TRON Fanfic: The Outpost (11/?)
Apr. 29th, 2018 06:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skye_writerTitle: 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.
Millicycle One
The Nameless led them to an infected area a short lightrunner ride east of the Outpost. He and Ed waited by the lightrunner, at the edge of the infected zone. The Nameless could not risk getting infected without a cure or vaccine ready; he suspected Ed was afraid of infection as well, though the virus had shown no signs of being able to infect Users. Still, he said nothing to the User as they waited, watching Quorra and Sam wander the infected zone.
Sam had explained a little what they were going to attempt to do, in terms of how it happened with Users. Users could be infected by their own viruses if infectious material made it into an open wound. They would be trying the same thing with Quorra: giving her an open wound—in this case a minor abrasion from her disc—and applying the broken down code of the Outlands soil to it.
The Nameless couldn’t get a read on how Quorra felt about this whole plan, but she raised no objections; obviously they had discussed it before they’d even returned to the Grid. Still, he had to wonder how she felt, being asked to put herself at risk for a system that mostly wanted her derezzed and gone.
Millicycle Three
The Nameless stood, waiting and watchful.
The User Ed had coded something resembling a bed out of the Outlands rock, and was silent and unmoving, presumably sleeping. He’d said very little to the Nameless as they’d watched Quorra and Sam, but his last words had been, “Ugh. I’ve slept on rocks more comfortable than this.”
He’d gone to sleep anyway.
Sam and Quorra sat on the ground in the infected area, talking quietly. They passed her disc back and forth frequently. From what the Nameless could see, Sam appeared to be checking her code for signs that the virus had taken hold.
He glanced at Ed, who seemed safe enough for the moment. He headed into the infected zone, picking his way carefully to avoid the worst parts of the infection.
Sam and Quorra both looked up as he approached. “What’s up?” Sam asked.
“I just wanted to know how things are progressing,” the Nameless said. “It’s been a couple millicycles. I’m sure Axel or Edis will be sending a messenger down soon enough, with energy rations if they’re forward thinking enough.”
“The virus is in her system,” Sam said. “But it’s not… doing anything. I’m starting to wonder if it’s even compatible with her code. We may have been wrong about it being biodigital, even though…”
“We had two days,” Quorra pointed out gently. “If we were wrong, it’s because we were rushed, not because of some fatal flaw on our part. It had the right structure, the right feel. It may be taking longer because it’s never infected an Iso before. Our code structure is completely different from ordinary programs’.”
“That’s a good point,” the Nameless said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Yeah. I just—” He shook his head. “God, it feels like I haven’t slept in three days.”
“That’s because you haven’t,” Quorra said with a wry smile. “Go over there and make a bed. Get some rest. I’ll be fine out here. Better if this messenger brings rations.”
Sam stared at Quorra for nearly a micro before he finally slumped in defeat. “All right. You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Sure,” Quorra said with a nod and a smile. Sam managed half a smile in return. Then he got to his feet, with a little help from the Nameless, and trudged back out of the infected area.
It took him just a couple micros to build a bed, mostly by tapping a few things in the Outlands code and holding one arm out in front of him. The result was low to the ground, but Sam fell into it with a grateful sigh. It looked a great deal more comfortable than Ed’s attempt, but the Nameless wasn’t about to tell either of them that.
He looked back at Quorra. She sat with her arms wrapped around her legs, and her chin on her knees.
She looked desolate.
Millicycle Four
Rho had been offered a lightcycle for the trip out to the Users’ encampment in the Outlands, but she refused it. Though her mission for Edis and Axel wouldn’t take long, she felt that the Outpost should have full use of all its resources, and anyway, she didn’t want to jostle the bag of rations she’d been sent with as well. The carafe of energy was sealed and coded to be unbreakable, but the glasses were a bit more fragile. Though she hated the silence of the Outlands, Rho welcomed it now. It was better than the voices that stalked her through the Outpost corridors.
She didn’t know how it had gotten out that she’d become the leaders’ personal message runner, but it had. Probably thanks to her former friends, the ones who thought she was full of herself because she kept the Users’ secrets. The words “traitor” and “tyrant” followed her wherever she went, and while she kept her head high and carried on, it still got to her. She’d spent nearly half a millicycle before this assignment just sitting in her apartment, which was empty now that the Xenon program Merrill had been given her own quarters in the newest wing of the Outpost. Rho had that time to herself—she could have done anything with it. She could have gone to the club. She could have gone and bothered Halix about getting on the roster for border patrol. She could have done a lot of things.
