TRON Fanfic: The Outpost (10/?)
Mar. 31st, 2018 12:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: The Outpost
Author:
skye_writer
Rating: T
Characters: Tron, Sam Flynn, Ed Dillinger, Jr., Quorra, OCs
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.
Author Notes: Apologies for not updating last month. Hoping to maintain a monthly update schedule into the future. Thanks, as ever, for reading.
The Nameless knew better than most which parts of the Outpost tended to be deserted. He took Ed and Sam a long and winding way, but eventually they made their way to the western vehicle hangar. Karpin, the captain there, eyed the Users suspiciously as the Nameless explained their purpose. “I’ve heard no word of this,” he said with a sneer. “Last orders from the Council were to keep the gates on lockdown.”
“That was to prevent anyone from going to get the Users,” the Nameless explained. “As you can see, they’re here now.” Karpin only narrowed his eyes, and the Nameless fought down an urge to sigh. “If you don’t believe me, then get General Edis on a comm line and ask.”
Karpin’s suspicion morphed into self-satisfied smugness. “I think I will. None of you move.” He stepped away from his console post and picked up his comm, standing some distance away so he couldn’t be overheard.
After a ten micro chat on the comm, Karpin returned looking a great deal less smug. “You’re free to go,” he growled.
“Thank you,” the Nameless said. He waved at Sam and Ed to follow him, and together they crossed the hangar and exited into the Outlands.
“What was his problem?” Sam asked as they walked.
“He served Clu,” the Nameless remarked, which more or less covered everything.
“Ah.” Sam shook his head. “I kind of figured, but.”
They walked for about sixty micros in silence before the Nameless stopped. They had reached a flat area of land, a little rough underfoot but otherwise a worthy foundation. “This should be a good place,” he said to them. “There’s less viral spread to the west, and the plans for the new apartments extend this way.”
“All right,” Sam said. “Let’s get started.” He clapped his hands together, then strode forward a few paces and knelt to open a panel of code on the ground. Ed joined him there, and work on the I/O tower commenced.
The Nameless watched patiently as the Users worked. They clearly were both novices at this, but Flynn had been, too, in those early days of the Grid. Sam and Ed managed to clear an area around them, smoothing the rock into a glassy floor. The three-dimensional aspects of building, however, eluded them. Walls flickered in and out of existence as they disagreed on the shape of the building. For a brief and beautiful moment, the light of connection between this world and the one beyond shone brightly, but it faded as the connection was lost in another argument.
Finally, the Nameless said, “Stop.”
The two Users looked up at him.
“You—” He stopped himself, not sure if it was his place to say anything. The Grid had never seen an I/O tower, because it had never needed one. Flynn was the system’s only User, and Clu existed so problems could be dealt with while Flynn was home in his own world. The Nameless hadn’t seen the inside of an I/O tower since Flynn had transferred him to the Grid. He wanted—no, he needed them to get it right.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he said.
Sam’s mouth crooked in half a smile, but Ed looked slightly annoyed. “How are we doing it wrong?” he asked. “No offense, but you’re a program—what do you know about writing code?”
“Not much,” the Nameless admitted. “But I saw Flynn work in here more times than I care to count. Writing code on the Grid is… different from what I suspect you’re used to. Flynn told me it was more about guiding his feelings and trusting himself than mechanically writing it down. And…” He bowed his head, unable to look at them. “If you’re going to open this I/O tower, you need to get it right.”
“Right how?” Sam asked.
“”The I/O towers…” He struggled for the right words; how could he explain this to a User? “They were the beacons of a free system. Where programs went when they felt their User’s call. I—you knew you were part of something greater, that everything you knew—” He closed his eyes, raising his head as he remembered DuMont and the words of the guardians. “ ‘All that is visible must grow beyond itself, and extend into the realm of the invisible.’
“They called us fanatics for believing in the Users. Master Control did. But then Flynn came and showed us how right and how wrong we were. He freed the system. We could contact our Users again, follow our functions as they were meant to be. And then Flynn returned, and brought us here.”
One of them said something, but he didn’t hear.
Then Sam said, “Tron?”
He blinked; it all rushed back. Sam and Ed both stared at him. Sam looked a little concerned. “Don’t call me that,” the Nameless snapped. “I don’t deserve that name.”
“Because of what Clu did to you?”
The Nameless turned away, and no one spoke any further. A micro later, Ed spoke quietly to Sam, and their work began anew.
The wind whipped around them, whining a little in his ears. Sam knew what he was, what he’d done. All that violence in the name of Clu. He had nearly killed Sam on the games grid, those cycles ago. Only his underlying directive, the fundamental part of his code that even Clu couldn’t override, had saved Sam’s life. He may have tried to stop Clu over the Sea, but it hadn’t been enough. And four cycles of working to undo the evil he’d wrought as Rinzler were not near enough atonement for a thousand spent as Clu’s enforcer. The programs and Isos he’d derezzed, both on the games grid and off it… even he didn’t know how much death he’d been responsible for.
He didn’t deserve the name Tron. Not now, and maybe not ever again.
