Tron Legacy - It's Your Call - Initiate Sequence

by Jablonski, Carla

  Do you abandon ship? This could make you more vulnerable but could also keep you from being trapped inside that cave. TURN TO PAGE 49.

  Or do you stay aboard to find out what’s going on?

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  Clu grips his baton with both hands. He sprints forward and leaps into the air. As he does, the baton transforms into a Light Cycle!

  “So that’s what this is for!” you cry, waving the baton.

  You grin as you hold out the baton, preparing. “Now, this I can do!” You run and jump. A Light Cycle forms. You revel in the power surging beneath you.

  Then you remember—this is a ride to the death.

  You study Clu as the green and blue riders glide onto the humming grid. Your eyes widen. The Light Cycles leave colored walls behind them, like trails.

  A cycling Sentry is hot on the tail of the purple rider. It zooms in front of him, then zigzags back and forth, creating a light wall that blocks the purple player. Unable to change course in time, the purple program slams into the wall, derezzing into thousands of tiny cubes.

  The light walls are lethal, you realize.

  Clu shoots down to the level below and decapitates the blue player with his disc.

  Whoa. This guy means business. You have to focus.

  Two Sentries sandwich you between them. You surge out toward an off-ramp. It’s a high-risk maneuver but one you’ve done on regular freeways before. One of the Sentries tries to emulate your move but can’t. He derezzes in a churning wipeout on the Grid. “Score!” you cheer.

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  There are already dozens of solar sailers on the deck of the huge ship.

  “Let’s get out of here,” you say.

  “Yeah,” your dad agrees. He nods to the crates. “We don’t want to be here when they start unloading these guys.”

  You scurry along the ramp leading to the dock and keep low, hoping you won’t be noticed in all the activity.

  “This way.” Your father leads you quickly along the edges of the deck and up a spiral staircase. You sneak onto a catwalk, high above the deck of the Rectifier. You can see hundreds of programs—maybe thousands—standing below. Then you see Clu approaching a podium. A wave of cheers greets him.

  He smiles broadly as he addresses the throng. “Together, we have achieved a great many things. We’ve built a new world. We’ve rid it of its imperfections. And we rid it of the false deity who sought to enslave us: Kevin Flynn.”

  This is so bizarre. There’s Clu—an exact replica of your father—a younger version of your father, sure, but still your father. And he’s declaring himself as the enemy! If this is weird for you, you can only imagine how it must be for your dad. Clu went from being creation to partner to enemy.

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  Now you understand. That man isn’t your father. He’s Clu, your father’s avatar! He’s a program!

  No wonder he hasn’t changed. He looks exactly the way he did when your father created him. Your dad designed Clu to look just like him.

  He runs this alternate world. And these life-and-death games.

  How do you reason with a computer program?

  No time to wonder about that now—the Sentries have returned and drag you out.

  “Hey, you don’t have to play so rough,” you tell them. “I’m going.”

  The ship lowers so that it hovers just above the sprawling game grid. The gaunt man, Jarvis, descends the ramp onto the Grid, carrying an ornate box. The Sentries drag you down to the Grid and you gaze up at the thousands of programs. You wonder where Clu is.

  Jarvis clears his throat, then addresses the throngs. “Greetings, programs. Oh, what an occasion we have here before us. His Beneficence has given us the pleasure and the privilege of the games for many a cycle!”

  You guess that Clu is the “beneficence” Jarvis means. And that Clu invented the gladiator games.

  “On this occasion, we will witness something altogether different! The rumors are true. We do, indeed, have a user in our midst!”

  The crowd cheers. User? You glance around. Oh! They mean you!

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  You’ve got to work together—otherwise there’s no chance of survival. If you eliminate Clu’s wingmen, you might actually have a shot at surviving.

  You zoom toward the kid in aqua. “Follow me!” you shout.

  You increase speed to catch up with a Sentry. You and Aqua take positions on either side of him. You move closer, boxing him in. The Sentry bumps Aqua, sending him sprawling off his bike. He slides along the floor.

  The Sentries bear down on the helpless kid, unsheathing his disc. You’ve got to stop him. You go even faster on your Light Cycle. You zip in front of the Sentry, and he slams into your trailing light wall. He derezzes!

  Aqua is stunned to be alive. He raises his arms in triumph. The crowd screams with delight at this amazing sight. Then Clu races over and flattens the kid under his Light Cycle, derezzing him into tiny cubes.

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  No!” you shout. “No, No, NO, NO, NO!!!”

  You stomp around the streetlamp. You can’t believe this! You run out into the intersection hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of your bike’s taillights. You come to a standstill and blink a few times. “This doesn’t look familiar,” you murmur.

  You know you haven’t been to this part of town in a while, but somehow the street seems different from when you arrived just a few minutes ago. Maybe it’s because of the fog.

  Suddenly a blinding spotlight pierces the gloom, bathing you in bright white light.

