The Grid
Game Arena Observation Deck
The newly created program opened its eyes, and stared back at him. Ed Junior sat back in the chair, fingers tenting and eyes narrowing as he admired his work. The program had at first simply been an afterthought, a whim borne of his having toyed with the system templates, but now in its completion, this new addition might prove very helpful indeed, and it was far easier than creating another likeness code or a build from scratch. He had to marvel at what he saw...it really was a flawless replica, and yet with none of the previous version's glitches or memory, which of course would be quite a boon.
After a few seconds of silently meeting the replicated program's neutral gaze, he spoke in a soft, almost congenial voice. "You are Jarvis, version 1.5."
The program looked back at him and gave a sight nod. "I am Jarvis, version 1.5."
Ed Jr. continued, with a nod of his own. "You will serve as administrative assistant to the system."
Once more the program echoed his words. "I will serve as administrative assistant to the system."
Junior raised an eyebrow and gave a sardonic chuckle which seemed out of place with his placid smile. "There's really no need to repeat everything I say. And, for the sake of...well,...brevity,... you will be known as simply, 'Jarvis'.
The replica nodded in acknowledgment. And then Junior continued speaking, gesturing to the program who stood beside him, his own virtual twin.
"This is Clu, your system administrator. His job is to oversee the functions of this city in my absence. You will address him only as 'Your Excellency'. You will take orders from him, and the both of you will take orders fr-"
He was about to conclude with "from me", but just then a deep electronic voice interrupted him, the sound seeming to emanate from the simulated walls themselves.
"From me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Master Control."
Junior drew in a slow breath. He had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes during what was less of an introduction and more of a reminder of his father's seniority and omniscience. While the Master Control Program's voice resonated, the new Jarvis looked all around the mezzanine, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.
Though he couldn't see the being who was addressing him, he understood that it was a superior, and he calculated that the proper response would most likely be, 'Yes, Your Excellency',... but then just as he'd been about to utter the words the voice spoke again.
"You needn't waste my time with superlatives. Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere. When you have the occasion to address me, 'Master Control' will be sufficient."
The Jarvis replica stood with a confused expression, taken aback that the voice seemed to respond to his unspoken thoughts. Then he continued to look all around the room, and the deep voice answered again.
"Looking for me is pointless. I do not exist in dimensional form. I exist in every part and sector of this system, every miniscule bit and byte. I am this system now."
Jarvis hesitated a moment, processing this information, and then he simply nodded, his expression bland.
Eying the newly re-created Jarvis, Junior was pleased to see that none of the predecessor's pained attitudes seemed to be present in the new model. After a pause, he stood up, waving a hand dramatically and gesturing towards the chair, as he looked at his Codified Likeness Utility with a slight bow and a sardonic smirk.
"By all means, have a seat. The two of you have work to do. The games must go on."
The new Clu took a seat in the chair. Ed Jr. looked once more at his likeness, then turned to stride across the mezzanine towards the elevators. After a few steps, he stopped, and called back over his shoulder.
"I'll be off Grid. I'll be monitoring you from there."
And with that, Junior started forward again towards the elevators.
He'd just begun descending to the plaza level, when the familiar deep voice resounded all around him in the elevator, and the digital readout panel sprung to life with the line-by-line transcript of Master Control's words.
_YOU'VE INSTALLED THE UPDATES TO FLYNN'S SYSTEM.
Junior nodded, though of course there was no one to nod at, at least not overtly.
"Yes, I have. Most of them. However, it appears Flynn has taken the digitizing laser offline. So I couldn't update the parameters there."
_THAT ISN'T SURPRISING. I TOLD YOU NOT TO UNDERESTIMATE HIM.
_BUT IT'S OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE. I'VE ALREADY CORRECTED THAT SITUATION MYSELF.
Junior gave a small sigh, but didn't reply. The car had reached it's plaza-level destination and the doors slid open, but he knew better than to dismiss himself...it was always best to wait until the senior Dillinger chose to end the conversation, which, given his father's terse nature, would probably happen in fairly short order. And of course, it did.
_YOUR WORK HERE ON THE GRID IS DONE. GET BACK TO ENCOM. END OF LINE.
With that, the voice was silent, and the digital readout returned to its primary state, it's illumined display letters registering the elevator's docked position at the plaza level.
Exhaling another sigh, Ed Jr. stepped out of the elevator onto deserted arena plaza, still ruminating on his father's abrupt orders and dismissal...your work here on the Grid is done...get back to Encom.
He mused darkly. By his own reckoning, his work on the Grid had only just begun, but that was a point of contention about which there would be plenty of time for them to argue at a later date.
