-
Once again Alan found himself alone. Kevin excused himself to speak with his son and Quorra, and Tron walked off to another part of the Sailer. Janelle was probably in the same location as before where she was still hiding.
“Might as well see what they are doing,” Alan said as he stood up. “Once this mess gets fixed, I’m going to have to come back here. I have to show this to Lora and Jet.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Kevin’s voice was heard from behind him.
“Why isn’t a good idea?” Alan asked. “And why are you back here?”
“Figured I give the kids some alone time,” Kevin answered. “This place isn’t safe.”
“Not now it isn’t, but once we destroy this Osiris and his army it would be peaceful.”
“Until something else shows up.”
“ENCOM’s systems were free from the MCP for nearly thirty years.”
“There will always be something.”
“Why are you being so pessimistic?” Alan stared at the space where he imagined his friend’s spirit was floating. “You were always ecstatic about this world. You tried to tell Lora and me about it. You told it to our kids. This place is gorgeous and once we get rid of Osiris we will have people lining up to visit this place, if they knew about it.”
“They can’t know.”
“Not everyone,” Alan said. There were a lot of people in the real world who were corrupt and would try to twist and reshape the Grid to suit their purposes. “These places just need tougher security. Sam, Adrian and I and whole team could develop stronger security programs and now that my Tron is fixed he could train them and lead them.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe?” Alan asked and pointed at the space. “It wasn’t Tron’s fault that he became corrupted.”
“No it wasn’t,” Kevin sighed. “It was my fault. Clu was all my fault.”
“Damn it, Kevin Flynn get a hold of your spiritual self. I have had it with everyone blaming themselves. It’s not Tron’s fault he became this Rinzler, it’s not Janelle’s fault that she died and it certainly isn’t your fault that Clu turned against you.” Alan turned around and exhaled deeply through his nostrils.
“Alan?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. I hadn’t gone through a bout of self-doubt in a while.”
“Don’t mention it.” Alan decided to check in on Janelle.
“No thank you for everything,” Kevin said as his voice followed him behind. “I never thanked you for helping to raise Sam.”
“Don’t need to mention it. What were you talking about with Sam and Quorra?”
“Making repairs to the grid and add a few things that I wanted to add, like a moon and stars and then a sun. They brought up the fact that that we could use an artist.”
“They do tend to see things that the rest of us don’t.” Alan paused when he saw that Janelle was no longer hiding and was standing next to Tron.
“Were you the one that taught him to ride?”
“Taught him everything that you told me,” Alan said and focused on his Tron and Janelle. He listened as Janelle sang about being a pirate’s life and watched as Tron just stared at her with a bemused smile.
“What is she singing?” Kevin asked. “I know heard that before.”
“It’s from Pirates of the Caribbean.”
“The ride?”
“And the movies.”
“The movies?” Kevin asked in a you-got-to-be-kidding-me tone. “They made a movie based on the ride?”
“Three movies,” Alan answered. “In fact the fourth one is coming out this upcoming summer.”
“Man.”
“It surprised me.” Alan turned back to face them.
“How long?” Janelle asked. “How long have you both been listening?”
“Just now,” Alan answered.
“She was singing about User pirates,” Tron explained. “They stole from other Users, but this was long ago before programs.”
“Back in the pre-cyberian days,” Janelle confirmed. “Sorry. I don’t know what we should call it.”
“Pre-cyberian works,” Kevin said.
“She was also going to sing songs by the User called Joss Whedon,” Tron explained.
“From that one episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” Alan asked. He never really got into the series but he did know of the musical episode.
“Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” Kevin asked in the same tone he used when he heard about the Pirate movies. “What kind of name of a series is this, unless it’s a cartoon.”
“Not a cartoon,” Janelle said as she cast an annoyed glance at what she had to have thought to be Kevin’s direction.
“You are not one to talk,” Alan said. “You did name your most ground breaking game, Space Paranoids.”
“Yeah, but that’s a different.”
“How?” Alan asked as the same time as Janelle and Tron had.
“Not important,” Flynn said. “We are docking.”
“Alan,” Quorra ran up to them. “Sam is getting the clearance to enter. We all have to be present.”
“Do we need any pass codes?” Tron asked.
“Not when we have three Users with us,” Quorra answered.
“More like four,” Alan said. “They won’t know that, but it’s true.” He followed after the kids with the certainty that is friend was following.
-
They had gotten to the Solar Sailer simulator too late. Tron and the Users had already left leaving only a couple of workers at the platform.
Osiris left his ship along with Regor and walked around the platform. He stared at the two workers who were held back by the guards. He stared past the dock and out at the Sea of Simulation.
“Your new master wants to know if you sent out a Sailer, recently,” Regor said as he glared into the eyes of the frightened workers.
