How did I beat you? ~ Morpheus
 

Morpheus was crying. He would normally have been quite self-conscious but he was in the privacy of his cabin aboard the Nebuchadnezzar. It was here that he could let his guarded persona drop and truly relax. Even then he felt embarrassed by this sudden release of emotion. And sudden it was.

He didn’t see it coming but it burst from him in a torrent. His sobbing was enough to shake his heavy shoulders and he got the distinct impression that he may never stop. But, oddly, the tears that washed down his cheeks were not triggered solely by sadness but by joy and...relief. Morpheus felt a weight was gone from his shoulders, a release of pressure and responsibility. It was intense enough to warrant the burst of emotion he was now allowing to escape from the bottle of his soul.

It swirled and danced in his mind, kicking up the dust of memories. He remembered all that had gotten him to this point. The things he had done and regretted, the regrets of things he had not done, and the things that he was proud. Among those of which he was proud stood one high above the others...Neo. That was the one thing he was most happy with. Finding Neo after all the pain and sacrifice he, and the others, had had to endure was his crowning achievement. It was his mission, his purpose. His life.

So many years he had struggled with his destiny. He would find the means to humanity’s salvation. Not an easy burden to shoulder. But he had taken it willingly and gladly. It was not for glory or self-serving pride. God no. It was because he felt he had to. Not that he had any special gift or was superior in any way. No, it was because, like Neo, Morpheus felt he had been chosen. Chosen amongst all the rebels to find the "One."

And he had. Neo was in fact the one he had sought. The doubts, the fears, were gone. Neo was unquestionably the Chosen One. Friends had died to protect Neo and to safe guard Morpheus’ vision. They had had to believe him, take him on his word, and lay down their own lives on Morpheus’ stern belief that he had found the One...again. They willingly died because he had said Neo was the one. He had said. They had died. In the semidarkness of his quarters Morpheus looked at his hands and imagined he saw blood. Blood of friends.

The crying renewed.

And what of his own life? How much had he sacrificed in his quest? His family that was left behind when he left the Matrix. Life outside the Matrix was harsh. And what of love? He had refused to give himself to love. Driven in his purpose he had turned away from those that had more to give. Of that he held his largest regret. Switch. She was not the first to love him but she had never asked for anything in return. Never. He held a blanket close to his face to muffle his groan as his weeping suddenly overcame him. His entire frame shook as he fought for control but in the end he simply let it run its course. For too long he had tried to contain all the strong emotions that fought inside him. He had to let them out. All the sorrow. All the...hate.

Cypher.

He half blamed himself for not seeing it. Not seeing the betrayal racing at them all from Cypher’s twisted mind. But try as he had all this time he could not understand it. He could not comprehend how someone that had spent all that time with them could throw it all away. He played it through his memory again and again to find what changed Cypher, what caused his fall. He knew that somewhere Cypher had learned to hate him, blame him for everything. He saw it in hindsight. If only he had seen it in time. If only...

But Switch was gone. Killed in Cypher’s insane rage. She would never know exactly how much Morpheus cared for her. He found himself wishing he could just tell her. Just take a moment frozen in time and explain why he pushed her away, why he wouldn’t allow himself to reciprocate her love. Tell her he was sorry. That he was a fool. With a heavy sigh that caused his body to momentarily shiver he felt the last of the sorrow escape him. And he thought back to Neo. Morpheus realized he missed him.

The crew had been in Zion for two weeks. Morpheus had been giving detailed accounts of the events of Neo’s "death" to the Council. They were especially interested in what came after; Neo’s rebirth. From there the Council had been trying to formulate plans on what to do next. How to proceed with this new ally against the AI. For decades the Council had been battling the AI to regain control of mankind’s future. Now that they may actually be near their destination they weren’t sure how to proceed. What would they do with all the people in the Matrix?

The rest of the crew had taken a much-needed rest in Zion as Morpheus discussed plans of action with the Council and other ship captains. But the whole two weeks he could sense restlessness in Trinity. She was uneasy. He knew she wanted to return to the surface conduits and jack into the Matrix. She missed Neo too.

Morpheus realized that it was actually a very short time that they had all known Neo. Yet Trinity had fallen so deeply and completely in love with him that it was hard to believe. And Morpheus had, in that short time, grown a strong bond with him. In some ways Morpheus felt paternal toward Neo. More than a teacher/student relationship. It was closer to father/son. As a father figure he bore a certain pride in Neo. Through his own perseverance he had found Neo. He had helped train him and guide him to his ultimate destiny. And now Neo was in a place to finally bring to an end the living, dreaming nightmare that Morpheus and all of humanity had been born to. The realization that the end was in sight was enough to release the tide of emotion Morpheus was feeling. The realization that it had all not been in vain. His life, his purpose was not the impossible dream he sometimes doubted. Now he was convinced that his mission was finished.

He had witnessed it when he had met with the Council. They had gotten all his pertinent information and were interested to hear his opinions on how to proceed. But he had begun to get the feeling that they were only being respectful. That his ideas now did not carry weight. He had played out his part and now they felt it was time for him to wait in the wings for the final curtain to fall. And, in a way, he didn’t mind. For the first time that he could remember he felt...free.

After they had gotten underway from Zion to return to the sewers near the surface, he began to feel melancholy. He was uneasy and restless during the trip. Then a day away from their destination he retired to his quarters to be alone and think. That is when it all finally surfaced and he broke down in an emotional exorcism.

But now, with his quest fulfilled, his future purpose unsure, and his pent up feelings finally released, all he wanted to do was see Neo.

Finally he slept. The sleep was deep and heavy. Awakening the next morning he could recall no dreams. He could always recall his dreams.

Digital_Grace awoke with a jump. She felt like a cattle prod had been nudged against her in her sleep. She had been dreaming but the sudden shock of consciousness removed any hint of the vaporous trails left behind from the play of subconscious thoughts. The abrupt awakening had put her senses on alert. What had roused her so completely?

The room was bathed in filtered morning light. She listened and could only hear the creak of floorboards above her from the tenant above. The room was empty. She looked at her alarm clock, 7:15 AM. She had slept for about three hours. She shivered in the winter cold that crept in from outside. She was surprised to see her breath puff out in quick little clouds. Had the heat gone out? Was it the cold that awoke her?

She shivered again and glanced around her small one room apartment in the soft gray light. She could see the bolt and chain still latched on the door. She was alone. She eased her legs from under the blankets to the floor. She quickly pulled them up as they touched what felt like dry ice. Swinging around in her bed she looked down at the floor. It was the same old wooden boards. But did she detect a slight sheen in the dim light? Ice?

It seemed even colder and she pulled the blankets tighter around her now trembling body. The edge of the blanket flipped the pillow over and it fell against the crowded nightstand. There was a partial glass of water sitting there and it tumbled over. She reached for it but it rolled off the edge and toward the floor, the water inside a solid mass of ice. Then Digital_Grace blinked. And blinked again. The glass was slowing down in its decent as if the very air was beginning to solidify. In wondrous fascination she watched it slowly gyrate and spin toward the floor, the glass’s speed slowing as each second passed. Then, ever so lightly, it touched the floor. Grace saw tiny threads of cracks leisurely stroll across the glass sides. They widened and soon she saw fragments breakaway and dance off in their own little graceful ballets. But it all continued to slow until she was having trouble seeing any movement at all. She reached out to touch the little pieces; see if she could change their trajectory; perhaps pluck one from the air. Gingerly she extended her hand toward one of the larger pieces of glass that was almost even with her as she sat on the bed. She touched it with the tip of her finger as it hung seemingly motionless in the air before her. Without warning the broken remnants of the glass returned to real time and she jerked her hand back, a cut on her fingertip from the glass shard. The glass and ice mixture clattered about the floor, sliding off in all directions. She saw them skidding about and noticed one bounce against the sole of a man’s boot. The boot of the man standing next to her bed!

She looked up, her senses again becoming alert and her body preparing for the sudden scream she involuntarily was about to produce. But the scream didn’t come. It also seemed to become frozen in her throat. All she could do was look at him.

He looked familiar but she could not place him. He was handsome yet he had a soft innocence to his face. His eyes and hair were dark. His clothing was all black. But there was something else.

In the thin light she could tell he was pale but his skin had a strange cast, a sheen. It was almost metallic. Like his face was a finely crafted mask of smooth, cold steel. He had a hand outstretched toward her. It also carried the dull shine of metal. His face was sad, almost pleading. Then she noticed he was trying to speak but she could not hear any sound. In fact she became aware of how silent it was in her apartment. There was no sound.

He was repeating one word over and over. She focused on his mouth as it continued to replay the same word. Her fear, her anxiety faded as she fixated on that word. She tried to read his lips. Her own mouth began to mimic his actions as she tried to form the sounds he should be making.

Cold.

He kept saying, "Cold."

She looked into his eyes and said, "Cold?" There was a faint flash of recognition that was almost immediately replaced by a look of pain. The grimace grew stronger until his eyes clamped shut and she could see teeth, flashing like chrome; grind together between taught lips. His body spasmed and his hands came up to the sides of his head in tight fists of metal. He doubled for a moment before throwing his arms and head back, his mouth wide in a silent scream.

The unreality of the whole scene didn’t seem to bother Grace. She was instead torn by the show of intense pain the stranger was displaying. She could feel tears welling in her eyes. They froze to her skin half way down her cheeks. Then she heard the noise.

The metal man’s silent scream now had a sound. It was a high pitched screech. The screech of a modem.

With no warning something burst from within the man. A coiled wire shot from his chest. It hesitated, like a snake alert for prey, then struck at Grace. She managed to deflect its attack with a quick slap of her hand. But more wires and cables sprung from his body. Shiny, flexible cables snaked from his ears and nose. Tiny thin wires intermingled with his hair. A large round conduit snapped out of each eye. His raging scream became the exit for all manner of cable. In the matter of seconds he had become a mass of wires that spread across the room, plugging into anything they could find, electrical or not. Dozens were piercing Grace’s body. She could feel them inside her, coiling, searching. The frozen scream in her throat finally escaped.

It was the sound of a modem’s screech.

Digital_Grace awoke with a jump. She felt like a cattle prod had been nudged against her in her sleep. The abrupt awakening had put her senses on alert. What had roused her so completely? She had been dreaming; an awful nightmare.

The room was bathed in filtered morning light. She listened and could only hear the creak of floorboards above her from the tenant above. The room was empty. She shivered in the winter coldness that crept in from outside. And from the dream she had just had.

It had all been so real. She looked at her alarm clock, 7:15 AM. She had slept for about three hours. She was overtaken with a sense of deja vu. She shook her head and noticed the glass of water on the nightstand. To reassure herself she quickly lashed out and knocked it to the floor. With a content sigh she saw it shatter and spray water across the floor. Just a dream, she thought. She felt her pulse begin to slow to its normal rhythm. But when she looked down it quickly renewed its excited pounding. There she saw the blood dripping down her hand from a cut on the tip of her finger.

Jetsam stood in the overhang of the coffee shop doorway. He was apprehensive. He looked at his watch again for the fourth time in as many minutes. "Where could he be?" he found himself mumbling aloud. He took a sip of coffee from the styrofoam cup that doubled as a hand warmer. He looked expectantly down the street both ways. The figure he had been waiting for the last forty-five minutes was still nowhere to be seen. He fought the urge to look at his watch again. He lost and flicked his wrist over to check the time. This was all highly unusual he knew. He never had to wait. Ever.

Someone came out of the coffee shop and bumped into him. He almost jumped out of skin and managed to drop his coffee. The woman tossed a quick apology over her shoulder as she quickly stepped to the curb and hailed a taxi. Jetsam tried to calm himself. He was sorry his coffee had spilled, as his hands now felt even colder in the icy wind that was finding its way into his tiny alcove. He toyed with the idea of getting another but his nervousness prevented him; paranoid he would miss his contact if he were to show while he was inside. Logic dictated to him that wasn’t likely but his fear held him steadfast. He suddenly realized he was looking at his watch again.

Jetsam didn’t like waiting around any longer than necessary. The longer he stayed in that one spot the easier ‘they’ might find him. And that’s how people died. He thought of calling in but that might only make matters worse if ‘they’ got a lock on him. Jetsam pulled his coat collar a little tighter around his neck and shivered. It was starting to snow again. When he found himself looking at his watch again he decided to go ahead and call. With a little luck he would be told to come back. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He clicked it open and it auto-dialed a number.

"Operator," came a familiar voice.

"He hasn’t shown, Jabber" explained Jetsam.