For now, of course he'd go back to Encom...he'd have to - it was after all his endpoint from the Grid, but considering the time-coefficient it was likely close to ten o'clock at night in Los Angeles. He had no need to stay at the office, and no intention of doing so. Instead he would clear up a few things on his office computer, then go home, relax, and celebrate his endeavors as a Creator on the Grid as well as the success of his new programs. The thought of that quickened his pace, and a satisfied smile crept across his features. Striding briskly through the arena exit, he dislodged the light baton from his side-holster, anticipating his transit to the portal.
Los Angeles
Encom Tower
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Alan Bradley walked down the empty second floor hallway, hands in his pockets, jaw set and brow furrowed in frustration.
He glanced at his watch. 9:42 PM.
He'd been at the office for four hours, well past when the workday had officially ended.
He'd walked the halls, checked all the programmers' labs, the board room, the mainframe room, and the staff lounge. He'd checked the parking garage – twice - and Ed Dillinger Junior's car was still there. Then he'd stationed himself at the second floor receptionist's desk for two solid hours, updating various software on the network system, all the while keeping an eye on the monitor's picture-in-picture feed from the hallway security camera in hopes that he'd perchance catch Junior emerging from his office.
No such luck. And this was getting ridiculous. Either Junior had decided to camp out inside his pitch-dark office, or else he'd gone to the Grid and maybe even gotten himself stuck there. Either way, Alan wasn't waiting another minute. He still had to go pick up Flynn at the arcade, and it was getting late.
He walked more quickly down the hall, rounded the corner, and slowed when he reached the elevators, glancing over towards Dillinger Jr's office door. The small windowpane beside the door was still darkened. So either Junior really was asleep in his office - which Alan doubted - or he wasn't in his office at all.
With a sigh, the older man pressed the elevator call button, and stood for a few moments. When he glanced over again at Ed Jr's office door, he could see from the small illuminated window that his office light was now on.
At the sight, he gave a start, and adrenalin surged unexpectedly. For some reason he felt compelled to not be standing there waiting in plain sight. Which is why he walked quickly away from the elevators, ducked around the far corner of the adjacent hallway and stood there quietly for a few seconds, until the elevator chime dinged loudly, startling him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Then he sighed, listening as the elevator doors slid open, and after a brief pause they slid closed again.
Slowly he eased over to the corner, just enough to peek around the edge of the wall and keep an eye on Junior's office door, staying poised and ready to duck back out of the way if it opened.
Why he wanted to duck out of the way he wasn't quite certain, because after all he'd just spent four hours' pretending to be working late at the office just for the chance to confront Junior.
But instead now he was hiding in the second floor hallway. In his own office building. At almost ten o'clock at night.
He felt more than just a little foolish, and grumbled silently in his thoughts.
...for crying out loud, Flynn,...you and your Grid...
...I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for you...
But then he stopped in mid-thought, realizing that just wasn't true...this wasn't Flynn's fault. None of it was.
Flynn had discovered the Grid, sure, but he hadn't made Junior or his father decide to invade it, to usurp it, to twist it in the ways they had. Flynn wasn't responsible for any of that. In fact, Flynn would never have even discovered the Grid to begin with if the MCP hadn't zapped him there for snooping too close to the truth nearly three decades ago. Ed Dillinger Senior had known about the Grid long before Flynn had ever stumbled upon it.
And as for the decision to stake out Junior at Encom, Alan had gotten that crazy idea himself, formulating it quietly in his thoughts as he'd driven Flynn to the arcade during his lunch hour that afternoon. It was why he'd told his old friend he'd be working late.
At that thought, Alan sighed, realizing now why he felt so foolish standing in the hallway peering around the corner. It wasn't because of Flynn. It wasn't even because of Junior,...though, wait, yes, actually it was, but,...moreover, it was because he himself really hadn't thought the repercussions of this through completely, until now.
He hadn't talked to Flynn or Sam about it, nor had he even really decided just what he'd say if he encountered Junior emerging from his office, even though every outward appearance pointed to the fact that Junior had been on the Grid.
And the more he thought about it now, this just wasn't a good idea. Even if he'd somehow been able to catch the young man 'rezzing in, even if he'd been able to see him re-materializing there before his very eyes, confronting Ed Jr. was going to be extremely tricky, because obviously there was at least one rather malevolent mind at work, meaning Ed Senior, but most likely two malevolent minds, seeing as how Junior had gone along with it. And in that case, the consequences of a haphazard or ill-planned confrontation could be potentially dire. If a confrontation were to take place farther on down the line, the Encom chairman knew he had no business going off by himself and trying to handle this like a loose cannon tonight, especially not without even talking to Flynn or Sam beforehand.
What he'd almost done would have been rash, and it wasn't like him. Not at all. He'd clearly let his anger at the Dillingers and his emotional attachment to Flynn override his better judgment. He sighed, suddenly thankful that at least he realized that now, instead of after he'd made the possible mistake of trying to apprehend Junior on his own. It was bad enough that he'd wasted four hours after work staking out Junior's office door, silently stewing with resentment the whole time. Which, now that he thought about it, was just rather silly. No wonder he felt foolish.
