Chapter Summary-It's amazing what an exchange of code can do...let you do new things you could not have done before, show you new information. It can give you a new perspective.
A/N-I can only apologize for this update taking so long. Life interferreth. My thanks to everyone who waited so patiently. I can't say when the next update will be as (sadly) my computer died while trying to finish this update. Extra thanks to this chapter's betas; Luna Tsin and Hack Generation.
Song list for chapter: songs are matched by symbols to chapter sections
a)-Shelter by Birdy
b)-Fragile Tension by Depeche Mode
c)-Better, Faster, Stronger, Harder by Daft Punk
d)-Drive It Like You Stole It by Glitch Mob
e)-For Your Entertainment by Adam Lambert
Sail by Awolnation
a)-
"Okay, I get it… Do what you want me to do," Feral said, from where she stayed, panting, on her hands and knees. She lifted a face that now had a swollen lip and a smear of red leaking from the corner of her mouth. "I remember now."
In front of her, CLU looked down on the User that was now straightening up to stare at him. Behind him, CLU could hear a muffled 'no' from the protesting bit that Rinzler was currently holding. The bit had made an attempt to fly at CLU shortly after the trio had arrived at CLU's quarters, only to be snatched and restrained by Rinzler. While the bit was only a small annoyance at times like this; CLU sometimes wondered if he should continue to allow Feral the indulgence of keeping the bit.
"And what is it that I want you to do?" he asked Feral.
"Well…." She stopped, the tip of her tongue sliding out to lick away the blood from the corner of her mouth before continuing, "From what we're doing here…I have to say you must want me to keep running as often as I can. Maybe I'll get lucky and make it the next time."
Another backhand to the face knocked her back to sprawl on the floor again.
"Some microcycles I wonder why I even bother," CLU said wearily. "You aren't going to get away, Feral. I would have expected you to have learned that by now. Even if you did manage to get away, Rinzler would track you down and bring you back. There is nowhere for you to run to."
I am getting very tired of this," CLU told her. "I thought you would be more useful to the system by now." CLU turned to Rinzler.
"Is she ready for the Games?" he asked the security program.
Rinzler shook his head. No, Feral was not ready, not yet. Not if she was to have a chance of surviving the final round.
CLU looked back to where Feral was pulling herself up, getting ready to climb to her feet again at the end of her tether. "She has to the end of this cycle to be ready," he told his enforcer. "One way or another—ready or not—she will be taking place in the Games."
The sysadmin turned and began walking towards the door, calling back to Rinzler over his shoulder as he did so.
"Her tether is timed to release her in a nanocycle or two. I suggest that she spends the time training. Report to me at the beginning of the next millicycle for an updated patrol schedule."
When the door closed behind the administrator program Rinzler offered Feral his hand, releasing Spike as he did so to help her to pull herself to stand on her feet next to him. The bit quickly flew close enough to nuzzle Feral under her chin; then began to fly in small circles around her, flashing 'yes' as he appeared to examine her. "It's okay, Spike," Feral told the bit, quietly. She looked up at Rinzler and said, "Thanks for looking out for him. If Spike ever actually attacks CLU…we both have a good idea of what would happen."
Rinzler passed over a vial of energy for Feral to drink. It was a routine they had developed after several repetitions of this same scenario.
'You antagonized him on purpose,' the security program signed. It wasn't a question.
Feral slid a glance over to her friend as she tilted the vial to her mouth.
A moment later she saw Rinzler's hand move again.
'Why?' he asked. 'You knew what he would do…why did you push him like that?'
Feral tucked the now empty vial under her arm and began signing her reply to Rinzler.
'The more CLU thinks he knows, the less he is likely to look for,' she answered, her hands moving rapidly. 'Besides, you know how I feel about him. Anything that keeps him from getting what he wants from me is something I'm likely to do—or at least try to do.'
Feral moved to set the vial down on CLU's desk as the tether timed out and derezzed, releasing her. She set down the vial and turned back to look at the program still watching her. While he hadn't moved, she knew Rinzler well enough to know that something was bothering him.
'Why do you keep fighting him?' Rinzler signed the question to Feral. 'Why don't you stop defying him? It would be easier on you...'
Feral shook her head and signed back, 'Would you fight him, if you could?'
'This isn't right,' he signed to her, and she could feel the frown behind the words. 'You shouldn't be the one having to fight. There should be someone here who can fight FOR you.'
'You're teaching me to fight for myself,' she signed. 'That will just have to be enough.'
The low rumble of Rinzler's growl increased, the sound filling the corners of the small room. 'It's still not right…'
Feral's eyes softened at that, the look on her face both sad and understanding as she wrapped her arms around his waist, then pulled herself closer until she was pressed against his length, her face tucked against his chest. Spike circled them as they stood there, looking like a lost firefly.
"Oh, Rinzler," she sighed, the words ghosting across circuits and sensors. "What in this system IS right?"
He couldn't think of an answer to her question. Could no longer tell if there was anything remaining in the system that was 'right'. Deep within his code, however, Rinzler quietly made some additions to the copy of his combat coding that was waiting to be transferred to Feral as an upgrade.
