Sat Mar 23, 2024 11:33 pm by globalturbo
TRONA
by TS Caladan
It was very late at night.
The door buzzer rang at the Bradley residence. When Alan got to a security screen, he viewed the visitor. Words from the person at the door were automatically printed out at the bottom of the view-screen.
"I feel alone" were chilling words heard over the sound system.
He barely recognized the girl. It was Cora (Quorra), but she didn't appear like Cora. She was disheveled. She was in trouble; Alan Bradley felt it in his bones. He immediately punched a switch that opened the door. "Cora, honey. Please come in," was stated over the sound system. Alan understood exactly what the emotions and late night call were about...
Cora was distraught over the death of Sam 5 days ago in a stupid, silly motorcycle accident that wasn't his fault. (She had only been in the real world for 9 months). Sam Flynn and Cora enjoyed nine months together with big marriage plans ahead of the golden couple. The girl was his perfect mate. She seemed to come out of nowhere and had swept the young president and CEO of ENCOM off his feet.
The funeral was yesterday.
They were extremely happy together. Alan had met them socially on a few occasions. Company parties, various activities. Cora seemed bright and a bit kooky, kooky in a good/funny way. Sam loved her. He confided in him, to a point. The girl was just the right thing for Sam in his reemergence as head of ENCOM, as well as in his own life. Everything was precisely on track...
Then the accident~
Alan rushed to the door. He was in casual attire.
Cora fell through the doorway and into his arms as if she was drunk or drugged.
She had no energy. Tears were in her eyes.
He brought her over to an expensive couch in a massive and luxurious living room.
"Are you all right, Cora?"
"I, ah, I don't think I'm all right...if, if, if I'm on your couch at 1 in the morning, Alan."
"Let me get you something to drink. I have coffee, still warm."
"No."
"Yes," Alan insisted.
"Okay. Coffee. Make it the blackest black, Okay? Like my...mood."
"Right." Alan disappeared, only for a half minute. He returned with a cup in each hand. He set the cups down and sat next to her.
Cora cried into a couch pillow. She wasn't taking it well. The girl repeated: "I feel alone."
"Have a sip."
She composed herself, wiped her face and eventually took a gulp of black coffee.
Alan watched her face closely.
Her eyes looked straight down. With an ominous tone, Cora declared: "I want to kill myself, Alan."
"No, you don't."
Her big, wet eyes looked directly into his eyes. She seriously relayed, "Yes. I do."
"Sam's ghost could be right there, on the other side of the couch. You think he'd want to hear you say that?"
"You know what I mean about being alone and losing a loved one, don't you, Alan?"
The words hit Bradley hard. "Yes. Yes, I do."
[His wife died five months ago].
He continued, "But Cora. You live on. I remember Sam saying how wonderful it was how you saw the world: how smart you were and also like an amazing child, thrilled about the life she lived, every day the Sun rose."
"My whole world is gone now, Alan."
"There's so much to live for..."
"It's your world, the real world..."
"What about it?" Bradley was unclear.
She bit her lip. Cora calmed herself. She put her hand on her chin and turned her head. She expressed, "I've decided: your world is utterly terrible, wicked and evil. And I thought mine was bad. How much did Sam tell you about me, Alan? Like...like, who I really am? Where I come from?"
"No, ah. I think he said he knew you in college? Caltech? Yes?"
"No," she assured him. "Okay. Do you have any idea I know all about your computer matrix program, the digital universe Kevin Flynn disappeared into for years. My home. Tron was your program. I knew Mr. Flynn, the Creator."
Alan did a small 'spit-take' with the coffee.
Cora gave a little smile.
"Nice to see you smile again," Alan said. "Huh? Really? Wait! You come from Space Paranoids?"
He made her laugh. "What? What's that? Ha."
Alan confessed: "It's the original program that started it all. You mean Flynn really lived in there all this time and Sam's story about going digital, meeting his father, also true?"
"Yes." Cora smiled. "Flynn and Clu annihilated one another. But if I know Clu, there are backup programs."
"Kevin's dead? Sam didn't tell me much. So you're a program that went the other way: materialized in the real world? Do you know who wrote you?"
"I'm glad I decided to visit. You sure cheered me up, Alan." She drank more of the coffee.
"I'm glad you did, too." He smiled. "Anytime."
She answered, "No one wrote me. Users were once hailed as gods. Now it's an obsolete concept. No more Users. Me and my kind are called 'isos,' we're completely unexpected/unprogrammed variables that appeared on the Grid. Flynn was shocked that we existed. 'Miracles' he called us. But later we were feared by Clu; hunted down by his 'cleaning programs' and exterminated as outlaws. De-rezzed. There's only a few of us left."
"Wow. Variables~ Who knew that would happen?" Alan Bradley was astounded and lost in thoughts and possibilities. He never, himself, journeyed into the computer matrix. His independent program TRON did. Maybe there was a way, in a sense, he could also go there...through Cora?
"Boy, do I have stories to tell you. Much of which Sam told me about the first Grid Matrix. You don't know about all the changes, the Dark Matrix..."
Alan asked, "Dark Matrix? Huh. Probably an end-result of the old MCP."
"That's the world I come from. Games were no more than punishment for rebels, radical programs, deemed as criminals. Games were actually killing methods, like your Roman gladiators, killed in games or fed to lions. Bright colors and perfection and beauty were gone. Fear replaced all things decent from the original program. Clu ruled everything ruthlessly, like a god, with help from his minions: Tesler, Page, Pavel. Say, you don't have more coffee, do you, Alan? Got a lot to tell you, ha, and a second wind. Oh. Unless I'm keeping you up?"
"Not at all, dear. You've given me much to think about. Wasn't going to sleep tonight, anyway...An iso..."
"Hey, look at that!" Cora/Quorra got up and walked over to the fireplace. On the mantle, among other photos, was a framed photo of her and Alan. It was from an ENCOM dinner-affair [that concerned the possibility of producing live dinosaurs from mosquitos encased in amber]. Sam took the picture. It was a still moment of very successful and happy times.
"I remember the dinner," Cora said. "He proposed to me that night..."
"Cora," Alan wanted her to look on the bright side.
She half smiled. "I'm fine, ha. Hey. Where's that coffee? You should hear about the life of an iso, er, how it was in the beginning, I should say. How fantastic my people were; millions strong. Then there was the Purge and only a few that remained. Hmm. We were beautiful. Ah."
Alan went to make more coffee. He said as he left the room: "I'll bet."
Alan and Cora reconvened at Flynn's, where the whole adventure had begun years ago. Alan had an extra set of keys. One set was given to Sam. Now. He used his set to help Sam's unusual lover, from the Grid. And also help himself.
Many revelations were revealed in the late night conversation and on the ride over to the old arcade.
Alan was highly motivated. Without sleep, he'd worked on and finished a (basically) simple program to enter the Grid, via Cora. She was key. He was convinced he could access the computer universe Flynn created. Possibly, Quorra, as TRON's agent and avatar, could affect 'big changes' to the Dark Matrix. Maybe there was hope for the 'lifeforms' in the Matrix, after all?
