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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:06:07 GMT -5
[The story is set five years after the events as seen in The Matrix Revolutions.]
-=The green stands of coding we are all too familiar with begin to fall down over a sea of blackness. Characters and runes drop down into place amidst the trickling coding. They spell out "THE MATRIX". We move forward into the coding, past these words. Another is word is spelled out. It says "IMMORTAL". Moving forward once more we go in through the "O" of "IMMORTAL". Coding swirls around like a cyclinder while more coding falls before us outside of the cyllindrical inside of the "O". When we come out of the "O", our view seems tip down, and we see where the coding is being drawn to; A bright white light with a green hue: It is the Source. We suddenly move fast towards the light of the Source. We enter to a white flash, and then, the orange light coding of the Machines bursts about, swirling out in all directions, forming a bright glowing underwater-esque city, surrounding a temple..All of sudden, the orange forms an ever expanding city. As the city grows, across the plane of black, the green coding of the Matrix advances toward the expanding city. As they are about to collide, an explosion of light occurs. A white stand of coding, in its bright glory, rushes down between the two oncoming masses of green and orange. As it moves forward at a great speed, the groups of green and orange code part as if Moses had just parted the sea. The white strand of coding reaches the light of the source, and the light suddenly departs, leaving us with only the blackness of the plane. Our story begins..=-
Prolouge ----
New York City 12-5-03 9:14PM
It was cold that night. Very cold, as a matter of fact. No one could remember the last time the weather was this bad. The snow fell from the sky like small pieces of glass, hitting people in the face with a cutting sensation that made them turn away if they made the mistake of looking into the opposing direction of the snow fall. One would say it was Hail but it wasn't heavy enough. It was just the collaboration of snow, and really harsh winds. They crashed into the windshield of the black sedan driving down the dark icy street. The driver, a man in his late 20's, 29 to be specific, ignored them as the windshield wipers pushed them off to the side like someone making lines of cocaine with a razor-blade. Funny I should think that the man thought to himself with a chuckle and a smirk, as he looked down at his Detective badge that was attached to the chain he wore. It read, "Detective" and underneath that, "Narcotics Unit". "Oh well", he said to himself in an assuring tone. "I guess I could say my mind is always on the job, technically". He laughed. He was such a bull**** artist at times, and he knew it. He did it on purpose to get out from being between a rock and a tight space. Most of the time worked. Sometimes though, it backfired. Like when he had to explain to his girlfriend why he came home late the night he promised he'd be home for dinner that night and to go to bed with her at the same time, rather than coming in and sneaking into the bed after she'd already been asleep. She was still peeved at him for that. He thought of what had been said during that argument, while his eyes were fixed on the road ahead of him.
"Paul, what is the matter with you, you promised me you'd be home by 9:30!"
"I know Cheryl, I got caught up with work I couldn't help it!"
"You told me that no matter what that even if it meant you would have extra work to do that you would put work on the side and come home to see me!"
"Yeah I know but--rrgh, Howard wouldn't let me off the hook he said if I left he'd suspend my pay for a month!"
"Oh bull**** you know he wouldn't have done that, you always say how he tells you you're one of his best cops!"
That was only half of it. Usually Paul would be hearing that when it was attatched to the bad end of a complaint from Captain Howard, the head of Paul's precinct. Something always along the lines of "You're a good cop Paul, but you get into so much shit that I don't know what to do with you, y-you're driving me up a [f'n] wall, listen to me I'm studdering over here!" Always about his spontaneous way of doing things. He got a reputation in the precinct for that. The officers would say "Eustace? That guy's a loose cannon, I don't know how the Captain puts up with him." Or the other Detectives would say "Paul's chaotic, he'll shoot first and ask questions later." It all made him smile. But Paul couldn't blame Howard on his tardiness from home. He let him get away with too much stuff, any other Captain would have either suspended him and assigned him to a desk job or have him thrown off the force all together. It's Irvine's fault, he told himself. Irvine. The name had been his best friend for the past year. A search warrant was out for this guy, and he was one the more sought after convicts on the "Wall of the Wanted" back at the precinct. He was a suspected murderer, kidnapper, drug dealer, and hacker. This Irvine character was Paul's case, and he'd had no leads on the guy, just searches around the city that turned up with nothing. His mind went blank. Cheryl's voice came back into his head, like a reminder to come out of thinking of work. It was like purgatory was following him around, making sure he got more pissed off at Irvine for the stupid reasons that caused him and Cheryl to fight all the time.
"You're always late! If you're late one more time after you make a promise like this, I swear Paul, I'm getting out of here!"
"Babe come on, what am I supposed to do?"
"Straighten out your priorities and get your shit together! Wake up already and get with the program."
The words echoed in his head as if he woken up from a nightmare. Who was to say he wasn't in one now? He chuckled and shook his head. What the hell am I thinking? He looked at the clock on his console, the time read 9:14PM. He checked his watch to make sure he wasn't seeing things, and it said the same. I finished early tonight? he asked himself. He couldn't remember leaving his office so early, but he shrugged. Whatever he figured. His apartment was around the corner and that meant he'd made it home early. He stopped at the red light, and looked to make sure no other cars were coming down the intersecting street. When he nodded to himself after seeing no cars coming either way, he made the right turn, and drove down the street until he came up to his apartment building. Parking the car alongside the sidewalk, he shut off the cars ignition and hesitated in getting out of the car. He looked up at the window of his apartment and stared. I can't believe I'm home this early. I could have sworn it was eleven... he said to himself in his thoughts. He stayed there looking up at the window, as if there was some outside factor wanting to stop him from getting to his home early, and stay in the car for another two hours. Blinking, he shook his head and got out of the car, gently shutting the door. The night suddenly seemed calm, despite the snow and the wind. His black leather blazer, over his black t-shirt, kept him warm enough to survive the 15 feet walk from the car to the door of the building. He looked down the dark street as he made it to the door, and saw nothing but black when he looked yonder. Dark future down the road, he jokingly suggested to himself. He pushed the door open, and stamped his feet to get the snow off of his black jeans and black combat boots he wore underneath. His eyes scanned over the mailboxes on the wall, looking for his own mailbox. When his eyes fell upon the name "Paul Eustace", he stopped, and moved forward with his key. He shook his head. I've lived here for almost a year now and I can't remember where my mailbox is. He inserted his key, and after turning it, he slowly opened it a tad and peeked inside. Ever since he saw that Clint Eastwood movie where the black guy opened his mailbox and the bomb exploded, he was always afraid of nonchalantly opening his mailbox. However, like always since then, he saw nothing out of the ordinary in there. Actually, this time he saw nothing in there. No mail, he thought. Maybe Cheryl got it. Closing the tiny door and locking it, he turned and made his way over to the elevator. Running his eyes over the buttons, he pushed the 6 button after the door closed, and waited for that sudden jolt that took place when an elevator first started to move. When it occured, it rocked him a bit as he stood in his place. He reached under his blazer and grasped his gun, a Desert Eagle version 2.0, chambered for .44 calibur. He looked at it for a few seconds before making sure the safety on the slide was secured. After he was sure that the safety was activated, he slid it back into it's holster, and then he felt that jolt of the elevator again. The next thing he heard was "ding", and the doors opened. Running his hand through his hair, he stepped out onto thin carpet that covered the floor of the hallway. Cracking his knuckles like he usually did as he walked to his door after getting home from work for the night, he counted the cracks as they went off. 1, 2, 3, 4...5, 6, 7, 8..9, 10 he counted. He stopped in front of his door, the number read 110 over the peephole, then got a hold of the doorknob and twisted it. To his surprise, it was open. He pushed it open and stepped in, immediately looking around the apartment. No one in the kitchen, which was a few feet in front of him. Then he noticed the TV on in the living room right in the next room. He peered around the wall and looked to the couches, and his eyes automatically locked with Cheryl's. She looks surprised. he registered to himself before thinking anything else. In reality, she was.
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:06:19 GMT -5
"You..you're home." She said in a gentle tone, with a touch of disbelief. It was as if she was whispering because it was too good to be true, and if that was the case, she didn't want to disturb this vision of Paul that stood before her, or else it might disappear. "Yeah, I'm home," he answered, to her surprise. She didn't know what to ask or what to say. So, to improvise, she got up from her seat on the couch and walked over to him. She was dressed in dark grey sweat pants and a random t-shirt, with white socks on her feet. She was shorter than him, but not too short, a 5'3 to his 6'0. She stood not even a foot away from him, and before he could react, she went up on her tippy-toes and gave him the tightest hug she could. It startled him for a moment, he wasn't expecting it. After a few seconds, he let the fact seep in, and rested his head on hers, which she had pushed tightly into his chest. He blinked, breathing in through his nose and taking in the scent of her hair, the scent of peaches. He exhaled slowly and kissed her head, preparing to let go so he could get off his jacket, holster, and boots, so he could sit with her on the couch and relax, but instead she pulled him into a kiss. The sudden pull on him and the last sight of her head coming closer to him caused him to close his eyes tight, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck for better leverage, he relaxed and let them stay closed comfortably. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, he thought to himself, I honestly didn't expect this kind of reaction from her. Maybe I was underestimating her. Maybe I underestimate myself. When she let off of him, she looked at him in the eyes with a warm, caring look.
"Welcome home," she told him with a smile. He smiled back.