That was it. He wasn't going to stand here hiding in the hallway anymore.
He squared his shoulders, marched right around the corner and back over to the elevators, then pressed the button. Glancing casually over to Junior's door, he saw that the office light was still on. Alan was never more grateful to hear the soft chime when the elevator car finally arrived and the doors slid open.
Los Angeles
Flynn's Arcade
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Kevin had worked all afternoon and into the early evening getting the place vacuumed and dusted. Then he'd finally settled down in the lab to spend some time poring over the system, which had turned into a three hour long troubleshooting session.
The issue had been the laser, and how to reconnect it safely without the same automatic digitizing process spawning itself as before.
He'd scoured every bit of the coding, and had seen no sign of any anomaly or deviation which would cause the glitch again. The programming looked exactly as it should have, and the system was once again password-dependent. After that discovery, he'd finally reconnected the laser, but he'd still jumped out of the way of it, half-expecting it to begin scanning the chair of it's own recognizance. But it hadn't. Relieved, plus feeling a bit silly, he'd then left the laser connected and had stuck the metal trash can over the barrel of it just as Sam had done before. He'd felt even more silly for doing that, but, his thinking was...worst-case, if the thing decided to start zapping again, the beam would simply hit the shiny silver aluminum of the trash can, ricochet back to the emitter and then burn itself out. At least that way he'd only be rebuilding the laser and not re-living his captivity in the Grid.
And so, having reconnected the laser and insured that it couldn't zap him randomly from behind his back, he'd sat down at the interface and scoured the entire system once again, just to make absolutely certain everything was as it should be. Finally, when he'd determined that the laser's programming was indeed intact, he'd removed the trash can, pushed the chair back to it's place at the desk, and gone upstairs, realizing how very tired he was.
He'd then climbed the steps to the upstairs loft, plopping down on the couch and reckoning he could take a short nap while he waited on Alan to return from Encom.
But once he'd stretched out on the couch, "closing his eyes for just a few minutes" had led to his falling soundly asleep for over an hour.
And now a panorama of vividly familiar imagery unfolded behind his closed eyelids.
...at first the dream seemed to be simply an unsettling replay of memory. The portal. Clu was there in front of him, walking towards him. A few meters away, Sam stood beside the portal beam, tears in his eyes and anguish in his face, holding the identity disk aloft in the light.
But that's when he became lucid, at least enough to realize things were different from the way they'd actually transpired.
First of all, Quorra wasn't there at the portal beam beside Sam. And, second, while Clu was walking towards him, slowly, haltingly as he spoke, he wasn't saying what he'd said before. His voice wasn't angry, nor was he glaring intensely. Instead, his eyes were grave, filled with emotion, and he shook his head very slightly as he searched his Creator's eyes, "Kevin, are you sure?"... and with a slight nod, he answered Clu, with his arms outstretched. He heard himself saying something in reply, something which made no sense, but his voice broke with emotion as he said it ..."Yes, Clu. It's the only choice we have now. Otherwise he wins"... and then Clu was walking toward him again, tears in his eyes and just the hint of a sad but peaceful smile on his face. As he looked back at the program who'd become to him just like another son, he returned the same sad, peaceful smile. They each gave the other a slight nod, locking eyes, and then he knew they were in agreement. They stepped towards each other, reaching to embrace. He could see sections of Clu's pixels already alight, cubic bits of code-structure already pulling themselves apart in several places, as was his own. The magnetic force between them was so strong it shook him, and the winds swirling around them were deafening. Just above the roar he could hear the faint sound of someone calling his name...
"Flynn?..."
Alan's voice was soft, as he leaned over the couch, gently shaking Kevin's shoulder. "...wake up..."
Kevin was clearly dreaming, his breathing restless and his brow furrowed in distress as he mumbled something unintelligible. This time Alan reached and shook him by both shoulders, then spoke his name again more loudly.
"Flynn!..."
Though still dreaming, Kevin's eyes flew open wide, and then with one sweep he captured Alan in a tight embrace, bracing himself for the inevitable reintegration, expecting to be pulverized into a billion tiny particles of light, preparing to hear the thunderous sound which would accompany the mass destruction of the Grid.
Instead what he heard was Alan's surprised voice, as the older man grappled at the side of the couch in order to keep from tumbling forward.
"WHAT THE- ...FLYNN!...what are you doing!...wake up!"
Kevin blinked, the dream dissipating quickly, and he realized he was in the arcade loft. Instead of reintegrating with Clu, he was apparently laying on the couch and holding onto Alan Bradley with both arms in a death grip. Just then he recoiled, quickly releasing Alan from his arms and looking around the dimly-lit room, still slightly disoriented and chest heaving with frantic breaths.
