II-12

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"There's got to be something we're not seeing," muttered Aleph.

"Sorry, guys." Shade shook his head, eyes still intent upon the bright cascade of symbols. "That's all there is to it, I'm telling you. I've looked, believe me. I've looked hard--with every trick in the book. There's nothing else on this disk."

"It's a good hack," commented Theo.

Aleph glanced over at him. The captain stood next to her behind the operator's chair, arms folded across his chest, brows furrowed as he watched the even green rain down the screen.

"He's not a hacker," she said. Theo turned his head and looked sharply at her.

"That was what the program said, wasn't it?"

Aleph shrugged, knowing what he was about to say: that an entity like the Merovingian was not possibly to be trusted, that it was naive to the extreme of her to take a program's words at face value as if they had anything to do with reality. That the whole thing was no more than an elaborate scheme on the enemy's part anyway. Maybe. None of which solved the question before them.

The three of them had been at it for hours already. Shade had barely managed to retrieve the Merovingian's disk out of Aleph's laptop that night, seconds before her car had slammed into a wall. A key to the Zion archives, that was what the mysterious French-accented program called it. Sure enough, after putting the disk under careful containment, code analysis revealed a security-breaking program of extraordinary complexity and power. It took layer after layers of ever deepening scans to tease out all the intricacies of the linked routines' inner workings, and there were several clever tricks neither Aleph nor Shade had ever encountered before.

"This would've busted through the strongest firewalls in the Matrix," breathed the operator, voice soft with reluctant admiration.

"And against us?" asked Theo, cutting straight to the point as always.

"Against us. Well, I guess it would be close." The young man hesitated. "Look here. And here--We've got mechanisms against attacks along similar lines, though far as I know we haven't been matched up against anything exactly like these, of course." He swiveled in his chair, peering up at the others. "Hey, you're the expert here, Aleph. What do you think?"

"I think..." Aleph replied slowly, recalling sleepless hours spent down in the dusty archive rooms. "It would have tested Zion's defenses to the limit."

"And...?"

"It would have been a nice try."

"Beautiful stuff, man. Figures, of course." Shade turned his attention back to the monitor, staring as if mesmerized. "But for Zion...They must've still underestimated us, I guess."

"Like they always do." Theo's tone was dispassionate.

"That's what bothers me about it," said Aleph. "It's brilliantly written code, I give you that. Sophisticated, creative. Powerful. But..." For a moment she wondered if she should speak up at all, or if the suspicions plaguing her were mere phantoms, products of the restlessness of her own mind. "It's not inconceivable."

"What's not inconceivable?"

"The way the hack works. The thing itself. I mean, we figured out what this is. How it does what it's trying to do. It's not inconceivable that--that a human could have written this. But the Merovingian..."

Not knowing how to explain, she let her voice trail off.

"Are you sure this Merovingian is really a program?" asked Theo.

"Definitely. It's true that he wasn't like the agents. What I mean is that he was pretending to be human, and he was much, much better than the agents at it, with his restaurant and all those luxurious things, his entourage and that 'wife' of his. It took me a while to see the truth. But as soon as that happened, it became completely obvious, as clearly as you can see an agent was a program. And when I called him on it, he didn't bother to deny it at all." Aleph frowned, trying to put her thoughts into words. "I know what you mean, Theo. Maybe he's underestimated Zion's defenses from arrogance, or scorn of humans. It wouldn't surprise me in a program; I've seen plenty of that from Smith. But I just don't know. Something doesn't add up here. Or maybe he's just crazy."

"But I thought you just said it's a program," Shade pointed out.

"Well, yeah," admitted Aleph. "I was only going on impression. Or what my impression would have been if he were human. But I have a feeling the Merovingian has to know the code on this disk won't get him into Zion and there's more to him than what we see. There's got to be some other trick. You have to be there, hear the way he was talking, see him manipulate the Matrix. He was doing things I've never seen before, things I didn't think was possible. It's--" She paused to look for the right description. "If Morpheus saw this guy he would probably think he's found the One he was always talking about or something."

