Hardline: Chapter 1 Part 1

Techbot

There are still some typos and maybe the odd hole in the story. I would like to change the names of the Zionites to people I meet in the game.

Any constructive criticisms are welcome.

Thanks to Sillis for proofreading.

Bluepill: Rob St. John (aka DJ Techbot)
Redpill: The Techbot
Faction: Chateau guards (Merovingian)

HARDLINE

10:00 pm. The streetlights outside are already on. The sun has long since dipped behind the skyscrapers. St.John sits up slowly and rubs his eyes. He puts his feet to the ground inches away from the sleeping dog. The dog awakes immediately. Totally alert, it looks at its owner and awaits the daily evening ritual. Left lays undisturbed, oblivious as St.John and Sausage leave the room and head downstairs for breakfast. She turns, murmurs something, and continues in her slumber.

Washed and dressed St.John checks his small semi-automatic pistol and stuffs it in the back of his pants. He dons his trademark beret and picks up two heavy metallic cases and leaves the apartment. The dog has gone back to sleep.

Downtown he swaps a package with one of the local mafia boys and grabs another subway to Club Hell.

"Where the f*** have you been?" shouts Phiz the nightclub manager, when he enters the club.

"The laptops haven't arrived! The lights haven't been fixed and we've got important people coming here tonight, including the owner. I don't want anything to go wrong", the little man emphasized the word accusingly.

St.John ignores him and walks straight towards the small DJ cubicle. He places one of the large boxes onto a bench, opens the box moving the package out of view and takes out a small drum machine and several old records.

**************************************************

The lights pulsated; video screens behind him sped through eclectic collages of fractals and news footage, animals mating and volcanic explosions.

Laser beams sliced the air in half. Bodies half hidden in silhouette, gyrated in time to the music. Steam rose from the crowd.
St.John tweaked a few knobs, pushed some sliders and the crowd grew to fever pitch.

The dancers see themselves and the creation of their subculture as part of the overall fractal equation for the post-modern experience. Phase locking brings the participants - be they atoms, cells or human beings- into linked cycles that promote the creation of a single, interdependent organism where feedback and iteration can take place immediately and effectively. A phase locked group begins to take on the look of a fractal equation, where each tiny part reflects the nature and shape of the larger ones.

The ultimate phase locking occurs in the dance itself, hundreds of "like minded" young people play out their cultures tribal ceremonies. The dance links everyone together in the same circadian rhythm, dancing to the same 120bpm soundtrack. They are fully synchronized.

The bass is killed at the flick of a switch and obediently the video grows dark.
The drums fade away.
Slowly the music dies.
A note… a drone, barely audible emerges. The noise increases. The acid tones screech. And boom the drums kicks back in and the crowd goes nuts.

St.John grinned. He picked up one of the records from the box and placed it on one of the decks. Gently he faded from laptop to record player. The tunes merged effortless and seamlessly. He took a back step then ducked out of the dj box. By the booth he lit another cigarette, and coughed.

"Well? Did you get it?"

Zippy Da Squirrel stood waiting patiently with his arms folded, leaning against the wall.

Zippy was the leader of one of the more secret gangs around. St.John had only met him a few times but he appeared not to be a man to mess with, regardless of the name he went by.

St.John nodded affirmatively. There was no point in talking, as his voice would have never beaten the sound of the music. St.John was not a man to shout. It took too much effort.

"Finish your smoke first, Bluepill, da? Good… I'm in no hurry."

St.John inhaled and held his breath, then slowly exhaled savoring the bitter taste.
He ducked back into the booth and removed the package from the record box. Opened it again to check that the little devices were all still in tact and replaced the lid before exiting.

"You put on a good show tonight da? The Merovingian is impressed."

“Who?”

"De Frenchman, This is his party .He owns this place, da?”

Despite gigging in this venue St.John had never met the owner, no need. St.John was a professional both as a dj and as a courier. Instructions were generally simple and St.John rarely if ever needed clarification.