He may not be able to tell her what was 'right', may not be able to fight for Feral himself…but he would give her every advantage that he could.
b)-
"What is this meant to do, again?" The question was a low, almost gruff rumble of sound.
Feral chewed her lower lip nervously as she squinted at the code that swirled above the disc she held in her left hand. She reached out her right hand and poked a finger at a glowing segment of it, sending it twirling to the side before it expanded in her view, revealing the more complex codes found in the heart of the function she was studying.
"It's called an immune system," she said, almost absently. "Think of it as a User-version of anti-viral programming. It basically hunts down and—if possible—isolates and destroys foreign matter, bacteria, and viruses."
"I already hunt down, isolate and destroy viruses if it's possible," the tall program told her.
"Yes, you hunt down and deal with viruses before they infect programs," she said, turning and high-lighting another portion of code and creating a copy of it. "But if you are infected with a virus, what happens?"
"I will become a viral and attempt to infect more programs, to spread the virus through more of the system. I will continue to spread the virus until I derezz. Why?"
Feral looked up from the motes of light that made up her code to see Rinzler's helmet facing her. Even without being able to see his eyes she knew he was staring intently at her.
"See, I can't even think of that without feeling freaked out," she told him, suppressing a shudder. "If this works out, however, you won't have to worry so much about it."
"You still haven't really explained what it is you are trying to do…" Rinzler pointed out from where he crouched near her, the blank face of his helmet aimed at the figure that was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the quarters that they shared. "What exactly is it that I will not have to worry about?"
"Remember how I reacted to being infected by the virus in the Sea?" she asked him.
Rinzler froze, his body held tautly in place with a sense of tension.
'I remember,' he signed to her.
Feral fought the urge to wince at a feeling of her own stupidity.
Of course he remembered, she thought. It had been saved onto his disc in Technicolor glory, just waiting to be recalled. While she had battled the virus internally, Rinzler had been forced to watch—unable to do anything to help her—while the virus had ravaged its way through her coding, attempting at one point to trick Rinzler into setting it free. He was a security program, tasked with keeping the inhabitants of the Grid system safe, and had been helpless to stop it from transforming her into a viral. Had she escaped, she would have spread the virus to the nearest program—Rinzler—and continued to spread it until she either derezzed or fought off the infection.
"Well, obviously I became infected—we both know that—but I didn't derezz. And I'm not a viral out spreading the virus through the system…right?"
"What's your point, Feral?" Rinzler's voice was impatient, but held a trace of curiosity in it.
"A User's immune system attacks viruses the way your anti-viral protocols do…except instead of using a disc and attacking the carrier to destroy virals, it attacks the virus from within your code. Just because you become infected doesn't mean you will stay a viral. You can destroy it within your own code…and you cannot be infected by it again. I can go into the Sea with my disc on as many times as I like now and not be infected by the virus. I have developed 'anti-bodies' to the virus."
If I can transfer a copy of the coding for my immune system onto your disc, you will have the same anti-bodies…and the ability to create more or even different anti-bodies and fight off infections on your own from within. You will be able to go into the Sea without becoming infected. More importantly, you will be able to develop anti-bodies to battle viruses that you come in contact with in the future so you can risk limited contact and have a chance of not derezzing."
Feral highlighted a different area of code, her head tilting to the side as she examined it. "Spike still in sleep_mode?" she asked.
Rinzler turned to look at the bit they had settled on the bed that he and Feral shared. The bit lay motionless, going through a recharge after reassuring itself that both Feral and Rinzler were both functional after the incident in CLU's quarters.
"He's recharging," Rinzler told her. "I would not expect him to be active for the next 0.34 millicycle."
"We should be done by then…" Feral said, concentrating on the highlighted code before moving past it. She slid another glowing fragment of coding to merge with the copy she was building. A hard, narrow-eyed look was aimed at the copy as Feral searched it to make certain that everything was in order. She held out a hand towards Rinzler.
"Okay, that should do it. If you want the upgrade, then I need to copy this onto your disc. It should be easy enough to add on as an overlay—over-write…whatever they're called—and then you can sync it up."
Rinzler reached over his shoulder and freed his disc from its dock. There was a pause, as if he was hesitating, and then Rinzler handed over the disc.
Feral took it with the attitude of someone who had just been given a holy relic. She held Rinzler's disc in one hand and sat her own disc to balance on her folded knee before her. A tap of a finger highlighted the copied code, and a swiping motion caused it to follow her finger until the code hovered over Rinzler's disc.
"You're sure you want to do this?" she asked him, one last time.
'Do it,' Rinzler signed to her.
A nod of understanding, a tap of her finger against his disc, and Rinzler watched as the glowing motes that made up the copy of that portion of Feral's code streamed down into his disc and began to install. Feral's eyes tracked the code until the last glowing spark had merged with the disc, and then gave it back to Rinzler.
He held the disc in his hands, considering the ramifications of what lay on it. No other program on the grid held User code…not even CLU. The system administrator was a digital copy of Kevin Flynn, holding all of Flynn's thoughts and memories until the moment that Flynn coded CLU; however, he didn't have any of Flynn's code. There was no way to know if the User coding would even be accepted by his programming and not merely labeled as junk code to be deleted the next time he defragged. Rinzler might have sat there even longer if his thoughts were not interrupted—
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said. "I was just thinking… This," Rinzler indicated the disc he held, "is amazing. It must be incredible to never have to worry about losing someone to a virus. All Users have to do is quarantine the infected until someone resolves the viral coding. Then they can upload these 'anti-bodies' to the infected and cure them."