There was a tiny pause, then "That’s not right. That never happens." The voice held a noticeable tone of concern even over the scratchy phone connection. It didn’t make Jetsam feel one bit better.

"Yeah, I know that. The question is, can I leave? I don’t like waiting around in the open like this."

"Let me check and get back to you. I don’t want to keep this line open in case..."

"Right. Hurry." Jetsam closed the phone. He looked at his watch. "Shit."

The Orion was the newest ship in the fleet. It was a sleek hovercraft that was faster than any of the others. And, unlike most of the older ships, it was fitted with defensive capabilities. It was, in every way, superior to every other ship the resistance had. At least that was what her captain thought.

Currently the Orion hovered motionless in one of the countless tunnels that crisscrossed underneath the earth’s surface. Centuries old thick patches of mold luminessed a faint, greenish light. It was just enough light for the captain to be able to stare out into the tunnel and see more than darkness with the Orion’s outside lights switched off. But it was what lay just beyond the gloom that both worried and excited her. Out there, hidden, was another battle just waiting to spring. The irony of having to fight for humanity’s freedom through the very pipes that were designed to whisk away the undesirable refuse of society was never lost on Allegria. She chuckled. The pilot looked up from her display a little confused by her captain’s mirthless chuckle. Nervous, she asked, "What’s funny?"

Allegria continued to look out through the glass at the murky green scene before her. "I can’t wait until I can flush some kind of garbage down these sewer pipes instead of hide here," she said almost more to herself than in answer to the pilot’s question. She gazed out the forward window of the Orion for a bit longer. With all this waiting around she felt pensive. She craved more excitement. The Orion was built for conflict. It patrolled the subterranean corridors guarding other ships or taking out the occasional "squiddy." The Orion was an attack ship. The only one in the fleet. And hence her captain and crew were individuals picked for their predilection for action. This kind of duty was wearing on the nerves. And gave Allegria too much time to think.

She turned to the pilot still looking up from her display curiously wondering if she was waiting for some kind of reply. Allegria saw the look, smiled, and slapped her on the shoulder. "Sorry, I’m drifting. I hate this..."

A large man suddenly ran up to the Bridge hatchway and attempted to squeeze through. His breath came in short puffs and the flushing of his cheeks gave away his emotion. His face carried a look of concern. "Jetsam hasn’t made contact with him yet. He’s been waiting forty-five minutes. He wants out."

The captain did not betray all of her deep concern. Only the look of slight surprise, by way of a raised eyebrow, appeared on her face. "He’s never late. Get Jetsam out of there now, Jabber."

Jabber reversed direction, having never quite gotten all the way through the hatch, and headed for the ships Core. The captain followed closely after giving a quick glance back at the pilot. "Stay sharp, Gyro. We move the second Jetsam is back." She was gone before Gyro could reply.

Jetsam looked at his watch again. Disgusted at this compulsive behavior he yanked it from his wrist and tossed it into a trashcan near the street. "I gotta get out of here," he mumbled to himself. He shot a glance both ways down the street desperate for the sight of his quarry. But he only saw the unfamiliar faces of the city’s citizens trying to make their way along the snowy sidewalk. But as he turned his head from the walkway an unconscious impression suddenly flared. It was the impression of a man in a dark suit and overcoat staring back at him from the street corner. A man with dark glasses despite the gloomy overcast. As this image floated upward in Jetsam’s mind’s eye his heart began to hammer inside his chest. Jetsam shoved a hand into his coat and wrapped his fingers around the butt of the gun that rested there. He chanced another quick look around the corner, his grip tightening on the weapon.

There was no one of that description standing on the street. He carefully looked around the street anxious about actually finding someone meeting his gaze. But the people on the street paid him no mind.

"I am seriously freaking out!" he exclaimed under his breath. A patron of the coffee shop was just leaving and gave Jetsam an uncomfortable glance at hearing his comment. Annoyed, Jetsam waved her off and tossed a simple "Bite me" after her. He struggled to get a hold of himself. "Hallucinating," he thought. "Thinking I am seeing..." His phone rang and he threatened to leave his skin. "Yeah?" he barked into the receiver.

"We’re getting you out now." It was Jabber, much to Jetsam’s gratitude. "There is an old pay phone in the back of Kelp’s at 23^rd and Ash. I’ll give you five minutes, Jet."

"Make it four, pal. I’ll be there!" Jetsam clicked off the phone and jammed it back in his pocket. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and started west. He had an urge to run but trying to remain inconspicuous not to mention the slick sidewalk he fought it. But he kept his pace brisk. The wind was starting to kick up and the snow as falling even harder. The flakes bit at his skin as he squinted against the breeze. He pulled his collar tight in one hand. As he rounded the corner on Ash he looked at his watch. He swore quietly as he remembered he had thrown it away. He calculated the time in his head...one minute? Two? He picked up his pace and started to jog. He lost his footing almost immediately.

He hit the icy cement with just enough momentum to spin and slide into another person. The other guy swore and landed atop Jetsam. Simultaneously separating himself from the tangle of limbs and throwing apologies everywhere he tried to get his footing. It was then, as he glanced up, that he saw the agent making his way quickly to Jetsam’s location from across the street.

Jetsam didn’t need a watch to tell him his time was up.

Digital_Grace finally decided to leave her apartment later that afternoon. She still had some work to do on the code that she was writing but she felt compelled to leave anyway. Her surroundings seemed to be closing in on her. She pulled on her boots and grabbed her coat. Some fresh air would clear her head.

The sky was that pale gray that signaled snow and there was a slight breeze that didn’t help the temperature be any more enjoyable. But the crisp air did feel somewhat refreshing so she decided to stay out for a bit and walk. It could help her clear her head and think. The dream and events from the morning were still playing in her mind. She suddenly realized her thumb was idly rubbing against the band-aid on her index finger. That was still puzzling her. Where could that cut have come from? She forced her self to believe that it happened while she was asleep and the sensation of the cut had leaked into her subconscious and influence her dream. "Yeah, that’s it," she smiled and continued to walk. "What else could it have been?" Before she knew it she had absent-mindedly traveled several blocks from her apartment building. Catching herself, she decided to head back.

It was starting to snow and Digital_Grace was feeling the cold. She decided to get something to warm her up for the walk home. Looking around she spied a Starbucks across the street. The traffic wasn’t too thick and the people on the sidewalks all seemed intent on getting somewhere, anywhere, out of the cold. She scurried across the middle of the street making sure she didn’t lose her footing. Inside she stood in the short line and waited for her turn.

A few people looked to be camping out for the time being to avoid facing the cold outside. A couple was having some deep discussion at a table about something they saw in a magazine they were sharing. Another table held four people Grace assumed were students. A table near the door was occupied by a solitary figure holding a small cup of coffee. For a reason she couldn’t put her finger on, this figure seemed out of place. The table by the door got a blast of cold air whenever someone went in or out. And despite the other empty tables in warmer locations, that person still sat there.

"What’ll you have?"

Digital_Grace turned to the man behind the counter. "Cafe Mocha, please," she ordered. He wrote it down and passed it off and rang the order. Grace paid him and turned back to watch the lone figure at the table. Grace was unable to tell if it was a man or woman. The figure wore a hooded coat that shrouded their face. There was something about the figure that continued to draw Grace’s attention and curiosity. But what...

"Cafe Mocha," called out the man at the counter. She went up and got her cup, asking for a lid. She took a sip, too hot of course but it would be a welcome addition to the trip home. Especially now that it looked like the wind had kicked up and the snow was much more determined. She bundled herself to go back out into the cold. Heading for the door she thought she might be able to get a look at the person sitting at the table by the door.

The figure’s head was turned slightly, preferring to gaze out at the street than inside the shop. Grace knew if she just glanced back slightly as she exited the coffee shop that she should be able to see the person’s face. At no time did Digital_Grace think her behavior odd. She was totally drawn into this person for some reason. As she pushed open the door she started to turn her head to look back.

"I am seriously freaking out!"

Grace jumped at the voice next to her. She spun her head to look at the man standing by the door. She remembered passing him as she entered. He appeared very nervous and she was alarmed enough to forget about the person in the coffee shop. She quickly stepped away from the man. He waved his hand at her annoyingly and mumbled, "Bite me." She decided to get far away from him and started walking down the sidewalk against the driving snow. The wind was really pushing at her and she was happy she had her coffee now.

A couple of moments later someone pushed past her at a brisk walk. As he rounded the corner she had the distinct impression it was the rude man at the coffee shop.

"I don’t like this one bit, Jabber," remarked Allegria. She was leaning over Jabber’s shoulder scrutinizing the flowing matrix code on the monitors before her. "Look at that one," she pointed. "Have you seen one like that before?"

To the untrained eye the streaming lines of code that made up the matrix were just odd characters rolling down the screen. But after years of study the code began to take on life. It could twist itself into anything. Each person in the matrix had a signature. It was what made them different from everyone else. The rebels that hacked into the matrix from the outside were even more different. There were subtle character strings that connected their avatar to a mind outside the influence of the matrix. It was not easy to spot but the operators, the ones that really knew how to read the code, could spot an unplugged person from a non-unplugged person by looking for those strings. Those strings were what made hacking a person into the matrix a possibility.

Jabber was a good operator and could read code like a book. He was not quite on par with the really great operators that read code instinctively like Tempest, Tank, or Rune, but he still was an established operator. Like most operators, the Core was his home. He didn’t like others fooling with it and it was always reluctantly that he accepted their help. Even when pulling watches. If he could he would stand every watch no matter the lack of sleep. But that was impossible. Still he often would hang around after being relieved just to keep his eye on things. His dedication was second to none. And Jabber also had an operator trait that only a few shared. He was unplugged. The vast majority of operators were "homegrown," born naturally in Zion. Those who were at some point unplugged from the matrix, "jacks" as they were sometimes called, didn’t have quite the disposition for learning the code. They could, of course, learn to read it with practice but being an operator required a fluency that very few of them either had the patience or ability to master. Jabber had. It was a source of pride for him. The last thing he ever wanted was for someone to challenge or correct him.

"Uh...not exactly, no," Jabber replied to Allegria’s question. He tapped on the keys of his board, his heavy fingers floating effortlessly over them. One of the side monitors narrowed its display to a few strands. He quickly noticed what Allegria was pointing out. A string that was tied to neither the matrix nor a pirate signal. "Could be a glitch."

"Tie it down, Jabber. I want to get a closer..."

"Shit!" yelled Jabber. Allegria didn’t jump at Jabber’s sudden exclamation but she felt her heart skip a beat. She looked over at the main monitor. With a sickening feeling she noticed what Jabber saw. "We’ve got an agent!"

Jetsam scrambled to his feet on the slick sidewalk. His pistol, useless he knew, was already in his hand. If anything it would scatter the surrounding "coppertops" from the area. His concern was not entirely unselfish. Since any person still hardwired into the matrix had the potential to be overwritten by an agent program at any moment, the farther they were from him the more time he would have to react.

He fired at the agent and turned to run. He didn’t look back. He knew the agent would dodge the bullets effortlessly. His focus was not on removing the agent but to flee. Despite his screaming and waving a gun not everyone got out of his way. The agents all looked like some kind of federal agent for a reason. People always assumed they were the good guys. Given Jetsam’s appearance and the agents’, the average citizen would usually only move to thwart his escape, not the agent’s pursuit. Smart frigging AI, thought Jetsam. It knows us too well.

A few people didn’t get out of Jetsam’s way and one even tried to trip him. Jetsam moved to shove the man aside but his arm was suddenly seized in a vice-like grip. The interloper had become the agent and now had a hold of Jetsam.

All of his training came into play as he quickly performed a jeet-kune-do move that freed his arm and sent the agent back a step. He tried a kick to push the agent further back but he was too slow. The agent countered and sent Jetsam to the ice, sliding backward near the entrance to an alley. Wincing, he realized that he had bruised or broken his ribs. He fought against the pain to stand but the agent was there at his side and kicked his aching side. Blackness swirled around his eyes and mind as the pain threatened a blackout. Another kick and he would fade out of consciousness. He waited for the final blow.

Allegria was hurting. She knew enough to realize that the agent out manned Jetsam. And where there was one another always showed up. Thoughts racing like lightening in her head she tried to formulate a plan to help him. There were none.

Jetsam was not only a member of her crew; he was a trusted friend. They had known each other for eight years and had launched the Orion on her maiden voyage. She had seen her share of crewmembers die and it was never easy. Especially when they were your own crew that you felt responsible for. In her tenure as captain (the Orion was her second ship) she had lost four members of her crew. That was four souls she carried with her daily. She had no desire to make it five.

