INTERLUDE 02: Consequence

(May 1989 - SF1282 - TRON City, Administrative Office - Deleted Program Storage and Processing):

Yori has lost track of time, Tron couldn't tell how long they'd been the cell. Days, months, years? He wasn't sure what Flynn had in mind with these holding cells when he installed a scrambler, but if the goal was distract the prisoner from the passage of time, it failed miserably in that sense. All they could think of was time.

Time motivated their actions, time brought them to where they were now. Time was allowing Clu to go unpunished for what he was doing to the system. There wasn't a day that went by that they don't think about what they did. Yori regretted opening Clu's holding cell every single mircocycle of her confinement, Tron simply wished he'd fought harder than he had. The line between his defeat and Clu's success blurred, he couldn't calculate when he'd lost the advantage of victory, assumed it was an error in his processing code.

He shouldn't have been defeated as easily as he had. Between the two of them, he was the more experienced fighter, Clu was just an upstart program, barely out of his "boyhood".

His damaged arm went unrepaired, Yori did what she could to keep it from derezzing with her own energy, but it wasn't enough. Tron felt helpless in his own body, he hated the fact that he couldn't so much as move without causing his system to shut down to reboot and repair itself. It wasn't healthy, he was sure he was loosing important functions and causing Yori to worry unnecessarily.

Clu's voice boomed everywhere around them, every day there was a new announcement, a new rule. The Guard were pulling more and more programs off the streets and throwing them into the cells, the whispered fears of being derezzed in the game arena grew more and more intense the longer they stayed in that tiny cell.

Tron could only wonder what happened to everyone they knew as none of them had shown up in imprisonment. The likely possibility was that Clu derezzed them on the spot when he sprung his coup onto the unsuspecting programs and isomorphs. He could only pray the lack of mention Clu was giving Flynn meant he was fortunate enough to get away from the malicious program. The Users could grant him that much peace of mind.

Then there was Ma3a, he had no idea what happened to her or rather what would happen to her and ISOs when Clu decided to rid the system of their presence. The reality of their situation told him Clu would kill them without a moments hesitation, but would an entire system of programs be strong enough to combat the rule of one allow this to happen? Would they let their contempt for the ISOs blind them so much that they would allow the death of innocents if it was within their power to stop him?

Opening his eyes, he found himself face to face with the wall beside him. He turned his head to the left, suddenly hyperaware of the bench he was lying on. Yori sat on the floor, on leg up against her chest and an arm resting on its knee. She looked as defeated as he felt. The light of her circuits were dull, her hair hung lifeless on her back and shoulders. Her eyes were downcast, watching her right hand's fingers trace the grooves in the tile. He watched her repeat the process over and over again, trailing her finger across the grove as if she could unlock its secrets with the repetitive motion.

"Yori-" He winced at the spark in his voice box. She looked up, startled by the sound of his voice. Her troubles forgotten, she rose from the ground and started toward the flat, uncomfortable bench. She managed a small smile for him as she sat on the edge of the bed, Tron sighed shortly as her hand made itself comfortable on his chest.

"How are you?" She asked softly.

"Tired," He replied wearily. "Angry." Yori nodded understandingly. Tron's inability to move and the fact that they couldn't escape wore constantly at her mind. This wasn't the User's equivalent of a "time out", they were trapped inside this cell until one or both of them were thrown into the games or Clu derezzed them. She could only wonder what repurposing could mean for them.

Flynn had explained plainly enough that programs didn't have the permissions or comprehension to create fellow conscripts from scratch, only reprogram them. It wasn't like absorbing functions, but it was equally as violating of a program's freedom of choice and existence. It wasn't condoned by any program, except one infected by a corruption, like Abraxas, who lived to destroy or ruin the script of a system. Clu wasn't a Z-lot, he knew better than to mess with the coding of a program, so the reasoning behind the mass repurposing that was going on unsettled her to no end. It was as if she didn't even know him anymore. "While you were recharging Clu made another announcement," She said.

"What about?"

"He's spreading anti-User propaganda, he's saying the reason for all our problems were a direct cause of Flynn's negligence to his duties as primary administrator," She explained. "That all of this was apart of a greater plan that would allow the ISOs to rise to power."

"It's not true," Tron sighed.

"Well, I know that, and you know that, but-"

"The opinions of many are easily swayed given time."

Yori nodded solemnly, trailing her finger across his chest. "I miss your old circuits, there's something so impersonal about these tiny points of light," She sighed, plucking the raised parts of his chest armor. Tron shrugged his one good shoulder, doing his best to ignore the pulse of pain that ran across his shoulder blades into his damaged arm. "If we ever get out of this, I'll ask Flynn for a circuit upgrade," Tron murmured.

"That'd be nice," Yori beamed at her lover despite her mood, Tron was glad to see a genuine smile upon her face, he'd rarely been conscious for long to see any expression outside of her defeated one. But, what was there to smile about now? For all intents and purposes the world Flynn created was about be remolded to suit the vision of "perfection" in the eyes of his errant program.

He knew Clu didn't know any better, but it didn't make Tron any more or less forgiving than he was currently was. Silence enveloped them for the second time, Yori was content with not speaking and Tron allowed himself to become lost in the "what ifs" and guilt of failing his friend.

