Tron Legacy - It's Your Call - Initiate Sequence

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Tron Legacy - It's Your Call - Initiate Sequence Page 7

by Jablonski, Carla


  TURN TO PAGE 135

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  It’s a crazy move, but it’s all you’ve got. You grab Quorra’s grappling hook, attach it to the rail the way she did, and swing under the bridge. You rise up through the gap.

  “Dad!” you shout at the height of your swing. “Jump!”

  He leaps at you and grabs the rope just above your head. His knees hit you in the face, but his added weight actually helps swing you back to the other side fast.

  Too bad Rinzler is still on your side of the gap!

  “Get us out of here, Dad!” you cry. “We’ll hold him off!”

  Quorra quickly converts her grappling hook into a weapon.

  “I won’t be needing this anymore!” You fling your disc at Rinzler. As Rinzler ducks out of the way, your father cries,

  “Ready!”

  You rush to stand beside him and Quorra. Quorra holds her baton in front of her like a spear, holding Rinzler at bay. “Don’t let him have any contact,” your dad cries. The island is rumbling and shattering around you!

  Your dad throws his disc to the pulsating ground, then grabs you and Quorra by the shoulders. “On my count!” he tells Quorra. She keeps jabbing at Rinzler, who struggles inch-by-inch toward you as more and more chasms open up around him.

  “Now!” your father cries. He brings his foot down onto his disc, shattering it into pieces. At the same moment, Quorra shoves her baton at Rinzler one last time and releases it. There’s a massive wave of energy, you hear an enormous blast, and bright white lights nearly blind you.

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  Sorry, man,” you say. “Didn’t mean to crowd you. Just trying to keep the kid from being trampled.” Bartik eyes you suspiciously, but his grip loosens a little. “Small fry are easy to trip over. Always underfoot. Am I right?”

  Now he looks completely confused. “Kid? Small fry? What are you talking about?”

  “Me, you big loser!” Alex declares. Then he punches your arm. “I hate being called small fry. I’m not that small for my age.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” you tell Alex, grateful that his presence is such a distraction to Bartik and his fierce buddies. “Didn’t mean to insult you.”

  Now they’re ignoring you and staring wide-eyed at Alex. They almost seem frightened by him. What gives? Alex scowls at them. “Take a picture, it will last longer,” he says. He tugs your sleeve. “Can we go now? Please?”

  You’re torn. These men know something about your father. Could he actually be alive? And here—in this world? If you walk away now you may never find out.

  But they are seriously scary dudes, and their bizarre, fearful response to an eight-year-old kid with braces makes you want to get away from them—fast. Who knows what they do when they feel threatened? Animals usually attack—maybe that’s also true for these guys.

  Stick around ON PAGE 94.

  Get out of there ON PAGE 111.

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  You glance at Quorra, who eyes you over her tea. “Aren’t you tired of living in hiding?” you ask her. “Fearing for your life? If you can even call this a life.”

  “It’s not for me to interfere,” she says, getting up. “This is for the Flynns to decide.” She leaves the room.

  “It’s unfair to project your burdens onto others,” your father says. “Stress is bad for the system.”

  “Giving up is bad for the system!” you shout. “Being a prisoner is bad for the system! Why don’t you get it?”

  Your father slowly stands and studies you. He seems to be making a decision. “You’re right. We’re individuals who need to be allowed to make our own choices—and our own mistakes. My way isn’t necessarily your way.”

  He goes to the window and points at a blinking tower. “That’s the Portal. As long as it sends out beams it’s open. See how it’s flickering? That means it’s getting ready to close. To be honest, I doubt you’ll reach it in time—if you reach it at all. But that’s your risk to take. If you want to attempt it, I’ll provide you with a map and the means.”

  He turns and gazes at you. “But I’m staying here. I can’t take the chance Clu will get my disc.” So what do you do?

  Leave your dad and hope the Portal will still be open by the time you get there? TURN TO PAGE 112.

  Or figure he’s right and you won’t be able to get out—and stay here with him and Quorra where it’s safe.

  TURN TO PAGE 132.

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  You peer out of the alley. Looks like the Sentries are busy hassling someone else right now. You creep out and hurry to the gigantic tower rising high into the sky.

  You reach the base and realize the symbol on the card Quorra gave you is also on the door of the massive structure. This must be the right place.

  “Sam Flynn,” you hear a female voice say. You turn and see one of the Sirens who had helped you into your suit of armor back at the games.

  You’re not sure if you can trust anyone—particularly someone who knows your name, now that you are aware of what’s going on between your dad and Clu.

  You turn and start to walk away.

  “You’re looking for someone,” she calls after you.

  If you keep walking, TURN TO PAGE 23.

  If you turn back around, TURN TO PAGE 65.

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  Castor leads you to the center of the room and somehow activates a staircase that emerges from the floor. This place is full of bells and whistles, you think, following Castor up the stairs.

  You step into a room made entirely of glass. Castor’s sanctuary is built under a huge skylight and has a glass floor, so that he can watch what’s happening in his club, you suppose.

