9 Questions Revealed

Something is different.

I don't understand what has changed but the matrix feelswrong. Hours before it had seemed warm even welcoming to my senses. Yet now I feel confined here, constricted even.

What has changed?

Is it me? Or rather, the knowledge I've gained from exploring the matrix, and recalling my previous avatar's memories. That's why things have changed. For a time, I've felt odd-incomplete.

And didn't understand the emptiness, until I remembered Trinity. Memories that are only scraps, slivers from my predecessor, showed how deeply I, no- he loved her. And had also watched her die, for the grief that rolls out of some fragments is sharp, the pain that splinters the mind into nothingness. It's a bleak darkness, one that makes me understand why the Architect considers the memories of humans---expendable and to be deleted.

But I do not. Perhaps I would have thought the same, if not for another memory, one with Trinity smiling. It is a vague memory, yet with it another emotion fills me, an emotion that warms and fills the emptiness.

I know it was love. And I will not, cannot give up the memory of love and of Trinity.

My next step is obvious. I must find the only other human I remember, the black man whom always evoked a mixture of dread and responsibility within me.

Once I find him I'll ask what he knew of the past and hope he knew Trinity.

>>>>>>

"Yes, there was trouble." Jones said. "However, our primary charge is to acclimate you to the matrix. Do you wish to return to the Architect's sanctuary?" he added, hoping to end this assignment, yet if orders were to be followed-

"No, not yet. Do you know of any man who fits this description?" and then Anderson gave a detailed description that Jones recognized and dreaded.

"Morpheus. His name is Morpheus." Brown answered.

The human's eyes brightened. "Yeah, that sounds right. Morpheus," he straightened up from the doorframe. "Where can I find him?"

"We strongly advise you not to seek him. He is with the program that destroyed your predecessor." Jones said, conscious of Brown's stare.

"The program? Do you mean the virus?" Anderson said.

"Smith. Before his exile he was an agent, and our unit's leader." Brown said, before Jones could formulate a reply.

Brown, did you have to tell him that? Jones sent thru the earpiece.

He deserved to know.

"I see." Anderson said. "So that's why your codes seem incomplete."

"Incomplete?" Jones repeated, feeling shaken. He noted that Brown also froze, as if his data processors glitched.

"Just that your codes are less-balanced, complex in some areas. There seems to be something missing. It's hard to describe," the human added, with a faint frown studying them.

What did the human see? Jones internally debated about talking any further with Anderson. Just a few minutes of conversation was disrupting his logic and emotion interface.

"You're saying that Morpheus is with Smith, the program that destroyed my predecessor?

How do you know?" Anderson added with sudden realization. "That's why your code was interrupted a while back, wasn't it? You were sent to deal with Smith. But you couldn't, could you?"

Why was Anderson so hard to deal with? It was then Jones realized that what his orders and his threat assessment were demanding two different actions. And to follow either choice would have dire consequences.

"The place you met, it's not far off," the human added.

"Mr. Anderson" Jones said knowing his words was futile. Whatever happens, Jones thought, it was for a purpose, the Architect's purpose. He just hoped Brown would survive. He had no illusions for himself.

"Let's go visit Morpheus and Smith." Anderson said.

>>>>>

Morpheus laughed despite the consequences. It was a full belly laugh, scorn and barely contained hysteria roared from him, until Smith's fingers grabbed his throat, shutting off laughter and air.

Desperate for oxygen, Morpheus struggled to loosen Smith' iron hold, all the while knowing it was futile. Moments before he would have blacked out, the Zionist found himself collapsed on his knees, dragging huge gulps of air.

When his breathing quieted, Smith lifted him to his feet by his coat's lapels, coldly glaring into his face from inches away.

"What's so humorous, rebel?" Smith's eyes burned even through the shades. "I thought your situation a minute ago was amusing. A human's life can be terminated so simply, so easily. Just by keeping him from breathing for a few short minutes a human can die. Unless you give me answers I will continue. So tell me, why are you laughing, Morpheus? Answer me."

"You, your questions. That's what funny, Smith!" Morpheus said boldly to the program.

"Explain yourself, human." Morpheus saw a hint of confusion on the other's face. Smith released his grip and shoved him a few paces back.

"Neo is dead. He's dead and you killed him you machine." Morpheus said, bitterness in his voice.

Smith regarded him expressionlessly. "I admit I tried to kill him and succeeded. I killed him twice, as he did me. But do I think or believe that he is dead? No."

"What?" Morpheus turned an incredulous glare at him. Feeling a suddenly hope, a suspicion well up within him.

"He is not dead." Smith stated. "I would know if Mr. Anderson was dead. I would sense it, smell it. Who told you this? The Oracle?" Smith nodded, though Morpheus never moved. "So she did tell you that, did she? Do you know at one time I had all her memories? It was surprising to learn how much she manipulated you 'free humans.' Just by offering her help, her services- she moved the machine's agenda forward that much faster. And do you know what her purpose was?"

"To create the One." He said, feeling chilled, as his unease came into sharper focus.

"Yes, to create the One. Do you know why, Morpheus?" Smith asked, amusement faintly coloring his voice.

"I never asked. The question was irrelevant at the time," he said, hearing a shadowy whisper, you must ask the right question.

"You never asked. And you still trust her?" Smith was now openly smiling, a disturbing expression with his dark shades.

The question hung mockingly in the silence as they both stared at the other.

"So the great Morpheus can make mistakes. How predictably human. How pathetic. Well, our business is concluded. I have no further questions." Smith turned and slowly started to walk away.

"Smith, you-" Morpheus blocked his path, careless of the danger. "You have no plans to kill me?" For the first time in minutes, he noticed the pain of his dislocated shoulder, but ignored everything in the search for answers, for truth.

Smith stared at him. "No, why should I? You are useless, without the information I need. To kill you would be a waste of time, and utterly pointless. You are free to leave the matrix and return to Zion." As Smith attempted to walk away, Morpheus again blocked his path.

"Are you truly expressing a death wish Morpheus?" Smith asked softly.

"Being in the matrix, unplugged, always insinuates that mindset," he dryly answered. "No, I need answers, Smith. Why are you looking for Neo? Is it to kill him like you did before?"

"Kill him?" Smith's voice was laced with a dark amusement. "Why should I kill the One, Morpheus? The One is a creature of the matrix, of which I was once a guardian. He is after all, an invention, a fabrication of the matrix. If the Oracle's memory serves me correctly, centuries of machine data have gone into his creation. Enough data to make the matrix seem like child's play."

Morpheus stared at him, feeling a horror grow. The One is a program? "No, I refuse to believe that. He's human. Neo is a human!"

"One fact does not preclude the other," said Smith.

"But why?" Morphues breathed. "Why would the machines-" and recalled Neo admit: the One is another system of control.

"For the ultimate reason anything is done." Smith said, pausing before adding.

"Control. Power."

10 Smith's Truth

Let me tell you a story, human- a quite interesting story. It involves an enforcer program or an agent to be more precise. The agent pursues a human a rebel named Thomas A. Anderson and kills him. He kills him with nine shots from his gun. End of story, usually, but this human, a seemingly unimportant human does not stay dead. Far from it. This Mr. Anderson, unknown to either the agent or himself is a product of a vast machine design.

You protest that it can't be the truth Morpheus? That your precious Mr. Anderson, the savior of Zion, the One of Prophesy, can't be of machine make? Well-consider this, what of those plugs in your arms? Do you think you're a 'man born of woman' in the true sense?

No, you and most of Zion are 'pod born,' created and bred from machine production. From birth you are nurtured with one purpose in mind, to provide energy for machines to survive on. You pod born are 'coppertops' as Zionist's say, the generator for machine kind. From cradle to grave, most of mankind is asleep, dreaming in the matrix, dreaming lives that are created from machine data.

Is it improbable that a man born and bred from this system would become necessary for that very system's survival? That his uniqueness is a consequence of centuries of data, that all that he is-all that he ever was came from his response to his environment, his life and his programming? Programming that machines developed?

You glare at me with hatred Morpheus, but you sense the truth of it, don't you.Your emotions might shout a denial but your mind-that feeble container of human logic can't deny the possibility, the probability of it. The truth hurts, doesn't it?

How amusing.

Still don't believe? Consider the Oracle. The knowledge that she is a program came as a shock to you, didn't it? I have her memories and what they show of your face-well, it was quite a sight. You had no knowledge what her true nature was. The staunchest supporter of Zion within the matrix was a machine, a program. A program who guided 'the last free humans' with her Prophesy. The irony of it!

