Chapter 4 - Salvation
The Core of the Academy was identical to the core of a ship, only bigger. Twenty padded chairs were arranged in concentric rings, focused on the operator's bank of monitors. Chi was wielding the headset this afternoon, paying close attention to the vital signs of his fifteen students as they battled their way through an Agent training program.
He heard the door open quietly behind him, followed by the hollow clunk of boots against the metal floor. His ears recognized the controlled, precise steps, and he smiled, but didn't take his eyes from the screens.
"Hello, Trinity," he said quietly. "I am glad to see you up and about."
Trinity moved to stand next to him, put a cool, dry hand on his muscle-knotted shoulder. "I'll never understand how you do that, Chi." Her voice was hoarse, but rich with mirth, and had he looked up into her face, he would have seen a rare smile.
"I know my sheep," Chi replied, his own grin widening. "How are you feeling?"
As if in reply, a deep, hacking cough welled up from her chest; doubling over, she spun away from him until the spasms subsided. "Better than I was, if you can believe that," she finally replied wryly. She watched in silence for a few minutes, as Sorcha mobilized two of her classmates to act with her as a decoy for the Agent in pursuit. They raced up several flights of stairs, the black suit close behind, and burst out onto the long roof. "Is this the Mall?" she asked finally.
"Yes," Chi replied. The ringing of his phone cut off whatever else he had been planning to say. "Operator," he answered.
"Have they cut anything?" Trinity heard Sorcha's voice buzz through the receiver. Not breathless, even though she was in a flat-out run. Good girl.
"No," Chi told her. "The hardlines are still intact."
"Closest one's at Spring and Fifth?"
"That is correct."
"If the others call, tell them we're coming out that way." The line clicked into silence, just as she soared over the eighty-foot gap between the mall and its neighboring building, an expensive-looking bank. Her companions followed. The mock-Agent fired blanks into the space where Sorcha had been a moment before, then jumped after them.
Well done, Trinity thought at the monitors. "How's she doing?" she asked aloud.
Chi was silent for a few moments for no apparent reason before he replied. "Sorcha is… struggling. She works the hardest of any student I have instructed." He smiled again. "Even including you. But her work is not producing the results that it should, and she is aware of this."
Trinity frowned. "Did I not prepare her-"
"That is not the trouble," Chi interrupted firmly. "You taught her well."
"What's the problem, then?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but just then, Trinity was seized by another coughing fit. "She is having a recurring nightmare," he said, once it had passed. "It is bad enough to keep her from sleeping for more than a few hours each night." He pursed his lips, eyes flicking rapidly between the monitors. "The lack of sleep is undermining her training. Her body refuses to build muscle, and she often has trouble focusing in the Construct."
Trinity's frown deepened. "Is it an unplugging nightmare?"
"Psyche tells me that it is not. She believes Sorcha's loneliness to be at the heart of the dream."
"Loneliness?" Trinity asked, incredulous. Sorcha's friendliness and open, earnest nature had won the Neb's crew over immediately. How can she possibly be lonely?
"From what I can tell," Chi answered, "she spends her time outside of classes and duties studying. Exclusively."
"Except for baking hlaf early each morning" she replied dryly. Chi's eyebrows rose in a silent question, and she let a short bark of hoarse laughter escape her lips. "Someone has been leaving a freshly-baked loaf in front of my door for the past three days. I finally asked Sugar about it."
"You are a fortunate woman," Chi told her, grinning again.
Trinity turned back towards the door, then paused. "I'd be glad to help with some classes, if you want," she said. "Sparring, sims - anything."
Chi heard the strain in her voice, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers for the briefest of seconds. They were the eyes of a grounded hawk, a lame cheetah. "It would be an honor," he answered quietly. The phone rang again - Nova, asking for directions to the original destination - and when the line went dead, he was alone.
Trinity sat on the edge of her bed, pondering her motives. She could hear Switch's voice inside her head: "Would it kill you to be even just a little bit nurturing?"