"Good to be home." ----
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:07:26 GMT -5
Chapter 1: Life's too short ----
NYPD 12-6-03 5:30PM
Paul sat at his desk in his office. His elbow rested on the desk top as he stared at the blank screen on his monitor. The sign-in box was on the screen. The cursor blinked every second. His eyes glanced around. He looked at the walls, with the melancholy design and the dark brown stain finish, and large windows through which he could see a good amount of the rest of the floor he worked on. The wall all the way to his left was also the wall of the office to his left, same with the wall and the office in front of him, the wall his door was on. He had to walk through the other Detective's office in order to get to his. There were a few files cabinets behind him, and since he had a corner office, a window behind him. There was a space heater under this window in absence of a radiator. It was like that in a bunch of the offices around him. Someone went around and turned all of them on to low. The storm from last night was still there now in the morning. Wind and sharp snow flakes in everyone's face. To his left was another large file cabinet. On his desk was a phone, a calendar, a printer in the corner on the right side of the computer console, and a picture of Cheryl. He looked around his office again and took all of this in. This isn't an office, he thought. It's a glorified cubicle. Shaking his head, he looked out of the windows to his left and saw Howard's office. Paul made a face to himself, and watched as Howard sat there talking on the phone to someone. I better at least look like I'm doing something, Paul decided, before I get bitched at because I'm getting payed for doing nothing. He looked back at his monitor at the blinking cursor. He typed his name into the first space, and "Paul Eustace" came onto the screen. He pressed tab and then it came to his password. He thought of it before typing it in, and chuckled to himself wen he remembered its origins. "Jarvas" was what he typed. The name Jarvas was from his childhood, Paul's friend Joe suddenly started calling a video game character that one day while Paul was playing and it just stuck with him. It became his self appointed alias on every website he had to register to, every video game he had ever played, and it just popped into his head when it came to creating a password for his access to the department's network and files. The name & password check completed with a beep and the search interface came up onto the screen, with several fields and options for specifying whatever it was someone may be searching for, and an area for search results. He paused, staring at a blank screen again. He knew that typing in "Irvine" would do him no good. He'd done it time and again and came up with nothing useful as to where to find the guy. He had no previous record, no location, no place of residence, no relatives, no name changes. The guy just popped up out of thin air it seemed, and it made Paul angry, how this guy could just slip in and out of his jurisdiction. He sat back in his chair and put his legs up on his desk and his hands on his head, staring at the screen, the blank search fields and that blinking cursor again. A fly landed on him, and he brushed it off of him. Another black pair of jeans, and the same pair of boots, but this time, a blue t-shirt. His gun hung from its holster under his blazer. I don't know where to start or where this stops. I forgot where it began, and I could only imagine where it'll end. But in the mean time, what the fuck am I going to do just sitting here looking for a ghost? He leaned forward and put his face into his hands as if he were crying and slowly slid them down his face and into a sort of praying position, and rested his head of them. Then he repositioned his left hand and rested his head on it, his elbow on top of the desk in tfront of the keyboard. His right hand was on the desk, the other elbow resting on his right thigh, and he tapped his fingers and sighed. Out of the corner of his left eye he saw Detective Stanford coming into his office. He was about Paul's height, maybe an inch or two taller, and with broader shoulders. He was in his mid 30s and in his combed back brown hair, grey hairs were obvious. He had a serious look in his eyes most of the time, but that was only when he meant business, when he was working. Uusally he was a friendly guy though, and now it looked to Paul as if he had something interesting to say.
"Hey, Eustace."
Paul stopped tapping his fingers and put his left elbow on his left thigh, and clasped his hands together under the desk. "What's up, Stanford?"
"You heard about the party, right?"
He arched a brow. "No..what party?"
"Carrington's getting promoted, we're throwing him a surprise party and the ceremony is this weekend."
"Really? What's he moving up to?"
"He got onto S.W.A.T."
"That's a promotion?" Paul said as if to ask what put the S.W.A.T. team over the Narcotics Unit.
"Well, yeah. Figure, our Narcotics Unit is a tactical unit of its own, we're not just regular Detectives, we do that and our own kind of S.W.A.T. work. So now he's moving from being a regular Narcotics Detective to getting to see a little excitement."
Paul shrugged. "I guess you got a point. Is there time for the whole unit to just take time off and throw a surprise party?"
"We're not the only Tactical Narcotics Unit here, or did you forget that part?"
Paul pointed his finger at him. "Hey, don't get smart with me!" he said in a joking tone, the both of them smiling at the sarcastic humor and reaction. "So when is this party anyway?"
"Well, figure, it's about 5:45PM now, I think we're all going down to the party room by 9:00PM, fancy food'll be catered and ready and everything, music and all, the whole nine yards."
Paul nodded. Suddenly, Stanford looked as though he remembered something.
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, no, I was just gonna say, I almost forgot, everyone in our unit is invited and their partners are welcome, so if you wanna surprise your girl you can suddenly take her out to dinner, and it's free!" Standford said with a chuckle.
A smile came over Paul's face. "Yeah, she'd like that. I think I owe her a few surprises," he said with a nod. He looked around for a clock. "What time do we get off if this party is at nine?"
"I think your shift ends in fifteen minutes. You've been doing paperwork all day since like six, right?"
"Yeah it sucks."
"Go ask Howard, he's not really busy, he told me to go remind everyone about the party tonight, you were the last guy left." Stanford suggested.
"Alright," Paul said as he logged out of his computer, turned it off, and got up out of his chair. He extended his hand and Stanford took it and shook his hand with a nod. "I'll see you tonight at the party," said Paul, to which Stanford replied "Alright then I'll see you tonight." He then left Paul's office to move onto whatever else he had to do. Paul rubbed his forehead. "Party tonight," he thought to himself. "I play my cards right I might get lucky." He walked out of his office and made his way over to Captain Howard's office. He knocked on the door, and was imemdiately greeted with a "Come in!" He opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind him, looking out through the windows to see if Carrington was around.
"What is it Paul, what, what're you doing?"
"Ssh, calm down boss I was making sure Carrington wasn't around."
"Oh, Carrington? I guess Stanford told you about tonight."
"Yeah, I wanted to know when my shift ended for today, I forgot."
Howard checked his watch. It read 5:50. "It's ten to, you're done at six, get outta here you can go home now" he said all in one breath. Paul shrugged. "Alright then, I'll see you tonight then." Howard nodded. "Okay."
"Later boss." Paul said on the way out.
"So long." Howard called after him.
Paul made his way downstairs to his car and drove home. ----
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:08:04 GMT -5
6:10PM
Paul walked into the apartment and threw his jacket and holster onto the couch. Cheryl heard the door slam shut, and she poked her head out of her room cautiously. Seeing Paul startled her, and his greeting made her jump. "Hey, honey what's up?" he said in high volume. "Paul, what're you doing here?" she asked, surprised. "I'm home, and tonight we're going to a fancy dinner" he said as he made his way closer to her. "Fancy dinner what do you mean?" she said. He came over and held her in his arms and gave her a kiss. More surprises. He went into the bedroom and sat on the bed and began unlacing his boots. "One of the guys at work is getting promoted and my unit's throwing him a surprise party. Nice party, and good food, and it's all free."
"Oh.." she answered, a bit blindsided by the fact he was home so soon, and because now he was taking her out tonight, sort of. "What time do we have to be there by?"
"Nine o'clock. You got something nice to wear?"
"Uh, yeah, do you?"
"I'm sure I'll find something."
"What about your dress uniform?"
"No, no, that I have to wear for the official ceremony this weekend."
"Can I go to that too?"
