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The Matrix: Rebellion
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

The Matrix: Rebellion

The Matrix is everything. It is all around us, even in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, when you go to church, when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
~ Morpheus, The Matrix

CHAPTER 1: SEEING THE IMPOSSIBLE

“Are you coming or not, Wake?”

Three boys stood outside the gates of a large junior high. It was a cold night and was destined to snow sometime soon. Thick, dark clouds covered a beautiful full moon, and it was dark. The three boys were dressed in dark clothing so they would not be seen. They all wore sweaters with the hoods up, hiding their faces.

One boy had a bulky backpack on, full to bursting with spray paint cans, silly string bottles, and toilet paper. He was medium in height and had a good build, but nothing special. He had spiked brown hair that ended in bleached tips. His face was set with grim determination. His name was Richard Thornton, but his friends called him Rick. He would be turning 15 a week after school ended, which was two days from now. As a good-bye present to his worst teacher, Mrs. McGreer, the math teacher, he and his friends Gregory (Greg) and Thomas (Tom) had decided to vandalize her classroom. Just in case anybody was around to hear them, they were going by codenames. Greg was Voltage. Tom was Pistol. Rick was Wake.

“Well?” The boy who had spoken earlier spoke again, turning away from the fence. This was Tom, the group’s vigilant leader. He was tall and lanky, with big ears and a narrow face. His hair was buzzed short, but hidden by the hood. Greg was his twin brother, and looked identical to Tom. Their faces appeared gaunt in the dim light of the moon, and their cold blue eyes focused on Rick.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Rick said, and he hopped the fence. Tom and Greg followed him quickly, clambering up the fence noisily and dropping down on the other side. They glanced around to make sure nobody had heard them or seen them, and then slinked away onto the campus in the dead of night. They ran across the basketball courts and pressed their backs to the walls of the large gym. In the shadows they ran to classroom number 18. During the day Tom had jammed one of the windows open while Mrs. McGreer was out of the room, so they now crawled through the window and onto the low bookshelf she had on the side of the room, which was loaded with heavy textbooks.

“Well, let’s get started,” Rick said, dropping his backpack onto the nearest desk. He brought out two spray cans and ran up the chalk board, spraying “MCGREER IS SCHOOL’S SATAN” on it in red and green paint. Tom began running the toilet paper rolls around, wrapping up the desks. Greg took out the silly string and began shooting the pink and blue string everywhere. When the spray paint in the canisters in Rick’s hands ran out, he plopped down at the teacher’s desk. He switched on the iMac, aiming to erase everything on the computer. Instead of being greeted by the blue thing of the computer wallpaper, the screen went black. His face scrunched up with confusion. Then something was scrawled across the blackness. “Hello Wake.”

What the hell? Rick thought. He tried to type back and succeeded. It reminded him of using AOL Instant Messenger at home. “Hi, who’s this?”

A reply came quickly, and it sounded urgent. “I cannot tell you now. You must get out of there.”

With that, the computer shut itself down. Rick sat there, staring at the blank screen. Had the computer just talked to him? How did it do that? He did not know what to make of it. He looked over at Tom and Greg, who were busy unscrewing a desk to make it loose, hoping that it would collapse on the kid who sat there tomorrow. They stopped when they noticed their friend sitting and staring. They were about to ask him what was wrong and if he had dismantled the computer yet, but they were stopped when the phone started ringing. Common sense told them not to answer it. Then the door knob to the front door started turning, and common sense told them to dive under the teacher’s desk.

The door knob stopped turning, for it was locked. Then the sound of a sub-machine gun firing rang in their ears, and the door knob was blown off. The door opened easily, and in walked a man wearing all black and holding an Uzi. His black hair was shoulder-length, tangled and frayed. A trench coat swished around him, the glimmer of gun metal obvious under it. His eyes were hidden by a pair of dark, streamlined glasses. His boots clicked on the tile floor. Sweat dripped down his face, his hair matted, as if he had been running for a long time. Running for the desk they were hiding under, he reached for the phone.

“What the...?” Rick heard Greg ask as a computerized noise filled their ears, originating from Tom. Rick turned to look at his friend, to see his body shaking, blurring, and then...disappearing. The dark Volcom jacket, the black pants, his gaunt face, all replaced by a different person. A man with thinning hair, combed straight and perfect backwards. He was wearing a dark greenish-black suit, a curling audio feed wire coming from the collar of his suit jacket to the audio feed in his right ear. A pair of polished leather shoes were very obvious and glinted in the moon light. He, like the other man, sported a pair of dark shades, though they were less streamlined and more square. He looked like an FBI agent, but scarier. Scarier because of what had just happened. Greg and Rick sat in fear next to the man, wondering what had happened to their friend.

“Time to put an end to this, Mr. Morrell,” the man said. In an amazing feat of strength, he lifted up the desk and hurled it through the large window nearby. The telephone stopped ringing and was crushed under the weight of the desk, shattering alongside Mrs. McGreer’s iMac. The other man, apparently Mr. Morrell, turned to run, but another person stepped through the doorway. He looked very similar to the man that had just thrown the desk out the window.

“You have no choice...“ said the man who had just stepped through the door.

“...but to give in...“ said the man who had lifted up the desk. Suddenly Greg’s body began to blur and turned into another man, also very similar to the previous two.

“...Mr. Morrell,“ finished the new man. All three of the men in greenish-black suits stood and talked very organized, very coordinated. Almost monotonous. All three of them pulled pistols from the inside of their suit jackets and aimed for Mr. Morrell.

“No! I will not surrender to the Matrix!” he shouted. With that, all three of the suited men fired. Multiple shots tore through Mr. Morrell, his blood splattering on the desks, on the chalk board, on the floor. As one last action, Mr. Morrell fired his Uzi at the suited man next to Rick. Rick moved out of the way as the man became a blur of movements. First he was there, now there, and now he’s there... Every single shot missed, the bullets shattering through the chalk board. The slate fell to the ground in splintered pieces. Mr. Morrell toppled over onto the desk that Greg and Tom had unscrewed, and it gave way beneath him. He was dead.

This was too much for Rick. He pushed his way past the suited men and made a run for the door. He ran as fast as he could, not stopping until he reached his house. He climbed up onto the roof and jumped through his open bedroom window and landed on the bed. He fell asleep there, and began having nightmares of men in green-black suits chasing him, shooting at him with their pistols. All he could do was fire back with silly string and spray paint, until they reached him...


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 19th, 2004 at 03:53 AM

Old Post Oct 18th, 2003 05:06 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

CHAPTER 2: THEY’RE COMING FOR YOU

Rick woke up at 7 o’clock AM to get ready for school, in his large water bed in his upstairs bedroom in his two story house with a white picket fence on White Rabbit Avenue. Even though he didn’t want to see the blood splattered everywhere or the body of Mr. Morrell sprawled on the floor, his parents would not let him skip school. Not with the end of the school year only a day away. He ran down the stairs wearing navy blue cargo pants and a dark gray Quicksilver shirt, greeted by the smell of French toast and maple syrup. His dad sat at the round dinner table drinking coffee and his mom was at the kitchen counter finishing up with the breakfast. The news was on, and his parents were watching the screen intently.

“Good morning,” he called to his parents, but they did not reply. Their eyes were glued to the screen, and his dad had been holding the coffee mug to his lips for a long time without drinking. Rick sat down next to his father, also watching the television screen. A woman reporter stood outside of a schoolyard. My schoolyard, Rick realized.

“The FBI has caught one of the most wanted criminals in the world last night at Calantha Intermediate. The man was a terrorist who went by the code name Turbine, though his real name is known to be Winston Morrell. He was wanted for murder, resisting arrest, breaking & entering, and defacing of public and private property. It is most well known for his widespread destruction at Mall City last August, having a shootout with local policemen and the FBI. FBI agent Smith is here to tell us about the capture. Smith?”

The camera turned to somebody that Rick did not want to see. His hair was combed straight and perfect. He wore a pair of shades, more square than streamlined. He wore a dark suit, a very dark green-black color. He wore a tie of the same color, with a little metal clip to keep it neat. An audio feed was in his right ear. He looked like an FBI agent, only scarier.

