“What’s so important?” you ask. You limp over to the fridge and grab a soda. Man, you could really use a long soak in a hot tub. Every muscle is screaming after the long session on your bike.
“The board of directors has forced you out, and a new owner has come in,” Alan informs you. “Encom—the company your father built—is gone.”
You shrug. You’ve had no interest in Encom from day one. You can earn your own way. That company just represents everything you despise—corporate greed, soulless guys in suits. And—oh, yeah—where your dad spent all his time. When he could have spent it with you.
“I’ll be fine,” you tell him. “I’ve got some irons in the fire.” With your riding skills, you figure your motorcycle buddies can help you find some kind of gig.
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“Is she going to be okay?” you ask, gazing down at Quorra.
“I don’t know,” your father admits, hovering over her. “I have to identify the damaged code. It’s very complex.”
“She risked her life for me,” you say.
“Some things are worth the risk,” your father says. He pats your shoulder.
He stands up and adds cryptically, “Time to knock on the sky and listen to the sound.” He walks away and settles down in a quiet spot.
Quorra’s eyes flutter open. She sits up and looks around, disoriented.
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Bartik drags you out of the club to a dilapidated shack nearby. You try to explain who you are, but he doesn’t believe you. He thinks you’re using what you overheard as leverage. The questions go on and on and they just confuse you. This place is so crazy!
Then one day, a long time in the future, Bartik disappears! Right in front of your eyes. And in his place is Alex—all grown up!
“Sorry I took so long,” Alex says. “It took a while to crack the codes.” He smiles. “Time to go home.”
Those are the best words you’ve heard in centuries.
THE END
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You don’t want to risk bailing without any idea of what’s happening. You still have to get to the Portal. So you hurry along the huge containers, searching for a good place to hide. All of a sudden, the containers flicker to life, startling you.
Your eyes widen in shock. The lights in the translucent containers illuminate the cargo inside. And what strange cargo! Hundreds of people—programs, you remind yourself—are packed in together, tight as sardines.
“What is all this?” Quorra asks.
“Clu can’t create programs. He can only destroy or repurpose them,” your father finally answers, puzzling it out.
“Repurpose them for what?” you ask.
You sidle forward past the last of the containers and toward the edge of the ship. You look out beyond the cargo area to see the docking bay.
Cargo ships are being loaded onto what looks like an enormous aircraft carrier. The Rectifier, you realize. Tanks and other military vehicles are being fueled. You see thousands of troops gathered in formation.
“Clu is building an army!” You gasp. “That’s what all these programs are for!”
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Just when it looks as if you’re going to crash, your mysterious driver flips another switch on the console, firing two light missiles that rip a massive hole in the wall. Man, you think, this vehicle comes equipped with serious firepower. The vehicle blasts through the opening. As it does, knobs grow out of the tires, turning it into an off-road vehicle.
“Made it,” the driver declares with quiet triumph.
Your breath starts to return to normal. The driver turns to you as her helmet retracts on its own, revealing…a raven—haired beauty.
“I’m Quorra,” she says.
“Uh…uh, thanks, Quorra.” You glance in the rearview mirror and notice that the remaining driver has given up his pursuit.
“He’s turning around,” you say. You frown. “He’s just giving up?”
“Not by choice,” Quorra explains. “They can’t go off-Grid. They’ll lose power.”
“What about us?” you ask.
Quorra smirks. “Obviously not.”
“Where are you taking me?” you ask.
She guns the engine. “Patience, Sam Flynn,” she says. “All your questions will soon be answered.”
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You didn’t mean to make the kid cry. He’s about eight years old and small for his age. You figure if he’s hanging around abandoned arcades he probably doesn’t have too many friends. Now you feel like a big bully.
“Hey,” you say, trying to think of a way to at least get him up off the ground. “You did an awesome thing. I mean, you got us transported…into the computer, no less!”
It seems to work. “I did, didn’t I!” Alex pops up again and pumps his fist in the air. “I totally rule!”
Man, this kid has serious mood swings. Were you like this when you were his age? Maybe he’s been having too much sugar….
“Time to explore!” he says, tugging your hand. “I have to be home before dark, so we have to get moving!”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, shaking him off. “It was already dark when I found you at the arcade.”
“Oh, right.” He breaks out into a big grin. “So I’m already in trouble! I can stay here as long as I want!”
His words remind you of something. You’re not completely sure how you got here. So, how are you going to get back home?
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A sudden lurch bangs you into the half-faced man. You recoil and regain your balance. The Recognizer has docked.
“Where are we?” you ask the young guy.
“The gaming complex,” the kid replies. The nervous dude beside him amps up his muttering.