Alan Bradley was even more convinced that he was on the right track when the beautiful iso named Cora (in the physical world) told him the story of the first time she met Clu.
Somehow Clu knew! Was the Master Program psychic? Cora flashed back to when she was found by a Recognizer, captured by stormtroopers and brought before Clu. Clu knew she was an iso and, for some strange reason, did not de-rez her. She never forgot Clu's words to her, before she was released:
"You're different. Among your alien people, you remain an oddity: one with a fate, a destiny. You will leave our world, maybe return to your alien world? Ha. Ah. But you will also...return to our universe here..."
Alan heard her story and felt he was a major part of her fate. That evening, he stayed up all night and wrote a program that might have a happy ending for the matrix-world he helped create. Maybe a way to 'win,' reboot the System and rewrite everything in the Grid? Make a new System. The new program was embedded on an information disk. The program was called: 'TRONA.'
They were on the third floor at Flynn's, the room with 'the device.' Cora and Alan went directly to work, as if instinct took control of their actions. Fate. Lights were turned on and computer systems activated. They saw 'the chair,' the chair where the 'beaming' or 'molecular-digitalization' happened...
"I'm excited," Alan expressed.
Cora's big eyes were larger. She nodded. She'd know what to do, thanks to a User.
Earlier. The girl had a long talk with herself, high on a roof of the city. She did not tell Alan the full extent of the HATRED she had for the real, physical world. She didn't tell him how close she was to suicide, after the loss of Sam. The material world on Earth was a total disappointment to her, the more and more she learned of it. History. The wars, the violence of human beings against human beings, the cruelty and despicable lies she saw on television and on other Media. The hypocrisy. This wasn't the beautiful world she had imagined way back then...
When she saw the morning Sun rise for the first time from the back of Sam's motorcycle and hugged him. This was not the idyllic escape from the Dark Matrix. In many ways, the real world, the huge physical universe of reality, was even darker and deadlier than the digital world of her origin.
Quorra wasn't sure if she'd take Alan's offer, a means to go back. She never would have returned that first day of living and breathing in the incredible, real world. Today was not the first day. It was her 273rd day of Life and Sam was DEAD. She was alone. She decided: She'd do what she could for her people and their world. She would become Quorra again. Actually. She'd become TRONA.
Computer sounds were heard and the Device warmed and loaded up. Soon. They'd have access to the Dark Matrix as one 'living' entity.
"Please. Explain. Talk to me, Alan. I've already received most of the data on your disk..."
"Yeah. You're not supposed to be able to do that until we're in, but you do feel it already? Gives me hope this will work."
She suggested, "Like, because I'm a radical iso?"
"If my theory is correct: It makes you a User."
"A User?" Quorra was stunned. She sat in 'the chair.'
"You might be able to program from within the Matrix. Also. You now have a few fancy weapons at your disposal...and new and improved Shields."
"Interesting. I see the schematics now."
The Machine sounds were louder. It approached maximum resonance, which meant all systems were GO for the launch (beaming).
"I'm unclear, Alan. Will you be me, inside? Moving me? Who decides the actions and reactions of TRONA from moment to moment?"
"You! You're behind the wheel. I'll be with you in spirit. Rely on your feelings and instincts. Hey. They might be mine. You're the new TRON."
Quorra had a serious tone to her voice when she asked: "So. Alan. You, yourself, won't be digitized? You still won't be the program and walk and talk in the artificial world you helped create?"
He smiled and said, "Doesn't matter. I know I'll work through you. I'll be your muse. And..." Alan plugged in his laptop to one of the ports on the Device. The screen lit. "And, I'll be able to spy on you; see everything you're doing from the data disk. How 'bout that? I have a good feeling, Cor."
She smiled also. "For Sam."
Alan replied, "For Sam. And his father. We're going to clean up the mess we made. Ready? I can flip the switch...anytime?"
"Hold on! I don't know, specifically, what I need to know to win or CHANGE THE WORLD!"
"Oh. Ah. That's easy. Get to Clu and destroy him; fight him and win. You need a Tron-suit for that. Seek the Renegade; he'll give you his. Collect data disks, that will get you to Clu. You'll know the rest. That's about it, kid." Alan walked over to the girl and kissed her cheek.
She joked, "Oh. That's all? Ha. Seriously, Alan..."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"Ha. Sure, kid." He walked next to the Machine.
"Flip the switch, Alan," she commanded.
"Ah. Here we go"
When the digital-systems engaged, the powerful laser took (pixel) bits of Quorra, row by row, until she vanished from the chair! There were bright laser lights as well as loud electronic sounds. The girl was transferred over to and into the overall program called 'TRONA.'
Then the world changed~
She landed in the new Grid Matrix, alone, with Alan's programmed data disk on her back. The girl's transference was successful. There was only one thing that was very different in the virtual universe she once knew:
Her home was now considerably simpler, basic in appearance. Everything and everybody she remembered were all around her, but the world looked so bizarre.
"Wow. Incredible. I remember this place. But not like this. Ha. Fuck! Where am I going to find a Tron-suit?" she said to herself and asked her muse. "I see how it can get me to Clu, disguised as the new Tron. But I also need two more keys or data disks. I only have one."
Something will come along.
It was as if Alan communicated in her mind. It was not supposed to happen, but (like her) it did.
"Something will come along, huh?" TRONA said as she viewed the darkened panorama, a vast landscape of desolation with roads that stretched to the Great City beyond.
Suddenly. She heard a sound. The sounds got louder. Someone approached along one of the slick roads...
Light cycles! They appeared from behind a hill along a fairly thin expanse of road. They got closer and the sounds were louder.
She was near one stretch of pathway. She ran directly toward the road. In a minute of real time, the cycles would speed passed her.
BLAM! BLAM! BAAABAMM!!
They fired electric pulse weapons at the lead cyclist! Clu's men or 'robotoids' had sophisticated guns and nearly hit the cycle out in front.
TRONA had a better view. She saw the approach of a very fast light-cycle and behind it were 7 trooper cyclists in hot pursuit. Clu's cleanup patrol closed in and more brilliant shots were fired! BLAM! BLAM!
The lead cycle pulled an odd maneuver on the other bikes, a move she'd heard about, but never seen before...
A solid wall of energy spurt out the back of the lead cycle, vertically. It electrically solidified. Wherever the cycle moved, the long wall trailed behind.
The first Police cycles were not struck; they passed on one side of the formed barrier and a few more passed on the other side. That was because the lead cycle stayed on a straight course.
More shots were fired from all of the troopers: BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAAAAM! The photonic projectiles were more accurate. Very soon, the rebel out in front would be de-rezzed from a relatively short distance.
The lead bike curved and created a warped wall behind. The turns were more drastic, serpentine. Two of the Police cyclists smashed into the wall violently and were disintegrated. The other 5 turned and matched the curves of the wall. They sped up and took more shots: BLAM! BLAM!
One of the shots struck near the lead bike's front tire and a severe swerve was the result. It maintained control and wasn't toppled. But the inadvertent wall warp was unexpected; it took out (de-rezzed) two more cycles in the chase.
