Running With Scissors
The snow mutes out the sound from the street below, as if there was enough activity below to merit sound anyway. The man in the dingy room looks out the window for a moment disinterestedly before going back to the rickety table by the cot.
Like the room he is in, he was once more than what he is today. The pants he wears looks several sizes too big, his once white tanktop now yellowing in several places is dirty and torn. He wears scuffed and worn workboots were once he wore pristine black polished shoes. His bloodshot eyes are a testament to the drinking that he has done and the drinking he is about to resume, his five o’clock shadow on his face now bordering at seven. His hair is a bit longer than would have been regulation approved, but regulations that used to be a major thing in his life are no longer part of the equation.
Equation……
He sat down in an old creaky beat up chair in front of the dismal plane of his table and had to roll that word in his mind again. He thought as he reached for a dirty glass and the bottle of Jack Daniels that things do equal out, sometimes the variables align in an almost peaceful, unnoticeable way. As he poured his glass he also thought sometimes they even out like that, and sometimes they can be the most violent and chaotic before settling down.
He knocked back the glass and let the liquid hit the back of his throat until the equation of that effect balanced itself out. The liquid that momentarily awoke some of the dead feeling inside the man, slowly coursed downwards in his throat, making a trail of heated bliss as it settled in his stomach like a small ball of fire. He looked around his dingy apartment, part in disgust and part in an almost mourning.
The life that he had would have never allowed for such an existence and yet he knew if it had, he would have been in a better place rather than this place that made Heart O’ the City look like a five star. He put a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose at the base while he closed his eyes and concentrated on not thinking of that particular place, all the while knowing it was impossible not to do so.
He must have run the events there in his mind a million times and as much as he was now tired of them, he knew he couldn’t stop remembering them...
The Matrix
Agent Smith turned to face his two agent companions; his face was distorted in a rictus of pain and uncertainty. They both looked at him, almost as confused as he was; this wasn’t supposed to happen…ever. Agent Brown and Jones gripped their guns tightly in their hands as Agent Smith appeared to swell first in his chest, then slowly moving up past his neck until it reached his skull. Jones looked on horrified as Smith’s skull began to crack, small fissures of white green light breaking past the Smith’s skull. Agent Brown shielded his face as Jones mirrored the same and then Smith exploded. The light that exploded all around them was terrifying enough, but it was Smith’s scream that chilled them both.
The light faded, Smith faded and all that was left was the young man that had been part of Smith’s obsession from the moment his name came across their database. Again this was another impossibility, Brown checked this particular man’s lifesigns, when they were leaving he was dead and yet there he stood. The hallway seemed to ripple and bend away from him as if eager to give him as much room as possible before settling back to its normal state, or rather equating itself out to its normal balance.
The young man dressed in black was now looking at Jones and Brown, it was the look of death as far as Jones was concerned and only had to look back at his partner to see he was thinking the same thing. There was only one thing to do, one way to hopefully survive this encounter, regroup and hopefully find a way to survive…run.
They met later in an alleyway in Richland, not far from Heart O’ the City motel. Between two brunt out buildings the chances of anyone eavesdropping on their conversation was minimal, and as it turns out they had a lot to discuss.
Agent Jones spoke first with a question “any word on Smith?” Agent Brown shook his head slowly and said “it is still unclear whether he re-substantiated or not, but his signal has not shown up on the grid.” Jones cupped his ear for a moment, listening to the information from the earpiece and spoke “it would appear Mr. Anderson is not on the grid as well.” Brown nodded “we would have to wait until he remerges in the system in order to attempt to acquire him again.” Jones smirked and said sarcastically “as if that’s going to be easy now.” Brown looked at Jones quizzically, it was one thing for Smith to have sampled human emotions to the point of committing fatal errors, but Jones was always resisting those urges to be more than the sum of his programming, and yet here was the first signs that he was slowly beginning to become unraveled.
Both Agents cupped their ear and listened to the instructions from their earpieces, both looked at each other. “Agents are on their way here” said Brown “we are to be decommissioned.” Jones gritted his teeth and muttered “so fast and just like that.” Brown nodded and said “it would appear that the Source has already upgraded our designation, it is an efficient response to the situation.
