Tron Legacy - It's Your Call - Initiate Sequence

by Jablonski, Carla

  Are you actually being chased by a computer? All because you didn’t want to play a game?

  Okay, you may be losing your mind, but you still have to get out of there. It’s as though you set off an earthquake! The floor buckles and cracks beneath your feet. A filing cabinet topples over, smashing onto the desk. The screen shatters, sending out flames and sparks.

  You cough as acid smoke fills the room. Your eyes tear, but you make it to the stairs. There are popping sounds behind you, like firecrackers going off. You glance over your shoulder.

  Oh, no! The desk is having mini-explosions! Suddenly there’s a crash and a BOOM!

  The ceiling collapses in front of you.

  You’re trapped. For good.

  THE END

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  Would these programs really play against Clu? If they survive, he’s bound to retaliate. You can’t trust them to be truly on your side.

  You set your sights on Clu. You alone have to take him out.

  You gun your engine and zip toward Clu, a wall of light trailing behind you. Still, the purple and green players are closing ranks. You accelerate and zigzag in front of them. They crash into your light wall and go sprawling onto the Grid.

  You hear Aqua shouting behind you, but you can’t let him distract you. Your entire focus is on Clu. You’re gaining on him.

  Your eyes widen. Instead of trying to get away, Clu spins his bike around and heads straight toward you. What is this, a game of chicken?

  You grip your handlebars hard. If you can make a sharp turn at just the right moment, he’ll run into your light wall. It will be game over for—

  CRASH!

  You slam into one of Clu’s Sentries. You were so intent on Clu that you stopped paying attention to the other players on the game grid!

  You fly over the front wheel of your bike and slam onto the ground. Your bike lands on top of you. The bike crackles with flashing energy as it shorts out. Your whole body trembles as energy from the Grid shoots up through you into the bike. It feels as if you’ve been struck by lightning—over and over again!

  The last sight you ever see is Clu looming over you with a huge grin on his face.

  THE END

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  Suddenly you find yourself floating toward the ceiling! Somehow gravity has been reversed!

  Your opponent is apparently not bothered by the lack of gravity. He races around while you’re still trying to figure out how to move upside down. In a swift, surprise move, he knocks you to the ground—er, ceiling.

  “Agghhh!” you scream as his disc slices into your arm, pinning you to the ground.

  The buzzer sounds again and once more gravity changes, slamming you face-first back onto the court surface. Your visor cracks and your head spins. But at least your opponent’s disc fell out, releasing you and ending the awful pain.

  You stand, feeling wobbly, and look around for your opponent.

  Wham! He leaps onto your back and smashes you to the ground again.

  But then a strange thing happens. The guy jumps off and backs away from you. The crowd starts to boo and shout. You whirl around and see your opponent pointing at something on the court floor.

  A drop of your blood.

  A voice crackles down from the ship above. “Identify yourself, program!”

  Should you tell them you aren’t actually a program? Or will that only lead to a worse fate?

  If you keep it to yourself, GO TO PAGE 114

  Or do you tell them who you are? do that ON PAGE 72.

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  You fling yourself out of his path, somersaulting under the disc that Clu hurls at you.

  He turns to gloat, then realizes you’re still alive. He’s so surprised, he smashes into an embankment. His own disc flies back toward him like a boomerang. As you watch, it slices into him and he derezzes.

  A hush falls over the crowd. You’ve never heard such silence. Thousands of eyes are fixed on you.

  You killed their leader. What are they going to do now?

  Then a huge cheer rises up, so loud it nearly knocks you off your feet. Clu may have been the ruler, but he had more enemies than followers.

  You’re their hero. Practically a god to them. Thousands of grateful programs rush out of the stands.

  Uh-oh.

  It quickly becomes a riot as everyone wants to thank you, touch you, carry you on their shoulders, pat you on the back, shake your hand, and express their gratitude.

  “Stop!” you cry, struggling to stay upright. “Wait—no!”

  In all the shouting and cheering, pushing and shoving, no one notices when you fall to the ground. Which means no one helps you up. Or avoids stepping on you. Crushing you. Trampling you…to death.

  THE END

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  You have to check out the arcade. If nothing else, you want to find out how a message got sent from the place. The whole ride over you keep reminding yourself that your father isn’t going to be there; that the page is not really a clue. It’s just some random blip.

  You arrive at Flynn’s arcade. The whole area is rundown, and the abandoned arcade blends right in, with its boarded windows, peeling posters, and darkened neon sign.

  The keys stick a little, but you manage to get inside. You haven’t been here for years. Clearly, neither has anyone else. You carefully step inside the dark and dusty room.

  Everything looks so much smaller…. The last time you were here you barely cleared the levers of the old-school pinball machines. Of course, you were seven years old at the time.

  There’s something spooky about the silence and the silhouettes of ghostly machines. Once your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you hurry to the circuit breakers. You flip a switch and the machines gurgle to life. Some old tune blasts from the jukebox in a corner, making you jump.

