Chapter 11
Dec-5-2015
My name is Sam Flynn. It has been five years since I first came to the Grid. Although life back at home has kept me preoccupied, what with the company and little Eric, I just couldn't stay away. I returned to my Dad's old lab under the arcade and sent myself back to the Grid. I know the risk, I run the possibility of getting trapped here as my Dad did, but I had to come back. The first place I came to was my Dad's abandoned hideout. I remembered the way easily enough, but what was strange was that the lift taking me into the house, recognized me. As I stepped on board, it activated and sent me right up, as if it was waiting for me. I remembered everything about his pure, white sanctuary. I thumbed through the selection of literature he and Quorra shared, remembering her note of Jules Verne being her favorite. At the very end of the row, I found this book. The white binding stuck out to me. For the past few hours, I have read what appears to be my Dad's personal journal, a record he kept during his exile here on the Grid. After having read his story, I now feel an indescribable feeling to tell my story. I don't know whether or not this will one day find itself either gathering dust or in the hands of a descendant but either way, I hope to bring some help in some way. My story begins with an unexpected visit at my apartment in L.A…
February-15-2071
More rioting. There's a serious problem on the Grid and I'm not entirely sure what to do. My Father's Prime Minister purposed program, Lyon is getting worried. I have tried to assure him otherwise, but he is doubtful. He of all programs knows, I will not kill. No, to increase enforcement even further than it already is would only ensue further bloodshed. But The Grid can't be left as it is, nearly crashing into chaos. Good programs are often too scared to even leave their own dwellings. But I don't know what to do.
April-3-2071
Rioting is still a huge problem, and it's gotten even worse. But I think I may have a solution. Grandpa Flynn would probably kill me for even considering this, let alone even implementing it. I was perusing old records and data that Grandpa Flynn had collected from way long ago (1982 if I'm not mistaken) of the original Gaming Grid. One such element of that data caught my eye, the Master Control Program(MCP). Again I might be crazy, but there could be an answer in this somewhere. The MCP regulated activity in the Encom servers, harshly yes, but effective. If I could find some way to implement an MCP-like system, that might be my non-violent solution.
April-4-2071
I've given this a lot of thought, I am going to try the MCP. Lucky for me, Grandpa Flynn and Dad doesn't throw anything away, since Grandpa actually saved the hard drive of the MCP. But I'm going to need help. The Hardware is severely out of date and I don't know anything about its function. After a quick search through Encom's archives, I found a familiar name under the MCP's tags, Edward Dillinger and Edward Dillinger Jr. Again, Grandpa Flynn would not like me even considering allowing Dillinger any access to the Grid. I'll have to think this through.
May-29-2072
It's been months now since we started the development of MCP2. I have tried to hone in on the perfect balance of control and freedom, but too protective is too tyrannous and too lenient is too weak. I refuse to deny programs their free will, but otherwise…nothing but chaos. Needless to say, the Beta Grid is…a bust. Of course Dillinger says I'm being too paranoid and need to write the program with more command. I'm still not sure about him. At times he proves a real help but there's still this side of me that tells me that deep down, he is still my Dad's corporate rival, especially after my Dad killed Dillinger's pirate program on the Grid. To this day, it's still a mystery how Dillinger snuck onto the server, something that haunted my Dad till the day he died.
June-6-2072
Last night I received a call from Encom Security, there was a break in at my office of all places. Security cameras can't find a face anywhere. The level of technical know-how to invade the company's firewall, it's insane, but I have a hunch. What's more is that absolutely nothing happened. It was as if they walked in then walked out. I checked my Father's lab, everything seemed fine. I even called down Dan. Dan wanted to check the Grid. At that moment I considered telling him about the Beta Grid, but I didn't…I don't know why.
The past two weeks seemed to follow an endless pattern for Aaron. Every day, he and the Defenders snuck out of the confines of Tron City and ventured to the outer rim of Master City. Their patrols seemed to be rather low key, just watching over the Guard's activity and keeping an eye out on neutral programs. Dep described them as lost, confused; not loyal to the Disciples nor enemies to the Defenders. They were good beings that wanted only to live uninterrupted by the wicked dealings of the radicals that perused the city. At the end of a day, they returned to Tron City, where Aaron would hunker down in his bunk and read more from the white leather-bound Book of Flynn. The journal entries of his Grandfathers was profoundly interesting. As Aaron delved into the writings of his Grandpa Eric, he felt he was exploring more than his Grandfather's experience. He was living a history that seemed crucial to understand. For some reason, Eric Flynn never full out described what he hinted as the 'Beta Grid'; yet it caught Aaron's attention every time. As Aaron and Dep sat on the edge of a rooftop in the main plaza of Tron City, Aaron's curiosity struck again.
"Do you know anything about the Beta Grid?" he asked out of the blue. Dep diverted his attention from the busy levels to his companion.
"The Beta Grid?" he repeated. "Rumors only. It's said it was an experimentation ground. They say it exists without existing. No program has ever set foot there." Dep stared at Aaron with a sudden interest. "How did you know about that?"
"Read about it," Aaron said. Dep was about to inquire further when his attention was suddenly grabbed. Aaron too heard the disturbance. He jumped to his feet eager that finally something was going to happen. Dep rose to his feet as well and placed his strong hand on Aaron's shoulder.
"Easy there." The both of them watched as a program crashed into a small market display, causing a tumultuous uproar as goods and intricate merchandise spilled over the glossy black level. The troubled program sprung to his feet again as from behind, two guards shouted after him in a pursuit. Aaron looked closely to see that the program showed no display of circuitry. The program tarried through the crowd of the plaza and leapt into the alley across from Dep and Aaron's vantage point.
"Now?" Aaron pleaded.