But there were no options. Nothing in her training or experience that could help Jetsam. There was only a miracle.

The miracle arrived.

"What the..?" said Jabber. Allegria drew closer to the monitor. "What the" indeed!

Digital_Grace heard a shot. Despite her better judgement she raced around the corner to see what happened. She saw the suspicious, rude man running with a gun. He was trying to escape a man that looked to be an undercover officer. It figured the man was up to no good, she thought. She wondered what he had done and if the police or FBI had been staking out the coffee shop. With a boldness she didn’t even consider she tried to get closer. She was happy to see someone was getting in his way. A short, stocky man tried to trip him up. Then, with out warning her world stopped making sense.

The rude man pushed at the man trying to slow him up. There was a strange light that played across the short man’s entire body and then he was the undercover cop that had been running after the rude man. Confused, Digital_Grace looked back to the spot the federal agent had been a second before. There in his place lay an old woman. Grace looked up to see the agent kick the fleeing man with such force that he flew into the air and then across the ice back to an alleyway that was near her. Digital_Grace tried to take a step back from the scene but she was frozen in disbelief. The man struggled on the sidewalk in pain and tried to get up but the agent was there and kicked him again. It looked like the federal agent was about to kick him yet again and Grace wanted to turn away. There was an unemotional, ruthlessness to the agent’s actions and she suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the man on the ground.

The agent seemed completely preoccupied so he didn’t see what happened next.

But Digital_Grace did.

And it made even less sense.

She was turning her head to look away when she saw the figure in the alley. It was the hooded stranger from the coffee shop! The figure raised an arm that held something that Digital_Grace recognized as a sawed-off shotgun. The gun erupted in noise and flame a foot from the agent. There was the weird, static-filled light across his body and he fell to the ground. But not as the government agent but as the short man that tried to trip the man from the coffee shop doorway.

The figure quickly bent down and helped the rude man to his feet. Something was said and the man ducked into the alley running as quick as the ice and his injuries would allow. The hooded figure seemed to scan the area then brought the shotgun back up. Digital_Grace half turned in the direction the gun was pointed and saw the same federal agent emerge from the crowd near her!

"It can’t be," she mumbled to herself. How was this all possible?

The gun roared and Grace simply stood transfixed as the crowd around her ran for safety. There was a blur of motion that was impossibly fast as the agent apparently evaded the shotgun’s blast. Grace’s mind could no longer comprehend what she was seeing. It was all fantasy. She could neither move nor look away.

The federal agent produced a handgun and returned fire. In a similar way the hooded figure managed to duck and weave around each bullets trajectory. They hit nothing until they ricocheted screaming off the outside walls of the shops on the street. One bullet found its way into a window and Digital_Grace heard a muffled scream.

Both figures were trading fire yet neither appeared to hit the other. Still frozen by the unreality she was witnessing she heard a bullet whistle by dangerously close. It snapped the trance and she moved for shelter. She collided with another agent that looked similar, but not identical to the other. He was drawing his weapon and taking aim for the mysterious hooded figure.

Uncannily, the figure seemed to sense the new arrival. The first agent’s gun clicked empty and the figure sprung into action. In a blur she closed the distance between them and grabbed the first agent. The second fired but missed; his bullet entering the crowd and finding rest in the body of a bystander. The hooded figure threw blows of ever increasing speed at the agent until the fists were lost to sight. The agent was countering in a like manner but was not entirely successful. Finally the figure grabbed the agent and launched him at the second.

The agent made an attempt at catching his airborne partner but the force and momentum of the throw was too much and they landed in a heap. They made good time at righting themselves but not before the mysterious figure tossed something to the ground that erupted in huge plumes of dark smoke. Almost instantly the wind carried the smoke to the agents and the crowds.

Digital_Grace found she could soon see nothing. She coughed in the smoke and stumbled about to try and get away from it. She feared the agents, in their reckless abandon, would start firing blindly into the smoke and hit her. Without warning powerful hands grabbed her and lifted her from the ground as if she were a small child. Moments latter she was leaving the smoke and the crowds. She could hear the wail of police sirens approaching and the increasing din of the crowds. The hands loosened their grip and deposited her back on her feet. The person that had pulled her from harm leaned in close behind her, a mouth at her ear. "You are in danger," was all that was said in a raspy whisper. Digital_Grace spun around and saw the strange hooded figure dart away in the deepening gloom of the snow and smoke.

Turning back to the street Digital_Grace got her bearings. She started to run and didn’t stop until she was safe in her apartment again.

Jetsam came out of the matrix full of fear, adrenaline, and pain. His crewmembers aboard the Orion were ready. Jabber had already alerted them as he made the call to pick up Jetsam. They had his body restrained in the chair ready for his return. Their foresight paid off as Jetsam struggled fiercely as his mind returned to his body. He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again wincing in pain. His shoulder was dislocated and he had several bruised ribs. He coughed and the pain intensified. His breath was hot and fast as he spoke. "Who...who the hell was that?" He opened his eyes again and looked about; pupils still dilated in fear.

Allegria looked down at him. "Calm down, Jet. You’re safe." She saw he was still focusing on his brush with the agents. She leaned in close to his face and placed her hands on each side of his head. Sternly she pulled his gaze to hers. "Jetsam!" His breath still coming in short rasps he didn’t focus on her. She raised her voice and put her face in close enough to block out the rest of his field of vision. "Jetsam! You’re home! Calm down!" Finally his gaze met hers and she held it. Slowly his body relaxed and his eyes recognized her. The fear began to wash away replaced by a harsh realization that he had narrowly escaped death in the guise of AI controlled agents in the matrix. Tears welled in his eyes. Allegria didn’t have time for his emotional comprehension. She had to know what had happened. "Suck it up, Jetsam! I need you tell me what happened."

He swallowed and struggled to regain control. Finally he managed to gather himself together. The others undid his restraints and removed his jack. He sat upright. "I...I’m not entirely sure."

"He didn’t show up?" she asked.

"No. I waited where I was suppose to and he never came. He is never late!" Jetsam seemed angry with this. "If he had just shown up on time I would not have had to..."

"You don’t know that. It could have been a set up from the start. They may have been waiting from the start for him to show," Allegria pointed out. "Something drew them to that point and I can’t imagine it was just a random scan of cellular phone communications. They had to have known. They knew he would be there."

"But he wasn’t." Jetsam’s eyes grew wide. "Do you think he may have known and that is why he didn’t show?"

"I don’t know. Perhaps."

Allegria thought for a moment. She turned her head back toward Jetsam. "Who helped you?"

"Don’t you know?" replied Jetsam somewhat surprised.

"You don’t know?" asked Allegria. "You didn’t survive that encounter on your own. And that wasn’t just any Good Samaritan."

"I couldn’t see a face," explained Jetsam. "I was confused and everything was happening so fast. I don’t know who it was."

Allegria stood back from the chair. She gazed off into the mass of cables that stretched across the overhead in every direction. Her senses were telling her something. Telling her something was wrong.

"Do you think it was him?" asked Jetsam. "What did the code show?"

Allegria turned to him, her face a mask of concern. "It didn’t. We couldn’t get a descent reading. Something was interfering with the transmission. We actually lost you for a minute."

Jetsam swallowed. "How is that possible?"

Allegria turned back to looking into the cable runs overhead. "It’s not."

There was a thick silence in the room for several minutes. Finally Jetsam, his sweaty face getting paler again, spoke up. "What...what does that mean, Allegria?"

She didn’t answer or turn to face him again. She couldn’t answer him; she didn’t know.

Finally, "Get Jetsam to the Infirmary and get him fixed up. I’ve got something I have to do." She spun and raced for the Bridge. The others helped Jetsam up and took him away.

"I need an emergency com-link!"

Allegria’s sudden voice caused Gyro to jump in her chair. She turned slightly to look at her captain. "Zion?"

Allegria shook her head. "No, I need a ship to ship call."

"Which ship?" Gyro began to pilot to a suitable location for the transmission. She yanked the headset from a hook near a bank of switches and luminous read-outs.

"The Nebuchadnezzar."

Gyro looked back at her again. "Aren’t they in Zion on a debriefing?"

"No, they are have already left. They should be close enough for a direct link. If not, keep trying. I have to talk to Morpheus immediately!"

The urgency in her voice silenced any further questions Gyro may have had.

Trinity sat quietly in the Galley. Idly she stirred her spork in the bowl of protein soup that sat before her on the table. She wasn’t hungry. The ship was quiet this morning and she enjoyed the solitude the mess decks offered before the rest of the crew had awoken. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted her mind to be still and just drift past each thought without a pause. Thinking stirred memories, memories brought sadness, the sadness carried loneliness, and the loneliness caused worry. And she always worried about Neo.

Almost three weeks now she had not seen Neo. She cradled her last memory of him. But even then she was concerned. She was saying her good-byes at an old warehouse far from the city. She no longer feared being in the matrix. Neo was able to take on any threat. His power and control was increasing. But he was beginning to seem more distant with each meeting, each time they were together. Despite the fact that Trinity knew that Neo no longer had any corporeal form, that he was simply an encoded program running inside the matrix, he was as real to her as he had always been. But on the ship she missed him and ached to return to the matrix to see him. But his preoccupation was bewildering and he would not address it with her.

"What is it, Neo?" Trinity asked as he stared out the window. She approached him and placed her hand softly on his shoulder. He was quick to place his hand atop hers but he did not turn to face her. She fought back the feeling again, the feeling that, little by little, she was losing him. "Please talk to me."

Finally he turned from the window and looked at her. His face was solemn and cold. Slowly it warmed by a smile and the light of his eyes. "What do you see when you look out there?"

"Madness," was his only response and his face momentarily returned to the cold.

The word took her by surprise. She didn’t understand. He must have seen the puzzlement reflect from her face as he suddenly held her. She pushed back and looked at him pleading for answers. "What?"

"Nothing. Don’t worry, so much." He pulled her close again, this time taking strength from her. As if he needed her to maintain his hold on being "real."

The phone rang. Trinity cringed.

"You have to go now. Morpheus is waiting."

"I won’t see you for awhile. We are going to Zion."

"I know. Morpheus told me yesterday. You’ll be back in about 19 days." He pushed her to arm’s length.

"But I..."

"I’ll be here....waiting. It’s not like I can go anywhere!" He smiled at the joke.

The phone continued to ring.

"You better get that. Tank gets mad if you let the machine pick it up." Again the jokes.

She smiled and kissed him. After all, she thought, what could happen? He is the One.

Trinity picked up the phone and held it to her ear. She heard the familiar carrier signal and the strange "tug." Neo’s form seemed to melt into a sea of white and then there was the sudden weighty feel that signaled her return to reality.

She missed him already.

But as Trinity sat at the table aboard the Nebuchadnezzar she fought the memories and forced her mind to drift aimlessly. She knew from experience the more she thought the more she convinced herself that Neo was in trouble.

Morpheus entered the Galley and smiled at Trinity. He grabbed a bowl and dispensed some of the protein glop into it from the kitchen. He sat down across the table from Trinity.

"Why do I know you are sitting there trying not to think about Neo?" He smiled. "Because," he said without waiting for an answer, "that’s what I’ve been doing."

Trinity looked up at Morpheus. "You are worried about him too." It was a mixture of statement and question.

"I am and I don’t know why. He can take care of himself now."

"How do we know that? That is what bothers me so. We don’t know what all the AI can do. I don’t think we’ve seen everything." There was the slightest pause before "everything" that caused an icy finger to run along Morpheus’ spine. He realized Trinity was right. They actually had no idea what the AI was capable of. He didn’t like thinking of what all a machine’s mind could come up with. It had already developed some nightmarish creations.

He placed a hand on top of Trinity’s. "We have to have faith. He is the One. He will win in the end. That is what the Oracle was trying to tell me. I have believed in the One all my life and now that I have found him I have to trust that he will succeed."

He could still see some trepidation in her. A thought came to him. "Trinity, what did you dream last night?"

She hesitated before answering. "I can’t remember. Why?"

"I can’t either. I always remember my dreams."

"What does that mean?"

"I don’t know. Maybe nothing but..."

Tank burst into the Galley. "Message coming in from the Orion. Allegria needs to talk to you right away."

Morpheus jumped up from the table and started for the Bridge. Ship to ship transmissions are used only for urgent messages. There was always the fear that Sentinels could pick up the transmission and use it to locate the ships. So any message needed to be short. He picked up his pace as he climbed to the Bridge.

Sprocket sat at the radio controls. He handed the headset to Morpheus.