It wouldn't kill me, Switch, she replied silently. But what would it do to her? A deep sigh turned instead into a deep cough, and when her breath finally steadied, Trinity wiped her watering eyes with the ragged sleeve of her shirt.
"Goddamnit," she muttered, the curse directed at her traitorous body. Restlessness was already consuming her, despite the fact that she was nowhere near recovered. Admit it, what Chi said about Sorcha struck a chord. Betrayed by ourselves. Weak, and trying so hard not to be.
What would happen if she let her guard down, enough for a friendship to develop? Would Sorcha just end up hurt, like Ghost had been? But Ghost was more than a friend, Trinity reminded herself bitterly. And whose fault was that?
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the familiar self-loathing. Switch was wrong - Sorcha didn't love her. It was hero-worship, that was all. And besides, she owed the girl her gratitude, at the very least.
The familiar sound of slow, deliberate footsteps outside her door finally forced Trinity to make up her mind. She rose quickly from the bed, fighting off a wave of dizziness, and covered the remaining feet to the door in long, quick strides. She yanked the door open… and there was Sorcha, caught in the act of gently depositing a fresh loaf of hlaf on the cold floor. The girl startled, stumbled, and fell backwards from her crouching position, landing flat on her rear end. Within seconds, her entire face and neck were bright, bright red.
Trinity bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud at Sorcha's stricken expression. "I'm sorry," she said softly, in the tone of voice she had always used when picking up stray cats off sidewalks in the Matrix. "I didn't mean to startle you." She reached down a hand, and Sorcha grasped it automatically, struggling to regain her feet. Once she had, she backed away from the door a little, her mouth working silently.
"Will you come in and split this with me?" Trinity asked, bending gracefully from the waist to pick up the towel-wrapped bundle. "I can never finish one by myself - not the way you make them." She gave Sorcha an encouraging smile. "Your hlaf is the best I've ever tasted."
"I'm glad," Sorcha managed to whisper finally, licking dry lips. "Are you, uh, feeling better?"
Trinity nodded, but the smile disappeared from her face. "Yes." She pushed the door open wider. "Will you come in?"
Sorcha's feet shuffled metallically against the floor. "I'd like to, T…Trinity, but…" she swallowed convulsively. "But I can't." She stared hard at the floor. "I need to go for a run before breakfast in the mess."
Trinity arched an eyebrow at her. "Extra workouts?" When Sorcha risked a glance at her face and nodded, the smile reappeared. "I used to do things like that."
"Really?" Sorcha's shyness disappeared in a bright grin, and Trinity felt it against her face like the memory of warm sunlight.
She saw the opening and seized it, firmly pushing the warning bells to the back of her mind. She can help me. I can help her. She is not Ghost. "Would you like company on your run? I could do with the exercise."
Sorcha's eyebrows tried to climb into her hairline. "Really?" Just as suddenly, though, her forehead creased in a frown. "But you're sick - you need to rest."
The irritated sigh escaped before she could stop it, and though she tried to soften her voice, it was still sharp enough to make Sorcha's shoulders hunch. "I know my limits."
The girl nodded rapidly and swallowed again, and Trinity reached out an arm across the gap that separated them to grasp her bony shoulder. Patientia est virtus. "Meet me here at 0630 tomorrow?"
Despite her misgivings, Sorcha grinned again. "Sounds good. Really good."
Trinity squeezed her shoulder once. "Thank you for the hlaf."
She turned away, then, and shut the door behind her, leaving Sorcha rooted to the floor in disbelief and exultation. What… what just happened? She shook her ringing head and finally got her feet to move in dazed, sleepwalker steps. Am I dreaming? But her tailbone still stung from her fall. Trinity is my… exercise partner? My… running buddy? The smile that finally broke out onto her face made her cheek muscles ache.
With a start, she realized that she was walking in the wrong direction. "Silly!" she muttered happily, and swung a sharp about-face. Immediately, she broke into a jog; walking was just simply not an option - not when her blood felt saturated by liquid joy.
