“Wait here,” Quorra whispered.
She quietly approached the man. But before she touched his shoulder, he spoke. “Quorra?”
“Yes?” she replied.
“I’m guilty.”
She frowned. “Of what?”
“I finished all the Jin Hua tea,” the man said. “I’ll brew a fresh pot.”
“We have a guest,” Quorra said.
The man stretched out his long legs. His feet were bare. Sam thought he saw a beard under the unruly, gray-streaked hair.
“There are no guests, Quorra,” the suddenly familiar voice replied. Then the figure rose and faced Sam.
Kevin Flynn.
Father and son stood silently, in awe of each other.
“Sam?” Kevin’s voice broke with emotion. “Long time.”
“You have no idea,” Sam replied. He gazed at the man before him. He was older now. Bearded and tired. But he was definitely dad.
Kevin walked forward and touched Sam’s shoulder, as if to reassure himself that his son were real. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
Sam nodded. “I’m here.”
“You’re big.” Kevin observed the obvious.
“Six-one,” Sam replied. “And you’re…old.”
Kevin laughed. “How did you get here?”
“Well, Alan Bradley came over,” Sam explained, weirded out by how normal this all seemed. “He got your page. Then I found your secret lab in the arcade.”
“The pager! Of course,” Kevin said, as if he’d just figured something out.
“Clu had him on the Light Cycle grid,” Quorra told Flynn. “I intervened.”
Kevin thanked her with his eyes. Then he crossed to the door. “dinner is soon,” he said. “We’ll continue our talk then…”
Sam watched his father walk out the door.
“He’s strange,” Sam said.
“Flynn never thought he’d see you again,” Quorra explained.
Same here, Sam thought, but he said nothing.
His gaze traveled to a Light Cycle parked in the corner of the room. Sleek but retro, the machine was ready to rock.
“Vintage,” Quorra explained. “Flynn built it many cycles ago for the games. It doesn’t get out much these days, but it’s as fast as anything on the grid.”
Another corner of the massive room had been turned into a library. A table in the center of the space was occupied by an inlaid chessboard with carved stone figures.
But there were differences from the game Sam knew. He didn’t recognize all the pieces, and the board had squares of three colors.
“Looks easy,” Sam joked.
“Like chess, but much more complicated,” Quorra said. “We’re nine years into this game.”
Sam gestured to the books.
“Flynn shared them with me,” Quorra said. “I’ve read them all.”
Sam scanned the titles. “Light reading. Tolstoy. Chaucer. Trungpa.” He froze on a title. “Journey Without Goal? Must have a killer ending.”
“Flynn is teaching me the art of the selfless,” Quorra explained. “How to remove yourself from the equation.”
Quorra leaned close to Sam. “Between you and me, Jules Verne is my favorite,” she whispered. “do you know Jules Verne, Sam Flynn?”
“Sure,” Sam replied.
Quorra’s eyes lit with interest. “What’s he like?” she asked.
IN THE LONG SILENCES DURING DINNER, the silverware clanked inside the massive space. The banquet hall itself was as large as the reception room. It had the same tall windows, and pretty much the same view of the flickering grid.
A huge fireplace held a bonfire-size digital blaze that lit the room in an almost-natural glow.
The table seemed as long as a city block. Enough food to feed a hundred guests was spread out on the white tablecloth. But the only ones dining were Quorra, Sam, and his father.
“You digging the wine?” Kevin asked Sam. “My own special sauce. Never thought we’d have occasion to crack it, but here we are…”
Sam warily lifted his glass. They all sipped.
“You getting the black cherries?” Kevin asked.
“I’m getting more of a motor-oil vibe,” Sam said.
“Cool,” Kevin said. “I’m getting closer then.”
Sam blinked, realizing what his father’s words meant. His dad had created everything in this digital domain—right down to the smallest detail, even the wine in their glasses.
“How old are you now, Sam?” Quorra asked.
Sam and his father both replied: “Twenty-seven.”