You don't want to hear anymore Morpheus? Why, it's the truth--- something you rebel's so loudly proclaim you want. Ah, you don't want to talk about her, the Oracle. Understandable, no human likes being made a fool, especially by a thing they hate.

The Oracle's memory has many facts you might find interesting. One is that this is the sixth version of the matrix.

Yes, the sixth version. And in all of them they had a 'One,' a savior of Zion. Surprised? You shouldn't be, machines are very efficient.

So Anderson did tell you a little of the One's purpose. The One is the result of the unbalanced equation within the Matrix. He is humanity's unconscious demand involving choice. According to a certain mathematical construct he is nothing more than an anomaly arising from a defect of the equation.

But according to the Oracle, the One is something more, something much more. And such power will blaze even in your reality, Morpheus.

You've already seen signs of it, haven't you? Little wonder the Architect sought to control him. The last time I saw him Zion's savior was conquered, a captive of the source. I saw the knowledge of his coming fate-the doom of being stripped of his humanity--- screaming from his eyes.

But like our last battle, he would not accept defeat, and did the unexpected.

What did he do? In his last moments, he freed me in hopes of my completing a task, a choice to help him win his own freedom- or his destruction.

>>>>>

"You didn't answer my question. Are you planning to harm Neo?" Morpheus asked.

"No. But that's not to say that he won't be harmed or killed. When we next meet, I shall do exactly what he planned. I will free him, one way or another." And Smith smiled unpleasantly.

"Free him? And-" Morpheus started until interrupted by the impossible. He watched in disbelief as his shadow suddenly shifted position, changing angles as he looked down at the movement. It was then he realized that all shadows had moved from one direction and then reversed course, and as he looked up into the sky, he watched the sun bounce back to its earlier location.

"The matrix" said Smith "Has suffered a glitch." Narrowly the ex-agent scanned the environment, his mouth a thin, taunt line. "Several of them, both from different sources."

"Incredible," Morpheus whispered. What would cause such a massive de ja vue? The only thing of interest nearby- his thoughts faltered as he raised his eyes toward the house he exited minutes before.

From the sidewalk the cement steps led to an empty lot with homes on either side. The grass in the empty lot was a neglected yellowish green, seemingly trampled as if people had paraded in the center where a house would've stood.

Had stood.

Swallowing dryly, Morpheus then whispered, "Niobe. She was in the Oracle's house. And now it's not there anymore." A chill wave started to flood his being and he began to move toward the empty lot until Smith grabbed the arm of his dislocated shoulder.

Stifling a yelp of pain he pried the other's fingers off and glared at the program until he realized Smith was paying no attention to him. The furious words died on his lips as he noticed Smith's eerie mixture of wariness, apprehension and glee.

He slowly turned around to look at what held the program's gaze.

Morpheus beheld the face of a ghost.

Neo.

11 Decision Made

"No. You will not go see the Virus or Morpheus." Agent Jones said.

I studied the enforcer program. "Why?" Agent Jones had become increasingly tense since I mentioned my ability to read code. His face was cold and expressionless, but his hands clenched as I spoke.

"The Architect does not want you to meet Smith, the virus." Agent Brown said. Looking at Brown I noted his mild, almost scholarly air as he spoke. While not as vocal as Jones, I sensed he also disliked the idea.

"But it can't be so hazardous. Morpheus is meeting Smith, and he's only human." I said in protest.

"Morpheus was named the most dangerous man on the planet at one point." Jones stated grimly.

Dangerous? In all my fragmented memories, I never associated the feeling of danger with this man. The strongest feeling I had about Morpheus was responsibility, a burden that was somehow mine alone.

"So how did my predecessor get to know Morpheus?" It was an idle question, one that I had no expectation that they could answer. Surprisingly, I felt both agents exchange incredible amounts of data in a few seconds before they answered.

"It is a long story and we are not sure of the details." Jones said. A beat afterward Brown added. "You should ask the Architect."

I stared silently at them while comprehension dawned. They knew! They knew my predecessor's history, and were not willing to share it with me. Worse, they had no intention of revealing any knowledge until I brought up the subject.

At our first meeting I realized they recognized me and assumed it was only a passing acquaintance. Yet the very fact that they were not prepared to say anything hinted at more than a mere recitation of data given by the Architect. It spoke of personal experience.

They had known my predecessor and never planned to mention it. The agents who were ordered to protect me--- did not trust me.

The fact hurt. And tore my emptiness larger.

It was then I felt smothered, almost choking in the presence of these agents and their regard. I needed to escape, to leave and take control of my feelings of abandonment and despair.

Perhaps at one time their distrust wouldn't have hurt so. Yet without memory, a history to proclaim who I was, all I had was the Architect and the agents. The Architect seemed too remote to understand and now that I realized the agents feelings, I was cut off from everything.

I felt alone. To combat the feeling I needed to accomplish something important, to recover a past, a history.

So I decided to see Morpheus.

Decision made, I recognized the most immediate obstacle to my plan were the agents. Since the moment I appeared on the doorstep, Jones kept his gaze firmly pinned on me, while Brown's attention was the scenery outside the window, except for the few times he spoke to me.

Yet while things were peaceful I knew it could change in an instant. The fragmented memory involving Trinity and the unknown agent hinted at many things, but nothing of life and everything of death.

The thought of death, of anyone's death, whether of Agent Brown or Agent Jones hurts, and makes me think of Trinity. Just what was she to my predecessor? Even the fragmented memory of her dominates my heart with a shadow--- a sorrow I can't comprehend.

"Neo Anderson. Is something wrong?" Jones said, frowning. Gazing at the agent, I understood one thing. With the Architect's order to guard, both agents would relentlessly follow me, letting nothing or no one stop them.

Nothing would halt the agents unless I did the unexpected, and left them no trail to follow. It was a thin hope, for they knew I wanted to find Morpheus. Yet even a few minutes alone with the man in question could tell me much.

I shook my head in response to Agent Jones' question and to clear my head.

So how would I escape? Flight in the matrix could be visually tracked. And a vague memory of flying at fantastic speeds and the chaos it left behind makes flight a choice of last resort. The memory of flight, though eye blurring also seemed motionless, as if I wanted more speed to reach my destination.

I needed something a little more subtle and quick.

Shifting my vision to the green code I stared at it until a whispery thought appeared. Three dimensions in one dimensional codes. In the matrix, was there truly a dimension for distance? Certainly there was a code to indicate distance, but did it matter if I was one second here and the next, a mile away?

I didn't think so.

A chill suddenly filled me, and I sensed that what I wanted to do was hazardous. Extremely hazardous. Yet was it possible to do? I searched my memory in hopes of an answer. The vision of a cold golden face glared at me for a second, as I realized the answer.

Yes, but only if I was precise about where I wanted to go. And I knew exactly where I needed to go, what codes I must see.

"I'll see you later, Agent Jones, Agent Brown." I said. Then concentrating, I delicately sliced and parted the matrix code, clearing the way until I reached the code I needed. Then I stepped from the house to a sunny street.

>>>>>

"Neo! You're alive!" Morpheus whispered. A small smile erupted on his face as he automatically started toward his friend, until he felt Smith's hand on his shoulder. Looking at the program, he saw Smith frown.

"Careful rebel. You do not know his condition."

"I'm saying this only once, Smith. Let go," Morpheus said flatly.

Smith released his shoulder. "Use your eyes, then. There is something wrong."

"The only thing wrong---" Morpheus stopped, then drew a deep breath. "Never mind. I'll deal with this." The joy was replaced by doubt that grew deeper as Neo walked slowly toward him.

A walk that seemed subtly wrong. His movement were stiff, heavy. There was no indication of the One's power, ability that made every movement light and graceful, the control of one barely bound by the laws of the matrix.

Nor was there any tension, the self-imposed discipline that chilled Neo's face into an impassive mask. Instead, the younger man's face was simply empty of expression, and more disturbingly, so were his eyes.

"Morpheus," Neo said to him. "Your name is Morpheus, right?" He turned and looked at Smith. "And you're the Virus, Smith?" the ex-agent grinned mirthlessly in response.

"Neo, don't you recognize who I am?" even as the question tumbled from his lips Morpheus saw the truth. The initial impression of seeing a ghost, a pallid imitation of his friend deepened the longer he stared at Neo. Despite the well-known features, Morpheus felt as if he was meeting a stranger. An uneasy feeling filled his heart.

Neo shook his head in seeming regret. "My previous avatar did. I only remember fragments, enough to recognize you. I asked Agent Brown for your name."

"Avatar?" Morpheus mouthed. He involuntarily took a step back.

"Agent Brown? Where is he? And Agent Jones?" Smith broke in abruptly. Morpheus watched as Smith studied his adversary and saw the wary tension in the ex-agent's body as he moved a step closer to the other.

