1. Eighteen Floors Across the Street
"Nighthawks by The Midnight"
Argon is a young city in comparison to the rest of the Grid. Far out in the Outlands and cycles away by train from Tron City, it's no wonder why it was one of the last to be secured by the Occupation.
The deep rumbling roar of the Recognizer's thrusters rattles the glass of the apartment. Odd how I never considered it my apartment, never saw it as a home. Only a place to rest while I wait for the next cycle to start. Dreamless nights always turn into groggy mornings woken by the punctual patrol of the Recognizers.
Who needs a clock when the Occupation wakes you the same time every cycle? With a groan, I slip out of bed and start my routine. Glass of energy, clean teeth, stretches, disc inspection... then an extra pectro to spare. Usually spent on the couch and staring out at a small piece of Argon 18 stories above ground level.
Unfortunately, most of my view consists of identical-looking balconies on the twin apartment building across the street. All are sparsely decorated outside the occasional table and chair. The sliding glass doors of the apartments all have their blinds shut. All of the blandness of other's Program's lives help me enjoy the dancing lights of distant freeway traffic. The highway bends and weaves between large buildings after breaking out of the mountainside.
Lights dance as they go in and out of view, weaving between other buildings or vehicles. There's a flow of movement that's rhythmic, but not systematic. There's nothing more soothing. Stillness is nothing more than complacency.
The only way to follow the highway into the city is by standing out onto my own tiny balcony. And lately, I've been too distracted by something else that catches my interest.
The blinds directly across from me slide open as a female Program steps out onto the balcony and stares out at Argon. She may be the most beautiful woman I've seen in my short existence. Long cascading brown locks are lifted in the breeze from the ocean off in the distance. Her features are sharp and slender, which accentuate her full lips. But my favorite is her eyes. Even at a distance they're sharp, full of intelligence. It's difficult to tell their color, but they're dark, probably brown.
Over the past mylacycle I've found myself watching her in the morning as she's woken by the patrols as well. She showed up at the same time as the Occupation, the silver lining of Clu's army. Thankfully, she isn't part of them.
She's usually garbed in medic green with the emblem on her shoulder, other times her basic circuit color, white with red secondaries.
The rumble of the morning's second patrol could be heard in the distance. We both turn our heads and watch as the Recognizer comes closer and eventually passes between us.
Her hands keep her hair down from the patrol passing winds. It signals a pectro's past, and thus the two of us have to go to work.
She put her hair into a tight bun before turning and disappearing into the darkness of her apartment.
"Beck!" Zed calls out to me from across the garage. I wince internally. Just what I need, the announcement of my arrival. My late arrival.
"Hey Zed, sorry I'm late," I say as we move together towards my station.
The garage is as always, busy with moving light bikes, semis, and other transport vehicles. The sound of engines running, tools clanging against metals, and Programs walking or conversing fill the space.
"You're always late these cycles, I'm used to it," he replies while we weave through stations and other mechanics, "Can't say the same for Mara or-"
"Beck!" A gruff voice booms out from his office.
"...Able," Zed finishes meekly. I give him a wry smile before heading off to Able's office.
Walking through the open door, heartfelt feelings and open arms greet me.
"You're late. Again," Able grounds out from behind his desk. His gaze pierces into me and I avert my eyes.
"Sorry Able, something came up," I make up.
He gives me a long penetrating stare for a few heartbeats before signing and letting his stiff posture relax. He reaches his hand under his desk and the doors behind me close.
"Beck, I'm worried about you," he starts solemnly.
"I'm fine."
"And one of these cycles you won't be!" He gathers himself for a moment, "What was it this time?" He asks as if it pains him.
"... I was trying to gather information off Tesler's ship," I answer honestly.
"About what?"
"Tesler's two Commanders."
"I thought so," Able confirms with a hand raised to his chin, "...and?"
"And I didn't find much. Their names were scrubbed from the record. They go by One and Two, part of the 'Rinzler' project."
"Rinzler?"
"I have no clue," I shake my head, "It was the only place I found that name mentioned. The only other information is they're originally from Carbonite City,"
"Not much."
"Only thing relevant is whatever this 'Rinzler' project is," I emphasize.
"Agreed… Beck, about being the Renegade…"
I narrow my eyes at him.
"Isn't it time you told Mara and Zed?" This catches me completely by surprise.
"You think I should tell them?"
Able nods.
"I don't want them involved! This is too dangerous!"
"Too dangerous? What about when they nearly destroyed Argon by siphoning power from the Grid directly?!" Able barks and I wince because he's right.
"It was handled."
"Barely. From what Tron tells me, you nearly botched the whole operation."
"And yet here we all are," I open my arms and gesture to the room.
"So you're willing to risk the city for what? Your ego? You don't sound any better than Tron!" Able guffaws and stands up.
"No! I'm not willing to risk them for what is my choice!" I stand up as well and lean over the desk with fury in my eyes.
