Herein lies my story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy telling it.

Read it, or don't, it's your choice. I'll keep posting new chapters as they are written; It's as much for my sanity as it is for your enjoyment.  

I also want to take just a brief second to say thanks to the W's - Larry and Andy, Warner Bros, Sony, SOE, MxO, and all you Believers who have helped to create such a rich world to escape to.

EDIT for content.

Message Edited by Shi+Xin+Feng on 06.09.2006

Chapter 2

Lumina pushed open the door to room 714, ready to act the candy-striper role again if she found herself confronted by anyone other than the Courier. She was temporarily blinded by the direct rays of sunlight pouring into the room. She hadn't given much thought to sunrises since learning that they were programed. Looking through the window however, she noticed this one was especially beautiful, moreso than any other she could ever remember.

The second thing Lumina noticed upon entering the Courier’s room was that she was indeed not alone with the Exile. The little girl looked up as Lumina entered room. Obviously Hindi by her features, she had apparently been occupying that chair for some time, and was struggling to get up out of it. Maybe the old Exile had somehow attracted a ‘granddaughter’ figure in this curious little girl. Her big dark eyes stared into Lumina’s, making the older woman want to avert her eyes, but she found she did not have the ability to turn her head away. There was something strange, something . . . magnetic about this dark haired little girl.

“I know who you are, Lumina. And why you are here,” said the girl in a soft, almost sad, voice.

“Who are you?” Lumina asked warily. She did not like being surprised, especially by children. Only an irresponsible doctor could be surprised by something happening with a child.

“I won't let you to harm him.” The look in the little girl’s eye said she was dead serious. But after a second she seemed to realize the futility of her threatening tone, and appeared to be embarrassed.

“What makes you think I’m here to hurt him?” Time was ticking and she couldn’t spare any for this kid. But Lumina was starting to get the feeling that the kid was more of a menace than Lumina was giving her credit for. The older woman checked her exits from the room, to make sure her paths were clear. Just in case.

“The Oracle sent me, Lumina. She wants me to tell you that she wants to see you. And Shi Xin Feng, as well as the rest of the crew of the Rocinante, of course.” The little girl was not making a demand or a request; she simply expected it to happen. “She also told me to tell you that if you pursue this course, the Courier’s answers will lead you to the death of one of your comrades and the destruction of the Peace.”

With that, the little girl stood up and walked to the door. She pulled it open, pausing to look back and say, “When you’re finished here, seek her out. She said you would know where to look.”  The door clicked shut softly.

Lumina wasn’t sure quite what to make of the girl or her message. She had only been summoned to the Oracle once before, and was eager to forget that experience. It had been a mortifying disaster. But this was a summons for the whole crew. And what was she talking about with the death of one my comrades?

Then, something hit Lumina like a morphine rush; the little girl hadn’t strained a bit when she opened the door. Lumina stood rooted to the spot, dumbstruck. She had watched hundreds of children opening those doors have to throw their whole weight into pulling them open; leaning all the way back with their little muscles taut with strain. But this little dark-haired, dark-eyed girl pulled open the heavy door as if it weighed nothing.

Who the hell was that? Lumina thought as she stared at the closed door.

"Thank you, Sati." a voice like stone grinding behind her. “She is actually a very sweet little girl once you get to know her.”

Lumina started at the sound of the old man’s voice. She had been so dumbfounded by the girl, she hadn’t noticed that the room’s other occupant was awake. After a moment of lingering thought on the heavy oak door, Lumina turned to face The Courier.

He was a small, frail shell of a man, barely there at all. His sallow frame didn’t even fill half the hospital bed. His mottled skin was stretched tight over his completely bald skull and his eyes had sunken to the point of becoming two black holes in his face. When he spoke his toothless gums showed behind his bloodless lips and he spoke with a slur.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked. She knew he did; she merely thought it a polite way to start the conversation. She was not even remotely ready for his answer, however.

“You are the Herald of Pain, the Harbinger of Sorrow, the Angel of Death, come to sweep my soul into the Pit of Oblivion.” His voice was barely more than a rasp.

Lumina could tell from years of medical training that his rasping breath would soon become the death rattle of his final breath leaving his lungs. This shell of a man was about to die. Or whatever it was that happened to deleted programs. But that barely even registered to her after what he had called her. Angel of Death. Lumina felt the acid in her stomach begin to churn. The newspapers had hung the nickname 'Angel of Death' on her when she was being tried for Michael's murder. Michael Daniels was a patient of hers. One that she had killed. He had presented with swollen tonsils, fairly normal for a 16-year-old boy with mono or tonsillitis. In her morphine-induced haze, though, she hadn’t been able to read the admitting RN’s note on his chart that the boy was allergic to penicillin. Michael had come in laughing, even though he was in a fair amount of discomfort. He had left completely silent. Well, not completely. His easy-going laugh haunted her dreams to this day. The press had said that she was “both beautiful and terrible to behold” in part because her good looks had been ruined by her habit, and therefore hanging her with a nickname that apparently had followed her to this day. She could have cheerfully strangled the **bleep** that had written that lovely piece of literature.

She moved closer to his bed and looked down at him. “Why did you call me that, Exile?” Lumina sensed that he had mere minutes to live, and this was not what she had been sent for. But she could not stop herself, she was morbidly snared.

“Because you are what you are. The product of the choices you have made” he whispered. “Because your coming means my end, and the end of The Beginning. When you depart this room, the chain of events becomes unavoidable and will lead to the end of the Peace between Machines and Men.”

She heard his breathing become shallower and saw that his chest was beginning to show signs of strain in the attempt to continue to pul in air. A distant, disconnected part of her mind niggled at her conscious thoughts, wondering why he felt it necessary to maintain such a charade. The doctor part of her mind started calculating the possible problems and listing the necessary steps to correct them. Her hand twitched toward his chart, wondering what ailment was being classified as the means to his end. She realized it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it only meant one thing: deletion.

He turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. Lumina felt time press in from all around her. She had to complete the mission and get the information so that they could continue on thier quest. And so she could look her captain in the eye. She shook off her shock and dismay at his titles for her, and leaned in close to the Courier’s face.

“You know why I’m here. What I’m looking for. Help us find the one who can give us the truth.” This close to him Lumina could smell the odors of age: decay, rot, sweat, urine. All normal smells a doctor would expect of a dying patient, save one: fear. The Exile was not afraid to die, it would seem.

“You were tasked to carry the proof of Neo’s death from the Source to Zion. For your message to be true, you either had to have witnessed it yourself, or spoken with the one who did. We have established through historical record that you were not present at the Source on that day.” She was all about business now, gathering momentum as she went on. “In fact, you were hiding at the pleasure of the Merovingian while the Source disseminated Neo’s code and rebooted the prime program. That means you had to have spoken directly with the witness.”

His eyes fluttered open briefly and fixed on her. For a second, as his confusion cleared and his gaze became more intent she thought she saw . . . recognition there. But what did that mean? Did he see something in her code? He motioned her to move closer, a faint half-smile thinning his translucent lips. Lumina leaned in closer to hear his whispered response.

“You are too beautiful to be here. Why did you wake up?” he breathed.

For the third time today, this Exile had said something that startled her. She was beginning to feel as jumpy as a school girl. She realized that he knew that she hadn’t been extricated like the others. How he knew, she couldn’t say, but she was certain that his knowledge of her was absolute. She just stared at him, afraid he would speak again, but unable to form the words to stop him.

“I was there. The day you ended your symbiosis and Disengaged.” He relaxed his head onto the pillow and closed his eyes, that strange smile still in place. “I saw the whole thing. Just downstairs, in this very hospital, in fact. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. You shone with a light that I never thought could come from a human.” He began a coughing fit that lasted for several seconds, doubling up as his stomach muscles contracted around his diaphragm in an effort to expel the phlegm that was blocking his airway. As the coughing subsided, he eased back down to the bed. Lumina was stunned. This was not at all what she had expected of this mission. Here she was, a battle hardened operative of Zion, yet she was acting like a 14-year old girl who had no idea of who she was or what would become of her.

“You are . . . not ready for . . . this knowledge.” He labored for breath. “You are not . . . able to comprehend the answer you seek. It will . . . destroy you. It will destroy everything.”

Clearing her voice to rid it of any squeaking, she pressed him, “Who is the witness? We know it was some kind of transport, what is its designation? Where can we find it?”

She waited for a long two minutes, listening to his breath rattle in and out. “Please, you have no time,” she pleaded. “Tell me who it is?”

A loud, high-pitched beep began to emit from the old man’s EKG monitor. She looked up to see that his vitals were plummeting and his heart rate was flat-lining.

“No!” she screamed, grabbing the front of his hospital gown and jerking him upright in bed. She gave him a full arm slap to the face and then punched his chest, knowing that it was too late; the program was being deleted.

Amazingly enough, the jolt to his chest or the slap to the face jump started his heart enough to get the EKG beeping again. Still rooted in a system made up of rules, she thought, slightly amused with her actions but still breathing hard. The Courier’s eyes fluttered again and this time when he finally focused on her, he groaned.

“Why would you do that? Do you know how long I have been waiting for this? How long I have been rotting here in this hospital, waiting to leave this place, this reality?” His voice was rising in both pitch and volume.

“You’re not going anywhere until you give me the info I came for.” Her jaw was set and she was determined to get an answer even if she had to beat it out of him. “You should know I have no qualms about beating you to death to get what I need. It’s your choice: go out painfully? Or peacefully? What’s it gonna be?”

“Foolish human girl,” he spat. “Do you not understand? It is finished; the war is over and your ‘savior’ is dead. Go back to fulfilling your silly human desires by running pointless missions and collecting meaningless bits of code. Leave me be to die in peace. At least, before you manage to destroy it.” He was angry now; his cheeks flushed with color. That was good; when she had first examined him upon dismissing that amazing little girl, his skin had been pallid and waxy, the skin of a corpse. Now it was flushed and hot from the blood pumping through it.