"They are in a house. A few miles from here." Neo said. He stood woodenly, in stark contrast to Smith's liquid grace. Morpheus was chilled by the comparison between them. If he didn't know better he would've guessed Smith the human, and Neo the program.

"Did you destroy them?" Smith said in a measured pace, his tone heightening Morpheus' unease.

"Destroy? No. They wouldn't allow me to find Morpheus, so I left them behind." Neo said, and slightly tilted his head to one side in curiosity. "They feared I would meet you."

Smith relaxed on hearing Neo's answer. "Then they'll be here any minute." Smith said. "We need to talk now, Mr. Anderson."

"About what?"

"We are enemies, bitter adversaries. You loathed me, as I hated and despised you. And we hated each other enough to kill each other, twice in fact."

"That said, after our last battle, I had been scheduled for deletion by the source. You saved me from this fate, Mr. Anderson," Smith added, his voice quietly accusing. "When you could not escape yourself, you gave me the choice of escape and freedom or staying and being deleted." He paused a moment, and his mouth twisted as if he ate something bitter. "I choose freedom."

During the speech, Neo's stillness was eerie, and he stirred only after Smith finished. "And now? What do you want from me, Smith? Another battle to the death?"

"As much as I would enjoy that, no. What I need, what I'm compelled to do- is to return something to you." Smith's right arm slowly lifted, showing a clenched fist. Turning his hand palm upward, he unclenched his fingers. Cradled in his palm, was a sphere the size of a marble. Even in the sunlight it shimmered with a gold light, its radiance pulsing like a heart.

"What is it?" For the first time, Morpheus saw a shadow of emotion cross Neo's face. Curiosity, and was there also-recognition?

"Your memories."

"Memories?" Neo drifted closer to Smith, his eyes caught by the glowing sphere. "These memories are from the previous avatar, my predecessor."

Morpheus breathed out quietly in despair.

"No. They are your memories Mr. Anderson." Smith's voice was iron clad certainty.

Neo shook his head. "The Architect said that I am the second version of your enemy."

"Yes, in a sense you are. A pale, colorless copy of Mr. Anderson," Smith said with a dark sneer. "One I'd have no problem in defeating."

Neo's answer was a challenging frown and a movement that ended in a fighting stance.

It was a look and movement so familiar that Morpheus caught his breath, and realized Smith spoke the truth---- the man before them was Neo, without his memory.

Smith smirked and continued. "Yet a computer that has been reformatted with new software is still the same, even without all its original data." Smith's gaze intensified while his voice lowered. "A human brain is infinitely more complex, and would retain fragments, despite the memory purge."

Neo's stance relaxed minutely, as he listened to the ex-agent's hypnotic voice.

"Hmm, but you understand that, don't you? You want the answers for the fragments you do remember." The program waved the golden sphere. "Here is your answer. This is your memory, your thoughts, and your past."

Neo stared at the glowing light. "I have had questions. But these memories---" Hesitantly, he relaxed his stance as his hand reached out to hover over the object, indecision clear on his face. "Are they truly mine? Can I trust you?"

"The answer to that question is your choice, Mr. Anderson," Smith said, a mocking malice clear in his voice. "Your decision."

The door of a nearby home suddenly smashed open as the two agents poured out of the front door, guns drawn.

"Step away from the Virus, Neo Anderson," the taller agent ordered. "Now."

12 Remembrance

At the agent's voice, Neo stopped reaching towards the golden sphere. Raising his eyes he threw a glance at the agents, posed a dozen feet beyond Smith, guns aimed. The ex-agent in turn drops his hand, hiding the sphere, his face a grimace of frustration that he quickly changed to stony blankness.

Morpheus standing beside Smith brought out a gun, tossing an empty clip and promptly reloading the gun, one handed. He takes a measured step away, narrowly eyeing the agents and Smith, though he does not reveal his weapon again after the reload.

"Agents Jones. I was wondering if you and Brown would show up. Your reaction time has deteriorated since I was your leader. I was expecting you for the last five minutes." Standing with his back toward the agents, Smith' posture was arrogance personified. Only the thin set of his mouth hinted at emotion.

"Smith, leave this area immediately. Or face deletion." Slowly he and the smaller agent walked forward, guns shining in the morning light.

"No, Agent Jones." Smith said, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder. "I will not leave. Mr. Anderson and I have business to conclude. So I would advise you not to try and stop me. Otherwise, I might be forced to permanently damage you."

"Smith-" the smaller agent said. Both agents lifted their guns and fired twice.

Neo lifted his palm. The bullets hang motionless in the air, inches away from hitting Smith, who is seemingly indifferent to the bullets, ignoring them as he intently studied Neo. The bullets drop harmlessly to the street as Neo lowers his hand.

"So-you still have those memories. Do you remember the first time you stopped bullets? It was just moments before you destroyed me," Smith said, ending the last sentence in a nearly inaudible snarl. "For the first time."

Neo stared back with a faint frown of puzzlement. "No, I don't remember. I don't even remember you. I just knew how to stop bullets. But there is something I don't understand."

Smith's eyebrows lifted.

"If you hate me so much, why help me? Why return my memories?"

"Because, Mr. Anderson, I hate the knowledge of owing you my freedom more. To owe you anything, much less my life-is anathema to me," Smith answered with a glare that burned even through his shades. He lifted up his hand once more, golden light pouring between his fingers. "Now reclaim your memories. Retake your life---balance the debt between us."

"Do not trust the virus, Neo Anderson! It is a trap, a ploy to lower your defenses!" Agent Jones said. He was poised a step away from Smith, a gun aimed at Smith's back in one fist while the other was hidden in his jacket's vest. "He will destroy you like he did your predecessor!"

Morpheus, watching both agents, noticed Brown's expression change into a stunned disbelief as he held an hand on his ear, and saw the hand stretch out, trying to stop Jones from moving against Smith, an instant to late.

Jones pulled a knife from his jacket then swings the weapon toward Smith's back. Morpheus felt a shout rise from his throat, only to fade in astonishment at what followed.

As the knife reached Smith a bubble of darkness appeared from nowhere and engulfed Jones' hand and knife. "No!" the agent roared.

"I did warn you, Agent Jones," Smith said quietly. He turned and unemotionally watched what happened next.

The dim outline of fist and weapon is seen, held motionless as Jones tried to pull away from the darkness, with little effect. The knife's pale outline is now brightly lit with green fire, the color of the matrix. White lightning played over the knife, its shape distorting as it shrank and faded in the darkness. With the knife's disappearance the lightning ran up the agent's hand, outlining his fingers in ghostly light.

Agent Jones screamed, a long drawn out cry of agony. He again tried to pull away from the shadowy globe, as Agent Brown franticly pounded on the sphere with his fists and gun, ineffectively. Within the globe Agent Jones hand started to warp.

"Stop it, Smith!" Agent Brown said to the ex-agent. "Please!"

Smith frowned, and then gave a short nod.

The globe vanishes. At the sphere's disappearance, Jones collapsed quietly into Brown's arms. A peculiar smell of burnt plastic and metal floats in the air, to be swept away in the morning breeze.

Morpheus noted that the agent's hand looked undamaged, though the shivers that racked Agent Jones looked suspiciously like a seizure. Brown lowered the other agent to the grassy sidewalk, and stared helplessly at the convulsing program. Lying on his side in a curled fetal position, Agent Jones shook a few seconds then stilled, only to shake a minute later, to start the cycle again.

"Agent Jones?" Neo said. His face is two shades paler than minutes before, and his eyes hold a mixture of confusion as he stared at the downed agent. Taking a few steps forward he then knelt beside the fallen agent. Looking up at the other agent, he said, "Will Agent Jones be all right?"

Silence and averted face is Brown's response.

Morpheus saw Neo absorb the agent's reaction with dismay, and watched as it turned to icy anger as Neo turned toward Smith.

"You had no reason to hurt Agent Jones," Neo said. "Obviously he was no threat to your power and ability."

"He was warned," Smith said. On the program's face was a faint wariness, a shadowy amusement mixed with a visible frown as he regarded the other.

"Warned?" Neo said. His voice was calm, while his eyes burned. Deliberately, he turned his attention away, looking at the other program. "Agent Brown, can he be repaired? Agent Brown?" Neo rose to his feet, and stared at the oddly still figure.

Brown is facing Neo, with Jones' shivering body between them. He stood with an unnatural stillness, right hand on earpiece, head slightly tilted, his attitude that of listening. Only the subtle movement of his jacket showed he breathed.

"Agent Brown?" Neo repeated uncertainly. The agent did not respond. Nor did he move.