Jones flexed and clenched the fingers in his hands until reaching up he pulled the earpiece away from his ear. Brown looked at Jones again quizzically and asked “what are you doing?” Jones sighed and said “I do not want to be deleted. “But we must” countered Brown “our usefulness to the system is obsolete; therefore our existence is as well.” Jones shook his head “No” he said “we performed as we were programmed to do, everything was in order until Smith dragged us into his obsession for Mr. Anderson. If there was anyone that should be deleted, it should be him not us.” Jones started to walk away until Brown called out “where are you going?” Jones didn’t turn around, but just looked over his shoulder and said before walking again “away from here, and if you are smart you will leave here as well. We should not be deleted; we don’t deserve to be deleted. We still have purpose.”
Jones watched from the rooftop as the nondescript van pulled to the curb. The two agents that emerged from the van were different looking; they looked younger, sharper, and more aware of their surroundings. Jones looked down waiting to see what would happen next, Brown emerged from the alleyway and walked towards the van as the two agents walked toward him. Jones sighed almost sadly as he saw Brown hand over his weapon to the agents. The two agents led Brown to the side of the van and for one moment, Brown looked up at the spot Jones was looking down at him. The two Agents looked up as well but none of the three could see Jones, he was long gone.
Present Day
Jones sighed and poured another glass of whisky. He knew he told Brown that they still had purpose but he often wondered if he told that lie to satisfy himself or to convince Brown not to opt for deletion. Whatever the case it didn’t work and soon Jones found himself with really no purpose other than to exist. He knocked back the second glass, this time allowing the liquid to burn his mouth a little before swallowing it down. He chuckled a little this time in the empty room to himself, yes Equations, Existence, and Purpose all small parts of the variable that converge with others to make the program. All sensitive and fragile even to an Agent and when one of those parts becomes frayed the others carry the consequences as well…
Reloaded
He saw Smith and Smith saw him. They looked at each other curiously for a moment. Smith looked well, even better than well whereas Jones looked like everyone else. Smith smirked and said “been a long time Jones, I have to say I am surprised to see you. I would have assumed that you would have chosen deletion.” Jones looked back at Smith, and then self consciously he looked down at himself. He looked like any other construction worker on the busy streets of Downtown and although the work was tedious and boring, it was still work, something to do, some purpose. He looked back up at Smith and said almost defiantly “I have a function Smith, I have purpose.” Smith nodded, that smirk never leaving his face as he said “I too have found a purpose, a rather unique purpose.” Jones cocked an eyebrow and said “Oh, and what would that be?”
“Mr. Anderson”
Jones frowned “The Anomaly” he said with resigned disgust “your obsession and the reason for our downfall.” Smith nodded and said “that is so to a degree, but in a way I think I should thank him.” Jones looked confused but Smith pressed on “when Mr., Anderson merged with me, something happened. I don’t know how it happened but it opened my eyes to new possibilities, and the overwhelming need to see the final chapter played out.”
Jones wondered if by some other means Smith also was insane but decided it was better just to ask another question “So now that you have found some new agenda to follow, what are you going to do.” Smith chuckled shortly as he said “isn’t it obvious? I am going to have it all.” Jones shook his head as Smith continued “I discovered that as agents we can only do so much” he said “we are bound by rules of this system and although we are gifted with powers, we are all still slaves to it.” Smith smiled slowly “but after the merge I become much more than the sum of my programming. I have new gifts or powers if you will. I can do much, much more now and I intend to do as well.”
Jones was still getting used to his emotions so it was hard to say how he felt. So many emotions at once assailed him, but the one underlying emotion that was bubbling up and coursing through him was fear. He wasn’t going to allow Smith to see that, he wouldn’t dare allow himself to look weak in front of this smirking turncoat.
With an air of false bravery Jones said “so what does this all mean to me? Do you plan to harm me? End my existence?” Smith looked surprised and said “what makes you think I would want to do that? But to answer your questions…no, I have no desire of copying myself onto you. You are obsolete, a relic from the past with no purpose and nothing to offer.”