“Give me the designation of the machine that carried Neo’s body away from the Source and I’ll leave.” She crossed her arms and rested all her weight on one hip in the age-old gesture of female defiance and stubbornness.

The Exile looked at her with sullen hatred. Then his features softened into something resembling pity, and finally acquiescence. “Very well, Angel of Death.” Defeat was plain in his voice, but it wasn’t clear if he felt defeated or betrayed. “What do I care anyway, I’m leaving this place. The one you seek is a Refuse Collection Scow of 01, designated NX901B-44. You will find NX901 performing his duties in the MachineCity, Zero-One. But you had better hurry; it is near the end of his cycle when he will be dismantled, re-parted and his cortex erased.”

“Now I suggest you leave before they get here.” He sagged back into the bed, once again closing his eyes. Within seconds, he had started to grow pale again.

“Before who gets here?” She moved to the door, cracking it open an inch or two to look out on the hall. Lumina saw nothing stirring in the hospital corridor. She knew that it would be full soon, though, now that the sun was up. Actually, she wsas surprised to find it so quiet, even for a Saturday.

“Agents.”

Message Edited by Shi+Xin+Feng on 06.09.2006 08:23 PM
Message edited by ShiXinFeng on 06/09/2006 17:23:22.

Chapter 3

Now Lumina did jump. She spun around to see who else was in the room . . .and found Jell-O. And just like that, like a light in a dark room, Lumina felt better, felt safer. Jell-O was the quintessential kick-butt chick. Her hands were lethal and she always knew how to get out of a tight spot. She had never even been touched in hand-to-hand combat since Awakening.

“Goddamn it, Jell, you scared the bejesus outta me. How did you get in here without me noticing? How many cops? Wait, did you say Agents? Plural?”

“At least two, accompanied by a host of armed escorts.  Apparently, they expected the Exile to die when it was his time, but when he didn’t . . . I guess they decided to come do it themselves.” Lumina thought she heard the old man chuckle behind them.

“Listen, we can do this if you clear your mind and focus on your path.” Jell-O was definitely in charge now. “Don’t hurry, because that will do nothing but invite errors. Don’t dally because we need to keep them guessing as long as possible.”

They were moving out into the corridor now, down the hall toward the elevators. Lumina ducked into the room where the candy-striper was still unconscious and grabbed her leather jacket, tossing the nurse’s smock over the limp form of the girl. She could have duplicated the jacket, but she wasn’t going to be killed wearing the pink and white candy-striper outfit.

“Exits?” Arriving at the elevator bank, Lumina could see that all three cars were on their way up. She had no doubt as to what floor they would be stopping at.

“There is a clean exit in Vauxton at the Municipal Auditorium. Once we clear the hospital, you will have to drive. I’ll need to keep my hands free.” Jell was already moving to the stairwell, and Lumina had no choice but to run to keep up with her, hitting the Emergency Stairwell Exit door shoulder-first. Jell-O was leaning over the railing looking down the stairwell, where the growing sounds of military issue boots pounding on concrete steps and the swish-swish of combat cammies rubbing together from the pumping legs of more than a few dozen SWAT officers was reverberating up to them.

“Well, do we take them out here,” asked Lumina “or lead them up to the roof?”

Jell seemed to consider making a stand here, but the thought terrified Lumina. The thought of bullets ricocheting in such a cramped space tightened her throat as she pictured in her mind’s eye the grisly scene of their bodies being ripped to shreds by the wildly careening projectiles. But, she consigned herself to whatever Jell thought best. She admired Jell-O for more than her combat prowess; this kid had been through a lot. She had come out of the pods at nineteen, weighing over three hundred pounds. Hence the handle, her hacker alias, which she took for herself from a nickname her cruel, little **bleep** classmates had given her. Saying that she had been an over-indulger as a Bluepill was to say that anteaters snap up a few ants once in a while. Lumina had once observed Jell eat a typical daily breakfast, during the required pre-Awakening eval. It was a sad memory. Since then, however, Jell-O had more than earned Lumina’s respect. Earned it ten times over, in fact.

They simultaneously began checking their weapons, pulling back slides, clicking levers, adjusting holsters. Then they checked each other to be sure. Once they were satisfied every gun had a round chambered, every safety was off, and every knife was ready to pull, they looked at each other. Jell’s stringy hair hung limp in her eyes, Lumina’s frizzy dark hair waving wispily this way and that.

“Up,” said Jell-O. The decision was heavy in her voice.

Lumina didn’t hesitate; she turned and ran up the stairs. Even in their current state of physical readiness, they were fairly slow reaching the top of the fourteen story climb. They burst through the door and were met with brilliant sunshine and the most beautiful sound Lumina had ever heard, the engine of what the hospital staff secretly referred to as the Flying Hearse, a Bell Ranger Lifeline helo. The engine was just starting to spin up. Lumina didn’t need to stop to tell Jell-O, she could already feel the girl’s hand pressing into the small of her back, pushing her in that direction. As they approached the helo, Jell moved around from behind Lumina and pulled her identical nickel-plated Walther PPK’s. She walked right up to the nose of ship, the sun glinting off of her shiny black vinyl shirt, and pressed the muzzles against the glass. The pilot obviously began to rethink his flight plan, because he started hurriedly pulling of his safety harness. Lumina, meanwhile, pulled out her cell and hit the SEND button.

Warden picked up immediately. “Operator.”

“Warden, I need to be able to fly a Bell Jet Ranger, model . . . uh . . .206L, right now man.” She didn’t care if they heard panic in her voice at any second those Agents were going to pop out of that door and start a shooting gallery up here, with herself and Jell-O as the targets and the prizes.

“Here it comes, kiddo.” Of course, Warden was ready with the program; he already knew the helo was there and what kind it was. He never showed any kind of emotion, though, the sorry bast—AAGGH! The pressure inside her head was intense! Then, as quick as it came, it was gone; replaced with the requested knowledge. She quickly forgot about Warden as she inventoried just how much she knew about how to pilot the Ranger: how to start the turbine, how to pitch the cyclic to increase the angle of the blades, even how to perform an autorotation in the event the aircraft lost power during flight. She felt like she had been flying them all her life.

“Got it,” Lumina shouted at Jell-O. “Get him out of there and let’s go.”

She started shuffling toward the helo, watching as Jell pulled the little pilot from his from seat, ripping his khaki jumpsuit at the shoulder as she tossed him onto the hard-packed gravel of the rooftop.

“Trust me,” Jell-O said to the pilot, smirking as she said it, “you do not want to go where we are going.”

Well, Lumina thought, I always said she would’ve been a heartbreaker in another life.

Lumina’s attention was violently redirected by a crashing noise coming from the doorway of the stairwell that led up to the roof. The door itself had exploded outward and was now horrendously concave and hanging askew from its bottom hinge. From the square, black hole that the misshapen door had been covering strode a tall man in a brownish-green, non-descript suit. The morning sun glinted off of black sunglasses. He was impossibly well-groomed, had an earpiece in his right ear and, of course, the ever-present sunglasses were fixed perfectly. Lumina recognized him immediately and screamed at Jell-O, “AGENT!!” She then turned and dropped to one knee as she began depressing the trigger as fast as possible. In short order, she had emptied her Beretta .9mm at the Agent and the other black forms pouring out of the hole. Black Talon rounds ripped into the thighs and chests of two of the SWAT guys with sickening fountains of blood and bone, but that was only because they had the misfortune of being behind the Agent as he dodged her carefully aimed rounds. He was a blur; swinging this way and that arms and legs moving so fast Lumina could barely register them.

When her pistol began to click from the hammer slamming into the empty firing chamber, she dropped it onto the rooftop while reaching for the two MAC 10 submachine pistols slung on her back. She never let her eyes leave those of the Agent.

Lumina felt rather than heard Jell-O come up behind her just as the Agent pulled his Israeli-made .50 cal Desert Eagle from the shoulder holster. Jell-O shoved Lumina hard and they both went flying across the roof to land in a heap behind one of the four giant air handlers on the hospital roof. The sound of the Desert Eagle’s .50 caliber Action Express rounds was unmistakable in the now-stifling heat of the rooftop. Instead of the rounds tearing into the air handler and flying all around them, however, they began to pierce the turbine housing just below the rotor of the helo.

Lumina grabbed Jell-O’s head and turned it away from trying to get a bead on the Agent to look at the Ranger. By now, the SWAT team had found safe places to dig in and began firing their MP-5’s at the air handler the two women were hiding behind.

“We have to get off of this roof, now!” Lumina was trying not to scream hysterically. “He’s trying to blow up the chopper!”

Jell-O began to look around. Lumina ducked around the air handler and started firing short bursts at the Agent in an effort to keep him busy. After a moment, Jell fixed on something, and she said, “Did you ever see the movie ‘Die Hard’ with that Bruce Willis guy?” When Lumina looked at her with a frustrated, puzzled expression, Jell-O yelled, “Never mind. Wait here, be right back.”

To which Lumina responded, “No, I think I’ll go . . . for a . . . pizza!”

Jell-O scurried off in the direction of the roof’s edge. She came back just as Lumina was running out of bullets.

“Tie this tight around your waist, Lum.” She thrust something heavy and canvas at Lumina – a fire hose. Lumina looked at Jell-O for a second, and then decided she was simply going to have to trust the other woman. After double-looping the hose around her waist, she said, “okay, now what?” Pa-chung. Another round pierced the side of the helicopter.

“Just follow me.” Jell-O jumped up and began to run; bullets glancing off the rooftop so close they were ricocheting loose gravel back up at her. Lumina had no choice but to follow suit; she could now see that Jell had the hose tied around her waist a little farther up the line. They ran to the edge of the building and Jell-O screamed, “JUMP!” Before Lumina could lose her nerve, she followed Jell over the edge. At the same instant, behind her, she heard another Pa-chung as yet another round from the Agent’s hand cannon tore into the side of the Ranger. This time, the .50 cal round must have found a vital component, because as she fell, she heard a roar and felt the concussion. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw the air rippling outwards from the direction of the helo. She felt the heat baking her face and singing her hair even before she saw the massive fireball roll out from the roof top above her.