Today, she thought, laughing out loud as she picked up speed, is a good day.
The nightmare had only allowed her two hours of sleep, but Sorcha wasn't feeling tired in the slightest. She ran easily, her pumping legs strong and sure, her breaths puffing in and out regularly. Trinity ran beside her, matching her stride for stride, their rhythm so perfect that the thudding of their boots on the floor sounded like the footsteps of one person.
They ran through the curving streets of Zion's main commercial level, and nearly every person they passed waved to them. To Trinity. It was like walking through the halls of high school with the most popular girl, Sorcha reflected, as Trinity nodded to yet another passer-by. But no, that wasn't right at all - Trinity was nothing like the shallow, immaculate, holier-than-thou Daddy's-princesses who had talked to her like she was a baby… who had made her feel awkward and worthless and inferior before she could graduate a year early and escape them in the anonymity of college.
She's the mysterious type, Sorcha reconsidered. The wild card, beautiful and mercurial - the one who's above all the games. Even that category didn't do her justice, though. There just isn't a box big enough to contain her, Sorcha concluded proudly, and smiled in approval at everyone who raised their hand in a salute.
"Chi tells me you've been having a recurring nightmare," she broke through Sorcha's reverie. The girl stumbled, and Trinity's arm shot out to support her.
"Thanks," Sorcha murmured, falling back into synchronicity with her almost immediately. Dammit, Chi! She didn't need to know! "It's… not a big deal."
"What's it about?" Trinity asked. Sorcha risked a glance at her face, searching for any trace of ridicule, but she was staring straight ahead. "Don't tell me if you don't want to - I just thought you might want to talk about it."
I do! Sorcha shouted silently. But I'm afraid you'll think I'm… oh, hell, it's too late for that anyway. "I'm standing on the surface," she began slowly, as they turned left onto a side street. "And… and the sky is black, and I'm looking at the ruins of this city."
"New York," Trinity whispered, and then began to cough. Sorcha pulled up and waited for the fit to pass, wishing she could do something to help. Tentatively, she pressed one hand to Trinity's back, to help support her against the spasms that wracked her torso. Her shirt was slightly damp with sweat. "Thanks," she muttered finally. "Sorry about that."
"Do you want to go back to your room?" Sorcha asked fretfully.
"No - let's keep going. I told you, I know my limits."
"That's not what Switch says!" Sorcha retorted before she could stop herself. Trinity turned to face her, arms akimbo.
"Oh?" she asked, too softly. "What does Switch say?"
Sorcha threw caution to the nonexistent winds and finally let all of her worry and apprehension for Trinity's health bubble to the surface. "She just told me what happened, is all. That you worked yourself to the point of exhaustion! That you refused to acknowledge that you were sick. That you fucking collapsed!"
Trinity heard the agony that saturated her words, the fearfulness and concern, and marveled at it. "I wouldn't be surprised if she honestly loves you." Could Switch have been right, after all? "I had no choice," she said out loud, staring straight into Sorcha's eyes of green fire. She should get angry more often - it becomes her. "Switch doesn't understand that."
Another coughing fit tore away her next words. "I'm sorry," she heard Sorcha muttering, as the girl again pressed a hand to the small of her back. "I shouldn't have said that. I just… people worry about you, Trinity."
Both were silent for a few minutes, while Trinity regained her breath. Finally, she pulled away and shot Sorcha a bemused look. "Y'know, I like it better when you talk to me as an equal."
"You do?" she stammered, her face suddenly suffused with red. Trinity's grin widened.
"Yeah. I do. So no more stammering, okay? And no more blushing, either." She winked and Sorcha felt - incredibly! - a laugh bubble up from her lungs. A true laugh, of delight. And miraculously, the wall that had always just been there between herself and Trinity - the wall she herself had built with her own awe and inferiority and yes, even fear - began to crumble. This was Trinity, standing in front of her in a sweaty shirt and wrinkled shorts, her hairline gleaming with perspiration and her cheeks red from exercise. A human being, not a Goddess looking down from high Olympus. A human being who wanted them to be equals, who wanted them to be able to get angry with one another. Who wanted to share jokes with her. Was it really that hard to believe? They both already knew each other's weaknesses.
