A/N: So sorry for the wait, everyone! I had a bit of writer's block for awhile, but for some reason these past few days, I got a surge of new ideas for this story. This has resulted in a fairly long chapter to make up for my absence. I hope you enjoy it. A lot of interesting stuff is happening here.
As always, thank you so much to everyone who's been keeping up with this story. Let me know what you think!
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Pairing: CastorXQuorra
Prompt: Tron 50 Challenge
Title: Entertainments and Diversions
Chapter Six: Work
The room was dark, but not eerily so. Quorra felt quite at ease in this darkness, as indicated by the softly pulsing circuits on her light suit, now devoid of its armor. Rubrix had insisted at going it alone with the music mission, and she'd been too tired to argue. Plus, she thought it would be a good time to catch Nero and ask if he knew any security programs that wanted a new assignment. If he was in a good mood, maybe she could also try to get him to open up about the virus attack.
When she'd entered their apartment, though, she found it empty, and from the looks of things, Nero had been gone for a while. The message he'd left for them was, as expected, purposely vague, the dark-skinned program carrying a scowl on his face the whole time he gave it. He'd be out for the rest of the day and night on a new assignment, he'd contact them in the morning, don't let Rubrix do anything stupid, et cetera, et cetera.
Disheartened but determined to make the best of things, Quorra had resumed her favored spot on the couch, picking up Nineteen Eighty-Four again, but soon discovered that her concentration for the day was shot. She read sentences multiple times without understanding the words, often skipping around the page to places before zoning out completely. So she closed the book, carried it to her room, placed it on her nightstand, and left it there as she burrowed under her bedcovers. Rest, that was what she needed. Rest.
But while her body stayed perfectly still and relaxed, her mind did not. Her thoughts about Zuse, of all the things he told her, ran in circles over and over again. She hoped Rubrix would return soon to give her something new to think about.
Above all, she wished Flynn would call upon her again, for research or otherwise. She had much she wanted to ask him. This whole thing with Zuse, with Abraxas, with her and her fellow ISOs… She had a feeling it was bigger than all of them somehow. It would be nice to have the Creator's take on things.
It was with these thoughts that sleep took her, like the slow but all too instant moment when sunset quietly gives way to starlight without anyone noticing.
When Rubrix returned a few hours later, he entered Quorra's room, mouth open to begin his report…only to stop at her peaceful form. A warm smile lit up his face, and he shook his head at the sight of sheets tangled around her body and the bedcover bunched on the floor. He straightened them out, covering her more securely with them, pausing only to remove the long gloves she'd forgotten to remove before she went to sleep. Deeming she looked far more comfortable due to his efforts, he left the room, still smiling.
The day hadn't gone exactly as planned for him, but he would persevere. Besides, with Nero gone, that meant he had a free bed to sleep in tonight.
The next day was a flurry of movement. Surprisingly, Rubrix wasn't the cause like he was most mornings. (Well, not entirely.)
"Are you sure they said no?" Quorra asked for the third time in as many minutes.
Rubrix let out a puff of hair, amused, as he lounged against the couch, watching as Quorra darted in and out of her room, then back in again.
"Unless 'no' means something else in Basic-speak, then yeah, I'm pretty sure."
"I thought you said you could convince them," said Quorra, her voice coming distantly within the confines of her room. A clattering sound of something—a bunch of somethings—falling over reached his ears. "The club opens in just a few millicycles! Castor—"
"You let me worry about Castor," Rubrix said as he folded his hands behind his head. "I don't think he'll be too upset. Seems like a cool guy. Besides, there are others. I can always go back tonight."
Quorra appeared in the doorway of her room, her wide eyes the only thing that hinted at the worry she felt. "Just…be careful out there." A pause took ahold of the room, and it was clear she was debating what to say next. "I wish you would let me go with you."
"Maybe next time," acquiesced Rubrix gently. "After we've worked on blending you in better with everyone."