A ramp descends, and Sentries escort everyone in the hold onto the landing platform outside a gleaming superstructure. There are more Sentries waiting here, watching you all expectantly.
Your group is lined up roughly and a Sentry strolls in front of you. He nods at the kid. “Rectifier.” He moves down the line. “Games,” he announces in front of the muttering dude.
“Noooo,” the nervous dude moans. He suddenly makes a break for it. As Sentries close in he reaches an air shaft. Without even breaking stride, he leaps into the pit. You hear his scream all the way down.
Your group is rattled, but no one says a word. The Sentries just go back to their assessment. They stop in front of you.
“Look, I know you probably get this a lot,” you say, “but there’s been a mistake.”
The Sentry looks you up and down, then announces, “Games.”
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We need to strike now,” Bartik insists. “Zuse can unite the factions.”
“Of course Zuse can do these things.” Castor waves his hand dismissively. “But does he want to? We shall see….”
You hear no more because at that moment Gem strides to Castor’s booth. She whispers into his ear. His eyes fix on you.
“Excuse me,” Castor tells Bartik. “I have to attend to something.” He slides out of the booth and approaches you.
“Come!” he declares, a huge grin on his face. “Away from these primitive functions.” He slides his arm over your shoulder, and slips his other arm around Gem. He escorts you through the club.
“The Son of Flynn,” he says softly. “Of all the possibilities…and he walks into mine.”
He snakes you through the dance floor and releases you. “Castor,” he says, extending his hand. “Your host. Provider of any and all entertainments.”
“I’m looking for Zuse,” you say, not bothering to shake the guy’s hand. There’s something oily about him.
“This, good sir, is a conversation best had behind c
losed doors.” He once again wraps an arm around your shoulder and drags you away.
“Change the lights,” Castor orders his DJ. Instantly, the lights shift, the colors becoming even more brilliant. The rays radiate across the sky.
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You leap at Zuse and knock his cane out of his hands. The momentum makes him stumble, which gives you a chance to get behind him and wrap your arm around his throat.
The Black Guard crash through the skylight.
“Back off,” you snarl, “or I’ll happily derezz him right now.”
You hope they care.
They may not, but Zuse certainly does. “False alarm!” he cries. “Terrible mistake. So sorry to have troubled you!”
They stop moving closer. But you don’t know if that will last.
“Activate the stairway,” you hiss into Zuse’s ear. You tighten your hold for emphasis.
You drag Zuse down into the pulsating club, never releasing your grip no matter how much he squirms.
How will you get this guy to help you reach the Portal?
Well, no point standing here trying to come up with a plan.
You’ve got to get out of there—pronto!
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Focus, Sam, you tell yourself. You have to learn the rules of this game and fast! A commotion on an adjacent platform distracts you. There are players battling all around you on the multiple platforms. Crazy!
A bearded man on a nearby platform throws a disc at another player. It’s a hit! The struck player’s body shatters into thousands of tiny cubes that scatter across the court like shards of glass.
You should have known! They’re not people! They’re computer programs. And to die here is to pixilate—lose resolution. They derezz!
In this game, if you lose, you die. It’s that simple.
You struggle to remove the disc from the sheath in your armor. Your combatant flings his disc again. It looks wildly off track—phew! But, no! It strikes a rear embankment and caroms wickedly back toward you! You drop and somersault out of its path.
Is there any hope of surviving this battle?
If you try to stop the action by explaining you’re not a program, TURN TO PAGE 6.
If you yank out your disc to fire back,
TURN TO PAGE 42.
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You don’t feel ready to hit the city—you want to get a better sense of where you are and of what you can expect first. “Let’s check out the light show,” you tell Alex. “Awesome!” He dashes ahead and you have to jog to keep up with him.
It takes you a while to reach your destination. When you do arrive you see vibrantly colored energy that rises and falls like the waves of the ocean. No wonder it’s listed on the map as the Sea of Simulation—it looks just like water. You and Alex travel along something resembling a shoreline, watching the violet and turquoise bursts.
Alex stops suddenly and kicks off his sneakers.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Wading!” he cries and runs toward the undulating waves of light.
You’re not sure this is a good idea. What if the kid gets electrocuted or something by hurling himself into all that energy? “Alex, get back here!” you call.
Alex stops, turns, and sticks out his tongue at you.
But before he can turn back around, a shaft of light shoots down from the sky directly onto him. He’s lifted off the ground and pulled up inside what looks like a giant spaceship.
It all happens so quickly, you don’t have a chance to move, to gasp, or to do anything at all to save him!
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This is my chance, you think. I’ll show Jax how good I am! Then you’re sure she’ll find someone else to run her errands.
You pull on the helmet, making your disguise complete, and put the bike in gear. It growls to life. You pull up alongside the parked stunt car.