“We sent several out in the past cycle,” one of the workers said.
“Did you send any out after we went into lock down?” Regor asked and held up his own disk.
“We received notice of lock down after the last sailer was sent out.”
“You are not answering what I’m asking,” Regor said as he tapped his disk on one of the shoulder’s of the workers.
“We are answering everything,” the other worker said.
“Regor,” Osiris said in an exasperated tone. “The reason they are not answering the question properly is because you not asking the right question.” He marched right up to the workers and grabbed one by the neck. “Have you seen any Users recently and have you given them controls to a Sailer?”
“Users?” One of the workers blinked. “Users don’t come down here.”
“Five of them,” the other one said.
Osiris straightened himself and looked at the worker who was willing to talk.
“Five Users?” Regor asked.
“What are you doing?” The talker’s co-worker asked. “You never betray Users.”
“None of them are my User,” the talker said.
“That’s besides the point.”
“I aint getting derezzed.”
“Where are they?” Osiris asked.
“You heard your master,” Regor said. “Now where are there five Users?”
“That is not important,” Osiris snapped. Regor had to ask stupid questions at the worst time.
“I don’t know if all five were Users,” the talker said. “The young male with blond hair said he was one.”
“What did they others look like?” Regor asked and did not seem to notice as Osiris was glaring at him in frustration.
“Two others were male. If they both were Users then one was the father of the other. The other two were female. One had short dark hair and the other had dark reddish brown hair.
“It’s them.”
“I’m glad we have that confirmed,” Osiris said in a sarcastic tone. “Since there are hundreds of Users in the system.”
“When did they leave?” Regor asked.
“110 nanoseconds ago.”
“Jokes on you,” the non-talker said. “They have made it past the Firewall. They are safe.”
“So it would appear,” Osiris said as he walked on the deck of the platform. He stared out across the Sea and back at his minion
“Master?” Regor looked at him with a malicious glint in his eyes. “Should we have them de-rezzed?”
“No,” the talker said as he tried to break free. “I told you everything. Spare me at least.”
“You see?” The other one stared at him in disgust. “Ratting out the Users got you nowhere.”
“No one is getting derezzed,” Osiris said as he studied the controls. “Repurpose them. They both will be more useful for me when they give me the password to get through the Firewall.”
“Why repurpose?” Regor asked as he pointed at the talker. “This one is willing to tell us what we want to know.”
“And you think he is going to talk now?” Osiris asked. He was going to have a small word with his number one about being to hasty with the threaten to de-rezz. “By repurposing we will have a guarantee that they will tell us everything we want to know.”
“Even with the password you still won’t get in,” the non-talker said. “Do you think they will let you in looking like that?”
Osiris glanced down at himself. “You do have a point. If we looked like the ones that belong then we will get in.”
“Master?” Regor stared at him.
“Disguise,” Osiris tried to explain. “We will pretend what we are not. That theater owner has proved himself somewhat useful by giving me the idea.” He turned back to the Sea.
Something floated towards him, something tiny and twinkling. He reached out and caught it. It was a fleck of data. Osiris looked up and saw more.
“What is our next move?” Regor asked.
“Work on getting the password and disguising our soldiers,” Osiris ordered as he grabbed another fleck. “Once we have it we will send a group to the firewall. You will be with them. I will follow close behind.”
“Yes, master,” Regor said as he bowed. “I do have a questions, master. Why haven’t we tried this before?”
“We been making attempts with the sailer and the wall. Who do you think we have been fighting?” How could his minion have forgotten so soon that their forces had to right against countless other programs who had blocked off the sailer ports for cycles?
“I’m sorry, master.”
“One more thing,” Osiris said as held up the flecks.
“Yes, Master?”
“Help me catch more of these.” He held out the flecks to his minion. “They will prove to be useful.”
-
Tron kept his guard up, even though they were in the part of the system that was secure. He had taken notice that all security programs had blue light of various tints and shades and they were jus casual as they walked by and glanced at the citizens.
The rest of the programs were more out in the open and more relaxed than those with in the corrupted part. Several were talking about joining up with the outsiders of a different Grid and fighting along the side of the User. Others just wanted to stay where it is safe and not have to worry about being forced in any games or being rectified.
“They don’t understand,” Quorra said as they passed by another group that only wanted to hide and stay hidden. “They can’t hide forever. They just can’t depend on others to fight for them.”
“Not everyone is a fighter,” Sam told her.
“Where are we going?” Alan asked. “Where are these fighters that we are to join up with?”
“We are going to Codebreakers,” Sam explained.
“What’s that?” Alan asked him.
“A night club,” Sam explained. “Before dad told us to go into the corrupted area we were looking for Arc. He’s a recruiter of sorts.”