Feral looked surprised at what he said.
"It's not quite that simple," she told him. "People still get sick and die from viruses all the time…sometimes from ones that you would think would be easy to fight off. And sometimes, something goes wrong and the anti-bodies attack the person's body instead of the virus…" She stared at him for a moment, a worried look growing on her face.
"You know what," she said, suddenly, "I'm starting to think this is just a bad idea. Pass me your disc and I'll delete the new code…it's probably safest." Feral held out her hand, waiting for Rinzler to give her his disc.
The blank face of Rinzler's helmet turned up towards her face.
"No."
"Rinzler, you have no idea how badly this could go. I may have screwed this up…instead of giving you an immune system to protect you, it could attack you. Just give me the disc and let me put things back the way they were."
Rinzler's helmet continued to face Feral until—with a decisive movement—Rinzler swiftly reached back with his disc and re-docked it.
"Rinzler!" Feral shrieked, falling over almost on top of the security program as she tried and failed to stop him from docking his disc, her crossed legs tangling and pulling her down when she lunged to catch his hand.
There was a quick flicker of circuits as Rinzler's disc synced with his system, the new code installing itself throughout his programming. A moment later, a shock ran painfully through him, reminding Rinzler of the sensation caused by an energy discharge…the kind that was used to cause programs to fall into standby or have a system crash. There was an odd, stuttering sound and distantly he understood that he was its origin. As if from far away, he could hear his name being called.
"Rinzler!" Feral shrieked, lunging for her friend's hand. Her legs refused to unfold quickly enough; causing her to lose her balance and crash into Rinzler, knocking him onto his back on the floor. She landed on the floor next to him, one of her arms thrown across his chest.
Feral sat up quickly, trying to push and pull Rinzler onto his side so that she could reach his disc dock.
"Why did you DO that!?" she asked him, panicked by the feeling of his limp and unresisting form. "Rinzler! Oh god, can you even hear me?" His circuits flickered brighter for a fraction of a nanocycle, signaling a sync with update installs in progress.
The steady, grinding sound of his that sometimes seemed to be trapped half-way between a growl and a purr was glitching; coming out in stuttering bursts of sound.
This wasn't Rinzler. Rinzler wasn't an uncertain stutter of noise; wasn't limp and yielding. He always seemed to be sure of what he was doing, even when it was following orders that he hated or disagreed with. He walked with his head up and shoulders back; a sense of trapped power that could be released at any time. Watching Rinzler reminded her of watching a large predator in the circus; something that may have been conquered but wasn't truly defeated.
Feral managed to pull Rinzler's shoulder up enough that she could just reach his disc. Her hand went to the release and froze.
What if interrupting the sync made things worse? She had never heard of a sync being interrupted before; what if it damaged or wiped some of his programming? She wasn't a programmer…she didn't know anything about programming. Some days she wasn't sure how she managed to pass her required college class on computers.
And how would Rinzler react to having his disc touched without his permission? He was already touchy about having to allow CLU access to it; wasn't that why she had been so surprised when he offered to give her access to his coding?
Hot, frustrated tears started to burn at the edges of her eyes as she realized that she wouldn't touch his disc; that there was nothing she could do.
There was a gasping sound from the helmet in front of her and a feeling of tension came to the shoulder she was still holding.
"What are you doing?" asked a rasping voice.
Feral let out a noise that was half choked laugh, half sob.
"You jerk," she said, shoving his shoulder back. "Do you have any idea how much you scared me just now?"
I said you shouldn't do that; that it could go wrong…" Feral stopped to take a deep breath.
"That sounds very familiar," came from the figure on the floor. "Didn't I say something like that recently?"
She slapped at his shoulder again. "Jerk. I thought I might have killed you. Why did you do that?"
Feral aimed another half-hearted blow at Rinzler's chest, only to have him catch her hand before it landed.
'Enough,' he signed to her. 'Stop hitting me.' He sat up and shook himself slightly.
'All of my scans are showing stable coding. I don't know if there is a way to definitively test the 'immune system' coding without exposure to a virus; however, it is not causing any glitches,' he informed her, only slowing to spell out 'immune system'.
Rinzler reached behind himself and undocked his disc. He offered it to her, his head canting to the side as he said, "Your turn…"
"Right," Feral said, blinking at the disc held out to her. "My turn."
Feral reached back and undocked her own disc. She looked back and forth between the disc in her hand and the combined discs that Rinzler was holding out to her. Making up her mind as to what she wanted to do; she took a firm hold on his disc while simultaneously thrusting her disc at him.
"Here…" she told him, "…hold this for me…." She then turned her attention back to this disc in her hand and opened the disc's coding access. Rinzler's code unfurled before her like a plant opening to light. One area in particular caught her eye with its intense glow and densely packed coding.
"Is this…?" She questioned, pointing at the small polygon of coding in front of her.
"The coding I copied for you?" Rinzler asked. "Yes…upgrade your disc whenever you're ready."
"Right."