"Yes, Allegria. What is it?" Morpheus nodded as he listened. "Are you sure?" He paused as Allegria spoke more. Then finally, "Ok, were are a few hours out. We’ll continue with our schedule and see what happens. I’ll keep you posted." He handed the headset back to Sprocket with a faint nod. Sprocket flipped a switch and the connection was terminated. Slowly Morpheus turned and he saw that Trinity was close behind him having followed him from the mess decks. She saw the look on his face.

"What is it, Morpheus?"

He hesitated for a moment trying to decide exactly what to say. "He didn’t show up for a scheduled rendezvous." He swallowed. "Neo is missing."

A figure made its way down the disserted street. A hooded coat helped keep the wind swept snow out and its identity in. Snow was drifting in corners and against the brick buildings that lined the street. The temperature continued to drop now that the sun had set. The freezing temperature caused the snow to seem dry and crunch and slide under the boots of the figure as it rounded a corner and located a certain address. The hood swiveled as the street was inspected. Spying a small dinner across the street the cloaked figure crossed to it and entered. Shaking the loose snow from the coat the figure took a seat in a booth next to a window that faced out to the street. Soon a waitress approached. A little patch sewn to her blouse said "Enid." She pulled a pencil and pad from her apron pocket. "What can I get for you, sir?"

The figure turned to look at Enid. "Do you have any fresh pie? Apple?"

Enid’s eyes went wide as she looked down at the woman’s face inside the hood. "Uh, I’m sorry, ma’am. I thought..."

"The pie?"

"Um, yes, we have apple pie."

"Could I get a slice, heated, and a cup of black coffee?"

"Sure," and Enid wandered off.

The woman pulled at the hood and it rested on the back of her coat. She sat quietly preferring to gaze out the window. In a few minutes Enid returned with plate and cup. There was a gentle steam and sweet aroma rising from the pie. She sat it down in front of the woman. She caught herself staring. The woman looked up at her. Enid found herself looking at a very pretty woman with compelling gray eyes. Her complexion, while smooth and flawless, was pale. But Enid found herself staring because of the woman’s bald head. It gave her a rather strange, exotic appearance. There was a small design tattooed on the side closest to Enid. The woman arched her dark brows and met Enid’s gaze.

"I think that is all I will be needing." Her tone was pleasant but business like. It was not the voice of one who made idle chit chat, especially with strangers. Enid blinked and walked away stealing a backward glance at the woman in the booth as she approached the counter.

The woman picked up her fork and broke away a piece from the pie. She blew upon it gently then placed it in her mouth. She raised one eyebrow. It was surprisingly good.

A sip of coffee and she turned her attention back to the window.

Shadow began what was to become a long vigil.

"Dammit!"

Allegria spun towards Gyro. She had just finished mapping the Orion’s course with Gyro and was about to leave the Bridge. "What?"

"We’ve got a lock! Sentinel is coming in fast! It caught out signal." Gyro spun her chair to the navigational controls. She hit a couple of switches and the HUD illuminated against the glass. A red blip was rapidly moving across a small map. It was closing on a green, unmoving glow, the Orion.

"Get us out now."

"Right-O," and Gyro spun the ship in the narrow confines of the shaft. The engines’ hum grew in pitch and the ship moved forward.

"Gyro, away from the Sentinel!"

"The tunnel gets too narrow. We would dead-end. I have to get to the next junction before it does."

Allegria looked at the map. She could see the next junction...it would be very close.

"Gyro..."

"There’s nothing you have to tell me I don’t already know. We’ll make it."

The Orion sped down the sewer coming dangerously close to the sides. On one particularly tight bend Allegria could hear metal scraping. She trusted Gyro’s piloting skills. But everyone had his or her limits. She glanced at the map. Silently she swore.

Allegria looked up and peered ahead. Suddenly the junction came into view as the Orion raced forward over a slight bend. Her eyes narrowed as she fought the darkness and murk to see what lay beyond. Was it her imagination or could she movement in the gloom beyond the reach of the ship's lights? Were those tiny red lights piercing the dark?

"Dammit!" yelled Gyro.

"Quit saying that," barked Allegria. "You’ll make it, don’t worry."

"No I won’t," corrected Gyro and she nodded to the HUD. Two new, red blips were moving toward the T-junction. They were coming in fast from the very route the Orion had looked to for escape. The ship was about to be blocked in.

"Call battle stations, Gyro. We make a stand here." Allegria took the chair next to Gyro. The ship slowed and Allegria could finally see the red lights clearly as the Sentinel came into view. Behind her she could hear the claxon of the alert sounding in the ship. She placed the headset on and listened for the other crewmembers to come on line. The other two Sentinels rose quickly out of the junction and raced to catch their brother in the lead. They reminded Allegria of predators, sharks in particular. Caught in a frenzy to attack a helpless prey. Pushing past each other to be the first to rip and tear it asunder. No regret, no remorse, just an unflinching desire to destroy.

Jabber’s voice came over the headset; "Core shut down. EMP ready."

"Shut down all systems. Arm and ready on my mark," replied Allegria. "Gyro, we’ll wait until they are just..."

"DAMMIT!"

"MORE Sentinels?" asked Allegria, barely hiding the annoyance she was beginning to feel.

"I caught a faint transponder echo from a ship!" explained Gyro. "They may be close enough to be affected by the pulse!"

"Can you tell what ship it is?"

"No. It could be the Neb. Should we go ahead?"

Allegria felt the bile rise in her stomach and burn at the back of her throat. She couldn’t use the EMP to disable the approaching Sentinels. She couldn’t take the chance.

"Jabber!" she called into the mic. "Get the defenses on line! We’re going to have to fight this toe to toe!"

There was just enough of a pause for Allegria to tense. Then she knew what his response was to be as it began to come over her headset.

"I...I can’t! All systems are shut down! I have to reinitialize! Shit!"

"Do it!" She heard the metallic clank as the first of the Sentinels landed atop the ship. A second or two later came two more. They were at the hull and the ship was defenseless.

"Jabber?!"

"I can’t switch it all on at once! It’ll blow the power couplings!"

"In a minute it won’t matter."

Jabber was busy flicking switches on the main power dispersion panel. He intently watched the dials creep up from zero. As they approached green he would flip another then another. Each time he waited a little less and the needles would still be low. Sparks crackled from the rear of the panel. He pushed the circuits harder. Above him he could hear the skittering of the Sentinels as they busied themselves on the dismantling of the outer hull. He could hear the hiss of lasers on the cold metal. And above it all he could hear his captain murmur his name impatiently. He had to have the defenses online NOW! He threw four switches in a panic. "There!" he yelled. "Weapons and defenses are on..." The loud bark of electricity rebelling against his demands stopped him in mid-word. A plume of smoke and flame erupted behind the panel. Several meters went dead. He backed away out of fear then threw himself back at the panel slapping switches off to try and regain control of the power.

"Jabber?! What happened?!"

"It blew. I pushed it too fast."

Allegria jumped from her chair. She pushed by Gyro and looked at the control panel. She secretly hoped at least one defense, one weapon, was still active. The weapons console was dark. Completely dark. She looked out the forward window into the freezing gloom and darkness of the sewer ahead. It was a lonely place to die.

Digital_Grace slammed the door and threw the bolt and chain. She leaned against it panting. This had to be the strangest day of her life. She turned and glanced out the peephole. There was no one there. She sighed, looked one more time, and then moved away from the door. She walked over to the computer that took up much of her tiny kitchen table first grabbing a coke from the fridge before settling in at the table/desk combo. She poked the master toggle on the surge protector and her computer whirred alive. Digital_Grace had it set up to connect straight to the internet on boot up. Impatiently she waited for the connection to go through, silently cursing for not upgrading to DSL. She was suddenly aware of how exhausted she felt. The toll of the strange dream and events near the coffee shop had caught up to her. Finally the computer connected and she immediately started up ICQ.

"Oh please be on, please be on," she chanted as she waited for her contact list to refresh. Grace was suddenly aware of how tired she felt. The stress and strain of the day was taking its toll. "Yes!" She saw the name appear and clicked on it to send her message.

"Nerf! You won’t believe what happened to me today!"

Seconds later Nerf’s response popped up in a window. "Hey D_G. What happened?"

"I won’t even go into the dream I had," she typed. "But I went out for a break and I saw something I can’t explain!"

Nerf returned with, "What? I heard about something going down in your area. You weren’t involved were you?"

"What did you hear?"

The window popped up with, "That it was a disruption caused by some Feds tracking one of the so-called *Matrix Terrorists* and he shot some people. Are you ok?"

Matrix Terrorists! Grace thought a moment about what she had heard. There was a lot of information in the news lately about the Matrix. It was a secret underground group of radicals that believed in random acts of terrorism. They allegedly recruited from the public and had some way of brainwashing their potentials with drugs. They were immensely feared by the general public and highly sought after by the government. She had seen the public service messages on television. The government even offered rewards for information. It was the Matrix that was being blamed for the disaster almost a week ago that supposedly wiped out an entire neighborhood on the other side of town.

Had she really encountered one today? It certainly made sense! Then the strange actions that occurred during the struggle slapped her mind back to the total unreality of it all; Matrix Terrorists of not.

"I am OK," she typed. "I am a little shaken up. I was there!"

"Whoa!"

"But there is something else."

"What?"

"I was right there when they fought. I saw everything."

There was a pause before Nerf’s reply came back. "What did you see?"

"They didn’t move like real people. They could dodge bullets, Nerf! I saw it!"

His response was immediate, almost as if he had it ready prior to receiving her response. "Tell me everything you saw."

Digital_Grace described, as best she could, the bizarre things she had witnessed. She began with the coffee shop and ended with the mysterious figure that took her out of harm’s way and gave her a warning. When she had finally finished relaying all the information to Nerf, she was surprised to get a "be right back" message in reply.

She waited.

She felt the tiredness grow to complete exhaustion. Her mind began to fog over and she had to snap herself back to attention. She reached to take a sip of the can of coke that rested near her. She thought the caffeine might help her refocus. Just as she was about to touch the can she became aware that it was getting very cold in her apartment. Her breath curled up in a whisper of steam. An alarm went off in her mind and she was suddenly scared, her mind connecting to the cold of her dream that morning. He fingers touched the can and she immediately pulled them back. The canned had burned her. Burned with cold!

She could see the sides bulge from the frozen liquid inside. Frost was now apparent along the familiar red design. "Not again" was her only thought.

Grace turned her head to survey the room. What nightmare awaited her now? But her head seemed to tilt and swivel with a steadfast slowness despite any urgency she tried to coax. After what seemed minutes she had finished her sweep. No sign of the metal man or the invading cables. She relaxed slightly and awaited Nerf’s next message window. And indeed a message window did pop up on the screen. But it wasn’t from Nerf. It simply said, "Cold." She looked to see whom it was from. There was a name there but for some reason she couldn’t read it. The characters, while familiar, could not decipher themselves in her mind. It was like her mind would not focus. She stained to no avail.

Grace moved her mouse to click on the "reply" button on the message window. It was cold and heavy. She could barely move it. Determined, she placed her other hand on the mouse and attempted to drag it across the pad. Ever so slowly it moved. Her muscles ached, her body leaning over the side of her chair as she put her entire weight into the effort. Oddly, she did not hesitate to wonder what was causing the seemingly impossible problem. She only knew she must get the cursor to the reply box; her mind completely fixated on the goal.

Nearly exhausted Digital_Grace managed to inch the pointer to its destination. She clicked the mouse’s left most button. It fought the action just like it fought everything she wanted. Its resistance was obstinate, personal. It didn’t want her to succeed. It took pleasure in her wearied attempts. It mocked her. She was becoming angry. How dare this tiny device defy her! In her rage she brought her hand up over her head and brought it crashing down with all her strength on the tiny mouse controller.

The button activated. The mouse shattered. Grace screamed.

There, under her tightly clenched fist, lay the remains of the device. But it was not the bits of broken plastic one would have expected. Instead there was a pulpy mass of blood, tiny organs, and flesh. And laced through out were tiny coils of wire.

Immediately Digital_Grace raised her hand in horror. But the horror had only just begun. With a savage hiss the "mouse-thing" drew its remains into an undistinguishable mass that appeared to rise up in a defensive posture. The one-time navigating ball had become an eye of white and red staring at her. Repulsed, Grace attempted to scoot her chair and herself away from the repugnant thing.

The chair would not move.