In Sorcha's mind's eye, the wall collapsed into a pile of rubble. She grinned impishly - the way she often did while talking to Switch.
"I wasn't stammering!"
"Yes, you were."
"Was not," Sorcha argued cheekily. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Much better," Trinity smirked, beginning to run again. Sorcha immediately took off after her, feeling the most peculiar sense of freedom. The awe was still there, yes - as was the deeper emotion, the one she had confessed only to the Oracle - but it no longer clouded her eyes from the truth. Trinity didn't have to only be her hero; she could also be her friend.
"Now," the older woman began, her face returning to its usual seriousness. "Keep telling me about this dream."
At first, they only spent an hour together each morning, jogging slowly around the city, stopping whenever Trinity's lungs rebelled. But after a few days, Sorcha got up the nerve to ask Trinity's opinion on a simulation that she had to write for her programming class. They met in the Core after dinner that night, and the next evening, Trinity showed Sorcha a few of her own programs.
Later that week, Trinity found the girl swallowed by a padded armchair in Zion's library, a long, fat book resting open on her knees about the history of artificial intelligence.
"You're reading a book," she said flatly, but her blue eyes were glittering.
Sorcha looked up, blinking in surprise, but merely replied, "I love books. I miss the smell of them. Everyone else uses the online editions, but I'd much rather read the real things."
"There's someone you have to meet," Trinity told her. "Right now. Put down the book and come with me."
"But -"
"It's for your own good," she interrupted. "Do not make me bat my eyelashes."
Sorcha's eyes widened involuntarily, but she covered up her reaction by setting down the book, and then favored Trinity with a derisive snort. "I would love to see that. In fact, I'd pay money to. If I had any…"
"I'll keep that in mind," she replied sarcastically, "if I'm ever low on funds."
Trinity led her briskly out of the library and into an elevator. "Where are we going?" Sorcha demanded, when they got off at the fourth residential floor.
"You'll see," Trinity answered, smiling her distinctive half-smile and leading Sorcha down the corridor to the left. About a quarter of the way around, she stopped at a door on the right and knocked.
"Come in!" called a voice within. Trinity cranked open the door and stepped inside, Sorcha close on her heels. Her nose was immediately assailed by the sweet smell of incense, and she breathed in deeply. The first place in Zion that didn't smell like cold metal or human sweat!
"Trinity!" a delighted voice exclaimed softly.
"Hello, Ghost," she replied in that warm, rich voice that Sorcha had only heard her use briefly, with Chi. Sorcha watched as she touched his arm in an affectionate caress, and goosebumps rose on her own arms in sympathy. Trinity turned so she could see them both. "This is Sorcha. The one I unplugged. She started at the Academy a month ago… and I just recently learned that you and she share the same love."
Silence. Sorcha blinked at Trinity, then at Ghost - an Asian man with a gentle, young-looking face and a thin, Confucian mustache. His eyes were deep and grey, and they radiated an achingly familiar sense of longing…
"Books!" she choked, ripping her eyes away from Ghost's, and what she had seen there. "You mean books, right?" He loves her, has for a long time…
"Of course," Trinity replied simply. "Look at them all!" And she pointed to a low shelf, that was packed with thick, yellowed tomes. Sorcha sank to her knees in front of it, as though it was an altar.
"May I look at them?" she asked Ghost reverently, over her shoulder.
He smiled encouragingly and nodded. "Of course. Take all the time you like."
