Chapter 7 - Awakenings
All I've known, all I've done, all I've felt
Was leading to this.
- "Gorecki" by Lamb
Sorcha stood on the edge of the dock of Bay 7 until the great titanium doors slid shut, blocking her view of the departing Nebudchanezzar. Her lips still tingled from Trinity's achingly tender parting kiss, given right here, in front of everyone. Morpheus and Apoc had turned their heads away to give them what privacy they could. Cypher's mouth had twisted into a sneering grimace. Switch… Switch's cool, grey eyes had been brimming with shining sympathy. And Mouse's jaw had dropped a good three inches.
The memory of his reaction almost made her smile. Almost. Most of her felt as though she would never smile again.
"Just come back safely," she murmured at the closed doors. "Whatever else happens… just come back."
She spun on her right heel, a crisp about-face like a good little soldier, and stalked back towards her room, fully intending to bury herself in work. There certainly was enough of it! So, when she saw Mongoose and Pegasus lounging with their backs against the wall of the corridor leading from the docks, she had to struggle not to grimace.
"Yo," said Goose.
"Hi, Sorcha," said Pegasus.
"Hey, guys," Sorcha replied, and kept walking. They fell in beside her.
"Where are you going?" asked Pegasus after a few steps.
"To my room, to get some work done." She kept her gaze straight ahead, fearing that if she let herself look into another human face, the tears pushing like tidal waves against the backs of her eyes would be unstoppable.
"Homework?" Mongoose exclaimed, his voice cracking halfway through. He frowned and refused to acknowledge Peg's snort of laughter. "But it's a day off! Two in a row, man… I love Death Day."
"The generally accepted practice for doing homework, Mongoose," began Sorcha, her voice dripping with fierce sarcasm, "is to do it before the day it's due."
"Well, shit," Goose replied, matching her tone. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me that?"
They walked in silence for a few seconds, footsteps echoing metallically in the empty halls. Pegasus and Mongoose exchanged frowning glances behind Sorcha's back, and timidly, Peg reached out her hand to touch Sorcha's shoulder. The girl jumped at the light contact and ground to a halt; Pegasus winced away, holding up her hands.
"Sorry, Sorcha, sorry - didn't mean to startle you!"
Sorcha took a deep, angry breath… and let it all out in a gush as Pegasus flinched again, preemptively. She looked down at her scuffed boots. "It's all right," she said softly. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I-" she shook her head. "I guess I'm just a bit on edge today."
Mongoose opened his mouth, but Pegasus beat him to it. "Look," she began fiercely. "We know about you and Trinity, so you can just stop being all vague about what's bothering you. We know the Neb just left. We know you're sad and probably scared, too. Maybe even angry. Lord knows I'd be pissed off if I had to sit here twiddling my thumbs while the woman I loved went off to deliberately throw herself in the path of danger." She took a shuddering breath and stared intently into Sorcha's surprised eyes. "But we're not going to let you mope around and be morose. Besides… is that what she would want?"
Sorcha's breath whistled out in a soft sigh. "Unfair," she said quietly, but without malice.
"So," said Mongoose tentatively after a short pause. "We were thinking of going to Bean's." He quirked a grin. "They've got a new flavor of synthetic coffee - supposed to be all the rage." He squinted at Sorcha. "What do you say?"
"Do I really have a choice?" she asked with the barest of grins. Who does, these days?
"Not especially," Pegasus replied, but her eyes glinted with repressed laughter.
"Looks like I'm coming with you, then," she answered. "For a little while, at least."
For a while there, as she sat at a dimly-lit booth, sipping out of a lopsided mug and trying to laugh at Goose's lame jokes, Sorcha was afraid they wouldn't let her sleep alone. She needed to have at least some time to think - to process all that Trinity had told her. She tried to smile at Pegasus occasionally, but all the while, the silent argument was seething in her brain. Had Morpheus found the One? And if he had, would Trinity fall in love with him? What if she didn't? What did the goddamned Oracle really know, anyway?
She knew I missed cocoa…
"Hey… earth to Sorcha!" Pegasus was leaning forward and smiling that tentative smile as Mongoose waved a too-enthusiastic hand in front of her face.
"Sorry," Sorcha murmured. "I think it might be time for sleep." Or time for me to think without so many interruptions!
Thankfully, neither of them insisted on watching over her bed, though Pegasus did walk Sorcha back to her door. "Are you going to be all right?" she asked softly, as Sorcha yanked on the stiff, rusted wheel. Sorcha tried to make her lips curl in a grateful smile.
"I'll be fine, Peg. But… thank you. I guess I did need some company after all."
"Good night," Sorcha," the girl replied. For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to say something else, but then she closed her mouth and spun away. Sorcha stared after her curiously for a few seconds, but finally entered her room and threw herself down on the lumpy bedding.
