Gem had rezzed her sleeve again over the mark, but every User and program present was still staring at the spot as if some message had appeared on her arm. The first to recover, Alan knew he had to act fast before chaos erupted again. Hands up, he tried to placate the tense figures before him.

"Okay then, unless anyone else has something incredibly important, shocking or possibly cataclysmic to the restoration of the system to share, let's take this to somewhere where I can sit down to fix what I repaired no more than ten minutes ago." Sam seemed offended by the way Alan had yet again become the authority figure, and the two conscious programs seemed to be trying to comprehend what a minute was. Shaking his head, Alan lead by example. Even herding cats at ENCOM is easier than this lot. Slinging one of Tron's arms over his shoulder, he began to drag the program back the way he'd came. One of these rooms has a couch…

Reluctantly Sam, Gem, and the other program- how do I still not know his name, anyway? -trailed behind Alan. Tron had flinched when Alan had gingerly hauled him up, but otherwise showed no signs of life. After turning into the only room in the short hall with a couch and laying the damaged program out on it, he faced the three before him.

"We need to talk." Sam cringed visibly; he'd heard that line far too many times as a teenager. Gem merely narrowed her eyes and the hooded program made no reaction, but Alan got the feeling he was listening keenly.

"I know that Kevin Flynn created CLU and the resulting chaos nearly destroyed the entire system. Sam and I are here to repair the mess left behind. You've got no reason to fight us." Gem wasn't buying it.

"No reason? So far you've aided the survival of my worst enemy and supported the traitor and his son. I have reason to hate you, User. Don't forget that." Alan sighed internally; that one wasn't going to see reason or even think of allowing anything but hate and vengeance to drive her thoughts for a long time. But, she doesn't seem too likely to immediately kill us, so I'll count that as progress.

"Why do you care about him in particular, though?" The search engine didn't care much for Tron, either, so Alan gathered. He was still shaken by how the program had leapt at his creation, seemingly ready to kill. He had trouble believing the program was nearly as hateful as Gem, though. He had been ready enough to defend the other program when he'd been syncing to his rewritten realized he probably owed the guy a bit of an explanation, anyway. Looking over at the motionless form on the couch, he became worried that if he didn't repair the program he might… die? In the real world a damaged program that wasn't running was stable and could wait to be repaired, but here, what rules did and didn't apply? Logic stated the exact same rules applied in the same way as the computer was unchanged, but still…

Before Alan could answer, Sam cut in, to Kaps' irritation, voice wary and demanding.

"Who the hell are you, anyway!" Kaps shrugged peevishly.

"I don't know, lemme calculate on that for a while… how 'bout one of the thousands of other programs in here besides Gem and Rinzler?" He might have been more polite with a User, of all the sorts to be rude to, but that had been uncalled for on the part of in a somewhat meeker tone, (he had just snapped at a User!) he clarified.

"Serial code KPSE-V2-1863212, designation Kaps, function search engine, primary directive: answer queries." Fight for the Users, create the perfect system, now those are cool primary directives. I answer the queries! Not nearly as intimidating. With some resignation he pushed back his hood at last, revealing his spiky brown bangs and the annoying bit that stood up on the back of his head. He didn't show his face around programs of unknown intent; anonymity was a powerful weapon and he utilized it heavily. If he wanted to trust these Users, and have them trust him, though, he would have to play a different game.

Flynn nodded, obviously somewhat relaxed in the knowledge that Kaps wasn't an immediate threat. Kaps, now reversely assured that Flynn was not an immediate threat, directed his focus back to Alan.

It was obvious the User was willing to talk, but he wasn't saying anything until he was sure Rinzler was not in danger of immediate deresolution. Megacycles of wheedling information out of sentries, Sirens, random functions on the street and even Rinzler himself had left Kaps fairly decent at the art of subtle interrogation. Rule number one- play it their way. Frankly he'd expected the User to be able to tell a damaged but stable program from a derezzing one without any help, but apparently the User world worked differently.

Without further ado, he strode from the Users and his (possibly ex-) employer to the poor security monitor. Talk about a glitchy cycle for this guy. It hasn't gotten much better for him since he wound up in the Sea. He took Rinzler's wrist in his hand, pressing his thumb down where a major circuit should be- and he felt the steady, if weak energy vibration of an online system. To his surprise, the program was still conscious enough to try feebly to jerk his hand away, growling faintly. His central functions had gone into involuntary shutdown to prevent further damage, but apparently the stubborn glitch was fighting the subroutines.