Feral rolled her shoulders to try to release some of the nervous tension she felt. Reaching out to Rinzler's disc, she gently tapped the code and moved her finger away. There was a relieved breath as the copy of the coding separated and pulled away from Rinzler's disc, following her finger until she tapped it onto her disc's access; leaving the two of them to watch as the bits of coding flowed down to the disc to prepare for installation. All it would take now was for Feral to sync with her disc and the upgraded codes would install and apply themselves; becoming part of who she was.
Feral handed Rinzler's disc back to him.
"Ready?" she asked as he docked his discs, preparing to dock her own. A quick nod of agreement from her friend and she reached back with her disc, saying as she did so, "Here goes nothing…"
There was a soft, almost inaudible 'click' as Feral's disc connected with her dock. A muffled hiss came from her as her eyes flashed the same red-orange as her circuits when the sync began.
A moment later…
"I don't think it worked…" Feral said, starting to stand up. "I don't feel any diff—"
Her breath caught in a gasp as she stumbled. "Ow," she said, a hand lifting from her side, "that—"
Whatever it was she had wanted to say went unknown as she pitched forward with a choked cry, trying and failing to stop her fall.
"Feral!"
Now Rinzler was the one who didn't know what to do as on the floor in front of him Feral began to gasp for air. Her eyes were staring past Rinzler's shoulder—unfocused—as her entire body began to shake uncontrollably; fine tremors causing her hands to beat against the glossy black floor of their quarters even as her heels scuffed fruitlessly in an effort to push away and escape an unseen attacker.
Rinzler gathered her up, pulling her into his lap in an attempt to keep her from injuring herself by beating her head against the floor. He could feel the tension in her; could see the cords of her neck and throat standing out in high relief. Even holding her, something that usually to help Feral to calm down and reorient herself in relation to her surroundings, Rinzler could feel the body in his arms shuddering almost continuously.
"No, you don't," he snarled at her; his voice half angry, half panicked. It was too familiar; too much like what he had recently seen when she infected herself with the virus. "Not again…" The thought that his code—or worse, the additions he had made to the coding she had used for an upgrade—had done this was terrifying. "You will return to active status…"
It was several long nanocycles before the gasping breaths grew further apart until Feral's breathing smoothed and returned to normal, the tremors lessening in strength until she was finally relaxed in his arms.
"Rinzler?" The word was muffled from being spoken into the chestplate of Rinzler's armor.
"Yes?" he asked, relief flooding him at the sound of her voice.
"Why is my face smooshed up into your armpit?"
Rinzler lifted his face, the blank visor of his helmet hiding the look of stark relief that he wore on his face as he soundlessly mouthed, thank you, thank you, thank you… behind it. Who he was thanking was unclear, even to him; but it seemed appropriate to the moment.
"Seriously, why?" came from the figure that he was still hugging tightly to himself.
He let out a shaky half laugh and said, "It's revenge for scaring me again."
"Yeah, well, you don't smell like the guys from junior high gym class…so it's not working," she told him, trying to push herself up and out of his lap. "C'mon, let me up."
Reluctantly, Rinzler loosened his hold on Feral; releasing her to stand nearby. He rose to stand as well; watching silently as she rubbed the sides and back of her neck in an effort to relax muscles that had recently been drawn tight.
Feral glanced over at the tall figure watching her silently, stretching as she did so.
"What?"
Rinzler was silent for a moment longer before speaking.
"Do you know how hard it is on a security program—how hard it is on me—when you risk yourself like that…?"
"It wasn't that bad this time," she protested. "I never crashed or ceased functioning…it was just some sort of glitch. It only lasted 0.01872 millicycles—" Feral froze, mid-stretch, when she realized what she had just said.
"Rinzler," Feral said, slowly, "Why do I know exactly how long I was glitching…and why did I just list a time interval in that manner?" She turned to face him, looking straight at where she thought his eyes were behind the black visor of his helmet.
"What. Did. You. Do?"
'I did what I thought was best,' he signed. 'I made some additions to the copied coding that was used as your upgrade.'
"That doesn't explain this time…thingy!" she snapped out, waving a hand emphatically as she did. "Or why I KNOW exactly where in the Grid we are located, how long I can function without intaking more energy, or how I know that there are two search engines, eleven security programs, and five minor administration programs on this level of the complex right now." Feral began pacing in agitation as she spoke.
'You have alw—'
"Don't sign!" she said, her voice sharp as she continued pacing back and forth in the room; passing in front of the large window that spanned on wall from the floor to the ceiling. "I'm too mad to focus enough for you to sign. Just tell me what you did."
"You have always had a connection to the Grid system," Rinzler told her, levelly. "Now, it is simply easier to access in an organized fashion, similar to a security program of my access privilege level. The 'time thingy'—what is a 'thingy', exactly? I'm not familiar with the term…"
"Rinzler!" came an exasperated shriek.
"You are currently accessing the system clock," he said. "Also, program location and tag reads; this will allow you to assess threat levels and status of other programs. With each portion of new code that you access, more code will be made available to be accessed. Each level expands from code that must be processed at least once for the next portion of code to have a platform to build off."
Feral stopped pacing and stared at him for a long moment before saying, "You're telling me that I have as much access to the Grid system as you do…if I try to have access?"