With the kind of sudden realization that caused the short hairs of her neck rise, she looked down at the chair. It was no longer what one would call a chair. It was an amalgam of organic tissue and inorganic bundles of wires. Something looked back at her. She was sure her heart would stop in white-hot fear. She started to throw herself free of the hideous monstrosity when the "chair" reacted. The bundles of silvery wire burst free of the connective tissue amongst splashes of blood and liquids she could not recognize. The cables seized her and held her fast to the spot. The coils looping, tightening, stabbing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the "mouse-thing" moving toward her. It was still tethered to the computer by a now pulsing cable. It leaped to her lap and began its slow crawl/climb the length of her towards her head.

Grace began to tremble. She could feel the tiny threads of sanity starting to pull free in her mind. She looked away from it and back to the screen. The reply box was open. She could see not words but something else. Something moving in the black. Taking her attention from the horror all about her she fixated on the small black window. Then suddenly she could see it. A face. A face that merged seamlessly with its background. Once she had found its form she could easily recognize it.

It was the face of the metal man that had visited her in her dream. He was talking again and again he was repeating one word over and over silently. She kept her attention on him despite the now wet sensation moving on her neck. She mimicked his lip’s movements. The word became clear.

Help.

Then his face erupted into intense pain and Grace could feel his pain. His loneliness. His fear. His cold.

The sides of her monitor exploded and large cables shot from it to enwrap themselves about her head. Tiny wires splayed from the ends and found their way under her skin, her scalp.

Then, with a force she could not fight, the coils pulled her toward the screen of the monitor. She had not the strength to slow the pull. The slippery wetness of the mouse-thing was at the back of her neck. Her face grew closer to the screen. She whimpered.

There was a sharp pain at the base of her skull as something entered. Her face came in contact with the monitor screen.

It passed through.

Her eyes had instinctively clamped shut as her head hit the screen. She felt the sensation of her face being shoved through the thin ice of a frozen pond, icy water swirling all around. She kept her eyes closed.

And then there was the noise.

The sounds of a thousand modems screeching and wailing. The deep rhythmic hum of powerful electricity. The snap and crackle of tiny arcs of static dissipating into nothingness. And, somewhere far off, the sound of giant thumping machines.

She opened her eyes.

She was back at her desk/table staring at her monitor. The room was quiet. She felt her face and head. They were just as they had always been. Another dream?

On the screen was the message from Nerf she had been waiting for. Carefully she read it.

"Do NOT talk to anyone about this!!! PLEASE! It is very important!!! Meet me tomorrow at 9AM at the place we first met! You have to. I can explain then. I have to sign off now. BE THERE!!! And be careful!"

Grace’s heart was still beating rapidly and her breath was still short puffs of emotion. Had she fallen asleep waiting for Nerf’s reply? And why the mysterious message? She reached down for her mouse to see if he had indeed signed off. She immediately pulled her hand back in fear.

The mouse lay shattered on her table. Shards of plastic strewn about from an obvious impact.

Her first impulse was to scream but she was unable.

She had fainted.

"Where could he be?!"

Trinity was doing her best to remain calm. It was only partially working. She was pacing in Morpheus’ quarters while he sat on his bunk. There was only one chair and he urged her to take it. She refused, preferring to burn off her nervous energy.

"Maybe he was aware of the ambush? Decided to stay away rather than put Jetsam at risk," offered Morpheus.

Trinity stopped and looked at Morpheus. "You know that is not true. He is beyond that. Agents are no longer a threat to him," she argued. She began to pace again.

"But the AI is." She stopped but didn’t turn to look at Morpheus. "He still has to bide his time until we determine the best course of action against the AI. He has been researching it while we were gone. He met weekly with someone from the Orion to keep them posted and to get information from Zion."

"I know all that."

"But you don’t know that he told them at his last meeting that he was on the verge of a breakthrough."

Trinity spun to face him. The look on her face confirmed her lack of awareness. "What breakthrough?"

"Neo didn’t say. He was to have more information at this meeting. But something happened. He didn’t show up at the prearranged place. But that could have been because of the agents."

"Or that something has happened to him!"

Morpheus could see that Trinity was getting increasingly worried. He couldn’t deny it, he was also. "But don’t forget that someone intervened and saved Jetsam from the agents. From his description the person had abilities similar to agents."

"You think it was Neo?" There was hope in that question.

"Who else could it have been?" Morpheus smiled.

"I just have this feeling..." She didn’t finish.

"We’ll be at broadcast depth in an hour. We’ll know more then."

Trinity smiled and left. Morpheus closed the door behind her. He shivered. It seemed colder than usual.

The phone was ringing. Digital_Grace awoke into the heaviness of consciousness from her sleep. Groggy, she pulled at the pillow and it tried to block the annoying jangle. She released a small sigh of satisfaction when the sound finally stopped but was dismayed to then hear the voice being recorded by the answering machine. "Ms. Pendleton? This is Mr. Carson of TB&D calling in regards to the project you are currently working on for us. We have come up with a few changes we would like you to implement. If you could contact me, we would like to meet..."

Grace shot up out of bed. She quickly looked at the clock. The events of the previous night came back to her in a flood of disjointed images. The strange and incredible things she had experienced merged together and she had difficulty establishing what was real and what was a dream. Had she really seen the scene in the street? The ICQ conversation with Nerf? The attack by her computer?

"...please give us a call Ms. Pendleton as soon as you can." The answering machine clicked off as the caller hung up.

8:30.

If her memory served her correctly, and she doubted it right now, she was to meet Nerf at 9:00. Cautiously she eased out of bed and edged toward the table. She peeked around to look at the monitor. It was currently "asleep," as was the processor. Noticing the broken mouse shattered on the table top she gingerly poked at the keyboard fully ready to bolt from the apartment and never return should anything...move.

The computer whirred alive and the monitor slowly began to glow. She wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad that the message he had sent was still on the screen but there it was pleading her to meet him at 9:00 at the place they had first met...the library. She would need to hurry. She rushed to the bathroom to compose herself before grabbing her coat and darting out the door.

She came down the stairs at almost a run. On the street she squinted in the bright sun. The sky was clear but the temperature was still cold. A slight breeze only added to the chill. The snow from the day before still clung to the ground in hard, crunchy patches. Spotting the diner across the street she decided to grab a cup of coffee to fight the cold and to help clear her head. Crossing the street she entered and took a seat at the counter.

It was busy but not overly crowded. She managed to get a waitress’s attention. "Cup of coffee to go. Black." Moments later she was settling up her bill and heading for the door. She stopped. Her eye caught a strange looking woman sitting alone in a booth by the front of the diner. She was looking out the window at the street and buildings beyond. She was bald. But that was not what drew Digital_Grace’s attention. There was something familiar about her. Something about the way she was sitting, looking out the window. It reminded her of something. A sense of deja vu. What it was she couldn’t be sure and she had no time to waste standing there and thinking about it. She slapped on her sunglasses and went on her way.

Running up the stairs to the platform Grace barely caught the train. It was a short trip to the station by the library. She threw herself into a seat. She began to think. What the hell was happening to her? It was all so strange. Was she losing her mind?

She was glad that she was going to go see Nerf. He was a good friend. He might be able to help. He didn’t know about the "dreams" she had been having suddenly. She wasn’t sure, good friend or not, whether to share those with him. But even with what she had told him he seemed willing to help although mysteriously. Something about his request, the secrecy, caused her some alarm. What was it he knew she didn’t? At least she wouldn’t be alone. That thought calmed her.

She started to drift off.

The clanking of the Sentinels was growing larger. In moments they would burrow below the hull and invade the ship. The weapons panel still lay dark against the rest of the console. Jabber’s voice came through clear on Allegria’s headset. "The weapons’ circuits are fused! I have to replace them to get any kinda power to them. It’ll be too late!" Allegria’s silence was all the answer he needed. "I’ll get the rest of us armed and ready. What I wouldn’t give for a huge friggin’ flyswatter!" The attempt at humor only added contrast to the desperation of the situation.

Allegria smiled slightly as she bowed her head in frustration. She should have seen this coming. She should have been ready. But if she didn’t find a solution soon she would have all eternity to play "What if?" the tenseness of the situation made her chuckle slightly thinking of Jabber with a huge flyswatter smashing Sentinels.

Smashing!

Her head swung up and she spun towards Gyro. She looked down on the panel situated in front of her. A green light above the label "engines."

"Move."

Immediately Gyro jumped out of the pilots chair and stood back. Allegria took her spot and strapped herself in. "Buckle up everyone. It’s going to get rough!" Allegria was an accomplished pilot; all ship captains had to be. But she was one of the better ones having spent a year as a pilot before getting her own ship. She fired the engines and throttled forward. The huge hover engines crackled alive and the ship roared forward. She increased her speed.

She yanked the controls and the ship spun and raced back the way it had become. She pushed the throttle harder.

"Alle! I told you that tunnel gets too narrow!" reminded Gyro.

Allegria’s hand came up to silence her. She got the speed a little higher yet. She could notice the gentle slope of the tunnel’s sides constricting. Soon there would be no room.

With determination she forced the controls back. The nose of the ship darted up sharply. Gyro clamped her eyes shut as she readied for the inevitable impact against the sewer’s upper surface. Juggling between the readouts, her view out the forward window, and instinct, Allegria put the ship into a slight roll. There was immediately the unmistakable scream of metal on metal. Allegria leaned the ship into the source of the noise. Then there was a sudden surge and the noise stopped for a moment. Gyro’s eyes flew open. "You scraped a Sentinel off!" Allegria ignored her. The ship buffeted against the wall of the tunnel; this time the scraping noise more intense as the hull itself came in contact.

Allegria quickly rolled the ship until she felt the resistance of another Sentinel. She eased back slightly from the sewer’s surface and then slammed the controls again. The Sentinel was bashed between the two surfaces. It struggled but had to succumb to the forces playing against it. Its metallic body flying apart as if rubbed against a cheese grater. The last of it finally flying off behind the ship into the dark as its tiny artificial brain sheared apart.

Allegria knew there was a third one. She could hear it skitter across the hull trying to evade her attempts to knock it free. The corridor was narrowing severely and Allegria would need to stop soon or the ship would wedge itself into the sewer, pulling the engines free of the ship.

There was a crack against the window as one of the Sentinel’s tentacles smashed against it. Allegria jumped. The huge creature shambled into view as it sought safety on the nose of the ship. It seemed to be having difficulty finding a stable purchase. Allegria spun the ship and bucked it against the sides of the sewer but it continued to hang and claw on the surface of the ship; its red eyes blazing at Allegria.

She glanced at the heads up display. There was a sharp bend in the tunnel just ahead, right as it reduced to an impossible diameter for the Orion to pass. Allegria pushed the throttle to full. Gyro clamped her eyes shut again.

"Get off me, godammit!" yelled Allegria and she jammed the engines into reverse.

There was the protest of metal and engines alike as they fought to overwrite the physical law of inertia. Allegria and Gyro’s bodies strained against the seat harnesses as small tools and odds and ends flew past them. Something hard hit Allegria in the back of the head as it spun by her to collide with the window. Behind her Gyro could hear metal pulling at welds and bolts mixed amongst the surprised yells of her crewmates. It sounded like everything in the ship was finding its way to the bridge.

The Sentinel, unable to keep a substantial enough hold on the ship flew backward off the ship at high speed. Allegria could see it trying to right itself, stabilize its flight. But it did not succeed before it smashed itself into the side of the tunnel as it made a sharp ninety-degree turn. Allegria could just see the red of its eyes dim to black as its remains slid down the tunnel out of sight. The ship flew backwards down the sewer until there was once again substantial space to turn. Allegria then cut its forward progress and unbuckled from the chair.

As she left the bridge she patted Gyro on the shoulder causing her to finally open her eyes.

"Get us the hell out of here."

She awoke with a start as she normally would if she accidentally nods off. That little alarm that seems to yell, "You’re not suppose to be asleep!" She shivered and looked out the windows of the train. It was dark. Completely dark. Had she been asleep for hours? Then she noticed there wasn’t anyone on the train but her. Her and one person sitting right next to her. She hated that. A hundred empty seats on the train and they sit right next to you! Really close next to you! She turned to ask the person if they could move. She stopped.

It was the man from her nightmares. He was looking straight at her, his face inches away. His skin was more silver now, more polished. She could see her reflection in his face. He looked concerned, worried. He razed a hand to touch her. She backed away.

She awoke with a start as she normally would if she accidentally nods off. She had been dreaming again. She was on the train and it was pulling into her stop. As the doors opened she bolted for the door. She wanted to get as far from the train as she could.

She didn’t notice the figure with the hooded coat get off right after her and follow at a subtle distance.

Digital Grace saw Nerf standing in front of the library. He was shuffling his feat as if either cold or nervous and looked relived to see her as she started up the steps. She gave him a huge welcome hug and smile. She was so glad to see him. It gave her suddenly strange life a more tenacious hold on reality.