Then, the hose caught and pulled taut, yanking them like a dead yo-yo at the end of a string. Lumina thought she heard a crack come from Jell-O’s chest, but the girl didn’t show any outward sign. They swung at the end of the hose, trying to complete their pendulum arc, and slammed against the heavy glass of the office window. It smashed, spider-webbing from frame to frame, but it didn’t disintegrate. Jell-O, wincing now with every breath, pulled a Colt .45 from her belt and smashed the butt into the top corners of the ruined glass. The window fell apart then, letting them swing into the office. They untangled themselves from the hose and then both sagged to their knees breathing hard. They rested there for a minute.

“It’ll . . . take them . . . a little while . . . to figure out . . . we weren’t on that roof.” Jell-O could barely speak she was so out of breath.

“Yippie Ki Yay, mother**bleep**?” asked Lumina breathily. She grinned hard at Jell who laughed out loud.

“Yeah, I know, I watched too many movies before you guys saved me,” she said, seemingly embarrassed.

Lumina got up and threw her arms around the younger woman, giving her a huge hug and whispering thanks, to which Jell-O promptly groaned and clutched her side, “Oh-oh-oh. dammit, that hurts.”

“Let me see it,” Lumina said with the air of authority that all doctors seem to inherit sometime during their residency.

“No, we don’t have time. Besides, you can’t really fix it in here anyway, huh?” Jell-O began to pull herself up off the floor. She gingerly kept her left arm near her side. Lumina sidled up on Jell’s right side and draped the hurt woman’s right arm around her shoulder. “Let’s just get to the exit and get home.”

They hobbled toward the door of the empty office; Lumina supporting half of Jell-O’s weight. She chuckled again and said, “You ever try that ‘cowboy’ crap with me again, I’ll drop you off the side of the building myself. Without the friggin’ hose.” Jell-O laughed out loud, and then cried out, “Oh, stop it! Jesus, that hurts.”

*          *          *

Agent Jones walked to the edge of the blackened, smoldering rooftop. Apparently, the targets had been blown clear of the top of the building, as there was no sign yet of their bodies. A search was being conducted on the rooftop and in the streets below. He looked out at the surrounding cityscape, only partially using his resources to scan for damage and possible landing sites for the bodies of the two Zion operatives. He was also trying to extrapolate the possibilities that they could still be alive, as well as receiving information from his subordinate Agent downstairs that the Exile had been dispatched.

As he turned to leave, he toed something hanging off the side of the roof. It was part of the building’s rooftop fire suppression system, commonly referred to as a ‘fire hose’. He scanned the hose back to its reel, which was hanging by a bolt on one side. Agent Jones knew that the explosion had not caused such damage. He turned and followed the hose over the side. He could see the brass nozzle dangling eleven meters below him. Focusing closer, he spotted something he found to be extraordinary: leaning slightly outward from the flat plane of the building was a large shard of glass. It was possible that the brass nozzle caused the destruction of the window when the two connected with one another, but the intuitive Agent Jones realized instead that not only were the Zion operatives not lying dead in the street somewhere below, they were likely departing the Simulation at that very moment.

The knowledge that he had lost his quarry caused no regret in Agent Jones even though he knew that they had collected information from the Exile that could cause problems for his superiors. That they had evaded attempts at capture, though, did not perturb him in the least. He knew what information the two humans had collected and why it had been important to retire them. Armed with this knowledge, he could reasonably speculate what they were planning. Agent Jones calculated they would return to the Matrix in short order. He would be waiting.

Message Edited by Shi+Xin+Feng on 06.13.2006 01:58 AM

Message Edited by Shi+Xin+Feng on 06.13.2006 02:07 AM
Message edited by ShiXinFeng on 06/12/2006 23:07:58.

Chapter 4 (A)

Lumina’s first sensation was of the tickling, tingling sensation in the middle of her head. Her medical training told her it was just a phantom feeling since there were no nerves in the brain to feel any tickling or pain. Nevertheless, her mind made it real. Accompanying this sometimes-queasy feeling were the sounds of the chair servo and the slide-click of the cerebral needle disengaging from the receptacle at the base of her skull. She tried not to think too hard about the damage that must have been done to her brain tissue when that piece of metal and fiber-optic filament had been wet-wired to her central nervous system.

Before Lumina even opened her eyes, she sensed Shi Xin at her side. It must be him unplugging her. She could smell him; a strong, masculine smell of focused determination. It was slightly difficult to pick his scent out amongst the myriad smells of ozone, sweat, grease, and rust that always permeated the air of the ship’s main deck. It smelled like home. She opened her eyes and looked up into his ice blue eyes and smiled. He smiled back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, softly. He wasn’t just asking if she was hurt.

The harsh glare of the fluorescents cast their cold light and deep shadows all about the main deck, illuminating conduits, water pipes, the grappling hook for retrieving their newly-Awakened comrades, the Operator’s station, and, of course, the Core. The flat, white light did nothing for the hard lines in Shi Xin’s face, except make the creases seem deeper, his hair whiter, and his eyes more hollow. Nevertheless, she was happy to see him again.

“I’m fine.” She said, still smiling.

Jell-O let out a groan, “Ohhh, I’m not though, dammit. My chest feels like a bus is parked on it.”

Shi Xin stepped back, allowing Lumina enough room to stand up. She shot up out of her chair and leapt over to Jell’s chair, nearly knocking over Gabe, the Roc’s First Mate. Jell-O was holding her left side just below her breast. She looked to be in as much pain as Lumina had ever seen her in.

“Gabe, give me that med kit behind you.” It was not a request. After a brief hesitation, Gabe reached up and grabbed the green canvas pouch and handed it to her.

“What happened to her,” Gabe asked, perhaps a trifle sullenly. He hated it when anyone but Shi Xin tried to give him orders, but he really hated it when crewmates came home injured. Lumina thought that the stalwart first mate took it personally because he couldn’t be there to help protect them. Nevertheless, she knew she would hear it from him later; the stocky First Mate didn’t take orders from anyone on this ship but the Skipper.

Dreading that conversation but focusing on the situation at hand, she opened the pouch and pulled out a hypo spray gun loaded with Morphi-biodex and nano-meds. The Morphi-biodex was a pharmacological miracle; a painkiller with all the benefits of antibiotics, morphine and a steroid called dexamethasone. The nano-meds were a gift from the Oracle early on in what was now being called the previous ‘Awakening cycle’. Apparently, amazingly, it was one of the few physical, man-made medical treatments that had survived from the era before the Fall of Man. The concoction was now carefully reproduced in the labs of the Zion Temple and had saved the lives of more operatives than could be counted. The smaller-than-microscopic nano-med organisms were injected into the bloodstream where they would adapt their electrical signature to that of the host’s white blood cells. That way, they could localize the damaged areas of the body and, using the surgical knowledge of human and machine from the last three thousand years, could quickly work together to mend the damage. Lumina constantly marveled at the advanced technology that had virtually rendered her skills as a surgeon obsolete. Not that she really wanted to cut on anyone, anyway. Those days were long over for her.

Lumina placed the injector nozzle against Jell-O’s hip and depressed the trigger. The pressure of the hypo-spray shooting into Jell’s bloodstream seemed to cause the gun to heat in her hand. Or maybe that was just the heat from her hand warming the gun due to her anxiety.

“There you go, kiddo,” said Lumina as she checked Jell’s pupils for dilation. “That’ll get you started on happy hour while we get you below to the infirmary.”

Jell-O started to mumble something, but it was unintelligible as she slipped from consciousness.

“Gabe, will you grab the gurney over there, please, and help me get her down the cargo lift?” Maybe by asking now instead of ordering, it would make up for some of her shortness before. The big First Mate silently rolled the bed over to the chair and helped Lumina and Shi Xin carefully lift the suddenly frail-seeming body of a twenty-something girl onto it. They rolled her over to the cargo elevator and Lumina locked the casters so she wouldn’t roll around. She let out a chuckle as it occurred to her just how hard it was for some habits to die.

“What’s funny, Doc?” Gabe asked, looking at Lumina sideways. He called her Doc, after the nickname the cartoon character Bugs Bunny gave to everyone. He had never seen Bugs’ escapades against his arch-nemesis Elmer Fudd firsthand because he was a Home-Grown, but as a kid they had been his favorite stories to hear being told by the Awakened redpills. Gabe was okay; he had a strange innocence to him that belied his size and gruffness. Lumina knew that this was due to the fact that he had never been messed over by a family-member or friend here in the Real. It just wasn’t the way of things on this side of the Looking Glass. Of course, that didn’t mean Gabe wouldn’t put a scavenged size-14 boot in you **bleep** for slacking.

“Nothing, sir” she replied, still smiling. “Just thinking of the past.”

As the elevator lurched into its creeping descent, Shi Xin called out to Lumina, “Get her patched up as best as you can. We start a mission de-briefing at 1730 hours.”

“Aye, aye, Skipper” Lumina replied, a little sarcastically. Shi Xin was anxious to learn what had transpired with the Exile. But she thought she saw a hint of a smirk on her captain’s face as he turned away to head up to the **bleep**pit.

*          *          *

Chapter 4 (B)

Pain in Jell-O’s side brought her back to consciousness a little at a time. As she began to wake fully, she started cataloging her sensations as part of the awareness exercises Shi Xin had taught her. The first thing she felt was her pain: in her left side, just below her breast. Once she had her pain localized, she isolated it and shut it out. Easy enough, once you knew the trick to it. She took stock of her other aches and pains, but none were as serious as her busted ribs.

Her next sensory input was the coolness of the med-station she was lying on. She must be naked to be that cold. If Lumina removed my clothes in front of the Skipper and Gabe, I will kill her. Slowly and with great relish. The thought of being incapacitated in front of the two highest ranking officers of the ship was hard enough for Jell to bear, but being indecent as well was unforgivable.