I miss you, Trinity, she thought, mentally propelling the thought upwards and outwards, hoping it would somehow find the incandescent Nebudchanezzar, wherever it had settled for the night in the labyrinth of tunnels.
The next morning, Sorcha woke up and reached for the firm, soft body next to her, shifting so she could snuggle closer… and her eyes clanged open as her hand met nothing but cold sheet.
Shit.
She got out of bed and resolutely pulled on an already dirty pair of shorts and a stained tank top. It was back to running alone. But just as the thought flickered through her hazy brain, a soft knock sounded. She frowned and yanked on her shoes, then padded to the door. Pegasus blinked sleepily at her from the other side, but she was dressed in exercise clothes as well.
"Good morning," she said, shuffling her feet slightly.
"Hi," replied Sorcha, running one hand through her tangled hair. What's this all about? "You're up early."
"Well…" Peg began slowly, "For the past week or so, I've noticed you and Trinity running in the morning, and I… I thought you might like… company today."
Sorcha's eyebrows raised in surprise - she'd been paying close attention! - but before she could say anything, Pegasus hurriedly spoke up again.
"But I'll totally understand if you'd rather be alone! Besides," she went on shyly, "I'm not nearly as fast as you are."
Sorcha found herself laughing softly. "Don't worry about that - it's just a jog, anyway." She opened the door more widely so she could slip out. "Let's stretch a bit first, though."
Pegasus shot her a wide grin, and Sorcha couldn't help but smile in return.
Did you put her and Goose up to this, Trinity? she wondered as they fell into step together, jogging slowly along the deserted, echoing hallways. If you did… thank you.
Trinity sat alone in the Core. Her blue-steel gaze flickered between the array of green-dripping monitors, and one console in which the strange, encrypted characters appeared larger, zoomed in.
What are you doing up so late, Neo? she wondered. Brooding, like me?
For the first few days after they left Zion, Trinity had been in thrall to a stormy temper, the likes of which Morpheus and the rest of the crew had never seen. She stalked through the ship, snapping at anyone who spoke to her, and even some who didn't. Switch had heard her muttering under her breath at the monitors during one late-night shift; she had briefly thought about interrupting, but the string of breathy obscenities that Trinity was hurling at the machines was enough to forestall her. She wasn't stupid.
Trinity was angry, and she was afraid. It made her even angrier that she was afraid. Above all, resentment stormed through her blood like a rampant virus - resentment of the Oracle for her senseless manipulation, resentment of Morpheus for his singlemindedness, resentment of this Neo for making her question everything.
Everything. The possibility of falling in love with him was enough to torment her. Love was dependent and needy. It was a yielding up of control, a surrender. And Trinity loved her control - loved it passionately, almost fanatically. She was not going to give up her control for anyone - she hadn't for Sorcha, and she certainly would not for this new unknown, this man who could do things that even Morpheus had not been able to do. So the fuck what? Did that make him the One?
No. He would only be the One if she fell in love with him. And she could not, she could not. She would not.
But besides all that, there was the simple fact that if he was the One, if he truly was, then the last battle - Ragnarok, the Apocalypse, Armageddon, it had so many names - was imminent. How was she supposed to even begin to wrap her mind around that? And there was so little hope, so very little, and so very many obstacles. How to defeat the armies of Squiddies, and Runners, and Trackers? How to destroy the machines so completely that they could never rise up again? How to do all of this - all of it - and yet maintain the Matrix, so that humanity was not lost? And finally… how to free all of those people - millions of people - into a dark, lifeless world that was not prepared for them? There was no room in Zion for millions.
These questions overwhelmed her, crashed over her continually, like a never-subsiding tide against a brittle, black cliff. They chipped away at her. They made her afraid. And that made her angry.
Gradually, though, the red tide of rage began to give way to a grudging empathy, as Trinity spent more and more time monitoring Neo in the Matrix. She was being manipulated, yes - but so was he. Perhaps even moreso.
We're about to take your whole life away, she told him silently, watching him punch search after search into his computer, night after night. Searches for Morpheus. Don't look for him, Neo - he'll catch you up, catch you up and never let you go… he'll push you so damn hard… you'll do things you never thought were possible. You'll shatter and break and he'll make you rebuild yourself, piece by painful piece. And you'll love him - you'll love him and want him to be proud, and you'll sacrifice everything for that. Everything. And the worst part will be that you'll sacrifice everything willingly. Because he makes you believe, Neo - he makes you. Once you believe, this war becomes a part of you. It gets in your blood, until you have to fight it - until you can't rest. You become a shark, that dies if it stops swimming.
"Trinity," said Morpheus, his voice irretrievably shattering her reverie. She hadn't even heard him enter. Her head turned towards him slowly, as though compelled.
"It's time, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Everything is in place for tomorrow. Choi contacted him, and they have a meeting arranged in twenty-four hours."