But she didn’t.
When she’d entered the message runners’ office with a summons from Edis, she grinned. This trip gave her something to do, and more importantly, it would get her out of the Outpost and away from the whispers and stares of her fellow programs.
Rho could see the Users’ borrowed lightrunner up ahead, and could just make out the Nameless’ silhouette. He had so little circuitry on his armor, he was sometimes hard to see, especially out here. The edge of the infected territory went almost right up to the lightrunner. Rho tamped down on her nervousness. She survived Tron City unscathed, and she knew the chance of infection from the general landscape ran fairly low. Everything would be fine.
“Greetings, programs!” she shouted by way of a greeting. The Nameless turned as if he’d been expecting her, but the User beside him—Ed, she thought—jumped and stumbled backward a step or two. The other User and the Iso Quorra sat well into the infected zone, and looked up at her, but did not approach.
She saw why as she got closer: Quorra was infected. Even from a distance, Rho could make out the streaks of red in her circuitry, and saw zigzag lines of red on her face. Rho stopped short, the bag holding the carafe and glasses slipping off her shoulder and swinging from her elbow.
“It’s all right, Rho,” the Nameless said, going forward to meet her. “She’s not going to come any closer.”
“I kn—sorry,” Rho said, swallowing. “Sorry. I just—I haven’t seen infection that bad since the end of the war. They always looked like that before—”
“I know,” the Nameless said, clasping her shoulder briefly. “Sam thinks there’s signs of her fighting it off. I imagine that’s what Edis and Axel sent you out here for?”
“What? Oh, yes.” Rho shook her head and forced herself to look away from Quorra, who didn’t need to be stared at on top of everything she was going through. “Yes, Edis wants a status report. And also wanted me to deliver this to you all.” She held up the bag, then set it on the ground to open it and show what she had brought. “There should be enough energy in here to hold you for the rest of the centicycle, if you’re going to be out here that long.”
“Thank you.” The Nameless took the carafe from her, and she handed him the glasses as well. “Sam,” he called. Sam looked over at them. “Edis wants a report. Come over here.”
Sam nodded. He said something inaudible to Quorra, who nodded in turn. Then he stood and jogged over to where they stood, out of the infected area. “What’s Edis want to know?”
“We need to know if this plan of yours is working,” Rho said, quoting what Edis had told her. “Has the infection been successful? Is the Iso fighting it off as you predicted? Or will other action need to be taken?”
“It seems to be working,” Sam replied. “We think. Quorra is infected, but she’s showing signs of fighting it off. Human signs, mostly. User,” he amended on seeing Rho’s expression. “Human is what we call ourselves.”
“What kind of signs?” Rho asked. “Anything we’d be familiar with?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “She has a fever, and those weird marks on her skin.” Rho evidently looked even more confused, because he went on, “A fever is when our body temperature goes up. It means her body is trying to kill off the virus by making the environment unsuitable for it.”
“I understand… I think. I’ll let Edis know what’s going on,” Rho said as the Nameless straightened up, holding a pair of full glasses in his hands. He handed one to Sam.
“Drink,” he said. “You’ve been up almost nonstop, except for that little rest before the infection kicked in. You need it.”
Sam eyed the glass a moment, then knocked back an enormous gulp. He winced as he swallowed. “Damn. What’s in this stuff?”
Rho blinked at him. “It’s just a basic energy cocktail, good for exhaustion.”
“It feels like I stuck my tongue into an electrical socket,” Sam replied. “I mean, I feel better, but… Damn.”
Rho stared at him.
The Nameless had handed Ed the other glass. He took a cautious sip, and made a similar face as Sam had. “That tastes like Red Bull on speed,” he said. “Dear god.”
“More like Four Loko on speed,” Sam said. “It burns like alcohol.”
Ed took another sip. “Fair point. Tastes better than Four Loko, though.”
Sam looked incredulous. “You’ve had a Four Loko? You don’t seem the type.”
“It was on a bet,” Ed said sourly. “The compsci interns said I wouldn’t be able to code worth a damn after chugging one.”
Sam laughed. “Did you win the bet?”
Ed smirked. “Yes.”