The I/O tower gleamed from within and without. It stood tall and proud, though not as large as the towers the Nameless remembered. Those great cathedrals to a world unseen were lost to him now, but he suspected this substitute would do its work admirably. Sam had constructed most of the building, using a combination of written code and the awkward hand-waving Flynn had often employed while exercising his User privileges. The tower had shimmered into existence around Sam and Ed, but it had not felt truly complete until the connection to the world outside caught light, giving it a life of its own in the Nameless’ eyes.
Now Ed crouched before the doors of the tower, and Sam walked over to where the Nameless watched. “Ed’s setting the tower as the Portal’s new output point,” he explained. The Nameless nodded, not looking at Sam or even Ed. He stared above the tower, where the connection’s bright light sent a thin beam into the sky.
“Are you all right?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine,” the Nameless said.
“You haven’t said anything since I mentioned Clu,” Sam pointed out. “Are you sure you’re not—”
“Sam,” the Nameless warned, turning his head to glare at him.
Sam held up his hands. “All right, all right. Fair enough, I did bring him up in the first place.” He sighed. “I just—I don’t understand. Why don’t you want anyone to know who you are?”
“I told Quorra this the last time you were here,” the Nameless responded. “Did she not tell you?”
“It’s only been two days on our side,” Sam reminded him. “And we spent most of the poring over code. It didn’t come up.”
“Do you really think Tron would be welcomed back with open arms, the way things are right now?” the Nameless asked. “And if it got out who I was before the Departure, what then? There’s probably not a program in that Outpost who didn’t lose someone they knew to Rinzler.”
“Fair point,” Sam admitted. He turned his attention back to Ed and the tower. “Did we do a good enough job for you? I tried to keep what you said in mind, but I’m not much of an architect…”
“It’s…small,” the Nameless said, “but the connection is bright and strong. It’ll serve.”
“Glad you like it, then.”
The Nameless only nodded in response. He saw Sam looking at him sidelong, as if trying to will him to talk, but neither of them spoke any further. Sam walked back over to where Ed was working. “How’s it coming?” he asked.
“Nearly got it,” Ed replied. “Your father’s code is a mess, by the way, and so’s most of this place. Stream of consciousness coding is not the way of the future, I don’t think.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Eddie boy.”
“Don’t call me that,” Ed said, annoyed. “And I think I’ll pass on that offer.” He prodded the code beneath his fingers a few more times, then closed out the panel of code, apparently satisfied with his work. “It should be set,” he said, getting to his feet. “Go ahead and give Alan the all-clear.”
The Nameless grew very still. “Are you talking about Alan_1?” he asked quietly.
Sam and Ed both turned to look at him. Ed said, “The Alan who looks just like you, but older? Yeah.”
The Nameless’ hands clenched into fists at his sides. “He is my User.”
“We know,” Sam said.
Can I please contact him? The words were there, at the edge of his lips, but he couldn’t form them. It was too much to hope for, that he could contact his User again for the first time in over a thousand cycles. That he could hear his User’s voice and feel his presence and know that he had purpose and directive again. He felt as though Alan_1 was the only one who could grant him the absolution he sought, to tell him that what he had done as Rinzler had not been his fault. But it was too much to ask, truly, and it was not why they were here.
“The connection is good,” he said instead. Sam and Ed exchanged a look, but said nothing. “Do you know how to encode a message on your disc?”
“No,” said Sam.
“I”ll show you.” Sam pulled out his disc and opened it as the Nameless approached. He walked Sam through accessing the disc’s output and the encoding of a message. “You need to hold your disc into the column of light,” he explained as Sam closed out his disc. “Your message will be carried up to… to the User waiting for it. Any further messages will be relayed to you then. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding. “Let’s do this.” He gripped the Nameless’ shoulder briefly, then walked past Ed with another nod and stepped into the I/O tower.
“Should we go in with him?” Ed asked.
The Nameless shook his head. “It’s a small tower,” he said. “It’s… a private kind of ceremony. Though different since Sam is a User. I… wouldn’t feel comfortable…”
“I understand,” Ed replied. “I think.” He considered the Nameless for a moment, then said, “It’s almost like a religious experience for you guys, isn’t it? Talking to your creator. Only here I guess your creator can talk back.”
The Nameless allowed himself a small smile. “Quorra said something about Users believing they had a User of their own, who had a plan for them.”
Ed shrugged. “Yeah, people believe in a god or gods. I guess it makes some people feel better about the sheer randomness of life. It’s not really my thing, but I’m not one to judge.”
They lapsed into silence. The Nameless stared at the I/O tower, trying not to think of what was going on inside at this very moment, but doing nothing but. He was so close to a connection with his User, with Alan_1, and yet… he couldn’t let himself do it. He had been without a User this long. He could and would survive. But there was a connection now, a tether to the world beyond that the Grid had never seen. And perhaps, in the future, there would be a chance, some small moment he could steal away and try to contact Alan_1.
But not now.
Thirty micros the Nameless spent thinking about the tower, the light, and Alan_1. Over and over he imagined what he would say, what he wanted Alan_1 to say back. Sometimes he gave himself forgiveness; other times, it was judgment. He could not predict what Alan_1 would really say, though; he had never met his User, and his actions were as inscrutable to him as they had been on the Encom system. So he ran through the scenarios and outcomes again, never satisfied with his imaginings.