"Which means we need to start watching from inside."
He nodded again. "I've got the first shift. Then Apoc, Switch, you, and Cypher." His mouth tightened in a sharp grin. "Cypher will prime him for Choi, who get him out of the apartment, and then you'll meet him in the Club."
"In twenty-four hours." She swallowed convulsively. When I first see you, Neo, what will I think?
Morpheus put a warm hand on her cold, thin shoulder. "You should get some rest."
"The worst part," Sorcha said vehemently, hearing her voice rise slightly in pitch, "is that I don't know what's happening to her! To the Neb, I mean. It's fucking classified!" She glared unseeing at Pegasus, who was sitting across the rickety table from her, a worried frown creasing her pale forehead.
"We're training to be crewmates, for God's sake!" Sorcha continued. "Why the hell is it classified from us?" She sighed heavily. "I just want a peek at the Neb's daily log, that's all. I just want to know that she's still alive."
Peg's frown deepened in sympathy, and she knotted her hands together under the table… but suddenly her head jerked back so fast that the world swam dizzily before her eyes. Of course!
"We'll hack the mainframe," she said softly, her voice rich with determination and resolve. Sorcha's eyes flared.
"We'll do what?"
"If they won't tell us, then we'll hack in and find out for ourselves."
"But… can it be done?" Sorcha's mind was racing. Why hadn't I thought of this? No, no, it'll be impossible… the mainframe was designed by hackers - it'll be foolproof!
Pegasus leaned forward intently. "Of course it can be done," she urged. "Every system has its weakness - even this system. It'll be hard as hell, but it is possible."
"I can't believe I didn't think of this before," Sorcha murmured, her fevered brain already racing far ahead of her words, thinking of how it might be accomplished. A weak spot… where is there a weak spot?
Pegasus grinned at her smugly. "You've been too busy being Zion's golden child to think of disobedient plans like this."
Sorcha bared her teeth in a half-smile, half-grimace. "Looks like I'm handing in my resignation for that position," she sneered. "Effective immediately."
Pegasus pushed her chair back with a harsh, grating noise and held out her hand. "C'mon. Let's go kick some authoritarian ass."
Sorcha looked at Peg's white, upturned palm, riddled with fresh calluses from the Monkeybars, and slowly put her own rough hand into it. The younger girl's palm was slightly slick with sweat.
Pegasus let go as soon as they passed through Bean's saloon-style doors, and Sorcha also disengaged, though she found herself reluctant to do so, and surprised at her reluctance. It felt so good to have touch - affectionate human contact - after over a week of Trinity's absence. The hunger for affection had been awakened in her, and a part of her knew that she could never be fully satisfied in her life without it, again.
But as they strode briskly down Zion's main street, Sorcha forced her curiosity about Peg's motives out of her mind. They had a mission to accomplish, and it wasn't going to be easy.
On the night that Sorcha and Pegasus first began to attempt a breach of Zion's firewalls, Trinity outran three Agents in the Matrix and barely escaped back into reality with her life. Her lip and cheek were bleeding, and she couldn't stop shaking as she sat up in the chair, though she managed to hide that fact from everyone but Switch.
"I'll go meet him," Switch hissed at her, as she affixed a sterile band-aide over the angry welt of Trinity's cheek laceration.
"No," Trinity replied firmly, and infinitely more calmly than she felt. "No. I have to go."
"Why, dammit? You just had the closest call of your life. You're rightfully shaken up. Stay out for God's sake! It doesn't have to be you."
"It does." Trinity willed her fingers to stop their trembling, and slowly, they obeyed her.
"Why?" Switch insisted, her pale eyes boring into Trinity's dilated blue ones. Black and blue, like twin bruises.
Trinity looked away.
Switch sighed and rose stiffly to her feet. "Fortunately, your lip doesn't need stitches."
"Thank you," Trinity murmured, still refusing to meet her eyes. And then she swung her head towards Tank, who was looking on apprehensively. "Send me back in, Tank," she told him, letting herself fall once again into the embrace of her chair.
"Your call," he muttered. "Hope you brought your dancing shoes."
When Trinity first saw Neo, standing alone with his arms crossed, one shoulder barely touching the wall as though he needed some kind of grounding, she thought he was beautiful.
It was the first thought that flashed through her mind, and unlike her other instincts, she immediately questioned it. Why? Because of his unusual abilities? Because Morpheus says he is the One, and the Oracle says I must be attracted to that man? Because he is dark and lonely and confused, like me?
His loose black shirt accentuated the paleness of his arms, and one long-fingered hand clutched a drink absently, uncertainly. He was thin, almost gaunt, as though the questions burning in his mind were eating away at his body. She resisted the strange compulsion to go to him, resisted and watched from the shadows.
