A Digital Frontier- Chapter Five
Tron stumbled back into the containment facility, thanking the Users that Ram was so small and light. It was hardly difficult to carry the shut down actuary over his shoulder. He did his best not to think, instead focusing on the task at hand. Get Ram to Flynn and hope for a miracle. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was something to concentrate on. He readjusted the Program on his shoulder and pressed forward.
Flynn was exactly where the two had left him, crouched over a limp Program with a disc in his hands. He didn’t move when Tron approached, all his attention fixed instead on identifying and solving the damage that the virus had caused.
“This is gonna take some time,” he murmured to himself, scrolling through the damage code once more. “The damage is pretty extensive...I’m going to have to rewrite certain sections of it.”
Tron gently eased Ram down with a muffled grunt. “Flynn, there’s something more important you need to work on first,” he said quietly, crouching down beside his friend and brushing back his curls affectionately.
After a long pause, Flynn finally glanced up from his work. Tron hardly noticed. He’d pulled Ram into his arms again and buried his head in the other’s curls, breathing in slowly and evenly. He was trying so hard to stay calm, to stay relaxed, but Ram was his best friend. Ram relied on him, depended on him. He needed Tron to protect and save him. But now how could he?
Flynn’s gentle hands pried him away from the little actuary and Tron moved away, nodding tightly. He swallowed and got to his feet. The User knelt beside Ram and unhooked his disc, glancing up at Tron.
“I’ll do what I can,” Flynn promised. “He’s not completely corrupted like the others.”
Tron nodded wearily and slumped down against the wall. All the effort he’d been putting out in the past millicycle was hitting him hard, and the emotional stress of Ram’s condition wasn’t exactly helping. Yet still there was work to be done.
“No rest for the wicked,” he muttered, picking up another of Flynn’s User quotes.
With a heavy sigh, the security Program forced himself to stand up. Anon would be waiting for him and they could always get more work done together rather than separately.
Flynn glanced up from his work as Tron made to leave. “You should get some rest, Tron. You’ve been working too much and it’s going to take some time to get Ram back. You won’t be missing anything.”
“No, I’ve got work,” Tron murmured tiredly. “I’ve got a virus to hunt down.”
The User opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Norton, who entered the room in a great state of excitement.
“We’ve found it,” he gushed. “It’s coming from the data streams. All the infected Programs have accessed the system files in the past twelve millicycles. We’ve already pinpointed the exact location of the particle that’s been causing all the trouble, and there’s several monitors already on their way to shut it down. It’s over, Tron.”
Tron was far too emotionally exhausted to react the way he ought to at hearing the news. Instead he simply nodded. “Good. That’s...that’s good.” There was a short pause and he realized perhaps he should say more. “Great job, Norton,” he tacked on hastily.
Norton nodded and crouched down, following Tron's eyes to the shut down Program and continuing in a quieter voice. “Don't worry about overseeing the rest of this,” he said gently. “We can handle it if you'd rather sit it out.”
There was a long pause before the older monitor looked up. “I think I ought to,” he replied softly. “I need to make sure Ram's going to be alright.”
“Are you alright?”
Tron fell silent and looked away. When it became obvious that no reply was forthcoming, Norton straightened up, stretching.
“Well, I'll tell you, I'm certainly looking forward to shutting down for a few millicycles,” he chuckled to himself. “I'd suggest you do the same. Take care of yourself, Tron.”
“Oh. Yes. You too,” came the slightly delayed response. The older monitor's eyes were back on Ram, and he hardly even noticed when Norton left. Everything was starting to blur slightly at the edges and he knew it wouldn't be long before his power drained completely. Maybe the other Program had a point; a quick nap couldn't hurt, right?
Tron's eyes slipped closed and he shut down, his head drooping onto his chest.
He was hardly out for long. Barely half a millicycle later Tron rebooted at a meager sixty percent output. It wasn't much, but he was getting used to running on low energy, and it was better than before. He yawned and stretched, blinking a few times as the world came back into focus.
A whirl of white and a cheerful hummed melody announced the arrival of a visitor. Arms laden with several bottles of premade spiked energy, the Program known as Castor bustled inside, swaying slightly. His pale eyes brightened as they focused in on Flynn and a broad grin split his face.
“I believe you called for me?” he asked in a singsong voice.
Flynn chuckled and got to his feet, gently easing the bottles from Castor's arms and setting them down. “Good to see you too, Zuse. It seems you've already gotten started without us.”