She began to notice the smells of the ship; water, decay, perspiration, desperation. The Rocinante was not an old ship, but had been through a lot. The skipper had pieced her together with his own two hands from the wreckage of other vehicles while he was still serving on the Omerta. The Rocinante was truly a labor of love.

As Jell-O laid there on the table gathering her strength, she thought about her home, letting her mind drift back to one of the first conversations between her and Warden shortly after she had woke up. The ship’s name had struck Jell-O as odd when she had first heard it. Now, of course, it seemed the most natural name in the world. She couldn’t imagine any other moniker for her home. It just fit.

“Why the ‘Rocinante’? What’s it mean?” asked Jell-O in her typical wide-eyed way. Warden hesitated for a second and then said, “Maybe that’s a question for the Captain. He named her after all.” Jell replied, “No, when I asked him, he just smiled and said he had his reasons.” Warden stared at Jell-O as if measuring her up for the telling. As he began, Jell saw Warden’s eyes glaze as he reflected inward. It was as much emotion as Jell had ever seen from him.

“The Rocinante has several annotations in mankind’s literary anthology. Some say that ancient mythology held stories of a unicorn named Rocinante. He was unique, in that he was the only unicorn to ever be born black as midnight.” Warden seemed to stare off into the distance, almost as if he were trying to see into that long lost past to catch a glimpse the magical creature. He shook himself out of his reverie.

“The most famous namesake however, was the horse of Don Quixote in the classic literature of the same name. Ever read it? I didn’t think so, not many have. Rocinante was Don Quixote's, er . . . he's the main character, trusty and faithful steed. He was also a nag. In fact, the name Rocinante means ‘supernag’ in Latin or Spanish, I think. But, during all their wild travels together, the horse never left that crazy **bleep** Don Quixote’s side.” Warden was smiling, now. Well, half-smiling, really, but still a smile.

“He also liked a group called Rush. You might say their music . . . helped him to wake up to the nature of the Matrix. Anyway, in several of their songs, they referred to a ship called the Rocinante. The Skipper's tastes never ran to the norms; not now and not as a bluepill. That’s how we find ourselves calling this Mark III Hovercraft Rocinante home.”

Home. No place Jell had ever lived before had seemed like home, partly because she had never been at ease or comfortable in the Matrix and partly because she had hated living before Waking. But this was home.

Without opening her eyes, Jell let her senses expand throughout the infirmary. She could feel the dampness in the air stirring from the filtration system. The coolness and the absence of a glare meant that the lights were out. The cold steel hull was thrumming from the vibration of the electrically charged grav-pads. Every now and then, the riveted joints would give a loud pang as the metal expanded and contracted.

Completely awake now, Jell eased herself up and slid gingerly off the table. She felt better than when she had jacked out, but her body was still tight. The pain in her ribs suddenly flared up and hammered at her, making her wince. And her side still hurt, of course. She looked around in the barely-lit room and found that Lumina had stacked some clean clothes for her on a chair by the med-station. Immediately, Jell felt bad about wishing harm on Lumina for stripping her in front of the Captain or Gabe. She knew that Lumina was too professional to do such a thing. Well . . . she knew it now that she was fully cognizant. She dressed as quickly as her infirmity would let her, and shuffled out of the medical bay.

Feeling grateful that the galley was on the same level as the infirmary, Jell headed down the passageway in that direction. Before she could get there, she could hear Shi Xin asking, “Yes, but who was she?” And Lumina responding, stridently, “I have no idea. But she really gave me the creeps.” Mission-debriefing. Jell snuck up to the partially-open hatch and stood quietly listening.

“What was she doing there?” asked Shi Xin.

“I’m not sure. I think she was waiting on me,” Lumina was not her usual doctor-confident self. Perhaps her memory of today’s events was getting to her. Then again, perhaps Lum’s crush on Shi Xin was causing her some discomfort. This thought caused Jell to smile; everybody knew how she felt about him even though she tried so hard to hide it.

“Jell, you might as well stop sneaking around the hatch and come in.” Shi Xin’s command came echoing out around the door and Jell smiled wider. She should have known that her mentor would detect her presence. She pulled open the hatch and entered the room to see that everyone was there except Warden, who was probably on watch in the **bleep**pit. Shi Xin, Lumina, Gabe, Track, Mercury, and Cable were all seated around the large table that had probably started life as a hull section but had been cut down to fit in this room as a table that all of them could sit and eat at together. Merc was a big guy who had been with the crew almost as long as Warden had. He was the muscle out on missions; at seven-foot-three, he towered over everything and he made everyone nervous. Cable was the repair and maintenance chief on the Roc. He was shy and never said much, but he had the added value of being able tear down any part of the ship and rebuild it blindfolded. Jell-O wondered, not for the first time, if Cable might be a bit of a savant. She had heard that there were kids in Iowa or somewhere that could not even speak, but could play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata while half-asleep.

“How’s my personal savior feeling?” Lumina seemed to have lost her former uneasiness and was now staring at her as inquisitively as a bird stares at a worm. Jell smiled and said, “I’m fine. Yippie ki yay.” This caused both of the women to chuckle and the men to stare at them. Jell eased into a chair beside Merc, who pulled the chair out for her and patted her hand after she had sit down.

“Has this ever happened before? Has she ever summoned a whole crew before?” Track asked, leaning forward with both hands palm down on the table. Track always kept his hands in ‘safe territory’ as he liked to say, because they were his livelihood. Track was a reliable operative in the Matrix, but he felt as though his driving ability was all that he had going for him. It was a shame really, he could actually be funny at times.

“Not to my knowledge, Track.” Shi Xin was looking at the ceiling, reflecting on his past. “Even with Neo, only Morpheus went with him. And every Zion Operative sees her sooner or later, but it's always alone. But, she has called every Zion operative in the Matrix together at the same time. So, while her . . . request . . . is unprecedented, it is certainly not without a measure of precursor. I am sure she has reason to speak with each of us.”

“Do you think she wants to talk to each one of us?” asked Lumina, who was glancing at Jell from time to time like a bird looking at a worm.

“Why else would she ask to see the whole crew?” replied the captain.

“The presence of the little girl is disturbing, but given the message that she carried, understandable. It is obvious that she is an Exile of some importance and invested with great power. However, she is not our concern at this time. We must endeavor to understand her message and the meaning of the words of the Courier. Of most obvious importance is the little girl’s portent of a ‘comrade’ of Lumina’s being killed. Let me remind everyone here that what we are doing is of vital importance to Zion and our cause. The blackout of knowledge being perpetrated by the Machines of Neo’s whereabouts or that of his remains is threatening to destroy more than the Peace between man and Machine. In our history, there have been wars that have started over far more trivial concerns. None are as bad as civil wars, though. The rift that is opening in Zion will swallow us completely if we do not find a way to stop it, and we will descend into the eventual destruction of our home and ourselves.”

"Besides,” chimed in a quiet voice, “Neo should be at home; with us.”

Everyone turned to stare at the quietest member of the crew. Jell knew that Cable had been freed by Neo and Trinity, and was something of an oddity for it. Neo had seen something in Cable that no one else had, and had actively recruited him. Cable swore that he didn’t want to Awaken before he met the One, but afterwards, when he woke up on the Nebuchadnezzar, he accepted his fate easily and continued on with life in the Real as if he had been born to it.

“Quite so, Cable. Quite so.” Shi Xin was looking at Cable with the expression of fondness. He looked after the quiet man as an older brother would for a younger.

“We all have a choice. Whether to live or to die is not ours to choose. How we live or die is. We face death everyday in the Matrix trying to realize what some now seem content to let slip away as if it were naught but a pleasant dream. The first step to true freedom is healing. The people of the now, of the Real, are fractured and traumatized. Their savior appeared and was subsequently killed by the Machines somehow. The Children of Zion must heal and grow to become strong again. This will not happen until The One’s remains are returned to Zion and enshrined in the Temple.

“You all undertook your stations as Operatives with full understanding of the dangers inherent with that choice, that life. The Oracle has prescribed a certainty of death for one of us. This does not mean that it would not have happened otherwise. Thanks to the One, we now know that the Oracle was just another form of control created by the Machines to get us to accept life in the pods. I think this latest premonition is just another example of her executing her program. However, if anyone wants, you will be given leave to board the nearest ship the next time we go to broadcast depth. If you choose to stay, you will be expected to follow orders as you always have. I do not expect answers now, but make your decisions before the next time we go in. Are there any questions?”

Shi Xin finished by looking at each one of them squarely. His penetrating gaze seemed to x-ray Jell’s head and see inside to what she was thinking. Of course, if he could, all he would see would be her resolve and dedication to this mission and this ship. Upon Awakening, Jell had dedicated herself to facing every challenge head on. She was not about to quit now. Or let her captain down. From the looks on her crewmates faces, neither were they.

“I require no time to think on this. My decision is made. For the honor of the Rocinante and Zion. For the memory of The One.” Her voice was unwavering.

Immediately, Lumina chimed in her agreement, which was quickly followed by everyone else at the table. Except for Track. Jell was staring at him, staring at her. Finally, he said, “What the hell. If I don’t die, I get halves of the stuff of whoever does.” He grinned big at this, and Lumina said, “Track, you jerk.” This caused everybody to break up for a second.

When everyone began quieting down, Shi Xin said, “All right, let’s try to figure out what the Courier meant and how we’re going to find this ‘NX901’. Lumina, you need to start thinking about how to find the Oracle, since she seems to think you would know how to find her . . .”

The sudden sounding of a klaxon alarm violently ripping the air apart drowned out Shi Xin’s voice. The room was plunged into blood as the lights went out in favor of the red alert lighting. Warden’s voice crackled over the ship’s internal address, “Skipper, better get your **bleep** up here, we got company.”

Shi Xin jumped to the control box on the wall and flipped the switch from ‘receive’ to ‘transmit’.

“What is it, Warden?” Shi Xin was all focus and determination again.

