AUTHOR'S NOTE

I have been quite complimented by readers who have noticed things in the Tron Legacy trailer that they read here first. I can't say how much it would please me to know that the writers of Legacy had stumbled upon Fallen Away and were inspired by it. What a wonderful thought!

And belated apologies for killing off Dumont! It kind of just happened as the story revealed itself. This storyline's playin' for keeps, I'm afraid.

Thank you for the reviews! I love hearing from you.

O'Bryan couldn't be more relieved to see Lora back at Encom. She had seemed a little out of sorts as he led the way to her office, but he figured it was just residual from the fall she had taken.

"Erika and Larry are down in the lab working on a way to neutralize the Rovers. Right now, the programs seem to have hidden themselves, but we'll find them out soon. Especially with your help."

Lora had slowly moved behind her desk and had run a hand over the glass top, a holographic image of the network system coming to light above the desk at the touch of her fingers.

"Yes," she said, not looking at him. "I'll be so glad to help." She seemed to devour the floating images of with her eyes.

"I'll get back to the others then." He turned to go, paused, and stepped back toward the desk. "We're going to end this, Lora." She didn't look at him. "I received confirmation that the Endcode has been activated. Hazel did it."

Lora's eyes locked on his. With a wave of her hand, the network diagram vanished. "The…Endcode."

"Yes. I don't know what she did or how she did it, but she activated Walter's code. She now has the power to change it all back."

"Does she."

"I know Walter had second thoughts about it. And now that I've been in there, I am not so sure myself. But what's done is done. Soon, for good or ill, things will go back to normal."

"I see. Well. That's a comfort."

O'Bryan nodded. "I knew you'd be pleased. It's a relief really."

Lora was silent for a moment, staring at him. "You'd better get back to the others. There's no telling what the Rovers will do between now and…normal."

"Right. I'll be downstairs if you need me. Lab 52."

As O'Bryan turned to go, the Lead decided to kill him. She reached behind her back to pull her identity disk, and throw it, to slice the pathetic user in twain. But of course, she was human. She had no disk. The man walked away down the hall from her office and out of sight.

The Lead's mind raced. Were any of Walter's programs left? Any of them that might know about this Endcode? No…Walter had done away with them all. The Lead remembered that filicide and a shiver ran through her. For microcycles she had expected her own annihilation by Lora. But it never came.

"Until today," she said to herself, her eyes flitting to the burned holographic pad off to the right in her office. Her resolve hardened.

"So this user, this Hazel, thinks she can destroy us? She has no idea who she is dealing with."

Another wave of her hand over the desk brought up a detailed map of the Encom campus of buildings. She placed her palms on the desk and information flowed through her skin in direct communication with the network systems. A moving blue dot appeared on a lower level of her building. O'Bryan was joining the others in Lab 52.

The mechanisms and protocols of the building security systems were no match for the Lead. In moments she had control of everything the security guards were seeing on their monitors and with a smile of satisfaction, she locked down any access to or from Lab 52. The lights went off in the lab and all computer function in the lab was cut off.

"So much for the users up here," she proudly lifted her chin. The image of the buildings vanished, replaced once more by the intricate, three-dimensional diagrams of the Encom computer networks. "Now for the user in there."

Her mind flew over the network, searching for the one human signature that could destroy everything.

"HELP!" Larry yelled at the top of his voice.

"WE'RE LOCKED IN!" Erika joined him at the door to the lab.

In the darkness, they could hear O'Bryan. "What could have done this? How could they have had this effect already?"

"CAN ANYONE HEAR US?" Larry banged on the door.

"It's too thick," Ericka sighed.

"Well, surely some alarm has gone off somewhere," Larry sounded irritated. "I mean, this building's wired for everything."

They were quiet for a moment. Erika's voice was strained when she spoke. "You don't think that they had another one up here, do you? One that we don't know about?"

"Another program?" Larry asked.

"Yeah."

"There's no way to know."

O'Bryan grit his teeth and grabbed for the phone in the dark. "We've got to warn Lora. If there's a program loose in the building, there's no telling what could happen."

There was a pause. Then Erika and Larry heard the phone slam down.

"Dead," O'Bryan seethed.

"Well, this is just great," Larry stumbled in the dark to find a chair. "We're back in a cell, for God's sake!"

"Maybe that weird download had something to do with this," Erika added, thinking. "Maybe it was one of them."

"Weird download?" asked O'Bryan.

"Something external," Larry said. "Some kind of download into the Encom system. We couldn't figure out where it was coming from or what it was for."