Who are you, Neo? Are you the One? He turned slightly, baring his angular profile to her scrutiny. His was an austere face - severe and white - and she could see the touch of darkness under one eye from too little sleep. And yet, even from this distance, she could somehow sense a latent power in him, as though just beneath his nearly translucent skin flowed some depthless, radiating current. He reminded her of an angel - a dark, amnesiac angel. Waiting but not knowing why, wanting but not knowing what.
I am your answers, Neo, she thought suddenly, taking an involuntary step forward.
She was drawn to him, and not only because she had to be. A part of her wanted to be drawn, wanted to be overshadowed, overpowered, and it frightened her. But she was drawn, nevertheless.
Trinity removed her sunglasses and set them down on the bar. She wanted him to see her eyes. She wanted to know what he saw when he looked at her.
"Hello, Neo."
His head turned first; his body followed slowly. She watched him take her in: her black dress, the white skin below her throat, the precise, sinuous grace of her movements. But his eyes did not rove her body - they remained pinned to her own. Pinned almost helplessly, chocolate caught by a stormy sea of blue. She felt the submerged, sleeping power in him - felt it even more acutely as she drew closer to his digital body - but knew that in this exchange at least, she had the upper hand.
Confidence returned with control.
"How do you know that name?" he asked, his voice like soft sandpaper.
"I know a lot about you," she replied mysteriously, feeling her mouth twitch with the tease.
"Who are you?" His eyes were still trapped in hers, his body leaning towards hers slightly as she drew ever closer.
Who are you? she echoed silently. Are you the One? The One who will save us? The One who will take from me what I cannot give? She moved even closer, until her RSI was so close to his that the lack of contact felt like pain.
"My name is Trinity."
Sorcha rubbed her gritty eyes with the backs of her hands and yawned. Her breath lightly fogged an oval section of the computer screen. Pegasus had rested her elbows on the cold metal desk and was cradling her face in her hands.
"Face it," she murmured, voice muffled. "We're stuck already. We need another brain on this."
"We can't ask anyone else," Sorcha half-sighed, half-groaned, her jaw cracking in another yawn. "Who else can we trust?"
Peg lifted her head in thought. "I think we could trust Mongoose," she said finally.
"You think?" Sorcha retorted. "Pegasus… we're hacking into the Zion mainframe, here. We are definitely not supposed to be doing this! We can't be uncertain of who we ask for help."
Peg's eyes focused with remarkable swiftness, given the lateness of the night. "I trust him," she said quietly.
Do I trust you? Sorcha wondered. The sudden answer, surprisingly swift, was almost like an instinct. "All right," she said aloud. "Let's go wake him up."
"Shit," Trinity muttered, as one of the Agents looked up at her just as the other two were shoving Neo none too gently into their black car. She gunned the bike and accelerated quickly into the flow of traffic, only narrowly avoiding being sideswiped by an unsuspecting minivan. But she never lost control.
Goddamn Agents, she cursed silently, her eyes roving her mirrors. What are they going to do to him? Why the hell should I care?
But she did care. She cared, and it felt like falling down that flight of stairs again - heart hammering, desperately trying to convince herself that the opposite of truth was true. Get up, Trinity. Pull yourself together, Trinity. He's just another coppertop.
She could see the flashing neon sign of the American Pie diner, getting closer and closer on her right. In the hallway where the restrooms were, there was a phone. She put on her blinker.
You know he's special. Admit it.
No, she contradicted firmly, biting down on her lower lip so hard that it drew virtual blood. He wimped out back there. He's not. No.
It took them five nights to do it - five, bleary nights of failure until the way finally opened before them like the path between Scylla and Charybdis.
"Here goes," whispered Peg, as she watched Sorcha's fingers flex above the keyboard.
"Are you sure you can do this?" muttered Mongoose. "If we leave any trace - anything - or if we so much as try to look at a wrong file, we're gonna get our virtual heads chewed off by the watchdogs."
"I can do it," Sorcha replied firmly, but her forehead was glistening. "I'm going to be very, very careful."
"If we make it through this without getting caught…" Peg's voice trailed off. Sorcha took a deep breath, and began typing.
"Trinity, this is insane," Switch growled, her hands balled into fists. Her raised voice created tinny echoes throughout the Core that rose and fell in shrill, ghostlike whispers. "We know he's bugged! We know it! And now Morpheus wants us to go in and pick him up?" She threw up her arms, eyes wide in anger and more than a little fear. "We're as good as dead!"
Trinity looked up from her monitor, and her blue eyes were clear. "They want Morpheus - they'll wait to take over Neo until we get to the hotel. And by that time," she shrugged. "We'll have the bug out of him. When they finally figure out what happened, we'll have already pulled him from the sewers."
"Oh, so it's that easy?" Switch sneered.
"It has to be done. We'll do it."
Switch glared at her, shaking her head. "Suicide," she said harshly. "Plain and simple." Finally, though, she straightened her shoulders and stalked over to her own monitor. "Always knew it'd happen someday," she muttered. "May as well be today."