Three Police vehicles approached closer. They seemed to move as the wall moved, pretty well. One didn't and was destroyed in another violent crash.
The bikes were very close to TRONA on the side of the road. She used one of the new weapons Alan installed. She aimed an electronic bow of brilliant blue energy. The arrow hit its mark. Then the other Police cycle was taken out as well with the second arrow. But...
Not before it got off a final shot at the lead target. BLAM!
When the front bike passed her, she noticed it appeared more real: It was a throwback vehicle, much more substantial than the new simple/basic environment around her.
But TRONA blinked and saw where the final Police shot landed. It was a near perfect shot: the energy smashed into the side of the bike and struck the rider.
Lead bike skid on its side for more than 100 feet and threw its rider off.
The rider skid and tumbled for about half the distance the bike was tossed.
The old cycle was totaled.
He was damaged, but conscious and in one piece.
TRONA, without her bow, ran over to the man.
"Are you Okay?" she yelled.
"Been better," he answered.
When the girl got right over the prone man, she got a good look at what he wore: a TRON-suit! It was a greatly damaged TRON-suit, but it was exactly what she sought. It came to her.
He was dazed. He asked, "You're her? The one I'm supposed to meet and give the suit to?"
"I'm Alan's TRONA program. Yes!"
The handsome young man was suddenly upset. He agonized and asked, "Dear child, why? WHY?"
"What do you mean? Why what?" TRONA was the one confused and didn't understand his anger.
"Why did you shoot? I would have wiped them out in a few more seconds. You diverged the energy bolt and it struck me..."
"I DID? You seem fine."
"I am. But look. It ripped through the suit. Vital organs are severed in the electronics. It's no damn good!"
"Damn. Damn. Again. That's what being..."
"What?"
TRONA finished her statement: "That's what being a radical is, I guess. An unexpected variable. Like, like a, huh [emotional inhale)...a motorcycle accident." She didn't know what to do. Did she ruin everything? Tron-suits don't grow on interface portals, you know? "How were you directed to give me the suit? And what's your name?"
"You're a variable?" The young man wasn't actually upset at the girl. He was intrigued. He was cool. He thought she was beautiful. [Mara seemed too distant; this one seemed very real].
He answered her question: "User Alan, not TRON, the User! He programmed me somewhat or interfaced with me in a merged sort of way. I received the message. It's new to me too, dear."
"I know what you mean. What's your name?" she asked again.
"Beck. Beck. Have you heard about the Renegade, some believe is the return of TRON?"
"Yes. Yes, I have. You want help up?"
"Huh? Oh, sure."
They clasped hands and felt something between them: as if they shared data disks at the exact moment.
"Ah." She helped him to his feet. They affectionately smiled at each other.
"Well. I'm the Renegade in a TRON-suit. The TRON program has been destroyed as far as I know. He was my mentor, taught me what I know. But I think he's dead and gone. I've been...masquerading as the man, for quite awhile now."
"I see. I see all the Media buzz about the Renegade. Outside of the ruined suit, can you help me get to Clu?"
"So you can destroy him, iso?" Beck asked and cocked an eyebrow. He knew.
"Yes." TRONA declared, definitely. "And maybe rewrite the world in Alan's image? I trust Alan, TRON! Can you help me, Beck?"
"All is not lost, my dear..."
She sensed hope in those words. "What?"
"Here. Put this with yours." Beck removed his data disk and handed it to her. "On your back, you know how it's done. This is yours now."
Without thinking, she clipped the disk on her back with a snap. It was like they had merged minds. His memories were hers in a flash. "Oh. My. My. Ah. Don't you need it?" she asked.
Beck smiled and said, "Not anymore. Along with yours, it's the Second Key. You only need one more to get to Clu."
She asked, "Where's the third?"
Beck smiled. He knew she'd know in a second. "You tell me."
"Page! Page has it. It's her disk."
"Hey, kid! Don't get your hopes up. You still need a TRON-suit, only way to see Page, if she thinks you may be TRON, right?"
She rubbed her chin. "Right." She looked up into artificial space. "Huh."
"And TRON-suits don't grow on trees, eh?"
The girl was amazed and smiled, affectionately. "Beck. You know of trees?"
The guy walked over to his totaled light-cycle, a throwback with a trailing wall (later outlawed). It was dead. His TRON-suit was not repairable. He'd never pose as TRON again, warrior who fought for justice and the ways of old Users.
Beck looked out upon the long road opposite from the Great City. "You know, girl? You'll never know what you'll find if you just...go for it."
She responded, "I know what you mean, Space Cowboy." She laughed.
So did he. He rubbed his chin. He viewed ahead, again. "Oh well. Suppose I'll walk. If I steal another bike or pick one up at the garage, I might stop and look you up sometime, but don't get your hopes up, now. We can date."
"HA. Been real, big guy."
"Apartment 53. Ion District, right?"
"Ah. Yeah." How'd he know? Oh, it was on the disk.
"One last thing to remember, Miss Radical?"
"Oh. What's that?"
He walked on down the road a bit. He yelled back to her: "There are no accidents!"
They departed and left in different directions.
She was touched and marveled at the notion. She made it home and contemplated the idea the whole way, exactly what an iso would do.
The door to Apartment 53, Ion District, buzzed...
TRONA had a rush of feelings. It might be the Renegade! Did he actually look her up and want to go out on a date?
In a moment, the intuitive girl knew that this was not Beck. It was a freaky monster of a reflection of Beck. Lo and behold, the girl just realized the creature wore a TRON-suit. Well. Wasn't it her lucky day? A suit happened to come to her. She'd fight the Beast and take the suit, for sure.
TRONA was ready to fight; she had the perfect advantage. She was about to pull out a fancy weapon and throw up a new kind of Shield, when...
The monster said, in a strong British accent, "Stop right there! TRONA. I'm Cyrus, the first Renegade, you know? I represented TRON once. I have a business proposition for you, dear. Care to hear me out? No fisticuffs, eh?"
She broke from a stance of battle and relaxed. TRONA was cautious and said, "Come in. Sure. I'll hear you out, Renegade."
Cyrus took a few steps inside; it was all he needed. "To the point: I have something you want and you have something I want. Rather than any, ah, destruction...we, we can work together, dear. Mutual cooperation for the same ultimate goal."
She was strong and clear and said: "My ultimate goal is to defeat Clu and all his backups. That one act will collapse the Dark Matrix, completely and utterly..."
"Then what?" Cyrus asked her and took a step closer. "Who rules the world then? YOU? Beck? There is no TRON. Will it be the Age of Queen TRONA?"
Her hand went to her mouth. "I guess I hadn't thought about it, Cyrus."
"Who makes Law? Who sets the parameters? Who rules?"
"You want me to trust you? So it'll be YOU who'll rule the world? NO DEAL!"
She returned to the fighting stance. She removed her disk and electrified it into a weapon. The disk screeched with power. "You want my keys, don't you?"
"Of course I want your keys! That's the bargain! I give you the suit. You give me your data disks along with your upgraded weaponry. We fight together against Page and then Clu. Check your muse. Maybe it's fate we met, eh? What does Alan say?"
