Restitution

 

Chapter Nine: Regroup

 

-

 

It had been a few years since Alan had last ridden a motorcycle and the controls of this light bike was similar to the cycles he rode back in the Real World. It took only a few seconds for him to become familiar with the maneuvers.

“Like a bicycle,” Alan cried out as he and Janelle turned the corner on the street. They came to a stop.

“No it’s not,” Janelle said. Her voice was shaky. “Not like riding a bicycle. It’s much more exciting than that.”

“I meant it was like when you haven’t ridden one in a while and it comes back to you.”

“Yeah. I guess. Would you believe that was my first time on a bike?”

He shrugged. “Not bad for a first timer.”

A third motorcycle pulled up next to them. It was the man, or program that Alan had watched battle in the male arena. That man seemed to have started out with Janelle’s tactic of just destroying the other disks but something had changed inside him. The colored lights on his armor had turned red and he played to kill. His lights where white again.

“You made it,” the program said. He had Alan’s voice. “I wasn’t sure if you knew how to ride.”

“I haven’t for a while,” Alan answered. “Just had to get back in the saddle.”

“When did you learn?” the program asked.

“Long time ago,” Alan said as he remembered when Flynn taught him how to ride. “A friend showed me how.”

“Mr. Flynn?” Janelle asked.

“He was the one,” Alan nodded. “He taught me and I taught Sam.”

“Son of Flynn,” the third member of their party said. “Flynn was my friend.”

“Both of our friends.” Alan studied him. The program sounded like him and was the same height as him. They even have the same kind of armor and minimal amount of lights. There were the curve like dashes on each side of his chest, the two dashes that were close together at his mid section, the circular lights that were on the more central part of his chest, on his abdomen, the opposite side of his elbows and on his knees. The only difference was the formation of lights near the center of his upper chest. Instead of an “A” with a number one underneath there were four squares in the shape of a “T”. “They said your name was Tron?”

“Correct.”

“My Tron?” Alan waited for the program to answer. He spoke again when Tron didn’t reply. “Are you the Tron I created nearly thirty years ago or not?”

Tron lowered his head. “We should go before they find us.”

“We got to go back for Legion,” Janelle said.

“Who is Legion?” Alan asked. “Another program?”

“Sort of,” Janelle said. “He’s a friend of ours.”

“He’s a sentient merger of bits,” Tron answered. “We’ll go back for him. Stay close to me.”

Alan rode his bike close behind Tron and made sure Janelle kept up with them. He wondered why Tron was not answering his questions, why would he not want to speak with Alan, his creator? Did Tron hate him for some reason? He wanted to speak with Tron to see what was wrong, but he also wanted to know more about this Janelle program.

They were not able to reach the place this Legion was located. There were several soldiers milling about trying to capture someone who was trying to fight back. Through the small crowd, Alan could see a silver figure with a humanoid face as it lashed at it’s oppressors

“Legion,” Janelle gasped as she got off her bike.

“Stay where you are,” Tron ordered.

“They have Legion. We have to help him.”

“We can’t just rush off into the fray. We will get caught.”

“But we can’t just leave him.” She finished her dismount.

“Janelle, stop,” Alan commanded. He couldn’t believe he was addressing he by that name. “Tron has a point.”

“We have to go,” Tron said as he pointed to the sky. Another of the large flying aircraft was heading their way.

“We will rescue your friend,” Alan told her.

Janelle frowned and she had a layer of tears on her eyes, but she hopped back onto her bike.

The three of them started the power and rode away from the area.

 “Follow me,” Tron instructed and turned his bike to the left.

Alan followed after, not sure where they were going or what they were going to do, but the one thing he wanted was some answers.

-

Regor swallowed deeply. His master was not going to be pleased with the fact that the Users and Tron had escaped. It was bad enough that the security programs of the resistance had kept the firewall strong. Osiris was very displeased with the fact that the User, Janelle had rejected him in the fashion that she had.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he knocked at the door of his master’s private chamber.