And she did, sitting with her back against his bed, flipping through Sophocles and Plato, Nietzche and Kant, even Ayn Rand. She exclaimed over his copy of "Lord of the Rings," and lost herself for the hundredth time in the Third Age of Middle Earth, reading it, for the first time, in the real world. Her background music was the rise and fall of Trinity and Ghost's conversation, the low laughs, the sharp, sarcastic comments, the concerned murmurings… and now and again, the deep, painful coughs that racked Trinity's slight frame.
When she crept back to her small room and into her lumpy bed that night, well after lights' out, Sorcha felt an extraordinary peace settle over her like an extra blanket. It had been such a perfect, relaxing evening - perhaps the dream would let her alone tonight.
But despite falling asleep with a smile gently curving her pale face, Sorcha woke bolt upright, covered in cold sweat, after only three hours.
The watershed finally came a few nights later, when Trinity was walking slowly past the students' quarters, on her way back to her room after a long poker game with Niobe, Ghost, and Maggie in the mess. It was just past 0100, and as she passed Sorcha's room, she was happy that the lights weren't still on. Hope you're sleeping well, kid, she thought.
"TRINITY!"
It was a frantic shout, bursting with urgency, and Trinity felt every muscle in her body tense painfully at the sound. What in the hell?
"Trinity!" The despairing call came again, softer this time, almost a moan. Sorcha's room. Trinity didn't think - she only reacted. She wrenched open the door and ran to the narrow bed that was built into the side of the far wall. Sorcha was entangled in her covers, twisting fitfully from side to side, and when Trinity put her hand on her forehead, her palm came away covered in sweat.
God… she goes through this every night? "Sorcha," she said firmly, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Sorcha, wake up. It's just a drea-"
Sorcha jerked awake, breathing hard. Something was holding her down! She struggled desperately, trying to free her arms… and went stock still at the sound of the familiar voice.
"Easy, Sorcha, easy. It was just a dream. It's over, now."
"T…trinity?" Sorcha's dazed brain was in overdrive. How…?
"You're stammering again," she said affectionately, smoothing the damp hairs back from Sorcha's forehead. The girl laughed weakly.
"What are you… why are you here?"
"I was walking past, and heard you shouting," she replied softly, helping Sorcha to disentangle herself from the blanket. "You… you called my name."
Sorcha turned her head to the wall - despite Trinity's injunctions against blushing, she could feel her face heating up.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Trinity murmured, her fingers gently rubbing Sorcha's scalp in tiny circles. "Can you fall back asleep, do you think?"
"I've never been able to," she replied, still facing the wall. Her jaws cracked in a wide yawn. "Thank you… feels… so nice." Trinity continued her gentle massage, watching Sorcha's eyes close and her body slowly relax. She needed sleep so badly - a sleep that wasn't haunted by loneliness.
Trinity knelt there by Sorcha's side for a long moment, weighing her choices. Walk away, part of her whispered. Walk away, and let her get through this on her own. It's not your fight.
But I can help her, she argued back. And… and I'm tired of sleeping alone.
The other half cackled at her. You think sleeping is all you'll do? Haven't you seen how she looks at you when she thinks you don't notice?
Get out of my head, she said firmly. She needs this, and so do I. It will not get out of control.
"If I stayed here tonight," she asked slowly, "do you think you could sleep?"
Sorcha's body tensed, but Trinity didn't let her fingers stop moving against the girl's scalp. "What do you mean?" she asked weakly.
Trinity didn't reply, but instead kicked off her boots and slid under the blanket next to Sorcha, who remained stiffly facing the wall. "Is this okay?" Trinity whispered. "Do you want me to leave?"
The silence stretched for several minutes, until Trinity thought that perhaps Sorcha had fallen asleep, after all. "No," Sorcha said finally, her voice shaking. "Please… please stay."
Gradually, her body relaxed; gradually, she moved closer to Trinity. Trinity stroked her back with a gentle hand, and finally let that hand come to rest on Sorcha's hip. Slowly, she moved it along the girl's thin waist, until her fingers were splayed out over Sorcha's stomach. Their bodies were touching lightly, and when Sorcha drew a deep breath, she was surrounded by that gentle, indefinable, Trinity-scent.