  You shade your eyes with your hand and squint up into the night sky. Your eyes widen. “Impossible!” you gasp. “Th-that looks like a…like a …”

  Hovering silently above you is a Recognizer—the same upside-down U-shaped vehicle that sits in plastic mini form on your shelf at home. Your old night light—only a gazillion times bigger!

  It can’t be. But there it is. And there’s only one possible explanation.

  I…I’m inside the computer! you realize. In the system!

  Panic rushes through you and you start to run. A loud rumbling sound makes you look down. No! The ground around your feet is shrinking! You’re left trying to balance on a tiny concrete island, surrounded by a trench. You’re not going anywhere.

  “Identify yourself, program!” a booming voice orders from the Recognizer.

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  Moments later, you rev your father’s old Light Cycle as you ride toward the city rising in the distance.

  At the center of the city is a monolithic skyscraper, sending out a pulsing light show from the very top of its spire. You remember seeing it from the Recognizer.

  You cross a long narrow bridge and ride into the tangle of city streets. The energy crackles. This must be the energy Quorra meant—programs and their vehicles can’t travel anywhere without it.

  You’re surrounded by massive buildings with severe angular designs. They tower over you, making you feel tiny and insignificant.

  Above you, a Recognizer cruises lazily, but you don’t seem to have attracted attention. There are other vehicles and programs that also ignore you. So far, so good.

  Soon the scene changes around you. Now the buildings are smaller, more rundown. More Sentries are out on patrol. You hear a booming voice announcing, “This is a restricted area. Authorized programs only. Violators without functionality or residence confirmation will be swiftly deleted.”

  You see Sentries manning each corner, checking disc IDs of passing programs. You decide you’ll attract less attention on foot so you ride into an alley and reluctantly leave your dad’s bike there.

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  You turn around. “What makes yo
u think I’m looking for someone?” you ask.

  She steps up to you and smirks. She plucks the card Quorra gave you from your hand. “Intuition,” she says drily.

  Your eyes narrow as you study her. How much should you reveal?

  “I can help you, Sam,” she says. “I know who you’re looking for. And you’ll have better luck with me than on your own.”

  She has a point. You nod slowly.

  “My name is Gem. Come with me.” She links her arm though yours. “Whisper into my ear,” she tells you.

  “Huh?”

  “Just do it.”

  Whatever. You lean into her and whisper, “I suppose you have a reason….”

  She laughs as if you’re saying something brilliantly funny and waves at the nearby Sentries. They let you pass without a question.

  The doors at the entrance slide open, revealing a glass elevator. You step inside and whoosh! The elevator rockets up the side of the building to the top.

  The elevator stops and the door opens into a teeming nightclub. It overlooks the city. Gem takes your hand and walks you into the crowd.

  “What is this place?” you ask.

  “It’s called the End of Line Club,” she tells you.

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  Slow down, kiddo,” you tell him. “First answer my questions.”

  The kid rolls his eyes and sighs, as if this is the most boring conversation ever. “My name is Alex, and I’ve been sneaking in here for years.” He gives you a smug smile. “It’s not as locked up as you think.”

  You cock your head. “Years? You’ve been coming here since you were in diapers? You’re not exactly old.” Alex scowls, then his forehead furrows. “Wait a sec! Who are you? And what are you doing in here?”

  “You ask too many questions,” you tell him, suppressing a grin. You turn back to the computer screen. “Now let’s see what I can do with this baby.”

  Alex crosses his arms and pouts as you shove his chair out of the way. You stand, gazing down at the console. “Hmmmm.”

  Suddenly Alex dashes in front of you. “I know!” he cries. “I bet the screen is interactive. No buttons to push!” His fingers hover over the screen, and then he circles the area called the Outlands. He presses down.

  There is a blinding light and then—whoosh! You feel as if all the air is being sucked out of you. Crazy lights swirl around your eyes, and your feet fly out from under you. But you don’t fall—well, not exactly. It feels more like weightless free fall.

  What is going on?

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  Time to get serious. You shove Zuse off the bar. He goes sprawling into the crowd. They cheer even louder and hoist him up over their heads. Then they ferry him across the front of the bar.

  You scan the room and spot Bartik glowering with his gang at Zuse’s booth. You cup your hands around your mouth to be heard over the music. “Zuse!” you cry. “I found Zuse!”

  That catches Bartik’s attention. He shoves his way toward you. You point at the club owner, who is still being passed around by the crowd. “Castor is Zuse!”

  Okay, now you’ve got everyone’s attention. Zuse thuds to the ground, and space clears around him. Bartik lifts him up by his shoulders.

  “You’re Zuse?” Bartik bellows. “You…cartoon?”

  “Desperate times, desperate fashion choices,” Zuse quips. Then his eyes narrow and he lowers his voice. “I’ve had to protect my interests. Lay low. I’m sure you understand….”

  Bartik releases Zuse. He turns to the crowd. “The time of revolution is upon us! And if this former leader will no longer lead—then we take on Clu ourselves!” He whirls and glares at Zuse again. “But first we punish this turncoat for making fools of us all!”