She knew. "Alan says not to trust you. You'll have the upgrades and de-rez me. I'll only have a mask. You will be highly rewarded because of your complete loyalty to Clu."
Cyrus was not going to convince the girl. He activated his disk into weapon-mode. Its deadly sounds were heard. "So be it."
They fought: violent arm thrashes and blocks, violent leg kicks and blocks. Each disk electrically grinded against each other as the battle seemed stalemated. The combatants appeared to have equal strength and skills.
"I have a few tricks up my sleeve as well, girl!" A yellow ray shot out of Cyrus' forehead at the speed of light.
TRONA's new Shield was automatically activated and formed a perfect sphere of energy around her that glowed. The upgrade was: She was even stronger behind the barrier and possessed very long energy-phalanges like brilliant blue swords at her side.
Cyrus was thrown off. He didn't think she could strike from behind the force-field.
She swung two 20-foot long energy swords with terrific speed. SHE CUT HIS HEAD OFF! The action left the T-suit intact. Thank TRON.
Now. It was onto Page and the third key...
TRONA was able to get to Clu's palace as TRON. Her program knew what to do. All she had to do was clutch Page's memory disk in her hand and the three keys will unlock the way to Clu's secret hideaway. His lair and Safety Room.
Page thought she knew. She didn't. She agreed to a meeting with the Renegade (TRON?) on the palace balcony. There would be no security forces involved. The intruder would know how many programs were in the immediate area. Everything was cleared.
TRON was supposed to surrender to Page. In return, there was the promise of Peace. Games would end. Tyranny would end. Suffering would end. TRON would be used as a 'world leader' and would guide the empire and its people into a new age, a brighter age for the future.
When TRON [TRONA] approached Page on the palace balcony...
Page was the first to speak. She stated with total clarity: "No one's heard from Clu in ages. He's quite mad, you see? All that power. He's locked away, in his own world. Certainly he has little concern for the Grid and anyone of us out here. I'm planning a coup. What do you think, TRON? Are you TRON? I know TRON's face. You can lead, my friend. Take control. Control the whole, damned universe! They'll follow TRON. Clu will have no power, whenever he finally decides to come out of his hole. But I have to be sure you're not some Renegade in a TRON-suit. You have to be the real deal, for my plan to work? Show your face, Renegade. Are you TRON?"
'TRON' was casual. She stepped closer to Page, slowly. She coolly said, "I'll show my face in a minute. Maybe I can convince you another way..."
"What?" Page was surprised. She expected a fight, not a real surrender or a deal made.
The one in the TRON-suit sidled right up to Page and scanned the horizon.
Page also scanned the big, wide view. "What other way?"
'TRON' said, "It was in Alphaville District, near the main power terminal. I saw you drinking the liquid electricity. You looked beautiful as you recharged. I crept up behind you and..."
"You kissed me! I never told anyone TRON kissed me. Then you left on your bike in a flash. Why'd you kiss me?"
TRON directed TRONA when she replied: "There must be a first time for everything."
Page smiled and was almost convinced. "I was very young then. It was my first kiss also. TRON. Let me see your face. I want to see if the years have been kind. "
The one in the suit placed her arm around Page's waist. Their sides touched. "Would you like me to kiss you again?" TRONA dropped the facial mask and another facial mask took its place. She appeared exactly as TRON, only a bit aged.
Page had a rush of thoughts, thoughts of power: her and TRON ruling the universe! And all traces of Clu thrown in prison. She said, softly, "Oh, yes, darling. I would."
Suddenly TRONA's arm around Page quickly raised up and grabbed her data disk off from her back. Page didn't expect the move. She screamed and passed out.
TRONA placed the disk with the others on her back and the Keys were united as one super Key. A portal to the secret capstone or Highest Tower in the palace was accessed.
TRONA as TRON marched through what appeared as a dungeon conduit of many plasticene steps, until it terminated on the highest balcony.
Clu stood there, almost in a catatonic state of mind.
TRON slowly and quietly walked up to mad King Clu.
She kept the mask. She let him believe she was TRON.
Truth was, from the start of Alan's new overall program, Clu believed the real and genuine TRON had returned and would never be destroyed. And will continue to return. As he had backup Clus, TRON had just as many and they would fight him throughout eternity. He retreated into his Safe Room at the top of the Tower. But now...
TRON was right behind him.
Clu came out of his fog. He was mostly lucid. He said, "I see you've found me. Only the real TRON can do that. Did you know I really cared about Flynn's Matrix project, your Grid?"
She said, in TRON's voice: "I did know that, old friend. You cared a lot. You were fantastic. I couldn't have done it without you, Clu."
"Call me: Flynn. It's like I am Flynn. I want you to give a message to Alan, whenever you see him? You can do that for me, eh, TRON?"
"Sure, Flynn. What do you want me to tell him?"
"Ah. Tell him...I'm very, very sorry..."
She was about to speak again. But in a moment, she saw...
Flynn or mad Clu pulled out his own disk from his back and powered it in weapon-mode. He de-rezzed himself!
TRONA was shocked.
Thousands of digital particles of Clu were scattered over the floor of the high balcony. All of the Clus were gone. It was an end of an era. There will certainly be a better tomorrow.
TRONA walked out of the palace. She faced no resistance like when she entered.
Stormtroopers, Recognizers, gladiator games and oppression from the empire upon helpless subjects would be things of the past. There would be a brighter and a much more colorful tomorrow.
It would take time for the masses of citizens to believe that the fascist state and its tyranny were over. Everything appeared pretty much the same.
In fact, TRONA, as the Renegade, attempted to convince her old (hidden, iso) pals that they were free.
They didn't believe her. It was hard to conceive that the long-standing totalitarian state was defeated, hard to conceive people were really free to craft the world however they saw fit, hard to grasp that everyone had power and not just a few in control.
But. TRONA suddenly surprised everyone when she dropped the Renegade's helmet and revealed who she was: It was Quorra! Her fellow isos jumped for joy! It was a marvelous and tremendous reunion of good friends.
Slowly the word spread. Thanks to TRON, thanks to Alan Bradley and Cora, it was a free and glorious virtual reality, like it was in the beginning.
Cora assumed the name she had in the real world. She made another big decision that was a very easy decision: She'd stay in the Matrix. She despised the physical world that much! She was able to program. She programmed all the good things from the material world. Only there were no variables or the terrible wickedness she perceived in the real universe. She played God or User and made an apparent real world, within a fake one, within a real one.
Cora created a perfect mate as a companion in her version of a perfect place to live. She set the parameters. Her rules.
Her young lover was part Sam, part Beck and part Alan. He asked her a question: "You mean, you're an iso?"
She smiled. She was finally happy.
In the real world, Alan turned off his laptop that was plugged into the Device, where he monitored Cora's actions. The screen went blank, but his program ran and ran and will forever run. He'd see to it. His money and influence made sure the VR TRONA program never terminated.
She didn't know: It wasn't the same world she returned to. If she did go back, Cora would never have defeated Clu or ever have changed a thing in the Dark Matrix.
Alan was pleased everything ended very well for Cora. Of course, it did. It was programmed to work out that way~
Comments are welcome. Write to Tray: dugx@sbcglobal.net
by TS Caladan
It was very late at night.