Tron scowled darkly and got to his feet, casting the other Program a glare more suited to something Rinzler would wear beneath his helmet. “You invited him?” he shot at Flynn in disbelief. “This Program is a coward and a traitor. Why did you even rewrite him?”
Castor's smile tightened as his eyes grew cold. “Because I'm the best barkeep in the entire Grid,” he replied snarkily.
The Creator gave Castor a you're-really-not-helping-shut-up look before turning back to address his old friend. “Everyone deserves second chances, Tron,” he said simply, giving him a meaningful glance.
Tron caught Flynn's double meaning and fell into a sulky silence. Of course he would bring that up.
“We're on the same side, Tron,” Castor remarked brightly. “I'm wearing the blue circuitry now, see?” He held his arms out, showing off the tiny slivers of blue running down his sleek white robes.
“You haven't earned that, Castor,” Tron shot back.
“It's Zuse now,” the other Program corrected him. “And have you earned yours?”
In a flash, the monitor had Zuse pinned against the wall, his activated disc out and pressed against the pale flesh of his neck. Tron's eyes were cold and merciless as a harsh raw growl emanated from the back of his throat.
“I helped build the very ground you stand on. I have overseen and protected the Grid to the best of my ability and if you test me again I promise I will end you,” he spat menacingly.
“Tron!” Flynn called sharply. “That's enough.”
No one moved for a nanocycle until finally Tron backed off and tucked his disc away. Zuse swallowed, still feeling the sharp edge at his throat. He exhaled and passed a hand over his eyes. Point duly noted, Tron.
“Now, we're all tired, which is actually why I asked Zuse to come here,” Flynn continued, raising an eyebrow at the overdramatic Program.
“Ah. Of course,” Zuse replied a little shakily, straightening up and smiling tightly. Tron's sudden attack had sobered him up considerably. “Flynn, if I could have some place to mix and store drinks? I've got several more bottles that should be brought in.”
“Never were one to travel light,” the User said with a small chuckle. He reached back for a data pad and entered the correct coding quickly. After a moment, he looked over to the far corner of the room expectantly. Tron and Zuse followed his gaze, waiting.
Pixel by pixel the countertop bar began to rezz, complete with several bar stools. Tron was hardly impressed; he'd watched Flynn build and rebuild his digital home and was familiar with the process. He was close to apathetic to everything at this point to begin with, so he didn't even feel the usual flicker of awe.
Zuse, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He picked up his assortment of bottles and stashed them with a near inaudible squeak of happiness. Flynn chuckled in amusement and stepped forward to rap the bar lightly with his knuckles.
“Get on it, man. Something for every active Program in here, understand? And me,” he added as an afterthought.
“At your service!” replied Zuse, offering a flamboyant bow.
Tron sank back down against the wall again, gazing at Ram's still form. His disc was resting on the ground beside him, and for one insane moment he considered picking it up. For Ram to have caught the virus, he must've accessed the system files at some point. Flynn had mentioned that the actuary had indeed left just after Tron had, and had acted oddly upon his return. His abnormal behavior more recently could, of course, be credited to the virus. But maybe there was more to it than that. Tron couldn't help but calculate that there was a fair chance that the information he'd discovered had contributed to his decline. It was possible that maybe, just maybe, Ram had learned the agonizing truth of Tron's past. If he just checked his disc...
A whole nanocycle later, the monitor rejected the thought. No, Ram would surely have acted differently towards him if he knew. It would have been obvious, particularly to Tron, who knew the little Program better than anyone, excluding Ram's User, of course.
Which brought up a whole new slough of thoughts to consider. Had Ram's User given up on him, or had he been fruitlessly attempting to contact his derezzed Program all these cycles? Or was Flynn his User now since he'd rewritten him?
Too many questions with too few answers, and they didn't even pertain directly to Tron. With a rueful smile, the monitor realized that with the return of his best friend had come the return of his former sentimentality.
“Tron? Care for a drink?”
Tron blinked up at the white-clad Program, who was currently waving a glass of energy at him a slightly apologetic smile.
“No, thank you,” Tron murmured in reply.
Zuse dropped down to the monitor's level and nudged the glass into his hands. “Oh, believe me,” he said brightly. “You need this.”
With a twitch of his lips that could have been a smile, the exhausted Program let his fingers close around the proffered drink and took a sip.
User, why had he never let Zuse mix him something before? The energy surged pleasantly through him, causing his circuits to illuminate briefly and his eyes widened in surprise. He gulped the rest of it down greedily, relishing in the sudden, delicious power.
