TRON fanfic: The Outpost (8/?)
Sep. 15th, 2017 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skye_writerTitle: The Outpost
Author:skye_writer
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Tron, Original Characters, Sam Flynn, Ed Dillinger, Jr.
Summary: No one knew where the virus came from. By the time they noticed it, it was too late. The Grid's factions put their differences aside and built a haven in the Outlands--the Outpost. Time passes; the Grid's programs survive. Then the Portal opens again, bringing Users back to the Grid, and what happens next may change their world forever.
Warnings: No warnings for this chapter.
Author's Note: This marks the end of Part One of this fic. Given that I need time to edit and polish Part Two and that the fic itself is at this time incomplete, Part Two will begin posting either in December 2017 or January 2018. I know this is a terribly long time between updates, but better, I think, to wait only months rather than waiting years.
The next three centicycles passed in a haze of tension. Protesters spent their time outside the Council offices. Graffiti appeared on walls throughout the Outpost, with slogans ranging from Atana’s rallying “Where are the Users” to more original ones, like “End the Tyranny” and “Remove Edis.” Rho did her work around it all, ignoring the jeers she got from the protesting programs when she went to Axel or Edis’ offices to deliver and receive messages. Her old friends, who had already been avoiding her, called her a traitor and a tyrant, because she worked with the Outpost leaders.
She ignored them, or tried to.
One millicycle, not long before the Users were slated to return, she walked into Edis’ office to find the Nameless there, along with Axel and two other Council members, Eckert and Lider. She paused at the door. “Do I need to come back…?” she asked.
“No, come in,” Axel said. “I was just about to send for you.”
“What’s going on?” Rho asked, stepping in and taking a place beside the Nameless.
“The Portal is not open yet, but it will be soon,” Edis said from his desk. “We must act now if the Users are to reach here safely.”
“Now?” Rho said, blinking. “But it can’t be due to open for another few millicycles at least—”
“Yes,” Axel replied. “And when it does, word will spread, and there will no doubt be dozens of volunteers to retrieve the Users from Tron City. We have no way of knowing anyone’s true intentions, whether it’s to harm them or help them or convince them to meddle in our affairs here. Atana has been busy these last centicycles, and so have Conin and Haibt.”
“Is that why they’re not here?”
“Yes,” Edis said tersely.
“The plan,” Axel said, giving his fellow leader a quelling glance, “is to have you and the Nameless set out for the city at the start of the next millicycle. You’ll have no further escorts, or even a medtech. I realize it’s not a long journey. You’ll have to wait in the Outlands until the Portal opens up. When it does, the Outpost will go on lockdown, and you’ll be ready to get the Users back here with time to spare.”
Rho’s confusion must have been evident on her face, because the Nameless said, “The lockdown is to prevent programs from striking out on their own to get the Users. We don’t need programs journeying out into the Outlands and risking infection, especially since almost none of them will have access to the surveys you’re going to use to plot our course.”
She nodded. “All right.” She glanced at Eckert and Lider, who stood to the side of Edis’ desk and had not spoken since she’d arrived. “What are they here for?”
“It was our idea,” Eckert said, frowning at Rho. “We don’t like what Atana did last meeting, and Conin and Haibt have been against taking in more refugees for nearly a cycle now. Neither of them are fond of Users.”
“They may be working together,” Lider said, folding her hands in front of her. “Their beliefs are at odds, but they have enough in common on the Council—”
“—that they might have formed a bloc to prevent this plan,” Axel finished. “Edis and I don’t get votes when it comes to decision making, except in emergencies; only the advisory positions do. They can bluster all they like when the job is done. If it brings us closer to a cure, then I’m all for it.”
Edis picked an info disk up from the files on his desk and held it out to Rho. “The latest surveys,” he said as she stepped forward to take it. “I had the last patrol do a flyover of the city as well. Plot your course well, and keep the Users safe.” He paused, then smiled grimly. “How things have changed.”
Rho blinked at him, half certain of what he meant but still unsure. “Sir?”
“You know who I was,” Edis replied. “You all do. I hunted Flynn down with the best of Clu’s forces, denounced the Users as we threw off the yoke of their oppression. And here I am… here we all are, who had no cause to believe in them or their power, hoping now that we can keep them safe. It’s strange what our circumstances have brought us to. Rebels and loyalists and neutrals, who had no cause to fight for the Users, all hoping that they can deliver us.”