"Out of range?" Sorcha choked out in disbelief. "Out of fucking range? We don't sleep for five nights, and all we get is 'out of range'?" She sank back in her chair and closed her eyes, her throat tight and her eyes stinging.
"Easy, easy," Pegasus said gently, squeezing her shoulder. "You know the protocol as well as I do - a ship has to report at least every forty-eight hours. They won't be out of range forever."
"Besides," Mongoose piped up, "there's always the backlogs! They should be one directory up. C'mon!" he urged when Sorcha remained motionless. "Go take a peak!"
"I'll do it," Peg said crisply, and keyed in the commands. A short list appeared - it looked as though Morpheus didn't report any more than was strictly necessary - but Sorcha perked up as soon as she saw the file names.
They began from the earliest report - a day after the Neb had left Zion - and worked their way up to the most recent log. For a few minutes, all were too busy reading to speak, but that changed with a sharp gasp from Sorcha.
"What?" she yelped. "Three?" She let her head fall back against the chair's headrest, breathing heavily. "She outran three Agents. Three. God."
Peg squeezed her shoulder again. "But she did it. She made it out."
Mongoose whistled lowly, his eyes still flicking back and forth across the screen. "Looks like they're prepping to get this target out of the Matrix, ASAP!"
Sorcha and Pegasus both leaned forward and read where Mongoose pointed. "But -" Peg began, "if they're freeing him, then that means they'll be back here soon!" She smiled at Sorcha encouragingly. "That's the protocol, right? To get back to Zion as soon as is safely possible after freeing a mind? So, it should be a few days at most!"
Mongoose was nodding, but Sorcha frowned and shook her head emphatically. "It is protocol," she agreed, "but there's no way Morpheus will follow it."
"Whyever not?"
Sorcha took a deep breath and stared into the tired eyes of her companions. Can't see how it would do any harm… "Morpheus thinks he's the One," she said aloud. "He's been looking for the One for… years. There's no way he'll bring that guy home right away, to where Commander Locke could get his hands on him. Morpheus will want to train him, himself."
"The One?" Pegasus asked incredulously. "The One of the Prophecy?"
"The very same," Sorcha said dryly. "It's politics, plain and simple. Morpheus believes the Oracle; he believes that the One will have the ability to put an end to the war. He'll want to train this guy very carefully so that his main goal is the fulfillment of the Prophecy."
Pegasus' eyebrows lowered in a frown. "How is that different from what Commander Locke would want?"
"Deadbolt doesn't believe in the Prophecy," Mongoose chimed in. "He thinks the Oracle's full of beans. He'd probably just want to use this guy as a weapon, if he really is the One."
"Yes," Sorcha mused quietly. Her brain was spinning in turmoil. Dammit, Trinity, what are you thinking? What are you feeling? Do you see the potential in him? Are you falling in love with him? "If."
The report came a day later - the crew had successfully freed Neo, and his muscles were being reconstructed. The prognosis was that it would take at least two weeks.
"Ships have incubators?" Pegasus asked, her chin inches away from Sorcha's right ear as she peered over the red-head's shoulder. "I thought the only reconstruction facilities were here in Zion."
"Oh, they have the basics," Mongoose explained. "Just in case getting back to Zion after freeing someone takes longer than expected. But Morpheus…" he trailed off, looking to Sorcha.
"Dozer's specialty is medical engineering," Sorcha explained. "Not mechanical, like most people think. By all rights, he should be working here in Zion. And he used to…"
"Until Morpheus asked him to come aboard," Mongoose finished for her. "The Neb's got a lot more than just a basic incubator. And Dozer's an expert. This new guy - he'll be better taken care of out there than he would be here."
"God," Peg breathed. "Morpheus has been planning this for a long time, hasn't he?" Sorcha and Goose nodded together, but she wasn't finished. "The only thing I don't understand, is how he could be so sure that he would find the One, and not some other ship?"
Sorcha's eyes widened, and she felt her stomach drop into the bottoms of her feet. Then there really is no hope… "He couldn't be sure," she breathed aloud, "unless - unless the Oracle told him he would."
Trinity had a knack for opening doors silently on the Nebudchanezzar. She could sneak up on anyone, and often did, though never intentionally. Moving silently was natural to her, somehow. But Neo's door creaked as she pushed lightly on the rusted wheel, and she froze immediately, baring her teeth in a grimace. Had she woken him up?
No, no, there were no sounds within. He's probably dead to the world, she considered, quashing the momentary flare of disappointment that seared through her brain. Ten hours straight, plus Morpheus and the Jump… God.
That much on the first day was unthinkable. He had pushed himself hard, and Morpheus had pushed him even harder. Dammit, Neo, I warned you…
She finally shoved once more against the door with her shoulder, felt it swing silently inward. But still she paused. Why am I doing this?