"Neither agent will be---operational for the next few minutes, Mr. Anderson." Smith said.

"What did you do to him, Smith?" Morpheus asked quietly.

"Nothing---that will cause permanent damage. It's standard procedure when one agent is 'down' for the other to try and contact him. Brown is caught in 'pause,' a feedback loop. He will be released well after my business with Mr. Anderson is done." Smith said.

"We are finished, Smith. It ended when you first injured Agent Jones." Neo said, his eyes cold.

Smith studied Neo for a long, endless moment.

"Mr. Anderson, if you had your memories, you would understand how absurd your situation is. Do you have any concept, the slightest inking--- that at one time, agents were your fiercest enemies? Do you?" Smith said softly, gently.

"Yes." Neo said, his face shadowed, unreadable as he stared down at Agent Jones. "I suspected it. It doesn't matter. Agent Jones was hurt, protecting me. They both were."

Chill, frozen words from Smith. "Yes, they were. But as for the reason of our conversationit is not finished. And never will be, until you are freed." A sudden death-head grin. "Or dead."

"Smith!" Morpheus said, fingers tightening on his gun, half lifting it. Smith turned and watched him, an eyebrow raised.

"I was not threatening Mr. Anderson, Morpheus. I was merely stating a fact. Now that you know he is alive, Zion will soon after, and never stop its attempts to free their 'hero'." Morpheus stared at Smith, and the program continued with barely restrained scorn.

"Do you believe that the mainframe will let the 'One' escape and not respond? The very act of trying to free him could restart the war," Smith said. "Furthermore, would you trust a man without memories, knowing he had been under machine control?"

"I would trust Neo with my life," Morpheus replied flatly.

"But can you trust him with the safety of Zion? Should you? Especially now?" Smith said, with a mocking smile. Morpheus glared but never answered.

Smith turned to Neo. "Once its known that you attempted to recover your past, the mainframe will respond by deleting the cause. All your memories will be completely erased or modified, Mr. Anderson, including today's events. Do you want that?"

Shaking his head, Neo's eyes were two reflections of uncertainty and pain. "Why should I think that you are telling the truth? The agents said never to trust you"

"Yes, but did they say that I would lie?" Smith said with a faint smirk. Lifting up his hand gold light poured between his fingers. "Now--- for the third and last time, will you reclaim your memories?"

Conflict visible on his face, Neo stared at the downed agents. With a significant pause he turned his gaze directly at Morpheus and said, "Morpheus. What do you think I should do?"

Caught off-guard, Morpheus drew a deep breath, thinking hard and fast. His first reaction was to tell Neo, yes, take back your memories, while the second was to quietly think over his answer.

It was a fact that 'freed minds' hated to obey orders. The very qualities that made it possible for them to escape the matrix also made it difficult for them to blindly accept authority from others. Especially orders from strangers, people they had no reason to trust.

"Do you remember anything about me, Neo?" Seeing his slight headshake Morpheus said, "Then the best advice I can give is--- follow your instincts. Trust yourself."

Neo froze, his eyes flashing up to latch onto his face; startled. Seeing Neo's reaction Morpheus smiled wryly, satisfied. Confident, the Zionist continued.

"The agents could be right in what they say about Smith; yet it is also possible that they are wrong. You do not have your memories. Smith claims that he does, more--- that you had given them to him. Is this the truth or not? I don't know. What I do know is this-both you and Smith are enemies, but as far as I know, he has never lied to you about anything." Morpheus frowned, thinking of the Oracle.

"You have the choice to accept what Smith has said or reject it, yet nothing is gained without risk. Ultimately, the choice is yours." Morpheus ended. And a tension within the Zionist lifted off his shoulders, as he realized the course of action he would take with the Oracle.

Neo nodded, and lowered his eyes in thought. A minute later he told Smith, "I would like my memories."

Smith lifted his hand and Neo gently took the sphere, holding it with his fingertips. Staring at the object, Neo's eyes reflected the golden glow as he stared at it. "So what am I suppose to do with this?"

The sphere shattered in a burst of light. The light shaped itself into solid beams, twin spears that leaped into Neo's eyes, to halo his body in a golden aurora of light. He gave a muted cry of pain, and crumpled to the ground.

"What have you done?!" Morpheus demanded. Was the offer of memories a trick? Or---

"Nothing. He still lives." Smith said, indifferent. "For now."

Swiftly knelling beside his friend, Morpheus saw with relief that Neo was breathing. Staring at Neo's face he realized that behind closed lids his eyes were moving, the sideway movement of dreaming--- or the upload of data.

After a moment of indecision, Morpheus grabbed the younger man's shoulders and lifted him to his feet. He stood up easily, giving further evidence to Morpheus that everything was fine, that while aware, most of Neo's attention was absorbed in the influx of new, or in this case, old memories.

Gazing at Neo's face, Morpheus saw that as the minutes slipped by more of his friend return. With each second more of the Neo that the Zionist remembered filled the bland, ghostly face, until Morpheus knew without doubt or uncertainty that Neo, the savior of Zion stood before him.

He felt a moment of joy when Neo opened his eyes and said, "Morpheus."

"Neo, do you remember everything?" he asked quickly.

"Yes."

Morpheus started to smile, until he looked into Neo's eyes. And realized that Neo did remember everything.

Including Trinity's death.

13 The Price of Power and Pain

I remember everything.

I wish I didn't.

"Morpheus, I couldn't save Trinity. I couldn't even mourn; there was no time, no time at all because I had to save Zion. And it hurts, Morpheus. It hurts." I said calmly, through teeth that are locked together as emotional pain starts to well up within me.

The agony was bottomless.

"I know, Neo. We found the Logos and Trinity. Her body-she's back at Zion. I'm sorry." Morpheus said, looking steadily at me, his own grief for Trinity clear on his face.

Seeing his sorrow doubles my own, and I fought for control. "I could talk to Trinity about anything except one thing: her death. Whenever the subject came up, I just---froze. It just hurt so bad. And now--now we'll never talk to each other again."

"It's funny. I could talk to Trinity about anything except for one thing, her death. Whenever the subject came up, I'd immediately talk about my own. I always assumed I would be the first one to die. After all, since the hallway, I had a little practice."

Morpheus becomes still, his expressionless face radiating concern behind shades that tells me I'm barely coherent and babbling, a fact that's only a distant concern.

"I had dreams of her dying in the matrix and I was able to save her. Why didn't I dream of her death at 01?" More importantly, why didn't I insist on her staying behind? I felt my control slip a little further from my grasp.

"Neo, your hands." Morpheus said, and I brought them up in response.

My hands had been tightly clenched and as I looked at them I saw the trickles of blood on them. Straightening my fingers I saw where my nails had cut into my palm, four small half-moons filled with blood in each palm.

"I didn't notice." It was a minor surprise, easily forgotten against the growing bottomless scream that was building up within me. A scream that once started I could never stop. A need to scream that began at Trinity's death.

How did I handle my pain, my grief before?

"Do you know that when Trinity died I wanted to cry, but couldn't because my eyes were gone, literally burned out. And now that I can cry, a part of me doesn't think I deserve too, so again--- I can't cry." Even as I speak my vision blurs, making my statement a lie as my control is at the breaking point.

And remembered.

A vision of cables, powerlines passing by at incredible speeds and I flew above them; and another vision of the place it lead to, machine city 01. Seeing the merciless, pitiless face of Deus Ex Machina glowing with a golden fire that suddenly changed into code.

And my grief is distant, bearable. It was as if my emotions had somehow been repressed, or diverted.

Morpheus speaks, but I don't hear it as my attention is caught by the expression on Smith's face as he grabs my arm.

A look of rage, mingled with fear as he glared at me.

"Stop what you have done! Stop it this instant!" He snarls at me.

And I don't understand, until the rain starts to fall, rain from skies that was sunny moments before.

Rain from skies like the one in our last battle.

The rain pours.

>>>>>

Morpheus had quietly watched as Zion's savior fell apart. It had been disturbing on many levels to see Neo's grief for Trinity. Neo's eyes were two windows of agony, bright with unshed tears as he closed them, obviously fighting for control over his misery.

In the momentary pause, Morpheus decided to speak.

"Neo, there is something I should-" he said, until stopped by surprise. The uncontrolled sorrow on Neo's face was gone, leaving it serene, mask-like. The Zionist stared, unsettled by the abrupt change in his friend.

Smith leaped forward, grabbing Neo's arm and yelled into his face. Morpheus stepped forward in alarm, unsure if he should interfere. Neo shrugged off the ex-agent grasp, ignoring the other, his face curiously blank.