“After receiving a tip from a local...informant, my fellow agents Johnson, Thompson, and Jackson pursued the man from a black woman’s home. He momentarily out ran us and tried to get to the phone in room 18 of Calantha Intermediate. It is our observation that his kind use telephones to call fellow terrorists to come assist in an escape. But we have ways of tracking people down. We apprehended him as he reached for the phone. Thompson destroyed the phone with a shot from his pistol. He refused to come quietly and tried to shoot back, but we shot first...“ Smith stopped and fixed the cuffs of his jacket. “He is no longer a virus of this community.”

“Thank you Agent Smith for your report...” the reporter went on, continuing the news, but they all jumped as phone rang. Rick’s mother reached for the phone as the reporter announced that school at Calantha Intermediate would be canceled until further notice.

“Hello? Oh, hi Mrs. Patrick, how are you? Glad to hear it...” Typical mother to mother conversation, Rick thought, rolling his eyes. “No, I haven’t seen Greg or Tom...” Damn... He sat staring at the screen when there was a knock a the door.

“Get it, son,” Mr. Thornton, Rick’s father, ordered. Rick got up and grabbed the brass door knob, turning it and pulling, opening the red wood door. A man from Fed-Ex was standing at the door holding a small brown box under one arm.

“Package for Mr. Richard Thornton,” the Fed-Ex guy said cheerfully as he handed over the package. “Hey, you look like you might go to Calantha Intermediate. Did you hear about...” Rick didn’t let him finish, taking the box and closing the door in the guy’s face. He didn’t want to hear about the capture of Mr. Morrell, he was there. That Agent Smith guy on the television had lied about how the kill had gone. Sure, they had asked Mr. Morrell to surrender, but how they had finished him was much different. They had appeared out of nowhere, ‘replacing’ his friends and throwing the desk out the window. And Mr. Morrell had said something about a thing called ‘the Matrix.’ What the hell was the Matrix? Rick contemplated this as he walked up to his room. The box he was carrying might have his illegal fireworks that he ordered, so he didn’t want his parents to see. He locked the door behind him.

He flopped down on his bed. He shook the package to see what it might contain before opening it, and then flipped out his knife. He cut through the tape and cardboard and soon he was holding a black cell phone. He flipped it open, examining it thoroughly. Who would send me a cell phone? he wondered. He turned it on and watched as the buttons lit up one by one by a green light. It began to ring, startling him and nearly causing him to fall off the bed. He held it to his ear and pressed a button.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hello Wake,” answered a deep, calm voice. “I suspect you are wondering who I am and why I have sent you this cell phone. To answer your first question, you may call me Odysseus. To answer your second question, I sent you this phone to answer your other questions that you may be having. It is something you have been thinking about since Mr. Morrell said it last night.”

“What is the Matrix?” Rick asked.

“Yes, that is what I will answer. But not right now. Do you know the abandoned apartment building three blocks from your house?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Meet me there, room 101. Now, there is another question you have concerning people like Smith. The suited men that you saw last night...”

“How did you know I saw them last night?” It was very confusing, for nobody but the three suited men, Mr. Morrell, and his two friends had been there.

“I know many things,” Odysseus replied. “And about those suited men, they are called Agents, they are coming for you. Listen...” Downstairs Rick could hear a knock at the door and then the redwood door opening with a creak. His mother greeted whoever it was at the front door. The person at the door replied.

“We are here to talk with Richard Thornton,” replied a gruff voice. It was Smith from the news.

“What is he doing here?” Rick asked hurriedly.

“You forgot your backpack at room 18 last night. The navy blue one with the nametag attached to it,” Odysseus told him. “And they know that you are on the phone with me at this very moment. Jump out your window, they are in the house.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“No, just very wise. Do it now or they will get you in ten seconds. I will guide you onward. Now go!” There was a knock at the door.

“Mr. Thornton, may we have a word with you?” came the voice of Smith at the door. Rick ignored his mental reasoning of why he should not jump out the window and wrenched it open, climbing out onto the roof. He turned back to see a fist go through the door, splintering it. It reached down for the lock and swiftly unlocked it.

“Jump off the roof. I moved your bike out of the garage earlier, get on it and start pedaling fast. Avoid people, and I’ll see you at room 101.” Odysseus cut the connection to Rick’s cell phone. One block down... Rick told himself as he crossed past the intersection of Elm Street and White Rabbit Avenue. He looked back after crossing over 18th Street only to see that two of the suited men were chasing him down the street, mere feet behind him. He turned back to see a fist flying towards his face, and then he knew nothing. Agent Smith had punched him hard and he flew backwards and off his bike.

“Good work Agent Smith,” Agent Thompson said in monotone as he caught the unconscious boy in mid-air.

“Thank you Agent Thompson,” Smith said, fixing his tie as they walked to the black Lexus with tinted windows, Thompson carrying Rick by the throat. Seeing this, a girl in a tight black leather outfit drove away on a motorcycle, her eyes covered by a pair of shades...

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Rick came to in a small, white room. He was sitting in a plastic fold-up chair, strapped to it with a taut cord. The room had one door, painted a sickly green, but the door did not have a window, nor did the room. His senses were returning to him, his vision less blurry. The instinct to rub his eyes was strong, but he could not because his arms were bound tightly behind him. The gag in his mouth did not help the now aching jaw.

“Hello, Mr. Thornton,” Smith called as cheerfully as he could in his monotone voice. He was standing at the other side of the room, accompanied by two suited men, or Agents as Lincoln had told him on the phone, that Rick had not yet seen before, though they shared the same perfect hair and dark green suit and all that fun stuff. “Glad you could join us.”

“Why the hell are you doing this to me?!” Rick wanted to shout, but it was muffled and his jaw hurt terribly. Smith walked over and sat down at the table in front of Rick, still smiling. The smile faded as he began to talk again.

“We’ve been monitoring you, Richard. We know that you have a D in history class, that you watch violent movies when your parents are asleep, and that you help your elderly neighbor walk her dog...“ Smith rambled, looking through a file on the table. “We know you were there in room 18 at the intermediate school to vandalize your teacher’s room. We know you saw us eliminate a public enemy using certain...skills. We know you were receiving phone calls from a man that we have defined as...extremely dangerous. Do you know why he called you?” Agent Smith got in his face, not expecting an answer. “Because he wanted you to become a dangerous criminal like him. He wanted to turn you into a public enemy. Do you know what we do with public enemies? Of course you do. You watched Mr. Morrell die.”


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 18th, 2004 at 12:47 AM

Old Post Oct 18th, 2003 05:19 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

Agent Smith pulled off his glasses and tucked them into his suit pocket, revealing piercing, unnaturally ice-blue eyes, which stared, unblinking, at Rick. “We are giving you a chance to tell us where this...Odysseus, wanted you to meet him.” Rick had a sudden urge to not tell him, to keep the location of his mysterious caller a secret. He shook his head best he could, but it pained him after a few shakes that indicated “No,” so he stopped. He blinked and Agent Smith had his square sunglasses on again. He pulled off his glasses and tucked them into his suit pocket, revealing piercing, unnaturally ice-blue eyes, which stared, unblinking, at Rick. “We are giving you a chance to tell us where this...Odysseus, wanted you to meet him.”

Whoa, deja vu, Rick thought to himself, shaking his head “No,” again. But looking past Agent Smith, he noticed something. The door was gone. So were the cords that had previously been holding him to the chair, as well as the gag that had prevented him from speaking. The room was inaccessible and inescapable, and there were three Agents in the room with him. He was terrified for some unexplainable reason, and he finally decided it was because of what he had seen the Agents do to people when they killed Mr. Morrell and made his friends disappear. He had felt what they did to people in that solid punch that he hadn’t been expecting. Yet, he was feeling defiant. He could not come up with a logical explanation for that other than he didn’t belong here. Like he belonged elsewhere. He tried to speak but his jaw wasn’t working. In fact, his mouth felt like it was stuck and his jaw muscles were extremely tight and aching. He shook his head no and then reached up to feel his mouth but...it wasn’t there! It was gone entirely, with no trace whatsoever. He started screaming, but there was no sound.