The door buzzer rang at the Bradley residence. When Alan got to a security screen, he viewed the visitor. Words from the person at the door were automatically printed out at the bottom of the view-screen.
"I feel alone" were chilling words heard over the sound system.
He barely recognized the girl. It was Cora (Quorra), but she didn't appear like Cora. She was disheveled. She was in trouble; Alan Bradley felt it in his bones. He immediately punched a switch that opened the door. "Cora, honey. Please come in," was stated over the sound system. Alan understood exactly what the emotions and late night call were about...
Cora was distraught over the death of Sam 5 days ago in a stupid, silly motorcycle accident that wasn't his fault. (She had only been in the real world for 9 months). Sam Flynn and Cora enjoyed nine months together with big marriage plans ahead of the golden couple. The girl was his perfect mate. She seemed to come out of nowhere and had swept the young president and CEO of ENCOM off his feet.
The funeral was yesterday.
They were extremely happy together. Alan had met them socially on a few occasions. Company parties, various activities. Cora seemed bright and a bit kooky, kooky in a good/funny way. Sam loved her. He confided in him, to a point. The girl was just the right thing for Sam in his reemergence as head of ENCOM, as well as in his own life. Everything was precisely on track...
Then the accident~
Alan rushed to the door. He was in casual attire.
Cora fell through the doorway and into his arms as if she was drunk or drugged.
She had no energy. Tears were in her eyes.
He brought her over to an expensive couch in a massive and luxurious living room.
"Are you all right, Cora?"
"I, ah, I don't think I'm all right...if, if, if I'm on your couch at 1 in the morning, Alan."
"Let me get you something to drink. I have coffee, still warm."
"No."
"Yes," Alan insisted.
"Okay. Coffee. Make it the blackest black, Okay? Like my...mood."
"Right." Alan disappeared, only for a half minute. He returned with a cup in each hand. He set the cups down and sat next to her.
Cora cried into a couch pillow. She wasn't taking it well. The girl repeated: "I feel alone."
"Have a sip."
She composed herself, wiped her face and eventually took a gulp of black coffee.
Alan watched her face closely.
Her eyes looked straight down. With an ominous tone, Cora declared: "I want to kill myself, Alan."
"No, you don't."
Her big, wet eyes looked directly into his eyes. She seriously relayed, "Yes. I do."
"Sam's ghost could be right there, on the other side of the couch. You think he'd want to hear you say that?"
"You know what I mean about being alone and losing a loved one, don't you, Alan?"
The words hit Bradley hard. "Yes. Yes, I do."
[His wife died five months ago].
He continued, "But Cora. You live on. I remember Sam saying how wonderful it was how you saw the world: how smart you were and also like an amazing child, thrilled about the life she lived, every day the Sun rose."
"My whole world is gone now, Alan."
"There's so much to live for..."
"It's your world, the real world..."
"What about it?" Bradley was unclear.
She bit her lip. Cora calmed herself. She put her hand on her chin and turned her head. She expressed, "I've decided: your world is utterly terrible, wicked and evil. And I thought mine was bad. How much did Sam tell you about me, Alan? Like...like, who I really am? Where I come from?"
"No, ah. I think he said he knew you in college? Caltech? Yes?"
"No," she assured him. "Okay. Do you have any idea I know all about your computer matrix program, the digital universe Kevin Flynn disappeared into for years. My home. Tron was your program. I knew Mr. Flynn, the Creator."
Alan did a small 'spit-take' with the coffee.
Cora gave a little smile.
"Nice to see you smile again," Alan said. "Huh? Really? Wait! You come from Space Paranoids?"
He made her laugh. "What? What's that? Ha."
Alan confessed: "It's the original program that started it all. You mean Flynn really lived in there all this time and Sam's story about going digital, meeting his father, also true?"
"Yes." Cora smiled. "Flynn and Clu annihilated one another. But if I know Clu, there are backup programs."
"Kevin's dead? Sam didn't tell me much. So you're a program that went the other way: materialized in the real world? Do you know who wrote you?"
"I'm glad I decided to visit. You sure cheered me up, Alan." She drank more of the coffee.
"I'm glad you did, too." He smiled. "Anytime."
She answered, "No one wrote me. Users were once hailed as gods. Now it's an obsolete concept. No more Users. Me and my kind are called 'isos,' we're completely unexpected/unprogrammed variables that appeared on the Grid. Flynn was shocked that we existed. 'Miracles' he called us. But later we were feared by Clu; hunted down by his 'cleaning programs' and exterminated as outlaws. De-rezzed. There's only a few of us left."
"Wow. Variables~ Who knew that would happen?" Alan Bradley was astounded and lost in thoughts and possibilities. He never, himself, journeyed into the computer matrix. His independent program TRON did. Maybe there was a way, in a sense, he could also go there...through Cora?
"Boy, do I have stories to tell you. Much of which Sam told me about the first Grid Matrix. You don't know about all the changes, the Dark Matrix..."
Alan asked, "Dark Matrix? Huh. Probably an end-result of the old MCP."
"That's the world I come from. Games were no more than punishment for rebels, radical programs, deemed as criminals. Games were actually killing methods, like your Roman gladiators, killed in games or fed to lions. Bright colors and perfection and beauty were gone. Fear replaced all things decent from the original program. Clu ruled everything ruthlessly, like a god, with help from his minions: Tesler, Page, Pavel. Say, you don't have more coffee, do you, Alan? Got a lot to tell you, ha, and a second wind. Oh. Unless I'm keeping you up?"
"Not at all, dear. You've given me much to think about. Wasn't going to sleep tonight, anyway...An iso..."
"Hey, look at that!" Cora/Quorra got up and walked over to the fireplace. On the mantle, among other photos, was a framed photo of her and Alan. It was from an ENCOM dinner-affair [that concerned the possibility of producing live dinosaurs from mosquitos encased in amber]. Sam took the picture. It was a still moment of very successful and happy times.
"I remember the dinner," Cora said. "He proposed to me that night..."
"Cora," Alan wanted her to look on the bright side.
She half smiled. "I'm fine, ha. Hey. Where's that coffee? You should hear about the life of an iso, er, how it was in the beginning, I should say. How fantastic my people were; millions strong. Then there was the Purge and only a few that remained. Hmm. We were beautiful. Ah."
Alan went to make more coffee. He said as he left the room: "I'll bet."
Alan and Cora reconvened at Flynn's, where the whole adventure had begun years ago. Alan had an extra set of keys. One set was given to Sam. Now. He used his set to help Sam's unusual lover, from the Grid. And also help himself.
Many revelations were revealed in the late night conversation and on the ride over to the old arcade.
Alan was highly motivated. Without sleep, he'd worked on and finished a (basically) simple program to enter the Grid, via Cora. She was key. He was convinced he could access the computer universe Flynn created. Possibly, Quorra, as TRON's agent and avatar, could affect 'big changes' to the Dark Matrix. Maybe there was hope for the 'lifeforms' in the Matrix, after all?