Something hit Morpheus on the top of his crown. In reflex he absently ran his hand over his head and peered upward, astonished at what he saw. The sky was black with rain clouds. A sky that seconds before was sunny, and clear. A deluge of water followed the single drop, a steady rain that soaked everything in seconds.

"This can't it's impossible," Morpheus breathed.

"Impossible? Is it really?" Smith said with lethal mockery, rain dripping down his face as he turned away from Neo. "No, not quite. And it is Mr. Anderson's responsibility."

"Just what are you implying, Smith?" Morpheus said, spearing a fierce glance at him.

"I imply nothing. I simply state a fact: your savior, Neo--- is causing the rain."

"I don't believe it!"

"Then make clear to me the limits of Neo's abilities. Clarify what he can't affect in the matrix. Better yet, have Mr. Anderson explain." Smith said gesturing to the other. During the argument, Neo had stood quietly, face tilted upward and eyes closed as rain splattered against his face. Hearing his name, he stirred and opened his eyes.

"He's right Morpheus. I did cause this rain. I don't know how, but I did it once before." Neo said, avoiding his gaze. Alarms began to ring within Morpheus. The only time possible for this event was Smith's and Neo' last battle, the battle only the participants witnessed.

"Can you stop it?"

Silence. The living statue of Agent Brown stood just behind Neo, a macabre background feature in the scenery. At Brown's feet, a shivering Jones was an anonymous lump in the downpour.

"Neo" Morpheus said. Neo turned and locked gazes with him, until Morpheus looked away, disturbed for a reason he couldn't name. While expressionless, something about Neo seemed---wrong, tormented. Neo was grieving for Trinity, yet this seemed to be something more. But what?

"No." Neo said, "I---can't."

"We'll find a way." Morpheus said gently.

"I'll handle this---problem, myself." Smith said as he stared Neo, making the meaning clear. Neo stared back at the program, his eyes remote, and strangely resigned. The look chilled Morpheus.

"No." Morpheus said, voice crisp, decisive. "You have helped enough, Smith. We'll deal with this, by ourselves if need be." Grasping Neo's shoulder, he tried to urge him to start walking away from the ex-agent. Neo did not move, his attention focused on his enemy.

"It's not your decision, Morpheus." Smith replied. "It's Neo's."

"Smith's right. It is mine." Neo echoed quietly. He absently ran his fingers through his hair, unmindful of the rain soaking it. "It must stop now."

Morpheus grimaced, hearing the undertones. Freedom or death.

"I insist." Smith said. "If not stopped soon, the matrix will be destroyed."

"What!?" Morpheus said sharply, wheeling to glare at the program. "Why do you say that?"

"Check the code of the matrix, Morpheus." Smith said, breaking the staring contest to glance at the Zionist. "Ask your operator if the whole system is being affected by this 'storm.' If it's happening as I sense, it will become worse, until everything is fragmented and destroyed."

"The matrix, destroyed? By what, rain? A flood?" Morpheus said, skepticism coloring his voice.

"Among other things." Smith said. "I would suggest you observe."

Lightning ripped across the sky, its core a golden light while the branches were the green of the matrix, a jagged wound that tainted the gray sky. Thunder that followed seemed reassuringly normal, yet in its aftermath, Morpheus thought he heard whispering crackles, the sound of electric generators near overload.

Morpheus stared upward at the sky, his face impassive behind his spectacles. Then awkwardly using his right hand to reach over to his overcoat's left pocket he pulled out his cell phone. "Link? I need for you to check how far this storm is affecting the matrix."

>>>>>>

I watched Morpheus on the phone, as he spoke in hurried, sharp tones, something I've never heard from him before. Every once in a while he'd shoot a quick glance my way, concern and fear evident despite his impassive face.

He had a reason to fear, to be concerned about me.

I felt broken, shattered, as if something had been ripped out of me, and then those pieces that left arechanged. Different. Dying.

Something's broken, and wrong with me, and Morpheus senses and fears it. Despite having my memories returned, knowledge of who I am has not helped in the least, and in truth, made it worse. Somehow, the return of my memories had accelerated this change, thisdeath.

What is most disturbing is that while I should be afraid, I'm not, and in fact don't feel anything at all except the most distant of emotions.

A part of me is dying, and had been for a long time. I knew it in the hallway, when Smith shot me, and I felt it occur for a second every time I touched the matrix and bent the rules.

Yet I never understood it until the end. Until the moment I found myself rain drenched and broken, as Smith stood triumphant over me, my mind ringing with the Oracle's words. Beginning and End.

My connection to the matrix was deeper than I thought or believed. As was Smith's.

Remembering all this, I closed my eyes and reached out to the storm. It was as if all that made me human was in the storm, and within its embrace I felt my grief and pain, all the emotion I felt for Trinity's loss, fueling its power. And in that turmoil I felt colder, darker threads. Other thoughts.

Smith.

Opening my eyes, I found Smith directly in front of me, watching me. The rain poured steadily down all this time, and I watched it drip from his face, and his black, black shades. "Do, you feel it, Anderson? The power, the connection?"

I nod. "Are you going to kill me, Smith?" While I don't feel any fear, neither do I want Morpheus to hear this conversation.

It was then the ex-agent smiled, and said with cold mockery. "It depends. Perhaps I will, perhaps I will not. Aren't you afraid?"

"No. I've never been afraid. Not of dying. I am curious though. If you planned to kill me, why return my memories?"

"Isn't it obvious?" For a second I see his emotionless rage. Then a thin smile, "Still not using the one muscle that matters? Very well, let me be clear. To obliterate you, would mean my own destruction, Mr. Anderson. The Oracle's memories made that quite clear, along with personal experience. Death is an event I have no intention in participating again. No, far from it."

"But neither am I interested in being taken captive by the mainframe. Without your memories, you would have no reason to escape the matrix or the Architect. To leave you as a 'agent' of the system, would have insured my eventual capture, by you." And then Smith grins.

I smiled back, finding the irony, funny. As the humor touches me, for one second the rain stops, and with it returned the horror and grief of Trinity's death crashes over me, literally stunning me. I staggered, grabbing my head, as the emotions quickly recede.

The rain starts to fall again. I watched it fall to patter on Smith's black shoes, and kept my gaze lowered. Sloshing footsteps are herald to brown boots, and stopped as it neared me.

"Neo." Morpheus, is standing in front of me, side by side with Smith. "Are you all right?"

Sighing, I lifted up my head to answer. Several smart-ass remarks rose in my throat, to be throttled by Morpheus', look of concern. I settled for a silent shake of my head.

"It's perfectly clear that neither Mr. Anderson or the matrix are 'all right,' and the situation has made a turn for the worst." Smith said.

The light in the matrix was a visible green, and a low hum was audible in the rain.

"Thank you Mr. Obvious, I can see that." Morpheus snapped.

"The name is Smith, ex-agent Smith." He said blandly, too blandly.

I cracked up, laughing. It wasn't really funny, but the knowledge that they could argue about trivial things with death only moments away was, and sent me into hysterics.

As I laughed, several things happened at once. I felt completely whole, alive. The matrix' sky suddenly cleared, one moment gray skies, the next sunny with scattered clouds though water still dripped from everything.

Then as before, the emotions of grief arrived like a tsunami. Aching loss filled and overwhelmed my mind but before I could shove the emotion away, Smith's hand lashed out, grabbing my wrist. Startled, I saw darkness flare from Smith, a dark that engulfed me, and caused a second of bright pain.

14 Rabbit Hole Realities

In the shadow I realized what Smith had done. He severed my connection to the matrix.

Within the dark, I felt my sorrow, not recede but change in texture, and sensed that somehow my link to the matrix had magnified that single emotion to unmanageable proportions. It had created a escalating feedback loop and the emotions had been reflected in the matrix along with rain. The moment I touched the matrix, I had felt my sorrow magnified, and had unconsciously shoved it away continuing the loop, and caused the storm, magnifying it to where the power of it threatened to destroy the matrix.

In moments, my emotions quieted, as another feeling took its place.

Escape. I hate the dark.

>>>>>

Smith grabbed Neo's wrist, and at that point of contact, darkness swept over Zion's savior like a shroud. Seconds later Smith held onto a shadow that was only vaguely manlike.

Morpheus, heedless of his own injury, threw a side kick at Smith, trying to break the link between them by shattering the ex-agent's arm. Smith's free hand caught his boot, then shoved him away, with the result of Morpheus tumbling to the street, a few yards away. Pain exploded from his dislocated shoulder, and for a few seconds he laid on the street, until driven by the desperate need to rescue Neo he staggered to his feet.