  “You’ve caused quite the stir with your arrival,” Castor tells you. “Whispers of revolution are gaining volume.” He turns and pours some drinks.

  “So when do I meet Zuse?” you ask.

  He turns around, drinks in hand. “You just did.” He grins.

  You stare at him. “You’re Zuse? You’re not exactly what I pictured.”

  He shrugs. “After the purge I needed to reinvent myself. Self-preservation, you understand.” He hands you your drink. “I’ve been around since the earliest days of the gaming grid. I have survived by minding all the angles.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Now what can I do for you?”

  “I need to get to the Portal,” you say.

  He looks out to the tall structure in the distance. “It’s quite the journey. Beyond the far reaches of the Outlands and over the Sea of Simulation.”

  “So, can you help me?”

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  Don’t worry, Alex,” you say. “We’ll go soon. I just need to have some grown-up talk with these gentlemen first.”

  “Is it a mini?” Bartik asks, pointing at Alex.

  “Are you guys freaks or something? Don’t call me it!” Alex fumes.

  You’re confused by their reaction. Then it hits you. You’re inside your father’s digital world. These are computer-generated programs!

  “It is a child,” you explain. “I used to be one. And Kevin Flynn was one, too. And there’s a reason we have this in common. We’re very close. Like family. In fact, we are family.” You take a step back to see what affect your words have.

  Exactly what you’d hoped. Their suspicious looks transform into awe. “You are the Son of Flynn,” Bartik whispers hoarsely. “You’re why the Portal is lit once again.”

  “I don’t know about any Portal,” you say. “But yes, Kevin Flynn is my dad. And it sounds to me like you know something about what’s happened to him.”

  Bartik glances at Veltor, who gives a sharp nod.

  “Headquarters. It will be safer to talk there.”

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  If that person who streaked through is being chased, you want to find out by whom—or what.

&
nbsp; You cross the room and peer through the doorway to the left. This is another enormous dark room. Off in the corner you see the shadowy outlines of a figure, but it’s not very distinct.

  That’s weird, you think, rubbing your eyes. It’s as if I can’t focus my eyes.

  You move deeper into the room and hear strange rustling sounds. Rats, maybe? Then you feel something brush your face. “Hey!” you yelp. You whirl around. But no one’s there.

  The figure is on the move again. It’s almost as if it’s leading you somewhere. You round a corner and see it drop through a trapdoor. Now voices are urging you to follow…follow…follow.

  What is going on? You whip your head around again, trying to figure out who’s talking to you. Your eyes widen—hundreds of ghostly figures are reaching out to you.

  “Yaaaaa!” you cry, and fall backward through the trapdoor. You land, hard—breaking your neck.

  You have fallen victim to the ghost programs—programs that have been deleted but exist in shadowy form at the edges of the Grid.

  While they may unfortunately be ghost programs, you’re now a full-fledged ghost.

  THE END

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  You look back and forth between your dad and Quorra. “That doesn’t make any sense! We have to make a run for it.”

  “We’re safe here in the Outlands,” your dad says. “As soon as we step on that Grid—believe me—there’s no move we can make Clu hasn’t considered. Nothing happens unless he wants it to.”

  “That’s not true,” you protest. “Look at me. I’m here. We’re together.”

  Now your dad and Quorra exchange a cryptic look.

  “Tell me,” your dad says, “what brought you here to the Grid?”

  “Alan got a page from you,” you say impatiently. Your dad knows all this!

  “I didn’t send any page, Sam,” your dad says.

  Your jaw drops. Is he saying what you think he’s saying?

  “It was Clu,” you father says, confirming your fear. “That’s why you’re here. He wanted a new piece on the board to change the game. And with you he got more than he ever dreamed. This is precisely what he wants. Us together. Heading for the Portal. It’s his game now, Sam. And the only way to win is not to play.”

  “That’s a stupid way to live,” you snap.

  “Perhaps,” your father says.

  “We can go home,” you argue, almost pleading. “Don’t you want that?’”

  “Sometimes life has a way of moving you past things like wants and hopes. Quorra will show you to your room. Good night, Sam.”

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  You don’t have time to waste. You fling your disc at Rinzler. In the gladiator games you learned how to put the right spin on it to get it to return to you. You keep throwing it—faster and faster. You can see that Rinzler is getting rattled as he ducks and weaves. The bridge undulates and shakes, making it hard for him to keep his balance.

  Finally Rinzler manages to throw his discs at you. You take aim and—clack! Your disc hits one, then the other, and sends them both over the bridge.

  “No!” he shouts. As he reaches out to try and grab them, he loses his balance and tumbles over the side. You hear him scream all the way down.

  There is no time to waste. Your father leaps across the gap in the bridge and you all rush to the Portal. But Quorra takes a step backward.

  “I’m not going,” she says. “This is my world. I want to stay here to ensure we never go through something like this again.”

  You gaze at her in admiration. “I guess I understand.” You grin. “And we’ll work on making a safe way in and out so we can visit each other.”