Paul stopped. He looked up at her, and saw the hopeful look in her eyes. She really wanted to be with him, he realized. He extended his arms, his left out a little further than his right, and motioned for her to come to him. She came over and sat next to him and leaned up against him, and he put her arms around her. "Of course you can come with me to that ceremony," he said to her, his eyes locked onto hers. "Are you okay?" he asked her. "Yeah, I'm fine, just.." she began. "Yeah, what is it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I miss you. Work's been taking up a lot of your time lately and sometimes I really hate when I can't see you." He kissed her forehead and ran his hand through her hair. "Here I am. For the whole night." She looked up to him and smiled and wrapped her arms around him. He layed back on the bed and took her with him. "I'm tired," he said. "I'm comfy," she answered. He closed his eyes. "Lemme know when eight o'clock rolls around, we'll get dressed then." he told her. "Why?" she asked. "Because staying here like this for a while would be nice." he answered. All she said was "Mhmm." They dozed off in each other's arms. When 8:00 came around, Paul woke up to Cheryl shaking him gently, saying to him "Come on Paul, time to get ready." He rose up out of the bed and stretched his arms out with a relaxing sigh. He looked around, first to Cheryl, then the closet. Okay....what to wear...got my pants on...got a shirt in the closet..got my jacket..a little cologne, good to go. He walked over to to dresser and opened a drawer, and pulled out a white tank-top undershirt. After this, he simply removed his blue t-shirt, to reveal his in-shape but not jacked up upper body, and put the tank top on, but kept his jeans unbuttoned. Cheryl started getting changed into what is mostly called "The Little Black Dress", or at least a variant of it. Paul reached into the closet and pulled out a short sleeved black button-up shirt, and began buttoning it. "Do you always dress in black?" Cheryl asked him. "Yup. Works with everything," he answered. When he was finished, all of the buttons were fastened, sans the top two. He pulled up his pants around the shirt and closed them up, turning to his hutch to go for his cologne. "There, almost done. All I gotta do is put some of this stuff on," he started, as he opened the small bottle of Pierre Cardin and poured some into his right hand palm. He set the bottle down, rubbed his hands together, and then wiped the colonge on either side of his neck and on his chest until his hands were dry. He turned to Cheryl, who at this point was in her dress, panty hoes, and shoes. He had a double take. "What?" she asked with a smile coming out on her face. He smiled back and shook his head. "Come on we gotta stop fuckin around we gotta go soon," he said to her in a joking voice. "Alright you ass, I gotta fix up my hair and do my makeup," she retaliated. He sighed and waited. This is gonna take a while. ----
9:09PM NYPD Party Room
When Paul and Cheryl walked in, the party had already started. Ah, this is good. No congradulatory speech to sit through. He turned to Cheryl. "Come with me, we gotta go say high to the man of the hour and we can sit." She nodded and answered with "Okay." She hooked her left arm around his right, staying close and getting some sort of a grip on the sleeve of his blazer. Some people were dancing, but he didn't mind, he cut through the dance floor, however in a nonchalant manner. When they finally got over to Carrington, his wife was with him and he was being congradulated all around. He was a year or two older than Paul, and about an inch short. When Carrington noticed him, his eyebrows raised and he greeted him with a "Hey! Thought you wouldn't be here." Paul chuckled. "The party just started, I'm a few minutes late, no big deal." Carrington smiled "I suppose. And who's this?" he asked, his eyes shifting over to Cheryl. "Oh, this is my girlfriend Cheryl. Nice, right?" Paul said, raising his eyebrows with a mischievous smile, slighlty tilting his head forward. Cheryl smirked, jabbing her elbow into his side under his arm that she had wrapped hers around, causing him to jolt a little. Paul frowned as if he were to say "Whatchu talkin' about, Willis?", and Carrington and his wife laughed. Cheryl extended her free hand to shake Carrington's, and he accepted, getting a good yet gentle grip and shaking lightly before letting go. "Well, you guys go get something to eat and sit down and enjoy yourselves. Paul nodded. "Will do. C'mon Cheryl." With that, they made their way over to the table with all the food trays and got on the now short line. After scanning over the trays and getting what they wanted, they made their way over to a sparsely populated table and sat. "Do you know all these people here?" Cheryl asked. Paul looked up from cutting his food. "Yeah, most of them, all of these guys are in my unit and some of em have done work with us on big cases in the past. They all know me though," he said with a wink and chuckle, causing her to smile. "Why don't you have a partner?" she asked. "I wasn't assigned one. I could request one if I need a friend or something, but that won't be until I finish this case I'm working on," he said as he cut his food with a knife and fork. She nodded and got to working on hers. He plucked a piece of food with his fork and put it into his mouth and started to chew. Good stuff. It was baked ziti. As he chewed, he opened his sense of hearing. Music was playing. Peope were talking. A lot of conversations going on at once. He studied this. Then he started analyzing every little thing he could and started comparing it to how animals in the wild would act. He didn't know why he did it, but it was a habit. They all come together as friends or members of a pack or a clan to celebrate the fact that one of their own has moved up a level. They gather and feed themselves and communicate, about all sorts of things as they eat. Just talking and eating for the most part, oblivious to what's going on outside. Why, though? What's the point?.....Why?
"Paul," Cheryl called. He snapped out of his trance. "You alright?" she asked, a slight worried look on her face. He put his hand over hers, and nodded assuringly.
"I'm fine. Just, deep in thought."
At about 10:00 they had left at went home and went to bed. The thoughts repeated in Paul's mind as he fell asleep. ----
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:08:56 GMT -5
Chapter 2: The clues don't add up ----
NYPD 12-7-03 3:00PM
Paul sat at his desk with his legs resting up on top of it. Leaned back in his chair, he tapped his pen on the desk as if he was antsy. He'd done all of his paper work and there was nothing for him to do. He could go and enjoy himself, but Cheryl was at work, so in reality he couldn't. "Why do you just sit there, Paul?" Captain Howard had asked him once. "If you got no work to do you don't have to come in, we'll contact you if there's something that needs to be done." Made him feel real useful. But today would be different, and Paul didn't have a clue. With his legs still up on his desk, he swiveled in the chair left and right for mere hip movement to keep him busy. His eyes drifted around again. Same [s-word], different day. He looked over to the Wanted posters up on the wall across from his office and the one to the left of his. The usuals, and the unusuals. Some sleazebag Italian greasball. A few black guys. A couple juveniles. Handful of Latinos. And then one was missing. Paul arched a brow. The poster for Daniel Lancaster, a suspected serial killer and syndicate member, was taken down. Paul rubbed his chin and thought about this. Either he was arrested or killed. Wait, wasn't he being watched? Paul rose from his chair and walked into the Captain's office. Howard had two other detectives with him in. When he saw Paul coming to the door, he shook his head as if to say yes and motioned for him to quickly get into the room. When he did, he shut the door behind him.
"Eustace, good thing you're here, I was just about to call you."
Paul looked over at the other two detectives. Corallo and Hall. He gave them a nod before looking back over to Howard. "Why, what's the matter?"
"You saw the wanted wall, right?"
"Yeah, Lancaster's poster is gone, what's the deal?"
"These two were watching him. Now he's gone, and we can't find him anywhere."
"Yeah, and how do I fall into this?" Paul inquired.
"We checked his phone calls and we didn't find anything usual, so we tapped his phone." Corallo answered.
"He contact with a person named Irvine and few times. The guy you're looking for."
Paul's eyebrows raised, a look of surprise and almost shock coming over his face. "...What?" Howard was first to snap him out of it.
"Listen, we think this guy is the reason why Lancaster is gone, he might have drugged him up and kidnapped him or killed him or something. Either way, you're all on this case now."
"Well, do you have recordings of his phone calls?" Paul asked anxiously.
"Yeah, right here." Hall said. He picked up a tape recorder and pushed the play button. It started with the usual fuxx from a recorded tape but then it picked up. Paul listened closely. It started with the phone ringing. Then someone picked up.
"Lancaster."
"Yes, hello Anubis." Paul frowned. Anubis? When was he ever called Anubis?
"Who is this?" Lancaster demanded.
"You know who this is. You've been expecting my phone call."
"Okay, stop playing games assh--"
"Anubis," The man said in a bold tone, cutting Lancaster off. "You asked me about the Matrix on the internet a long time ago. Are you still interested?"
"Irvine...?" Lancaster suddenly asked as if he were in the presence of someone highly superior than he.
"Yes. The phone is tapped, Anubis. I will contact you again." The click of the phone hanging up followed after, and Hall pressed stop.
All four men exchanged looks. "Anyone ever heard of the Matrix?" Howard asked. All three detectives shook their heads to say no.
"Hold on, there's one more." Hall said. He pressed play again. The phone ringing was heard again, and someone picked up.
"Hello?"
"Anubis, this is Irvine. Are you ready to meet?"
"Yes."
"Meet me in the shut down storage warehouse on Brick and 9th."
*Click*
"Okay gentlemen, we have our work cut out for us," Howard started. "Corallo, Hall, I want you guys to go into his house and look for clues and see if we can get any evidence on this guy, here's the warrant, keep it with you." He handed Corollo the warrant, and he folded it and put it in his pants pocket. Then he turned to Paul. "Eustace, I want you to go over to that old warehouse and see if you can find anything. And while you're at it, find out what the hell they talking about and find out what the 'Matrix' is. Now, on the double!"
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:09:10 GMT -5
Paul nodded and left the office. He checked his gun to make sure it was loaded and the safety off. Hall chuckled. "Ready to shoot off again, eh Paul?"
"Just making sure. Whatever is takes to keep my ass alive. I'll see you guys later." ----
3:30PM
The car radio was off as Paul drove away from the precinct in the direction of the warehouse. He drove at a moderate speed, and wasn't in any sort of a rush. His eyes moved all over as he drove down the crowded city streets, looking from person to person, store signs, the road ahead of him, side streets, anything in his sight that was in front of him. He looked at the street he was on. Main Avenue. He made a left onto 36th street. Brick and 9th wasn't too far away, but the location was a good choice for something like a secret meeting. The area the warehouse was in was a run-down section of the city, somewhere you would go to only look for trouble. The warehouse itself had been shut down a few years ago but no one wanted to touch it because the people living in the area deemed it "historical" since it had been there for quite a while. Please. It was for storage. Why is it necessary to have incentives? It seemed like the whole neighborhood was stuck in time. With the sunset in the background, and the dusty feeling of the place, the area had a sepia tone to it, boring and dull as if it was clay. There was a sign of life though, people walking up and down the sidewalks, and some cars. It wasn't abandoned. It just wasn't that great of a place either. It gave Paul the feeling someone was watching or something was out there. He passed 6th street and sighed. Paul was wary as he turned onto Brick avenue, always on the alert. Someone around here might not like him in these parts and decide to show off how many bullets they had in their gun. Was it a boring day or just the city that did it? It started to rain. Oh great. Make that the day, and the city. He felt like leaving, but his assignment held him back, so he shook his head. Where is this wearhouse? Then, as he came to 9th street, he saw it, standing there still as the rain cut through the sunset, as if were expecting him. He pulled into the lot and up next to the building's main entrance, and turned off the ignition. He thought about whether our not he should walk through the rain or cover his head. [f-word] it. He got out of the car and walked into the door. It was dark, there were no lights on. He moved over to flip a switch to his left on the wall. He toggled it a few times, nothing. He scanned the inside of the room with his eyes. There were several racks with four or five large shelves on them that were made of metal, painted in orange and green. There were four rows of these continuous racks that ran from roughly the front to the back of the wearhouse, with some space inbetween the ends of these rows and the main wall for walking, and cross sections between every three blocks of racks. The space inbetween the rows themselves was large, about nine feet of space between each. He proceeded forward, cautiously. The only light was those coming through the windows, which were small in size on the walls and not many, and large on the ceiling, they few and far between. There was one large window in the middle of every set of rows separated by a cross section, and they were barred. It looked like a huge stock room in the back of a large department store. With the sun going down outside, it wouldn't be too long before it was pitch black in the warehouse. He stepped forward into one of the rows between two racks. After walking a few feet, he reached into his blazer and pulled out his gun and let his arm hang down at his side again, then pulled back the hammer. He had a funny feeling walking through this place. Just in case. He passed the first barred skylight. Looking around, through the empty racks, up above him, and watching his back, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Then he saw something on the floor ahead, in the light of the second skylight. He picked up the speed in his step so he could get a closer look, and stopped in the light pouring down from above. It was a small white card, about the size of a business card. After he put his gun back into it's holster, he put on the pair of rubber gloves he had in his coat pocket and flipped the card over. There was writing in black ink. A curious frown came over his face as he turned the card over right side up so that he could read it. It read "The Matrix Has You." The Matrix, again? He arched a brow, and stared at it as he held it in his right hand while with his left he went for a small plastic zip-lock evidence bag. He slipped the card into the bag, fastened the top, and put it into his coat pocket. Then he removed the gloves and place them into his other pocket, and turned around, and walked towards the door. He noticed the rain had begun to come down harder. The water ran down the window kind of like suds, each bead of water running down and leaving a trail, followed by another bead of water, all across the window in vertical rows. He moved on, and walked through the door, to the outside. The rain hit him all over as he walked to his car. He didn't waste any time standing there, as he climbed in and drove away. ----
4:10PM
Paul was last of the three detectives to get back since the place he had to go to was farther. When he walked in, Simpson, the guy at the front desk nodded to him. He was close to retiring. "Eustace, the Captain is waiting for you in his office with Corallo and Hall." "Thanks Simpson." Paul responded. He ran up the stairs to the second floor and made his way into Howard's office, as he walked in he heard Howard say "Here he is." He shut the door behind him.