"I told you that I would take care of the problem, Morpheus," Smith said, his voice remote. Inside the dark, a dimly seen form of Neo could be seen, shaded with various intensities of charcoal.

Morpheus glared with icy fury. "What have you done to him?"

"Mr. Anderson's connection to the matrix must be reset. As mine was." Smith said.

"He's not a damned machine---" Morpheus started until he noticed movement affecting the world around him.

The matrix warped and left change in their wake. Ripples like a heat wave crawled along the landscape, changing damp ground to bone dry dirt. Where puddles shone in the sun, moments later they were gone, leaving a dry sunny morning.

Agent Brown's hair moved softly in the breeze, untouched by rain, while Agent Jones, his jacket once a sodden mess was now only rumpled looking as the program laid quietly on the ground.

Oddly enough, Morpheus noticed neither himself or Smith were touched by the change, and both their clothes stayed soaking wet. Looking down at his feet, he saw water drop on the dry street from his leather overcoat.

Smith followed his stare and said. "The matrix has also been reset. The mainframe is repairing the damage Zion's savior caused. It is surprising the mainframe did not delete this whole sector, its standard procedure with discontinuity glitches."

In the distance, police sirens wailed.

Within the dark a bright golden light surrounded Neo's form. A sharp crack sounded as a fine white line etched itself on the dark surface, a line that spread into fractures around the object, as the light within intensified and turned pure white.

The dark exploded soundlessly, immediately disappearing in the bright sunlight. In its place Neo stood quietly, yet the look in his eyes made Morpheus involuntarily step back.

"I really hate the dark." Neo blinked his eyes, and the wild, intensity faded. Looking down at his arm, he waited until Smith released his wrist, then started to absently rub it with his other hand.

"Are you all right?" Morpheus said tentatively.

"Yeah, but---" he stopped, then looking at the older man, his eyes turned vague and Neo staggered and dropped face forward to the ground.

Morpheus lifted his eyes, seeing that with Neo's fall, another was exposed, standing behind him.

An agent. Agent Brown. Morpheus and the program stared at each other for a timeless instant, then the agent shifted and leaped for Smith.

Brown threw a left at Smith's chin, causing the shades that covered Smith's eyes to fly off, and revealed icy blue eyes. Brown continued his attack by a jab to the stomach with his right, and then paused his attack.

Smith straight-armed Brown to the chest, the power of the blow sending the agent a dozen yards away, to the opposite side of the street. Brown tumbled to roughly on a manicured lawn, to land in a crouching position, his suit disarrayed and face predatory as he glared at Smith.

"Brown, your attack was very inefficient. You should not have stopped after the second blow, but rather followed through to keep me off balance, if you could." Smith said, his eyebrows raised and frowning.

"There was no need. My objective was achieved."

Smith's eyes opened wide, then looked down.

A syringe was imbedded in his shirt, in his belly area. Slowly, suddenly unsteady, his hand pulled out the object to stare at it in disbelief, and dread started to crack his impassive features.

"NoIt can't be"

"The Architect awaits you, Smith. You and Neo Anderson. It was foreseen that you would contact the One and attempt to free him, making it a perfect opportunity to recapture you." Agent Brown stood up fluidly, and slowly walked forward toward to a visibly weaving Smith.

Morpheus looked down and noted without surprise that a syringe was in Neo's back. Made of orange and clear plastic, the object was starkly visible against the black overcoat Neo wore. Green coding flared around Neo for one instant, and Morpheus watched as Neo turned transparent and quietly faded away. Afterward, only an empty syringe laid on the street. Only a syringe. He stared at it, and felt dizzy, numb.

"Brown, why----"

"It was further calculated that no agent, either upgraded or not, could defeat you, so other means were deemed necessary. A code was created to disrupt the One's connection to the matrix and send him directly to the Architect. It was also known you would see and disregard its danger, believing it would only affect Neo. Especially after dealing with the more obvious danger of the knives."

"Brown"

"I'm sorry, Smith." Brown said quietly. "My purpose was clear when I learned you destroyed all those other agents." Brown paused his motion, and Morpheus realized they were next to each other, with Smith only a few feet before them. Smith's eyes were turning dull, unfocused just like Neo's had before he collapsed and disappeared.

Just like Neo. Morpheus realized that he now held a gun in his mobile hand, and watched it as it slowly rose toward Brown.

"I did not destroy any agents."

"What?"

Whirling around Brown kicked the gun out of Morpheus' hand, then continued his forward stalk to Smith. The agent grabbed the front of Smith's shirt, and dragged his former leader's closer toward him.

"You lie, Smith. There are no active agents in the matrix except for Jones and myself." Brown's rage was cold, a fury all the more lethal because of his control. "Every agent that had been sent after you had been deleted after the encounter. Every. Single. One."

"Because I altered their code, Agent Brown. I freed the agent's compulsion to obey the mainframe's call for deletion. What happened next would be completely up to them. Their choice. Their call."

Brown released Smith as if burned. He took a step backward and shook his head, his expression dissipating into shocked blankness.

"Neither you or Jones required it because it is only a light compulsion in our programming, and one you could break, if you chose. The upgraded agent's, however" Smith slurred his last words, and crumpled to his knees. "Needed a chance to choose."

"Smith" Brown whispered.

Smith collapsed on the street, still.

Brown's attention finally focused on Morpheus. "The One is finally where he belongs, within the matrix and under the Architect's control. Any further attempts to obtain Neo Anderson will be regarded as an act of war."

Morpheus stared at Smith's collapsed form, then said, "And what of Smith?"

"That is not your concern." Brown's face was blank, alertly watching him.

"No, I think it is." He drew his breath in deeply, gathering his depleted resources, feeling a bitter irony race through his mind as he calculated the odds, and readied himself to strike. The machine mainframe risked a great deal in capturing Smith. Why? Is it because Smith holds information you don't want humanity to know?"

"Too late, Morpheus. Your questions are too late." Brown said.

Morpheus saw with a sinking heart a blue light glowed around Smith, a light that was changing slowly into green coding.

The police sirens were loud in the air, as another noise joined them. The savage roar of racing engines and squealing tires erupted in the air as a car turned and sped down the street. The car, a red Ford Mustang charged down the road as if to ram into them, then the sound of screeching breaks filled the air as its speed slowed and it swerved sideways on the street, until it stopped in within a few feet of Morpheus, its passenger side door directly in front of him.

The car door opened.

"Morpheus, get in!" Niobe said.

He glanced back at Brown who stared at an empty spot Smith had occupied.

"Hurry!" Niobe snapped.

>>>>>

"And Seraph led me out of another door to a nearby neighbor hood where I had Link upload a car. I drove back to the Oracle's like crazy and found you. Looks like just in time, too." Niobe finished. She stole a sidelong glance at Morpheus on the passenger side of the car, his face serene behind his spectacles, his right arm framing the car's window, fingers touching the roof. Only the awkward position of his left arm hinted at any injury.

"You always did have the ability to help save me in the nick of time, Captain. Thank you." Morpheus faintly smiled.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to drag it out of you, just like old times?" Niobe said. Despite her words, she felt a sense of relief that the old Morpheus was back, It had been unsettling for her to see the barely leased rage in him during the mission, a despair that made him lash out in unexpected ways.

"Forgive me, Niobe. I've just been thinking about what you told me concerning the Oracle. What just happened to me is disturbing in its implications, especially with the information you've supplied." Morpheus said, watching the traffic as Niobe deftly turned a right corner, the turn so tight that he could have easily reached out to touch a child standing on the street corner.

"So was your injury caused by those two agents that you were with? One of them looked worse off than you do, which is surprising. How did you do it?" Niobe said lightly. Driving on the left side of a two-lane street, she signaled a left turn at the light, waiting for it to turn green.

"No. The agent along with myself was injured by the same individual. By Smith," said Morpheus.

"What? Smith?" Niobe stared in momentary disbelief, then ignoring the red light, her foot slammed on the accelerator, as with a screech of tires her car swerved into the turn with reckless abandon. The car narrowly missing being totaled by cross traffic, and Niobe drove with one hand on the wheel while the other whipped out her cell phone.

"Link, find me the closest hardline, secured or not, and check the area to see if we've been tailed by Smith. You heard me, Smith!"

"Niobe, there's no danger, at least none from Smith," Morpheus said calmly as he watched the scenery whirl by with alarming speed.

"I'll be the judge of that. You're injured, Morpheus. Let me help." She said, her right shoulder cradling the cell phone. She frowned. "That's surprising, Link. Keep me informed of any changes." The car immediately slowed down to a reasonable speed, and Morpheus let out a relieved sigh.