Codebreakers was packed with hundreds of programs that were either talking, drinking, or dancing or both. With this amount of programs that usually meant trouble as far as Tron was concerned.
“Where will we find this Arc?” Tron asked as several female programs smiled at him. He ignored them.
“Arc said he will find us,” Sam answered as he looked up and down and all around.
“I hope it will be soon,” Tron answered. He didn’t like this place. He nearly bumped into two female programs who were chatting with each other. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” the program said and turned back to her friend. “I can’t believe Dal is going out with Zasa. Doesn’t he know how User friendly she is? He’s more than likely going to catch a virus from her.”
Tron fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He could not believe how superficial these programs were behaving. Did they not realize how close they were to danger. They either had a great deal of faith in the Firewall or they did not care.
“Hey I know this song,” Janelle said as a new song changed. “They are playing our songs.”
“User music,” Quorra said with a smile. “Sam, let’s dance.”
“Now?” Sam raised his brows.
“Yes.” She grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the dance floor.
“I need a dance partner,” Janelle said as she grabbed Tron’s hand. “I haven’t really danced in years.”
“I don’t dance,” Tron told her. There was a time when he used to, but that was a long time ago.
“Oh fine.” She turned to Alan. “Would you like to dance?”
“Not my kind of music,” Alan said before he nodded at Tron. “You dance with her.”
“Are you certain?” Tron blinked.
“Just one song. I promise.”
“Just one song.” He was going to hold her to that. He followed her to the dance floor and tried to mimic the moves she was doing. It had been far too long and he was certain he looked ridiculous.
“That was fun,” Quorra said when the song was over.
“We need to resume or search for this Arc,” Tron said and headed off the dance floor. He couldn’t believe he was roped into dancing.
“We should get some drinks for everyone,” Quorra said and headed straight for the bar.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Janelle told her.
“Well what do we have here?” A male program asked in an arrogant tone. He had just turned around from the table he was at and came face to face with Janelle. “You have an acute appearance.”
“Thanks?” Janelle said.
“Haven’t seen you around the system before,” the young program said. “Have you just recently been written and formatted?”
Tron did not like the way that the male was speaking to Janelle. Neither did Alan who was also glaring at his direction.
“Is he bothering you?” Quorra asked Janelle.
“Ah you have a friend,” the arrogant program said with a big smile on his face. “Also quite lovely.”
“I can handle this,” Janelle said to the ISO before she turned to the program. “Sorry but I’m not interested and my friend is seeing someone.”
“Don’t have me written off so soon,” the program said. “I’m called Kash. My User is the head of Sales at ENCOM.”
“And?”
“I’m able to process money orders faster than any other program in sales,” Kash said.
“Whoop-de-do,” Janelle said and turned to walk away.
“Don’t walk away from me,” Kash said and stepped in front of her.
“I told you I’m not interested,” Janelle stepped past him. “Now log off.”
“Oh come on.” Kash grabbed her by the arm. “There is this great private place off grid where-“
Quorra smacked his hand away from the User’s arm. “Didn’t you hear her?”
“Yeah,” Janelle added. “Go derezz in a firewall.”
“No program talks to me that way.”
“I got news for you pal. I’m no program. I am a User.”
“Leave her alone,” Alan said as he stepped in between them. “I know who your User is and he is just as pompous as you.”
“Step back you worn out-“ Kash didn’t get to finish his sentence.
Tron struck him hard in the face, knocking the program out. He looked up and saw several angry programs, more than likely friends of Kash.
“Get him,” one of them said.
“Fight,” someone else screamed.
Tron blocked their fists and struck back. He ducked and dodged their attacks.
“Son of a bitch,” Sam said as he joined the fray and struck another program in the face. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”
“Neither did I,” Tron said as he ducked another fist. He was trying to avoid using his disks. He was relieved to not feel Rinzler trying to resurface. Alan had fixed him.
Out of the corner of his eye Tron saw another program, clad in a large white robe, as he jumped and somersaulted around the room. The robed figure struck at several of the programs, instantly knocking them out. He moved with the strength and the grace of a security program.
The fight had ended within a few nanoseconds. Several of the rowdy programs including Kash and his friends were knocked out. Quorra was standing over one with her disk in hand. Alan was rubbing the side of his head and Janelle was rubbing her knuckles.
“What happened?” The robed figure asked in a deep voice.
“That’s what I want to know,” Sam said.
“Kash was trying to hit on a newly formatted program,” the bartender said and pointed at Janelle “She was clearly not interested.”
The robed figure nodded. He walked over to Janelle and studied. “She is not a program.” He waited until the crowd had stopped gasping. “She is a User.”
“How do you know?” Janelle asked.
“Because I heard you tell Kash.” He pulled back his hood revealing a bald head. “I am Arc.”
-