"That's all we need," O'Bryan let out a breath. "Let's just hope Hazel can put a stop to all this."

"Don't forget Toby. Surely there is something they can do," Erika sat down on the floor by the door.

Larry settled into a squeaky chair. "As long as Hazel and Toby are working on it, there's hope."

O'Bryan nodded to himself. "At this point, it probably wouldn't hurt to pray."

The three programmers lapsed into silence.

"Come out, little Hazel, where ever you are."

The Lead continued to search the network. She knew the human code would be unique. It must be. It would stand out like a beacon…if she could just figure out what it looked like.

It didn't take long. In a deeply secured processor, she found what she was looking for. A smile spread across her face.

"Deloria City. She's in Deloria city. How convenient."

The human code glowed in her mind—more complex, more beautiful, more breathtaking than any form of data she had ever seen. The users were truly unique. For a moment, the Lead quavered in her core…as if she were touching things she had no right to touch. As if she were sensing her undoing.

Again, she steeled herself. This was no time for fear or doubts. She would be slave to no one. Not even gods.

She began writing. Coding of her own design. Coding of destruction and dismantling. It streamed from her consciousness through her hands into the desk. As her writing took root, the backbone data that was Deloria City, the heart of the system and the bulwark of the Central Core, began to crumble.

"Consume yourself, Deloria City," the Lead hissed, "and take the Endcode with you."

Hazel pressed back against the wall, trying to stand up. The building was swaying and a terrible rumbling sound, like monstrous sea breakers, came from somewhere far below them.

Tron stumbled to the door of the room and ran out.

Tracer crawled toward Hazel. "We've got to get out of here!"

"How?" Hazel cried. "Where?" She made it to her feet as Tracer did the same.

Tron flew back into the room. "It's bad. It's the whole city! It's coming apart. I've ordered the Blue Fleet to evacuate everyone." Under his breath he added, "Users only know if we have time."

"We need a transport," Tracer swayed, then caught his balance. "Is there anything nearby?"

"Come on. We can find one on the next level down."

They ran out the door only to be met by a sudden explosion. Blown backwards, Hazel flew right back into the room as Tron and Tracer were thrown against the wall on either side of the door. The programs stumbled back in after her.

"It's too late," Tron gasped, glowing energy flowing from a wound on his upper arm. "The building's coming down."

The room leaned heavily to the left. They all pushed back up against the wall to the right.

"Out the window!" cried Hazel. "Maybe we can ride it down!" And in a flash, she was gone.

"Ride it down?" Tracer repeated.

"Just making it up as she goes along," Tron replied through gritted teeth as he climbed onto the sill and out. Tracer followed close behind.

The view was horrifying. The building continued to lean as the three clung to the upper side. All around below them, Deloria City was erupting in explosions of light that then seemed to fall back into themselves like voracious black holes.

"That can't be happening," Tracer said.

"This isn't an attack," Tron said in awe. "We're being…unwritten."

"Data wipe," Tracer added, fear in his voice. "We've got to get out of here or we're done."

Hazel listened to them, not really understanding what they were saying. She just wanted to stay as far away from them as she could so she wouldn't harm them. However, it appeared she wouldn't have to worry about her death aura any more. It would all end here for her. With a data wipe.

"Can we climb down?" Tracer yelled over the rising din.

In seeming answer, the building lurched over drunkenly. The three clung to the wall simply hoping that death would be quick.

Then something red caught Hazel's eye.

With a strange synthesized, thrumming sound like the beat of a humming bird's wings, a huge transport of some kind, an upside-down U shape rose into view in the air behind them. The controls were in the bridge and controlling them was a red warrior.

"Wulf!" Hazel cried out joyfully.

"Where'd you get a recognizer?" Tron shouted.

"No time!" Wulf yelled from the bridge. "Everyone in!"

The recognizer swooped in right next to them and they turned away from their wall perch, recklessly flinging themselves aboard. Tracer only made it half way, and Wulf caught him by the arm. Hazel had reached for him instinctively as well, but jerked back at the sight of her fingers.

The very tips of them glowed green. She sat where she was and stared at them.

Wulf flew the recognizer in and out of the paths of falling buildings and devastation. The destruction was mind-boggling.

"How is anyone getting out?" Tron yelled over the din.

Wulf looked grim. "I'm not sure that many are."

At top speed, the recognizer flew out of the city limits and off to a hopefully safe distance. Wulf paused their flight and turned the recognizer around.

