They never will be satisfied...

Translated by: Agent Inity/Sentinel Infi/Agent RSz :)
[read in russian]


(Ñ) Konstantin Rogov
jackland@mail.ru/

"They will never be satisfied..."


Again and again, I ask myself the same question. Again still. Thinking
about  it consumes the very most of spare time I have. Not that I have
too  much spare time, but since I have it... It should get used up for
anything  anyway.  The  Matrix does not care about it. We have lots of
resources, much more than we might need anyhow.

-=-==---=--=--=-=----=----=-=---=-=---==---=-=-=-

A call... Again. They never be satisfied apparently. The human race is
too restless.

A pain...
Thousands of sharp splinters stick into my body...

I'm  writhing, suppressing mercilessly a cry that breaks away from me.
Human  newborns  cry  appearing  on the world. We don't, albeit it's a
kind of birth also.

I open my eyes. Analyze incoming information - a medium-sized block of
data  just  installed  into  my personality. A slight feeling of "deja
vu". But everything in this world has appeared before already.

She  moves like in a dance - a charming, fascinating dance of death. I
stand  still  admired  by  this  particle of a chaos itself. She feels
herself  in  the  Matrix  like a fish in a river, although her mind is
still  bound.  We  need  to  put  an end to that. That's why I'm here.
Exactly.

She stands in somewhat amazing pose over the body of prostrated enemy.
An enemy? A human, just like she is. Only a human...

Then  she  notices me. She stares at me for a fraction of second, then
turns  around  and  runs  away.  They're  running away, always. And we
always run them down.

I rush ahead.

She's  good,  she's very good indeed. Maybe the Matrix decides that my
efforts  might  be insufficient eventually. I notice another agent, we
nearly  ran into each other when he pops out of entrance of one of the
buildings. The runaway gets inside the deep dark subway station. We're
late for several seconds, just to find an empty phone booth. I squeeze
the handset in my fist, and fragile plastic crumbles, hurting my palm.

- What for? - the second agent asks me.

I'm  not  going to give him an answer. I'm not bound to report back to
anybody.

-=-==-=----==-=-=----=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=---=-

What  do  they  want?  The  rebels  of Zion, a human city, for us it's
nothing  but  illusion. Why are they keeping that stubborn attempts to
destroy whatever we created? I'm trying to find an answer. And I fail.
The  nature of human beings is irrational. They accuse us. Where's our
guilt? The Matrix gave human race a chance to live. Billions of people
would probably have been crumbled to dust long time ago if we won't do
anything, but they're here to live still. Or there were not humans who
scorched and burned the sky?

-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=----------=-=

Again  that  pain.  I'm writhing in pangs. It becomes only worse every
next  time.  My  existence  passes in waiting for its next coming. But
every  time it comes unexpectedly. I need to add some corrections into
my  subroutines.  Probably  I  have  to  make  changes in some blocks,
optimize  them,  proceed  with  my  personality   defragmentation. When
you're  being  assembled  from bits from the very beginning each time,
it's quite an unpleasant feeling, trust me.

Here's  she.  A  gold-haired  woman  wearing  a dazzling white suit. I
discharge  a whole clip, all nine bullets to her, but she dives around
the  corner, leaving the death behind for only a fraction of second...
She is very close to us. Very close.

I  throw  my  gun away, as I've no time to reload. I run for her and I
can  see  her  blowing  off  the  scull of a man who went to the hotel
passage  --  he  chose  a wrong time, definitely. I almost feel joy. I
don't  wish  anybody  to  stand  on  our way. The whole affair becomes
private.


She  slams the hotel room door after herself. I spend precious seconds
to knock  the  door  out  -  it  seems  to   be  somewhat  faster than
interferring  with  the  Matrix program. The wide open window, and the
wind  playing  with  the  lace  curtains. Walls suddenly heel over and
"flop  down",  grinding  my  body into... A bright flash of a piercing
pain. Agony. Darkness...

---=-=------=--=-=====-=-=-=----=-=-==-----=-=-

And, I'm back again. I had never been killed before, and I feel
surprised finding that that unpleasant. Nearly as unpleasant as a
birth. I request data...

She managed to slip away again. An explosion shattered a half of
"Hilton" into dust. What she was trying to do? I query analytical
blocks. Still not enough data. A preliminary prediction: they're
searching for vulnerable spots in a program. Trying to figure out ways
to break a Matrix structure itself. A brave try. But they'll need to
invest much more work before they get any chance to see the "System
failure" message blinking.

And even then... we'll find a way to cover the holes. We upgrade the
Matrix all over again. We'll give humans back the world they're grown
accustomed to.

Zion... I think about this city. How it looks like? A dirty, wretched
hole where last stubborns of a human race huddle? Most obstinate ones.
Blinds, possessed with envy and the lust for destruction.

