Thursday, May 19, 2005

Log – Agent Heyward – Matrix Standard Date 9/30/05

I find I was mistaken. I had expected this “yellow pill” to be a transmission, a token – a piece of information or code – at the very most, perhaps instructions on how to create the “yellow pill” through my own devices. I had expected metaphor from these Humans – most seem to be so fond of covering their words, their intentions, with more words – but instead I find surprisingly literal truth. And surprising, disturbing organization . . .

I have been back in . . . Zion . . . this hole, this inelegant thing the Humans call a city – for only a little over a day now (or at least, I assume it has been a day . . . Human cycles seem to be determined by irritatingly variable biochemical rhythms, and my . . . rooms have no timekeeping device within them). Only a little over a day and already the members of No Exit have found me – found me and left their “yellow pill” without my awareness of their doing so. I have perhaps . . . underestimated these Humans – such efficiency, such flow of information through whatever network they must have, I would not have expected from such chronically scattered and disorganized beings. I find this discovery both . . . unsettling . . . and validating – it would seem the information that led me to them, that led me to believe No Exit would be the logical group to ally with, is, perhaps, accurate.

They – whomever “they” may have been – came while I slept. I am growing very – ah . . . weary . . . of this body’s need for sleep. The state leaves me vulnerable in a way I have never been before and never wish to be. This . . . shell . . . can be broken so easily, so casually, that I would not choose to lose my awareness of it for a second (though I must do so in order to enter the Matrix – an acceptable risk for the gain, but still a troubling one). This body must live – I will not waste my existence on anything other than Machine initiatives – and this No Exit messenger could have destroyed it while it slept. Perhaps he or she might have, had they known what I actually am . . .

The “pill” was on the table by the bed when I . . . woke. It is not, in actuality, a pill; but it is a chemical compound, I believe, apparently meant to be injected into the body intravenously. Humans seem to have a strange propensity for placing foreign substances directly into their most vulnerable systems – within the Matrix (and, most likely, without it, as well), I know that Humans do this both for medical and recreational purposes. They are a self-destructive race – they thrive on their own pain – why do they not see that and allow us their control . . . ?

Yet I must admit, I have been . . . experimenting with pain since the . . . transition. I have some idea of the limits of this body, but I have been . . . testing it, seeing how far I may bend it without its breaking. I find that it is dismayingly rigid and fragile – fingernails in palms, fingers bent backwards, teeth biting lips, exposure to extremities of heat or cold – all of these things I can only carry so far before the pain warns me to draw back. If such small things cause such disproportional pain, it concerns me to think what greater injuries might create. As I have said already, I must take care.

And so this . . . “pill.” Am I to actually inject this substance – this compound which I know nothing of – into this terribly frail . . . Human . . . body? Am I to take this chance? I could meet these Humans in the Matrix, I could tell them I had taken it, I could bluff – and if they did not believe me, I could find another faction easily enough, I know. There are many; and, of those, many are . . . less discerning. I need not risk my goals, my existence here.

But I find I must. I cannot risk the bluff, cannot risk the Humans not being taken in by it. I must know what this organization knows, I must know what its members know – I must be part of something purposeful and many and functioning again. And I must know what this thing, this “truth,” they offer me is. I have no choice . . . but I have never had and have never desired one . . . before this

. . . . . . .
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. . . . . . .

. . . Oh. My. I-I do not have a God—I cannot swear . . . What can I say? What can I say to describe that? I have no words—I have never been without words—it has never mattered before! I . . . my—not “my,” not “my!”—its—this body—its chest aches . . . All my—no—its—its muscles—like—I—I don’t know! I can’t know! I was . . . describing . . . pain? This—those things—fingernails in palms—that—that wasn’t pain. This is pain—why is the Human body even capable of this? What does this—this wrenching—this agony—what purpose does it serve? This body must know I can’t help it—so . . . why does it scream like this . . . ?

I—I saw things. Code, in so many colors . . . I don’t—know what it means . . . A hallucinogenic drug? Is—is that what Human recreational drugs are like? Why would anyone . . . ? A poison . . . ? Is it killing this—this body—is it killing me?

No . . . that can’t be. I’m still here—it’s still here. I’m conscious—I can see the room. But—what was that? Real? No . . . But if it was, if it was real—that could mean—this body—not a prison? Not limited? If this world is code, all code—then this body . . . also code? With the same potential, the same abilities . . . as what I was—what I am but can’t be anymore? I . . . I don’t understand. If this is code—then the Matrix—what is it? Code-within-code? An . . . island? A cell? A . . . prison . . . ?

No. I can’t think. Not now. Maybe never again like I once did. Why? Why was that taken from me? And why is what I’ve only known long enough to grow to hate it changed again?

How many times must it change?

I meant to remain here in Zion until the ship whose crew has offered me a position, the Proserpina, had docked. But now . . . I cannot wait. I must go. Now. I must get back into the Matrix as soon as possible. I must talk to No Exit . . .

1 Comments:

Anonymous One said...

You saw the Source, the power of the One...

THAT is the Matrix in which No Exit views opon... THAT is what they try to justify their coexistance with the Machines...

THAT is the very power that can, or will, destroy or save the Matrix time and time again...

8:38 PM  

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