“Negative,” replied Warden, sounding a little nervous. “It’s another ship, and she’s coming in hot. Oh no. It’s the Omerta, Skipper. Bokuro’s found us, sir.”

Chapter 5

Shi Xin thumbed the switch again, “Go Warden! Don’t slow down for anything. Get ready to trade seats with Track.” He turned to the table and announced “All hands to battle stations. I want every aft, spine and belly gun manned until Gabe gives the order to stand down. No firing, I repeat no firing, even if fired upon. The Omerta is family; not our enemies.”

“Let’s go, Track.” Shi Xin started out the hatchway. The ship swung around so that the stern was pointing in the opposite direction and began to pitch forward drastically. The flare-drives of the hovercraft began arcing static electricity around their diameter and off the hull of the ship. The ship shuddered violently and began to move forward in the direction it was pitching to, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed. “You too, Lumina. We’re gonna need you up front on Holographics.”

“Go where, chief?” Track scrambled over the table and out the hatch right on Shi Xin’s heels. “What, you mean to out-fly the Omerta? Skipper . . .” Track’s voice took on the tone of teacher speaking to small child, something that usually infuriated Lumina but didn’t concern Shi Xin. “. . . the Roc’s a fine ship, don’t get me wrong. Not as fine as my top-fuel funny car, but fast all the same.” Shi Xin had reached the ladder and was taking the rungs two at a time. “But she ain’t the Logos or the Hermes. I can’t just disappear down a mechanical line. And I know Bokuro’s driver, Amirah. She’d definitely give me a run for the flag. . .”

As Track reached the top of the ladder, Shi Xin was waiting for him without saying anything. Tracks whining trailed off to grumbling as he said, “oh well, I’m probably going to die next week anyway.” He vaulted off the ladder and streaked up into the **bleep**pit. Warden was already moving out of the driver’s chair, hanging on to the controls until Track grabbed them from him. Shi Xin told Warden to get down to the main deck and secure the Core for hard travel. Warden gave a jaunty salute and tore out of the **bleep**pit. Shi Xin knew that Warden cared as much for that system as a parent did their child and that was where he wanted to be.

Shi Xin hopped into the co-pilot’s chair and Lumina jumped into the navigator’s chair behind him. He powered up the electronic counter-measures and looked around as Lumina fired up the holographics at her station. Immediately, four views of the ship sprang up showing the forward elevation and the pipelines that they were flying into, as well as the rear view which was showing a rapidly moving Omerta closing the distance between them. Track announced, “I can’t outrun them on sheer speed; I need a drop away line. C’mon Lumina, find me something.”

“Okay, 300 meters ahead there is 90 degree turn to port for a 30 degree down angle. Should put some distance between us.” Lumina was pulling switches to keep the images focused and stable.

“He’ll be looking for it, Track.” Shi Xin knew that Bokuro would expect such a tactic. But he had faith in his driver.

“Yeah . . . but knowing it’s coming . . . and being able to do anything about it . . . are different animals. Hang on to your hats, kiddies.”

Track jammed the kill switch for the port side pads and pulled hard left. The ship slowed so hard it threw them all into their harnesses. They dropped like a stone and started to roll the port side. Track grabbed the ignitor lever and pumped like mad.

“Kick it, Boss!” he yelled. Shi Xin stabbed the starter switch for the dead drives, and was relieved to hear the familiar buzz of the port flare drives. The Rocinante responded immediately by leveling out. The ship was now on a heading perpendicular to the direction they had been heading just seconds before. Track shoved the stick forward and the ship shot into the new line.

Lumina called out, “1000 meters. 30 degree to starboard, 30 degree up.”

“Take us shallow, Lumina.” said Shi Xin. “Let’s lose him in the canyons.”

“Shallow aye sir. Searching for a conduit to the surface.”

“Hee hee,” Track giggled. “She missed the turn! Maybe I gave Amirah too much credit.”

“Just keep running, Track.” Shi Xin knew that Bokuro wouldn’t stay lost for long.

“Check our six, boys,” said Lumina. “They didn’t miss it by much.” Shi Xin looked around to see a holographic Omerta coming after them with renewed vigor.

“Where’s that exit, Lum?” The strain was evident on Track’s face. Shi Xin knew that without a miracle, they were done.

“I don’t see . . . wait . . . there we go. It’s straight up, no obstructions. Can you make that, Track?” Lumina looked at him anxiously.

“Honey, they haven’t made a track I can’t drive. You just get me there, Sugar.”

Lumina didn’t bother to chastise Track for getting so familiar, which was a measure of her worry. She began to bark out directions. “500 meters. 90 degrees to port.” The ship made a hard left turn. “700 meters, 45 degrees up. 800 meters, 45 degrees down. 2000 meters, 90 degrees up; that puts you in the pipe 5 by 5, Track.”

Track coaxed the Roc through all the turns and was approaching the exit conduit. Track yelled again, “Hang on!” Instead of pulling up, Track threw the charging switch for the flare drives all the way over and Shi Xin could hear the drives crackle with intense static discharges. The ship began to climb straight up the pipe while remaining horizontal.

“Watch it! Rotate port!” yelled Lumina. “We’re gonna hit that pipe!”  

Shi Xin punched the keypad furiously and the ship rotated to port on its central axis while continuing to climb. The pipe passed within inches of the **bleep**pit glass. Lumina breathed a heavy sigh while Track relaxed visibly in his seat. It would take a minute to climb to the top. Track and Shi Xin turned to holographic images to see where the other ship was and to also see where they were going.

The Omerta was just coming under the conduit and was executing the same maneuver Track had made a minute ago. They were pointing in the other direction, so they must have missed it the first time and had to have swung back around. But the Omerta was carrying more pads than the Roc and was definitely the faster of the two ships. Bokuro was gaining.

“The best direction to head when we hit topside is north, to the ?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />OldCity. We can lose him in the canyons and then. . .” Track trailed off as he realized that there wasn’t really anyplace to go.

Shi Xin looked at Lumina, who was staring at him. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly. He took it to mean that she had realized what he already knew; they weren’t going to be able to outrun him.

There was nowhere to go anyway; they could not run forever. Sure, they could probably make it to one of the sympathizer outposts, but it wouldn’t be much of a life for him or his crew. Although they were all eager volunteers, the fact was this mission had them ‘off the reservation’ and each would likely face the Council as traitors.

There may be a way out of this yet, however. It was Bokuro after all; at one time, he believed in the Prophecy even more than Shi Xin.

The ship climbed out of the hole and moved away from the opening. All Shi Xin could see for miles through the view screen was ruined earth and the ashes of hope.

“Which way, Skipper?” Track was looking at him anxiously, fingers twitching nervously over the keypad.

“Track, find an empty spot and set us down.” Not waiting to hear his driver’s cry of disbelief, “What?! We’re just giving up?” Shi Xin flipped the switch to the main deck P.A. “Warden, prep the Core for lock and power down. My old boss wants to talk; we’ll talk.”

Track sat staring at him.

“Track, your outstanding driving skills aside, you know the Roc can’t outrun Bokuro’s ship. You said it yourself. Bokuro was . . . is a friend. I’ll talk to him; make him see our way of thinking. Besides, even Lucadello himself wouldn’t deny us a summons to the Oracle.”

Track sullenly complied. The ship turned toward the opening of the conduit they had just retreated from, just in time to see the Omerta emerging from it. Track fired the scanning lasers to search for a level piece of ground that was structurally sound enough to support the weight of the Roc. He found a nice patch of scorched ground that appeared to have been a parking lot in a former life and dropped the landing struts. Next he disengaged the upper pads and reduced the power output of the lower pads by half. The ship began to slowly drop to the ground. Gabe appeared in the hatchway.

“What’s up, Boss? We quitting?”

A brilliant whitish-blue light bathed the **bleep**pit as the Omerta flew into view overhead. It was easily half again as long as the Roc, though somewhat more narrow. As usual, looking at his old ship always reminded Shi Xin of Captain Morpheus’s ship, the Nebuchadnezzar. It brought back painful memories of betrayal and lost friends. Shi Xin saw the Omerta circling around in the holographics.

A voice crackled over the ship-to-ship comm, “Rocinante, stand down. This is Captain Bokuro of the Omerta. I order you to power down your flare drives and open your forward cargo bay. Any unauthorized action will be prosecuted with prejudice.” There was no mistaking the command authority in his voice. Bokuro was someone who expected his orders to be obeyed.

Watching through the **bleep**pit window, Shi Xin saw the ship come back around and stop in front of them. He could see the belly gun on the Omerta swivel and lock into a fix on the Roc. Shi Xin grinned slightly, thinking Bokuro always did have a flare for the dramatic.

The Roc settled on the stone below it, crushing debris underneath the landing gear. The ship shuttered violently and groaned loudly as it eased its weight onto legs seldom used. As soon as it came to a stop, the pads scattered all over the hull, sometimes in tight clusters of three, sometimes alone, twisted and moved into their landing configuration. The white-blue electric charge dissipated and the flare drives went dark.

Shi Xin turned to see the whole crew standing behind his First Mate. “Warden, you stay here with Cable. If this goes . . . badly, take the Roc back home. The rest of you on me. Gabe, get them all outfitted. Nobody from that ship sets foot on my ship without my permission, understood?”

In unison, they replied “yes, Sir!” They backed down the hall, heading for the forward cargo bay. Shi Xin heard Track saying, “what do you think he meant by it going badly?” Jell-O said, “Stifle it, Track. Just do your job.”

Shi Xin turned to Cable. “If I don’t make it back, I’m counting on you to get her home in one piece.”

Cable looked up at him and said, “Forget you. Make it back. That’s all there is to that.” He turned, and moved away without looking back.

Shi Xin chuckled quietly to himself as he headed down to the forward cargo bay.

Okay, I wouldn't mind a little feedback! :smileysurprised:

Hate it? Love it? Should I stick to my day job?

Heh heh, like that would stop me . . .

Chapter 6

Two hundred meters away, the Omerta was touching down on a rough semi-cleared shelf of rock. The two ships sat facing one another like two strange cats settling down to stare at each other, not willing to let the other one out of its sight. The guns did not relax and neither did Shi Xin.

