Chapter 5
Date: 24/8/2011
Boot up Complete
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GRDNL658
File System: KFTS-GRD
Total Size: 1 TB
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The unhinged cry was the order to attack. The large group hurtled towards the two programs, most being derezzed as Tron swiped through the air.
No cohesion within these things… like picking off automated bit programs.
Spinning in the air, Tron used the blows on the bodies of the reckless creatures as propulsion, saving energy as he punched through torsos, dislodging heads from their shoulders as they cracked and shattered.
Efficiency was key.
Bote deflected attacks as best he could, wrist still stinging as the ex-programs hit him wave after wave, concentrating so hard he barely realised how horrified he'd be at the shards of voxels that occasionally rained over him.
But the numbers were dwindling and, glancing at the dark shape nearer the gateway, he saw why.
Flash
Another down.
Flash
Another two.
Several controlled slices and movements took care of the last few, grace in every jump and twist in the air. Reminiscent of Rinzler, but far less… automated…
It was inspiring… but to a point. It still scared the pixels out of him remembering the figure back in the arenas, back in the districts, derezzing programs left right and centre.
As the last dispersed in a flurry of cubes, Bote watched as he landed, on hand to the floor for stability. As he stood up, he rolled a shoulder and replaced his disc. The helmet retracted as he beckoned Bote over to him. Bote complied and jogged after him out onto the plateau of the boundary, but almost ran into Tron's held out arm.
Tron hadn't removed his helmet and turned his head to look at Bote, who looked completely at a loss.
"Baton?"
Bote looked sheepish. "I lost my cycle baton in the delta sector of Argon…"
Tron didn't visibly show any signs of annoyance, but instead pulled out one of the spare light batons he'd collected on his travels from Tron City over the past couple of cycles. "Crash it and you don't get another one."
Bote just stared at the baton in his hands, cursing at how unprepared and pathetic he must seem in the metaphorical shadow of this high ranking security monitor. But the fact that the monitor had to carry spares in this system showed how lucky Bote had been making it this far without his code corroding too.
"Where- where are we going?"
Tron separated his light baton and let the heavy mod cycle form beneath him.
"I've got a job for you."
Bote did the same uneasily, making a small noise of irritation at the shunt the cycle gave him as it rezzed up. "Out there? There is even less out there."
Tron, turn the lights of his cycle's circuits off, leaving the lead lights on. "Stay behind me, follow my course. Do not deviate from it."
The messenger program's turquoise circuits dimmed slightly. "I haven't actually agreed to accept this… job."
The monitor leant back on the light cycle and Bote could tell the look that he was giving him from behind the visor was one of muted derision. He didn't have to say a word for Bote to wilt slightly and rev the circuits. "After you."
Tron rolled a shoulder and set off, heading out over the ridge and down over the mass of rocky terrain towards the one place left that may still have some answers.
Then he could hopefully find Flynn.
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Staring at the sheer faced cliff, he noted the dim glow from the aperture that had been created in the rock. Tron turned to look at his new charge and frowned slightly at the clumsy way he got off the cycle.
"Alright there?"
Bote derezzed the cycle and walked over, holding the baton out with a disgruntled look on his face. He hadn't ridden for that long in his entire run time and was, frankly, worried about the possibility of bowed legs. "Yes. And here."
Tron just looked at the baton, blinked, then back up at Bote. "What are you doing?"
"Giving it back." Bote said, returning just as blank an expression.
"Why?"
"It isn't mine."
Tron snorted what appeared to be a laugh and walked to the wall of black stone. "It is now."
Bote just watched him walk over and touch the wall, still holding out the baton. "Oh ok."
Giving away lightcycles? Bote rubbed his wrist and frowned.
Smoothing his hand over the granite cliff face, Tron frowned as he tried to find some entry patch or a rezzing port. But he jolted back as if burned suddenly by the rock, hissing through his teeth.
The young program jumped at the sudden loud noise within the silence of the outlands, looking over worriedly. "Are you ok?"
Images began to spark across Tron's vision, dark pictures fixing themselves together like fragmented pixels.
So bright.
He wanted to gauge his own eyes out.
You're riding.
Light jet.
Landing behind the leader.
You wait for orders.
A mere hand signal to move.
You walk.
He holds out his arm.
You all stop.
"Here."
Is all he says.
Bote clipped the baton to his leg and walked over, hands clenching repeatedly in worry. "er... Tr-" He couldn't say it. "Monitor?"