A furrow appeared in Quorra's brow. "I can… I mean, I don't want to, but I can cover up the mark if I need to, Rubrix."
Rubrix shook his head, rising to a sitting position. "That's not what I'm talking about. The mark's not really the problem, and I wouldn't let you or make you do that. I don't cover mine. It's just, uh, how do I put this?" He rubbed a hand through his hair, searching around the room for inspiration. "You just always seem to get this look of wonder whenever we're on the Grid. Like you can't really believe what you're seeing, and you're trying to take it all in at once. People notice."
A blush crept up Quorra's cheeks as she thought about what she must look like to other programs. Like a child. A child-program just learning its algorithms and functions. In a way, that was exactly what she was, what all the ISOs were, but it seemed like others had a better handle on themselves than she did. Even Rubrix did. But how could she not look at something as phenomenal as the Grid and not feel overwhelmed with awe? Even though she felt stirrings for the User's world, there were things about the Grid that amazed her, and apparently, she wasn't doing anything to hide that fact from anyone, either.
"You sure you're not confusing me with yourself," Quorra asked sulkily, remembering all the times he'd acted like an over-enthused puppy in public. And he was calling her out on her behavior?
"I know I can act a little childish," Rubrix said, "but I'm that way around you because I'm comfortable around you. Believe it or not, I can actually act like a very responsible guy around strangers."
"Well, now I definitely want to go with you to see that, because you're right." Quorra crossed her arms in front of her, trying not to show that she was pouting. "I don't believe you."
"Hey," Rubrix admonished playfully, seeing straight through her. "Don't be embarrassed. It's cute. Very endearing."
"You're not helping."
In an attempt to justify not looking at Rubrix, Quorra headed over to the kitchen to busy herself with…something. Half-heartedly, she grabbed a dishtowel off the counter and began scrubbing even though the entire area was perfectly clean.
"Did you ever get in touch with Nero?"
Quorra paused, bringing her eyes to Rubrix's concerned one. "No, did you?"
With a shake of his head, Rubrix intoned, "I've left him a few messages about what's happening with us over the next few days, minus my transgression, of course. It's just not like him, being distant to us like this. Typically, he would leave a message here plus blow up our disks with messages until one of us answered. Y'know, to give us the Talk."
"Which apparently you need." Quorra couldn't help but tease, knowing that he referred to the curfew talk. But the seriousness of the situation soon set in. "He was supposed to call again this morning."
Rubrix shrugged before lying back again. "He's probably just really busy. First day back and all. Probably doesn't want to mess up his focus by letting any distractions get in the way."
Quorra nodded, inwardly hoping that that really was all it was, and that he wasn't slouched down in a ditch somewhere, half-derezzed and fading away, bit by bit. A flash of the scene Zuse had shown her of those derezzed programs blurred her vision and left her heart pounding sporadically. There was no way… There was just no way that could happen to Nero. He was too strong to let it.
But maybe those other programs had been strong, too.
Without another word, the female ISO flitted back into her room and attempted to distract herself. She checked herself in the mirror in her bathroom yet again, making sure the armor of her light suit was applied correctly, scrutinized her makeup, and brushed her hair for the third time. A small tinge of hunger made itself known in her stomach, but she felt far too nervous to eat.
It wasn't just because of Nero's acute absence. She'd felt this way the moment she'd woken up this morning, before it became clear that he wasn't going to check in like he promised. She knew what it was. Every time she thought of the End of Line Club, her nerves would surge again and she'd feel shaky afterwards. It was just training today, but to Quorra it felt like it was so much more than that. This would truly be the first time that she did more than live on the Grid; she'd become a part of it, a fully functioning member providing a service to others. Intrinsically, she knew she wouldn't fail, but the possibility of it made her wish she could split apart, if only to escape the bundle of fear that was growing in her stomach and spreading to her limbs like a…
Like a virus.
Quorra reached up a hand—ungloved—to her forehead. Normal. She felt normal. She was fine. She needed to stop thinking this way.