Alan Bradley was even more convinced that he was on the right track when the beautiful iso named Cora (in the physical world) told him the story of the first time she met Clu.
Somehow Clu knew! Was the Master Program psychic? Cora flashed back to when she was found by a Recognizer, captured by stormtroopers and brought before Clu. Clu knew she was an iso and, for some strange reason, did not de-rez her. She never forgot Clu's words to her, before she was released:
"You're different. Among your alien people, you remain an oddity: one with a fate, a destiny. You will leave our world, maybe return to your alien world? Ha. Ah. But you will also...return to our universe here..."
Alan heard her story and felt he was a major part of her fate. That evening, he stayed up all night and wrote a program that might have a happy ending for the matrix-world he helped create. Maybe a way to 'win,' reboot the System and rewrite everything in the Grid? Make a new System. The new program was embedded on an information disk. The program was called: 'TRONA.'
They were on the third floor at Flynn's, the room with 'the device.' Cora and Alan went directly to work, as if instinct took control of their actions. Fate. Lights were turned on and computer systems activated. They saw 'the chair,' the chair where the 'beaming' or 'molecular-digitalization' happened...
"I'm excited," Alan expressed.
Cora's big eyes were larger. She nodded. She'd know what to do, thanks to a User.
Earlier. The girl had a long talk with herself, high on a roof of the city. She did not tell Alan the full extent of the HATRED she had for the real, physical world. She didn't tell him how close she was to suicide, after the loss of Sam. The material world on Earth was a total disappointment to her, the more and more she learned of it. History. The wars, the violence of human beings against human beings, the cruelty and despicable lies she saw on television and on other Media. The hypocrisy. This wasn't the beautiful world she had imagined way back then...
When she saw the morning Sun rise for the first time from the back of Sam's motorcycle and hugged him. This was not the idyllic escape from the Dark Matrix. In many ways, the real world, the huge physical universe of reality, was even darker and deadlier than the digital world of her origin.
Quorra wasn't sure if she'd take Alan's offer, a means to go back. She never would have returned that first day of living and breathing in the incredible, real world. Today was not the first day. It was her 273rd day of Life and Sam was DEAD. She was alone. She decided: She'd do what she could for her people and their world. She would become Quorra again. Actually. She'd become TRONA.
Computer sounds were heard and the Device warmed and loaded up. Soon. They'd have access to the Dark Matrix as one 'living' entity.
"Please. Explain. Talk to me, Alan. I've already received most of the data on your disk..."
"Yeah. You're not supposed to be able to do that until we're in, but you do feel it already? Gives me hope this will work."
She suggested, "Like, because I'm a radical iso?"
"If my theory is correct: It makes you a User."
"A User?" Quorra was stunned. She sat in 'the chair.'
"You might be able to program from within the Matrix. Also. You now have a few fancy weapons at your disposal...and new and improved Shields."
"Interesting. I see the schematics now."
The Machine sounds were louder. It approached maximum resonance, which meant all systems were GO for the launch (beaming).
"I'm unclear, Alan. Will you be me, inside? Moving me? Who decides the actions and reactions of TRONA from moment to moment?"
"You! You're behind the wheel. I'll be with you in spirit. Rely on your feelings and instincts. Hey. They might be mine. You're the new TRON."
Quorra had a serious tone to her voice when she asked: "So. Alan. You, yourself, won't be digitized? You still won't be the program and walk and talk in the artificial world you helped create?"
He smiled and said, "Doesn't matter. I know I'll work through you. I'll be your muse. And..." Alan plugged in his laptop to one of the ports on the Device. The screen lit. "And, I'll be able to spy on you; see everything you're doing from the data disk. How 'bout that? I have a good feeling, Cor."
She smiled also. "For Sam."
Alan replied, "For Sam. And his father. We're going to clean up the mess we made. Ready? I can flip the switch...anytime?"
"Hold on! I don't know, specifically, what I need to know to win or CHANGE THE WORLD!"
"Oh. Ah. That's easy. Get to Clu and destroy him; fight him and win. You need a Tron-suit for that. Seek the Renegade; he'll give you his. Collect data disks, that will get you to Clu. You'll know the rest. That's about it, kid." Alan walked over to the girl and kissed her cheek.
She joked, "Oh. That's all? Ha. Seriously, Alan..."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"Ha. Sure, kid." He walked next to the Machine.
"Flip the switch, Alan," she commanded.
"Ah. Here we go"
When the digital-systems engaged, the powerful laser took (pixel) bits of Quorra, row by row, until she vanished from the chair! There were bright laser lights as well as loud electronic sounds. The girl was transferred over to and into the overall program called 'TRONA.'
Then the world changed~
She landed in the new Grid Matrix, alone, with Alan's programmed data disk on her back. The girl's transference was successful. There was only one thing that was very different in the virtual universe she once knew:
Her home was now considerably simpler, basic in appearance. Everything and everybody she remembered were all around her, but the world looked so bizarre.
"Wow. Incredible. I remember this place. But not like this. Ha. Fuck! Where am I going to find a Tron-suit?" she said to herself and asked her muse. "I see how it can get me to Clu, disguised as the new Tron. But I also need two more keys or data disks. I only have one."
Something will come along.
It was as if Alan communicated in her mind. It was not supposed to happen, but (like her) it did.
"Something will come along, huh?" TRONA said as she viewed the darkened panorama, a vast landscape of desolation with roads that stretched to the Great City beyond.
Suddenly. She heard a sound. The sounds got louder. Someone approached along one of the slick roads...
Light cycles! They appeared from behind a hill along a fairly thin expanse of road. They got closer and the sounds were louder.
She was near one stretch of pathway. She ran directly toward the road. In a minute of real time, the cycles would speed passed her.
BLAM! BLAM! BAAABAMM!!
They fired electric pulse weapons at the lead cyclist! Clu's men or 'robotoids' had sophisticated guns and nearly hit the cycle out in front.
TRONA had a better view. She saw the approach of a very fast light-cycle and behind it were 7 trooper cyclists in hot pursuit. Clu's cleanup patrol closed in and more brilliant shots were fired! BLAM! BLAM!
The lead cycle pulled an odd maneuver on the other bikes, a move she'd heard about, but never seen before...
A solid wall of energy spurt out the back of the lead cycle, vertically. It electrically solidified. Wherever the cycle moved, the long wall trailed behind.
The first Police cycles were not struck; they passed on one side of the formed barrier and a few more passed on the other side. That was because the lead cycle stayed on a straight course.
More shots were fired from all of the troopers: BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAAAAM! The photonic projectiles were more accurate. Very soon, the rebel out in front would be de-rezzed from a relatively short distance.
The lead bike curved and created a warped wall behind. The turns were more drastic, serpentine. Two of the Police cyclists smashed into the wall violently and were disintegrated. The other 5 turned and matched the curves of the wall. They sped up and took more shots: BLAM! BLAM!
One of the shots struck near the lead bike's front tire and a severe swerve was the result. It maintained control and wasn't toppled. But the inadvertent wall warp was unexpected; it took out (de-rezzed) two more cycles in the chase.
Three Police vehicles approached closer. They seemed to move as the wall moved, pretty well. One didn't and was destroyed in another violent crash.