Sam laughed again, and held his glass out to Ed. Ed clinked his glass against Sam’s, and they both took another gulp of energy, laughing together when they both winced again.
Rho glanced down at the Nameless, who had busied himself with another glass. “Did you understand a word of that?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he replied. Sam and Ed evidently heard him and laughed again. “Sam,” the Nameless continued as though nothing had happened, “I need you to take this over to Quorra. She probably needs it.”
“Right,” Sam said. He drained his glass with another wince, then took the full one the Nameless offered him. Rho watched as he walked over toe Quorra, who had moved a few paces closer to them. “Here you go,” Sam said to Quorra, who slowly took the glass with both hands.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. She said something else to Sam that Rho couldn’t make out. Sam smiled and responded quietly, and Rho looked away. They probably wouldn’t take kindly to her eavesdropping. She turned back to the Nameless, who now had his own glass of energy.
“How bad do you think it really is?” she asked.
“Sam’s not concealing anything,” he replied. “Not that I’m aware of. I can’t check that he isn’t, of course, but I trust him. She is infected, and badly, but she hasn’t become corrupted. That’s a good sign, if nothing else.”
“I hope so,” Rho replied. She turned back and watched Quorra and Sam for a couple micros, then excused herself. She had to report back to Edis and Axel.
The walk back to the Outpost felt more forlorn than the walk out. Rho liked the Users and Quorra, and the Nameless had always treated her well. She wished she could say the same of the programs back home.
Millicycle Five
Quorra had not been looking well for some time now. The Nameless could only observe from a distance, but when Sam had built a bed for her and made her lay down, he knew things were worsening, not getting better. The Nameless had rationed out half the carafe of energy already, most of it going to Quorra. Rho had come and gone again with another report on their progress.
Sam didn’t want to say how bad things were. The Nameless had approached the border of the infected area to observe, and he didn’t like what he saw. Quorra’s circuitry flickered weakly between white and red, and her exposed skin was covered in a grid-like pattern of infection. Even her eyes had turned red. It was far more advanced than the Nameless had ever seen in any infected program, and while that may have just been a result of her being an Iso, it did not encourage him.
The Nameless stopped Sam when he came out of the infected zone for a drink of energy. “Sam.”
Sam, who had slept very little since Quorra had become fully infected, looked at him, dark shadows under his eyes and a weariness in his expression.
“Are you prepared to do what needs to be done if she corrupts?” the Nameless asked.
Sam blinked at him. “What?”
“If she corrupts, she will need to be derezzed.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “You aren’t—”
“If you aren’t willing to do it, then I will,” the Nameless said. “We can’t risk any scrap of infection making it back to the Outpost, do you understand? I’m beginning to realize what she means to you, but if she doesn’t survive—”
“You’ll finish Clu’s dirty work?” Sam said darkly.
The Nameless stiffened. Memories swirled, threatening to rise, and instinct surged forward—
He stopped himself. He closed his eyes. Centered himself on the here and now. Opened them again.
“I’m going to assume you said that because you’re tired and not thinking,” he said evenly.
Sam glared at him, but his anger broke after a moment. He sagged and ran a hand down his face. “I—I’m sorry, Tron—sorry, sorry, I know you don’t—”
“You’re tired,” the Nameless said again. “It’s… all right. You’re not doing Quorra any good running yourself this hard, Sam. Get a drink, and then lay down and get some rest. Quorra will be fine.”
Sam’s eyes grew glassy. “I can’t lose her,” he said hoarsely. “She’s the only one—she was with Dad all those years in the Outlands, she knows—she’s all I’ve got, just about. And I’m all she has out there.”
“I understand,” the Nameless said. “Get some rest, Sam. I’ll check on her in a hundred micros, all right?”
Sam nodded. “All right. All right.” He shook his head, then trudged past the Nameless to the energy carafe. The Nameless watched as he poured himself a little energy and knocked it back, then walked unsteadily over to his bed and laid down.
The Nameless then turned his gaze towards Quorra. She lay on her own bed with her back to him. Her circuitry still flickered, but he noticed the light around the inside of her disc remained clear and white.
He chose to find some hope in this, because otherwise there was no hope at all.
Millicycle Six
When Quorra began glowing, even the Nameless was alarmed. He pulled out his disc, ready for the worst, for the light was white tinged with red, but Quorra did not stir. Instead he walked over to where Sam still slept and gently woke him.