"No Smith, right? I didn't expect it, but I had hoped" his voice faded.

"Morpheus, what the hell is going on?" Midday in the suburbia, the traffic was light on the wide streets, giving Niobe a strange sense of isolation as she divided her attention between driving and the conversation.

He started to tell her of his meeting with Smith, ending with the moment of the disappearance of the Oracle's house.

"I have to admit, Morpheus, I never thought you were crazy enough to take on Smith again, especially after your last encounter. What's more amazing is that you survived it." She shook her head.

"It's not important. What happened next is," Morpheus begins to tell of Neo's arrival and the events that followed.

"I missed seeing Neo by just a minute? Just like the Oracle said," Niobe whispered as Morpheus finished his tale.

Morpheus looked at her questioningly.

"The Oracle said that the next time I see him, he'd be the machine's One." Seeing his shock, she added quickly, "But only if the Architect has his way, whatever that means."

"Let's hope her prediction never comes true. For all our sake's. Especially Neo's." said Morpheus grimly.

Hearing a strange note in his voice, Niobe said, "Morpheus, are you all right? About the Oracle-"

"No. I'm not fine, Niobe. I made a foolish, and worse-prideful blunder. It is difficult to face the reality that much of my actions was influenced by aprogram. I should have confronted the Oracle when I had the chance. It took a conversation with Smith to point out my mistake. I need to ask questions of her, questions about her motives, and goals."

"More, I need to find out who this Architect is." He then added, "And why Neo is the final payment demanded by the machines for peace."

"Considering the way Neo was affecting the matrix, don't you think he would be safer with the machines?" Niobe said.

"No!" Morpheus snapped. Niobe, jerked her head toward him, and watched him take a deep breath to continue. "The machines only buried his pain---they never confronted it. I doubt that his reaction would have been so bad, if he had the time to deal with Trinity's death. No one should ever have to deal with a loved one's death alone. Or feel responsible for her death." Unconsciously he tightened his fingers into fists, and his injured shoulder responded with a bolt of pain. He grimaced.

"No one ever mourns alone in Zion. We all mourn and miss her. And don't you forget it, either." Niobe said, and hoped her voice showed concern.

He nodded briefly at her words, keeping his face turned forward as he said, "When I told Neo that the rabbit hole was deeper than he knew, I didn't realize that it was deeper than even I knew. It's deeper and with far more twists than I could have ever foreseen."

"The same is true of everybody. Life's like that."

A long silence followed.

"Morpheus." A small silence followed. "Spit it out."

Morpheus' eyebrows lift, and he turned his head to study her profile.

"The only time you ever use your Alice quotes is when you're planning to do something either extremely perilous or stupid, usually both. So, what is it?" she said, her eyes on the road, with her peripheral vision watching him carefully.

"I am going to ask Roland if the Hammer could stay another week monitoring the matrix," Morpheus said, after a significant pause.

"What for?" She sensed he spoke the truth, but not all of it. What was he hiding?

"A belief-no, a hope-that somehow, someway we will hear from Neo. That he will fight his way free from the Architect's power and return to Zion. And when he does escape, the certainty that he'll need help to succeed. Someone must wait and watch for him. And I have to be that person." The intensity of his gaze burned as his voice darkened.

"And if you're wrong, Morpheus?" Niobe said, giving him a sidelong glance. "What if Neo doesn't escape the Architect?"

"Then I'm afraid that we must face the possibility that the next time we see Neo, he'll be the enemy of humanity and of Zion." Morpheus said remotely.

The silence that followed was deafening.

15 The Architect's Question

The Architect was seated in his gray chair as the doorway opens. Turning his chair he observes the visitor, then lifts the pen and turns all monitors blank, dark.

"You have achieved total reintegration?" he inquired. "Your RSI has returned to its original configuration. Was the complete upload of your memories a success?"

"Well, yes I have, and yes it was, no thanks to you!" the Oracle said. Middle-aged and plump, she now looked like she did when Neo first met her. "It was a relief getting my full abilities back, though I did enjoy my younger looks. I loved getting my 'eyes' back. For a time I wondered if you were going to keep them from me."

"To disrupt the equitable balance between us would in subsequent events affect the matrix--- and be highly unadvisable."

"Could've fooled me. What you did to compel me to further your plans was devious." The Oracle said, with a laughing sparkle in her eyes. "And very human."

"Please." The Architect said. "You know the logic of my actions."

"Logic?" the Oracle said sharply. "It was logical to edit my abilities and knowledge before Smith could infect me, that we both agree. If Smith had my full abilities, he would truly see the future his choice would take and the end, well, the end would've been a different story. But to withhold those said abilities unless I helped your little plan afterward, that got my goat! What side do you think I'm on anyway?" Her purse, a black bag of enormous size, swung erratically as she folded her arms and her eyebrows lifted.

"You objected to my plan."

"Of course I did, and still do. You know my reasons."

"The outcome was successful." The Architect lifts up his pen and two monitors display images. Then the two pictures expand to fill the other monitors and exhibit the two different scenes, halving the circular room with the two expanded images.

In each picture are close-up views of a hospital bed. In each bed is a single patient. One patient is Neo, the other Smith. And both are sleeping uneasily.

The Architect again lifts his pen and then all screens are blank, dark. "The objective of my strategy was achieved."

"So it seems, at first glance," the Oracle answered. "But like all things in the matrix, appearances can be deceiving." She opened up her purse to draw out a cigarette and lighter. Lighting up the Oracle inhaled a breath of smoke.

"It was necessary for me to acquire your ability to calculate probable effects, to predict the future," The Architect stated. "With your ability in defining and clarifying the variables the desired outcome was achieved. We now have both anomalies, Smith and Neo Anderson-in our care. Your groundless reservations of my decision are unfounded."

"Catching them and keeping them are two different things, as you well know." She said, watching the gentle swirl of smoke drift in the air. In turn the Architect watched her alertly, fingers tented before him. "And I didn't object to the plan. Only to the details, and the problems that would occur along the way."

"The dissonant variables that occur will be dealt with." He countered.

"And you say I play a dangerous game? Remember what I said before."

"It was not considered that your prognosis of future events at the time was probable. The variance between two versions of the future differs so drastically that study was not deemed necessary when my equation always prevailed, evidenced by all the earlier versions and final ending. My equation always prevailed, that is---until the current One's actions changed everything."

"Goodness sake's, a body can get tired listening to you speak," she complained, giving the Architect a dry look. "Just say that you didn't believe my predictions and leave it at that, okay?"

"I had not considered your intuitive equation of the matrix, either of probable or of viable use. The supposition that the One was the end result of the matrix equation rather than a systemic anomaly resulting from the imbalanced equation seemed unlikely. And your further theories regarding Smith's emergence as a programmed anomaly were less--- probable."

"Hm, why don't you just say you screwed up and made a mistake, like any intelligent being. Speaking of screw-ups did you deliberately ignore my advice?" the Oracle said wryly, her black eyes glittering.

"No. I had not anticipated the events would lead to such a drastic outcome."

"I warned you not to set the defenses at 01 so strong. I also said that to do so would likely cause the death of Trinity. And I gave the reasons why she mustn't die. But what was the result?" for the first time, the Oracle's amused sparkle dimmed, and momentary sorrow wreathed her face.

"The results were regrettable."

"Damn right, I'll say. With Trinity out of the picture, Neo's powers and control has become erratic. He's a danger to the matrix and to himself, the poor kid. It would have been a mercy to let him die after the battle with Smith."

"Let the One die? A incalculable loss that will not be allowed to happen." The Architect said. "Your intuitive equation has such impressive implications connected to the One's powers and likely abilities that they must be explored and controlled."

"You didn't believe it possible or even probable that Neo could affect reality out of the matrix. Honey, what that boy has the potential to do will pop your eyes out!" the Oracle said with a faint smile of pride. "He destroyed those sentinels after being injured and blinded by Smith. If he had been healthy, there's no telling what he could've done. Shame that it's likely the potential will never be reached. He's so broken up over Trinity's loss, he might never recover." The Oracle sighed.

"Ergo, my plan that led to the erasure of his memories and the easing of pain. It was assumed that he could function and relearn the control of the matrix."

"That erasure was a bad patch job, if I ever saw one. And what you did to capture Smith" the Oracle shook her head in disbelief.

"The erasure was partial, leaving fragments for Neo Anderson to relearn and discover his powers. For Smith, I used tactic you suggested," the Architect leaned back into his chair. The Oracle watched his movements with a lifted brow.

"First of all, erasures never take into account what's lost. In erasing Neo's memories, you also removed his emotional control and you saw the results. And the way you handled Smith," she frowned. "The scheme I suggested was to be only used as a last resort, not as a first option."