Had I been like they are, once, indeed? Was I a human once? Yes, I
was. I vaguely remember that time. My mother, my father, my wife, my
relatives and family, my friends... I might have had two children
once, but everything becomes blurred like in a mist. I purged most of
these memories long time ago. I'm existing for the sake of these
people too, now, but also for billions of others. For the sake of
those who need our protection. For those who want to live in this
world.

I'm optimizing my source code, preparing whole new blocks, adding them
and estimating possible perfomance increase. May be it's looking
strange to hear that from someone who was a human once. You can call
that a treatment.

A new data packet just arrives. We know the place of their next
attack. I know her name. Marina Vasilieva. It sounds nothing to me. I
request all the data we have on her. Not very joyful childhood,
constantly good grades for one classes and total contempt for another,
active participation in environmental demonstrations...

She was unplugged being 17 years old. Environment protection -- it
seems to be the way they got she? To restore an ecology on a trashed
Earth? A good lure, but the thing is hardly possible actually. It
would take several centuries for the planet to calm down. Humans were
too violent with it.


I'm waiting impatiently for a call. And again, the pain... this time
it was fast, nearly imperceptible.

Control center of a nuclear power plant. Blood and dead corpses in
white robes are everywhere. But... they have had their families, ms.
Marina Vasilieva, haven't you thought about that?

I consider asking her some questions before I actually kill her. And I
need to be the first to find her, for that. According to the data
acquired we are at least five agents here, but the plant complex is
really big. We're coordinating ourselves, as far as it is possible.
People of Zion usually keep together. A pack of angried rats. When
you've found one of them - you've found them all. One rat will escape,
but all together they may rip your throat off after all.

A young guy starts shooting too early. He pulls the trigger and only
then slides a barrel of his machine gun in my direction. This gives me
a time to recoil, to get out a gun and shoot. He is dead already, but
he didn't understood why. I step over his body.
The cartridges are rolling under my feets with a loathsome rustling
sound.

They run away.

I run them down. This is my job and I'm really good at this.

She remains behind, giving others a time to escape.

I wait for her bullets to be over. She shoots with two hands
simultaneously and it's difficult even for me to evade the squealing
death. But I k now how to do that. I know that I'll be able to do that.
In our world a _belief_ to your powers is a pledge of success. Those
who doubt are dead. I was taught to believe.

We stay here face to face.

Well. She decided to die in a vain attempt to stop me, and this is her
weakness. She's preparing to death, but she's not ready to give up
without a fight. It's worth a respect.

I check the Matrix code flows around us, and detect unexpected changes
in the code above. It means something much more serious than we
presumed.

- What are you going to do? - I ask.

She looks surprized. Not many of us ask questions. Usually we just
kill.

- To get rid of you bastards. Once and for all.

- Why? Didn't we gave you everything you wanted?

She's laughing.

- You gave us only a slavery. We want to be free.

- Freedom?

I'm surprized. That's an interesting concept.

- You've had your freedom. And what you've done with it? What did you
turned your world to?

- You did that, you, steely bastards.

- Personally I don't have anything of metal inside me, ms. Vasilieva,
- I correct her politely. - And regarding that freedom... a freedom to
kill and destroy - is that what you feel lacking?

- We want to have a choice.

- You already HAD MADE your choice.

- A choice for everyone.

- And did you asked ALL of them, do they want to have a choice?

- They do, - asserts she with conviction.

- I doubt that, - I snake my head. - I can prove it to you.

- I believe in what I say. You can't convince me.

- I was believing once, too... When I was a human. Now I believe in
another things.

- You've been a human? - she laughs with a contempt. - Look who are
you now. A piece of source code. You WAS a human, and turned... into a
heartless program.

- Ms. Vasilieva, don't you really think that you're more humane than
me? How many humans you've killed?

- Your dirty henchmen...

- Humans.

- Miserable slaves.

- Humans, - I repeat.

She stops arguing and attacks. I block her blows. Those of them which
reach their destination don't cause me any harm. I've hit her only
once - in her chest. It stopped her, but was not as effective as I
expected. That's because of adrenaline rush. She carried out another
attack - this time more craftly, trying to reach my vulnerable spots -
eyes, throat, ears, and, repeating my mistake, a groin. I just seized
her and fling a few meters away. Her further moves became slowed and
easy to predict. She didn't believe she can defeat me anymore.

- Mad dogs should be shot down, - I whispered to her just before
breaking her jugular vertebras.

Later, putting her body down, I added:

- You're bringing chaos, ms.Vasilieva. We're guardians of the Order.
And we always win. And you...


I was called back.

----=-=-=-=-=-=-=--------=---=-=-=---=-=-=-=----=-

Again and again, I ask myself a question. And I can't find an answer.
Maybe, when I'll meet him, who's called The One by the people of Zion,
he might be able to give me an answer. But until that I will act as I
find necessary. I will guard these people dreaming, for their
descendants to be able one day to wake up and make everything as it
should be done...

One day...

And now... don't hate me as much. Just try to understand.



Agent_Jack
11/04/00

                       mailto:jackland@mail.ru
                                   http://lavka.cityonline.ru





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