Sam startled into consciousness, and blinked blearily at the Nameless. “Tron? What—?”
“Something’s happening,” the Nameless said. “I think you should go and check on Quorra.”
He sat bolt upright at that, and half fell out of the bed in the scramble to get to his feet. He strode with a purpose out into the infected zone, and did not seem to notice that the Nameless followed him. The Nameless kept a grip on his disc, ready to derezz Quorra if this was a sign of her full corruption.
Sam tried to wake Quorra, but she didn’t respond to him, even when he gripped her by the shoulders and shook her. She still glowed, and the light was white and seemed to be concentrated on her left arm. Where the Mark of the Isos would be, the Nameless realized.
“I don’t—what’s going on?” Sam muttered.
“Check her disc,” the Nameless said. “It’s the only way to be sure.”
Sam looked at him, and his eyes shifted to the disc in his hand. “Sure of what?” he asked.
The Nameless said nothing.
Sam rolled Quorra on her side and undocked her disc, which glowed nearly as brightly as the rest of her. He opened the disc, revealing her base code. With one shaking hand he tapped the isohedron here and there, zooming further and further in until the code resolved itself in a shimmering triple helix. The code was red, deep red, but there was one last patch of white, which Sam had focused in on.
Sam’s expression tightened. The Nameless wordlessly ignited his disc. They had to be ready.
The world seemed still for a nano. The Nameless clenched his jaw. He was ready. He would do it, he had to—
A segment of the infected code turned white.
Sam’s eyes widened.
After a micro, another segment flickered from red to white.
“Oh my god,” Sam murmured.
The Nameless’ disc went out as his hand went slack. “You were right.”
“We were right,” Sam repeated. “WE WERE RIGHT!” He surged to his feet, whooping loud enough to be heard back at the Outpost as he ran out of the infected area and over to where Ed slept. “Ed! Ed, wake up, we were right!”
The Nameless looked down at where Quorra still slept. She glowed still, but more uniformly white. Her code was turning back the infection, bit by bit. She had risked her life and emerged victorious. She could save them all, whether the Outpost liked it or not.
Author:
skye_writerRating: 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.
PART TWO: PRODROMAL
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE EXPERIMENT
Millicycle One
The Nameless led them to an infected area a short lightrunner ride east of the Outpost. He and Ed waited by the lightrunner, at the edge of the infected zone. The Nameless could not risk getting infected without a cure or vaccine ready; he suspected Ed was afraid of infection as well, though the virus had shown no signs of being able to infect Users. Still, he said nothing to the User as they waited, watching Quorra and Sam wander the infected zone.
Sam had explained a little what they were going to attempt to do, in terms of how it happened with Users. Users could be infected by their own viruses if infectious material made it into an open wound. They would be trying the same thing with Quorra: giving her an open wound—in this case a minor abrasion from her disc—and applying the broken down code of the Outlands soil to it.
The Nameless couldn’t get a read on how Quorra felt about this whole plan, but she raised no objections; obviously they had discussed it before they’d even returned to the Grid. Still, he had to wonder how she felt, being asked to put herself at risk for a system that mostly wanted her derezzed and gone.
Millicycle Three
The Nameless stood, waiting and watchful.
The User Ed had coded something resembling a bed out of the Outlands rock, and was silent and unmoving, presumably sleeping. He’d said very little to the Nameless as they’d watched Quorra and Sam, but his last words had been, “Ugh. I’ve slept on rocks more comfortable than this.”
He’d gone to sleep anyway.
Sam and Quorra sat on the ground in the infected area, talking quietly. They passed her disc back and forth frequently. From what the Nameless could see, Sam appeared to be checking her code for signs that the virus had taken hold.
He glanced at Ed, who seemed safe enough for the moment. He headed into the infected zone, picking his way carefully to avoid the worst parts of the infection.
Sam and Quorra both looked up as he approached. “What’s up?” Sam asked.
“I just wanted to know how things are progressing,” the Nameless said. “It’s been a couple millicycles. I’m sure Axel or Edis will be sending a messenger down soon enough, with energy rations if they’re forward thinking enough.”