I'm impressed, thought St.John. This place is not cheap; I'm not cheap. And they aren't paying guests.

Club Hell was the most exclusive and expensive club in town, that could easily add up to a couple of million.

He extended his hand to pass over the package.
"No. Not me, he wants to meet you, da? To congratulate you on a fine performance."

The squirrel’s hands remained in the pockets of his trademark green suit.

"Sure, I thought the package was for you but it’s always nice to meet a potential new customer."

"In all probability my friend, it is quite possible that the Merovingian has been your only customer."

They moved up to the balcony areas reserved for VIPs. Da Squirrel walked ahead and whispered into the ear of a finely dressed man. His head was tilted so as to prevent St.John from hearing.

"Ah, welcome!" laughed The Merovingian in an unmistakable French accent.
Sitting at what was obviously the best table, a beautiful, thin, dark haired lady by his side, picking idly at her food.

"So you are the Tech…" he said in a light hearted manner.
"Come sit, this is my wife Penelope." He pointed to the beautiful lady. She did not look up.

The Tech sat down. He liked the Frenchman’s humour.

"So, your music! Tell me about it." The Merovingian put his elbow on the table and stared into the Tech’s face, completely at ease, non-threatening.

"The drums, the rhythms," he answered, happy to talk about his output, "are basically ancient tribal ones mimicked using more moderns sounds while the notes and melodies are computer generated algorithms I created."

"Wonderful! How quaint. Little machines making music! How ideally wonderful!"
The Frenchman seemed genuinely amused.
"Now pass the package to me colleague here. Eh Mr.Spooks."

He called over one of his hairy goons. Most likely a bodyguard, thought St.John.

Once again St.John attempted to hand over the box.

Several things happened at once. Explosions from what appeared to be everywhere sent body parts flying through the air. Four people all dressed in black jumped from the dance floor below to the balcony where St.John hunched. Over on one knee, St.John covered his head with his hands. They landed nimbly on the table where a few seconds previous the Frenchman has sat.

But not now. He was nowhere to be seen.

****************************************

Beside St.John lay the dead body of Mr.Spooks, the package in his lifeless hand. Two of the goons began running up the wall.

St.John was a man already deeply involved in the underground. As a DJ he was a regular at the most expensive of parties and this made him a perfect dealer amongst the various factions who would not normally trade together.
Always alert.
He had seen a lot of things that made him suspicious.

They were running up the walls and nobody paid a blind bit of notice.
They began shooting at the four stood on top of the tables. Instantly each of the four somersaulted off the table, each in a different direction.

St.John reached for his gun, and stuffed the package inside his jacket, slowly crept towards the stairs as more explosions and eight, maybe ten more black dressed warriors jumped from the floor below onto the balcony tables. They were followed by Zippy and several other people he hadn't seen before who must have been in the crowd. Electricity and bullets whizzed through the air. Tables of food exploded.

He made it to the bottom of the stairs, the hallway was empty. St.John had played in this club many a time. He knew to his left led back into the dance room but to his right, he had never been.

He took to his right and hurried, his gun before him, down the unknown corridor. Taking the next left he pushed open a door to find himself exiting the building and out onto the street. His apartment merely round the corner. The street was well lit, with benches on either side of the phone booth.

******************************************************************************

He cautiously stepped out taking in all around him. The street was deserted. He moved towards a small alleyway.

At that moment a blinding light appeared from the phone box.

From nowhere with lightning speed a foot kicked the guns from his hand and set him reeling, sending the box sailing through the air. The small knife-like objects bounced off the wall as St.John hit the floor. St.John, dazed, picked up one of the devices as he tried to stand.

Unknowingly’ he pressed a small button on other device that sent an invisible, unknown energy wave against the stranger that sent him to the ground.

The stranger choked, she held her hand on her throat, struggling to breath.

"...the antidote."

Huh?

First, men climbing walls, then people traveling trough phones and jumping two stories and now invisible viruses and antidotes.

