Chapter 7
Alan waited until well after the workday officially ended, until all the cubicles around him had emptied and the usual hum of activity had faded to silence. He knew Lora was working late tonight, too; they'd made plans to catch a 9:00 movie. That was assuming everything went as planned. He tapped briefly on his keyboard, calling up Tron, and watched code begin scrolling down the screen in fits and starts. Alan frowned. His program seemed a little … sluggish? No, that wasn't it. Hesitant. The programmer smiled to himself; Lora teased him about his tendency to anthropomorphize his program. He couldn't help it. He felt close to Tron, almost paternal. It would be very, very hard on Alan if worst came to worst …
TRON, ARE YOU FUNCTIONING PROPERLY?
YES.
I AM GOING TO INSTALL SOME NEW CODE. IT WILL MAKE YOU FASTER. STRONGER.
I AM READY, ALAN-ONE.
Alan's fingers hesitated over the keys. This next bit was hard.
TRON, YOU KNOW YOUR PRIMARY PURPOSE.
TO DEFEND THE GRID. TO PROTECT YORI.
YOU MUST PROTECT YORI, TRON.
YES.
IF YORI IS THREATENED, USE ALL YOUR WEAPONRY.
YES.
I HAVE CREATED SOME SPECIAL CODING, TRON, TO HELP YOU PROTECT YORI.
I AM READY.
USE THIS CODE ONLY IF THERE IS NO OTHER WAY TO PROTECT YORI.
I UNDERSTAND.
I'M GOING TO INSTALL THE CODE NOW, TRON. THEN RECOMPILE YOUR PROGRAMMING.
I AM READY, ALAN-ONE.
Be strong, Tron, Alan thought as his fingers began to fly over the keyboard.
Yori stood at the edge of the Digitization Module's gridspace, tapping her toes impatiently. The transport was late again. She rolled her eyes. This was the most advanced sector on the Grid; you'd think the transport system would be a little less consistently glitchy. She toyed with the idea of walking back to her quarters, but knew Tron wouldn't approve. She wondered how his upgrade was coming along, and felt a little knot of anxiety in her core.
Most recompiles went smoothly. But occasionally, Programs came back from the In/Out Tower … wrong. Yori remembered a Simulation Program in her team who turned up stark raving mad. Lora had tried to stabilize her, but the young Program had derezzed herself before she could be debugged. Yori shuddered at the memory of the Program's wild, desperate eyes in the instant before she dissolved in a sparkling cloud of random bits.
Yori wished again that she had the blind faith in the Users that Tron did. It's just that sometimes … well, Yori couldn't help wondering if the Users really considered how their actions affected their creation. Or even – though she would never say this to Tron – whether the Users even knew they existed. As she pondered these blasphemies, Yori was distracted by something at the edge of her peripheral vision. She turned her head to see a section of the grid bulging and rippling and a diffuse glow spreading over the surface. The movement was accompanied by a high-pitched hum. Puzzled, she stepped closer.
Suddenly the surface of the Grid erupted, spewing forth a seething, roiling mass of – well, Yori didn't know what it was. She jerked back, but the mass flowed like fluid energy over the top of Yori's boot. She realized it wasn't a fluid when it began swarming up her leg. With a little cry, she began brushing at her leg, trying to brush it off. It enveloped her hand. She raised it before her face and saw that what she thought was a single entity was actually comprised of innumerable, four-legged scuttling creatures. At that same moment, Yori felt the pain.