“You made the wrong decision, Mr. Thornton,” Agent Smith said grimly, a foul grimace on his face, though Rick could tell he was slightly amused by his panicking. Smith tossed the file off of the shiny table in between them, and slammed Rick down upon it after pulling him up by the throat as if without effort. The other two Agents walked forwards calmly. The first one pulled up his shirt, the second one held his writhing body down to the table. The first one then aided the second one in holding him down. Rick tried to get away from their grasp, but they were incredibly strong. “And though you have made the wrong decision, you are going to help us, whether you like it or not.”

Smith removed a small metal container from his suit pocket. It looked similar to fancy cigarette container, but when he opened it, it contained teardrop-shaped metal equipment. He plucked one out of the container and held it up while a transformation took place. A gelatinous substance formed around it, and then the thing popped out of the mold. It now wiggled around in Smith’s hand, and looked like some sort of mechanical bug. Smith dropped it on Rick’s chest and the boy began to ‘scream’ harder. He continued shaking against the Agents’ grip, but to no avail. The mechanical insect crawled down towards Rick’s belly button and began inserting its ‘legs’ into it. Then it wrenched it open and crawled inside, pulling itself in. The last thing Rick remembered was feeling intense pain as the thing disappeared inside of him...

And then he woke up.

He was sitting in his bed at home, the rain pounding outside. It was all a dream, Rick realized as he propped himself up. There is no such thing as Agents, and my friends haven’t disappeared... The phone started ringing. Who would be calling me at this hour? Rick glanced at his clock, and felt somewhat startled at the time, though he knew not why. 1 am? He picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello Wake. Do you still want to meet? I’ve been waiting for most of the day...”


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 18th, 2004 at 12:52 AM

Old Post Oct 18th, 2003 05:21 PM
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H. S. 6
Approaching the End

Registered: Sep 2003
Location: Ministry of Magic


 

keep going


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Old Post Nov 19th, 2003 02:07 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

Ah good! Somebody read it! I'll put it up in a bit...


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Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 08:15 PM
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H. S. 6
Approaching the End

Registered: Sep 2003
Location: Ministry of Magic


 

i read most of the storys on here.. theyre all pretty cool


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Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 09:11 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

Good, I'm glad. Most people were just going for the extremely short ones, the ones with no quality. roll eyes (sarcastic)

I'll post some as soon as I open it!


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Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 09:32 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

CHAPTER 3: I OFFER YOU FREEDOM

Rick had been standing under the bridge for about an hour when the bronze car pulled up. It was obviously a custom job, for it did not look like car Rick had ever seen before, and there were no markings that told who had made it. Hell, there weren’t even license plates. The back door on the right side of the car, facing Rick, popped open. A girl in a tight-fitting leather outfit and sleek polarized sunglasses beckoned him in. Rick nodded and got in, sliding onto the comfy leather seats. He shut the door and the car started moving. The person sitting in front of him, a older man wearing a tattered gray jacket, goggles, and a torn-up bullet-proof vest, pulled out a Colt revolver and put it to Rick’s head. For a second he thought the man was going to pull the trigger, but the woman that was sitting next to him slapped the man’s hand away.

“Rusty, we don’t need to go through the ‘It’s for our protection,’ crap. He’s just a kid,” the woman said. The older man that was Rusty pocketed the gun, but still remained turned around.

“Hello Wake,” the woman said, gathering his attention. His head was still running from having a gun aimed for his forehead. The woman had straight brown hair that was pulled back into a bun, which seemed to sparkle because of the flecks of blonde hair that appeared in some places. Her eyes were hidden by the glasses, which she quickly pulled off now that it was darker. It revealed to him that she had brown eyes and a piercing gaze. Her skin was tan and smooth. Had Rick been her age, which he guessed was about 20 or 25, he would have definitely asked her out. But, under the current circumstances and the fact that he was too young, he tossed the thought aside. She wore tight fitting leather clothing, accompanied by a rather large belt hanging loosely from her midsection. The belt sported two gun holsters, which had two small pistols within. Rick remembered what Agent Smith had been saying about Mr. Morrell and his friends being terrorists, but this woman didn’t look like a terrorist. She looked very feminine except for the guns and tight leather. “I am Artemis.”

“Pleased to meet you Artemis,” Rick said, extending his hand. Rusty stirred at this motion, but shrugged it off when Artemis shook his outstretched hand and nothing exploded and nobody died. Artemis then motioned to Rusty and the man driving the car.

“This is Rusty, one of the older members of our crew. He’s had some...bad experiences with recruiting new rebels,” Artemis said, making a gesture towards the older man. As Rick had noted before, Rusty was wearing a tattered gray jacket, goggles, and a torn-up bullet-proof vest. His hair was graying, but Rick could tell it had once been blonde. Deep creases were forming on his dirty face, making the many large scars more dramatic, and a graying goatee covered his chin. His goggles were darkened and kind of grimy. Over all, Rusty’s appearance was filthy. The double-barrel shotgun he kept on the dashboard was getting rusty, adding to his filthy appearance. Rusty lifted his goggles for a moment, revealing that he only had one eye. The one that remained was brown but looked kind of glazed over. He was going blind.

“This is why I hate recruiting,” Rusty muttered, pointing to his eye and then the many bullet holes in his ragged jacket and bullet-proof vest. He made no friendly gestures towards Rick.

“The man driving the car is Adelard.” Adelard had no hair on his head, completely clean shaven. He had a slightly Arabic look to him. His shades were rectangular, tinted a shade of brown, and hanging around his neck on a thin wire. He was wearing a black shirt that had the sleeves torn off, revealing his large and sinuous muscles. Laying next to him on the ground was two Arabian-style swords that had curved blades, both of them sheathed in a fine reddish-brown leather. Adelard paid no attention to the boy who had just entered the car and kept driving.

“Er...talkative, isn’t he?” Rick joked nervously.

“He’s a mute. Lost his ability to speak when an Agent punched his vocal cords really hard during a fool-hardy fight...” Rusty explained.

“Oh...well, uh, sorry Adelard,” Rick apologized. He felt very awkward in a car with a beautiful woman, a literally rusty old veteran, and a mute that he had just unwittingly made fun of. Rick knew what it was like to be punched by an Agent, but actually fighting one sounded insane. Adelard simply nodded, Rick taking that he was forgiven.

“Are there more of you?” Rick asked, “And do you all have names like this?”

“We call ‘em hacker names,” Rusty answered him before Artemis could. “For instance, Rusty is what they have been calling me since I woke up, but when I was still in the Matrix, I was Howard Burton, a farmer in Texas. Artemis was Ginger Vera, a damn good model. I’m supposing that your hacker name will be Wake, as that is what Odysseus has been referring to you as.”

“Excuse me...woke up? Still in the Matrix? What the hell is the Matrix?” Rick asked, confused. “Odysseus still hasn’t told me.”

“He will, I assure you,” Artemis replied, rolling her eyes at Rusty, who turned around in his seat and muttered. “All will be answered in time.” Rusty turned around again.

“You didn’t remember to check him, Artemis. You rarely do, and you remember what happened that one time. Lost quite a few friends to those Agents, didn’t you?”

Artemis rolled her eyes at him again and grabbed a machine that had been lying on the ground at her feet. It was a strange machine and looked as if it was used to suck on something, or electrocute it.

“Lift up your shirt,” Artemis commanded.

“Why?”

“I have to see if you’ve been bugged...which you probably have seeing that you didn’t escape from the Agents the first time...” Rick obeyed, lifting up his dark brown shirt slowly. Artemis placed the machine on his stomach as Adelard plugged it in and flipped a few switches. A screen on the machine turned on, but Rick could not see it.

“Yep, your bugged...try to relax...” Artemis told him, moving the machine slightly.

“It’s on the move,” Rusty said, and Rick noticed that there was an odd sensation down by his belly button. A lump was moving up towards his chest. “Your gonna lose it like that one time...” Rusty continued, but Adelard forced Rusty down into his seat with a firm hand. Rusty turned around again anyway.

“Shut up, I’m not gonna lose it...” Artemis muttered, moving the machine more and more.