"Is this okay?" Trinity whispered again, her warm breath tickling Sorcha's ear.
"Yes," she murmured sleepily. "It's… perfect."
Nestled as she was in Trinity's muscular arms, the nightmare didn't stand a chance. Sorcha let her last sliver of apprehension go, and finally relaxed completely into the older woman's embrace. Trinity listened to her breathing slow, and smiled against her neck. It was the right choice, was the last thought that echoed through her head, before she too was pulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Trinity woke early the next morning, and gently lifted her arm from Sorcha's waist. She slid out of the bed slowly and carefully, not wanting to disturb the exhausted girl, and made her way to the computer. While it was turning on, she flicked off the wall alarm with a satisfied grin. Nothing was going to wake her up.
She logged on and wrote a quick email to Chi - he would want Sorcha to sleep for as long as possible. When she was finished, though, she turned to regard the bed with a frown. Should she leave?
A fierce yawn that left her jaw trembling finally made the decision for her. She climbed delicately back into the bed and pulled the thin blanket up so that it covered them both to their chins. And then she curled around Sorcha and waited for sleep to claim her once more.
Neither spoke of it, the next day, except for when Trinity again found Sorcha in the library that night. She crouched down next to the girl's chair, and murmured,
"When you're finished, come to my room." Sorcha's eyes flashed wide, and Trinity ruffled her hair playfully. "The bed's bigger."
Since then, neither had spent a night alone. Sorcha's nightmares had vanished, and the change was remarkable. Slowly but steadily, her arms and legs were changing from stick-thin to well toned, and her time on the obstacle course decreased daily. Trinity also was improving rapidly; after two weeks, her cough had all but disappeared.
And then the Nebudchanezzar came home.
On the one hand, Sorcha loved having the Neb in Zion - it meant that she could sometimes skip dinner in the mess for a meal with Tank and Dozer, or walk around the city at night with Switch. But on the other hand, it meant that Trinity's time in the city was almost up.
So when Morpheus finally announced one morning at breakfast that he and his crew would be leaving the next day, Sorcha wasn't surprised. Instead, disappointment and fear fought for her attention. What if the nightmares returned once she was gone?
"If we're heading out tomorrow," Cypher muttered as he pushed his chair back from the table,
"Then we're partying tonight!" Apoc finished for him, grinning widely. "Loco's after dinner, yes?"
Switch's eyes flashed, and she grinned wickedly at Sorcha. "You better promise to come too, fuzzy," she said. "There's fun for the whole family at Loco's."
"I'll come," she replied quickly, feeling a thrill surge under her skin that made the fear loosen its grip.
Trinity looked down at her curiously. "Have you ever been drunk?"
"No," the girl replied, lifting her chin slightly in defense. "But I've always been curious!"
Switch snorted in laughter. "I can't wait to see what a viola does to you."
"What's a viola?" Sorcha asked. "Aside from a musical instrument, I mean," she added sarcastically, feeling the need to match Switch's tone.
"It's… a drink," Trinity explained. "It's much like alcohol, except that it's a stimulant. And it's not nearly as damaging to your body."
"It's not just a drink," Apoc cut in, his grin wicked in anticipation. "It's the drink."
"Why's it called the viola?" Sorcha asked quizzically.
"Viola was one of the first captains, when Zion was only a few years old," Switch explained. "She's the one who figured out the recipe."
"What a wonderful woman," Cypher crooned.
"All right," Trinity said after a moment, pushing her own chair back and rising smoothly to her feet. "If we are going to Loco's tonight, that means we need to get all the prep work done today." She raised that formidable left eyebrow at her crew.
"And I have target practice," Sorcha announced, stacking up all of their plates. Her eyes met Trinity's across the table.
"Good luck," she said. I'm sorry I have to leave. But you'll be all right.
"Thanks," Sorcha replied. Tonight… the last time for two months.