The older man stood up straight again, looking down at him with a peculiar frown, and straightened his glasses.
Kevin sat up slightly, resting his weight on his elbows, and staring up at Alan in confusion as he caught his breath. Then, blinking and slightly embarrassed, he cleared his throat and mumbled in a voice gruff from sleep.
"...uh...sorry..."
"No problem..." Alan waved a hand, then crossed his arms, raising his brows as he saw the troubled, ashen look on his friend's face. "...you alright?"
Kevin nodded, rubbing his eyes, and then spoke, his voice still a bit hoarse.
"Yeah,...just-...man,...weird dream..."
Alan looked at him, brows still raised. "Yes, I gathered that."
Kevin sat up, placing his feet on the floor and dropping his head into his hands, raking his fingers through disheveled hair. Then he stared down at the floor, still visibly shaken.
Alan's eyes narrowed inquisitively. It unsettled him to see Kevin this way, even if it was only because of a dream. But after another moments' pause, Kevin had shaken the unsettling imagery from his mind. He raked his hair back again, and stood up slowly, stretching his arms. Then he slapped Alan on the shoulder and gave a sardonic grin as he walked past him.
"Hi honey. Back from work already? Sorry I didn't fix dinner."
Alan rolled his eyes, then frowned and gave a disgusted smirk. "Funny."
Kevin stopped halfway across the room, then yawned. "No,... really,... I am,... 'cause I'm starving. What time is it?"
The older man glanced at his watch. "Ten-fifteen. I assume you're done here for the night, so why don't we get going. We can stop to grab a bite to eat on the way to the house if you're that hungry."
Kevin shook his head. "Nah, I'll survive. I'll grab somethin' when we get home. Let's split."
Alan gave a half-chuckle, following him down the stairwell. "You do realize no one says 'split' anymore, don't you?"
Kevin waved a hand in the air as he descended the stairs. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a relic."
Alan stopped in the tiny hallway as Kevin proceeded into the main room of the arcade. "Don't you have to shut down the system, or... put it in stand-by?"
Kevin shook his head, checking to make sure the Tron game machine was all the way in position against the wall, then he looked up at Alan.
"Nope. That would affect the programs on the Grid. Just gonna' leave it be and lock up the place."
Alan nodded, following behind Kevin as they walked to the door. It was still very surreal to think that within that small single server down in the old lab there was an entire world of beings whose lives depended on it. If he stopped to think about that for very long, it really did turn the whole view of technology, as well as the view of this world itself, completely on its ear. Not only that but it was veritable proof of Einstein's theory of relativity, and, now he knew why Kevin had been so very obsessed with writing "The Digital Frontier". It was, as Kevin would say, 'heavy stuff'.
And so, being already mentally-tired enough for one day as it was, Alan forced himself to change the subject. Reaching into his pocket for the keys to the front door, he was just about to divulge his antics staking out Junior at Encom, when he suddenly glanced over at Kevin, who was standing there with both arms splayed open, an expectant look on his face.
"What?" Alan's eyebrow raised, and he looked at him.
Kevin looked around at the room full of newly-cleaned dust-covers, and then raised both his brows. "Whaddya' mean, 'what'?... You didn't notice? Busted out the old vacuum cleaner, which still works by the way...took me about three hours,... but this place is spic and span, man!"
Alan looked around the room, eyes widening when he saw that the machine covers were all free of dust, as was the floor.
"Well look at this! It certainly is!" He looked back at Kevin, with a grin. "Nice work! No wonder you conked out on the sofa."
Kevin nodded, looking around again.
"Yeah,...man, the wheels on that old shop-vac, and the hose,...it's just like wrestling with an octopus. Between that and working on the system, I'm pretty sapped. But at least now this place won't make you and Tron sneeze."
Alan smiled. "Oh, I think Tron's much more sensitive to dust than I am, but it sure looks a lot better in here." He paused, glancing around again to see that Kevin had even dusted away the cobwebs from the old brick walls.
"You know, Flynn,... we could've hired someone to do all this. You didn't have to."
Kevin nodded. "Yep. Kinda' wanted to, though. Used to clean this place myself all the time. It's good therapy..."
He paused, leaning over to pick up the handle of the push-broom which was still laying on the floor. He stood back up, suddenly wincing, leaning the broom against the wall and then reaching his hands to his lower back. "...'course, that was twenty-something years ago. Think I'm gonna knock on that spa for a while when we get home."
Alan nodded as he put the key in the deadbolt and opened the door. "I think you should. You deserve it."
Then he adjusted his glasses, and gestured with a tilt of his head and a smirky grin. "Come on,...let's split."
Chuckling at his old friend, Kevin matched the grin, and the two men left the arcade, locking the door behind them.