It was rare, but programs could sometimes make themselves sick—could corrupt themselves—without any outside influence. One of the most talked about, unexplainable phenomena on the Grid, until the ISOs showed up.
She just kept moving. The closer it got to the time they had to leave for the club, the worse it got. Quorra felt like her head was replaced with a balloon full of empty space and hot air. The lightness was starting to make her dizzy. She couldn't seem to hold on to a thought before it escaped the thin elastic barrier to be replaced with something else.
She jumped when a hand perched itself on her shoulder.
It was Rubrix.
"Quorra." He turned her around and grabbed her face with his hands, fixing his forest green eyes on her deep blue ones. "Stop worrying. Everything's gonna be fine, so just relax, alright?"
He sounded so sure. Quorra allowed herself to believe him.
"Sorry." She smiled, taking his hands away from her face and into her own. "I'm being silly."
"Soooo… No different than usual?"
Quorra swatted at him.
Always ruining the moment.
As they finished getting ready, they grabbed their passes and left to board the next train. It was standing room only when they boarded, and as Quorra held on to the railing, waiting to approach their stop, she took a moment to be honest with herself. It was more than just the job she was nervous about, more than just the unknown of what a club scene would be like, whether Rubrix would come through with them for entertainment, or of what Nero's status was.
It was the fact that all of this would be going on at once, and she had a feeling that a pair of electric blue eyes would be watching her the entire time. Waiting for her to screw up. Waiting for her to prove that he really couldn't trust her with his secret.
Waiting for her to become a problem.
Having to tell Gem when they arrived that neither of them had secured the programs they'd promised was nothing short of mortifying. The mysterious program's understanding smile and assurances were worse to withstand than if she had yelled or been obviously disappointed in them. Quorra had an inkling that she was the only one who felt that way.
Things would be so much better if she could just forget the tail end of yesterday's conversation.
Does Gem know?
Of course.
Since the beginning, almost.
What tipped her off?
That's a personal matter.
Catching Gem's pale stare, Quorra couldn't help but wonder. Did she know that Quorra now knew about Zuse and Castor being one in the same? The ISO could swear that she did, her gaze was so cutting, so significant.
Quorra gave herself a mental shake. She was imagining things.
But it was such a strange feeling. Her perspective of her world had changed with Zuse's revelation, and she felt that the world had changed with it. Only it hadn't. Everything continued on, exactly the same as before without any pause for reflection or astonishment. And she was left adrift, floating on the waves in nothing but a slab of wood, waiting for it to tip over and the water to submerge her. Even if she could talk to Gem about it, would that even be wise? A secret like this one, even shared, wasn't something that would do for casual girl talk.
Maybe it was best, then, that Gem gave absolutely no sign of knowing and acted as she usually did. Quorra felt less tempted this way.
"We've found a few programs interested in security," Gem told them as she led them from the elevator. "They'll do for now. We've decided that the first few nights will be limited engagement." At their questioning looks, Gem clarified. "Invitation only. It'll be good for the staff. Most of you are new to the club scene, so this will get you used to what you can expect."
Two programs—one female, one male—were already behind the bar, becoming acquainted with the setup and everything on tap. A few others were studying seating charts. Quorra took them to be the new waiters and waitresses. A lone female program with long, blonde hair in a ponytail stood at the entrance. A hostess?
It took a moment for Quorra to realize why the room felt so empty even with all the programs currently spaced around the room. Zuse wasn't here.
It's Castor, she chastised herself. If you keep calling him Zuse in your head, you're going to slip up one day, and then what will happen?
Gem stopped in front of the blonde-haired program. "Quorra, this is Nydia, our head hostess. She'll be training you today. Rubrix, if you'll follow me."
"Anywhere you want," Rubrix replied, winking at Quorra who was in the process of looking at Rubrix with something akin to pity. Gem, thankfully, appeared amused. She was smiling. Sort of.