“The virus is in her system,” Sam said. “But it’s not… doing anything. I’m starting to wonder if it’s even compatible with her code. We may have been wrong about it being biodigital, even though…”
“We had two days,” Quorra pointed out gently. “If we were wrong, it’s because we were rushed, not because of some fatal flaw on our part. It had the right structure, the right feel. It may be taking longer because it’s never infected an Iso before. Our code structure is completely different from ordinary programs’.”
“That’s a good point,” the Nameless said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Yeah. I just—” He shook his head. “God, it feels like I haven’t slept in three days.”
“That’s because you haven’t,” Quorra said with a wry smile. “Go over there and make a bed. Get some rest. I’ll be fine out here. Better if this messenger brings rations.”
Sam stared at Quorra for nearly a micro before he finally slumped in defeat. “All right. You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Sure,” Quorra said with a nod and a smile. Sam managed half a smile in return. Then he got to his feet, with a little help from the Nameless, and trudged back out of the infected area.
It took him just a couple micros to build a bed, mostly by tapping a few things in the Outlands code and holding one arm out in front of him. The result was low to the ground, but Sam fell into it with a grateful sigh. It looked a great deal more comfortable than Ed’s attempt, but the Nameless wasn’t about to tell either of them that.
He looked back at Quorra. She sat with her arms wrapped around her legs, and her chin on her knees.
She looked desolate.
Millicycle Four
Rho had been offered a lightcycle for the trip out to the Users’ encampment in the Outlands, but she refused it. Though her mission for Edis and Axel wouldn’t take long, she felt that the Outpost should have full use of all its resources, and anyway, she didn’t want to jostle the bag of rations she’d been sent with as well. The carafe of energy was sealed and coded to be unbreakable, but the glasses were a bit more fragile. Though she hated the silence of the Outlands, Rho welcomed it now. It was better than the voices that stalked her through the Outpost corridors.
She didn’t know how it had gotten out that she’d become the leaders’ personal message runner, but it had. Probably thanks to her former friends, the ones who thought she was full of herself because she kept the Users’ secrets. The words “traitor” and “tyrant” followed her wherever she went, and while she kept her head high and carried on, it still got to her. She’d spent nearly half a millicycle before this assignment just sitting in her apartment, which was empty now that the Xenon program Merrill had been given her own quarters in the newest wing of the Outpost. Rho had that time to herself—she could have done anything with it. She could have gone to the club. She could have gone and bothered Halix about getting on the roster for border patrol. She could have done a lot of things.
But she didn’t.
When she’d entered the message runners’ office with a summons from Edis, she grinned. This trip gave her something to do, and more importantly, it would get her out of the Outpost and away from the whispers and stares of her fellow programs.
Rho could see the Users’ borrowed lightrunner up ahead, and could just make out the Nameless’ silhouette. He had so little circuitry on his armor, he was sometimes hard to see, especially out here. The edge of the infected territory went almost right up to the lightrunner. Rho tamped down on her nervousness. She survived Tron City unscathed, and she knew the chance of infection from the general landscape ran fairly low. Everything would be fine.
“Greetings, programs!” she shouted by way of a greeting. The Nameless turned as if he’d been expecting her, but the User beside him—Ed, she thought—jumped and stumbled backward a step or two. The other User and the Iso Quorra sat well into the infected zone, and looked up at her, but did not approach.
She saw why as she got closer: Quorra was infected. Even from a distance, Rho could make out the streaks of red in her circuitry, and saw zigzag lines of red on her face. Rho stopped short, the bag holding the carafe and glasses slipping off her shoulder and swinging from her elbow.
“It’s all right, Rho,” the Nameless said, going forward to meet her. “She’s not going to come any closer.”
“I kn—sorry,” Rho said, swallowing. “Sorry. I just—I haven’t seen infection that bad since the end of the war. They always looked like that before—”
“I know,” the Nameless said, clasping her shoulder briefly. “Sam thinks there’s signs of her fighting it off. I imagine that’s what Edis and Axel sent you out here for?”
“What? Oh, yes.” Rho shook her head and forced herself to look away from Quorra, who didn’t need to be stared at on top of everything she was going through. “Yes, Edis wants a status report. And also wanted me to deliver this to you all.” She held up the bag, then set it on the ground to open it and show what she had brought. “There should be enough energy in here to hold you for the rest of the centicycle, if you’re going to be out here that long.”