Transports of all shapes and sizes spewed out of Deloria City from every direction. Solar sailors soared recklessly on dissipating transport beams, some spinning out of control and crashing to the ground. Above it all hovered the Central Core. The huge, glowing, golden ball lit up the sky, casting everything into stark, bright contrast. The city was falling in on itself, everything leaning into and breaking at the center. With a terrible shearing scream, the city vanished into a great black nothingness below it and the ground sealed up in jagged seams that criss-crossed a new, empty mesa.

In the bridge of the recognizer, there was silence. Tron and Wulf stared dumbfounded at the empty space where only moments before a vibrant city had been. Tracer had turned away and was leaning against the wall. Hazel's hands covered her mouth.

Wulf's voice was low. "Rovers could never have done this. That was user work."

Tron didn't seem to hear him. "It's gone. All of it. And the Core is unprotected. How…why?"

Silence reigned again but tension was building in Tron's body. His circuitry then flashed bright in anger as he shouted, "WHY?"

His cry shook them all out of their numbness. Hazel stood up, brushing her hands against her legs. "Th-there must be someone outside the system. Someone on Landfall helping the Rovers."

Wulf glanced at her, then away. "Like I said, user work."

Tracer turned away from the wall and shook his head. "There isn't a human being up there that would help the Rovers."

Tron turned an angry expression at the other program. "Why not? Users don't care about us." He waved a hand at Hazel. "Look at what Dumont's user did. They want to destroy us."

Wulf's ears perked up. "Wait. What?"

"It was a mistake," Hazel's eyes grew fierce. "Grandpa didn't mean it. He tried to fix it. We're not perfect, you know."

"Fix what?" Wulf asked, turning toward them.

Tron walked right up to Hazel. "But you're supposed to be, aren't you? You're the creators of everything. How can you not stop and think about the consequences of your actions? You're users. You wrote us."

"We're human." She met his gaze. "And you are patterned after us. You do your best, because you're like us. Our best is all we can do."

Annoyed, Wulf pushed himself between them.

"Wulf! No!" cried Tracer.

His cry came too late. Wulf shoved Hazel and Tron apart. "What the void is this about Dumont's user?"

Neither Tron, Tracer nor Hazel even had time to gasp. Wulf had a hand planted firmly on Tron's shoulder…and one on Hazel's. They stared at him in complete, helpless horror.

His gaze changed to confusion and strange surprise. He dropped his hands to his sides.

"Oh, God," Hazel whispered, her throat constricting.

A moment passed. Then Wulf raised an eyebrow in annoyance. "WHAT?"

Hazel could barely choke the words out. "You…you're okay!"

"Of course I'm…what is wrong with you people?"

Hazel laughed in relief and resisted the urge to hug him. She turned away. "Oh, God, he's all right!"

Tracer flung out his arms in exasperation. "She's a doomday machine! You could've been…well, not derezzed. Something worse. Just by touching her!"

"How was I supposed to know that?" Wulf objected. He eyed Hazel, and took a couple steps back from her.

Tron's shoulders relaxed, his anger spent and dissolved into relief that his friend was all right. He looked at Hazel. "It didn't work."

"Maybe you're okay," Tracer added.

Hazel looked at her hands, turning back to the others. They now saw the green glow in her fingertips. "No," she shook her head. "I think it's just taking its time. I think if Wulf had grabbed my hand, where the green stain is…"

Wulf looked at them. "I'm just going to stop asking."

"Free will." Tron said, meeting his friend's gaze. "If she touches you, you will lose your sense of self and your free will. You'll be nothing but simple code."

Wulf stared at him a moment. Then he glanced at Hazel's hands. "Huh." He snorted. "First the city, and now that. Users are coming up with all kinds of joy for us."

"I'm telling you," Tracer insisted, "it's not a user. It's a Rover. One of them has made it to Landfall. Listen, I think I can find their ship. It has a flight signature that we might be able to track."

"And what then?" asked Wulf.

Tracer let out a breath. "We might be able to send someone after them. To Landfall."

Tron gazed down at all the transports and programs that had fled the city and now were refugees. The remainder of Blue Fleet would be able to help them. "We're going after the Rovers then. They'll be on their way here, to the Core. It's what they've wanted all along." He looked at Hazel. "Unless you have a another idea?"

She returned his look, seeing the absence of Deloria City over his shoulder. "Until we think of a way to get me out of here, I'm with you." She held up her hands. The green had spread slightly further up her fingers. "Come what may." She paused, then added, "Thanks for not killing me, Tron."

Wulf threw up his hands. "WHAT?"

Tron smiled and nodded to Hazel. He turned to Wulf. "Story time later. Let's get that flight signature data into the recognizer and find the Rovers."