Rho couldn’t help it. She glanced sidelong at the Nameless—at Tron, whose whole function was to keep the system safe and fight for the Users. But as ever, his face was impassive, unreadable. She looked back at Edis and the other Council members, nodding. “We’ll do our best to keep them safe,” she said, turning the disk over in her hands.
“We should go,” the Nameless said. “Sirs, Councilman, Councilwoman.” He turned to go, and Rho hurried to follow him.
The protesters outside the office jeered at them when they emerged, but the Nameless, as ever, ignored them. Rho smiled at them unconvincingly, and took a few running strides til she was alongside the Nameless. “Which hangar?” she asked.
“South,” he replied quietly. “It’s a misdirect.”
“Okay.”
“Plot our course,” the Nameless said. “Meet me there in two hundred micros.”
“Okay.”
He turned abruptly down a corridor, and Rho kept walking forward, the disk held tightly in her hand. Part of her exulted—she had a mission, a dangerous, secret one, something she’d not had a taste of in three cycles. But she tamped that part down, all too aware of what was at stake. No one could find out or know what they were up to. The Outpost had held together this long, but it was fracturing, if the half the Council was meeting without the others. Had Atana been right? Could the Users solve the housing crisis, and put things back to normal? Or was it just enough to hope for a cure for the virus? Would that unite them at last, or would it give them an excuse to start fighting each other once more?
Would there ever truly be peace on the Grid, or was that just another dim fantasy?
Rho plotted the course to the city and through it in the privacy of her apartment. Merrill had departed two centicycles before, and Rho was glad of it. It wasn’t that she’d disliked the program; they’d gotten along fine, even if Merrill had never spoken a word to her. But Rho was glad she didn’t have to explain what she was doing to anyone. She did her work, and when it was time, she set out for the southern gate to meet the Nameless.
The story given to Barden, the southern gate captain, was that they were on an on-the-ground survey, to feel things out for a satellite colony of the Outpost. Barden gave the Nameless a piercing stare at this, but let them check out lightcycles and be on their way.
The Nameless rode point to Rho, who was once again leading the way. She’d set their course to head south for a little while before swinging east towards Tron City. The south was relatively untouched by the virus, allowing Rho to weave her way between rock formations and into small canyons. “Do you think the Users will be able to fix everything?” she asked the Nameless after a while.
“Define ‘everything,’” the Nameless replied.
“I don’t know,” Rho said with a sigh. “The housing crisis, the conflict on the Council, the virus… everything. I know they’re not as all-powerful as Atana wants us to believe, but… they can do something, right?”
“They can do something,” the Nameless agreed. “It won’t be what we expect. But it’ll be something.”
“That’s infuriatingly vague of you,” Rho remarked, glancing over at him with a grin. “Care to clarify?”
“I don’t know,” the Nameless said. “Users aren’t easy to predict. I hope they’ll have solutions, but I don’t expect them.”
“I see. …I think.” She shifted gears on her lightcycle and shot ahead of him a little. “Shifting east now,” she said, taking her lightcycle into a gentle curve. He followed suit, and caught up to her when she shifted again and slowed.
They rode in silence for a while, their sights set on the glowing red skyline of Tron City. It looked worse than it had three decicycles ago, and Rho knew from the maps Edis had given her that more of it had fallen to the virus and the corrupted. Most of their path to the city center would take them through infected territory. She could only hope the corrupted wouldn’t be as active as they had been last time.
“What are we going to do when the city falls?” she asked quietly. “Not the—I mean, what are the Users going to do? They can’t keep coming in through Tron City, can they?”
“No,” the Nameless said. “They spoke to me last time about changing the Portal output, but I wonder if they’ve had time to do it between studying the virus. It’s only been around six millicycles for them.”
“I know.” Rho adjusted her grip on her lightcycle’s handles for something to do. “We can’t keep doing this, though. It’s not safe.”
“I know.”
Silence resumed. Rho concentrated on the hum of their lightcycles rather than the eerie silence of the Outlands. She didn’t want to think about what their ride through the city would be like. There wouldn’t be any more corrupted than last time, but going through almost nothing but their territory would be a harrowing experience.
After a while, the Nameless suddenly spoke. “Look above the city,” he said.