“CUT!” someone cries.
Uh-oh. You have a bad feeling you just made a big mistake.
“Who’s the idiot who just rode into the shot?” a large man bellows through a megaphone.
You feel a pair of hands yank you off the bike. “What do you think you’re doing?” the stunt rider shouts. “Why do you think I needed someone to watch the bike? So jerks like you don’t ride it!”
You hang your head. “Sorry, man, I just wanted—”
Jax stalks up to you. “Off the set. Now!” she shrieks.
You stare at her. “Can’t you give me one more—”
“Security!” she barks into her walkie-talkie. She glares at you. “I run a safe set. People who don’t follow orders get people hurt. You’re never going to work in this field. I’ll make sure of it.” Great. You’re first day as a movie stunt driver is also your last. For weeks you try to find a job, with no success. Finally you find something that matches your skills. You’re a fast-food delivery person. At least you get to ride every day….
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A lab,” you murmur. You gaze around a room frozen in time. A jacket slung casually over a sofa. An open soda can. You move deeper into the room and pick up a framed photo from the desk: you and your dad at a baseball game. This must be your father’s secret lab.
You put the photo back on the desk and notice a large map on the wall. the grid is written across the top. “The Grid,” you murmur. That’s what your dad called the world inside the server he created.
You take a seat at the desk and wipe off the thick dust. This reveals multicolored glowing graphics. The desk itself is a tabletop computer!
You tap the on button and the screen fills with code. Suddenly, all the gobbledygook on the screen rewrites itself into a very simple question: tron project—“initiate sequence?” y/n?
Good question.
If you hit Yes, TURN TO PAGE 57.
If you hit No, TURN TO PAGE 12.
If you do nothing, TURN TO PAGE 48.
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Quorra speeds toward an enormous mountain. You clench your teeth as she aims straight for it, and you release your white-knuckled grip on your armrests as a hidden door slides open. She drives inside.
You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the dark tunnel. You’re not sure if she’s navigating by memory or if the car is doing it for her. Either way, you come safely to a stop soon enough.
Quorra guides you to a platform which rises up into a large dark room. The far wall is made almost entirely of glass. You step out and pause on the threshold, trying to take it all in.
You may have arrived inside a mountain, but the elevator brought you up to one of its dramatic ledges. A vast landscape spreads out before you. The city twinkles in the distance, occasionally flashing with light surges. You can almost feel its energy pulsing. But this tranquil room has the feeling of a sanctuary.
As your eyes adjust to the low light you realize a man is sitting on the floor meditating. You can’t believe what you’re seeing: a translucent stream of data and equations seems to be coursing through him!
“We have a guest,” Quorra announces.
The man slowly rises from the floor and turns around. As he does, the floor around him illuminates and you can see his face.
You gasp.
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Soon Quorra calls you to dinner, and you sit down to a feast. You stick to safe topics. You comment on the vintage Light Cycle your dad has parked in the corner of the room. It seems to be displayed as a work of art, not something that gets much use. After more small talk Flynn finally looks you in the eye.
“I guess you have a lot of questions, Sam,” he says.
You return his gaze just as directly. “Actually just one.”
Your father takes a deep breath. “Why I never came home.”
He pushes up from the table and crosses to a
fireplace. “Those nights when I went to the office…I’m sure you’ve figured out by now I was coming here. I had discovered a way to bring a human form into digital space. And a portal that would allow me to get back out.”
“Amazing,” you say.
“Yeah…it really was,” your father says, a dreamy look on his face. “Time works differently here,” he continues, focusing again. “You’d think I had been gone an hour when weeks would pass here.” He pokes at the burning logs. “But I couldn’t stay here all the time. I needed helpers.”
“Tron,” you say. “And Clu.”
He turns and smiles at you. “You remember all those bedtime stories.”
“I thought you were just making it all up,” you tell him. “But you were really telling me about your days at ‘the office.’”
“Exactly.”
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You manage to yank the disc from your suit and fling it at your opponent.
He somersaults over the arcing disc, then slams his disc to the ground. It drives into the panel underneath you, shattering the spot you stand on.
“Yah!” you cry as you drop down and frantically clutch the edges of the hole. You dangle for a moment. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play …”
You pull yourself back up onto the game platform and instantly roll to avoid another whirring disc.
Your combatant sprints toward you, and you steal a move from his playbook. You hurl your disc at his feet. The panels under him shatter and he plunges down, down, down, screaming all the way.
You stay crouched, shaken by the terrible toll of victory. Slowly you rise, glad that at least it’s over. That’s when you see a platform heading your way. It carries the victor of another match and quickly attaches to your platform.
Tron Legacy - It's Your Call - Initiate Sequence Page 3