St.John tried to make sense of it all. He knew there where some big pieces from the jigsaw missing but he didn't realise just how big the gap was.

He didn't like it.

St.John’s ability to run his business depended on being in the know and he was missing something. Whether it was mystical or cosmic magick or some kind of technology from outer space, didn't matter to him. He wanted his piece.

"Reverse the switch and press the button again, I need the antidote."
Tress gasped for breath.

"I tell you what ", said The Tech, standing now, examined the small device in his hand. He knelt down and whisper into the stranger’s ear.

“If you are still alive in twenty minutes, I'll give you the antidote. I'll be back shortly".

St.John ducked into the darkness as easily as he ducked into his booth.

Minutes later he arrived at his apartment.
Left wasn't there. Still at work.
The dog yapped.

He left the house and was quickly back by the fallen stranger.
He picked him up and moved him over to the public phone on the blind side of the street corner.

"I'm reckoning that’s how I didn't see you the first time. You came out of that phone like the others. And now you are going to send both of us. I like the idea of being able to travel by phone."

St.John propped the wounded warrior up against the phone booth.

"That’s not the way it works," said the warrior, almost unconscious.

"What works…? Come on, if you want the antidote you’re gonna have to take me."

"It's not that simple. " The warrior struggled to speak.
"There’s a cell phone in my pocket, use it contact my operator… quickly."

St.John flipped open the cell phone. Maybe he was crazy.
He didn't have a clue what he was doing but it felt right, he thought.

“Hello operator.”

"Put it to my ear."
"Trek, it's me I've been hit with some kind of virus. He won't give me......"

A flash of lightening and two more warriors stood by the phone. One rushed to his friend’s aid, the other turned towards St.John.

"We need the antidote," she said.

“He's been hit by an RSI virus…never mind, we need the antidote."

"Its not here," answered St.John.

"I hid it. You show me how to travel through the phone lines and I will give you the antidote."

"You don't understand it would take weeks to show you properly, your muscles would need to be un-atrophied."

"Huh I'll take your word for it. How long has he got before the virus kills him?"

"Who knows? I've never seen one like this before, it looks like a malfunction," said the third stranger who was examining St.John’s would-be attacker.

"Then we better get start" St.John insisted.

The medical warrior flipped open a cell phone, whispered, and seconds later two more Warriors exited from the phone booth.

"Can she jack out?"

"No, the virus is fast. If Tress jacks out now, it will kill her."

"Ok. Take her to a safe house"

"You. Come with us"

Techbot

*****************************************

The three walked ahead without a word between them, without looking at him . They headed towards one of the more dilapidated buildings.
They quickly entered and moved upstairs to a small, disheveled room with computer terminals and old motherboards strewn across the floor.

"Quickly. In the back. We'll dispense with the formalities. Take this pill."

"Huh…I expected a bluepill."

"Not for you honey," Latifah said. "You are a blue pill. At least, you were. "

The Tech swallowed the pill.

"So this will enable me travel through the phone line?"

"You are playing with the big boys now.
What did you expect?
Sit down and relax."

St.John sat.

"We got him. Easy enough, this time."

Seconds later, The Tech felt his stomach being turned inside out as he got sucked into the chair. Down the rabbit hole he fell, as his soul scream out voicelessly, in terror.
He splashed into darkness and swallowed bitter tasting water. Terrified he couldn't tell up from down and flailed his limbs wildly.

A huge claw fastened around his torso as he passed out.

*******************************

"Where did you hide the anti-virus code?"

Hours passed, maybe days. The question was repeated by some bodiless voices.

The lights hurt his eyes, he couldn't move his muscles.

He struggled to remember, to think, to resist.

"Listen, we are your friends. This is not the way we normally do things, but it can all be sorted. We know you didn't mean to trigger the virus."

Friends huh. Friends don't force somebody down some sewer pipe hidden into a chair. Friends don’t drown somebody or drug and torture them for days.
Was it days… Or weeks?

