"Ok mom, so we pull up around this big rock and what do we see? A recognizer? A dreadnought? Heck no! It's a freakin cubist rendition of a Kraken! With these big noodle arms!" Jet was gesturing widely with his hands even though Lora couldn't see it.
"So Quorra says it's a grid bug and I'm like 'wow had no idea grid bugs got that big' cause it's like the size of a freakin semi truck or bigger. So we circle down and start shooting at it when it freakin grabs onto us and tries to pull us down! And Quorra's like 'I'll handle this'" Jet put his hands on his hips and did a horrible falsetto impression of Quorras voice.
"Then she just pulls a James Bond and slides down the stinkin tentacle. So Sam's like 'oh no not my wife!" Jet put his hand over his forehead like a fainting Victorian maiden.
"I did not say that" Sam grumbled.
"Nuh uh, my story. you get your turn later" Jet snapped.
"What are you twelve?" Sam shot back. But Jet ignored him and barreled on.
"So Quorra starts stabbing this thing! And Gems like 'not without me' and she JUMPS out of the plane and starts stabbing the thing too. And they killed it! And then Gem pulls the program the Kraken was trying to eat out of the water and it turns out he's Tron"
"Wait the grid bug was trying to eat someone?" Lora asked. Apparently more confused than when they started.
"You have always been bad at linear story telling Jet" Quorra remarked absently.
Allen sighed.
"Jet, as entertaining as your rendition has been I think I can take it from here"
"Sure thing dad" Jet replied jovially..
"We found a grid bug attempting to consume a program. We engaged. Quorra and Gem destroyed it. We pulled the program into our craft and are now trying to determine...if he's Tron" an odd mix of regret, trepidation and joy lanced through Allen at that moment.
"Oh, that makes sense" Lora responded.
"There is of course one easy way to figure out who he is" Allen said evenly. Gently, he gripped the program by the shoulders and tipped him over, removing the disc from the holster on his back.
"I noticed he had two discs earlier" Gem said almost in a whisper. She reached down awkwardly and pulled another disc off the floorboard.
"He had it clutched in his hand when I found him. I took it from him so it wouldn't injure anyone" she handed the disc to Allen. Who examined them both. "Interesting" Allen said.
Gem shifted and then spoke in a rush like she had been holding in her question for awhile "If you are not Tron. But you wrote Tron. Then that makes you?"
"Allen Bradley" the older man said with a smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance"
"Allen, like Allen-One?" She asked, her voice truly just a whisper now. Her eyes huge and round. Allen shifted uncomfortably since she was literally only an inch or two away from him.
"Ah yes, that was my old screen name back in my Encom days" a shiver ran through Gem, she averted her eyes from his and looked forward into nothing. It was hard for Allen to pin down the look on her face. Fear? Joy? Wonder?
She exhaled heavily and croaked "I see....that is good to know. It is good to meet you User Allen-One" she turned her face back to him but would not quite meet his eyes. He got the feeling that she would be inching away from him right now if there was even an inch of space to be had in the back of the flier.
"Now don't start calling me User Allen-One it took me forever to get Quorra to stop calling me that" he said half jokingly.
Gems eyes suddenly focused on Quorra.
"You knew he was Allen-One" Gem's comment was directed to the ISO in the front seat and there was the barest edge of annoyance in it.
"And I also knew you probably thought he was Tron. And I did not deign to inform you of your misunderstanding. Yes" Quorra said primly.
Gem let out a slow and slightly shaky breath.
"What else was I supposed to assume?" They look exactly the same".
"We do?" Allen asked skeptically.
"Yes, if we view his disc you will see" Gem said, her tone drastically more respectful when addressing Allen.
The older man looked at the two discs in his hand.
"uh, can you hold onto one? I don't have space in my lap to rest it" Allen said sheepishly.
Gem took the additional disc back as Allen fired up the hard light interface on his. It glowed white and a face that looked like a younger version of himself flickered into view. He blinked, surprised, but also the feeling of puzzle pieces clicking into place resonated in his chest. This actually explained a few things.
Instinctively, Allen opened up the lines of code and was suddenly awash in nostalgia and recognition.
Tron.
Without a doubt. This was his program from all the way back in the early days of Encom. The one Flynn had borrowed. And the one who had been protecting Flynn's grid all this time. Allen blinked, and realized he had tears in his eyes.
"It's Tron" he said. His voice suddenly rough with emotion.
"That's great!" Jett said elated "I got Tron's feet in my lap right now!"
"Now's not the time to get all excited Jet. We still don't know if he's dangerous" Sam said tightly.
Jet blinked at his friend in the front seat.
"Isn't Tron on our side though? I mean I had action figures of him on my desk growing up" Jet said. Those action figures had borne a striking resemblance to a young Allen Bradley. To be fair, Flynn had insisted on using Allen as the model when marketing the toys. Allen shook his head at the memory. Flynn, a man with secrets piled on secrets.
"The reason I'm not sure if he's dangerous is because; except for the fact that his light lines are white now" Sam gestured into the back seat with his thumb. "That guy looks exactly like Rinzler"
Allen was hardly listening to this conversation. His wonderment and elation had hardened into confusion. Then suspicion.
"What? What is this?" Allen asked, bewildered. As he had skimmed deeper in Trons code he steadily found more and more orange threads of code he did not recognize. It was jagged and destructive, attached onto the pristine original lines like a parasitic vine. The deeper he went the more he found until the code broke off and was entirely orange. A jagged scar appeared across the face of the hard light figure.