  Just then, the Black Guard charge down the stairs and start hurling discs. “About time,” Zuse rolls his eyes. “So hard to find good backup anymore.”

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  A small door opens, flooding the chamber with bright white light. It’s the only exit. You step though it and find yourself and another person on a floating platform in an arena filled with hundreds of thousands of spectators. Seven other large courts float in the middle of the massive stadium, allowing spectators to watch multiple matches at once.

  A deafening roar builds as the platform you’re on whirls and locks into place. If only you could figure out exactly what you’ll be playing…

  Silence settles over the arena. You’ve never seen anything on this kind of scale before. All attention seems to be riveted on a ship hovering above the stadium. You peer up and see an imposing masked man dressed in militaristic armor displayed on a large screen. He brings his arm down sharply, and the crowd erupts. The games have begun.

  Your combatant faces you and pulls his disc from the sheath in the back of his suit. A visor extends from his helmet, shielding his face. He brandishes the disc and you notice its laser-sharp edges. You realize you’ve seen him before!

  “I have a three-inch version of you on my shelf,” you joke.

  The combatant hurls his disc at your head. You duck, but it clips your hair, singeing it! The disc returns to his hand like a boomerang.

  “But he never did that!” you blurt out.

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  You stare out at the Sea of Simulation. It’s not really water, you remind yourself as intense colors tumble like waves. You bend down and waggle your hand in the flickering energy ebbing and flowing around your feet. You feel a slight tremor, not as bad as getting a shock—more like mild static electricity. You can handle this.

  You wade into the energy. It tingles but it’s not unpleasant. It sort of tickles, in fact.

  The Recognizer is moving very slowly along the coast, so you have no trouble keeping up with it. You follow the ship for quite some time, wondering why it hasn’t noticed you. But something weird is happening—more and more twirling energy bursts are appearing around you. Some are beginning to attach themselves to you. Your thoughts grow more and more confused. It’s harder to think now. You can barely see the Recognizer. That’s when you realize you are under the sea.

  You peer through the murky churning energy field in front of you. Images appear and recede—ghostly shapes and figures. You reach toward one and realize your arm is changing right in front of you. Your edges are growing blurry; your fingers elongate, then snap back into place. Your whole body seems to be having some kind of molecular breakdown!

  The energy of the Sea of Simulation is transforming your body into something else—something strange and unfamiliar. Soon you’ve lost all sense of who you are or why you’re there. You simply allow the energy to take you. Swallow you up. Mutate you into something no longer human—and since you’re no longer human, you don’t actually mind.

  THE END

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  Now the kid looks intrigued. “Not even you?” You smirk. “I own the place. I can be here as much as I want.”

  He looks around skeptically at the grimy surfaces, the cobwebs, and the boarded-up windows. “I guess you don’t want to be here too much.”

  “That’s the truth,” you tell him. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Nothing but ghosts and dust bunnies.” You lead him out the door. Just as you thought—this whole night has just been a silly wild-goose chase.

  “Hey, if a ghost got into a fight with a dust bunny, who do you think would win?” the kid asks. “And if it was the ghost of a dust bunny do you think it would hop? And—”

  This kid is beginning to give you a headache. You’ll be glad to be rid of him. Just the way you’ll be glad to be rid of this arcade. You take one glance back over your shoulder and vow never to step foot in it again.

  THE END

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  You’re not sticking around to find out who is in the arcade with you. This place is creepy enough!
You tear out of the arcade and into the deserted streets, your heart thumping.

  You slow down as you approach your motorcycle, starting to feel foolish. Running out of there like a scared little kid, as if you were being chased by a monster or something.

  There is probably nothing to be scared of. Nothing.

  You whirl around and return to the arcade, determined to figure out who the intruder is. You poke your head in cautiously. No one in sight.

  You creep into the building and drop down, scanning under the game machines. Still nothing. You stand back up, confused. You’re pretty sure no one followed you out to the street. So where did the intruder go?

  You stay close to the wall as you make your way along the perimeter of the arcade. You don’t want anyone to catch you by surprise.

  Still nothing. No sign of life. Then you hear a loud whoop! from downstairs, followed by something that sounds like an explosion! And it came from your dad’s private lab!

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  “I am not a program!” you declare. A new voice comes over the speaker. “Identify yourself,” it rumbles.

  You’re startled. There’s something familiar about the voice. How can that be possible? You don’t know anyone in this crazy world. Still, you answer truthfully: “My name is Sam Flynn!”

  Your declaration echoes around the hushed stadium. For a moment there’s total silence. Then a murmur starts in the crowd. They seem to recognize the name.

  Good. Your dad invented this whole world—maybe now they’ll show you some respect!

  Your opponent approaches you, flanked by two Sentries. They escort you off the platform and up onto the ship without saying a word. “Not very chatty, are you?” you say. No response. At least you’re not fighting for your life anymore. You hope.