“Now!” Rusty shouted in her ear. Rick started to panic, but then a weird searing pain came across his stomach and electricity arced around the machine. Then a sucking feeling and more pain. He shouted, but it was soon over. Artemis rolled down the window and threw something from the car.

“What the hell was that!?” Rick inquired, alarmed and confused.

“A tracking device used by the Agents,” Rusty told him. “They use it all the time.”

“Whoa, that thing was real!?” Rick shouted, still alarmed.

“Yep, sure was. The Agents try to make you forget about it, but I make sure that Artemis checks the newcomers every time. Well, looks like we’re there. All that driving was making me tired...” Rusty droned off.

“You’ll recognize this place,“ Artemis told him, and Rick peered out the window to see that they had arrived at a different abandoned apartment building than the one that Odysseus had wanted to meet at the first time. It had once been an expensive hotel, his father had told him, called the Sunset Hotel. But, as business receded and less and less people stayed in the building, it turned into an apartment building, renaming itself Sunset Homes. Business got to the point of non-existence and they closed it. The wrecking crews had yet to call it condemned, but it was still in terrible disrepair. They all got out of the car except for Adelard, who pulled the car into the alleyway next to the building. Together they walked in and reached room 101 in no time.

“See ya, Wake!” Rusty called enthusiastically. “Hope you make the right decision...” Adelard and Rusty then continued up the stairs and out of sight.

“Well, I must leave you here as well,” Artemis told him. “I too hope that you make a good choice...” She followed the other two up the stairs. Rick looked after her until she disappeared from site, and then opened the door to room 101. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“Welcome Wake,” came the deep and calm voice of Odysseus. Rick could not see him, but knew that he was in the room with the wise man who had been calling him. He looked around the bare room, which was extremely dusty and many floor boards had rotted away. The only thing in the room was a decaying thick carpet and two high-back chairs that looked pretty comfortable. Next to them was a small wooden table with a cup of water sitting there. Odysseus will need it after all the explaining he’s going to do, Rick thought with a smile. He wandered on over to the chairs and found where the voice had been coming from. In the chair that had been closest to him was Odysseus, sitting with his arms resting on the armrests, his large hands, hanging over the edge. “I am glad you still wanted to come after all the pain you have experienced. A broken jaw, bugged and debugged...”

“How’d you know?” Rick asked.


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 24th, 2004 at 01:38 AM

Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 09:40 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

“You’ve been asking that of me a lot. I will tell you momentarily. But, I need to introduce myself. As you no doubt have guessed, I am Odysseus.” Odysseus smiled, a warm, glowing smile. The razor-thin smile reminded Rick somewhat of the Cheshire cat from the book Alice in Wonderland. Odysseus was a black man, obviously very tall when standing, and looked very strong. His hair was short, curly and black. His mirrored sunglasses were round and wire-framed, covering his eyes mostly. He wore a long black trench coat, made of leather, and underneath he wore a gray button-up shirt and gray pants. Unlike Artemis, Rusty, and Adelard, he carried no weapons. Rick sensed a want for peace coming from this man, a sense of leadership and power. “But first I must tell you something else you have been questioning me about. The Matrix. Take a seat.” Odysseus made a gesture towards the chair opposite of him, and Rick sat down.

“Now, you want to know what the Matrix is? Then I shall try to describe it using the speech that a good friend of mine usually uses,” Odysseus said, grinning. “How does it go now...ah yes, I remember now.” He cleared his throat and smoothed out the wrinkles in his trench coat. “The Matrix is everything. It is all around us, even in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, when you go to church, when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.” Odysseus looked for Rick’s reaction in his eyes and in his face. Rick just gave him a confused look, unsure of what the Matrix really was.

“What truth?” Rick asked, disoriented by what Odysseus had told him.

“That you are a slave, Wake. Like everyone else you were born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch. A prison for your mind...” Odysseus gave him a grim smile. “Unfortunately, nobody can be told what the Matrix is. They must be shown,” Odysseus replied, not answering his question. He placed a hand in his coat and pulled out a clenched fist, holding something tightly. He transferred something to his other hand and clenched it tightly around whatever it was that he was holding. Then he held out his hands, revealing two small jelly-bean shaped pills, one red, one blue. Rick looked up at Odysseus for a moment and saw the pills reflected in his glasses, then looked back at the pills.

“What are those?” Rick asked.

“These are how we get people out of the Matrix or leave them in. We give them a choice. You take the blue pill, you will consider this conversation and all that has happened a mere dream. You will never have heard of the Matrix or Agents or me and the others. You will remain Richard Anderson Thornton. But, if you take the red pill, I will show you what the Matrix is and why it is. You will do things that go beyond your wildest dreams, go places you’ve never gone before, be what you want to be. You will leave the name Richard behind and become Wake.” Odysseus stared at the boy long and hard. “What do you say to that, Wake? It is entirely your choice.”

Rick sat, and he sat, and he sat. It seemed like hours were going by, the decision being hard for there was so much he did not know. But something at the back of his mind helped him make the choice. He began to reach for the red pill.

“Remember, Wake, all I offer is the truth. Once you make the choice and take the pill, doesn‘t matter which one, there is no turning back,” Odysseus said quickly. He continued looking straight at Rick through the glasses, Rick could sense it rather than see it. Rick thought for a second and then continued his grab for the red pill. He placed it in his mouth and grabbed the cup of water, gulping down the pill. He set the cup down after drinking half of it’s contents. Odysseus smiled.

“Good choice, Wake, good choice.” Odysseus’s grin was unfaltering. “Now, follow me...” Odysseus got out of the dusty chair and made his way to the door. Rick, or Wake, as he would now be calling himself, got up and hurriedly followed. Odysseus and Wake made their way up the stares quickly, till they reached room 303. Odysseus opened the door and let Wake enter first. The room was cramped with electronic equipment, green and blue lights glowing eerily in the dark room, coming from the complex racks of monitors, modules, and drives. Rusty and Artemis were busy with the machinery, but Adelard was sitting back. Odysseus flipped out a cell phone similar to the one he had sent Wake, and began talking to someone on the other line. Then he put the cell phone down, the line still active.

“Rusty, are we on line?” Odysseus asked the older man without looking in his direction.

“Just about...”

“Good. Wake, please have a seat, we don‘t have much time...” Odysseus pointed to a chair near the center of the room, surrounded by all the machinery, next to a cracked mirror. Wake nodded and took a seat, where Adelard began to quickly attach small gray electrode disks to his body.

“You did all this?” Wake asked the muscular man bending over him. Adelard nodded before placing a pair of headphones over the boy’s ears. Wake gave him a look of confusion when he saw that they were wired to an old phone. Adelard gave a silent chuckle as he moved away. Artemis seated herself nearby, by Rusty stayed in his spot.

“The pill you took is part of a trace program. It's designed to disrupt your input/output carrier signal so we can pinpoint your location,” Odysseus explained to Wake. “So we can find you when you get out of the Matrix.”

“Uh...okay...” Wake said, not really understanding. He was too confused by these people. They seemed incredibly smart for terrorists. As the others pounded away on keyboards, he noticed something. Wide-eyed, he stared as the mirror began to heal itself, a web-work of cracks slowly running together as though the mirror was made of liquid metal.

“Did you guys see that?” Wake asked cautiously. Nobody replied. Wake jabbed a finger at the mirror and pulled it out quickly as it disappeared beneath the surface of the peculiar mirror. The mirror liquid followed his fingers in long rubbery strands and remained stuck to them. Odysseus began speaking to him.

“Have you ever had a dream, Wake, that you were so sure was real?”

“This can’t be...” Wake started, watching as the liquid began to spread.

“Be what? Real?” Odysseus asked with a smile as lightning flashed outside the windows. Odysseus continued with what he had been saying. “What if you were unable to wake from that dream, Wake? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?” The rubbery strands of mirror broke and began to spread across his hand, spreading like melted wax, reflecting Wake’s terrified face in his palm. The others in the room began to talk quickly.

“It’s going into replication,” Artemis alerted.

“Rusty?” Odysseus talking.

“Still nothing...” Rusty replied. Odysseus shook his head and picked up the cell phone again.

