Chapter 5

Alan's brain was cluttered with a long day's worth of code as he waited for the elevator that would deliver him to ENCOM's vast parking level. His stomach growled, and he weighed the relative appeal of take-out Chinese versus pizza delivery. Man does not live on popcorn alone, he thought wryly. Just as he was about to give the elevator a good, swift kick (he had a vague notion the machine only responded to punitive measures), the call button pinged and the door hissed open. Not surprisingly, the car was empty at this late hour; few ENCOM employees put in more overtime than Alan Bradley. He stepped inside.

"Alan! Alan Bradley!"

The programmer thrust out a hand to stop the door from closing and peered out of the elevator. Lora Baines was hurrying down the corridor toward him as fast as a slim skirt and treacherous heels would allow. Alan could only raise his brows appreciatively at her enticing silhouette; she'd shed her lab coat to reveal a short, tweedy pencil skirt and soft, brown sweater. She smiled and waved a hand to indicate Alan should hold the elevator for her. He did.

"Thanks!" Lora gasped as she stepped into the car. "I knew if I missed this one, I'd be waiting another 10 minutes."

Alan nodded amiably as the door stuttered closed in front of them. "Yeah, you'd think a company on the razor's edge of technology would power their elevator system with something more advanced than a gerbil on an exercise wheel."

She laughed at that, a soft, silvery sound that sent a pleasant shiver up Alan's spine. "Parking, or street?" he asked, his hand hovering over the panel of buttons.

"Street. I'm busing it this week. Car's in the shop."

It was on the tip of Alan's tongue to offer her a ride, but given the tenor of their previous encounter, he had no expectation that the suggestion would be welcome. Even if she did seem markedly friendlier at the moment.

So instead they stood in awkward silence until the car reached street level and the door slid open again. Lora started to step out, then hesitated. "Alan," she began, almost timidly, "I've been thinking about what you said — about the potential threats to the network."

"Uh huh?" he answered, not sure where this was going.

The door started to close, and Lora leaned against it. "I think – I was wondering if we could discuss that further sometime."

Alan was sure his delighted astonishment was written all over his face, but he decided to play it cool. "Ah … yeah. Sure. Be glad to. Any time." Way to dazzle her with your eloquence, Bradley, he thought, giving himself an invisible kick.

"Great!" Lora glanced down at her watch. "Do you have time to go for coffee now?"

Alan didn't try to stop a grin from spreading over his face. "I think I can work it into my schedule."

Coffee turned into burgers at a nearby Denny's when they compared notes and discovered neither had eaten since that morning. Lora had brought an orange for lunch, but sacrificed it on the altar of science – a test of the digitization apparatus that left the fruit wrinkled, smoldering and possibly a bit radioactive.

"It was disappointing," Lora shrugged as they slid into opposite sides of a vinyl-covered booth. "I guess it's just as well we didn't go with my first choice of experimental subject, Fred Fielder from Accounts Payable."

Alan guffawed. Fielder was notorious as the little tin god of the Accounting Department, forcing employees through endless administrative hoops for a lousy parking voucher. Alan and Lora engaged in small talk as they perused the menus. After the waitress took their orders, Lora leaned across the table and lowered her voice.

"Alan, you said Tron could defend against attacks from outside ENCOM," she said seriously.

He nodded.

"Well … what about threats from inside?"

Alan's response was a slight widening of his eyes.

Lora took a sip of her iced tea and continued. "You know that chess program we were discussing the other day?"

"Yep. Dillinger's proudest achievement." Alan's disdain was evident.

She smirked back at him. "Yeah, well, Dillinger's little toy has been getting grabby. Taking control of programs all over the network."

"So I've noticed," Alan nodded. "And you think your program is next."

"Dillinger as much as said so! He was down in the lab yesterday harassing Walter. I heard him say that all of ENCOM's proprietary software would eventually reside in MCP's subnet." She snorted. "Some claptrap about eliminating 'incompatability issues' on the network."

"Ha! Meaning that allowing us programmers to do our jobs in peace is incompatible with his need to micromanage the whole damned company." He paused when the waitress appeared with their plates, waited until she was out of earshot. "It's getting so we have to bow and scrape to Dillinger for permission to order a spare circuit board." He shook his head in disgust. "They've been tightening the reins every since that hotshot Flynn-"

Alan clamped his mouth shut and felt his face flush with embarrassment. Across from him, Lora lowered her eyes and began studying the pattern on the paper placement.

"I'm sorry, Lora. I didn't mean …"

Her slim shoulders shrugged slightly. "It's okay," she said, lifting her face to meet his gaze. "Flynn is a maverick. Brilliant, but not really cut out for corporate culture." She smiled a little sadly. "I'm not denying that the current administrative crackdown might have something to do with Flynn's … unorthodox work habits. What I want to know is how I can keep Dillinger from co-opting my project."

Alan could see her getting worked up. Part of it might have had to do with Flynn, but he suspected she was most distressed about the possibility of losing control of an effort she'd put countless hours into. It seemed to Alan that creating a new program was in some ways like giving birth. And any parent would do whatever it took to protect their "baby."

Looking into her beautiful face, her expression set with grim determination to protect what was hers, Alan felt a steely resolve form inside him. He reached across and covered her small hand with his own. "Don't worry, Lora. Nothing is going to get to Yori."

"How do you know?" He saw the flicker of hope in her eyes.

"Because Tron is protecting it."