The Siren led Rubrix over to the bar, leaving Quorra and Nydia to get acquainted. Despite the fact that she looked a little younger than Quorra, Nydia spoke with confidence and enthusiasm, and it was clear that she'd lived on the Grid for a long time. Much longer than Quorra.
After re-introducing themselves, Nydia led Quorra over to a comfy booth settled along the club's wall. A pad was resting on the table, its black screen gleaming against the stark whiteness of the table. Nydia tapped the screen with her finger, and it instantly came to life.
"So, this is your first time working in a place like this, right?" Nydia asked.
Quorra shifted in her seat. "It's actually my first time working anywhere."
"Really?" Nydia's head jerked up, and Quorra found herself staring into eyes that were almost violet. "Well, you're lucky. Our job's the easy one. Although, if things get really busy, we'll be expected to help out the waiters and bartenders, too."
"I'm sure," Quorra said, leaning forward slightly to try and get a better view of whatever was on the pad's screen. "Do you think we'll be busy?"
"Oh, definitely," Nydia replied, scrolling a finger up the screen. "My friends have done nothing but freak out about this place since I told them about it. Even if this club were a complete dump, which it obviously isn't, it'd still draw a crowd. New additions to the Grid always do."
Finding whatever she was looking for, Nydia spun the pad around so that it was facing Quorra.
"This is the EOL Pad. It holds pretty much everything you'll need to know about this place. Work schedules, menus, reservations, events, and what have you. It updates in real time, so you can sync up your disk with it and download all the information. It'll update itself, so you don't have to worry about that after the initial sync. Pretty cool, right?"
Nydia showed Quorra how to sync up her disk with the pad, the entire time chattering about the other employees.
"The guy in the white suit rocking the goatee back there is Shaddix, the head bartender, and next to him is Pandora, though she's really not so bad. And I don't know anything about the new guy that came in with you, other than he's really hot."
"Ah, that's Rubrix, my brother."
"Oh." Nydia paused, looking out-of-place for the first time in the conversation. "Sorry. Didn't mean to make it awkward."
Quorra smiled reassuringly. "It's alright."
"Yeah," Nydia said. "Anyway, over there is Ren, the one with the wavy hair hanging halfway in his face. He's quiet, a little shy, I think. Then there's Wisteria, with the white hair and ultra-serene expression. Incredibly perceptive, though. She gives me the creeps sometimes. And finally there's Magnum, who looks like a bouncer, I know, but he's actually really good with the customers. I've seen him in action. Actually, all three of them work as one of the most solid teams I've ever seen. Like the Coneheads."
Quorra looked up from her disk. "You watch SNL?"
"Do I watch SNL? Please. I feel like I live SNL most days." Nydia grinned. "But yeah, it's pretty funny. The Users have a great sense of humor."
The ISO was intrigued. Had she met a program who didn't just believe in the Users but was also a fan of them like she was?
"So, do you watch for fun or for education?" Quorra asked.
"A little of both. Well, to be honest, mostly for fun, though." Nydia sighed wistfully, staring off into space. "Don't you wish you could see it sometimes? Their world, I mean, and not just through the lens of a camera, but to see it for real?"
"All the time."
Nydia came out of her trance and stared at Quorra as if she was really seeing her for the first time. The inevitable dart of her gaze to the glowing mark on Quorra's shoulder came just as she knew it would. Dread filled her as she wondered how the program would react.
"Oh, an ISO. I should have realized…" Nydia trailed off pensively, sadness creeping through her voice. As if a light switch had been turned on, Nydia suddenly brightened considerably. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. I was just hoping to meet another program like me. All my friends think I'm really weird to obsess over this User stuff like I do. They think it's unrealistic." She laughed, as if the whole thing were really absurd. "But now I'm really glad that we're working together, Quorra. I feel like I can be my whole self around you."
All the tension that had been building in Quorra's body was released at that admission. So Nydia wasn't an ISO-hater or anything like that.
