Mimic
Truthless Heroes
Brown and Jones have an interesting, albeit
strange, proposal for the exiled Agent Smith. But what of the cost of entering the real world to
assassinate Neo?
~~~~~~~
The
small internet café was filled with optic, auditory and otherwise sensual
stimuli. It was high tech, muted
and sleek, and altogether appropriate for a meeting between three entities that
shared an uncommon bond and an uncommon separation. It was public, but failed to fool the single being sitting
alone across from the other two.
This was not safe. Yet he
felt compelled. After all, he was
meaningless to them. Neither an
immediate concern that would warrant a chase, nor the comrade he had once been.
He
could think of nothing less distasteful than the cool proposition his simulated
auditory senses processed and filed away under what his programming determined
by default as ridiculous. Agents
were designed with an understanding, a somewhat limited understanding,
of humanity and thus they could extrapolate the proper responses to give to
certain statements, could use this ability to manipulate the weaker race when
needed. Agent Brown employed this
understanding flawlessly, as any agent should. His inflections were schooled, if cold, and exuded an
acceptable amount of suggestiveness that would cause any human to consider his
words more carefully and with less apprehension.
Smith
folded his fingers and placed his simulated hands upon the simulated desk with the
vague hint of a smirk upon his mouth.
Taking a breath, then pausing as if to consider, he gazed unblinking
behind his shades and said quite seriously, “The system files of your program. Have you run the appropriate diagnostics upon them?”
The
two agents before him processed his response and reacted as they should,
simultaneously and with perfect predictability. It was almost strange to him to see this now, now that he
was an exiled program, no longer controlled by the parameters of the
mainframe. He had never given time
to attempting to understand the irrelevant before, yet now that he was an
outsider he was given a certain objective point of view. The two scanned and communed in a way
that was not visible to the human visual senses, yet still felt compelled by
their programming to turn their heads and examine each other, seeking to know
if the other program understood Smith’s reaction.
Brown
paused a moment, then exhaled as if frustrated and the exile’s smirk died. He found these subtle human expressions
directed at manipulating him offensive.
They meant nothing. He did
not fail to recognize the signs.
They wanted something from him, wanted him to cooperate with this faulty
scheme. Brown fixed an assessing
gaze on him. “Then you refuse.”
Smith
leaned forward slightly in his chair and returned the expression. “I will listen.”
Again
the two agents before him exchanged information and an accompanying visual
display for his benefit. He could
well imagine their confusion.
Typical of a program executed and maintained for the sole purpose of
protecting the secret of the true nature of the matrix. So unaccustomed to one so dressed as
they, so programmed once upon a time, a being that well could have been either
of them rather than Smith, who had as he preferred to term it, ‘expanded his
horizons’. They expected him to
agree, to take his mission as always without question or care. When he failed to trust that from which
he had come, they failed to understand why.
He
failed to understand why. Yet, new
man or not, he did not waste time in questioning his own actions. They simply were, whether cause by a
glitch, by design or by Anderson.
Still, it did no good in relating now to these once-comrades. They were uncertain of his loyalty, of
what had ultimately caused his program to become unstable and what the
long-term effects of that instability would be. He was an unknown equation that he had the distinct
suspicion these two would prefer to leave within the realm of what was
forgotten and exiled. That was, of
course, based upon the hypothetical assumption that either of these programs
had the care for preference. As it
was preference was not a factor.
There was a need of him and without prejudice it would be asked. They had a strange and seemingly
ill-conceived notion of sending him into the real world. An impossibility. Perhaps he was not the only curiously
‘unstable’ equation running around the Matrix.
Jones
spoke now, filtering in through his auditory sensors to capture the immediate
attention of his mental processes.
His tone brought within Smith a remembrance—of when he had first spoken
to Anderson. Or was the condescension
and subtle urge to agreeability imagined?
He staved off reflection until a later time and focused. “Your mission is simple. After much testing and re-testing we
have found a suitable human within the Matrix to which you will be
uploaded. The appropriate program
functions will, naturally, be written to your code or downloaded to a source
you find suitable if linking to the mainframe makes you…uncomfortable.” Smith narrowed his brow. To deny he felt discomfort with
anything would be allowing himself to sink further into what he suspected to
resemble human emotion, or at very least their inane behavior. He felt discomfort with his discomfort. Yet this was something he did not want
cited, least of all from those who deemed him ‘instable’.
The
Agent continued after an unanswered pause. “The process is based upon that which we perform when using
the humans as operating environments, but rather than being temporarily written
over their digital information within the Matrix, you will be taught how to
write your program into their bodies.