  Quorra waves good-bye as your father steps up to the Portal.

  “Hey, kid,” he says. “You owe me a bike.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” you reply. “There’s one with your name on it at my place. And I can’t wait for you to meet my dog, Marv. He’s a mutt.” Your dad grins. “Imperfect. Just how I like ’em.”

  THE END

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  You start shouting again. “I’m not like the rest of you!” Vwip! The disc pings off an embankment and whooshes straight at you. Before you can duck, it slices into your chest.

  Your knees buckle and you drop to the ground. “Help me,” you beg. But no one moves. They stand staring at you, mesmerized by the blood oozing out of your wound. Then it dawns on you: they’ve never seen blood before. Which also means they don’t have the kinds of doctors you’d need.

  You feel woozy as you try to stop the bleeding. But it’s no use. This is…

  THE END

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  You carefully creep to the doorway on the right, trying to avoid creaking floorboards. You want to hear what they’re talking about before you introduce yourself. Being the son of Kevin Flynn doesn’t quite have the pull you thought it would have here.

  You lean against the doorjamb, listening.

  “We must find Flynn,” a voice growls. “We need him on our side.”

  “We don’t even know if Flynn is alive,” another voice protests. “Or if he’d be willing to join us.”

  “There are rumors,” a female voice says. “The son is here. The Portal is alight.”

  “The rumors are true,” you say, stepping into the room. “And I want to help.”

  Three startled programs stare at you: a burly man with a scar across his face, another equally huge guy, and a girl with a shaved head. Wow. What kind of group have you just joined?

  “Grab him!” the scarred man shouts. “He’ll rat us out to Clu.”

  “No!” you cry as they pounce. “I’m Sam Flynn! Kevin Flynn’s son! I can prove it!”

  Now they release you so quickly you fall to the floor with a thump.

  You stay on the floor and show them your disc. Now they gaze at you with awe. Which feels a lot better than being attacked. But only barely. It’s more than a little weird.

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  Your father. Kevin Flynn. Your real father—the age he would be now, had he never disappeared.

  “Sam?” he says uncertainly.

  “Long time,” you reply.

  “You have no idea,” he says. He approaches you slowly, still staring at you as if he’s not quite sure you’re real. “You’re here.”

  “Looks that way,” you say.

  He keeps smiling and then frowning, as if it’s too much for him to take in. “How…?”

  “Alan came over—”

  Now he nods. “Bradley. Alan Bradley.”

  “He got your page. I found the office under the arcade. You know the rest.”

  Puzzled, he looks at you. “A page …” He blinks a few times.

  “Dinner is soon. We’ll continue then.” He strides out of the room, leaving you with more questions than answers.

  “You have to understand,” Quorra says softly. “He thought he’d never see you again. This is very …” She shrugs.

  “That’s cool. I get it.” You gaze down at your feet. You don’t want her to see the emotions flooding through you.

  She points you toward a room down the hallway. “Why don’t you rest up before dinner?” she suggests.

  You exit, grateful for time alone.

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  It looks as if no one ever patrols here. Broken glass and twisted metal litter the streets. A bitter wind howls through the crumbling buildings, cutting right through you. You want to get off the streets, warm up, and think. You duck inside an abandoned building.

  Your eyes adjust slowly to the dim light. You don’t know what used to be made here, but no one’s been there in an awfully long time. Dust covers all the surfaces, and rusted machinery looms in the darkness like fossilized dinosaurs.

  You find a spot that’s out of the cold draft and sit. You hold your head in your hands, trying to put
all the pieces of what you know together. Which isn’t much. Least of all how to get yourself back home.

  A sudden movement catches your attention. You’re pretty sure someone just raced across the room and through a door on the left. Then you hear talking coming from the room on the right. Clearly, you aren’t alone.

  Should you find out who just ran through the space—and why they’re in such a hurry? TURN TO PAGE 95.

  Or do you want to find out who’s talking and what they’re talking about? TURN TO PAGE 99.

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  Finding your dad could take forever. And time is of the essence. Somehow you have to unite the rebels. Then, maybe your dad will come out of hiding voluntarily. But you need Bartik’s help. You make your way back to the dilapidated shack Bartik uses as rebel headquarters. You arrive during some kind of meeting.

  “You’re back!” Bartik crows as you step through the door. Then he looks puzzled. “You’re alone?” His expression darkens with sorrow. “Was he…dead? Or did he refuse to come with you?”

  You glance around the room full of fierce-looking men and women. For one second you consider lying to them, telling them that he didn’t want to come. But that won’t help the cause. So you take a deep breath and tell them the truth. “I realized by the time I found him it could be too late.”

  There’s a general murmur of confusion and discontent. You hold up a hand. “Most of you don’t know me,” you say. “I’m Sam Flynn. Kevin Flynn’s son. And I want to help overthrow Clu.”

  Now the room goes silent. You really hope you didn’t make a big mistake.

  Your jaw clenches and you hold your breath as they all stare at you. Bartik approaches you slowly. You prepare yourself for an attack.

 

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