Quorra cocked her head. “did you attend college?”
Sam nodded.
Kevin started to grin at that until Sam added, “Before I dropped out.”
Kevin frowned. “How about work?” he asked his son. “Are you doing anything at Encom?”
“I, uh…” Sam shrugged. “I check in once a year.”
“Okay,” Kevin said, not hiding his disappointment. “Wife? girlfriend?”
“Dog,” Sam said. “Name’s Marvin. He’s a rescue.”
His father nodded. “dogs are cool.”
After a long silence, Kevin met his son’s eyes. “I imagine you have a lot of questions,” he said.
“Actually, just one,” Sam replied.
His dad sighed, already guessing. “Why I never came home?”
Sam nodded.
Kevin rose and gazed through the window. “Those nights, when I went to the office, I was really coming here,” he confessed. “At first it was about the games. But it quickly became about much more…”
Kevin faced Sam and Quorra again. “I realized this was a place of infinite possibilities,” he said. “But I couldn’t be here all the time. I had you, Sam. I had Encom. I needed partners to help out—”
“Tron and Clu,” Sam said.
Kevin nodded. “We were building a whole new world. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any more profound, something unexpected happened—”
Sam recalled the conversation the night his dad had vanished. “The miracle?” Sam asked.
“The miracle,” Kevin replied. “Isomorphic algorithms. ISOs for short. The next step in evolution. If my coming here to the digital realm was a small step in mankind’s evolution, then the ISOs were a giant leap.”
“And you created them?” Sam asked.
Kevin stared into the fireplace. “No. They simply manifested, like a flame. They weren’t really from anywhere. The conditions were right, and they came into being.”
Kevin’s bearded face seemed suspended in the glow of the fire. “It was humbling,” he said. “Any program I wrote would inherently have my flaws embedded in it. But the ISOs—they were like flowers sprouting in a wasteland. They were individual. Creative. They had free will. As soon as I saw them, I knew this was why I came here, to build a world where they could be born into, then somehow bring their special gifts back to our world. The endless possibilities of their root code—their digital DNA—is spectacular. All I needed was time…”
“So what happened?” Sam asked.
“Clu happened,” Kevin said with a frown. “What I saw as a miracle, Clu saw as a virus. An imperfection. Clu took over. Staged a coup.”
Kevin’s frown deepened. “Clu tried to have me derezzed. But Tron helped me escape.”
“What happened to Tron?” Sam asked.
“The Black Guard captured him that day,” Kevin said sadly. “I think Clu destroyed him. Whatever the case, I never saw Tron again. I fled the city, to this safe house I had secretly constructed in the mountains. I saw the light over the city go dark as the Portal closed…”
Kevin turned away from his memories of that terrible time.
“Sam, I tried to come home,” Kevin explained, his voice earnest. “But the Portal shut down on me. As a fail-safe, I’d set the door to open only from the outside, and only for a limited time. during the chaos after Clu’s takeover, it closed. That was the last night I ever saw you.”
Kevin nodded. “He knew that this great experiment of the grid was just that—an experiment. Clu also understood that the ISOs were a breakthrough. They were the future, and Clu wasn’t.”
Sam shook his head. “Why didn’t you fight?!”
“He did,” Quorra quickly replied.
“Clu fed on my resistance,” Kevin explained. “The more I fought, the more powerful he became. His first act was the elimination of the ISOs.”
“The Purge,” Quorra said.
Sam swallowed hard. “Clu killed them all?”
Kevin’s expression turned grim. “It was genocide.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Then Kevin led Sam and Quorra onto a veranda.
“So,” Sam said, taking in the view, “if the Portal was activated when I came in, it must be open now.”
His father nodded. “For a time, yes.”
“So we can go. Home,” Sam said. “We make a run for it, get you out of here.”
“Sam, don’t rush,” his dad cautioned.
“What do you mean?” Sam cried. “The Portal. It’s going to close!”