“Bolt, we’ll be needing a signal soon,” Odysseus said into the phone.

“It’s cold,” Wake added, trying to rub the mirror off of his arm. It spread to both hands, and now raced up his arms. The cold substance seemed to come to life, racing and crawling up towards his face. He stuck his head up, feeling as if he was drowning.

“I’ve got a fibrillation!” Artemis shouted.

“Damn. Rusty?”

“Almost there...”

“He’s going into arrest!” Artemis shouted again as the mercury-like substance began to creep up his face and into his mouth.

“Lock! We’ve got him!” Rusty declared proudly. “I’ve done it again!”

“Bolt, now!” Odysseus hollered into the cell phone.

Suddenly, Wake felt as if he was being pulled away, down into darkness. The coldness of the mirror liquid was gone, and he felt warm and wet. The room spun around him and suddenly disappeared as if he was running away from it, and then...only blackness...


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 18th, 2004 at 01:07 AM

Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 09:40 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

CHAPTER 4: THE REAL WORLD

Wake suddenly felt like he was drowning again. His vision was blurry and it appeared that snakes were writhing around them, though they were cold and made of metal. He pulled his arms through the thick gelatinous substance that surrounded him and whacked away the metal snakes. His head emerged from the goop and he was thrashing around. He felt like there was something stuck in him. His vision focused, and he could see better. He suddenly realized that there was a tube down his throat and he pulled at it, tearing it from his throat and mouth before his gag reflex could activate. Now his vision was returning, and he looked at his arms and felt them. Many wires were sticking out, but Wake was unsure what they were for. But the thought of having the wires in him at all was terrifying enough to make him panic. He noticed a weight at the back of his head and reached up to find a coaxial plugged into the base of his skull. More panicking and thrashing. He spun around, spotting oval capsules made of clear alloy. Electricity occasionally sparked off of them and jumped to the other pillars that were covered in the more of the oval capsules. His vision increased and he could now see what was inside those oval capsules...humans. Human beings, hairless and covered in wires as he was. He tried to scream, but his lungs weren’t working very well.

Something zoomed down from overhead. It seemed like a giant spider, but there was no thread attached to it, and it hummed like a car engine. It glared at the boy sitting in the vat of goop in front of it with red LED eyes, and grabbed him by the throat. Wake gasped for air, grabbing at the metallic pincer it had grabbed him by. The tips of the pincer grabbed the coaxial in the back of his head and began to twist it. Eventually it unplugged and dropped into the goo, along with Wake. The rest of the wires protruding from his arms and spinal chord shot out with a hiss and thwacked his face. Then there was a flush, and he was pulled away, into a wet, dank tube, the pink goo following him. The air rushed past his naked body, the wind brushing his face. He squinted, his eyes agitated by the rushing air.

Then the tube ended. He was hurled through the air and into a pool of water. He was a good swimmer, but...he wasn’t floating. He lashed out at the water, striking it, trying to move through it...he was losing consciousness fast, water rushing into his mouth. The last thing he remembered was a light from above, and a sensation that he was being lifted upwards...

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

He came to on what seemed to be a mattress of sorts, such as the kind a doctor keeps in his office. Everything was cold and blurry. He could see Odysseus above him, but he could not discern any details about him. He knew there was no Cheshire smile and that he had taken off his sunglasses, but that was all.

“What happened?” he asked weakly.

“We have freed your mind, Wake. You are in the Real World, and have left the Matrix,” Odysseus answered.

“Why is my vision blurry? And why am I talking so quiet?” he asked weakly. He wanted to speak louder, but his vocal chords weren’t working correctly. On top of that, his 20/20 vision had given way to blurry eyesight.

“You have never used your eyes or vocal chords before,” Odysseus replied.

“Of course I have, I was talking to you a few minutes ago!” he tried to shout. It didn’t work.

“Actually, that was a few hours ago. And you used them inside the Matrix...not in the Real World.”

“That’s confusing...” Wake said. This was very strange and baffling to him.

“I know, but you will learn in time. It was the same way for me when I left the Matrix. Now get some rest...you‘re going to need it...”

He drifted off to sleep relatively quickly, and his sleep was dreamless...

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A few hours later, he awoke, feeling like his natural self. He could see better, and his vocal chords were working. His strength had returned, and he looked down at his body. His well-built body was better than before, he thought. He went in search of the others and bumped into Rusty.

“Whoa, watch it kid, ya scared me,” Rusty cackled. He was no longer wearing the tattered gray jacket, goggles, and a torn-up bullet-proof vest, but instead, loose fitting, hand-sewn clothing that was the colors of a wheat field in summer, stained with grease and sweat. An eye patch covered his missing eye. He had been repairing a few pipes when Wake had bumped into him.

“Sorry about that...” Wake apologized. He had a question as well. “Hey, I was wondering...how come I’m more muscular than I was a few days ago?”

“Well, when we pop you out of your pod, it is like you have been born a second time. You are like a helpless child, hairless, blind, and scared. Like a newborn, you’re muscle mass is practically zero, Odysseus uses the word ‘atrophied’ to describe it. We rebuild them with chemicals, cause if you’re going to be on the Alchera, you are going to need them. We did that while you were sleeping.”

“Huh...I would have used those chemicals before had I know about them,” Wake chuckled. “And what is the Alchera?”

“Well, for one, those chemicals don’t exist in the Matrix. The Matrix is set for the late twentieth century, not the twenty-third century...and the Alchera is this rust bucket we are flying in right now...”

“Twenty-third century?” Wake said. “What the hell are you talking about? And we‘re on a ship?”

“Kid, the Matrix is an illusion, remember? It’s like having your brain hooked up to a computer. The supposed prime of mankind, was the twentieth century. Yeah...right...” Rusty said, turning back to his work. A pipe broke, sending coolant spurting into Rusty’s face. “Goddamn!” he cursed as the freezing gas hit him. He backed up and swatted it away.

“I’ll take it from here, Rusty,” Odysseus said, emerging from his seat on the other side of the room. Like Rusty, his clothes were no longer stylish, but threadbare and home spun, in shades of dark gray. His eyes were dark green, now that he was no longer wearing his shades and Wake’s vision had returned. Odysseus motioned for Wake to follow him, and they began walking through a corridor. The walls were covered with panels and wires and pipes, snaking their way around them.

“As I’ve told you, the Matrix is an illusion. Not real, but a simulation of the year 1990 and some time after that. We are not sure of the exact date now, but it may be close to the 22nd century or in it.”

“How can you not be sure? Don’t you have calendars or digital watches?” Wake asked.

“No. Most were lost during the war...”

“War?”

“With the machines. I’d better show you what I mean...” Odysseus led him into a room, covered in wires like the rest of them. In the center were a ring of what seemed to be reclining chairs, connected to many wires. There were holes in the headrests of the chairs.

“This is where we jack into the Matrix. This is how we found you, by sitting in these chairs and hooking ourselves up,” Odysseus explained.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do not tell me you did not notice the coaxial plug in the back of your head when you woke up,” said Odysseus.

“No, I noticed it...” Wake said, remembering how heavy it had been.

“Well, feel the back of your head again...” Wake reached up and rubbed the spot where the coaxial had been inserted, his fingers running over a cold metal plug.

“That is how the machines plug people into the Matrix. We use the same idea to get back in to free minds and fight back,” Odysseus said. “Take a seat in the chairs, doesn’t matter which one. And then I will be free to explain more.” A skinny young man with blonde hair walked up and helped him into his chair.

“Who’s this?” Wake asked.

“This is Bolt, our Operator. You’ll learn more about his job later...” Odysseus said. “Now this may feel a little weird...” Wake could feel Bolt guiding a coaxial line into the jack in the back of his head, and then felt it going. There was a click and his ears popped, and he closed his eyes and felt scrunched up. The feeling of being sucked away returned, but then ceased, and he felt as if he was weightless. He opened his eyes and saw that he was standing in a ‘room’ of infinite white, nothingness going in all directions. He turned around several times, seeing absolutely nothing.