The bikes were very close to TRONA on the side of the road. She used one of the new weapons Alan installed. She aimed an electronic bow of brilliant blue energy. The arrow hit its mark. Then the other Police cycle was taken out as well with the second arrow. But...
Not before it got off a final shot at the lead target. BLAM!
When the front bike passed her, she noticed it appeared more real: It was a throwback vehicle, much more substantial than the new simple/basic environment around her.
But TRONA blinked and saw where the final Police shot landed. It was a near perfect shot: the energy smashed into the side of the bike and struck the rider.
Lead bike skid on its side for more than 100 feet and threw its rider off.
The rider skid and tumbled for about half the distance the bike was tossed.
The old cycle was totaled.
He was damaged, but conscious and in one piece.
TRONA, without her bow, ran over to the man.
"Are you Okay?" she yelled.
"Been better," he answered.
When the girl got right over the prone man, she got a good look at what he wore: a TRON-suit! It was a greatly damaged TRON-suit, but it was exactly what she sought. It came to her.
He was dazed. He asked, "You're her? The one I'm supposed to meet and give the suit to?"
"I'm Alan's TRONA program. Yes!"
The handsome young man was suddenly upset. He agonized and asked, "Dear child, why? WHY?"
"What do you mean? Why what?" TRONA was the one confused and didn't understand his anger.
"Why did you shoot? I would have wiped them out in a few more seconds. You diverged the energy bolt and it struck me..."
"I DID? You seem fine."
"I am. But look. It ripped through the suit. Vital organs are severed in the electronics. It's no damn good!"
"Damn. Damn. Again. That's what being..."
"What?"
TRONA finished her statement: "That's what being a radical is, I guess. An unexpected variable. Like, like a, huh [emotional inhale)...a motorcycle accident." She didn't know what to do. Did she ruin everything? Tron-suits don't grow on interface portals, you know? "How were you directed to give me the suit? And what's your name?"
"You're a variable?" The young man wasn't actually upset at the girl. He was intrigued. He was cool. He thought she was beautiful. [Mara seemed too distant; this one seemed very real].
He answered her question: "User Alan, not TRON, the User! He programmed me somewhat or interfaced with me in a merged sort of way. I received the message. It's new to me too, dear."
"I know what you mean. What's your name?" she asked again.
"Beck. Beck. Have you heard about the Renegade, some believe is the return of TRON?"
"Yes. Yes, I have. You want help up?"
"Huh? Oh, sure."
They clasped hands and felt something between them: as if they shared data disks at the exact moment.
"Ah." She helped him to his feet. They affectionately smiled at each other.
"Well. I'm the Renegade in a TRON-suit. The TRON program has been destroyed as far as I know. He was my mentor, taught me what I know. But I think he's dead and gone. I've been...masquerading as the man, for quite awhile now."
"I see. I see all the Media buzz about the Renegade. Outside of the ruined suit, can you help me get to Clu?"
"So you can destroy him, iso?" Beck asked and cocked an eyebrow. He knew.
"Yes." TRONA declared, definitely. "And maybe rewrite the world in Alan's image? I trust Alan, TRON! Can you help me, Beck?"
"All is not lost, my dear..."
She sensed hope in those words. "What?"
"Here. Put this with yours." Beck removed his data disk and handed it to her. "On your back, you know how it's done. This is yours now."
Without thinking, she clipped the disk on her back with a snap. It was like they had merged minds. His memories were hers in a flash. "Oh. My. My. Ah. Don't you need it?" she asked.
Beck smiled and said, "Not anymore. Along with yours, it's the Second Key. You only need one more to get to Clu."
She asked, "Where's the third?"
Beck smiled. He knew she'd know in a second. "You tell me."
"Page! Page has it. It's her disk."
"Hey, kid! Don't get your hopes up. You still need a TRON-suit, only way to see Page, if she thinks you may be TRON, right?"
She rubbed her chin. "Right." She looked up into artificial space. "Huh."
"And TRON-suits don't grow on trees, eh?"
The girl was amazed and smiled, affectionately. "Beck. You know of trees?"
The guy walked over to his totaled light-cycle, a throwback with a trailing wall (later outlawed). It was dead. His TRON-suit was not repairable. He'd never pose as TRON again, warrior who fought for justice and the ways of old Users.
Beck looked out upon the long road opposite from the Great City. "You know, girl? You'll never know what you'll find if you just...go for it."
She responded, "I know what you mean, Space Cowboy." She laughed.
So did he. He rubbed his chin. He viewed ahead, again. "Oh well. Suppose I'll walk. If I steal another bike or pick one up at the garage, I might stop and look you up sometime, but don't get your hopes up, now. We can date."
"HA. Been real, big guy."
"Apartment 53. Ion District, right?"
"Ah. Yeah." How'd he know? Oh, it was on the disk.
"One last thing to remember, Miss Radical?"
"Oh. What's that?"
He walked on down the road a bit. He yelled back to her: "There are no accidents!"
They departed and left in different directions.
She was touched and marveled at the notion. She made it home and contemplated the idea the whole way, exactly what an iso would do.
The door to Apartment 53, Ion District, buzzed...
TRONA had a rush of feelings. It might be the Renegade! Did he actually look her up and want to go out on a date?
In a moment, the intuitive girl knew that this was not Beck. It was a freaky monster of a reflection of Beck. Lo and behold, the girl just realized the creature wore a TRON-suit. Well. Wasn't it her lucky day? A suit happened to come to her. She'd fight the Beast and take the suit, for sure.
TRONA was ready to fight; she had the perfect advantage. She was about to pull out a fancy weapon and throw up a new kind of Shield, when...
The monster said, in a strong British accent, "Stop right there! TRONA. I'm Cyrus, the first Renegade, you know? I represented TRON once. I have a business proposition for you, dear. Care to hear me out? No fisticuffs, eh?"
She broke from a stance of battle and relaxed. TRONA was cautious and said, "Come in. Sure. I'll hear you out, Renegade."
Cyrus took a few steps inside; it was all he needed. "To the point: I have something you want and you have something I want. Rather than any, ah, destruction...we, we can work together, dear. Mutual cooperation for the same ultimate goal."
She was strong and clear and said: "My ultimate goal is to defeat Clu and all his backups. That one act will collapse the Dark Matrix, completely and utterly..."
"Then what?" Cyrus asked her and took a step closer. "Who rules the world then? YOU? Beck? There is no TRON. Will it be the Age of Queen TRONA?"
Her hand went to her mouth. "I guess I hadn't thought about it, Cyrus."
"Who makes Law? Who sets the parameters? Who rules?"
"You want me to trust you? So it'll be YOU who'll rule the world? NO DEAL!"
She returned to the fighting stance. She removed her disk and electrified it into a weapon. The disk screeched with power. "You want my keys, don't you?"
"Of course I want your keys! That's the bargain! I give you the suit. You give me your data disks along with your upgraded weaponry. We fight together against Page and then Clu. Check your muse. Maybe it's fate we met, eh? What does Alan say?"
She knew. "Alan says not to trust you. You'll have the upgrades and de-rez me. I'll only have a mask. You will be highly rewarded because of your complete loyalty to Clu."