Sorcha had dishwashing duty that night, but as soon as she had scrubbed the last remains of soup from the big pot, she hung up her apron and didn't stop running until she reached Loco's. The bar was set in a converted warehouse, from the days when nearly all of Zion had been a shipbuilding facility. It was a long, low building with dim lighting and a particularly pungent smell, and Sorcha felt a strong surge of relief as soon as she noticed Trinity's tall, lithe figure standing in front of the bar.
"Hey," she said, coming to stand next to her and surveying the entire scene with much more confidence than she had upon first walking through the door.
"Hi," Trinity replied, smiling slightly. "How were the dishes?"
Sorcha wrinkled her nose. "Dirty."
Just then, the bartender called Trinity's name, and when she turned, he presented her with a tray, on which sixteen short, metal cups were brimming with a clear liquid. She took the tray, her biceps bulging slightly with the strain, and motioned with her head for Sorcha to follow her.
"Look who I found," she called out as she approached a large, pockmarked corner table, around which the entire crew of the Neb, minus only Morpheus, were lounging.
"Fuzzy's here for her first taste of aqua vitae!" Switch exclaimed gleefully, passing shots from the tray around the table. Sorcha squeezed onto a wobbly bench next to Trinity and pressed her fingertips to the cold little cup that was sitting before her.
Trinity raised her shot into the air, and the others followed suit. "To a successful new mission," she said softly, "and to everyone making it back home safely."
"Amen," said Cypher, grinning.
"God, I love this stuff," said Mouse, and gulped noisily.
Sorcha was watching Trinity; she tilted her chin up and raised the shot to her lips, then threw her head back along with the drink, baring her long, white neck as she swallowed once.
God, she's beautiful. It was getting harder and harder to stop those thoughts from coming.
Switch watched Sorcha watch Trinity, and grinned. She clinked her glass with Apoc, and then her glass was empty. Tank and Dozer, Zion boys that they were, shot two in quick succession, then leaned back in their chairs to wait for the rush.
"Go ahead," Trinity urged Sorcha. "Just drink it all at once."
Sorcha fingered the cup again and lifted it to her lips. She sniffed tentatively; it didn’t smell the way she remembered her father's wine glass smelling. It was… sweet. Sweet and strong. She raised the glass higher, tipped her head back… and let the clear liquid cascade down her throat.
She carefully lowered the cup to the table, and stared around at the familiar faces, most of which were smirking at her. "Now what happens?" she demanded.
"Now you wait," said Apoc. "But not for long…"
Perhaps it was the fact that she'd never had a drink, neither in the Real World, nor in the Matrix. Or, perhaps it was the fact that she was still much thinner than she should be. But whatever the reasons, the viola hit Sorcha a full minute before it hit anyone else.
One second, she was firing jokes back and forth across the table with Switch… and the next, she was sitting back limply in her chair, watching as the entire room spun crazily before her eyes.
"Holy shit," she whispered, in the throes of vertigo. The room finally righted itself… but now everything was brighter - more distinct. She could feel the draft in the corner prickle the fine hairs on her arm; could see the tiny, tiny cracks running throughout the table top. Every sound was suddenly louder, and she could hear - hear! - the conversation at the table across the room. She turned her head and felt the muscles in her neck pulling and pushing, felt her eyes moving in their sockets as she looked at each member of the Neb in turn. "This is crazy."
She watched the domino effect as it slowly began to take hold of the others - next Mouse, whose eyes suddenly clamped closed; then Apoc, who let out a quiet gasp; then Switch, whose nearly colorless eyes suddenly flared with brilliance. And then Trinity… Trinity took a deep breath, letting her head fall back in abandon. "Oh, yes," she whispered. Sorcha couldn't stop staring at the pale contours of her delicate throat.