“Thank you.” The Nameless took the carafe from her, and she handed him the glasses as well. “Sam,” he called. Sam looked over at them. “Edis wants a report. Come over here.”
Sam nodded. He said something inaudible to Quorra, who nodded in turn. Then he stood and jogged over to where they stood, out of the infected area. “What’s Edis want to know?”
“We need to know if this plan of yours is working,” Rho said, quoting what Edis had told her. “Has the infection been successful? Is the Iso fighting it off as you predicted? Or will other action need to be taken?”
“It seems to be working,” Sam replied. “We think. Quorra is infected, but she’s showing signs of fighting it off. Human signs, mostly. User,” he amended on seeing Rho’s expression. “Human is what we call ourselves.”
“What kind of signs?” Rho asked. “Anything we’d be familiar with?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “She has a fever, and those weird marks on her skin.” Rho evidently looked even more confused, because he went on, “A fever is when our body temperature goes up. It means her body is trying to kill off the virus by making the environment unsuitable for it.”
“I understand… I think. I’ll let Edis know what’s going on,” Rho said as the Nameless straightened up, holding a pair of full glasses in his hands. He handed one to Sam.
“Drink,” he said. “You’ve been up almost nonstop, except for that little rest before the infection kicked in. You need it.”
Sam eyed the glass a moment, then knocked back an enormous gulp. He winced as he swallowed. “Damn. What’s in this stuff?”
Rho blinked at him. “It’s just a basic energy cocktail, good for exhaustion.”
“It feels like I stuck my tongue into an electrical socket,” Sam replied. “I mean, I feel better, but… Damn.”
Rho stared at him.
The Nameless had handed Ed the other glass. He took a cautious sip, and made a similar face as Sam had. “That tastes like Red Bull on speed,” he said. “Dear god.”
“More like Four Loko on speed,” Sam said. “It burns like alcohol.”
Ed took another sip. “Fair point. Tastes better than Four Loko, though.”
Sam looked incredulous. “You’ve had a Four Loko? You don’t seem the type.”
“It was on a bet,” Ed said sourly. “The compsci interns said I wouldn’t be able to code worth a damn after chugging one.”
Sam laughed. “Did you win the bet?”
Ed smirked. “Yes.”
Sam laughed again, and held his glass out to Ed. Ed clinked his glass against Sam’s, and they both took another gulp of energy, laughing together when they both winced again.
Rho glanced down at the Nameless, who had busied himself with another glass. “Did you understand a word of that?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he replied. Sam and Ed evidently heard him and laughed again. “Sam,” the Nameless continued as though nothing had happened, “I need you to take this over to Quorra. She probably needs it.”
“Right,” Sam said. He drained his glass with another wince, then took the full one the Nameless offered him. Rho watched as he walked over toe Quorra, who had moved a few paces closer to them. “Here you go,” Sam said to Quorra, who slowly took the glass with both hands.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. She said something else to Sam that Rho couldn’t make out. Sam smiled and responded quietly, and Rho looked away. They probably wouldn’t take kindly to her eavesdropping. She turned back to the Nameless, who now had his own glass of energy.
“How bad do you think it really is?” she asked.
“Sam’s not concealing anything,” he replied. “Not that I’m aware of. I can’t check that he isn’t, of course, but I trust him. She is infected, and badly, but she hasn’t become corrupted. That’s a good sign, if nothing else.”
“I hope so,” Rho replied. She turned back and watched Quorra and Sam for a couple micros, then excused herself. She had to report back to Edis and Axel.
The walk back to the Outpost felt more forlorn than the walk out. Rho liked the Users and Quorra, and the Nameless had always treated her well. She wished she could say the same of the programs back home.
Millicycle Five
Quorra had not been looking well for some time now. The Nameless could only observe from a distance, but when Sam had built a bed for her and made her lay down, he knew things were worsening, not getting better. The Nameless had rationed out half the carafe of energy already, most of it going to Quorra. Rho had come and gone again with another report on their progress.
Sam didn’t want to say how bad things were. The Nameless had approached the border of the infected area to observe, and he didn’t like what he saw. Quorra’s circuitry flickered weakly between white and red, and her exposed skin was covered in a grid-like pattern of infection. Even her eyes had turned red. It was far more advanced than the Nameless had ever seen in any infected program, and while that may have just been a result of her being an Iso, it did not encourage him.