“All right, if there’s going to be a fight, lets take it to them,” he announced.

The crew of the Rocinante climbed down the cargo bay door that doubled as a ramp. Merc and Gabe had their electrostatic pulse guns shouldered, while everyone else were fingering knives and other accoutrements secreted away in their clothes. Shi Xin noticed Jell-O hobbling along with a cane. Her injuries had been rough, but he knew she had been healed by her meds. She was exaggerating her injuries to lull her opponents into a false sense of security. Shi Xin grinned inwardly, thinking he was glad she was on his side. Jell-O would be lethal with that cane, if it came to that.

They shuffled through the rocks and debris, kicking up clouds of ash and dust. At one point, while scanning the black sky, Shi Xin thought he saw what looked to be a sentinel floating through the sky, but it was too far to be certain. It could have been his imagination. The Machines didn’t like to see human activity on the surface. The dead real estate was jealously guarded territory, mostly for fear that there would arise another, rival city on the planet; a human city. Shi Xin decided to keep one eye on the sky, just to be safe.

They scrambled up the last steep hill just as the cargo door of the Omerta was beginning to descend. Shi Xin’s crew lined up on either side of him. No one was really brandishing a weapon, but neither were they exactly hidden from sight. They waited patiently as the door hit the rocky ground with a muffled thump that Shi Xin felt as much heard. Bokuro and his crew were standing on the deck of the cargo bay, looking completely unperturbed. Bokuro’s mouth quirked in a half-smile.

“Hello, old friend. It’s been a long time.” Bokuro’s clear voice rang out in the stillness of the surface air. The other crewmembers were glaring at Shi Xin and his crew as interlopers. Shi Xin recognized some of them; Amirah, Bourbon, Oblivions. The rest he did not know, but recognized by reputation. Karerune, Trayen, and Dischord had all come to the Omerta since Shi Xin had left. They had been making quite a name for themselves in the Matrix as thugs and enforcers of an outfit known as The Commission, a mafia-styled front for Merovingian operations. Shi Xin had heard that Trayen was next in line to skipper his own boat. 

Shi Xin looked at each of them, trying to measure their resolve. He had no doubt they were loyal to their captain: Bokuro would have no less.

“It has. You look well. It seems that life in the employ of the Merovingian has . . . agreed with you.” Shi Xin was smiling a bit too. He knew that if Bokuro intended an attack, he would have done so right away.

“It has its perks. Mostly no one running around telling you what to do, how to live, what to believe. But what about you? Still clinging to the half-truths and little white lies of the Idealists?” Bokuro was enjoying this, watching Shi Xin twist in the wind waiting for him to make the first move.

“Well, that’s the problem with choice, isn’t it? Some people choose to believe and some choose to remain ignorant. I chose to follow the teachings of the One. So did you, at one time.” Shi Xin wasn’t happy about the way this was going. It was forcing his hand far too quickly.

“We were at war then. Things are different now. Neo is dead. Morpheus is dead. The Fortune Teller has all but abandoned us. The only ones we can rely on is ourselves. Working for the Merovingian allows us to do just that.” Bokuro was staring at intently Shi Xin now. His old boss did not like his integrity being questioned, even by old friends. From the nervous glances at their captain and the sudden tenseness Shi Xin detected in Bokuro’s crewmates, they didn’t much care for it either.

Shi Xin knew he had to stop this from escalating. “We are not here to fight you, Bokuro. I wanted the opportunity to tell you my story and reason with you. Maybe even enlist your help.” There. It was out and Shi Xin would just have to hope it wasn’t falling on deaf ears. “The Oracle has summoned us, Bokuro. My entire crew has been asked to come.”

“My help. My help? You got a lot of nerve, Captain, after just putting my ship and crew in harm’s way with that little chase. Not to mention the fact that you walked out on us, abandoned your post, and left me and this ship dangling!” Bokuro’s voice had started to rise. He was breathing hard. When he began again, he was a little more calm. “Besides, both Zion and the Machines have a bounty on your head. I have a mind to collect it myself rather than let some Idealist idiot or Machine robot get all the loot. So, since I was fairly sure I knew where to find you, here we are.” Bokuro wore that half-smile again.

“I didn’t walk away and you know it. I was forced to leave, exiled by a crew that no longer wanted to go in the same direction as I and who wouldn’t take orders, not even from you.” Shi Xin was breathing heavily now, his shoulders slumped, weighted down with the memories of his friends turning on him out of envy and spite echoing in his head.

The two proud captains stood staring at each other for a full minute. In his peripheral vision, Shi Xin saw Track produce a knife from somewhere up his sleeve and start rolling it around in his hand. Bokuro’s eyes twitched in Track’s direction. Then they softened a bit. He seemed to relax somewhat.

“I regret the way you were treated on my ship, Shi Xin.” Bokuro’s voice sounded a touch saddened. “Bah! Those fools weren’t even decent Zion operatives. After you left, I took a long hard look at this ship and crew and made some changes. As you can see, no one save Oblivions survived my . . . housecleaning. But, . . . that is water under the bridge, now.” Bokuro walked down the ramp to stand in front of Shi Xin. “We were friends once. I would have your friendship again, if you will forgive me.” Bokuro held out his hand for a handshake.

“There is nothing to forgive you for, old friend,” said Shi Xin, a trifle shocked, as they clasped arms and gave each other a hard, brotherly hug. Shi Xin could see both crews relax. Except Jell-O, who would never let her guard down around people she didn’t trust. She reminded Shi Xin a lot of himself. Maybe a little too much so.

Oblivions walked up and gave Shi Xin a solid handshake. “Good to see you again, brother.” Bourbon came running over and grabbed Lumina up in a huge bear-hug. “HEY SUNSHINE, I’ve heard a lot about you! Want to see my cheese farm?” He sat the surprised Lumina down and ambled off to bear-hug someone else. Amirah simply nodded to him, and walked over to Track, punching him in the arm hard enough to make Shi Xin wince.

The two crews began mingling together, talking about Zion and trading news from the Merv and Machine sympathizer outposts and from inside the Matrix. Jell looked anxiously at her captain, and Shi Xin gave her a nod. She moved closer to him, distancing herself from the others who, with the help of Bourbon’s instigations, were beginning to get a little rowdy. Of course, anytime two hovercraft crews got together, it was always a loud affair.

Shi Xin eyed the steel-gray sky streaked with fat, black ribbons. There was no sign of the Sentinel he thought he saw earlier, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t around, spying on the two ships. If they got an inkling of who it was they were spying on, they would come in force. Shi Xin turned to Gabe and said, “Standard watch detail. Have the first watch set holographics to full range. And send Warden and Cable over, they both need a break.”

Bokuro was eying Jell-O appreciatively, knowing full well why she was standing there. He said, “The Rocinante has become a fine ship, Shi Xin. Far outstripping her namesake. Quite a crew, too. Apparently, their captain is doing something right.”

“It’s home. Yeah, they are as good a bunch as I’ve ever operated with.” Shi Xin turned to look at his ship. He rarely got the opportunity to see her from this angle.

“C’mon, think you remember where the galley is? Let’s go up and have the whole story about this insane quest of ours, and why the hell the Fortune Teller wants to see all of you? Then we’ll have a drink, toast our fallen friends, and tell **bleep**ty stories about each other until we pass out.” Bokuro was laughing at the end.

Shi Xin looked at him sideways, “Does that mean you’re going to help? There isn’t any profit in it for you.”

Bokuro feigned surprise, and tone turned mock-indignant,  “I am hurt that you would think of me that way!” He chuckled. “Plus cést change, plus cést la meme chose: the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Bokuro led them up the ramp, calling out to Trayen, “Tray! Bring out your finest wine for our guests.” To Shi Xin and Jell-O he added, “Makes it himself. Tastes like bug killer, but it does the trick. Kills brain cells and bugs.” They broke up at this, and walked into the cargo bay.

*          *          *

Some time later, a silent Bokuro was staring in disbelief at Shi Xin, having just heard the full story of Shi Xin’s mission, the Exile and the strange summons to the Oracle. “Bull**bleep**. You don’t actually believe that you’re going to be able to just fly into Zero One and interrogate a Machine? Those Zion EPN idiots must have you brainwashed. Or you’ve got the VDT’s or something. Are you suicidal?”

Trayen piped up then, saying, “By all accounts, Neo almost didn’t make it into the city himself. What makes you think you will?”

“Because I have a resource the One didn’t have when he went to the Machine City: The Oracle will tell us what we need to .” Shi Xin was staring levelly at Bokuro. The galley was crowded with every seat filled and it was standing room only around the table. Shi Xin could see that his initials were still carved into that table, across from where he was now sitting.

“What makes you think she knows? Or will help you?” Bokuro looked distrustful. “Just because she has summoned you, does not mean she'll give you anything to help you.”

At that moment, Zaina ran in through the hatchway. “Captain Bokuro, you have a call. It’s Seraph.”

Warden looked at Bokuro and asked, “Does that answer your question?”

Bokuro threw a non-committal humph in Warden’s direction and stood up. “Make a hole. Let’s not keep the old bag waiting.”

The crewmates who were standing next to the hatch turned and pressed up against the wall, making enough room for the two captains to exit the galley heading down the hallway. Shi Xin caught a glimpse of the **bleep**pit and noticed that nobody was watching the scanners. He started to say something about it, then thought better of it. This wasn’t his ship anymore.

They climbed down the ladder to the main deck, where Bokuro picked up the headset. “Yes? . . . I understand . . . We’ll be coming.” He took off the Operator’s headset and hung it on one of the monitors. Turning to Shi Xin, he said, “Well, what are we waiting for? She’s wants to tell us our fortunes.” Bokuro turned to Zaina. “Z, get us loaded up and jacked in.”