Quorra tried to explain. “The moment Flynn is on the grid, Clu will stop at nothing to obtain his disc.”
“My disc is everything, Sam,” Kevin said. “The master key. The Golden ticket. The way out, and not just for me—”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“With my disc, it’s possible for Clu to escape, too,” Kevin said. “Our worlds are more connected than anyone knows. Clu figures if I can get in—”
“He can get out,” Sam concluded. “And what then?”
“Game over for our world,” Kevin said. “Clu doesn’t dig imperfection.”
Sam threw up his hands. “So that’s it? We do nothing? We just sit here?”
Under his beard, Kevin’s lips curled into a smile. “It’s amazing how productive doing nothing can be.”
“What?!” Sam cried. “That doesn’t make any sense. We have to make a run for it!”
“What we have to do is slow down,” his father insisted. “Clu has been growing exponentially more powerful. We’re safe here in the Outlands. But as soon as we step onto that grid…well, believe me, there’s no move we can make that Clu hasn’t already considered.”
Kevin could see Sam was confused.
“In here, nothing happens unless Clu wants it to,” Kevin said, trying to get his point across.
“That’s not true,” Sam said. “Look at us. We’re here.”
His father let out a deep sigh. “Tell me, Sam. What brought you to the grid?”
“I told you,” Sam replied. “Alan got a page from you.”
“But I didn’t send any page, Sam,” Kevin said. “It was Clu. This is all his design. 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 Clu wants. Us. Together. Heading for the Portal.”
Kevin placed both hands on his son’s shoulders. “It’s Clu’s game now, Sam,” he said. “And the only way to win is not to play.”
“That’s a lousy way to live,” Sam said through clenched teeth.
“Yes, but a way,” his father said.
“We can go home!” Sam cried. “don’t you want that?”
Kevin was silent for a moment as he pondered his son’s words. Finally, he spoke. “Sometimes life has a way of moving you past things like wants and hopes.”
Sam didn’t know what to say, what to do, to change his father’s mind. But it didn’t matter. The conversation seemed over.
“Quorra will show you to your room,” said Kevin. “good night, Sam.”
Quorra led Sam into a wide, seemingly endless corridor.
“How can he be so afraid of his own creation?” Sam asked her. “dad built Clu. Why can’t he end him?”
Quorra frowned. “He could, but it would require integration.”
“All right, so why not—?”
“Your father would never survive the event,” she explained. “It would be the end of them both.”
“Well, I’m not sitting around here until some plan magically presents itself,” Sam warned. “If dad refuses to act, then I will.”
“How?” Quorra whispered.
“I’m going through the Portal. Clu wants dad’s disc, not mine. Clu actually had my disc and handed it right back.” Sam shook his head. “I’m going to get out. I’m going to find Alan Bradley, and we’re going to figure this thing out on the other side. It might be Clu’s game here, but in my world he’s gone in a keystroke.”
Sam clenched his fists. “Only I can’t do anything until someone helps me get to the Portal. My gut tells me you don’t want to be stuck here for eternity, either.”
Quorra’s eyes were wide. “I really think you should consider your father’s wisdom,” she argued.
“I have,” said Sam.
After a long silence, Quorra gave Sam what looked like a business card. An odd symbol glowed in one corner. When Sam took the tiny plastic square, a holographic map appeared before his eyes.
“There’s someone I once knew,” Quorra said. “A program named Zuse, who fought alongside the ISOs. I haven’t seen him in a long time, but they say he still runs the underground.”
Sam studied the floating map.
“Zuse forges data for rogue programs, moves them around the grid,” Quorra explained. “They say he can get anyone anywhere.”
“Then he can get me to the Portal,” Sam said. “How do I find Zuse?”
Quorra pointed to a spot on the map. “This is his sector. Make it there alive and…he’ll find you.”
SAM REVVED THE ENGINE ON HIS DAD’S LIGHT CYCLE. The chopper may have been vintage, but it moved. Which was good. Sam didn’t have any time to waste. He had to get to Zuse.