He needs to eat. It'd be no good if he fainted during training tomorrow.
That's bullshit. You just want to see him.
She shook her head fiercely, so fiercely, in fact, that the bowl of goop on the tray she carried rattled slightly. This was a bad idea.
You're here now. Put down the tray and get the fuck out.
She padded more deeply into the room, letting her eyes adjust to the near-total darkness. The light that cascaded in through the open door illuminated his pale face as it lay relaxed in sleep near the edge of his cot. Relaxed. Had she ever seen him relaxed? He looked so… innocent. So profoundly innocent. Young and pale and delicate, like Galahad after his first knightly vigil, sleeping the deep sleep of exhaustion.
I want to protect you, she thought suddenly. I don't ever want you to see the fields, or the surface. Not ever. You couldn't bear them.
And then she realized what had just passed through her mind, and recoiled as though from an invisible wall.
Get out! Get out of there!
She set down the tray, her eyes still drawn invariably to his face, and felt herself pause in her act of straightening. She squinted as she peered intently at his lips, his nose, his shuttered eyes. Are you, Neo? Are you the One? You fascinate me. Is that love?
Get out, goddamn it!
She finally obeyed, and fled. But outside, Cypher was waiting.
During the weeks of Neo's reconstruction and training, Sorcha's schoolwork began to suffer. She was distracted and irritable - she found it hard to concentrate on anything. Desperately, she combed the logs for any clue she could find that would tell her whether Morpheus, and more importantly, Trinity, honestly believed that Neo was the One.
But she could find nothing. Morpheus was keeping his opinions to himself, and the results of Neo's initial training were not in the log. Was that unusual? She did not know. All she did know, was that the uncertainty was driving her slowly, inexorably, mad.
Pegasus hardly ever left her side anymore - she fretted and cajoled and sometimes even threatened, badering Sorcha about her work, making sure she ate at least a little at meals.
"I just need to know whether or not he's the One!" Sorcha would snap feverishly whenever Peg pushed too hard. "That's it. Once I know… everything will be all right. One way or the other…"
Pegasus didn't understand, but she also refused to leave Sorcha alone. Her solicitousness was partly out of guilt - hadn't she been the one to suggest accessing the Neb's logs? - but more than that, the younger girl had developed a depth of caring for Sorcha that could not be ignored. And so she continued on, helping Sorcha however she could, but all the while secretly wishing that her older classmate would stop looking into the distance for Trinity and see what was right in front of her nose.
Then came the day when the Neb was supposed to report, but didn't.
They had both been on dish duty, and the pots had been especially difficult to clean, so it was already getting late by the time Pegasus walked Sorcha back to her room. The younger girl lingered, simultaneously curious about and dreading any news from the Nebudchanezzar. But when Sorcha scrolled down to the bottom of the list, the most recent report was still from a little over two days ago.
She sat down hard. "Something's wrong," she choked out hoarsely. "It's been over fifty hours, and they haven't filed."
"What?" Pegasus asked, snapping to attention and striding across the room to peer at the monitor.
"We've got to tell someone!" Sorcha cried, jumping out of her chair and pacing back and forth across the small open space between her bed and her desk. "A ship - another ship needs to be sent out! Right away!"
Pegasus' brown eyes grew wide in alarm, and she planted herself directly in Sorcha's path. "We can't tell anyone!" she hissed, grabbing Sorcha's shoulders and looking frantically into her tense, unhappy face. "We shouldn't know any of this, remember? Besides-" she continued in a louder voice when Sorcha opened her mouth to protest, "if we know about it, that means that Zion Control is already aware of the problem. They may have even sent a ship out already."
Sorcha's shoulders slumped in her grasp. Peg bit her lip and propelled the older girl towards the bed. "Maybe they were just delayed for some reason," she said quietly, sitting down next to Sorcha and daring to rub her back lightly. "You should sleep - can you sleep?"
"I don't think so," Sorcha replied lowly. "Maybe… maybe I'll try to get some work done." But when she sat down at her desk, all she did was stare vacantly at the monitor, willing the Neb's report to appear. When the strain became too great, she jumped up and paced again, always turning her face eagerly towards the monitor, hoping against hope that some news would turn up.
My God, Trinity thought helplessly, feeling rage crash through her blood as she watched Switch collapse, inert and unseeing, to the floor. He'll kill us all!
"Don't hate me, Trinity. I'm just a messenger."
Too late, Cypher! she screamed silently at him. Goddamn you!
"And right now I'm going to prove it to you. If Morpheus was right, then there's no way I can pull this plug. I mean if Neo's the One, then there'd have to be some kind of a miracle to stop me. Right? I mean how can he be the One if he's dead?"
