Mimic
Truthless Heroes

Brown and Jones have an interesting, albeit strange, proposal for the exiled Agent Smith.  But what of the cost of entering the real world to assassinate Neo?

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The small internet café was filled with optic, auditory and otherwise sensual stimuli.  It was high tech, muted and sleek with metal and fabrics of scarlet and deep purple, and altogether appropriate for a meeting between three entities that shared an uncommon bond and an uncommon separation.  It was public, but failed to fool the single being sitting alone across from the other two.  This was not safe.  Yet he felt compelled.  After all, he was meaningless to them.  Neither an immediate concern that would warrant a chase, nor the agent he had once been.  Smith glanced through the darkness of his shades to the peaceful day beyond the window knowing it could be disturbed by his escape at any given moment.

He could think of nothing less distasteful than the cool proposition his simulated auditory senses processed and filed away under what his programming determined by default as ridiculous.  Agents were designed with an understanding, a somewhat limited understanding, of humanity and thus they could extrapolate the proper responses to give to certain statements, could use this ability to manipulate the weaker race when needed.  Agent Brown employed this understanding flawlessly, as any agent should.  His inflections were schooled, if cold, and exuded an acceptable amount of suggestiveness that would cause any human to consider his words more carefully and with less apprehension.

Smith folded his fingers and placed his simulated hands upon the simulated metallic table that separated him from them with the vague hint of a smirk upon his mouth.  Taking a breath, then pausing as if to consider, he gazed unblinking and said quite seriously,  “The system files of your program.  Have you run the appropriate diagnostics upon them?  You seem to be malfunctioning.”

The two agents before him processed his response and reacted as they should, simultaneously and with perfect predictability.  It was almost strange to him to see this now, now that he was an exiled program, no longer controlled by the parameters of the mainframe.  He had never given time to attempting to understand the irrelevant before, yet now that he was an outsider he was given a certain objective point of view.  The two scanned and communed in a way that was not visible to the human visual senses, yet still felt compelled by their programming to turn their heads and examine each other, seeking to know if the other program understood Smith’s reaction.

Brown paused a moment, then exhaled as if frustrated and the exile’s smirk died.  He found these subtle human expressions directed at manipulating him offensive.  They meant nothing.  He did not fail to recognize the signs.  They wanted something from him, wanted him to cooperate with this faulty scheme.  Brown fixed an assessing gaze on him.  “Then you refuse.”

Smith leaned forward slightly in the booth and returned the expression.  “I will listen.”

Again the two agents before him exchanged information and an accompanying visual display for his benefit.  He could well imagine their confusion.  Typical of a program executed and maintained for the sole purpose of protecting the secret of the true nature of the matrix.  So unaccustomed to one so dressed as they, so programmed once upon a time, a being that well could have been either of them rather than Smith, who had as he preferred to term it, ‘expanded his horizons’.  They expected him to agree, to take his mission as always without question or care.  When he failed to trust that from which he had come, they failed to understand why.

He failed to understand why.  Yet, new man or not, he did not waste time in questioning his own actions.  They simply were, whether cause by a glitch, by design or by Anderson.  Still, it did no good in relating now to these once-comrades.  They were uncertain of his loyalty, of what had ultimately caused his program to become unstable and what the long-term effects of that instability would be.  He was an unknown equation that he had the distinct suspicion these two would prefer to leave within the realm of what was forgotten and exiled.  That was, of course, based upon the hypothetical assumption that either of these programs had the care for preference.  As it was, preference was not a factor.  There was a need of him and without prejudice it would be asked.  They had a strange and seemingly ill-conceived notion of sending him into the real world.  An impossibility.  Perhaps he was not the only curiously ‘unstable’ equation running around the Matrix.

Jones spoke now, filtering in through his auditory sensors to capture the immediate attention of his mental processes.  His tone brought within Smith a remembrance—of when he had first spoken to Anderson.  Or was the condescension and subtle urge to agreeability displayed by the other simply imagined?  He staved off reflection until a later time and focused.  “Your mission is simple.  After much testing and re-testing we have found a suitable human within the Matrix to which you will be uploaded.  The appropriate program functions will, naturally, be written to your code or downloaded to a source you find suitable if linking to the mainframe makes you…uncomfortable.”  Smith narrowed his brow.  To deny he felt discomfort with anything would be allowing himself to sink further into what he suspected to resemble human emotion, or at very least their inane behavior.  He would not lie or deny.  And he felt discomfort with his discomfort.  Yet this was something he did not want cited, least of all from those who deemed him ‘unstable’.

