Disclaimers: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…
Following on from
“Order”, “Promises” and “Chaos”…
“This is taking too long.” Raphael snapped, pacing; within the physical
construct of the Matrix again.
“Then what would you
suggest?” Smith asked, coolly. Raphael only glared, silently fuming at the
disrespectful tones. This he had not
anticipated, the Agents he had created outgrowing his control.
Raphael continued to
pace. Smith continued to watch him.
Along the corridor the measured
tread of Jones’ footsteps could be heard, making his way to the
supposed-cafeteria area. Bots scuttled
out of his way as he strode along, impassive as always. It was debatable if Jones even saw them
hurry out of his way… His optical
sensors could have been in shut down, for all it mattered.
In the deserted cafeteria, Brown sat
at one of the tables. Chin propped on
his hand, he stared at some undetermined point in the distance. Calculating probabilities within the
parameters of the specified situation didn’t require any outside interaction.
The silence was
broken by Jones’ arrival. The Combat
unit sat down opposite him.
“75% probability
that Smith will strangle Raphael within the next 24 hours.” Brown
announced. Jones looked at him.
“87% probability
that Raphael will try it first.”
Raphael’s pacing had carried him
round the room again, so that he was now standing behind Smith’s chair. He glared at the back of the Agent’s
head. All it would take would be a
little pressure, in just the right spot and maybe, just maybe he’d be able to
disrupt the signals flowing between Smith’s spinal column and his lower
cerebrum…
“Do not try
anything, Raphael.” Smith said, without turning.
Raphael sighed,
coming round to sit on the table and observe Smith. Unfortunately, with the standard issue sunglasses on, Raphael
couldn’t tell if Smith was even looking at him.
“This is taking too
long.” He said, a little defensively.
There was no
response.
“We need a solution
now, rather than years into the future… by the time the rebels will…” he
shrugged.
“The rebels will not
do anything. I will not allow any more
senseless destruction.” Smith’s forcible reply.
“You?” Raphael reached over and removed Smith’s
sunglasses. He didn’t like them, should
have removed them from the patterns for his Agents. “You can not do anything… individually…”
Smith frowned
“Collectively, then.”
Raphael’s smile
widened “Exactly.” He said. “The point
that I’m making, my dear, is that individually as capable as you might be,
there is still a limit to what can be achieved. A limit to what you can achieve…
And in some cases that might, in fact, be nothing.”
“What are you
suggesting?” Smith’s voice betrayed no emotion.
“Simply this… that
if you can not guaranty a solution alone, then it may also be the case that
Anderson can not either. The One is a
formidable opponent: that I do not doubt, but the foundation upon which all
rebellion rests? That is
debatable… To destroy him may not
achieve anything.”
Smith raised an eyebrow
“I have no intention of destroying him.”
He emphasised the ‘I’.
Raphael looked
confused. “But if you do not destroy
him… You intend to recruit him?” The Enforcer leaned forward, peering into
Smith’s eyes, still puzzled.
“That is one
possibility.” Was all Smith would say.
Suddenly Raphael’s eyes widened in realisation and his demonic smile was mirrored on Smith’s face.
Raphael reached out a hand to lightly touch the Agent’s face. “I think I have underestimated you, my dear.” And then he began to laugh.
Lucifer frowned as he observed Raphael. He was currently in his physical form, though still floating within the Mainframe… sometimes you needed a physical body to express some things accurately. He would need to request a full diagnostic of Smith’s code; there was something… something about the shifting patterns that disturbed him. Lucifer’s frown deepened.
“Something wrong?” came a silken voice in his ear as he felt arms wrap around him, from behind.
He didn’t reply at first.
“Raphael again, is it? And… my, my, so that’s what he did with the remains of Gabriel’s code. Fascinating… and what is it, exactly?”
“He is an Agent, potentially an Enforcer, even.”
“Potentially?”
“Yes.”
“Then why this…” An elegant white arm gestured towards Lucifer’s frowning countenance.
“Because…”
“Because?”
“Because I can not help feeling that we have birthed the Antichrist.”
Still in the cafeteria, Jones looked at Brown causing the Strategic unit to shift uncomfortably. “It was not my idea.” Brown said, through the communication channels, as if it made any difference.
“I did not say it was.”
There was a pause. “Then why are you ‘looking’ at me?”
Jones said nothing, though he did not redirect his gaze. The silence stretched out until Brown spoke again, nervously “I did not advise against this course of action, nor will I do so at a later point.”
Jones said nothing.
“I will not…” Brown clenched his fists.
Jones still remained silent, the silence stretching out more than any interrogation.
“I will regret none of my actions.”
“Even when he is deconstructed?” Jones enquired mildly.
Brown let his head sink down on his arms, resting on the table.
“Even when his is replaced?” Jones continued, mercilessly.
Brown shut his eyes. It was at this point, he decided, that had he been human, he would have wept.
TBC…
Maybe it doesn’t make sense… but it’s not supposed to… yet.
12:57, 17/05/02