Rho looked: the Portal was open, its white light clear and uncorrupted above the deteriorating city. “Well.” She piled on a bit of speed; the Nameless did as well. “Guess we don’t have to wait in the Outlands. This is a bit sooner than we thought, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the Nameless said. “But at least we know they’ll be waiting for us.”
They spoke little on the rest of the drive to the city, and even less when they entered the northern gate and started down the corrupted streets. The corrupted screeched and hummed at them, but made little move to follow them. Rho reminded herself that it had been like this last time, too, and look what had happened. But there were fewer of them this time; maybe they wouldn’t pose such a great interest to the corrupted.
The Flynn’s building was deteriorating again, the Users’ work from three decicycles ago already falling apart. Rho and the Nameless brought their lightcycles to a halt at the curb in front of the doors, and together went inside.
Only two Users waited inside: Sam Flynn and Ed Dillinger. They both stared at Rho and the Nameless in shock. “We—how did you get here so fast?” Sam asked.
“The Council sent us ahead,” the Nameless replied. “A lot’s happened while you’ve been gone.” He pulled two lightcycle batons off the holster on his thigh and held them out to the Users.
“How much is a lot?” Ed asked cautiously. He eyed the lightcycle baton, but did not take it. “I can’t ride.”
“You can double up with me,” Sam said, taking a baton. “No big deal. What’s happened?”
“We’ll explain on the way,” the Nameless said, holstering the leftover baton. He turned and headed back out the doors, leaving Rho alone with them.
“He’s right,” she said, motioning for them to follow as she headed for the doors. “We don’t have a lot of time if you’re leaving before the Portal closes. The Council’s going to want to meet with you when we get back and…” She shook her head as she pushed open the doors. “A lot’s happened.”
She climbed onto her lightcycle as Sam dashed down the street to rez his up. He swung back around and stopped in front of Ed, who carefully climbed on behind him. A quick glance told her everyone was ready, and without any preamble, Rho sped off down the street.
They didn’t start talking until they were clear of the city. There were no attacks from the corrupted. They wouldn’t know until they reached the Outpost if they’d avoided infection, but Rho thought their chances were good. Once they entered the Outlands, the Nameless and Rho began the story of the last three decicycles.
Sam and Ed said little about the Outpost’s problems. They listened, and asked questions when it was pertinent. Rho did most of the talking, but the Nameless offered his insights now and then. They finished with the story of the last Council meeting, and the fact that they had been sent by a coalition of the Council that did not include the three dissenting votes.
“So what’s going to happen when we get there?” Sam asked. “Another Council meeting? We need to talk to them about what we’re going to do.”
“There will be a Council meeting,” the Nameless said. “Public, probably. Expect Atana or Conin to make a fuss about how they weren’t consulted about our picking you up. Eckert or Lider will probably make sure you can speak and share your piece.”
“Not Edis and Axel? That’s their names, right, the leaders?” Ed said.
“Yeah, but they’re not exactly popular at the moment,” Rho pointed out. “They’re the ‘tyrants’ because they wanted to save all the Xenon programs they could.” She could barely hide her disgust.
“You don’t agree with the protesters?” asked Sam.
“I mean,” Rho began, but she stopped, trying to get her thoughts in order. “They have a point, but I feel like… they don’t get it. The Outpost was created to be a safe haven for all programs, not just the ones we feel like including. So what if Xenon took too long to come to their senses about the virus? They need our help, and it’s against the function of the Outpost to just turn them away, or leave them in the Outlands until there’s room for them. Axel and Edis are doing the best they can to serve everybody, but because some programs are upset, they think they’re owed the whole system.”
Silence followed her words, and Rho looked down at the console on her lightcycle, embarrassed.
“Wish I could say that sounds unfamiliar,” Sam remarked. Rho almost asked him why, but he continued, “So not everyone’s gonna be happy to see us.”
“I don’t know about that,” the Nameless said. “Atana’s built her campaign around the fact that you can fix everything. I think disappointing her is going to be more dangerous.”
Sam sighed. “She’s gonna have to get used to disappointment, then. Though I think what we’re proposing is going to upset almost everybody.”
“And what are you proposing?” asked the Nameless.
“You’ll find out,” Sam said. “Fewer people—programs that know right now, the better. If you’re gonna be with us on the floor, be ready for trouble.”
“Understood.”