*********************************

The Tech woke up in a cell. He sat up, half expecting to step on his dog as he put his feet on the cold floor. Judging by the low hum, he reckoned he was on some kind of boat or submarine.

His body ached and his head throbbed. He placed his fingertips on a circular metal object on the back of his neck. What have they done to me, he thought, envisioning some kind of brain-memory extraction experiment.

The door opened and one of the three guards he had met at the phone booth entered.
Unarmed.
She sat on a stool opposite him.

"I see you are somewhat better."

"What in god’s name did you do to me!"

"It wasn't us that did this to you, you have to believe me. We undid it. We didn't want to but it’s the only way you would agree to give us the antidote."

"And did I? Give you the antidote?"

"No. You didn't. We didn't torture you if that's what you think. We had to un-atrophy your muscles as I had warned you. You were heavily drugged for your own good. But we must have the Antidote soon. Tress will not last much longer."

Latifah look at The Tech for an answer.

"Well then if I didn't already give the location to the antidote then the deal still stands.
Set me free off this boat, show me the telephone trick and I'll give you the antidote."

"You are one cold machine." She smiled, sort of.
That’s me. I'm the Techbot.

***********************

Twenty minutes later. They were in the hovercraft’s construct. He nervously touched the back of his head every few moments, nothing there.

".......so" she ended. "It's not just traveling through telephones. End program."

Techbot opened his eyes and jolted forward. He took a deep breath and composed himself.
He was back on the hovercraft. He leaned back into the chair and exhaled.

"Anybody got a cigarette?"

*******************************************************

He stood beside the phone where it all began. Two of the hovercraft team stood to each side. The entrance to the club stood beside.

So familiar yet so different.

“You guys wait here. This is a restricted zone. And it’s Merovingian territory. We don't need any trouble. If you want them to help get Niobe back. They won't know I've red pilled if they see me.”

"Are you joking?! One look at your purple face and anyone would know you've red pilled!"

"Oh yeah"

He tagged the hardline and downloaded his old Fedora

“This should do the trick. At least I don't dress like you guys.”

"True, " Latifah said. "Anyone would mistake you for one of the Merovingian’s men."

******************************************************

He quickly moved down the streets, ducked into an alley, backtracked and headed back in the direction of his home. Once he arrived he found Left sitting in front of one of their computer terminals.

St.John watched her from behind as she navigated the virtual space of cyberia.

"TB", she exclaimed, "Where have you been? What happened your face?"

He grinned.

"It's a tattoo. They are the latest trend. Listen, I don't have time to explain, but we've hit the jackpot."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You *poop*, what have you been up to?, Is this something to do with The Matrix"

"No, at least I don't think so. But to be honest I don't really know." He didn't lie lying to her but how could he possibly tell her. "Listen dear. I didn't plan it. I was kidnapped. It was all very strange. But it's gonna be ok." He felt more comfortable at least that part was true, well almost, from a certain perspective. It was what he had thought. " I need you to contact someone, Zippy.

" Zippy Da Squirrel? Whets he got to do with this? Did he kidnap you? "

Left and Techbot were a team. While he did the wheeling and dealing. She manned the computer terminals. Together they worked the town, providing information and other services, at a price. The mafia, the yakuza, the various religious and street gangs of which there were many. Anybody with money was a respected client.
And business was good. Since the disappearance of the two hackers Neo and Trinity, gangs and other organisations seemed to be popping up everywhere. add to this the general mayhem that Morpheus the terrorist was causing meant the two were never in short supply of work. Techbot's front as a DJ made it very easy for him to meet with clients without causing suspicion or annoyance amongst the other factions.

"No he didn't kidnap me in fact he probably saved my life. You will have to meet him in person, even if you do evade all trace attempts, he may not be totally amenable. You will have to convince him that this is a good business deal.

**********************************************

"And why should I help your Man, my dear, I saved his life once already and he failed to deliver the package and now he is attempting to help a Zionist, da? Don't look so surprised I know everything that goes on around here. So St.John is now a redpill, da?"