Cyrus was not going to convince the girl. He activated his disk into weapon-mode. Its deadly sounds were heard. "So be it."
They fought: violent arm thrashes and blocks, violent leg kicks and blocks. Each disk electrically grinded against each other as the battle seemed stalemated. The combatants appeared to have equal strength and skills.
"I have a few tricks up my sleeve as well, girl!" A yellow ray shot out of Cyrus' forehead at the speed of light.
TRONA's new Shield was automatically activated and formed a perfect sphere of energy around her that glowed. The upgrade was: She was even stronger behind the barrier and possessed very long energy-phalanges like brilliant blue swords at her side.
Cyrus was thrown off. He didn't think she could strike from behind the force-field.
She swung two 20-foot long energy swords with terrific speed. SHE CUT HIS HEAD OFF! The action left the T-suit intact. Thank TRON.
Now. It was onto Page and the third key...
TRONA was able to get to Clu's palace as TRON. Her program knew what to do. All she had to do was clutch Page's memory disk in her hand and the three keys will unlock the way to Clu's secret hideaway. His lair and Safety Room.
Page thought she knew. She didn't. She agreed to a meeting with the Renegade (TRON?) on the palace balcony. There would be no security forces involved. The intruder would know how many programs were in the immediate area. Everything was cleared.
TRON was supposed to surrender to Page. In return, there was the promise of Peace. Games would end. Tyranny would end. Suffering would end. TRON would be used as a 'world leader' and would guide the empire and its people into a new age, a brighter age for the future.
When TRON [TRONA] approached Page on the palace balcony...
Page was the first to speak. She stated with total clarity: "No one's heard from Clu in ages. He's quite mad, you see? All that power. He's locked away, in his own world. Certainly he has little concern for the Grid and anyone of us out here. I'm planning a coup. What do you think, TRON? Are you TRON? I know TRON's face. You can lead, my friend. Take control. Control the whole, damned universe! They'll follow TRON. Clu will have no power, whenever he finally decides to come out of his hole. But I have to be sure you're not some Renegade in a TRON-suit. You have to be the real deal, for my plan to work? Show your face, Renegade. Are you TRON?"
'TRON' was casual. She stepped closer to Page, slowly. She coolly said, "I'll show my face in a minute. Maybe I can convince you another way..."
"What?" Page was surprised. She expected a fight, not a real surrender or a deal made.
The one in the TRON-suit sidled right up to Page and scanned the horizon.
Page also scanned the big, wide view. "What other way?"
'TRON' said, "It was in Alphaville District, near the main power terminal. I saw you drinking the liquid electricity. You looked beautiful as you recharged. I crept up behind you and..."
"You kissed me! I never told anyone TRON kissed me. Then you left on your bike in a flash. Why'd you kiss me?"
TRON directed TRONA when she replied: "There must be a first time for everything."
Page smiled and was almost convinced. "I was very young then. It was my first kiss also. TRON. Let me see your face. I want to see if the years have been kind. "
The one in the suit placed her arm around Page's waist. Their sides touched. "Would you like me to kiss you again?" TRONA dropped the facial mask and another facial mask took its place. She appeared exactly as TRON, only a bit aged.
Page had a rush of thoughts, thoughts of power: her and TRON ruling the universe! And all traces of Clu thrown in prison. She said, softly, "Oh, yes, darling. I would."
Suddenly TRONA's arm around Page quickly raised up and grabbed her data disk off from her back. Page didn't expect the move. She screamed and passed out.
TRONA placed the disk with the others on her back and the Keys were united as one super Key. A portal to the secret capstone or Highest Tower in the palace was accessed.
TRONA as TRON marched through what appeared as a dungeon conduit of many plasticene steps, until it terminated on the highest balcony.
Clu stood there, almost in a catatonic state of mind.
TRON slowly and quietly walked up to mad King Clu.
She kept the mask. She let him believe she was TRON.
Truth was, from the start of Alan's new overall program, Clu believed the real and genuine TRON had returned and would never be destroyed. And will continue to return. As he had backup Clus, TRON had just as many and they would fight him throughout eternity. He retreated into his Safe Room at the top of the Tower. But now...
TRON was right behind him.
Clu came out of his fog. He was mostly lucid. He said, "I see you've found me. Only the real TRON can do that. Did you know I really cared about Flynn's Matrix project, your Grid?"
She said, in TRON's voice: "I did know that, old friend. You cared a lot. You were fantastic. I couldn't have done it without you, Clu."
"Call me: Flynn. It's like I am Flynn. I want you to give a message to Alan, whenever you see him? You can do that for me, eh, TRON?"
"Sure, Flynn. What do you want me to tell him?"
"Ah. Tell him...I'm very, very sorry..."
She was about to speak again. But in a moment, she saw...
Flynn or mad Clu pulled out his own disk from his back and powered it in weapon-mode. He de-rezzed himself!
TRONA was shocked.
Thousands of digital particles of Clu were scattered over the floor of the high balcony. All of the Clus were gone. It was an end of an era. There will certainly be a better tomorrow.
TRONA walked out of the palace. She faced no resistance like when she entered.
Stormtroopers, Recognizers, gladiator games and oppression from the empire upon helpless subjects would be things of the past. There would be a brighter and a much more colorful tomorrow.
It would take time for the masses of citizens to believe that the fascist state and its tyranny were over. Everything appeared pretty much the same.
In fact, TRONA, as the Renegade, attempted to convince her old (hidden, iso) pals that they were free.
They didn't believe her. It was hard to conceive that the long-standing totalitarian state was defeated, hard to conceive people were really free to craft the world however they saw fit, hard to grasp that everyone had power and not just a few in control.
But. TRONA suddenly surprised everyone when she dropped the Renegade's helmet and revealed who she was: It was Quorra! Her fellow isos jumped for joy! It was a marvelous and tremendous reunion of good friends.
Slowly the word spread. Thanks to TRON, thanks to Alan Bradley and Cora, it was a free and glorious virtual reality, like it was in the beginning.
Cora assumed the name she had in the real world. She made another big decision that was a very easy decision: She'd stay in the Matrix. She despised the physical world that much! She was able to program. She programmed all the good things from the material world. Only there were no variables or the terrible wickedness she perceived in the real universe. She played God or User and made an apparent real world, within a fake one, within a real one.
Cora created a perfect mate as a companion in her version of a perfect place to live. She set the parameters. Her rules.
Her young lover was part Sam, part Beck and part Alan. He asked her a question: "You mean, you're an iso?"
She smiled. She was finally happy.
In the real world, Alan turned off his laptop that was plugged into the Device, where he monitored Cora's actions. The screen went blank, but his program ran and ran and will forever run. He'd see to it. His money and influence made sure the VR TRONA program never terminated.
She didn't know: It wasn't the same world she returned to. If she did go back, Cora would never have defeated Clu or ever have changed a thing in the Dark Matrix.
Alan was pleased everything ended very well for Cora. Of course, it did. It was programmed to work out that way~
Comments are welcome. Write to Tray: dugx@sbcglobal.net