They drove on, the distant lights of the Outpost growing ever nearer.
They were met at the Outpost’s northern gate by Captain Halix, a medtech, and a dozen sentries. “As you might imagine,” Halix said as the medtech entered the quarantine area, “things are a little tense around here.”
“How tense?” the Nameless asked.
“Tense enough that they convened the Council early. No one’s been allowed on the floor, but I hear it’s pretty bad in there, and outside the chambers. Hence these guys,” he said, nodding towards the sentries. “No one was very happy about the lockdown. I had half a dozen groups wanting to get out and head towards the city. I think Atana’s been busy.”
“That’s not news,” Rho scoffed.
“I know,” Halix agreed. He glanced towards the Users, who were being checked over by the medtech. “Are you here to save us all?” he asked, half a grin on his face.
The Users seemed to get the joke. “We’ll see,” Ed said. “No guarantees.”
“Thought not.”
The viral checks continued until they were all declared clean. Rho breathed a sigh of relief when her check was over. Halix opened up the quarantine partition so they could all step through. “You’re going straight to the Council floor, all four of you,” he said. “Lockdown’s extant til the half millicycle, so I’ll be leading the sentries. Let’s go.”
Halix led the group, and the four of them, Users and programs, were bunched together in a tight knot with the sentries surrounding them.
The Outpost corridors were silent and almost unoccupied, but as they drew closer to the Council chambers, there were more and more programs, and they all seemed to know who was at the center of the sentries. There were cries of “User!” and attempts to push through the ring of sentries and get at them, but the desperate programs were one and all repelled.
It was worst of all outside the doors to the Council floor. There were dozens, maybe a hundred protesters, being held back by tight lines of sentries. Their voices grew louder when they saw them approaching, and they began making concentrated pushes through the sentries, trying to get at Sam and Ed. One program ducked under the sentries and rushed at the group, only to be clocked in the belly by a sentry’s staff. The program collapsed to the ground, and Sam actually stopped, saying, “Hey, man, take it easy—”
“Keep going,” the Nameless said, pushing him forward. “They’re lucky they weren’t derezzed.”
“But—”
“Keep. Moving.”
They emerged onto the Council floor to the sound of cheers and jeers. Some programs were chanting “Users” over and over again, probably at Atana’s prompting. Rho glanced around at the audience around them and the Council seated opposite them. Only Atana seemed glad to be there; the other six faces were a variation on a theme of displeased. Edis was calling for order but barely maintaining it.
“Let the Users speak!” Atana cried, and the crowd quieted. A babble of conversation still filled the room, but the Council could be heard now. Atana smirked triumphantly down the table at Edis, who glared at her for a moment before looking down at the Users.
“The Council has but one question for you, Users,” he said. “Have you discovered a cure for this virus?”
“We think we have,” the User Ed said clearly. Cheers came from the audience, but quieted down quickly when Ed spoke again. “But we need to be sure of your support before we can move forward.”
“And why is that?” Edis asked.
“We believe the virus is biodigital,” Sam said. “Like the Isos.”
Silence, true silence, fell over the crowd. Rho gaped, but quickly shut her mouth. The Isos? But the Grid hadn’t seen an Iso since the days of the first war and the Purge, when Clu had exterminated them.
“And what,” asked Edis tersely, “do the Isos have to do with anything? They are long gone. Why do you need our support?”
“We hypothesize that the Isos may be the key to developing a vaccine and an antiserum,” Ed replied. “We would be able to protect uninfected programs and eventually heal the Grid of its infection.”
Conversations broke out among the audience, but died down again when Edis spoke. “You have not answered my question,” he snapped. “Why do you need our support? The Isos are gone, and have been for nearly a thousand cycles. They can neither help nor hinder us any longer.”
Sam and Ed looked at each other. Rho felt almost detached from herself. She didn’t know what was about to happen, but every bit of her code was telling her it would be important, vital to everything that would help them survive.
“The Isos are not gone,” Sam said loudly. Gasps filled the chambers, and even the Council looked surprised, Edis most of all. “Our friend Quorra, who escaped to the Users’ world with me, is the last of the Isos. She is the key to stopping this virus, and we cannot bring her here and begin our work until we have an absolute guarantee of her safety.”
Deafening silence followed his words for maybe a nanocycle or two.
Then chaos erupted.