Trinity felt her head swivel slowly towards Neo. Neo - standing there, eyes full of confusion and a slow horror, looking as helpless as she felt, and as miserable. She could see Cypher - see him crouching beside Neo's head, looking down into his pale, taut face, smiling that secret, wicked little smile as he gloated.
No! This cannot be! He can't die! He can't because… because… oh God, God, it's happening…
"You never did answer me before. If you bought into Morpheus' bullshit -- come on -- all I want is a little yes or no. Look into his eyes, those big pretty eyes and tell me. Yes or no."
There was a knot, deep inside, and she felt it being pulled tighter and tighter, until she knew it would rupture, rupture inside her heart, her brain, rupture and explode and destroy her. This - it felt like how she had imagined dying would feel.
Neo's chocolate eyes filled her vision. The concern in them - concern for her, not for himself! - was a bullet grazing her ribs. It is true. It is. Oh Sorcha, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so very sorry…
"Yes," she whispered.
Pegasus refused to leave, that night. She finally fell asleep on Sorcha's bed to the sound of the girl's shuffling footsteps, and when she awoke a few hours later to the wall alarm, Sorcha was once again staring blankly at the screen.
Peg wanted to weep. What could she possibly do to ease her suffering? Should she tell Chi? Best to just get her to breakfast, first. If I can. But it was surprisingly easy to propel Sorcha away from her desk and into the hallway. She moved slowly through the halls, like a zombie. Pegasus wondered whether she had gone into some kind of shock, but her skin was warm and dry. Nevertheless, Peg kept hold of her hand the entire way to the mess. She didn't even see the curious stares they received from a few of the other students who they passed on the way.
Once they were seated at a table, she told Mongoose in a nearly inaudible whisper what had happened, and he glanced uneasily at Sorcha. "Maybe if she eats something?" he suggested. Pegasus shrugged, but broke apart a loaf of hlaf and handed Sorcha one piece.
"Can you eat a little of that?" she asked gently, feeling as though she were back in the Matrix, tending to her younger sister at mealtime in the highchair.
"I think so," Sorcha murmured, but her eyes remained tired and dull. "Thanks, Peg."
Sorcha raised the sweet, flat bread to her lips… and at that precise moment, all hell - or perhaps all heaven - broke loose in Zion.
Oh, no, was all Trinity could think as she saw watched the three code-bullets penetrate the chest of Neo's RSI, as she watched him slump to the ground in the Matrix, as she heard his vitals flatline in the real world. That abhorrent, steady hum cut through the sharp sounds of the squiddies piercing the hull of the Neb. No. God, no.
Morpheus stood staring at Neo's inert, breathless body, his mouth open in a round "O" of shock. "Can't be," he gasped.
Trinity could see nothing but Neo's face; her peripheral vision had disappeared. He looked like he had on the first night of his training, when she brought his evening meal to his room. She had found him sound asleep, his pale, angular face so innocent in repose. So innocent, now, in death.
No, she thought again. No, Neo, you are not dead. You can't be dead, because… because…
And finally, in that dreadful, prolonged moment, the deep reservoir of Trinity's spirit rose up in a cresting tidal wave - terrible and golden - that hurled itself against the hairline fracture Sorcha had opened in the cold, knotted shell around her heart. The wall of anger and fear and doubt crumbled into ash before that gleaming, burning flood… and Trinity felt it thunder into her blood, felt it fill her every cell until she herself was incandescent, glowing, no, burning with the power of her love for this man. For Neo.
The flood was boundless, depthless, deathless… and she knew, even as she stood transfixed by it, that it would consume her - ignite her into a living flame of human passion - if she did not somehow make herself into a conduit.
When she leaned towards him and opened her mouth, the confession burst from the golden light beneath her skin and flowed in an aerial river across the space between them. "Neo, I'm not afraid anymore. The Oracle told me that I would fall in love, and that that man, the man who I loved, would be the One. So you see, you can't be dead. You can't be, because I love you."
She finally touched him, then - cupped his white face with her trembling hands. And as she touched him, she felt the nameless flood surge from her hands into his skin, and it passed through him like a bolt of living lightning, reigniting his silent heart. "You hear me? I love you."
His monitors whirred back into life, but still she kept her hands on his face, letting the truth of her words sink deeply into him. It was only the harsh scream of metal on metal as a sentinel tore into the roof above them that drew her out of the glorious infinity that was her love for him, and back to the pressing demands of the present.
She felt his eyes open in the Matrix, and yet he remained motionless - overwhelmed, she knew, as she herself had been. But they were running out of time.
"Now," she cried, knowing he could hear her, knowing she was irrevocably a part of both his mind and body, "get up!"
Behind her, Tank's shaken, incredulous voice was barely audible over the unnatural shrieks of the squiddies' claws on the hull. "How?"
She did not answer - she could not speak. But Morpheus could.
"He is the One."