"I'm glad we're working together, too." Quorra matched Nydia's beam. "Friends?"
"Definitely. What else are you into, Userly speaking?"
"I've been wanting to take up more reading. I actually got a book from the User's world. Not just an uploaded, public domain file, but a real solid book. Nineteen Eighty-Four."
"Whoa," Nydia breathed, star struck. "Are you serious? Those are incredibly rare here, and such a renowned title. How'd you get it?"
"It was a gift. From a friend." Quorra inwardly grimaced. She hoped Flynn would be okay with her assuming that about their relationship.
"Who is this friend, and when can you introduce me? Seriously!" Nydia looked around surreptitiously before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "Be real with me for a second. Was it that Zuse guy everyone always talks about? I've heard he's good at getting his hands on all kinds of rare things and information. Some think he can even create things from the User's world himself and rez them here."
Quorra's heart stopped at the mention of Zuse's name before pounding a harsh rhythm in her chest. She felt like a target was on her back now, and even though Nydia was shooting blind at it, the world was dangerously shifting forward, trying to make sure she would hit the bull's-eye. And the damn book didn't even have anything to do with Zuse! Quorra could not keep reacting this way at the very mention of his name.
Fixing a blank look on her face, the ISO listened with growing dread as Nydia rambled on every rumor she had ever heard about the elusive program. It all sounded like exaggerations to Quorra, especially the whole rezzing thing, something only the Creator was supposed to have the power to do. But a small voice in her head humored the possibilities. What if he could do things like that? What would it mean for him, for her, for programs as a whole? What would it mean for Flynn?
But the chatter soon died down from Nydia, and Quorra saw that she was waiting expectantly for the ISO's answer. How ironic it all was. That she was hoping for a confirmation of a rumor about her very employer, and she had no idea who he truly was. However, Quorra's actual answer sounded even more absurd than Zuse, but if she hesitated any longer, she might draw suspicion.
So, Quorra told the truth.
"I got it from Kevin Flynn, actually."
She was met with stunned silence. After awhile, Quorra started to fear that Nydia had short-circuited. Even the blue lines in her suit seemed to freeze in place.
"What?" the blonde finally whispered, looking at Quorra as if she had just encountered a beautiful but dangerous thing.
"I got it from Kevin Flynn," Quorra repeated just as quietly. "You know, the Creator."
"Oh, I know!" Nydia squeaked. "We all know who that is. Just—wow! Really? This is gonna take a little time for me to process. Even better than Zuse, I don't…"
Quorra furrowed her brow as Nydia became more and more incoherent. However, the ISO jumped when Nydia suddenly slammed both hands down on the table, searing Quorra with the most intense looked she'd ever seen. It was almost manic.
"You listen to me, Quorra, and you listen good. You treat that book like it's precious, more precious than data, more precious than energy even, because it is. Do you even know how much something like that could be worth?"
"I'm…sure it'd sell for a lot."
"Oh, yeah, but I'm not talking about that. It's worth more than it's monetary value. No, it's what's inside it. The information. A passing glimpse into the User's world, into the Creator's mind, even, since it once belonged to him. Do you know how many of us want that?"
"I—"
"I mean, yeah, sure, we have the television shows and the films and the public domain materials the Creator's given us to learn from, and I actually enjoy just experiencing that stuff. Some other programs, though… They're not watching and reading to enjoy it. They want to be like the Creator! Even worse, some want to replace the Creator."
This conversation…was not going at all the way Quorra first thought it would. She was feeling scared again, like when she wasn't sure if she could trust Zuse or not. Unlike that time, though, Quorra knew she could trust the person she was speaking to. It was everyone else who she was becoming unsure of.
Nydia continued. "So you get it, right? As completely cool as it is, you cannot tell just anyone that you have that thing. If the wrong person finds out…"
"That would mean…trouble?"
"Big trouble."
Before Quorra could respond, a cool voice cut into their conversation. "What means trouble?"