He almost started when the tower’s doors opened again, and Sam stepped out. “So?” the Nameless said.
“Quorra’s on her way,” he said, walking up to where Ed and the Nameless waited. “Alan says they’ve got to reset the laser, but it shouldn’t take much more than a minute out there. No idea what the conversion rate is, though. It may be a while.”
They waited in silence for a little while, but then Sam spoke again. “Where are we going to be staying while we’re here?” he asked the Nameless. “I know space is tight, but I don’t want anyone losing a place because of the three of us—”
“I’m sure Edis and Axel are working on it,” the Nameless replied. “We’ll report back to them when we return to the Outpost. I take it you’ll need a workspace as well?”
“Probably,” Ed said. “At least when we’ve isolated Quorra’s immune code and begun to copy it.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” the Nameless said, looking away at the tower again, “what is this immunity you two keep talking about?”
“It’s part of how User bodies work,” Sam said. “We—I mean, this is seriously watered down, like layman’s terms, but—we have a system in our bodies, our blood, that identifies things that aren’t supposed to be there, like viruses. It fights them off, and learns how the virus or whatever works, so it can fight it off the next time it infects us. There are some viruses that change too rapidly for the immune system to really work against them, but those are usually survivable. The really bad stuff is what we have vaccines for. They introduce a weak or dead form of the virus, so the immune system can learn what it is and fight it off it if ever shows up for real.”
“Our theory,” Ed continued, “is that programs don’t have any sort of immune system. Quorra is a program, but she’s also… alive, in a way you guys aren’t. Our DNA, our code, is a double helix. Hers is triple helical. We don’t even really know what she is, except for a totally new form of life.” He glanced at Sam. “And Sam doesn’t want to tell anyone about her, even though a single vial of her blood could probably revolutionize modern medicine.”
“And get her locked up in a government lab for the trouble,” Sam said sourly. “We tell people about her on our terms, not theirs.”
“If she survives this adventure of ours.”
“Yeah. If.”
The wind picked up suddenly, and there was a sharp, clean scent in the air; a growing light blossomed by the I/O tower. They all turned to look as Quorra manifested before them, appearing first as mere shadow, before taking on more solid form. After half a micro, the wind dropped, the light faded, and Quorra stepped back as if she’d received a blow. She looked up and saw them, then smiled.
Sam crossed the space between them in a nano, pulling Quorra into a quick embrace. “Good to see you,” he said. “You ready?”
Quorra backed out of his arms, her expression serious now. “How did they take the news?”
“Not well,” the Nameless said. “It’s a sixty micro walk back to the western gate. We’ll fill you in on the way. There’s more happening here than just your arrival.”
“All right,” Quorra said with a nod. “Lead the way.”
They set off together, and the Nameless explained everything that had happened in their absence, and then the disastrous Council meeting and its aftermath.
“How are we going to stay safe?” Quorra asked at the end of it, when they were in view of the western gate. “I trust you, but you’re only one program. Are there others you trust that you can bring in?”
“The basic sentries will be a help,” the Nameless said. “They’re written to do the Council’s will, and their will is to keep you safe. I can find personal escorts for each of you. Probably.”
“Probably is only a little reassuring at the moment,” Quorra replied. “I can defend myself well enough, but I’d like a beam sword if they can spare one for me.”
“I’m sure they can,” he said. “Programs might object to your being armed, though.”
“Programs already object that I exist,” Quorra remarked. “I’m not doing this for their gratitude. This system is worth saving, even if it doesn’t want me here.”
“I understand,” said the Nameless. They walked on, heading over and down a ridge that led to the Outpost’s perimeter road. Once they ascertained no one was coming, they crossed the road and entered the quarantine chamber of the western gate.
Karpin waited for them there, a medtech and several sentries behind him. “That the Iso?” he asked sharply, nodding at Quorra. She held his gaze as he glared at her; he looked away first.
“She is,” the Nameless confirmed. “I trust you know the Council’s will regarding her?”
“Heard it wasn’t the full Council’s will,” Karpin grumbled.
“The majority’s will is still the Council’s will,” the Nameless said. “Would you defy them?”
Karpin scowled, then punched the panel that opened the chamber doors, allowing the Nameless and the others in, as well as the medtech from the other side. “I won’t say I’m happy about it,” he remarked, still scowling. “I heard they put you in charge of protecting her. Tell me, Nameless, how are you going to protect her from half the programs in this Outpost? They’d all like to see her bits spilled out on the ground.”
The Nameless stared at Karpin a moment, trying to decide how best to proceed. He was a former loyalist, of course, as his red circuitry proclaimed to all who saw him. It was also readily apparent that he agreed far more with Conin than Edis. Still, he seemed to know his job was on the line as far as welcoming Quorra was concerned, so there was no need to take a hard line with him.
“I’ll do my best,” the Nameless said at last. “You know most programs know better than to cross me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Karpin said. “But they’ll be weighing that against how much they want her derezzed. I think you’ll be surprised how many go after her.”