These new functions will consist of the following. A trace function, enabling you to
locate the body once you encounter your construct. An uploading and downloading function, which will enable you
to transfer your program into the hardware encased within the human unit. A writer program that you may use to
copy, edit or rewrite your files over many of the files that control the human
unit. And assorted files that will
enable better access and control of the human unit. You may, of course, scan these files yourself before
upgrading.” Again, he paused,
waiting for Smith to digest that information.
Unlike
humans, programs (unless programmed to do so) did not take an inordinate amount
of time processing. He immediately
had questions. “And will I be able
to upload myself into any human?
Any human still plugged into the Matrix?”
The
Agents shook their heads simultaneously and Jones spot up. “There is also a protection feature
added to the upgrade that will prevent you from using your functions on
unapproved individuals. For the
protection of the mainframe, of course.”
“Of
course. And my mission?”
“You
will behave as a human interested in the resistance, on the basis of one who is
unfamiliar with the reality of the Matrix, but wishes to understand. In essence you will seek out a rebel
captain we have pre-chosen and accept any invitations they make. And when the time comes to be freed
from the Matrix…”
“…I
will accept.”
Jones
nodded. “Yes. You will accept. And when they awaken you to the outside
world you will have one remaining task.
Find and destroy anyone you perceive as being vital. Or if you are unable to complete that
task, find and destroy Neo.”
The
trio paused for a moment of consideration. An assassination plot, pure and simple. Yet… “Why send me?”
Jones
and Brown exchanged glances again before the latter gave him a simple, concise
and brutally honest reply. “You
are expendable. You have the
programming we require, the magnified drive we perceive would contribute to a
mission of this nature and are not a functioning part of the mainframe.” What was that about drive? “Therefore, if you remain loyal to the
Matrix and its goals, you were deemed the appropriate choice in this objective.”
There
was a big ‘if’ in his statement.
That they asked him to perform this both conveyed to him they still
believed he would behave in a predictable manner that suited their needs and
also that they accounted for the fact that he may not. Indeed he was the logical choice. Smith cocked his head and wandered his
eyes over the white earpiece hanging from Brown’s ear unconsciously. “And when the objective is complete I
will be interrogated by Zion, discovered and deleted.”
Brown
nodded, then exhaled slightly—another human gesture written to put him at ease. He may have toyed with a pencil had one
been available, for all the ease he was trying to exude. “We understand that you wish your
program to remain operative, for whatever reason. It was, in fact, predicted you would fail to meet us to
preserve yourself from deletion.”
Former
Agent Smith waved off a young waitress that had stepped up and opened her
purple-clad lips to ask for his order.
He waited for her to leave and once she was out of earshot he said, “You
are not incorrect that I wish to continue. Was it predicted that my ‘magnified drive’ would cause me to
value a chance to kill Mr. Anderson over remaining active?”
“It
was.”
Smith
nodded once and scooted towards the edge of the booth. “I predict I can both remain active and
complete my goal to kill him.
Within the Matrix.”
A
hand gripped his wrist and he stopped his departure. They would now come to the conclusion that they had wasted
their time and would now attempt to apprehend him for deletion. Or so he would have predicted. “We offer compensation. A back-up copy of your program will be
kept and as soon as we are satisfied you have completed one or both of your
objectives, it will be activated.”
“A
lie.”
Brown
removed his hand from Smith’s wrist and began to exit the booth, followed by
Jones. Smith slowly elevated to
full height and waited for what would inevitably come. Yet he again failed to predict through
logic and mathematics. They failed
to take on the threatening stances they should have and even allowed him a
clean shot towards the door. Brown
watched him through eyes covered by sunglasses, ever masked to the world. “Reconsider. If you fail to return here by this time tomorrow consider
yourself targeted for deletion.
Programs without purpose drain the Matrix needlessly and however minute that
drain may be, it will inevitably effect the efficiency of power usage delegated
by the mainframe and disrupt the continuity of its mathematical harmony.”
The
threat almost amused Smith as his once-comrades began for the exit of the
establishment. “You are giving me
a chance to change my mind?” The
idea was ludicrous for an Agent.
He was no battery, to be preserved for usage or psychologically studied.
Jones
shot him a quick look over his shoulder.
“It is predicted that with the knowledge you now possess there is an 62.5%
chance you will reconsider and agree.
You are suited to this task, therefore we will allow for more time. It was also predicted that like humans,
you would require time to assess and reassess before proceeding logically.”
Agent
Smith’s lip curled as the other two exited the café without another word.
~~~~~~~
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