"Eustace, did you find anything?" Howard asked.
"The place was empty, this is all I found," he said as he pulled out the white card in the evidence bag. He tossed it onto Howard's desk, and he examined it through the plastic. "The Matrix" he said to himself. "You didn't find anything on this Matrix though?"
Paul shook his head. "Nope, nothing. That's it. Whoever Irvine is, he was there, and Lancaster was with him."
Howard shook his head as to say yes. "Good, good, now we have a break in the case, these two didn't find much." He looked over at Corallo and Hall "You two go look up whatever info you can find on Lancaster's syndicate connections." He looked back over to Paul. "Eustace, I want you to write a report on this evidence and find out what the Matrix is, do whatever research you have to do, got it?" All three of the detectives nodded. "Then get to it. And somebody get this bag over to Evidence."
Paul walked out and went back into his office cubicle. As he sat there waiting for his computer to start up, he thought of the white card again.
'The Matrix Has You'....
What is the Matrix? ----
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:10:21 GMT -5
Chapter 3: The Man from the other side ----
NYPD 12-7-03 4:45PM
In the thirty five minutes that had passed since he had gotten back, Paul had began writing the report on the evidence he found and almost died of boredom reliving the moment. He included in the report the time he left, the time he got to the storage warehouse, the time he left the warehouse, and the time he got back to the precinct. He described the inside, including the power failure, and especially, the card he found on which was written, "The Matrix Has You." All of the important details, the literal stuff that anyone who needed the information would have some use for. What he didn't include though, was that it felt as if he was being watched by unseen eyes. That feeling that creeped him out and caused him to take his gun from his holster. He thought it over as he typed and wondered: Am I still being watched?. He shrugged it off. Stop scaring yourself. That always happens when you feel spooked but can't see anything, he convinced himself. He looked at his screen and all of the black text against the white screen. The blinking cursor, blinking every second. The font control, the spacing. Nodding, he decided he was finished with the report. Saving it, he sat back in the chair and exhaled through his lips, his cheeks puffing up only until all of the air/carbon dioxide was out of his mouth. He looked out of the windows surrounding him to see what was up. Then he noticed something, something he never saw before. Three men came to the upstairs floor and entered Howard's office. To Paul, they looked like secret service agents back from the 1960's, dressed in black suits, with generic black dress shoes. Under their jackets were white dress shirts, and black ties, pinned to their shirts via a silver pin with simple horizontal line design. They all wore their hair parted at their left, and they all wore white earpieces in their right ear, the coiled wire hanging down beside their neck and then being tucked in under their white shirts. The most notable and possibly intimidating feature of their outfits were the the square framed sunglasses they all wore, the lenses shaded black to the point where you couldn't see their eyes or tell if they were looking for you. But that wasn't the case for Paul. He saw Howard look in his direction and point towards his office, and the three of their heads turned; They were looking at him alright. It wasn't until they exited Howard's office and started towards his own that he started to worry. Okay, he thought, What have I done lately that would get the Feds on my case....haven't shot anyone...haven't blown anything up, no car accidents..oh [s-word], here they come. The three men entered the office and stood in line from side to side, the one in the center a step in front of the other two. They all stood at at least six feet tall even. The one in the middle spoke.
"Mr. Eustace, I'm Agent Williams, these are my colleagues, Agent Davis and Agent Miller," he said, the other two nodding smugly as their names were mentioned.
Paul stood up from sitting in his chair to see eye to eye with the man, standing at least two feet from him. "Hi," he said wearily. "Something I can help you with?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact there is, Mr. Eustace." Agent Williams said. He spoke in a bold, direct tone, he didn't drag on any words or speak slow or fast, rather, at a steady rate, almost as though he were a robot. "We understand that you've been tracking an individual named Irvine for the past year and you haven't gained any leads on him until recently when a Mr. Daniel Lancaster went missing."
"Yeah, that's true..." Paul replied, in a skeptical tone. This news travelled fast for something that happened only so recently. "What about him?"
"Well, we understand he has charges of murder, kidnap, and drug use against him and currently there is a warrant out for his arrest and that you're the Detective who's been put on the case. We were wondering if you had seen anything unusual lately."
Paul recalled the warehouse and the white card. "No, nothing unusual. Why?"
Agent Williams took a breathe of air and sighed as if he realized he would be staying longer than he had planned. "The truth is, Mr. Eustace, this character Irvine is far more dangerous than he seems, especially according to the way you have him listed down in your files. Compared to your records, he is far worse than he appears. And of course, we all know appearances can be decieving."
Paul raised an eyebrow at his last statement. "Yeah..What's he really like?"
"To make a long story short, the man is a known terrorist that has his own group of sorts that works with him. You are aware of the shoot outs that have been taking place all over the city, are you not?"
"Yeah, I've heard of them, they turn up from out of nowhere. Is he involved with those too?"
"Yes, actually, he is involved. A great threat to the public, and he isn't the only one." He swallowed, and took a moment to turn his head towards Agent Davis and Agent Miller. "However, we have a more important subject to talk about while we're here."
"Oh, yeah? What's that?"
"We'd like to ask you for your help Mr. Eustace, in tracking this Irvine down and helping us take him into custody."
"Yeah, I think I can do that. Is there any specific procedures to follow?"
"Here's my number, Mr. Eustace. If any new information about him turns up, you know where to contact me." Agent Williams said, holding out a small white business card. Paul took it and looked at the phone number. It read (843) 797-8360. He looked back up at Agent Williams and nodded. "Yeah, sure, I can help."
"Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Eustace. We look forward to hearing from you in the future." Agent Williams concluded. The three men turned, and exited the office, walking toward the stairs. Paul looked back at the card for a moment and looked back to the three Agents. He called after them.
"What If something about the Matrix turns up?"
The three Agents froze in their steps. Paul's eyebrows raised, he took this in as if he just said something that was very insulting to them, and this now was the reaction. They all looked back in his direction. He narrowed his eyes and frowned slighlty as though to analyze their reactions.
"The what?" Agent Williams asked.
"The Matrix...at the last known location Lancaster and Irvine were known to be at, I found this card that said 'The Matrix Has You', and we figured Irvine was linked to it. What should I do if anything about the Matrix turns up again?"
They looked at each other like they were deciding what to do about this. Agent Davis's right hand came to his right hand ear over his earpiece. Then, he looked over to Agent Williams and Agent Miller and nodded. Miller looked to Williams.
"He's planning another unplugging."
"He will be back."
"We can use this to finally get him."
Paul watched and listened to this and thought Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut about the Matrix..sounds like they've been looking for him for a while too though.
Agent Willaims looked back over to Paul. "Mr. Eustace, would you please come take a ride with us?"
"Uhm.." Paul manged to get out, as he tried to think of a reason to not to go. He looked at his computer. He'd finished the report. The only idea he could think of was Howard. "I just have to let my boss know."
"He's already aware that you may be stepping out with us. It will only be brief."