“I’ll be there to stop them when they do,” the Nameless replied. “And she can take better care of herself than you might think.”
Karpin had nothing to say to that, and the Nameless turned away from him, watching the medtech as she worked her way through the Users and Quorra. They’d had little risk of infection where they were in the Outlands, but there was no such thing as an overabundance of caution. Everyone had to be checked, no matter how safe they thought they were.
It took about twenty micros to check them all over; they one and all were clean. Karpin scowled again, then opened the quarantine partition to let them in. The sentries surrounded Sam, Ed, and Quorra, and the Nameless took the lead position. Their next stop was Edis’ office.
Though the Nameless took a fairly roundabout way to Edis’ office, there still were more programs in the corridors than there had been on their departure. None of them moved to attack their party; either they’d been warned to leave the Users and Quorra alone, or else they thought better of going up against the Nameless and five sentries. They still made their opinions known, jeering at the Users and shouting at Quorra that she was a virus, a glitch, a plague. Some of them even went after the Nameless, calling him traitor and tyrant. He ignored them, and so did the others.
They had to hustle through a knot of protesters to enter Edis’ office. More sentries in the entryway parted the crowd, and they made it through unscathed. The guards by the door let them in immediately, and they filed in while their sentries stayed behind.
The Nameless was surprised to see Rho standing in the office as well as Axel and Edis, but realized he shouldn’t have been. She was their preferred messenger, and given what had happened during and after the Council meeting, she doubtless had plenty of work to do. Rho glanced over her shoulder when they entered the office, but only acknowledged them with a nod before turning back to Edis and Axel. “She thinks I’m misrepresenting her to you,” she said. “Which… hardly, but she wanted to make sure I told you that.”
“I see,” Axel said.
Edis scowled. “Atana seems bent on wasting our time these last few decicycles. All those messages she’s sent, feigning interest in helping the Users when all she wants to do is use them for her own ends… I am growing weary of it.”
“We can’t tell her that,” Axel pointed out.
“Oh, I know,” he replied, sighing. “You’re dismissed, Rho.” Rho nodded, and left the office with a whispered “good luck” to the Nameless.
“On to other matters.” Edis turned his attention towards the Nameless and the others. “I can see your excursion to the Outlands was fruitful. Rho says the appearance of the I/O tower has excited quite a few programs around here. And the Iso has arrived safely as well. Welcome back. I assure you that the Nameless and the Council will do everything our power to ensure your safety.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Quorra said. “I’d like a beam sword to protect myself from any attacks, if that’s all right. It would be in addition to whatever security the Nameless devises, of course.”
“Some programs might not like that,” Axel said. “Your being armed might lead some to see you as a threat.”
Quorra shrugged. “The Nameless said the same thing. They already don’t like me. I don’t see how things can get worse than they already are, to be honest.”
“You’ll get your weapon,” Edis replied. “If you know how to wield it, you might give some programs pause before they attack you.”
“I’m not useless in a fight,” Quorra remarked with a smile. “How do you think I survived this long?”
Edis actually smiled in return. “That’s good to hear. So, Users, when does your experiment begin? You said you needed to infect her to be sure that she could fight off the virus.”
“We’ll get to that,” Sam said, stepping forward. “But first… there’s a question of accommodations. Ed and I can’t keep going forever; we’ll need somewhere to sleep and get our energy back. We’ll also need somewhere to work if Quorra can stop the virus. I don’t want to take housing from programs who need it,” he added. “People already don’t like us being here, and it’ll just make things worse if we’re seen taking space that could go to others. We don’t need an answer right away, but once the experiment is done, we’re gonna need somewhere to stay.”
Axel and Edis exchanged a look.”Do you—” Axel began, but Edis spoke over him.
“They can have my apartment,” he said. Axel stared at him, but Edis waved him off. “You know as well as I that I hardly spend time there anymore, Axel,” he went on. “Do you need this sleep often, then?” he asked Sam and Ed.
“Users need about one millicycle of sleep every two millicycles,” Quorra said before Sam could answer. “Since I came to the Users’ world, I need sleep, too, but less of it and less often. Energy rations would probably help a little, but Users need to sleep in a way programs don’t. If they don’t get enough sleep, their functionality decreases dramatically, and they could die.”
Sam glanced at Quorra, his expression caught between amusement and confusion. “What have you been reading?”
“A lot, since I found myself doing something I didn’t need to do before,” Quorra replied.
“All right,” Edis said. “I’ll get another bed compiled in there, for your use. But you have to go back out soon? To conduct your experiment?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “What about a workspace for us?”
“We’ll find something in the administrative sector,” Axel said. “I may give you my office. Seems I’m hardly there of late. We’ll have something sorted out by the time this experiment of yours is over.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. He turned back to the others. “Are we ready to go?”
“I don’t see any avoiding it,” Ed replied.
“I’m ready,” Quorra said quietly. “As I can be, anyway.”
“Then I guess we’re going. Thank you again for your help,” Sam said to Axel and Edis. “Lead the way, Nameless.”
The Nameless nodded, and in short order they left the office and set out for another gate.
