Chapter 4

Aaron zipped down the lane, snaking through the traffic. His red Suzuki 2020 seemed as a blur as it glided down the black pavement. From inside his helmet, the speedometer projected on his visor accompanied with his mileage and gas levels glowed. The Highway seemed more open than when Aaron usually drove back home to Culver City. As he came to the exit, Aaron turned off the freeway and onto Venice Blvd. After circling the roundabout with precision, Aaron drove down the street till he turned again onto Culver Blvd. The lights of the city streaked by as he sped past its vibrant nightlife. Aaron eased off the clutch and felt the power of his bike ease with it. As he continued down, he passed a bustling two-story brick building with a round front supported by pillars. Teenagers out on the night jumped in and out of the building which Aaron knew all too well as the ancient relic of his family's legacy, Flynn's Arcade. Though it was no longer run by a Flynn, Encom had a partnership and out of respect, the name was kept. But to Aaron it was just an ancient pile of bricks that meant nothing but dissent in his life. It was only by his Grandfather's wish that Encom continued to support Flynn's. Had it been up to his father to decide, the building would have been torn down. Aaron once had a past there, but that's all it was, another memory in his rearview mirror. He tilted his weight to turn the motorcycle. Just further down the road was Old Sammie's Bar, vibrant and alive with adults of all ages and shapes. Aaron slowed his powerful bike down even more till it came to a stop in a spot far off in the corner of the lot. As he disengaged the power and climbed off the sleek body of his bike, the display in his visor disappeared. He slid the helmet off his head and unzipped the top of his leather jacket. Aaron stepped away from his bike to a pole. He slid his currency card into the slot on the top and watched as a display popped in front of him. He tapped the desired parking time then was given his card back. As he turned away, an orange energy field emitted around the perimeter of his spot. Aaron ruffled away his helmet-hair as he stepped up the steps to the bar. At the door, a group of three girls giggled and smirked at him. Aaron couldn't help but return the smirk as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Unlike bars of the day, with flashing lights and lasers striking out to the beat of computerized music accompanied by fog, Sammie's was a tad more "old school." It was still dimly lit and the music known as dub step punched in the air, but stools and billiards tables accompanied by the local football game could still be found along with the bar favorites. After very little searching, Aaron spotted Trey in the corner of the bar, though he was not alone. Another man sat with his back to Aaron, obviously intriguing Trey with some conversation. It wasn't till Aaron was four feet away that Trey recognized his presence.

"Aaron, there you are," he said with welcome. Finally the other man turned around to face Aaron. When Aaron recognized the face of the man he apprehended only hours ago, his mouth opened in awe. The man's face however immediately turned sour as he recognized the deep brown eyes and small tiny mole under the left one; the cop that had jumped off his bike and tackled him to the ground. Aaron decided to make light of the awkward moment.

"Hope I didn't hit you too hard," he mused. Sage stared back.

"Beginner's luck," he shot back.

"Tell that to my Varsity coach," Aaron snapped as he pulled the stool under him. He sat down as Trey chuckled uneasily.

"Sage this is Aaron, Aaron Flynn," Trey said with a grin. Aaron glanced over with a sour look.

"Trey, it's Dietz," he said defensively. "She's the one that actually did the raising." Trey sighed uncomfortably.

"Well none of the less," Trey said to Sage. "His Grandfather was Daniel Flynn." Aaron looked confused and glanced to the other man at the table. He stared right back, as if he was analyzing him.

"Trey, who's this?" Aaron asked. Trey cleared his throat.

"He's called Sage. Where he's from, is a different story altogether," Trey replied as he waved over a waitress. As she arrived, Trey ordered three beers. As she went away, Trey eased closer to the table. After his moment of distraction by the following the waitress with his eyes, Aaron turned back around and leaned in. "Aaron, do you remember those stories your Grandfather used to tell you, back when you were ten?"

"You mean his 'war fairytales,'" he chuckled. "Yeah, I remember them. I remember being so fascinated by them, then one day at school as I share them with my teachers, I get sent to the principal's for lying. Then Dad goes and tells me to forget them, Grandpa's an old coot!" Aaron eased back again as memories flashed by of he and his Grandfather spending time on the upper floor of Flynn's Arcade, where a shrine was built to commemorate another world. As young Aaron would sit cross-legged on the sofa, his rather vibrant Grandfather sat in a chair, backwards, facing the awed child, motioning exciting moments with his hands. As Aaron thought back on them, he realized them as fond memories. "But I always enjoyed hearing them," Aaron said with a grin. At that moment, the waitress returned with three bottles balanced on a round tray. Trey smiled fondly as he grabbed for his. When the waitress finally turned away, Trey leaned back in. He was about to open his mouth to speak, when he saw Sage eyeing the bottle in front of him with bewilderment. Sage looked back at Trey helpless.

"You don't have to drink it," he mumbled. Sage hesitantly raised the glass bottle to his lips then sipped the beverage. As he took it away, he smacked his lips. Then with a look of approval, drank again. Aaron couldn't help but stare at Sage as if he just dropped from the sky. "Anyway," Trey coughed to regain Aaron's attention. "What if I told you, he wasn't lying." Aaron looked back over at his godfather. "He fudged a few details like who and where, but those stories are an actual history." Trey glanced over at Sage. "His history," he added. Aaron stared back at Sage. After moments of surveying him, he noticed things he hadn't before. Sage's skin tone was very pale, too pale for someone who lives in the constant sun of California; as if it were grey, yet normal. But the one thing that stuck out more, was his eyes. His irises were pale and not round, but octagon. Aaron looked back over at Trey.

"What's going on here Trey?" Aaron demanded.

"This won't be too easy for you to understand, but Sage is not from our world per say," Trey said slowly. "He's from the Grid, your Great-great-great Grandfather's creation. He's what's called a…"

"A Program," Aaron finished with fascination. "How is he here then?"

"I came via the portal, in the heart of the Temple of Flynn." Aaron chuckled at the idea of a building being revered as a temple in his family name. Trey however did not join in his amusement.

"Aaron you must understand, to them your Grandfather is a God," Trey said sincerely. Aaron found this too much, nearly asinine. His Great-great-great Grandfather had the reputation of being an open-minded punk; successful or not.

"Aaron, now I have a story to tell you," Sage piped in. Aaron looked back at his godfather. There was no joke about his face, he could tell this was serious. Aaron nodded at Sage.

"Alright."