Paul's eyes shifted from Agent to Agent and he stayed silent for a moment. They stared back at him through their sunglasses. It didn't really seem like he had a choice. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:10:43 GMT -5
Agent Davis lead the way, followed by Agent Williams, Paul, and then Agent Miller. They made their way downstairs and towards the exit. Paul looked towards the front desk where Simpson would be, but he wasn't there. Where'd Simpson go? Must be on a piss break. Eventually they made their way outside and into a black sedan parked in front of the precinct. Paul and Agent Williams climbed into the back, while Agent Davis drove and Agent Miller sat in the front seat. They pulled away slowly and drove down the street at a regular speed. Paul looked around the car and out of the windows, seeing familiar buildings he would pass on the way to work, only this time in the reverse order. He looked over to the Agents. They all were looking forward with their hands in their lap, except for Davis, who was driving with his hands at ten and two. Things were too quiet. "Where are we going?" he asked. "It's nothing to be concerned of. We're almost there." Agent Miller answered. About ten minutes passed, and they drove into an underground parking lot. They parked on a level that had a moderate amount of cars in it, Paul observed. The ignition was turned off. "Please step out of the car," Agent Williams said, and the three men exited the car. After seeing all of their doors opened and noting the fact that they all were moving out of the car at the same time, he opened his door and stepped out, closing it behind him. Miller and Williams made their way around to the side of the car Davis and Paul were on, and then they all stood in front of Paul, like they were cornering him. Davis was to his right, Miller to the left, and Williams in the center. Noticing that they were moving toward him and that he was stepping backwards, he got concerned. "Hey, guys. What are you doing?" Then things got rough. Davis and Miller violently shoved him at his shoulders and sent him back, hitting up against the car door. "Hey, what the [f-word] are you--" he managed to get out, but was cut off when Davis grabbed his face and his right arm and held him against the car. He turned his head so that the right side faced out to the Agents, and got a tight grip, configuring his fingers in a manner so Paul couldn't open his mouth enough to get any noise out at a significant volume. Miller grabbed his left arm and held it up against the car with the same painfully tight grip. Twitching under their hold, Paul couldn't move. Williams pulled out from the pocket inside of his jacket a small silver box and opened it, pulling out of it a small dark grey object that was two inches long. "We apologize for the procedure, Mr. Eustace. But in the end, you'll be doing us a favor." Looking as far right as he possibly could, Paul saw Williams push a small button on the object. A red light lit up, and he thought it saw it shake at first. Then, many little spike like objects broke out from the sides of the object, and they too began to move, and it all together started squirming. It looked like a small robotic centipede. Williams held it out and moved it closer to Paul's head. He started moving about, trying to escape, but to no avail, his efforts were futile. He tried to scream but could only let out a low grumble. Williams held the centipede over his right ear, and let go. Paul felt it drop into his ear and begin to squirm and wiggle it's way inside of his head. He started to freak out, moving and kicking violently and putting out as loud of a noise he could muster.
He screamed out loud as he jumped up in his bed. Cheryl jumped up next to him, scared out of her sleep. Paul sat there with no shirt on, and the rest of his body covered by the comforter. In a cold sweat, he panted for air as if he was holding his breath under the water for too long. He looked around the room frantically, trying to place himself, letting out small yells as he calmed down, each more quiet than the one before it until it reduced to a heavy breathing. Cheryl came to him and put her arms around him. She ran her right hand through his hair and placed her left hand on his chest.
"Paul! Paul, are you alright?"
"Wh-what...where, where am I?"
"Paul, it's me Cheryl, you were having a bad dream. You're here, home in bed."
"Wh...huh? A dream? No, I..I was at work, and the three guys, the feds, Williams, and Davis, and Miller. They put some thing in my ear, and.."
"No no, you're fine. You scared the [s-word] out me."
His senses came back to him, he felt her bare breasts upon his left arm. He looked down to them, and then up into her eyes. Still breathing heavily, he looked over to the alarm clock beside his bed. It said 10:36. He frowned. "10:36? It was about a quarter to five when I left the office. When did I get home?"
"You came home around eight o'clock and said you were tired and we went to bed."
"Eight? What?" He couldn't remember walking in. "What did we do?"
"Well, we didn't go to sleep right away." She said in an implying tone. He raised his eyebrows. He didn't remember any sex either. Giving up, he shook his head. "It must have been a bad dream. Realistic to say the least, huh? You almost set off all the car alarms on the block." She said in a kidding voice.
"Have you ever had a dream where you couldn't tell if you were awake or in bed dreaming the whole thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, it seems real, like this, right now, but you can't tell if you're dreaming or not. Kind of like when you have dreams and realize something was wrong and you were only in bed dreaming it up but you couldn't tell which one was a dream or not."
"Nope, never. You crazy head." She kissed his head on his temple and got up out of the bed. He looked over to her. Bare ass naked he registered. "Where are you going?" He asked. "To get a drink," she answered. He decided he had to use the bathroom. He moved his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, realized he was naked too. Hm. He stood up and walked down the hallway into the bathroom. Standing over the toilet, he began to piss and sighed, feeling exhausted and tired. He looked into the mirror at his reflection. He looked tired, he could tell in the way his eyes looked. When he finished, he stepped over to the right and rinsed his hands in some warm water. As he stepped out, in the corner of his eye, he saw the mirror, and in the mirror, he saw his left ear, and it reminded him of his dream. He stepped back into the bathroom and leaned over the counter. Leaning forward, he turned his head so the right side faced the mirror, enough so he could still see when he shifted his eyes as far right as possible. He tilted his head in several directions in the light, looking for anything unnatural, like scars, or a cut, or a tiny mechanic centipede. Sighing after finding nothing, he shook his head, and turned the light off. Walking back out into the hallway, he went back into the room and saw Cheryl waiting for him in the bed. "Hey tough guy," she greeted him with. "Hi babe," he mumbled as he walked around to his side of the bed. Climbing back into bed, he pulled the covers up over his legs and layed facing Cheryl. "You alright?" she asked. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, his eyes closed. "I gotta do something at work tomorrow." She sighed and cuddled up against him and pulled his arm over her. "All you do is think of work," she claimed. "Go to sleep," he answered. She kicked him lightly and no more words were exchanged.
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:11:03 GMT -5
12-8-03 2:13PM NYPD
Paul sat at his desk in his office again. He'd quit thinking of his dream experience and more about what it was that apparently got him into that situation: the Matrix. Accessing the FBI's database, since nothing could be found in the precinct's, he entered 'the Matrix' into the search field. The results that came up were interesting, enough to cause his eyebrows to raise. They were almost scary. All cases and information with any mention of the term 'the Matrix' were all missing persons cases, the evidence of such mention of the Matrix found at the site of supposed kidnapping. None of them mentioned Irvine though. The plot thickens. He tapped his fingers on his desk. Obviously, whatever this Matrix was, it was all related to people that turned up missing. Where did they go? He sat back at his chair and looked over at the shelves with all the binders on them and noticed a dictionary. He arched a brow, and pushed over in his swivel chair, grabbed the dictionary from the shelf, and rolled back over to his desk. Flipping through the pages, he looked up the word Matrix and read the following:
"ma·trix or ma·trix·es
A situation or surrounding substance within which something else originates, develops, or is contained: “Freedom of expression is the matrix, the indispensable condition, of nearly every form of freedom” (Benjamin N. Cardozo).
The womb.
Anatomy.
The formative cells or tissue of a fingernail, toenail, or tooth.
See ground substance.
Geology.
The solid matter in which a fossil or crystal is embedded. Groundmass.
A mold or die.
The principal metal in an alloy, as the iron in steel.
A binding substance, as cement in concrete.
Mathematics. A rectangular array of numeric or algebraic quantities subject to mathematical operations.
Something resembling such an array, as in the regular formation of elements into columns and rows.
Computer Science. The network of intersections between input and output leads in a computer, functioning as an encoder or a decoder.
Printing.
A mold used in stereotyping and designed to receive positive impressions of type or illustrations from which metal plates can be cast. Also called mat2.
A metal plate used for casting typefaces.
An electroplated impression of a phonograph record used to make duplicate records."
Shaking his head, he couldn't make any sense of it. He put down the dictionary and again asked himself, What is the Matrix? His phone rang. He picked it up and put it up to his ear.
"Detective Paul Eustace."
"Is this Jarvas?" A mysterious voice asked over the phone. He recognized the voice. However, he wasn't sure.
"Who is this?"
"You already know who I am, Jarvas."
"Irvine."
"Yes. You must be saying to yourself, 'I finally come into contact with this bastard', hm? You have been searching for me for over a year now."
Paul looked over to Howard's office, and all around the floor, looking for someone to help him get a trace on Irvine's location.
"Don't bother trying to record and trace this phone call, you won't find me. I am far beyond your reach, but if things turn out right, it will not stay that way for too much longer."
He looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching him and pranking his phone. Seeing no one, he went over to his window and looked out. Hundreds of windows from dozens of buildings. He could be anywhere.
"I'm not outside either. The question of why or how I can see what you're doing, or how I know your alias is probably driving you crazy, but we both know that there's another question driving you even more crazy."
"What?"
"You know what the question is Jarvas. But you've been bugged, and that unfortunately cuts our time short. I will contact you again soon."
"But wait a minute!"
"Farewell."
The line went dead. He took the phone from his head and looked at it before placing it back upon the reciever. He sat back in his chair and tried to make sense of what just happened. He'd actually spoken to the guy, who somehow knew exactly what he was doing and thinking. He didn't get it. What the [f-word] was that? ----
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:11:53 GMT -5
Chapter 4: You never see it coming
12-8-03 2:30PM NYPD
Without realizing that he was staring at the floor in his deep thought, Paul tried to figure out why Irvine was now calling him. What does he want with me? He shook his head. Now he knew he was out there, but where he hadn't the slightest idea. He looked back up at his computer monitor and saw the search results and remembered what he was doing before he had gotten the phone call. Finding out what the Matrix was. He looked over out the window across the floor to Howard's office again. How many times have I looked over there in the past few days? He got up out of his chair and exited his office and went over and knocked on the Howard's door and was greeted with an immediate "Come in". He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Howard looked up from whatever it was he was doing at the moment and blinked as he took a moment to see who came in. "Whatcha got, Paul?" he asked. He seems calm.
"I just did a search on the FBI's database for the Matrix. Every case that came up was related by one specific factor other than mention of the Matirx."
"Yeah? What, what is it?"
"They're all missing persons cases. Every single one."
"This looks like it's deeper than just one guy who fell off the face of the earth with a drug dealer. Something's not right here."
"You have any suggestions?"
"Well you said all of the cases related to the term Matrix were all filed as missing persons cases. Obviously your friend isn't the only one doing all of the disappearing acts, so there's more like him out there, meaning that going after one guy might be a waste of time."