After a little while, the conversation started up again… but Sorcha was content merely to listen. Everything was slower somehow - slower and more deliberate - and she loved it. Loved the lack of urgency. Tomorrow would never come. Trinity met her eyes, once, and Sorcha smiled - a full, slow, brilliant smile. It telegraphed the depth of her emotion - she knew it, but didn't care. Couldn't care. And in reply, Trinity's lips curled ever so slightly in a knowing, mysterious grin that made Sorcha ache somehow, deep inside.
After a while, they all did another shot… and the effects returned tenfold, until Sorcha was left breathless and motionless, gasping at the sheer intensity of her existence. Some - Trinity, Tank, Dozer, Cypher - even dared a third shot, and Sorcha watched it slam into them, the shockwaves of perception. She watched through lazy eyes as the bar gradually began to empty, until their table was one of the last ones surrounded by people.
"I," announced Mouse suddenly, "am going to bed." He stood up, wobbled, and caught himself on his chair. "Yes, I am."
"Not a bad idea," Trinity said. Her words were slow - slow and distinct and careful. She turned to look at Sorcha with hooded eyes. "Are you… coming?"
"Yes." Sorcha managed to force the word out between her ultra-sensitive lips. She had never thought much about her lips, but they begged attention now - they thrummed with need. She pressed two fingers against them to ease the building pressure.
She followed Trinity out of the bar and down the curving streets. For some reason, Sorcha was clutching her hand by the time they found an elevator. They rode up in silence, palms meeting slickly, feeling the metal floor vibrate beneath their sensitive feet, even through the thick boots.
Sorcha didn't let go of Trinity's hand until they were inside her room, until the door had been firmly closed. Trinity leaned back against it and breathed in deep, slow, sucking breaths, loving how her lungs no longer hitched or wheezed. Sorcha watched her with hungry eyes, dark green eyes that grew steadily hungrier, until finally she had to turn away - turn away or burn down to a cinder. This fire - she didn't understand.
She made her way to the bed on unsteady legs and slowly lowered herself onto the cover. The curved ceiling spun above her.
Trinity followed, sat down on the edge of the mattress. "You all right?"
Sorcha's words were stolen by her eyes - they burned into Trinity, burned and burned until neither could resist… until Trinity bent down and Sorcha lifted her head, and their lips - those focal points of feeling - finally met.
Soft. Pure, purest soft. A softness so exquisite, so complete, that it became so much more than softness, more than words, until there was only FEELING, feeling coursing through them both, under their skin.
Deeper and deeper they fell into each other, until their lips were clashing urgently with need, still soft but no longer gentle. Trinity's muscular thigh was pressed between Sorcha's legs, and Sorcha's thin fingers were dancing across the long muscles of Trinity's back, under her shirt…
"No," Trinity gasped suddenly, drawing her hungry lips away from Sorcha's. She was throbbing with need - pulsing and drowning in it - but this was not the way it should go. Not like this, for the first time - drunk and desperate and selfish. Sorcha's hands still moved beneath her shirt, and she pulled further away, reluctantly. "Sorcha," she groaned. "Stop. Please. STOP."
The firm voice finally roused Sorcha from her drugged neediness, and she blinked at Trinity with confused eyes. "But… I thought…"
"I do," she replied. "Want. You. But not like this. Not drunk and crazy, not now."
"You leave… tomorrow," Sorcha murmured, drawing closer again. Trinity forced herself to put her hands on Sorcha's shoulders, to push her away.
"After two months' waiting… it will be… sweeter."
Sorcha groaned, and turned onto her back, breathing in short, sharp pants. "Two months…"
Trinity forced her hands away from Sorcha's lithe body, and instead began massaging her scalp, just like she had done the first night, after her nightmare. "Sleep," she crooned, gritting her teeth to ignore the thunderous, fiery desire pulsing through her every cell. "Sleep now… even when I'm… not here, sleep…"
Gradually, Sorcha's uneven breathing began to slow. "That's right," Trinity murmured, feeling the sharpness of the violas begin to withdraw from her blood, giving way to the fatigue that crept into its familiar spot behind her eyes.
"Sleep, Sorcha. Sleep."
Chapter 5 >