"I am so glad to see you!" she exclaimed.

"Me too. I am glad you came." His smile faded away. "You didn’t tell anybody else about what happened, did you? Or that you were meeting me here?"

"No. Of course not." She was starting to feel edgy at Nerf’s questions. He was not normally this way. Never paranoid. "What’s going on? Why all the mystery?"

"C’mon, follow me." They entered the library. It was fairly empty, as it had just opened. Nerf guided her to a secluded back corner. There was a reading table there, at which he indicated they should sit. It was situated so that they could not be overheard. And if anyone approached he would be able to see them well in advance. He had grabbed a couple of books at random from a shelf and he laid them on the table. A lot of trouble to put up a charade, thought Digital_Grace. It made her even more nervous.

"What’s this all about, Nerf?" why all this?" She spread her hands at the books and secluded location.

"There is something I have to talk to you about."

"Are you in trouble? Am I?"

"We both might be!" He tried to force a smile.

"Why? I haven’t done anything!"

"Shhhh, keep your voice down. I’m not saying trouble like that. I have some things I need to talk to you about. Things that might sound strange and unbelievable."

Grace almost had to laugh. If he only knew what strange and unbelievable really were! "I’m listening."

"Are you a religious person?"

"Nerf, have you joined some religious cult? Are you a Jehovah’s Witness now?"

"No! No. But it may be considered a cult." Digital_Grace rolled her eyes. "Wait! You know me. I’m as rational as the next guy but I have to tell you about this because like it or not...you are involved."

Grace frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The Matrix."

"The terrorist group?"

"No, they aren’t terrorists."

"Oh, I see, religious zealots bent on converting the world one corpse at a time."

"That’s not it, Grace. Listen. You have to trust me."

She folded her arms across her chest. She was skeptical.

"Because of the events you described to me I knew I should tell you about this. You NEED to know what really happened." Nerf seemed adamant. He looked at his watch. "We have to go."

"Where?"

"I can’t explain it all, you need to be shown."

"Shown what? I’m not going anywhere with you, Nerf. You’re scaring me. And, believe me, I don’t need more of that these days!"

"Grace...please. I just want to show you. If you want to leave after that I won’t even try and stop you. I swear!"

She thought about it hard. She really thought she could trust Nerf. They had been close friends for over three years. And there was always the chance it could explain at least one part of the insanity that had been the last two days of her life.

"Alright. But when I say go...we go! No questions, no hesitation."

"Yes. I promise."

"Do we have to take the train?"

"No. We can walk, it’s not far."

They both left the library and went out onto the street. It was still early and there were not a lot of people about yet. They started east and walked for several blocks. Nerf was strangely quiet making only the slightest effort at small talk. He seemed more preoccupied in keeping an eye out for something. Digital_Grace got the distinct feeling he was keeping a look out to see if they were followed.

They headed south a bit later. They had been walking for a time and Grace was about to ask how much further when Nerf stopped.

"We are here."

She looked around at the area. Not the best kept part of the city, that was for sure. At some point it had been important but now it was much quieter, neglected. There were some closed down shops, even a hotel. Not a place she would want to be alone, at night.

They were near an alley. "What?" asked Grace looking for something that stood out.

"Here," indicated Nerf, pointing. She looked down and saw a small stairwell leading to a darkened doorway. She had some trepidation about journeyed down there. But Nerf was already walking down the stairs at a fast clip. "C’mon!"

She eased down the stairs. At the bottom there was a small hand-printed sign tapped haphazardly on the front of the door with a piece of duct tape. It read. "CoN." The door itself looked grimy and aged. There was a large drift of snow in one corner; obviously pushed aside by the opening of the door. Nerf knocked at the door lightly. It was then that Digital_Grace noticed the peephole in the door. She was sure someone was looking out at then now.

Finally the door opened and Nerf guided her into the darkened area. It was musty and stale but at least it was warmer, thought Grace. They made their way down the narrow hall. She looked back to see who had opened the door but the figure was already bathed in the gloom of shadows as he or she closed the door behind them.

Finally they came to another door illuminated under a lone, bare bulb. Nerf, a look of anticipation on his face, opened the door. They stepped through.

Grace looked around the large room. It was not what she had expected at all.

Nerf looked back at her, satisfied with the look on her face. "Welcome, Grace. Welcome to the Church of Neo."

Morpheus settled into the chair. He had done this a thousand times yet this time he felt a certain apprehension that he could not understand. Jacking in to the matrix was something he was familiar with, he understood. He had no real reason to feel nervous. And yet he was. He looked down at his hands and noticed a slight tremble so he gripped the armrests. Sprocket finished prepping the station and inserted the jack into the hole near the base of his skull that he had had since "birth." There was the normal slight tingle and then he waited. He could see out of the corner of his eye Trinity to his left. And just beyond her, Loki. He was one of the three new crewmembers they had taken on at Zion.

Trinity appeared calm but Morpheus knew she was feeling the same as he was, possibly worse. Something was wrong; he could feel it deep down in the instinctive part of himself. The part that was grounded in a science yet to be discovered. No matter how he tried to reason it away, it returned a little stronger, a little more assured. It was Neo. He was in trouble and Morpheus wasn’t sure if he could help.

Morpheus had wanted to see Neo. He wanted to say thank you. Thank you for the sacrifices, the selfless acts, for not giving up. But more over he wanted to apologize. It needed to be said. Neo was the One and Zion had doubted him. They had all but turned their backs on him by sending Hardwire out to possibly kill him. Or at the very least, cripple him. And Hardwire had succeeded on both counts. He had managed to cripple Neo to the point that he was killed. And Morpheus, Trinity, and the entire crew of the Nebuchadnezzar were almost killed right along with Neo. It was this growing taste of government bureaucracy in Zion that was starting to sour Morpheus. They didn’t trust Neo.

But, in reflection, Morpheus also blamed himself. He had begun to doubt and to fear. He was the one that made reports to Zion about Neo. He had peppered those with his own observations and insights and had helped plant the seeds of doubt in the Council’s mindset. But in doing that he had lost something that he was still trying to reclaim. And he knew Neo would have it.

"Set," remarked Sprocket. He gave a thumbs-up to Tank.

"Ok. I’m a little rusty at this. Let’s see..." Tank paused. "What does this do?"

Morpheus managed a chuckle at Tank’s joke. Then there was the burst of warmth and race of sparks across his brain and his world dissolved to white before slid into the world of the matrix.

He quickly looked around. Trinity and Loki were at his side, Loki’s gun at the ready. The room was dark. He could tell from the small windows near the ceiling that they were in a basement. Trinity walked over and picked up the ringing phone. "We’re in," was all she said before returning the receiver. She turned and looked at Morpheus, "Looks like a repair shop." Morpheus nodded as he surveyed the room around them. Pieces of televisions, VCRs, and stereo systems lay across tables; a complete unit was nowhere to be seen. The air smelled old. What light there was filtered from streetlights through the grime smeared windows. Morpheus moved toward the only exit he could see. The door was locked and a security gate was drawn across it. It had opened to a small stairway that led to street level. The aged lettering on the door informed him they were inside "Stan’s TV and Radio Repair." A small sign was taped on the inside of the door facing the street. Morpheus pulled it free of its tape and read it. In scrawled, hasty letters it stated, "Out of business. Thanks for all the years. Stan."

Morpheus tried the door. Locked. The gate outside looked formidable. It would take time to break through. "Look for another way out...a back door." The three made their way through the gloom towards the back of the store. There Loki discovered a storeroom.

"Here," he said in a low voice. The others came to him. The door was latched from the inside and Loki gave it a trial push with his shoulder. It creaked in protest. He stepped back and kicked the door just where he imagined the latch resided on the other side. The wood splintered and the door gave way with a minimum of noise. Beyond was only darkness.

Morpheus motioned for them to step inside. He eased the door closed behind them. What very little visibility they had before was now reduced to none. The room was pitch black. And cold. "Check the walls. If we are lucky there is still electricity. Find a light switch." The others could be heard shuffling slowly in the dark. Someone bumped into something and metallic items clattered to the floor.

"Here," said Trinity. "I think I’ve found one."

There was a click and a fluorescent fixture started to hum then blinked on. The pale, cold light revealed a door that looked to lead out. But none of them noticed. The light had revealed so much more.

"Oh my God."

"I need you to go out and inspect the damage, Gyro. Take Getch with you," instructed Allegria. She walked over to Jabber who was still busy at work on the power panel. "Can you fix it?"

"Please," said Jabber rolling his eyes.

"Then the question is how long?"

Jabber wiped at his forehead with a sleeve. "Fix it right? Or just ‘good-enough’?"

"Both. I don’t want to be sitting here waiting for more of those damn things to come looking for us."

"We should be deep enough now that they won’t."

"There isn’t anywhere deep enough. Last week a ship destroyed a Sentinel four miles from Zion!"

"Shit!" Jabber’s eyes grew large with worry. "They have never been that close before!"

"I know. But it was. Now how long?"

"We are outa here in three hours."

"Make it two," and Allegria walked away towards the crews quarters.

Jabber watched her walk away. Four miles. He turned back to his work slightly more determined.

"Shit."

Gyro bent and inspected the hull plate. It was scarred and pitted. Burn marks from a Sentinel’s laser had etched a deep cut across a large section. Gyro knew she could fix that. It was not a huge concern unlike the plate located across the sloping surface of the Orion. There a corner had been pried free of its weld and torn along another cut. That wasn’t good. It would take some time to fix...if she could fix it at all!

"That doesn’t look good," came Getch’s voice behind her. She turned and saw him holding his lifeline taught in his hands. He was obviously uncomfortable about being outside the ship.

"It’s not. We have to get this repaired before we can ever return to Zion."

"Duh. I know the water would get in if there were any holes in the hull. But you can patch it up right?" The last was tinged with a little apprehension.

Gyro looked a slightly annoyed at Getch. "You don’t understand. I can’t just patch it up."

"Why?"

"There is a lot of pressure on the ship at that depth," explained Gyro. If the hull has any imperfections it could rupture and we would all be crushed inside." Getch looked a little more nervous.

"Well, you can fix it right, can’t you?"

Gyro looked back down at the torn metal of the ship’s skin. "I sure hope so."

Getch eased closer to her. When she looked up his eyes were pleading. "You have to!"

"Quit whining. The worst case is that we have to replace the section. Zion could get it out to us in a few weeks." Getch didn’t seem to find much solace in that. "Listen, Getch. We have to get this at least patched to protect us from the elements and any future attacks. Will you help me or do I have to get someone else?" Gyro was growing impatient with him. She didn’t have time to coddle him or watch out for him. She had a job to do and Allegria was counting on her to get the ship fixed.

Getch swallowed and seemed to pull himself together. "Alright. I’ll help."

Gyro smiled and nodded. "Then lets get this panel off and see what we can do."

"Right!" Getch’s voice had become more confident, his panic gone or at least hidden. They turned to retrace their path to the hatch. As they neared Gyro happened to look back toward the tail of the ship. She stopped in her tracks.

"Dammit!"

Getch stopped immediately at her exclamation. He looked at her then followed her gaze. His eyes narrowed. "What?" Then he finally saw what Gyro had spotted. "Oh shit." The confidence was gone.

Shadow had been following Digital_Grace since she left the diner. Following someone was something she did well. She had trouble remembering a time when she hadn’t followed someone. It was how she got her name, although if she tried to think back she wasn’t sure which had come first...the job or the name.

Shadow eased onto the train and sat quickly several people down from Digital_Grace but across so as to keep an eye on her.

The job or the name. Shadow did not like to try and remember things like that. She didn’t like to think of the past, her past, any past. She fought to keep her mind in the present, always in the present. On occasion she would have to remember a detail from before but for the most part those details were neatly filed in her memory for easy access. But there was a point that she never desired to cross. A point in her mind that she steered clear of. Memories of her earlier life that were confusing and painful.

Sometimes, despite her discipline, a dusty image or recollection would burst upon her conscious mind full of unfamiliarity and unanswered questions. Almost as quickly she would force it back to the basement it had escaped from. She had neither the time nor desire to try and piece the odd fragments together. She had a mission. And that mission was her sole purpose for being. It was the center of her life and she never doubted or questioned it. It simply was.

And that was good enough for her.

One time a person had asked her why she did what she does. Her reply was as simple as she could explain. "It is what I do." It made perfect sense to her unquestioning mind. But it pissed the other person off.

