Between Friends

By Simon Woodington

Previously: X and Zero on matters romantic, while Roll displays more aggressive and violent tendencies in Alia's aptly prepared presense...

Episode Six

Who now possesses what you seek? Who has the requisite expertise, Tron? Ask one who is intimate with another, but dismayed and horrified by her actions.

I don't know. Can't you tell me?

We did not download that information.

Dammit Roll, why not?

You rushed. It wasn't necessary to damage roll that severely!

It's not her business! Who does she think she is?

I will not impede your actions, Tron. I made a promise that I intend to keep, on the condition that you harm no one else, Alia said rather plainly, so she thought.

Uh... what are you saying?

Refrain from damaging or confronting anyone else, and I will do for you what you cannot. Do you understand?

Really? I mean... well, okay! Where do you we go?

There was a lab ten miles north of the equator on the South American continent, just east of the -

Cut it. Just uplink with the Hunter GTSN, okay? Alright? I'm a little bored, and really antsy. I wanna be done already.

Please be patient. This will take time, Tron. In the end you will have what you want.

I had better!

My word is my bond, Tron.

Aw... you make it sound so honorable! Must you do that? Just you remember where we come from!

I do...

Roll, I... I didn't really want to hurt Alia. I just... I can't help it! She's so close to X!

I understand.

Why don't you get angry?!

Nebulous silence.

Nevermind. I'm gonna look for that lab now...

-

Livesaver had, against his preference, allowed Alia company during her repairs and upgrades. It was Signas' order, rather than his fair bedside manner and sympathetic nature. Alia chuckled at his self indulgent inner dialogue, then quickly apologized.

You are broadcasting my private channel during this troublesome interval. I do not wish to appear ungracious.

You do not, he said stolidly, glancing at her face briefly as she lay open upon his table, core exposed to his expert hand. I do lament this, Alia, but I will not defy your wishes. It is who I am, and I will not accept insult by any measure.

Yes, thank you Lifesaver. I regret these events also, but what are we to do? We must act!

"Alia, please report," Signas requested, an air of concern and gentility about him. "Why has Roll stolen the Falcon armor, damaged my chief strategist and threatened the welfare of my unit?"

"I'm quite interested in Roll's creator," Yale added, acting as though he had no part despite his official capacity.

So am I, Alia agreed. It would not be wise to speculate yet, but the probability of a progenitor of the Bonne family having involvement in this insurrection is high.

"Bonnes? You mean Tron and Tiesel? The butterfingered thieves who bumbled repeatedly into Rock during the Digger Era?" Dr Ruth Silvane said, dismayed. "We are speaking of Roll's history, I suppose... of which Tron was more a part. I see your thread, Alia."

"Do you know what's controlling Roll?" Signas insisted, attempting to maintain the subject.

No, I cannot exactly define the nature of the code with further examination.

"She is rated as Class B, X is not in danger," Lifesaver hastily said. "I do not believe she will succeed."

"Succeed? In what?" Douglas murmured, pondering aloud. "Tron was in love with Rock, wasn't she? Wasn't it her way of denying her heart, making him the enemy?"

Beat, perched ten feet from the group, chirped agreement into the whirring hum of generators and cooling equipment. Then he chuckled.

Be that as it may, Alia continued with a tremble of discomfort in her signal. She seems to have no compunction using violence to achieve her goals. My anticipation of this attack was not effective enough to stop her. Take heed, like Zero her systems are enigmatic, so we cannot predict her next actions without a large margin of probable error.

"Yes, you're right," Douglas mused. "What will we see next? What will she demonstrate?"

"Only time will tell," answered a familiar voice.

X! Alia exclaimed passed Douglas at a small screen to her left. Are you..?

"Fine, Alia, so far. She has not attacked yet. What about you?"

I am preparing, Alia stated with the definition of purpose.

"For what? Roll..." the statement died. Would never? There lay the sum of her actions.

Yes, the battle led to my defeat, but I will not retire yet! I know what I fought was not her core, and I can only conjecture that it was a crude subroutine with limited access to her resources. The code's signature indicates a high-redundancy encrypted compression algorithm. Without the key index there is no way to decrypt and decompress the code.

"Meaning?" interrupted Zero, apparently nonplussed.

You're not that basic, Zero, Alia responded with a touch of chastisement. Whoever that code belongs to wants out. That is why I continued to function.

"So that isn't her primary goal: to destroy the Reploids."

I believe she is self-willed X, Alia replied worriedly. Her cognitive speed were limited compared to any Reploid, but that is typical when one is in survival mode.

Several nods confirmed her words like trees touched by a gentle breeze.

-

Sixty feet below the earth's surface was a literal warehouse of stockpiled Reploid parts, manufacturing and service equipment engineered with passion and attention to detail befitting an artist.

He was an artist as much as we were, and his craft was the result of the investature of his heart as much as his hands.

"Electronic Arts?"

Perhaps. I did not develop an interest until much later in my life.

"Until the accident you mean," she commented, pacing cautiously through a utility tunnel leading towards the underground manufacturing plant. "Wasn't it all the time you had left? Nothing to waste for intellect, right?"

We are what we do with our time. I do not expect you to understand that, you are so young. Rock... was gone, and Forte ... he was the only one who understood. Gospel was such a comfort.

"Gospel has a big heart," Tron agreed, half smiling in the darkness. They approached the tunnel's end, where a large shielded lift door stood aside a diagram of the plant's layout. Of six levels, three were dedicated to Reploid research, design, fabrication and testing, while two housed software coding facilities and their mainframes. The last was a bomb shelter style living environment, capable of providing four to six people for as long as stored supplies would last.

Level Two, Roll said, watching her arm lift with white fingers to touch the firm transparent plastic. This lift will take us there.

"I owe you, Roll. Not ever have you lied to me – and I am so sorry for all of this," Tron admitted suddenly. "I am glad we are friends."

The lift moved soundlessly, a mild hiss accompanying the sliding as Ronne entered and exited. Level two took the form of a narrow and short hallway with four sealed door labeled according to their functions.

We must enter Design first, to plan your body. Do you know what you want?

"It's all here... I need a temporary shell to decompress into," she said, expressing a rudimentary understanding of the process she was to undergo.

That drone will serve that purpose, but until the final transfer your active PIDs will remain linked to me.

"So what do we do?"

I will assume by your approach that you have embedded blueprints and startup routines. Knowing Tronne that is a reasonable assumption. Uploading these will begin the process in 'Manufacturing', the room to our far left. While that runs we will proceed to 'Development' to prepare your software shell and hardware core. In 'Testing and Final Production' we will complete your new form and upload your decompressed kernel.

There was a considerable gap of silence, into which the nearest Guts Man shell could be tossed, and within moments, Tron failed to notice.

Tron?

"Huh? You stopped? Oh okay. What do you we do first?"

Roll sighed, or tried to.

"Enter the room labeled 'Fabrication'."