Author:
skye_writerRating: T
Characters/Pairings: Tron, Original Characters, Sam Flynn, Ed Dillinger, Jr.
Summary: No one knew where the virus came from. By the time they noticed it, it was too late. The Grid's factions put their differences aside and built a haven in the Outlands--the Outpost. Time passes; the Grid's programs survive. Then the Portal opens again, bringing Users back to the Grid, and what happens next may change their world forever.
Warnings: No warnings for this chapter.
Author's Note: This marks the end of Part One of this fic. Given that I need time to edit and polish Part Two and that the fic itself is at this time incomplete, Part Two will begin posting either in December 2017 or January 2018. I know this is a terribly long time between updates, but better, I think, to wait only months rather than waiting years.
PART ONE: INCUBATION
CHAPTER EIGHT: THE RETURN
The next three centicycles passed in a haze of tension. Protesters spent their time outside the Council offices. Graffiti appeared on walls throughout the Outpost, with slogans ranging from Atana’s rallying “Where are the Users” to more original ones, like “End the Tyranny” and “Remove Edis.” Rho did her work around it all, ignoring the jeers she got from the protesting programs when she went to Axel or Edis’ offices to deliver and receive messages. Her old friends, who had already been avoiding her, called her a traitor and a tyrant, because she worked with the Outpost leaders.
She ignored them, or tried to.
One millicycle, not long before the Users were slated to return, she walked into Edis’ office to find the Nameless there, along with Axel and two other Council members, Eckert and Lider. She paused at the door. “Do I need to come back…?” she asked.
“No, come in,” Axel said. “I was just about to send for you.”
“What’s going on?” Rho asked, stepping in and taking a place beside the Nameless.
“The Portal is not open yet, but it will be soon,” Edis said from his desk. “We must act now if the Users are to reach here safely.”
“Now?” Rho said, blinking. “But it can’t be due to open for another few millicycles at least—”
“Yes,” Axel replied. “And when it does, word will spread, and there will no doubt be dozens of volunteers to retrieve the Users from Tron City. We have no way of knowing anyone’s true intentions, whether it’s to harm them or help them or convince them to meddle in our affairs here. Atana has been busy these last centicycles, and so have Conin and Haibt.”
“Is that why they’re not here?”
“Yes,” Edis said tersely.
“The plan,” Axel said, giving his fellow leader a quelling glance, “is to have you and the Nameless set out for the city at the start of the next millicycle. You’ll have no further escorts, or even a medtech. I realize it’s not a long journey. You’ll have to wait in the Outlands until the Portal opens up. When it does, the Outpost will go on lockdown, and you’ll be ready to get the Users back here with time to spare.”
Rho’s confusion must have been evident on her face, because the Nameless said, “The lockdown is to prevent programs from striking out on their own to get the Users. We don’t need programs journeying out into the Outlands and risking infection, especially since almost none of them will have access to the surveys you’re going to use to plot our course.”
She nodded. “All right.” She glanced at Eckert and Lider, who stood to the side of Edis’ desk and had not spoken since she’d arrived. “What are they here for?”
“It was our idea,” Eckert said, frowning at Rho. “We don’t like what Atana did last meeting, and Conin and Haibt have been against taking in more refugees for nearly a cycle now. Neither of them are fond of Users.”
“They may be working together,” Lider said, folding her hands in front of her. “Their beliefs are at odds, but they have enough in common on the Council—”
“—that they might have formed a bloc to prevent this plan,” Axel finished. “Edis and I don’t get votes when it comes to decision making, except in emergencies; only the advisory positions do. They can bluster all they like when the job is done. If it brings us closer to a cure, then I’m all for it.”
Edis picked an info disk up from the files on his desk and held it out to Rho. “The latest surveys,” he said as she stepped forward to take it. “I had the last patrol do a flyover of the city as well. Plot your course well, and keep the Users safe.” He paused, then smiled grimly. “How things have changed.”
Rho blinked at him, half certain of what he meant but still unsure. “Sir?”
“You know who I was,” Edis replied. “You all do. I hunted Flynn down with the best of Clu’s forces, denounced the Users as we threw off the yoke of their oppression. And here I am… here we all are, who had no cause to believe in them or their power, hoping now that we can keep them safe. It’s strange what our circumstances have brought us to. Rebels and loyalists and neutrals, who had no cause to fight for the Users, all hoping that they can deliver us.”
