she existed in this version of the Matrix, she might be the only person she could turn to.
She skipped rooftop yoga that morning, but she did make her usual coffee and bagel stop. As she bit into the soft bread, she had to marvel at how real it was. In fact, nothing about her life as she walked down the street felt like a dream, even with memories of her true self now intact. Without ever attempting it, she knew there was no way she could "bend" reality the way she used to; running up a wall or jumping from roof to roof would surely not end well.
She realized, too, that this version of the Matrix wasn't the same one she was freed from—that much was perfectly clear. Technology was advanced. She was happier. The dissonance she'd felt for so much of her life was nonexistent here… It stood to reason that this was the content life she might've lived had she not been drawn to discover the truth, which meant that Neo was likely also living out a more content version of his life as Thomas.
This was a more peaceful world, as well. She couldn't recall the last time she'd heard about a war or natural disaster; those were distant memories of a past life. Grabbing a copy of The Daily Sentinel, she confirmed her observation: mostly good news. The front page story was about a local lottery winner, and inside there was a report about an increased number of rainbow mornings— a mysterious, sporadic phenomenon that filled the sky with color, Angel's feature story on a woman who had been reunited with her brother after 12 years, and more. Of course, it wasn't all good; there were still the crime reports and an article about a car accident, but if there were a more stark contrast between the world of the Matrix she remembered and this new one, she couldn't think of it.
She found the old apartment building easily enough, but that looked different, too, as though it had been renovated. Taking the elevator, it seemed insane to think she'd find the Oracle in her old residence—she prepared herself for the likelihood that she'd have to say "sorry, wrong door" and go back to square one.
But after a knock, there came the sound of approaching footsteps, and the door opened.
"It's you," came Trinity's disbelief at seeing the Oracle before her.
"Ah, a familiar face," she replied with a warm smile. "Please come in."
Trinity followed her inside, grappling with the surreal familiarity of the living room she'd seen many times before. The kitchen even smelled like cookies.
The Oracle took a seat on the sofa and Trinity tentatively sat in a chair across from her. It was odd to be sitting there in jeans and sandals...not that she really missed the pleather.
"Well, go ahead. You have questions for me, don't you?"
Trinity nodded.
"How can any of this be happening?" she started. "What is this place?"
"When Neo defeated Smith and restored peace, it wasn't just restored to your world," the Oracle explained. "This is the world many of us wanted all along. A peaceful coexistence."
"But how can I be here? I died. In the real world. I remember."
"I'm afraid I don't have all the answers. This isn't me not telling you; it's me not knowing. But you being here in front of me tells me that someone chose to put you here. To rescue your consciousness and upload it. I can't tell you how they did it or who it was. But somewhere out there, someone was watching over you."
"That means… I'm a program?"
She barely believed the word even as she spoke it.
"The simple answer is yes. You're a consciousness with no physical body. But unlike most programs, you were uploaded, not written."
Trinity took a moment to process. "Are there others like me?"
"Of course. Most of the people you know in this world are programs—and we're grateful to be here. And there were those humans who chose to stay behind rather than accepting freedom. More than you might expect." She smiled. "But the difference is inconsequential. We're all just people living our lives. Candy?"
Trinity accepted the treat and sighed.
"I don't need to be an oracle to see that you have something else to ask me."
"I didn't remember any of this until yesterday. I met him. I met Neo in this world, but we were strangers. And then we… It all came back. But only for me. He doesn't remember."
Before the Oracle could respond, a girl appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, silently staring at Trinity. She smiled, and Trinity smiled back.
"Sati, are those cookies cooled enough now?" the Oracle asked, turning to her.
The girl nodded.
"Let's share them with our guest."
The girl disappeared and returned carrying a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies. Trinity took one and thanked her.
"Don't give up," Sati whispered before hurrying away again.
Trinity blinked, puzzled, and looked back to the Oracle.
"I wish I had an answer for you. I really do. But you found each other again; that's no coincidence."
Trinity left in a daze. She walked aimlessly over to the river, where she leaned against a railing and watched a group of children feeding turtles. She felt the way the sunlight warmed her skin, breathed the scent of the water, and listened to the gabble of the city.
An old, unpleasant memory bubbled to the surface:I disagree, Trinity. I think that the Matrix can be more real than this world.
A chill shot down her spine.
That evening, as she put on her makeup before the opening reception at the gallery, she thought about how ridiculous it was that she was dressing to impress Neo...but he wasn't Neo. Not yet. Still, she was looking forward to seeing him again.
She arrived a few hours early, as usual, to make sure the caterers were getting set up. Angel arrived shortly with her coworker and camera in tow.
"Holy shit," Angel said as she caught sight of her. "You look fancy!"
"Oh… Is this too much?"