A grave nod of the helmeted head answered her.
"All I have to do is try to access it in regards to smaller, lower-priority functions to be allowed access to higher functions; and every time I do this it increases what I can do?"
Again, the same slow, grave nod.
"Can we go to the practice arena now? I want to whomp on you for a bit for not telling me you were going to add on to the code; and it sounds like I might actually be able to do that, now." There was a grin on Feral's face as she made that pronouncement.
c)-
"Ouch!" The word was a muffled protest.
"This was not how I anticipated things going," Feral complained, her face pressed against the training arena wall. A moment later, Rinzler released his hold, allowing her to move freely again. She pushed herself away from the wall, saying, "I feel like something's wrong with me. I'm not where I'm supposed to be… It's like I'm going too far—over-extending myself—no matter what I do."
"I told you that you would be able to access more of the coding as you used it; that doesn't mean that your User render is ready to handle all of your newly coded abilities…from the way you are moving, it's still trying to process the newly installed physical upgrades," he told her as he stepped back. "You aren't used to being this strong or fast, or having the reflexes necessary to compensate.
"Physical—Rinzler, are you telling me that you put upgrades on my physical body?" Feral's voice grew a bit shrill at the end of the question.
Rinzler tilted his head in her direction. "Of course," he told her. "How else would you be able to utilize the combat coding most efficiently? I only increased the levels as much as I thought was safe…you're fine." His voice was dismissive as he told her of raising the levels.
"Warn a person, next time!" she shrieked at him. "You don't get to change me without telling—no, asking—me about it first. That's just wrong…" Feral glared at him and huffed in irritation. She crossed her arms and snapped, "If you thought for one minute that is going to make me go slower until I finish processing the upgrades, then you were wrong. I'm gonna learn how to use these; and then I'm going to tear you a new input…."
Rinzler drew back for a moment, startled by the heat in her words. Half a picocycle later, he noticed that despite her words, Feral's lips held just the smallest upturn at the corners of her mouth and there was a gleam in her eyes.
Behind the black visor of his helmet, his lips quirked up as well. "I look forward to seeing you try…" he told her.
d)-
Two mylacycles later….
"Where are we going?"
"Do you remember when I told you that when you had improved enough in hand-to-hand combat I would show you what that large open area in the games arena was for?" Rinzler asked, leading Feral closer to the entrance of the arena's gaming areas while Spike followed them.
"Yes." Feral stopped short and grabbed Rinzler's arm. "You mean…now? You're going to show me now?" A smile began to spread across her face as she said, "I'm good enough now that you will show me?"
"You have improved enough that I believe you won't derezz yourself IF you follow my instructions and go slowly while you are learning," he replied, beginning to walk again.
Feral stopped short and stared at him.
A step ahead of her, Rinzler stopped again and looked back. "That means…yes, I will show you now," he said, beckoning for her to follow him. "If you don't keep up, we will never get past the armory this millicycle." He turned and walked on, leaving her to catch up and walk with him.
"Armory?" she called, "Rinzler! Why are we going to the armory?" She sprinted to catch up when there was no answer forthcoming.
Once inside the armory, Rinzler led her to a wall-mounted rack that held several batons. The batons looked exactly like the ones that Rinzler always wore clipped to his thighs whenever he was not in sleep mode.
She watched as Rinzler examined a few of the batons, finally choosing two of them. He tossed one of the batons to Feral, nodding approvingly when she snatched it out of the air before it could either hit her in the face or fall to the floor of the brightly-lit armory.
'Good,' he signed. 'Clip that one to your leg; it will serve as your spare. Always have two batons…you never know when you will need the second one. Having it at hand at all times could save you, one day.'
The faint glow from the armory's cabinets and racks highlighted the small frown on Feral's face as she turned the baton around in her hands, searching for something on it that would give her more information on its purpose.
"Alright," she muttered, "Carry two. Gotcha. But Rinzler, what exactly are these?"
"Lightcycles."
Feral's head came up quickly and her eyes grew wider as she repeated, "Lightcycles? These things turn into lightcycles?!"
"Please, please show me how you turn this baton into a lightcycle…please!" she begged, her voice excited. "I've been wondering if I would ever get to ride one."
Rinzler's helmet tilted a fraction as he regarded the User who was close to jumping up and down in excitement; bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet where she stood. 'When we get to the lightcycle grid,' he signed. 'I will show you there.'
A nanocycle later, Feral was looking at the open expanse of the lightcycle grid; its curving ramps and levels a beckoning tease and lure that called to her.
Next to her, Rinzler was holding out his baton and showing her how to rezz up a lightcycle from it. "Take your time; it's your first time to ride a lightcycle, so go slowly and follow my lead," he told her. "Don't try to take any of the ramps—especially not the circular ones—or change levels until I decide you are ready."
Feral was watching carefully as he rezzed up his lightcycle, mimicking his movements to rezz up her own lightcycle. She nodded in agreement, serious as he showed her the controls for the lightcycle.
"….acceleration is controlled in this way, this will activate for sudden stops, this is the stabilizer control—you shouldn't need to change its setting at this time—and this controls your lightribbon, do not turn on the lightribbon…" Rinzler was saying, pointing out various controls.