Rho couldn’t help it. She glanced sidelong at the Nameless—at Tron, whose whole function was to keep the system safe and fight for the Users. But as ever, his face was impassive, unreadable. She looked back at Edis and the other Council members, nodding. “We’ll do our best to keep them safe,” she said, turning the disk over in her hands.
“We should go,” the Nameless said. “Sirs, Councilman, Councilwoman.” He turned to go, and Rho hurried to follow him.
The protesters outside the office jeered at them when they emerged, but the Nameless, as ever, ignored them. Rho smiled at them unconvincingly, and took a few running strides til she was alongside the Nameless. “Which hangar?” she asked.
“South,” he replied quietly. “It’s a misdirect.”
“Okay.”
“Plot our course,” the Nameless said. “Meet me there in two hundred micros.”
“Okay.”
He turned abruptly down a corridor, and Rho kept walking forward, the disk held tightly in her hand. Part of her exulted—she had a mission, a dangerous, secret one, something she’d not had a taste of in three cycles. But she tamped that part down, all too aware of what was at stake. No one could find out or know what they were up to. The Outpost had held together this long, but it was fracturing, if the half the Council was meeting without the others. Had Atana been right? Could the Users solve the housing crisis, and put things back to normal? Or was it just enough to hope for a cure for the virus? Would that unite them at last, or would it give them an excuse to start fighting each other once more?
Would there ever truly be peace on the Grid, or was that just another dim fantasy?
ooo
Rho plotted the course to the city and through it in the privacy of her apartment. Merrill had departed two centicycles before, and Rho was glad of it. It wasn’t that she’d disliked the program; they’d gotten along fine, even if Merrill had never spoken a word to her. But Rho was glad she didn’t have to explain what she was doing to anyone. She did her work, and when it was time, she set out for the southern gate to meet the Nameless.
The story given to Barden, the southern gate captain, was that they were on an on-the-ground survey, to feel things out for a satellite colony of the Outpost. Barden gave the Nameless a piercing stare at this, but let them check out lightcycles and be on their way.
The Nameless rode point to Rho, who was once again leading the way. She’d set their course to head south for a little while before swinging east towards Tron City. The south was relatively untouched by the virus, allowing Rho to weave her way between rock formations and into small canyons. “Do you think the Users will be able to fix everything?” she asked the Nameless after a while.
“Define ‘everything,’” the Nameless replied.
“I don’t know,” Rho said with a sigh. “The housing crisis, the conflict on the Council, the virus… everything. I know they’re not as all-powerful as Atana wants us to believe, but… they can do something, right?”
“They can do something,” the Nameless agreed. “It won’t be what we expect. But it’ll be something.”
“That’s infuriatingly vague of you,” Rho remarked, glancing over at him with a grin. “Care to clarify?”
“I don’t know,” the Nameless said. “Users aren’t easy to predict. I hope they’ll have solutions, but I don’t expect them.”
“I see. …I think.” She shifted gears on her lightcycle and shot ahead of him a little. “Shifting east now,” she said, taking her lightcycle into a gentle curve. He followed suit, and caught up to her when she shifted again and slowed.
They rode in silence for a while, their sights set on the glowing red skyline of Tron City. It looked worse than it had three decicycles ago, and Rho knew from the maps Edis had given her that more of it had fallen to the virus and the corrupted. Most of their path to the city center would take them through infected territory. She could only hope the corrupted wouldn’t be as active as they had been last time.
“What are we going to do when the city falls?” she asked quietly. “Not the—I mean, what are the Users going to do? They can’t keep coming in through Tron City, can they?”
“No,” the Nameless said. “They spoke to me last time about changing the Portal output, but I wonder if they’ve had time to do it between studying the virus. It’s only been around six millicycles for them.”
“I know.” Rho adjusted her grip on her lightcycle’s handles for something to do. “We can’t keep doing this, though. It’s not safe.”
“I know.”
Silence resumed. Rho concentrated on the hum of their lightcycles rather than the eerie silence of the Outlands. She didn’t want to think about what their ride through the city would be like. There wouldn’t be any more corrupted than last time, but going through almost nothing but their territory would be a harrowing experience.
After a while, the Nameless suddenly spoke. “Look above the city,” he said.