Chapter 7

The Matrix fell into place around them as they passed from the loading construct to the real simulation. It began with the room housing the hardline connection, where they now found themselves, and spread out in all directions like the ripple a stone makes when it is dropped into water. First, the floor connected to the walls, which then connected to ceilings and then the outer walls and the sidewalks and streets, and other buildings and, eventually, the rest of the world. All fell into place without even so much as a hiccup for those already here.

Shi Xin felt the familiar turn in his stomach that he experienced every time he tumbled into the ‘rabbit hole’. He knew it was his subconscious rejecting the falsity of the simulation, even though his senses were completely immersed in the little white lies of the machine-created virtual city. He could ‘smell’ the decay of the room they were standing in; apparently an old hotel room that hadn’t been used in decades. He could also ‘taste’ the oily, rancid air, permanently tainted by years of simulated traffic and digital garbage. And everywhere he looked here, everything was tainted with a green tinge, as if he was wearing green-tinted sunglasses. Compared to the richness and dark vibrancy of the world of the Real, the Matrix always seemed flat and washed out to Shi Xin. Of course, it could be just a biased projection of his imagination.

He looked around at the members of the two crews, watching the familiar routine as they readied themselves for a battle that may or may not ever come. He himself had nothing to ready as he had come unarmed this trip. He didn’t feel there would be a danger this time.

Shi Xin did not feel about the Matrix as his compatriots felt about it, that it was an inherently evil place. He simply thought of the Matrix as a tool, as a hammer is a tool. If the hammer is used to kill or terrorize a man, that action did not make the hammer evil. It simply made it an instrument of evil. This unorthodox philosophy of the Matrix undoubtedly sprang from his Chinese heritage and his adherence to the principles of Taoism. It also managed to alienate him from many of the die-hard idealists in Zion’s Operative Corps.

He knew the simulation was still a prison, but he also knew whose hand wielded the tool. The Machines, with their methodical exuberance to enslave the human race, their desire to fight cog and claw to keep every soul connected to the power plant. Shi Xin felt that such unrelenting fascism and single-mindedness would be their undoing in the end. He just hoped to be here to see it.

They filed out of what turned out to be an old school building, and down the rotting wooden steps to their awaiting vehicles. Several black Lincoln SUV’s were lined up at the back; awaiting the fulfillment of their purpose. Track climbed into the driver’s side of the lead car, with Lumina opposite him on the passenger side. Shi Xin climbed into the backseat behind Lumina, with Mercury and Jell-O beside him. Bokuro’s group split into two groups of three and got into their vehicles as well, preparing to follow Track.

“Where to, Lum?” asked Track jauntily.

“Moriah. To the courtyard in the Projects. It’s where I met her when I was first summoned.” Lumina was staring out the window, but Shi Xin could sense that she wasn’t watching the passerby. Her thoughts were turned inward and she seemed tense. He thought about asking her to tell him what had her so worried, but then thought better of it. If she thought the team was in jeopardy, she would say something.

“Moriah it is. I think I saw here there once, too. You know, legend has it that Neo saw her there once, after his fight with Seraph?” He was asking to see if anyone would confirm it, but if anyone had any thoughts on the subject they kept them to themselves. Track settled for silence and focused on driving the city streets.

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the project housing that surrounded their destination. As they exited the Lincolns, a few ravens that had been scattered about took flight in a cacophony. Bokuro walked over to stand by Shi Xin.

“We’ll wait here and make sure there are no . . . intrusions.” He looked to Amirah and Trayen, who immediately bounded into the air twenty-five stories straight up to land on the roof of the nearest building. Shi Xin faintly heard the concussion of the concrete pulverizing under the force of their landing. From the rooftop vantage point, they would have a good vantage point to see what was happening inside and outside the courtyard.

Shi Xin turned to his friends. “Let’s not keep her waiting any longer.” They walked to the door and entered, coats flapping in the wind.

*          *          *

The sun was low on the horizon when Shi Xin’s crew entered the courtyard. Long shadows were cast about haphazardly as the light bounced and reflected off of every angle and plane. The height of the crumbling buildings surrounding the courtyard kept the sun from shining directly in. Instead, there was a kind of glow to the place that would linger even after the sun had gone down.

The courtyard’s only indigenous inhabitants, a flock of large pigeons, had congregated around a bench at the center of the courtyard. The bench was occupied by the only other beings there. Shi Xin knew one of them. The other must be the little girl that Lumina told them about. A glance at Lumina confirmed his suspicion as she nodded in acknowledgment.

“Well, come around here where I can get a good look at all of you. Come on, now, we aren’t going to bite.” The Oracle’s voice was different, and yet . . . the same.

They filed around the end of the bench, sending the pigeons scurrying and flying away, until all of them stood in front of it.

She turned to the little girl. “Sati, will you go and get the cookies I left with Seraph, please? Tell him to use the large platter in the cupboard.” The little girl, Sati, stood up. Her white clothes looked impossibly clean for the dirty courtyard. After a reproachful look at Shi Xin and company, she ran off to the building that they had just come out of.

“Well, well. Look at all of you. A right good crew you’ve become, or so I hear the others tell it. It seems you found who you were looking for after all, eh Shi Xin?” The Oracle looked nothing like what she had when Shi Xin had first met her, but that was not entirely unexpected; he had heard the story of the Merovingian’s move to take control of her functions. And then there was the business with the Smith Virus.

The Oracle got up from her bench and moved to stand in front of Track. “Not what you expected, Mr. Track? Well, **bleep** for tat, you grew more than I expected as well.” A small grin lit her lined face, and her eyes opened wider causing her forehead to crease. “In fact, I would say that it won’t be long before you have your own crew, although I suspect the news will come as somewhat of a shock to you.”

Indeed it was, as apparent from Track’s dangling jaw. Shi Xin suppressed a chuckle. The Oracle could have that effect on people. Shi Xin thought about what his crew would be like without Track, but it wasn’t exactly a sad thought; he was happy for his driver. Track was a good operative and Shi Xin had always known that Track had the right stuff to skipper a ship of his own.

The Oracle walked up to Lumina, who had dropped her eyes. She cupped Lumina’s chin in her hand, raising Lumina’s eyes to meet hers, and said softly, “Still fighting your nature, child? I told you, it wasn’t a matter of “if” but rather “when”. I’m afraid it’s too late now, though. You’ve made your choice, and even though you don’t understand it, that won’t change the path you must now walk. If it is any consolation, my dear, I’m sorry.” By the time the Oracle had finished, Lumina’s chin was touching her chest and her shoulders were slumped in defeat.

“What’s going to happen to her, Oracle? As her captain, she’s my responsibility. If something bad is going to happen, I want to know how to help her.” Shi Xin could not stand by while one of his people was obviously undergoing tremendous stress.

“Nothing you can do anything about, Shi Xin.” The Oracle faced him squarely; her black eyes burned into him, into his heart. Her tone had turned cold and mechanical. Shi Xin had never seen or heard of the Oracle acting this way to a human. “But you are right in accepting your responsibility for her.” Lumina sobbed out loud. Jell-O moved to comfort her, but as soon as Lumina felt Jell’s arm on her shoulders, she pulled away, walking to the edge of the courtyard.

“Your choices are the reason we all find ourselves here, at the brink of a new era of suffering for the human race.”

Track blurted out, “Who’s going to die, Oracle? If I get to vote, I say take . . .”

“I cannot tell you that, Track, because the person who does isn’t ready to face it yet. They will do what they are here to do, without any interference from me.” she said. Then she smiled, slightly. “But I can tell you that it won’t be you.”

Shi Xin blinked. He was surprised by the Oracle’s words. “I thought you, of all people, would understand why I’m doing this. The Machines must be made to return Neo’s remains to us. To the people he saved so that we may put them in a holy place. You know this. Morpheus knew this. He believed it so strongly, he died for it.”

“Oh, I understand why you choose the path. And I agreed with Morpheus. And with you. But when last we met, I cautioned you that patience was the key to you fulfilling your purpose and succeeding in your quest. Instead, you have abandoned patience and have acted recklessly. It was not yet time to begin this undertaking, because you are not ready for the answers. Your impetuousness has now started a chain reaction that has no end in sight, save one: it will result in the Machines building a new prison for Men. And this prison, your fellow man will go willingly into. It will be the end of the Peace between Men and Machines and the end of Zion, as you now know it.”

The revelation was like a gut shot to Shi Xin. He could scarcely believe what the Oracle was telling him. I will be the father of the fall of Zion? How can this be happening? She must be wrong!

Before he could ask, Jell-O asked for him. Her voice carried a hint of anger when she said, “How can that be? Shi Xin is only doing what is right. Right for us, and right for Zion. He means no harm.”

“Child,” the old program slowly sat herself back down on the bench, “throughout your own history, many a war was started by those who “meant no harm” and were only doing what they thought right.” The Oracle’s voice had softened somewhat, but now she seemed tired. Shi Xin could only stare at her dumbly.

Jell-O said defiantly, “You’re nothing but another program of the system, trying to control us. The Machines use you to herd us in the direction they want! Why should we care or trust what you say is the truth?” Jell was breathing hard and her face was flushed. Her shouting did not faze the Oracle in the least. She nodded, as if she had been expecting it.

“I don’t expect anything of you, child, except for you to make up your own **bleep** minds. Believe me or don’t. Trust me or don’t.” Shi Xin looked up to see a smiling Sati returning with the cookies. “It really doesn’t matter one way or another, you have already begun down the path. What I called you here for was to help you finish this mission with as little bloodshed as possible.”

She looked at Shi Xin again. “Shi Xin, the path you seek will not be easy. In the end, you will walk it alone. In order to ask the questions you want to ask, you must gain access to Zero-One. But, to access the Machine city, you will need to be a Machine. That is the Law. Only the Merovingian can help you with that. Be prepared for the price you must pay; it will be dear, I’m afraid. One of your crew will not see the end of the path. And your quest will not end with the answers you seek.”