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  Let’s check out the games,” you tell Alex. “But we’re just going to watch. Not play. I bet you’re good at watching.”

  “I’m excellent at watching,” Alex agrees, his eyes brightening.

  You and Alex head into the huge stadium. You walk around until you find an entrance. Crowds stomp and cheer above your head, so you head up a nearby ramp.

  Alex rushes ahead of you, eager to see what game is being played. He comes to a sudden stop.

  “What’s wrong?” you ask, jogging to catch up to him.

  “I think we’re in the wrong place,” Alex says.

  You gaze around. Thousands of spectators stare back at you. You stand on a huge transparent platform that suddenly swings and latches onto another one nearby. A motorcycle zooms onto the field. Then another motorcycle zooms into place behind you.

  “I think you’re right,” you tell Alex. “We’re in the middle of the game!”

  Now both bikes gun their engines—and head straight toward you and Alex!

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  You think your odds are a lot better if you get out of here—fast! You throw yourself into the vehicle. The driver executes a 360-degree burnout and peels away.

  “Who are you?” you ask.

  “Hold on,” the masked driver replies.

  You notice movement behind you. You whip your head around and see two grid panels flip over. They transfer two black cycles onto your level of the game grid. One of them catches up to your vehicle. Your driver swerves and knocks the black cycle into an obstacle. The cycle derezzes.

  The driver flips a switch on the console and ejects a series of disc-shaped capsules. The capsules explode, knocking over the remaining black cycle and rider.

  You think he’s done for but watch in astonishment as he grabs a second baton off his thigh and forms a new Light Cycle beneath him. He’s instantly back in pursuit!

  Your driver mashes the throttle as you race toward the formidable boundary wall.

  “Watch out!” you shout.
/>
  Did this driver save you from Clu just to crash you into a wall?

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  You’ll be way too exposed on the bridge. You duck into a nearby stadium. Hopefully, the Sentries won’t look for you so close by. It will be like hiding in plain sight. You dash into what looks like a high-tech locker room. It seems safe. Nothing happening here. “You’re late!” a gruff voice hollers. “Don’t just stand there! Go resupply the winks!”

  Uh-oh.

  You whirl around and see a stocky little guy holding what looks like a supersize vacuum cleaner glaring at you from the doorway. “I have emergency cleanup to do,” he hollers. “Get the winks out there! Now!”

  He rushes away. His emergency may have just saved you. He didn’t even wait long enough to discover you’re not who he thinks you are. You slide down onto the floor and stretch out your legs. You could seriously use a nap.

  Then another person bursts into the room.

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  You peer across the game court. A lean, black-clad warrior steps onto the platform. His visor completely obscures his features, and his muscled body looks as if it was poured from metal. This dude was built for combat. He tosses his disc from one hand to the other almost casually.

  As much as you hate it, you’re going to have to fight him. To the death.

  You grip your disc and bend your knees, ready to move. Your eyes widen as you watch your opponent press the center of his disc. It pops into two, one for each hand!

  “Come on,” you complain. “Is that even legal?”

  He hurls the discs at you and you bound out of the way. The lethal weapons arc out, hit the enclosure walls, then spin back to your opponent.

  You fire your disc at his head, hoping his focus is split between his returning discs and yours. But he flips into the air, twists, then lands neatly on his feet, holding his discs and successfully dodging yours.

  The crowd goes wild.

  “Yeah, yeah, very slick,” you mutter.

  Your opponent races up the side walls and you do the same, not wanting him to gain an advantage. You fire your discs simultaneously. You narrowly miss each other and tumble back down onto the platform.

  You hear a loud buzzing and a deep rumble.

  Now what? you wonder.

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  He studies you for a moment. Then he breaks out into a huge grin. “There’s much to do.” He gesticulates wildly as he rattles off ideas: “You’ll need to change your attire. You’ll need a forged disc—not easy these days, by the way—and of course you’ll need transport across the Sea of Simulation.” He moves across the room, away from you.

  Movement outside the window catches your attention. Your eyes widen as you watch black-clad figures appear in the sky! They’re actually flying—with the help of propellerlike wings whirring on their backs.

  “Ahh, the Black Guard,” Zuse says. “So prompt.”

  You jump to your feet and glare at Zuse. “That light change in the club,” you realize. “It was a signal.”

  “So clever,” he says. “Much like your father.”

  “Playing all the angles,” you say with a snarl.

  He just shrugs. “The game has changed, Son of Flynn.”

  You race toward the exit, only to discover the stairs are no longer there.

  Do you try to find another way out?

  TURN TO PAGE 122.

  Or do you try holding Zuse hostage?

  TURN TO PAGE 35.

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  You can’t believe your eyes. Your father. Exactly as he was the day you last saw him. Exactly! He hasn’t aged one bit. How is that possible?