Gem stood at the head of their table, an undecipherable expression on her face. Quorra froze. She hadn't even heard her approach. How much had she overheard? Nydia recovered first.
"Quorra not getting these seating charts memorized before opening night. But I think she can handle it, don't you, Gem? Oh, look, Quorra! Your disk finished syncing."
Distracted, Quorra looked down at her disk, realizing that Nydia was right. Lifting it gently in her hands, she easily accessed the EOL database, checking through a few files to make sure they worked correctly. Finished, she replaced her disk in its holster only to freeze when she noticed that Gem's nearly white stare still focused on her.
But the Siren said nothing, seeming to contemplate Nydia's explanation. If she accepted it, Quorra didn't know. All Gem did was motion for them to rise from their seats. "Head over to the bar. Shaddix is going to show you all some basic drink orders in case they'll need you when peak hours hit."
The three approached the bar, situating themselves in between Wisteria, who smiled at them, and Ren, who made it his personal mission to not look at any of them. He shifted a little away from Nydia, never removing his gaze from the bottles of electric blue energy in front of them.
Ren wasn't the only one projecting an agitated sort of vibe. Shaddix stood with his arms crossed, casting a glare over to Rubrix, who was grinning innocently. The male ISO seemed to realize the exact moment Quorra sent him a "what did you do now?" look, for his grin widened considerably. Pandora stood between the two, and it was she who broke the silence.
"Alright, newbies, listen up. We're gonna walk you through a few basic cocktails, but there's one thing I want you all to remember. There's a science to this, and you are all plenty capable of computing it. I guarantee that once you get these measurements down, you'll never make a drink wrong. Not to mention, making the standard three drinks in a minute-thirty or less will be no problem. Now everyone grab a glass and a bottle. We'll walk through this one together first and see how you do."
Quorra realized quickly that she didn't possess the innate talent of pouring the right measurements from the get-go like Rubrix apparently did. She tended to overpour energy, but she was decent on handling the fruit mixtures. At least she wasn't a lost cause like the entire bar quickly labeled Wisteria, who only smiled genially at everyone. Throughout the tutorial, Pandora kept using Rubrix as an example to them, and every time she did, Shaddix's scowl only deepened.
Not even fifteen minutes into it, however, the sound of the elevator doors opening and the acute rhythm of marching feet stole everyone's attention away from the mixology lesson. The shots in front of her forgotten, Quorra spun around to see four programs marching single-file towards them in two rows. A fifth program led them, his parchment-like skin instantly noticeable against his black light suit.
At first glance, they all appeared to be security programs with their heavy armor and the appearance of uniformity in their suits. The closer they came, however, the more incongruities about them were noticeable. The different style boots. The fact that some missed helmets while others had them. The lack of any kind of security mark or badge to distinguish their authority. But it seemed like authority wasn't something they went without. All five walked with a sense of purpose, of pride, and as they came to a halt in unison in front of the group, Quorra knew who they were. Volunteer units. Part peacekeepers, part vigilantes, they policed the streets as ordinary citizens, often in places where the security programs were spread too thin to reach. So why were they here?
Magnum stepped forward, hands clenched at his side. "Sorry, we're closed." While his tone was polite, his deep voice spoke with an underlying warning and his body was clearly tensed. He was ready for a fight.
The vigilante programs seemed to completely ignore him. Their leader held his ground, his hands resting behind his back as he scanned the group in front of him.
At last, he spoke, his voice a metallic vibration.
"Where is Zuse?"
A jolt tore through Quorra, and she felt like the spotlight of a recognizer was beaming down solely upon her. She thought of looking anywhere but at the leader who'd spoken but resigned herself to focusing her gaze solidly on his breastplate. Anything else would look too suspicious. Clear avoidance would be noticed in an instant with this group, who was often rumored to be more ruthless than real security programs.
So she clenched her fists and bit down lightly on her tongue to stay poised. Rubrix had been right. She needed to work on her self-discipline. Her feelings were too easily on display.