"A waste of time? People are disappearing and leaving no trace as to where they go and all we get to do is play around with our thumbs up our asses trying to figure out what the Matrix is."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, this isn't any walk in the park it's been happening all over the place it seems. Okay then, listen. You're in charge of this now."
"What do you mean I'm in charge of it?"
"The whole missing persons thing with the Matrix, I want you to lead the case."
"I'm a narc, I don't work in missing persons why don't you hand it over to them?"
"Because this Irvine guy is still in your hands and you've got a lead now."
Paul sighed. His facial expression became that of one who was concerned or worried about something else other than the situation at hand, as he thought about Irvine's phone call once again.
"What's the matter with you?"
He snapped out of it. "Wha-Oh, nothing, I'm fine. Yeah, I'll see what I can do with this. If I don't find anything you'll be the first to know about it."
"Do whatever you gotta do to find out where these people are going, who Irvine is, and what the Matrix is. Find out by any means necessary."
"Alright." Paul looked at the clock. It was 2:50. His shift ended at 3:00. "Hey I'm gonna get outta here okay?"
"What? Oh, yea, that's fine, see you tomorrow." said Howard, already putting his attention toward something else on his desk. He was busy in paperwork. Paul stepped out and went back into his office. He turned off his computer, and as he walked out of his office, he shut the door behind him and locked it. After he made it downstairs and went outside, he began walking over to his car. He reached into his pocket for his keys, and then his cell phone rang. He took it out and flipped it open.
"Hello?"
"I did say I would contact you soon."
Paul had a double take. "Irvine!!"
"You sound excited. And now it looks as if you're searching for me more now than you ever have in the past."
"How long have you been watching me?"
"Questions, questions. That's irrelevant."
"Questions?! You act like you think I'd have none!"
"Well, I did know you would have questions, and you'll have more soon, but I was looking for something more specific.."
I know what he wants.
"What is the Matrix?"
"Aha. Now we have progress."
"What is it?"
"Don't be impatient, we have longer than we did before. The Matrix is everywhere."
"What?"
"The Matrix is pervasive, it's all around you. You're staring at it as we speak. It's right under your nose. You've been living these past 29 years oblivious to its existance. It has you Jarvas. I can help you escape, but only if you want me to."
Paul considered this. Help me escape..? This is more than a case now. He has the answers I'm looking for.
"..Where can I meet you?"
"Are you sure you're ready for the truth? I think you are, but I won't force you to do this."
"I'm sure."
"We'll meet tonight."
"How do I know where to meet you?"
"I'll be outside. You'll know when you see me. Until then, keep dreaming."
Irvine had hung up the phone before Paul could ask another question. He looked at his phone, and thought about what he said. He looked down the street as he put his phone in his pocket. He turned his head and looked in the opposite direction. He looked at the buildings in front of him, the cars parked alongside the street, and then all around him. Nothing seemed at all strange. Pervasive? He shrugged and moved to climb into his car, started the ignition, and drove off. ----
3:00PM
When he got out of the car, he slammed the door shut, but in the process, dropped his keys. When he kneeled down to pick him up, he thought he saw someone standing on the street corner in the corner of his eye. Maybe he's waiting to cross the street. After picking up his keys, he stood up and turned his head toward the person standing there. In a second, he scanned the man with his eyes from head to toe. Black suit, white shirt, tie, glasses. Staring at him. Williams?! He had a double take. Then, a group of people walked in front of the man who was supposedly Agent Williams. When they'd passed by, he was gone. Paul looked in the direction he stood for a moment and shook his head. Just a dream...just a dream. He turned and crossed the street, and then walked up the steps to the apartment complex lobby and stepped inside. Down the block on the sidewalk on Paul's side of the street this time rather than the opposite stood Agent Williams, watching silently. A couple passed him by, and when he saw Paul make it inside the building, his right hand went up to the ear plug. He took a moment, registering whatever instructions it was that was coming over the link.
"Subject is inside home. Irvine nowhere in proximity. We will continue to watch Mr. Eustace until further instructions are received."
With that, he turned and walked away down the street, amidst every other non suspecting person.
When he'd gotten home, Paul put his jacket up on the rack and put his gun and holster away in his room. He sat back on the couch. As good as it was to be home this early and be able to relax and have no other work to do, he couldn't get Irvine off of his mind. He said it to himself over and over in his head, I'm meeting him tonight. He didn't notice but once again he was staring out into space at the floor while he was so deep in thought. Cheryl walked into the room and sat down and cuddled next to him.
"Hey, why the straight face?"
"Huh? Oh, it's nothing." He gave her a kiss. "How are you?"
"I'm doing alright I just finished cleaning and made myself something to eat before you walked in. How was your day?"
"Wasn't so bad. Just a bunch of desk work."
"Not so much action for the big tough narc detective as he planned, huh?" she said, poking him in jest with her elbow. He got her in a head lock and started patting her head as if to smack her and she started to yell. "Stop! No! You're gonna mess up my hair!"
"Then don't poke me with your elbow," he answered with a smile. She pounced onto him and they started to wrestle, with Cheryl on top of Paul. She'd pound on his chest and he would retaliate by pushing her face away, smudging her cheeks in the process. Then he'd move to grab her by the wrists and hold her arms up and away so she couldn't move them. She'd try to fight it but her attempts would be futile. "You gonna stop?" he asked, waiting for her to submit. After trying to break free a few more times, she had tired out. "Fine, alright!" she yelled out, and he let go. She fell down and layed on top of him. Then, aside from the sound of the tweo breathing heavy to catch their breath, there was silence. Then she spoke.
"Paul."
"Yeah?"
"What are we going to do today?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, for the rest of the day. You're off. I don't have much to do. Are we gonna just lay around?"
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I don't know. I was just wondering."
"Oh."
"Do you love me?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Sure. Why?"
"Felt like asking. You answered too fast."
"What's that supposed to mean, I said I loved you didn't I?"
"Yeah whatever." He could tell she was in some mood.
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:12:31 GMT -5
They would spend hours talking, just talking about whatever random thoughts popped into their heads. They didn't seem to notice how pointless it all sounded. It's almost scary, how when some people have free time on their hands, they could just sit and talk and lay around and do nothing as if nothing else mattered, oblivious to what was going on in the outside world. Just living their lives day by day through the years. It never occured to them either. And the ones that did get out more with their free time, that actually were busy all of the time, had no idea what was going on in the rest of the world. Time passed. Paul and Cheryl would make their dinner, sit down and eat and converse about bull[s-word], and then go to watch TV, all comfortable on the couch. However, Irvine never left his mind. The more late it got, the more he started feeling like a small child on Christmas Eve, impatient when it came to waiting to open his presents. Like the child, Paul's patience was beginning to run low. ----
8:00PM
Paul had dozed off on the couch sitting next to Cheryl. A bus passed by outside, the loud sounds of the breaks hissing and the engine weezing catching her attention. She sat up on the couch and moved the blindes out of the way and looked outside to the ground. There was no bus. There were no cars. The sky had darkened. There was one thing she did notice though. Outside across the street leaning against a light pall was a man that looked to be about Paul's height. He had combed back, dark brown wavy hair, a lock of hair coming down on the left side of his forehead, but not covering his eyes, that were shielded with sunglasses. Who would be wearing sunglasses at eight o'clock at night? She observed the rest of his appearance. He had a small mustache, and some hair on his chin and under his lip. He also had bony cheeks, and looked like a thin person. He wore a black dress shirt under his jacket, which was kind of like a coat, in that it was made to be worn like a suit jacket but instead went down to his knees. Under the collar of his dress shirt was a tie. Both his shirt and his jacket were buttoned up. Black dress pants covered his thighs and black dress shoes on his feet. He wore no jewelry. She studied the way he stood, and the tilt of his head. Then, the hair lifted on the back of her neck and along her spine. He was looking at her. Quickly, she dropped away from the window as if to hide herself, and began shaking Paul.
"Paul! Paul, wake up!"
He was slightly startled as he came out of his sleep, but was alert right away. "What, what's the matter?"
"Paul, there's a man outside standing across the street looking up at our window!"
"What? What do you mean?"
"Paul, go look damnit he might come in here and try to kill us!"
Considering the fact that this was a possibility, Paul got up from his seat and looked out of the window. There stood the man looking up at the window at them, just like Cheryl said. But now that Paul had looked out the window, a smile came upon the man's face. Paul instantly knew. It's him. He jumped off of the couch, running into his room, grabbing his gun, and then back out into the living room to put his jacket on.
"Where are you going?!" Cheryl asked, jumping up from the couch. She was scared.
"I have to go now." He told her, and went for the door.
"You can't leave me here! What if he has partners that are going to come up here?!"
"He won't, you'll be fine. I have to go get him, this is the guy I've been after dammit" With that, he rushed out of the door and left her standing there.
He ran down the stairs so fast that he almost tripped and fell several times. With the gun in his hand, he ran down two flights of stairs, and bursted out the front doors. He screeched to a halt, looking to the light pole. Irvine wasn't there. He looked down the road, and saw him. He was running away. Paul immediately charged after him.
"Hey, wait, stop!"