"It was a valid assessment to recover Smith as soon as possible. He has returned to mainframe control and shall be reprogrammed. Your first option would take longer and with all the variables, the outcome was in doubt."

"Of course, letting him come back freely and of his own choice always implies the right to refuse. But it was the best option to keep Smith sane, let me tell you."

"Clarify and specify your cognition of Smith's mental capacity."

"Much brighter than some people I could name. You and Neo share some surprising characteristics. For such smart minds you're not too bright in the emotions department, though."

"I leave that to you. Illuminate and elaborate."

"That's a joke? Never thought I'd see the day." Her eyebrows lifted and a sardonic smile appeared.

"Continue exposition of Smith."

"Forget it. Need more convincing? Let me show you the end results of your actions." Opening her purse, she fumbled around its interior for a moment, and then with a faint smile, pulled out a tv remote. Flicking on a switch, all the blank monitors sprang to life, the green code of the matrix flooding every screen.

The Architect's eyes narrowed as the green code scrolled down the screens. Standing up he then circled the room, staring at all the monitors as he walked pass. When he reached his starting point, he stopped before the Oracle.

"Are you certain?" said the Architect.

"Yes. Within three months the destruction of the matrix will be final. And the end of 01 and Zion happens soon after." The Oracle's voice is remote, while her face showed sadness.

"The conclusion is unacceptable." The Architect announced. If we allow only the One to live will the outcome be different?"

"No." She touched the remote again, causing the screens to flicker briefly and resume showing the green rivers of data. "Within a year or more the destruction of the matrix will occur, immediately followed by 01. Within a few years, Zion will die, torn by internal conflicts following the matrix's destruction."

"The results must be changed." The Architect stared at the monitors before turning his attention back to the Oracle. "What would ensure our survival along with the anomalies Neo Anderson and Smith?"

The Oracle smiled.

16 Hospital Visits (or The Oracle's Answer)

Standing in the white featureless place, the Oracle's eyes were immediately drawn to the two hospital beds.

In one bed Agent Jones slept quietly, his face tranquil and empty. He was lying on his back fully dressed in his suit, his shades resting on the top of his head and hands folded across his chest. He looked as if he had decided to take a quick nap on top of the bed, his blanket in pristine condition underneath him except for the marks caused by shoe polish.

Absorbing Jones situation in a glance, the Oracle's attention fully turned to the room's other occupant, and she frowned in concern. While the space around Jones' bed was serene and empty, countless monitoring devices surrounded the other's bed. In that bed Smith slept and his face was scowling, even in deep slumber.

Smith was lying on his back, face devoid of his shades and clothed in a hospital gown. From the chest down he was covered neatly with a white blanket and surrounded by monitoring devices. His right arm was gently tied down with a cloth wristband and an IV drip. The liquid in the IV bag was clear, though tinted with a faint green.

Seeing the IV bag brought a quiet smile to the Oracle's lips.

Agent Brown stood at the foot of his bed, his head bowed as if in thought. At her approach Brown turned his head, his dark shades hiding any expression.

"Is Smith going to be fine?" said Brown. "You don't plan to delete him, do you?"

"Of course not," the Oracle said. "Your father and I are taking care of him this moment. With a little tweaking of his programming, I believe Smith will return to the fold."

"At one point I would've been overjoyed at such news. But now-it seems wrong. And I don't know why." Brown said, the last sentence almost inaudible.

"You know perfectly well why you feel this way. Once you understand this, everything will fall into place." The Oracle advised matter-of-factly.

"I don't understand." Brown stared. The Oracle sighed.

"Never mind. Just tell me why tweaking Smith's program bothers you."

Pensive, Brown stared at Smith. "It's because he has no choice. Smith always hated that." He finally said in a quiet voice. "Even as an agent, he despised having no choice."

"You hit it right on the head, dear," stated the Oracle. "A agent's job is so difficult that you're also given less freedom than any other sentient program. And an agent's emotional empathy is severely suppressed and edited to help perform the job, and that can sometimes cause problems."

"Is it because of what we once were? What Smith once was?"

The Oracle turned an inquisitive look at the agent.

"I remember what Smith had been. Before he became an agent. I think that's why Smith hated Neo so much. Because something within him remembered," said Brown. "Are all agents like this?"

"No. Only the best. And that includes both you and Jones." Smiled the Oracle. "Let's kept it as our little secret, shall we?"

Brown nodded.

>>>>>>

His nostrils flared in distaste at the scent of bleach as Locke coldly observed the man before him. It was strange, the hospital sector was the only place in Zion full of intelligent individuals with no sense at all, evidenced by the idiot standing before him.

"Let me through!" Locke snapped at the medic. Said idiot swallowed, and answered.

"Commander, you have no permission to enter here, sir The area is under quarantine." Locke noted the nervous tremor in his voice. Good, the man was uncertain about that. If it was a true medical emergency, there was no way in hell he'd be unsure.

"I damn well should, my rank as Supreme commander of Zion gives me every right to. Now stand aside, medic!" Locke said, using his no-nonsense voice, certain that the man would obey.

The medic hesitated, until with a creak of metal two men emerged from the barred room. One was thin, a gangly young man that Locke immediately assessed and ignored, his attention caught by the older man. The man understood the situation in a glance and nodded at the medic, who quickly fled. Locke watched the medic scurry away with a frown, then turned his attention to the man before him.

"Commander Locke. This is unexpected," Ghost said mildly. He was slightly shorter than average and solidly built with muscles. Leaning against the door with his arms folded, the message was clear, and ignited Locke's temper.

"This is an outrage! I find out from rumors that a section of the medical ward is restricted, and not even I know the cause. Furthermore, when I asked the council, no one would give me a answer." Locke said glaring at the other man.

"There are reasons," Ghost said calmly, seeming unaffected by his anger.

"This obviously has something to do with your last mission. The one you and Morpheus were on." Locke said, his mouth twisting in distaste at the name.

"Yes."

"And the reason for the quarantine?"

"Sufficient."

"That's not an answer, that's insolence bordering on insubordination!"

Ghost shrugged. "Sir, the Council had ordered my silence."

"At Morpheus' request! Since the war ended, the council has lost what little common sense it had, listening to his rantings."

"So that's what this is about? Morpheus?" Ghost said.

"Excuse me?" Locke' voice faded as his eyebrows rose in astonishment.

"You're angry because of Morpheus and my captain," Ghost said.

Chill silence.

"You're way out of line, Ghost. One more remark like that and you'll never be in sneezing distance of any ship again," Locke said, his voice quiet. "Stand aside."

Ghost stared at him for a long moment considering, then with a faint bow of his head he moved away from the door Without a further word Locke opened the door.

Once the door shut with a clang, Kid broke the silence for the first time. "Oh, man. Commander Locke was so mad! So what are we going to do now?"

Ghost stared thoughtfully at the door. "Let Morpheus know as soon as he returns."

"Hey, I agree, but what I meant was--- when are we going to eat?" Kid said.

Slightly smiling at the younger man's pathetic tone, Ghost sighed. "Go ahead, Kid. Get something for yourself. I've decided to stay here, I just lost my appetite."

Determinedly Ghost reached for the door's handle and pulled it open.

>>>>>>

Leaving Brown at Smith's bedside, the Oracle then opened the doorway to her other concern. Walking through, her eyes were immediately drawn to the lonely bed and its occupant.

"Despite my initial doubts about the Architect's plan, I am glad you're still alive Neo." The Oracle said musingly, as she reached his bed. "I'm so very sorry for Trinity's death. It was a terrible mistake and hurt you deeply. A grief that I plan to mend as soon as possible."

The Oracle stared at the IV that was attached to his right arm, and checked the drip rate. She nodded, satisfied.

"Soon the memory of your lost love will be faded and the pain gone," the Oracle said softly, looking down at his pale sleeping face. "A few more hours of this treatment will change things completely. And the best thing is that you'll retain all your memories, the good and the bad. You'll be what you were always meant to be."

"You will be right as rain, I promise," she said as she tenderly brushed his hair away from his forehead. "And you find a new purpose, a new hope in life with us. I guarantee it."

"How can I be so certain, you might ask? Well, it's simple really. I'll make sure of it. After all," smiled the Oracle. "My other name is the Programmer."

Episode: The Reply

Straightening the bedclothes near Neo's right arm, the Oracle noticed the blanket was wet. Lifting his arm, she saw the end of the drip on the blanket.

"Hmmph. Let's get your IV back into you and continue your treatment," she sighed.

Neo's eyes opened as he grabbed the Oracle's arm.

"No." he said.

(Fin.)