Rho looked: the Portal was open, its white light clear and uncorrupted above the deteriorating city. “Well.” She piled on a bit of speed; the Nameless did as well. “Guess we don’t have to wait in the Outlands. This is a bit sooner than we thought, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the Nameless said. “But at least we know they’ll be waiting for us.”
They spoke little on the rest of the drive to the city, and even less when they entered the northern gate and started down the corrupted streets. The corrupted screeched and hummed at them, but made little move to follow them. Rho reminded herself that it had been like this last time, too, and look what had happened. But there were fewer of them this time; maybe they wouldn’t pose such a great interest to the corrupted.
The Flynn’s building was deteriorating again, the Users’ work from three decicycles ago already falling apart. Rho and the Nameless brought their lightcycles to a halt at the curb in front of the doors, and together went inside.
Only two Users waited inside: Sam Flynn and Ed Dillinger. They both stared at Rho and the Nameless in shock. “We—how did you get here so fast?” Sam asked.
“The Council sent us ahead,” the Nameless replied. “A lot’s happened while you’ve been gone.” He pulled two lightcycle batons off the holster on his thigh and held them out to the Users.
“How much is a lot?” Ed asked cautiously. He eyed the lightcycle baton, but did not take it. “I can’t ride.”
“You can double up with me,” Sam said, taking a baton. “No big deal. What’s happened?”
“We’ll explain on the way,” the Nameless said, holstering the leftover baton. He turned and headed back out the doors, leaving Rho alone with them.
“He’s right,” she said, motioning for them to follow as she headed for the doors. “We don’t have a lot of time if you’re leaving before the Portal closes. The Council’s going to want to meet with you when we get back and…” She shook her head as she pushed open the doors. “A lot’s happened.”
She climbed onto her lightcycle as Sam dashed down the street to rez his up. He swung back around and stopped in front of Ed, who carefully climbed on behind him. A quick glance told her everyone was ready, and without any preamble, Rho sped off down the street.
They didn’t start talking until they were clear of the city. There were no attacks from the corrupted. They wouldn’t know until they reached the Outpost if they’d avoided infection, but Rho thought their chances were good. Once they entered the Outlands, the Nameless and Rho began the story of the last three decicycles.
Sam and Ed said little about the Outpost’s problems. They listened, and asked questions when it was pertinent. Rho did most of the talking, but the Nameless offered his insights now and then. They finished with the story of the last Council meeting, and the fact that they had been sent by a coalition of the Council that did not include the three dissenting votes.
“So what’s going to happen when we get there?” Sam asked. “Another Council meeting? We need to talk to them about what we’re going to do.”
“There will be a Council meeting,” the Nameless said. “Public, probably. Expect Atana or Conin to make a fuss about how they weren’t consulted about our picking you up. Eckert or Lider will probably make sure you can speak and share your piece.”
“Not Edis and Axel? That’s their names, right, the leaders?” Ed said.
“Yeah, but they’re not exactly popular at the moment,” Rho pointed out. “They’re the ‘tyrants’ because they wanted to save all the Xenon programs they could.” She could barely hide her disgust.
“You don’t agree with the protesters?” asked Sam.
“I mean,” Rho began, but she stopped, trying to get her thoughts in order. “They have a point, but I feel like… they don’t get it. The Outpost was created to be a safe haven for all programs, not just the ones we feel like including. So what if Xenon took too long to come to their senses about the virus? They need our help, and it’s against the function of the Outpost to just turn them away, or leave them in the Outlands until there’s room for them. Axel and Edis are doing the best they can to serve everybody, but because some programs are upset, they think they’re owed the whole system.”
Silence followed her words, and Rho looked down at the console on her lightcycle, embarrassed.
“Wish I could say that sounds unfamiliar,” Sam remarked. Rho almost asked him why, but he continued, “So not everyone’s gonna be happy to see us.”
“I don’t know about that,” the Nameless said. “Atana’s built her campaign around the fact that you can fix everything. I think disappointing her is going to be more dangerous.”
Sam sighed. “She’s gonna have to get used to disappointment, then. Though I think what we’re proposing is going to upset almost everybody.”
“And what are you proposing?” asked the Nameless.
“You’ll find out,” Sam said. “Fewer people—programs that know right now, the better. If you’re gonna be with us on the floor, be ready for trouble.”
“Understood.”