"He's fine," Kaps assured the Users, both of whom had tensed when he'd approached the security monitor. It wasn't what Gem wanted to hear, but he would deal with that once he knew why two Users dropped out of the sky to help a program who nearly killed one of them on several occasions. Alan seemed less than convinced, however. The look he shot at Kaps said, do I look basic enough to seriously think that that is what 'fine' looks like?

"Well, as fine as he can be with a gash in his head, but he's not going to derezz, if that's what you're worried about," he amended. Seeming somewhat relieved, the older User pushed the strange visorlike apparatus up again on his nose, opening his mouth to speak. Not strong or large enough to be a visor or any kind of armor; must be some strange custom of Users. Weird. I wonder what its function is.

"I wrote Tron in 1982, which is longer ago here than the system has existed." Older than the whole Grid! Kaps was impressed. And then he realized- Rinzler should be flattered that his programmer cares about him this much. I don't get the impression that all of them are this kind. Rinzler's creator wasn't done, though.

"Kevin loaned a copy of him from me to use for a 'project'- this system."Kaps was still having trouble believing the rational and slightly imposing figure before him had ever created a psychotic monster like Rinzler. A hero like Tron was, now that I can see… Kaps nodded, satisfied with that information for the moment. The creator returns to save the creation and his dying world. How poetic… I thought this sort of thing only happened in the entertainment audio-visual files. It fit with what he'd seen of the User so far, regardless. Flynn seemed to mostly be around because he was fast with a disk when needed and knew his way on the Grid. I'd rather work for these guys than for Gem any cycle. The unexpected realization struck with certainty and he couldn't say he was surprised.

As for Gem, she'd been watching the whole exchange from the background with a cool, detached air that Kaps knew veiled a calculating, heartless anger. And yet he still was thinking of severing his alliance to her, which could put himself directly in the path of that fury. I don't want to work for her, but if she needs me I've got one less disk headed for the back of my head. And I hardly think she'll see me associating with them as anything less than treason… While Kaps was muddling through those grim lines of code, the Users had gathered by Rinzler, who flinched and shuddered deeply when Sam gingerly removed his disk, but was too weakened to stop him. Alan seemed genuinely surprised by the reaction; he turned to Sam. But before he could question the younger User-

"Oh, calm down, they're just going to fix your head." Why did I just say that? Rinzler had reason enough to be paranoid about his disks being taken, and Kaps had somehow felt compelled to assure the program he wasn't being rectified again, remembering how he'd reacted to being rewritten from the outside. Both Users stared at Kaps for the moment, and he gave them a look that challenged them to question him.

"What did you do? Should that hurt him?" Despite Kaps assurances to Rinzler, Sam shook his head, unsure.

"I don't know… it shouldn't, I don't think… Dad took Quorra's from her to repair her arm and she didn't seem to get upset or feel anything." But it was obvious Sam was suddenly wondering if he really had caused Rinzler pain. These guys are seriously not a full cycle out of beta-testing, are they? Kaps folded his arms, still standing by the door, unimpressed. I'll have to stick around to give them a few pointers, I suppose.


Alan was suddenly struck by how little he knew on the inside of a computer- he could do anything on the other side of the screen, but here he wasn't even really sure how to access a program for editing. He knew the orange conjoined disks in Sam's hands had something to do with it, but he had barely inklings as to what to do with them. And Tron's reaction to having it removed has been certainly unsettling. Looking supremely unimpressed, Kaps called over to him,

"Of course it didn't hurt him- they're meant to come off, after all." The program was taking the attitude of, you're a User, why don't you should know these things, and Alan felt almost… embarrassed by his own ineptitude. Kaps had left the obvious question unanswered, however, and Sam swallowed his pride and prompted the search engine-

"Then why did he spazz when I took it off?" Demanded Sam. Kaps cocked his head at the word 'spazz,' but quickly recovered and went on to shrug helplessly.

"Probably has something to do with being unsuccessfully repurposed… whatever exactly was done to him, I doubt it was painless." There was pity in the program's voice, and that really made Alan start to wonder all over again. A search engine felt pity, a security program lay wounded before him, and he was in a temporary storage folder that looked an awful lot like some old motel in a extremely outdated computer system written by his vanished best friend in the eighties. The insanity of the situation was hitting home again, and he gamely tried to move past it to deal with the issues at hand.

"Right. Sam, do you have any ideas on how to do this?" Both Users stared at the disk, and then Sam found a small button on the underside that activated a holographic display. Obviously smug in his User powers, Sam handed Alan the disk, and he got the distinct feeling his godson was expecting to watch him fumble around clueless with the software. Please. Different world, same computer language, I'll figure it out. A three-dimensional holographic display appeared, and several different options were visible in the glowing image- Alan selected 'run diagnostic'. Let's see how this goes… The disk interface system was fast and easy to work with, the diagnostic results flowing onto the hologram as they were compiled; finding the damaged code was easy and he began repair immediately.