“You may enter,” Osiris said in a cool and low tone. He was watching a view screen of a black and white images with text. Those visuals came from a News Site. What was Osiris doing by accessing the Web?”

Regor entered and bowed before his lord. “I bring you bad news.”

“Let me guess,” Osiris said. He did not turn around to look at him. “You let them escape.”

“I’m sorry master,” Regor said. He knew it would be foolish to argue with his leader about semantics. He knew he did not let anyone get away. “We have a captured an SBM.”

“I have little concern for those, even if they are indeed rare.”

“He mentioned two of the names,” Regor said. He was proud the caught one that was no more than 64 bits merged together. “He kept on repeating Janelle and Tron.”

“He would know where they have gone,” Osiris said.

“I know you kept a close eye on the girl,” Regor said. “But you should have seen the Program named Tron. He is a well skilled combat warrior. Far more powerful than any security program that we already have. I’d wager he is even more powerful than a security program of the enemy.”

Osiris finally smiled. “He would be worthy addition to our side. Do you think he can be repurposed?”

“I know he can,” Regor said with complete confidence. He had watched as Tron got lost in the game and how the color of his lights had shifted color.

“This is fascinating,” Osiris said as he turned back to the visuals. “The User Janelle Harper is dead, has been for quite some time.”

“She’s derezzed?” Regor asked. “That was what the other User had said.”

“Drowned is what the report says,” Osiris confirmed.

“She seemed alive to me.”

“Agreed.” Osiris nodded. “Show me the ENCOM security tapes. The same images again and at the same speed.”

Regor watched the screen as what had to be a User get up and leave a room. The User looked like he was walking but he moved at much faster speed. The light outside the window dimmed as the image had static lines ride up now and then. Another User appeared in the doorway for a few Nanoseconds and left.

“Stop,” Osiris ordered. “Go back to frame 1675.” The screen visual rewound itself until the User appeared again. “Stop.” The image froze with a female User standing in the doorway. “Look Familiar?”

“Almost,” Regor said as he studied the figure. She wasn’t very tall and she did have dark red hair, was wearing a purple gown and looked dripping wet.

“Go in closer,” Osiris commanded. The image of the User enlarged until she became more recognizable. “Now?”

“The derezzed User,” Regor said when he recognized her.

“She was in that doorway and gone within only a few nanoseconds,” Osiris said. “No User can move that fast, no living one, unless she wasn’t visible for most of the time.”

“Users can’t do that, can they?”

“Not the living ones.” Osiris stood up and walked away from his chair. “Not everyone believes in Users. From what we have learned from the Web we found out that Users have their beliefs and many may doubt the existence of many things that others believe in.” He stopped in front of Regor. “I believe we have come across one of them.”

Regor nodded. He wasn’t sure what he had just heard, but he did not want to appear like a fool.

“You do not understand what I am talking about?” The master placed his hand through his bangs.

“I must admit that I do not, master.”

Osiris sighed. “I had thought so.” He cleared his throat. “What we have in the system is a spiritual entity. What many believe is the only remains of a User after they have been killed, their soul. A free floating soul has several names, spirit, phantom, phantasm, specter, but the most popular name is ghost.”

“Why would you want a dead User?”

“She did not feel dead and she had abilities that would benefit us. She may not be solid out in the User world but here she is. Out there she is invisible, but here she is seen and most importantly, I can see her and I will have her.”

“If she is unseen outside then how did she show up on camera?”

Osiris grabbed his forehead. “She was only on camera for a few seconds. I have already told you that. I should be thankful that your User has some intelligence.”

“Max Ricker is one of the most intelligent and cunning Users out there,” Regor said, his voice full of pride. “He has hacked into many systems and has never been caught.”

Osiris nodded. “Do you know what your orders are?”

“Seek and find Tron and the Users.” Regor said.

“Good, you are dismissed.”

Regor gave him one last bow before he left to begin the hunt.

-

While they rode, Alan took the time to enjoy the view as they traveled through streets. Cyberspace really was a place of beauty. He should have listened to Flynn. He might have been able to rescue him from the Grid earlier. He could had made a difference twenty years ago.