She carefully kept her face blank until he stepped back and told her, "Rezz up your helmet and try to get accustomed to controlling it…just remember to take your time and go slowly. Don't try anything tricky. I'll be close to you in case you get nervous or have a question. Ready?"
Behind the visor of her helmet—blank and black, like Rinzler's, but with rounded curves instead of his sharp planes—Feral grinned. Oh, she was more than ready. Feral had wanted to ride a lightcycle since the first time she had seen one. They reminded her of the motorcycle that she had left behind when she entered the Grid system and even now her fingers itched to wrap around the controls and see just what she could make a lightcycle do.
When Feral had been eleven years old, her best friend, Joey, had been the boy next door—a boy who generously ignored the fact that she was a girl—and he had showed her how to ride his dirt bike. A week later, she was the proud owner of a cast signed by all of Joey's friends—courtesy of her insistence that she could race on the BMX track as well as he could.
She had broken her arm trying to prove that fact (she couldn't, but wasn't about to admit it); however, she had gained the admiration of both Joey and his friends by not only trying to do so…but coming back out to the track the next week with her arm in a cast and asking him to teach her. Joey had taught her everything he knew and within six months she had a dirt bike of her own and was training for the local BMX races. A year later, she was winning a few of them.
The thrill of going fast and playing hard while riding something that only had two wheels had never faded for her. In high school, she had saved up and taken her first motorcycle racing course. Over the next few years she took every race course that she could find—all of the race classes that Ducati offered, BMX racing classes, anything and everything. When she couldn't take a race class, she was renting time on tracks in the area—even if she had to rent a motorcycle to do so.
Feral slowly started off on the lightcycle, keeping her speed fairly low as she tested out the turning radius and how quickly she could brake. The entire time Rinzler was pacing her on his lightcycle, encouraging her over his comm link.
"Do you want to try it alone?" he was asking. "You're doing fine. Just keep going slow until you feel—"
Rinzler's voice broke off as Feral suddenly shot ahead; her speed reaching the levels more commonly found in the civilian lightcycle races.
He growled and followed, planning to catch up to her and maneuver Feral into slowing down to a safer speed. Instead, he found himself having to chase her around the arena as Feral managed to steer her lightcyle to avoid him; changing levels as she did so.
Feral couldn't hold in a whoop of excitement as she accelerated, pulling away from where Rinzler was trying to carefully monitor her. The feel of the lightcycle responding to her command was almost intoxicating; all she wanted was more. The urge to see exactly what she could do on a lightcycle was irresistible.
The lightcycle was as responsive—perhaps even more responsive than—any motorcycle that she had ever ridden before. The feeling of the dorsal code that attached to the back of her helmet from the lightcycle was a bothersome touch at the nape of her neck; distracting her. She dismissed the code with a half-conscious thought and tried out a few sharp turns; laughing out loud in enjoyment as she did so.
Rinzler had caught up to her and she could see him next to her. Feral could hear his irritated growl leaking through their comm link as he tried to control her movements by steering his lightcycle to intercept her. She grinned mischievously from behind her helmet's visor before suddenly changing her direction and taking a ramp to change levels.
It had been far too long since she had played 'tag' with someone on a 'cycle of any type; now seemed like a great time to indulge in some fun.
For the next 0.1683 millicycles Feral dodged and avoided Rinzler; changing speeds to either pass him or fall back out of his influence. She switched directions at the blink of an eye; it didn't take her long to get an understanding of the different levels and ramps, either. All of them were used as she led a Rinzler whose growl continued to grow around the arena.
To say that Rinzler had not expected this from Feral was an understatement.
He had been irritated when she first pulled away from him—not terribly surprised, but irritated. The surprise had been when she had managed to initially avoid him. Not many programs could avoid him and not for very long. Feral, however, seemed to be very good at it; or very lucky.
Rinzler's mood went from irritated at Feral's apparent ignoring of his directions, to annoyed when she avoided him, then worried that she would be injured, then angry at her disregard for what he had said and her own safety, to frustrated at his inability to force her to a stop without risking injuring her. Feral was avoiding him at times by making turns that were so sharp Rinzler could see her knee coming within centimeters of the arena floor. When he noticed that she didn't have the stabilizing dorsal code active on her lightcycle, Rinzler felt like he would throw an exception. Without the stabilizing factor of the code, a program could easily lose their balance and fall from their lightcycle. At the speeds that the lightcycles were currently reaching, a fall could lead to deresolution. After spending a portion of the millicycle being unable to stop her on a lightcycle without risking derezzing Feral or her lightcycle, Rinzler's mood chad changed to one of grudging admiration.
Finally, Rinzler saw Feral's lightcycle slow; then stop. The User dismounted from the lightcycle and after taking only a few steps, laid down on the arena floor. Uncertain as to whether or not she was injured, Rinzler turned his lightcycle and headed to join up to her.
Feral sat down and flopped onto her back, retracting her helmet as she did so. She was still laughing wildly as she spread her arms out to the side as though trying to embrace the entire system at one time.
One thought kept running through her mind—That had been amazing! The sense of speed, the same thrill that came from knowing that only your own skills were keeping you alive and uninjured, the way the lightcycle had responded to the smallest changes in her balance and the shifting of her weight, the challenge of unfamiliar territory while competing in some fashion with another skilled opponent…there was no other feeling quite like it. It was as though Rinzler had given her an unexpected gift.