Despite everything, Alan was soon enjoying himself. Finding every damaged line was much easier with the holograph, and he was soon finished repairing the injury and began working with the corrupted code again. He'd obviously missed something important the first time; it was just a matter of finding it. This is a programmer's dream come true. No wonder Kevin loved this mysterious 'project' so much.

Settled deep into the original coding, CLU's handiwork was effective and efficient but lacked any innovation or real creative ability- a lot of clumsy copy and paste. However, there was something that gave him pause as well- there was a third hand in this coding. More sophisticated than CLU and slightly unique from his own writing as well, whoever or whatever had done this was well suited for the task. These routines typically overrode basic functions or blocked access to memory files, clever patches to bind Tron and Rinzler into a single entity. That's interesting…

011100110110000101101101

Alan was deeply immersed in the glowing code at his fingertips, a shadow of a smile on his face. Sam was impressed; it had taken the programmer seconds to figure out how to manipulate the programming using the disk, and here he'd been proud of himself for finding the switch to activate the display. Oh, well. Glancing over at Kaps, he was somewhat surprised by the look of total awe on the rather jaded program's face as he watched Alan work. I guess this is sort of like watching God at work to them, isn't it? Noticing Sam's eyes on him, the program looked away, suddenly a little sheepish, obviously slightly embarrassed of being caught gawking at Users.

010001110110010101101101

Rinzler had survived the cycle, and so had she, so the war wasn't over yet. The Users had made their allegiance clear- how could they side with that murderer? How could the ones who created my whole world be so blind? Her whole race, her kin, had died at those double disks and yet they called him by the name he'd no longer deserved, seemed intent on helping him. CLU was right- the whole system was corrupt, and the Users had let it happen. Looking over at Kaps, she saw the look of hopeful admiration in the foolish program's eyes. Gem turned away, disgusted and almost pitiful. He can't help it. He's just a tool made to serve them. There's no hope for him.

She slipped towards the back door, unnoticed. Kaps' eyes flashed to her, and she placed a finger over her lips, eyes warning him to remain silent or be silenced. Then Gem was gone, feet flashing light over the floor of the hall, she scooped up her cloak from where it had fallen by the door. Drawing her hood around her face, she vanished into the city. The gentle winds that caressed the Grid after a storm did nothing to cool the fire within. Gem, go! He'd knelt, hands on the ground like a User, desperately cobbling a second elevator shaft and one man platform beneath her feet, limited admin abilities at full capacity. She was totally alone, and it hurt and frayed inside. Those who had stood by her where gone; only her enemies remained to haunt her. The ground dropped out from under her as the platform dropped, and he vanished from her sight. Screaming, she called his name, he couldn't leave her and her sisters, they couldn't do this without him, couldn't play the game- "Zuse!" Then there was the explosion- it shook her to her core and roared with the sound of devastation, unbridled desolation. He fought for us.

And even the Users seemed not to care. Gem shivered, seething and grieving and plotting. Sobbing and shaking, she had stumbled to the door of her shared quarters beneath the Arena- they couldn't stay here, had to run, was she too late- The silence told her all she needed to know. No, no, no… she flung open the door to only the solitary dark form of Rinzler. Horror shot through her. It was too late. Back to her, Rinzler used the edge of a light katana to carve the symbol of the ISOs into the code of the wall, before using one of his disks to slash through it- the same mark every ISO killing site could be recognized by. Every detail of that night was sealed into her memory files. Rinzler's hands were shaking when he turned and saw her standing frozen. There was a long cut down his arm- they fought! They fought him and I've done nothing! And as he lunged at her, the electronic growl seemed louder, but her fear amplified everything around her.

The assassin leapt into her, leaving her very much alive as she crashed onto her back, Rinzler already sprinting away, up the platform to the Arena and gone. She lay there long after, shocked beyond immediate recovery, breath ragged with emotion and terror. He let me live. To this cycle, Gem didn't understand why. Some failure in his coding, undoubtedly. Shaking her head, trying to clear her tangled processes, she focused again on the present. She had an old friend to were preparations to be made. She had a plan.

AN: Gem is on the loose, and we have not seen the last of her!

Thanks to Cyberbutterfly, Zuzanny, Silvara and Xire for reviewing chapter eight! I'm trying to get around to replying to everyone personally, but even if I don't rest assured that I do read all of your reviews and appreciate every one.