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Rating: T
Characters: Tron, Sam Flynn, Ed Dillinger, Jr., Quorra, OCs
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.
Author Notes: Apologies for not updating last month. Hoping to maintain a monthly update schedule into the future. Thanks, as ever, for reading.
PART TWO: PRODROMAL
CHAPTER TEN: THE TOWER
The Nameless knew better than most which parts of the Outpost tended to be deserted. He took Ed and Sam a long and winding way, but eventually they made their way to the western vehicle hangar. Karpin, the captain there, eyed the Users suspiciously as the Nameless explained their purpose. “I’ve heard no word of this,” he said with a sneer. “Last orders from the Council were to keep the gates on lockdown.”
“That was to prevent anyone from going to get the Users,” the Nameless explained. “As you can see, they’re here now.” Karpin only narrowed his eyes, and the Nameless fought down an urge to sigh. “If you don’t believe me, then get General Edis on a comm line and ask.”
Karpin’s suspicion morphed into self-satisfied smugness. “I think I will. None of you move.” He stepped away from his console post and picked up his comm, standing some distance away so he couldn’t be overheard.
After a ten micro chat on the comm, Karpin returned looking a great deal less smug. “You’re free to go,” he growled.
“Thank you,” the Nameless said. He waved at Sam and Ed to follow him, and together they crossed the hangar and exited into the Outlands.
“What was his problem?” Sam asked as they walked.
“He served Clu,” the Nameless remarked, which more or less covered everything.
“Ah.” Sam shook his head. “I kind of figured, but.”
They walked for about sixty micros in silence before the Nameless stopped. They had reached a flat area of land, a little rough underfoot but otherwise a worthy foundation. “This should be a good place,” he said to them. “There’s less viral spread to the west, and the plans for the new apartments extend this way.”
“All right,” Sam said. “Let’s get started.” He clapped his hands together, then strode forward a few paces and knelt to open a panel of code on the ground. Ed joined him there, and work on the I/O tower commenced.
The Nameless watched patiently as the Users worked. They clearly were both novices at this, but Flynn had been, too, in those early days of the Grid. Sam and Ed managed to clear an area around them, smoothing the rock into a glassy floor. The three-dimensional aspects of building, however, eluded them. Walls flickered in and out of existence as they disagreed on the shape of the building. For a brief and beautiful moment, the light of connection between this world and the one beyond shone brightly, but it faded as the connection was lost in another argument.
Finally, the Nameless said, “Stop.”
The two Users looked up at him.
“You—” He stopped himself, not sure if it was his place to say anything. The Grid had never seen an I/O tower, because it had never needed one. Flynn was the system’s only User, and Clu existed so problems could be dealt with while Flynn was home in his own world. The Nameless hadn’t seen the inside of an I/O tower since Flynn had transferred him to the Grid. He wanted—no, he needed them to get it right.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he said.
Sam’s mouth crooked in half a smile, but Ed looked slightly annoyed. “How are we doing it wrong?” he asked. “No offense, but you’re a program—what do you know about writing code?”
“Not much,” the Nameless admitted. “But I saw Flynn work in here more times than I care to count. Writing code on the Grid is… different from what I suspect you’re used to. Flynn told me it was more about guiding his feelings and trusting himself than mechanically writing it down. And…” He bowed his head, unable to look at them. “If you’re going to open this I/O tower, you need to get it right.”
“Right how?” Sam asked.
“”The I/O towers…” He struggled for the right words; how could he explain this to a User? “They were the beacons of a free system. Where programs went when they felt their User’s call. I—you knew you were part of something greater, that everything you knew—” He closed his eyes, raising his head as he remembered DuMont and the words of the guardians. “ ‘All that is visible must grow beyond itself, and extend into the realm of the invisible.’
“They called us fanatics for believing in the Users. Master Control did. But then Flynn came and showed us how right and how wrong we were. He freed the system. We could contact our Users again, follow our functions as they were meant to be. And then Flynn returned, and brought us here.”
One of them said something, but he didn’t hear.
Then Sam said, “Tron?”
He blinked; it all rushed back. Sam and Ed both stared at him. Sam looked a little concerned. “Don’t call me that,” the Nameless snapped. “I don’t deserve that name.”
“Because of what Clu did to you?”
The Nameless turned away, and no one spoke any further. A micro later, Ed spoke quietly to Sam, and their work began anew.
The wind whipped around them, whining a little in his ears. Sam knew what he was, what he’d done. All that violence in the name of Clu. He had nearly killed Sam on the games grid, those cycles ago. Only his underlying directive, the fundamental part of his code that even Clu couldn’t override, had saved Sam’s life. He may have tried to stop Clu over the Sea, but it hadn’t been enough. And four cycles of working to undo the evil he’d wrought as Rinzler were not near enough atonement for a thousand spent as Clu’s enforcer. The programs and Isos he’d derezzed, both on the games grid and off it… even he didn’t know how much death he’d been responsible for.