Digital_Grace had dozed off for a moment and Shadow felt something. A presence. But Digital_Grace awoke rather suddenly and the sensation was gone as quickly as it had come. But it was familiar in a strange way. Before Shadow could try and analyze the feeling Digital_Grace ran from the train as it stopped at the next station. Shadow was again following her.

Shadow kept her distance as her quarry picked her way through the streets finally arriving at a library. Shadow watched discreetly as she met a young, nervous looking man near the entrance. He looked to be a few years younger than Digital_Grace and a little shorter. His thin glasses gave him a bookish appearance. They hugged and Shadow got the feeling that they were old friends. They walked into the library and Shadow followed.

The quiet of the morning library was deafening. The building was large and sparsely populated. She easily kept her eye on the couple as they made for a secluded spot near the rear of the library. As they took a table Shadow found another some distance from them with a bookcase between them. She could easily watch them over the top of the books yet remain out of plain sight.

As she watched she could tell the boy had feelings for Digital_Grace that reached beyond friendship. There was something in the way he looked at her. That lingering gaze, that mild intensity that was impossible to see if directed at you but easily noticed by a sharp observer. For a fleeting moment Shadow wondered if anyone had ever looked at her that way.

She shook her head violently to remove the disturbing thought from her mind. It was not productive. It distracted from her mission. She happened to look down for a moment to refocus her thoughts.

On the table before her were a few books and magazines. Something on a partially obscured magazine cover caught her eye. An outstretched hand lying on the ground. She was compelled to move the book atop it aside to see the rest. Slowly, almost as if she was watching someone else do it, she slid the book away. The magazine cover showed a picture of a man, shot and bleeding, laying in the street near the curb. At his side a woman was kneeling.

Shadow felt something explode in her mind. A memory so vivid that it actually caused her pain. She clamped her eyes shut and let out a small gasp. The intense recollection enveloped her brain and she became disoriented.

She was there, in the street. The man was at her knees. He looked different but was in the same broken pose. She reached out to touch him, to help him, to protect him. She cradled his head in her lap as blood stained her skirt, her hands. He was dead. She screamed out a cry as tears burst from her eyes. A giant, immediate emptiness ripped through her body.

Shadow suddenly stood up straight as the tail end of the memory ebbed from her mind. Her breath was short and fast. Her eyes were wet with tears. A man was looking at her from a near by shelf. Had she cried out?

As the thoughts dispersed her mission reasserted itself. She bent to look past the books at the table where Digital_Grace and the young man sat.

They were gone!

In seconds Shadow was out the front door. She quickly looked both ways down the street but neither of them was in sight. She began to run. She spiraled out from the location looking for any sign. Two hours later she abandoned the search. It was now futile. Only by the purest of luck would she ever encounter them.

She was soon on the train back to Digital_Grace’s apartment. She hoped she could reacquire her there.

Deep down inside she could still feel the emptiness. She did her best to bury it.

Allegria sat in her quarters. She was thinking; running her decisions over and over in her mind. Each step of the attack was gone over, sifted, looking for the mistakes. She didn’t do this to berate herself but to learn, to improve her performance in the future. She took the command of the Orion very seriously. Too many people relied on her and there was too much in the balance of the war they were all fighting. Mistakes were something that could barely be tolerated once, let alone repeated.

The battle with the three Sentinels had been too close. Allegria felt it was only by luck that she managed to get the ship and crew out of danger. Now all they needed was a little time to make repairs and they would be back in the fray. It was a good thing the damage wasn’t more severe.

There was the smallest of a courtesy knock at her hatch before Gyro bolted in. Getch was in tow.

"What?" asked Allegria a bit annoyed at their breaking of her concentration.

"We are in trouble," was Gyro’s somewhat breathless, short reply.

Allegria’s first thought was that more Sentinels had located them and were moving in for the kill. But something like that would have manifested itself in Gyro as fear. But Allegria knew Gyro and it wasn’t fear that caused her excitement. It was concern. "What is it, Gyro?"

Gyro managed a swallow to catch her breath. "You should come and see. It’s not good."

"I gathered as much." They all left her cabin and made their way aft. Soon they arrived at the ladder leading to the outer hatch. Allegria suited up as Gyro took the lead up the ladder. After they had all grouped atop the ship Gyro pointed toward the stern.

It was cold. Allegria had to brace herself against it. She shivered and peered in the direction of Gyro’s hand. It took her a few moments to realize that she wasn’t looking for something, but rather, for the lack of something. The entire antenna assembly was sheared from the ship. The dread made her feel even colder.

They were cut off from the rest of their kind. They could not contact other ships and they could not hack into the matrix. But worst of all they could not communicate with Zion. Even the radio-cable interface arm was gone. This was really bad. There was only one thing that could make it worse.

Allegria turned to Gyro. "Please tell me you can repair the damage to the hull."

Gyro hesitated in her reply. She looked back at the tears in the ship. Slowly she turned her head back to look at Allegria. Gyro began to shake her head slightly. "It looks really severe. I don’t think we can fix it with what we have aboard."

Allegria stared down the murky corridor of the tunnel. That was the one thing.

"Oh my God."

Trinity didn’t know what else to say. She had seen a lot of things during her trips into the matrix and felt that there was little the matrix could throw at her that would be of any real surprise. She had learned about bending what she used to think impossible; breaking rules she had always taken for granted as a constant. Yet right now she knew she was looking beyond even that. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. It almost defied description.

But oddly, despite her never seeing anything like it, she instinctively knew what it was.

It was a hole in the matrix.

Loki approached it cautiously his gun still drawn as if it might lash out at him if it sensed his presence. "Loki! Don’t get too close," cautioned Morpheus. Trinity looked over at Morpheus and saw an odd expression on his face. Was it a look of wonder? Did he carry the slightest of smiles? He turned to her. "Trinity? Do you know what that is?"

She nodded, "A hole in the matrix."

"Yes." He started to ease toward it.

Loki was now quite near it. He leaned his head in close. "It’s not making any kind of noise that I can tell." He started to extend a hand.

"No!" yelled Morpheus and Loki quickly pulled his hand away.

"What?"

"That could prove to be fatal, Loki." Morpheus drew up next to him. Trinity came around to the side opposite. She looked closely at the "hole."

It was dark inside unlike any darkness she had ever seen. The blackness of it was so complete as to be a solid thing. She rested her head against the part of the wall that was still in tact and looked at it from the side. There was no perceptible change in the surface, it seemed to not have any depth nor stick out from the wall it was part of. The edges were not smooth and it was circular in shape but not perfectly round. The edges were jagged and uneven. She peered closer at the point where the wall stopped and the hole began. At this close inspection she could notice what seemed to be tiny "threads" stretched vertically across it. Some were complete at the edges but others faded away as the hole grew in diameter along the expanse of the wall.

The threads pulsated with a strange glow.

Morpheus clicked open his mobile phone and waited for a connection through to Tank on the Nebuchadnezzar. "Operator."

"Tank, we have encountered a strange anomaly here. What does the code show?"

"What is it you’ve found?" asked Tank.

"We are not sure. It should show on the screen near us."

There was a pause then Tank came back on. "All I see are you three in a room. What am I looking for?"

"Is there a wall in front of me?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything strange about the wall?"

Another pause as Tank checked to make sure. Morpheus could here the faint click of keys. Finally, "No, just a wall. What is it?"

"There is a hole in the wall."

"Like a window or a door?"

"No," started Morpheus, "like a hole in the fabric of the matrix."

Silence.

"Tank, keep a good lock on our position and a check on the hard-line."

"You got it."

Morpheus closed the phone, ending the connection. He looked at the hole.

Loki backed from it slightly. "How is this possible, Morpheus? How can we see this?"

Morpheus didn’t answer. Instead he picked up a broom from the dirty floor and poked at the wall with it. It clicked against the cement blocks that made up the normal part. He moved it over the hole and gently extended it to make contact.

"I wouldn’t do that, mister," came a voice from behind them. "You’re likely to get a nasty surprise."

All three of them froze in position as they heard the distinct click of rounds being chambered into guns.

"Try it now," called Jabber over the headset mic. He listened for a reply. The one he got consisted mostly of swear words. "I take it that it is still not working." He began to check the circuits in the power distribution panel. He knew they were right yet he checked again. "They’re hooked up right. I have power here. Check for power..." More swearing and he couldn’t determine if it was at him or the equipment.

Allegria approached him and he dreaded her visit. It had been two hours.

"Status?"

"Good news or bad news?"

"I’ve had my fill of bad news, Jabber. I’ll take the good."

"I have 75% of the weapons and defenses back on line and engines are fully operational." He hoped she would leave it at that, as the bad news was really bad. But he knew better.

"And the bad?"

"The sensor and navigational systems are down."

"What?! I didn’t even know they were affected!"

Jabber tried a smile but failed miserably. "Uh...They got fused in a power surge when the main blew. I’ve got Relay up there trying to see what happened."

Allegria shook her head. "Give me that," and she took the headset from Jabber and held an earpiece to her ear. There was still swearing coming over the set. "Relay!"

Quiet. "Captain?" was his sheepish reply.

"What have you found out? And remember, I have had a fairly shitty day so far."

"The navigational system is not responding. The sensor array is a smoking, charred mass. I can’t do anything with it but yank it free and fling it into the goddam sewer. The navigational equipment is just dead. I can’t get it to come on line but I think Jabber has it cross-wired."

She pulled the headset away and looked at Jabber. "He said you have the navigational system cross-wired."

"Bastard!"

Allegria spoke into the mic again, "Jabber believes he has it wired correctly. Do you want to come check and have Jabber go down there?"

Relay swore and said, "I will come check it but Jabber can’t get his fat ass down here! He’d get stuck before he even hit the crawl space!"

"Then I suggest you both cut out the finger pointing and get the system on line. Now."

"Aye aye, captain," replied both Jabber and Relay almost simultaneously.

Allegria tossed the headset to Jabber along with a stern look. "Ok, buddy," he said into the mic, "You heard her, let’s get this thing working." He forced a smile at her as she walked away.

Thoughts buzzed around Allegria’s head like angry bees. Not only were they unable to communicate with anyone they would have to fly the sewers blind. And on the off chance they did find there way back toward Zion the ship could not submerge due to the hull breaches.

Their only chance was to try and locate another ship as they randomly patrolled the tunnels.

A very tiny needle in a very large haystack.

The Church of Neo.

What had she gotten herself into now?

Digital_Grace looked around the large room. She couldn’t tell what it had originally been as its true function was now obscured by the designs of this "church."

It was rather dark. Lights were not laid out in any specific pattern. Scaffolding was raised on each side of the room. Tarps, intentional or not, hung in long drapes from the scaffolds that gave them a regal appearance. People were standing atop some of them and she wasn’t sure but that their purpose wasn’t for protection. Were they carrying guns? The light was to dim and obscured that high up. Exposed pipes and conduits crisscrossed the ceiling. From these hung some of the lights on long, bare cords.

In front of her were rows of chairs that all faced towards the opposite end of the room. There resided a podium. Lettered on the front were the initials like she had noticed them on the sign outside: CoN. Behind it was a large picture. The overall perception of the room was of an old, gothic church.

Slowly Digital_Grace walked forward. She was compelled to inspect the picture further. A few people were sitting in the chairs...waiting for something. The podium was elevated on a makeshift stage. She stepped up to it and gazed at the picture hanging behind.

It was a man. He was dressed all in black with a long black coat. He wore dark glasses that obscured his eyes. His arms were stretched out from his body in roughly the position of a crusifiction. In one hand he held a gun. The other hand contained something small and red. Digital_Grace could not make out what it was suppose to be. Behind, as if it were the cross member of a cross, was a huge telephone receiver. It’s cord winding around his arms, holding them to it. The painting, she could tell now that it had been painted, was quite surreal. There was an important symbolism there that escaped her.

But she kept looking at his face. She had seen it somewhere before. Had she met this man in the street? At a store?

Nerf came up behind her. "That’s Neo."

She turned to face him. "Who is Neo?"

Nerf gave her a gentle smile. "He is the One. The One who will save us."

"From what?"

"From ourselves."

"I don’t know what you mean?"
Again the smile. It was almost patronizing. "You will. That’s why I brought you here. You have been shown a sign."

"What are you talking about? What sign?"

"The sign of the Matrix."

Grace was getting nervous about all this. "Nerf, I don’t know what you are talking about. You aren’t making any sense."

"It will all make sense soon."

"How?"

"I want you to meet someone. He will be able to answer all of your questions. It is why I brought you here."

"Nerf?"

"Trust me, DG. Just trust me a little longer." She could see it was important to him and while she was feeling weird here, it still could help explain what has been happening to her.