The sound of approaching footfalls startled them out of their silent contemplation, Tron started to sit up but Yori's firm hand kept him down on the bench. The transparent barrier of energy that kept them confined inside their cell retreated as four figures appeared at the threshold. At the forefront was Clu, dressed in his long coat, his circuits had adopted the mustard yellow color that seemed exclusively his alone.

Behind him stood two of the Guard and one hulking program that stood four heads above everyone else. His circuits were blood red, he carried a staff the same length of his body and had a face that reminded Yori of muzzled shark. An ICP she realized a moment later, guardians of the portal and transport mainframes.

Clu surveyed the general lack of space in cell before focusing his attention on Tron and Yori. "Greetings programs," He said as he stepped further into the cell. "I hope the accommodations have been kind to you these past cycles."

Tron glowered at Clu and made a move to sit up again, Yori kept her hand firm against his chest as she pulled her gaze away from the ICP standing behind them. "Cut the pleasantries, Clu. What is that you want?" Yori practically snapped. The shock in both Tron and the opposing party was evident on their faces, but Yori was oblivious to everything except her own anger.

"My, my, aren't we a sour pickle this evening? But, if you don't wanna talk, I guess we can jump right to it," Clu cast a glance over his shoulder. The two Guards stepped away from each other, allowing the ICP to step through where they once stood together. He bent down to enter the cell and started toward Tron and Yori. Clu smiled appreciatively up at the ICP as he stepped aside.

With an ICP, it was impossible to gauge what they were feeling as their faces provided no presentation of emotion and left most to the imagination. "Congratulations, program," He began with a salute. Yori blinked twice in confusion, Tron wrapped his fingers around her wrist, unsure of what this conscript was trying to pull.

The ICP lowered his arm and placed his hands behind his back. "You've been selected by the Creator for repurposing, effective immediately," The ICP finished.

Repurposing, the word rang in both their heads like a death rattle. Yori's complexion dimmed considerably, her body tensed with dread as Tron looked to the ICP and to Clu's repulsively smug expression. "You can't be serious, Clu," Tron couldn't hide the tremor in his voice. "Not-"

"I'm completely serious Tron," Clu spoke as if he were humoring a small child. "Neither you or Yori are exempt from this process. It's a crucial part of reintegrating everyone into the new system order." He smiled coolly as his eyes met Yori's. "I promise it won't even hurt."

"Sir?" Clu looked to the ICP and nodded his head in the affirmative. "Go ahead, Rttask."

The reality of their situation hit Tron. His grip on her wrist tightened a moment too late, Rttask stretched his hand forward and grabbed Yori by the arms, hoisting her off the ground. Yori was too startled to do anything except gasp, the countermeasure program's strength was immense. She felt her circuits whine in protest against the pressure applied to her arms a she was dragged - carried - away.

"Wait!" Tron reacted without thinking about his condition, he raised both his arms and grabbed hold of Yori's ankles. His rebellion, however, lasted only a moment as the pain from his damaged shoulder returned tenfold and traveled across every open circuit on his body. His entire upper body gave way beneath the agony, Tron hit the floor chest-first, writhing in pain. "Tron!" Seeing him like that was enough to cause Yori to struggle, Rttask, however, paid it no mind and continued out of the cell. "Tron!"

Tron watched from the ground as Yori was taken away from him, he struggled to get his body to do his bidding. No matter what he did he couldn't move from the place he'd fallen, he couldn't get to her. "Yori!" He bellowed her name with all the strength he could muster. Clu watched his friend on the ground, a grin on his face.

"Tron, your embarrassing yourself, man," Clu shook his head in amusement as he started toward writhing program, extending his leg he nudged the injured shoulder with nonchalance, blinking twice when Tron raised his head to meet his gaze. "Clu, you can't do this, it isn't right," He hissed. "This isn't what Flynn would've wanted for the system."

The smile vanished from the avatar's face, dissolving into a frown that reached his eyes. He kneeled down, one arm draped across his knee as he studied the underlying rage seeping through the pained expression of his former comrade.

"What Flynn wants or wanted no longer applies to me or this system. He's gone. Now I am truly the creator he should've been to our world," Clu said, the smile returning to his lips. "All his errors will be wiped clean, order will be restored, and you and Yori will be apart of this transformation. All of the change will be thanks to you two."

"What about the Ma3a and ISOs?" He asked despite his anger.

Clu shrugged as if the question bared little importance to their conversation. "Well, they'll be dealt with, of course," He replied. "The system can't have unpredictable programs running loose if perfection is to be reached. You know that, man."

"What I know is that you're going against everything I or Yori stands for," Tron rasped. "Do you think if you do this to her, she'll be any more accepting of your ideals?"

"I don't think it'll matter, buddy," Clu titled his head to the side in mild interest, his eyes rolled slowly in a half circle before he rose from ground. "You'll see, Tron, everything will work out for the best."

Tron watched helplessly from the ground as the saboteur departed from his cell. Clu's last words rang in his head like the recession of a bell.

Author's Note: We've come to the end of road for 1989 (for now) and it'll probably be quite a while before another interlude shows up in the storyline again and even then, they'll probably only be necessary if Flynn Senior doesn't end up playing narrator for the parts he was present and accounted for (shrugs). The storyline will now shift to the present of 2010, with Chapter Six, "Futures", which is a set up for Jet and Sam's adult persona's.

Updated: 8/27/2018