He turned around the corner, and Paul was still half a block away from him. He sped up and tried to go faster, and when he finally made it around the corner, he saw him up ahead, running into the darkness that Paul had stared down nights before during the snow storm. He wanted to shoot him, but he couldn't risk killing him, but also couldn't risk his own life at the same time. They both turned around another corner onto another dark street, the street lights on these roads in need of maintenance, the city looming over them, stretching into the darkness with the only indicator of light being the snow on the street sides. Steam that was carbon dioxide came from both of their mouths as they ran, but neither was running out of breath. Irvine made a left and turned down an alley. When Paul made it around, he saw Irvine jump up onto some crates and over the fence that was down the alley. Paul followed his path, and when he made it over, he saw him run down the rest of the alley again and into the street ahead that was lit by street and traffic lights, giving him a better view. They had both ran out into open traffic, car horns beeping and cars swerving. Paul fired 3 shots up into the air with efforts to scare people away, but it only caused more scream. Howard would have his ass on fire for that. Irvine ran across the street down another alley, this time one without a fence. After running down the length of the alley, Irvine turned to his left and opened a steel door and went inside the building. Speeding up, Paul followed down the alley and went into the door and was standing in a deserted apartment. And the greeting he received wasn't what he expected.
Besides Irvine, there were four other people waiting there with him. Three of them had guns pointed at Paul. He stood wide eyed looking at each of them trying to figure out what he'd just gotten himself into. One of these people was a black man that was maybe an inch taller than Paul was. He had a mustache, and sunglasses covering his eyes like the rest of them. His hair was short cut, almost like a soldier's would be but with the curled hair of a black man. About an inch and a half above his ears was where his hair ended. The whole inch and a half gap all around from the side of his head, around the back, and to the other side, had abosolutley no hair on it. He wore a leather calf length trench coat with the usual sized collar and lapels. Under this was a black bullet proof vest made with leather covering the kevlar, and under that, what could be a black long or short sleeve shirt. He wore a generic pair of black pants that looked like they were made of denim and were slightly baggy, and pair of boots that looked like they were made from the Lugz company. He noticed a cyllindric silver and black colored sword hilt that obviously belong to a sword being covered by the rest of the coat, on the man's right hip. Black gloves covered his hands. But what Paul took major note of was the MP5-K with a 15 round clip that he had pointed in his face. Paul looked from the barrel of the gun, to the black guy's face. He had no facial expression.
Paul then looked to the next one. A female of oriental descent who was petite in size. Her jet black hair was tied back into a long french braid that went down to her waist line. She wore a skin tight body suit made of black spandex, and it was all one piece for ease of motion. Her boots were also skin tight and they looked like they were apart of the body suit except you could tell it was thicker leather material. They were definately feminine, made for quick and agile activity, with heels and were an inch and 1/4 thick and they went as high as her calf. Over this body suit she wore a small leather jacket that ended at her waist with a small collar and lapels. She had a Walther PPK aimed right between his eyes. The sunglasses made her look as if she were a stone cold killer. If the shoe fits..
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:13:15 GMT -5
He looked onto the last person aiming a gun at him. Another female. This one was about an inch taller than Cheryl was. Her hair was black, pin straight, and went down to her collar bone. She wore a black tank top that was slighlty bloused where it was tucked in at her waist, under a pair of black combat B.D.U. pants. The ends of her pants were tucked into standard issue combat boots. Over all of this she wore a knee length coat that was made of leather but not as thick as your standard leather trenchcoat. She stared at him through her sunglasses as she held a Beretta 85FS aimed at his face in her hand. She wore gloves over her hands with the fingers cut half way.
Then there was the last thug of Irvine's pack. This one seemed laid back, or not at all worried or concerned about Paul than the other three did. Unlike the others with black or dark brown hair, this man had slicked back platinum blonde hair. He had black sunglasses in his own style like the others did on his face, along with an observant expression.. He had a long, ankle length black coat on. The most distinctive feature of this coat with the raised collar it had, the went up 2 inches fromt he shoulder line before coming back and folding down, as well as the cuffed sleeves. Under the coat he wore a black dress shirt with a raised collar that stopped just under his jaw, and over this, a vest. Under the collar of the dress shirt he wore a dark violet tie. The coat itself had no buttons to hold it closed but instead there was a gold chain that was attached and fastened at about the same level as the middle of his chest. The vest itself had gold buttons rather than black. Attached to the right side of his belt was a Katana. The hilt was gold in color but majorly black due to the rope tied around the handle for grip, making the gold look as if it were gold diamonds lining the handle, with a black cap at the tip of the hilt. The handguard was also black. The blade itself was 35 inches long, and it was encased in a black sheath. He wore white gloves on his hands. His pants were black dress pants, and he wore black dress shoes with them. He was leaning against the wall off to the side near where Irvine was standing, and his arms were crossed. This man was Anubis, the man known in the NYPD precinct as Daniel Lancaster.
Outgunned, and outnumbered, Paul knew he had no chance. "Alright. Alright," he said to signify his surrender. He released the magazine from the gun and let it drop to the floor with a *CHANG*. He slowly brought his free hand up to the slide on his gun, and pulled it back, ejecting the last round from the chamber. It fell to the floor and bounced once before finally resting. Then he dropped the gun itself. However, the three people still had their guns pointed up at him. He looked over at Irvine.
"What's the deal?" He asked, raising his arms.
"You've been bugged, you're being watched. This is for the safety of everyone here. Ride,"
Paul arched a brow when Irvine said Ride, but then realized he was talking to one of the people holding a gun to him. The one with the Beretta 85FS put her gun into the holster and stepped towards him. He turned to face her. She pulled a syringe like object out from her coat and Paul eyed it skeptically.
"What is that?"
"Don't move." She answered with a serious tone. She brought the syringe up to his right ear and pushed it in. He started to worry, and heard a loud whining noise. She pulled back on the "pump" part of the syringe and the next thing he knew it felt like someone jammed a Q-Tip into his ear and pulled it out. Slightly stunned, he put his hand up to to his ear and looked at the syringe. His eyes widened with horror. Inside the syringe, the metallic centipede that Agent Williams dropped into his ear in his "dream" squirmed around inside like a trapped animal until it seemingly died and was lifeless and still. Ride threw the syringe away. Paul's hand was still over his ear.
"That thing was real?!" he yelled out, looking to Ride for an answer. She said nothing and stared at him again. The others hadn't yet dropped their guns. Irvine put up his hand.
"Blade, Solitaire, please, put your weapons down. Our friend here is no longer a danger."
In the respective order their names were mentioned, Blade and Solitaire put their weapons away under their coats. They turned their heads toward Irvine, and he smiled.
"Now, Jarvas, time to get to business."
"Why do you call me that?"
"To us, it's your name. The name you've given to yourself as an alias to the name that was given to you."
"Oh." He shrugged slightly. I guess that makes me Jarvas now.
"Would you please come with me Jarvas, we must speak in private before we move on."
Jarvas nodded. He followed him into the next room, in which there was a table, two chair on opposite ends of the table, and a cup of water on the closer to one end. Irvine took the seat farthest from the cup of water, leaving Jarvas to take the seat closest to the water. When they sat, Jarvas rested his hands upon his thighs under the table, while Irvine preferred resting his elbows on the table top and intertwining his fingers.
"You probably feel as if you've gotten yourself caught up into something you have no knowledge about, but strangely, it doesn't feel wrong, hm?"
"..Yeah"
"When we last spoke you asked me what the Matrix was."
Jarvas nodded.
"Do you really want to know what it is?"
He hesitated for a moment. "Yes."
"The Matrix is the world that is all around you. As I've previously said, it's pervasive. You would never know of it's existance until now. It's the world you've been blindly living in with the false belief that you were living a peaceful regular life in the early 21st century. You see it everywhere. When you drive your car. When you go to the precinct. When you have sex with your girlfriend. You can sense it, like there's something that's about to happen around the corner that will be some important event, but it never comes. It's the world you were born into to keep you in the dark about the world outside. This can change."
"It can?"
"Yes. I lay a choice before you Jarvas. A choice, to get out of the Matrix, to see the world outside of this dream reality, to free your mind. Or, to stay here in the Matrix and live the same life you've been living every day where you wake up, go to work, come home, spend time with your girlfriend, go to sleep, and start it over again the next day. Are you ready to make this choice tonight?"
Jarvas looked at him and thought it over. There was a world out there now, a world out of this Matrix, where he could know the truth that Irvine thought he was ready to handle. The Truth....I want the Truth.
"Yeah."
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:13:50 GMT -5
Irvine took out from his coat pocket a small square shaped black box and opened it, pouring its contents into one hand, then setting the box down on the table. Then he placed one of the objects in his free hand. He held his closed fists in front of him. "This is it Jarvas. You've been searching for me for a year, and here we are. Once we've reached this point, there is no going back." He opened his left hand to reveal a blue pill. "If you take the blue pill, the road ends here. You wake up in your bed as if this was another dream, and keep living your life as you have been, searching for that which you cannot find." He opened his right hand to reveal a red pill. "On the other hand, if you take the red pill, I take you down the rest of the path you've stumbled upon and I'll show you the truth. Be wise. Choose your destiny."
Jarvas stared at the pills. A second later, he moved his hand out and took the red pill. He placed it into his mouth a took a sip from the glass of water and swallowed. He didn't feel at all different.
"Follow me." Irvine said. He got up and Jarvas followed him into the room they were previously in. Now a wooden chair was in place of where he was standing. Irvine motioned for him to sit down. He did , and he waited. "What's going on?"
"Just a moment." He took a cell phone out from the inside of his coat and pressed a button, and the face shield snapped up. He pushed a button on the phone and brought it up to his face. It rang and the person on the other end picked up.
"Operator."
"Glitch, are you tracking him?"
"We got him, we see where he is, we just have to wait for him to 'die'"
"Very funny. Is the exit ready?"
"It's all setup I just gotta make it ring."
"Good."
Jarvas looked around while Irvine waited on the phone. He noticed everything begin to get blurry. He tried to focus his eyes, but instead of clear vision, a green tint started to outline everything. Green lines of coding and runes started falling over everything as his vision blurred. He began to feel light headed, as if he was tripping out. He tried to call out, but all sound echoed.