"Ok. Who am I going to meet? Neo?"

Nerf shook his head. "No, I’m afraid not."

"Why not?" asked Digital_Grace.

"He’s dead."

Instinctively Morpheus, Trinity, and Loki raised their arms. Morpheus knew it wasn’t an agent that had found them. There would have been no warning.

"We aren’t looking for trouble," explained Morpheus. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Trinity tense slightly. He knew she would wait and take his lead. Before anything happened he felt it best to find out who was aiming a gun at them.

"Unfortunately, friend, you’ve found yourself a mess of it."

Could it be the police? That would be very unfortunate indeed seeing as Morpheus was a wanted internationally as a terrorist. Slowly he started to turn. Trinity and Loki followed suit. While he wasn’t surprised to see that there was more than one person behind them, he was shocked to see five. And if they were police, they were deep undercover. These men looked more like refugees from a biker gang. Several guns of various calibers were aimed at Morpheus and his friends. He trusted Trinity to wait but he wasn’t sure of Loki. Whether he could panic and begin a firefight, Morpheus was not sure. But he was sure he didn’t want to find out. He kept his hands held high.

"Who are you?" He asked the group.

"There is time for introductions later," mentioned the one who had so far spoken for the gang. "More important is what are you doing here?"

"It is kind of a long story," started Morpheus.

"Well, I’m not wanting to stay here all night so why don’t you just give me the short version."

"Let me just say we are lost."

The man smirked. "I’ll say! Lost and about to stir up some major shit by sticking something into that hole."

"We didn’t know what it was. We were...investigating."

"You look familiar, man. Where have I seen you before?"

This where it could go sour, thought Morpheus. Once they placed him, police or not, there would be a fight. There had been way too much news spin by the AI on him and others. They had been painted as extremely evil so that no one in their right mind would ever offer them assistance or listen to what they had to say.

Morpheus shrugged and began to lower his arms. It was time for action. Trinity and Loki started as well. He forced himself to relax and to let his reflexes and senses come to the fore. His eyes slowly surveyed the area, his combatants. He saw in his mind his future actions. He was ready. At his first perceptible move Trinity would release like a coiled spring. He knew from what he had heard that Loki was an expert marksman. He was fairly sure he would lay down a cover fire to take out any attacker that was quick enough to react with his weapon.

The man scowled slightly. "You’re one of them, aren’t you?"

Morpheus noticed the man tensing his handhold upon his gun. Relax. There are no rules. He shifted his weight for the spring. There is no spoon.

The man raised his gun up. "Admit it. You’re here to worship that damn hole!"

"What?!" Morpheus felt his concentration slip.

"You’re part of that friggin’ Church of Neo!"

Morpheus looked at Trinity. They exchanged puzzled looks. The Church of Neo? What madness was this?

There was a room to one side of the large painting. Nerf led Digital_Grace to the door and knocked. A voice on the other side beckoned they enter. Once inside she found this room a little brighter and more finished. There was a desk, some tall lockers, cabinets, and another door across from them. An older man was sitting behind the desk typing at a computer terminal. Without looking he motioned them to take seats in the chairs opposite him.

With increasing apprehension, Digital_Grace sat down and nervously looked at Nerf. He patted her hand and smiled. He certainly appeared calm about everything and Grace had always known him as cautious. Presently the man behind the desk turned to smile at them.

"DG, this is Deacon. He looks takes care of things in between visits from the Prelate." Deacon nodded and shook Grace’s hand.

"Glad to meet you, Deegee. Interesting name. Is it a nickname?"

"It is the initials for my nic which is Digital_Grace. There is an underscore between the two words," explained Grace.

"That is an interesting name." Deacon looked at Nerf. "How much have you explained to her?"

Nerf shook his head. "Nothing really. I figured you could explain it better than me."

Deacon looked back at Digital_Grace. "Nerf brought you here because he believes you had saw a Sign of the Matrix."

"What is the Matrix? I heard it was the name of a bunch of international terrorists. Is that wrong?"

Deacon continued to smile. "Yes...and no. While there is a group called the Matrix that practice terrorism, they are not actually part of what we know as the Matrix. They believe as we do but are more zealous in their pursuit. They use fear and hate as tools to spread the word, where as we use peace and our own conviction to convert others to the truth of the Matrix."

"So they are part of your...church?" asked Digital_Grace.

Deacon shook his head. "No, no. They have been shunned for their actions. They do more to pollute the message than they managed to spread any truth. We do our best not to associate with them." His face became calm. "We do pray that, one day, they will return to us."

"So what IS the Matrix then?"

"The Matrix is a force that binds us, imprisons us. It keeps us from realizing who we really are. Our goal is to escape it. Become free of those trappings and live as we were intended. We are all born into it and most of us die in it never comprehending the truth...that we are prisoners to a reality that was created for us by the Matrix."

"I am not sure I understand."

"It is difficult to comprehend. In fact the prophet Morpheus said that one cannot be told what the Matrix is; one must be shown."

"How am I shown?" questioned Grace.

"Through the Church of Neo. We have a ritual for candidates to become ‘unplugged’ from the Matrix, to free themselves."

"What is involved? Is it like baptism?"

Deacon’s eyes widened and his face brightened. "Yes! Very much so!"

Digital_Grace looked at Nerf. "What has all this to do with what has happened to me?"

Before Nerf could respond Deacon spoke. "You have had the blessing of seeing a sign of the Matrix! Few are given the chance to witness such blessed events. And we believe you were spoken to by one of the Anointed."

"The what?"

"The Anointed. They are followers of the Church of Neo that have been ordained as chosen servants to the Church and are granted special powers."

"What kind of powers?"

"Usually powers of speed and strength. There are a few others that are more rare but most have those two powers."

Digital_Grace was skeptical. Did this really have something to do with what she was experiencing? It all sounded like just another cult. But then again...she did actually see some things she could not explain that day. "And what of those federal agents that seemed to change..."

"Demons of the Matrix! They can posses others to fight against us."

"Are you serious?"

"How else can you explain what you saw?" Deacon was becoming more intense. His gentle visage had hardened. "There are things out there, Digital_Grace, that you can not begin to comprehend. A battle of good and evil that rages just under the skin of our perception. It wrestles under that thin veil and sometimes breaks through to reveal things we can not fathom. Things we dare not dream!" The mention of the word "dream" caused a quick flashback for Grace. She saw the nightmare of cables, felt them pierce her skin. "But one day soon the battle will erupt into our world of light and roar through the facade of our lives! We have to be ready! Neo brought us this revelation and it cost him his life!"

Digital_Grace was trembling slightly. The images of her dream mixed with the apocalyptic talk of Deacon was beginning to scare her even worse. What did it all mean? She looked at Nerf. He looked at her and could see the fear surfacing on her features. His face changed from happiness to concern. Deacon continued to speak.

"Neo was the Chosen One. The one destined to bring the message of the Matrix to us. He gave us this message to spread to all mankind. Neo was spreading that gospel when he became embroiled in a great battle with the demons of the Matrix and in the end he was killed. But he was the Chosen One and he rose from the dead. He rose to show us that the Matrix had no power over us; that we could determine our own fates. Finally he ascended into the world we all hope to go to one day...The Real, the world that lies beyond."

"Grace? Are you all right?" asked Nerf. She continued to look at him, the color draining from her face. Deacon’s voice became a distant buzz. Everything swirled about her and she could feel a pain in her chest. A pain that was growing, spreading through her limbs. It continued to get worse and her breath came in difficult gulps. She began to shake violently as the pain intensified. Her whole body felt a burning cold from within. And then came the sensation that something was stirring within her. Small at first, but it grew along with the pain. With a sudden inner tug she heard the sickening rip of organ, skin, and clothing as cables of wire launched from within her. She saw them spreading in the room impaling Nerf and Deacon innumerable times. Their bodies twitching the last of their lives away shredded by the metallic sinews. She screamed and her nightmare world went black.

"...The Real, the world that lies beyond," explained Deacon.

"Grace? Are you all right?" asked Nerf noticing her sudden pallor. She fell against him. Catching her Nerf looked up at Deacon. "She...she fainted."

Morpheus looked at the people in front of him. There was enough confusion and bewilderment on his face to give their leader some pause. "Are you jerkin’ me around? You don’t know what I’m talking about?"

Morpheus nodded slightly. "You are correct. I know nothing of this Church of Neo."

The leader eyed him suspiciously. "Then why are you here?"

"We got lost along our way and stumbled into this repair shop."

A smirk creased the leader’s face. "Right, Houdini. You can’t get in from the front and this door was locked from the outside."

Morpheus had two choices, fight or bluff. He decided to take the gamble and bluff. The people in front of him were armed and clearly not police. They were ready to kill Morpheus and the others so they must have been of some outlaw element. To this direction he needed to play his hand. "We were being chased by the police. We managed to pick the lock and hide in here. After some time, when we realized the police had surely passed, we found ourselves locked in." The leader remained unchanged in his stance and attitude but he said nothing. "So if you want to try and call the police, go ahead." Morpheus looked him straight in the eye. "But we won’t go easy."

A tense silence ensued. Then finally the leader spoke. "Well...if you are on the run then," he smiled, "You can’t be all bad." He lowered his weapon and his gang did likewise. Morpheus managed a slow exhale. "So why are you three in trouble?"

"Let’s just say we have been causing some problems in the established nature of things." He smiled.

"My kind of people!" He walked over to Morpheus and offered his hand. "My name is Copper. We are the Matrix. Maybe you have heard of us."

Morpheus had no idea what to say.

"DG?" It was Nerf. He was holding a cold cloth to her forehead.

"What happened?"

"You fainted." He smiled down at her. She was lying on a couch in Deacon’s office. She looked around but did not see him anywhere. The faint sound of a loud voice was coming through the door to the church.

"Where’s Deacon?"

"He went out to preach to the people you saw waiting in the church when we came in. He’ll be back later. Just relax for now."

"Nerf, I want to leave. I don’t feel good." Digital_Grace felt quite disoriented and clammy from fainting. She wanted to go home. The walls were closing in on her here.

"But DG..."

"I told you I would only come here if I could leave at any time. I want to leave!" Her tone was emphatic.

"Are you sure you are up to it?"

"Yes. I’ll feel much better when I get out in the air."

Nerf looked sad. "Alright. We can go out through here." He motioned toward the other door of the office. Slowly Grace stood and Nerf helped steady her. He opened the door that led to a narrow stairway. At the top of the stairs a door led to a hallway that appeared to be part of an old apartment complex. Moments later they were in the street. It was getting dark.

"How long was I out?" asked Digital_Grace.

"A few hours. What happened, anyway?"

"I’ll tell you later." Grace let the brisk air fill her lungs, let the bite of the air sting her face. Her head quickly cleared. "I am starving, Nerf. Lets get something to eat."

"Fair enough. I’m getting hungry myself."

The conversation was sparse as they had waited for their food. After half of her sandwich was gone Digital_Grace finally began to ask about what she had learned at the Church of Neo. "Do you really believe all that stuff Deacon was talking about, Nerf?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he replied between fries.

"What about this Neo? Is that the same Neo I’ve heard about? The one that did all those horrible things?" Grace had remembered all the things she had read and seen on TV a few months ago concerning a man that went by the name Neo. Horrible things that made him the most wanted man in the country.

"He is and yet those were all lies made to discredit his message."

"But if his message is simple peace and love stuff then why would anyone care? And who has the power to spin all those lies?"

"The Matrix. The very thing Neo was preaching against!"

Grace was still confused. "I still don’t understand all this. Nerf, did you go through this ritual, this ‘unplugging’ that Deacon spoke of?"

Nerf’s lips curled in a smile of satisfaction and pride. "Yes! It really opened my eyes."

"What is it, exactly?"

"I can’t explain it really. But it is done by the Prelate."

"Who is that?"

"The Prelate is the one who set up the Church of Neo. He is incredible! He was an apostle of Neo’s and was there to hear all that Neo had to say. He saw the miracles Neo performed and he was there to witness Neo’s death, resurrection, and ascension."

"And it is he who has set all this up?"

"He is the founder, yes."

Grace thought about all this as she finished her sandwich and fries. She looked at Nerf. "I’d like to talk to him."

"Great! That is awesome, Grace!" Nerf was ready to burst with excitement. "I really think you have something to do with the church, DG. Something important. He’ll be at the Church the day after tomorrow."

"I’ll be there, Nerf," she said. As she dug out some cash for the bill she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was very right. She had an important part to play in the Church of Neo.

PART 2 -->
 
 
 
 

FAN FICTION