After a pause where no one knew how to respond to the leader's out-of-the-blue question, Shaddix surprised them all by laughing. "Zuse? How should we know? Give me a break."
"We know he is in this area."
"Sure, that's what they say," Shaddix replied, coming around the bar to stand beside Magnum, placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. Or to hold him back. "Still doesn't mean he's here."
"But his spokesperson is," said the leader, his tone never changing. "So, let's stop playing games. Which of you is the one called Castor?" His gaze swept through them again, landing on one in particular. "Is it you?"
"Me?" Rubrix laughed nervously, pointing at himself. "No way, man. Not at all."
The leader looked like he wanted to continue his interrogation, but another voice, this one lightly teasing, stopped him. For once, it didn't make Quorra gladder to hear it.
"I should certainly say not. He doesn't have enough style for one thing."
Castor had emerged from the back entrance, Gem at his side. None of them had noticed her absence, and Quorra felt a rush of gratitude to the Siren. She'd known trouble when she saw it and took immediate action while the rest of them just stood there and stared, like a couple of bugs mesmerized by a sudden bright light.
"You're Castor?" inquired the leader.
"The one and only." Castor smiled fondly at Gem. "And thank you, lovely, for letting me know about the mob at my front door."
A smirk curled Gem's features. However, she stayed where she was, watching, as Castor stepped farther into the room. Confidence lightened his every step, his cane tapping every other step on the floor for sport only. It was clear by his swagger that he didn't need it.
"Now what's this all about, boys? What's so important that Zusey needs to get involved?"
The leader's newly clenched jaw at the sight of Castor was the only thing that gave away that he was unsure of himself. Clearly, Castor was not what he had been expecting of someone claiming to represent the great and powerful Zuse.
In spite of herself, Quorra's lips curled into a smile. She could sympathize.
"It's not something," the leader said delicately, "we can discuss here."
Castor smiled indulgently, coming to a stop in front of them. Between him, the crowd at the bar, and the vigilante programs, an equilateral triangle was formed. Castor began to play with the cane in his hands, tilting it back and forth.
"I would ask for you all to step into my office, but there's barely enough room for my ego in there. Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of my employees. It's the least you could do after disturbing them so."
He was playing with them! Quorra stared, transfixed. Seeing Castor at work for the first time was…unexplainable. And surreal, since she was one of the few in the room who knew.
Well, maybe this wasn't exactly the first time for Quorra. She supposed that Castor had played with her yesterday, too, but somehow it had been different than it was now. With her, he'd only seemed teasing. In contrast, with these programs, she could detect a hint of maliciousness in his mannerisms. Along with him clearly enjoying the situation a little too much, he seemed a little touchy. And he'd spoken up for them, his employees. Was he angry that these strange programs had barged in and practically harassed them just to get to him?
"Bartik wouldn't want this spread around," the leader argued further.
"I don't much care about what Bartik wants until he has the spine to come speak with me himself. Instead of sending what I'm sure are very capable lackeys of his to browbeat my employees." His grin was less a smile and more a baring of teeth.
Definitely angry.
"You're saying that sending a messenger to talk to a messenger isn't sufficient?"
"Zuse wouldn't think so. It lacks… initiative on your part."
The leader ran a hand over his face, frustrated. "Very well, Castor. But I'm only telling you this because Zuse needs to know, and I know that you'll pass it on." He paused, casting a warning look over at the bar. "And I trust that your dear employees will understand the meaning of being discreet."
"I hired them on more than their looks alone." Castor winked in their direction, and Quorra convinced herself that he didn't look at her in particular but at the group as a whole. "So don't you worry about that."
Resigning himself, the leader proceeded. "There's been an attack."
The silence somehow became thicker in the room, almost deafening. Even so, Castor shrugged, tossing up his cane so it rested across his shoulder blades.
"There are always attacks."