Zippy was no ordinary man, but a hardened redpill, who was well used to having guns pointed at him. He could probably take the gun from her, but he was interested in what she had to say.

"No, he didn't." Left answered calmly. She lowered the gun that was barely an inch from his ear.
"Your man Mr.Spooks took it in the chest from shrapnel after TB passed it over. And anyway he still has them. He hid them separately from the one that was used. When he delivers the antidote and his deal with the Zionites is complete, he wishes to initiate a new deal with you and your French friend."

"um well. I'm, listening da?", Zippy was genuinely amused. St.John and this bluepill were quite a pair. He like St.John and had no issues regarding his services to date. And what she said was true. St.John had delivered the virus code. Not only that he still had them. Yes quite the pair these two.

His new deal with you is this. Rescue me from the hovercraft I am on and you get the code. Personally I have no idea what that means but again I assume it is code.
He said you would understand."

"Oh…um…Da. I do understand. Hmmmmmm. Yes. You may tell him that we will proceed. Niobe has been freed, this is a perfect time to negotiate a trade."

Redpills, hovercrafts, Left had no idea what St.John and Da Squirrel were talking about. But Niobe she had come across in here travels through cyberspace. Niobe is, was, a hacker. Somehow connected with Neo, Trinity and Morpheus. So this IS something to do with the matrix.

She would return to their little HQ and resume her efforts to hack into the Megacorp mainframe.

*********************************

St.John returned to the hardline and grinned at the two Zionites. He waved the virus code device at them like a child showing of a new toy. The Zionites were not impressed.

"Ok, lets go," they turned and headed in the direction of the safe house.

They climbed the rotten staircase and entered the room. Two smartly dressed Zionites stood over Tress who lay huddled on the ground shivering. They held various devices and attachments with which they analysed their fallen comrade.

"Give me the antidote," ordered one of the Zionites.

The Techbot threw the device gently to the Zionite and stood back. The four began attaching the various devices while one of them reversed the switch on the device and pressed the little button.

unnoticed the Techbot stepped back into the other room and flipped his cell phone.

"Beam me up Scotty!"

*************************

Seconds later he sat forward on the chair. The various members of the crew sat unmoving, still jacked into the Matrix.

Techbot quickly moved to the weapons holder, removed one of the giant guns and moved to the forward area. Trax sat engrossed in the code while Chopper flew the hovercraft.

“Trax, stand up," ordered the Techbot.

"Chopper!! Stop the craft, I'm pointing a gun at Trax and I really don't want to hurt him. But this is the only way."

"*CENSORED*?" Chopper turned but when he saw the gun pointing at his brother he did not leave the pilot’s seat.

"Nobody need get hurt. Is that understood?" Techbot asked.
"If I didn't have a gun you wouldn't listen to me, so it is you guys who have forced me into this. Another hovercraft will be arriving shortly and I will be leaving on it. Tress is gonna be fine, but I want to be free of this."

"Ok," said Chopper believing the Techbot was suffering from redpill mania.
"Don't to anything stupid".

He turned to face the controls and killed the engines and gently lowered the craft.

"See, now we are stopped, you can drop the gun."

"Ok now send out this message, short range........."

***********************************

Fifteen minutes, Chopper was astonished to notice an incoming craft belonging to the traitors. The Techbot moved to the hatch and opened it, without turning his back on the two.
He powered down the gun and handed it to Trax.

He exited the ship.
The hatch opened and a hand was extended.

"Welcome, Techbot. I'm 7Dragoons. This is the Hovercraft Solaris."

************************************************

After The Techbot was shown to his quarters he lay on the bed provided and thought about what lay ahead.

What had he done? Was this going to turn out the way he planned? Would it be worth it? How many hours would he have to spend on the ship in order to be able to stay in the Matrix?

An hour later 7D popped his head in.

"Come on this place is depressing. Let’s jack into the Matrix. We can talk there. It’s a lot more fun."

****************************************

They stood on the corner of Uriah Southwest, a hangout area for Redpills.