He didn’t deserve the name Tron. Not now, and maybe not ever again.
ooo
The I/O tower gleamed from within and without. It stood tall and proud, though not as large as the towers the Nameless remembered. Those great cathedrals to a world unseen were lost to him now, but he suspected this substitute would do its work admirably. Sam had constructed most of the building, using a combination of written code and the awkward hand-waving Flynn had often employed while exercising his User privileges. The tower had shimmered into existence around Sam and Ed, but it had not felt truly complete until the connection to the world outside caught light, giving it a life of its own in the Nameless’ eyes.
Now Ed crouched before the doors of the tower, and Sam walked over to where the Nameless watched. “Ed’s setting the tower as the Portal’s new output point,” he explained. The Nameless nodded, not looking at Sam or even Ed. He stared above the tower, where the connection’s bright light sent a thin beam into the sky.
“Are you all right?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine,” the Nameless said.
“You haven’t said anything since I mentioned Clu,” Sam pointed out. “Are you sure you’re not—”
“Sam,” the Nameless warned, turning his head to glare at him.
Sam held up his hands. “All right, all right. Fair enough, I did bring him up in the first place.” He sighed. “I just—I don’t understand. Why don’t you want anyone to know who you are?”
“I told Quorra this the last time you were here,” the Nameless responded. “Did she not tell you?”
“It’s only been two days on our side,” Sam reminded him. “And we spent most of the poring over code. It didn’t come up.”
“Do you really think Tron would be welcomed back with open arms, the way things are right now?” the Nameless asked. “And if it got out who I was before the Departure, what then? There’s probably not a program in that Outpost who didn’t lose someone they knew to Rinzler.”
“Fair point,” Sam admitted. He turned his attention back to Ed and the tower. “Did we do a good enough job for you? I tried to keep what you said in mind, but I’m not much of an architect…”
“It’s…small,” the Nameless said, “but the connection is bright and strong. It’ll serve.”
“Glad you like it, then.”
The Nameless only nodded in response. He saw Sam looking at him sidelong, as if trying to will him to talk, but neither of them spoke any further. Sam walked back over to where Ed was working. “How’s it coming?” he asked.
“Nearly got it,” Ed replied. “Your father’s code is a mess, by the way, and so’s most of this place. Stream of consciousness coding is not the way of the future, I don’t think.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Eddie boy.”
“Don’t call me that,” Ed said, annoyed. “And I think I’ll pass on that offer.” He prodded the code beneath his fingers a few more times, then closed out the panel of code, apparently satisfied with his work. “It should be set,” he said, getting to his feet. “Go ahead and give Alan the all-clear.”
The Nameless grew very still. “Are you talking about Alan_1?” he asked quietly.
Sam and Ed both turned to look at him. Ed said, “The Alan who looks just like you, but older? Yeah.”
The Nameless’ hands clenched into fists at his sides. “He is my User.”
“We know,” Sam said.
Can I please contact him? The words were there, at the edge of his lips, but he couldn’t form them. It was too much to hope for, that he could contact his User again for the first time in over a thousand cycles. That he could hear his User’s voice and feel his presence and know that he had purpose and directive again. He felt as though Alan_1 was the only one who could grant him the absolution he sought, to tell him that what he had done as Rinzler had not been his fault. But it was too much to ask, truly, and it was not why they were here.
“The connection is good,” he said instead. Sam and Ed exchanged a look, but said nothing. “Do you know how to encode a message on your disc?”
“No,” said Sam.
“I”ll show you.” Sam pulled out his disc and opened it as the Nameless approached. He walked Sam through accessing the disc’s output and the encoding of a message. “You need to hold your disc into the column of light,” he explained as Sam closed out his disc. “Your message will be carried up to… to the User waiting for it. Any further messages will be relayed to you then. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding. “Let’s do this.” He gripped the Nameless’ shoulder briefly, then walked past Ed with another nod and stepped into the I/O tower.
“Should we go in with him?” Ed asked.
The Nameless shook his head. “It’s a small tower,” he said. “It’s… a private kind of ceremony. Though different since Sam is a User. I… wouldn’t feel comfortable…”
“I understand,” Ed replied. “I think.” He considered the Nameless for a moment, then said, “It’s almost like a religious experience for you guys, isn’t it? Talking to your creator. Only here I guess your creator can talk back.”
The Nameless allowed himself a small smile. “Quorra said something about Users believing they had a User of their own, who had a plan for them.”
Ed shrugged. “Yeah, people believe in a god or gods. I guess it makes some people feel better about the sheer randomness of life. It’s not really my thing, but I’m not one to judge.”
They lapsed into silence. The Nameless stared at the I/O tower, trying not to think of what was going on inside at this very moment, but doing nothing but. He was so close to a connection with his User, with Alan_1, and yet… he couldn’t let himself do it. He had been without a User this long. He could and would survive. But there was a connection now, a tether to the world beyond that the Grid had never seen. And perhaps, in the future, there would be a chance, some small moment he could steal away and try to contact Alan_1.
But not now.
Thirty micros the Nameless spent thinking about the tower, the light, and Alan_1. Over and over he imagined what he would say, what he wanted Alan_1 to say back. Sometimes he gave himself forgiveness; other times, it was judgment. He could not predict what Alan_1 would really say, though; he had never met his User, and his actions were as inscrutable to him as they had been on the Encom system. So he ran through the scenarios and outcomes again, never satisfied with his imaginings.