“So we are heading back to the energy spring,” Janelle said as they drove into a cavern.

“Energy spring?” Alan asked.

“It’s good for what ails you from what I’ve seen,” she answered.

They parked their bike next to the bank of an underground pond. As soon as they had dismounted the bikes disappeared leaving behind the batons. Alan watched as Tron clipped his against his leg and followed suite.

 The water was bright aquamarine in color and shone with a beautiful luminescence. Alan disembarked from his bike and watched as Tron and Janelle crouched near the edge and brought up fistfuls of the water to their heads.

Might as well give it a try. Alan could see what this Tron looked like but as he crouched down next to the program he saw that Tron had his helmet back on. Alan took a few sips. The liquid was refreshing and sweet. He took another drink. This time he felt a perk in his body, more powerful than a good nights rest, a cup of strong coffee, and a hearty meal put together.

“Too bad we can’t get some of this out there,” Janelle said once she was done. “It could serve as a miracle cure all.”

“Who are you,” Alan asked her. She looked and sounded like Janelle Harper, but she couldn’t be her. It was time he got some answers.

“Mr. Bradley it is me,” Janelle said. “I’m Janelle Marie Harper.”

“You are a program that looks and sounds like her.”

“You never got rid of that old air popper in your office,” the female program said. “I lost my first tooth on the popcorn made from it years ago. I know that annoying feeling of bits of popcorn getting stuck between your teeth and rubbing against your gum. It’s stuck right there when you can’t get it out with a fingernail and it is so annoying. You try with a toothpick and then you use dental floss, which is what you should use in the first place.”

“I know that feeling,” Alan said slowly. She did not talk or sound like a program to him.

“Toffee and Butterfingers taste so good but they get stuck in your teeth. I usually eat them with an apple because, hey nature’s toothbrush. It tends to get that gunk out. If I were going to eat fruit and candy it would be strawberries dipped in chocolate, no wait, strawberries dipped in Nutella. That was the best stuff ever. I miss tasting it.”

She grabbed at his hands and stared deep into his eyes. “You were wearing a hunter green tie to my funeral. It wasn’t too dark or too bright. It was ninety degrees that day and you prayed in hopes that where I went to would be comfortable”

“Yes I was and I did.”

“At my casket you whispered ‘I miss you, little spark,’ and you asked why did I have to go.” She closed her eyes. “I didn’t want to go.”

Alan could no longer keep back the tears. He pulled her into his arms and held her.

“You still wear Gray Flannel.”

“How?” He asked. “How is this possible?”

“I never left. My spirit never left. I’m the ghost of ENCOM.”

“That was, I mean that is you? Why are you haunting us?”

“I wasn’t haunting you. I was watching over you. I only haunt and scare and have my poltergeist moments with jerks like Junior. I was always watching over you, Daddy, Adrian and now Sam.” She held out her arms. “It takes a lot but I can move objects and make myself appear for a few seconds visually, even on camera.”

“Were you the one controlling the temperature before we were brought over here?” Alan asked. Things were starting to click. “You were trying to warn us.”

“I tried to keep you from being brought here. I tried to warn you of what Junior had planned.”

“I’m starting to see what he hoped to accomplish,” Alan said as the pieces fell into place. “He was hoping to use it as a cover so he could steal some important files, just like his father did, or he unleashed something that only he had the means of taking care of. He’ll remove the corruption, everything will go back online and he will look like a big hero.”

“That’s it?” Janelle sounded like she knew there was more to the story.

“He will have the backing of the board. Most of the people there do not like me. I have your father and Karen to back me up and Sam, but after this he will appear as the kid who does not have any idea of what he’s doing. Young Dillinger will have everyone’s votes. The will listen to him more and more and I’ll be voted out same as Sam, and possibly your father and Karen.”

“I learned CEO’s could be voted out of power thanks to shareholders, even powerful ones like Michael Eisner.” She sighed. “I wish I could have found a way to communicate with you sooner.”

“You wrote that note.”

“Not much good that did.”