"What? No, you look great. This is Julie Holst, who does the art blog. They said I could shoot this one and she could do a write-up, if that's okay?"
"Yes! Of course!" Trinity responded. "Nice to meet you, Julie. You know, we really have you to thank for this."
The news of a Sentinelfeature lifted her spirits, even if it was just for the art blog.
Not long after, the doors were open and guests started to arrive. Trinity checked her phone to see if she had any missed texts from Thomas, but nothing. She resumed greeting people and directing guests to the refreshments.
When he appeared, she almost went weak at the knees. He was in a suit, dressed nicer than she'd ever seen him, and she was instantly glad she'd decided on such a nice dress. He smiled when he saw her and she managed a professional greeting.
"Sorry, I ran a bit late," he said as he stepped inside.
"Oh, that's fine, that's….we're just getting started."
What are words?
"This looks great," he said, glancing around the room, and then back to her. "You look great."
"Thanks," she nodded. "You, too."
The evening went on smoothly, with Thomas talking to the Sentinelblogger for a while and answering people's questions about his work. Trinity kept catching herself watching him from afar and then snapping out of it. She started browsing his paintings. They took on a whole new light given her newfound memories. His cities of light twisted her heart. She paused at one for a while, a large work called Withinthat showed more contrast than many of the others. A dreamy city-shape of bright light emerged from a murky canvas. Neo's voice came back to her as she looked at it. It's unbelievable, Trin. Light everywhere. Like the whole thing was built of light. I wish you could see what I see.
"I've never seen you make it through multiple glasses of wine at one of these openings," Angel teased, coming up next to her.
Trinity shrugged and sighed, not even attempting to deny it.
"Are you alright?" Angel asked more softly.
"I'm fine."
She wanted to tell her what happened the previous night, but explaining the kiss scenario would be...interesting.
"I was going to head out, unless you'd like me to stay?" Angel asked.
"Oh, no, that's fine. Thanks for coming and shooting."
Angel looked distracted, and then spoke again, this time through her teeth in a little whisper. "He's on his way over here."
And then she was gone. Trinity turned back to the painting and sipped her riesling.
"I almost didn't include that one in the series," came Thomas's voice beside her.
"I'm glad you did," she said. "Breathtaking."
"I appreciate that."
She turned to him. "I hope I didn't make things too weird last night. Acting like a crazy person."
He shook his head and smiled. "Not at all. And you weren't. I had a nice time."
He was so sweet. And so pretty. She wanted to drop her wine and throw herself on him.
"Me too."
He actually stayed after they closed and helped clean up—not many artists had done that. And as she watched him tying up some garbage bags, she realized something hilarious: she was actually falling for Thomas.
That night, lying in bed, she admitted to herself what she'd been feeling since the previous night: as long as there was some small fraction of Neo left in him, she'd never give up.
They dated in weeks that followed, getting to know each other as Carrie and Thomas. She was fascinated to learn about his past, since she'd known so little of Neo's life before he was freed. Thomas smiled more than Neo did, and she found herself smiling with him, even as she ached for him to know her. Sometimes when he kissed her, she wanted to collapse into his arms and sob.
She'd catch herself fantasizing about him remembering—how he'd finally look at her and really see her, and they would hold each other again. She tried to push it away when she was with him, but then he'd look at her and smile and she'd have to look away. Sometimes it was too much.
Then one day, they were having gelato on the pier after spending the weekend apart. The ice cream dripped in the warm sun, and in the distance, a string quartet was playing.
"I feel a little pathetic admitting this, but I missed you this weekend," he said after they'd been eating in silence.
She smiled at him. He had pink ice cream on his mouth.
"Don't feel pathetic," she said softly, leaning in to kiss him.
As she tasted the strawberry on his tongue, it hit her that she was genuinely enjoying being with him without constantly torturing herself by wondering when he'd remember. As much as she dearly missed Neo, she was having fun with Thomas. The thought was both comforting and terrifying.
They made love for the first time that night. It had occurred to her that it might take sex for him to remember, but she tried to clear her head and not get her hopes too high. Lying with him, though, brought a rush of emotions she hadn't fully anticipated or prepared for. To feel his breath on her skin, to feel him moving in her, every trace of Carrie vanished and she was Trinity lying with Neo, and when she closed her eyes and gasped, a tear dripped toward her ear.
"It's so real," she breathed, without really meaning to say so.
He didn't seem fazed, running a hand over her hair and kissing her again. "It is."
When she was silent for a while afterward, he was suddenly concerned that she regretted sleeping with him, so she took his hand in hers. "Not for one second."
But she wept again the next time she was alone, tears pouring from her eyes in an unceasing river. Her chest ached. She covered the floor next to her couch in tissues. Come back to me.