He almost started when the tower’s doors opened again, and Sam stepped out. “So?” the Nameless said.
“Quorra’s on her way,” he said, walking up to where Ed and the Nameless waited. “Alan says they’ve got to reset the laser, but it shouldn’t take much more than a minute out there. No idea what the conversion rate is, though. It may be a while.”
They waited in silence for a little while, but then Sam spoke again. “Where are we going to be staying while we’re here?” he asked the Nameless. “I know space is tight, but I don’t want anyone losing a place because of the three of us—”
“I’m sure Edis and Axel are working on it,” the Nameless replied. “We’ll report back to them when we return to the Outpost. I take it you’ll need a workspace as well?”
“Probably,” Ed said. “At least when we’ve isolated Quorra’s immune code and begun to copy it.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” the Nameless said, looking away at the tower again, “what is this immunity you two keep talking about?”
“It’s part of how User bodies work,” Sam said. “We—I mean, this is seriously watered down, like layman’s terms, but—we have a system in our bodies, our blood, that identifies things that aren’t supposed to be there, like viruses. It fights them off, and learns how the virus or whatever works, so it can fight it off the next time it infects us. There are some viruses that change too rapidly for the immune system to really work against them, but those are usually survivable. The really bad stuff is what we have vaccines for. They introduce a weak or dead form of the virus, so the immune system can learn what it is and fight it off it if ever shows up for real.”
“Our theory,” Ed continued, “is that programs don’t have any sort of immune system. Quorra is a program, but she’s also… alive, in a way you guys aren’t. Our DNA, our code, is a double helix. Hers is triple helical. We don’t even really know what she is, except for a totally new form of life.” He glanced at Sam. “And Sam doesn’t want to tell anyone about her, even though a single vial of her blood could probably revolutionize modern medicine.”
“And get her locked up in a government lab for the trouble,” Sam said sourly. “We tell people about her on our terms, not theirs.”
“If she survives this adventure of ours.”
“Yeah. If.”
The wind picked up suddenly, and there was a sharp, clean scent in the air; a growing light blossomed by the I/O tower. They all turned to look as Quorra manifested before them, appearing first as mere shadow, before taking on more solid form. After half a micro, the wind dropped, the light faded, and Quorra stepped back as if she’d received a blow. She looked up and saw them, then smiled.
Sam crossed the space between them in a nano, pulling Quorra into a quick embrace. “Good to see you,” he said. “You ready?”
Quorra backed out of his arms, her expression serious now. “How did they take the news?”
“Not well,” the Nameless said. “It’s a sixty micro walk back to the western gate. We’ll fill you in on the way. There’s more happening here than just your arrival.”
“All right,” Quorra said with a nod. “Lead the way.”
They set off together, and the Nameless explained everything that had happened in their absence, and then the disastrous Council meeting and its aftermath.
“How are we going to stay safe?” Quorra asked at the end of it, when they were in view of the western gate. “I trust you, but you’re only one program. Are there others you trust that you can bring in?”
“The basic sentries will be a help,” the Nameless said. “They’re written to do the Council’s will, and their will is to keep you safe. I can find personal escorts for each of you. Probably.”
“Probably is only a little reassuring at the moment,” Quorra replied. “I can defend myself well enough, but I’d like a beam sword if they can spare one for me.”
“I’m sure they can,” he said. “Programs might object to your being armed, though.”
“Programs already object that I exist,” Quorra remarked. “I’m not doing this for their gratitude. This system is worth saving, even if it doesn’t want me here.”
“I understand,” said the Nameless. They walked on, heading over and down a ridge that led to the Outpost’s perimeter road. Once they ascertained no one was coming, they crossed the road and entered the quarantine chamber of the western gate.
Karpin waited for them there, a medtech and several sentries behind him. “That the Iso?” he asked sharply, nodding at Quorra. She held his gaze as he glared at her; he looked away first.
“She is,” the Nameless confirmed. “I trust you know the Council’s will regarding her?”
“Heard it wasn’t the full Council’s will,” Karpin grumbled.
“The majority’s will is still the Council’s will,” the Nameless said. “Would you defy them?”
Karpin scowled, then punched the panel that opened the chamber doors, allowing the Nameless and the others in, as well as the medtech from the other side. “I won’t say I’m happy about it,” he remarked, still scowling. “I heard they put you in charge of protecting her. Tell me, Nameless, how are you going to protect her from half the programs in this Outpost? They’d all like to see her bits spilled out on the ground.”
The Nameless stared at Karpin a moment, trying to decide how best to proceed. He was a former loyalist, of course, as his red circuitry proclaimed to all who saw him. It was also readily apparent that he agreed far more with Conin than Edis. Still, he seemed to know his job was on the line as far as welcoming Quorra was concerned, so there was no need to take a hard line with him.
“I’ll do my best,” the Nameless said at last. “You know most programs know better than to cross me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Karpin said. “But they’ll be weighing that against how much they want her derezzed. I think you’ll be surprised how many go after her.”