“Don’t say that,” Alan told her. He had yet to let her go from his embrace. “Because of you we were able to save one third of the system, because of your warning Adrian is still out there.” His eyes widened. “Adrian is still out there. If we can get a message to him he can upload his software to the system.”

“That could work,” Janelle agreed. “Tron can show us—“

“No.” Tron had been silent until now. “I’m going to help find the portal so you can return to the Real World and that is it.”

“You are going to need Adrian’s help,” Alan told him. “You won’t be able to save this system on your own.” Flynn had told him that it was a combined effort of both Tron and Flynn that took out the MCP.

“I didn’t say I was going save this system.” Tron said.

“You are not going to do anything?” Janelle asked

“I will fight for the Users and get you home,” Tron said. “And that is it.”

“That is not the Tron from the stories I have heard about,” Janelle said.

“Maybe he isn’t,” Alan said. This didn’t sound like the program he wrote.

“But he looks like you.”

“Is that why he refuses to face me?” Alan asked. “Show me your face.”

The program growled and turned away.

“Tron-Ja-307020,” Alan said using his best father-scolding-a-child tone. “Don’t you walk away from me.” He grabbed his shoulders.

Tron did not throw him off, nor did he attack. He just sighed. “I can’t face you. I’m a disappointment.”

“You have never disappointed me.”

“That’s because you don’t know the truth. I am not the same. I failed in fighting the enemy. I did not prevent him from committing genocide. I did not stop him from repurposing me.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Tron,” A voice that sounded like it had belonged to Kevin Flynn had said. “You fought and resisted harder than anyone. I’m still proud to call you my friend.”

“Kevin?” Alan looked around him and saw no one. “Where are you?”

“Here,” Flynn answered. “With you guys.”

“He has been guiding me,” Tron explained.

“He’s like what I was,” Janelle said with an admiration. “A non-corporeal entity.”

“Got that right, Miss,” Flynn answered. “Alan, man, how did you get in here?”

“A viral program named Osiris seized control of the laser and brought me here,” Alan explained. “Me and Janelle.”

“Janelle?” Flynn asked. “Bobby Harper’s little girl?”

“That is me,” Janelle said. “Or one of us. I do have a sister.”

“You have grown up into a beautiful young woman. How have you been?”

“Dead,” Janelle answered. “I drowned five years ago.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Flynn’s voice was crestfallen. “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. You should still be alive.”

“So should you,” Alan said and heard Tron sigh again.

“I lived my life,” Flynn said. “I got old, lived my dream, well mostly. The best dream was that my son would grow up and be strong and happy and he is.”

“Maybe you can talk some sense into Tron,” Janelle said.

Alan nodded. He had to explain. “Ed Dillinger’s son had helped create a viral Program and paid someone on the outside to upload it into the system. A friend of ours created a software that can get through and stop the infection and help cure it.”

“You need to get to the nearest I/O tower to get a message out to your friend,” Flynn finished. He understood everything. “Tron, we been through this before.”

“It won’t change the past,” Tron said.

“The past can’t be changed,” Alan said. “Whatever you have done in the past it is there. You can talk to me about it later, if and when you are up to it, but right now we need you.”

“Who do you protect?” Flynn asked. “Who do you fight for.”

Tron inhaled deeply. “For the Users.”

“Great, now knock off that woe is me act and take of the mask.”

Another sigh and the helmet looked like it melted away. .  Tron had the same hair style as Alan did back in the early 80’s with the same part in the left. His lips were pressed firmly without allowing any emotion through, but his eyes revealed how he truly felt. His blue eyes were filled with grief and guilt, but there was also the hint of admiration.

Alan felt his jaw drop. It was like looking an old photo that was taken of him decades ago “There,” Janelle said. “Someone that good looking shouldn’t keep their face hidden like that.”

Alan looked at her and then at Tron who smiled for a second and then turned away.

“Nearest I/O tower it is then,” he said.

“First the Babbage theater house,” Flynn said. “Find Pollux. I’ll give you the coordinates.”

-