  “Sam,” your father says, studying you. “Look at you, man.” He grins and laughs. “How’d you get in here?”

  “I-I got your message and—”

  “So it’s just you?” your father asks.

  “Yeah…just me.” You can’t take your eyes off him. So many emotions and questions run through you. You feel as if you’re about to explode or have a meltdown.

  He seems to be having a similar reaction. “Wow. This is something, isn’t it?”

  “You look…the same,” you say.

  He smiles at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “A lot’s happened, Sam. More than you could ever imagine.” He tilts his head and addresses your game opponent. “Rinzler, the disc, please.”

  You stand there, puzzled, as your opponent, Rinzler, removes your disc from its sheath in your armor. He hands it to your dad, who turns away from you. What is he doing?

  “Interesting,” he murmurs. Then your dad turns back and tosses you back your disc. “Rinzler, Jarvis, go,” he orders. Your opponent and the dark, gaunt man take off immediately, leaving you alone with your dad.

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  You keep walking. She works for the games, which means she works for Clu. There’s no way she would help you.

  You don’t want her to know where you’re headed, so you walk past the entrance to the giant building. You’ll walk around the block and then try again once she’s gone.

  You round the corner—straight into a pair of Sentries.

  “Identify yourself, program,” one of them orders.

  “Uh…uh …”

  “Sounds faulty. Must be a disc problem,” the other sentries says. He steps forward and holds out his hand. “Disc.”

  You stare at him blankly. You know that your disc reveals who you are—the son of Kevin Flynn and Clu’s enemy. You don’t want to just hand it over to them. The announcement you heard said that programs without ID would be deleted. But then again, how can they delete you? You’re not a program. Maybe you don’t need to be afraid!

  “Sorry, buddy,” you say, crossing your arms. “My disc is my business. And I’m keeping it. Haven’t you heard of identity theft? You don’t just hand things over to strangers!”

  The Sentry is not amused.

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  The two of you stand staring at each other. You’ve thought about this moment for so long—almost your whole life—and yet it’s awkward and strange. You’re the first to break the silence. “You were trapped inside here,” you venture. “Is that what happened?”

  “That’s right,” he says.

  “And you’re in charge,” you say.

  He nods. “Two for two.”

  “So let’s get out of here!” you say eagerly.

  “Don’t think so,” he says. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”

  Your forehead crinkles with confusion. “But why not? What’s wrong? I’m your son!”

  He moves in closer, bringing his face just inches from yours. He plants his hands on your shoulders. His eyes glisten with malevolent delight. “You see, Sam, I’m not your father. But I am very, very happy to see you.”

  You gape after him as he strides out of the room.

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  You rush down the stairs, not even bothering to try and keep quiet. Blue smoke wafts around the room, but nothing looks damaged. You spot a curly head bent over the computer console. At the sound of your thundering footsteps, the curly head turns around.

  A kid with braces grins at you. “I got in!” he cheers. “I don’t know how I did it, but I did!” He turns and stares down at the screen. “But there’s nothing on the screen but a map of something called the Grid.” He tries pushing some buttons. “I can’t get it to do anything.”

  You rush over to the console. The kid is right. A digital version of the map your dad has hanging on the wall is now lit up on the screen. You’re about to try fiddling with the controls when you remember why you’re here.

  “Who are you?” you ask the kid. “And what are you doing in here? This place has been closed for years!”

  The kid shrinks in
to a chair. “Am I in trouble?”

  You study him, trying to keep a fierce expression on your face. But the kid looks so pathetic—as if he’s trying not to cry.

  “Nah,” you say, with a wave of your hand. “It’s cool.”

  The kid immediately perks up. “So, do you know anything about this computer?” he asks eagerly.

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  A few days later you ride your motorcycle onto the movie set to report for your first day of work. It’s crazy busy, with people barking into walkie-talkies, equipment being hauled, vans unloading, and actors milling around drinking coffee and bottled water.

  “Hi, Jax,” you say, catching sight of her familiar face.

  Jax glances at you, nods, then goes back to explaining a stunt to her crew. “Got it?” she asks. The three men and two women nod and head for a motorcycle and a stunt car parked nearby.

  You start to follow them.

  “Where are you going?” Jax asks.

  “Those are the vehicles for the stunts, right?” you say. “Just clue me in on my bit and I’m ready.”

  “You’re not in this stunt,” Jax says.

  “Oh,” you reply. “So you want me to prep for something else?”

  “I want you to get me a coffee refill. Black, six sugars.” She hands you her thermos.

  “But…But I thought…What?” you sputter.

  “Kid, no one starts with stunts. You work your way up, learn the ropes, get used to the set,” Jax explains. “Then you get a shot. Maybe. For now, you’re a gopher.”

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  You really should answer your phone,” Alan scolds. “What’s the point of technology if you don’t use any of it?”