“I’ll be there to stop them when they do,” the Nameless replied. “And she can take better care of herself than you might think.”
Karpin had nothing to say to that, and the Nameless turned away from him, watching the medtech as she worked her way through the Users and Quorra. They’d had little risk of infection where they were in the Outlands, but there was no such thing as an overabundance of caution. Everyone had to be checked, no matter how safe they thought they were.
It took about twenty micros to check them all over; they one and all were clean. Karpin scowled again, then opened the quarantine partition to let them in. The sentries surrounded Sam, Ed, and Quorra, and the Nameless took the lead position. Their next stop was Edis’ office.
ooo
Though the Nameless took a fairly roundabout way to Edis’ office, there still were more programs in the corridors than there had been on their departure. None of them moved to attack their party; either they’d been warned to leave the Users and Quorra alone, or else they thought better of going up against the Nameless and five sentries. They still made their opinions known, jeering at the Users and shouting at Quorra that she was a virus, a glitch, a plague. Some of them even went after the Nameless, calling him traitor and tyrant. He ignored them, and so did the others.
They had to hustle through a knot of protesters to enter Edis’ office. More sentries in the entryway parted the crowd, and they made it through unscathed. The guards by the door let them in immediately, and they filed in while their sentries stayed behind.
The Nameless was surprised to see Rho standing in the office as well as Axel and Edis, but realized he shouldn’t have been. She was their preferred messenger, and given what had happened during and after the Council meeting, she doubtless had plenty of work to do. Rho glanced over her shoulder when they entered the office, but only acknowledged them with a nod before turning back to Edis and Axel. “She thinks I’m misrepresenting her to you,” she said. “Which… hardly, but she wanted to make sure I told you that.”
“I see,” Axel said.
Edis scowled. “Atana seems bent on wasting our time these last few decicycles. All those messages she’s sent, feigning interest in helping the Users when all she wants to do is use them for her own ends… I am growing weary of it.”
“We can’t tell her that,” Axel pointed out.
“Oh, I know,” he replied, sighing. “You’re dismissed, Rho.” Rho nodded, and left the office with a whispered “good luck” to the Nameless.
“On to other matters.” Edis turned his attention towards the Nameless and the others. “I can see your excursion to the Outlands was fruitful. Rho says the appearance of the I/O tower has excited quite a few programs around here. And the Iso has arrived safely as well. Welcome back. I assure you that the Nameless and the Council will do everything our power to ensure your safety.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Quorra said. “I’d like a beam sword to protect myself from any attacks, if that’s all right. It would be in addition to whatever security the Nameless devises, of course.”
“Some programs might not like that,” Axel said. “Your being armed might lead some to see you as a threat.”
Quorra shrugged. “The Nameless said the same thing. They already don’t like me. I don’t see how things can get worse than they already are, to be honest.”
“You’ll get your weapon,” Edis replied. “If you know how to wield it, you might give some programs pause before they attack you.”
“I’m not useless in a fight,” Quorra remarked with a smile. “How do you think I survived this long?”
Edis actually smiled in return. “That’s good to hear. So, Users, when does your experiment begin? You said you needed to infect her to be sure that she could fight off the virus.”
“We’ll get to that,” Sam said, stepping forward. “But first… there’s a question of accommodations. Ed and I can’t keep going forever; we’ll need somewhere to sleep and get our energy back. We’ll also need somewhere to work if Quorra can stop the virus. I don’t want to take housing from programs who need it,” he added. “People already don’t like us being here, and it’ll just make things worse if we’re seen taking space that could go to others. We don’t need an answer right away, but once the experiment is done, we’re gonna need somewhere to stay.”
Axel and Edis exchanged a look.”Do you—” Axel began, but Edis spoke over him.
“They can have my apartment,” he said. Axel stared at him, but Edis waved him off. “You know as well as I that I hardly spend time there anymore, Axel,” he went on. “Do you need this sleep often, then?” he asked Sam and Ed.
“Users need about one millicycle of sleep every two millicycles,” Quorra said before Sam could answer. “Since I came to the Users’ world, I need sleep, too, but less of it and less often. Energy rations would probably help a little, but Users need to sleep in a way programs don’t. If they don’t get enough sleep, their functionality decreases dramatically, and they could die.”
Sam glanced at Quorra, his expression caught between amusement and confusion. “What have you been reading?”
“A lot, since I found myself doing something I didn’t need to do before,” Quorra replied.
“All right,” Edis said. “I’ll get another bed compiled in there, for your use. But you have to go back out soon? To conduct your experiment?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “What about a workspace for us?”
“We’ll find something in the administrative sector,” Axel said. “I may give you my office. Seems I’m hardly there of late. We’ll have something sorted out by the time this experiment of yours is over.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. He turned back to the others. “Are we ready to go?”
“I don’t see any avoiding it,” Ed replied.
“I’m ready,” Quorra said quietly. “As I can be, anyway.”
“Then I guess we’re going. Thank you again for your help,” Sam said to Axel and Edis. “Lead the way, Nameless.”
The Nameless nodded, and in short order they left the office and set out for another gate.