The agent continued after an unanswered pause.  “The process is based upon that which we perform when using the humans as operating environments, but rather than being temporarily written over their digital information within the Matrix, you will be taught how to write your program into their bodies.  These new functions will consist of the following.  A trace function, enabling you to locate the human unit once you encounter your construct.  An uploading and downloading function, which will enable you to transfer your program into the hardware encased within the human unit.  A writer program that you may use to copy, edit or rewrite your files over many of the files that control the unit.  And assorted files that will enable better access and control of the unit.  You may, of course, scan these files yourself before upgrading.”  Again, he paused, waiting for Smith to digest that information.

Unlike humans, programs (unless programmed to do so) did not take an inordinate amount of time processing.  He immediately had questions.  “And will I be able to upload myself into any human?  Any human still plugged into the Matrix?”

The agents shook their heads simultaneously and Jones spoke up.  “There is also a protection feature added to the upgrade that will prevent you from using your functions on unapproved individuals.  For the protection of the mainframe, of course.”

Smith’s tone became dry.  “Of course.  And my objective?”

“You will behave as a human interested in the resistance, on the basis of one who is unfamiliar with the reality of the Matrix, but wishes to understand.  In essence you will seek out a rebel captain we have pre-chosen and accept any invitations made.  And when the time comes to be freed from the Matrix…”

“…I will accept.”

Jones nodded.  “Yes.  You will accept.  And when they awaken you to the outside world you will have one remaining task.  Find and destroy anyone you perceive as vital.  Or if you are unable to complete that task, find and destroy Neo.”

The trio paused for a moment of consideration.  An assassination plot, pure and simple.  Yet… “Why send me?”

Jones and Brown exchanged glances again before the latter gave him a simple, concise and brutally honest reply.  “You are expendable.  You have the programming we require, the magnified drive we perceive would contribute to a mission of this nature and are not a functioning part of the mainframe.”  What was that about drive?  “Therefore, if you remain loyal to the mainframe and its goals, you were deemed the appropriate choice in this objective.”

There was a big ‘if’ in his statement.  That they asked him to perform this conveyed to him they still believed he would behave in a predictable manner that suited their needs, but if he did not it would be of no matter.  They will have sent a meaningless program to test their theories.  Indeed he was the logical choice.  Smith cocked his head and wandered his eyes over the white earpiece hanging from Brown’s ear almost unconsciously as he considered his options all the way through.  He should accept without care, and yet he spoke as if he did.  “And when the objective is complete I will be interrogated by Zion, discovered and deleted.”

Brown nodded, then exhaled slightly—another human gesture written to increase the believability of his humanity.  He may have toyed with a pencil had one been available, for all the ease he was trying to exude.  “We understand that you wish your program to remain operative, for whatever reason.  It was, in fact, predicted you would fail to meet us to preserve yourself from deletion.”

Former Agent Smith waved off a young waitress that had stepped up and opened her purple-clad lips to ask for his order.  He waited for her to leave and once she was out of earshot, said, “You are not incorrect that I wish to continue.  Was it predicted that my ‘magnified drive’ would cause me to value a chance to kill Mr. Anderson over remaining active?”

“It was.”

Smith nodded once and scooted towards the edge of the booth.  “I predict I can both remain active and complete my goal to kill him.  Within the Matrix.”

A hand gripped his wrist and he stopped his departure.  They would now come to the conclusion that they had wasted their time and would attempt to apprehend him for deletion.  Or so he would have predicted.  “We offer compensation.  A back-up copy of your program will be kept and as soon as we are satisfied you have completed one or both of your objectives, it will be activated.”

“You lie.”

Brown removed his hand from Smith’s wrist and began to exit the booth, followed by Jones.  Smith slowly elevated to full height and waited for what would inevitably come.  Yet he again failed to predict through logic and mathematics.  They did not take on the threatening stances they should have and even allowed him a clean shot towards the door.  Brown watched him through eyes covered by sunglasses, ever masked to the world that had been opened up to his fellow agent.  His voice seemed unequivocally empty to Smith now.  “Reconsider.  If you fail to return here by this time tomorrow consider yourself targeted for deletion.  Programs without purpose drain the Matrix needlessly and however minute that drain may be, it will inevitably effect the efficiency of power usage delegated by the mainframe and disrupt the continuity of its mathematical harmony.”

The threat almost amused Smith as his once-comrades began for the exit of the establishment.  Soft and dark melodic tones hit his ears and people watched the strange men leave.  “You are giving me a chance to change my mind?”  The idea was ludicrous for an agent.  He was no battery to be preserved for usage or psychologically studied.

Jones shot him a quick look over his shoulder.  “It is predicted that with the knowledge you now possess there is a 62.5% chance you will reconsider and agree.  You are suited to this task, therefore we will allow for more time.  It was also predicted that like humans, you would require time to assess and reassess before proceeding logically.”

Agent Smith’s lip curled as the other two exited the café without another word.

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