"Not like this. It didn't involve just one or two programs this time. Tron's unit found over fifty programs infected with the Abraxas virus. They're all in quarantine right now, thanks to the fast actions of the Creator. But it gets worse."
"I can't imagine," Castor replied, but his voice was devoid of sarcasm this time. A grimness had taken hold of him as he listened to each word with growing dread. "What else happened if they're quarantined already?"
"It seems that, given the initial analysis of the scene and its casualties, the infected have been programed to go after a specific target."
The entire room waited with bated breath, utterly focused on the program's next words. The words infected, quarantined, and target floated in Quorra's mind, unable to escape. Her head felt like it had the heaviness of a bowling ball, such a stark contrast from her balloon-like lightness earlier in the day.
"They're going after the ISOs."
The weight became too much. Quorra fell backwards at the words, lucky that one of the stools at the bar was there to catch her. Every eye in the room focused on her—whether due to her reaction or because they knew what she was, she didn't know and she didn't care. She didn't hear or feel anything for several moments as she just focused on her breathing, marveling at the fact that she was alive, still alive.
Because according to another word that had entered her mind—casualties—she had a few brothers and sisters who may not have been so lucky.
"How many?" But the question didn't come from Castor, but from Rubrix, fear and urgency evident in his voice.
"Two," the leader answered slowly.
Two.
This word burned, practically setting her mind on fire. Every other word smoldered under its flame.
Two. Two ISOs dead. Not just derezzed but dead. Dead, dead, DEAD—
A hand was on her shoulder in comfort while another gripped her own hand tightly. Rubrix clenched her shoulder in a vice, but it didn't hurt. All she could focus on was how badly he was shaking. Nydia gazed at her worriedly, her eyes too shiny, as she held onto her hand for dear life.
"And you are sure," Castor said, "that ISOs were the targets?"
"There were Basics on the scene, and none of them were harmed. Some even tried to defend the ISOs, but they were just tossed aside. The infected didn't go for them at all."
Castor turned away, a hand on his lips as he paced a little in thought.
"Did any escape or get derezzed?"
"Only the ones that struggled too much. We caught the rest. None escaped, except through deresolution."
Castor nodded, as if this information wasn't really new to him. He didn't ask anything else.
"You will inform Zuse about this, won't you?" the leader asked.
Castor turned back to face him, his expression stony. "Given his absence, believe me when I say with utmost certainty that he already knows."
Confused at first, the leader only nodded stiffly. "Understood." A few barks of commands later, he led his men out of the room and down the elevator.
The silence that followed in their absence was suffocating this time.
Instead of taking immediate action, like Quorra assumed he would do, Castor stood there, silent, contemplative. The program's words had set him in a rare serious mood, and no one in the room was willing to coax him out of it. All the same, Quorra felt a stab of anger. Why wasn't he doing anything? He cared about the ISOs, didn't he? So why was he just standing there, while two of her brethren were gone forever?
Quorra couldn't wrap her head around any of it. There had been an attack, and worse, an infection. How was this happening? Why didn't Flynn have this under control? He made this system, so why couldn't he locate one rogue virus? Two programs had died. Two ISOs had died. No matter how many times she thought about it, none of it seemed real.
Castor's sudden footsteps sounded so loud through the deathly silent room as he moved away from them towards the elevator. She watched, unfeeling as he stopped just before leaving the main room behind.
Without looking back, he intoned, "This doesn't leave this room. If it does, consider yourselves let go."
Not waiting for an affirmative, he entered the elevator and was soon gone.
Quorra couldn't focus on work for the rest of the day.
A/N: I've decided to only take cues every so often from the Tron history before Legacy, because I honestly don't have time to locate all the research I need for it. Plus, I want to actually tell my own story and be creative, and isn't that what fanfiction is all about? All the same, I have no intention of turning this into some strange AU of the Legacy timeline. Things will coincide with what happens and with what is alluded to in the film. I'm just filling in a lot of the blanks myself.
Once again, please review and let me know what you think about things! Positive, negative, I like it all!