A moment later, Rinzler was standing near her—booted feet near her side as he looked down where she lay, still laughing.
"That was incredible!" she shouted. "Thank you so much, Rinzler; I haven't had that much fun in…" Feral stopped for a moment before continuing, "…well, in long enough."
Rinzler looked around for a moment before lowering himself to sit beside the still chuckling User. "I wasn't happy with what you did," he told her, his growl low and gruff as he spoke. "You seem to have more skills than I expected," Rinzler said, a bit grudgingly.
Feral turned her head to look at him. "Yeah, it's amazing what you can learn out there," she replied, lazily. "I always liked—okay, more along the lines of loved—learning ways to push what I could do on a motorcycle. They're a lot like lightcycles; not as responsive at times, but comparable."
She suddenly rolled and lunged at Rinzler, causing him to fight down the urge to react by pulling his disc and negating the threat she posed. Feral wrapped her arms around Rinzler's chest, squeezing tightly before releasing him and saying—her head still tucked into the curve of his neck just below his helmet—"Thank you so much. I can't tell you what that meant to me…"
Rinzler held himself stiff for a moment, then relaxed and cautiously brought his arms up to return the hug. They had hugged before—often, actually—but it had always been to comfort each other. This…this was different and he wasn't quite certain how to process it or the unexpected, unnamable emotions that it created.
"You're welcome," he told her, instead. "Don't worry; we will be spending a lot of time out here."
A picocycle later, there was an aggrieved 'NO!' and a mild shock as a very angry Spike finally caught up with them.
The bit had not been happy when the two of them had taken off on their lightcycles; leaving him behind to try to keep up.
"OW! Spike! I'm sorry, I won't do it again… Ow!"
e)-
Rinzler made his way through the grey and black maze of corridors and hallways, the light of wall and floor circuits reflecting off of his helmet as he headed back in the direction of the quarters that he shared with Feral.
It had only been a short time since CLU had released him of the duty of accompanying him. Rinzler knew that the Leader had not really needed him for personal security for the meeting with the other programs—highly influential though they may have been in their respective cities—but more for the intimidation CLU commanded as the one who could give a command and have the system's best warrior dispatched to seek them out and derezz them. The sight of Rinzler standing behind the system administrator as Rinzler's low and irritated growl rolled through the room was not something easily ignored in one's memory files.
And so CLU would sit—a small, bland smile on his face—as objections and arguments to the processes and methods that CLU wanted used would dwindle and fade a little more with each flick of their eyes to the sullen red-orange glow of circuits on the lean-muscled form of the Enforcer.
Now, all Rinzler wanted was out—away from the programs whose eyes grew wider and more nervous or frightened the longer he was near them; no matter that he was still the Grid's security and had a need deep within his coding to see them all as safe as he could make them—he wanted to be away from every program that would not simply relax if he was around. Unfortunately, there were only two remaining on the Grid who reacted in such a fashion…and he didn't want to go back to CLU's side.
Feral was the only one he wanted to have near him at this moment. The way she simply accepted Rinzler for who he was, and did not judge him for the ways that the reprogramming had changed him, was somehow soothing and exactly what he was searching for right now.
At last he was stepping through the door of their quarters, his helmet coming up and turning slightly as behind the black visor his gaze swept across the room; searching for circuits whose color matched his own.
The room was empty.
A frustrated growl made its way around the room, filling and rebounding from the walls and corners.
She wasn't here.
Feral was limited in where she had access if Rinzler or CLU was not with her. She was getting better every millicycle at learning ways to hack into the system, and slowly learning the subtleties of manipulating it. Feral said it was more like asking the code and hoping that it agreed; although Rinzler was certain that if Feral really wanted to do so she could force a hack on the system…or a program. It slowed her down; however, if Rinzler was not with her. There was no way for Feral to shut down the alarms and system administration notifications if something went wrong. If Rinzler was with her, he had the ability to shut down the alarms or list it as a systems security check instead, forestalling any investigations into the alarms that might lead to the discovery by other programs of Feral's growing hacking skills.
A quick 'locate program' query let him know that she was in one of the small training arenas on the same floor as their quarters. He left the room and headed to the training arena. Feral was most likely practicing her new combat skills, trying to reach the point where her User body had performed the movements enough times to react quickly enough for her to function as a Games champion. Once again, Rinzler began to make his way down the halls and corridors that led to his new destination—the training arena rooms.
The door slid open with a near silent 'hiss'. Rinzler slipped in the doorway before it had even opened completely, only to come to a sudden and complete stop at the sight that met his eyes.
Feral was dancing again.
He didn't see her do it often, but it was no secret to him that she danced—often waiting until he was about to leave to perform some task that he had been ordered to do alone. The first few times that Rinzler had seen her dancing Feral had invited him to join her; only to nod her acceptance of Rinzler's refusal when he told her that he didn't dance. It hadn't stopped her from doing so herself. She would still dance—sometimes using the training arenas and activating the gravity controls or adding some other factor to force herself to react differently to reduced sensory input or a changing environment.