Zuse's smile widened. “I don't even you've ever had the pleasure of enjoying one of my famous drinks, have you?”
“I...can't say that I have,” Tron admitted, surprising himself with a returning smile.
“Come. I'll mix you another.”
Flynn was exactly where the two had left him, crouched over a limp Program with a disc in his hands. He didn’t move when Tron approached, all his attention fixed instead on identifying and solving the damage that the virus had caused.
“This is gonna take some time,” he murmured to himself, scrolling through the damage code once more. “The damage is pretty extensive...I’m going to have to rewrite certain sections of it.”
Tron gently eased Ram down with a muffled grunt. “Flynn, there’s something more important you need to work on first,” he said quietly, crouching down beside his friend and brushing back his curls affectionately.
After a long pause, Flynn finally glanced up from his work. Tron hardly noticed. He’d pulled Ram into his arms again and buried his head in the other’s curls, breathing in slowly and evenly. He was trying so hard to stay calm, to stay relaxed, but Ram was his best friend. Ram relied on him, depended on him. He needed Tron to protect and save him. But now how could he?
Flynn’s gentle hands pried him away from the little actuary and Tron moved away, nodding tightly. He swallowed and got to his feet. The User knelt beside Ram and unhooked his disc, glancing up at Tron.
“I’ll do what I can,” Flynn promised. “He’s not completely corrupted like the others.”
Tron nodded wearily and slumped down against the wall. All the effort he’d been putting out in the past millicycle was hitting him hard, and the emotional stress of Ram’s condition wasn’t exactly helping. Yet still there was work to be done.
“No rest for the wicked,” he muttered, picking up another of Flynn’s User quotes.
With a heavy sigh, the security Program forced himself to stand up. Anon would be waiting for him and they could always get more work done together rather than separately.
Flynn glanced up from his work as Tron made to leave. “You should get some rest, Tron. You’ve been working too much and it’s going to take some time to get Ram back. You won’t be missing anything.”
“No, I’ve got work,” Tron murmured tiredly. “I’ve got a virus to hunt down.”
The User opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Norton, who entered the room in a great state of excitement.
“We’ve found it,” he gushed. “It’s coming from the data streams. All the infected Programs have accessed the system files in the past twelve millicycles. We’ve already pinpointed the exact location of the particle that’s been causing all the trouble, and there’s several monitors already on their way to shut it down. It’s over, Tron.”
Tron was far too emotionally exhausted to react the way he ought to at hearing the news. Instead he simply nodded. “Good. That’s...that’s good.” There was a short pause and he realized perhaps he should say more. “Great job, Norton,” he tacked on hastily.
Norton nodded and crouched down, following Tron's eyes to the shut down Program and continuing in a quieter voice. “Don't worry about overseeing the rest of this,” he said gently. “We can handle it if you'd rather sit it out.”
There was a long pause before the older monitor looked up. “I think I ought to,” he replied softly. “I need to make sure Ram's going to be alright.”
“Are you alright?”
Tron fell silent and looked away. When it became obvious that no reply was forthcoming, Norton straightened up, stretching.
“Well, I'll tell you, I'm certainly looking forward to shutting down for a few millicycles,” he chuckled to himself. “I'd suggest you do the same. Take care of yourself, Tron.”
“Oh. Yes. You too,” came the slightly delayed response. The older monitor's eyes were back on Ram, and he hardly even noticed when Norton left. Everything was starting to blur slightly at the edges and he knew it wouldn't be long before his power drained completely. Maybe the other Program had a point; a quick nap couldn't hurt, right?
Tron's eyes slipped closed and he shut down, his head drooping onto his chest.
He was hardly out for long. Barely half a millicycle later Tron rebooted at a meager sixty percent output. It wasn't much, but he was getting used to running on low energy, and it was better than before. He yawned and stretched, blinking a few times as the world came back into focus.
A whirl of white and a cheerful hummed melody announced the arrival of a visitor. Arms laden with several bottles of premade spiked energy, the Program known as Castor bustled inside, swaying slightly. His pale eyes brightened as they focused in on Flynn and a broad grin split his face.
“I believe you called for me?” he asked in a singsong voice.
Flynn chuckled and got to his feet, gently easing the bottles from Castor's arms and setting them down. “Good to see you too, Zuse. It seems you've already gotten started without us.”
Tron scowled darkly and got to his feet, casting the other Program a glare more suited to something Rinzler would wear beneath his helmet. “You invited him?” he shot at Flynn in disbelief. “This Program is a coward and a traitor. Why did you even rewrite him?”