The operator let out a small guffaw, and Theo rolled his eyes.

"But it could have been just programming," suggested Shade. "What you saw was all inside the Matrix. Who knows what kind of authorization it has from the machine Mainframe? Doesn't mean anything when it comes to breaking into Zion."

"But the Merovingian had no apparent purpose in the Matrix--"

"As far as you could see," said Theo.

"As far as I could see," admitted Aleph. "But that's what I don't understand. He's up to something else. I don't know what but this--" She waved a hand at the screen. "This isn't it. Just a gut instinct, I guess, but this is not what he's really trying to do, the Merovingian."

They watched the code descent in swift glimmering lines across the black background, and no one spoke for a while.

"Shade," said Aleph, "are you sure--absolutely sure--you've picked up everything on the disk? There has to be--"

"C'mon, Aleph," the young man murmured. "We've been over this, what, ten, twenty times?"

"I'm not doubting you or anything." She held up a conciliatory hand. "I know how thorough you always are, Shade, but--"

"Seriously, then, yes," replied Shade, looking straight up into her eyes. "This is the whole disk. Nothing else."

"Okay. Maybe. Nevertheless--"

"You've been spending a lot of time in the Matrix, Aleph," Theo cut in, changing the subject. "Don't you think it's time you get some rest?"

"Thanks, Theo, but I'm all right." Aleph shook her head, not noticing the way the two men were staring at her. "Can't sleep anyway. The Merovingian must be up to something else. I'm certain of it. I'll look into it a bit more..."

Hours later, Theo found Aleph inside the training program where the two of them always talked alone after her meetings with Agent Smith. She was sitting cross-legged against the wall, squinting down at a virtual laptop lying open on the polished wooden floor before her.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"I've been thinking," said Aleph. Returning her eyes to the screen, she listened to Theo's footsteps echoing against the floor as he strode across the room to stand before her.

"And what have you found?"

"Well," she mumbled, almost to herself. "Maybe it's not the right approach to look at this only from the outside. I thought I'd try a different way."

"And what have you found?" She was too used to the way he spoke now, the words measured and even, pointedly patient.

She did not reply. After a moment, Theo bent down and turned the laptop so that the screen was visible to him. Aleph sat back against the wall, blinking; it took a second for her eyes to focus on his face.

"You are not going to see anything more here in a simulation than out in the real world, Aleph," he said, "because we've already figured out all its tricks. There is nothing more on this disk."

"I don't know, Theo," she said, voice hoarse with sleeplessness. "You haven't met the Merovingian. The things he said, I kept thinking about them...We need to look at it from their point of view, think as they do..."

"It does seem to me you've been thinking as they do more and more frequently these days."

Aleph's shoulders tensed, but she did not say anything. Another round of the same old argument coming, she thought. Raising one hand, she began to slowly rub the back of her neck, massaging out a knot in the muscles.

"I don't know what you've seen in there, what they said to you--only what you've told us," began Theo, peering unblinkingly into her face. "But I know what the machines are like, Aleph. I'd say we know a hell lot more about them than they know about us, in fact. They can manipulate the Matrix because that's what they are--programs. But they don't understand us and they never will, so they come up with something like this." He gestured down toward the computer at his feet. "And they expect it will be enough against our defenses. They have no idea about us. It's their nature."

His eyes were hard and glittering bright, so much that she had to look briefly away. The faked sunlight from the windows was like pale rain across the swirling grains of the wooden floor. On the laptop, the code fell and kept falling, silent flawless emeralds.

"Maybe you're right," she admitted, trying to be conciliatory. "Still. It can't be so simple as that. I can feel it. I need to get to the bottom of why the Merovingian wanted to get into the Zion mainframe in the first place--"

"Why are you asking such a question at all?" Theo was openly incredulous now, she could tell. "The Merovingian is a machine. It may appear different, it may be good at imitating humans, but I don't need to tell you not to be taken in by illusions. It is one of them, a manifestation of the Mainframe's control. And we all know they have been trying to break into Zion since--well, ever since we've been around. But they haven't succeeded yet."