Jones nodded, he could take the insult if it meant his existence would continue. He started to walk past Smith when he stopped and reached into his pocket. “Here” he said pulling out his old earpiece “I have nothing to offer, but I have no need of this anymore.” Smith raised his eyebrows as he took the earpiece and said in an amused voice “why Mr. Jones you can’t imagine how useful this is to me…”
Present Day
He got up slowly from the old chair and walked towards his cot, he didn’t want to stay in this room any longer but he didn’t want to part with the bottle just yet. His coat was half on and half off the cot and with a resigned sigh he picked it up and put it on. He hated the weekends, nothing to do all day but watch it pass slowly, no purpose.
He got into the whole drinking thing just on a small invite from his fellow workers. The work days were eight hours of shoveling, lifting and wheeling parts and tools to the various areas in the construction site. He did this work tirelessly; a satisfaction deep within him that his functions in this, some purpose, even if it meant the construction of some building he was content in the knowledge that he was one small cog in the machine.
His fellow workers however had a different opinion of him which was to say they thought he was goddamn brownnoser that was sucking up to the bosses. The guy never took a break, hell even a bathroom break. He would come in do four hours of back breaking work, take an hour for lunch and ate…nothing, just to go back and work until closing. He was making the rest of the crew look bad, especially at lunch where he would just stand there and look at the construction site while they ate. Finally one of the workers handed him a flask and told him that he needed to loosen up and have a drink because he sure as hell looked like he could use it.
Jones tried the drink and afterwards reported the other worker for having alcohol on the job, efficiency would have been compromised after all, but after closing he went to a liquor store and got a bottle for himself. Now he had something to do after work and on the weekends…
He decided he was going to carry the bottle with him as he took a walk, maybe to the park. This late in the day few people would be there ands it would give him a chance to finish his bottle with some more comfortable surroundings, at any rate it was a plan…
Revolutions
An old repair shop faced the Akasaka construction site, mostly ignored by the entire city it stood there from the beginning. The Merovingian of course had more elaborate means of getting exiles into the Matrix but would have had a fit if he knew about this place. As an agent, Jones knew all about this place and a few others one could go if he or she wanted to escape detection. He never believed he would ever have had to use a place like this but it seemed like the alternative was much worse.
Smith was everywhere, literally. Jones saw the former companion everywhere he walked. All of them looked at him with that smirk as if to say “you see? I told you so!” look on their faces. Jones didn’t like the looks of this, they all seemed intent on one thing and as the rain began to come down hard he knew that if he was to stay on the grid any longer this night, it would be the last night of his existence.
He easily pulled the boards that blocked the back door of the shop and turned the knob. Walking inside he saw the place had the normal one inch of dust that covered everything, it didn’t matter. He was just interested in the floor hatch, pulling that up he went downstairs where he found another door.
The door downstairs led to a hallway full of other doors. He walked past rows upon rows of doors until he got tired and sat down. He sat down in the white hallway, listening to the sound of a few doors open and close, seems he wasn’t the only one aware of its existence and soon those sounds were quieted, although he could still here things every once in a while, the crash of thunder and the pelting of rain. Later those sounds would also die off and when all was completely quiet again he got up and walked back to the door he came from.
He stepped outside and had to squint his eyes as the sun came up shining brightly. The blue skies carried with it a cold almost refreshing aroma to it, the people that were walking about that morning seemed almost in a daze as if they were confused as to how they got were they were. Jones didn’t really pay attention, for him something was different about the Matrix, it was if it was…
“Reborn”
Jones looked surprised that he actually uttered those thoughts from his mouth, but in a way it sounded right, it sounded true to him.
Present Day
It started to rain, turning all of the new fallen snow into a slush that made a crunching sound under his workboots. He would break from looking down at the ground to lift his head to take another swig of whisky; the park was only a few blocks away. It would be good just to sit down and enjoy…
He never heard the footsteps behind him, never heard the rustle of fabric or heard the metallic click. The report was mute compared to the bright flash in front of his eyes; he saw it all with wonder on his face, even as he felt the ground come up fast to him. He lies on his side and saw a pair of heeled shoes walk close to his face. A hand cupped his chin until he could look up and see the face of a business woman looking down at him. She looked at him with something like pity and said softly to him “it’s time to come home Agent Jones.”
The world goes dark for him, first starting around the edges of his vision and then closing all around him, he nods weakly at the lady who is putting her gun away, yes it was time to go home. For the first time he would agree his purpose was over…
Note: Had fun writing this, hope you all enjoy!
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