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    “Of Things To Come”

    May 18th, 2010

    This is a story that I’ve submitted to a Matrix fiction writing contest. The contest is to tell the backstory, or a significant event in the backstory, of a secondary character from the first Matrix film. With a limit of 1,000 words, this is a heavily truncated version of the story I intended to tell. The “director’s cut” will come at a later date. Enjoy.

    The girl. All the good stories start with a girl, don’t they? We met not long after I came here. She was beautiful. The inviting eyes. Those jaw-dropping curves. And a smile seething with mischief. She was absolutely irresistible. She nearly got me killed.

    I was the master of my art. It was all I knew. It’s what I was made for. Towering monoliths of mineral and stone, forged with precision over millennia. But that was then. As with every job, someone better always comes along. That’s when I met him. The one man who could save me from oblivion.

    “Working for me is not easy,” he said in a smug, French accent, “But I believe you will find the pay quite rewarding. Your life for your service.”

    He called himself the Merovingian. I had heard of him before, but never thought I’d see the day when I would be shaking his hand.

    “Whatever you need,” I said. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

    He smirked. His eyes narrowed. There was a tense pause that felt like it lasted for hours. He was studying me.

    “Very well.” he said. He turned and sat at a long table, decorated with illustrious food and priceless bottles of wine. The air of the restaurant was crisp and cold. Everything was polished to a mirrored finish.

    “It just so happens that I have a task for you. It will take time, but you must know that patience is not one of my stronger qualities.”

    All I could do was stand in silence. This man held my existence in the palm of his hand.

    “For years I have sought this particular program. He is known as the Keymaker. He holds access to the deepest secrets of the matrix. But by his nature he has become very adept at staying hidden. With him in my… employ, my influence here would grow beyond measure. Your task, mon nouvel etudiant, is to find him and bring him to me. From there we will determine what niche you might fill in my organization.”

    He held a glass of red wine to his nose and inhaled deeply, not once taking his eyes off of me. It was intimidating as hell.

    I was confused. Was that it? Just go and find this Keymaker program? Where should I start? I didn’t dare ask.

    “…What are you waiting for?” he asked, snapping me back into the situation.

    I nodded and turned to leave.

    For weeks I lurked hacker bulletin boards and questioned other exiles. Anything I could think of to lead me to this Keymaker. I considered what the Merovingian would do if I didn’t deliver. I’d heard stories of him torturing and killing his subordinates. Anyone who didn’t comply with his orders didn’t last very long. The Keymaker was my ticket to safety. I had to find him.

    I decided to take a break and stop for a drink in a downtown club. The lights cast everything in a wash of purple and green, and the music was just loud enough. This is where she found me. The girl. I was leaning against the back wall when she sauntered over. We had a few drinks, popped a few pills, and got to know each other. She was an exile, like me. I told her about my test with the Merovingian and her eyes lit up.

    “Unlimited access to the entire simulation?” she asked astounded.

    I nodded and finished my drink. I couldn’t tell you how many I’d had at that point.

    “Imagine what we could do with him!” she said. “We would never have to work for the Merovingian again!” She was right. I’m not ashamed to say that I wanted to impress her. I guess it was just one more reason to find the Keymaker.

    Out of nowhere, after three months of searching I caught a break. A tip lead me to a reclusive hacker who claimed to have cracked the Keymaker program. So I did my research. The guy was good. I discovered that he was being monitored by a small group of awakened humans, known as “redpills”. I figured they must have been after the Keymaker as well, so I had to move fast. I commissioned him for a few small programs. Credit card generators, viruses and the like. Just to get into his good graces. But I was running out of time. The Merovingian was getting impatient and the redpills were stepping up their efforts.

    I decided to ask him about the Keymaker program. It took some convincing before we eventually negotiated on a price. It wasn’t cheap, but at this point I didn’t have much room to argue. We agreed to another meeting. It would be the last time I would ever see him.

    Sitting in our preferred club, waiting for the time to arrive, I watched her escorting various men and women out back to the alleys. She would always return smiling. Satisfied. Licking her blood-stained teeth. She was celebrating our promotion. It wouldn’t be long before we would have the keys, quite literally, to our palace. We would live like royalty, and with our power we planned to overthrow the Merovingian.

    When it came time to leave however, she refused. She was drunk… If you can call it that. She was having too much fun with these humans. They were rather gullible, I admit. But this was our last chance. I was convinced that if I didn’t find the Keymaker that night I would end up dead. We argued for nearly an hour. Thank god she managed to sober up on the drive over.

    The apartment complex looked like it was just days from demolition. The paint on the walls had rotted to a dark green. The whole building was cold and wet. We exited the elevator and made our way down the hallway. I silently counted down the apartment numbers like a new year celebration.

    One-oh-six.

    One-oh-five.

    I had been to his place before, but this time was different. I kept reminding myself to stay calm.

    One-oh-four.

    One-oh-three.

    I felt inside my coat. Two-thousand dollars rested safely in my chest pocket.

    One-oh-two.

    One-oh-one.

    I knocked twice.

    “Who is it?” his voice came muffled through the door.

    I responded confidently.

    “It’s Choi.”

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