"Theo, I don't think--"

"You wanted to see this from their point of view? Fine. From their point of view: you come along, apparently willing to betray humanity, but after all this time, you are still holding back where the Zion mainframe is concerned--the one thing they wanted the most. Or maybe you don't have all the information you claimed to possess. You are still valuable, so they don't drag you into interrogation and harm you--for the moment. But they try another tack where the agent hasn't succeeded, send another program, one that can talk more extravagantly and spin a better tale. But does it matter why one program or another is trying to hack past our security, in the end?"

Carefully, Aleph put a hand down on the floor and pushed herself up to her feet. Her legs were numb and she leaned with her back to the wall, facing him.

"A program--or programs--have already hacked past our security," she said. "That was what started this whole mission, if you recall. At the beginning I thought Agent Smith was the one mostly closely involved in the breach. But now it appears that the Merovingian is a much more dangerous and strange program, doesn't it? And I'm not so sure he and the agents are exactly on the same side. They didn't have to go through all this charade."

Theo opened his mouth, about to reply, but she went on before he had a chance.

"If that is true, if such internal divisions among the machines exist, it would be absolutely invaluable to us. Smith was definitely angry to learn of my meetings with him, and he's been telling me to report to him of any further encounters with the Merovingian. I believe this is an opening. I can find out more about each side from the other, play them off against each other. Now Smith told me he was forbidden from harming me--"

"Damn it, Aleph!"

She started, cut off in the middle of a sentence. The eyes of the man before her was suddenly blazing, drilling into her as hard as blades.

"There were some things I didn't want to say in front of Shade." His tone was low, but there was an edge to it. "I doubt whether you know what you are doing with this mission any longer, Aleph. You haven't made any progress and now listen to yourself. Playing them off against each other? The agent, angry yet not going to harm you? Are you telling me you actually believe what it says?"

"That was just the orders he received from the Mainframe. I admit I don't know why exactly but they must have--"

"You've been spending a hell lot of time in the Matrix recently. It's getting harder and harder to cover your tracks in front of the rest of the crew. And it's getting to be all you talk about. How Agent Smith was annoyed or angry you didn't give it what you promised. How Agent Smith was behaving anomalously. How Agent Smith was arrogant and contemptuous of humans. How Agent Smith said things were pointless, as if it didn't care anymore. The words you used: annoyed, arrogant, contemptuous. Care. In describing an agent. Think about what you're saying for once, Aleph. You're obsessed!"

"Gods, that's ridiculous, Theo." Aleph put a hand up to her forehead, grimacing. "I can't believe you're jea--"

With a wrench, she pulled herself short and swallowed the second half of the word. For an endless heartbeat, neither of them said anything.

"I am what?" asked Theo.

"Never mind. Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"No, I would like to know. I am what?"

Aleph drew in a sharp breath, but managed to keep herself from snapping back at him. It was all too much like the old days, this kind of scene with him.

"Look, Theo," she said slowly. "We've talked about this so many times already. There's a lot we never knew about the machines. But now it's--it's as if something is happening to the Matrix before my very eyes. Like deep waters opening up at my feet. There's so much more going on we had no clue about: deceptions, divisions, individuality. It's important, don't you see?"

"No. All I see is something happening to you. Maybe you've become so embroiled in all this that you don't even notice it yourself, but I do. You've begun to talk about that agent as if it is different from the other agents. You've begun to act as if this other program, the Merovingian, has some personal interest of its own distinct from that of the Mainframe. You've--you've begun to speak of them as if they are individuals one could talk to or reason with. That's an illusion. There's a war on and they're the enemy, remember? And the illusions, they're the whole point of the war, remember? To fight against the lies the machines have perpetrated upon humanity." His voice was rising at last, tense as the blade of a knife. "Think about this, Aleph. Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Whose side?"

"Yes. Answer me this question, because I'm not so sure anymore."

"Oh, yeah?" Control finally deserted her at the way he spoke. "Was that why you wanted to pull the plug on me the time when my car plowed into a wall?"