“This is the Construct,” Odysseus started. Wake whirled on the spot and saw that Odysseus had joined him in the endless white. “It is our loading program. From here we can load anything from clothes, to weapons, to training simulations, to ideas, and so on. Anything we need.” Odysseus began walking past him, and Wake noticed that two chairs had appeared. They were the exact same as the ones that had been in the abandoned apartment building. Odysseus motioned for him to sit, and he did.

“So what you are trying to tell me, Odysseus, is that I’m in a computer program?” Wake asked, dazed by the idea.


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 19th, 2004 at 04:07 AM

Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 10:09 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

“Is it so hard to grasp that idea? That was what the Matrix was. And your hair has returned to the way you usually style it, and those plugs are gone...” Wake’s hands shot up to his head, running them through his hair and rubbing where the coaxial was. “We call it residual self image. The mental projection of your electronic self. It isn’t that confusing if you figure it out the right way.”

“So...I can look however I want?” Wake asked.

“As far as clothing and hair style goes, of course...” Odysseus grinned. “Would you like to test that?”

“Sure! You all seem to walk around in trench coats...” Odysseus snapped out a cell phone. “And why do you always use cell phones?”

“It is how we communicate with our Operator...you’ll learn more about that later...” Odysseus told him, shortly before Bolt answered. “Bolt, load the trench coats...” Moments later, racks of trench coats came roaring past at high speeds, as if they were trains tearing down the track. They came to a halt just as fast, displaying many choices of long jackets and trench coats for Wake to look at. He picked one off of the rack and tried it on.

“Looks good on you, kid,” Odysseus grinned. “But, I must continue with what I was saying...” The racks and trench coat disappeared, shooting off in the opposite direction of Wake and Odysseus.

“So...this isn’t real?” Wake asked, remembering that Odysseus had told him it was a computer program.

“What is real? How do you define real? If you're talking about what you feel, taste, smell, or see, then real is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.” Odysseus lifted a remote control, Wake suddenly realizing the presence of an old fashioned television. He began clicking channels, past cartoons and soap operas, until he reached a station where it was merely an image of Wake’s home town from the nearby lake. “This is the world as you have been made to see it. As if it is the end of the Twentieth century, one of mankind’s greatest eras. After years of hard work, man gave birth to A. I.”

“A. I.? As in Artificial Intelligence?” Wake asked.

“Correct. But then something happened that turned your wonderful twentieth century city into a forsaken war zone...” Odysseus clicked the remote, changing the channel once again. The gleaming glass skyscrapers were replaced by the blackened skeletons of themselves, the blue sky replaced by a twirling mass of thick and violent clouds, streaked with lightning and heavy rains. The water that had been the nearby lake was gone, giving way to a deep pit, wreckage of ships and other machinery littering the bottom. Suddenly Wake felt the pulling feeling again, and found himself in the lakebed itself. It was scorch and the mud long since caked, splitting and cracked like dry skin. A boat, very similar to the one that his father owned, was full of holes and as cracked as the lakebed. “We aren’t entirely sure what was going on back then, but we think that mankind was gathered in celebration at the birth of their creation. I find it almost funny that mankind was slapping itself on the back in congratulation. Almost funny...” He looked up to the sky of rolling obsidian clouds. “The machines that man created were dependent on solar power, so, when the war between machines and man started, mankind scorched the sky in hopes that it would end the machines’ threat. But they found a new form of fusion that could keep them going...” They were sucked back to the Construct, where the television was still showing the image of the scorched lakebed. Odysseus pushed another button and the screen showed fields upon fields of fetuses, hanging in placenta-like husks. “It is ironic that, while men depended on machines so heavily, they now depend heavily upon us. Without us, they cannot function. The human body generates more bioelectricity than a 120-volt battery and over 25,000 B.T.U.'s of body heat. The machines turned this to their advantage. There are now endless fields that stretch across the Earth, field upon field where human beings are no longer born, but are grown.” On the screen, a thresher-like machine plucked a husk from the stalk, taking the fetus, having deemed it ready to plugged into the Matrix and born within it. “For the longest time, I wouldn't believe it. But then I saw the fields with my own eyes, watched them liquefy the dead so they could be fed intravenously to the living and standing there, facing the efficiency, the pure, horrifying precision, I came to realize the obviousness of the truth.” He turned off the television. “The Matrix is merely a system of control and a source of energy. The machines use it to keep you from suspecting that you are being used as a coppertop battery for them.” Wake stared at the blank screen of the television with an equally blank stare. A long silence started. “What do you think of this, Wake?” Odysseus asked, breaking the silence.

“I...I...” Wake stuttered. “I think this is...just...plain...bizarre...”

“But do you believe it?”

“In a sense...yes...”

“Good...” Odysseus and Wake were pulled away one last time, and wound up in the Alchera, unplugged from the Construct. “I am glad. Now get some sleep, you’ll need it...”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

In the days prior, Wake had been going through some of the drab and boring downloads of computer hacking and standard car driving skills. Bolt had called them routine drills, that everyone had gone through except himself, Bolt being the Zion-born Operator who never entered the Matrix. Wake asked the ship’s Operator what he meant by Zion-born and what the Operator did.

“By Zion-born, I mean that I was never in the Matrix. I never lived in ignorance of what the Machines did to mankind, for I was born in the city of Zion. It is the last city of mankind, where about 25,000 human beings live. And as an Operator, I guide you folks through the Matrix by reading the code. You’ve been asking how we knew the Agents were coming for you, among other things. Well, I read the code.” Bolt gestured to the screens that he used when guiding others through the Matrix. Green code was running down a screen on a few of them.

“How can you read that? It’s nothing but symbols!” Wake said, trying to read some of it.

“I learned when I was young. I don’t see the code any more, but instead I can decipher types of cars, hair colors, where people are standing, what people are wearing, etcetera. Your code is not in there, since you are here, but it pops up when we put you back in.”

Wake was sound asleep in his quarters, a cold, metallic room with a cot that seemed comfortable after all the downloading done in the Construct. The things he had learned in mere minutes when it would have taken years in the Matrix were beyond count. He could now hack computers and hotwire vehicles, and then drive the vehicles with supreme efficiency. But it didn’t end there. He now knew several forms of martial arts. Odysseus had told him that it was a key to their survival that they knew these things, or they wouldn’t survive long in the Matrix. Karate, kung fu, jujitsu, and so on, were all downloaded into his brain. But it did not stop there, for he was now skilled with weapons, whether they be guns or melee weapons. In one of the training simulations, he had taken on a SWAT team with two Berettas and a few grenades, but in the end, he was gunned down. He emerged from the simulation feeling slight pains.

“It is because the mind is experiencing pain, therefore, your body experiences pain,” Bolt explained. “Like if you get shot in the Matrix, your body will react as those it was shot here.”

He had been lulled to sleep by the low hum of the engines, but he was awoken by a metal grinding noise and loud footsteps. He emerged from his quarters and was nearly bowled over by Adelard, who was running fast down the corridor.

“What’s going on?” Wake asked sleepily, but then remembered that Adelard was a mute. Adelard was not deaf though, and motioned for Wake to follow him. They were greeted by Rusty.

“Glad you’re a Wake,” Rusty said. “Get it? A Wake? Awake?” Rusty only received a roll of the eyes from Adelard, who pushed past him. Wake started to follow, but Rusty stopped him. “No really, I am glad you’re awake. We’ve recruited another person from the Matrix.”

“Really? Would I know this person?” Wake asked, eager for it to be someone that he had more in common with than these experienced warriors.

“Go see for yourself. A female, 15, lived in your area.” Wake rushed after Adelard before Rusty could finish. He rushed to the area where they had yanked him from the waters of the machine’s draining system and into the Alchera, where the crew was gathered. Odysseus was helping a girl rise to her feet, wrapped in a robe and towel. Even without hair or the stylish clothes, Wake recognized who it was. It was a girl who he had pined for a long time, who had been a high-achiever both in school and socially, and a good friend of his, Janet. In the Matrix, she had blond hair that went halfway down her back, and blue eyes. She had a good build and a shapely figure, and lots of curves as Wake had noted. But now she was not a sight to behold, but merely a helpless child. She was very unsure of what was going on, as he had been.