"Except it's not your choice. It's Tron's!"
There's a brief pause in the shouting. We give our best scowls before I see Able's crack followed by a dejected sigh.
"It may be out of our hands…" the old Program mutters so low I almost miss his words, "What if they decide to become their own renegades?"
My energy runs cold and I feel it rush from my face.
"What are you saying?" I ask with dread.
"You need to talk to Mara."
"Is she tagging again? I hardly call that-"
"She sabotaged a tank patrol in Argon Square," Able states flatly.
I feel I've been body-slammed in the gut. My mouth opens to speak but after the third time, I keep it shut and lower back into my seat. Mara as a renegade? Not happening. Those Commanders would tear her apart!
"At least I think it's Mara," Able puts in after watching my reaction.
"Tell me what happened."
He nods and turns the screen on his desk towards me. A still image of Argon Square is on his screen, with a click the frozen Programs begin to walk. It's not long before the three Light Tanks and their squad of Black Guard escorts come in from the northern entrance.
Programs quickly shuffle away from the Occupation as they make a slow loop around the square questioning and bullying those brave enough to stay.
As the patrol continues south past the west entrance, a masked Program covered with minimal circuits and a long flowing cloak runs behind the tanks. The Black Guards are too far ahead or busy antagonizing civilians to see her.
It takes her less than a micro to attach something to all the tanks. No one's noticed her, and it's hard to track her while she's practically blacked out.
She slips back out of the square and the perspective changes. The square is in the distance but what seems to be security footage shows the cloaked figure climb up the walls of the square. She stops before she reaches the top. It's hard to tell what's going on, it's dark, the cloak obscures her movements, and the quality isn't the greatest, but the next moment there's an explosion heard and smoke begins to rise up from within the square.
The perspective changes back to the camera at Argon Square. The middle tank is sparking with its circuits cutting in and out. The other two tanks fan out as the Black Guards begin throwing stunners at anyone in range. Everyone else is rushing to an exit.
Two of the Black Guards escort the tanks as the other two arrest any stunned Program and bring them to the statue in the center.
The tank closest to the statue sparks and begins to fail, a mirror of his comrade. Before anyone has time to react, the last tank explodes causing the camera to white out at the sudden intense exposure.
When the screen clears, the glass of the camera has a spiderweb crack where the tank used to be. The other two tanks, closest to the explosion, are derezzed on that side with fire and exposed code. Thankfully, the Programs at the statue are unharmed, but the same can't be said for the Black Guards next to the tanks. Their voxels lie scattered all over the ground.
One of the Black Guards falls forward, his helmet smashing against the corner of one of the steps of the statue. The other has no time to react before a baton swings up and snaps his head backward. His body slowly timbers and crashes into the floor, splashing into voxels.
The video stops and Able catches my eye.
"Well?" Able asks.
"You think Mara did that?" I ask in shock.
"Ever since she was infected with Keller's virus-"
"We don't know what it was! And yes I know she's different, but this isn't her… she's not that smart."
"She's incredibly thoughtful, Beck."
"But not like this. This is more an act of terrorism than rebellion."
"And what are you? I doubt the Occupation would see a difference." Able asks.
"I don't derezz Programs," I defend with a steely tone.
"You think your bomb at the drill sight didn't kill anyone?" the old Program points out.
I can't hold back my flinch and avert my gaze down to the side.
"... I try not to think about it," I say earnestly.
There's a pregnant pause between us.
"It's not that you have to think about it, but accept it as an inevitability," Able's words are soft, with a mixture of understanding and deep-rooted pain.
"Then why all the pushing? I've chosen to be the Renegade, but you act like you can't accept that,"
"I accept you as the Renegade, I just want you to accept the power and responsibility that title holds,"
I look up at him and see the tightness around his eyes and lips.
"Actions have consequences."
"So does inaction!"
Tron's words rang true. Everything had consequences.
"This is more than just you Beck. Taking on all the issues yourself won't work, you won't succeed without help," Able's voice sounds rehearsed.
"I'm not the first one to hear that am I?" I smirk wryly. He answers in kind.
"No. I've had a lot of mechanics under my wing. Been around since the old Grid, seen the good cycles… and the bad. Programs are the same."
"Even me?" I joke.
"Yes," Able lets out a small laugh, "You're not too different from Tron. Too stubborn for your own good, afraid to let others in to help, fiercely protective of what you hold dear. Yes. You two are very similar." He rambles.
"That's why you need to start thinking of Mara and Zed as future comrades," he concludes.
I cross my arms, "You really want them to join me?"
"We both know they'll join the cause eventually. Why keep them out of this longer? The earlier they train the more likely they are to survive,"
And with those words, I feel all my worst fears break the surface of the cage I locked them in. Slowly, with icy tendrils that fill my veins, I remember what's been building ever since I blew up Clu's statue.
What I started, will end in war.