The Nameless stopped Sam when he came out of the infected zone for a drink of energy. “Sam.”
Sam, who had slept very little since Quorra had become fully infected, looked at him, dark shadows under his eyes and a weariness in his expression.
“Are you prepared to do what needs to be done if she corrupts?” the Nameless asked.
Sam blinked at him. “What?”
“If she corrupts, she will need to be derezzed.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “You aren’t—”
“If you aren’t willing to do it, then I will,” the Nameless said. “We can’t risk any scrap of infection making it back to the Outpost, do you understand? I’m beginning to realize what she means to you, but if she doesn’t survive—”
“You’ll finish Clu’s dirty work?” Sam said darkly.
The Nameless stiffened. Memories swirled, threatening to rise, and instinct surged forward—
He stopped himself. He closed his eyes. Centered himself on the here and now. Opened them again.
“I’m going to assume you said that because you’re tired and not thinking,” he said evenly.
Sam glared at him, but his anger broke after a moment. He sagged and ran a hand down his face. “I—I’m sorry, Tron—sorry, sorry, I know you don’t—”
“You’re tired,” the Nameless said again. “It’s… all right. You’re not doing Quorra any good running yourself this hard, Sam. Get a drink, and then lay down and get some rest. Quorra will be fine.”
Sam’s eyes grew glassy. “I can’t lose her,” he said hoarsely. “She’s the only one—she was with Dad all those years in the Outlands, she knows—she’s all I’ve got, just about. And I’m all she has out there.”
“I understand,” the Nameless said. “Get some rest, Sam. I’ll check on her in a hundred micros, all right?”
Sam nodded. “All right. All right.” He shook his head, then trudged past the Nameless to the energy carafe. The Nameless watched as he poured himself a little energy and knocked it back, then walked unsteadily over to his bed and laid down.
The Nameless then turned his gaze towards Quorra. She lay on her own bed with her back to him. Her circuitry still flickered, but he noticed the light around the inside of her disc remained clear and white.
He chose to find some hope in this, because otherwise there was no hope at all.
Millicycle Six
When Quorra began glowing, even the Nameless was alarmed. He pulled out his disc, ready for the worst, for the light was white tinged with red, but Quorra did not stir. Instead he walked over to where Sam still slept and gently woke him.
Sam startled into consciousness, and blinked blearily at the Nameless. “Tron? What—?”
“Something’s happening,” the Nameless said. “I think you should go and check on Quorra.”
He sat bolt upright at that, and half fell out of the bed in the scramble to get to his feet. He strode with a purpose out into the infected zone, and did not seem to notice that the Nameless followed him. The Nameless kept a grip on his disc, ready to derezz Quorra if this was a sign of her full corruption.
Sam tried to wake Quorra, but she didn’t respond to him, even when he gripped her by the shoulders and shook her. She still glowed, and the light was white and seemed to be concentrated on her left arm. Where the Mark of the Isos would be, the Nameless realized.
“I don’t—what’s going on?” Sam muttered.
“Check her disc,” the Nameless said. “It’s the only way to be sure.”
Sam looked at him, and his eyes shifted to the disc in his hand. “Sure of what?” he asked.
The Nameless said nothing.
Sam rolled Quorra on her side and undocked her disc, which glowed nearly as brightly as the rest of her. He opened the disc, revealing her base code. With one shaking hand he tapped the isohedron here and there, zooming further and further in until the code resolved itself in a shimmering triple helix. The code was red, deep red, but there was one last patch of white, which Sam had focused in on.
Sam’s expression tightened. The Nameless wordlessly ignited his disc. They had to be ready.
The world seemed still for a nano. The Nameless clenched his jaw. He was ready. He would do it, he had to—
A segment of the infected code turned white.
Sam’s eyes widened.
After a micro, another segment flickered from red to white.
“Oh my god,” Sam murmured.
The Nameless’ disc went out as his hand went slack. “You were right.”
“We were right,” Sam repeated. “WE WERE RIGHT!” He surged to his feet, whooping loud enough to be heard back at the Outpost as he ran out of the infected area and over to where Ed slept. “Ed! Ed, wake up, we were right!”
The Nameless looked down at where Quorra still slept. She glowed still, but more uniformly white. Her code was turning back the infection, bit by bit. She had risked her life and emerged victorious. She could save them all, whether the Outpost liked it or not.