“Welcome to the Real World, Janet,” Odysseus said, helping her into the ship’s medical room. Wake said a silent hurrah as she was led away, and he went back to his quarters.


__________________

Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 19th, 2004 at 04:08 AM

Old Post Nov 22nd, 2003 10:09 PM
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Trickster
True KMC Jester

Registered: Dec 2003
Location: United Kingdom


 

w00t! Romance in the matrix! w00t! Dis is mucho betterino den mya storyina rexio!


__________________
"If clowns warred on monkeys, and the monkeys had guns, and were trained to use them, who would win?"

Death only gives another set of choices.

He who dies with the most toys. Still dies.

Old Post Jan 16th, 2004 07:08 PM
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REXXXX
Networking

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Location: San Diego

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Now, I just need to work on the story itself. I haven't done anything since I updated this thread.


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Old Post Jan 17th, 2004 12:16 AM
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Peach
mordrem

Registered: Nov 2003
Location: verdant brink

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Yeah, you do need to write more on this. It's good! And I have no patience big grin


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under the pale tree - my [email protected]

I can hear the call of the dragon...

Old Post Jan 17th, 2004 12:55 AM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

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As I am making name changes and fixing typos, I will probably replace previous posts.


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Old Post Jan 17th, 2004 01:38 AM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

Previous posts replaced, name changes made, title changed!

Barren is now Odysseus.
The Aether is now the Alchera.
Celsius/Bolt operator mix ups fixed, now just Bolt.


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Old Post Jan 19th, 2004 04:21 AM
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REXXXX
Networking

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Location: San Diego

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Wow, I really need to update this! In two days I've hit Chapter 10!


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Old Post Jan 25th, 2004 07:23 AM
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REXXXX
Networking

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CHAPTER 5: PREPARING

It had been a few uncounted months since Wake had been unplugged and had come to believe what Odysseus had told him about the Matrix. That the Matrix was false. That the Matrix was a lie. That the Matrix merely turned him into a battery, or coppertop, as all of the people still plugged into the Matrix were called. And now he was ready for his first journey back into the Matrix. To see this mysterious women called the Oracle. Apparently it was very important to the others, since everyone except Bolt, the operator, was going into the Matrix with him. Janet was also going to see the Oracle.

“The Oracle has been with us since the beginning of the rebellion from the Matrix,” Odysseus told Wake when he was questioned about it.

“She’s pretty much damn all knowing!” Rusty added with his usual rusted chuckle. “Now plug in! We need to get our guns!” Wake nodded, and took one of the chairs. Bolt came around to each one and plugged them into the Matrix with the normal clicking and zipping sounds.

“Your turn, Wake. Ya ready?” Bolt asked as he held the plug up to Wake’s head.

“You bet I am,” he said, and Bolt sent him in. As he had done when Odysseus was telling him what the Matrix was, he opened his eyes to see the Construct, the endless white stretching around. He was still in normal clothes. In fact, it was the gee that he was been wearing in the sparring test with Odysseus a couple of weeks ago. He popped out his cell phone and called Bolt. “Bolt, I’m going to need some different clothes, I think I’d look a bit conspicuous wearing a gee in the Matrix.”

“What you wear does not matter, Wake,” Odysseus interrupted behind him. “Agents do not see you like you see me or I see you. That is why we are strutting around in trench coats and shades. It helps us identify you in crowds of coppertops, while our clothes matter not to Agents.”

“Oh...right...but still, I don’t want to wear this gee...”

“Good point. Bolt, load the a set of clothes for him...” Soon he had picked out a good set of clothes and a black trench coat that went down his leg just above his ankles. Then came the sunglasses. Small racks of shades came rushing by, and stopped on either side of the humans. The veteran warriors of the Alchera were quick to choose pairs, but Janet and Wake took their time.

“Wake, what do you think of these?” Janet had tried on a pair of Hugo Boss glasses, the lenses tinged blue with a silver wire frame. The rest of her outfit consisted of tight navy blue pants, a small, tight shirt, and a smart vest. Her blonde hair was done up in a ponytail, and her face was glowing with happiness, as she had been able to choose clothes that she liked without paying for them. In the Matrix, she had been renowned at school for her shopping sprees. She looks so much better in the Matrix than she does in the Real World, thought Wake. In the Real World, she was dressed in the ripped and grease-stained sweaters that most of the free men and women wore, and she usually looked disheveled.

“I think they look great, Janet,” Wake replied with a smile. She smiled back, and he forced himself to turn away before she noticed his line of vision was wandering from her face. He continued searching through the sunglasses, but was finding it difficult to choose out a pair that suited him. He turned to Odysseus. “Odysseus, what kind of glasses do you wear?”

“AO-Eyewear,” Odysseus replied smartly. “Look over there if you would like some like mine...”

Wake rummaged through the racks of sunglasses until he found the AO-Eyewear sunglasses that he wanted. They looked somewhat similar to Odysseus’s, but the frame was the color of gunmetal, and the glass was tinted dark green. He tried them on.

“Perfect,” Odysseus said, smiling. Wake grinned back, adjusting the shades on his face.

“Anything else you need?” Bolt asked over the phone.

“Yes...” Odysseus said, looking to the others. “Guns...lots of guns...” The racks of clothes raced away and were immediately replaced with racks of guns. The variety was astounding, from a pirate’s flintlock to a Civil War Colt revolver, from an American World War II sniper rifle to a M16 assault rifle. Pistols, rifles, shotguns, automatics, all laying in front of them on tables and hanging on racks. Clips sat in piles sat in buckets and baskets, piled on top of ammo belts.

“Grab what you need, never know what you are going to run into,” Odysseus says, grabbing a pistol and putting it in his trench coat. “Keep in mind that you need to keep them concealed, or keep them in the car. Also keep in mind that there are swords or hand-to-hand combat weapons.” The others started grabbing guns, but Wake started being picky, looking for the guns he thought would do the best in his care.

“Hurry up, Wake, we don’t have all day!” Rusty hollered over to him, grabbing a double-barrel shotgun from the late 19th century and a bandolier covered in shotgun cartridges. He clipped the shotgun to the bandolier and slung it over his back. He reached for two Colt revolvers and slid them into the holsters at his waist, the belt from which they were hanging from also covered in bullets. A handful of tiny cans marked “Hicks Percussion Caps” was shoved into his pockets. He hid what he could under the tattered trench coat and slipped on his goggles.

The others were busy grabbing what they could as well. Artemis seemed to be more into martial arts than firing guns, but she grabbed two Ingrams Mac 11 machine pistols nonetheless, along with a few clips. Adelard grabbed an AK-47, placing the spare magazines in his pockets, and a KG9 for back-up. Janet had already placed a pistol in her vest. Wake looked over the display of artillery and finally picked up two Desert Eagles and several spare clips.

“That’s the gun that Agents use,” Rusty noted. “Very deadly, strong kickback...”

“Bolt, load the Hummer,” Odysseus said over the phone, taking no notice of Rusty. The Hummer came into being next to them, the black paint an extreme contrast to the endless white of the Construct. They packed as many armaments as they could into it, the glove compartment stuffed with pistols, extra clips for numerous guns in the utility box between the driver and passenger, a grenade launcher under the second set of seats, as well as a sniper rifle and two M16 assault rifles.

“We’re finished with the car and guns, load melee arms.” Odysseus reached to a table that had previously been holding shotguns and grabbed a one-edged Chinese broadsword with nine rings linked in the dull side. Artemis grabbed three different knives, one for stabbing, two for throwing, and Adelard grabbed some brass knuckles and the Arabian blades. “And now we are finished with those. Put us in...”


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Old Post Jan 25th, 2004 07:25 AM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

CHAPTER 6: THE ORACLE

The Matrix snapped together like a puzzle, the pieces of it flying at them and stopping in their appropriate locations in the code. They stood in the middle of it, with their black H2 Hummer just outside the wall, in a wide alley. They lost sight of it as a wall slid into place, then a door frame flying into the gap, then the door itself, then the door handle, then the individual screws holding the knob to the door, drilling in one at the a time. All finished quickly, and they were standing in an abandoned warehouse, boxes around them. Next to them was a desk, and a phone jumped in the window and landed on the desk, chord and all. It rung, and Odysseus answered.