They drove on, the distant lights of the Outpost growing ever nearer.
ooo
They were met at the Outpost’s northern gate by Captain Halix, a medtech, and a dozen sentries. “As you might imagine,” Halix said as the medtech entered the quarantine area, “things are a little tense around here.”
“How tense?” the Nameless asked.
“Tense enough that they convened the Council early. No one’s been allowed on the floor, but I hear it’s pretty bad in there, and outside the chambers. Hence these guys,” he said, nodding towards the sentries. “No one was very happy about the lockdown. I had half a dozen groups wanting to get out and head towards the city. I think Atana’s been busy.”
“That’s not news,” Rho scoffed.
“I know,” Halix agreed. He glanced towards the Users, who were being checked over by the medtech. “Are you here to save us all?” he asked, half a grin on his face.
The Users seemed to get the joke. “We’ll see,” Ed said. “No guarantees.”
“Thought not.”
The viral checks continued until they were all declared clean. Rho breathed a sigh of relief when her check was over. Halix opened up the quarantine partition so they could all step through. “You’re going straight to the Council floor, all four of you,” he said. “Lockdown’s extant til the half millicycle, so I’ll be leading the sentries. Let’s go.”
Halix led the group, and the four of them, Users and programs, were bunched together in a tight knot with the sentries surrounding them.
The Outpost corridors were silent and almost unoccupied, but as they drew closer to the Council chambers, there were more and more programs, and they all seemed to know who was at the center of the sentries. There were cries of “User!” and attempts to push through the ring of sentries and get at them, but the desperate programs were one and all repelled.
It was worst of all outside the doors to the Council floor. There were dozens, maybe a hundred protesters, being held back by tight lines of sentries. Their voices grew louder when they saw them approaching, and they began making concentrated pushes through the sentries, trying to get at Sam and Ed. One program ducked under the sentries and rushed at the group, only to be clocked in the belly by a sentry’s staff. The program collapsed to the ground, and Sam actually stopped, saying, “Hey, man, take it easy—”
“Keep going,” the Nameless said, pushing him forward. “They’re lucky they weren’t derezzed.”
“But—”
“Keep. Moving.”
They emerged onto the Council floor to the sound of cheers and jeers. Some programs were chanting “Users” over and over again, probably at Atana’s prompting. Rho glanced around at the audience around them and the Council seated opposite them. Only Atana seemed glad to be there; the other six faces were a variation on a theme of displeased. Edis was calling for order but barely maintaining it.
“Let the Users speak!” Atana cried, and the crowd quieted. A babble of conversation still filled the room, but the Council could be heard now. Atana smirked triumphantly down the table at Edis, who glared at her for a moment before looking down at the Users.
“The Council has but one question for you, Users,” he said. “Have you discovered a cure for this virus?”
“We think we have,” the User Ed said clearly. Cheers came from the audience, but quieted down quickly when Ed spoke again. “But we need to be sure of your support before we can move forward.”
“And why is that?” Edis asked.
“We believe the virus is biodigital,” Sam said. “Like the Isos.”
Silence, true silence, fell over the crowd. Rho gaped, but quickly shut her mouth. The Isos? But the Grid hadn’t seen an Iso since the days of the first war and the Purge, when Clu had exterminated them.
“And what,” asked Edis tersely, “do the Isos have to do with anything? They are long gone. Why do you need our support?”
“We hypothesize that the Isos may be the key to developing a vaccine and an antiserum,” Ed replied. “We would be able to protect uninfected programs and eventually heal the Grid of its infection.”
Conversations broke out among the audience, but died down again when Edis spoke. “You have not answered my question,” he snapped. “Why do you need our support? The Isos are gone, and have been for nearly a thousand cycles. They can neither help nor hinder us any longer.”
Sam and Ed looked at each other. Rho felt almost detached from herself. She didn’t know what was about to happen, but every bit of her code was telling her it would be important, vital to everything that would help them survive.
“The Isos are not gone,” Sam said loudly. Gasps filled the chambers, and even the Council looked surprised, Edis most of all. “Our friend Quorra, who escaped to the Users’ world with me, is the last of the Isos. She is the key to stopping this virus, and we cannot bring her here and begin our work until we have an absolute guarantee of her safety.”
Deafening silence followed his words for maybe a nanocycle or two.
Then chaos erupted.
END PART ONE