She paused and looked at Sati, reaching up to gently pat the little girl’s face. She turned to them. “I want you to give a message to your Zion brethren. It is time for me to leave the Matrix. My functions will soon be passed to one who is newer and is less bound by the past.” Again she looked at Sati. “Before I go, though, know this. I have one task to complete before I leave the Matrix for the last time; I must prepare the way for the Return of the One. Only he will be able to restore the balance and bring peace everlasting. Seek not his coming, for it will not happen in your lifetimes, or your children’s lifetimes. But know that, when he is needed most, the salvation of Zion will return.”

When she finished, she stood up. “Now, I hate being the bearer of bad news. So, I have baked these cookies just for you all. Take one and you’ll feel better, I promise. In fact, by the time you’ve finished it, you’ll feel right as rain.” Sati sat the plate on the bench, then turned and ran to catch up with the Oracle. They entered the building, but not before Sati glanced back to them one more time. Only this time, she was smiling. Shi Xin, taking another bite of his cookie, thought it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. It made him smile in spite of himself.

Chapter 8

Shi Xin walked out of the run-down apartment building as the sun was starting to slip below the horizon. The street lamps were just warming up and he could see lights snapping on in many of the windows of the surrounding buildings. It seemed they had been in the courtyard longer than he would have credited. Crickets were beginning to sing their eerie, other-worldly song and lightning bugs were lazily blinking their luminescence in the gathering darkness.

The chagrinned captain tried to take stock of himself and his crew. They were all obviously shaken by the Oracle’s revelations; none more so than him. Save Lumina, of course. She was still crying; she must not have eaten a cookie. He wanted to know what had upset her so. This was way beyond the agitation she had displayed on the trip here. But he also knew that when she was ready, she would tell him the story. Trying to ply Lumina for information before she was ready was as effective as getting a tiger to change his stripes. He was content to wait on her, but he would watch her closely in the meantime.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he pondered the Oracle’s words, her phrases, examining everything for hidden meanings or clues that could help him figure out just what the **bleep** had just transpired. He could not fathom why she had been so harsh and unfeeling. Even she had once felt that the freedom of the human race was worth the ultimate sacrifice. Perhaps she felt that with the Peace coming to an end, Neo’s effort had all been made in vain? Shi Xin suddenly had an epiphany. Who am I to save the world? I’m no Morpheus, and I’m sure as hell not the One, he thought. Maybe that’s why the Oracle was angry. It was obvious that she felt as though Shi Xin had taken more responsibility than had been granted him. Maybe she thought he was rising above his place.

Shi Xin’s brow suddenly furrowed deeper. He thought about what Jell-O had said, about the Oracle being only another form of control. She is only a program. I am the master here. Human beings are not slaves. Neo belongs in Zion, and by God I will put him there if it takes my last breath to make it so! Shi Xin would continue to do what he thought best for Zion and the world. Regardless of what the Oracle had said about timing, it was time for the Machines to answer for their irreverence, one way or the other. It was time for a Reckoning.

But . . . what had Shi Xin strongly doubting himself was the matter of his crew. How could he push this quest knowing full well it was going to get someone killed?

Jell-O must have been reading his mind, for she said, “You cannot know whether this path or that path will lead to getting someone . . . hurt. She only said it would result from your actions. That implies that it will happen regardless of what you choose; she has already seen it happen.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Skipper, it’s a hell of a thing. But I don’t see how it can be avoided. Besides, we all know what the score is.”

Shi Xin nodded and put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. It was his way of saying thanks; one she understood completely.

Bokuro and Trayen were waiting for them. As Shi Xin approached, Bokuro said, “We’ve got trouble. Your operator called me ten minutes ago and said to tell you that ‘he was being hit on the head?’” Bokuro stared at Shi Xin blankly. “I assumed it must be code for something. Do you know what he was talking about?”

For the second time in as many hours, Shi Xin felt as though he had been sucker punched in the gut.

“It means we need to mount up and get back to the ship. The Hammer is coming in hot. Roland is on his way.” Shi Xin knew that he did not need to explain to Bokuro why that was important. Everyone knew that Captain Roland of the HvCft Mjolnir was the top operative of Zion’s Operative Corps, in effect making him the commanding officer of all Zion operatives. Warden’s coded message meant he had picked up the Mjolnir, also known in ancient Norse mythology as the name of the mighty hammer of Thor, the Thunder God, on the long-range sensors. If Roland caught up to them, it would mean the Stockade for sure.

Bokuro began to bark orders. “Trayen, Jell-o, get everyone moving now. Amirah, call Zaina and see if she can get a hack on a closer hardline. Bourbon, you and Merc here take point, and if anything even twitches, kill it. Let’s go people; I want to be standing on the Omerta’s main deck in ten minutes. . .”

He trailed off as a black sedan came to a screeching halt in front of the Lincolns, grayish-white smoke wafting from the tires into the orange glare of the sodium arc lamps. Three tall men in identical dark suits with sunglasses and earpieces stepped out of the black sedan and looked in tandem toward the group that had been moving quickly toward the SUV’s. The operatives froze in their tracks.

“Oh **bleep**. Should we split?” Trayen didn’t sound worried, but resigned, as if he had been expecting this or something very like it. Everybody was looking to their captains for the next move. Shi Xin knew there wasn’t much hope of surviving an attack by three Agents, and with the bounty on his crew he didn’t really care to call for help from other operatives in the area. But . . . there was some thing different about this encounter. Shi Xin realized that the Agents were alone. No Swat, no officers, no backup of any kind. That was not standard operating procedure for the Machines when dealing with such a large group. They always brought a full contingent of troops, ready to blast the **bleep** out of anything that they were ordered to kill.

The tallest of the Agents had already covered more than half the distance between the car and Shi Xin. He looked . . . harder than the other two, and carried more of an air of authority than any other Agent Shi Xin had seen.

“Mister Chan. I must say that I am a bit surprised to find you leading this group of malcontents. I have to admit I thought I was up against a more worthy opponent.”

The other Agents stopped a little short of the group. They did not appear any more threatening by just standing there. Or any less, for that matter. The lead Agent continued on toward them, inexorably closing the distance, causing some of the others to fall back a little. Shi Xin did not flinch, nor did Bokuro or Trayen, although they shot anxious glances at Shi Xin. They had all faced Agents before, and while the experience was never pleasant, it never lasted long either. But everyone was wondering why they were all just standing here, waiting for the killing to start. If he had been asked, Shi Xin would have been hard pressed to explain why he felt compelled to hear what this program had to say.

“I am somewhat impressed with you and your cohorts, however, Mister Chan. Usually, when we appear, you people bolt like **bleep**roaches at the first sign of a light. But, not this time. No, this time, you are standing your ground, filled with purpose and resolve. It is quite a sight, foolhardy though it is.” Important Agent was smiling slightly.

“Obviously, you’re wondering why we aren’t already attempting to destroy you, a question that may or may not be answered soon enough. In fact, the outcome of this encounter is entirely up to you Mister Chan. But first, before I present you with your options” he took a look around at everyone “I wanted to impress upon you the importance of your predicament.”

The Lesser Agents stood unmoving a little further away. Important Agent seemed to be enjoying the control he had over this situation. Shi Xin was content to let him maintain the illusion of control. For the time being, anyway.

“Unlike my associates, and the other agents you have encountered before, I am a little different. A little more . . . structured, if you will. My programming is based on that of my predecessor, but it has been modified to provide me greater discipline and restraint. Both attributes are necessities in this, the brave new world of peace and harmony. With these parameters securely in place, I can never reach the quantum critical mass that my predecessor achieved. Such discipline, such restraint gives me more options, more tools with which to deal with whatever circumstances present.” The Agent paused momentarily, to remove his glasses and clean them.

Shi Xin could scarcely believe what he was seeing or hearing. “I will be damned. You’re a Smith. You’re an Agent Smith!” It was true, he looked somewhat like Agent Smith, but he was different; Shi Xin could see it now that he was closer. Deeper lines in the face, smaller forehead, and a little less nose; all these features told of another face that was similar, but not the same. Everyone started to back away until the Smith look-alike spoke again. It was a testament to the discipline of the two crews that they didn’t run screaming in every direction as soon as Shi Xin named him. The havoc that the Smith Virus had wreaked upon the Matrix was legendary. Even now, mothers were back in Zion telling their children about the boogeyman named Smith that could be waiting in their closet.

“Not Smith, Mister Chan, Jones. Agent Jones. My appearance is different, and I assure you that I am somewhat more gifted when it comes to human – machine relationships. But there is some truth to your statement. I am patterned on the Smith program, containing some of his code and replicating some of his intuitiveness and behaviors. But I don’t have quite the sentience he had. I believe that is what led to his demise. He became egotistical. Then he became something else, something we have yet to classify. I am the Director of the Agency, Mister Chan, but I am not my predecessor.”

Every operative on the ground was now thoroughly puzzled. Where they going to fight, or not?

“Why the hell are you telling us this? Is this some kind of bizarre Machine ego trip?” Ten minutes ago, Shi Xin thought he had just concluded the strangest conversation he had ever had. He was now convinced that conversation didn’t hold a candle to the insanity of this one.

“As the Director of the Agency, my chief responsibility is to maintain the Peace, irrelevant as it may be. You and your lackeys have broken the covenant for that Peace. However, the actual offenders are those two.” He pointed at Jell-O and Lumina.

“Here’s the part where you make the choice about how this comes out, Mister Chan. On the one hand, you can agree to hand over these two transgressors into our custody. My Superiors wish to make an example of them in front of all the Sleepers for the sake of the Peace, and then they will be retired.”

Shi Xin lowered his head, not about to make eye contact with anyone, lest he give something away. He was thinking furiously about his options. His real options, of course, and not the ridiculous flap coming from Agent Jones. His rage was building, however, and it was threatening to get out of control soon.

“On the other hand, Mister Chan, you can choose to fight us, and thereby condemn everyone here to certain death. The choice, as they say, is yours.”

Shi Xin smiled. He realized that there was no choice here. Besides, he thought he already knew the outcome, thanks to the Oracle.

..::Edit Double Post-Yay Edit!::..