“We’re in,” he answered before the caller said anything.

“Good,” Bolt said on the other end. “Keep in touch.” Odysseus hung up.

“Alright, this should be simple, but there are always the risks and dangers. Don’t stay on your cell phone for too long, the System will track you. And don’t do anything stupid that will get you noticed. Keep your guns hidden,” Odysseus said, reminding them of what to do. “And if we are caught by Agents, then we run. Don’t try to run them over with the Hummer, they will smash it with mere blows...” Rusty pointed to a scar on his jaw and then pointed to another on his forearm. Artemis rolled her eyes at him. “...and if they catch you on foot, you fight them to run, and run hard.” Odysseus locked eyes with Adelard before moving to the door and opening it, revealing the Hummer sitting next to a few trash cans. They all climbed in, Adelard at the wheel, Rusty calling shotgun, and sped off down the alley. Adelard spun the wheel and calmly pulled onto Main Street just behind a large truck. Wake could tell he did not feel safe with such a large vehicle blocking them, and the driver quickly got around it.

Wake looked out the window to the streets. It was a Saturday and the holiday season had just started. He wondered what his parents were doing right now, without him. He had left so abruptly, and had been enjoying himself thoroughly with the ability to learn martial arts in mere minutes and defy gravity by running up walls. Odysseus had told him that he could not visit his parents, for they could easily turn into an Agent if he kept in their line of sight long enough. It had happened before to a young man who had survived a ship crash in the Real World but was stuck in the Matrix, a few years ago. Odysseus remembered it all too well, it seemed, and wished that no such thing would happen to Wake.

The Hummer kept going until it reached a decrepit apartment building, in healthier condition than the Sunset Homes, and still occupied.

“This is our stop...” Rusty said. “You takin’ them in, Odys?” Odysseus nodded, slightly annoyed by Rusty’s tacky shortening of his name, and got out of the car, motion for Wake and Janet alone to follow. He nodded to Adelard, who made a U-turn and parked in front of the cafe across the street. The trio headed into the building, Wake and Janet standing side by side, keeping just on Odysseus’ heels.

The captain walked up to the intercom, buzzing the apartment that obviously belonged to the Oracle. “Hello? May I asking who this is?” replied a female voice.

“This is Odysseus, captain of the Alchera. We are here to speak with the Oracle.”

“Then come right up!” the voice said cheerfully. Odysseus headed for the door. They crowded into the elevator with a few inhabitants of the dismal apartment building, and made their way out onto the floor on which the Oracle lived. Wake wondered to himself why such an all-knowing woman lived in such an austere environment. They arrived at the door, and Odysseus rapped the door with his knuckles lightly but audible enough for someone to hear inside. The door opened to reveal a young black women.

“Welcome, Odysseus. I see you have two new recruits today,” the woman smiled.

“Are you the Oracle?” Janet asked.

“Far from it, Janet, far from it.” The woman lead them into the lounge of the Oracle’s apartment. “She has been waiting for you though. She always is.”

“I know,” Odysseus smiled, having been here many times before. The woman nodded and smiled back, then peeked into the kitchen through a drapery of beads and thread. She turned back to them, and gestured for them to enter.

“The Oracle will see you now.” Without a reply, Odysseus motioned for Wake to enter the kitchen, putting a hand on Janet’s shoulder to hold her back. Wake looked back to the others, but Odysseus gave a reassuring nod, and he moved into the kitchen.

The kitchen was warm, cluttered with various papers. He took a closer look at one. A recipe for chocolate-chip cookies. The one underneath was for peanut butter, then another for apple crisps. Yum, desserts...oh wait, this is the Matrix...

“It may be the Matrix‘s representation of cookies, but it still tastes good, hun, especially if I made them,” came a voice that seemed just as warm as the kitchen itself. He turned away from the recipes to spy a little old woman shuffling about by the oven, holding a tray of cookies. Her dress, like the rest of the room, was green, with floral designs dotting ever other inch. She peered at him over the rim of her spectacles, setting down the tray on the table and putting her hands on her hips. “Well well, you must be Wake! Come, sit down, don’t feel shy.” Wake took a few steps towards the table, but merely bowed rather than sat.

“Yes, I am Wake,” he said quickly. He removed his shades, tucking them into his pocket.

“Pleasure to meet you,” the woman said, beaming widely and taking off her glasses. “I am the Oracle.” Wake shook her hand, unsure what to make of the woman who could supposedly see his future. “Well, you are very much what I expected to see! While I know your future, I couldn’t put my finger on your appearance! You are a very handsome young man, easy to see why she likes you...”

“Who?” he asked eagerly.

“Not too bright though, if you can’t figure that out. Still, doesn’t take took much thought to get into your position, does it?”

“I...uh...I guess not,” he replied, not sure what she meant.

“You were very accepting of what Odysseus told you about where we are now. That’s what I meant. Didn’t take too much thought for you to decide that what Odysseus was telling you was the truth and that there was nothing to it.”

“Right...I had seen some things that couldn’t be explained otherwise.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Agents using my friends’ bodies’ as hosts so that they could kill Turbine of the Melchizedek. I witnessed it.” The Oracle sat, giving a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to see that before you were ready, but might as well have been then than now. You never know when something will go wrong.”

“That is Rusty’s way of thinking...”

“And you think he’s a nut...” the Oracle chuckled. “He ain’t all there, ya know, but he hasn’t lost all of his marbles yet.” She gave another wide smile. She thought for a moment, then spoke again. “The Melchizedek you say? They brought in a new recruit, and they left just before you came. The kid called himself Carp.”

“Carp? Interesting name...”

“Not as interesting as Wake though, eh?” the Oracle asked, raising her brows. “Has something to do with surfing, doesn’t it?”

“Yes m’am,” Wake answered shortly. The Oracle nodded, then went into thought for a moment.

“Well, I can tell that Odysseus didn’t bring you here to teach me to surf or to talk about past events. It is the future you are here to learn about...” She closed her eyes. “I can see that you will be a valuable member to the crew of the Alchera, Wake. But your mind has not always been there. You will have to make a choice, between your past and your future.”

Wake thought for a moment, while the Oracle reopened her eyes, replaying the words in his mind. “What do you mean by choosing the past or future?”

“I can only tell you what I know, kid, and that is always worth something,” the Oracle said, taking out a pack of cigarettes labeled “Double Destiny.” She lit one and smoked for a bit while Wake thought.


__________________

Old Post Jan 25th, 2004 07:33 AM
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REXXXX
Networking

Registered: Nov 2001
Location: San Diego

Moderator


 

"But you can see the future, can’t you? That is what the others said.”

“I can, but I cannot see past decisions that you or I do not understand. I gave you the tidbit I could give, and it should be enough. Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes...but how will I know when the choice comes?”

“You will know. They always know when the time comes.”

“They?”

“The other rebels.”

“You have spoken to all of them?”

“Of course! They all have a future, and they are all in control of it. That is where the factor of choice comes in.” She rose and shuffled over to the counter. “Cookies? They are fresh out of the oven.”

“No thank you. The fact that they aren’t real makes them less appetizing.”

“Suit yourself,” the Oracle said, taking the cigarette out of her mouth and smiling. “Take care, kid.” Wake nodded gratefully and slipped his shades back on, giving the green kitchen with the orange cupboards one last look as he left. The Oracle gave him one last wide smile, putting the cigarette in an ash tray.

“How’d it go, Wake?” Janet asked as he entered the lounge.

“Whatever was said in there was for your own ears, mind you,” Odysseus butted in. “No one needs to know except for the Oracle and you.”

“Then all I shall say is that it was good, and does not sound like my future will be too harsh...”

“Let us hope...” Odysseus said, putting a hand on Wake’s shoulder. “Now Janet, it is your turn.” Janet glanced at Wake for a moment, then entered the kitchen.

She has lovely eyes... Wake thought to himself as she walked away. And a very attractive ass... His brain stopped wandering for a moment and he gave Janet some advice. “Be prepared for some difficult thinking. It‘s mind-boggling...”


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Last edited by REXXXX on Jan 25th, 2004 at 07:39 AM

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