Sam streaked a blazing path across the Outlands’ ebony landscape. Everything except the skyline in the distance was carbon black. Sam focused on the flickering energy of the grid’s main city, glowing with unique particles of light.
As the lights grew brighter, Sam spotted a long, narrow bridge. He crossed it, entering into what Quorra told him was referred to as the Old City.
The streets were tangled and twisted here, but Sam didn’t feel lost. This part of the city’s digital metropolis was a reflection of the real one he’d lived in all his life. On the other hand, Sam noticed some disturbing differences.
This Old City showed more decay than the one back home. The roving Sentries and barbed wire looked wrong to Sam, too. But he recognized the layout well enough. He even knew that with a few turns he would be at his dad’s arcade—or at least this digital domain’s version of it.
“This is a restricted area,” a metallic voice boomed through the dreary streets. “Authorized programs only. violators without functionality or residence confirmation will be deleted…”
Sam noticed Sentries up ahead. They were stopping passing programs and checking their disc Ids.
Better look for cover, Sam thought.
He ducked into an alley across from Flynn’s arcade. As he parked his dad’s cycle, he noticed a destitute program sleeping nearby. Sam traded his blue arena baton for the defeated program’s ragged poncho. disguised now, Sam ventured onto the main street.
“Sam Flynn?”
Turning, he recognized the pretty program approaching him. This was the head Siren, the same living statue who had helped Sam suit up before he entered the arena. She looked more conventional now, wearing street clothes and carrying an umbrella.
“Do you remember me?” she asked.
Sam nodded. “You gave me some advice.”
“And you followed it. I’m glad,” the Siren said with a smile. “It’s unfortunate we met the way we did.”
“Yeah. Can I have my jeans back?” Sam asked.
“I am off duty now,” the Siren replied.
“Well, you have a good night,” he said, turning to
go.
The Siren stopped him. “You’re looking for someone?”
Sam froze. “What makes you say that?”
The Siren plucked Quorra’s holographic card out of his hand. “Intuition,” she replied flatly.
Just then, two armored Sentries appeared at the end of the block. The Siren pulled Sam into the shadows.
“I can help you, Sam Flynn,” she whispered. “I know what you are looking for, and your other options don’t strike me as particularly attractive.” The Siren’s gaze drifted to the Sentries.
Sam nodded once. The Siren took Sam’s hand and led him away, out of the Old City and toward the new.
Back in the Outlands, Kevin awoke with a start. Sensing something was wrong, he got out of bed. In his bare feet he padded to where his son was supposed to be sleeping.
Sam was gone—and so was the vintage Light Cycle.
Kevin knew Sam could never have gotten out of the safe house without help. He summoned Quorra.
She found Kevin on the veranda staring out at the flickering lights of the metropolis. “The city is bright tonight,” he said. “Clu is excited to see me.”
Quorra flinched. He knows I helped Sam. did something happen? The city lights were brighter than ever. Spotlight beams stabbed at the black sky. Quorra could see squadrons of air Sentries assembling above the city’s towers.
Suddenly she became frightened. Clu knew Sam was on the grid! He was marshaling his forces.
“Thank you for bringing my son to me,” Kevin said quietly. Then he touched a button on his belt. Thick, plasma-laced armor morphed around him. Battle boots encased his bare feet. The data disc Clu wanted appeared on Kevin’s back. It glowed steadily in the shadowy light.
“You can’t go,” Quorra pleaded. “Sam is going to be okay. I sent him to someone we can trust.”
But Kevin activated his faceplate. “I don’t expect you to understand. There’s no other choice.”
Kevin’s face looked almost ghostly inside the illuminated helmet. “Chaos,” he said with a strange smile, looking at the flashing lights and assembling army. “That’s good news.”
SAM FOLLOWED THE SIREN to a towering building. He craned his neck. The top of the building was pulsating with light. A symbol flashed in the brilliant neon. It was the same symbol he’d seen on Quorra’s holographic data card.
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