"Later, you can meet Zippy at the Chateau. But for know I teach you how to use your newfound knowledge.”

7Dragoons took him through the various procedures.

"I like the dual machine guns, hehe."

"Wait till you see the Chateau. It's pretty cool.
It was originally a malfunctioning program for a house in one of the previous incarnations or maybe a construct…I don't really know.
But the difference is it was sentient like you or I ‘cept it could move about like we can.
His name is admin.
But the house kept changing every night! One night it would be a French Manor, the next it would be a Presidential Palace. It was marked for deletion by the machines but the Frenchman managed to acquire it for his wife.
Anyways, She quickly tired of it and The Merovingian gave it to Zippy Da Squirrel as a reward for running a most profitable faction.
The faction suffered heavy losses during the battle at La Metro. But with the new code you brought we have yet another edge.
Of course they will be repaired so their effects will not be so slow in taking effect like the one you triggered. Once hacked they will prove to be a most profitable instrument."

"Now were gonna have some fun with these Choppers." grinned 7Dragoons.

"Are they real or programs?" asked the Techbot.

"Does it matter?"

Two runners lay dead on the ground.

"You will need to maintain focus and perception and I would recommend vitality both inside the Matrix and on the hovercraft," continued 7Dragoons.

"You can spend up to 12 hours a day jacked in, but I wouldn't recommend it often.
So you can continue living with your wife, since you seem so insistent on it.
But you gotta eat man........
Just remember, you work for the Merovingian now. It is he that enables you to do business here. Protected."

-------------------------end transmission------------

**ZippyTheSquirrel**

((Let's set this straight right now.

I'm very flattered of the way you've mostly captured my character, although I don't nearly slip Russian dialect into my sentences as much. Oh, and it's "Zippy the Squirrel", or "Alec" to friends. ;)

However, I'm slightly annoyed that you've gone behind my back to do this. But, I'll allow it. Bygones, da? Oh, but before you continue using me in your story, I suggest communications through PM's over it. :p

And don't forget - heavy vodka drinker. No cigarrettes. Can't stand the smell. ;) That's it for me, continue with yo bad self. ^_^))

**CrypticChecksum**

Not bad, I enjoyed reading it. Twice. The Merv's wife's name though is Persephone. No big deal, just thought I'd point it out.

Techbot

Doh!!! I can't believe I missed that.

I found another bug. Zippy says its a perfect time for a trade, but then St.John escapes ie no trade takes place (except the trade between St.Johns freedom in exchange for the virus code).

Notice I managed to include a Zionite mission before defecting to the Mervs.

I want to write about St.Johns first meeting with 7Dragoons and being brought to the tunnels where they live (not Zion) to do hovercraft repairs and eat some gloop. But I need to do some more research.

It's a pity I cant edit it here. But I will post a link to the final copy and continue it, once I get a bit more done.

I'm hoping this is the first occurrence of a redpill in a relationship with a bluepill, I think its a cool angle that will flesh out St.Johns character.

Also I was to explain the face tattoos as quirks. ( this was to be done in the hovercrafts construct- but I was trying to avoid repeating what happens in the movie) ie a result of the character having a distorted self image. Maybe as a result of guilt in not telling Left (his partner), or anger at finding the truth the way he did, or hidden fear of the Merv and this new world. I expect that eventually the character will come to terms with the change and maybe, just maybe, the facial anomolies will disappear.

Another idea is that St.John aqcuires a sidekick (vampire or werewolf) but again I will wait till I've done some more research.

Another idea is that St.Johns greatest asset will be his continuing association with bluepills. His character does not see redpills as enlightened, merely lucky (or unlucky). In fact he will have a certain empathy for cypherites.(remember the woman he loves is still a bluey and he does not tell her the truth because he has not decided that being released is a good thing.

He will continue to utilise the vast underground network that he has built, although now he knows that most of the gangs he had been couriering for are redpills or exile progs.

Thanks for reading (it's quite a long piece).

Rob
aka The Tech