"Lora what do you make of this?" Allen asked his wife.
"Not sure, it looks like your work on the surface. But the further you go the more fragmented and damaged it gets. Something is very wrong with your program Allen"
"Let me see that other disc" Allen said shortly. Gem meekly passed him the second disc and held the first close to her chest, her eyes on Alan's movements.
When Allen opened the hard light interface on the second disc, orange light filled the backseat of the flier. A soft gasp escaped the female program beside him.
A figure with a bullet shaped helmet, awash in orange light floated over the disc. Allen grit his teeth and delved into the code behind it.
More of the same snarled orange figures were intermixed with bits and fragments of Trons original code. Not only that, but this disc seemed to be the inverse of the other one. The further down he went the more of the undamaged principal code he found. But it was still shot through with veins of orange.
Allen grit his teeth and felt rage build up inside him. This was not the fiery rage that had filled him when he faced Pavel. It was cooler, calmer, but infinitely more consuming.
"Who. Did. This?" He snarled to no one in particular.
"You ok dad?" Jet asked carefully, he leaned around Gem to get a better look at the contents of the disc.
Allen just seethed, unable to form words that wouldn't come out snapping with pain and anger. Someone, and he was willing to bet CLU was behind it, had infected Tron with malware. Had absolutely gutted his code and forcibly patched in destructive command lines on top of his original design. The program had been wrecked and fundamentally restructured in the most disgusting and harmful way.
"Oh Allen" Lora said softly. Knowing what her husband must be going through in that moment as she scrolled through Tron's coding on her side of the computer screen.
"There is definitely no way for me to resurrect CLU and personally rip him to shreds is there?" Allen asked no one in particular in a cold, dead voice.
Sam chuckled humorlessly "Nope, 'fraid not. I already checked"
"Shame" Allen said darkly.
Gem spoke "They, they repurposed him" her voice almost inaudible. But her tone was so heartbroken and horrified it broke Allen out of his seething mess of hatred. Her eyes were filled with recognition and pain.
Allen realized the program next to him might be able to shed some light on the thorny problem in his hands.
"Sam explained to me how CLU was able to repurpose programs to become part of his invasion force. Give them new directives and command lines and make them his soldiers. But this" his fingers clenched around the edges of the disc "this isn't just a general repurposing. This is more"
Gem opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again "CLU could force directives on Programs. It was part of his original clearance as an administrator. But fundamentally changing how programs interpreted those directives. Changing their base function. That was what he did after the Purge" Gem was shivering. But not from the remaining water in her suit or cold.
"He stripped away who they were and left nothing but his directive. I saw it happen to programs I knew. Friends. They couldn't fight it. And they couldn't change back" she cut off, like it hurt too much to continue.
Quorra spoke now "I saw it happen in Radia's guard. Tron had assigned some of his security programs to augment Radia's security. Ones he trusted, ones who understood that ISOs weren't a threat and Flynn's vision for the Grid" Quorra grit her teeth and spit out her next words "those same programs we trusted came back glowing orange and killed Radia's entire inner circle. All the leaders, builders and the greatest thinkers in the ISO community. Slaughtered"
Sam reached over and took his wife's hand. She gripped it like it was an anchor in a storm.
Jet spoke, his voice uncharacteristically solemn and deep, suddenly sounding so much more like his father. "So, he's both Tron and Rinzler"
"Looks like it" Sam rumbled.
Allen continued to stumble through the shattered remains of Tron's code. His anger and sadness compounding. Then, the light of the disc flickered. The orange code pulsed a deeper shade and the figure on his lap tensed. Then went limp again as the lines returned to how they were.
"What was that?" Allen asked, scrolling through the lines hurriedly, wondering if he had accidentally touched something to make the malware suddenly increase in strength.
"It looks like Trons systems are heavily over clocking themselves. The original lines are fighting to retain integrity while the new code is trying to burrow deeper in. It's taking a lot of energy. He may derezz if this keeps up" Lora said tightly.
"We need to give him some energy" Allen mused "If I'm even going to start work on putting him back together he can't be so drained"
"You think you can fix him dad?" Jet asked hopefully.
"Fix him? Not sure, I don't even know how far the corruption goes. I'm going to have to do a full audit on his code. Repair some pieces and rewrite some entirely. It'll take a while" Allen released the disc with one hand and rubbed his eyes. Suddenly exhausted.
"There was a font of pure energy in Flynn's sanctuary" Quorra said somewhat grudgingly. Allen looked her up and down and realized she was probably struggling to separate her idea of Rinzler and her idea of Tron. She was upset and above all, tired. Like everyone else.
"Sam, how much longer would it add to our travel to go to Flynn's old hideout? I need energy for Tron and I think everyone would rest a lot easier if we weren't all shoved into an emergency tent" Allen had seen the theoretical size of Jet's tent. While it would have been big enough for four people. It would be full to bursting with six. And he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on the problem of Trons code in a situation like that.
Sam thought for a moment. "Since we're flying it shouldn't take much longer. Quorra?" He turned to the ISO.
"We will be able to fly straight there. Since we know CLU's entire expeditionary force was destroyed it's unlikely the remaining forces have enough strength to find us that far in the out lands"
Sam nodded "then plot me a course copilot" he said with the barest edge of tired humor.
Quorra nodded and Sam pushed the flier to even greater speeds, suddenly anxious for something soft to sleep on and a roof over their heads.