The Neb's distress call to Zion carried with it a digital recording of Neo's deletion of Agent Smith. The Councilors immediately had it broadcast on every screen in the city.
"The One has been found!" Councilor Hamann proclaimed over the loudspeakers. "Who needs further proof than this?"
Classes at the Academy were cancelled for the day, and the entire city poured into the streets to celebrate. Zion's walls echoed with drumbeats, as far, far above in the sinuous tunnels, the Logos began the laborious job of towing the Nebudchanezzar back to the city for repairs.
Sorcha tried to join in the festivities, but found herself unable surrender to the sweeping joy of the occasion. The news had not been wholly good, after all - Switch, Apoc, Dozer, and Mouse were dead, betrayed by Cypher.
Sorcha felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears. God, I'll miss you guys, she thought as she wandered slowly back to her room. Especially you, Switch. I miss you already. Goddamnit, Cypher… why?
She kicked off her boots and sat down on the bed with her back against the wall. The drums were still audible, even through two entire floors. Perhaps she would rejoin the party later… but for now, she needed to puzzle out her feelings.
Morpheus had found the One, after all. Which meant that she had lost Trinity. But… somehow the thought did not bother her as much as she had expected. I always knew she was destined for something truly great, Sorcha reflected. And if the One is to win this war, he will need her. Do I begrudge him her love?
She sat pondering this question for many minutes, slowly running it through her mind, trying to sieve out the bits of true, golden understanding. No, she concluded finally. No, I do not begrudge Neo the love of Trinity. It is right. Necessary. She felt her mouth curl slightly. Though I may very well be jealous when I see them together!
She would find out soon enough. As for now… maybe she would go join in the dancing. But before she could push herself off the bed, her door slammed open and Pegasus rushed in, breathless and smiling.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh you are here! I was just looking for you, I didn't know where you'd gone…" She trailed off, the smile dissolving into a frown, and moved towards the bed. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," Sorcha said softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Yes… I just needed to think for a while."
"But-" Pegasus bit her lip in confusion. "I thought you'd be happy! Neo is the One - we finally know - and… and Trinity will be coming back, soon." The last few words tumbled over each other, and Peg looked down as she spoke them, afraid that Sorcha would catch the hint of bitterness she had been unable to keep from her voice.
Sorcha sighed. It had to be said aloud, sooner or later. "Trinity and I," she began hesitantly, "that's… finished now."
Pegasus' head snapped up, and her eyes were wide. She quickly covered the remaining steps to Sorcha's bed and sat down at the older girl's feet. "What?" she asked softly. "How - why?"
Sorcha's green eyes flashed, and she subconsciously raised her chin higher. "She is the Consort of the One."
"What?" Peg cried. "But how do you know?"
Sorcha smiled proudly and sadly all at once. "It was foretold by the Oracle," she said simply.
"And Trinity told you," Peg whispered.
"Before anything happened between us, yes."
"Blue skies," came the awed whisper. And then, "How do you feel?"
Sorcha cocked her head slightly. "A little sad," she admitted. "But… proud, mostly. Proud, and happy for her. For both of them."
"God," Pegasus breathed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. But Peg came out of her reverie first; she shook her head, then stared at Sorcha determinedly.
"What?" the older girl asked, smiling slightly.
"I was just thinking," began Peg, "that if you and Trinity aren't, well, together anymore…" she trailed off, and Sorcha watched heat flood into her face, following the redness with her eyes as it flashed across her high cheekbones.
She really is quite pretty. Like one of Tolkien's elves. The thought came unbidden, but it was not disconcerting. In fact, it felt good.
"I was thinking that… that, well, I can finally do something I've wanted to do for a while now without fear of her… retaliation."
"What's that?" asked Sorcha, though she thought she might have a pretty good idea of the answer. Strangely enough, it didn't bother her.
"This," said Pegasus, and visibly gathering her courage, the younger girl leaned in to press her mouth firmly against Sorcha's. Sorcha moved her lips gently under Peg's like Trinity had taught her, and felt Pegasus eagerly respond in kind. It was a sweet kiss, sweet and soft and uncertain.
"That was nice," Sorcha breathed when she finally pulled away. Up close, she could see that Peg's eyes were really hazel - a deep brown flecked with tiny spots of green. Beautiful.
"Really?" Pegasus whispered back. "It's… okay?"
"Yes," Sorcha replied. "I still miss her," she went on, "but I… I also want this, with you."
"I do, too," Peg said softly, and her smile was brilliant. She leaned in again, but Sorcha put two fingers against her lips.
"It's going to take me a while to get used to all of this," she tried to explain. "I'll still need your patience, and you've already been so good to me…"
"Patience is a small price to pay," answered Pegasus. "Now, are you going to insist on continuing to talk, or will you let me kiss you again?"
Sorcha laughed, and gently closed the gap between them as her answer.
Chapter 8 >