But the program stopped groaning and instantly stood up straight, turning on the spot to look in the opposite direction.
"Stand over there."
Bote stopped, freezing on the spot. "What?"
"Over there." Tron brought up a hand and pointed at a place barely 100 pixels away.
Bote pulled a confused face, but complied and slowly walked to the spot and looked back. "Here."
"No. Step one pace back." Tron said, hand back on the wall as if waiting for something.
"Here?" Bote called out, hands cupping his mouth.
But before the sound hand finished echoing, the wall shunted and slid to the side and derezzed. Tron felt the pixel disintegrate beneath his gloved hand and nodded before stepping backwards into the cavity. "Yes. Come on."
Bote realised that there must be a timer on that thing and sprinted, limbs flailling. "no no no no why running..."
Sliding to a stop in the tunnel, he looked up at Tron breathing heavily but was taken aback at the sight of him with a hand on a small blue light panel, an odd look on his face.
Taking his hand off the panel, the door rematerialised and Tron began to walk down the tunnel towards another oddly familiar doorway. Bote scrambled up and jogged to walk beside him, looking at the floor.
Walking through the next door, Tron turned and stood with arms behind his back, face blank as Bote stood next to him, who almost lost his balance as the lift panel began to rise. Tron looked straight ahead and spoke quietly, barely moving his mouth. "What did you run for? I was holding the door open."
Bote was silent for a while before answering indignantly. "I thought it was on a timer..."
Standing in silence as the floor raised, it was only when the platform completely came to a standstill that Tron walked onto the dim floor and stopped, glancing over the room.
Nothing.
No one.
Bote was about to say something when he recoiled as Tron just called to the empty room. "Flynn?"
The noise echoed and died, the room returning to the state of deathly stillness.
Tron walked forward and peered around the place, a worried expression beginning to cross his features. "Flynn?"
But the far-fetched hope left him when he saw the low shadow of the city in the distance.
Flynn wouldn't be here.
Of course he wouldn't be here.
Not when he could see this.
Tron folded his arms and watched the horizon, thinking things through before he did anything else.
That was a hopeful strategy. Stupid. Shouldn't rest on possibilities.
What do we know?
Bote stood silently, rubbing his forearm as he watched him. He could practically see the circuits sparking as he thought of plans and initiatives.
Looking at his feet, he sighed and thought of himself. So insignificant...
Should have just let those creatures pick my pixels to shreds.
"Bote can you tell me latest communications between a Grid interface and- Bote, pay attention."
He looked up and blinked, catching sight of a disapproving look.
"Sorry."
Tron frowned and stepped towards him. "I need your full processing capacity. I don't have time for idleness." He hissed.
Bote leant back. "Yes, ok. Sorry."
"Now answer me. Can you tell me latest communications between a Grid interface and a User interface?"
Bote sighed. "I can try."
"I am not for trying. You do, understand?"
Bote nodded, pain sparking up his arm. "Yes."
Tron pointed at the interface by the aperture, face stony. "Then go."
Turning to face the window, he cursed himself.
How could it go so wrong?
Sam sat back and watched as the computer screen just blared the worst message he could receive.
The Grid was corrupted.
The entire system...
How?
It was separate. In a portable memory device.
It was inert and should be until a boot up.
His eyes fell to the pager beside him and instantly, everything pieced itself together. Eyes widening, he shot up and grabbed a battery from the television remote, hastily putting it into the pager.
The pager beeped. Again and again... incoming messages from an unknown number.
Instead of trying to read the information in the text on the small liquid crsal screen, Sam pulled up an sms network program to transfer the messages onto his screen. Typing in the number, he watched as the messages listed themselves down the screen like a cascade.
20... 35... 46...
Sam just gawked at the messages, the first few being in the form of system reports from a security bot, eyes falling on fixed words; deteriorating, failing, poor...
As the messages went on, the official language and urgency made the reports clipped and short, soundbites of how the system was still failing.
Sam scrolled to the last few and stopped, chest tightening.
Communication: Immediate assistance required.
Communication: Flynn. Immediate assistance required.
Communication: Flynn. System Failing.
Chair clattering to the floor, Sam bolted out through the flat, hand gripping tightly to the memory card. "QUORRA."
The pager, left on the desk, blipped again.
Message from: JA307020
Communication: The Grid Is Dying, Flynn.
A/N: Thank you all for the support, guys :)