Rinzler had to admit that doing so was speeding up the process of Feral familiarizing herself with her upgraded coding. It had been startling the first time he saw her using one of his combat maneuvers while dancing and even more unexpected the first time she had used a dance maneuver while sparring with him. While he didn't think that Feral had noticed it, it had forced him to change tactics suddenly to keep her from gaining the upper hand in the match.
Now it seemed that she was reducing her sensory input again; making herself work harder and use her other senses more to keep her balance and track her position within the room. Feral had coded up what looked like a strip of fabric and tied it around her eyes as a blindfold. Even without the use of her sight she moved across the arena's floor confidently, displaying none of the reluctance to move or lack of balance that most programs would have shown at reduced input parameters.
Watching Feral dance was something that Rinzler didn't often do. It caused him to feel odd sensations in his coding—as though he was being offered something unusual that he didn't deserve, something unearned.
While it wasn't as though there was no dancing in the Grid—many programs danced; some very well and others very badly—but it was very different to watch Feral. When a program danced there was a planned precision to their moves, a factor determined by programming. Feral moved differently; her movements were more fluid and changing constantly in response to the environment, the music and her mood. It was almost hypnotic in some fashion. He often found himself watching her from the corner of his eye, glad that he could appear unconcerned behind the black visor that shielded him from prying eyes.
He stood there silently, watching as the small figure in the center of the room moved with the music. Spike was flying around her in wide, looping circles; seeming to move almost in counter-point with Feral as she danced. In the air around her Rinzler could hear a male voice singing.
Can you handle what I'm about to do
'Cause it's about to get rough for you
I'm here for your entertainment…
Not mine, Rinzler thought to himself, never for my entertainment. I don't deserve something like that—the regard of a User on such a level—not with what I've done. The program I once was might have stood a chance at earning that privilege…but not me. Not CLU's enforcer….
He continued to watch as the song ended and the music changed to a slower tempo.
Feral could tell when the door to the small training arena opened. Since the upgrade to her code she found that she was more aware of small changes to the code in the environment around her; her 'sense' of the Grid more acute now. So while she was aware that the door was beginning to open she was also determined to continue dancing.
She didn't know who was standing on the other side of the door, but the thought of a strange program watching her was irritating.
Let them watch, she thought to herself, there's no point to a program telling CLU that I look like I'm glitching because I'm dancing…I can take off the blindfold if they don't leave. Besides, the song is almost over and I don't want to stop before the song does….
When the program entered the room, however—and the upgrade was the only way that she knew they had done so; the program's feet were completely silent on the floor—there was none of the usual tingle of uneasiness or a need to watch for danger that she usually felt near other programs. Some programs had a threat level that was easy to identify, their tag reads were almost broadcast to everyone around them. Typically such programs were the ones Feral had marked as less threatening—search programs, document processers, most of the art programs, programs with limited-to-no combat skills or tactics.
This program did not list a tag read as they moved through the doorway. The only tag read that she could register wasn't even a tag read—it was Spike, moving around her as she danced. Programs that didn't list tag reads would normally claim more of Feral's attention as she decided how much—if any—of a danger they were to her. Instead of the urge to determine the program's threat level; however, she felt…safe.
Feral made a snap decision; the upgrade she had received from Rinzler was something she trusted as much as Feral trusted Rinzler himself. She had scanned the program when they entered the room; they registered within her as safe…she would trust that judgment.
She could only think of one person in the system that made her feel safe, after all.
From where he stood—against the wall and only a few steps away from the doorway—Rinzler could see as Feral's movements changed to match the music that was now playing; a soft thunderclap of sound that seemed to belong to the Grid somehow. Her hands curved and twisted through the air, seeming to pull the music both out of and into her at once.
Sail! a voice sang; the word seeming to hang in the air surrounding Feral.
Sail!
This is how I show my love
I made it in my mind because…
Rinzler looked on silently as Feral continued to dance; her body flowing from one movement to another, seeming to beckon and invite him as she danced.
In the middle of the room it was now impossible to tell if the User was moving to match the music…or if the music was matching the User as she danced. Feral was mesmerizing to see and Rinzler found that his attention was focused on the graceful form flowing sinuously with the song.
Something about watching her like this caused something to stir deep in his coding; the feeling of memories partitioned too far away for him to access them. He had felt something similar before, hadn't he? Not the same—but for someone important to him…someone that was very different from Feral, yet that he had cared for very much.
...sail with me into the dark… the song entreated.
He couldn't.
Feral deserved more than a program with corrupted coding.
He would never tell her how he felt.
Never tell her that he was falling in love with her.
Rinzler turned before the song ended and silently left the room, the door closing quickly behind him.
As the last of the song continued playing, Feral sensed the door opening and the program that had been in the room with her leaving. She stopped dancing and pulled off the blindfold, dragging it over her head until she stood blinking in the bright light of the otherwise empty room. Spike moved towards the closing door, only to change directions and return to hover by Feral's shoulder when it closed.
"Rinzler?" she said, feeling as though the security program should have been standing nearby.
A/N-While I am dealing with a zombie laptop, I am still writing. Hopefully the next update will not take as long, even with the complication of having to replace my computer.
Comments of any and all types are welcome...encouraged, actually.