"Hey....hey...what is this you gave me...?...Is this some kind of narcotic....?"
His eyelids got heavy. He looked at his hands. They weren't moving, but it looked as though they were coming closer and closer to his face. In reality, he was falling forward off of the chair slowly.
"He's breaking down."
"We're ready to go, the exit's ringing."
"Got it."
Irvine hung up his phone and put it back into his jacket. He looked to the others and nodded for them to follow. They all moved out of the room, as Jarvas fell into the darkness. ----
Jarvas shook as if he was scared out of his sleep from his leg falling off the side of the bed. He looked down in front of him and saw his hands. Everything was red. There were tubes. He was confused. He saw a flash of light above and raised his hands toward it. He pushed up at what felt like some sort of sheet of jello. It strecthed, and he put all of his effort into trying to break out of it, all of his strength had left him. Finally, he broke out from the womb that held him in and sat up and leaned forward. There was some sort of a hose attached to his face. He pulled it off and he took a deep breath but fell forward with the weight of the tube and accidentally inahled some of the red goo and closed his eyes. He began to cough and leaned over whatever it was he was sitting in the get it out of his mouth so he could breath. He opened his eyes and his vision came into focus. He saw hundreds of thousands of red pods with people sleeping in them. He looked to his left and to his right. More naked bodies with tubes attached to them, each in an individual pod of red fluid. He looked down at himself. The tubes were attached to him to. And suddenly, as he looked in front of him and upwards to see colossal towers lined with millions of the pods, he realized that he wasn't dreaming anymore. This was it. This is real...Lighting struck in the sky, the flash of light hurting his eyes. Static shocks burst randomly inbetween pods everywhere. The sky was black, charred, as if it were burnt. He looked down below and saw no floor. Where am I....Where's Irvine? He turned his head to look around but felt something holding his head back. He reached behind slowly and felt a large cable plugged into his head. What..Suddenly, a large machine rose up in front of him and extended four large legs from his body. It scared the hell out of Jarvas, he had never seen anything like it before. Then, it released a huge arm that was strangling him by his throat. A camera eye extended forward as if it were examining him. The plug in the back of his head un-drilled it self and it felt like someone scratching nails on a chalk board. As a result of this feeling combined with fear, he began to twitch furiously. When the cable fell out, the machine let go and flew away. Jarvas braced himself on his pod trying to breath. Then suddenly every other tub on his body had burst off, and it hurt, it felt like being shot, and he moved and jolted about as if that was happening to him. Then, something happened. His pod drained, and he was sliding down some sort of a chute. He had no control. Nothing to grab onto. He was just falling. Finally he was shot out of this chute and ejected into a pool of murky water. He tried to swim. He could no longer swim, There was a bright light above. He reached for it as his muscles tired out and he could no longer keep himself up He began to sink, but a large crane came down from the light above and grabbed him just and his hand was about to go under. It reeled him up into the light, and then he heard a loud slam behind him as if something shut. He could barely see. He was on some sort of a ship. There was a blue tint everywhere. Someone was carrying him. Whoever it was had set him so all could see them. He saw them all: Irvine, Blade, Anubis, Solitaire, Ride, and two others he did not know. They were no longer dressed in black. Irvine came over him and spoke gently.
"Welcome to the Real World, Jarvas."
His vision and hearing blurred. He was cold. He passed out and fell once again into the abyss of darkness. ----
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:14:36 GMT -5
Chapter 5: A Pirate's life for me
Date: Unknown Time: Unknown Area: Tunnels of the Real
Jarvas lay on a table, completely bare except for the cloth covering his groin. The tablewas lined with white fluorescent light bulbs, giving off bright white light. The part Jarvas was laying on was covered by a thin white sheet. Small antennae that were about 3 inches in length were attached to each side of his head at his temples via suction cups. The majority of the time that passed, his eyebrows and eyelashes had grown in, with only a little bit of the hair on his head apparent. His head rested on a pillow. Irvine, Anubis, Ride, and another man all stood around the table watching over him. Rather than their crafty black clothing they were wore when Jarvas first ran into them, they were now all dressed in rag like clothing. Black combat boots covered all of their feet, and they wore combat pants in several dark shades. Irvine was wearing dark blue pants and a white baggy, raggy shirt that looked like it was made of homespun cloth but now tarnished. His hair was more messy in appearance than it was in the Matrix. Anubis was dressed in a brown shirt with black pants, his jack in plug visible through his blonde hair. Ride dressed in a black tanktop and black pants, her hair as long as it appeared in the Matrix, but not as treated looking. There were black plugs visible on her arms placed every few inches. One was located two inches below her elbow on the inside of each forearm, one three inches below her wrist per arm, and one on each tricep and bicep. The other man standing there looked to be of haitian decent. He wore an outfit of fatigues, a B.D.U. jacket with cut off sleeves and combat pants in a matching dark shade of olive green. Under his vest he wore a black t-shirt, and combat boots of the same color like the others. He wore black knuckle gloves on his hands. His dreadlocks were tied back under a black bandana, and the surplus cloth that made up the knot was nearly as long as the dreadlocks themselves, which ran down to the base of his neck. This man's name was Marley, and he was a ship crew assistant like Glitch, the operator. When the others were jacked into the Matrix, he would help out Glitch while he was operating, and that included anything from unplugging the others from their chairs, or piloting the ship when the ship was under Sentinal attack & pursuit while Glitch worked as fast as he could to set up an exit to get the rest out of the Matrix ASAP. He'd also help when none of them were in the Matrix, like piloting the ship or manning a turret. Sometimes if Glitch was piloting, Marley would sit in as Operator himself. The room they all stood in was an infirmary. A fluorescent light hung above the table. There were medical supplies and cabinets here and there, and some monitors and consoles displaying the readings being taken from the antennae on Jarvas's head, such as heart rate, brain waves, and other important conditions that would be monitored on a newborn. The floor was solid steel, as well as the bulkheads. However, all of the steel had a blue tint to it. Black conduits ran across the ceiling, as well as pipes and mainlines, with some wires on the floor as well. A small cart stood beside the table, on which was several medical tools. Irvine and Marley were rebuilding Jarvas' muscles. The process was a tedious procedure in, and many accupuncture needles were placed all over his body at specific nerve points, mainly on his arms, legs, and torso. They also had blue lights on to the tips that weren't stuck into Jarvas's body. All of this had to be done to rebuild his muscles that had atrophied over the 29 years Jarvas had slept in his pod. His eyes opened, barely, and he spuinted. He couldn't look around much, but he saw the others standing over him. He recognized Irvine, but Anubis and Ride were out of his path of vision. Marley looked down and made eye contact when he noticed Jarvas had awakened. He tried to speak, and could only do so in a whisper.
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Post by Return of the Peacecraft on Sept 17, 2004 2:14:59 GMT -5
"What's going on?"
"Relax buddy, we're rebuilding your muscles." Marley answered. "You got a while to go yet."
"Irvine? Where am I?"
"We'll explain everything to you later, Jarvas. Sleep for now."
His head barely moved, but it was Jarvas's effort to nod. He closed his eyes, and in a matter of seconds he fell back into sleep. Hours passed. Every so often, Jarvas's body would twitch as a result of his nerves reacting to the muscle rebuilding process. Irvine looked over to Anubis and Ride and nodded, and they left the room to go elsewhere on the ship. As Marley and Irvine removed needles from his body they placed them into a small basin filled with a sterilizing fluid. Marley yawned and rubbed sweat from getting into his eyes, his forehead reflecting the fluorescent light. Irvine looked up to him and cracked his knuckles.
"We have a lot of work to do still," he said to him in an assuring tone.
Marley nodded and looked down at Jarvas, who was still asleep. "How much longer you think this is gonna take?"
"An hour or two maybe. The hard part's over. All we have to do is get the rest of these needles out, and then work on the plugs."
"The plugs..." Marley said in a mumble, as if he had something against them. Irvine raised a brow.
"What's the matter?"
"They look freaky."
Irvine gave him a look that said "Don't go there." Marley chuckled and shook his head. "Come on let's finish this guy up." And so they continued working, and it took them two more hours to finish. After removing all of the accupuncture pins, they moved on to working on the plugs all over his body. This included closing up every plug on his body, except for the one located on the back of his head. The reason for this was to stop anything from getting into his blood stream that shouldn't have been there and to prevent infection. When they finished, they covered him up in a cloth to keep him warm and left him sleeping on the table. The rest of the crew was busy attending to ship maintenance, monitoring sentinal activity, attending to themselves, whatever they could do to keep themselves busy, while Irvine and Marley did the surgery. When they came out of the room, they met on the main deck. Here, the floor was made out grated metal. Wires and conduits were all over the place. The ran across the floor, they ran along the walls, they hung from the ceiling, from the bridge up above that was part of the upper level of the ship. There were pipes everywhere. Metal supports all over the place, and they all had a burnt or tarnished look. Pipes were all over, huge pipes connected by flanges or thin pipes connected with through welding. The main stucture was the core. Every chair from which someone would sit in to be jacked into the Matrix was wired to this core. Several monitors were attached to it, about four per chair, and with these came a keypad, for keying in certain modifcations and configuration set ups. Not far off from the core was the Operator's station, a plethora of monitors and several keyboards all conencted together by many wires. It was a mess. But a clean mess at the same time.
"How's he doin'?" Blade asked, crossing his arms and standing tall. Here in the real world his hair was more normal looking, and he wore a dark grey sleeveless shirt and dark brown combat pants and the black boots. Everyone had black boots, it went without saying. His eyes were grey, and he tilted his head slightly.
"He's alright now. His vitals are normal and he's doing okay. We still have to put some clothes on him and put him into his bed." Irvine answered.
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