"Now." Dep and Aaron ran at full speed to the left. Once at the edge, Dep pounced across an absurd gap. Aaron followed seamlessly; having now understood the potential he had on the Grid. Dep navigated the Grid with precision; having the knowledge of Daniel Flynn. The program sprinted straight off the roof and onto a glowing cable spanning across the open plaza to a balcony at the far end. As the program streaked across the cable, his arms were back keeping his balance as he stayed low, centering his mass on the three inch thick cable. Aaron too strode with ease, after having practiced the improvised shortcuts used distinctly by the Defenders. At the end of the cable, Dep leapt off with his cloak flowing behind him. Aaron followed with a bound from the cable and a grab onto a ledge adjacent to him. Dep landed onto the roof of an opposite structure and surged forward with his eye on the distressed program below. Aaron dropped from the ledge onto an awning like extension then leapt onto another level. He continued his pursuit, following Dep's movements. The chase however diverted Aaron away from Dep's trail as he found himself facing a vast open area.
"Oh great now what," Aaron groaned. Suddenly, Aaron felt a forceful thud on his back. He was thrown off the ledge and into the spotlight as he crashed into the plaza. Programs all around gasped as they saw the mysterious figure crash painfully. Aaron groaned as he attempted to get to his feet, Aaron took another blow, spinning onto his back. He finally identified his attacker. Two guards loomed over him. As Aaron kicked to a squat, he noticed the guards' light suits were different than others. Instead of an intricate, symmetrical design for circuitry, their uniform emitted orange with one wide strip spanning down its right.
"Don't you look pretty," Aaron mocked as he reached for his disc. The two guards flared their arms with a drilled technique as two short blades emitted from their wrists. The orange beams sizzled as the guard somersaulted to Aaron's left and lunged at him. Aaron rolled back to avoid the hit and expertly activated his baton. The other guard leapt at Aaron head on. The user raised his bladed baton to block the blow as he chucked his disc at the other. The disc missed its mark and angled into steep climb as it looped back to Aaron's grip. Again the guard attacked with his wrist blades, but Aaron was ready for them. In his brief time on the Grid, he had grown accustomed to the fighting style of the Grid; though some of his street brawling from his world did peak in, throwing ferocious blows. The guard kicked high, hitting Aaron's wrist, releasing his grip on his baton. Aaron lost track of the device but stayed focused on his assailant. He grabbed the wrist of the guard with his free hand and threw a disc-armed punch to the side of his head. The guard derezzed in front of him as he spun around to face the other attacker. With his focus momentarily relaxed, the guard scored a lucky blow to Aaron's abdomen. The blade barely cut through his suit and nicked the top of his skin. As Aaron keeled over, few drops of maroon spurt from his wound. As the blood spilt, programs surrounding the encounter as bystanders shrieked in horror. The guard's gaze followed the substance through his polarized visor. The uproar and bustling life of the plaza was struck dumb and silent with only murmurs and whispers. All around the strained whispers of the programs carried the same title; "User." The guard's head snapped back to stare at Aaron face to face. Aaron looked back into the reflective, black visor. Suddenly, a single bright flash emitted from the deep black of its visor. Aaron continued to stare in confusion as he held his wound. The guard then retracted his blades then turned and ran. Confused, Aaron continued to watch the guard as it fled. Aaron breathed heavily regaining his strength. As he looked around at the pale, faces of programs sporting fiery orange circuitry, their hate and despise of him was obvious. Aaron stooped down for his baton, refusing to take his eyes off the surrounding programs. All around him, they circled in waiting to pounce. Finally one such program did. From behind, a program with a baton swung it high like a club down on the user. Aaron spun and seized the program's wrist. Aaron kicked out the program's leg, pushing him away. From Aaron's left, another threw a punch. Aaron dodged the blow as a third program swarmed in with another punch. Aaron felt the blow to his left cheek and stumbled slightly. Another program took the opportunity and thrust its foot out to stomp on his face. Aaron swung his arm high and to the left to block the kick. From over the roars and shrieks of the attacking programs, Aaron heard a haunting sound that the Defenders nearly feared. The low rumble of a Recognizer zoomed closer in on his position. From in the dark, storm ravaged sky, three of the peculiar craft hovered over head. Emitting from the keystone of the craft were beams of blinding light. The three beams focused on Aaron, in the center of the brawl.
"All programs disperse!" ordered a gruff voice over a loudspeaker much like those Aaron had on his police cycle back in L.A. The surrounding programs did as commanded, leaving Aaron alone in the spotlight. From the legs of the Recognizers, glowing cables shot at Aaron with claws trying to grasp him. Aaron spun away from the first volley of traps, only to get tangled by the next. The cable latched onto his leg, like a hand. The Recognizer's thrusters ignited, pushing the craft higher into the sky. The cable retracted throwing Aaron off his feet, dangling from his leg over Tron City. Aaron struggled to try and pry the cable's grip with his hands. The longer it took him, the further from the levels of the city he was carried. Suddenly a small object flashed through the air. Aaron recognized the tiny glow of an ignited disc as it sliced through the cable. Suddenly. Aaron was in freefall. As he fell, the air blew through his cloak. Instinct kicked in as he thought quickly. He reached down to his boot and extracted his baton. He waited a split second to split the baton in half then allow his light cycle to materialize. He rested his body on the sleek cycle, allowing the gliding tires to absorb the impact. Aaron landed on a slanted roof with the front wheel in the air. The back wheel glided on the roof with ease before Aaron thrust his weight for a leap over the space between levels. Aaron landed again on both wheels, accelerating in an intense get away. The thrill of jumping from roof to roof was exhilaratingly exciting for the user; though he was far from safe.