The silence ran deafening between them. It was not quite what she meant to say, but she was sick of it by now, the perpetual need to be thoughtful, calm, persuasive. Suddenly it felt all wrong, the room around them, the eternal sunlight artfully filtered through the windows, the laptop with its green code raining down the screen. Suddenly everything felt exactly as fake as it was. It was wrong to stand there listening carefully for each word and turn of intonation, watching him, making sure she herself was not being watched, as if she was talking to Smith or the Merovingian.

"That was over and done with," said Theo at last. "I didn't expect you to find out."

"Shade told me."

"Well, he shouldn't have."

"Oh, that's brilliant." Aleph threw up her hands. She was going down the inevitable old path where he was concerned, but it couldn't be helped. It never could be helped. "You were about to have me killed and afterwards you can't even--"

"You got yourself captured by agents!"

"I had the situation under control."

"You knew the risks. You'd better know the risks if you're going to be on this ship. This is a war and believe it or not sometimes there has to be sacrifices--"

"Don't you dare," hissed Aleph, taking a step toward him. "Don't you dare pull your sanctimony on me. I learned all about war and sacrifices the first day I saw this fucking real world. You, of all people--"

It was a hit below the belt, and she regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. Theo, however, was too carried away by his own anger to notice.

"Get over yourself, Aleph! That wasn't your sister. That was an agent pointing a gun at your head! Frankly if I didn't pull the trigger back then I wouldn't have to worry about any of your bullshit now--"

He did not finish the sentence. Turning aside, he glared past her and away at the windows, as if there was really something out there beyond the milky translucence of the glass. Another resounding silence followed.

"Forget it, forget I ever bought it up." She tried to cool it, though without much success. "You can go on about sacrifices all you want but it wasn't necessary. In this case, anyway. I got captured, so what? I got out of there alive in the end, didn't I?"

"And I didn't pull the plug on you in the end, did I?"

"So I'm supposed to be grateful to you for that now? For not killing me?" What she was saying made no sense whatsoever, but she no longer cared. "Wasn't it your duty, Captain? Cut your losses, keep the ship safe? So why the hell didn't you do it?"

"Because I couldn't! I couldn't bring myself to watch you die, okay? Do you get that?"

The genuine pain in his voice made her shut up. She closed her eyes for a second, collecting her thoughts. When she opened them again, he was still standing there with all those hard questions in his face.

"You could have had a little more faith in me," she muttered.

"Oh, I've always had a great deal of faith in you." Theo forced the words out through gritted teeth. "All these years, all the dangers we've been through together. And in this mission of yours. I've been supporting you all the way, haven't I? I've laid my own life on the line for your bloody mission. Don't you forget that, Aleph. But I simply don't know if my faith is justified anymore, these days. That's all."

Aleph could reply nothing that would be of use, so she didn't. Instead she sat down on the floor, tugging at the computer to study the Merovingian's hacking program again, which had been running all this time, smooth and liquid in forgotten silence. Without looking up, she felt the other's glowering gaze upon her head, then after a while she heard him walking away to the other end of the room. But just as he was about to unplug himself, Aleph lifted her head.

"Theo," she said.

He stopped in the middle of a step, turning to face her once more.

"Look, Theo...I've been under a lot of pressure lately."

"Is that supposed to be an apology?"

She couldn't quite make herself say yes, and they stared at each across the empty room. But then Theo said, in a surprisingly gentle voice:

"Give up this mission, Aleph. I remember once, before all this, you said you were getting burned out, that you were tired of fighting. Say the word and I'll turn the ship, take you back to Zion. There's no shame in that."

"Are you ordering me away, Captain?"

"As I have been reminded many times, this is your mission and I have no power to order you away from it. So no. I'm asking you instead. Please."

"I need to do this," said Aleph.

She returned her attention to the laptop, and deliberately kept it there as Theo exited the training program without a word. On the screen, the luminous river of code paused as the routines came to a finish, then resumed its flow once more, looped to the beginning, as seductive as the Merovingian's mysterious words. Nevertheless, it was a long time before her mind was able to focus upon it again.