Castor's smile tightened as his eyes grew cold. “Because I'm the best barkeep in the entire Grid,” he replied snarkily.
The Creator gave Castor a you're-really-not-helping-shut-up look before turning back to address his old friend. “Everyone deserves second chances, Tron,” he said simply, giving him a meaningful glance.
Tron caught Flynn's double meaning and fell into a sulky silence. Of course he would bring that up.
“We're on the same side, Tron,” Castor remarked brightly. “I'm wearing the blue circuitry now, see?” He held his arms out, showing off the tiny slivers of blue running down his sleek white robes.
“You haven't earned that, Castor,” Tron shot back.
“It's Zuse now,” the other Program corrected him. “And have you earned yours?”
In a flash, the monitor had Zuse pinned against the wall, his activated disc out and pressed against the pale flesh of his neck. Tron's eyes were cold and merciless as a harsh raw growl emanated from the back of his throat.
“I helped build the very ground you stand on. I have overseen and protected the Grid to the best of my ability and if you test me again I promise I will end you,” he spat menacingly.
“Tron!” Flynn called sharply. “That's enough.”
No one moved for a nanocycle until finally Tron backed off and tucked his disc away. Zuse swallowed, still feeling the sharp edge at his throat. He exhaled and passed a hand over his eyes. Point duly noted, Tron.
“Now, we're all tired, which is actually why I asked Zuse to come here,” Flynn continued, raising an eyebrow at the overdramatic Program.
“Ah. Of course,” Zuse replied a little shakily, straightening up and smiling tightly. Tron's sudden attack had sobered him up considerably. “Flynn, if I could have some place to mix and store drinks? I've got several more bottles that should be brought in.”
“Never were one to travel light,” the User said with a small chuckle. He reached back for a data pad and entered the correct coding quickly. After a moment, he looked over to the far corner of the room expectantly. Tron and Zuse followed his gaze, waiting.
Pixel by pixel the countertop bar began to rezz, complete with several bar stools. Tron was hardly impressed; he'd watched Flynn build and rebuild his digital home and was familiar with the process. He was close to apathetic to everything at this point to begin with, so he didn't even feel the usual flicker of awe.
Zuse, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He picked up his assortment of bottles and stashed them with a near inaudible squeak of happiness. Flynn chuckled in amusement and stepped forward to rap the bar lightly with his knuckles.
“Get on it, man. Something for every active Program in here, understand? And me,” he added as an afterthought.
“At your service!” replied Zuse, offering a flamboyant bow.
Tron sank back down against the wall again, gazing at Ram's still form. His disc was resting on the ground beside him, and for one insane moment he considered picking it up. For Ram to have caught the virus, he must've accessed the system files at some point. Flynn had mentioned that the actuary had indeed left just after Tron had, and had acted oddly upon his return. His abnormal behavior more recently could, of course, be credited to the virus. But maybe there was more to it than that. Tron couldn't help but calculate that there was a fair chance that the information he'd discovered had contributed to his decline. It was possible that maybe, just maybe, Ram had learned the agonizing truth of Tron's past. If he just checked his disc...
A whole nanocycle later, the monitor rejected the thought. No, Ram would surely have acted differently towards him if he knew. It would have been obvious, particularly to Tron, who knew the little Program better than anyone, excluding Ram's User, of course.
Which brought up a whole new slough of thoughts to consider. Had Ram's User given up on him, or had he been fruitlessly attempting to contact his derezzed Program all these cycles? Or was Flynn his User now since he'd rewritten him?
Too many questions with too few answers, and they didn't even pertain directly to Tron. With a rueful smile, the monitor realized that with the return of his best friend had come the return of his former sentimentality.
“Tron? Care for a drink?”
Tron blinked up at the white-clad Program, who was currently waving a glass of energy at him a slightly apologetic smile.
“No, thank you,” Tron murmured in reply.
Zuse dropped down to the monitor's level and nudged the glass into his hands. “Oh, believe me,” he said brightly. “You need this.”
With a twitch of his lips that could have been a smile, the exhausted Program let his fingers close around the proffered drink and took a sip.
User, why had he never let Zuse mix him something before? The energy surged pleasantly through him, causing his circuits to illuminate briefly and his eyes widened in surprise. He gulped the rest of it down greedily, relishing in the sudden, delicious power.
Zuse's smile widened. “I don't even you've ever had the pleasure of enjoying one of my famous drinks, have you?”
“I...can't say that I have,” Tron admitted, surprising himself with a returning smile.
“Come. I'll mix you another.”